Halle doesn't realise they've been reloading their website until Ella pinches them.
"Ow!" They jump and nearly knock their pencil case off the desk. "The hell was that for?"
She gestures at the screen. "That's the twelfth time you've refreshed the page in ten minutes. You okay there?"
"I'm just making sure I didn't miss any comments on my newest review." Halle clicks the "refresh" button at the corner of their screen again. "There's no way I only got three since it was posted on Tuesday."
The review loads in again, displaying the title Big Dreams and Small Plates at Rêverie in eggplant-purple letters and the tiny icon that informs them it's gotten a thousand reads next to it. That's another abnormality — by this time, most of their reviews should've racked up at least ten thousand. Ella peers at the photo that appears right under the title. "Oh, it's that review of the fancy fusion restaurant. I think their most expensive set meal could pay the rent for three months."
Another refresh. The view count stays stubbornly at one thousand, and the comments at three. "I don't get how this one flopped," they sigh. "Did my writing get worse without me noticing?"
"Give it here." She yanks the laptop towards her and begins scrolling through it. She reaches the end of the review before placing it back down on the desk and saying, "it doesn't look much different from the other stuff you've posted. At least, I can't notice any difference."
"Then there's no reason it'd do so much worse than all the other reviews." They refresh it again, as though nine thousand more people would've read the thing since they last refreshed ten seconds ago. "Last I remembered, nobody called me out and got the entire Internet to boycott my posts."
"Why would someone call out a restaurant reviewer?"
They shrug. "It could happen."
The bell rings in the distance. Ella wheels away from their desk and towards her own, where she grabs her stationery before making her way out of the classroom. Right before she turns the corner, she notices her girlfriend, Mariam, waiting by the door, and takes her hand to kiss it before leaving for her class.
Mariam walks into the room smiling, cheeks pink against the dark-green of her tudung. Halle jumps as she tosses her books onto the desk in front of them with a resounding BANG. "I've got my Little Women presentation this lesson," she announces, pulling a stack of cue-cards from her pocket. "Sit quietly and act interested, I need to run through my points one more time."
While their friend starts up her presentation, they let the review take a backseat. Comments, reads, all that… they should go back to normal by the end of the week. At least, they better.
…
Like they did the first two times, Halle goes to Wang's alone after school. Whether or not they manage to cover the entire menu by the end of this visit, the review, they decide, is going to be completely finished with and published. And after that, the restaurant will be stowed safely in the back of their mind among tens of the other good — but not remarkable — restaurants they've been to in the past.
Ling gives them a friendly wave from the register while they head for their usual table. Madeline is sitting near the kitchen, typing away at her laptop while she taps one foot against the floor. Aside from her tapping and the rapid footsteps of Leon, tending to a table on the other side of Wang's, it's quiet as usual.
While waiting for him to show up and take their order, Halle carefully pulls their notebook and a pen out of their backpack, then flips over to where they left off. Sandwiched between what's already there of their comments and the drafts from Rêverie are two and a half pages — two and a half pages to wrap up this visit that's already taken too long.
"Hey there." They close the notebook just in time as Leon shows up. "Anything new you want to try today?"
"Well…" I really should've thought this through before showing up. "It's too late to order for lunch and too early to order for dinner, so I'm not really sure what I want."
He smiles faintly. "Yeah, I expected that." One hand shoots out to grab the menu on the table and flip it open. "We don't have a specific menu for tea times at the moment, but something that's really suitable for this time of day is a sticky rice roll that we serve with a pork floss and you tiao filling."
"What's — "
"You tiao?" He finishes for him. "It's a sort of fried dough. One of the best ways to eat it is as-is, but it's great with sticky rice, too."
"I see. I'll have that, then."
The order is quickly scrawled down on the familiar yellow notepad. Twirling his pen around, he adds, "the rice roll might go well with our homemade soy milk. Do you want to give it a try?"
Well, that's another thing I've never tried before. They nod, and Leon writes that down, too. But instead of rushing straight to the kitchen like he normally does after taking an order, he leans down slightly and asks, "by the way, are you feeling okay?"
Halle jolts. "Am I… okay?"
"Yeah. You seem kinda off today, though I guess I'm not the best person to say that." He snorts. "Y'know, since I've only seen you like three times before."
Surely they can't write about the waiter who also tries to be a therapist in their review. Halle tries to smile, though for some reason it's difficult. "Of course I'm fine," they manage.
He straightens up silently, amicable smile still intact, to go to the kitchen, and Halle keeps their notebook at the ready. His question keeps ringing in their head, even though it really shouldn't matter. Leon's just a waiter, and they're just a customer. There's no reason for those boundaries to be crossed.
Their hand goes to their phone and they open up their website, clicking onto the "analytics" page of the most recent review. It's gained about ten more views since they last checked, and, as they expected, has no new comments to display. Halle grits their teeth. The review on The Serenade did so well, jumping to twenty thousand reads in the first week, with new people steadily adding comments each day. If only Rêverie got that kind of attention, they lament. They've always known that the views on their reviews would constantly fluctuate, but for this one's engagement to nosedive so drastically, so suddenly? It almost feels like someone's playing a sick joke on them.
"Here you go. Oop, sorry about that. Hello? Hello? Earth to Halle?"
They jolt again. Leon's placed their food down in front of them, and a tiny bit of the soy milk appears to have spilt onto the table. The waiter himself stares with bright eyes. "Here you go," he says again.
"Oh. Thank you."
"Enjoy your food."
The rice roll, a small, off-white cylinder, has already been cut into four thick slices. Halle picks the first one up and observes the three concentric rings that make up the roll — first the ring of rice, then the thin brown one of pork floss, and finally the you tiao. They get to work trying to cut it up with their chopsticks. It's not easy with how much it clings to their chopsticks (guess they don't call it sticky rice for nothing), but they manage to hack out a manageable chunk, which they proceed to try.
