[Sim Daejung, Perla Small and Lee Daehwa]

The last few days, Perla has been quite absent. We don't talk a lot and, if we do, it's just to remind each other about our chores or our plans. Actually, her plans. I don't go out a lot, except for work.

However, today she's in for a major shock. "I think I'm going clubbing tonight. I haven't really had the chance to catch up with my buddies," she says. Who the heck are her buddies? What is she up to? Is she going to introduce them to me?

She continues. "Before we ask, it's a girls' only night, so you're not invited." She then provokes me. "Since you're a homebody, I'm sure you'll be fine here on your own, watching Netflix." As she's done talking, she disappears in the bathroom to get ready.

Now it's the perfect time to cook up a plan. No, it doesn't involve following Perla. It involves finding an excuse to go at The Stranger to drink and watch basketball games with some random people in the pub. But what kind of excuse?

What if Perla chooses The Stranger for her night out, too? That's unlikely, to be honest. When she means "going clubbing," she is serious. She really means going to an actual club with strobe lights and a live DJ set. And, possibly, with a VIP lounge.

Enough talking about what she's doing tonight. It's time to focus on myself, and when to leave home to avoid unpleasant surprises.

***

It's been nearly an hour and a half since Perla left. In the meantime, I've been absorbed in the millionth reality show. I think this one has reached a new peak of trash. I don't know if it's good or bad, it's trash. That doesn't apply only on what I see on TV, but also at the example that it sets on real life society.

When the show is over, I turn the TV off and look for the backup key, but can't find it. Perla has brought her own copy with her, which means that... there goes my plan of going to the pub. I'm stuck at home. For some reason, I'm bored as fuck.

I used to love staying at home, or at least until the pandemic ended. Things have since changed. Other residents' issues would catch up with me and I'd be so involved that I wish I could just run away. Plus, they could use it against me. That made me want to go out more and take a break from all the real life drama. It's more entertaining on TV.

Realizing that Perla will only taunt me even more if I stay at home watching TV and playing games, I decided to go out anyway. After all, it's not like she's going to be pissed out, especially if I manage to return home before her.

By the time I leave the house and close the door behind me, I check my pockets to see if I don't have anything that can get me into trouble. Suddenly, a bunch of keys pokes out of my jacket's left pocket. I pick them up and check them, wondering why they're still there. One of them turns out to be the key to the apartment's entrance door.

I'm lucky. My plan of a night out at The Stranger is safe.

***

The pub looks intimidating from the outside and is outright creepy inside. The predominant color is brown. Not even black, which would make it sleek but not scary. Lots and lots of brown. Many people would find it dull, but The Stranger isn't your typical to-go place for an ordinary night.

Apart from brown, another thing I see a lot is red. More specifically, red chairs and red lights. The lights are so bright that they make this place look like the surface of Mars. Isn't it just weird? It's just a pub.

Lastly, the scariest thing I notice inside is the sharp contrast between the wooden tables and counter, and the iron chairs. Yes, I can confirm that: the owner told me during my second visit here.

Even though I've been here four or five times already, The Stranger always manages to give me that particular vibe, a mix of unfamiliarity and discomfort. It's not a place where any sane people would ask their loved ones out. However, since I'm anything but, I'd do. And I'd be more than glad if someone asked me for a quick hook up. A real date, though? It depends on who I am with.

Not that I'm thinking of sending anyone to a date, though. I have other matters to deal with, such as a pint or two of whiskey.

I wave at the bartender. "Charlene! Hi! Are you having a gloomy night, as usual?" It took me three minutes to learn her name when I came here the first time. She always wears a necklace with a pendant with her name in silver. She believes it's trash, but at the same time she loves it. It feeds her ego, according to her.

Today, of course, is no exception. She knows how to make an impression. After all, she's paid to serve drinks to guests and entertain them, possibly in a way that's not degrading to her. She says, "Oh... Who do we have here? Sim Card, right? I was waiting for Black Horse, but he's late as usual."

She calls me "Sim Card" to hit on me. When I told her my last name is Sim, she started with this play on it. While it was lame at first, I think I like it now. It's my name in code at The Stranger and helps me to keep a low profile.

At least until now. I turn to check if Black Horse or any of his friends have arrived yet. Charlene insists. "I told you, he's late! He's never even been in time, to be honest."

She's right. The group of people who's just coming in isn't Black Horse's clique. It's none other than... Perla's! She told me she'd go clubbing. She isn't a good liar and I don't see what she and her prim friends can do here. This place is tough, you come here to drink and spew random shit on whatever, not to take aesthetic pictures for Instagram.

She gasps as soon as she sees me at the counter snickering with Charlene. The latter, on the other hand, comments, "Sim Card, is that Perla Small? Come on, you're staying at my ex's?"

My face turns red. What if it's only a lie to tease me? "Your what?"

Perla approaches the counter, followed by her friends. She scoffs. "Yes, my ex girlfriend. You could've known, Daejung, but I just felt uncomfortable talking about my dating life."

I chuckle. "Okay, okay, so you two already know, and I guess you're not in speaking terms." I scratch my head and bite my upper lip, then point at Charlene. "But, since you're at the counter and she is the bartender, you're forced to talk to her."

Perla changes subject, ignoring Charlene. "Let me introduce my friends." When she lists a bunch of names, I don't really pay attention, until I catch the last one. "And this is Day," she says, pointing at an Asian girl, possibly Korean, with a long pixie cut that is tied in such a small tail that it's barely noticeable.

And, then, in no more than three seconds, I recognize that haircut, that clouded expression, that ghost like skin. It's Daehwa! Perla knows her!

"Are you okay, Daejung? You seem upset," says Perla, but I'm more focused on Daehwa's gaze. I can't believe she's been so close! I thought we'd just move on with our lives.

Daehwa intervenes. "He isn't upset because of what you said, but because of me. We actually used to be on each other's throats back in South Korea," she explains in fluent English. She has changed so much since we had that phone conversation in 2021. I can't believe that!

Perla and the rest of her friends whisper behind their backs, leaving me and Daehwa glancing at each other like idiots, and Charlene chuckling at the two of us. This is my most embarrassing visit at The Stranger yet. I don't think things can go any worse than now.