#my writinf

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Charlotte Reigny, Lottie for the friends, is so fucking ready for this. She’s been preparing herself for this call, and done her homework on the subject. Her company had, after all, put the folder on her desk two weeks prior, and it was a high priority case; mistakes were not an option. It could mean a juicy raise, to get this done right, or a disapproving eyebrow from her boss, should she fail.

More than that, she pried herself in being the best at recruiting hopeful young athletes. She could drop weird, forgotten facts about almost any sport on demand, was known to make pretty solid guesses on who was going to win a specific Olympic game at the drop of a hat, had the best memory for names and abilities on the market, and was very persuasive.

She had this one on the bag.

Humming to herself, grateful for the years spent studying japanese, she checked the clock again to make sure time zones wouldn't get in the way, and dialed. As she waited for someone to pick up, her fingers trailed over the picture at the top of the file she made on the kid. Young, trained since age two on the sport, often referred to as a genius, but had kept a low profile long enough to ensure she wouldn’t have to compete against other agents? This was the golden egg goose.

“Hello?”

The voice broke her from her money-filled daydreams. Making sure to put on her brightest smile (people could tell, sometimes, what expression you had on just by hearing your voice, and she wanted to give the best impression), she focused her laser-like attention on this call.

“Hi! Am I speaking with Hasegawa Langa?”

“Oh, uhm, no, sorry.”

That… couldn’t be right. She looked down at her file, just in case she made a mistake (unlikely, but could happen once per century; maybe this was it?) but no, she had marked the correct numbers.

“I have this as his contact information, though? Hasegawa’s cellphone?” she tried again, because her information was spot on, but maybe her japanese was a bit rusty and whoever it was didn’t understand?

“Oh! Sorry, no, I’m Langa’s housemate. We are very close, and we kinda co-own each other’s phones, so maybe that’s why it got confusing. Erm, who is this? The area code is…”

And… Okay, Lottie didn’t have much patience, she saved it all for the hopeful young athletes she had to convince to come work under her company’s name. She hated to deal with families and the like, always so happy to talk about their precious kid’s achievements for hours, or nosy friends who wanted every little detail that, frankly, didn’t concern them. So in any other case, she would just ask for Hasegawa’s true number and hang up, but…

She wasn’t the best for no reason. A lot of her success was from hard work and painstakingly sculpted abilities, but there was no denying how helpful good instincts were. And hers were screaming for her to be nice to this kid. If a 19 year old was happy enough to share phones with his friend so much that even she could get her information wrong on which one was his, then they were probably insanely close, and alienating this person could prove to be very counterproductive.

“Oh, where are my manners? My apologies, I’m Charlotte Reigny. I work for H-Y, a sportswear company here in Canada, with many franchises all over the world”, she explained, voice carefully friendly, hoping to get the niceties done with soon.

Then, the kid’s voice got unexpectedly higher. She started, almost jumping out of her couch.

“That sounds cool! It must be an interesting job!”

He sounded… honest? Like he really thought it was something to get excited about. Bright and hyped, kinda like a puppy.

She felt her smile softening at the edges, and quickly corrected herself. She would not get soft by one small piece of praise. She was a professional thirty year old woman, invested enough in this case to even work from home (the appropriate time to call to the other side of the world was, sadly, out of her payed-for hours, hence why she was doing this from the comfort of her living room, champagne bottle at the ready to celebrate another success), and she would not get distracted by plebeian things such as unexpected fondness.

“It can be, at times. I get to know many interesting athletes, as our company likes to hire and sponsor them, to make young stars shine their brightest”, ugh, that was so corny, please bite the hook…

“And you wanted to… talk to Langa. Do you guys want to… uhm, sponsor him?”

Finally seeing the conversation go where she needed it, her smile broadened.

“Yes! We’ve seen footage of his last competitions, before he moved to Japan, and we were amazed! You have a very talented friend, Mr…?”

“Ah, sorry, Kyan Reki… And yeah, Langa is the best, isn’t he?”

