Valentine’s day.

I still felt bad that the girls were left to organize something for us for Valentine’s Day since I didn’t think the Talent Show was a good enough excuse. If anything, I’d say a better reason for me forgetting was that being single all my life had made me not register the date as anything special. Hell, I resented it to some extent and I can’t be the only one.

You’re alone, wishing you had somebody who cared about you, and all the while couples around act all lovey-dovey, stores begin to sell heart-shaped chocolates, flowers and cards, and all the advertising shows people being in love. It’s like rubbing salt on a lonely man’s heart wounds, so I never expected I would ever be buying flowers and chocolates in heart-shaped boxes, yet that was exactly what I was about to do.

As I was getting ready to leave the house that afternoon, I saw Isabelle coming out of her room just as I came out of mine. I looked her up and down in surprise. She was wearing sweatpants, an old long sleeved T-shirt and her fluffy slippers.

“You’re going out now?” She yawned and scratched her stomach. “Have fun.”

“And… you don’t have plans for today?” I asked her, a bit skeptical.

She grinned. “Nope, and it feels better than I thought.”

“Huh?”

“I can count with the fingers of one hand the times I’ve had a good Valentine’s Day, dear brother. This year, I’m free of obligations. Honestly, being single is more comfortable than I remembered.”

She seemed honest, and really, Isabelle and I had different perspectives on this. She had had boyfriends before and lots of them turned out to be jerks. Now she was focusing on herself rather than her love life, so I suppose that skipping Valentine’s Day this year came to her as a welcomed break. For me, though, it was my first time actually celebrating it instead of hating it.

“So long as you’re satisfied,” I told her. “Just don’t be a slob all day.”

“Hey, I plan to get some work done later. What about you? Are you coming back tonight or…?”

“I’m… staying out tonight. It was awkward, but I have mom’s permission.”

“Figured. You got them something right? Chocolate? Flowers? it’s cliché, but it’s still nice to receive them.”

“I plan to buy both now.”

Isabelle nodded. “Good. Anyway, enjoy your first Valentine’s Day.”

After that little interaction, I went on my way.

At my first stop at the candy store, the lady had to stop herself from giving me strange looks when I bought five boxes of chocolate. It was like she was trying to decipher my intentions, analyzing if I was a cheating scumbag, a playboy or a very, very devoted boyfriend. It made me very uncomfortable, so yeah, not going to that store ever again.

The lady at the flower shop was a lot nicer. Without me asking, she told me which flowers to avoid if I was picking a Valentine’s Day gift (because of their ominous meanings) and which ones were more associated with love, care and beauty. Honestly, the way she put it made it hard to pick anything. I had thought of picking a single type of flower that reminded me of each of the girls, but as the lady explained some of their meanings to me, they all reminded me of them all in some way or another. I’d need a full course on flower language to do something like that, so I ended up picking a bouquet of four flowers: red roses for pleasure and happiness, white daisies for loyal love, blue hyacinths for sincerity and yellow honeysuckles for devoted affection. Honestly, there were probably at least 5 more layers of meaning behind these flowers, but I’d already learned that indecision and inaction can be dangerous. When I asked the lady for five bouquets, she laughed and called me a charmer. See? That’s how you sell and get people to come back. She even gave me a small discount and five small, blank cards for free. I decided to write a short, personal message for each of the girls.

Anyway, it was time for me to head over to the place. Since I had to make these purchases, I’d been **** to decline Mila’s generous offer to pick me up, and since the place we were going to this time was rather far from my house, practically at the other side of the city, I had to do something I rarely ever did. I had to take the subway. I put the chocolate boxes in my backpack, but I had to carry the flowers in my arms. I definitely made for a very stereotypical image of a guy on Valentine's Day. I was certainly getting all kinds of looks. They also made me uncomfortable. Worry about yourselves, dammit!

I followed the directions to the location Grace had sent me, a quiet street in an entertainment district in one of the richest parts of the city. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was a love hotel, but I was perplexed nonetheless. I mean, the building was huge! At least three times the size of the other place we used. Fourteen floors, I think, but also very, very wide. The whole thing was painted red and had large, one-way glass windows. However… I saw some heavy machinery parked around, construction equipment and such. None of it in use and everything carefully stashed away, but it was close at hand for when it was needed. The building did look particularly new, but still, the sign at the glass double doors said it was open, and just to make sure, I confirmed the name of the hotel with the name Grace had sent me.

Pleasure Lake Hotel.

Was this the ‘something interesting’ that Noelle said she and Grace found? I admit, I felt pretty anxious. Entering a place I’d never been to before still gave me that feeling. Those stupid questions of ‘what if this isn’t the place?’ or ‘What do I say once I’m in?’ but Alice said they had already made reservations. Besides, I needed to… wanted to get rid of that dumb anxiety, and what better way to do it than the age old adage of ‘fuck it, here goes nothing’?

And so, I went inside. After all, I’d been to a love hotel before. How different could it be?

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