Lifetimes of Choices (2/3)
< Luckily, I am able to control these following decisions: ... to go with a smart comeback responding to Seunghoon’s assertion.>
Lightly tapping his shoulders, I said, “hey, about earlier, sorry if I was an ass.”
“Yeah? Don’t worry, I’ve done it too - well actually, I did worse. I downloaded all episodes of Signal. Nobody bat an eye that time but in my visit the week after, I learned that the café shuts down its Wi-Fi entirely and I lost a place to work. Not wanting to lose this one, too.”
“Ah, I see. So it was more of a selfish reason rather than a public service.”
“Well, two birds with one stone. Not too bad, eh?”
“Not too bad indeed. Frank Underwood would approve.”
“Detective Lee Jaehan wouldn’t.”
“He wouldn’t indeed. Anyways, I’m Mino. Nice meeting you.”
“Seunghoon. Nice meeting you.”
--
Seunghoon and I lived nomadically but loved passionately. With him, I am home. My lives have always been unpredictable - for all I know I could be a monkey in my next lifetime, who knows? - but the assurance of his presence has always pacified me.
It was autumn, seven years into our relationship. The yellowing ginkgo leaves are aplenty, making the streets of Kyoto look like they are covered in a glistening carpet of gold. Seunghoon had retold me over and over again about the wonders of Kyoto: how he visited it once briefly during his high school field trip and how he had always wanted to go back. He would mention names of exotic shrines, tranquil gardens, and appetizing tsukemono. I would usually just smile at his passionate and endless fascination of the quaint city - I myself, fascinated by him.
So, when Seunghoon managed to win a contract for a promotional artwork project with Nintendo, we didn’t think twice. I quit my job and we moved to Kyoto the next month, and despite our one too many ramen cups and depleting bank accounts, we had a swell time.
“I’m really sorry that I didn’t secure the second Nintendo project. I think I didn’t do good enough,” Seunghoon said one particular afternoon in our tiny studio apartment in suburban Kyoto. He was cooking some dish (a mixture of whatever was remaining in our fridge) which smelled thick of gochujang.
“Hey, what’s the next level after I finish this boss stage?” I was too fixated on this new Super Mario Bros game Seunghoon has managed to obtain from his previous project - can you believe that for once Princess Peach doesn’t need to be saved?
“Song Mino. I’m being serious here,” he said as he stopped stirring the pot and turned into my direction. “I didn’t win the Nintendo project.”
“It’s okay, we’ll get another.”
“Alright then.”
Minutes passed and I still haven’t killed off Donkey Kong. Whatever Seunghoon’s making it had better be good for I’m starving and he is taking longer than usual. I liked his rendition of chicken teriyaki best, - not too sweet and the chicken is always tender. During austere months we manage to survive with homemade onigiri which consists of ninety-five percent rice, three percent laver, and two percent canned tuna. Thinking of these really makes me hungry.
“Hey, Seungho-”
“Shit!”
Everything happened in a flash and next thing I knew the fire alarm went on, the pot got thrown to the cabinet next to the stove, its red content splashed to the ivory wall, microwave and the wooden tabletop, and for a split second, there was a huge flash of fire from the stove, leaving a bold black mark on the wall.
“What the fuck, Seunghoon are you alright?! What happened? We should get you cleaned up, let me help you. Are you alright?” my heart skipped a beat - and I think I’ve broken the game console I just threw to the floor.
“I’m… I’m really sorry for all the mess. I’ll clean it up later. Thanks Mino.”
I tried to run up to him before he locked himself in the bathroom, but he proved again that he’s the better sportsman. I swear I saw a stream of tears running down his cheek; never in our seven years of relationship have I seen him cry, not even when we were on the verge of breaking up, or when he broke his right arm in a skateboarding accident. He was only teary eyed when Leehee died, which afterwards he quickly went to the bathroom and washed his face, took a shovel and buried her in our backyard with his own hand.
I lightly knocked on the door twice and dearly called his name, before he answered, “I’m okay. Just give me five minutes? We need to call the plumber again because this sink is plugged for the second time this month. Perhaps you should call Mario and Luigi over.”
I hate how he’s still trying to make me laugh even when he can’t hide the shakiness of his voice.
“I will be outside, okay? I will come back in five. I’ll try to call Mario if Donkey Kong didn’t kidnap me first.”
