Bloodhound

My phone woke me up. It was Thura. "Bro! It's time! Where are you? We're already here! Tonight it's 17th Street, baby!"

I laughed. He always talks like that, like everything is a party. You never see Thura with the same woman twice. He isn't as rich as me, but he isn't poor either. He makes his money selling the videos he secretly records of the girls he picks up, in groups online where men pay for the new ones.

"Hey, man, you coming or what? I'm keeping the table warm for you!"

"Yeah. Coming now. I'll have a few."

"Okay, hurry up, princess!"

He hung up.

I changed my clothes and went downstairs. My sister's door was locked. She must have been asleep. My father was in his room. He always is. I checked my mother's room too. Empty. She had told me not to go out tonight, but my mother was on a plane to Bangkok.

Poepoe tried to play with me. I pushed her away, then gave in and petted her.

"I'll be back soon. Be a good girl."

She barked once and sat.

I took the new car, the one my father gave me for my birthday. The air freshener smelled of lavender. What a coincidence.

As I drove, I thought about the maid. The lavender. Her skin. Her eyes. I wanted to pluck them out and eat them myself. I wanted to. I would.

I parked at the mall and walked the rest of the way. Late at night, the street was full of girls who were easy to pick up, the smell of the food carts, and people waiting for the last buses.

Someone spoke to me.

"Hey. Are you alone?"

It was a woman in a skirt so short it barely covered anything.

"Are you going to the club?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She must have noticed my gold chain, my expensive watch, and the car key hanging from my belt.

"I'm looking for a friend to go with me. I'm lonely."

Her skin was brown, and everything she wore was cheap: an off-brand shirt, a fake leather belt, a thin necklace. I wished it were the maid standing there talking to me instead.

"No, I'm fine. Excuse me."

"Oh, hey, wait—"

Stupid bitch. There was nothing special about her.

I walked toward the lights of the food carts and the crowded street, and then I saw the bar. There they were, my friends.

"Ayy, look who it is!" Thura shouted. "Fresh out of prison! Hahaha!"

"Hahaha, dude, it's crazy you went to court," Naing Oo said.

"Come on, man, sit here," Kyaw Paing said, pulling out a chair.

"Yeah. What are you guys up to?"

"Same as always," Thura said. "Talking, and looking at the fine-ass girls on the street." He waved a hand in the air. "Yo, waiter! One for my friend. Same brand."

The waiter nodded and hurried off.

Thura always acts like the leader, like he's more of a man than the rest of us. Deep down, he's just a little bitch trying to prove himself. I've known him a long time. I know he's fond of me. And I'm fond of him too, in my way.

"Dude!" Kyaw Paing grabbed Naing Oo's arm. "Look at that girl. Half Chinese, I bet. Skin like snow." He flapped his tongue at her.

"Oh yeah, man," Naing Oo said. "I want to invite her over and fuck the shit out of her."

"Damn," Thura said. "She's lucky she's so far from this bar."

I saw her too. She was as beautiful as they said. I stood up. There was something in me tonight, a confidence that wasn't normal.

Thura looked up, surprised. "Dude, where are you going?"

"I'm going to follow her."

"Oh ho ho! Look at that confidence! Where'd you get that, my guy?"

He was right. Where had it come from? Then I knew. Moe. You really are my rain. Thank you.

I hurried after her before she could disappear into the crowd, fixing my hair as I went. Behind me, I could hear my friends laughing.

"Hey. Wait."

She turned. "Huh? Hello? Do I know you?"

"You don't need to. I'm here to invite you to our table. Drink with us. I'm buying."

"Oh, haha, it's okay. We just met." She laughed.

She was embarrassing me in public. I held my anger.

"Okay. How about this. Let's play a game. If I can guess your age, you join us."

"Mm. Okay."

"Twenty-seven."

"Wow, haha! How did you know?"

I didn't. It was a random guess.

"I still can't do what you're asking, though. Sorry." And she walked away.

My friends were laughing. Something heavy and hot was growing in my chest. I went back to the table.

"Dude, what happened? She rejected you, right? Hahaha!"

"Fuck you, Thura."

"Poor boy," Naing Oo said. "Hurt his ego."

I sighed. I felt embarrassed.

"I'm going to the toilet."

"Okay, man. Don't cry in there too long! Hahaha!"

That guy. My anger was building slowly. I kept it for later.

