Gene woke up Saturday with a headache that felt like punishment for something he couldn't quite name.
He'd slept in his dress shirt—now wrinkled beyond saving—and his mouth tasted like regret and cheap wine. Sunlight stabbed through his curtains accusingly. His phone showed 11:47 AM and a stack of messages he didn't want to face yet.
Lin Yue: *You disappeared without saying goodbye! Rude.*
Lin Yue: *But also you looked miserable all night so I'm giving you a pass*
Lin Yue: *Call me when you're alive. We need to talk.*
Steven: *Left some files in your email. No rush, Monday is fine*
Mei: *Coffee this week? I have thoughts and you looked like you needed an escape route last night*
And one from a number he didn't recognize: *Hi Gene, this is Diana. Steven gave me your number (hope that's okay). Would love to grab lunch while I'm still in town if you're free? No pressure.*
Gene stared at that last message for a full minute, his headache getting worse.
Diana wanted lunch. With him. Why?
He dragged himself into the shower and let scalding water beat against his skull while he tried to piece together the previous night. The party. Steven's hand on Diana's back as he introduced her. That green dress. The way Diana had laughed at something Steven said, easy and comfortable, like they already had their own private language. The tightness in Gene's chest that he'd spent the whole night pretending wasn't there.
He turned the water hotter, like he could burn away whatever he was feeling.
When he emerged twenty minutes later—skin pink, still confused—he texted Diana back: *Hey! Sure, lunch sounds good. Where/when?*
Her response was immediate: *There's a place in Zhongshan District Steven loves. 1 PM? I'll send the address*
Gene checked the time. 12:15. Forty-five minutes to make himself presentable and figure out what the hell this lunch was actually about.
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The restaurant was tucked between a bookstore and a tea shop, the kind of place that looked unassuming but probably had a months-long waitlist. Diana was already there when he arrived, sitting at a corner table by the window, sunlight catching in her sleek black hair. She'd traded last night's emerald dress for white linen pants and a silk blouse that probably cost more than Gene's entire outfit.
"Gene!" She stood, smiled warmly. Her perfume was subtle, expensive. "Thanks for coming on such short notice. I fly back to Singapore tonight and wanted to meet you properly before I left."
They ordered—soup dumplings, beef noodles, fried rice that the menu described with almost religious reverence. Too much food, but somehow it felt right.
"So," Diana said, settling back in her chair with the kind of ease that came from being comfortable in any room. "How are you finding Taipei?"
"Hot. A lot to take in. Honestly kind of terrifying most days."
She laughed—real, not polite. "I felt exactly the same when I moved to Singapore. Everything moved too fast, everyone seemed to know rules I hadn't learned yet. But you get used to it."
"Do you? Actually get used to it?"
"After a while. Now I can't imagine being anywhere else." She paused while their soup dumplings arrived, steam rising in delicate clouds. "Steven says you're doing well. That you have instincts he trusts."
"Steven's being generous."
"Steven doesn't do generous—he does honest." Diana picked up her chopsticks with practiced ease. "He told me about the David Koh analysis. Said you caught things he missed, which for Steven is basically declaring someone brilliant."
Gene didn't know how to respond to that, so he focused on his dumplings.
"Can I be direct with you about something?" Diana asked after a moment.
"Sure."
"Steven doesn't usually bring people into his world this fast. He's careful about who he works with, who gets access to his network, his reputation." She met his eyes. "The fact that he brought you on as partner-track after three months? That's unusual. That's him betting on you in a big way."
Something uncomfortable shifted in Gene's chest. "Why are you telling me this?"
Diana set down her chopsticks, her expression thoughtful. "Because I like Steven. A lot. And I can see how much he gives to the people around him, how much he puts into them. I want to make sure the people he's betting on understand what that means."
"You think I'm going to disappoint him somehow?"
"No. I think you're young and ambitious and maybe don't realize yet that relationships in this world are everything. Steven's staking his reputation on you. I just want you to know what's at stake." She relaxed slightly. "Not as a threat. Just as… context."
The noodles arrived—fragrant, steaming, perfect. They ate in silence for a moment, and Gene tried to process what Diana was really saying. Was this a warning? A test? Or was she honestly just looking out for Steven?
