Meliora - Extricate - 29

[lady_mab]

Jun Zhou

Zoné and Glen arrived before me, as I had to finish my lessons with Uncle Bao before leaving for the holiday party. I am a little nervous showing up to the bar without anyone else to walk in with me.

I could travel across the world to reach Eminence by myself, but walking into a crowded, noisy bar makes me anxious.

Of course, it's not the issue of me being by myself. It's what I've resolved to try and talk about when I finally force myself inside.

Glen sends texts, wondering where I am, so I swallow down my hesitation and push open the door.

There's a small table by the door, and a girl a few years older than me sits there scrolling through her phone. She looks up and smiles when she notices me slipping in. "Hey, hon. Just need to see your ID before you can go in."

I panic as I fish for the small piece of plastic that serves as my Visa. I thought the email said it was all ages, but I could have been wrong. "I am only sixteen," I tell her as I pass it over.

"That's fine." She hands me back my Visa and two yellow tickets, and winks. "You still get two drinks, but since you're underage, try not to swap tickets with any of your friends that are old enough."

With that, I'm allowed inside and I send a swift text to Glen and Zoné to let them know that I'm here. I arrive right at the tail end of the set of holiday songs, so I take up position in a fairly uncrowded corner of the room and wait until they can find me.

When the lights come back on, it doesn't take that long to spot Zoné's tanned face peeking through the clumps of people. It helps that he stands out so much -- from his looks to his personality. Glen, on the other hand, who trails along a few steps behind, blends in so much that if I didn't know who I was looking for, I would have missed him entirely.

They spot me a second later and both of them burst into broader grins than before. "You made it!" Zoné says before he's even within arm's distance of me, but his voice carries above the chatter. He raises a bottle in greeting, nearly smacking someone on the head as he does so.

Glen waits until he's at my side to bump my shoulder in greeting.

"Sorry it took me so long," I say automatically, but they both wave it off. "What did I miss?"

"Holiday cheer?" Glen answers. He's fiddling with a bottle between his fingers, rolling it around absently as he leans back against the wall. "Nothing much, really. There's not any free tables open, so we've just been kind of wandering around."

"Is your team here?"

"Thank God, no. I got the evening off, but they didn't. I don't think I'd be having as good a time if I was having to hang out with them or trying to avoid them." He smirks and takes a sip before offering me the bottle. "Cider?"

I shake my head and settle against the wall alongside him. The background music, some mostly upbeat holiday turns, is low enough that I don't have to strain to be heard over the sounds. "Actually, I wanted to talk to the two of you about something."

Glen pauses with the bottle against his lips before lowering it slowly with a suspicious look. "Well this can't be good."

I give another shake of my head. "It's not bad. I just want to explain some things, I hope."

Zoné gives me a curious look, his previous cheer hidden now behind a mask of concern.

It takes several attempts to gather the words before I'm able to force them out. Perhaps I should have taken up the offer for some of Glen's cider, but I'm not about to back down now. "I want to talk about why I am participating in this game, and my uncle's, ah... Hm." I try to think of the way I want to explain it. "His purpose in helping me?"

Glen and Zoné exchange glances, but I can see the understanding creeping into Zoné's expression. "Your uncle? The little old man who looks like a cross between the Ideal Uncle Trope and the Terrifying Mob Boss? What does he have to do with any of this?" Glen asks.

Zoné's chest expands with a breath, but he doesn't interrupt. I wish he wasn't standing right across from me -- it would be easier if I didn't have to look at him in the eyes. He knows the basics already, but it is still hard to say.

"Uncle Bao remembers what the taste of home is like, but he does not remember the faces of his other siblings. He talks to my dad on the phone, though I do not think this is a habit until recently." I fiddle with the zipper on my jacket. "When I first got the message for this game, I did not want to sign up. I thought it was silly and a waste of time."

There's a small sound from Zoné, and his lips are twisted in amusement as he takes a sip from his cider. From what I understand, he had similar feelings until seeing the name Fletcher Oswin -- but even that seems to have taken a turn for the worst.

"To be perfectly frank," Glen grumbles, "it really does feel like a waste of time. But maybe that's just me being bitter about my role in all this."

I let my weight rest against him as I study the scuffed toes of my boots. "I hope you know that you have people to turn to for this game."

He shifts, and I can feel the weight of his gaze. Glen nudges my shoulder again, trying to get my attention, but I don't look. "I know I have you and Zoné."