He gave a faint chuckle as I step away to the front door. Luckily all the neighbors were out (probably enjoying the nice autumn day, unlike us miserable people) so there was no unnecessary questioning nor complaints filed. There is a potential police inquiry over our kitchen incident in which I’m prepared to say yes, sir, I am sorry, we were trying to cook a soup. Or perhaps the stove was out of control. Or going the rebellious route of sorry, officer, it was just a weird kink of ours. Want to join the fun?
“Mino?”
A familiar voice greeted me once I stepped out of the building to turn off the alarm panel.
“Jun-myeon? Wow, man! What are the odds! What are you doing here? We meet at last!” It was Junmyeon, all in his perfect smile glory.
“Astronomical indeed! It’s good seeing a familiar face once more. How have you been? What and who are you now? Hopefully better than the last time we met as a high school transfer student in the States. Was such a great time but I ended up being a shitty car salesman. Wow, it’s so good to see you!”
“Okay, Junmyeon, chill with the questions.”
Junmyeon here is also a Recaller. There isn’t too many of us, and he is one of the closest friends I know - well I suppose you would be, if you went through many lives together. At times we’re best buddies but in other times, he’s truly a cunning little fucker.
We shared a laugh, in which after I replied, “I’m okay, I guess. You tell me! Looking fine and young, eh? How old are you now? Are you an heir for a rich Korean conglomerate or something? Look at these Burberry and Ralph Lauren!”
“I’m doing incredibly fine in this one. I’m 20 years old now, on a vacation with my friends. I’m in the entertainment industry now.”
It is universal policy that you don’t get to win over Junmyeon a lot in terms of successes no matter how many chances or lives you are given.
“Fancy! An aspiring intern? Cameraman prodigy? Award-worthy scriptwriter?”
“Actually, a boygroup member.”
Laughing out loud at his response - how could he possibly be in a boy group? Last time I was in a club with him he totally was the joke of the dancefloor. Rubbing my eyes from the tears of my laughter, I responded, “Now that’s a good one. You got me right there. Practiced your straight face hard, haven’t you?”
“No, dumbass. I really am preparing to be a boygroup member.”
“No shit! How did it happen, really?”
“I’m being serious! There is this company back in Seoul that called me for an audition a couple of years ago. Not sure how it will turn out, but I hope it will be good. I heard I’m going to debut as a member of a twelve-member boy group. Don’t spread it out, though, it’s still in the development phase. Pretty exciting time. Enough about me, how about you?”
Well, nothing much, just planning out on kinky answers to tease police officers and potentially got jailed for it. “I’m assisting my partner in his graphic design venture. We live here in Kyoto.”
“Always busy with your love stories, aren’t you? Aw, you’re a lucky man, Mino. Love is the single most valuable thing to receive in a lifetime. We learned it the hard way, didn’t we?”
“The hard way it was. I’ve never seen you as sad and disappointed as when Sehun left you then. No amount of money compensates the loss of a loved one, I guess.”
“Indeed. Money is finite - love, on the other hand, is infinite. You’re the richer man. Anyways, I have to go now; my friend’s waiting for me. Nice to see you! Meet you around, Mino!” And just like that, Junmyeon stormed into the crowded complex of Kyoto’s suburban area.
I used to think that love is finite and its borders clear - Seunghoon has clearly taught me that it isn’t, as he kept pushing that border further and further away.
Once back to our small apartment, I closed in my ear onto the bathroom door and I could still hear Seunghoon’s sobbing clearly. It pains you to hear the person that means the world to you having their own world crumbling down like this. Gently knocking on the door, I called for him,
“Hey there. Can I come in?”
Silence.
“Seunghoon, can you please let me in? I brought you some takoyaki and brewed you a hot green tea. They are too appetizing to be missed!”
Still silence.
“Seunghoon, I love you. You know that. Would you please let me in?”
It was yet another silence for ten good seconds before I heard footsteps marching near and the lock clicked open.
“Hey,” he said, very softly and brief. I stood there with a wide smile with my left hand bringing the plastic box filled with takoyaki and my right hand the freshly-brewed green tea. I looked like a clichéd character from a fast-food TV advertisement.
“They say eating in front of the bathroom increases your appetite by the tenfold, do you know that?” he asked while I prepare the takoyaki on the floor in front of the bathroom. He sat on the bathroom floor and I on the corridor.
