Chapter 3: Peanut Butter

It had been a month since I left Kimchilandia, and I still hadn't started looking for jobs. I don't want to make excuses or anything, and I know this will sound totally lame and unacceptable but... I was so in love with my new apartment.

I now lived in a penthouse in BGC. Faye had outdone herself. She had bought the unit for me and had had it completed—retrofits and furnishings and all—in under a month.

Faye really does know me well. She knows exactly what theme, furnishings, and activities I love, and she had taken them all into account while searching for my new home.

I had an infinity-style plunge pool with a Jacuzzi at the end. It was where I kept finding myself spending most nights in, holding a glass of wine and indulging in a platter of cold cuts and gourmet cheeses.

Faye had converted one of the three bedrooms into a library-office hybrid space and had gone further by adding titles I had always wanted to read but never had the time for.

And the best part of my pad? The kitchen. It had all the elements I needed to do MasterChef-style cooking. There was even a vertical green garden and a mini produce farm on the rooftop for my herbs and spices.

Instead of meeting up with headhunters and recruitment specialists to put my impressive CV out there, I was spending all of my time inventing desserts, honing my plating skills, reading book after book after book, and binge-watching Netflix and Hulu in the Jacuzzi area.

It would have been impossible to do all those things in Korea. My official working hours had been the usual 8 to 5, but there was an unwritten rule that the lower your position, the earlier you arrived and the later you left.

Unfortunately, our CEO would come to work at exactly 7 AM, so the VPs and the Directors arrived a bit earlier at 6:45, managers like myself clocked in at 6:30, and most other staff came in at 6:15. Meanwhile, entry-level employees and interns were practically in the office 24/7.

As for clocking out, let's just say that one of the reasons my skin got fairer and fairer was because I never saw the sun. The earliest I had left the office was at 10 PM, and that sort of thing happened only once in a blue moon.

Remembering all that, I started feeling angry again. I had slaved for that company for 10 good years, and they had just thrown me away like unwanted garbage.

With all the crying and drinking I had done back in Seoul after getting fired, it's a wonder I was able to settle things and move back to Manila. It was all thanks to Faye, again. I'm grateful to have her as my pillar. She had flown to Korea and had handled the messy affair of uprooting my life over there and replanting it here. She ended up selling or donating most of my stuff, but I didn't complain. It wasn't like I had good memories with them or something.

Mom called from time to time. She kept pushing me to get my ass out of the pool and get a job. I understood that she was worried. I was 31, and I still had my whole life ahead of me. Still, I wasn't ready to take the next step, whatever that was supposed to be.

I was confident that it wouldn't be difficult for me to get another high-paying job—well, not as high-paying as Samsong, but still—because of my credentials and achievements. I thought finding a new job should be a breeze.

I didn't want to hide my sexuality anymore, either. I wanted a job where I could take my significant other along whenever there's an event where families are invited. I wanted to be able to post Instagram photos of our picnics or date nights together without feeling the need to block every single person from the office. I wanted to be me.

That was the scary part, the part that was making me think twice about applying for this company and that. I didn't want another BJ-gets-fired-for-being-gay incident.

Financially, though, I was not that worried. I may have been a jobless millennial, but I had a sizeable amount of liquid cash at my disposal. Plus, I had a healthy, profitable investment portfolio that earned a decent profit, enough to keep me living in comfort. And there was Faye, of course. She had done such a fantastic job of growing the money I had invested that I could actually retire at that point. I was never going to be as rich as Faye and her husband, but at least I could live a life of comfort and peace.

At a quarter before midnight, I got a text from JM.

Hey, wanna hang out tomorrow?

And then, another one: Ms. Faye told me you were back. I figured I'd invite you for a movie or something.

And one more: And maybe we can grab some dinner, together? After the movie?

Sure thing, I replied. What movie do you want to watch? I'll make the reservations.

Uhm, I just checked the schedules... there's nothing good, really! Sorry!!!

Lol! So no movie then? Just dinner?

There's Jumanji, though... you cool with that?

Yeah. Jumanji's fine. The first one was funny.

