Numbered Love by Maysam Yabandeh - HTML preview

The Basic Instinct

With blood dripping from his right sleeve, Nam takes the last steps of his long journey from Insanity Nightclub in Bangkok, where he used to strip, to the Story Bridge, where Livia, his true love, awaits him. As his vision grows blurry, the memory of his eventful journey flashes before his eyes.

With little time left to find an immigration path, Nam went straight to Ecuador, the popular gateway to heaven. Ecuador is the closest country to the US that doesn’t require visas from citizens of Asian countries. On the flight, his seat was next to Ning, a musician from China whose dream was to work in New York’s bars, the epicenter of jazz. They shared the rest of the journey since then, their friendship growing stronger day by day, reaching a level that some called bromance and others just romance.

The two bros stuck with each other through thick and thin on their northward bus journey across the Darien Gap, Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala, and finally Mexico, the last stop before America, where dreams come true. For some. For Ling, however, the journey ended a few hundred meters after crossing the US border, where they were shot at by the Border Patrol—Nam in the arm, Ning in the chest. Leaving his wounded bro behind, Nam ran away from the Border Patrol to save his own life and his own dreams. Carrying nothing but $46 and the guilt of abandoning his bro, Nam bought the bus ticket to get himself into Livia’s town and onto the Story Bridge before midnight of April 10.

Nam halts when a hand presses firmly against his chest. He slowly raises his head and blinks to clear his vision. The man blocking his way is the old, homeless man who either doesn’t stink anymore or Nam smells as bad as him. Their pullovers are quite similar anyway, both shabby and worn-out. Nam fished his out of a garbage bin at the bus stop just a few hours ago, where he found himself unprepared for the north’s everlasting winter and his pockets too light to afford to buy anything other than a hot dog.

“Got a few bucks to spare for a broken heart?” the homeless man says, his attitude unkind and his tone demanding.

Nam gazes into the old man’s eyes, as if looking into a mirror that shows everything he hates about himself. Almost. Although the old man is as bald as Nam, he has a half-gray beard. Do I have a beard? Nam wonders. He doesn’t remember and doesn’t care anymore either. Sigh.

The homeless man mumbles something indistinct while giving Nam a pitiful look.

Before Nam says anything, the old man looks away and, using the railing for support, staggers toward the center of the bridge, where destiny has a rendezvous with Nam.

Ignoring the blood dripping from his right arm, Nam also resumes his reluctant march, racing the homeless man toward Livia, the eternal love. Perhaps Livia could bring some light to his otherwise darkened world. Nam has lost his.

Throughout his life, Nam has always been searching, but somewhere along the way, he forgot what for. At every dead end, he found nothing but glimpses of a creature fed on the relentless pursuit of primal instincts—the beast within. And it ain’t pretty. It’s as ugly as hell—if such a place exists. He envies people of faith. He wants to have faith in something, but he can’t. He desperately needs something as beautiful as love to start believing again.

He no longer cares if it is true love or not. As long as it remotely resembles love enough for Nam to pretend it exists, that hope, that belief is enough to give some meaning to an otherwise meaningless life.

Wearing a micro skirt and a deep V-neck crop top that barely contains her breasts, Livia leans on the railing in the middle of the bridge, staring at the river below.

Nam smiles, or at least tries to, when his gaze falls on his destiny alternating between puffing on her cigarette and drinking from a brown-bagged bottle. There she is, all the hope that is left in this world. While trying to hide his bleeding hand behind him, Nam clears his throat.

Livia shivers, whether from the lashes of the cruel life or the freezing chill of the everlasting winter. She throws the cigarette butt into the roaring water beneath the bridge, a thief that carries away the last remnants of their childhood memories, never to give them back. She takes a swig from the brown-bagged bottle and lights another cigarette.

Nam clears his throat again, this time louder.

Livia turns to Nam, traces of tears streaking her heavy makeup. “Number?” she asks, her voice hoarse.

