I wondered what Victor was selling this time.
We made our way through the rush-hour crowds on the sidewalks. The sky was darkening, taking on the muted grays of impending night, but I still kept my sunglasses and cap on. It wasn’t worth the risk of anyone recognizing me, not when I was so close to taking on the role of Jason Zhou. Fortunately, my getup didn’t get a second glance from anyone on the streets—there were stranger things to see than a guy wearing his sunglasses and cap at night. Like the man in a giant squirrel suit that we just walked past trying to lure customers into the all-you-can-eat buffet.
Lingyi led us down a side street as a shortcut to the cafe, when Arun let out a surprised yelp. “Gods, woman! Can you not be such a ghost all the time?”
I turned to see that Iris had joined us, clad in black, and silent as a phantom. She sidestepped Arun in one agile stride to stand by Lingyi’s side, as if for protection. That thought, in itself, was laughable. “Sorry,” Iris mumbled.
The truth of the matter was, I didn’t think Iris could make noise even if she tried.
Iris caught my gaze, her slender eyes sharp as we walked past a massage parlor wreathed in neon signs and pulled down her mouth just a fraction. What’s up with him? she was asking. But Lingyi, being Lingyi, said it aloud: “Is something wrong, Arun?” She was sensitive to our moods, always looking to smooth things over. That’s what made her such a great leader.
Arun shrugged, the set of his shoulders sagging. “Hard day. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Well, dinner’s my treat.” Lingyi nodded, letting her hand brush Arun’s arm for a moment. “Especially since Zhou will be going in soon.”
Arun frowned. He was so upset, he hadn’t bothered to put on a face mask. “Oh,” he said.
I tensed, then rolled my shoulders. Although I had continued studying my fake identity and trawling the undernet following popular you exploits (any info on Daiyu had been impossible to find), I had not dwelled on the actual fact of going in. The prospect of being immersed in a world totally unfamiliar and aberrant to me was daunting. But there was no turning back—I had to pull it off.
“It’s all set, then?” My voice sounded muffled behind my mask.
Lingyi nodded once.
We all smelled the mouthwatering scent of buns steaming in bamboo baskets and handmade noodles being stir-fried in a wok at the same time. The square entrance of the cafe, with its dark blue awning and verdant bamboo stalks and leaves planted on either side, greeted us as we walked in.
“To a good meal with good friends, then,” I said, flinging an arm over Lingyi and Arun’s shoulders, sounding more at ease than I felt.
It would be my last one out in public with them for a very long time.
CHΔPTER FIVE
Neon lights pulsed to the beat of the taitronica music the DJ was playing on his dais over the crowd. Large glass orbs hovered in midair above us, changing from neon green to blue to purple, then red, splintering the air with its colors. New Year’s Eve, and Taipei was in the midst of an especially cold and wet winter. You wouldn’t know it by looking at this crowd. The yous were dressed in their finest, from silver leather pants that glowed in the dark to gold and crimson dresses encrusted in jewels. Diamonds, rubies, and emeralds graced the earlobes and throats of many, while a few still chose to wear traditional gold and jade. The young women, mostly in their teens to early twenties, were in fine form this evening, baring shoulders and backs with plunging necklines strategically adhered to offer a glimpse of their perfectly shaped breasts. The dance floor was filled with flawless physiques and proportioned faces, because contrary to popular belief, money could buy you everything.
They also got you wings, black and leathery, spreading wide enough to knock people out of the way if the you wanted to, surgically embedded into their shoulder blades. There were variations, some choosing lighter colors—feathered wings, like swans, or transparent wings, gilded in silver and gold. The love for all things supernatural, fey, and demonic was the current rage among Taiwan’s youth, and the yous took it to the next level, surgically altering their physique, adding horns and tails, scaling their skin, be it mermaid or dragon. They were same-day walk-in alterations at the physique surgeons, the changes cast off in a week or two, replaced by some other trend.
I stood at the edge of the dance floor, one hand hooked casually in my trouser pocket, my body responding to the beat of the music as I observed the crowds. This was my first you party thrown by Jin to ring in the new year in the most extravagant way possible.
“Big things are coming from Jin Corp,” he had said with a triumphant smile when he welcomed all the party guests, before an antique gong was sounded and the black curtains dropped behind him and the massive wall erupted in red-and-gold flames. The audience gasped and clapped as an elaborate cutout of a Chinese ox blazed into existence dramatically before our eyes, in anticipation of the lunar new year soon.
Partygoers wandered from the stage after that, to hurry to the multitude of gold fountains that had began flowing with bubbling pink champagne or melted Belgian chocolate. I had lingered, hoping for a glimpse of Daiyu, but no one waited for Jin beneath the stage except for his small entourage. I spotted Da Ge, dressed in a black suit, and felt a surge of adrenaline. No one would recognize me tonight; I had to sell my new identity.
Watching the dance floor, I was enthralled and repelled at the same time. I’d heard stories of the you youth’s excesses. But it was different to be surrounded by so many beautiful, thoughtless people at a party so extravagant most meis wouldn’t be able to wrap their heads around it. It was obscene. What did it matter when everything was going to rot around the yous if they themselves thrived? Why should they care? I didn’t think they even noticed.
I might have my own you suit now and an expensive, air-regulated apartment, but I’d never forget my childhood, growing up as the poorest kid at my private school, being grateful for every meal that my mom put on the table.
Those knee-high black boots that indigo-haired girl wore probably cost enough to buy the meds my mom had needed; that pair of sapphire earrings, to get her a private room at the hospital, and pay for top-notch medical care.
Enough to have saved her life.
I clenched both hands into tight fists without realizing, then loosened my stance. Focus. Befriend them. Charm them. That was my task tonight.