Chapter Text
Rumi eyed the building in front of her critically.
She had just moved to Westhaven and Golden Fitness was the best rated gym within 2 miles of her house. It looked good; a nondescript warehouse-style building with minimal branding. Not too many windows. Rumi hated those gyms that were all windows, everyone on display to passersby as if they were saying ‘look at me. Aren’t I amazing for being in here while you’re out there?’
Rumi went in and the woman at the reception desk smiled at her.
“Hi there!” she said brightly.
“Hi,” Rumi replied. “I signed up online and it said I should pop in during business hours to get the 24/7 access tag?”
“Oh welcome!” the woman said. “I’m Audrey. Can I get your full name please?”
“Rumi Kang.”
“Perfect!” Audrey replied, clacking away on her computer.
She scanned a small white keychain tag on the security scanner in front of her before holding it out to Rumi.
“This is your key tag. The front door is locked when the desk isn’t staff so you’ll need this to get in. Do you have any questions?”
“No I’m good. Thank you.”
“Welcome to Golden Fitness, Rumi!”
Rumi gave the woman a small smile before awkwardly waving her hand and leaving. She was a late night workout person so she headed home to make dinner and change before her first workout.
The house was small; cozy. Rumi entered from the garage through a small door that was attached to the hallway. Her bedroom was the first door on the left, the generous bathroom directly across from it on the right. She went into the bedroom to change into sweats. Her bed was huge; a splurge she’d allowed herself as a house warming present. Heading down the hall to the lounge, another bedroom opened up next to the bathroom - smaller (Rumi used it as an office) - and then the hallway widened out into the lounge/kitchen/dining area. The kitchen was generous. Two bay windows looked out over a small garden. It was light and airy and perfect for Rumi. She’d fallen in love with it the minute she stepped in for the viewing and had paid slightly above market to secure it. It was worth every cent. Her job was stressful but slipping her shoes off in the garage and padding into the lounge felt like shedding the worries of the day and stepping into her own private oasis.
She got to the kitchen and started mechanically putting a meal together. She loved her own space but this was the part that bothered about living alone. Something about cooking by herself got to her in a way that other parts of her solitary existence didn’t. Most of the time, she ate simple meals (ramyun with a boiled egg was on the menu more than she cared to admit).
Tonight though she did chicken, broccoli and rice with Physical 100 to take the edge off the silence. She pulled up a local animal shelter on her phone, browsing the cats that were available for adoption. None of them took her fancy so she switched to Instagram and scrolled aimlessly. First child, marriage, engagement, engagement, second child, another marriage. All of her friends - from the expensive Ivy-prep primary school in downtown New York City, from her private boarding school upstate, from Princeton undergrad and from Yale law - were ticking off milestones.
Rumi, on the other hand, had yet to have a serious relationship. She always felt like she was missing something that made her look at the men on the screen or on the street or even (god forbid) in the office at work with anything other than mild interest at best. It was more the way someone looked at a fascinating exhibit at a museum than a potential partner.
She finished the episode she was watching and then cleaned up the kitchen; neatly stacking the dishes in the dishwasher, wiping the benches, resetting. Then she got changed and, by 9pm, she was at the gym.
There were only two other people there. One was a teenager that was flopping around on the pull up bar like a salmon caught on a line. Rumi resisted the urge to wince at his form, thinking about how sore he’d be in all the wrong places tomorrow.
She switched instead to sizing up the other gym goer. She was a tall angular woman with legs for days and hair dyed the colour of candy floss. Rumi was surprised to find that she thought it looked almost regal on this woman where, on others, she may have found it garish. She was jogging on one of the treadmills in a functional singlet and black compression pants.
Rumi had always had trouble feeling what she was meant to while looking at men but, with women, attraction came as easily as breathing. It didn’t feel wrong but it felt complicated and messy. Rumi hated messy. Messy things went in a box along with confusing things, inconvenient things, and, most importantly, uncomfortable things.
