An abrupt slam startled Peng Bohai and swiftly he turned to the left, coming face to face with an empty seat. Jian Hong, Peng Bohai's co-worker, seemed to of drank himself into a stupor and had fallen face-first onto the cold floor beside him. The drunken murmurs of Jian Hong consisted of sweet nothings to his absent ex-wife of five years.
"Ah Hong!" Peng Bohai said fiercely. "Get up!"
Murmurs were the only response Peng Bohai received as well as a large belch. The more sobered one, Peng Bohai, paid both his and his co-worker's bill with a sigh. This was the umpteenth time he's paid both of their bills this week.
"Here," Peng Bohai said, climbing out of his now vacant seat and stretching his long muscular arm towards Jian Hong. "Come on. I'm not doing all the work."
Jian Hong groaned tiredly as he turned on his side and looked into Peng Bohai's eyes, mesmerized. His eyes reminded him of his ex-wife. And so began the flashbacks of happiness, heartbreak, and the cycle repeated. Peng Bohai flicked the drunkard's forehead, disrupting his trance and clued him into reality. The dizziness from the alcohol obstructed his vision and caused his mouth to water.
"Ah Hong!" Peng Bohai called.
Jian Hong slowly but surely took ahold of Peng Bohai's hand and stood up. Peng Bohai wrapped his arm under Jian Hong's armpit with ease and leaned him onto his shoulder. This wouldn't be the first time Peng Bohai helped Jian Hong out.
The aroma from Jian Hong's mouth wafted into Peng Bohai's nose and his stomach curled. The smell of stinky tofu turned out to be ten times worse because of an extra ingredient in Jian Hong's diet, Sour Mango beer. Peng Bohai's nose was not immune to this discovery and his face scrunched up in disgust. He never imagined he would be inhaling that kind of smell on this cold Friday night. Jian Hong suddenly looked into Peng Bohai's dark brown eyes again and he smiled.
"Let's get you a cab," Peng Bohai said gently.
"Have I ever mentioned to you," Jian Hong said with a hiccup. "That you remind me of my wife?"
"Yeah," Peng Bohai replied, helping his lonely co-worker out of the rundown bar. The cool air hit his face and the fresh feeling of contentment filled his lungs. The sounds of vehicles, soft voices, and the city echoed as Peng Bohai struggled to the curb.
"Ah-Ah Hai," Jian Hong slurred his name and whined while Peng Bohai practically dragged him across the pavement.
"Hm?" Peng Bohai replied while leaning against a sturdy pole. His nimble fingers slipped into his pocket and called the two lonely men a cab. Jian Hong hiccuped and swung his head to the side. The sweat from underneath his clothes increased by the second and made him uncomfortable.
"I want," Jian Hong hung his head down. "I want another round."
"You've reached your limit," Peng Bohai said and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Jian Hong didn't particularly take Peng Bohai's response well. Ridiculously, he thrashed his body back and forth.
Peng Bohai struggled with Jian Hong's pleas and whines, tiring himself out a lot more than he intended. Peng Bohai felt his age in every movement he made tonight. The construction schedule today took a major toll on his body and Jian Hong's childish antics drained him. He blamed a little bit of his fatigue on his alcohol intake but Jian Hong often gave him more than he bargained for.
"Let me go Ah Hai," Jian Hong whined as he wiggled his body.
"Would you just hold still?!" Peng Bohai said, trying with all his might to keep his co-worker in place.
"I want another round!" Jian Hong yelled angrily. His once calm and dazed eyes changed into an unknown hatred. And so he vented his anger through a swing of a fist into Peng Bohai's cheek. The impact from Jian Hong's sneak attack wasn't critical, nor painful, but it left Peng Bohai seeing red. His cheek throbbed and burned under the ministration of that hit.
Peng Bohai took a deep breath and headbutt Jian Hong. The rowdy drunkard threw his hands up to rub his forehead and fell backward onto the pole. Jian Hong clung to the rusty ole pole as if it was his savior, his shield, his greatest line of defense against the greatest evil spirit known to man, named Peng Bohai.
"Are you done acting stupid, Ah Hong?" Peng Bohai said with a firm tone. Peng Bohai locked gazes with the weeping drunkard and exhaled heavily. "What's going on with you?"