"Not just us," I say. "Lysander, and the other Informants."

Glen glances out into the crowds. I wonder who he is looking for. "Yeah, a lot of good those connections did for me the last few times. I wasn't even helpful earlier this month when the agent came right to my door."

"That's just 'cause they're not following any sort of established rules," Zoné cuts in. "Jun's right, though -- we gotta look out for each other because we are all in this together. And I think... being selfish... isn't going to help anybody."

"I mean..." Glen starts, drawing out the words. "Technically not. But I still think this game is inherently selfish. Why only give the answers to some people? Why only give the option out to even fewer people?" He waves a hand before him, attempting to grasp at things that are just outside of his reach. "And I know these aren't like mind blowingly original thoughts. But they seem to be discussed by so few people."

"It is true. I am doing this for a very personal reason, though the nature of what it is so personal makes it seem selfless." I remember Zoné's comments at the event on Halloween, how he thought that doing this for a group of people made it something noble. "I am not above working around the limited amount of rules that they gave us so that I can ensure my team's victory, and in doing so, those of people that I feel strongly about."

I think, in some respects, Jonas must be the same way. I have not run into him since our first meeting, but we still text enough that I've gotten a sense of his fondness for me. I don't think he would have told Lysander the clue on Halloween otherwise.

"I want to find this information out so that I can help my uncle, and in turn, my uncle wants to be able to help the people that he serves." So many of the population feel like they owe Uncle Bao loyalty. They too can have the taste of home because of him, after they have left it behind for various reasons, or even if they have never been there. Lily was born in Eminence, but she learned to speak the same language as her father to hold on to that culture. "Not participating in this game would mean the noose closes in around a part of my identity that I hold dear."

Soon, I would also be among those who eat at Uncle Bao's restaurant to try and remember the distant home that I left behind. I would forget the silly puns my father and brother would share, the rituals that my mother taught me.

I do not know what that means for my role in the context of this game in the long run, but I will play to find out.

I finally force myself to look up to Zoné.

His gaze is focused somewhere between mine and Glen's faces, struggling with some sort of inner conflict.

He has clearly picked up on what I was aiming for -- that we would share our experiences, our reasoning for joining, what we planned to get out of it. We haven't talked about his brother at all, and twice so far, I've told him about my uncle and my reasoning.

A small sound echoes from within his chest. Zoné looks like he's trying, and the start of a word forms on the tip of his tongue.

However, the only thing that does come out is a strained and garbled series of noises.

Then, seemingly satisfied with the effort, Zoné immediately downs the rest of his drink and leaves.

Glen and I are left standing shoulder to shoulder against the wall, watching his retreat.

"What.... just happened?" he asks.

"My plan backfired," I grumble, and take his cider from his grip.

He lets me and crosses his arms over his chest. "There's one thing you have to know about Zoné: he doesn't talk about his feelings."

I snort in frustration and hand the bottle back over to him. "That is silly. He is very... Um. Expressionful? Is that a word?"

"It's not, but I get your meaning." He pushes away from the wall and waits for me to join him before slinging his arm around my shoulders. "C'mon. We should go find him before he goes to sulk in a corner or something."

"He would do that? Because of my question?" I hadn't intended to put Zoné in a bad mood by trying to get him to talk.

Glen shakes his head and leads me on in the direction of Zoné's retreat. Again, I am thankful that he is so easy to spot. "I don't think so, but might as well make him comfortable with having an emotion while around friends."

When we catch up, Zoné is rather stony faced, but at least maintains his level of cheer in his actions and his words. "I think I saw Lio and Lia on the other end," he says, pointing off into the dim distance. "Want to go join them?"

"Doing what?" I would rather not just go to bother them by trying to butt in. It was hard enough to get Lionel to open up to me, and even then I practically had to force him to by getting him riled.

Glen pats down his pockets with one hand before producing a pack of cards. "Games?"

Zoné shrugs. "I don't see why not!"

I almost hesitate, wanting to check to make sure if Zoné is really okay, but Glen hooks his arm through mine and tugs me along after.

He gives me a soft, understanding smile as he leads our trio through the crowds in the supposed direction of the Darcy twins. "He'll be fine. Just give him a moment."

I don't want to give him a moment, but I also understand that Glen knows him better. Even if Zoné and I have been through a lot together, Glen still has been friends with him for two years.

It makes a difference -- but at the same time, I wonder if he knows about Zoné's reasoning for being here, and just how dramatically that has changed over the last few weeks.

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