CHAPTER 1: HOW I MET HER
“If one day you had to witness the passing of the person you love, what would you do, Hoang?”
I didn't know how to face this question. She always asked questions like that, and I was usually the only one who answered them. The question came up when we were playing “truth or dare.” I originally came up with this game to get to know her better, back when I was trying to woo Diệu Linh. The game works on a very simple principle. A question is posed to the other person. If they answer correctly, they get to ask the other person a question; if they can't, they have to take a sip of alcohol or admit defeat. Diệu Linh always had the upper hand; she could always ask questions that left me speechless. Sometimes I really wondered about the messages she was sending in those seemingly insignificant moments.
She always had issues she couldn't talk about with her company. She often said things like, “I think people are so rude,” or “Today, some guys kept coming up to me and it made me very uncomfortable.” At first, I didn't want to get involved until early August two years ago. I was surprised by Diệu Linh's sudden outburst:
-What's wrong with you? Did someone bother you again today? Was it Mười or Phong?
-Um,.......it was...Phong.
Her voice sounded tired, typical of someone who had just finished work at 8:30 p.m.
-That doesn't sound very friendly.
I walked over to hug her as we usually did, but then
-Don't touch me, I'm disgusted!
Phong was the marketing manager where Diệu Linh worked. He and I knew each other because we used to go to the same bar. “спаситель души” (spasitel' dushi) was the name of that bar, which in Russian means “soul savior.” It was a very small bar with the structure of a typical tube house. The walls of the bar were divided into two parts, with two-thirds of the upper part covered in dark cobalt blue stickers and the lower part covered in wood paneling. I never asked Minh, the owner, what kind of wood he used for the paneling, only that it had a light fragrance and was slightly dark in color. The bar has only one long counter and never adds extra chairs for customers, as if Minh deliberately wants to chase them away. He did tell me that money isn't important to him and that he opened the bar just to satisfy his passion for being a bartender. I often come here to drink Aviation. This cocktail reminds me of my childhood dream of becoming a pilot. Phong also came here once and sat next to me. That day, he ordered himself a High Ball. It's a typical drink for people who come to a bar for the first time but want to show that they know something about it. At least he really showed the aura of someone who understands society.
Diệu Linh and I met by chance at спаситель души on a Wednesday in March five years ago. It wasn't raining that day, and it was very quiet because, unlike Hanoi or Saigon, the locals here turn off their lights and go to sleep at 11 p.m. As we were chatting animatedly, a young woman walked in. She had a striking appearance but was wearing a rumpled shirt and looked a bit disheveled. Minh and I were surprised that it was already 12:45 a.m. and a female customer had come to the cafe. Linh looked at Minh and me with a strange, crooked smile:
“Sorry if I interrupted your conversation.”
“No, you didn't interrupt anyone's conversation. You're a customer, so please sit down.”
-So you two don't mind listening to this crazy woman talk, do you?
-I don't mind, and neither does Minh. Everyone's stories are food for our souls. Please, sit down.
-My family had a relatively stable life, if not affluent. We were truly loving, and I hoped it would last forever. Unfortunately, they left too soon.
-Are you the young woman involved in the Ha Bridge accident two months ago?
Minh exclaimed when he recognized who the guest was.
-Yes. At first, I thought I could handle it, but I really couldn't. I'm an adult, so I should be stronger than this. I can smile, but that's all. I have friends, I thought I would be comforted. But what I feel is too empty... too empty.
-Calm down, don't laugh while crying. You look like you're crazy.
-Is it okay if I'm crazy?
-Do you see any woman talking like you, opening her mouth like a man?
-So what? I'm pretty, that's all that matters.
-Well, you are pretty, the prettiest I've ever met.
-Are you kidding me?
-If I didn't do that, you'd collapse crying and not drink anything. This is a bar, remember?
-I don't know what to order.
Now she seemed flustered. What had she been thinking before coming in here?
-Or should I buy you a drink? Let's settle it that way. Minh, give her a Margarita.
The cocktail was brought out, clear as water, lightly garnished with a slice of lime.
-Thank you, this drink is delicious.
-Do you know why I ordered a Margarita?
-How would I know? I'm not familiar with drinks.
-The story goes that a beautiful girl came to a bar in Mexico. There was a bartender there who was trying to perfect his cocktail recipe. The girl was a regular customer who often complimented him and helped him refine his cocktail formula. Because he admired her, he named the cocktail after her: Margarita.
-So you want to flirt with me? Well, thank you.
-It's a daisy.
-Daisies?
-If you translate from Spanish, Margarita means daisies. You know, daisies have two sides. The first is a farewell. The second is a comfort. You need them, right? That's why I ordered a Margarita.
The story made her cry again. Now I feel like a jerk.
-Thank you, really thank you.
-No need to thank me, we're from the same hometown.
-Don't be like that after you just bought me a drink. Do you have a phone number?
-I do, but I thought women prefer exchanging Facebook or Instagram?
-Do I look like an ordinary woman to you?
-You're right, no fairy would come here at this hour.
At that moment, I had unwittingly become her victim, just like how the Lower Bridge had done to her. We had unknowingly sold our souls to each other. I was the stage, and she was my actress.
