"I will not be paying for the damages. There is no possibility that my children were in the lobby. Their mother had been with them all afternoon. They were at a zoo. They have pictures which prove this." Matsuda-san was standing at the desk before me, solid as an angry gorilla, but much more articulate.

Maybe they were at the zoo in the morning, but they were in our lobby alone around 3PM.

"My apologies, Matsuda-san." I couldn't dispute the charges and didn't want to. Corporate had heard of what happened, the trashed lobby, and were butting heads with the Modern. They were disappointed that such a thing had happened so soon into the Modern being open. They wanted to know who was responsible, and he was standing in front of me right now. My GM was powerless to protest, and after yesterday, I was dancing inside. This power over him.

The front desk staff and houseman had seen the children's mother come inside a little before five o'clock. She had been laden with shopping. The whole story came together, and they'd reported it to me in my email. It was clearer than the pictures that Matsuda-san probably had in his phone. She'd left them in the room alone to go shopping. Something that was against the rules. That had been the first rule they'd broken. The second one had been the children destroying the lobby. I'd come in late last night, exhausted and thinking about Kazuya. I'd been more than a little drunk, and had quietly observed fast moving hired workers stripping the scarred carpet and replacing it faster than you could say "pay for the damages". It had been a wonder to behold.

"I demand to see where the damages are. The lobby appears just as brand new to me as it did yesterday when I left. Was I woken up from sleep for this? Is it a divot on a chair, perhaps? Surely something so insignificant isn't a call for such foolishness." He shuffled his hands together, perhaps thinking he was winning.

"Sir, we had to replace the entirety of the carpet."

"Using me to replace your stinky carpet, are you? I won't have it." He rose his voice to me now. I wanted to smile, though. There was no possibility that he'd win. What he said next made it all the harder to keep my face stoic. "I wish to speak to the general manager. He has helped me so much in the process of my group staying here. The booking, the accommodations, and now this."

There would be no other story that my general manager would have the power to say. He was a corporate parrot just like I was, and this time corporate had gotten it right. We weren't a major competing brand. Most of their hotels were in Korea, with some satelliting in surrounding Asian countries such as Singapore and Thailand. They only had a handful of hotels in Japan, so this news was quite disturbing to them. It made them reconsider. Replacing the carpet had been by no means a great expense for them, but it was one that they'd rather not have had to make. They wanted compensation by the ones responsible and would not budge.

In that way as well, Matsuda-san really had no idea who he was talking to. I was from the main branch of the company in Korea. I was their direct mouth. It made me puff up bigger than I was, bigger than the angry gorilla stance that he was presenting. All of my six feet tall was showing, towering over his shorter stature. My smile was real, with every bit of a sneer on every square inch. "Yes, sir, right away. I shall get him for you. Please, wait a moment."

He just nodded, choosing not to dignify me with a response. He instead shuffled the computer bag in his hand, ignoring me now. I turned on my heel, going toward the back. As I did, this feeling reminded me of something. Something so familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

But, as I passed by my locker, I remembered. That little white plate inside. It made me smile even wider, with abandon. This suddenly wild joy. 

It reminded me of what they do at French Cup. Telling customers off. It didn't matter if it made some customers unhappy. That freedom they had. Maybe this was a taste of that feeling, and I couldn't get enough. 

With all of this pride, I knocked on my general manager's door. With much more authority than he had on this matter since I was from corporate, I opened the door without his beckoning me in. It made me feel so powerful. So free. 

As I walked from the front drive of the Modern, I immediately saw commotion down the street. It was unmistakable, all those people gathered. It struck a little fear in my heart, remembering the 5K run and Zombie Walk in a flash. Those images of everyone, wandering around in a daze, all the toilet paper and confetti everywhere. It made me go in the opposite direction of where I'd wanted to go. Going left instead of right towards French Cup. 

But, as I thought about French Cup... I'd been thinking about it all day before Matsuda-san had shown up. Kazuya... Us in his apartment yesterday. It had smelled like cookies. Maybe a lingering smell from baking, or maybe he really had made cookies. That smell swirling around as I'd stared into his eyes. He'd been so close to me, and then his hand had slipping onto my thigh, slipping more, to my interior thigh. Squeezing. I'd felt it throughout my whole body, a slow electric spark. 

