9.

Back on the sofa, Audrey had passed out, her face buried in the cushions. She still had fleeting moments of consciousness, occasionally lifting her head to laugh uproariously at a joke. Hazel returned to her seat with her group of friends.

Jasper was bright red from drinking too much; Anwar had only had a few drinks. He spent most of his time listening attentively to the conversations, occasionally checking on Ashley, who was leaning against his shoulder.

Finally, Jasper was too drunk to drive us home. He would be staying over. Hazel had to drive her friends back – a long trip to Queens – and also take Audrey back to her dorm.

"I might be able to pick you up, but it'll be at least fifty minutes. Forty minutes at the earliest."

I nodded. There was no other choice. Actually, I should have been going home with Jasper, but if I didn't wait, I'd have to spend the night here, which I really didn't want to do.

They had already turned the music down low; just background noise now. Those still awake were either chatting or gathered around someone playing a video game.

"I’ll take you," Anwar said quietly to Hazel. He stood up, carefully lifting the almost
unconscious Ashley into his arms. "Is it okay if I drop Ashley off first?" Oh… right.
"But it won't take forty minutes. She doesn't live that far away," he added, seeing my
hesitant expression.

So that's why he hadn't been drinking, even though he likes to; he had to drive.

"Okay."

Once that was settled, Hazel seemed much relieved. Anwar escorted Ashley to the car
parked in front of the house. He carefully placed her slender form in the front passenger seat.

"You can sit in the back, just in case she throws up on the way."

I quickly nodded and hurried into the back seat. Anwar’s cologne was faintly noticeable inside the car. I recognized it well; I liked it. It was a cool scent that suited him perfectly, making him seem even more attractive, I think.

Anwar really must be rich. To own a building like that in the city center, with such luxurious interior design, not to mention all his designer clothes, and this car…

I wasn't a car expert, but I could tell this black car was far more expensive than average.

Hip-hop music blared before Anwar quickly lowered the volume and smoothly pulled away.

We remained silent throughout the drive until the luxury car pulled up in front of a tall building.

"Just a sec," he said, turning to me. He unbuckled his seatbelt and went around to check on Ashley, who was starting to regain consciousness.

"Why didn’t you park inside?" she mumbled. "Aren’t you coming in?"

"You’re too drunk. I need to take my friend home."

Ashley turned to look at me, as if only just realizing someone else was in the car. Her face was slightly pouted as she turned back to Anwar. "But you promised you’d sleep over tonight."

"But you’re very drunk, right?" he reiterated softly. The situation was familiar, like something.I’d seen Kit do before. Anwar was clearly using the same tactic. "Why don’t you rest, and we can meet up another day? Doesn't that sound better?"
"Then can you drop off your friend and come back?" "Ashley," Anwar sighed softly. He glanced over his thin shoulder at me before gently helping her out of the car and closing the door.

I couldn't hear what they said after that. I just saw them standing and talking for a while, before Anwar took Ashley’s hand and led her towards the building entrance, disappearing inside together.

I slowly exhaled, releasing the tension I’d been feeling.

I felt oddly bad, I couldn’t quite explain why.

Anwar was gone for almost ten minutes before returning to the car. "Let’s go. Get in the front."

"Actually, if it’s a bother, we can just call a taxi," I said, settling into the front seat. "You weren’t planning on going home anyway."
"It’s fine," he said, looking at me before his gaze shifted back to the mirror as he pulled away.

"She was really drunk anyway."

My thoughts were indeed correct.

If we hop in the Benz is that okay?

Is it okay if I call you my Prada bae?

I ain't no player, I just got a lot of baes

But let me tell you, I like you a lot, bae

I wanna start at the top and the bottom, bae

Note// Roddy Ricch - High Fashion

I shifted, glancing at Anwar’s profile. He looked serious and still, very quiet while driving.

We’d been silent for a while, only the music he’d put on filling the gap.

Then my phone vibrated, the name P'Phim flashing on the screen. I pursed my lips, turning the phone face down on my lap and unconsciously glancing at the person beside me.

"Is there something you want to say?" As if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Anwar
asked softly, his voice smooth.

That voice again.

That seductive voice. I just hadn't expected him to use it on me. Was this a first? Or had I
only just realized it because I’d seen him use it on others?

"What is it? Is it about…your boyfriend?"
My eyes widened, my breath catching at that sentence.

…When did he know my boyfriend was a man?

"Use 'he' if you like," he said, probably concluding it was true since I didn't respond.

But that wasn't the main point right now.
I wasn’t too worried because Anwar seemed far more open-minded than I was. I didn’t understand why I’d lied to him in the first place.

"What are people thinking when they cheat?" I turned my face away towards the window.

When Anwar remained silent, I answered myself. "Maybe they aren’t thinking at all."

I smiled, resting my head against the cool glass separating me from the outside wind. "I don’t know why I'm so into him, why I can’t let go, even though everything is so clear. Why am I so afraid of failure?"

I felt his gaze before Anwar abruptly pulled the car over to the side of the road.

