Forget Me Not

Chapter Eighteen

Mew should have had a better plan. Preferably one that didn't include ambushing Korn out of the blue. He might not have agreed with what Korn was saying when he was saying it, but he hadn't reacted. He hadn't said anything to indicate how he felt. That's what he wanted to tell Korn now. Tell him that he disagreed—vehemently.

But he probably should have called first.

At least then he would have known for sure if Korn was home. Mew was standing outside Korn's door wondering if it was late to do something about it. He could go back to his car and call from there. Wait until he saw Korn come home (or leave home?) or something to assure him that he hadn't made a wasted trip.

There was no way to backtrack without looking strange. He'd bumped into people walking up the stairs. He'd greeted the guard at the gate with the familiarity of someone who knew what he was doing; where he was going. Mew had to keep pressing forward. If he faked it long enough, maybe it would pay off.

Mew knocked tentatively and waited. Realizing that wasn't how he wanted to proceed, he knocked again; louder. He was shocked when the door opened before he was done rapping his knuckles against the door for the third time.

Korn was home—on a Saturday afternoon.

"Hello, Korn."

"What are you doing here?" Korn asks looking up and down the hallway like he was expecting someone else to explain what he was seeing.

Not the auspicious start Mew had hoped for. But on the bright side, Korn was in shorts and a t-shirt and he was eating pizza. He didn't look like someone with plans to be anywhere else. Other than the initial surprise, he didn't look upset that Mew was there. His feelings were more obvious when he moved aside to let Mew into his apartment.

"I thought you were the delivery guy," Korn said by way of an explanation.

It didn't explain much to Mew. Was he or wasn't he upset that he'd shown up without warning? Then Mew looked around. There was an open pizza box on the coffee table with a missing slice. Presumably, the one Korn had scoffed down as he answered the door.

"What were you getting if you already have that?" Mew pointed out.

"Soda," Korn said sitting down in front of the box, "You want some?"

"Uhmm...yeah?" The conversation wasn't going the way he thought but there was nothing wrong with Korn being friendly. If they could manage to be civil to each other, that would be a great way to find footing for the argument he'd prepared. He situated himself next to Korn and picked up a slice, "I haven't eaten yet."

He didn't realize how hungry he was until he took the first bite. Korn was of the same mind and they didn't speak again until they had both finished off a couple of slices each. They might have continued if the soda delivery hadn't interrupted them, forcing them to slow down.

"What brings you here?" Korn finally asked.

Mew had convinced himself he was ready for this conversation. But when it finally came down to it, it took him a minute to order his thoughts.

"I don't understand what you're doing," he finally said.

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you tell me I deserve better?" He asked, hoping he wasn't making things unclear with his ambiguity.

He wanted this conversation to be one that helped them not one that made things more complicated. The trouble was, he could remember the last conversation he'd had with Korn about this very thing. It hadn't gone very well. But the circumstances were different. Korn was no longer with Knock and Mew wasn't about to run into the arms of the first guy who paid him any mind.