Pride and Prejudice
While Greg drove, I dug a little deeper into the YouTube channel’s comments and stats.
“Definitely looks like people who never would have given our channel a second glance are watching now.”
“Getting a more diverse audience is a good thing.”
“Yeah.”
People who followed Mello’s SNS channels would never have found their way to ours on their own, so even this kind of exposure was welcome. It felt a little like cracking open a new distribution network for a shop.
And because Vanessa’s channel also revolved around everyday life, some of her viewers’ interests overlapped with ours. Thanks to that, the ones coming over from her side seemed to settle in faster.
A portion of the new arrivals clicked through the performance video I’d linked, and once they’d finished watching that, most of them went straight for the most popular video on the channel homepage…
Our Luca and Reni were exploding in popularity all over again.
“Popular videos just keep getting more popular, don’t they?”
“That’s how it works.”
I kept staring at my phone the entire way to the church, right up until Greg gave my shoulder a light shove and told me we’d arrived.
“Hey. We’re here.”
“Oh—already?”
I turned around on pure reflex, thinking of the kids.
Both brothers sat side by side, mouths slightly open, each clutching his own comfort toy, sound asleep. Charlie usually kept them entertained the whole ride, but with no one paying them any attention they’d simply dozed off.
“Come on, don’t look so guilty. Kids fall asleep in the car all the time.”
“Still. Zoning out like that isn’t great.”
I used to find people who stared at their phones all day a little baffling. At this rate I was going to become one of them for the next few days—maybe even a whole week.
Once a video takes off, you can’t help tracking the comments, the traffic sources, and the shares in real time. Exactly the refresh-button swamp Cassandra had warned me about.
Greg killed the engine and glanced at his own phone.
“It’s not like you’re just messing around. Strictly speaking you’re checking on the business. Your livelihood’s tied to it now.”
“Yeah, that’s true, but…”
I opened the back door and gently woke Reni.
“Reni, we’re here. Time to get up.”
“Mmm… I haven’t eaten yet…”
He was even talking in his sleep; he must have gone under deep in that short stretch of time.
I left Luca with Greg, gathered Reni’s things, and walked him over to the waiting nun and Alicia. I settled Reni beside Alicia—who was watching the boy in silence the way she always did—and gave him another soft shake.
I’d considered just leaving him asleep, but I wanted to say a proper goodbye in case he woke up later and felt abandoned.
“Reni, Daddy’s going now.”
“Mmm…”
He simply wouldn’t surface. In the end I kissed his forehead and made a separate request of the nun.
“I don’t think it’ll happen, but if he wakes up crying or looking upset, please call me right away. Even a video call would help.”
On the way to Lemon Soup Pub I climbed into the back seat and woke Luca.
“Luca, time to get up.”
“……”
I was pretty sure his eyelids had just twitched. The even little breaths he’d been taking had changed, too. This kid—he still wouldn’t open his eyes.
I carefully brushed his soft hair back, but he kept them shut.
Fighting the laugh that wanted to burst out, I deliberately hardened my voice and tried again.
“Luca. If you’re awake, you have to get up. If you sleep now you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
Instead Luca closed the little mouth that had been slightly open, kept his eyes squeezed shut, and even turned his head away. He looked exactly like he was staging a protest for more sleep, and I couldn’t hold the laughter in any longer.
At home he always ran away the second I suggested bedtime; the car really must have been the perfect sleeping environment.
My laugh made his mouth twitch. I tickled under his chin and he finally surrendered.
“Kyaaaa!”
“Who are you trying to fool with that sleeping act? You’re not even a year old!”
I tickled his side and Luca dissolved into helpless giggles. The clear sound of a baby’s laughter filled the car, and Greg laughed along with him.
“Come to think of it, Luca’s birthday’s coming up soon, right?”
“Yep. November twenty-seventh.”
“Got it. So now we’ve got two birthdays to remember in November.”
“True. Rachel’s due mid-next month too, isn’t she? What did you decide about the company?”
Greg nodded.
“Yeah. They asked her to stay another month, but she brought up the due date and managed to wrap things up so she’s only working through this month.”
“Rachel really is competent. You and I could have walked out the same day and they wouldn’t have tried to keep us.”
“Who exactly are those cutting remarks aimed at?”
“Both of us—so we work hard.”
“Yes, sir, boss. Anyway, she was thinking she might start coming into the studio from December.”
I was a little taken aback. Going back to work only a month after giving birth…
“Isn’t that way too early? I figured even at the soonest she’d start in February next year.”
Rachel was already handling odds and ends for the studio online in her spare time, so remote work for a while wouldn’t be a problem at all.
