Chapter Seven: Christmas Eve
"This is Yamashita Tomohisa's song?" mused a handsome auburn haired man from the back seat of a luxury car. His dark brown—nearly crimson in hue—eyes glimpsed curiously at the woman manning the steering wheel while he was, evidently, preoccupied with scouring through YouTube videos. "Sakura, you recognise this song, don't you?"
"Yes," replied his manager from the driver's seat. She was a young woman with dark brown hair cut into a cutely styled bob-cut with gentle brown eyes. For the last three years, while he was based in Japan rather than in Taiwan at the Honda Agency, she had been contracted to him. Their relationship was clearly professional compared to how previous female managers tried to come onto him in the past, and he admired her for it. "This boy sings it quite nicely."
"His dancing isn't bad either," the singer mentioned. "Honestly, he blows half the competition we've seen today out of the water. I have half a mind to look for this boy instead of sitting through another day of this audition."
"You can't do that, sir," the Japanese woman admonished. "That wouldn't be fair to the boys who've applied and made it this far."
"It's not like I promised to take one of them personally under my wing," reasoned the singer. "I told the talent scouts and producers that I would sit in and help them judge, but I've yet to see someone I like." He glanced over to the boy in the focus of the camera. "Besides, he looks familiar."
"Does he now, sir?"
"Yes, he does," the singer murmured under his breath. "He kind of reminds me of my older sister... but I suppose you don't know who she is, do you, Sakura? You're young, but I don't suppose you're too young not to have known whom she was."
"I was not aware that you had siblings, sir."
"Well, she's actually my cousin through my father's side, and her shitty old man made sure of the fact that her name wasn't associated with his," the singer explained shortly. "He nearly disowned me using his authority as the head of the family, too, when I made my début at sixteen years old in Taiwan. Fortunately, he couldn't do anything because my father was his very much successful younger brother who was on my side. Wang Chun-Yan—have you heard of her? Well, I suppose she's more or less known as Li Chun-Yan, too."
"Ah, China's pop princess," the Japanese manager recalled shortly. "She married the pianist and composer, Li Xiao-Fan, and the two of them had a son. Unfortunately, the couple was reported to have died in a car accident. The whereabouts of their son is currently unknown."
"Her father hardly shed a tear over her death," the singer recalled, "but he probably cared. With the loss of his only daughter and child, he couldn't afford to estrange the rest of his family as well. He'd be a sad, lonely old man if he did. I wonder where he is—my cute little nephew, Li Xiao Chun."
"Wang-san, we've arrived at the music hall," Sakura announced.
"Say, Sakura, after this, we're supposed to go to New York, right?"
"Yes, Wang-san, your final album before your surgery is being produced there by an Arthur Kirkland," his manager reminded him shortly.
Arthur Kirkland—the name didn't escape him. He was an Englishman and a musician—one who dabbled in punk music and activist movements—who had retired into a more quiet life for the sake of his family. It was a shock to the entire music world when he had announced his marriage with the French soprano Marianne Bonnefoy, and their relationship was considered the greatest mismatch ever—second only to his relationship with Chinese pop star, Wang Chun-Yan. Tai-Yang has only met him once, and it was the only time Chun-Yan had brought him home to meet her family. Ever since then, Wang Zhuo had chased him away from his daughter, or, rather, his daughter had left the Briton before any harm could befall either of them.
He was the man she trusted the most who was second to only her husband. When Tai-Yang had tried to adopt Xiao Chun after their accident, it came as no surprise that his custody fell to his godfather rather than the uncle he's only seen once or twice in his entire life.
"Do you believe in fate, Sakura?"
"Not really, Wang-san," replied the young woman as she helped him out of the car. "I've managed to get where I am because of my own abilities; fate has very little to do with it."
"You are awfully strong," Tai-Yang mused as he stepped out of the car. "Opening the car door should be the gentleman's job."
"Not when the 'gentleman' collapsed after his last concert," she protested.
He chuckled under his breath and walked silently beside his manager. The only comment he made was simply, "Well, I believe fate has brought us all together." There was much he had to discuss with Arthur Kirkland, after all, especially regarding a certain "Leon."
"Would you stop taking pictures already? It's so embarrassing!" Emil protested as he tried snatching Lukas' phone from his hands.
"Not a chance! This is your first date, little brother!"
Leon watched amusedly as Lukas easily held the phone out of the range of Emil's arm span using the few centimetres he had over his younger brother as an advantage. The Norwegian shared a little smirk together with his brother's Hongkongese "not boyfriend" before tossing the phone over to Mathias, who had just stepped out of his master bedroom. The Dane quickly caught onto the game of monkey in the middle and, after giving Lukas a look that said he wasn't going to buy his oldest nephew a new phone if anything happened to this one (considering that he had just bought Emil one), tossed the iPhone over to Leon. Emil had pivoted on his heels to glare at his supposed friend, and just as he was about to march over to the brunet to demand him to delete the pictures, Leon tossed the phone back to Mathias, who caught it easily.
Knowing that this charade would continue forever if he didn't give up, Emil groaned, nearly ripping his hair out of his head, before he sulked towards Leon and grabbed his hand, dragging the Hongkonger out of the apartment.
"I can't believe you'd humour my brother and Mathias!" Emil griped as the two of them locked themselves within the lift, heading down towards the ground floor. The Icelander crossed his arms across his chest, dressed in a brown parka with a hood lined with white fur. Underneath, he wore a beige pullover sweater over an ivory white button shirt and a pair of light grey jeans with his usual pair of white lace-up boots. A pair of earmuffs lined with white fur was meant to keep his ears from freezing in the New York winter climate. Although it still wasn't as cold as Iceland in his opinion, it was cold enough to warrant Lukas and Mathias' worry.
On the other hand, Leon seemed to have trouble keeping up his usual coolness in this cold weather. There was a bit of redness staining his fairly tanned cheeks, and his hands were firmly tucked into the pockets of his heathered dark grey double-breasted peacoat. He wore a pair of tartan plaid jeans with black leather combat boots, and he also seemed to bury half of his face into the black knit scarf around his neck. "Why not?" Leon retorted calmly. He glanced over at his "date" and remarked, "Your brother's right, you know? You do look cute. Winter clothes suit you the best."
Emil huffed indignantly and muttered, "I don't understand how you managed to win him over."
The two of them had only met once before then. Once, Emil had dropped by Leon's workplace to buy coffee for Mathias and Lukas, and, at Leon's insistence, he had gotten another coffee for himself as well at a discounted rate. The Hongkonger had left his workplace after making Emil's order since he was done for the day and walked home the blond with a milk tea of his own. ("Free drinks are a privilege for working there," Leon had tried to explain to Emil.)