The voice was both incredibly tender and unbelievably excited at the same time, which. Huh. Usually, people tended to get a little bitter and jealous, when she spoke about their friends being so good. Honest happiness about their abilities being recognized wasn’t the norm.

What do you know, she’d stumbled upon a good person.

Hastily, she wrote down the name. It would do her good to remember it, just in case.

“I don’t know about the best, but my company wants to make him so. If I could speak to him…?”

“Shit, sorry! I totally babbled at you, and you’re probably busy with work!” Well, she wasn’t, but if he didn’t know about time differences or wasn’t connecting the dots, it wasn’t her job to explain it to him, especially if it got him hurrying to pass the phone to her objective. “Yeah, give me a sec, he’s in the room. Langa! Hey, Langa! Phone for you!”

Muffled voice, as if Mr Kyan had covered the receiver, and then came the voice she had been waiting to hear all along.

“Uh, hi…? This is Hasegawa Langa...”

Knowing from her extensive search that the kid was Canada born and raised, she gratefully switched from japanese to english. She’d have to brush it, probably, since she was going to be working with him in the future and bilingual people would often switch back and forth when they couldn’t remember a specific word or turn of phrase, but this would do for now.

“Hello! My name is Charlotte Reigny, from H-Y’s sportswear. And let me tell you, Langa, we are very impressed over here about your past performances. Did you keep up with your training at all, these last few years?”

“Eh… Not exactly on snow, but I do train, and I have a kinda similar hobby…”

“Perfect!” That was better than expected; she was fully ready to dump him into a Personal Trainer’s hands to have him back in full shape, and was dreading the months it’d take. But if his words were true, it wouldn’t be that long. A fucking treasure, indeed. “So, Langa…”

“Ah!” came the unexpected gasp from the other side, like a little ‘eureka’. “I know H-Y! It’s a Canadian line, right? You’re from one of those companies that try to sponsor me, aren’t you?”

The mention of ‘companies’, plural (meaning competition), made her stop dead in her tracks, hand frozen where it was raised in a pre-emptive toast with her celebratory champagne. That was HER golden egg goose!

But it was nothing compared to what came next.

“I’m not interested. Thank you, though”, he paused, and then switched to japanese, conversation seemingly forgotten already, and asked: “Reki, is dinner ready-?”

She could hear a muted voice on the other side of the line, just before the dial tone.

What.

-.-.-.-.-.

“Hey, Lottie, good morning!”

“What’s up with the long face?”

She brushed past her coworkers, barely acknowledging their greetings with a quick nod, as she strode her way through the morning crowd towards the elevator, her boss’s office her final destination.

For the first time in her career, she’d need to ask for an extension in her deadline on this case. What would, to other people, be a normal occurrence, to her it was tantamount to getting a last notice before being fired. But she wasn’t giving up yet, not by any means. The easy dismissal, the clear indifference in the boy’s answer had been colder than Mount Logan on the harshest winter nights; but she did work for a winter sportswear company, after all.

This golden egg was perhaps a bit harder to crack than she had been expecting, but hey, better quality often meant that.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The next time she called, two days of preparation later, she was actually expecting Langa’s friend (Reki, she reminded herself after a quick look at her notes) to answer. It would be a good opportunity to hype the kid up, make him pester his friend about what a great chance this was, what a fool he’d be for rejecting the offer twice. Maybe it was a bit mean, to be half expecting someone else to do the heavy lifting for her, but. Well.

In her ex’s words, she was a right bitch. And he wasn’t wrong; she could be a bitch, and she tended to be right most of the time. So.

“Hi! Is this Reki?” she chirped happily as soon as the call connected, recently- brushed-up Japanese slipping almost effortlessly out of her tongue.

“No, I’m Langa. Who’s this, again?”

Oh. Okay then. She just didn't have any luck when trying to contact either of these boys, did she? Couldn’t they own a single phone each, like any normal middle class young adults?

“Langa! How are you doing? It’s Charlotte, I called the other day.”

“...”

“...from H-Y?”

“Oh, the sponsor lady. Why do you want to talk with Reki?”

