♪♫︵‿୨ Thursday September 26, 2024 ୧‿︵♫♪

"Bonnie, your lunch date is here!" Denise called out in a sing-song voice, drawing my attention to the front door.

I smiled as Yoongi sidled through the entrance. "He's not my date," I reminded her for what felt like the millionth time. "We're just good friends who enjoy lunch together."

"Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Hon," she whispered as we watched the gorgeous man stride toward the hostess's desk like he was on a runway. "I've seen the way he looks at you."

I waved her off and stepped out from behind the desk. "Hi!" I greeted Yoongi with a smile. "You're right on time. Find a table, and I'll let Woo know you're here and that I'm taking my break."

As Yoongi headed to a table, I walked toward the kitchen, reflecting on how much time we'd spent together since the Labor Day party. Hanging out with him was always comfortable. As a fellow introvert, he preferred relaxed, quiet places like I did. While he was more spontaneous and lived in the moment, I viewed the world through a more creative and empathetic lens. Sometimes, it felt like we were polar opposites; other times, it felt like we truly understood each other.

I informed Wooyoung that I was taking my break and that Yoongi had arrived. He promised to whip up something special for us. One of the perks of working at the restaurant was that we got a meal with each shift. Wooyoung was an incredible cook, and even after months here, I still struggled to pick a favourite dish. Choosing one would be like picking a favourite child—impossible and cruel.

"Lunch will be out shortly," I said as I took a seat opposite Yoongi in one of the booths. I noticed a couple of mocktails waiting on the table. "I see San has some concoctions for us to try?"

"Yeah, he wanted our opinions," Yoongi replied, sliding a dark golden drink toward me. "This one is—let me see if I can remember—a pineapple grapefruit yuzu mocktail."

I was impressed with how San had presented it. The sugar rim made the martini glass look elegant, and it was garnished with a wedge of pineapple and a sprig of mint. "And this one is... unicorn lemonade? I think?" he added, pointing to a second drink.

The second drink was unlike anything I had taught San. It seemed he had gone off and done his own research, which impressed me. At first glance, the drink seemed simple but as I looked into it more, it was surprisingly complex. He had managed to create layers inside the glass, one being a pink liquid down the bottom and the other being what I assumed was lemonade coloured with blue dye. Star-shaped ice cubes in red and blue floated atop the blue layer, and the margarita glass had a rainbow-coloured sugar rim. It looked stunning—whimsical, even.

"People are going to go crazy posting photos of this one," I remarked, gesturing to the unicorn lemonade. "I have a feeling it will go viral on Instagram."

Yoongi nodded. "I can help set up catchy hashtags and create some buzz with a few posts to draw people in. We'll chat with Wooyoung and San once you guys finalize the drinks menu. Personally, I think the unicorn lemonade is a winner... it tastes as amazing as it looks."

I couldn't help but agree. I was proud of San for pushing himself to create something that could steal the spotlight on the menu. He had been diligently honing his mixology skills, learning the basics of different alcohols, their densities, and how they interacted. He already had a decent grasp of pouring and measuring from his barista experience, but the biggest challenge was figuring out which liquors and mixers complemented each other.

"I stepped out of my comfort zone a couple of days ago," I said, shifting the conversation. Yoongi raised an eyebrow, silently urging me to continue. "I climbed Diamond Head by myself."

Yoongi clapped his hands, a wide smile spreading across his face. "You finally did it! How did it feel? Did you want to die after?"

I had been talking about wanting to conquer the Diamond Head summit trail for weeks. It took some mental preparation, but I finally tackled it on Tuesday afternoon after getting off work early.

"It was easier than I thought in some parts, but the stairs nearly killed me," I laughed, recalling how close I came to giving up near the top because of those relentless stairs. "It might have been less than a mile, but it felt much longer."

"I did it once when I was 15 on a dare... never again," Yoongi shivered as if recalling a traumatic memory. "I'm not afraid to admit I don't like being that close to a volcano—even if they don't know when the last eruption was."

"So, where would you suggest I go next?" I asked, curious.

