Parking in the North Loop was always a freaking pain in the . By some miracle, Kyungsoo only had to circle the neighborhood for ten minutes before he found a spot a mere block and a half away from Westerberg’s Bar and Lounge. As he pulled his guitar from his trunk, he regretted not swapping out the hard case he used when traveling for a soft case he could strap over his back. A block and a half no longer seemed so miraculous.

 

By the time he reached the two-story brick building, his guitar had gained a hundred pounds and his hand would have to be amputated. He’d have to learn how to play the piano with his feet if he wanted to stay in the band. Already mourning the loss of his appendage and career, the sight of a white cargo van with a crumpled back bumper pissed him off. Jongdae was the worst damn driver--did you see the crumpled back bumper--but somehow he always found rockstar parking. He decided not to kick the van’s tires out of spite. He couldn’t risk damaging his feet if he was going to restart his career as a piano player.

 

In front of the door, he shifted his guitar case from one hand to another. Just as he stretched out his free hand to grasp the handle, the heavy, wooden door swung open. Kyungsoo was forced to dodge to the side to avoid being hit by the door and the tall man who’d opened it.

 

With his back to Kyungsoo, the man laughed and said to someone in the bar, “I’ll see you at check-in. Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”

 

From inside the bar, a voice--Baekhyun’s voice--said, “No, you’ll have to catch up.”

 

The man barked with laughter and with his back still turned to Kyungsoo, headed down the sidewalk.

 

Unnoticed and paralyzed, Kyungsoo was helpless to do more than study the man as he walked away. His hair was back to its natural blue-black. It looked soft and healthy, not a brittle haystack like the last time Kyungsoo had seen it. His black hoodie was still oversized, but underneath it, his shoulders were straight and strong. He’d lost the hunch he’d crumpled into everywhere except on stage. And as he walked, he swung his arms and legs confidently, like he was in a music video and about to start dancing the moment the break hit.

 

The guitar no longer felt heavy in Kyungsoo’s hand.

 

Chanyeol looked happy.

 

Kyungsoo swung the case back and forth a few times and felt as though he too could start dancing. This was almost all that he’d ever wanted--Chanyeol standing tall and feeling happy.

 

***

 

It wasn’t until he was stepping into the bar that the questions hit him. Why was Chanyeol here? Had he moved back? Baekhyun and Jongdae--how had they reacted to seeing Chanyeol again? Well, he’d seen the end of their reunion, and it’d obviously gone well. But...had they known he’d be here? Had they been in touch without telling Kyungsoo? Had they planned on getting together before the show? And what did Chanyeol mean about seeing them at check-in?

 

“What the hell? Shut the door. You're letting all the cold air in,” a loud voice--Jongdae’s--said from inside the bar.

 

Kyungsoo realized he was still standing in the open doorway, one foot in, one foot out. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts and organize his feelings, but he’d been seen. He couldn’t just turn around now. He took a step to cross the threshold and let the door swing shut behind him.

 

He needed to snap out of it. He’d worked too hard for too many years to hide his feelings for Chanyeol to lose it now. He relaxed his facial muscles and put on the appearance of disinterest. It was as familiar and comfortable as the battered, leather jacket he wore.

 

He looked around as he ventured further into the newly remodeled bar. He hadn’t been in Westerberg’s in over a year. The landmark restaurant had decayed into a dive under the previous owner who hadn’t believed in remodeling or even cleaning. For years, his friend Jun Kim had complained about the state of the bar. If he was very drunk, he’d declare that he would either buy the place and restore it or burn it all down.

 

Kyungsoo turned in a slow circle, taking in the dark wood floors, paneled walls, and u-shaped bar. Jun had done good, and best of all, he wasn’t in jail for arson. Westerberg’s looked solid. This wasn’t a high-end nightclub. This was a bar for grungy indie bands to play for an even grungier audience. It looked like it could survive armageddon or worse--a Friday night crowd buzzed on hormones, booze, and music.

 

At some point, while he was looking around, Jongdae had disappeared. In his place, Jun appeared on the stage carrying two mic stands.

 

Jun smiled like he’d expected to see Kyungsoo. “Hey, man, good to see you,” he said. He abandoned the stands, crossed the stage, and jumped the three feet to the floor.  

 

Kyungsoo met him in the middle of the room with a handshake that turned into a bro hug. Jun was one of his favorite people, and he hadn’t seen him in the five months since Sub Unit left to record in Santa Fe. As good as it had felt to eat dinner with his folks last night, it felt that good to see Jun again.