The last word was the most emotion packed one she’d heard from the boy, in all their admittedly short exchanges. And it was his buddy’s name.

She carefully underlined the boy’s mention in her file, the way she would with a very close relative or a significant other. This kid was obviously above peon category, maybe a knight? A rock? Chess wasn’t really her thing, but that seemed about right.

“I just thought this was his phone, since last time I called he answered first. But actually, I wanted to speak with you again, if you have the time”, she said, like a lying liar who lies. Somehow, admitting to wanting to use Reki as a means to her ends seemed like a bad idea, and she did want to speak with her prey/ her company’s prospective future hire again.

“Ah. I’m still not interested.”

“May I ask why? I didn’t even tell you about the benefits we’re offering! How does vast sums of money sound to you? Interested yet?” she tried to joke, pencil clenched so tight in her hand it was probably about to snap in half.

“Mmmh…” Wow, was he actually considering it, that easy? From his fast reply last time, she would have thought the sale would be harder than just blatant bribery, but hey, if it got the job done- “No, actually.”

This motherfucker.

Suddenly, there was another voice in her ear. It sounded kinda far away and muted, obviously not meant to be heard, but clear enough in her overpriced phone’s speaker.

“Oh, you’re on the phone. Sorry dude, just came to tell you I’m headed out to meet Miya at the park. You can meet us there when you’re done, if you want?”

Then, the little shit, Langa, full volume, not even caring a little bit that she was still on the phone with him: “No! Wait, I’m done here, it was just a salesperson, it doesn’t matter. Reki, wait for me!”

And then he hung up. On her. Again.

And he called her a salesperson?

Oh. Oh, it was personal now.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Click. “Hi! This is Charlotte!”

“...Who?”

“We… spoke the other day. I’m from H-Y.”

“...”

“...About the sponsorship in Canada?”

“Ohh, it's you… No, thank you.” Click.

…. Okay then.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Click. “Hey, good afternoon, Mr Langa! It’s me, Charlotte from H-Y again! Is this a good time?”

“No. Good-bye.” Click.

…Fucking- Fuck.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Click. “Hello?”

“Hi! You are a tough nut to crack kid! Worry not though, my boss approved my petition to raise our offer to you, and trust me, you can’t reject this! Imagine adding a few zeroes to the number I told you about last time, and-”

“Oh, it's you. Bye.” Click.

That little…

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Click. “Hello! PLEASE don’t hang up.”

“... Hi? Reki Kyan speaking..”

“...oh. Good afternoon, Mr Kyan. I don’t think you’d remember me, but I’m from the H-Y company…”

“Just Reki is fine, Mrs. I remember you, don’t worry. What can I do for you? Do you want to speak with Langa?”

No. No, she didn’t want to.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, have a nice day! Langa, phone for you!”

The sound of phone changing hands, Reki’s whisper as he told his roommate who was on the line, then-

“Still not interested. Bye.” Click.

THE FUCKING-

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The number you’ve tried to reach is unavailable.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The number you’ve tried to reach is unavailable.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The number you’ve tried to reach is unavailable.

Has… Has Langa blocked her?

No… surely no.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The number you’ve tried to reach is unavailable.

THAT LITTLE SON OF A FUCK. DEVIL-DAMNED BRAT!

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lottie liked to think there were some lines not even she would cross, to get what she wanted. They weren’t, like, many of those, or very well defined, but they existed.

Thankfully, contacting family members of prospective new hires wasn’t a no-no on her books. Admittedly, it was a bit of a bitch move, but, as said before, she was a right one, and Langa had pissed her off.

“I just don’t understand…” Nanako trailed off, the sounds of something cooking in the background reminding Charlotte of her cooling dinner. She hastily took a bite of her omelette, hating the unprofessionalism of eating while on call, but needing to keep up the energy for this particular case.

“Hmm?” she asked, thankfully not sounding like her cheeks were stuffed with egg and cheese.

“Why call me? Langa is legally an adult. If, like you said, he refused, then I don’t know what else I can do for you. He makes his own choices.”

