Plin Ch 4.18

It had been a torturously long 140 minutes.

Plin made sure to grab the leftover popcorn.

“Ouch!”

But as he straightened up, he stumbled and nearly fell. Hugo caught him, but he, too, swayed like a reed in the wind. Fortunately, Plin grabbed his arm.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

Hugo ran a hand through his hair, pretending to be fine, but his knees buckled a few more times. After holding his muscles and joints tense for 140 minutes, his fascia felt shredded.

“Good thing I didn’t spill the popcorn.”

Plin said, popping a piece of popcorn from the box he’d guarded so carefully. They exited through a private elevator that led directly to the parking garage. Noises from the outside world filtered in, but no one approached this secret passage.

Come to think of it, this was the first time Hugo had taken Plin to his car. It was a day of many firsts. Watching a movie while cuddling, riding in a car together.

They both breathed a sigh of relief once inside the car. Even though they’d left the theater, it felt like the deranged killer from Silent Hill, who displayed corpses, was still after them.

“That movie was really fun.”

“You were crying the whole time because you were scared.”

The green exit sign blinked.

Hugo glanced at Plin as he turned the steering wheel.

“It’s true. I’ve been to the movies a few times with my friends.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was always uncomfortable because I was worried about money. Even while watching the movie, I couldn’t focus because I felt bad about the money I spent. I kept thinking that I could just watch it on TV in a few years, that it was frivolous to spend money like that. It’s silly, isn’t it?”

Plin continued, trying to hide his slightly melancholic tone. The car glided smoothly onto the road.

“No, it’s not silly. I understand.”

“I should have just ignored the money I spent and enjoyed myself.”

Plin said casually, looking out the window.

“That’s true.”

“So I stopped hanging out with my friends after that. I used to have a lot of friends. But I didn’t have money, so I stopped seeing them.”

“Hmm.”

Hugo couldn’t understand why Plin had been so frugal, especially since it wasn’t like they were at a luxury cinema. A pang of sympathy hit him.

“I thought I’d enjoy things later, once my business was stable, but I didn’t expect to go to the movies so soon. The moving sofa, the water, the sounds coming from everywhere, it was scary but amazing.”

“It’s nothing special.”

He’d planned to give Thibeau hell as soon as he got to work in the morning, but he was glad Plin seemed to have enjoyed it. Hugo shrugged, embarrassed by Plin’s enthusiasm.

“Still… Thank you, Executive Director.”

At Plin’s words, Hugo’s cheeks and ears flushed like he’d had too much to drink.

“How long are you going to keep calling me that?”

“Calling you what?”

“It feels distant when you keep calling me ‘Executive Director’ when we’re dating.”

“Oh…”

“I keep calling you ‘darling,’ but you just call me ‘Executive Director’…”

Having successfully changed the subject, Hugo pouted playfully.

“Then what should I call you?”

“Well… your name, or ‘darling’ is fine…”

“Mr. Idrohann.”

“Something else.”

“Hugo.”

“Yes.”

Hearing his name from Plin’s lips for the first time felt both strange and ticklish. Hugo scratched his cheek.

“Darling.”

“…Yes.”

“Executive Director, your face is all red.”

Hugo was aware that his face was burning like a furnace, but hearing it out loud made him embarrassed. He turned his head away and rolled down the window.

“Ahem. It’s an unusually warm winter today. Global warming is getting serious.”

“I’m a little warm too.”

Plin replied with a shy smile.

Hugo pulled over to the side of the road. The Scope Media building was visible in the distance.

It was almost midnight after the late-night movie. The bustling downtown area, packed with businesses, was quiet at night. The shops were closed, the streets empty, and the only light came from the sparsely scattered streetlights, like fireflies in an urban forest.

“…Huh?”

Plin’s eyes landed on the newly installed electronic billboard on the upper wall of The Scope building. It hadn’t been operational yet, but it suddenly lit up.

He turned to Hugo, who gestured towards the billboard with his chin.

MISSING PERSON

The large letters filling the billboard slowly scrolled upwards.

Missing male, 11 years old at the time of disappearance. Currently 23 years old, Andrea Fallfox.

“Executive Director…”

Snake shifter, with black hair and blue eyes. Ten years have passed, but Andrea’s older brother hasn’t given up hope. He grew up at the Saint Meitel Orphanage and lived in Middle Forest Junction. If you have any information about Andrea, please contact The Scope Media. The Scope Media supports the Missing Children Campaign.

It was a short video clip, only a few seconds long. Moreover, the information provided about Andrea Fallfox was too vague. Hugo pursed his lips and then said,

“I would have included a picture if we had one. But the orphanage didn’t have any records.”

“…..”

“Plin?”

Plin had his head lowered, his face hidden by his silver hair.

“Of course, I’ve also sent people to Romun. But any other leads would be helpful.”