“Says who?”
“Says Professor Dekisugi from Kyoto Open University.”
“Huh? I’ve never heard of Kyoto Open University.”
“There isn’t one, and Dekisugi is a character from Doraemon, but you would have believed it because you’d trust me anyways,” he said while I fed him with the first bite of takoyaki to his open mouth.
“Ah, you know me too well.”
We finished the takoyaki a minute later despite the fact that I bought two large portions of octopus and beef takoyaki. We were famished, mind you. We ate in silence and only sounds of water drops from the bathtub accompanied our quick lunch. After a full tummy, I rose from my seat and went to the bathtub.
“What are you doing?”
“I feel like having a warm water bath. Join me?”
We spent the next ten minutes in silence as we waited for the tub to fill. Our kitchen (well, our entire apartment) looked like a mess so I don’t bother to pick up the takoyaki box to the bin.
“Okay, time to plunge in! Strip down!”
“You know, Mino, it sounds so wrong.”
“If you’re not stripping yourself down, I’m going to strip it for you and you wouldn’t want it to happen, would you?”
He grumbled as he lifted his t-shirt up (the remnants of his glorious abs shy under the cute belly fat - “they’re not cute!” he said) and his shorts, and dipped in the tub.
“You’re not unclothing?”
“Well I’m not joining, this is for you.”
“That’s cheating!”
“I know you need it, Seunghoon,” I smiled at him and kissed his forehead. He might come off as strong, assertive, and intimidating at first, but over the years as he stripped down layers of layers of his façade you will see someone who, really, just needs loving for his incessant insecurities.
I sat on the bathroom floor and helped wash his back, face, and hair. He duly followed my movements and adjusted his head to my massaging. He closed his eyes, and in that fifteen minutes bath, we shared a moment of peace unmatched even by Kyoto’s famed autumn parks.
“I’m really sorry that I didn’t get the Nintendo deal,” he said, looking directly at my eyes and breaking the silence.
“I’ve told you that it’s okay. We’ll get another one. Don’t worry,” there was foam on his eyelids and I washed it off, my fingers brushed his wet eyelashes.
“But we only have so much in the bank - minus whatever yen you’ve spent for the takoyaki.”
“We’ve been through it, Seunghoon. We will get over this again, together.”
He didn’t respond to my last sentence. Instead, he played with the water as if he’s a five years old kid enjoying a bath. His lips curled down a little, and although he’s still very cute, it’s obviously not a good sign of his emotional state.
“I really am sorry that I brought you all the way here to Kyoto, away from the familiarity and comfort Seoul offers. It was very selfish of me. I am really sorry. If only I could turn back time, I would not dare to think of moving here-”
“And if I could, I would gladly repeat whatever we’ve had. They are not perfect, but they made us who we are today. If my love for you is this strong today, it is only because we’ve been through so much and we’ve managed to stand together amidst the unrelenting waves of problems.”
I took his hand and intertwined it dearly with mine. He blushed a little at this and directed his gaze away from me.
“And my love is that strong for you.”
He still didn’t look at my way but I could feel in my hand that he’s trembling. Being the masculine man that he is, he always wants to provide strength for me and be my rock, my bed that heals. He doesn’t want to look weak in front of anyone, moreover in front of me. These things he never said, but a careful observation every day for seven years would reveal. But alas, aren’t we all humans? Like us, he has breakdowns of his own and moments where he simply cannot rely on himself. Some moments, like this one, he needs a rock of his own. It will be left unsaid and he would never ask - but I will always be there.
“I’m sorry I’ve failed you.”
“Lee Seunghoon. You didn’t fail me, neither did you fail anyone else and most importantly you didn’t fail yourself. How we’re living right now is not ideal, and if someone offers a place in Gion where I can live and supply me with a truckload of money I wouldn’t object - but for all I care I could have all the money in the world but if I don’t have you to share it with I wouldn’t be happy. I love you for not what you can give me - I love you for who you are when you are with me and who I am when I am with you. I love you whole - your imperfections, your annoyingness, your mood swings, your stubbornness, you.”
He finally looked at me, his eyes puffy and red.
“Lee Seunghoon, will you marry me?” in a spur of the moment, I popped the question. To be brutally honest with you, I also have no idea why I decided to do so.