It was then that he was invited into Mathias' apartment instead by Lukas, who had opened the door in place of Emil unlocking it. Lukas had decided to get some fresh air, having been in the same room with Mathias for too long but, upon noticing that his brother had a guest, acted against his previous decision to weasel his way into Emil's non-existent, as the younger brother had insisted, relationship with Leon. Lukas was known for being overprotective and babying his brother in the place of his parents, so Emil was certain that his Norwegian sibling would ruin things between him and Leon considering that their friendship was a questionable little thing as well.
Unfortunately, somehow Leon and Lukas had combined forces to tease and humiliate the Icelandic blond haired, amethyst eyed boy. Lukas, who probably didn't even have a best friend, had managed to click so easily with Leon over their one similarity.
"I called him 'daaih lóu,'" Leon explained. When he saw that Emil was confused, he clarified, "It means 'elder brother' in Cantonese."
Emil's eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets. "You didn't," the blond murmured. Lukas has been trying to get Emil to call him "older brother" ever since the latter's been, as the Norwegian had put it, "trying to grow up."
"Well, you could also translate it to 'respectful or honourable older brother,'" Leon mentioned shortly, "since it's not as informal or casual as 'gòhgō' or anything."
Rolling his eyes, the platinum blond commented, "You're unbelievable." He didn't even want to remember how Lukas had, in turn, called Leon his brother-in-law. Emil was only sixteen, but Lukas was already marrying him off to some kid he's only just met—one who simply addressed him as an older brother!
"I think in most Asian countries, like, we call everyone our brother or sister. If they're older than us, then they're an aunt or an uncle. If they're way older than us, then, like, we call them grandmother or grandfather," Leon reasoned. He shrugged and remarked, "I don't see what the big deal is."
"How many years have you lived in America?" Emil muttered under his breath as the two of them strolled out of the lift and out of the apartment complex. He supposed that it didn't matter if Leon's stuck around Chinatown for too long and interacted with Cantonese-speaking natives; he's stuck around long enough to know that westerners simply didn't call everyone a brother or sister. He must have picked up on the fact that Lukas wanted Emil to call him... "You knew, didn't you?"
"Like, it's kind of hard not to know," Leon retorted teasingly. "Lately, when we're on the phone and you want him to do a solid, like, he'll always tell you to call him 'big brother' in Norwegian or Icelandic or something. I mean, seriously, it's not that hard to tell if you listen carefully." The Hongkonger figured it'd be a good way to get on the overprotective older brother's good side; the best part was that, unlike Emil, he had no qualms with calling anyone "big brother." He'll even call Alfred and Matthew "a gō" or "gòhgō"when he's in a good mood, and Alfred would explain it to his friends as Leon calling him "big bro." Noticing that Emil shot him a look of disbelief, Leon shrugged and commented, "I don't really see the problem."
"Isn't it embarrassing?"
"Ice, did you not get that I call strangers as 'older brother' or 'younger brother' as well?"
"Culture shock, I guess." Emil shrugged casually and then asked, "So where are we going?"
"I told you that I'd take you to try hot pot before, didn't I?" Leon retorted. "Lien and Mei picked out a good restaurant, so we're going to head there to celebrate the end of your first semester here in America."
"You remembered?"
"I keep my promises."
A mixture of emotions overwhelmed Emil from being touched to embarrassed to a little irritation (because he thought that, since Leon had called it a "date," it would be the two of them) to shame and remorse over his previous thoughts. His friends—even if through extension of Leon—had thought of him and were trying to get him comfortable with New York... even if it was just Chinatown so far. At this point, Emil was certain that he was accepted as one of the Asians despite his more than obvious heritage, but, of course, he really didn't mind. He enjoyed getting to know them a little bit more; the same goes with their culture since he didn't really have that kind of experience in Iceland.
"They'll have their little party, and then we'll, like, sneak away from them, okay?" Leon teased, giving Emil a quick wink that the Icelander would have missed if he wasn't looking.
The blond nodded shyly in response, still a little hesitant to admit that, yes, this probably was a date—just like the times Leon had taken him out to eat with just the two of them and the time that he had been escorted to the winter formal by the brunet.
Upon arriving in Chinatown, Leon pulled up the address Mei had sent him on his phone and googled it. The two boys walked silently, glancing occasionally at the map, and navigated quietly to their destination. By the time they had arrived, Mei, Lien, and Cheng were already seated at a table, and following them shortly after was Kasem. The newly arrived joined their friends at the remaining three seats. It was a bit cluttered, but that was to be expected considering that they were one of the biggest parties there. There were mostly groups of threes or fours, several tables of five and six, and even one with nine persons. As suspected, most people were Asian in heritage, and Emil was one of the handful of people who were of a different ethnicity.
"It's around thirty dollars for two hours here—unlimited food and drinks*," Mei informed shortly. "I ordered green tea for all of us. Is that okay?"
Emil gave a nod as Kasem replied affirmatively. Leon looked more preoccupied with sending a quick text message to someone indiscreetly as he asked, "Did you choose the broth yet?"
"We're doing the combo pot. There's a mild beef one and a medium-spicy kimchi one," Lien answered. She gave Emil a courteous smile—mostly pleasant and polite—as she mentioned, "Congratulations on completing your first semester in America."
"Thank you," Emil replied just as politely with probably a similar, if not the same, smile on his lips.
"That's right!" Mei beamed at him. "How was it? Was it tough?"
"It wasn't that bad," Emil admitted. "Learning United States history was a different experience, of course. I only had a bit of trouble in the English class as well, so Leon's always had to help me."
"It helps that Arthur's an Englishman," Leon teased as he shoved his phone into his back-pocket. "He's had to help all of us at one point."
The Icelander's eyes widened momentarily in surprise as he glanced around the table. "Really? You sound fluent though," Emil blurted out in astonishment. Not to mention, there wasn't really much of an accent when either of them spoke; it was more practised and subtle than Emil's own English.
"Well, we are international students," Kasem reminded amiably. "We might have been around longer than you, but that doesn't really vouch for our English skills when we first came here. I think Lien and I struggled the most since Mei and Cheng already attended an international school in Taiwan and Macau."
"My English was only classroom understanding though," Mei admitted sheepishly. "Cheng and I were dependent on each other and some of the Chinese kids until we met Leon in middle school. We lost some of superficial friends ever since. Emil already sounds really used to English though."
"At least you had some knowledge of English when you came here," Lien pointed out amicably. "Where I lived, you hardly ever used English at all. I wish I had that advantage."
Emil flushed, caught unawares that he really did have it a bit better than his friends, and asked, "You don't mind my accent?"
