42 | two halves of the same

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"Where are we going?"

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"Where are we going?"

The cardigan I'm wearing offers little protection, but I tug it tighter against my body. Emmie walks closer before hooking her arm around mine, helping to shield me with some of her heat.

"My friend said this place has good soju," Pablo answers. He and Darren are walking hand-in-hand a couple of feet in front of us.

We walk for a few more minutes before rounding a corner where the bar comes into view. There's a short line of about five people outside, but Pablo gestures for us to follow him up to the front. After giving the bouncer a name I don't recognize, we're ushered inside and quickly descend upon a table near the back where a man waits by himself, staring down at his phone. He's dressed in a camel-colored coat and all-black ensemble, but the shiny watch on his wrist is most notable.

Darren walks around the table and slaps his hand on his back, jolting the unsuspecting man to attention. His eyes flit back and forth between us and a smile materializes across his lips. A soft, purple-hued shadow rests beneath his eyes.

"Everyone," Darren sweeps his hand out, "this is Julian. These are Pablo's friends visiting from Hawai'i—Alex and Emmie.

Julian lifts his head in greeting as we all take our seats around the table. "What brings you to this gloomy city?"

Emmie is much more eager to engage when meeting new people than I am, so she laughs loudly enough that the entire table feels her infectious joy. "Gloomy? A little harsh. But we needed a change of scenery so—"

Julian accepts the critique. "You're right, this city gets a bad rep for being an eternal rainstorm."

Emmie, for some reason, doesn't mention that she lived here for two years. Aside from our first dinner a couple of nights ago, she hasn't talked much about her time here at all. The way she moves around the city, clinging to me as if we're both at the same starting line of an endless race, it's like she's disconnected herself from this city. I try not to read too much into this.

"So, Alex," Julian leans over while Emmie and Pablo discuss our vices for tonight, "Pablo said you two met over some penpal thing?"

I nod, tucking my hair back over my ear. The gold ring etched with plumeria flowers that I wear all the time catches my eye as my hand brushes back down onto the table. "It's amazing how well two people can bond over the need for therapy."

"Right," he chuckles. "My parents tried to force me into therapy one time."

I don't question the reasons why since I'm assuming I won't be able to understand them, and jumping into the deep end with a stranger over alcohol only works when I'm not trying to do something with myself, so instead I ask, "And it didn't work out because—"

"Throwing your money at someone with a degree doesn't guarantee a success story." Julian knocks back the remaining sips of his beer.

"And how long did you have to endure this absolute pain?"

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