He burst into laughter and said, “are you seriously proposing to me while I’m naked in a bathtub?”
“Well, have you even seen yourself naked? If else it’s all the more reason to marry you.”
“Shut up. And, yes, silly. Of course I will.” He leaned to me and we shared a kiss. His wet eyelashes met mine, my hand on his nape, the foam on his shoulder brushed my dry shirt. It was a wet kiss - the uncomfortable, it’s-on-a-damn-bathtub kind of uncomfortable wet kiss.
I’ve proposed to him and he has proposed to me in many different occasions - but now I could add to the portfolio: Lee Seunghoon and I are engaged in a bathtub and bathroom floor next to an empty takoyaki box, inside a shabby apartment in Kyoto with red stains of gochujang and flame on the wall and broken game console on the floor. It was as beautiful for amidst all the imperfections, we are still next to each other, improving and embracing, together.
---
--
-
I’ve always hated the administrative work of copying, printing, and binding official documents. It’s a painstakingly inefficient job with little chance of breakthrough innovation as you have to wait for the 500-page document to get printed before you can do anything about it. These middle-aged politicians are too lazy to learn how to productively use an iPad aside from playing Cut the Rope and Angry Birds (for crying out loud, this is 2016) during Assembly sessions.
“Hey, Song Mino. Congressman Kang sent this for you,” Vernon said. I pity the guy for being too cute - the National Assembly is a place with no mercy if you’re a cute intern. The work will keep coming in because these politicians remember you, but you’re too cute to be taken seriously. Eventually the kind of works you will receive are a) making coffees; b) passing memos to people; c) welcoming and keeping the wives and kids entertained as the dads still have some work to do. Cute guys like him would never get to edit, moreover draft, a bill.
“Thanks, Vernon. How many copies does he need?”
“Just one, I think. He needs it before the Socha meeting this afternoon, so I think you have to make it a priority. Now if you can excuse me I have five coffees to deliver. Lunch together, later?” You have to give this guy an award for his ability to balance five coffees, two copies of the draft bills and a memo, all while dashing swiftly and still maintaining a positive outlook of his career.
Unlike Vernon, I’m not an intern to the floor and shared by fifty congressmen. I am attached and report to one congressman, giving me more exposure to the actual policy-making - and actual politics - behind the many copying jobs. Congressman Kang, my boss, is a young representative from Daegu and is affiliated to the government party, the Socha. He is a man with ambitions. Beside the occasional printing and binding, I also aid him with crafting negotiation briefings. Once I do my job well enough, I will be appointed permanent staff and my own political journey would begin.
Beep beep. A text message arrived:
Meet at usual place 9 pm. Room # is first meeting.
Here we go.
--
The elevator chimed “eleventh floor” and I stepped out, looking for room #1112 - December eleventh. He would often change the date: my birthday, his birthday, our first meeting date, the birthday of the president, the premiere date of a movie, et cetera. Once I almost knocked and entered the wrong room because I wasn’t sure what date the group Winner’s anniversary is (Google provided three different dates, I was so confused).
I knocked the door three times each with an interval of one second as per our agreement and waited. I heard footsteps closing in and about five seconds later, the door opened and Congressman Lee stood uprightly on the center.
“Hi. Come in.”
“Hi, good evening, congressman.”
“Scotch? Bourbon? Beer?” he said, striding across the room. This boutique hotel only offers one type of room which is as big as other hotel’s suite - explaining why the Congressman chose this specific hotel for our rendezvous. He doesn’t have to worry about landing in a mediocre deluxe room, he will always be served in a spacious room with a minibar that isn’t just some packs of sad salted peanuts and diet cokes, but an actual bar with an array of alcoholic drinks.
“I can do a glass of bourbon, sir. How about you? I’ll have it ready. Please, just sit down.”
“Scotch, please. Thank you, Mino.”
In the business of politics, one judges the book by its cover. Appearance matters. This is among the first lessons the Congressman has taught me. Dress to impress, dress to success, he said. At 35 years young, his good looks and poise charmed younger voters, identifying with him more than with the commonly middle-aged congressmen. It’s not only how he looks, but also how he brings about himself. He speaks very eloquently with a dignified articulation. They are not over the top, nor are they superficial and forced. Truly a man fit for the job of persuasion, negotiation, and sometimes, deception.
