I kissed her neck. I smelled strawberries and mango fragrance. My nose grazed her jawline. Her soft noises encouraged me. "Sebastian," she said.

I pressed her against the apartment door. This was my third date in one day, and the day was almost over. Christmas Eve sucked.

After I hit the "jackpot" being on Champion, my mother acknowledged me as her only son. She called and invited me to attend the traditional holly-jolly shitty parties. The pretend game occurred, my cousins, second-cousins, and somehow third-cousins – I didn't know their names – asked what I was doing. All the small talks. I preferred sticking a knife in my eye than talking about the weather and my job. I knew we were related and I honestly didn't care.

Throughout the years, I created excuses. This year it was a promotion gig. I told my mother word for word: "The director specifically stated that rehearsal was on Christmas Eve."

There were no exceptions.

My mother allowed it as if I had any control.

She wished me luck and ended the call stating she'll meet me for New Year's Eve.

My dating apps had kept this long day preoccupied. My hand ran through the girl's auburn hair. I believed her name was Anna.

Anne.

I kissed her lips. Her left hand rested on the back of my neck, she kissed back with the same enthusiasm.

Annie?

"Shall we go inside?" she asked.

Her blue-gray eyes stared. Her right hand massaged overtop my disheveled oxford shirt. My three top buttons opened. I felt my Adam's apple bob up and down.

"Of course, darling."

Nicknames were my saving grace. The value depended on her interpretation. Women either love these endearments, or despised them as if they were mud on their shoes. She smiled.

And I'm in the clear.

She moved her hand to the doorknob. Her eyes never left mine. I chuckled and continued kissing her.

I had a routine. Spend an hour to two hours with the woman - if the time was shorter than an hour then the woman could feel used. The outcome I never desired was violence and hurt, which one possibility resulted in thrown crystal vases, clothes, wine glasses, peppermint hot chocolate –

I stopped.

Her.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked.

Her apartment door opened. She crossed over the threshold. She stared up at me. I nodded. My cheeks stretched out revealing a forced smile. One small dimple formed. Quickly, I said, "Yes."

She moved her mouth to reply, but I spoke first.

"I'm even better when I'm with you." I had to add that "cheese." I knew she would giggle and hit me on the shoulder.

Sugar would punch me.

The woman laughed. "That was a good one."

I took a step over the threshold into her apartment.

"

I cursed. I forgot Min-ho had customized my ringtone with his voice basically singing. Min-ho complained about how I never answered my phone whenever he called. One night, Min-ho "broke" into my phone and changed my ringtone.

"Your password is your birth year!? You need a new password," Min-ho stated.

Once I found out, I deleted the customized one. But I never changed the password. I now wish I did. Min-ho must have made a new ringtone. I took my phone out of my jean pocket.

"What?!"

"You like the ringtone?" Min-ho teased.

I ground my teeth.

"I don't have time to chit-chat."

The woman leaned against the door again. Tilting her head, her auburn hair draped down her right shoulder.

"I think you do," Min-ho teased.

"I'm hanging up."

"Okay," Min-ho said.

Although, I moved my phone from my ear.

I heard the next sentence perfectly.

"I found Sugar."

' ' ' ' ' '

I parked my black Mercedes-Benz along the street in downtown Cincinnati. My windshield wipers cleared away the freezing rain. I basically left the poor woman behind without much of an explanation. She shook her head. I promised we would have another get-together and enjoy each other's company.

The woman had no smile. Then she stood up straight, the kisses disappeared, no long stares, and the faint touches were gone.

"You don't even know my name," she replied, "Why the hell would we go on another date? Goodbye, Sebastian."

She slammed the door.

I was unfazed and proceeded to walk down the corridor.

"My name's Rebecca, Dumb a-!" she yelled before slamming the door once more.

I sat in my car as I looked around. I shook my head recalling the exchange.

Rebecca isn't close to Anne at all. Was Anne earlier? That must have been it. Anne was my second date.

