When I opened my eyes the room was clad with lights coming from the street lamp that stood near the veranda of the apartment. For a minute, I remained seated on the stool of the kitchen counter with my arms crossed on the table and my head resting on them. I must have fallen asleep while remembering a memory of my high school.

The sound of passing cars and the loud chattering of office workers going home were the only sounds I could hear aside from the beating of my own heart. And I hated that the silence reminded me of the fact that Jeonghan was not in the apartment with me; that he was with his boyfriend and having some fun with him.

It hurts.

I stood, clumsily fixed my messy hair when I passed by the mirror, and went to sat myself on the couch in the living room. I switched on my laptop and browsed through the list of songs I made myself.

I never really liked music when I was a kid. Memories of a person I did not want to have association with came rushing back to me whenever I heard songs or hums or just anything that could pertain to music. But as I grew up it became my constant companion when I wanted to escape from the reality of the harsh world. Music did not really save me, it just made me remember to keep on moving.

I hovered the mouse pointer over that one song I made after all that had happened with Jeonghan and I in high school; that song I written when I left my best friend - and the man I love - and came back to America. I double-clicked the file and I heard the strumming of the guitar and after a while the room was filled with my voice.

Can I come back to the place I call home?

To the place where you are waiting for me.

Are you gonna welcome me back home?

I stood up, walked to the door leading to the veranda, unlocked it, and went outside. The music still reached my ears but I could not make out the lyrics anymore because of the noises that came from the street three floors below. In my heart I knew that I made the song in a desperate attempt to relieve myself from the longing of being away from Jeonghan. It was my desperate attempt to take off my mind from what was happening to me at that moment.

That was my first try with music. And it helped me to keep on going.

***

“Where is he?” I calmly asked.

The woman in front of me gave me a weak smile and reached out for my hands. “Let’s get you settled first. It was a tiring flight, right?”

I knew she was trying to ease my worries but what she was doing was not helping at all. “I asked you where is he!” I swatted her hands away from mine and I saw the hurt on her face.

“He is in his room,” she sighed.

“What number?” I was already making my way towards the building.

“Private 309,” she was trailing right behind me, conscious of the fact that I did not want her walking beside me.

“And the other one?” My bag almost fell out of my shoulder so I tightened my grip on it. But maybe, it was my way of trying to contain my anger and worry.

“That…” She did not get to finish her answer, or rather she really did not finish it.

“You’re telling me you didn’t do anything about him!?” My voice was filled with anger as I stopped on my track and looked at her dead on the eyes. I was so full of it. “Why?”

She looked away.

I grabbed her shoulders and made her look at me. “Tell me why!? Yo