Everyone cracked a smile at him, warm and accepting, except for Leon, who rolled his eyes. "You're not that bright sometimes, are you, Ice?" Leon retorted in his usual deadpan. He reached out and flicked Emil in the forehead in one fluid motion before the latter could even blink. Emil recoiled with a hiss, and Leon snapped, "They're your friends. Like, seriously, they don't care about your accent; if anything, it's really cute."
Everyone but Emil noticed the third person use and smiled weakly. He wondered where exactly that placed the two of them then since he did realise—albeit belatedly—that Leon and he were closer than any of the others. Leon never kissed or hugged or held hands with any other of his friends; he didn't cuddle with them, didn't nuzzle them, didn't snuggle up to them, or anything. His affections seemed to be reserved only for Emil, and in a way that made him feel a bit special.
He could feel his hopes soaring, but there was a limit they couldn't pass. It was a boundary line that they always approached and never breached. Crossing the line would mean to end their friendship and start something new, but the two of them have been much too comfortable to cross into the unknown. However, recently, Emil's found himself wondering...
Unfortunately, he seemed to wonder for too long.
"Look, Leon, you've hurt his feelings!" Mei admonished.
That snapped Emil back to reality. He shot a smile at Mei and assured her that nothing was wrong. Leon was right, after all, and he apologised for the alarm. "I was just thinking," confessed the blond.
"You don't have to apologise!" Mei protested. "You did nothing wrong!"
"She's right, you know," Leon remarked. "Everyone knows that you tend to get lost in your thoughts."
"I don't want to hear that from you," Emil retorted.
The blond watched curiously as a server approached, saying something in Chinese, and began to set up their pot. Unlike the hot soup restaurant where Leon had brought him, the pot they had placed on the gas stove was an actual stewing pot with its contents separated by a metal divider. He had managed to catch the waiter pointing to the different soups, saying "beef" on one side and "kimchi" on the other. He set the stove to the highest setting before leaving and coming back with plates of meats, seafood, vegetables, and noodles.
Cheng and Leon immediately took one plate each and began dividing the ingredients aside from the noodles into the soups by their chopsticks instead of the provided tongs. "It's faster," Leon had explained upon noticing Emil's baffled expression. Not only that, but there was also the fact that they had plenty of chopsticks to use at their disposal, considering that there was an entire container of them on the other side of the table. Mei had probably passed them around the table before the rest of the group had arrived.
Confirming Emil's earlier suppositions, Leon began to point out the different soups to Emil, and the Icelander resolved to stay away from the spicier soups with or without confirmation from the others that it wasn't as spicy as they had thought. (A part of Emil told him not to believe his friends though in consideration that they had probably gotten used to spices.)
"This is salmon, right?" Leon asked as he dropped a piece of fish into the kimchi soup.
"Yeah," confirmed Mei.
Leon began to list the different ingredients one by one to Emil as he dropped them into the soup. There was salmon, pieces of squid and octopus, fish balls and meatballs which, as explained to Emil, were pounded fish and beef respectively, artificial crab, shrimp, and thinly sliced beef. The vegetables mostly consisted of lettuce and cabbage as well as enoki mushrooms. The noodles were passed around the table, one was a selection of white noodles and the other yellow in colour. Most of their friends were scooping the white noodles, with the exception of Mei and Kasem.
"It's rice vermicelli and regular vermicelli," Leon had explained to Emil when he had received the plate. "Like, the second one tastes like ramen if you eat it with the soup, but the rice one is most commonly eaten with soup."
Emil served himself a bit of the rice noodles in his small bowl that easily fit in the palm of his left hand after curiously sampling a strand of each vermicelli. Like the others, he waited until later to pour in the soup. Steam lifted from the pot and wafted over towards the side facing the entrance due to the constantly opening and closing door, carrying with it the aroma of their soup. While the six of them began to wait for their ingredients to cook, Mei was quick to chirp, "Merry Christmas, everyone!"
Cheng turned his attention to Emil and stated, "I hope we're not taking away too much of your time to spend with your family. Western cultures do celebrate Christmas differently."
"More devotedly, you mean," Leon pointed out with a wry twist of his lips—what could be passable between a smirk and a grin.
"It's fine as long as I'm back by six," Emil informed shortly with a curious glance around the table. "My uncle says that's when we're having our 'family dinner,' but it's really just three of us—him, my brother, and me. I think tomorrow his cousin's family is visiting from Jamestown. Probably."
"That's still more family oriented than what we do," Kasem responded amicably.
"How do you guys celebrate then?" the blond inquired.
"Christmas is a public holiday in Macau and Hong Kong," Cheng explained, "but not on mainland China. It's mostly the few Christians who celebrate it, but other people join in because of the colourful festivities."
Leon nodded in agreement. "Like, honestly, the one thing I remember about Christmas in Hong Kong before I was adopted," or maybe the only thing I do remember, the brunet thought wryly, "was 'Winterfest.' It's basically an annual party that involves all the shops, theme parks, and attractions in Hong Kong. The areas around Victoria Harbour were—or, like, 'are,' I guess—usually decked out with lights, too—probably even the entire city. There were fireworks, too."
Mei giggled and teased, "Of course you'd remember the fireworks."
"How about Taiwan?" Cheng asked before Leon and Mei could bicker like siblings.
"It's not an official holiday," Mei chirped, "but that doesn't really stop people from celebrating. It's more popular than in mainland China. There's Christmas merchandise out in the shops, and shop employees sometimes wear Santa hats for the season, too. We also have Christmas cakes." Turning to Emil, she explained, "It's actually a sponge cake typically decorated with strawberries and whipped cream! Originally, it was a Japanese thing though." She turned to Emil and grinned widely, almost deviously, and asked, "Did you know that Christmas Eve is a couples' holiday in Japan? It's more of a romantic thing than a family celebration—kind of like Valentine's Day."
Emil blinked curiously. "Really?"
"Yeah, really!" Mei chimed. "Couples exchange presents, eat romantic meals together, and go look at lights! It's not a national holiday there either though, so high school students like us sometimes have to wait until after school."
"It's the same with Vietnam, actually," Lien mused. "Christmas Eve is celebrated more than Christmas day, but people usually go out in the streets and enjoy the decorations. I think some of the Christians or Catholics go to Midnight Mass." She nudged Kasem as though to ask, "What about you?"
"It's not a national holiday in Thailand either," Kasem explained, "and only a minority of people are Christian. Christmas decorations are usually seen in the city or tourist areas like Bangkok though."
"We were a little reluctant to pull you away on Christmas Eve," Cheng confessed, wearing his usual smile, "but this was probably the only day Leon and Mei got off from work."