I was haunted for a moment and then realized what I was doing. The goal. The person that got me to leave a woman – Rebecca. I turned off the ignition and got out of the car. The freezing rain continued making my hair wet. My heavy leather coat protected my upper body. I locked my car before crossing the seat.

The bouncer stood at the entrance. I didn't reach for my wallet. The tall gentleman simply nodded his head. "Go in."

Moving aside my hands, the bouncer ushered me towards the open door. I reverted back to my regular pose: hands in front and clasped together.

The neon lights inside streamed through the glass windows. Customers clustered into smaller groups around the bar and specific games that were throughout the area. Ever since the Golden Era bar was recently opened, I had twelve dates within the three months. I gave my date the option where to meet.

"August!"

Min-ho waved me down. I sat at the right corner of the bar. Two whiskey sours on the rocks were positioned on coasters. "I ordered you a drink."

He already drank half of his whiskey sour.

My elbow leaned against the dark brown bar. "Where is she?"

A week has passed since I held a meeting with Hazel, Inc. I gave Min-ho specific instructions in order to locate Sugar. A simple rule: "Find her no matter what!" It didn't matter how just as long as Sugar was in front of me. Talking - well, yelling at me.

Then I'll believe it's her.

Min-ho rolled his eyes.

"What? No, thanks Min-ho?" Min-ho said, and then his voice changed to a deeper octave like my voice, "You know your stuff, Min-ho. How could I ever go on with life without you?"

Min-ho laughed and answered his own question. "No problem, man. What do you think friends are for?"

"Yeah, yeah. Where is she? How did you find her?"

Min-ho raised his hands. "One question at a time."

"You're testing my patience."

"What patience? You've never had it to begin with."

I hesitated.

"You lied, didn't you?"

"I'm hurt that you believe that." Min-ho took another gulp. "She's playing Ms. Pac-Man over there."

I looked over my shoulder. There she was. Her gaze ogled the screen. Shoulders slumped forward, she jerked the joystick. Occasionally, she pressed one of the pink circle buttons.

Her voice.

"No, no! Go away, ghosts!"

The loose strands of hair distracted me. Her soaked jacket and the nasty indigo uniform didn't compliment her body shape.

"How did you find her?" I asked.

Min-ho smirked. "You know the Internet."

I frowned. "Be more specific."

"I created an account for TrueMatch and sent her a message."

I wiped the condensation on my short wide glass.

"That's it?"

"What did you expect? I have no technological knowledge to apply to GPS her location – that's against her privacy. Not to mention, it's unethical. And my connections wouldn't have known her. After a long time, I realized I could make an account and message her."

"She would never message you back," I stated.

I messaged her for a month straight. We had small conversations and she would reply the next day or later. I copied her reaction time so then it didn't appear I was too interested.

"I sent her a message today. And she responded right away."

"No," I put my hand down against the counter.

Min-ho brought out his phone and pulled up his account.

"Why do you keep verifying?"

"She didn't respond to me the day of – not within minutes."

Min-ho finished his drink.

"Fascinating," Min-ho said, and handed me his phone.

His message:

Hi! I was wondering if you would be interested in meeting up. It can be anywhere.

Too formal. No pressure and openness. So Min-ho.

Her response:

I'm heading to Golden Era. I'll see you soon.

What? What is this? This isn't Sugar.

"I told you so."

"I can't believe she was so-"

"Straight forward?" Min-ho asked.

What's your family like, I remembered her asking.

"No, I can't believe she talked with you first."

Min-ho grinned. "Maybe she thought I was more attractive than you."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Will do." Min-ho grinned.

I gulped my whole drink. My throat burned and warmth resided within my belly. My nose flushed into a nice scarlet. I sighed and then proceeded towards Sugar. Min-ho grasped onto my arm.

"Wait – I should meet her first. She's expecting me. You don't want to ambush her."

Logical. Why are my hands clenching then if that makes sense?

"She's busy playing the game. We'll surprise her no matter what," I reasoned.

