Lines

BGM: Peaking - Tay Iwar

The door bell rang.

From the door peephole Esme could see Sam standing outside. She opened the door to him smiling wide. She greeted him with a hug.

“Was it difficult to find this place?”

“No, you gave pretty clear directions.”

Esme rented a small studio and kept it as minimalist as possible to avoid the small place being too crowded. A foldable sofa-bed, a foldable table that serves as dining table and work desk, a single shelf full of books. One wall surface was decorated with photos of her daughter, puppies, herself, and colorful post-it filled with handwritten notes.

She let Sam sat at the sofa and offered him warm drink before excusing herself to finish what she was doing before Sam arrived, folding and storing clean laundry. Sam had suggested that he would come early ahead of their Sunday date, because he wanted to see where she lived, to get to know her better.

“I used to live in a studio like this, but smaller, and worse,” he said, sipping from his cup. “This is really comfy.”

“Thank you. I was lucky with this place. I even have a beautiful window,” Esme answered with her back against the sofa, still busy folding and sorting out clothes. Sam checked the boasted window. From the fifth floor, the view was other buildings windows and roofs. He had seen worse. He then noticed there was a line of small pots standing in line at the ledge of the window outside. He smiled to himself and muttered, “Cute,” under his breath.

“Can I take a look at this?” Sam pointed to the book shelf.

“Sure, go ahead.”

The shelf was filled with books on yoga, spiritualism, several novels, and a number of photo albums. One photo album was especially filled with photographs of Esme, which obviously were taken by somebody else. Some of the photographs were even conceptual professional studio shots type. Sam made a comment about this.

“Did you do modeling jobs?”

Esme turned her head to see the reason of this sudden question. She laughed. “No. I don’t think those worth anything in currency.”

“You just went to the photo studio and took these?”

“Not really. Those were made by Wesley Mann. Sometimes he just wanted to fool around.”

Esme’s hair were a lot shorter in the photographs. Some of the photos were candid shot that seemed fitting to be used for a magazine ad. Several of these were in the style of photographs taken for a pictorial book. Sam clicked his tongue. The name sounded familiar, he couldn’t remember how or where he heard that name before.

“Did you date this Wesley Mann?”

Esme cleared her throat and said, “Yes.”

“You broke up with him?” Sam asked again to make sure.

“Yes.”

“Why did you break up?” he asked because curiosity got the best of him.

Esme had finished her chores and sat next to the curious man. “It was too convenient. It didn’t really start with a spark and after a while there was no fire. We were better off as friends.”

But the photographs spoke differently. Even Sam could tell Esme wasn’t a mere object of photography in them. Wesley Mann shot those photos through adoring eyes. At least at the time those photos were taken. The candid ones especially, were really personal.

“He took those too?” Sam pointed at the photos on the wall. It was mostly of Lila with outdoor setting. The photography style was similar.

“Oh, yes. They became best buddies. He always invited Lila for a camping or fishing trip when she came for the summer.”

Sam also noticed something else. The tall dance teacher guy. In the other photo album containing mostly postcards sent by Lila and group photos, the dance teacher guy was there. He was always in the group photos of what presumably taken after a class or workshop event. He was always standing next to Esme and they looked physically close to one another in these group photos.

Sam tapped on his face in a what seemed to be a backstage group photo. “This is that dance teacher, right? Did you date him too?”

Esme gaped at him before chuckling. “Wah, your eyes are sharp.”

Sam kept staring at her and chuckled too. “You dated the dance teacher? Were you going to ever tell me?”

“When you picked me up at the dance studio, I told you. I told you I was going to introduce you to him. But he left early.”

“You are such a flirt,” Sam shook his head. “What happened with him?”

“I’m not sure how to explain it. Outside of dancing, James is pretty bad in communication. So, love relationship won’t work.”

Oh right. His name was James. Sam sighed and shook his head, “I saw you two dancing and that made me jealous. Don’t dance with him, please.”

“He’s one of my first friends here, and also one of the very few best friends I have in this city.”

“I can be your best friend,” Sam pouted.

“We’ll see about that,” Esme replied softly. Their gazed locked for a while.

“Do they know each other?” Sam broke the silence.

“Who? James and Wes? Yes. They hang out together now.”

“That’s cute. They’re friends after they broke up with you.”

“Not really. We met Wes at about the same time. I’m not exactly sure when they became friends. Anyways, I’ll introduce you to them one day.”

“So I can be friends with them? Are you breaking up with me?”

Esme laughed. “No. What I mean was…,” she couldn’t continue and began chuckling.

“Should I tell you about my exes?” Sam suddenly asked.

Without losing a beat Esme answered, “No. I’ll get jealous. I like you and that’s enough.”

Sam pouted, “You’re not even curious.”

“I’m curious but I also know I would be jealous so I would rather not ask. I’m going to change and then we could go out.”

While Esme was busy picking up some clothes and preparing herself for their date, Sam checked his phone. He searched for Wesley Mann and discovered that the guy was quite an accomplished photographer and graphic designer, . But he still couldn’t pinpoint where he heard his name before. And then he searched for the name James and the dance studio where James taught. James Zhao was handsome, he had to admit. Not only was he a handsome dance teacher, he also worked as a model.

Sam sighed. “Best friend eh?” He pouted at the beautiful face of James Zhao who stared back at him solemnly from his phone screen.