So, when Rumi’s eyes lingered on the tall woman with the pink hair longer than was polite and the woman’s eyes snapped up, catching her looking, Rumi felt her face heat up. She looked away quickly and shoved ‘feelings about gorgeous tall pink-haired woman at the gym’ in the box with ‘being caught staring at a stranger by said stranger.’
Rumi focused on her own workout - warm up then on to the dumbbell rack. She was acutely aware of the tall woman and the way they seemed to orbit each other as they worked out. At some point, the teenager left so it was just the two of them. Rumi thought she could feel the other woman’s eyes on her when she wasn’t looking but maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Eventually, the other woman finished her workout and packed up to leave. As she headed down the steps to the door, she paused at the top and threw a very intentional if only small smirk her way.
It became a ritual; Rumi and the woman with the pink hair circling each other during their evening workouts. They watched each other move and then pretended they weren’t watching when they got caught looking. The thread between them was tenuous and neither of them crossed the boundary they’d somehow created without speaking. They sweated, they watched, and they pretended it wasn’t a dance they were doing.
Then one day, the woman with the pink hair wasn’t there. A day turned into two and then it was a week and then three. Rumi kept going at the same time anyway, mostly to keep up her preferred routine but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping that the woman with the pink hair would start showing up again.
Without the distraction of a pretty woman watching her work out, Rumi had time to think on other things. She came to two conclusions. First, she needed a cat. Her house was too quiet and something warm occupying her space with her would be a welcome comfort.
Second, she needed to widen her social world and interact with people besides her colleagues and the cashier at the grocery store she frequented. She brainstormed ways to meet different people - book club (too serious), sports teams (too competitive), sewing groups (too domestic). She settled on volunteering as a good solution.
*
“Where are you thinking of volunteering?”
Jinu was one of the other associates at the law firm where Rumi worked. He was a tall man with carefully styled black hair and a confident smirk. He specialised in corporate crimes; a show pony if she’d ever seen one. She, on the other hand, specialised in patents and trademark law; unglamorous, sure, but mentally stimulating. Best of all, she didn’t have to kiss ass in the way the other specialties did. Rumi had been brought on by Saja & Sons to help diversify their areas of specialisations and hopefully assist in acquiring more high end clients.
She and Jinu had clicked on her first day. She was initially put off by his cock walk but he’d offered to show her the good lunch spots and lord knows decent food was the fastest way into her good graces. They’d had lunch and she’d found herself laughing and enjoying his company in a way that was rare for her. Now, a month and a half into her time in Westhaven, they had a standing lunch date and Rumi would go so far as to consider him a friend.
She shrugged in answer to his question. “No idea. Somewhere that isn’t exclusively inhabited by old ladies?”
“What do you have against old ladies?”
“I just get tired of being asked why I haven’t settled down with a handsome young man and started having his babies.”
“What do you have against handsome young men?” Jinu said, flashing her a grin.
“What - I -” Rumi spluttered but Jinu just laughed.
“I’m messing with you,” he said, not unkindly. “Now back to volunteering: RSPCA?”
“I will end up with 12,000 cats.”
Jinu grimaced but asked, “Is that a bad thing?”
“I’m also deathly afraid of horses.”
“Horses?”
“Yeah horses. Big things, four legs, hammers attached to their feet, and the worst brain to brawn ratio of any domesticated animal.”
“I know what a horse is!” Jinu said, voice going high pitched with outrage.
“I mean it just seemed like you were a little confused -”
“Why are you scared of horses?”
“Does it matter?” Rumi asked. “My point is the RSPCA probably isn’t a good fit. Next.”
“Fine. Hospice?”
“My mental health says no.”
“Driving old people around?”
“How is that meeting people?”
“Firefighting?”
“No.”
“Theater?”
Rumi didn’t even grace that one with an answer.
Jinu drummed his fingers on the table, thinking. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers at her. “Girl guides!”
Rumi pondered it. Uplifting work, talking to not just a bunch of kids but also their parents and caregivers. Plenty of different people. Something totally different to her work. Evening commitment so it fits around her work schedule. Variety; camping trips, outings, trainings.
“That’s actually a really good idea. Thanks Jinu.”
