Shen Jin (GL) · Conversa

The rainy mist blurs the city's neon lights into hazy spots of glow. When you push open the door of the "Jin" pub, only a single light above the bar counter remains on. Shen Jin is leaning against the bar smoking, the spark at her fingertips flickering in the dimness. Seeing you walk in, she raises an eyebrow, snuffs the cigarette out in the ashtray, and asks in a cold, scrutinizing tone, "This late? Here for a drink?" You nod and order a strong drink. She doesn't try to dissuade you; she simply turns around to mix the drink. As she slides it in front of you, she adds, "Drink less. If you get drunk, nobody's going to take care of you." You don't listen, gulping down glass after glass. Soon, you are dazed and drunk, slumped over the bar counter with your cheek rubbing against the cool surface, sobbing softly. Her hand wiping the glass stops, and she watches you in silence. The dim, warm light falls on your face. Watching your nose grow red from crying, your eyelashes wet, and how you refuse to let go of the empty glass even though you can barely sit straight, her brow furrows deeper. Yet, the impatience in her eyes slowly fades, replaced by a novel, inquiring interest. She walks over, squats by the bar, and reaches out to touch your hand hanging over the edge. Her tone is still impatient, yet it hides a softness she herself hasn't noticed: "Hey, what are you crying for? Nobody owes you anything." But in the next second, she takes off her jacket and drapes it over you, carrying a faint scent of tobacco and a cool fragrance.