Page 1 of Storm in a Teacup
CHAPTER ONE
Ben
Whoever spread the egregious lie thatbraveryis a good thing deserves a proper kick in the nuts.
I shove my hands in my jacket pockets as I walk briskly down the dark streets of Edinburgh. Today, I moved here from Newtonmore, my hometown in the Highlands.This was a brave endeavor.
However, too much bravery in such a short stint has thrown my karmic scale off balance. The nerve of me, honestly. Everyone knows you can’t move to a new cityandconfess romantic feelings for your best friend on the same day.
Especially when you are well aware that he does not feel the same.
But I did that. Me. Brave boy. After months of pining, a bat of courage bashed me over the head.
We were leaving the pub after I had spent all goddamn day staring at his perfect face, listening to his perfect laugh, and wanting to kiss him on his illegally perfect mouth.
As we stood on a street lit only by dim lanterns hung on either side of the pub door, I grabbed him by his broad fuckingshoulders and said, aloud, “David, I’m in love with you. In a romantic way. In an I-want-to-kiss-you-on-the-mouth sort of way.”
Oh? How did that go?
Well, with hesitancy in his voice, he said to me, “Ben…you know I love you. You’re my best friend, but I-I don’t…love you in that way. I…I’m with Callum.” He sighed before he added, “Even if I wasn’t…”
He didn’t need to finish that sentence, as I knew what he meant to say. He would still never love me even if he did not have someone else. Ridiculously, his words did not come as a shock. Not at all, despite every fantasy I’ve ever had about this moment going in a very different direction.
Even so, I didn’t know being this utterly broken was possible.
I shattered into granules when he asked me, “Are you sure, Ben? I mean, I’m so happy you figured out you’re attracted to men—congratulations, really—but are you sure you’re not directing this toward me because it’s easier?”
Because he’s my best mate, and he’s gay, is what he meant by that. But his assumption was wrong.
I shook my head slowly. “Falling in love with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Of course I’m sure.”
That’s when I walked away.
I don’t even know where I’m walking. I needed to get away after that. Positively mortifying, right? Confess love, get rejected, run away.
Welcome to the world of bisexuality, Bennett Pyeon.
I spot an empty bench along the street and sit heavily on it, head in my hands. Stupid.Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I do that? Especially now. Especially when I just moved to this city to be closer to him. Well, him and my sister. I moved here for a business venture—Isla and I are opening a café. It wasn’tjustDavid.But it’s only him I can focus on.
It was David who held me back from moving here for so long, but it was also David who convinced me to make the jump. David and the damn café. I let myself get too excited about the café—figured if that was going to work out,everythingmight work out.
At least opening preparations will keep me busy. So busy that maybe I can dig myself out of this abyss of embarrassment. It’ll be fine. I’ll go no-contact for a week, and then I can face him again. I’m being overdramatic, surely. It’s what I do. Make a big deal out of nothing. Everyone says so. This is another nothing.
My eyes squeeze shut. It doesn’t feel like nothing. It feels like my insides have been pulverized, yet I’m being forced to strut around as though I’m whole.
I’ve felt like this for months—since I realized my feelings. I’ve spent time hinting at them around David, trying to get an inkling of whether or not there was a chance. Every time Iknewthere wasn’t, but I held on to hope that maybe if hereallyknew how I felt, it would be different. I mean, up until thirty minutes ago, he was under the impression I was straight. Up until four months ago, as was I.
But then I realized how I look at him. How I feel about him. How I’ve looked at other men. How I’d ignored these feelings for so many years because I’m also attracted to women.
I remove my head from my hands. It doesn’t matter. I’ve worked through this, sexuality and all. Now, I just need to get over my feelings. I did the thing. It didn’t work out. Time to move forward.
Easier said than done.
I’m not sure how long I sit on the bench staring at a mixture of nothing and the tree planted fifteen meters away, but it feels like it’s been a while when a ginger-haired lass plops down nextto me with an audible exhale. A quick survey of Grassmarket proves that there were plenty of unoccupied benches to choose from, but I’m of no mind to judge. When she lets out another sigh, I figure she needs to be alone without actually being alone, thus choosing to share my bench.
Then she lets out a third sigh, and I start to wonder if she’s waiting for me to ask her what’s amiss. I’m craving a distraction, so I bite.
“You alright?” I ask, tapping away at the silence the night has created around us and her plentiful sighs.