It was, wasn't it! Just hope this one doesn't have the curse of the sequels.

Curse of the sequels?

Yeah, you know? Sequels that suck? Iron Man 2?!?!

Yeah! Haha. So, we meet at the mall at 2? Movie starts at 2:30

Want me to pick you up?

No, no! Thanks for asking. I'm driving so I guess I'll just meet you there.

Okay. See you! ?

Flirt!

Good night, BJ!

Night, JM!

***

I woke up early the following day and called Faye to accompany me to get some pampering done. Faye has access to the top salons and the stylists of prominent people, so last-minute beauty fixes are never a problem for me.

Faye arrived at the apartment at 8 AM, looking plainer than I had expected her to be. It was the first time since college that I had seen her in casual clothing. She probably didn't fix herself up because we were going to have facials and the like. She was still beautiful, though.

"Mmm, it smells nice," Faye said as she entered.

"So you know my door code," I said as I served the Monte Cristo sandwiches and some grapes and sliced oranges at the breakfast bar. Faye dropped her bag on one of the tables at the foyer before sitting on one of the high stools.

"Delish!" she said as she took a bite from a sandwich. "What's in this?"

"Gruyere cheese, glazed ham, sliced turkey, Dijon mustard... You know, just the usual."

"No, I don't know," she said, munching and dipping and almost choking on the sandwiches. "It's really, really good. And this dip! It's not like normal chocolate."

"Dark chocolate mixed with hazelnut cream," I explained. "The bitterness counters the powdered sugar, so the whole thing doesn't taste as sweet."

"Mmmm." She was now on her third serving.

"Want some OJ? Or coffee?"

"Coffee, please. Latte, double shot."

"This isn't Starbucks!" I said jokingly as I made her a latte using the espresso machine she had gotten me as a welcome home present. Normally, I drink drip coffee, so I had never thought of buying an espresso machine, but it's handy for picky guests like Faye, or when I make desserts like affogato.

We finished breakfast and set off to get ourselves pampered and to get myself ready for my date with JM. It was a hectic morning of pampering and shopping. We managed to finish everything and had some light lunch at Greenwich, for old times' sake, before going home to change. Faye helped me pick which clothes to wear to make me look cute without being overbearing.

"Go get laid!" she said, laughing.

"Aren't you leaving, too?" I asked her, my hand on the door.

"I am. Just go! You'll be late!

***

It was difficult getting a parking spot, but I managed to get one across the mall. It was paid parking, and I made a mental note to myself to buy a membership so I'd always have reserved parking.

When I got to the cinema, JM was already there, sitting on an indoor bench. He stood up and kissed me on the lips.

"Too fast, don't you think?" I said jokingly.

"What? We've done more than that!" He laughed.

"Yeah, the kiss that got me fired," I answered.

JM's expression changed. "So I heard from Ms. Cassie."

"What? You guys talk about me now?"

"No, no!" JM said, defensively. "Ms. Cassie came to the bar a few days after we met. She was with some clients. I asked about you, and that's what she said."

"I see. It's all in the past now. I'm back here in the Philippines for good."

"That's good news to me, but are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course. Come, let's get tickets," I said, trying to change the topic.

"Okay. Wait here, and let me get us some popcorn and drinks. What flavor do you want?"

"Hmm... Salted? Barbecue's fine, too."

"Got it."

JM disappeared in the crowd and came back a few minutes later carrying a big bucket of popcorn and an extra-large cup of Coke. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"You're joking, right?" I said.

"Gotta help save the environment, so we have to share a straw."

We were laughing as we entered the cinema. It felt good, joking around and flirting with a cute guy. It was a relief, too, especially after everything that had happened to me.

"Open up," JM said as he placed a few pieces of popcorn into my mouth, his fingers brushing against my lips as he did so.

His flirting game was at Level 100. Halfway through the movie, I felt him plant a lingering kiss on my neck.

"What's that for?" I asked, embarrassed.

"I couldn't help myself," he whispered, eyes on the movie screen. "You're too cute."

I grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it in his mouth for revenge. He spat everything out and snickered.

"Can I hold your hand? Don't worry. I won't put it anywhere inappropriate."

Good thing it was dark and he didn't see me blush. He didn't wait for my answer. Instead, he grabbed my right hand with his left and interlocked our fingers. He didn't let go for the rest of the film, not even when he scratched the tip of his nose.

God, I thought. What have I done to deserve this hottie?

The movie ended at four, so we had time to spare before dinner. We walked around the mall while holding hands, looking at the window displays and occasionally trying out clothes. I ended up buying a new leather backpack that could be converted into a formal suitcase.

At around 6, JM dragged me to the arcades. We played House of the Dead and cleared it after dying several times. The moment we finished the game and the word "CONGRATULATIONS" flashed across the screen, JM pulled me in for a kiss. It was the same deep kiss that had gotten me fired, but that no longer mattered.

I noticed some high school girls taking pictures of us and giggling. I dragged JM away from them, and he was smiling like an idiot.

We went to the top floor of the mall, the location of the Japanese restaurant where I had gotten us a reservation. JM and I ordered their signature ramen. I also ordered a few side dishes like tempura, karaage, and some edamame beans.

"Did you enjoy the movie?" he asked.

"Not really."

"Oh. How come? I thought it was funny."

"Because someone kept trying to give me a hickey, so I couldn't concentrate on what was happening."

JM laughed. "Sorry, I really couldn't help myself." He was blushing as he said it.

"I still think we're going too fast."

"Well, we're both adults. We're not students anymore. I don't see any reason why we should play around first before taking things seriously."

I didn't know how to answer him. He had a point. We were both old enough to know what we wanted. And we both wanted sex. Or at least I did.

"How old are you again?"

"27. You?"

"See? You don't know anything about me yet you still keep kissing me."

JM laughed again. "I may not know much about you, but I do know that I want to kiss you."

I swear to God he flirted for a living.

"Smooth," I said, smiling. "Why don't we play a game? Something that will allow us to get to know each other better."

"I'm down for it. Which one?"

"It's called Twenty Questions, which is also the title of an award-winning play written by Juan Ekis," I explained.

"Cool with me," JM answered. "I'm actually familiar with that. I think I read it in college."

"Really? So I take it that you already know the rules?"

"Yeah. But let's do 10 questions instead," JM suggested.

I agreed and asked him to start the game, but he insisted that I go first.

"I wanted to go second so I could ask the last question, but whatever," I said. "So, here goes. First question: What's your biggest mistake?"

"Wow! You're going in for the kill this early in the game?"

"Someone's got to win, remember?" I raised an eyebrow and smirked in a slightly mischievous manner.

"Was it Yuna? Or was it Yumi? I forgot the name of the female lead in that play. She wanted to win badly but ended up losing because of her overconfidence. You might end up like her!" JM joked.

"Just answer the question," I said impatiently.

"Okay, okay," JM said. "I think my biggest mistake was dropping out of college. I majored in Creative Writing. I got scared of doing my graduation project. Now I'm 27, wasting my life as a waiter."

"Wait, you're a writer? I did not see that coming at all."

"Not a good one, apparently. I couldn't even finish the project I started."

"What was it about?"

"LGBT romance. Rich guy meets poor guy—the usual trope."

"And I did not see that one coming, either!" I said, laughing. "So what was the problem with it? You didn't know how to finish the story?"

"Not really. I knew exactly how the story ends; I just didn't want to end it. It was too heartbreaking to write."

"Give it a happy ending then," I suggested.

"That doesn't happen in real life," he said. "Not for people like us."

I wasn't sure if he meant homosexuals like us or poor people like him.

We were quiet for some time. I didn't bother reminding him that it was his turn now. Instead, I focused on eating my noodles.

"You cheated! You were entitled to one question, but you asked four!" JM was smiling again. "My turn now." He cleared his throat before asking, "Spit or swallow?"

I almost choked on my chicken karaage. What was he playing at asking a provocative question like that?