Well. Some kids tended to be weak to the Disappointed Mom stare, a fact she was heavily banking on. If only she could get Mrs Hasegawa on her side and on board with her kid making a killing as a professional snowboarder, then all would be good. She’d guilt her kid into fucking accepting Charlotte’s calls again, at the very least.

(She had the sneaking suspicion that he had blocked her from his -Reki’s?- phone, but no concrete proof.

That little brat.)

“I’m just afraid he’s not giving this opportunity proper consideration, and I’d hate for such an amazing talent to be lost so soon when he could still shine on the slopes for a long time, if he considered it.”

On her side of the line, Nanako hummed. Lottie briefly considered mentioning her late husband’s brief career as a snowboarder to hopefully elicit some memories that would help her case but… yeah, that WAS one of her lines. She wasn’t above using a mother’s expectations against her child, but reminding a widow of her lost love… nope. She’d actually feel bad for that one.

Frankly, she was appalled about that brief consideration she gave to the idea... Was exposure to Langa turning her into an even worse person? Did she need therapy? She probably needs therapy.

Or alternatively she’ll try to contact the bastard child again. If luck’s on her side, she’ll end up speaking with his happy go lucky friend, Reki. Last time, she almost felt like a decent person, and that was after like five minutes of conversation. Double that time and she’d probably cleanse her soul of any mortal sin.

“I can mention it in our weekly meetup, but you’ll have better luck if you get Reki to talk about it to him. Those boys are joined by the hip, it’s not like Langa can ran away from that conversation.”

“I would, but” she couldn’t exactly tell the woman that her son had blocked her on his (Reki’s?) phone, “I just have, uhm, Reki’s phone, that apparently Langa uses? It’s very confusing, I don’t know how to safely contact one or the other.”

Nanako laughed a little. “Oh, yeah, the phone thing can be a bit annoying at times. Here, let me give you both numbers, so you can check the one you already have and differentiate it from the other.”

Lottie would have swooned. Nanako didn’t deserve such an evil son.

“Thank you, I’d really appreciate it!”

After listing the numbers, the older woman stopped for a bit, brow furrowing.

“It’s a little weird, now that I think about it. I know Langa struggles with work and school. One would think he’d appreciate the opportunity to earn a bit more doing something that comes so naturally to him… Is the commune too far? You said H-Y, right? I didn’t know you guys had a branch office in Japan. The mountains are pretty far from here, maybe he dreads the travels back and forth?”

“Ah, we do have one, up north, but the boss actually wants Langa here, at the main office, in Canada. All moving costs would be covered, of course, so I don’t know why/”

“Canada, you said?” asked Nanako abruptly, sudden understanding in her voice. “Oh dear, no wonder. Yes, I’m sorry Miss Charlotte, but I don’t think you’ll get this one.”

“Is there… a problem with Canada? As far as I know, you two used to live here, right? Happy memories and all?”

“Yes, but you see, Langa found his happiness in Okinawa, and I don’t think he’s ever letting go of it. You can offer him all the money in the world, and I doubt it’d matter. What’s money to someone who thinks they already have it all?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“So I just make the fries now?”

“Yeah, let the chicken broth simmer with the butter thingie while you do that.”

“Oh, I see… when do I add the cheese, though?”

“Not for a while. Just focus on those fries, and leave your phone where it is on the counter, so I can keep an eye on the broth for you.”

Spending her Friday night giving a college student a cooking class wasn’t on her plans, to be honest. But somehow, after calling Reki and finding him utterly distressed, she couldn’t help but ask what was wrong. Apparently, today was a special date for him and Langa (Olley Anniversary? What the hell was that?), and Reki had been determined to cook the bastard child’s favorite food. But he knew jack shit about Canadian dishes, Mrs Hasegawa was at work and the internet guides he found were either in English or so badly translated that they might as well be for him. Lottie had called during Reki’s second attempt at replicating a youtube video, and while she tried to subtly ask about Langa’s weaknesses (happiness, Nanako had said in truth, but she called it as she saw it), the background sound of distraught teenager failing despite his better efforts finally got to her and she put the interrogation on hold to offer her assistance.