The rice is almost pudding-like with how chewy it is, softly blanketing the saltiness of pork floss and the fading crisp of you tiao. They carefully write down a few lines. It's not a particularly complex dish, per se, not being crafted by chefs who are also masters in gastronomy, but it's lovely nonetheless. This is something that's humble, that has no need to be ostentatious, because it doesn't feel the need to prove it's good. It knows it's good, so it doesn't have to show off.
Ah, the good old trick of personifying the dishes they sample. That's never not a crowd-pleaser.
Next, Halle takes a sip from the tall glass of soy milk. It's not thin like cow's milk, which is what they expected, instead it's thick and lumpy with half-blended soybeans. But it's good, almost surprisingly so. The drink is light despite how velvety it is, and not as sweet as they expected it to be. After another sip, they quickly jot down, while perhaps not made with the world's finest ingredients, which many restaurants will boast their beverages to consist of, this soy milk was definitely made with a genuine passion for cooking. Amidst the fragrant flavour of soybean, you can taste love.
There. Pulling the "passion and love" card has never failed them, either.
Leon returns, one hand carefully balancing a tray of dirty dishes. "How are you liking the food?"
"It's really good." They carefully school their expression into one of careful politeness. "I enjoyed the soy milk a lot."
"It was Vic's first time making it, so he'll be glad to hear that." He moves his tray to the other hand. "You've been talking like a robot this whole time, man. You sure you're fine?"
Before they can stop themself, Halle blurts out, "fewer people have been reading my writing and it's really getting to me." They nearly clap their hands over their mouth right after it slips out. I better not blow my cover, not like this!
To their surprise, sympathy flashes through Leon's expression. "Oh, I get that feeling. You know when you pretty much pour everything you have into a story, to the point where it feels like you've put a little bit of your soul into it, but then literally nobody reads it? Then you start thinking that maybe your stuff isn't that good anyways, and why should you even bother when nobody appreciates the effort you put in. That hurts like nothing else."
They sigh, "yeah, I know. I didn't know you were a writer, though."
"I like writing stories and stuff." He puts the tray down on the table. "I publish them online like you, but they're far from popular."
"I'd like to read them."
His gaze lights up. "Really? I can send you the link to my Tumblr page when I'm on my break. It's only ten minutes away, so you can stick around if you want."
After Leon's left with their dishes, Halle busies themself with finishing the review, realising with relief that it manages to wrap up in those two and a half pages. They're just slipping their notebook back into their bag when the door opens and they hear familiar laughter.
Ella and Mariam, both of them dressed casually unlike them, enter the restaurant, and Ling quickly moves a chair out of the way so Ella can keep wheeling inside. Mariam waves at them quickly as she sits down at a table.
Leon runs to greet them a few minutes later, and Halle's surprised to see him talking to them like old friends. After some quick banter they can't hear, he runs into the kitchen and returns with a clear plastic bag, which contains six of the Portuguese egg tarts they had the last visit. Mariam carefully stows them in her bag. Ella rests her arm on the table, eyeing Leon with a grin. When she grabs his hand, they suddenly remember what she told them right before their very first visit: be sure to have an arm-wrestling match with the waiter after you're done.
The arm-wrestling match, if it can even be called one, is over in a matter of seconds, with Leon's hand being slammed onto the table as he winces. Once he's been released, he flaps his sore hand about, groaning, "what's that, your third win?"
"My fourth. Or to be exact, your fourth loss, as compared to your zero victories." Ella laughs. "You'd like that carrying all those trays would make you a little buff."
"'Fraid not."
"I kinda feel bad for you. Part of me kind of wants to let you win on purpose, but that wouldn't look very good on me." She catches sight of Halle at the corner of her eye.
"I'm not wrestling Mariam, either."
"No, you're not." She raises her voice slightly to call, "Halle! I bet you forgot about the arm-wrestling match I told you to have. You can do it now!"
Leon's head whips back to look at them. "You two know each other?"
"We go to the same school." They stand up, rolling their shoulders, to walk towards Ella and Mariam's table. "And don't feel bad about losing to Ella. I don't think anyone's beat her before."
She wheels back slightly to give them room. Halle sits down across Leon, rests their elbow on the table and goes to clasp his shockingly-warm hand. They can feel his fingers pressing into the back of their hand.
"Three… two… one… go!"
This joust takes a bit longer, and they strain to push Leon's arm over, but he's stronger than they expected. Fingertips digging into their skin, grip tight, he finally manages to pin Halle's hand down onto the table.
Ella raises her eyebrows. "Well, I can't say I didn't expect this. But that was fun to watch."
Mariam rolls her eyes good-naturedly and leans down to peck her on the cheek. "We have to get going soon. Tell Vic we say hi."
After the two of them have left, Leon turns back to Halle. "I didn't hurt your hand, did I?"
"Not at all." They pull their phone out of their pocket, asking, "so were you gonna send me your Tumblr?"
"Uh-huh." After a few rapid types, the writing page has been sent. Leon smiles up at them. "And don't worry about fewer people reading your work. I've never read your stuff, but I'm sure it's amazing. If people want to stop reading it, it's their loss."
They smile, a genuine one this time. "Thanks, Leon. Really."
"Thanks for agreeing to read my stuff, too. I'd love to check out the things you write one day, too."
A notification pops up on their phone, of Stellan asking when they'll be home. Halle stands up reluctantly again to get their stuff, then pays at the register. Leon waves from his table, and when he tilts his head, his hair once again covers his eye. "See you soon!"
They wave back, but don't say anything. As they step out of Wang's and into the sunlight, they firmly remind themself that the review should be out by next week. After that, there'll be no returning.