On the way, I stopped at the bar for a cocktail. The bartender was younger than me, spinning glasses and flipping bottles behind his back. He was very good. I was interested.

"Martini, please."

"Sure. You want the menu, or just the drink?"

"Just the drink."

He started his tricks again, and I watched every movement, my eyes locked on his hands. He poured, slid the glass across to me and smiled politely.

"Wassup? You've been watching me the whole time. You want to say something?"

"Well, yeah, man. I want to know how you do the tricks so well."

"Oh. I've been working here a long time. I started out washing dishes. I just really got into bartending."

"Really? What do you like to drink? What's your favorite?"

"Gin and tonic. I like the classics. And it's not hard to make."

"Sure. What about wine?"

"Red wine with steak. The best!"

"No, I mean, what brand?"

"Ah, that. Catena Zapata. A rich guy let me try it once, and I've loved it ever since."

"Oh, I have that at home. My dad bought some. You can have a whole bottle. Come and get it at my place."

"Wow, are you sure? You don't even know my name yet."

"Well, my name is Naing Naing. Nice to meet you."

"KoKoMg. Nice to meet you too."

"Now we know each other. I'll wait for you until your shift ends."

KoMg hesitated. "I don't know. It doesn't feel right."

"It's fine, don't worry. Just grab the bottle, and I'll drive you home after."

"…Alright, then. See you soon."

"Okay. See you."

I finished my drink. I felt good about this. I went to the toilet and smoked for half an hour, thinking about my plan. I tapped the tip of my nose.

Then I went back to the table.

"Hey, the crybaby is back."

"Thura, shut up."

"Hey, brother, I'm joking, come on. I got a girl for you. I told her my brother's looking for a friend right now. Go message her and invite her out. She likes you. She saw your profile."

"Oh, really? Let me see."

He held out his phone. She was a little chubby, but she was exactly my type. Soft. Smooth skin.

"Naing Oo, you going home?" Thura asked.

"Yeah, man. I'm really drunk, and my dad keeps calling me. I'd better go."

"Me too, man," Kyaw Paing said. "We'll head home."

"Okay," Thura said. "Let's call it a night, then." He turned to me. "What about this guy? You coming home with me, Wathone?"

"Nah. I'll stay a while. I need some time to cool off."

"Man, if you stay, I stay."

"No, no. You go first. I'm heading somewhere after this drink."

"Oh, I see, hahaha! That's my guy. Okay, man. Take care."

Thura wobbled off to his car.

I waited three hours. I sat, smoked, drank and ate. When the bar was almost closing, a waiter came over.

"Excuse me, sir. We're closing soon. Please come back tomorrow. We'll be waiting for you."

"Oh, yeah, it's fine. I'm finished. You can clear the table."

I checked the cameras. There were four inside. I couldn't approach KoMg here. Not here.

I walked out and stood on the street. There was another camera outside. So I walked back to the mall for my car, drove it around to the dark side of the street, out of the camera's view, and waited for the staff to come out.

They came out one by one. Then KoMg, with his coworkers. If I talked to him now, they would remember me. Witnesses. I waited until he waved goodbye to his friends and they split up at the bus stop. He was still in sight of the camera. I needed to get him out of it.

I drove past him and parked in the dark under a big tree, then leaned out of the window.

"KoMg! Come on, I'm here."

"Oh, wha—" He squinted at the car, confused. Then he recognized my voice. "Ahh, it's you! I thought you were joking and went home already."

"I never break a promise."

He took his time looking over the car, and I watched his face change. Someone who drove a car like this wouldn't need to lie about a bottle of wine. But I was lying. I knew nothing about that wine. But I was sure my father had plenty of expensive bottles at home.

"This is one expensive car you've got."

"Want to drive it?"

"What? No, no, it's okay. I can walk home."

"Come on, it won't take long. Hop in. We'll grab the bottle, and I'll take you home."

I kept insisting, smiling, asking again and again. In the end he gave in, mostly because he felt bad saying no to me one more time, and got into the passenger seat.

"You know what?" I said. "Come around to this side. You drive."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah. Come on."

"Wow. Okay." He slid in behind the wheel and ran his hands over it. "Oh, this feels great. The seat, the wheel, it's all so smooth. And the engine's so quiet. I love it."

"Yeah. See the location on the screen? Drive there."

"Hell yeah. Thanks, man."

If I drove, he would worry about where I was taking him. So I let him drive. He drove himself to his own end.

To be continued...