 

Jun had worked as the booking manager at The Entry for years. If he hadn’t given them multiple chances to prove themselves, Sub Unit would never have gotten the deal with or the gig opening for The 1975. So when Jun had asked them to headline his opening night show, Minseok, their manager, charmed ’s A&R guy into giving them an unplanned, two-week vacation.

 

Kyungsoo pulled away and swept his arm to indicate the bar as a whole. “The place looks great. I can’t believe you did all this in just a couple months.”

 

Jun just shook his head with a pleased smile and pointed at the bar. “Want something?”

 

Kyungsoo followed him to the bar. “A water would be great.” He set his guitar next to the bar and sat on a black, leather stool.

 

Jun sat next to him and shouted, “Yixing, you back there?”

 

After a moment, a man popped up from the other side of the center island. His black hair stuck out in clumps, and his eyes were heavy-lidded.

 

“Grab two waters for me then get out of here. I told you not to come in until five with the rest of the crew.”

 

Yixing managed to yawn and roll his eyes at the same time before disappearing behind the bar. He popped up again with two water bottles. He eyed Kyungsoo sleepily and hovered next to them until Jun jerked his thumb in the direction of the front door.

 

Watching the man amble out the front door, Kyungsoo chuckled. “Are you still recruiting your employees from the Asian Student Association?”

 

Jun snorted. “It’s called networking, and it isn’t just for white people.”

 

Kyungsoo exchanged knowing smiles with Jun, but as other thoughts gained volume, his smile faded. Kyungsoo glanced over his shoulder at the stage. The space was quiet and Baekhyun and Jongdae-free so he asked, “Just now, was that Chanyeol Park I saw leaving the bar?”

 

Jun twisted off the cap from his bottle and took a swig. “That’s right. Chanyeol said you went to high school together. He wasn’t sure you’d remember him.”

 

It hurt like being elbowed in the gut to be reminded that he wasn’t close to Chanyeol. Kyungsoo really was just someone who went to high school with Chanyeol. That fact knocked the air out of his lungs and left a bruise. But he’d taken worse hits, and he recovered quickly.

 

He opened his own water bottle and took a sip. “He was really tight with Baekhyun and Jongdae. I was kind of on the periphery. You know, the quiet kid who glared at everyone.”

 

He was so good at telling half-truths. The whole truth was that he orbited around Chanyeol the way Pluto orbited around the sun--always at a distance, always watching the light and longing for warmth, and never able to pull away.

 

He took another swig of water. “I thought he’d moved to Texas. Didn’t he produce some tracks with Bon Iver or Jason Isbell or someone?

 

“Yeah, he’s in Austin and has his own studio down there. When I heard he was going to be in town, I asked if he’d take a set tonight. He’s playing right before you.”

 

Minseok calling his name kept Kyungsoo from physically reacting to the news, but in his head, the words, “He’s playing right before you,” replayed on a loop.

 

Minseok jerked his chin in the direction of the front door. “I need help unloading the van.”

 

Kyungsoo clenched his jaw to keep from saying the words, “He’s playing right before us.” He managed to nod and stand.

 

“I’ll help,” Jun said as he slid off his stool.

 

Kyungsoo took a step toward Minseok.

 

Chanyeol’s playing right before us.

 

Minseok sighed softly. “Where are Baekhyun and Jongdae?”

 

Chanyeol’s playing--

 

The curtains at the back of the stage were flung open, and Jongdae ran across and jumped off the stage with a shout. Baekhyun was two steps behind. He caught up and bumped Jongdae’s shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. He shouted in triumph as he took the lead. Jongdae recovered and sprinted past Baekhyun to reach the door first. He threw his weight against it and the tumbled out. Baekhyun crashed into him in the doorway and they landed in a heap on the sidewalk. The door slowly shut behind them.

 

Minseok turned to Jun, probably to apologize, but Jun just laughed and slung his arm over Minseok’s shoulder.

 

Chanyeol’s playing right before us.

 

Kyungsoo trailed after Minseok and Jun as they headed to the door.

 

Next to the van, Jongdae and Baekhyun celebrated and pouted. Minseok apologized to Jun for unloading at the front door and suggested he drive around to the back. Jun just waved him off and grabbed one of Jongdae’s drums from the open side of the van.