Hugo added defensively.

“It’s a test run. The ad will be randomly displayed on the billboard and our channels during prime time.”

“…..”

“Darling?”

Hugo tilted his head, trying to see Plin’s face. Plin’s shoulders shook slightly.

“Are you crying?”

At Hugo’s question, Plin wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. His chest rose and fell rapidly.

“…..”

Plin couldn’t speak. When Hugo wiped the tears from his cheeks, he couldn’t hold back his sobs any longer, burying his face in his lap, his body shaking. A warm hand landed on his back.

The warm hand soothed his thin back, the protruding spine bones evident even through his winter clothes.

“It’s the first time… ever.”

“What is?”

“…That I feel like I have someone on my side. Hic, someone who really, truly cares about me…”

Each word was choked with sobs. Hugo gently pulled Plin upright. Plin looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

“That I feel like…”

His face was a mess, wet with tears and contorted with emotion. Hugo gently cupped Plin’s face in his hands and kissed him.

The young men’s cheeks remained flushed for a long time.

Beneath the quiet night sky, their hearts were in turmoil.

The harshness of daily life had numbed him to loneliness. His meager bank balance, the due dates for his debts, customer feedback—these were the things that mattered, not his petty emotions.

Someone with nothing had to be quick and alert. He was always on edge, never having the time to feel sorry for himself, and he’d even taken a bit of pride in his resilience.

But the moment he felt the warmth of a caring presence behind him, his empty heart devoured the affection greedily. His starved heart felt full for the first time.

In his difficult life, he hadn’t known the comfort of having someone to lean on, so he’d simply assumed he was okay on his own.

Having someone on his side meant it was okay to stumble, it was okay to be lazy sometimes, it was okay to wallow in sadness. He finally understood what it meant to have parents, family, and a lover.

Tears blurred his vision. Fat teardrops rolled down his cheeks and onto the car seat. Hugo’s hands, cupping Plin’s face, quickly became wet.

“Hic, I don’t usually cry…”

“You cry a lot.”

Hugo teased playfully and then smiled.

Plin blinked. His tear-soaked eyelashes clung to his cheeks. They were like curtains, partially obscuring his eyes. But the curve of Hugo’s smile was clear and bright.

What if they weren’t on the same page? What if his feelings had deepened, but Hugo saw him as frivolous? What if his intensity seemed strange and laughable? He felt a pang of fear and hurt.

“This is my first relationship… I’m really not usually like this. I didn’t know my heart could become so soft.”

“…Your first?”

The question was laced with surprise.

Twenty-three was a little late for a first relationship. Most people started dating in middle or high school. But everyone was different, it wasn’t that unusual, was it?

He felt a little annoyed. Plin wrapped his arms around Hugo’s waist, interlacing their fingers tightly, almost like a stranglehold, and spoke with newfound courage.

“I must seem strange. You must have had so many relationships…”

His brave declaration ended on a hesitant note. He had plenty of reasons to assume Hugo was experienced in love.

He had a slightly bad personality, a bit of a perverted streak, and they didn’t always communicate well, but he was handsome, confident, and had an enviable background. Most importantly, he was incredibly skilled and passionate in bed.

At work, men and women alike looked at Hugo with favorable gazes as he passed by. Even the number of followers on his Zoosta spoke volumes about his charisma.

How many people had he dated? Ten? Twenty? Thirty? …A hundred? Plin’s ears drooped with each imagined ex-lover.

“Huh…?”

Hugo’s response was slightly dazed.

Plin dropped his head onto Hugo’s shoulder, as if giving up.

“No, actually, I…”

“I know it seems uncool that I’ve never dated before.”

“Huh? Is that… considered uncool?”

“It makes me seem unattractive, and like I’ll be clingy…”

“Well…”

“That’s what most people think, right?”

“Not to that extent… clinginess, it’s understandable if it’s your first relationship. I can understand that…”

Hugo rambled, unable to finish his sentence. Plin looked up, his ears burning red. They’d been red before, but now they were almost a dark crimson. He seemed flustered.

Perhaps the rich young master was uncomfortable with his sudden seriousness. He’d heard that rich people enjoyed casual relationships. After all, Hugo’s initial interest in Plin had started with a playful “contractual relationship.”

But Plin didn’t want a playful relationship with him. He looked directly at Hugo and pleaded,

“Please don’t run away, even if I’m too much. Please understand that it’s because I’ve finally met someone I really like.”

It was an honest, desperate, foolish plea, a fervent confession from someone who’d never experienced anything remotely close to a real relationship.

Hugo, speechless, simply nodded, his eyes wide.

He cleared his throat and opened the sunroof. The cold winter air rushed in, but it wasn’t enough to cool the sudden fever that had gripped him. Neither of them noticed the cold, or whether their flushed faces were from internal heat or the external chill.

***