Yoongi paused, tapping his finger on his chin. He sometimes acted more like an old man than someone in his early 30s. "Have you been to the Aloha Tower yet?" I shook my head. "Then I'd say go there. Best view in the city, hands down, and it's an iconic symbol of Hawaii."

"I've only seen it from a distance. What's so special about it?" I asked, trying to suppress my laughter at the horrified look on Yoongi's face.

"What's so special about it?" Yoongi repeated incredulously as if my ignorance was the most preposterous thing he'd ever encountered. "It's only one of the most significant landmarks in Hawaii's history. Built in 1926, it was the tallest building here for four decades, and the clock was one of the largest in the United States. For years, the only way to reach O'ahu was by sea, and the tower served as a welcoming beacon for visitors."

I nodded, starting to appreciate why the locals held this piece of history in such high regard. "The Aloha Tower is such a crucial landmark," he continued, pausing to take a sip of the unicorn mocktail, "that after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Coast Guardsmen were ordered to protect it from potential occupation. They even painted the Tower in camouflage to help it blend in at night."

I was seeing a different side of Yoongi as he spoke passionately about something that might seem ordinary to others. His eyes lit up with enthusiasm, revealing a deep connection to the history of his home and its people.

"From up there, you can see the entire tapestry of Honolulu—the city, the ocean, even Diamond Head. It's like the whole island is saying 'Aloha' to you," he added, his voice full of warmth.

"You've convinced me to go," I said, returning his smile. "Maybe it would be more fun with a tour guide? Wanna join me?"

"I'm in! But only if we get those poke bowls from Ono Seafood. They have the best ahi poke in town," he replied, his excitement palpable.

I extended my hand toward him. "Deal! But you have to promise we'll stop by Matsumoto's for shaved ice for dessert. It's non-negotiable—I've been dying to go back since Yeosang took me the first time."

"It's a date then," he said cheerfully.

"You two finally going on a date?" Wooyoung interjected as he set plates on the table.

I hadn't realised my boss had approached; I was too caught up in my conversation with Yoongi. I shook my head while Yoongi explained our plans to visit the Aloha Tower together. As much as I wished it were a date, I knew it was too soon and far too dangerous. If anything happened to Yoongi because of my being in witness protection, I would never forgive myself. It was safer for both him and my heart to keep things friendly. So, I decided to keep my budding crush on Yoongi to myself for now.

♪♫︵‿୨ Friday September 27, 2024 ୧‿︵♫♪

I hadn't been able to shake Yoongi's comment from yesterday about our trip to Aloha Tower being a date. Even though I knew he didn't mean it in a romantic sense, my mind kept spiralling into daydreams. My heart longed to explore the idea of a romantic first date with him, while my brain was the relentless buzzkill, reminding me of WITSEC and the dangers that loomed over my life.

To distract myself and stave off any potential regrets, I decided to channel my energy into finding love for my single friends.

Over the past few weeks, I had noticed a man coming in nearly every morning for breakfast. Through our brief interactions, I learned his name was Hongjoong. He was very friendly and kind, always flashing a warm smile that brightened the room. Normally, I wasn't a fan of mullet hairstyles, but he somehow pulled it off effortlessly. His mousey-brown hair was cut just right, long enough in front to look trendy, yet surprisingly flattering with a slightly longer back.

I'd gathered that Hongjoong was a teacher. A couple of times, he'd ordered his usual double-shot iced Americano, asking for an extra shot or two because he needed it to handle his students. I didn't know whether he was a middle-school teacher like Poppy or whether he taught at an elementary or high school.

What I couldn't help but notice was how Hongjoong's gaze would light up whenever San was around—like a compass needle irresistibly drawn to true north. Each time Hongjoong walked into the restaurant, it was as if an unseen force pulled his attention straight toward San, revealing an attraction that seemed to deepen with each visit.

