No additional warnings for this scene.
Ben is not impressed. He did not expect to be impressed, and in the end his prediction was proven true. The date that he was set up with for the evening by a well-meaning friend is simply, in a word, dull.
The irony is that Ben would not even be here if not for the fact he is in love with someone else. Someone who would never be here, at the Black Lotus Club, trying to woo Ben. He doesn’t need to woo Ben anyway, since it has been a foregone conclusion for years that Ben will only ever truly love Luo Fei...even if the object of his affections remains (thankfully) clueless about them. Ben sighs at the irony.
Still, being alone and being lonely are not the same thing, and a man has needs (some more carnal than others) and so: dating.
The boring human being continues yammering away about his job at a bank, of all things. Ben sighs, leans back in his chair a little, and wishes for three things, in order:
The last is a new thing, a tentative friendship based on their mutual feelings for Luo Fei, but the connection is genuine. He likes the way she wears pants and keeps up with Luo Fei and is so very fearless. And a good fighter. He’s seen her in action, and he’s not immune to the masculine charm of a bloody dust up. She’s almost boyish, for all her feminine attractions that Luo Fei appreciates, and that is a darker, carefully guarded fetish that Ben usually leaves in the dark.
The band has taken a break so now it’s just his date talking at him, no other distractions to be had. Ben decides it is time for a good offense so he mentions his own work, only to see the other man squirm a little and look away.
That is all the incentive Ben needs to launch into describing what, exactly, autopsies entail, and to expound philosophically on the true nature of putrefaction. He is counting down the seconds to when the boring human being will flee when he feels a pause in the whole room. It’s just a drop in sound, people’s chattering falling away for a moment, but it is as real as a pulse.
Heads are turning.
Must be new meat for chewing, Ben thinks, knowing he is being uncharitable, but he turns along with the rest of them and…
...and stops breathing.
Luo Fei is standing there, clean shaven, looking years younger and absolutely delicious in blood red lipstick, a dark green but brightly embroidered cheongsam that falls to just below his knees, and glittery, sequined heels. Worse, far far worse, is that he is towering over Xiaoman, who is resplendent in a full tux and patent balmorals. She is wearing no jewelry and no makeup that Ben can see, while Luo Fei is dripping pearls from his neck, his ears, his wrists, his fingers.
His hair has been curled and styled.
Her hair has been parted and slicked down like Rudolph Valentino.
His eyes, outlined in dramatic kohl, shine with the reflection of the chandeliers as he smiles demurely at her.
Her eyes are cold and stern as she stares out at everyone in the club, an open challenge to anyone who would doubt her authority.
Ben can’t breathe.
They are standing there like a warlord and her favored concubine, coolly holding court over the crowd that has stopped time to admire them. As they should, Ben thinks with a tinge of hysteria, because that is a godly couple to be worshiped.
Luo Fei gives a kittenish tilt of his head to Xiaoman and tugs at her, coy and alluring, pulling her down the steps into the club proper, stepping more gracefully in heels than some women Ben knows. Xiaoman gives him an indulgent smile tinged with a dangerous curl of possession.
The owner of the club, Andy, who is willowy and beautiful and usually more reserved, nearly runs down a guest to get to Xiaoman and Luo Fei and lead them to a prominent table.
Ben spins around, wishing he were anywhere else. This is hell and there is no way he can escape without them both seeing him. He knows without a doubt that this is about a case, because why else would either of them ever set foot in such a perverted environment, looking like that no less? But that thought does not help.
They know his ways, so it would not be a shock for them to notice him, but a humiliating burn brews in the pit of his stomach anyway. They will see that he’s here, that he is on a date with a man in a place like this. There is no hiding any point along that continuum.
They will see how pathetic he really is, and it hurts in exactly the way he always feared it would.