She wasn't sure what she was thinking.
She told herself if she ever met anyone from that town again, she would run far away. But what did she do when she met the worst option of them all? She ran straight to him and took him back to her place. God knows why. Maybe there was something about the past that she couldn't let go of. Maybe she couldn't get herself to say no to someone who was practically begging on their knees. She thought she developed better negotiation skills than that. Or maybe it was because it was that boy.
She remembered that boy. She remembered his big eyes framed by long eyelashes that she could only achieve with mascara. She remembered telling him that his eyelashes were wasted on a boy. She remembered that he found it funny, because she remembered his laugh. 'I could be a girl, if you like,' he had said. What a silly boy. What things he said. She remembered his scraped-up hands from climbing over the school walls. She remembered how they touched places only she had touched before. She remembered his lips. How numb they felt the first time.
And of course, how could she ever forget that voice? She seemed to hear it everywhere. It shocked her the first time she heard it on the radio, and ever since then, she couldn't escape it. High or low, loud or quiet, she couldn't mistake him for anyone else. It was rare for anyone to be able to bring that larger-than-life sound to their voice like he did. He convinced her of whatever he sang about, whether it was euphoric self-destruction or a declaration of love.
She almost didn't recognize him. Even though she had seen how he changed, in her mind he was still the boy from school. She was wrong. He wasn't skinny and scrappy anymore. His hair no longer had the cut that screamed of blunt scissors in school toilets. His clothes were no longer worn out. But she would recognize that drunken sway anywhere. The money hadn't changed that sad look in his eyes. If there was anything she had learned, money made men more desperate for company.
Was he the same Nate anymore? The boy she knew had grown into a man, with all the baggage that came with. What had the years done to him? What did he see? How had people treated him? Would he treat her the same way? All she knew was that when he smiled at her, it was like nothing had ever happened. She saw the way his face lit up to see her and nothing else mattered.
Natasha was going to be mad. It was a good thing that she was out for the night and wouldn't be back until the sun was up. She couldn't imagine how she would explain bringing back a man. A man Natasha might possibly recognize. It made her sick.
She was too busy helping Nate wobble to her apartment to think about that now. It was a miracle he could walk at all. She was worried about how much he had drank, but he was conscious enough to respond to her, so she hoped that it didn't mean a visit to the emergency room this time. The elevators were working that night, which happened to be another miracle. Otherwise, they might have both passed out trying to take the stairs.
Nate looked up at the blinking light above them. Her nerves caught up to her. What was she thinking? What would he think once he saw how she lived? She became all too conscious of how different they had become. She couldn't even imagine what kind of luxury he was used to. She could barely even believe how easily he threw money at her. Did he even remember what it was like to keep needing more and more money?
"With my luck, this elevator's going to break down with us in it," he said dryly. She found it so bizarre that it coaxed a laugh out of her. In her view, he might have been the luckiest man alive. More luck than her, that was for sure. But maybe not. A lucky man wouldn't have found himself in this situation, would he?
"I don't think that's luck," she replied. "That's just how things work around here."
"Yeah? You ever get stuck taking it?" he asked. It made her remember something.
"My first week here. The lights went off and I was stuck for twenty minutes. I thought I was gonna die."
The doors opened. He turned to her, and she saw that the corners of his mouth had lifted. Her heart skipped a beat. Stupid, silly boy. Did he charm everyone else so easily? He must've. Although she wouldn't admit it in a million years, she saw how he acted in interviews. He had people hanging onto his every word. He was destined for the limelight, and she should have known that from the start.
"Good thing you're not dying with me."
"You're so dumb," she said without thinking. He wobbled out into the hallway before offering her a hand. Again, she took it without thinking. She was thankful that it was impossible to see how her cheeks warmed up at feeling her hand in his. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She wasn't a schoolgirl anymore, why did he get her so self-conscious?
"Should I close my eyes, so I don't know which apartment you're in?" he asked. She rolled her eyes and kept helping him walk in the right direction.
"Unless you're a rockstar by day and a serial killer by night, it doesn't matter to me. I'd prefer you keep your eyes open, so you don't bash your head against anything."
"You're still so funny," he laughed. Pride swelled in her chest to know that she made him laugh. She had to remind herself that she wasn't special. This was just a meeting between old friends who would soon go their separate ways. Yes, that was it. He might remember her, but there was no need for their paths to cross once more. That would be a pipe dream.