“There’s no need for her to commute when she’s still recovering. Tell her she can keep doing what she’s doing from home and we’ll start paying her from December. You talk her into it.”
“I’ll try. But you know Rachel. She probably finds the office more comfortable than home.”
Mmm. I couldn’t argue with that, so I just shrugged.
Traffic was lighter than usual and we reached the pub in no time. We parked across the street and I was settling Luca into the single stroller when Greg asked,
“Cassandra’s at the pub right now, yeah?”
“Yeah. I think she’s meeting the wedding planner today about how to decorate the space for the big day.”
“Ah…”
Greg gazed at the bright street where lights were starting to come on one by one, looking faintly overwhelmed.
“What’s wrong?”
“…I’m already a little worried. I had no idea a wedding was this much work.”
“Well, yeah.”
It wasn’t something the average guy in his mid-twenties spent a lot of time thinking about.
Greg heaved a long sigh.
“Between getting ready for the baby and everything else we already have to handle, now there’s another mountain after that.”
“You can’t exactly skip the ceremony, though.”
“No way! I’m not missing Rachel in a wedding dress.”
Chatting about this and that, we headed for the ground floor of the pub rather than the rooftop. The weather had turned chilly enough that performances had moved indoors.
Even though it wasn’t open yet, the first floor was already buzzing. Warm Halloween decorations glowed orange against the classic mix of brown brick, wooden floors, and solid oak furniture.
Luca clutched his comfort bear and took everything in with bright, sparkling eyes. He still looked a little uneasy in the unfamiliar space, but curiosity was winning out, which was a relief.
“Jun! Greg!”
We were setting up the stage when Cassandra came down from the second floor and greeted us warmly.
“Cassandra.”
She beamed as she walked over. In that short moment I could already feel that she carried herself like the lady of the house here. She might not have intended it, but the way the staff looked at her and spoke to her made it obvious.
Honestly, I would have done the same…
“You’re early! Perfect—I wanted to check the jacket sizes for both of you.”
“Jackets?”
At my blank look Cassandra turned to Greg.
“Yes! Dimitri suggested it would look nice if his groomsmen all wore matching jackets. He said he’d already told Greg? Did you not hear?”
Greg, who had been checking an amp on the floor, looked up with an “oh right” expression. I resisted the urge to kick him in the rear.
“I’m fine with it. I was already wondering what to wear, so having something designated is easier. Should we head upstairs now?”
“Ah, the second floor’s a construction zone right now—dragging a stroller up there would be rough. I’ll run up and grab a few samples!”
With that Cassandra dashed back upstairs. She didn’t return right away; she was probably cornered by someone up there for a conversation.
After finishing the stage setup I watched the staff bustling with open preparations. Near the bar, a couple of them were struggling to replace a small exhaust fan. The waiter and bartender kept climbing up and down a wide ladder with the new fan and a screwdriver, looking thoroughly stuck.
“How the hell are we supposed to do this?”
“No manual?”
“There is, but the pictures don’t match. Did we buy the wrong one?”
Since the performance gear was ready, lending a hand for a minute wouldn’t hurt. I wheeled Luca’s stroller over.
“Need some help?”
“Oh—Jun, you know how to do this?”
“Yeah. Hand it over.”
Swapping out a fan was something I could do with my eyes closed. I climbed the ladder, yanked out the old unit, and got a chorus of impressed “ooohs” from below.
I gave the instructions printed on the side of the new box a polite once-over, then started connecting the replacement. That was when an older woman’s voice floated over. From the way she was grilling a waitress about reserved tables, it sounded like a large party was coming in today.
Then one line cut through.
“My goodness, has there ever been a prettier baby!”
I fought down the smile tugging at my lips and focused on finishing the install.
Yes, ma’am. Our baby is ridiculously cute.
Once the fan was perfectly in place I climbed down. The waiter and bartender both thanked me with enthusiastic thumbs-up. I washed my hands at the bar and walked back to the stroller. The grandmother was still standing there, unable to take her eyes off Luca.
As usual, Luca showed zero interest in the stranger.
“Papa.”
He called for me and stretched out his arms. I smiled and lifted him, and the grandmother stared at me as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“Papa?”
“Ah—I’m the boy’s father. Well, his godfather.”
The abrupt shift in atmosphere left me a little flustered. She folded her arms. Clear green eyes, elegant white-gold hair swept up, an expensive-looking scarf, handbag, and heels. Every inch of her radiated upper-class white society. She straightened her spine and raked me up and down with a sharp gaze.
Then, wearing the cold expression of someone who had just witnessed something deeply wrong, she said,
“Good heavens. I’ve seen white people raise Asians before, but never once the other way around.”