Her intensity reminded me when she observed the paramedics, nurses, and doctors. Her stoic glance as her lips stayed in a straight line, there were no worry creases on her forehead, and her whole body leaned forward.

"It's best if we're delicate – like she's a doe," Min-ho suggested.

"A doe? Where did you come up with that metaphor?"

"We have to be cautious. We need her on the show – a "character" that offsets you. We need to create a compromise with her. Do you know anything that she's interested in?"

Need? Need?! We do need her.

I finally admitted it. However, an advice kept replying in my brain.

Never let a woman know that you need her. Then you'll appear desperate. And desperation is unattractive, I heard a rough voice say from my memories.

Someone would be left with nothing. Alone with their own feelings and sensations. I had enough experience to validate this advice.

"I'll do the small talk," Min-ho declared, thinking my silence was an answer.

Min-ho slid off the bar stool. Pulling his wallet out, he placed a twenty dollar bill, his smallest, on the counter.

"I'll introduce-"

"I got it."

I nodded. Miscommunication arose. A normal and social aspect, but at this moment I stride over to Ms. Pac-Man. I ignored Min-ho's stricken and frozen reaction. I made a bee-line to Sugar and stood a couple of feet from her.

Min-ho followed and got caught in a small group that shifted over to a new game. He moved left and right to figure out a way around them. His gaze looked around to find another path; another route had two groups clustered, yelling and cheering as a "pro" continued to play Q*bert. I noticed he stayed in his course. The group comfortably took the space; their voices overpowered Min-ho's voice. He crossed his arms. Standing still, Min-ho waited to pass through the group.

Min-ho cursed. "Wait for me, August. We got one shot at this!"

My throat constricted as I moved my mouth. Sugar's hair frizzed all over the place. Wisps stood up around her ears. A desire took a hold on me: to gently press them down, cup her ear, and run my fingers through her hair.

Instead, I leaned forward to her ear. My eyes looked at the screen and back to her.

Ms. Pac-Man's high pitch movement distracted Sugar and the chase. The ghosts tried to capture her. This tiny, yellow circle that could eat and tear apart those untouchable creatures. The tempo increased along with my heartbeat. Before I spoke a word, I blew air into her ear.

"Hello, Lollipop."

I got a pop. Pop to the face.

She squealed and stopped playing.

I placed my hand over my cheek. I gaped – mouth wide open. She slapped me. My chest expanded and exhaled.

"You!"

I laughed.

"A burn and now a slap. What else will you do, Sugar?" I asked, dragging her name. I flashed my dashing, too perfect, smile, white teeth and all.

"August, what the-" Min-ho said. He passed through the small group. He witnessed the exchange.

"What are you doing here?" she declared, "What – how-"

Her eyes darted back and forth between the two.

Her mouth opened but she was quiet. She started mumbling gibberish sounds, until she thought of a coherent sentence.

"Did you say August?" she asked.

I didn't say a word to confirm or deny.

"His name is August Wakefield. He has an alias," Min-ho stated the truth.

Sugar blinked. "What?"

Min-ho opened his mouth but Sugar cut him off.

She shook her head. "No, no. Look, I don't know who you are. I don't want to know if you know," she flailed her arms towards me, "whoever he is."

Min-ho took a step. Pointing to himself, he introduced, "I'm Min-ho. I'm also on TrueMatch. I sent you a message earlier and you responded."

"No," she said, "I didn't receive a message – I have no idea what you're talking-"

Her armor and defensive manner was initiated.

Min-ho presented his cell phone. The direct message page between him and her was displayed. She squinted her eyes as she didn't want to step closer to him. Especially not him that hovered on the left. I stood off on the side as the two responded.

She saw her response.

Her nose scrunched up.

She started to mumble. "I don't think – yeah – that looks familiar."

She pulled out her phone from her coat pocket.

I stayed quiet. I detected the situation.

She knows my name. She didn't react at all, I thought, of course not. She wouldn't have watched the show. It's probably beneath her.

