The lyrics to ABBA's "Take a Chance on Me" were still going through my head as I sat in the hotel's basement meeting room. I'd looked them up in Korean after the song became stuck in my head, ringing in my ears, the infectiousness of it total and complete. While everyone had danced around us to more disco tunes, I'd stopped momentarily with Kazuya and we'd looked at my phone to see the lyrics so I could better understand. He'd been so patient with me, so giving, when I'd received the phone call from my general manager. Then, the text. Then the other texts.

Emergency meeting right now. Emergency. Come to the basement.

How much Kazuya had laughed. This boy, who I'd been reflecting on as we danced. It was as if I'd seen our entirety together up until when we'd been dancing. The first time I'd looked into his eyes, how angry they'd flashed, because I'd ruined his sugar animals. The chocolate drops he'd given to me so soon after, when I'd knocked over the display. The bunny breads we'd shared, how nervous I'd been. Telling him I'm gay. Those intimate moments we'd shared. Every touch of his body. His warmth. 

He'd risen my phone up to Nikki, yelling an explanation of the text. Nikki had laughed wickedly and told everyone with the megaphone what was happening. How everyone had laughed with him, this first victory. Because, we knew exactly what the meeting was going to be about. There wasn't any doubt in my heart about it. 

Except, sitting here now, I felt more like a spy for the other side than anything resembling on the hotel's. My chest was pretty much puffed out like a proud bird. No doubt my face looked smug. This feeling was weird to me, but how welcome. Nothing could tear me down after what I'd just witnessed. 

"UGH," my general manager sighed loudly, his hands slamming on the table. Just a few days ago, we'd all been in the same room with Matsuda-san. How small I'd felt then compared. I'd thought I had something then, but I never could have imagined what I'd have a few days later.

They were still partying out there. True to their word, they weren't going anywhere. The man I loved was still dancing with his friends in the street.

"We have to call the police," my general manager sighed, his hand going through his hair as he turned to the white board on the wall. He'd already written out our suggestions, but they were all bullshit. Nobody was on his side, it was obvious and clear. "Nobody has suggested the police yet."

"Let's order Chinese food," the kitchen manager said, almost interrupting him. He shrugged at everyone else and they shrugged back at him, coming to an agreement.

There was no way our general manager would win. He was already defeated, but he didn't know.

"Chinese-!" He started.

"Well, we're going to be here for a while!" The maintenance manager growled, irritated. "Obviously! Have you thought of anyone but yourself?"

"They're on every news channel! They're blocking the street! At this rate, they'll make it to the nightly news!" He was growing more desperate. He picked up the TV remote from the middle of the table in a wild gesture and looked like he was going to throw it at the TV in here, but instead turned it on. And just as promised, there they were. 

They were dancing to Thelma Houston's "Don't Leave Me This Way" now. I could not hide the smile on my face. I don't know how long we'd been down here, but my general manager was right. There were news vans among the crowd now, from many networks. No doubt, there were reporters and cameras everywhere. My friends' own cellphones were out in the live feed, probably taking even more video for social media. It was everywhere and would be even more places shortly. It was spreading, like gorgeous wildfire.

Like a divine placement, a news reporter came onto the screen from a studio, the live feed minimized but still there. A poll was on the screen. "As this poll clearly shows," the reporter was saying, "seventy percent of Japanese people think same-sex marriage should be legalized. In the past week, a coffee shop which flew the LGBT Pride flag was attacked on New Year's Day-"

My general manager groaned loudly and made to throw the remote again, only to turn off the TV just as quickly as he'd turned it on. The remote clattered onto the table, and he practically pulled at his hair. "That is our hotel in the background! Once again! What can be done about this?! We are not leaving here until this is dealt with! What will happen when our guests need to leave tomorrow morning?! What about the ones that need to still check in tonight?! What if one of them has an emergency and must go to the hospital?! More importantly, what are they thinking now? The front desk is being mobbed by calls! They're just dancing in the street! Do they have a permit?! Of course not! Just like before! This is where I think we can get them! Call the police and report them! They must be cleared out!"

I stared at him, clearly laid back in my chair. Leisurely. The kitchen manager was looking at his phone, maybe ordering Chinese food like he hadn't heard a word he'd said. The maintenance manager and housekeeping manager were similarly disinterested. The valet manager was yawning as if he could go to sleep. Our assistant general managers hadn't even shown up. 

I had nothing to lose. I really didn't. I'd already sent my letter to corporate. All I really wanted was to be outside again. I was missing this. What kinds of stories was I missing by having to be in here? What were they telling the reporters? 

There was one thing I knew for sure. I didn't care at all about the guests. Let them have discomfort for one day in their lives. Besides, if my front desk agents were being mobbed by calls, then didn't I need to be up there to assist them? There were countless far more important things to be doing than entertaining my general manager right now. 

I just wanted to talk to Kazuya. That's it. Seeing my general manager now reaching for the phone in the middle of the table probably to call the police, all I wanted was the feel Kazuya's hands in mine. Dance with him again, to Thelma Houston's "Don't Leave Me This Way". Maybe we'd be caught on camera together. Show us to the world, dancing and...in love. 

I was probably smiling way harder than I should have been when my kitchen manager reached over our general manager's hand for the phone. He snatched it practically away and then leaned back into his chair with a long, rude stretching sound of the phone cord across the table. He yawned loudly and settled into his seat like he didn't have a care in the world, pressing the phone to his ear.

"What does everyone want from the Chinese food place? Gyeong-Wan, what do you want?" He asked, looking at me since I was sitting next to him.

And you know? I couldn't think of a single thing. It was the darndest thing.

That's when our general manager started shouting. Pointing at the darkened TV, but no doubt the images he'd seen were still burned into his brain. "We'll never recover from this, don't you care?! No one will ever come here again if we don't deal with this! All that negative press! We were already drowning from negative press from these- these people! Since the week we opened, we've been drowning-!"

"I want egg foo young!" The housekeeping manager yelled over him. "Does the Chinese place have egg foo young?!"

"We've been drowning!"

"Dumplings! I want dumplings!"

I breathed deeply, unable to wipe the smile from my face. Watching my general manager struggle. This terrible man, who'd called me racist things. Who'd sided with Matsuda-san and tried to cover his evil deeds up. And now, this same man who was trying so hard to fight against a force that he had no chance of winning a victory over. Hadn't the news just said that seventy percent of Japan would most likely be on their side? Once they heard their full story of what this hotel was doing, surely they would. And all I had to do was relax back in my chair, no matter how long it took.

"That's it, I'm calling the police. If you won't take this seriously..." he grumbled under his breath, taking out his own cellphone. We watched him, but I saw that everyone in the room had the same smug smile as me. 

My arms just went up behind my head as I relaxed even more as the maintenance manager spoke up.

"Oh, but sir," he sighed in a long, exasperated way. "The police have already come to the hotel this week. Didn't they find evidence of a crime? Yes. But wasn't there more to it? Ah. You were involved, right? Didn't you tell Matsuda-san to cover it up? Throw away evidence? Sakaguchi-san," he turned to our housekeeping manager. "Did you find something in the trash?"

She caught on quickly and my eyes widened. This was amazing.

"Ohh, yes. Hmm. Some rather concerning things."

The maintenance manager turned back to our frozen general manager. "Say," he said, now leaning on the desk. "Wouldn't corporate or the police be concerned that we found some things in the trash, when you told Matsuda-san to throw something away?"

"Ohhh. Yes," the housekeeping manager agreed, with great interest. 

As our general manager turned white as a sheet, I stared straight at him. Waiting for his response. Smiling so much, that I thought my face would break.