Mystique
Saturday afternoon at the Lemon Soup Pub.
“Seriously, he’s shy even with me now.”
Greg said it with a look of genuine hurt. Luca hadn’t greeted him the way he usually did, hadn’t even returned a simple hello.
“Still, at least he’s not about to burst into tears the way Bianca did that time. We’ve got to count our blessings.”
As he spoke, he locked Luca’s stroller firmly in place beside the temporary partition. They had asked Dimitri for the favor, and the screen did a good job of shielding Luca from the rest of the audience while still letting the little boy watch me perform from the front row. That alone was a relief.
I crouched down, took both of the baby’s hands, and whispered quietly.
“Our Luca, you can watch Daddy’s show today without crying, right?”
“Mmm…”
If Luca started crying or calling for me, Cassandra was prepared—regrettably—to whisk him out to the car. I hoped with everything I had that it wouldn’t come to that. I didn’t want the baby wailing through the whole set, and if he really couldn’t handle it, future gigs would get a lot harder.
Finding a skilled guitarist who actually clicked with us as a last-minute sub wouldn’t be easy. If I had to drop out, Greg might lose the Lemon Soup stage for a while.
He’d said it was fine, but of all the places he could play, this was the biggest. Letting the chance slip away would be a real waste.
Heart pounding, I backed toward the stage while keeping my eyes on the baby, then sat down and picked up my guitar.
“That’s my good boy, Luca. Daddy’s going to play the guitar now, okay?”
Maybe the distance was too great; Luca didn’t answer. He just watched me. Still, for all the faint tension on his face, he didn’t fuss or reach out to be held.
I began playing the low, gentle melody I usually used to lull him to sleep. And just like that, Luca’s eyes started to grow heavy.
“……!”
Wait—is our Luca going to fall asleep for me? Is that what’s happening?
If he does, that would be perfect…!
Of course the baby didn’t drop off right away, but a small spark of hope still rose inside me.
Somehow this place felt like the ideal training ground for easing Luca’s stranger anxiety and separation issues. If we could do this kind of “practice” even once a week, maybe he’d overcome the worst of it faster.
Whatever the case, it was a hundred times better than the daycare, where he’d cried the moment I was out of sight.
“Good evening, everyone. Tonight we’ve prepared…”
The set began, and the wonderful little boy yawned while listening to his dad’s guitar and singing, then soon nodded off completely.
I couldn’t count how many times during the performance I wanted to clutch my chest in sheer relief.
Who knew all those nights of guitar lullabies would pay off like this.
And so the show ended without a hitch.
Afterward, my farewell party was held on the first floor of Lemon Soup.
The party took place in the same private room where I’d once shared a meal with Dimitri.
Luca and I, along with Greg and Cassandra, claimed our seats first and waited. Soon Maria and Rachel arrived, both looking casually fresh and bright.
Clink!
“Congratulations on leaving!”
“Congrats! Running off all by yourself, huh!”
“Thank you.”
We toasted and I downed a cool glass of apple cider. Sweet, crisp, and perfect.
Once the appetizers arrived, the mood warmed in no time. Good background music, delicious food, and good people—laughter bloomed almost instantly.
Maria asked,
“Feeling a little bittersweet at all?”
I glanced sideways at Rachel before answering carefully.
“A little bittersweet, yeah.”
“Jun, you don’t have to watch my face anymore. I’m not your boss now.”
“Is that so? Then honestly… it feels really liberating.”
A wave of laughter rolled around the table, and the main dishes began arriving one after another. We set to work with our forks and knives.
Greg took a hearty swig of the dark beer that came with the food and spoke with genuine encouragement.
“That’s right—just forget it all and make a fresh start.”
“Well, not quite ‘forget it all’…”
“Oh, no? Jun, I figured since what you’re doing now is going so well, you might be thinking the whole company stretch was a waste of time.”
“I can see why someone would think that, but…”
And the reason I was leaving probably hadn’t looked great from the outside either. Still, I didn’t really regret my years at the company that much.
“I got a lot out of that place, in my own way.”
It had been the thing that kept my life upright for the past few years, and besides…
I looked around the table at the people sitting with me and smiled.
“I met so many good people there. So I don’t really feel like the time was wasted.”
“That’s just because you’re a good person, Jun.”
“Haha.”
I laughed sheepishly, and Maria, grinning playfully, pulled something out of her bag and held it out.
“Here, Jun. A leaving present!”
What she handed me were two brightly wrapped packages that looked like Christmas gifts.
“Ah… you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble…”
I froze a little holding the two small, pretty presents, so Cassandra gave me a shake.
“Open them already, come on!”
“Is it okay to open them now?”
“Of course!”
Rustle.
“Oh, they’re adorable…!”
The first exclamation came from the soon-to-be mother, Rachel.
The first gift was a pair of tiny, pure-white baby socks.
“Ah, those are from a friend of mine who saw Luca and asked me to pass them along. I showed her your channel. They’re from her shop—apparently the most popular pair.”
That tracked. There was nothing overly fussy about the design, but the material and quality were excellent.
“I’m really happy. Please tell your friend thank you.”
If I film Luca wearing these socks and upload it to YouTube, would she like that?