Emil glanced over at Leon, who spared him a subtle smile full of sheepishness succinctly. The brunet shrugged casually as though to act dismissively and remarked, "Sifu's a miser, but he's not that heartless to keep us from celebrating with our friends." Before anyone could touch on that subject, Leon pointed to the boiling pot with his chopsticks and said, "Cheng, could you turn the stove to a simmer? It should be ready."
He grabbed the ladle and experimentally scooped a spoonful of soup and seafood, pouring it into his bowl. He passed it to Emil, who did the same and ended up getting more vegetables than his friend, and while the ladle was going around the table, Cheng called out to the server in Mandarin to bring them another set of ingredients. Emil used the Chinese soup spoon to pick up some of the broth to test it on his palate.
"How is it?" Leon asked.
"It's good," Emil confessed almost sheepishly. "Like you said, I should trust you when it comes to meals."
"Try the fish next," Leon suggested. "It's not that bad; neither is the beef."
Mei watched their interactions with a smile. Leaning towards Lien, she couldn't help but whisper, "Isn't that nice? They really suit each other." Naturally, nobody else could hear their exchange. However, Leon did shoot her a weary glance when she stared at him knowingly.
While they were waiting for their next round of ingredients to cook, Kasem resumed their earlier conversation about Christmas. "So how do you celebrate Christmas in Iceland, Emil?" inquired the bespectacled boy as he finished the rest of his noodles. Lien handed him the plate after he nudged her lightly. He helped himself to a bit of the vermicelli before giving his full attention to Emil.
The blond noticed that everyone else seemed to follow his example as well, and he realised that, being from a separate culture where Christmas is just another festival rather than an actual holiday, they were genuinely curious. "Well," Emil began awkwardly, "Christmas is kind of a part of a holiday called Jól, which means 'Yule' in Icelandic." He hurriedly tacked on the explanation when he had subconsciously reverted back to his first language. "Yesterday was Þorláksmessa, Saint Thorlakur's Day, which is the day Iceland's patron saint died. We eat skata and decorate the Christmas tree.
"Today is Aðfangadagur, and celebrations start at six in the evening. Children usually open their Christmas presents after dinner. Jóladagur is Christmas day, and we usually have meals with the extended family and eat Hangikjöt—roasted lamb, I think? The day after is Annar Jóladagur, which I think translates into 'another Christmas day.'"
"Is it like Boxing Day?" Leon asked curiously.
"Boxing day?" Mei interrupted curiously. She doubted the martial art had anything to do with it though.
"It's the day after Christmas," Leon answered shortly.
"You sure know a lot," Mei mused.
"I'm from Hong Kong. It was a British colony until the late nineties, and I live with a Briton," Leon reasoned. "Arthur, like, celebrated Boxing Day, too, when he took us to England once, but it's like a bank holiday in the UK. Most people go shopping or watch football and rugby matches."
"It's a little different in Iceland," Emil commented with a bit of interest. "On Annar Jóladagur, you can go visit friends and family. It's basically Christmas extended—as suggested by the name, probably." He shrugged again and continued with his little explanation. "There's also Gamlárskvöld and Nýársdagur, which are New Year's Eve and New Year's. Þrettándinn is Twelfth Night, which occurs on the sixth of January, and the last day of Jól, which can be celebrated by bonfires and dancing."
"I thought you didn't dance," Leon teased.
"And I don't," Emil mumbled, elbowing his friend in the ribs. Cheng grabbed the ladle this time and began to pass it around the table.
"It does sound fun though," Kasem admitted.
"And like a lot of food," Mei added. "That's like three days of feasts, isn't it? The twenty-third, twenty-fourth, and twenty-fifth?"
"It's a good thing we called you out early then," Cheng mentioned, "so that you could go back and celebrate with your family tonight."
The rest of the morning was spent finishing their hot pot until all six party members were stuffed. Even then, Mei had managed to scoop herself a helping of free ice cream. After witnessing the Taiwanese girl sharing her green tea flavoured ice cream with Lien, Kasem caved and ended up getting a bit of Thai tea ice cream as well. Unable to deal with watching his friends eat in front of him, Leon ended up doing the same thing as Mei. He wedged a serving of green tea ice cream between himself and Emil and handed the blond a silver spoon with the silent command of, "Shut up and eat. It's 'free.'" In other words, the Hongkonger meant, "We already paid thirty dollars for an all-you-can-eat hot pot and drinks, so we might as well eat some of the complementary ice cream." Emil couldn't disagree and ended up silently going along with the matter.
While everyone was eating their ice cream, Cheng gathered five dollars from everyone and headed towards the front counter to pay for their meal. Everyone else began to take out a couple of bills for the tip as well, around another five dollars each. Cheng chipped in his share once he returned back to the table. "Should we walk it off?" Mei suggested. "We could go shopping for some last minute presents?"
The six of them agreed and, after some debate, decided to head to Thirty-Fourth Street. Mei and Leon led the way, familiar with the area more than anyone else, with Lien, Cheng, and Kasem behind them. Emil was unceremoniously dragged along by Leon towards the station. After boarding the subway for around four stops, Mei and Leon assumed the lead once again—with Leon pulling Emil along. However, just as Herald Square began to come in sight, Leon slowed his pace so that the others were pulling away. Then, without further ado, they turned away from the others.
"What are you doing?" Emil demanded of his supposed friend.
Leon grinned back at his friend. "I told you that we would, like, sneak away, didn't I?" he retorted. "Come on! I mean, Mei was just going to drag you guys on her shopping adventures anyway!"
Feeling the phone in his back pocket vibrate, Emil pulled out his phone and skimmed through the text. "It's from Cheng," he announced.
"What does it say?"
Where are you two?
"Nothing important," Emil replied shortly.
He followed Leon into the H&M on Thirty-Fourth Street and Seventh Avenue and into the men's department. Glancing around, Emil accidentally caught sight of some numbers and winced at the price tags. The dancer didn't seem to have a problem with anything though and easily browsed through the clothes. He brought up a collared blue shirt in front of Emil and said, "This suits you. If it was, like, a little more purple in hue, then it'd really bring our your eyes since you're already so pale."
"I don't know if that was a compliment," Emil retorted as he eyed the shirt. He stole a glimpse of the price tag and saw that it was slightly more bearable to study the fabric since it was only fifteen dollars in comparison to the forty dollar shirts he's noticed folded nicely on one of the shelves.
Leaving the shirt in Emil's hands, Leon marched over to another rack. "You like sweaters, right? How about, like, a new cardigan?" The Hongkonger held out a black long cardigan. "I think this one would accentuate your figure more."
"What figure?"
"You're skinny as fuck."
"Again, I don't know if you're complimenting me," Emil responded dryly. He glanced at the price tag and remarked, "That's practically thirty-five dollars of fabric, Leon! None of my cardigans are that expensive!"
