Chapter 561

Chapter 561: Secret Keeper

Traversing through the doorway was like putting a blanket over a blazing fire, just snuffing out the blazing hormones with the swing of the handle, and the peace and solitude of the hallway outside were like a breath of fresh air.

Away from the music, the laughter, the chatter, I could even hear just how loud my ears were ringing here.

“Following me all the way to the restroom could incriminate you as a stalker, for your information.”

I swung closed the booth door, muffling the booms of the bass and revealing the very picture of elegance hiding right behind it. Irene had her back leaning against the wall, arms loosely crossed under her chest, her head slumped down so sharply, you’d think she had fallen asleep standing up.

“Not if I’m going there too,” I confidently rebutted. “Then in that case, it’s just plain coincidence, no?”

“That so?” Past her dangling raven locks, she lifted an eye towards me. “Alright, by all means then, go.”

I lifted an arm, flailing it forward to the end of the corridor with a cordial smile, “Ladies first.”

.....

Grunting, grumpy, Irene detached herself from the wall and stalked off deeper into the dim atmospheric hallway. I promptly followed suit, something she seemed to be overly wary about it, ’cause as much as I tried, I can never match her pace and walk side by side.

“Cranky?” I asked, only to be met by a wall of silence. “No, I get it. The detective doesn’t like to be snooped on herself. Makes sense if you get a little pouty.”

She scoffed, and I could practically hear the roll of her eyes leaving with her breath, “There’s nothing to go snooping for anyway. I’m just surprised you’d rather waste your time on this nonsense.”

“Waste my time?” Now it was my turn to eject some air. “It is really a waste of time to find out what the girl I love does for fun?”

“Then you couldn’t possibly be any further from your answer,” in a blur, she rounded the corner, her pace growing faster and faster. “Also don’t say that so loud, people might hear you.”

“Say what so loud?”

“That, that – your sentence before,” suddenly her voice so strong and firm abruptly drop down to a weak whisper. “T-The girl you love.”

“Ahh, I see now,” I nodded my head. “I’m your little secret you’re trying to keep secret.”

That’s why she was mortified when I agreed to accompany her, why she occupied the seat that was the furthest from mine and did her utmost to not acknowledge my presence – well, I had my suspicions before already, but with a little whisper, it’s all but confirmed.

“Is there a particularly good reason why?”

“I have a reputation, an image, I’m sure you’re aware,” Irene said. “And I’d prefer to keep it the way it is.”

“Ahh, and my presence would detract from that pristine image then, huh?”

“No, it won’t, but if it’s all the same to you – I’d rather keep my work and my private life completely separate from one another.”

A classic case of forbidden love. Except what’s deemed forbidden is more or less arbitrary. Really, it’s more like a romance kept hidden for convenience’s sake.

“Then I guess with my unexpected appearance, it’s like two worlds colliding.”

“Pretty much.”

I hissed in a breath. “Whoops.”

“Yes, whoops...” She muttered. “But it’s fine. You’re an actor, you’re a good friend, you know Brad Pitt very well. And if you’re gonna stay, which I know you intend to do, then stay a good friend, alright?”

At that, I nearly laughed. “Are we still good friends when we don’t even sit next to each other?”

Irene disappeared into the women’s restroom with the answer, leaving me standing there outside unable to take a single step forward or else risk a spot on some sexual offenders’ list.

“At least sing a song! One, two?” I shouted to the porcelain walls deeper in. “Good friends do that, right?”

After a minute of me loitering outside the open hallway, I heard the rushing echoes of a running tap, the clack of heels, and above it all, Irene’s voice reverberating, speaking, and magnified the way it was, she really did have a nice voice.

“By the way,” She began, the restroom walls carrying her soft casual tune towards me. “That chocolate box you bought... a Christmas present?”

Perhaps too casual.

“Ah, you mean the one you were gonna get,” I echoed back, stifling a snigger. “For your grandma, right?”

With a squealing squeak, I heard her twist the faucet shut, and a little quieter, I heard her clear her throat. “Who’s it for?”

“Secret.”

“You bought only one, so you only had one person in mind, unless you’ve bought some gifts beforehand already.”

“Nope,” I immediately said. “This is the first gift I got, and I bought it with one person in mind.”

“One person in...” Irene went quiet for a moment. “Chocolate’s expensive, it’s sentimental, but not permanent,” She went on. “It’s a gift that can be shared, an experience that benefits both – you got it for the Elf, didn’t you?”

“Oh, don’t look now, detective – but I think you’re snooping.”

“But chocolate’s too typical as well, mundane, cliche, every day, mmm... did you get it for Amanda?”

“Just what the heck do you think of Amanda even?” I remarked.

“Then again, chocolate’s convenient, the bare-minimum effort for a standard gift, it might not matter to that person,” Another pause, another guess. “Did you get it for Ad- ”

“Y’know, I’m surprised at you,” I interjected, letting my voice echo loud and profound. “I thought you’re supposed to be much more selfish than that.”

The restroom was plunged into a dead quiet, then, a faint mutter, “It’s for me.”

“It’s for you,” I affirmed.

“Oh,” Her casual tone wavered slightly. “I see.”