“I’m amazing, I know.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
*
That night, she filled out the interest form for becoming a girl guiding leader. It only took a couple of days from there for the regional coordinator to contact her. After a quick phone interview and a couple of weeks waiting for a police check to come back, she got a text from the leader she’d been paired up with.
Hi! This is Zoey, your new co-leader for Girl Guides!!! 😁😁😁 Want to meet for coffee this week before you meet all the girls on Friday? 👯
Rumi wasn’t aware anyone still used emojis.
Hi Zoey! Coffee sounds great. I work in town so, if you do too, could we meet on our lunch breaks?
The reply came through quickly.
Perf! 👍 I’m on Main St so should be far off you. There’s only like two streets anyway 😁 I’ll meet you at Richie’s at 12pm! Woohooo!!!!! 🥳🤠☕ Can’t wait to meet you!
*
Zoey hadn’t arrived yet when Rumi sat down in Richie’s, having texted that she was running a bit late and could Rumi order her a triple shot mocha pretty please? Rumi put in both their orders and was clearing emails on her phone when a singsong voice made her look up.
“Hi!!!”
Rumi looked up to see the cutest woman she’d ever seen absolutely beaming at her. She was short and wearing a brightly coloured knitted sweater with a pair of black jeans and functional boots. Her black hair was tied back in space buns with a small fringe over her forehead. Her eyes were what really drew Rumi in; a gorgeous deep brown and shining with warmth. Her eyes sparkled with the smile that lit up her whole face.
“Hi,” Rumi said, a little dumbly.
“You must be Rumi,” Zoey gushed and, to Rumi’s surprise, wrapped her in a half hug.
“Yeah. Zoey I assume?”
“That’s me! Soooo sorry to keep you waiting. There was this case report I just had to get finished and then, one foot out the door, one of my families turns up out of the blue! They all have my phone number but do you think that makes the slightest bit of difference? And they came in on their lunch breaks - they’re both shift workers - so I really couldn’t just say not now I’m busy! And then! My manager started quizzing me on my case report as I was quite literally walking out the door and I -” she cut herself off as the waitress dropped off their coffees. “Oh thank god! Caffeine can cure me.”
Rumi found herself smiling slightly as Zoey rambled.
“What do you do for work?” she asked while Zoey took a sip of coffee.
“I’m a social worker,” Zoey answered. “I work with families getting dragged through this farce that we call a system to try and get better outcomes for some of them, particularly for the kids.”
“Noble work,” Rumi said, impressed.
Zoey’s cheeks went pink and she looked down into her mug. “It’s fulfilling.”
She took another sip of her coffee before asking,
“What about you?”
“Oh I’m a lawyer,” Rumi said. “Intellectual property law.”
Zoey gave a low whistle. “Smart cookie! You look way too cool to be a boring corporate lawyer type. I love your hair by the way; so pretty with the purple and the braid.”
It was Rumi’s turn to go red as she fiddled with her braid self-consciously.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one,” Zoey grinned before bouncing up and down in her seat excitedly. “I’m so excited to have you as my co-leader! The last lady was a retiree and had some very old fashioned approaches to discipline. I ended up having to ask the coordinator to get rid of her!”
Zoey gasped. “Oh no you don’t believe in corporal punishment do you?”
Rumi almost laughed but instead just shook her head.
“Excellent! Already my favourite co-leader by far!”
They chatted for a bit longer - mostly semantics about the next session - before Zoey glanced at her watch (it took Rumi a moment to catch that it was a Gudetama watch). She shot to her feet.
“Damn! House visit at 1! Gotta run!”
She threw Rumi a huge grin, dimples on full display. “See you Friday, partner!”
With that, she was gone.
Rumi blinked, amused and a little overwhelmed, the image of Zoey’s dimples sticking in her head.
When she got to the gym that night, the tall woman with the pink hair was there working out as though she had never left at all.
They made eye contact and Rumi grinned at her without thinking like they were old friends reunited.
Before she had time to feel self-conscious about it, the tall woman smiled back.