This Crazy Rich Boy

"What are you doing running around in the dark?" Miguel says, helping his brother up.

In the dim light, Gabriel's face is all red from embarrassment. He dusts off his shoulder, and looks around—he presumes Claire's bodyguards are around them, and maybe they're shocked, too, upon seeing him here.

"Can't a free man jog whenever and wherever he wants to?" Gabriel says.

Miguel laughs. "When have you started jogging while wearing your suit? Is this a new fashion?"

"Well," Gabriel mutters, unsure of what to say. "I was really going home to change clothes, when I felt like running. So…"

Miguel gives him a strange look. "Gabriel, this is quite the opposite direction to where your home is. And besides, you seem to be wearing your Prada loafers. Those are hardly any good for jogging."

Jesus, Miguel, quit the questions, Gabriel screams in his mind. The more he talks, the deeper the hole he seems to be digging. He tries to smile. "I don't know what came to me. I just—"

"Are you alright?" Claire says. She approaches and fixes his collar. Claire looks truly concerned. Gabriel catches a whiff of her scent, and he fights the urge to throw his arms around her, right here, right now. "Your shirt is soiled. I don't think Mr. Wong at Leed's would be very happy about this," she says.

Gabriel says nothing; he just allows her to take her time in fixing his collar. He feels weird. As though this little act of caring feels so intimate. His mind is instantly transported to some future he longs for: he imagines Claire as his wife, caring for him, doing these wifely things for him. It gives him a warm wonderful feeling in his stomach.

On the other hand, Claire feels strangely weird, too, as she looks up (Gabriel is much taller than her) in fixing his collar. She takes her time. She doesn't care if people passing by are beginning to stare or wonder what these people are doing. Even after she has already removed the dirt, she still pretends to obsessively remove that stubborn stain, even letting her hand touch Gabriel's neck and ċhėst.

Miguel approaches and looks closely at whatever Claire's trying to clean. "I don't see anything wrong with that collar? It's fine, Claire."

Reluctantly, Claire stops. She stands back as though trying to get a big picture of what she has completed. "There, it's gone."

Gabriel touches his collar as though something magical has happened to it. "Thank you." He sighs. "I guess I better be going then."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Miguel says. "You can't possibly be continuing to jog in that situation?"

"Yeah," Claire says. And then after a pause: "Why don't you join us?"

"What?" Miguel says in surprise, obviously not liking this sudden turn of events.

"Yeah," she says, trying to disarm him with her smile. "Why not? He's your brother. And it's not like this is an exclusive date, right? We can have a good time, the three of us."

Miguel couldn't speak; he has that pained expression on his face. He looks at Gabriel, then to Claire, trying to make sense of what's happening.

Gabriel senses it and decides to avoid the awkwardness. "That's alright, Claire, this is your thing. I don't want to stand in your way or cramp my brother's style in any possible way." He tries to smile, but it more looks like he's squirming.

"No, I'm sure it would be fun if there's three of us," Claire insists, and she touches Gabriel on the arm.

Miguel doesn't miss it. He glances at Claire's hand on Gabriel's arm, and it baffles him, this gesture. As though Claire actually wants Gabriel to accompany them, that she's not doing this out of politeness.

"But three's a crowd," Miguel says.

"A crowd's more fun," she says.

Miguel gazes at Gabriel's eyes, trying to implicitly send the message of "Give way, bro. Remember the Bro Code?"

But Gabriel is undecided; Miguel sees that his brother obviously wants to stay and be with them. How else can you explain his sudden presence here, in this place, an area Gabriel had never visited in ten years? Surely, this was a sly move. And right now Miguel is confused: why would his brother go to great lengths just to keep an eye on Claire, if that's what this really is? Why be so obsessive about your "employee"? Is it possible that…Gabriel actually likes her, in the same way Miguel likes her?

Claire also playfully grabs Miguel by the arm, and with her in the middle, she says, "Come on, let's go. Let's stop overthinking, shall we? Miguel, where did you say you're taking me?"

"Well, uhh," he stammers, glancing at his brother. ""We're going to a magical place."

"Really?" Claire's reaction is pure child-like wonder, and she seems a hundred times more beautiful in that moment.

"Yes," Miguel mutters. "We're going to—"

"—The City Amusement Park," Gabriel suddenly finishes. A pause. Suddenly, Gabriel realizes: he shouldn't have known that! Now it becomes plain and obvious of what he's been doing all along—spying on them, or at least, second-guessing Miguel's intentions.

Miguel only laughs, though. "You know me too well, my brother. I missed that place. Remember when we were kids?"

"Of course," Gabriel says too eagerly, perhaps to deflect attention and stop Claire from wondering why Gabriel knows where Miguel is taking her. "Remember the half-burnt corndogs that Mother buys because it's cheaper."

Miguel laughs. "Yeah, and how we really tried to hit all the balloons in the shooting gallery, because you wanted to much to win that huge teddy bear?"

"Oh, my God, so embarrassing," Gabriel laughs, glancing at Claire, who's grinning, too, and secretly amused at the brothers' exchange of funny childhood anecdotes.

"Why did we even stop going here," Miguel says. "We should have had a yearly pilgrimage to the amusement park. You know, to remind us of how we used to be. To not lose the child in us."

"Wow," Claire exclaims, "that was beautiful, Miguel. I love that."

Miguel almost turns his head so quickly because he thought he heard Claire say, "that was beautiful, Miguel, I love YOU." But upon realizing his mistake, he grins. "You know, you just don't know I'm a poet."

Secretly, Gabriel cringes at what Miguel said. "He's going to recite one of his poems, Jesus," he screams in his mind. Please, Miguel, have some sense. Don't spoil this moment, Gabriel begs mentally.

But thankfully, Miguel has fallen silent. He seems to have realized or recalled something. They're just awkwardly walking to wherever they're going, with Claire in the middle and chain-linking them in her arms, like some clever child who's trying to reconcile her feuding parents.

On the other hand, Gabriel is thinking, too, about how fast things have gone down this way. Just a couple of days ago, it would never have entered even his wildest dreams to find himself in this unspoken "competition" with his brother. He seems to be saying all the wrong things ever since Miguel had arrived. Maybe he should just try not to talk too much. Yes, Gabriel thinks. That's a good plan. Zip it.

By the time they're at the grand entrance to the amusement park, Gabriel has vowed to himself to never open his mouth again—not as long as he's here with them. Because the more he opens his mouth, the more he only demonstrates that he's the world's biggest idiot.