May 31
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from Canada
seen from Türkiye
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
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seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
Belarus: Don't worry. I've got a few knives up my sleeve.
Liechtenstein: Did you mean "tricks?"
Taiwan: She did not.
Belarus, pulling several knives out of her jacket: I did not.
Taiwan, about kissing Belarus: Somebody's gotta do it
Hong Kong: Literally nobody has to do it
Taiwan: Somebody's gotta do it man
Taiwan: Hello, Nat.
Belarus:
Taiwan: So, you may be wondering why I'm taped to the ceiling.
Summit
An unexpected windfall gives Harald and Leon’s engagement the green light, and all is well. [A continuation of this.] [Oh my goodness this is literally over two weeks late for @aphasiaweek day seven thanks for y’all’s patience]
“What the hell?” Leon demands. He doesn’t get up from Harald’s embrace, nor does he put the ring away. “What compelled you to interrupt our special moment? I was going to kiss Harald and give him the ring and it was going to be so gay, then you showed up and ruined everything!”
“I’ll gladly ruin your engagement, which should’ve never happened in the first place!” Yao places his hands on his hips. “How can you ask for Harald’s hand in marriage without even telling me?”
He scowls. “I’m twenty-six years old, Yao! I can make my own decisions. How did you even find out I was going to propose to him?”
“Ella told me."
“Of course she fucking did,” Leon mutters.
“At least, she told me you two disappeared and I connected the dots. I see that ring of yours, Ka Long. Put it away.”
He inches the ring closer to Harald and gives him a loud kiss on the cheek. “Why are you so against me marrying Harald?”
Yao marches closer to them, giving them the stink-eye. “Because,” he says slowly, as though talking to a kindergartener, “he doesn’t come from a good family.”
“Oh my goodness!” Leon throws his hands into the air. “Why are you so insistent on me seeing someone ‘from the right family’? Do you want my husband to be some stuffy noble with fifteen middle names?”
“That would be better than marrying him! His family is that of peasants.”
“Don’t talk about my family like that!” Harald bursts out. Rage, almost irrational in its intensity, flares through him and he pushes his boyfriend away to stand up. “I’m sorry Stellan and I aren’t filthy-rich enough for you, okay? But just because I’m not a millionaire doesn’t mean I’m not good enough for Leon.”
“Aiyah, our family’s reputation will be in shambles if you two actually get married!” Yao paces around. “Ka Long, keep Mister Yacht-less - “
“Enough about the yachts, for fuck’s sake!”
“KEEP MISTER YACHT-LESS AS YOUR SIDE HOE,” he continues loudly, “and marry someone respectable! You wouldn’t be the first person in Hong Kong high society to do so. That people can accept.”
Harald clenches his fists. “I’m not going to be reduced to Leon’s whore!"
“Not his whore, his side hoe,” Yao corrects. “There’s a difference.”
“Yeah, like that’s the most important thing about this conversation.” His voice grows louder by the second, and he can feel his face heating up. “It’s not like you’re suggesting I’m some common gold-digger who’s only with Leon for his money - “
His phone rings.
All three of them freeze. Leon stares at Harald’s pocket, where his phone is. “Did you forget to put your phone on silent mode?”
“I guess?”
Yao harrumphs. “You didn’t put your phone on silent mode while dining at the Peninsula?”
“Shut up.” Harald takes his phone out and accepts the call. “Hello?”
“I know you’re probably having a special moment with Leon right now, but you have to hear this,” Stellan whispers breathlessly. “I just got pulled out of a banquet from my publisher, who called to tell me something.”
“Tell you what?”
“I still can’t believe this is happening, oh my goodness. She told me that a film company’s planning to adapt one of my books into a movie.”
“Really?” He exclaims in disbelief. “That’s amazing! When do you think it’ll be out?”
“A couple years from now, at the very least. The one they picked is the most popular book I’ve published, and...” he hesitates. “And the deal I just struck has gotten me seventy million Euros.”
“What!?”
“Yes, seventy million Euros. Most of it is going to charity, but I’m keeping a bit to finally build Roesslyng and Daisy a hutch.”
Of course his brother will be spending most of his biggest deal on his rabbits. Trying to stifle a grin, Harald says, “well, they’re sure to thank you for that. Congratulations, Stell!”
Stellan hangs up, leaving Harald to deal with Yao once again. “Who called?”
“My brother just told me he got a movie deal for one of his books, that’s all.” He looks Yao directly in the eye and smiles. “He just got seventy million Euros richer.”
Yao stumbles back as though punched in the stomach. “Wait, how much?”
...
(A few months later...)
