The Escort

Chapter Seven

“THIS IS JOHN Chu,” I say, and John steps forward, shaking both my parents’ hands. Their eyes are slowly scrutinizing him from head to toe, as if they can see through him, and are able to flesh out any flaws from him. He isn’t fazed by it, though, which gives me a bit of relief. He’s right when he told me that he has been in a lot of social situations. I wonder what other rackets he has on his sleeve.

            “It’s an honour to meet you, Mr and Mrs Lim,” he politely greets. Pa doesn’t even bother to hide the distaste towards my boyfriend from his face. I hold John’s arm tightly he almost looks at me to ask what’s up with me. But he keeps his stare at my father and they hold a staring contest briefly, before Robert comes into the scene, shifting to the air more awkward than it already is.

            God, I want this day to be over.

            Robert smiles and says, casually, though his words hold poison, “I didn’t know you have a boyfriend, Matilda.” He even seems amused at the sight of me and John. Cold sweat drips my skin. Does Robert know? What does he know about John? I hope to God whatever information he has he won’t tell my parents. I badly want him to be on the same side. I don’t want him to want me.

            “Yes, I did,” I grit through my teeth which makes him stiffen, “and that makes it none of your business.”

            “Hija,” Ma says sweetly, fluttering her lashes. One word and she is able to remind me what we both agreed the day before yesterday.

            “I’m going to get a drink,” I say, removing John’s arm latched on mine. I can hear Pa hiss but none from Ma, though I can feel her piercing stare scorching my skin. John catches my steps to the drinks where the bartender gives me a shot of vodka.

            “Matilda,” he says like my name is his religion. My heart skips a beat.

            “What?” I sneer and he recoils. Suddenly the guilt I feel sinks in. It isn’t supposed to be aimed at him. It is aimed at my parents and maybe some of it at Robert. John did a great job at escorting me today, yet he is the receiving end of my brunt.

            He hasn’t left, he only stands a few meters away from me. With tears stinging my eyes, my vision blurs at his figure. I look at him and say, “I’m sorry.” He closes the gap from us and he clasps his hand around mine. I’ve never felt this softness for a long time. The way I’ve yearned this simple touch for my entire existence and the way I’ve received it from the person I least expect.

            “It’s okay,” he says. “I know you’re just stressed. You have nothing to apologize for the things you have no control of.” Tears keep streaming from my face. The bartender shoots me a concerned look but John waves him off. I can feel John wrap his arms around me and he exudes his warmth on my body. His warmth softens my resolve and I let him hold me, although we are still in the middle of my twenty-ninth birthday party. This is entirely embarrassing.

            I let go of his arms around me. Janet scampers towards me, her bubbly aura dissolving into a concern. “What happened? Did you make her cry?” she asks, shooting John a glare. I chuckle at Janet’s protectiveness. It is even cute but it warms my heart to know my sister has my back.

            “No, it’s ma and pa,” I answer her.

            Her face falls. “Oh.”

            “Don’t worry. Nothing unmanageable for me,” I assure her but she still doesn’t seem convinced.

            She looks at John who may have been staring at her for a short while but he immediately shifts his gaze elsewhere when she catches him looking at her. “You.” She points a finger at him. “Take care of my sister.”

            John mock salutes. “Yes ma’am.”

            “I’m going to take care of the the rest of the party,” she says. “Tilda go home and John should escort you.” She winks at the end and leaves us.

            Silence wraps us before I break it. “Don’t worry about me,” I say.

            “That won’t be convincing though,” he insists. “Your parents might think we’re fighting or that our act isn’t convincing enough. It would be much more believable if I take you home.”

            Releasing a sigh, I agree with him. “Okay, but just this time since my parents are here.”

            “Of course.”

            He grabs my hand without notice and my whole skin electrifies. “Everything all right?” he asks but I nod wordlessly. His hand is warm and filled with callouses, maybe because of the plenty jobs he has taken but I like it. I don’t know why his presence brings me nothing but comfort. I lead him to the parking lot where the driver is waiting.