 

Chanyeol’s playing…

 

Was it just Chanyeol, or had he put together a band? Would he play his old songs or would he play something new? Were they happy, carefree love songs like he’d written when he was just starting out? Would they be dark and filled with loss and loneliness like the ones just before he moved?

 

Kyungsoo’s body ran on autopilot. He’d been loading and unloading vans full of musical instruments and equipment since he was seventeen. It didn’t take much conscious thought to grab something and carry it. Within ten minutes the van was empty, and they were up on the stage unpacking and setting up.

 

When Jun called his name, he flinched and dropped the cable he was unwinding.

 

Jun was near the back of the stage helping Jongdae set up his kit. “I started to tell you the line-up for tonight. Polly in the Pocket--have you heard them? They’re getting a ton of airplay on college radio. Very DIY, twee-pop like Superorganism. You’ll like them. They open at eight. Spygame comes on after them. You played with them at The Entry, right?”

 

“And The Triple Rock.” Baekhyun shot Kyungsoo an evil smirk from his seat on the edge of the stage where he was tuning his bass. “Soo’s a fan.”

 

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. He was a fan. He loved their Hammond organ-heavy, retro sound. He loved being in Sub Unit and playing with Jongdae and Baekhyun, but if he’d gone solo or started his own band, it’d probably sound a lot like Spygame.

 

Baekhyun’s smirk was for the time he walked in on Kyungsoo talking with Spygame’s organist in The Triple Rock’s greenroom. Baekhyun had given them a weird look and left the room without even saying hi. When Kyungsoo had tried to explain later--Henry was selling his old organ, and Kyungsoo was interested in looking at it--Baekhyun had wiggled his eyebrows and made woo-sounds. “Checking out Henry’s organ” became an inside joke, and Baekhyun and Jongdae tormented him with it for months. Even Minseok would snicker at it.

 

Jun looked amused as he finished setting up the stand for Jongdae’s snare drum. He handed it to Jongdae and said, “Then Chanyeol plays right before you.”

 

Kyungsoo flicked his gaze back and forth between Baekhyun at the front and Jongdae at the back of the stage trying to gauge their feelings about Chanyeol’s appearance in town and on the bill. They looked happy, and their excited grins didn’t fade into the grim expressions they’d worn right before Chanyeol moved away.

 

The three had been best friends since junior high. They were annoying troublemakers who were routinely kicked out of classes, school, and bars and restaurants. If they were together in a place that required quiet and polite behavior, it was only a matter of time before they’d be asked to leave.

 

Kyungsoo had been in the middle of the continuum between those who encouraged their shenanigans and those completely intolerant of their misbehavior. Chanyeol’s boyfriend/manager was hard-core in his intolerance. By the time Chanyeol moved with him to Austin, interactions with the Baekhyun and Jongdae were restricted to silent nods from across the room.

 

And Kyungsoo had always been there, watching from the wings. It sounded so creepy. He looked away and caught Jun regarding him with a curious look in his warm eyes.

 

Kyungsoo plugged in his guitar and double-checked his tuning. How ridiculous would it be if someone after ten years had finally noticed his feelings for Chanyeol?

 

He ran his hand over the fretboard just feeling the strings under his fingertips. Then, he struck a chord and another. As he rearranged his fingers, he realized he was playing “Norwegian Wood.” It had been the first song he’d learned when his parents had given in to his begging and bought him a guitar for his fifteenth birthday--his begging that had begun after listening to Chanyeol play “Norwegian Wood.”

 

The first person Kyungsoo had seen when he walked into the choir room on his first day of high school was the smiling boy with the dyed-red hair. He’d stared for a moment, squinting because he’d taken off his glasses in the hopes he wouldn’t be labeled a nerd right away. When he realized what he was doing, he looked away. But it wasn’t more than twenty seconds before he was sneaking another glance in the other boy’s direction. It had been that way ever since.

 

He couldn’t help his feelings. He was drawn to the happiness and mischief in Chanyeol’s eyes, the loudness of his laugh, and the kindness of his words and actions. Chanyeol was unflagging optimism and enthusiasm. It wasn’t that he looked at the world through rose-colored glasses. Chanyeol didn’t need a filter to see the best in others and the world around him. To him, that was just the world. And to Kyungsoo, Chanyeol was the world.