He seemed to be searching for words, not unlike myself, lost in thought in the silence.

"I understand," he whispered. "Is that what you’re worried about?"

"…"

"In a relationship like this, in your mind, the person who speaks first might be the one who destroys it. But no, it’s the person who cheats that does the destroying."

It was surprising to hear that from Anwar.

But for the first time, I felt someone was on my side, and didn’t make me feel stupid.

"I don’t understand. Why? Does it feel good?"

"Hmm…" His murmured response made me hesitate for a moment. But the dizziness in my head, combined with the unusual boldness fueled by alcohol, made me decide to finish what I started.

"Talking to many people, having sex with many people…does it feel good? Don’t you feel guilty?"

"Why are you asking?" He faltered, his eyebrows furrowing before a flicker of irritation crossed his face.

He knew I was comparing him to P'Phim, that I thought they were the same.

It wasn’t my intention. I was just genuinely curious why people do that, why they can’t stick to just one person they’re with. But looking back after saying it…

It did sound like that.

"If you mean cheating, I can’t answer why your boyfriend did that," he simply smiled, turning his gaze to something in front of him. "I haven’t cheated on anyone."

"…you haven’t?"

"As for talking to many people, having sex with many people…" He turned back to meet my eyes, a gaze that held me still, preventing me from looking away. "Are you really curious?"

I pursed my lips and nodded.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I don’t understand."

"Just that? Because you don’t understand, so you want to understand?"

I fell silent, my heart starting to pound. I felt the pressure in the air again. Something
between us made me feel awkward.

It felt like a strange pull, one I couldn't deny, and I didn't even know where it came from.

"I can't answer that," Anwar refused softly. His expression was one of indecision, his gaze fixed on me.

"..." I felt my cheeks flush, even though he hadn't said or done anything more than look at me.

My body seemed to slip out of my control. I told my heart to slow down, to stop making awkward movements for him to see, but I couldn't control it at all.

"You don't have to answer. I was just curious…"

"If you want to know how it feels, would you like to try it yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Those words shattered my composure. My heart pounded so hard I feared he’d hear it.

"You mean…sex with…with…"

"Jesus..." Anwar squeezed his eyes shut. He let out a soft sigh while I froze.

Did I misunderstood?

He…was asking if I wanted to have sex with someone else? With him?

"Forget it," he mumbled, his dark eyebrows slightly furrowed. He seemed irritated, like something was bothering him. Before I could say anything, he slammed on the accelerator, speeding off.

The speed climbed relentlessly, making me tense. A few minutes later, we were back in front of the white building.

The darkness indicated that no one had returned yet. Hazel's car wasn't there.

"You can go in. There's some hangover medicine near the bar counter. Take it before bed."

"Aren't you coming in?"

"No," he replied curtly, meeting my gaze briefly before looking away, leaving only a glimpse of his perfect profile.

"Busy?"

I’d thought he'd be coming back to sleep here. His words and actions had led me to believe that before we left Aiden's house. But upon arrival, he said he wouldn't be coming in.

Because of our last conversation? Or because of something else? "I'm going out for more drinks and will probably stay somewhere else." The answer was
self-explanatory.

"Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome. Goodnight." As soon as he finished speaking, I opened the door and got.out. The moment my feet hit the ground, the luxury car sped away.

Leaving me with a confusing feeling and the question I couldn’t forget, as instructed.
Did I misunderstand everything?

..

..

After that night, every time I saw Anwar over the next week, he was always with someone else. Kit came to the building a couple of times; Ashley yesterday and today a blonde woman he'd brought around earlier.

We didn't speak unless we bumped into each other in the kitchen, on the stairs, or in the lounge area.

Anwar rarely sat outside. He usually went straight to his room, disappeared for hours, and then went out with whoever he was with, never returning to the building.

There was no opportunity to talk to him anymore. I started to feel something was wrong, but Anwar would always smile at me when we greeted each other, as if nothing had happened, as if I was imagining everything.

P'Phim called me several times, and I mostly answered. Everything started… well, P’Phim probably realized something was up from the beginning, right up to today.

He started to sound irritated with me, saying I was foolish and unreasonable.

I didn’t explain the reasons for my behavior, just gritted my teeth and listened to him scold me until he was satisfied and hung up.

"Hey… Blue," Hazel’s voice called out. She came up to the third floor with a laundry basket in her arms. Her worried expression showed she'd overheard at least part of my
conversation with P'Phim. Hazel didn't understand, but she knew the situation wasn't good, because I immediately knelt down, burying my face as soon as the call ended.

"Huh," I wiped the tears from my face. The lights weren't on here, so she probably didn't see them. Hazel sat beside me on the sofa, lightly patting my back without saying anything.

"Sorry… are you doing laundry?" I took a deep breath, trying to clear the sob stuck in my throat.

"Sorry for what?"

This scene was something I never imagined. Hazel seemed like the most unapproachable person here; someone who wouldn't even care if I cried. But her sitting there trying to comfort me made me see her in a new light.

