Work Text:
The airport is fuller than Toast expected.
At least everyone is using masks, he ponders, looking to the attendant. She's kind despite him being a little late, Canada is like that. Waiting for her to check his ticket he looks back at the door. He didn't want to leave his family, not for a couple of months, but with the mess of his public presence, he could use some time in sunny LA.
"That is W-A-N-G with an A, not an O," he says, doing his best to sound polite, she types away without seeming to be bothered.
It doesn't take long for him to be on his way to the plane, being late and in first-class has some advantages. No loitering. Spares him the empty time he would fill thinking about things he didn't want to. An empty mind is the devil's workshop after all. Toast sights as he gets into his seat, nodding to the flight attendant, he has five hours ahead of him. The tray table is shaky when he set his notebook, he might as well work while he can.
His phone's screen lights up, the plane leaves in ten minutes, and he has 18 messages and counting. All from Lily. Opening them he snorts at the poop drawing. "I found out from Brodin ur coming back this week", "u call me your best friend and do this", "istg toast", "thursday I'm not even going to look u in the face", "pls come back tho". He snorts and jumps to the end. "u shud put this as your profile picture", "because that was a shitty move".
"You shouldn't explain your jokes, Lily, you know this by now", he laughs while typing.
"f u toast (¬_¬)".
A noise drawls his eyes away, an old man with a thick beard sets his baggage on the compartment. The shade of grey of his mask matches his headscarf and the lilac of his long button-up. Everything about him screams pretentious, except for the glint in his eyes as they met Toast's. Chatty. Toast fights the tension in his jaw as the man greets him, hope for a quiet flight shattering.
"Good morning,' he answers, turning back to his notebook.
"I hope you are fine with me sitting beside you," he says.
"Sure," Toast says, not looking towards him. Facebook's new PR guy sent him a long text, filled with graphs and claims of market research. It would not take a second reading if it wasn't so uninteresting he set it aside a couple of times. When the flight attendant enters talking, he tunes her out. But she says sorry one too many times, curiosity sways him. Dark eyes met his.
"She is very kind, is she not?" he says and looks away, nodding. Hands shaking on the armrest. The warning they can't use electronic lights up, Toast glances at the graph, he can finish it later.
"What happened?" he says, his tray hits its place hard as he organizes, earning him side eyes as she explains the safety measures.
"A lady", he pauses at the word, "refused to sit by my side. Because I'm Arab, and she didn't wish to catch covid."
Toast grimaces, that was probably the least racist thing she said, "yeah, that's America sometimes." Firm hands grip his own as the plane takes flight.
"I'm Manish."
"Jeremy." It sounds awkward, even to Toast, and it gets more uncomfortable as the man continues to stare at him, holding his hand tight. He's sure this isn't a fan recognizing him, he's too old to be watching games. I doubt he even knows what a stream is. Toast doesn't expect to be recognized in public, not even when among us blew up it happened often, and in Canada, he's one more Asian guy. "So..." Toast says, hoping that breaking the silence will stop this. "Aren't you Indian?" It works, he nods, "That's not even an Arab country."
"She doesn't seem to care for a difference." He says with a burst of laughter. Toast didn't miss interacting with strangers, that's one good thing Lily likes to point out frequently about quarantine. The lack of obligation to be social. He doesn't agree, leaving the house is necessary sometimes, and people are weird enough without being starved for attention.
The electronics light turns off. Toast goes back to setting up his notebook, unbothered by the man's eyes on him. Explaining he knows geography to a stranger, nine AM on a plane is not in his realm of pleasantries. Politeness only gets you so far. Three more conversations pop up when he turns airplane mode off. "Michael knew???!!?! Toast WTF". A "Sorry man" from Scarra stops him. If Lily was anxious from him not telling her, or lack of answers, Scarra would say so.
"Michael can keep a secret." "And I only told Yvonne and Scarra. go be mad at Yvonne."
"I'm mad at u", no she's not.
"Scarra folded and told my crackhead shit.", "I'll help carry the legs for you when u back man, just ask", "DUDE", "I can totally code robodog to drag a body", "that would be sick". Those make him laugh, Michael never disappoints.
"Talking to the missus?"
"Hm..." Toast turns, "Oh-oh. No, no, just my friends."
"Have someone to get back to?" he asks, shooting his hand a pointed look.
"My friends," he deadpans.
The man's eyes go from the lack of a wedding ring to his black wristband. His stomach sinks. Talking about the soulmate thing isn't something he enjoys. With Rae and Sykkuno it's shovelling a younger sibling into not doing something stupid, not a discussion, his mark is never up to debate. A stranger on a plane isn't going to get a conversation over this out of him either. No... The band might be there, but the mark is clear in his head. The elliptic sparkling bubble and small people with their tiny crowns. It hasn't been private enough in years, everyone who watches him knows it's Janet. Not seeing what it is exactly doesn't stop them from knowing what it means.
Toast turns to the window, at the clouds, the city many miles under them. He didn't want to spend the trip thinking about this. Or Janet. Of course, with her moving to Vegas it would be hard, but coming back, helping her with it should be enough. Should erase any guilt. It doesn't.