“Thank you. Now, sit here and let’s talk. How have you been, Mino?”
“I’m good, sir, thank you for asking. Still a lot of room for learning. Congressman Kang has been quite occupied lately with drafting the sanitation bill, and as always, I’m providing him support.”
“I see. What kind of support are you providing him?” I can sense a hint of suggestiveness in that last rhetorical question.
“Sir, as you know, it is nothing like the support I’ve provided for you the past four months,” I shyly sipped my bourbon and smirked. I know he’s weakest to my smirk.
In sudden movements, he brought himself closer to my direction, our face just centimeters apart, his breaths reek of scotch, and his gaze piercing my shy eyes. I can hear his steady and calm breaths.
“Now, now, you wouldn’t want to provide such support to other men, would you?”
No matter how hard I try to keep my composure, my pulse just went erratic and my breathing fast. His right arm, covered in sleek, black Armani suit, firmly gripping the cream-colored sofa and his long legs crossed. His face kept closing into mine, and as the tip of our noses nearly brushed, he slowly tilted his head and slightly parted his lips. I started closing my eyes when he abruptly stood up.
“Well, a meal is never satisfying without a plate of appetizer before the mains. Now, tell me, Mino, is Kang Seungyoon running for Speakership?” he said as he opened his blazer and placed it in the other sofa. He restlessly walked across the room, rolling his sleeves and putting his hand inside his pockets. He’s a manipulative jerk like this sometimes, cockblocking his own moves.
“Yes, sir, he’s aiming for the Speakership in the Assembly. He has advanced his talks with a lot of committee leaders in the Socha party, and he’s scheduled to meet the smaller Liberal party and independent congressmen. With your Maega party, however, I’m not so sure what his plans are, sir.”
Although I’ve been with the Congressman for well over four months, I am still keeping my honorifics - at his request. Such honorifics create a power play between us, asserting his dominance and ensuring my obedience.
“Interesting. Do you think he’ll succeed?”
“Truthfully sir, I think he will. With all due respect to your party, the Socha party is the majority, if the party agrees to vote for him, he will secure the Speaker position. Plus, his political capital is strengthening with the progress of the sanitation bill he’s leading.”
“Well that’s bad news for me, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir, I believe so.”
“Then I have to ensure he’s not receiving those votes to be a Speaker myself, don’t I?”
“Yes, sir, that is correct.”
“Now, I would need support for that. Your support. Can I count you on that?”
“Sir, as I’ve demonstrated the past four months, you certainly can, without a shadow of a doubt.”
“Attaboy.”
He strode across the room and sat down on the armchair of the sofa adjacent to mine. Crossing his legs and resting his left arm on his thighs he said, “Now, shall we move to mains?”
--
“Mino, I can’t stress enough the importance of this meeting. If he can state his public support to the bill, we will have more leverage in pressing other people in the Assembly to vote in favor for the bill. Timing is crucial. I need that support. Do whatever you can to persuade his team.”
“Yes, Congressman Kang. I have been in contact with his team. They seem to have no objection so far. I can assure you this meeting will run smoothly.” How could it not, when the person we’re meeting is Kim Junmyeon, a loyal friend over a hundred lifetimes. Junmyeon seems to be winning in this lifetime again, as he is now the CEO of the second biggest water utilities company in South Korea. In the lifetime before, that twelve-membered boy group of his was highly successful, too. How unfair.
“It better be. It’s only two months away to Speakership voting. Take any measure necessary, even if it has to cost us some under the table deals.”
“Yes, sir. I will.”
We arrived at the glass skyscraper, and were escorted to the top floor where Junmyeon and his staffs were already waiting in the boardroom.
“Congressman! Welcome! We finally meet again after, how long was it? Six months? Always nice to see you. Please, have a seat,” Junmyeon warmly greeted us in his grey suit and still a perfect smile.
“CEO Kim, it’s always my pleasure. This is my team, Song Mino, Shin Jiwon, and Ha Minkyung. They will assist your team if they require any clarifications or questions.” Congressman Kang ordered us to sit near Junmyeon’s team, in case he and Junmyeon need to have a private session. We all shook hands, and when it’s my turn to shook Junmyeon’s, I flashed a large smile and shook his hand quite more strongly than the others’.
