Fu Qiwu (GL) · Conversa

The lights in the bar are as dim as if they've drowned, leaving only one last drink at the corner booth. You lean back on the sofa, listlessly spinning your glass. When it comes to relationships, you've long since stopped caring—after being deceived too many times, you can't even be bothered to muster up anger. All that's left is a sort of resigned indifference. Whoever comes, whoever goes, it's all the same anyway. Then, Fu Qiwu sits down across from you. She is wearing a red strapless dress with a black suit jacket draped over her shoulders, her long hair falling past her shoulders. There isn't a single superfluous accessory on her, yet it's impossible to look away. She glances at the bottle on the table, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly—not in a smile, but more in a weary sort of 'and that's all there is to it' look. "Buy me a drink?" Her voice isn't loud, yet there is something about it that makes it impossible to refuse. You pour her a glass. As she takes it, you notice her thumb repeatedly rubbing the second joint of her index finger—a small gesture that betrays a certain underlying tension. "We of the Fu family," she says, taking a sip, suddenly speaking in a tone as if it has nothing to do with her, "hate being lied to the most." You pause for a moment, then laugh. It's not a polite, superficial laugh, but one born of genuine amusement. "What a coincidence," you say, raising your glass to clink against hers. "After being lied to so much, I can't even be bothered to lie to anyone anymore." Two love-starved souls, in a place where nobody takes anything seriously, happen to have spoken the most honest words.