Absinthe

Chapter 8 : Gossip Gurl

The audience was roaring. Or, at least, I could see them shouting and clapping hard. The funny thing was I couldn't hear anything.

Someone from behind gently pushed me forward. I took several uncertain steps and found myself walking toward a well-dressed couple under the spotlight in the middle of the stage. As soon as I reached them, I too was bathed in spotlight.

As if someone had pressed the unmute button, all sounds suddenly came back.

"Welcome, welcome!" said the man.

"Mr. Philippines, your chosen judge is none other than Mr. Lee, the chairman of Samsong Group of Companies!"

The woman's introduction was met with an even louder round of applause as another spotlight illuminated the judges' table.

"Good evening, BJ," greeted the old man.

"Good evening, Chairman Lee!" I greeted back with more enthusiasm and respect than I intended.

"My question for you is this," he started to the audience's delight. "If you were to adopt a gay name, what would it be and why?"

I don't understand how or why, but my mouth seemed to have a mind of its own when it spoke in confidence. "Thank you for that wonderful question! I believe that if I were to adopt a gay name, it would be... Twinkle."

The crowd screamed in ecstasy, the collective voices of gays and girls in the audience screaming for my victory. As soon as the uproar subsided, I continued.

"Twinkle because..." I paused for dramatic effect. "Twinkle, twinkle little star!"

The crowds went wild. The screaming grew louder and louder, and the couple who were hosting the show started hugging me and telling me that I won.

Then, there were trumpets and horns as gold and rose-colored confetti exploded graciously above.

As they started falling, I could feel the sharp sting of their coldness.

Why is the confetti cold?

"Should we call a doctor?" I heard someone say.

There was that sharp sting of coldness again. I opened my eyes to blinding sunlight as the curtains in my hotel room were drawn. I tried putting my hand over my eyes, but it was too much of an effort. My arms had never felt that heavy.

"Here, sir, please drink some water."

The cool water was a lifesaver. After a few minutes, I finally adjusted to being hungover and successfully propped myself up against the headboard.

"I'm sorry, what time is it?"

"It's 1:30 in the afternoon, sir," answered the female staff. "We have been trying to call you since 11:30 to remind you to check out, but you weren't picking up or answering the door. We had to come in to see if you were okay."

I nodded in understanding. "Don't worry. I'll pay for another night."

"Thank you, sir."

"Is it possible to order haejangguk?"

"Sir?"

"It's a Korean dish for hangovers," I explained with great difficulty. "And I really need some hangover medicine right now. Can someone buy me some?"

"Certainly, sir," the woman responded. "We'll have it delivered from a nearby Korean restaurant."

"I think Jiwoo's in," said a man standing beside my bed who I just noticed. He was talking to the female staff. "I'm sure he can cook that for sir."