W Hotel, London
“Apparently, the only reason Yao let Leon and I marry is because my brother suddenly struck gold.” Harald says, placing a perfectly-wrapped xiao long bao onto a bamboo basket with more force than necessary. “My brother, not me. Doesn’t he know that I’m the youngest-ever winner of the Escoffier Chef Award, and the Dragon Room got into the Pepin’s 100 Best Restaurants list just a year after I became head chef?”
Roland de Vries (who was pushed by his brother to apply for a job at the Dragon Room once Stellan’s windfall became public) gently closes the lid of the basket and whisks it off, then places a new, empty on in its place. “I suppose not.”
“Well, at least he didn’t oppose us getting together any more after that.” He wraps another xiao long bao, fingers swiftly pleating the edges of the dough around the chunks of minced pork and congealed broth. “Leon’s doing most of the planning for the wedding, and I made him promise not to do anything too crazy.”
“Define ‘crazy’.”
“’Crazy’ is Vicente and Madeline’s wedding. I’m pretty sure it cost more than all twenty-six years of my brother’s and my schooling combined!” The next basket of dumplings is done in under a minute and he passes it to Roland. “Go check on the steamers for me, won’t you? You know how weird the sun choi can get.”
Once Roland bustles away, Harald busies himself with the next basket of xiao long bao (a bunch of Instagram foodies showed up and ordered six baskets) and squints through the tiny window at the kitchen doors into the main restaurant. They’re especially busy today, with every table occupied and a long waiting list. A waiter rushes in, glancing around nervously. He stands frozen for a few moments before running to his station. “Grieg, table three wants to talk to you.”
“Tell them I have four baskets of xiao long bao, two baskets of vegetable buns, five plates of curry squid and two dishes of tofu to finish in the next twenty minutes, as well as two interns to manage because I have a hard time believing they know what they’re doing.” He slides Roland another basket. “In other words, I don’t have time for a conversation.”
The waiter walks back out. Harald gets back to working, but he feels a tap on the shoulder a few minutes later. “What is it?” He half-snaps.
“The table’s done, but they say they’re not going to leave until you go to talk to them.”
He sighs. “Give me a moment.”
Once a pair of chefs are ready to fill in his work, he sweeps out of the kitchen and towards table three, ready to give them a piece of his mind. It’s rush hour, dammit, and he doesn’t have the time to entertain every enthusiastic diner.
Then he sees who’s sitting at the table.
Ling winks at him. “See, I told you he’d show up.”
“I’m busy. Why couldn’t you have waited until I got off work?”
“We have to seize the moment, you know?” She takes a sip from the cup of oolong tea in front of her. “We’re here right after pulling Leon out of some meeting.”
“You should’ve seen his face when we ran into the conference room, chased by three secretaries,” Vicente quips.
“What are you guys doing here, anyway?”
Natalia pulls a magazine from her bag and tosses it onto the red-clothed table. “The Teahouse wasted no time in pouncing on your and Leon’s engagement. Just look at this cover story.”
England’s biggest gossip column has plastered one of the many engagement photos Yao insisted he and Leon take on their cover, and the caption, ‘One Wedding After Another - The Darjeeling on The Second Wang Pairing’ is splashed on in matcha-green print. He picks up the magazine and opens it.
‘It seems that the billionaire Wang family of Hong Kong is in a hurry to have their two youngest brothers married off,’ the first paragraph reads, ‘for on the evening of the marriage of Vicente Wang and Madeline Bonnefoy, Wang’s younger brother Leon publicly announced his engagement with his boyfriend of three years, Harald Grieg. Most who enjoy keeping up with the lives of the world’s top percent may ask when they hear this name, who? While Grieg may not be on the level of extravagance as his boyfriend’s family, he makes up for his lack of wealth in many things - he’s head chef at Michelin restaurant the Dragon Room, has won awards for his culinary talent, and is brother to award-winning author Stellan Grieg. And who could forget his roguish good looks?’
Harald squints at the last line, repeating, “who could forget my what?”
Madeline smirks. “Well, that’s one thing they got wrong.”
“There’s a paragraph that talks about how he ‘charmed his way into gaining Yao’s approval’ down there, which is probably the most glaring inaccuracy in the article.” Natalia grabs the magazine back and flips to another photo. This one is of him and Leon together in the kitchen of the Dragon Room. “They call you ‘the power couple of W Hotel’.”
He glances back at the kitchen, where the orders are most definitely piling up. “Okay, that’s stupid, sure, but is that all you called me out for? To look at a magazine?”
“We might have also bribed the waiter,” Vicente mutters.