Nam takes a hard swallow. “I don’t care anymore.”

“Number,” Livia bellows, like the drunk she is.

Looking at the cobblestone ground, Nam reluctantly raises his left palm, showing the number five.

“No fucking way,” Livia yells, breaking the brown-bagged bottle on the ground. “How the fuck did you find 500 whores to sleep with?”

“I was lagging behind actually, but then one morning I woke up next to a ladyboy in Phuket. He showed me his Grindr app, and the rest is history.”

“Fuck! I was this close to beating you.”

“How so? What’s your number?” Nam asks, the words reluctant as if they didn’t want to leave his mouth.

“499.”

“Oh, whatever. I honestly don’t care anymore. Let’s just fall in love, and…and get over with this ridiculous shit.”

Livia takes another puff on her cigarette. “Ladyboy, really?”

“In my defense, he was prettier than most girls in Bangkok.”

Livia chuckles, the expression on her face barely changing. “You stink by the way.”

“Sorry. Long story.”

“What’s up with the bald head? Monk?”

“No, AIDS.”

“Shit.”

“You?” Nam asks.

“No, I’m clean. Aside from herpes, of course.”

“Ha, lucky you.” Feeling weak in the knees, Nam leans on the railing, gazing at the water beneath the bridge mercilessly roaring with hunger. “Three minutes more, and it will be all over forever. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for handling this well. You’ve grown. Congrats!”

“Handling?” Livia slaps Nam on the shoulder. “Handling what?”

“You know, your failure. Not that it matters, but—”

“Not so fast, fucker. If you think Livia will enter her final romance as a loser, you don’t know a damn thing about her.”

“Come on, Livia. There are only three minutes left. What could you possibly do now?”

“Got a few bucks to spare for a broken heart?” the old, homeless man says, having caught up to Nam.

“Hey,” Livia yells at the homeless man. “Wanna fuck?”

“What?!” Nam blurts out, his voice squeaking.

“Yeah,” the homeless man responds cheerfully.

Livia pulls down her thong, lifts her micro skirt, and bends over the railing. “Make it quick.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Livia,” Nam cries.

“Hey, you stay out of this,” Livia shouts. “This is my life. I’m a woman, and this is my body. I can do whatever I want with my body. And I refuse to be a loser. Never.”

Nam takes a step back, gripping the railing to steady himself.

The homeless man drops his beer can, then his pants, and rushes behind Livia. He grabs Livia’s hips and thrusts his crotch against it, groaning.

“Oh, God, no,” Nam cries, tears clogging his throat.

“Are you doing it? I don’t feel a thing,” Livia complains, glancing back at the homeless man.

“Shut up, bitch. It takes time.”

“Forget it,” Livia says, standing upright. “We don’t have time.” She shoves the homeless man against the railing and kneels before his crotch. As Livia holds his penis before her mouth, she throws up on his pulled-down pants.

“What are you doing, you bitch,” the homeless man nags.

“Shut up, you stinky old fart.” Livia pinches her nose, closes her eyes, and continues giving him head.

“For the love of God, Livia,” Nam pleads, hoping those words still hold meaning for her as they once did for him. His blurred vision, however, finds no trace of either Love or God stirring the slightest change in Livia’s pursuit of her lofty life goal: The Number 500. When was it that our made-up life goals overwrote the purpose? Sigh. Where have the colors of unspoiled wonder gone? Why is everything so ugly?

Livia takes the penis out of her mouth and looks up at the homeless man. “Don’t you fucking dare piss in my mouth. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, bitch. Keep sucking.”

Livia growls but quickly resumes giving head when her gaze falls on the clock tower, now showing only two minutes to midnight. “You better get hard fast, old man.”

“You know what, I think I lied,” Nam jumps in, his voice trembling. “My number is 499 too. I think I just miscounted. Can you stop now? Please.”