"You're right. That's why you need a more expensive one; you can't trust the quality of a twelve dollar cardigan, Ice," Leon muttered before pulling out another cardigan from the rack. Although still black in colour, it was shorter in length but cut differently. "How about this one? It's, like, knit with bouclé yarn or something and has a hood and shawl collar. It's practical, right?"
"How do you know this stuff?" Emil inquired of his friend exasperatedly. Leon was obviously trying to hide the price tag from him, so Emil reached into the rack and found the same styled cardigan. His eyes budged out of their sockets. "That's a fifty dollar cardigan, Leon. Just... no. There's not even any buttons!" His sweaters were warm, and that cardigan would do nothing for him but keep his arms cosy. That aside, another realisation dawned upon the Icelander. "How come you're looking for things that suit me anyway?"
"Christmas present," Leon answered shortly.
"No Christmas present from a friend should be fifty dollars' worth," Emil seethed. "Moreover, you're buying it in front of me?"
"Well, like, you're already here. It's a lot easier than having to imagine you in my head while picking things out," Leon reasoned. He smiled almost shyly—almost because it was Leon who was hardly ever shy—and added, "Besides, like, I want to buy something for you. It's your first Christmas in America, too. It's like a way of saying that you've made it halfway through your first year here."
"We could... go somewhere else," Emil suggested quietly. "I'm not really comfortable looking at these kinds of clothes. Most everything is over twenty dollars."
Leon nearly laughed—nearly because he would be laughing at Emil and that would be rude—and remarked, "Good luck finding a place like that here."
The two of them high-tailed it out of the shop and instead found themselves in the men's section on the upper level of a two storey Forever 21, where they encountered Mei and Lien. Cheng and Kasem had apparently elected to drop by one of the three Staples stores in the area. Reunited momentarily with his fashionable friend, Leon and Mei had been exchanging advice and suggestions with Lien and Emil lingering in the background, idly browsing through whatever clothes rack they encountered. Leon left with a single plastic bag. When Emil had asked him what he had bought, Leon replied that he had been picking a couple of things off the sales rack. It seemed that he wasn't really worried because his sifu was quite generous with his red envelopes on New Year's.
Disappearing behind Mei's back, the two of them slipped into a music shop** on Seventh Avenue to check out the equipment there. Upon entering, Emil made a beeline for the keyboards and began to fiddle with the different brands. Unlike the others who were playing mainstream pop music, Emil got quite a few stares for playing Chopin before mixing it up with the built-in features available on the keyboard that was set up.
Leon was browsing through the guitar guides before his eyes fell upon a familiar face printed on the cover page of one of the books. It was titled "DIY Guitar Lessons," and picking up the book, he stared a good while at the three young men printed on the front. It wasn't until he noticed the eyebrows on the bassist did he realise who it was, and promptly, he dropped the book. Then everything became clear.
Mathias had a mohawk, Gilbert had a collection of facial piercings, including a tongue piercing, and Arthur—his godfather and guardian—had hair that was greener than the Grinch that stole Christmas.
I didn't see that, Leon told himself before he backed away from the shelf, returning to Emil's side. Emil—dear, sweet, ignorant Emil—blinked and asked him, "Did you find something?"
"Nothing at all."
A few hours later, after exploring whatever caught their interest, Leon escorted Emil back to Mathias' apartment. Just as the blond was fiddling with the keys, the Hongkonger asked, "Will you be done with your family dinner by eight?"
"I don't think it'll take two hours for three people to eat—especially when two of the three are likely not to talk as much as the third," Emil replied as he inserted his key into the lock. "Why?" He twisted the key, turned the knob, and removed his key from the lock. He glanced behind him and saw that Leon was sending another text on his phone.
"I'll be back for you around, like, half eight, cool?" Leon offered half a smile to Emil and explained, "We'll finish this date properly since it's Christmas Eve, after all."
Emil was left wondering what exactly his friend had meant. It was only later, when he, his brother, and Mathias had gathered at the dinner table, did he realise what Leon was implying. Lukas had asked him how his day had gone, and Mathias was extremely curious why Emil had returned home smelling as though he's been near a gas stove. (The Icelander supposed the steam rising from the hot pot had rubbed onto his clothes and hair and promptly showered the moment he had returned.) After Lukas was wondering how his little brother had managed to assimilate into a group of Asian kids, Emil was reminded of his discussion of Christmas with his friends.
Did you know that Christmas Eve is a couples' holiday in Japan?
Mei's inquiry rung soundly and clearly in the deep recesses of his mind, and no matter what happened at the dinner table—Mathias poking fun at Lukas, Lukas snapping sardonically at Mathias, Mathias getting his tie pulled, Lukas getting his buttons pressed—Emil couldn't get her voice out of his head.
A part of him thought that it made sense. It was Christmas Eve, and he had spent the day with Leon. Now Leon was planning to spend the night with him as well after an evening with his family. Then a part of him thought that he was being too hopeful because Leon and he were always approaching the line—a line that could ruin or change their dynamic entirely—but never crossed it. Why would this time be any different? Because it was Christmas?
With Leon, he wasn't friends. He wasn't anything beyond a friend either. They had a relationship that was purely platonic with mutual feelings and consent. Emil was satisfied with it... so why did he feel so miserable and empty with it now?
After pulling the short straw, Emil was forced to wash dishes while Lukas and Mathias put away the leftovers into the fridge. The Danish baker then informed the half-brothers that Berwald would be visiting tomorrow for Christmas with his spouse, their adopted child, and their dog. In return, Emil informed Mathias that he'd be hanging out with Leon later.
"You're pretty close with him now, huh?" Mathias mused. "Back in September, you'd deny even knowing the kid."
"He's in the same class," Emil retorted. "I can't avoid him if I'm forced to see him every day."
The grin on Mathias' lips said that wasn't quite what he had meant and that his nephew knew so as well. Still, he didn't push on the subject, knowing that Emil had a bit of a temper unnecessary for the festive spirit. Lukas, on the other hand, found nothing wrong with asking his younger brother, "So he's taking you out for another date after letting eat dinner with the family? Isn't he considerate? Remember to use protection, little brother."
Emil's cheeks were stained a deep red as he tensed. Refusing to face his brother, he scrubbed the dishes even harder. It didn't help that Lukas was sitting at the dining table and facing his back, watching him with his nonchalant gaze digging into his flesh. "We—We're not like that!" Emil protested heatedly. A part of him, without thinking, nearly spat out, "We haven't even properly kissed!" However, the platinum blond caught his tongue on time and refrained, choosing to purse his lips and glare at the plain dinnerware in his hands instead.