"Are you serious?" I managed to say after gulping down some water. "I can't believe you!"

"Come on, someone's gotta win, right?" he said, laughing.

JM could probably see me blushing so hard. "Swallow."

"Nice!" he cheered.

"Shut the fuck up and don't make any more comments," I warned him, and he kept smiling like some idiot who just won the lottery.

"I like it when they swallow. It makes me feel wanted."

"I said no more comments!"

"Alright, I'll stop," he said, still smiling teasingly. "Your turn."

How do I recover from that attack? I thought for a while before finally asking him, "Describe your first time."

"Hey, that's not a question! My turn now, right?"

"What? No!" I protested. "Fine. What was it like when you had your first sexual experience?"

"Wow. Trying to tie the score now, aren't we?"

"Stop mocking me and just answer the question, JM," I said.

"It was...sweet," he answered, laughing to himself.

"I didn't know you were a romantic," I answered, unsure of what was happening.

"No. Not that kind of sweet. There was peanut butter everywhere," he said, embarrassed as he scratched his head.

"What? You went that kinky on your first time?"

"Not real peanut butter. You know... The other one..."

"I don't get it."

"We didn't know proper cleaning techniques back then. As soon as I took my thing out, there was shit everywhere, the type that looks like peanut butter. And I'm telling you, there was enough of it to make a pot of kare-kare!"

"Eeeeew! You've ruined peanut butter and kare-kare for me!" I complained loudly. "That's disgusting!"

JM laughed aloud. "Sorry! I was just answering your question honestly. I was 15 and didn't know any better. Besides, there weren't any smartphones back then. There was no way we could have checked how to flush out."

"I'll never be able to look at peanut butter and kare-kare the same way ever again," I said, still recovering from the shock and the images that formed in my mind of JM covered in peanut butter. The dirty kind.

"Goodbye to PB&J!" he joked. "My turn. It's the fourth one now, right?"

"Yes. My turn!"

"What? That wasn't my question!" JM laughed. "You asked me about my first time, so I'm gonna ask you about your last. What was your most recent sexual encounter like?"

My most recent sexual encounter? It had been with Hyuk, before we broke up. Or rather, just before I caught him doing it with a girl. On my bed.

"It was a mistake," I replied. "A bad mistake."

"Err, details please?"

"No follow-up questions, remember?"

"Unfair!" JM complained, frowning but still gorgeous. "So you wanna play dirty now, huh? You just wait for my next one."

"You better bring it," I teased. "Fifth one: What's the best ever gift you got for your birthday?"

"A kiss from a really cute guy. He let me kiss his soft neck, too."

Wait, what? Was he talking about our kiss at the bar?

"Yeah, you don't have to ask. It was you. That day was my birthday," he said.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"There was no reason for me to. I was really happy that it happened, though."

"Happy that I got fired?" I joked.

"In a way," he said. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be here with you, right?"

Damn. This guy had a PhD in flattery. "Okay," I answered shyly.

"Now that you know it was my birthday back then, what other gifts would you like to give me?"

"Technically, you didn't copy my question, so I'll let it slide. Hmmm... I'm not really sure what you like and what you don't like, so I'll go for the safe ones. Probably shoes? Or a really good cake?"

"A cake?"

"Yeah. I'm a pretty good baker. I can make really good cakes."

"Okay," he said. "Your turn now."

JM didn't seem too keen on the cake. Maybe he wasn't into sweets. I figured I should remember that.

"So when did you find out you were gay?"

"I'm not gay," JM answered. "I'm bi."

"Really? I don't believe in bisexuality, to be honest with you."

"How come?"

"I think people just don't want to be branded as gays. They have this notion that being bi sounds a lot more acceptable or cooler."

"How so?"

"I mean, you know how the word 'gay' carries the connotation that we're effeminate, cross-dressers, or the drag queen type?"

JM nodded.

"I don't really know about other countries, but at least in Korea and in the Philippines, that seems to be the case. Gays who have never had a single erection for women claim to be bisexual just so they're not grouped together with the effeminate ones. And there's nothing wrong with that!" I added. "Being effeminate, I mean. And being a drag queen has nothing to do with sexual preference, either—I hate how Filipinos have that perception! There's no one way of expressing your gayness, right?"