            “Thank you for waiting for us,” John greets the driver which takes him aback. I guess no one has paid him attention, including me. I feel like such an asshole for treating my driver like someone expendable. But I guess it has to do with my parents’ upbringing.

            I make a mental note to always greet my driver, my house maid and everyone in the service industry. The driver smiles at John’s acknowledgement. He revs the engine and before the driver takes us to the usual route home, John whispers something to the driver’s ear.

            “What are you doing? Are you kidnapping me?!” I almost shriek but he laughs softly.

            “No, of course not. I’m not that person Matilda,” he says though I can see he looks a bit offended with my question.

            “I’m sorry…” My cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I’m just… Fuck.”

            “It’s okay,” he says. “I’m used to it.”

            It feels like a jab to the chest. I know it isn’t aimed at me, but it feels like I’m one to blame why he’s experiencing it. “No, it’s not. It’s my fault and everyone else’s for looking at you like you’re lesser than us. But for real though, where are you taking me?”

            “That’s a surprise,” he smirks.

WE ARRIVE AT a place where I usually don’t go to. It slightly makes me feel uncomfortable at the sheer amount of people. Children are playing on the streets with Chinese garter while some are just chilling with their beers and karaoke. I know places like these exist, but I have never been here, and I wonder why John has brought me here out of all places.

            “Welcome to my life,” he announces. Different barbecue stands are set up at the sidewalk and they line up with their different barbecue products. They all smell good and I feel my tummy grumbling when the scent catches my nose. John takes my hand and leads me to one of the barbecue stands. He gestures the driver to join us, too, but he declines and says he wants to take a smoke.

            “Oh John, what a handsome young lad!” one of the barbecue vendors coos. John smiles, not the arrogant kind of smile. It is a humble kind of smile, one that can curl your toes. “And who is this beautiful lady with you? She looks like a real-life princess.” I blush at the compliment and look at John. Something in my gut wishes he sees me that way, too… But is he my real-life prince?

            Life is not a fairytale though.

            “This is Tilda,” he introduces with my nickname. “She’s a friend.”

            The barbecue vendor does not seem convinced. “Why just a friend? You guys look so good together.” She giggles as if she finds us cute together which makes me blush. No one has ever talked to me casually besides Janet and amah. Everyone has always talked to me about what my role is in the family business since I was conceived. Pa even told me how disappointing it was that his first born is a woman.

            I’ve always strived to be enough for him since then.

            “Well, John is not even asking me out for a proper date,” I quip. I hear John chuckle. The barbecue vendor laughs. John picks some skewers and he offers one to me. “Want one?” I look at the skewer closely and the smell makes me almost want to barf. John smiles at my reaction. “You’ve never tried these before?” the vendor asks while she fans the flames on her makeshift barbecue grill.

            “No…” I say lowly. 

            “Try some!” she exclaims and before I can hesitate she puts some skewers on the grill. “It’s on the house.”

            “What are those?” I whisper to John, my eyes pointing at the skewers.

            “Chicken intestines,” he deadpans.

            I immediately run to the nearest corner and barf the contents in my stomach.

“COME ON,” John insists, nudging me the plate of chicken intestines. “I promise they taste good.” I acquiesce, and I take a bite. I do not expect the flavours coming out of this skewer. It’s rich and full of flavours.

            John wags his eyebrows. “See? It’s delicious.”

            I smile at him, for the first time since we’ve been together. The events beforehand have dissipated in my mind, and all my mind focuses right now is the skewers on my plate and John hungrily devouring his food. He does not seem to care what I think at his table manners, but honestly, it feels liberating to eat like that; eat with your hands, and no one judges you for that.

            He notices my stare. “What?”

            “Nothing.” I quietly eat my food, the neighbouring noises suddenly sounding like a lullaby to me.