“Thank you so much, Miss. I would have never managed to cook this, let alone finish it in time for Langa to get back home.”

“What is he even doing outside at- “ some quick mental math; if it was friday, 11 pm at Canada, then for them… “- half past one in the afternoon?”

“Picking up a gift for me, I’m sure. All the more reason to make this as perfect as possible; he’s not a very good gift-giver, but he tries really hard, and I wanted to surprise him… You know, make him as happy as he makes me.”

The catch word, ‘happy’, reminded her that, oh yeah, she was supposed to be gathering information. Still, it was late, she was off the clock, and the ungrateful brat was not on the phone or near it for her to manipulate, so she could put off the interrogation for a bit longer.

“How do you know he’s doing that?”

“He said he was meeting with some friends, but I just spoke with Miya, and he was at home. I know for a fact Joe and Cherry are on a trip together, and Shadow should still be at work. Langa doesn’t have other friends. At least none that he would choose to hang out on a Saturday unprompted. And I caught him checking some skate stores online the other day, so he probably ordered something for me and went to pick it up.”

So, Brat was a bit of a loner, good to know. And apparently, subtle as a brick.

“Couldn’t he be buying stuff for himself?”

“In a skate shop? Not at all. Everything he owns, skate related, I custom made for him, and he has said on multiple, separate occasions that he’d rather chew off his own arm than use a store-bought board instead of mine.”

That was… surprisingly wholesome, for a hellspawn. Still, she was officially on her Langa breaktime, so she focused on the other bit of the spiel that caught her attention.

“Custom made boards? You do that?”

“Oh, yeah! I sell them around here; wouldn’t say I’m famous, but I make good money. I also made a snowboard once, for one of Langa’s old buddies. He called Langa some months ago, desperate for the number of the man who sold him his old board. Something about sportsmen superstition, dude only used the ones that older champions would consider useful. But Langa had long lost that contact, so he panicked and gave him my number. It was… an experience, making a new kind of board, but he apparently won the competition where he used it, so it’s all good. And he paid me BIG time, so I’m not complaining. Shipping it there was a bitch, though.”

“That sounds cool. Who was it? If he won a competition, I would probably know him.”

Hmm… Actually… Someone winning a competition with a custom made board? From Japan? Where had she heard a story like that before…?

“I can’t remember his name, but I posted a clip of his after-win interview where he spoke about my board on my insta page. I could text you that, if you want? Ah-! Fuck, the broth!”

“Oh, yeah, time to turn that off. How are those potatoes coming along?”

Reki, who had been just off screen, appeared again, holding a bowl with at least three big potatoes chopped in multiple uneven slices. Even if she had already seen him, back when he first begged her to face time so she could see if he was messing up and correct him, it still caught her a bit off guard. The boy was, just as she had predicted, sunshine incarnate; bright red hair, shiny golden eyes, slightly tanned skin. He dressed as a punk and smiled like the sweetest cinnamon bun. If she ever had kids, she’d like them to be just like Reki. Langa absolutely did not deserve such an angel for a best friend.

(Was she taking her dislike for the kid to the extreme? Maybe. Did he deserve it? Absolutely. Only her mother got to hang up on her, and only when she was being a bitch)

“Are these okay?”

From what she could see, some were a little too thick to properly cook, and some so thin they’d burn fast, but the majority looked okay enough. And the gesture was sweet enough that minor details like those would go unmentioned, at the very least.

Also, Langa didn’t deserve perfect poutine.

“Yes, they look good. Careful when you fry them. When is the b- Langa coming back home?”

“Ten minutes, probably. I told him lunch was gonna be ready by two pm, and he never misses it. He’s always hungry, I don’t know how his mom fed him, I’m struggling and I don’t work full time as a nurse.”

Was this bashing Langa time? She was so down.

“... but then again, he’s such a help with chores, it’s not like he doesn’t pull his weight. He’s also a really good listener, and lets me choose the movie every time, because he knows I get scared easily. Oh, and the other day, there was this spider, and he was so brave-”

Aw. Damn, she’d gotten excited.