“Be honest,” I said, attempting to peek inside the restroom at an angle. “Did you really not consider yourself in any one of the guesses there?”

“Eventually,” She responded. “I mean, through the process of elimination, I would have come to that guess, eventually.”

“But not immediately,” I said.

“No.”

“Why not immediately?”

Then that’s when I heard it, in the stillness, the silence, an amused little chuckle breaking through her ice-cold surface, “Because I can’t always be the most immediate thing that pops in your mind, can I? As much as I want it to be, I can’t, it’s impossible...”

“I thought of you now,” I said.

“Now...” another giggle, then Irene slowly emerged from the inside, in this quiet, this barrenness of the hallway, her true expression showing briefly with an endearing smile. “Tell me, then... who will you be spending your Christmas with alone this year?”

I froze.

“Let me take a guess,” She said, raising a sly brow. “I didn’t immediately pop to mind, did I?

Busted. Exposed. And I didn’t even have to utter a single word. She just knows, man. She just knows. Never play guessing games with a detective... they might just end up figuring out more than they should.

Irene slowly raised her arm, and I watched it reach out to me hesitantly, nervously, paranoid of any prying eyes that might witness this tender crack in her demeanor.

But throwing caution to the wind, I felt the dampness of her hand stroking my cheek, then quickly leaning in, I smelt the bliss of her tantalizing aroma, and felt the softness, the suppleness of her lips lovingly pressing against mine.

Split-second sensations, before they faded, before she leaned back again, once more facing me with a fondness swirling in her hazel eyes.

I smacked my lips, tasting the grape from her drink. “Friendship kiss?” I asked.

“A thank you kiss,” She said, doing her best to flush away the redness on her cheeks. “For the gift, for thinking of me. I’m happy that you did.”

“I haven’t even given it to you yet.”

“Yes, don’t give it to me at all, not until this is all over,” She said, gradually returning to her stoic, uptight detective self. “You’re still just a good friend, good friends don’t give each other gifts.”

“You don’t have many friends, do you?”

“Neither do you.”

Oof, true.

“Y’know...” I began, a random thought forming out of the blue. “Since you found out about your gift, seems only fair that I get a heads up about mine too.”

“Excuse me?”

“My gift,” I nudged at her. “What is it?”

“You stole it, remember?” She said, crossing her arms. “My dear beloved grandmother.”

“I can settle for second best, I’m reasonable like that.”

Irene just shook her head, before complying with a weary sigh. “Well, it’ll take some time. I need to think of something to give you.”

“No need,” My hand shot up, stopping her there. “You already know what I want, what I’m here for, remember? Come on, Irene... I want to see you have fun in there.”

She paused... looking appalled, almost offended.

“I heard you sing before, well – humming. Through the phone, I remember. You got a nice voice, so I was thinking -”

“No.”

“You haven’t sung yet, y’know?”

“I know.”

“Will you sing?”

.....

“No.”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

Okay, why does this conversation sound so eerily familiar?

“How about in a duet?” I asked. “You can sing with me if you like. It’ll be fun.”

Finally, something different, a change in reaction. For a second, Irene almost seemed to consider the thought, her focus briefly drifting towards the notion. But alas, reality struck again, reflecting back in the bitter cynicism of her gaze, “No. Good friends don’t sing in duets.”

Pretty sure the entirety of human society would beg to differ, but I digress, Irene was adamantly set in her non-singing ways.

“Never suggested we sing as friends, y’know?” I said.

“Mmm,” Irene continued to shake her head. “You recall what I said about my work life and private life intermixing?”

“Yeah, but – ”

“But nothing,” She interrupted, raising a warning finger and poking it against my chest. “You’re my little secret. I’d like to keep you a secret. Understood?”

Sensing a losing battle, I ultimately conceded. “Fine.”

A blink, a breath, and a second later, Irene finally returned back to tip-top shape, her dull, monotonous gaze straying away from mine, as she marched forward back down into the corridor.

“Look, I’ll head back first. It’d be suspicious if we returned together, so you just lounge around here for a bit, alright?”

I looked around me, stranded in emptiness. “Lounge around and do what?”

“Well, for starters,” She spun around, a finger lifted to her red lips, the corners of her mouth stifling another smile. “Perhaps you can start by removing the lipstick you’re wearing there. Remember -”

“Good friends don’t share lipstick color?” I finished for her.

Irene nodded, raising a thumb in approval. “Now you got it.”

So I whisked myself off, entering the restroom I was legally allowed to be in, and staring at the man in the mirror, top hat and all, I began the quick ordeal of rubbing the red from my lips... and while I was at it, I thought to freshen up, unfurl some wrinkles, dust away the dirt and grime, all in all, I spent a good minute all by lonesome.

Or so I thought.

“Well, well!” a clattering echo, from the left cubicle, reflecting in the mirror, a shade of blue fluttered about. “Good friend, huh?”

The middle cubicle, burst forth a raving green. “Great actor, eh?!”

Lastly, on the right, in a soft squeen, a gentle hue of red quietly emerged, “Not really, hm?”

Welp, so much for secrets.

How the hell are they even allowed here anyway?