After he finished washing the dishes, Mathias pulled the brothers towards the Christmas tree and threw a couple of presents at them, demanding them to rip them open. Emil curiously unwrapped his gift, undoing the tape rather than shredding the paper like Mathias had done to his and Lukas' present to him, and pulled out a plastic box. Once the paper was completely removed, Emil nearly dropped it if it weren't for the fact that it was an expensive gift.
"I've noticed that you were using your ear-buds when you were practising for your piano recital last week during the night," Mathias explained, "or setting the speakers on your keyboard to a lower volume. I'm not sure what quality your ear-buds are, but they're probably the cheap ones you can buy at a convenience store rather than a proper electronics shop since I know you're stingy with money." The Dane smiled warmly at his nephew and said, "Just use these instead. They're not Beats, but I think they'll do. The shopkeeper let me try out different ones, and I liked these the best. The bass is nice, and you can still hear the high and mid as well. If you're not using them with your keyboard, you can use it with your new phone, too."
"Beats are overrated," Emil assured his uncle with a weak smile. Rather than uncharacteristically hugging the older man, he brought the plastic box holding a pair of over-the-ear stereo headphones in a matte white finish to his chest. "Thanks, Mathias."
He glanced over at his brother and saw that the twenty year old was holding a new violin case. Mathias promptly explained that his old one that was made of cloth was getting ripped and the hard case was getting scratched; plus, the locks were acting up weirdly. Lukas gave Mathias a wry smirk and teased, "What? So you can choose a practical gift. I was half-expecting you to get me a dog named 'Emil Junior' to keep me company in the dorms."
"That makes it sound like it's my child," Emil muttered.
"With how your relationship with that boy is progressing, I don't think you'll have to worry about that."
"Ouch, Lukas, that stings," Mathias winced. Emil rolled his eyes in response. He didn't want a child—not now, probably not ever. The Icelander glanced over at Mathias, who had finally wrestled his gift out of the wrapping paper. "A Lego set of the Seattle Space Needle! How did you know I haven't done this one yet?"
Lukas nodded his head towards Mathias' glass display case, where he had Lego models of the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and the Empire State Building. Ever since the architectural series had been released, Mathias couldn't stop buying the sets and putting them together. "I don't know," he replied sarcastically. "We just took a guess."
"Thanks, you two!" Like an excited child, Mathias plopped down on the floor of his living room and began to open up the package. Lukas and Emil shot each other a relieved glance. The only time Mathias was ever quiet was when he was concentrating. It was a good choice. Next year, they'd have to find a new set to humour Mathias.
When the doorbell rang, Lukas shot up from his seat and marched the front door in long strides. Emil tried to quicken his pace so that he wouldn't have to deal with his brother's teasing—especially with Leon around—but lost by half a second. Lukas had already unlocked the door and greeted the Hongkonger, "Good evening, friend of my brother."
"Hello, brother of my friend."
Lukas glanced at Emil, who was silently pleading for him not to do anything outrageous, and, feeling a bit merciful tonight as part of the Christmas spirit, said to Leon, "I want him back by midnight and no later. Don't stay outside for too long and stick to crowds."
Leon nodded his head just as Lukas widened the door crack so that Emil could leave. Gathering his coat, keys, wallet, and phone, the platinum blond shuffled out of the apartment just in time to hear Lukas remind the two of them that they were still minors in America. Before Emil could retort, the door slammed in his face. His good mood depleted slightly as he asked Leon, "So? Where are we going?"
Leon was dressed in the same dark grey peacoat, but his attire had changed. Emil assumed that he probably showered after he had gotten home as well to wash off the smell of the soup and gas. He wore a pair of indigo jeans with combat boots laced up halfway to his knees as well as a white button shirt with a heavy red tie. A black scarf was draped around his neck, and a matching fedora was set atop his head, bringing the lighter tinge of his dark brown hair—slightly auburn underneath the light.
Emil, on the other hand, shrugged on his parka over a tan sweater. The rest of his outfit was rather plain compared to Leon—a pair of light blue jeans and brown workman boots—since he didn't think that they'd be going anywhere... fancy or romantic. That just wasn't Leon's style. The brunet was probably as far from romantic as he could be. He didn't like eating rich, expensive meals and preferred traditional Asian meals rather than delicacies—probably for the taste of nostalgia—and his idea of dinner and a movie was more like Chinese take-away or pizza delivery with horror flicks.
Now with Leon's dressier clothes—though still casual in that weird Asian way of his—Emil wasn't so sure.
The brunet stretched out his hand, offering it to Emil, and without any stroke of hesitation, the blond accepted it and was pulled along—right into Leon's pace. It was comfortable, still, so Emil didn't mind. He rather enjoyed it, honestly.
"Times Square," Leon answered shortly. "You haven't seen the lights yet."
Emil wanted to point out that even without seeing the Christmas lights, New York was bright enough anyway to make up for it. However, Mei's words still haunted him. Christmas Eve was a couples' holiday in Japan, but they weren't in Japan. They were in America, where Christmas is very much a familial holiday, but that didn't mean they couldn't celebrate it the Japanese way. Couples go out into the city, eat meals together, exchange presents, and look at lights.
He could cross two off that list. They had already gone into the city this morning, and now Leon was planning to show him the Christmas lights. Emil wondered briefly—just entertaining the thought—that Leon probably considered them a couple. The two of them were both poor with words, after all, and maybe they had already crossed the line between platonic friendship and romantic relationship.
It sure didn't feel like it though, Emil thought to himself. They were the same as ever.
LED lights were strewn throughout trees and around lamp posts. Several buildings were decorated in the holiday spirit, and—as Emil had expected—Times Square was bright enough even without the Christmas lights. He did find walking hand-in-hand with Leon quite enjoyable though, and a soft smile slipped upon his lips when he found some children squealing in delight at the sights and scenes.
Suddenly, he nearly tripped over his feet. Glancing towards Leon, he nearly asked his supposed what he was doing before noticing that his hand was shoved into the pocket of Leon's peacoat. "It's, like, warmer this way," Leon explained shortly. "Your hands are seriously cold."
They were pressed up to each other, arm against arm, and Emil's smile widened.
Maybe he could consider it—that Leon was thinking about them, too.
On the way to Central Park, the two of them slipped into a little bakery and café. Despite the European design, the fairly new establishment was run by Yao Wang, who had expanded his business beyond Chinatown, and a handful of Asian workers were present handling the few customers they had tonight. Most people were dining in restaurants or enjoying the lights. "You already had dinner, right?" Leon asked Emil.
"Yeah—with Lukas and Mathias."
"What about dessert?"
"None," Emil replied, eyeing his friend curiously.
