The grill hissed with heat, a haze of smoke carrying the scent of charcoal and spices into the air. Skewers turned over the fire, fat dripping onto the embers with a fine crackle, the smoke curling up in a savoury wave.
Felix picked up a skewer with a slightly darker sheen and offered it to Rachel, his expression untroubled."Try this. It's… different."
She arched a brow but took a bite. Beneath the charred exterior, the meat was tender and springy, laced with cumin and chilli. She blinked, clearly not expecting it to taste this good.
"Mmh? What cut is this?"
"A part of the chicken," Felix replied, as if it were nothing.
Rachel took another two bites before noticing something in his expression."It's not—"
"Chicken heart," he admitted, perfectly honest.
Her chopsticks froze mid-air.
For a moment she had no words, then she raised her hand as if to hit him. Felix had been ready for it, stepping back with a half-smile while guarding the rest of the skewer."Admit it—it's good."Rachel shot him a glare, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her. "Bastard," she muttered.
Sunlight streamed through the restaurant's windows, casting warm light over the table and their faces, gilding the small mischief in a golden hue.
The taste seemed to disarm her. Leafing through the menu, her gaze paused on a name she didn't recognise."This… pork kidney?" she asked the waiter, and when he confirmed, she ordered two plates.
Felix glanced at the words and raised a brow. "You sure?""Why not? Let's try it," she said easily.
The kidneys arrived quickly—sliced evenly, their glossy surface glistening under a coat of spices, sizzling over the grill. Felix stared at them for a moment before chuckling."You know in East Asia, there's a saying that eating animal kidneys makes a man… better in bed?"
If Rachel understood the undertone, she gave no sign. She narrowed her eyes and pressed a skewer into his hand. "Perfect. Eat more, then."
He gave a helpless laugh but took a bite. Softer than chicken hearts, fragrant with spices. Just as he was about to set it down, Rachel slipped him another."Eat. It's good for you.""This is coercion… by food," he said dryly.Her smile curved like she'd won something.
It took some effort, but he finished the kidneys she'd ordered. Just as he leaned back to rest, Rachel asked, "Doesn't all that kidney make you feel sick?"Felix's eyes widened. "You knew it would, and still kept shoving them at me?""It's for your own good. Builds strength," she said quickly, then added, "If you can't finish, we'll pack it up. I'll even pay for my share."
Would Felix let her pay? Of course—he would.He hadn't even seen a paycheque yet; his savings were already sliding downhill.
They left with takeaway in hand, strolling to walk off the meal. Los Angeles in July was merciful, no hotter than thirty degrees. In San Gabriel, palm trees rose in uneven tiers over manicured lawns, the stone path warm under the afternoon sun.
Rachel darted towards the grass whenever she spotted a small animal, only to startle it into running, laughing like a bell with her dress fluttering in the breeze. Felix found himself smiling too, an odd feeling sitting quietly in his chest.
Before he could make sense of it, Rachel's voice rang out ahead. "Look! A supermarket's having a grand opening!""What's there to see in a supermarket?""Come on, just for a look," she called back, running to take his hand with a light tug.
He didn't notice they hadn't let go.
A red banner hung above the entrance: 99 Ranch Market – Grand Opening of the 63rd Store. Flower stands lined the pavement; red paper scraps littered the ground. Someone nearby mentioned a lion dance performance earlier that morning.Rachel's eyes dimmed with regret. "Too late. I've never seen one in person.""No worries. We'll catch it when they open store sixty-four."Her smile returned, eyes bright. "Deal."
A staff member stepped over. "Special offers today—spend over $198 for a prize draw, plus a gift for couples.""We're not—" Felix began, but Rachel cut in with a polite "Thanks," and pulled him inside.
He pushed the cart while she picked through the aisles. Apples, bananas, jackfruit; bread, biscuits, yoghurt, instant noodles."Here—try this," Rachel said, holding up a piece of soy-braised duck for him to taste.
Felix bit down and brushed her fingers. "Good. Tender."She wrinkled her nose. "Gross. That's all your saliva."
He pretended to reach for her face with a damp finger, chasing her between the aisles until they drew stares and finally stopped, laughing.
By the time they checked out—with braised duck, shrimp toast, and crispy radish cake—they'd easily passed the $198 mark. The cashier handed over a pink cold-drink tumbler and a reusable bag.
At the prize draw, they won a "lucky prize"—a red string with a tiny orange watermelon charm. As a "couple," they were given a matching red one. One each.
It was evening by the time they got back to the apartment. Rachel collapsed on the sofa. "Exhausted."
Felix put the bags away. "Want a beer?"
She gave him a look. "Don't tell me you're the bar again."
He froze, caught off guard. But she didn't wait for a reply—just stepped over and settled herself on his lap. The curtain lifted on a different kind of scene.
Hours later, Rachel lay in his arms, playing with the red watermelon on his wrist."I never asked—but why did you suddenly come by today?"
"I missed you. I asked when you'd pick up your car. You said you were busy and to just keep it. Made me mad."
"Direct, aren't you?"
"Why hide it? Better to say it than keep it in."
"Fair enough."
She went quiet, then asked, "So… what are we?"
"Good friends."
She rolled onto him, eyes locked on his. "Say that again."
Her gaze was clear, her face stripped of its usual lightness—one wrong answer, and she'd be gone. Felix remembered the flush on her cheeks earlier that afternoon.
"How about… we try seeing each other?" he said, testing the words.
Rachel's smile bloomed, warm and certain. "Yes."