Messenger

Oh man, what am I doing? Joon found herself wondering for the fifteenth time that morning. Only this time she wasn’t leaving her basement suite across town, or hailing a cab, or standing on the sidewalk out front of the apartment building. This time, she stood at the gated front door, with its fancy metal grate, and she had just pushed the buzzer for apartment 203.

“Hello?” The answering voice was almost immediate, and it curled from the speaker above the buttons, smooth as cognac.

“Jesse, hi!” Joon squeaked. “Um. Sorry. It’s Joon. Ari’s friend? We met very briefly the other night… Uh. Anyway. Ari sent me over to—”

“Come on up, Joon,” he said, amusement
in his voice.

The door clicked open.

 

There was a short hallway that led to the rest of the flat, so she was unable to see the layout or cleanliness of the place, but from her vantage point at the front door, it seemed that Jesse (or his roommate, if he had one) had a fondness for leather jackets, Chuck Taylors, and the Edmonton Oilers. Here, the walls were white and bare. Someone had swept semi-recently.

“So, Ari just wanted you to tell me she’ll be running late tonight?”

“Yeah…” Joon looked away, realizing how idiotic she must seem, being Ari’s little messenger. She rubbed at her collarbone.

“Your hair looks nice.”

“Oh.” Without meaning to, Joon reached to run her fingers down the length of it, and felt a fleeting shock that it now ended in a blunt lob. That would take a while to get used to. She was surprised Jesse noticed, though, and felt her cheeks heat. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off…” Truthfully, she just wanted her own style to be farther away from Ari’s signature look of long, luscious locks.

“You can, especially with cheekbones like that.” Before the comment had time to make her whole face burst into flames, he continued, “So, is there a reason why Ari couldn’t come talk to me herself? Or like…text? Call?” He didn’t sound upset; in fact, he looked more amused than anything.

“Ah, but there’s no romance in that,” Joon replied, glancing back at him. “You’re new, but you’ll learn eventually: Ari can be a bit…”

“Extra?”

“Passionate.” Joon smiled, aware of his eyes on her. She was about to steer the conversation toward her friend’s finer points when she recognized the design on his t-shirt. “Wait. You know the Dirty Prunes?”

“You mean the best band ever, never mind that they’re local?” Hand pressed to the flat of his stomach, partially covering the logo, he raised his eyebrows. “That Dirty Prunes?”

“Yes. The very same.” Joon bit back a giggle, feeling he was building up to something.

“The same Dirty Prunes that I’m going to meet next weekend because I have a backstage pass?”

“Shut up,” Joon cried, and they high fived. “How did you get that?”

“My cousin knows the drummer,” Jesse replied, and motioned toward her. “I’m sure Ari would love it if you came with. That way, I can gush over the band with you while still seeming cool to her. You’d be doing me a favour, really.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Joon sobered. It was a lovely thought, but she knew how Ari would be if she didn’t think her new beau was giving her enough attention.

“Too bad,” Jesse said. “Just know, the invitation still stands.”

Joon, focused on her hands but accutely aware of his, couldn’t help but smile.