"Ah Jung!" Jian Hong cried and the tears of a sad, depressed, and lonely divorced man poured his heart out. Peng Bohai reluctantly sat down on the cold curb beside the weeping mess and patted his back. Peng Bohai knew what it was like to lose someone you loved by the seven-letter word, "divorce". After his parents decided on whom had custody of him, he never saw his mother again. He knew the pain of being separated and no matter how many drinks one consumed it never filled the void.
"It's gonna be okay," Peng Bohai encouraged and continuously patted Jian Hong's back gently. The gestures he devised didn't go in vain and Jian Hong ceased spilling water from his tear ducts. A moment of silence rested between the two construction workers and the night sang the city's soothing song. Both men locked gazes once more and Jian Hong smiled eerily. "Why are you smiling like-".
Peng Bohai's sentence shortened from Jian Hong spilling his stinky tofu and Sour Mango guts all over his clothes. Peng Bohai tried to rub some of the content onto the pavement but in spite of that, the potent smell waved hello to his nostrils. The problem Peng Bohai had was his attire. Peng Bohai wore his solid black elbow-length shirt today. So the option of taking off his non-existent jacket went out of the window. Peng Bohai cursed under his breath and rose up, stretching his limbs.
Thankfully, the taxi arrived, and again he struggled to get Jian Hong to cooperate. Jian Hong's pleas were loud and obnoxious. A one minute act of kindness turned into a six-minute tug of war. Peng Bohai growled in frustration but kept his temperament under control. He understood Jian Hong was hurt and was trying his best to mend the wound as best he could. Which is why Peng Bohai didn't hold a grudge against his co-worker. In fact, paying his bill and carrying him out to the taxi service for the past week exhibited his patience towards Jian Hong.
"Same place?" The taxi driver asked, familiar with his two customers' addresses. Peng Bohai nodded and reached into his wallet, fishing for some cash. "It's on me tonight."
Peng Bohai's eyes leaped in gratitude with the driver and thanked the man. He truly appreciated the gesture and smiled rightly. Jian Hong's whines continued, "Ah Jung!"
"To repay your kindness," Peng Bohai said, leaning against the open car door. "I'll take you out for a drink."
"Sounds good to me," The driver said and Peng Bohai nodded in respect once again, then closed the door. There, the sounds of Jian Hong escaped Peng Bohai's ears and the soothing night ambiance of Taipei coaxed him to finally relax. Unfortunately, the still-potent smell of Jian Hong's vomit still danced around his stern nose.
"We need to find you a new hobby, Ah Hong," Peng Bohai said into the quiet and peaceful night. His ancient running shoes carried him down the street to the night market. Peng Bohai's fridge was out of stock and knowing he would be babysitting his nephew in the morning. Meant the replenishing urgency from breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a must. As much as he wanted to go home and shower first, his fatigue wouldn't let him.
Peng Bohai walked around numerous stalls and inspected the most suitable. The most nutritious for his nephew and the only one he could actually afford at the time was the Fried Grilled Chicken. He sighed and walked on, turning the corner to the next stall.
Without warning, a figure bumped into Peng Bohai and both of them plummeted to the ground. The stranger who fell on top of Peng Bohai stared menacingly into his eyes. The complexion of this stranger was ghostly pale while dark circles painted its existence underneath their eyes. The facial structure of the stranger he couldn't make out very well. The hoodie concealed his true appearance and his jet black hair folded strategically over his eyes.
The stranger struggled, trying to release himself from Peng Bohai. Peng Bohai looked down and saw the stranger's sleeve was caught on his watch. The look in the stranger's eyes was the look of an animal trying to escape its prey.
"Where is he!?" a voice shouted in frustration in the distance.
"Get up!" The stranger whispered, and hurriedly pulled himself and Peng Bohai up. The stranger went to pull Peng Bohai along with him but his new "friend" stood adamant. "What are you doing!?"
"You think I'm gonna run around with you like a lost puppy?" Peng Bohai said, leaning in the stranger's face fiercely. "Listen here punk, I don't know what your angle is, but you better come clean on what's going on."
"I don't see him!" another voice shouted in frustration in the distance.
"I don't have much time!" The stranger whispered, trying to pull Peng Bohai with him. Peng Bohai studied the behavior of this stranger and estimated he was on the run. The question that roamed in his mind was, "What was he running from?". Peng Bohai contemplated helping the stranger but also he wondered if this punk was a criminal. If he helped him would he be an accessory to some sort of crime the guy committed?
Peng Bohai sighed and said, "If I help you now, you have to help me out later, ah?"
"Fine," The stranger said.