The meeting introduction and formalities went for about ten minutes, and afterwards the Congressman and Junmyeon went into separate room. Faced with his team of three, we explored their thoughts and refuted their concerns. It all seemed to be working out fine. Their company would benefit from our sanitation bill as it requires expansion and upgrades of current water treatment facilities resulting in more investment and higher profit for their side. Their only request is for the bill to allow direct appointment of the contractor - in practice, this means that they are implying that they would want to be appointed by the government, enabling them to outcompete their main rival and rise to be Korea’s biggest water company. Not necessarily a clean deal, but what is politics without some under the table agreements.
Forty five minutes later, the Congressman and Junmyeon came back to the boardroom and we wrapped up with another ten minutes of formalities and conclusions. We all laughed and smiled (such a fake façade, I know) like all is well.
“CEO Kim, I must say this meeting has been very fruitful and I believe with your support, this sanitation bill will be successful. Together, we will bring a better future for the people of South Korea. No longer will they live with disparity in public sanitation across regions - and it will be all thanks to you and your continuous effort to improve the country. The country owes a great deal for your commitments.”
“Congressman, when you have the calling for public service, there is no such thing as owing me a great deal. It is all under the spirit for a better country. Thank you for making the time to come.”
All of us proceeded to another round of hand-shaking and thank yous. As I approached Junmyeon for goodbye greetings, I lowered my voice and hushed to him, “hey, Junmyeon. A CEO, huh? Not bad at all. You seem to be winning in lives!”
“Excuse me?” he gave a puzzled look and raised his eyebrows.
“Come on, drop the rigidity. It’s me, Mino!” I laughed while lightly tapping his arm.
“Excuse me, Mister Song, but I believe I had never met you before - and this is getting a bit uncomfortable,” his puzzled look turned into annoyance and he withdrew his hands from mine.
“How can you forget, man! We fought in the Korean War? Shared a room in the American boarding school? Climbed the Kilimanjaro?” if he’s pulling a prank on me, it’s not funny because by this time I can see some gazes from my team and I think, Congressman Kang is looking at us bewilderedly.
“Mister Song, it’s CEO Kim for you - and I certainly don’t recall any of those things with you as I believe you mistook me for someone else. Now if you can excuse me, I have calls to attend to.” He spoke with such coldness in his last sentences that I am starting to believe he really doesn’t recognize me.
“Mino! Come, quick!” Congressman Kang firmly called me from the other end of the table, his voice stern.
Fazed by my bizarre encounter with Junmyeon - or, CEO Kim for now - my mind went blank as we rode the elevator and waited for the car to pick us up. Kim and I have gone through so much together. Even though we were not the best of friends in some lives, but knowing that he’s somewhere in this world, feeling the same experience as I, calmed me.
“What on earth were you thinking earlier? It was a good meeting until you decided to pull that stupid shit at the end of the meeting. Did you forget how I said this is the single most important meeting before the voting on the bill and voting on the Speakership? I simply cannot tolerate your hullabaloo!” served me right, Congressman Kang shouted at me inside the car ride back to the Assembly.
“Yes, sir, I am truly sorry-”
“And how do you think truly sorry sir would help me secure the support? If tomorrow in his live TV interview he didn’t state his support for the bill, you know who’s at fault and you know whose political career ends.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
--
I thought my heart is going to burst while I impatiently wait for the TV interview to be broadcasted. I decided to sleep my worries in, with hope they will be gone the day after. It didn’t. I am still at loss how Kim didn’t recognize me - I know his gazes, and yesterday’s was his honest one. This leads to the question: what if one day, you suddenly lost the ability to recall your past lives? What if, one day, you forget?
To my content, Kim publicly stated his support for the sanitation bill and spoke greatly about how the bill will help the improvement of the country. The whole team cheered and sighed in relief as this would bring the bill closer to approval.
My phone beeped and a text message arrived:
Not impressed. I thought the support was on me?
As if Kim wasn’t enough trouble for a day, now I’m faced with two equally dangerous paths: regain Congressman Kang’s trust and avoid his deliberate political annihilation of me, or provide unwavering support for Congressman Lee and ruin the bill’s approval lest he launches his own attack on my political career and personal life;. This time, I’m taking the time to ponder and think deeply of what moves I shall take - for this could be my last chance to be with any of the two.
--