Chapter 14: Smoke and Beer Taste
This small Saigon pub is a pressure cooker. The air is thick, a mixture of German beer, sweat from a long day, and cigarette smoke that seeps into the wood of the tables and chairs. The dance music beats in the chest, not for dancing, but to drown out the screams inside each person. Laughter, clinking glasses, voices louder than necessary, all blend into a chaotic cacophony, a symphony of collective loneliness .
Ngan, fresh from Hanoi, was a lonely note in that symphony. She chose a hidden corner, where the darkness was a little thicker, like a black panther crouching on a tree branch. The black silk strap dress was not revealing, but the way it slid against her skin with each breath, the way it outlined the curve of her hips and thighs as she crossed her legs, was a more naked invitation than any display. The glass of beer in her hand was just a prop. What she was really drinking was the noise around her, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd, classifying, evaluating, looking for something that could break the monotony. The smile on her lips was not friendly. It was a cover, a silent mockery.
And then the peacock appeared.
Minh was a deliberate visual insult. His neon orange tank top was a rip in the otherwise gloomy panorama of the bar. He didn’t walk, he performed. He talked loudly, laughed loudly, every movement a show, a declaration: “Look at me.” He was the center of a small universe of his own making, and his goal tonight was to conquer the mysterious planet “Nurturing Sister” that he often teased online.
His eyes locked on Ngan’s dark corner. A flash of recognition, a hunter’s delight. He didn’t hesitate. Holding two glasses of beer like trophies, he cut through the crowd. His shadow slithered across the floor, swallowing the others before his body reached them.
“Boom.”
Two glasses of beer were set down on the table with a decisive sound, a gesture of occupation. He grinned widely, a smile that displayed his almost arrogant confidence.
“Hi, Sister Nurturing! I’m Minh. You’re much cooler in real life than online.”
Ngan didn’t look up right away. She swirled her beer slowly, watching the tiny bubbles dissipate. Then she looked up, her gaze not welcoming, but appraising. Sharp as a knife.
“Hello. You’re even more ‘bright’ than I thought.” Her voice was flat, without a trace of emotion, but each word was sharp. “With this outfit of yours, if you were trekking in the forest, even wild animals would run away.”
Another person might have been embarrassed. But Minh was not. He burst out laughing, a hearty, resounding, undisguised laugh, like the crowing of a peacock. “That’s right, sister! You have to be famous! By the way, why didn’t you tell me when you came to Saigon so I could take care of you?”
Ngan curled her lips, a real smile, a smile of enjoyment. This prey was not ordinary. “Let’s see if I have enough strength. You are very difficult to raise.”
The spark was lit. The duel had begun. They weren’t flirting. They were challenging, testing each other’s strength with words. And in the chaotic atmosphere of the pub, the two wild beasts recognized each other’s scent. A scent of rebellion, of disgust with convention. A scent of danger.