They stopped at a rusty grill door decorated with pink fairy lights. Natasha's idea, she would have never agreed to it if it weren't for the fact that her roommate always paid their rent whenever she came up short. She should start being a lot nicer to Natasha, she thought as she jammed the key to open up the door. Maybe by not bringing unknown men to their apartment. She would start.... tomorrow.
Nate stepped into the apartment. If he noticed how there was a giant hole in the ceiling and the fact that they had no carpet, he didn't say. He just yawned.
"Where am I allowed? I need to sit down, my head is killing me."
"Well..." she thought out loud. "You can go anywhere except that hallway," she pointed it out to him. "That's me and my roommate's bedrooms. There's a toilet in the kitchen, and you can get something to eat if you want. There's not much, but I hope it's enough."
He nodded and took a few steps before collapsing onto the living room couch. Maybe it was a good thing that the apartment wasn't that big. She thought it was better if she got him a glass of water. She was about to go to the kitchen when a message popped up on her phone.
A curse almost slipped out of her mouth. She checked to see if Nate was looking. He was staring at the blank TV, deep in thought. She slipped into her bedroom for a minute, hoping that he would be okay. She didn't want to seem like she couldn't give him attention. It wasn't like she had to work that night. A thought popped up in her head to count the money he gave her. She took out the bills from her purse. As the numbers racked up with every bill she counted, she was lost for words. He had given her seven hundred dollars.
Another message popped up, breaking her out of her daze. She scrolled down her notifications to open up the app. There were dozens of unread messages, but she focused on the most recent one.
Albert : Good evening.
Albert : Not working tonight?
Nate must have been an angel God sent her to save her from work. With the money she had, she wouldn't have to work the next night, either. A part of her wanted to wave that in his face, but she had to stay professional. She thought of an excuse to type out. After all, she couldn't seem like she was anything but eager to work. Exploitative bastards.
Cindy : no i felt sick so im home right now
Albert : You should've let me take care of you ;)
She was annoyed. She hated clingy men like him, but she seemed to encounter them everywhere. They loved to distract her when she was busy doing something. It took her a minute to compose herself and write a response.
Cindy : lol maybe next time
Cindy : i wish i could talk to you more :( my head hurts rly bad
She felt an urge to throw away her phone after sending that message. Instead, she left her phone on her bed and went back towards the kitchen. She turned on the kettle. Her apartment's tap water wasn't a luxury she would have bestowed on anyone, but especially not Nate. As soon as she came out of the kitchen, she felt his gaze on her.
"I bet you're wondering what the hell is wrong with me," he said as his eyes followed her through the room. She handed him a warm glass of water. He took it without protest.
"I'll listen if you want to talk about it," she said. "But there's no pressure. I'll be here any way I can."
He sipped at the water. He seemed very interested in the bottom of the glass by the way he stared down at it. Silence settled between the two of them. She thought that he wouldn't like to talk about it, which was fine. It had been too long since either of them spoke. She wouldn't want to spill her guts out to herself, either. But she was wrong.
"I can't sing," he said matter-of-factly. The statement took a while to register in her brain. A Nate who couldn't sing would be like a bird that couldn't fly. But she met all kinds of people. A singer who couldn't sing, a writer who couldn't write, an athlete who couldn't compete. The strangest things would happen to send someone into a spiral. They retracted into their little shells, afraid of doing anything, afraid of the world.
"What makes you think that?" she asked. He finished his water and put the glass on the table. She winced at the clink it made. Nate hung his head down. She noticed that he seemed unable to look at her when the subject came up.
"I mean, I thought I could. I sang in front of Xia. But that's different, you know? The people who want to see me don't know me like that. If I mess up in front of them, then they..."
She nodded and tried to guess the end of his sentence, "You think they won't like you anymore."
He shrugged.
"I don't want to let anyone down. I've been a mess lately. Ever since I came back from rehab, everything's been going wrong. I'm -"
She watched as a realization came over him.
"I'm afraid I only make people want to leave me."
She resisted the urge to reach out to him. She always wished she was better with words. People always seemed to want to confide in her, so why couldn't she be better at comforting them? Especially when it came to someone she had known for so long. She wanted to tell him that she understood. But it was difficult. Maybe she felt the same way about him, that if she told him anything, he would leave, too.
