"They don't realize that in a few years, none of this is going to matter."

The bruise on Yao's cheek had nearly faded by the time work rolled around on Thursday. It was a yellowish colour now and it didn't hurt so much when he pressed his finger to it. Yao had to work the register this time, which wasn't all that great as he didn't care to talk to the people, but it was still better than delivering, so he wasn't complaining.

He didn't have much longer to work, though he still had to stay an hour after the restaurant closed to clean up. Mei kept a tight ship. Not that Yao was upset by this. This wasn't the worst place to be tonight. Yao looked up at the old "coca-cola" clock on the wall with a quiet sigh. He only turned around when a little bell rang behind him to signal that someone's food was ready. Yao picked up the plates, sat them down at a table of young women, and resumed his same position at the counter.

"So what is that on your cheek? You think I wouldn't notice?" Mei usually talked to him in Chinese, and this time wasn't any different. It was actually kind of funny, though. Chinese was easier to speak, first off, and it clearly freaked out the customers half of the time. Americans were so paranoid.

"It's nothing, Mei," he said. She never bought that. She came around to the front and forced him to look at her. She touched the bruise and frowned. "I hate him," she said. "He's a bastard. Pardon my language, Yao. I just can't stand it. You need to leave him."

Yeah, he knew. He needed to leave. He needed to fight back. He needed to call the police. It was simple.

He didn't argue with Mei. She always said things like that. She didn't understand and she probably never would. But at least she cared.

When the bell on the front door rang, Mei and Yao both looked up. It took Yao a second to realize that it was Ivan. He wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed, happy, or both. He was smiling as he always was when he approached the counter. Mei looked frazzled, most likely because of the mans size. He was pretty frightening at first glance.

Ivan didn't even look up at the menu before saying, "I haven't eaten Chinese food in six years. What would you suggest?"

Mei began to speak, but Yao quickly tugged her hand to stop her.

In case you didn't know this, you never ask for a suggestion from the workers at a restaurant. They're going to make money no matter what you get, and more often than not they'll suggest that you order the food that is going to expire soon because they need to get rid of it as soon as possible.

"Hm. Well, I personally like the Lo Mein best," Yao said. Mei shot him a suspicious look.

"I'll have that then and just water. Thank you," he said with a smile that caused Mei to pinch Yao's hand. Once Ivan sat down, Mei pushed Yao into the kitchen and began frantically talking in Chinese.

"What was that? Do you know him?"

Yao nodded. "Yeah, he's a friend."

"You weren't looking at him like a friend, sneaky butt!" She said excitedly.

He looked out at Ivan, who was taking off his coat. Yao grabbed him a glass of ice water and went out to give it to him, despite Mei's protests. Ivan smiled up at him and gave him a nod. "Thank you, sneakybutt."

Yao paled. Oh damn. "How did you . . . ?"

"She slipped out of Chinese a few times," Ivan said, nearly laughing.

Yao blushed. "Well, just ignore everything you heard in there. We aren't used to people actually listening to our conversations. Especially Mei." Yao turned and looked back at Mei, who was trying to spy on them from the little window connecting the counter and the kitchen. Yao yelled, "You need to be cooking, Mei, instead of watching me! You're scaring the customer!"

Mei ducked back down into the kitchen. Yao slid into the seat across from Ivan. He wasn't supposed to do that, but nobody was eating at the restaurant tonight except for Ivan and that group of girls by the window. "How are you, Yao?" Ivan asked. Yao played with the soy sauce container on the table.

"I'm good," he said, nodding like he was trying to convince himself. "How about you, Ivan?"

"Good, Good. It's snowing, so that's nice."

"You like snow? I thought only children liked snow. They don't know how terrible it is to drive in," Yao said, smirking and leaning back.

Ivan took a sip of water. "This is nothing compared to Russia. The driving in snow is so much worse there."

Yao stood up when he heard a little ding from the kitchen. He grabbed Ivan's plate and sat it in front of him before sliding into his seat again. "So . . . do you miss Russia?"

Ivan laughed and unwrapped his fork. "Oh, no. No. I do not. One time I am going down the highway and some guy needed to merge, and the traffic was terrible this day. It was backed up and everyone was getting angry. Anyways, this man needed to merge, and I come up next to him. The man unrolls his window, looks at me once, takes out a pistol and points it at me. I had to let him get in front of me. I was upset, but if I would have taken out my gun from the glove box, none of us would have gotten anywhere. The people are very . . . well, you know. And Russia hasn't recovered fully from the Soviet Union, despite popular believe and claims."

Yao blinked a few times. "You keep a gun in your glovebox?"

"Not anymore." The Russian took a bite of his food. "It was just in St. Petersburg for safety when I had to drive through the bad parts."

Yao crossed his arms. "Ivan, I'm going to ask a serious question. Have you ever committed a crime? I mean, a major one. One where they had to take you in for days at a time at least?"