Still, it was late, she was enjoying the last of her wine and Reki’s voice was very nice when he spoke about Langa, all soft and tender. Damn, he was so whipped.

…wait.

“Hey, Reki?” she cut off what would have, undoubtedly, been a very long ‘Love Langa’ speech “A bit of a weird question, but is Langa like… seeing anyone?”

The boy turned to where he’d left his phone, propped against some kitchen appliance facing him while he fried the potatoes. He blinked at her, confused.

“I think your Japanese got a little jumbled there. I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

Fuck. It was too late to think of the proper term. Whatever.

“Like, does he have a… favorite person? That he hangs up with, before anyone else? Someone he’s… sweet on” -fuck, she could feel herself mixing up the words. She did her best to remember what Nanako had told her, because really, what she said and what Reki had made her think of could very well be the same thing- “That makes him the happiest?”

“Oh… probably me, I guess”, he answered, eyes going back to the cooking food, ears turning adorably pink at the tips. “I mean, if you’re talking about joy… When he’s sleepy or relaxed, like when I’m combing his hair or when he’s lying on my lap… he tends to say I brought that back into his life…”

Ho. Ly. Fuck.

No. God, no, please don’t let it be Reki. She had gotten attached to the brat already, and she never got attached to anyone, let alone in under 30 minutes of conversation. LAnga absolutely did not deserve this one.

“...I’m so glad I could be a friend for him when he needed it the most.”

Wait. Pump the brakes.

“Friend? Not, like…” the word, what the fuck wasthe word. “Dating?”

Reki’s face, slightly pink from the heat of the stove, turned bright red in two seconds flat. What an ability.

“W- What?” he whipped his face to look at the phone, and then immediately turned back to the food as soon as he made eye contact. “No! We- We are just friends.”

Friends who lived together, were so deeply into each other’s pockets that they co-owned their phones, shared hobbies and had special, unique dates they celebrated together. Reki was fucking cooking him a foreign dish just to make him happy, for god’s sake, how much sappier could you get?

She had stumbled upon two idiots dancing around each other, hadn’t she. And, thinking back on Nanako’s words and what Reki had just told her, it suddenly became clear that Langa was rejecting what could be a chance of a lifetime to get a marvelously paid sponsorship, because he was hopelessly in love with his best friend and refusing to move away from him.

She didn’t even need to ask Langa to know, she was sure the brat was in love with Reki. How could he not? The kid was adorable, clearly smart and very considerate. She couldn’t think of a single of her exes who had even one of those qualities, let alone all three. Clearly out of Langa’s league, but hey, assholes often had that kind of luck in relationships. This was like her best friend and her ex all over again; sweethearts and fuckers togheter were God’s favorite prank on humanity, apparently.

“...I have to go, Reki. I need to sleep and wake up bright and early for some plotting.”

“Plotting like… a garden?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally. And just add the cheese and the sauce over the hot potatoes and you’re good. Good luck on your anniversary! Don’t tell Langa I called!”

“Oh, okay. Have a nice night, Miss! Will you call again to speak with Langa?”

“Actually… I’d like to talk to you about something to do with your boards first. But I’ll wait until after your date for it. Tomorrow?”

“Sure! It’s not a date though…”

“Whatever, kid. Goodnight!”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As promised, she called Reki the following day. It was a nice, fruitful conversation, and though Reki hadn’t promised her anything, she knew by the wonder in his voice that he’d talk it out with someone to hype himself up before agreeing.

So now, all she had to do was wait. Thankful it was the weekend, so she could laze around in her house, donning her favorite, Rich-Widow bathrobe, occasionally gazing at her phone on the coffee table.

When it finally rang, she looked at the number, to make sure it was the one that had her blocked until then. And after confirming, she cheerfully let it go to voicemail, because she wasn’t above pettiness.

The second time, though, she accepted the facetime request. This was still her job, after all.

“Hello?”

“Why are you trying to hire Reki?”