Leon momentarily unlatched their hands—much to Emil's dismay—and stepped towards the counter to place an order on two milk teas and a strawberry shortcake around the size of a quarter of a typical nine-inch diameter round cake. They were served the cake immediately since all the employees had to do was fetch one from the display case, and Emil and Leon settled at a table with two forks.
Emil crossed another thing off Mei's list. They were sharing a Japanese "Christmas cake" in place of a meal. The blond watched in mild surprise as Leon began eating the strawberries first rather than the sponge cake. Smiling, Emil mused, "I didn't think you were the type to like strawberries."
"What's wrong with strawberries?" Leon returned almost indignantly—almost because he was still speaking in that deadpan of his. His expression contorted slightly and told Emil, "Some of them are sour rather than sweet."
So he prefers sweet things, Emil noted quietly. "Is this supposed to be... a date?"
"Leon?!" the server called for his name. The Hongkonger stood from his seat and motioned that he'd take a minute in order to retrieve their drinks. He returned to the table, handing Emil a milk tea and a straw to poke through the plastic covering, and to his seat across from the blond.
"It's a date," Leon confirmed. "I'm, like, continuing from earlier. Problem?"
Emil frowned and retorted, "I don't like that you're paying for everything. I'll pay you back for my drink."
"It's fine," Leon insisted. "I'm the one who dragged you out here anyway."
"Then I'll pay next time," Emil insisted. Leon's already paid for the majority of their meals together anyway when they were sharing rather than splitting the cheque.
Smiling and laughing silently, Leon conceded, "Okay, then next time."
There would be a next time, Emil thought contently. Before long, they were sipping their teas and fighting for the last piece of their cake. Leon made an abrupt, "Oh," as though he had just remembered something and reached into the pocket of his jacket. "I got you something."
Emil's cheeks flushed. "You're always buying things..." the blond mumbled, but he didn't have the heart to turn Leon away. A part of him reasoned that it meant that Leon had thought about him. The Hongkonger had even admitted to shopping for Emil before, envisioning how different items would look on him, and to an extent, it had flattered the Icelander. He was a bit shocked that it wasn't a huge gift bag or box though, and he figured that, if it was small enough to hide in Leon's pocket, it probably wasn't something expensive.
Unfortunately, he was quickly proven wrong.
Emil didn't know if he wanted to accept the velvet jewellery box in front of him. It wasn't small or bulky enough to be a ring, so it was either a necklace or a bracelet. Knowing that he was appearing rather rude, Emil reluctantly accepted the gift, and hesitantly, he opened the box.
On a twenty inch chain was a simple stainless steel ring engraved with Leon's in beautiful cursive script. He had half a mind to ask Leon what he was thinking, buying such an expensive gift, but the Hongkonger mentioned, "It's nothing that expensive. Besides, the jeweller was someone who owed me a solid anyway, so he gave me, like, a discount or a price cut." He unwrapped the scarf around his neck and reached into his shirt to pull out the same necklace and ring—only with Emil's name.
Gulping, Emil steeled his nerves and asked the brunet, "Leon... what exactly is our relationship?"
"What do you want it to be?" replied the East Asian teen.
"I... don't want it to be this vague... thing we have going on," Emil responded as he clutched the edge of the box. "I don't want to kiss and hold hands and still tell other people that we're friends. It feels like I'm lying to their faces or to myself, and saying that we're just being ourselves feels like an excuse because it feels like we're dancing around the issue here. What do we have? Is it platonic? Or are we just goofing around?" Because I can't take this as a joke any more, Emil seethed, not when I'm starting to feel special, not when you're starting to feel special.
He raised his amethyst eyes and was stunned to witness the hurt crossing Leon's visage just briefly. Leon gave him a weak smile. "That's true. Like, we're not exactly friends, are we?" admitted the brunet with a casual—or appearing casual—shrug. His eyes hardened though, and his voice was cold when he added, "But I'm not just shitting around with you, Emil. That hurts—seriously."
Emil chewed on the inside of his cheek as panic began to struck and as anxiety settled in the pit of his stomach. "I know you aren't," Emil muttered. "You don't play around with feelings like that. It was stupid of me; I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Leon responded just as quietly, his voice losing some of that coldness. "I mean, like, I didn't really give you a reason to think otherwise. I just didn't know what to think either." He slumped in his chair and sighed heavily. "I guess the gig is up."
Eyeing him carefully, Emil inquired, "What do you mean?"
"You're special; at least to me, you are," Leon confessed. "I wasn't joking when I said that I wouldn't mind never getting a girlfriend with you around or vice-versa. I wasn't lying when I said that I've never been attracted to anyone before either—before meaning before I met you. I've said this before, but, like, I'd be lying if I said you weren't attractive because, to me, it's true. You're attractive, and you're cute. You're my type, really, and that's not a joke either. All those times I said you were pretty, I wasn't just saying it to play around either; I meant that, too.
"And when I said that it didn't sound bad to be a couple with you? It really didn't. I didn't mind the sound of it at all; in fact, it sounded appealing. But, like, I'm calculative, and, honestly, I just noticed it because it only happens when it comes to you." Leon nearly raked a hand through his hair but stopped when he realised that he was still wearing his fedora. "First, we held hands. Then we started to cuddle on the couch. We were okay with hugging. Kisses were okay, too. It was slow, and it was all experimental. I needed to gauge your reactions."
There was a moment of silence where Leon needed to gather the rest of his thoughts and where Emil allowed all that Leon had said to seep into his head. "Why?" the blond finally asked him.
"Why?" Leon repeated. He closed his eyes and thought a little more deeply before replying, "'Whatever will happen between us will be as it will be,' remember?" The brunet opened his eyes and sat upright with a soft smile directed only at Emil. "Do we stay as 'friends' or do we end up as a couple? I was... scared, I guess. I mean, how uncool would it be if I finally found someone I liked and found interesting and got rejected?"
"Our friendship was a pretence then," Emil concluded, feeling strangely empty inside.
"No," Leon argued, narrowing his eyes at Emil, "it was never a pretence. It was real. The moments I had with you were real, and this moment I have with you right now is just as real. I never wanted to pretend to be your friend, Emil."
"Then... what will be of us?"
"What do you want?"
Emil frowned. "I asked you first," snapped the blond under his breath so that other people could just turn around and stay out of their damned business, "but if you insist on 'playing it safe,' then fine! I really hate you right now! You stretched it out for too long, idiot! I really liked you, and you just had to pull this vague friendship card!" He caught himself before he went into Icelandic. "Then I think I might love you, but I'm stuck in this hole that we ended up digging together because I'm scared shitless about what you'd think of me!" He swore quietly and raised his eyes—only for his gaze to fall upon a grinning brunet. "What now?"
