fanning a flame - by john d. zhang - ordinary instants

On Saturday night, a few hours before D and I are supposed to leave for the gay club in Ximending, I find myself still thinking about T. He was at the gathering that D, a friend whose apartment in Taipei I have temporarily invaded, brought me to the previous night. I introduced myself to T because I thought he was cute, but I had tried to avoid getting my hopes up after learning that he came with someone else, another gay man that he seemed a little too familiar with. Still, whenever he’s crossed my mind today, the thoughts of him have lingered like little smoldering embers of desire. Suddenly, a spark catches, and my thumbs tap out a DM to T over Instagram: are you coming to s_____ n___ tonight? please say yes :) The instant the message is sent, I fling my phone across D’s futon, giddy and delirious and a little embarrassed at my own behavior. Two hours later, we are at the club. D and I wait for shots at the bar; meanwhile, I drink in the scene around us: undulating purple lights, me

On Saturday night, a few hours before D and I are supposed to leave for the gay club in Ximending, I find myself still thinking about T. He was at the gathering that D, a friend whose apartment in Taipei I have temporarily invaded, brought me to the previous night. I introduced myself to T because I thought he was cute, but I had tried to avoid getting my hopes up after learning that he came with someone else, another gay man that he seemed a little too familiar with. Still, whenever he’s crossed my mind today, the thoughts of him have lingered like little smoldering embers of desire. Suddenly