Livia lifts her index finger, signaling Nam to give her just one more minute.

Before his wobbling knees give out, Nam steadies himself by leaning against the railing. He holds his face in his bloody palms and shuts his eyes to the soul-burning scene.

“Fuck,” Livia barks. “Why can’t you just come already, you old fart.”

As Nam peaks through his blood-smeared fingers, the homeless man ejaculates, splattering across Livia’s face—some on her cheek and some into her mouth. “Take it, bitch,” the homeless man says.

Livia lets out a deep sigh, and with a tone of despair, she mumbles, “I’m a woman, and I wanted to do that.” After a moment of pondering, she sniffles, clears her throat, and rises to her feet, now face to face with the homeless man, “I’m not a bitch, you bitch.” She smacks the old man in the face and shoves him to the ground.

Livia pulls up her undies and turns to Nam, a triumphant grin all over her face. “Now, I’m ready to fall in love with you, on equal terms.” She checks the clock tower, which reads 11:59. “And right on time.”

“Bazinga,” Nam says. “Bazinga, Bazinga, Bazinga.”

Livia looks around, watching nothing happen. The messed-up world is still upright as if it will dictate Nam’s life until eternity. “You’re out of Bazingas. Once a loser, always a loser.” As Livia approaches Nam, with her forearm she clears the old man’s semen off her mouth. “Come on, love. Give me a kiss.”

“No.” Nam grips the cold metal of the railing and musters the last bits of his strength to hoist himself over.

“What the fuck do you mean no?” Livia asks, bewildered.

“I don’t wanna fall in love with you,” Nam says through his sobs.

“You? You don’t want to fall in love with me? Have you ever looked in a mirror?” She lets out a sinister laugh. “Ha, ha, ha. You make me laugh, you little, stinky, Vietcong, fuck-face.” She wipes away the fake tears at the corner of her eyes. “OK, listen to me, as I say this from the bottom of my heart: Sweetheart, I don’t wanna fall in love with a piece of a shit like you either—well, nobody does. But, what choices do you have?” Livia says through an ugly chuckle. “Your destiny is written. Our destiny is written. You will madly fall in love with me whether you want it or not. And you will love me for the rest of your miserable life.” She finishes the truth with a defiant roar. “You hear me?”

“Perhaps.” Nam sniffs softly, trying to steady himself after the sob. “Perhaps I cannot change it. But I can end it.” Nam leans over the river, his hand still gripping the railing.

“Don’t. If you kill yourself, you’ll go to Hell,” Livia says, her words as mirthless as divine scripture recited by a child-molester priest.

“Hell?!” Nam’s sneer comes out squeaky. “Look around you, honey. We’re already in hell. It takes a blind heart not to see it.” His grip on the railing loosens, fingers trembling as they slip away.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone, like this, do you hear me?” Livia growls through clenched teeth. “Who else would fall in love with me, after all this shit?”

“Frankly, my dear,” Nam says, glancing at Livia, “I don’t give a damn.”

“I hate you,” Livia shouts. “I hate you.”

Nam jumps.

“I hate you,” Livia shouts from above.

“Ding Dong,” the clock tower sings the midnight song.

“I love you,” Livia cries. “I love you,” she sobs.

“I love you too,” Nam says and hits the freezing cold water of the river. The hungry river wastes no time claiming his life, devouring him to the bottom of an endless abyss as dark as Nam’s world.

A sparkle that shines in Nam’s renewed heart, however, makes him see nothing but baby Livia. The memory floods him—the time when she kissed him for the first time, her innocence and love imprinted forever in his heart.

“I love you,” Nam hears Livia’s muffled cry from the end of the abyss, a voice that stirs a deep yearning in him to see again. He opens his eyes, and with it, the cruel world around him starts to crumble into nothing—an act of annihilation bestowed from the heavens. Nam smiles as he and Livia are drawn into a swirling time tunnel.