 

A few months later, Kyungsoo had discovered Chanyeol playing his guitar in the choir room. He sat on a stool facing the empty room. He was bent over his guitar so Kyungsoo could only see the top of his head. The song was pretty and vaguely familiar, but he didn’t know its name or who had written it. The moment might have passed as just another interesting thing about Chanyeol Park if he hadn’t looked up as he transitioned from the verse to the chorus.

 

Kyungsoo had thought he’d seen Chanyeol look happy before, but now he knew what joy looked like. Chanyeol’s smile was wide, but not stretched in a crazy grin. His eyes shone, but not with playfulness. Later, Kyungsoo would search the dictionary for words to describe the emotion he thought Chanyeol had felt as he played--they were all old-fashioned words he’d be embarrassed to say like elation, euphoria, delight, and jubilation.

 

He’d stood outside the choir room, his heart beating as loudly as the notes Chanyeol plucked from his guitar. He wanted to walk through the door and join Chanyeol, but he couldn’t move. How could he when he didn’t know the name of that song, how to play the guitar, or how to start a conversation?

 

He told himself he could approach Chanyeol after he learned how to play that song and a dozen more and after he learned how to talk to strangers like Chanyeol’s loud friends. It took a year and a half before he finally felt ready. Then, in a conversation with those loud friends, he learned that Chanyeol was already dating someone. His boyfriend was older, handsome, successful, and had promised to make Chanyeol a star.

 

So Kyungsoo loved Chanyeol from a distance, and he was happy. He was happy because Chanyeol seemed so happy in his love and his ambitions. Occasionally, Chanyeol reached out to him, inviting him to be something more than just a classmate, an acquaintance, a friend of a friend, but Kyungsoo kept his distance. He didn’t trust himself not to let his love show. The last thing he wanted to do was push his unwanted feelings on Chanyeol. Unlike the narrator of “Norwegian Wood,” Kyungsoo didn’t blame Chanyeol for not loving back. He didn’t want to make him feel awkward or obligated, and he definitely didn’t want to hurt him.

 

He may not have had Chanyeol’s love, but he’d gained so much. If he hadn’t fallen in love with Chanyeol, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with music. Before Chanyeol, he sang in the choir because his mom wanted him to take an art elective. Now, music was his life, and it brought him something like the joy he had seen on Chanyeol’s face that day in the choir room.

 

As he continued to play the intro, he vaguely noticed Baekhyun playing George Harrison’s sitar part on his bass.

 

There was no reason to think Jun had discovered Kyungsoo’s secret, but discovery was something he’d feared from the beginning. He was afraid that if someone else knew, he’d be forced to acknowledge the hopelessness of his feelings and be pressured to move on. As long as no one knew, Kyungsoo could keep this unspoken, unexpressed love forever.

 

“I once had a girl/Or should I say, she once had me?” Minseok sang as they started the first verse.

 

Kyungsoo looked up in surprise. His ugly grin spread across his face--the one that smushed his eyes into crescents and crinkled his nose. Each time Minseok sang, it was rare and precious. Nodes on his vocal chords had cut his career short, and he limited the amount he sang to preserve what was left of his voice. Kyungsoo’s grin changed into soft laughter when Jongdae and Jun’s voices joined Minseok.

 

He let the perfection of this moment wash over him--the sweetness of the melody, the perfect harmony of Jongdae, Minseok, and Jun’s voices, the calm look of concentration on hyperactive Baekhyun’s face, and the joy of creating art with the people he cared about. Silently, he thanked Chanyeol for opening the door to this world for him.

 

***

 

The moment may have been perfect, but it was also brief. Jun made the mistake of suggesting Sub Unit play the song during the show and accidentally hitting play on the argument between Baekhyun and Jongdae over which songs to put on their set list. It wasn’t Jun’s fault. He didn’t know they were opinionated s locked in a debate that would only end when the band broke up.

 

Kyungsoo always stayed out of it. His self-appointed job was to pull his reporter’s notebook from his back pocket and write down the song titles Baekhyun and Jongdae bludgeoned each other with.

 

For the last month, they’d been playing a thirty-minute set as the opening act for a famous band. Their job had been to not piss off the audience while they waited for The 1975 to take the stage. If they made any new fans, that was just a bonus.

 

Headlining a show at a medium-sized bar for an audience of friends and fans was a completely different gig. When they had first started headlining, Minseok had given them a few guidelines for filling a sixty-minute show--include two or three covers, only play one or two new songs, and always give the audience what they want.