Yesterday, I mentioned to Yoongi how Hongjoong looked at San like a poet finds inspiration in their muse, or like a sailor seeks the guiding light of a lighthouse in a vast ocean—constant, focused, filled with a silent yearning. I casually let slip that I was considering playing matchmaker for the two. Instead of encouraging my idea, Yoongi firmly advised against it, claiming I was meddling. He believed that if the two were meant to connect, they should find their way to each other on their own.

I disagreed. San was notoriously shy about making the first move, and Hongjoong didn't seem confident enough to approach the man who had clearly captured his interest.

During one of our mixology lessons, I asked San why he was still single. He opened up about his desire to fall in love but confessed that he was terrified of rejection. Between his family's negative reaction to his coming out and the humiliation he faced when he'd asked the wrong guy out, his confidence had taken a serious hit.

With the dining area relatively quiet, I dropped off Hongjoong's iced Americano and gestured to the empty chair across from him, silently asking if I could join him. He nodded eagerly, evidently pleased to have some company.

"How's your morning been so far?" I asked, starting the conversation with an easy question.

"It would be better if there was a shot of whiskey in here," he chuckled, shaking his head. "That makes me sound like I have an alcohol problem."

"I didn't think that at all. Some mornings, coffee just doesn't cut it."

"You get me, then. I have to talk to a student's parents today about his behaviour." He sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that resonated in my soul. "You'd think a 15-year-old would know better than to stick bubble gum in the bell of brass instruments, right?"

I laughed, incredulous at the absurdity of it all. "I'd like to think so, but then again, kids these days learn everything from TikTok—and unfortunately, common sense isn't one of them." Hongjoong nodded, looking like he dealt with that problem all too often. "So, I take it you're a high school music teacher?"

"Yeah, I just started at Kaimuki High." He said it as if I would know what that meant, but I didn't. "Part of my challenge is that I took over from a beloved teacher who retired, and I'm new to the island. Most of the kids are great, but a few push back because they think they don't have to listen to—and I quote, 'a fucking Haole or Hapa.'"

I didn't know how to respond, so I placed my hand on his, squeezing gently in a comforting gesture. For students to refer to their teacher in such a derogatory manner was the height of disrespect here. I had been called a Haole a few times since arriving, but it hadn't been used as an insult toward me. The term, which refers to non-native Hawaiians or Polynesians, can be pejorative depending on the context. Most of the time, it's simply used to describe foreigners or tourists. Hapa means 'part' in Hawaiian and typically refers to someone of mixed Caucasian and East Asian descent.

Just then, the kitchen bell rang, announcing that Hongjoong's breakfast was ready. I excused myself and hurried to the pass. As I collected the kimchi spam musubi omelette, I noticed another plate waiting.

Wooyoung leaned over the pass, his face peeking through the heat lamps. "Have breakfast with him," he said. "He seems lonely and could use a friend. This is the first time I've seen him smile this week. Plus, with the rainy weather, I'm not sure how many more people we'll get today."

"Thank you," I whispered as I picked up the plates. I placed Hongjoong's breakfast in front of him and smiled as I settled back into my seat. "Is it okay if I eat with you?"

"Please. You're officially my second friend here."

After taking a bite of my omelette, I asked, "Would you like to gain a few more? I have a feeling you'd fit in well with my friends." The excited smile he gave me answered my question. "You free tomorrow night?"

Hongjoong laughed, a sound so genuine it warmed my heart. "I'm free every night."

"Hopefully not for much longer," I said, pulling my phone out of my apron. I quickly typed a message to our group chat, inviting anyone free to join us for drinks tomorrow night. Replies came in swiftly, confirming they were available. I handed my phone to Hongjoong, asking him to put in his number. Once I got it back, I called the number so he'd have mine too.

"I'll let you know what the plans are, okay?"

By the time Hongjoong finished his breakfast, he looked noticeably more relaxed than when he'd walked in. We'd covered a variety of topics, and I felt like I'd made a new friend. Yoongi was wrong about my meddling causing problems—I still hadn't discovered Hongjoong's relationship status, but I had helped a lonely man potentially find some new friends. Maybe if he and San felt comfortable around each other, sparks would start flying.