He rubs his temples. “Why am I not surprised?”
“See,” Ling sniggers, “you’re a natural at this crazy rich thing. Now that you’re desensitised to us pulling this kind of stuff, nothing will surprise you any more.”
“I think I lost the ability to care after I realised how much Leon offered to pay Berwald for designing the decorations for the ceremony and the event.”
“How much?”
“Ten million Euros.” Magically there, Leon strides towards their table and pushes his brother half-off his chair, squashing himself into the seat. He drawls, “I insisted, even though Berwald didn’t wait to be paid that much. He put most of it into his son’s college fund, though, so I don’t think he objected that much.”
Vicente taps him lightly on the head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?”
“I let everyone off early because I knew you’d be marching down here in search of Harald. You four are so predictable, you know.”
“You need to get back to work,” he lectures. After making sure none of the waiters are looking, he swoops down to kiss his fiancé on the cheek. “And so do I. Come on, let’s go.”
Leon gives him puppy-dog eyes.
“Ugh, fine.” He lets himself be pulled onto the chair, seated snugly on Leon’s lap. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“If they’re this sickening now, can you imagine how they’ll be like after tying the knot?” Madeline asks, rolling her eyes.
“Shut up, don’t act like you two weren’t disgustingly cute the moment you got together,” Natalia jabs.
“Right, right.” She winks at Harald. “You preparing for the wedding night yet?”
“Oh good, she learned the Asian culture of being overly-interested in your relatives’ sex life,” Ling groans.
“Says Mrs. My-Wedding-Night-Involved-Lots-Of-Stepping-On-Nat-Because-I’m-A-Toesucker. Seriously, I think the entire continent knows about you-know-what.”
She turns tomato-red, exclaiming nearly loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear, “I don’t have a foot fetish, I - “
“Sure.”
“I DON’T!”
A few people from nearby tables turn around to look at them. Harald half-falls off of Leon, face burning. He really should be back in the kitchen.
When he looks up, he notices that Leon is blushing just as hard as him. “Uh,” he stutters very intelligently, “maybe we should get back to work.”
“Mmhmm.”
The two of them stand up awkwardly. Leon saunters out of the restaurant, head held high even though his cheeks are bright red. Weaving around waiters and overzealous Instagrammers, Harald returns to the kitchen. Midway, he looks back at the four diners, packing up to leave. They smile at him, and he smiles back.
“See you at the wedding,” he mouths.
Seaside
Gossip, unexpected guests, and most importantly, marriage. [A continuation of this.] [A very late day five entry to @aphasiaweek with the prompt of “festival” - a wedding isn’t really a festival but, like, whatever]
Auberge Discovery Bay, Hong Kong
In the dressing room, Madeline is losing her shit.
“This is happening,” she mutters to herself. “This is happening, whether we like it or not, but of course we like it because why would we be getting married otherwise? Vic is going to look great, I am going to look great and everything is going to be fine.”
Hoisting up her wedding dress, her maid of honour asks, “are you done?” Eva de Vries’s (co-founder of De Vries Chocolate, of course) arms look about ten seconds away from giving in and sending the two-million-dollar gown, five-carat diamond neckline and all, crashing to the ground.
Madeline rubs her temples. “I’m done. I’m fine. May I have my dress?”
Eva hands it over dutifully. She, along with the other bridesmaids, are already dressed in their gowns. The stunning sea-foam white chiffon dresses, with a rippling bodice and sleeves that resemble softly-rolling waves, are stunning, though not stunning enough to outshine the bride. Fashion critics have written whole articles on Madeline’s wedding gown, with its thousand-dollar neckline, mother-of-pearl waistline and an entirely hand-woven skirt.
Always eager to please, Erika (sister of famous watchmaker Basch Zwingli) flurries over to help Madeline zip up her dress. “You’re going to do fine,” she reassures. “Take deep breaths and smile.”
She exhales, staring into the mirror while doing her hair. “I can’t believe this is finally happening.”
“Neither can any of us,” Erzsébet Hédérváry (possibly the best percussionist the Viennese Philharmonic has seen) cracks. “Remember all those years ago when we thought you two would crash and burn?”
Still in the process of lacing up her elaborate hairdo, Natalia snorts derisively. “They’re so disgustingly romantic I don’t think their marriage will ever go bad.” She stands up, hands swiftly moving through her hair. “A hundred Euros that Vicente’s going to cry.”
Her girlfriend raises her head lazily. “Make it five hundred.”
“That’s too much.”
“Two hundred fifty. Final offer.” Ling joins her side and pecks her on the cheek.