I couldn't decide if this discovery gave me relief or upset me.

Sugar cursed.

Her phone displayed the direct messages.

"I apologize but that message wasn't for you," she replied.

Not for Min-ho. Was another guy supposed to arrive? She found another guy? Someone who answered her questions and matched the qualities on her checklist.

"Are you waiting for your boyfriend?" I broke my silence.

Her face flushed.

"Like that's any of your business. I thought we agreed not to meet up again."

"I'm waiting for you to pay my hospital bills." I brought my hand up to my cheek. I winced. "Now this'll be the second injury. Another hospital bill."

She clicked her tongue.

"You're not getting anything. This is petty and insignificant." Sugar zipped up her jacket. "If that's all you wanted, I'm leaving now."

She headed towards the entrance.

"This isn't about bills or anything small," Min-ho said, truthfully. "I – we – wanted to meet with you and ask you a question."

He stood in front of her. His height off-set her five foot and four inches.

"Why would I listen to someone who lied to me?" she turned back to stare at me, "and a complete stranger that is friends with said liar."

Min-ho didn't answer.

Instead, he smiled. "You're correct. You don't know me and you do know – well – spent time with..."

"Oliver."

"Oliver, yes. Let's all introduce each other. Start fresh."

Sugar rolled her eyes.

I laughed.

"Really, Min-ho? You think she'll agree to a cliché reintroduction? No, she's pretty set in her ways," I stated.

She turned away from Min-ho. She glared at her enemy. Me.

"That's one aspect we'll agree on – thing."

"Thing? I'm not a thing!" I frowned.

"I don't know who you are. Oliver, August, whoever! Like I said, I don't give a crap. We agreed to not meet again. You told me to 'get out.' Now it's my time."

Min-ho gaped between us.

I bit my lip.

I don't regret saying that. I wanted her to go away. What should I do?

Usually, my go-to for making up to a woman as to sleep with. I would cater to their needs and wants. I showed them how much I "regretted" what I said or did. Even though I didn't want to dive under the surface than physical needs and silly general questions about work, family, and friends. In the end, I got what I desired. Another warm body before I left them.

She walked away.

Min-ho stood off on the side. I watched as she didn't look back.

"You need tension in this documentary."

"Are you willing to allow transition to happen?"

This will be a hit. I need the money.

I recalled a soft voice: "You're a true star. You'll win for certain."

Those were lies. I'm not losing another chance.

I caught up with Sugar. I stood in front of her.

"I'm sorry."

Those caramel eyes had widened.

"I'm sorry for what I said on our first date. I'm sorry for my-" I tried to think of a good adjective, "provocative statement. I didn't mean it."

Sugar shook her head. "You meant every word. If you didn't mean it, you wouldn't have said it."

"I was putting up a front."

"How do I know if you're lying or not now?" Her arms crossed in front of her chest.

I was going to counter, but Min-ho stepped in. "He never apologizes. This is the first time I've heard him saying those words."

Sugar looked at Min-ho.

She mumbled, "I can believe that." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, too. I don't trust you."

"Let me explain-" Min-ho tried to say.

"I'm going home." Sugar turned to leave.

"Wait, please, let us tell you, it's nothing about dating, well not dating per say," Min-ho continued to ramble on.

I ignored them. Crossing over to the bar, I left them alone.

Sugar walked out the door; Min-ho followed behind her.

I could imagine Min-ho explaining the documentary idea and asking her to call them. He might throw in certain figures if she was interested in money.

There was a yell.

Sugar probably didn't care about the money.

Min-ho came back in. The bouncer guided him.

"We're cool," Min-ho explained.

The bouncer nodded and left.

"We're screwed," I announced.

Min-ho hugged me.

"Don't give up hope. She took my business card," Min-ho said.

"How did you do that?"

"I kept talking and talking. She took it so I would shut up." Min-ho laughed.

"How is that hope? She won't call."

"I think she will."

"Why?"