It was the first time she ever saw Langa, outside from the pictures she had managed to gather, from years before. It grated her nerves to admit it, but the bastard child was actually cute in those, and the years had been even nicer on him. Beautiful, in a prince-like sort of way; Light blue hair, ice-like eyes, skin fairer than Snowhite’s. And a delightful frown creasing such a perfectly symmetrical face. Ahhh, sweet revenge.

“Sorry, who is this?” She couldn’t resist. It was just too perfect.

“Miss. You know who I am. You've been trying to recruit me for weeks. Why are you after Reki now?.”

The smile on her face was nothing short of malicious.

“Oh, so he told you about my offer.”

“Reki is awesome, but H-Y uses Thriner’s boards for your athletes. Not custom made!”

“Well, some of our boys have been asking around for a change in that respect. After a certain someone got a custom made board from a ‘mysterious japanese manufacturer’, word got around, and my boss had been looking for him. Athletes and their superstitions, you know how it is. We want our boys to do their best, and that can only happen with equipment that's both top quality and makes them happy.”

“Reki makes mine, though. And he makes skateboards. The snowboard was a one-off.”

“Well, his ‘one off’ helped a kid in the rival company destroy one of our top champions, and got everyone all jittery for a Kyan Original. Also, you gotta learn how to share Langa, especially since Reki is going to be making them for all. My. Boys.”

Did she have to stress those words there and directly attack Langa like that?

Yes. Watching his face crumble with jealousy and rage was SO worth it.

To be fair, it WAS true that her boss was happy to hire Reki, if only to put their most superstitious athletes to rest. But even if he hadn’t, she would have paid for the kid’s salary herself if it got that kind of reaction out of Langa.

…She was getting way too much enjoyement over torturing a kid many years her junior, huh. Well. She never claimed to be a good person.

“He could reject your offer, though.”

It sounded a lot like ‘I’ll convince him to do so’, but Lottie wasn’t the best for nothing.

“Our offer was not limited to a juicy salary doing what he likes, we’d also help him enroll in a very prestigious Engineering college here. The one he’s at right now isn’t very good, as I’m sure you know. You wouldn’t want to get in the way of him following his dreams, would you?”

Langa’s face soured even more. Lottie wanted to cheer, but she made herself soften her voice. You grab more flies with honey than vinegar, after all, and she had one last ace under her sleeve.

“Listen. I know how you feel about Reki.”

“I… don’t know what you mean”, but the blush was oh so telling. So Reki was the oblivious one, while Langa silently pined. She was quite happy with this, to be honest. Let the brat suffer while her angel boy thrived in ignorance.

“Please, you are not subtle. Neither is he, by the way, although I’m sure he has yet to realize about his true feelings.”

“...you know that, and you still want to take him away.”

Langa’s voice was so low, almost broken. She actually felt for him, for a second forgetting what an annoying brat he was. He sounded absolutely heartbroken at the idea of losing Reki, she realized. Nanako wasn’t joking when he called him her son’s happiness.

“You know, my company’s offer is still here. You could continue your studies here, let us get you back to full shape, snowboard and model our menswear for easy money. Live with Reki while he chases his dreams, together with you… And that’s not even the best part. I have one last thing to tell you, and if that doesn’t sell you to the idea, I’ll leave you alone for good, no more calls, no more seducing Reki to the dark side.”

Charlotte laid back on her couch, smiling devilishly at the suspicious kid, waiting for him to bite.

“...What is it?”

“Gay marriage is legal in Canada.”

“...!”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A month or so later, she took her first day off in three years, to the surprise of everyone who knew of her workaholic ways. And instead of spending it in the spa, meeting with friends or relaxing at home, she went to pick up two jetlagged boys from the airport, to drive them to their newly rented apartment, halfway between H-Y’s central and the campus both boys would be attending soon.

Hugging Reki, perfect sunshine boy, was worth ruining her spotless attendance record. Langa’s quiet setting in the background, both stubbornly mad that she got her way and a little grateful for giving him the push he needed to finally ask Reki out, was just a bonus.