SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN 5 AM and 6 AM, Hadley calls David.
David answers on the first ring.
"Hey," David says, his voice bright and awake. Hadley envies him. "You're up early."
"So are you," Hadley replies, and he winces to hear how terrible his voice sounds, even to his own ears.
"Man, you sound like shit."
"I have a reason," Hadley says, and absentmindedly prods at the bruises on his neck. "Something happened, last night."
"Do tell," David says, and he sounds like he's chewing something. Breakfast, maybe.
"I don't think this is a conversation we should be having on the phone."
"Really?" David swallows whatever it was he was eating. "Then where should we be having this conversation?"
"Where are you?" Hadley says, and his own spontaneity surprises him.
David's surprised too, if the momentary hesitation is any indicator. "I'm having breakfast," he says, tentatively.
"Great, I'll join you."
"I'm having breakfast," David repeats, tentativeness gone from his tone.
"And I'm having nightmares."
David sighs in defeat. "Two blocks down curse club, there's this little place. It's the only restaurant that's open this early in the morning. Li Wei's Tea House. Can't miss it."
"I'll see you there," Hadley says.
"Oh, and bring your own money. I'm not going to be paying for your breakfast."
Hadley hangs up.
The sky outside his window is pale pink and orange—a delicate color that seems like it's on the verge of melting into the horizon. It would be great, Hadley thinks, if he could just lock the door of his room and stay inside and sleep and ignore everything. The chirping of the birds, the rustling of the leaves, the rising sun, the world that is, however slowly, waking up. Fuck all of it. Go to sleep and never wake up. Pull the blanket up over his head and drown in unconsciousness.
His stomach rumbles. He closes his eyes, takes a breath—he does this a lot, nowadays—and lets it shudder out of him.
Hadley's going to David, wherever he is. Hadley's going to fix this.
It feels like he's only trying to convince himself.
***
"LOOK WHO DECIDED to show up," says Benjamin Cho, when Hadley shows up at the front door of Li Wei's Tea House.
It's a run-down little place—not too shabby, but not exactly the sleekest. It has the same air of vague un-hygiene as the rest of the shops that line Chinatown's streets. Glass windows that could use a little scrubbing, menus with curling corners stuck to the windows, cigarette butts forming a little pile around the front door. Out here on the street, Hadley can smell something warm and sweet. The scent is almost seductive, especially when the winter air is biting right through his skin.
"Wanted to dine with the proles?" Benji says, without any meanness.
Hadley shrugs. "I guess so. Why are you here?"
Benji gestures at himself, and it's only then Hadley notices his black, slightly discolored apron.
"You work here," Hadley says.