Ivan frowned and took a drink of water. "I can see why you're concerned, Yao, but I haven't committed a crime where they've taken me in for days at a time. I've had tickets for things like parking in the wrong place. I don't need to commit crimes. People who commit crimes commit them, most of the time, because they're going to get something out of it. I have the things I want, so crime is out of the question." Yao looked at the soy sauce container again while Ivan ate a few more bites. "I just had to be sure. You can be sort of . . . intimidating."

Ivan smiled faintly. "I know. It is not something that I can help, though, so I don't think about it."

Yao smiled. "Anyway, Ivan, you really don't miss Russia at all? I just thought you'd miss some of it. I know there were things about China I hated, but I still miss it."

"Honestly, Yao," he said with an off kind of smile, "There are things I miss about it. But I don't feel very welcome there." Ivan played with a noodle on his plate with his fork. Yao leaned back. "Why not?"

Ivan didn't look up, but he did let out a short laugh. "Ah. I don't know. Lots of older reasons and recent developments."

"Recent developments?"

"Well, it's illegal to be a homosexual there."

Yao's eyebrows twitched up. "Wait, you're-"

"Da, da. I'm gay. I didn't think it was that surprising," he said, smiling. Yao blushed and looked down. He had a feeling that the Russian was gay, but he wasn't exactly sure and it would have been rude to ask him that. Wait, did he know that Yao was gay? Was that why he was spending time with him? Yao gulped and looked up at Ivan again. "Now that I think about it, I guess it isn't. I mean, I am too, but I have a boyfriend." Yao cringed at the word.Boyfriend. The word didn't sound right when used to describe Francois.

Yao watched the table of girls in the corner of the restaurant finally leave. Ivan crossed his fork over his plate and leaned back. "Yes. I knew you were when you answered your phone last week. I also knew you were in a relationship for the same reason."

Shit. He did know. He knew about Francois and he probably knew that he treated Yao like shit and suddenly, he felt like an idiot. Ivan would try to talk about the situation with him, judge him for not leaving by now, and suggest he try to fight back. He would begin to believe that it was Yao's fault for staying in such a screwed up relationship, just like everyone else did.

"Yao, how often do you go out?"

Yao was never more relieved than when someone didn't ask him about Francois. This was definitely one of those times. "Uh, not very much. I mean, oops, often. Not very often."Because Francois won't let me, he thought.

"What are you doing Saturday?" Ivan asked. Saturday? Shit. He had work on Saturday until 10:30. His shoulders slumped and he pouted. "I have to work until 10:30."

Ivan nodded. "Perfect. Can I pick you up here after work?"

Yao's face brightened for a second. "Sure, that would be-" he stopped. What was he doing? Francois expected him home at 11. He didn't want to piss him off like he had last week. He sighed and shook his head. "I actually am not sure if that's such a good idea. I'll be tired, so, uh, I think I'll take a rain check, Ivan."

Ivan studied Yao. "I'm going to be honest, Yao. You're enticing. Look at you." He grinned. "You're beautiful." Yao blushed and looked down at his apron. "Ivan, are you serious?"

The Russian raised an eyebrow. "I said nothing about the way you looked, but you are definitely attractive, too. Even in that apron." Yao looked away. Was it hot in here or what? "I think you'll find a lie to tell him. Maybe tell him that you're going to restock and it may take a while. Tell him you may have to stay until 2, but you're going to get paid more. That is how you'll prove it. You'll say 'the boss felt bad for making me stay late and she gave me my money I made overtime early.' At that point, you'll pull out 200 dollars to prove it to him. You'll talk to the boss about this, just in case you need to call her to lie for you as well. You're family, da? She'll do it for you."

Yao didn't blink. "Do you understand how dangerous this is? I don't think you do, Ivan." Yao watched Mei lock the front doors and turn off the neon open sign. Ivan nodded. "Trust me, Yao. I'll pick you up, we'll go out, then I'll drop you off at your car and you can go home."

Yao's breath quickened. "I'm so bad at lying, Ivan. You don't understand. A-And what if he goes by the restaurant to see if I'm there and I'm gone?"

Ivan's eyebrows furrowed. "Tell him you had to take the bus to go to pick up some specific cleaning supplies that the boss wanted. You had to take the bus because your car wouldn't start for some reason. That explains why your car will still be there."

Yao was so afraid, and yet, he wanted to do this. He wanted to go out for once without Francois breathing down his neck. "Okay. Alright. Be here on Saturday. Wait, where am I going to get money to prove to Francois that I stayed and worked?"

"His name is Francois?"

"Ivan! I need to know where the money is coming from!"

Ivan pulled out his wallet and took out two hundred-dollar bills. "Here," he said, sliding the money across the table. Yao's jaw dropped. "I can't accept that."

"Yao, this is nothing. Take it. It'll offend me more if you don't."

Yao hesitantly took the money and clumsily shoved it into his own wallet. Tonight was a weird night. "Thanks, Ivan. I've got to go, it's getting late."

Ivan nodded and put his coat back on before standing up. "I'll see you Saturday?"

Yao smiled and nodded. "You bet."

Once Ivan left, Mei grabbed Yao's arm harshly and sat him back down at the table. She grinned and said, "Tell. Me. EVERYTHING."

To Be Continued . . . .