“Ugh.” Natalia finishes her hairdo, grumbling, “you’re lucky I love you.”
Madeline rolls her eyes good-naturedly. All her nerves seem to have faded away, and now, resplendent in her gown, a silver diadem braided into her hair and her makeup impeccable, paints the image of a perfect bride. “Are you two really making bets on my soon-to-be husband?”
“Fifty Euros that you’re going to cry,” Erzsébet says.
Eva grins. “Sold.”
...
“Move it to the left. No, wait, a bit more to the right. Bring it a bit further back. To the left again.”
Leon hefts the pot, holding a small wisteria tree, up for the fourth time. “For fuck’s sake, make up your mind already.”
“Well, I’m sorry the pot is weird.” Vicente clutches his head. He looks pale. “Yes, that’s just right. This way the branches will form a sort of arch over us.”
On the other end of the chapel, Kiku Sugihara (heir of Sugihara Publishing) straightens the cream-coloured carpet and sighs. “How much longer until the guests arrive?”
“Ten minutes, so we better hurry.” He points at Harald, busy tying ribbons and bouquets at the ends of each pew. “How many do you have left?”
“Five, I think,” Harald calls back. His fingers are starting to feel bruised. “What else do we need to do?”
Vicente absent-mindedly dusts off the front pew, where he and Leon will be sitting. “Nothing, really. I think the after-ceremony lunch is all organised, this place looks okay and no scandals have broken out yet. All that’s left is the mental preparation.”
“Having cold feet?” Harald asks.
“No, I just...” he sits down, letting the other three men crowd around him. “After this, I’m going to get to call Madeline my wife, and I can wear a wedding ring, and oh my goodness, it’s going to be amazing.”
“He is so going to cry,” Kiku mutters to Leon.
News reporters are shouting outside the chapel, and among their incoherent sentences, Harald can make out a few questions. “Oh boy, I think the first guests are showing up.”
As though on cue, Yao and another man burst into the chapel, deep in conversation. Vicente dives behind his pew to hide.
“He owns two houses, not a single mansion, and a motorboat like some common fisherman — “ Yao stops in his tracks when he sees Harald. “Oh, I see you’ve arrived early to help with the preparations! Very nice of you.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Yao steps aside and gestures to the man behind him. “This is Francis Bonnefoy, CEO of Bonnefoy Hotels.”
His face lights up. “Oh! I’ve worked at one of Mr. Bonnefoy’s hotels right out of culinary school. The one in Sweden, to be exact.”
“You let this rube into your hotel?” Yao hisses.
Francis pushes him back and forces a smile. “Yes, I think I remember you!”
“Really? I was just a line cook there, I didn’t expect you to notice me, let alone remember me.”
His smile wavers slightly. “Well, I saw your, er, skill, and simply could not forget it. You have come so far since then!”
Harald tries to smile despite the fact that he literally just heard Yao call him a rube. “Thanks,” he says again.
“The chapel looks beautiful,” Francis remarks. “It feels like just yesterday I was dragging Madeline to primary school. I can’t believe she’s finally getting married.”
“I know, right?” Yao strides down the aisle while the usher runs after him and tries to get him to sit in his assigned seat. “They grow so quickly.”
The door opens again, and in come a pair of teenagers. The redheaded one is dominating the conversation, chattering on about what sounds like a drawing platform. “Medibang sucks! We should start using those Adobe stuff, it’s not like we can’t afford it. My father uses Adobe to design all his buildings, I bet that’s why they turn out gr - “ He bumps into Harald.
“Er, hi.”
The boy draws himself up to his full height of about a hundred and forty-five centimetres and announces, “we’re here for the wedding. My name is Niklas Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen, and this is Jo Edelstein.”
It takes about twenty seconds of expectant staring for Harald to realise that this Niklas kid mistook him for the usher. Does he really look that common among these other millionaires? “Well...”
“Jo!” A man rushes into the chapel and gathers the kid next to Niklas into his arms. “I told you to wait for me and Nik’s fathers, that way you wouldn’t get lost. What if you’d gotten into the wrong chapel?”
“What wrong chapel?” Jo mutters. “This is the only chapel in, like, a million-metre radius.”
“Don’t you give me cheek, we need to be polite today.” He crosses his arms indignantly. “The sister of my very good friend is getting married. Now, let’s wait for Nik’s fathers, all right?”
Jo, pouting and miffed, lets the man lead him back to Niklas.
The aforementioned fathers enter the chapel a few moments later, both of them dressed to the nines in designer suits. They don’t really catch Harald’s attention until he sees the couple that follows them in. His jaw drops. “Stell?”