After ten minutes, I finally dared to tell her about P’Phim, but only vaguely, saying I'd fought with my boyfriend because he'd cheated. I started to feel better. The tense, serious conversation relaxed, turning into more casual talk.

"Do those people who are dating Anwar know that Anwar…"

"...he’s seeing other people?" Hazel finished, as if she knew what I meant. She crossed her legs, resting her chin on her hand with a slight smile. "Are you thinking Anwar is cheating, just like your boyfriend?"

"…"

How were they different? I couldn't see any difference at all.

"Anwar isn't dating anyone. He never showed any intention of getting serious with anyone from the start, and it’s been very clear all along."

"And those people are okay with that?"

"Some don’t want Anwar as a boyfriend, but it's undeniable that many do. They agree on boundaries before anything starts. It’s standard procedure in this kind of relationship, um… But even if they aren’t boyfriends/girlfriends, he treats everyone so well it's almost like they're lovers. Well, if he isn't treated badly, he's good to everyone like that."

"It’s different because he’s not dating anyone at all?" I tried to understand this type of relationship that I didn't know about. Hazel seemed calm and tried to explain without showing any irritation or annoyance.

"Yes. If he’s not deceiving anyone by saying he only has one person, and they’re okay with it, then isn’t there nothing wrong?"

"But someone’s bound to get jealous," Anwar is that likable. If someone loves him deeply but can't possess him, they'll still feel bad knowing he's going out with others.

Isn’t that right…?

"I’ve seen it happen quite a bit," Hazel mused. "But he seems to handle it well."
I wanted to ask how, what happens when someone gets jealous, and how Anwar handles it, but it felt too intrusive, so I fell silent again.

He’s not cheating on anyone, and he’s not hiding anything…

"It's a relationship where no one is tied down to anyone else. Therefore, jealousy isn't something that should be expressed much."

Listening to her, I started to accept this relationship model Hazel described. It seemed simple, yet complicated emotionally.

Anwar truly treats others well. I admit that. It’s a significant aspect of his personality, just as much as his attractive appearance.

Guilt started creeping into my thoughts.

I told him that I considered him to be the same type of person as P’Phim. If it’s like Hazel explained, then they’re very different.

At least Anwar is fair enough to everyone not to lie or manipulate anyone.

That's something P’Phim would never do.
'If you want to know how it feels, want to try it yourself?'

'You know what that means.'

I couldn't stop thinking about Anwar's words, no matter how hard I tried to shake them from my head.

It felt so strange.

With the confident answer I unconsciously came up with every time, an answer that seemed to lead me towards self-inflicted hurt, I started to understand the many people who got involved with him. They probably all felt this way.

That if it were with him... it wouldn't be so bad.

If it were Anwar, it might be okay.

I met Anwar again the following night. It seemed like he was just collecting clothes, preparing to go out again. But since he was alone, I took it as a good opportunity to apologize.

"Hey," I called out. I was still sitting quietly on the sofa, watching Anwar emerge from the bedroom with a large black shoulder bag. We had already greeted each other briefly, a polite exchange when he'd first come upstairs and encountered me.

He looked surprised that I'd stopped him like that.

"Can we talk?"

Anwar hesitated for a moment, but then came and sat down on the other sofa. He looked gloomy, dressed entirely in black, his handsome face impassive.

What should I do? I can't read his mood at all. But it's not something I can ignore. Anwar has been a friend to me many times, comforting me when I was at my lowest. Yet I imposed that kind of perspective on him. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn't like it one bit.

"What is it?"

He asked, because I was just sitting silently, staring at him.

"I want to apologize," I responded honestly, secretly watching his reaction. Anwar remained still, but a strange glint appeared in his eyes, as if he too was trying to figure out what was going on in my head.

"Apologize?"

"For the things I said… about infidelity. For questioning you like that. I didn't mean to imply you were cheating on anyone or that you're that kind of person. I'm really sorry. I was afraid you'd be angry," I squeezed my hands, relieving my anxiety.

Anwar was stunned, before slowly breaking into a smile.

"Blue, I'm not angry."

"Really?" I furrowed my brow, looking up at him intently. Because he disappeared from my life, and when we met again, the atmosphere between us was different. I don't like this between us. I preferred it before, when we were chatting and laughing at night, when we
bumped into each other in the kitchen, or even when Anwar helped me choose clothes.

"Really."

"O…okay," I mumbled, still feeling uneasy. But if he said that, I could only accept it.

"Why did you think I was angry?"

"You seemed cold," He actually laughed then, his handsome face shaking slightly.

"Because I also feel bad about asking you like that."

Anwar's confession made me wide-eyed. He gently stroked his face, his serious expression convincing me that he truly felt guilty as he said.

Why does he feel guilty...?

I didn't dare ask anymore.

"We’re not ignoring each other anymore, right?" When I asked that, a small smile lingered on his beautiful lips, revealing faint dimples on his cheeks. He leaned forward, raising a fist towards me.

Before I bumped my fist lightly against his.

Anwar’s gaze felt so tender, it made my stomach flutter. His smile widened.

"We’re not ignoring each other anymore."