 

Once Baekhyun and Jongdae had named enough songs to fill ninety minutes, and Kyungsoo had added a few of his own favorites, he decided to break up the fight. He quietly said the title of his choice for the first song and counted out the beat. Somehow Baekhyun and Jongdae heard him over their bickering and joined him with the first strum of his guitar.

 

“Life Will Write” was one of the first songs they had written together, and it had gone through multiple transformations as they’d slowly found their own sound. It was now one of their strongest pieces and definitely the most recognizable for the local audience. It felt right to declare in their first show since getting national recognition that they were still hometown boys and proud to be so.

 

They didn’t need to run through the whole song, just the first verse and chorus. At nods of approval from both Jongdae and Baekhyun, Kyungsoo flipped to a fresh sheet of paper and wrote down the first song of their set.

 

He was just putting down his pen when he heard Baekhyun sing, “Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no.” When Jongdae joined in, Kyungsoo knew there was no point in protesting. Baekhyun lived to rearrange R&B ballads for their indie rock trio and make Kyungsoo belt out love songs. He took a deep breath and added “Crazy In Love” as their second song. Since they hadn’t played it for a couple of months, they ran through the Beyonce cover a few times.

 

Kyungsoo tried to stay in the moment as they rehearsed. Instead, he examined each song, each verse, each chorus, break, and riff through his “Chanyeol Filter.” All he could think about was how it would sound to Chanyeol, what he would think of it, and how it would make him feel.

 

After his voice cracked the second time, Kyungsoo asked for a break. He knew the songs were solid, the band was tight, and that for some reason, people liked his voice and the way he played. In the last year, he’d had more than enough validation from fans, reporters, and other musicians that he shouldn’t be questioning any of this. But his confidence was ebbing as he scrutinized every detail and tried to make his performance perfect. He took a deep breath. He needed to calm the down.

 

He managed to get through another forty-five minutes. He felt limp with relief when Baekhyun and Jongdae finally agreed the set was good enough. As Minseok looked over the list, Kyungsoo stretched his arms over his head hoping to ease the tension in his shoulders and neck.

 

I’m not supposed to be here.

 

He dropped his arms to his side.

 

If Chanyeol hadn’t been lured away from their trio by his boyfriend’s promises of stardom, he would be standing on this stage with Baekhyun and Jongdae, not Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo was just the understudy who stepped in when the star left for a better role. Even when they’d named him lead singer, that feeling hadn’t gone away. Jongdae had a stronger voice and Baekhyun had more charisma than he did. This year as they’d gained fans and recognition, he’d thought he’d managed to bury these feelings, but--

 

I really shouldn’t be here.

 

How did Baekhyun and Jongdae feel about sharing the stage with Chanyeol? Were they just excited to see an old friend, or did they wish things could have been different?

 

Baekhyun had moved to the back of the stage and was talking quietly with Jongdae. Kyungsoo caught Jongdae glancing at him. The smile Jongdae gave him was small and didn’t make it to his eyes.

 

And just like that, Kyungsoo was back to being the quiet kid standing in the doorway.

 

Kyungsoo pulled his guitar strap over his head. He had to get out of here.

 

He cleared his throat a few times as he tucked his strat in its case. When he was all packed up, he walked to the edge of the stage where Jun and Minseok looked over the set list. “If you don’t need me to help move everything backstage, I’m gonna head out.” He cleared his throat again when Minseok frowned at him. “My folks were hoping we could have dinner before I had to be back here for the show.” He hated lying, especially to Minseok, but he didn’t feel like he had the time to negotiate or persuade. He needed to go. Now.

 

Minseok’s expression softened. “Go ahead. Just be here by six.” Minseok looked at Jun who nodded. “It’s a good set. You’re going to kill it tonight so just relax and enjoy your mom’s food.”

 

Jun put his hand on Kyungsoo’s guitar case. “Leave this here. I’ll make sure it’s safe until you return.”

 

Kyungsoo managed to give Minseok and Jun an almost genuine smile.

 

Before he jumped off the stage, Kyungsoo glanced back at Baekhyun and Jongdae. Deep in conversation, they weren’t looking at him and hadn’t noticed he’d packed up. He nodded to himself. They had more important things to think about. With one last forced smile, he left behind his guitar, his mentor, his manager, and his bandmates.

 

***

 

A/N

Thank you so much for reading! :)