"Can I ask you something?" Gene said finally.
"Of course."
"How long have you and Steven been together?"
"About six weeks. We met at a conference in Hong Kong, kept talking, decided to see where it goes." Diana's smile was soft, a little uncertain around the edges. "It's new. We're both busy. We're trying to figure out if the logistics make sense."
"And does it? Make sense?"
"Sometimes. When we're actually in the same city, when we're not both drowning in work—yeah, it makes sense. Other times…" She trailed off, twirling noodles around her chopsticks. "Other times I wonder if we're just two workaholics who found someone who won't complain about the hours."
Gene thought about what Mei had said. About Steven loving his work more than he could love anything else.
"For what it's worth," Gene heard himself say, "he seems different when he talks about you. Lighter, maybe."
Diana's whole face changed—relaxed in a way that made her look younger, more vulnerable. "Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
"That's…" She blinked rapidly, and Gene realized with surprise that she was fighting back emotion. "Sorry. That's good to hear. Sometimes with Steven it's hard to tell where you stand. He's so focused on work that everything else feels like an afterthought."
"Mei mentioned that was hard for her."
"Mei's been really honest with me about it, which I appreciate. She said Steven needs someone who can match his pace without disappearing into it." Diana looked out the window at Taipei's busy street. "I'm still figuring out if I'm that person."
They finished lunch slowly, talking about Singapore and Taipei, about the weird pressure of working in venture capital, about family expectations and the exhausting performance of success. Diana paid despite Gene's protests—"Steven would kill me if I let you pay," she said with a laugh—and they walked out into the afternoon heat together.
"Thanks for this," Diana said, slipping her sunglasses on. "I know it was random, but I wanted to meet you without the party chaos. Steven talks about you constantly and I was curious."
"He does?"
"All the time. 'Gene caught this,' 'Gene suggested that,' 'Gene's analysis was sharper than mine.'" Her smile was knowing. "For someone who doesn't give compliments easily, he's pretty free with them when it comes to you."
That uncomfortable feeling in Gene's chest got stronger, spreading through his ribs like heat.
"Anyway," Diana continued, checking her phone, "I should head back to pack. But let's stay in touch? I'm in Taipei pretty regularly for work."
"Yeah. That'd be nice."
They hugged goodbye—Diana smelled like jasmine and something citrusy—and then she was gone, folding into a taxi that disappeared into traffic.
Gene stood on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, trying to process the conversation.
Steven talked about him. A lot. Gave him compliments he didn't give other people. Had brought him into his world faster than normal.
What did that mean?
His phone buzzed. Mei.
*So… lunch with Diana? How was it?*
*How did you know about that?*
*She texted me asking for restaurant recommendations. Said she wanted to meet you before she left*
*It was fine. She's nice*
*Just nice? Gene, I need details*
*Can we talk later? My brain is broken*
*Fine but you owe me coffee and gossip. Deal?*
*Deal*
Gene pocketed his phone and started walking. No destination, just movement. His apartment felt too small right now, too full of thoughts he didn't want to sit with.
He ended up in a park, sitting on a bench under trees that gave maybe three percent shade, watching families and couples and groups of teenagers living their lives.
Steven had a girlfriend. A smart, beautiful girlfriend who flew to different cities just to see him. That was good. That was normal. That was exactly what successful people did—they found other successful people and built lives together.
So why did Gene feel like something had shifted off-balance?
His phone rang. Steven.
Gene stared at the screen for three rings before answering.
"Hey."
"Hey. Diana said you guys had lunch. Thanks for meeting her."
"Yeah, no problem. She's great."
"She is." Steven paused. "You sound off again. What's going on?"
"Nothing. Just tired."
"Gene."
"I'm fine, Steven. Really."
Another pause. Longer this time. "Okay. Well, if you want to talk about whatever's bothering you, I'm around. Otherwise, I'll see you Monday."
"See you Monday."
Gene hung up and sat in the park for another hour, watching Taipei live and breathe around him, trying very hard not to think about why his chest felt tight every time he pictured Steven and Diana together.
He was being ridiculous. This was stupid. He was tired and reading too much into nothing.
That's what he told himself, anyway.
Whether he believed it was another question entirely.