His eyes had been wanting me. Hungrily taking in my body. My heart had been beating so fast, knowing it was going to happen. This dream a reality, these many self shaming thoughts, stopping myself if I got out of hand. Having to go do something else to distract myself. But, I'd told him I'm gay. I'd never shrugged away his hand in the many times he'd taken it before, and I didn't want to stop holding his hand whenever he'd offered it. It had been on purpose. My way of accepting his flirting. Had he seen that? He must have, because his hand had been continuing to go between my legs. Exploring. So slowly. Much too slowly. Giving me terrible time to think. 

Images of Seo-Yoon. Her long, straight black hair. The hairbands she liked to wear, because she thought they made her look neat and tidy, keeping her hair out of her face. Her usual single strand of pearls that her mother had given her for her thirteenth birthday, to signify that she was no longer a little girl. The skirt suits she'd wear to show that she was a professional with a career, not some girl who relied on any man. Her sharp eyes, full of terrifying intelligence, far more smart than me. Those same eyes, turned on me, if she found out that I'd-

I'd blurted out that I had a girlfriend. Even in the freezing cold of the December air, my cheeks became so hot that the heat filled into my ears and scalp now, making me sweat around my collar under my scarf. Too hot suddenly, wanting to take off my jacket. Staring forward, thinking about what I'd done. 

After I'd told him, he'd gotten awkward. His eyes had been panicked. I didn't know what to say, too awkward also. There were no words after that confession. There couldn't be any more words. It was as if I'd burned up the rest of my brain. But, he'd washed my brain with alcohol. We'd ended up having a good time, but nowhere near as good of a time as it looked like he'd had planned... 

I wanted to panic now. My body wanting to move on its own. Too much stress. My awkwardness coming out. It took everything I had to appear calm.

I'd told the boy that I like that I have a girlfriend. What kind of idiot did I qualify as? What were the categories? I found myself walking toward the commotion down the street, walking carefully on the ice. It would be just like me to fall on my behind, not paying attention. 

I was settling on the idea that I was simply the biggest idiot in the world, when I realized what I'd happened upon as I stood at the back of the crowd now. So many people dressed up in winter gear, calling out and being excited. What I was seeing didn't make any sense.

Perched on a ladder was Charlotte, the person who owned the movie theater. With much fanfare and cheering, she was putting letters on the marquee. As the word revealed itself, a chant went up in the crowd, and wonder filled me. My face was still awfully red, but I couldn't help myself. 

"Grease! Grease! Grease!" The crowd chanted the word on the marquee. Over and over. 

Grease? It didn't make any sense.

Charlotte turned to them, laughing like the most popular girl in school. She crossed her arms expertly, never losing her balance on the ladder. "Do you want to know when I'm showing it?" She demanded of them. They quieted immediately. I began to recognize some of the people standing around me. They were all people from the neighborhood, people I'd seen in French Cup. It filled me with real warmth, not the red stuff in my face and ears, cooling off my horrible embarrassed heat. 

Charlotte grinned. She pointed at the word like a school teacher, pausing for dramatic effect. "I'm showing it tonight at 8PM! So, you'd better come! Dress up like your favorite character! It's a sing-a-long!"

The crowd went up in a chaos of sounds. So much excitement, so thick in the air that I betted I could capture it in a jar. Some people began cheering, and it spread. Clapping and calling out. I was clapping, too, though I didn't know the movie. 

All I knew was that I wanted to run to French Cup now. Everything inside of me wanted to tell Kazuya of this development. Charlotte being back, the movie theater being open. His elation about that. And, maybe he knew this movie and could tell me about it, and I'd watch him get excited himself just like these people. That smile of his, lit up from inside from information that I'd told him. 

As I walked to French Cup with a grin of my own, it slowly settled into the same worried expression that I'd carried to the theater. Remembering my predicament. The red in the tips of my ears again. My hands fiddled around in my pockets, my heart pounding way too much. But even so, I couldn't stop my legs from going automatically. Returning me to French Cup, wanting to see him. Hoping, praying, that I'd see his smile today despite what I'd done.