Ilani sent a quick text message when he finally dragged his belongings in front of Mystia's apartment.

This place was a downtrodden place in Brooklyn's Cypress Hills neighborhood. The area was well-known for the vast cemeteries near Highland Park, and it remained underdeveloped over the centuries even while the surrounding neighborhoods gentrified. The #J train served Cypress Hills along Jamaica Avenue, but it was a sky train that ran on an elevated platform rather than in an underground tunnel.

Ilani Cho had never been to this part of New York before.

It wasn't considered a particularly safe neighborhood, and it had a substantial population of low-income residents who lived in subsidized public housing. Accordingly, the rent was much more affordable, which was why probably Mystia lived in such an obscure place. That said, it was hard to say whether it was a truly good idea to save money on public safety. Brownsville, the "murder capital" of Brooklyn, was only fifteen minutes down the road.

The 21-year-old student sat down on the concrete steps and looked up at the gray overcast skies.

He hoped that Mystia hadn't been joking when she invited him to stay with her. If she flaked on him, then there really wasn't any place that he could go. Ilani had basically been kicked out of the university dorms in a blink of the eye. The fall semester only ended two weeks ago, yet the faculty committee already decided that he wouldn't be coming back next semester. They asked him to pack his bags within a week, except that was hardly enough time for Ilani to arrange plane tickets over the seasonal holiday rush.

Ilani Cho was Korean-American, and his parents worked overseas in South Korea.

Moreover, he didn't want to go back to Korea. 

His father had given him one chance — one chance to pursue his dreams.

If he went back, it would mean that he failed, and then everything would evaporate into smoke. His father would probably make him work for the software company, except Ilani would always be a failure. He had no interest in quantum computing. Certain secrets were hard to keep, and it wouldn't take long for gossip about nepotism to circulate around the company. Ilani didn't want to become a useless middle-aged bald figurehead in an upper-level management position, yet his father would somehow figure out a way to make that depressing future happen.

The other issue was that Ilani started taking hormone therapy in the United States.

He hadn't told his parents about that issue either.

There were a lot of things he hadn't told his parents.

Going back to Korea simply wasn't an option.

+ + +

The metal safety grill around the apartment entrance burst open, and Ilani turned around.

There was a bronze-skinned girl with thick-rimmed glasses and a haphazardly worn bomber jacket standing at the door. She had dark brown hair — nearly black — which was naturally a little wild and consequently a total frazzled mess. She looked like she hadn't showered in days, except there were some residual traces of (unsuccessful) last-minute attempts to salvage her appearance.

"Sorry! Cho!" She sounded a little out-of-breath. "I thought you'd be here at 4PM. I barely cleaned up at all."

"It's my bad for getting here early. I should be saying sorry."

Ilani suddenly felt awkward. He realized at this point that he had basically interrupted his host's cleaning routine. Moreover, she was probably very busy. He had heard that poor girl had an extremely busy schedule, and on most nights she only slept four hours. As an independent Vtuber, she had to do most of the management work herself, but she still wasn't popular enough make a living off of streaming. These days, the online idol industry was oversaturated and difficult for outsiders to break into without a major agency's support. In order to maintain a steady income, she worked two part time jobs.

Mystia's real name was Esme Seyed.

He had initially met her at a music festival in Montreal. They were scheduled for back-to-back programs at a small local concert and coincidentally started chatting backstage. Esme was a very outgoing and entrepreneurial person with a knack for self-promotion. Even back then, they had barely known each other for fifteen minutes before the girl started suggesting future collaborations.

At the time, it felt like he was doing her a favor. She didn't have much of a reputation and wasn't even all that good. Her main talent was mixing and playing soundboards. Ilani on the other hand was a classically trained Juilliard scholarship student who could play a half dozen instruments and furthermore sing. 

It was strange how things had changed so much since them.

Ilani was fortunate to have met her at that time.

"You don't have to clean up for my sake," he said. "You can pretend that I'm a fly on the wall. I'll try to stay out of your way. Hopefully, things will sort itself out, and then I'll be gone before the end of the month."

A foul look instantly appeared on Esme's face.

"You haven't even moved in, and you're already talking about leaving?"

"I don't want to impose for too long."

"Do you hate me or something?"

"It's not that... but... you're really okay with me staying?"

Esme rolled her eyes.

"You make it sound like we're strangers," she spoke with crass sarcasm.

The bronze-skinned girl folded her arms.

"We're friends," she stated flatly. "You're going through some rough times, so I'll kindly give you a hand until you're back on your feet."

There was an ominous glimmer in Esme's eyes, and for some reason it sent a shiver down Ilani's spine. Even though her words seemed superficially benign and wholesome, there was something dangerous about her overall atmosphere. It was like she was a great white shark leering through murky waters and circling some wounded prey.

She revealed a sharp-toothed grin.

"Welcome to my place, Cho. Won't you come inside, my dear friend?"

Esme paused before adding a crucial footnote in fine print.

"Although I might ask you to work for your rent."

∎

minacia

The song inspiration for this chapter: Fokushi - Akane ft. Angela