"Why did you leave?" he murmured.
The question sent a jolt down her spine.
"Same reason you left. Money."
He shook his head and sank further into the couch. He seemed sadder all of a sudden, drained and deflated of life. He couldn't even lift his head from his chest. It amazed her how his emotions were strong enough to completely come over him. If he was happy, if he was sad, it seemed to be stronger than any thought he had. Even after fame, his heart stayed on his sleeve. Was he like this with everyone? She couldn't imagine how much hurt that brought him.
"No. Why did you stop calling?"
Guilt twisted inside her. There was always an excuse, wasn't there? Didn't friends naturally drift apart? There was never enough time. But the real reason was something she couldn't admit to herself.
"I always thought you were too busy."
"I would've found time to call you back."
She sat at the end of the couch. She couldn't decide whether to take off Nate's jacket. The nights in her apartment were cold at this time of year, but the fur lining did not look comfortable to sleep in. Her fingers reached out to unzip it. There was no protest at his end. He just kept looking at her. She opened the jacket to give him some air and left it alone. She didn't know why, but being so close to him made her second guess her actions more than she usually would. Maybe it was because he was too drunk to think about anything. Maybe seeing how much he changed made everything different.
"I'm sorry," was all she could say. "I'm here now."
He sniffed.
"Stay this time, please. You're all I have."
His honesty didn't surprise her. Men seemed to be the most honest when they were with her. There was something about loneliness that made walls nonexistent when they finally came into contact with someone. She had heard things she would never have expected. She had no room to judge. She would just listen.
"I want to help you."
There was something else she wanted to say, but she found it difficult to speak. How could she say anything when there was so much to tell? How could she confess the last two years into one night? There was no way. After tonight, he would be gone again. Lost to a world that she would never know. He could tell her how much they should stay in touch, but she didn't belong in that world. She would help him for this one night, and that would be it. It would be a proper goodbye.
She tried to ignore the fact that even if he never saw her again, she would notice him everywhere. Some part of her would search for him in every magazine, every radio station, every news headline. She wanted to remember the boy with the voice. That was why she was helping him now. She could have dropped him off at a hotel, but she didn't. She wanted more time with him. Maybe she hoped in the faintest of hopes that he would remember her once he disappeared forever.
How was she supposed to feel seeing his face up close? Thousands of pictures and videos on screens and magazines couldn't have prepared her for this. It was like seeing a star, a literal star that burned so bright it hurt her to look. His eyes were such a warm deep brown that she could get lost in them. His smile made his whole face shine. She always knew he was pretty but seeing him in person made her heart clench. How could seeing him behind a screen ever compare? She wanted to hold his face and tell him that he was the prettiest man she had ever seen.
It was no wonder the whole world knew his name. How could you ever stop looking at a face like that? Did he even have to try to be seen? If he could draw her to him like a moth to a flame, she was sure it was like that for everyone else. It almost made her envious. Part of her wished she didn't have to try so hard for people to look at her. The other part of her wanted to keep him away from the world that made it feel impossible for them to ever know each other again.
It disgusted her. They had only just met again, and she was already letting desperation get to her. There was no way for her to keep him in her life, no matter how much she wished for it. Her desperation wasn't just because of him, it was because she wanted things to go back to the way they were. She couldn't be eighteen again. No matter what she chose, the ending would be the same. She would let him go.
She tried to get herself to speak.
"When I hear you talk about this, it doesn't make me want to leave," she said. "And I'm sure if the people that really look up to you knew, they'd -" she paused, wondering if she was speaking for them, or speaking for herself. "They'd do anything to help you."
"Maybe you're right," he replied hesitantly. "I don't know why, but people keep helping me even though I can't do anything for them. Like you, right now."
Thoughts whirled in her head. She didn't want to say the wrong thing. The clock was ticking on the time they had left together. She had to get this right. She imagined how she would feel if she were him. It was hard. It wasn't like she had much to go off of. But she had to try.
"You were in rehab. That must've been hard, right?" she asked. He nodded, and she continued. "If I were you, I'd be so messed up from withdrawals that I won't be able to think of anyone but myself. But people still helped you then, didn't they?"
He thought about it and nodded again. She was relieved. If it turned out she was wrong, it might have been enough of a sore subject for him that she would be left with nothing. She didn't remember the last time she felt like she was walking on eggshells as much as that moment. She didn't want him to feel like everything was impossible. He couldn't go back into his shell. He might not have ever come out.