"I think I might love you, too, Ice," replied the Hongkonger with a shrug. Despite his act to remain casual and nonchalant, he was brimming with confidence. "You want to go out with me?"
"Fuck you, Leon," Emil muttered, "but, fine, yes. Just don't pull this aggravating shit on me again." He fingered the ring in the velvet box and, in spite of all the anger and frustration that had surged through him, smiled.
"Do you want me to help you put it on?" Leon asked.
"I can do it myself," Emil protested, yet he relented when Leon snatched the necklace from its cushion in the velvet box. He undid the clasp before leaning over the table. To help him, Emil leaned forward as well. Leon's hair brushed against his cheek, and his warmth and scent overwhelmed the blond as he nearly embraced Emil within the bakery and café. Once the necklace was clasped behind Emil's neck, the ring falling right between his collarbones, Leon withdrew.
"It looks good on you," Leon complimented. The shit-eating grin on his lips silently said, "It's to be expected since I picked it out for you."
Rolling his eyes, Emil turned away from Leon with a heavy flush on his cheeks, feeling greatly flustered in front of his new lover (and how he revelled in the sound of that!), before muttering, "I didn't even get you anything."
"How about a kiss?" Leon suggested without a single ounce of shame in his voice or expression.
Emil's cheeks darkened, the colour spreading to the rest of his face and the tip of his ears as well as the back of his neck. He quickly glanced around before, upon seeing that nobody was paying them any particular attention, quickly pecking the corner of Leon's lips.
Chuckling silently, the Hongkonger hummed and mused, "I guess, like, I could accept that for now."
Picking themselves together, they exited the bakery and café and headed towards Central Park for a round of ice skating. Emil was more than happy to find that he was better than Leon in another area aside from, obviously, piano, and Leon was more than happy to escort Emil home just as it was approaching eleven. Mathias might have wanted to play the overprotective dad, but Lukas—although he had approved of Leon and joined him in teasing Emil—was far more frightening when it came to his younger brother's well-being and safety.
Stopping in front of the apartment door, Emil shuffled in his pockets for his key. Not quite wanting to turn on his heel and leave just yet, Leon waited patiently until Emil slipped into Mathias' apartment, leaning on the wall opposite. The gifted necklace hung around Emil's neck, tucked safely under his shirt so that his brother wouldn't see it, and the faint hint of a silver chain glimmered underneath the lights of the corridor.
"Emil," Leon called out quietly.
"Hmm?"
Leon pulled on the blond's wrist and brought a hand behind the back of Emil's head, bending it down to cover the few centimetres between them, before locking their lips together. The blond was caught by surprise, and in the few seconds that he had began to realise what Leon was doing, he shifted so that they met at a better angle. His hands slipped from the door and the key and instead grasped at the fabric of Leon's coat.
Emil's lips were slightly chapped and dry from exposure to the cold weather outside, but he tasted faintly of sweet strawberries and tea. Leon rather liked it.
"How bold of you, friend of my brother."
"Lukas!" Emil cried immediately, pulling away from Leon a bit startled. A hot blush settled on his cheeks, and no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to rid himself of it.
Leon bowed his head slightly at the older brother and gave a wry smile. "With all due respect, I believe I've just ranked up, brother of my boyfriend."
"Leon!" Emil shrieked incredulously. He shoved Lukas lightly into the other side of the door frame and hissed a quick goodbye to his—and the thought made him blush a shade of red deeper—boyfriend, but before he could leave, Leon grabbed his hand and pulled him back to place a chaste kiss on his lips.
"Bye, Ice. I'll call you."
"O-Okay..."
Emil stared after Leon's back until he disappeared into the lift just down the corridor. Another realisation dawned upon him. The two of them have never kissed like that before.
A/N:
Sorry for the trivia dump on how Asians celebrate Christmas (or don't, depending on how you look at it). I had to research a little more on how Emil would celebrate Christmas in Iceland though. I'm not sure if it's something that's actually done in Iceland since I've never been, and I don't have much of a reference aside from the internet. On the bright side, Emil and Leon are finally out of platonic limbo!
Also, the thing about addressing strangers as a sister or brother, etc. that Leon talks about is true to an extent. I've done it before when I go to restaurants, markets, bakeries, and other places. My elders and relatives do it as well, and so do my friends of Asian descent.
For instance, if you watch a Korean drama, sometimes strangers are called "ahjussi" and "ahjumma," which could be used to refer to a blood-related uncle and aunt, respectively, or someone in their thirties from what I'm aware. Another example would be, in Japanese animes or mangas, you can hear other people being called "oniisan," "oneesan," "ojisan," "obasan," "ojiisan," and "obaasan," and it could refer to a family member (translated to "big brother," "big sister," "uncle," "aunt," "grandpa," and "grandma" in that order) or someone who appears to be in the appropriate age range.
Aside from Korean and Japanese, it's also common practice in Vietnamese, but there may be equivalents to English "mister," "miss," etc. in Mandarin. I'm not sure about Cantonese, but I think that in families that speak Cantonese you refer to a family member by a title and that it extends to strangers to establish age and status as well (meaning, similar to the earlier examples). Anyway, it's quite a difference than how you would address a stranger in most western languages. My non-Asian friends were quite surprised when I tried to explain this concept to them.
On another note, at the time I was writing this chapter, I really did go online and shop for things Leon would probably buy (for Emil). It was fun... except for the part where I had to deal with the reality of what remaining funds I have. The reason why I named both H&M and Forever 21 is because they are, in a sense, considered overseas/foreign gyaru brands and have branches in Shibuya, Tokyo, as well, which is practically the mecca of all things gyaru. That is also is why I mentioned that Leon and Emil encountered Mei and Lien in F21. I consider Mei and Leon as gyaru and gyaruo respectively.
In canon, Taiwan shows interest in Japanese pop culture, including fashion. In this story, I thought that she would have something kind of like the himekaji style—silk camis, mini skirts, lace and frills, for example—which is a toned down himegyaru, the princess type that's not quite lolita but wears expensive brands like Liz Lisa, based off official art works.
Since Hong Kong also expresses some interest in fashion, I thought the style that might suit him well would be kind of an inclination towards the rocker or "Amekaji" ("American Casual") sub-style of gyaru-kei since he already speaks in a gyaruo "dialect" in the original Japanese audio. Honestly, speaking as a gyaru, I think he really is a gyaruo because of his attitude, interests, and a couple of official artworks and strips from Himaruya.
Footnotes:
* This hot pot restaurant is modelled after an actual one in Chinatown, but there's probably plenty of them to choose from.
** I made up a music shop on Seventh Avenue; I'm not really sure if there is one there because I haven't found one that actually sells instruments and not just CDs and vinyl records.