Jon Athan - Am I Beautiful?

Adam had already reached the bar by the time Dallas had caught up to him. Dallas pulled on his shoulder, but Adam jerked away from his grip, knocking him back a bit.

“Goddammit, not like this,” Dallas muttered with his hands on his hips.

Glaring at Miki, Adam asked, “Why are you here?”

“Excuse me?” Miki answered in a meek voice.

“Don’t play dumb. I know you understand me. Why are you here?”

Miki shook her head slowly and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Adam leaned closer to her and, raising his voice, he asked, “What are you doing here? Why are you following me?”

Miki shrank back in her seat. She looked to her left, then to her right. Some of the other patrons at the tables and bar side-eyed them, simultaneously curious and annoyed. The bartender, a young Japanese woman with short orange hair, watched them with confusion written on her soft, gentle face. She failed to comprehend the severity of the situation.

“Please keep your voice down,” Miki pleaded.

“Answer me.”

“What am I supposed to say? I’m just having a drink.”

“You’re lying . You’re a liar . You’re stalking me, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. Please don’t talk like that.”

Adam chuckled deliriously, then he asked, “What? Are you embarrassed? You’re afraid someone here might speak English? You don’t want them to know Miki Someya is stalking me?”

Mouth ajar and eyes wide, Dallas stared at him like he didn’t recognize his old friend. The man standing before him looked and sounded like Adam, but he didn’t act like him. He had never seen him so angry, although they had their fair share of arguments. Adam didn’t have a history of violence, but Dallas was worried he was about to strike the young woman. He raised his arm between them, ready to step in if the argument escalated.

Miki asked, “Why are you acting like this? I’m not ‘stalking’ you. We had a good—”

“Shut your mouth. Don’t you… Don’t… Don’t…”

Adam swayed, dizzied by his own anger. He was so angry—so furious—that he couldn’t even finish his sentence. The bartender couldn’t understand every word between the couple, but she felt Adam’s anger—everyone had felt it. She hurried to the kitchen to find her boss. Another waiter, a young Japanese man, approached them. He wasn’t eager to involve himself in the argument.

Dallas whispered, “Adam, you can’t do this here. Come on, man, let’s get you back to the hotel.”

Adam sighed, then he said, “There’s nothing between us. I made that clear before. I asked you to leave me alone, but here you are. You’re sitting here watching me while I eat , while I work , while I’m with my business partners . You’re sitting here trying to… You’re…. You’re trying to ruin my life.”

Miki opened her mouth to speak, but she was too hurt to respond. Tears welled in her eyes, her nose twitched, and her bottom lip quivered. She squirmed in her seat, swinging her head this way and that way. The music at the bar continued playing, but the loud chatter from the other patrons turned into whispers. She could see them watching her, every eye in that lounge fixated on her body.

A Japanese couple hurried to the cash register. Voice hushed but harsh, the man complained about the outburst and asked the cashier to call the police.

Adam noticed an envelope next to Miki’s glass. In black ink, a handwritten message on the envelope read: TO ADAM . He snatched it from the bar.

Miki sprung to her feet and yelled, “Stop!” Adam staggered back. Miki tried to squeeze past Dallas, but there wasn’t enough space. She yelled, “Adam, please!”

Adam took a sheet of paper out of the envelope and unfolded it. Reading the letter aloud to an audience of startled diners, he said, “Dear Adam, I know how I feel, but I don’t know where to begin. I guess I should start with an apology. I’m sorry if I upset you. My actions were inappropriate, and I understand that now. I never meant to bother you. I know I made some mistakes, but I’m really not a bad person.”

“Please stop,” Miki begged.

Dallas said, “Adam, this isn’t the place for this.”

Adam continued, “I care about you. I care about us. What I want to say is… I felt something special with you. You made me feel… alive . No. That is true, but it’s not what I really want to say. The truth is, I can’t even write what I can’t say. My hand is shaking, my eyes are crying, my heart is aching. Adam, I…”

He froze. He didn’t have to say it aloud to read the rest of the sentence. His blood ran cold, liquid nitrogen flowing through his veins. The whispers from the other patrons faded to silence. They watched Adam from the edge of their seats as if they were watching a stage play. Only music—some smooth Bossa Nova—played from the bar’s speakers.

“I love you,” Adam said, awed.

She barely knows me, he thought. How could she love me? It’s impossible. She’s crazy. He remembered Dallas’ advice: Embarrass her. He pushed Dallas aside, held the letter up to her face, and tore it down the middle. Miki put her hand over her heart and gasped. A dull cramp of pain spread through her chest, as if her heart had been ripped apart like her love letter.

The waiter stepped between them, bowed, and said, “ Sumimasen, sumimasen. ”

‘ Excuse me, excuse me. ’

Paying him no mind, Adam scowled at Miki and said, “Stay the hell away from me. Stay out of my life. I don’t want anything to do with you. I–I… I… I hate you. You hear me? I hate you.”

“That’s enough of that,” Dallas said as he pushed Adam towards the exit.

He apologized to the staff and his stunned business associates. He threw a 10,000-yen bill at the table, grabbed their coats, and then continued pushing Adam away. Adam kept glaring at Miki as he walked backwards. He only turned around after they reached the exit. Dallas scolded him on their way down to the lobby, but Adam could only think about Miki.

Is it over? —he thought.

In the lounge, the waiter turned towards Miki and asked, “ Daijōbu desu ka? ”

‘ Are you okay? ’

Miki was left standing alone at the center of the lounge, tears trickling from her eyes. She looked every which way, listening to the other patrons as they started gossiping. She couldn’t hear every word, but she felt like they were all talking about her. The utter humiliation caused her to shake and sweat profusely.

“ Kanojo wa bakada ,” a man said.

‘ She’s a fool. ’

While giggling, a woman said, “ Hazukashī. ”

‘ Embarassing. ’

Miki forced a smile, face twisted in pain and wet with sweat, tears, and mucus. She grabbed her jacket and fled the lounge, sniveling every step of the way.

There was another moment of dramatic silence.

Then a tourist started clapping and whistling, as if a show had just ended.

No one else cheered with him.

Adam sat at the foot of his bed in his underwear. The blinds and curtains over the window were open, showcasing a beautiful view of the busy city and allowing the sunset to wash his room with an orange glow. A city of endless opportunity waited below him—gorgeous landmarks, delicious food, specialty stores, unique nightclubs—but he refused to leave his room.

His thumb hovered over a name on his cell phone’s contact list. The name read: Amber Miller . He could see her fiery red hair, bright brown eyes, and tender smile in the picture next to her name.