"I always wanted to see America." Manish cuts at his thoughts, but it annoys him less this time. "I saved money all my teens and twenties, and I came, right before my wedding. My wife wasn't happy about that one," he laughs, "But I didn't know, there's no much opportunity to talk those things before an arranged marriage. When I first landed, I could tell I was closer to my soulmate. I could tell before I saw her. I never wanted to leave America again, I could elope, she knew that when I gave her my number. But she never called, nor did I. Bravery isn't one of my strong suits. I loved my wife, may her next life be kind, our children, grandchildren..." Music comes from behind them, muffled rap. "What I mean is, I've seen the way you're looking at your mark. In myself, for 60 years. Your bond isn't severed. Be patient."
Toast's gut twists, his heart does something he doesn't like. "What do you mean by severed?"
"A severed mark is the proof of a broken bond. It starts by greying on the edges. It's subtle, doesn't last for very long, just until the path is sealed, no longer seen as an option, possible, by your soul. As for your culture, I suppose you're American?"
"Canadian." Being Tai is none of his business, and he doesn't remember listening to much about this in Malaysia. It's never that important for children, why wear bands when all it'd hide is a circle or some lines.
"Westerns cover their marks, their souls, themselves, so nobody sees their fragilities. Not like the eastern that do, those who cover it do so for their faith. Here you become blind to the path the gods show fruitful. Your destiny, whatever form it might take." Manish looks pointedly at Toast's wristband, "You cover your marks from yourselves, and you can't see the small changes. Don't try to understand it beyond what can be judged. Hiding from your marks when you are hurt, like a hurt animal protecting your wound, makes you not notice things. Until it is still, like stale water. The path becomes a scar. Severed."
"Oh," Toast says, he never heard it explained like this. Lily wouldn't like the stale water comparison he supposes, which means he has to remember it enough to tell her later.
"I can tell this isn't your case." Toast is glad it isn't a question, he wouldn't answer if it was. "There's a big difference between destiny and karma, don't go into every relationship in your life with the destiny mindset. Treating whoever isn't on the other side of that poorly," he gestures at the mark, Toast can see a bit of the man's mark, bright, colourful and exposed. "As if them not being your one person is a waste of time, yours and theirs. That is fated to a grim ending. If you do so with your person, not necessarily your soul bound, you won't be ready for a relationship that could be your destiny."
The man goes on, explaining things, but Toast tunes him out. The day is brighter outside. When he starts talking about free will, Toast can't pretend to be paying attention anymore. He didn't sign up for this. After some time the man cleans his throat, Toast looks at him, drowsy.
"What do you want to do with your life?"
"I want to become a millionaire." He answers, voice rougher from lethargy, the man laughs.
"Fair enough. But from an old man, finding love is no small goal, don't leave it for when you're old and withering away."
Toasts mind jumps to someone and he shakes his head. That isn't a line of thought he wants to go down on either. Falling for a friend is doomed, and he's too old for this shit. He would much rather have an honest long talk with lily about his feelings than go down that path. God, he’d rather talk to Janet about her new boyfriend. "Thanks, man. I'll try. I'm going to work now ok."
"Yes, don't let me bother you." He takes a newspaper out of his handbag, physical. It's almost tweet-worthy from how long he hadn't seen one of those.
The graphs are confusing when he looks at his computer, this took more energy than he expected. Now he wants a nap more than anything. When he boarded the plane he had a plan, work on the way so he can have his evening off to see his friends. Maybe go to Rae's house, pay a surprise visit.
Looking outside he can almost visualise how his friends will react. Lily will be fake-mad for a while, she'll read too much into him coming back early. The knowing looks are part of how she functions, Toast is used to it. Yvonne will get him to solve her computer issues. Everyone in the house will just be ok. They'll adapt to him being back fast. Rae and Imane might be the most enthusiastic. For different reasons, albeit that is how Rae is, Poki will be bouncing off the walls for the damned hot tub stream. He would always come back for her birthday, but she had been anxious, it shows. And maybe he and Janet could get the awkwardness out of the way.
His phone lights up, brings him back to the present. "Morning \o/", "... You're coming back?!" He smiles, there’s a place he needs to go first. Being too old to fall for a friend doesn't stop him from caring about them. Janet can wait, he's early anyway. "See. That's why I told Scarra not to let Lily find out", he answers.
Another chat pops up, "Stop bullying her weirdo", "Wanna have dinner with us when you're back?"
"Sure why not, I'm back today though. Don't tell Lily.”
"Why are you like this??", "ok", "How do you even keep things from her she can read minds". Toast rolls his eyes and ignores it, Leslie is a big girl she can wait. He replies a quick good morning back at the other chat.
"You're so tsundere Jesus".
Toast goes back to his computer with a smile. Work is easier to deal with, and he might need the PR guy with how his public presence will change the next few days. Fans freak out, make assumptions and theories on less than this. Taking notes on the text he knows he'll work this out. He just needs to go steady. Breathe.