"Yeah, but I am bisexual. I've slept with women before. I've even had long-term relationships with them."

I nodded in acknowledgment. "So when did you realize you were attracted to guys, too?"

"You can't trick me. It's my turn now." He chuckled. "How was your best sex like?"

"Is that all you're gonna ask about all night? My sex life?"

"I need pointers!" he said, pretending to rummage his nonexistent bag for a pen and paper. "In case, you know, we get intimate."

Goddamn it. Why was he so smooth? I had dated a significant number of men but none of them were like him.

"You'll be disappointed," I started. "My best sex was just plain sex. Boring, old missionary style. Humped and humped until we both orgasmed."

"What makes it the best, though?"

"It's a long story," I said with a deep sigh. "Do you really want to hear it?"

JM nodded, never taking his eyes off mine. "I want to know everything there is to know about you."

"I was in love with my roommate for the longest time. It didn't help that he was touchy-feely. He hugged me all the time, kissed me on the forehead before going to bed—the things straight best friends don't normally do. I fell for him. Hard."

JM listened, absentmindedly playing with his ramen.

"But I never had the confidence to confess. I knew it would be a disaster if he didn't feel the same way. At the start of senior year, he got a girlfriend. The bitch confronted me one day asking why I spent so much time with her guy. She then spread rumors that I was gay and that I was trying to influence her man."

"Shit," JM said.

"She also had someone take a picture of me and my roommate hugging while sleeping. Nothing happened!" I explained after seeing JM's look. "We had two beds, but we never had time to fold our clothes, so everything was on his bed, and we slept on mine. It was summer, so it was pretty hot. Wontaek slept with his shirt off, and so did I. I think she asked one of the nearby dormers to enter our room and take a picture of us. And then she uploaded it to the student message boards.

"The next thing I knew, Wontaek had gone to Canada to study English. And I was left alone to deal with the aftermath. Nobody dared to sit with me at the cafeteria. People pointed fingers at me and didn't bother whispering whenever they talked about how disgusting gay people are. It was hell. I was a social pariah. I had no choice but to leave school. Luckily, I got accepted at Samsong and my professors let me skip classes.

"Wontaek came back, though, and we saw each other by chance in the subway. I tried to run away the moment I saw him, but who was I kidding? There was no way I could escape from a running train, right? He caught me, took me out as soon as we reached the next station, and kissed me. We took a taxi to his place and made love. I don't know, I guess it was memorable because it gave me all the answers I needed to hear back then, back when we were roommates. Did he feel the same way? Was I really just his best friend? Could I not be anything more? All those things were answered that night we were together."

We were silent for a bit, and then JM spoke. "Wow, that's some teleserye material you got there," he chuckled nervously. "Did you guys continue to see each after that?"

"We dated for a bit. Stuff happened. We broke up. Now I'm here."

"Okay. I'm not going to probe any further, but thank you for telling me. That was beautiful."

"My turn now." I didn't know that it was still uncomfortable for me to discuss Wontaek. He's like the one that got away (cue Katy Perry). Seriously, though, all of us have that one heartache we just can't forget. That's what Wontaek is to me.

"So question number 9," I said. "Why did you kiss me the first day we met?"

"It's been a long time since I was last in a relationship," JM started. " I swear I don't normally do that, and I'm not usually that confident. I don't know what got into me, and I don't know why I felt the urge to do that to you. I just couldn't help it." He shrugged, brows furrowed deep in thought. "I was debating it inside my head, you know? But then I figured you seemed to be attracted to me, too." He smiled. "So I gave it a shot. The worst I could get was a slap, right?"

It was a straightforward answer. Simple, but enough to jumpstart the oxytocin-producing mechanisms in my brain. Faye had said JM had a boyfriend, though. I should've asked about it.

"Last question now, right?"

"Yes," I said excitedly. "Make it count!"

"Will you be my boyfriend?"