I carefully stacked the sock set to one side, still smiling, when Cassandra—clearly thinking the exact same thing—narrowed her eyes and grabbed Maria’s arm.
“Tell that friend not to go for free product placement! Have her run a proper ad and I’ll give her a good rate.”
Huh? Product placement?
Cassandra wasn’t joking; she pulled out her digital business card and told Maria to pass it on. Maria laughed and said she’d send it right away. So she’d known all along.
“Jun, I’ll handle the ad-fee negotiations, okay?”
“Yes, please. Please do.”
Whether the shop would actually want to advertise was another question, but if real negotiation ever came up, Cassandra would be far better at it than me.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Of course Cassandra was looking after her own interests too, but having a manager I could trust was still a huge comfort.
Rustle.
The second gift from Maria was a high-end wristwatch.
“Oh, nice.”
Greg grinned and clapped me on the shoulder while I just stared at Maria, stunned.
“Maria, this is…”
She smiled and pointed at Greg, Rachel, and Cassandra.
“Not just me—all the ‘good people’ you met at the company chipped in. There’s a card with the other employees’ names too, so check it when you get home.”
“…Thank you.”
“We’re the ones who should thank you. You were a great colleague.”
“…….”
Something like a butterfly fluttered around inside my chest.
I’m really glad I met such good people.
Even without Dimitri present, the staff provided warm service. The food was excellent and the atmosphere stayed lively the whole time.
“Eh…”
“Hm? Yes, our Luca.”
The tiny cooing sound twisted something in my chest. At home this baby’s voice could rattle the windows.
I lifted him out of the stroller and settled back into my seat with him in my arms.
“Is our Luca hungry? Sleepy?”
“Eh…”
Apparently he didn’t want anything particular; he just gave me a sunny little smile. Even his voice was soft. People he saw all the time, and still he was shy.
A little sad and a little fond, I pressed a kiss to his cheek. He giggled and leaned his head against me.
“Maria, how long did it take your kids to get over stranger anxiety?”
“They were different. The first one really struggled once he started daycare. The second one seemed faster—maybe because he had an older brother.”
I turned to Cassandra next.
“What about Charlie?”
“Oh, don’t even get me started. Charlie slept in my bed until he was eight.”
“Aigoo, that must have been rough.”
“……?”
I didn’t think it sounded all that bad, actually.
Whatever I was thinking must have shown on my face, because everyone laughed.
“You’re going to cry when Luca gets married, you know.”
I thought it over for a second, then nodded.
“Probably full-on wailing.”
“Most dads don’t do that.”
“Why not? I know a guy who got something close to depression when his daughter got married.”
“That’s a bit…”
“It’s hard on the kids too. You have to treasure your own life first. That’s better for you and better for the child.”
“Mm, correct. When you’ve got your own solid life, you don’t fall apart right alongside them when they’re struggling.”
“…But don’t most parents feel like their child’s life is their life?”
You have to watch them all day, look after every little thing, play with them…
“That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do.”
“Haha.”
Luca didn’t seem especially hungry yet, but it was roughly mealtime, so I fed him the baby food I’d brought and settled him back into the stroller.
“So what’s the plan from here?”
“Now I have to throw myself into being a YouTuber.”
It felt a little funny, but only after I’d handed Evan Brown my digital business card for the first time and introduced myself that way did I finally feel like a real YouTuber.
Maybe it was because I’d said it to someone I met through work, not just an acquaintance.
I pushed down the sudden bashfulness and said,
“This is my main job now, after all.”
“That’s right—you’ve got to become a star!”
“Well… not necessarily that… Ah, and ‘star’ is more for people like Greg.”
I pointed at Greg, who easily looked the most celebrity-like person at the table. His eyes went round.
“Huh? What are you talking about? For me it’s just a hobby.”
“How do you figure?”
“Performing is what keeps me alive and happy, but I want to be a musician, not a star.”
So those weren’t the same thing after all. Huh.
“I see. I was being narrow-minded.”
I must have assumed anyone who played music—especially anyone who loved performing—wanted to become a star.
Greg shrugged.
“If the chance comes I’ll take it, but I’m not hanging my whole life on it. And stars aren’t made—they’re born.”
“Got it. I still thought wanting to perform at all meant you wanted to be the best.”
“Thinking you can’t be the best and therefore not performing at all is the weird part. Sure, I used to bomb audition after audition and quit for a while, but…”
He said he’d rediscovered the pure joy of singing and playing, and that he was happy with where he was now.
“That’s right—you look so cool when you sing your own songs.”
“Thanks, my love.”
I set my fork down. Wow, I still couldn’t get used to that.
Whether they genuinely didn’t notice my reaction—or Maria and Cassandra trying not to laugh—the two of them only had eyes for each other, honey practically dripping from their gazes.
…Well, whatever made them happy. I snorted softly, picked my fork back up, and asked,
“So you’ve completely given up on death metal then?”
The imaginary pink flower petals floating around Greg suddenly seemed to drop to the floor with soft little thuds.
Still can’t let it go completely, huh.
Instead of answering, Greg changed the subject.
“Ah, and I agree with Cassandra. From where I’m sitting, you’ve got star quality.”
“Why? Where? How?”
“Hmm, how should I put it… mystique?”
“…….”