"So, what do you mean?" he asked. She had no clue where she was going with it, but she couldn't stop. Maybe she didn't have to think. This once, she would be honest.
"I mean no matter how badly you think of yourself, your worst is already behind you. You're a better person than you were before, Nate. Even if you weren't, people helped you then, and they'll help you now. Because... because you deserve help. Everyone does."
He finally looked up at her. She was struck by how big his eyes were, how they shone with tears. When he spoke, it was as if a million lifetimes of sadness weighed down on him. Even in that state, he was beautiful. He had her unable to look away. All her restraint dissolved into nothing. She missed him, she really did. If she had her way, she would have gone back to the day Nate left and begged him to take her with him. Maybe things would have turned out differently. They would have never ended up like this.
"Do you mean that?"
She nodded. Words escaped her when she gazed into his face. But there was something she had to say. She wanted to save him.
"Do you still want to sing?" she asked. He choked at hearing her words. He looked down, looked up, then looked at her again.
"I do," he finally said. "That's what I've been telling everyone. But look at me. I never actually get myself to do it. I promise all these things and I..." he trailed off. She could guess that there must have been a million things running through his head. She wished she could make his mind quiet. She wanted to confess that she had always been watching him. She wanted to tell him about how great he was and how she wished he knew that too. But she was still afraid. So, she said the next best thing.
"If it's to hear a voice like yours and if it's to see a performer like you," she said, "I think people would wait however long it takes for your promises to come true. I think... the best thing to do is to be honest with them. If they know how much you want to make them happy even though you're going through so much, they'll understand. And they'll love you even more. You know how many people would kill to know these things about you?"
Nate let out a hollow laugh. "They only want to know because they're waiting to tear me apart," he muttered. It made her want to shake some sense into him.
"For every person that never liked you in the first place, there are thousands who'd rush to support you. Someone who is good all the time is fine, but people want someone they can root for. Imagine when people get to see you fight everything and win? They'd be so happy that they supported you all along."
He stayed silent for a while. Did she say too much? A sigh escaped his mouth, and he covered his face with his sleeve.
"Thank you. It means more than you know. Sometimes I forget these things. I've been on my own for so long that I've been stuck with my thoughts. You're right. I'm going to be honest. I'm going to keep singing."
She couldn't help herself. She jabbed a finger against his forehead. His silliness was driving her mad. He let out an exaggerated yelp.
"Stop getting caught up in your thoughts. If you do, I'll remind you about reality."
He smiled underneath his sleeve.
"Is that a promise?"
"Maybe. I'm a little busy these days..." she said, trying to skirt past the topic. Her heart was sinking as it was torn between wanting to be there for him and knowing the truth. She couldn't get close to him. She couldn't give herself that hope. He lifted his arm from his face. She saw him frown.
"If I sing, will you promise that you'll be there?"
She wasn't sure what to say. Men always seemed to want things from her that she couldn't give. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't let them in. But they didn't understand that. How could they? She couldn't be honest. She was too afraid to. In the end, she kept making promises.
"I want you to sing for yourself, not for me. But if you want me there, then you'd better buy me a ticket," she tried to joke. It seemed to put him at ease. He curled up on the couch and nestled his head into the shabby pillows.
"I'll get you backstage. The whole band should meet you," he yawned. "Xia... would love to see you again."
She got up from her seat. He was falling asleep, even though she could see that he was trying to stay awake. He must have been exhausted. She felt drained, too. It made her satisfied that she could help, even if it took a lot out of her. She wished she could have done more. If only she wasn't stuck in a different world than him. If only she had more power. Maybe she would understand.
Nate muttered something as he closed his eyes, "I'm gonna sing for you soon. Need you to..."
He fell fast asleep. She reached out to him. But she didn't touch him. She couldn't. She just let her hand linger above his face. He looked like an angel when he was asleep. Whoever woke up to him would be lucky. Hopefully, he would get a lot of rest tonight. Hopefully, his dreams would be kinder to him than he was to himself. It was what he deserved.
She needed to get some sleep herself, so she could forget about all the things she wished she had said. Everything would be alright. Nate was going to sing again. It was what he was born to do. She had done her part, there was no use in wishing for more. As long as he was alright, she could ignore everything else.
"Goodnight, Nate."