His older brother, looking thoroughly awkward in his suit, stares back at him. “Well, hello.”
“Don’t ‘hello’ me, why are you here?” Harald gestures to his brother-in-law, who’s grinning at him. “Why is Henrik here?”
“Right, so it’s kind of a long story, but basically Berwald, that guy over there - “ Henrik points to the taller of Niklas’ fathers - “had a deal with a brand I was modelling for where they’d hold a photo-shoot at the new building he helped design or something. And he and his husband decided to bring us here because why the hell not and because their son is friends with a kid whose father is friends with the guy whose brother is getting married today.”
“I was unaware that you’d be going to the same wedding.” Stellan rubs his temples. “You mean to tell me that Leon’s brother is getting married in a place like this?”
“Apparently,” Harald says. “His family is a lot more, er, comfortable than I thought, that’s for sure. We really need to sit down together after the ceremony.” He suddenly feels a grip on his arm and is pulled away roughly to face a wide-eyed Yao. “I’m sorry, were you trying to tell me something?”
“You’re telling me that Henrik Dansen is your brother-in-law?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Francis chimes in, “isn’t he like Denmark’s Top Model or something?”
“He earns millions, and he’s nowhere near retirement!” Yao half-shouts. “Tell your brother congratulations for me.”
Harald blinks. “They’ve already been married for seven years, but sure.”
The reporters outside are getting louder. The loudest seems to be drafting their article, listing out, “the Bonnefoy-Wang wedding will be attended by some of the world’s richest and most famous, including K-Pop sensation Yong-Soo Im, real-estate goddess Gabriella Sabularse and Lord Arthur Kirkland, Earl of Leicester. Stay tuned for more on this event’s most interesting guests!”
The crowd at the entrance of the chapel is growing by the second, and the poor panicking usher begins pushing them to sit down in the pews. Harald finds himself pushed down next to Berwald and his husband, both of whom are looking expectantly at the altar. “The Edelsteins are friends with quite some people, aren’t they?” His husband says. “This looks grander than the royal wedding!”
Berwald shrugs. “I could do better.”
“Oh, I’m sure you could, Berwald ‘I close my eyes and think and suddenly the next Sistine Chapel is on my blueprint’ Oxenstierna.” He laughs. “Niklas has certainly made the strangest school friends.”
“Mmhmm.”
The chapel falls silent as the officiant enters and the ceremony begins.
...
“You know how tedious Yao gets with his speeches,” Leon mutters, fifteen minutes into the ceremony. “Why did you let him talk?”
“Filial piety, respect for my elders, et cetera et cetera.” Vicente wrings his hands. “Without Mother and Father here he’s the only one socially accepted to give the opening speech.”
Five more minutes of droning later, their older brother finally takes his seat, and Francis bounds up to speak. Thankfully, his dramatics manage to wake up most of the guests - probably the only time they’ll be useful. Leon pinches himself to keep his eyes from drooping.
Once Francis’ speech (far shorter, to everyone’s relief) is finished, the officiant gestures for the groom to stand at the altar. Taking a loud, deep breath, Vicente rises and takes his position. Leon follows.
From his spot, he has full view of all the wedding guests — of Kiku and Ella doing their best to look interested, of celebrities showing off the best parts of their outfits, and, towards the back, Harald. Their eyes meet, and Harald smiles at him. One day, it’ll be the two of them standing at an altar.
Then it’s time for the bride to enter. First come the four bridesmaids, dressed in plain white dresses that flutter in the wind. In the pews, little Jo waves to their mother, who reaches halfway down the aisle before Madeline enters.
There’s no denying that she’s stunning. The neckline of her dress is laden with diamonds, each one of them winking and flashing in the sunlight. The waistline is equally shiny, gleaming almost as brightly as the sun itself. Unlike most wedding dresses, hers doesn’t have a train, and her white slippers poke out from beneath the hem of the many-layered, cloud-like skirt.
Next to Leon, Vicente lets out a soft sigh. His shoulders relax.
Leon barely listens to the vows that the two of them exchange, seeing only how their faces are awash with happiness. His brother looks close to tears, a trembly smile coming across his face when he finally says, in front of the entire chapel, “I do.”
The officiant waits until Vicente and Madeline have put their rings on to proclaim, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Taiwan, peeking under the blanket: Nat? are you ready to come out and interact with other people?
Belarus: (UNHOLY SCREECHING)
Taiwan: Understandable, have a great day.
Belarus: This is my ex-girlfriend, Yue Ling.
Taiwan: You need to stop introducing me like that.
Taiwan: I'm her wife.