Trey and Christina -or Chris as she prefers to be called – are the two singles who live on the Tang’s floor.
Chris is a dancer and dance choreographer, and it shows too in her lean but strong body. She moves with an effortless grace and limberness I envy, like a slender reed swaying in the wind at times.
Trey is the ambitious photographer, taking his correspondent course in Art and Photography.
It is early days, but there is already a bit of a drama with these two.
Once, at the Tang’s home for yet another meal Mrs. Tang invited us all to, we were talking about our mutual dreams and ambitions, and Trey talked about going out into the world to “capture things the limited human never get to see by staying in one place, I want to take their pictures and share them with the people” as he put it. Maybe it is my imagination then, but I thought Chris looked wistful.
I thought nothing of it, since I was still getting to know both of them and would not assumed anything about their relationship.
But then, several weeks later, Chris, Trey and I meet in the diner for brunch.now. We are quite good friends by this time.
It is then that I see – quite by accident mind you – Trey looking at Chris with a strange look in his eyes, as if he has just woken up from a very good dream and sees it become reality right before him.
I might be young and barely experienced in the matters of the heart, but I think I recognize that look in his eyes. It is the look of a man – if not already than just about to fall – in love.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
I do a double-take, but tactfully keep quiet. It might be also that I am simply struck silence by my new discovery.
Well, Trey, what is up with you, hmmm??
When he sees me looking at him looking at Chris, he flushes.
But then Chris gets up and leaves the table for something or other, leaving Trey and I briefly alone.
Trey glances at me and asks, “What?” in a defensive tone.
I shrug and ask back, “What, what? I didn’t say anything.”
Trey says, “Well, you might as well have. You were looking at me like…”
“Like how, exactly?” I am honestly curious.
“Well, like, you have something to say!”
“Of course I will look at you when I have something to say. How else can I say it without being impolite?” I grin at him innocently. “Unless, you mean something specific you think I was going to say? But, what, exactly? So Trey, what is it you think I was going to say?” I ask him with a wide-eye look.
He blushes, “Never mind.”
“No, really, just, just shut up, Nysa, okay?”
“Awww, you’re telling me to shut up? I can’t believe you!” I pretend to be hurt.
“No! No, I don’t mean that! I mean, I don’t want to talk about it!”
“Talk about what? You started it, whatever this is we’re talking about, may I remind you?” I sit up and spread my arms wide in confusion.
Trey sighs, and says, “Yeah, sorry. Sorry. I just….I don’t know…. Can we stop talking for a minute? What’s keeping Chris anyway?”
I lean back in my seat and quite comfortably cross my arms over my chest, “Sure, lets just not talk about whatever it is we were not talking about. I’m so full from all this food. I love the pie, don’t you?” I smile at him.
Trey’s left eye twitches, and he pointedly looks off to the side. I just continue smiling, and wait. I pick up a fry and contently chew. Trey side-eyes me, and continue side-eyeing me as I eat my way through a small pile of fries.
Whatever he might have said about not talking, he seems like a man who has something he needs to say.
Then, quite unprompted, Trey blurts out, “I’m a photographer who notices beauty and movement, like Chris has, you know? I want to capture that in my photos!” in a somewhat defensive tone. He seems rattled and rather scared.
Well, it is not as if I asked, I almost said back.
But no need to make the poor man suffer, I figure.
So I just nodded agreeably, because seriously, Christina is quite beautiful, and it is completely understandable that a photographer like Trey would see that, and wanted to preserve the beauty and grace in photos.
I offer Trey some of my fries and say as much to him.
Trey nods excitedly, before he looks back at Chris who is talking to the male cashier by the counter.
I turn my head away from Trey, smiling as I do so. Whatever he needs to tell himself for now.
I just hope he won’t be too creepy with the staring and the pining.
As a writer, I am open to all kinds of different happenings around me. Awareness is a tool. I notice things, because I always look for inspiration anywhere I can find them.
I read all sorts of books: fiction, non-fiction, history, poems, modern literature, classic literature, of all genres. Naturally, there are only so many hours in the day, but I read anything I can get my hands on with my limited monetary resources.
I count it as a blessing that I can get for free all the reading materials on the internet. My favorite genre is thriller and adventure, but I make very good use of all the free material, such as the various romance fictions I find. Romance is not necessarily my favorite genre, but it does help in adding to my own not-so considerable well of knowledge concerning how the ‘elusive but tender heart’ works.
After all, the romance writers have to write from experience, right? At the very least, they do their research which is more than I can say about my own foray into that particular field. I can borrow their thoughts and learn from their knowledge, and I consider that research enough.
As I look back at Trey sneaking looks at Chris, I figure I am going to have some good inspiring materials for a few romance writings.
There is a very big possibility that I have found my real-life muses in that particular genre.
It is sweet, not unlike any other young lovers just discovering their feelings, being afraid and wary of it, being unsure and lacking confidence to move forward or to step back, is it right or wrong, is it worth pursuing or not?
Or am I reading too much into this?
Regardless, I find myself having empathy for my two friends – both only a few years older than me – and hope something happens soon to nudge them both in the right direction, whether it be towards each other or apart.
Such obvious tension can’t be good for their general well-being, I think.
But seeing such yearning in Trey’s body language that he tries so hard to hide and sometimes deny, I suspect it would be towards each other, especially with them sharing an apartment and all.
What about Chris?
Aside from a few wistful looks from her, it is harder to pin down her true feelings for Trey. Maybe she is simply afraid to lose her best friend should he leave for parts unknown. Maybe she wants to be where he is. Maybe she loves him as more than a friend, maybe she doesn’t.
I might have spent too much time thinking about this.
But seriously, it is really hard to ignore such intensity, you know? Because like it or not, neither of them can say that there is nothing there between them, even if they both seem to be oblivious to it, or they are both in denial.
Not that I ever say that outright to them. I have to keep reminding myself not to meddle. It really is not my business.
However, I find myself rooting for them. I figure, my own love life being pretty much nonexistent as it is, why not be happy for those who do have one, or possibly can have one? They are both my friends too, and I want them to be happy.
I reach out and pat Trey sympathetically on the shoulder. He turns his head and raises an eyebrow in question at me. I just smile cryptically at him, not choosing to enlighten him either way to my nor his feelings on the subject.
He’ll get there when he gets there, I think optimistically.
Trey shrugs and goes back to watching Chris who is now flirting quite openly with the attractive male cashier. I think I might have heard a sigh escapes Trey, but I resolutely look out the window at the traffic outside.
And in so doing, I see Mrs. Potts slowly trudging on foot towards us.
…to be continued….
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