As they exited the back hallway, Eric, Spygame’s lead singer, intercepted them. The look he gave Kyungsoo as he pulled Henry away was angry and scornful. Kyungsoo stopped and watched for a moment. What had he done to earn that look? Eric held a half-sheet of paper and it at Henry’s chest. Henry took it, and his eyebrows furrowed as he read it.

 

Kyungsoo sighed and looked down at the glass in his hand. It was empty except for the lime wedge and half-melted ice cubes. It may not have been broken, but now it wasn't good for anything more than holding trash. He could only clean up one mess at a time. He'd figure out what had pissed off Eric and put that look on Henry's face after he told someone about the spill in the green room.

 

All the stools at the bar were filled, so he joined the crowd waiting to be served at the round end of the u-shaped bar. When someone pushed between him and the man in front of him, he was forced to back up and bumped into someone. He turned to apologize and saw he'd knocked into one of the waitstaff. Thankfully, her tray was empty, and he hadn't caused her to spill her drinks. Her angry expression flipped into a too-friendly smile.

 

Kyungsoo winced. All he wanted to do was apologize. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. Were you trying to get a drink?” She pointed at his empty glass. “I’ll take that and get you whatever you want.”

 

She was clearly busy and was only offering because he was in the band. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t mind waiting. He tried to dredge up the energy to do the right thing, but he was exhausted. “Yeah. Uh, I wanted to let someone know I spilled water on the rug in the green room, and I’d love a beer. I’ll try whatever you recommend.”

 

“I know just what you’d like. Be right back, sugar,” she said with a wink.

 

God, did she think he was flirting with her? He sighed again and turned toward the stage. From his vantage point, he could see Wendy and another band member pulling toys out of a box and putting them on a cloth-covered table.

 

A hand waved in front of his face, and he jerked his head back in surprise.

 

A dimple-free Yixing held out another glass of a clear liquid with ice and a lime. “What are you doing bothering my staff members? I thought I told you I’d take care of you tonight.”

 

Kyungsoo accepted the glass reluctantly. “I just wanted a beer.” He took a sip. Water.

 

“You don’t want a beer,” Yixing said. “I’ve let all the other bartenders know what your standing order is, so don’t ask anyone else.”

 

“I’m not an alcoholic, Yixing. I just didn’t want to drink--”

 

“That’s right. You didn’t want to drink, and I’m making your wish come true. You can thank me later. Right now I’m too busy,” Yixing said and walked away.

 

Kyungsoo lifted the glass and stared at it. Another fragile thing to take care of.

 

“Kyungsoo,” a voice said from behind him.

 

Recognizing Baekhyun’s voice, Kyungsoo’s shoulders fell. He didn’t want to deal with this now. He stiffened his spine and straightened his shoulder. He didn’t want to deal with this now.

 

The spot Yixing had stood in was still open, and Baekhyun could have moved into it. He didn't. Was it that he didn't want to talk face-to-face, or was he waiting for Kyungsoo to turn and face him? This felt like one of Baekhyun and Jongdae's arguments over the set list and best album. Would Baekhyun win if he forced Kyungsoo to turn around? Usually, Kyungsoo didn’t play these games with Baekhyun and Jongdae. The glass of ice water felt cold in his hand. He always just did what they wanted. What would happen if he didn’t turn around and face Baekhyun? He took a sip of water and waited.

 

Baekhyun cleared his throat and said, “We need to talk. Come back to the green room.”

 

That was one question answered. Baekhyun preferred to talk to his back rather than stand where Kyungsoo could see him. And now he wanted Kyungsoo to go to the green room so they could talk. If it were like every other "talk" they’d had since high school, Baekhyun and Jongdae would talk, and Kyungsoo would listen and try to do whatever they told him to do.

 

The bar thrummed with conversation, laughter, and the 80’s garage rock mix playing over the PA. A steady stream of people moved between the main floor and the bar. Kyungsoo felt as though he and Baekhyun stood on an island around which the noise and traffic flowed. This feeling of isolation gave him the courage to attempt another experiment. What would Baekhyun do if Kyungsoo didn’t agree to go with him and talk? He shook his head and said, “Now isn’t a good time for me.”

 

“Not a good time?” Baekhyun said each word slowly, carefully, as though he were speaking to a small child.

 

Spurred on by Baekhyun’s reaction, he said, “Anytime before now would have been a good time. Now feels a little too late. Or maybe it’s too early.”

 

“Soo,” Baekhyun said with the irritated condescension of a teacher scolding a student, not the concern of a friend trying to clear up a misunderstanding.

 

"You and Jongdae plan and do whatever you want, and I'm just the replacement who always obeys. But you don't get to decide this. I'm not talking to you now. If you don't want to explain to Minseok and Jun why Unit why I quit, you--" He clamped his mouth shut, startled that he'd actually said what he was thinking. He’d worked so damn hard and done everything they’d asked of him, but now it was all falling apart. Standing on the edge of the unknown made him feel reckless. “Maybe that’s what you want. Keep talking, Baekhyun, and tell me you're planning to replace the replacement.”

 

“Fine, we’ll talk later, but--”

 

“Later.” His chest and throat muscles were so tense, his voice came out harsh and raspy. He paused and waited--for Baekhyun to say something else, for him to finally move to face Kyungsoo, even for him to walk away--but he did nothing.

 

Kyungsoo took this as his cue to leave. He worked his way through the crowd to stand near the stage. Even as people jostled against each other in the packed room, he felt isolated and alone.

 

“Have you seen Polly in the Pocket before?” the woman next to him asked.

 

Relieved to have someone to talk to, he turned with a smile and recognized her immediately. CL was an important figure in the local scene. She had a weekly column in The Star Tribune and hosted the rush hour slot on the indie radio station. Years ago, they’d been introduced at a party. She’d called him “kid” and included him in her conversation with an A&R guy from EMI.

 

He shook his head. “Nope. Just heard them on the radio. If I'd known they were playing tonight, I would’ve listened to their album.”

 

“Yeah, the third track off their EP is getting a lot of airplay. If that’s all you’ve heard, you’re missing out on the context of the song.”

 

“So, it’s a concept album...”

 

“Yeah, it’s the coming-of-age story of a college freshman from moving into the dorms to going home for Christmas break.” She extended her hand. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m CL. Jun introduced us a few years ago.”

 

He couldn't stop his ugly smile from spreading across his face. “Of course I remember. You gave me my first and last cigar.”

 

She laughed and punched his shoulder. “You remember that?”

 

“It was disgusting. How could I forget?”

 

“You’ve done well since we talked last.” She tilted her head as she examined his face. Her eyes grew serious. “How’re you doing?”

 

The rush of gratitude at her kindness brought with it emotions he didn’t want to feel right now. He tried to swallow them down.

 

She turned and looked at the stage. “Whatever’s coming next, it isn’t going to be easy. The only thing you can control is you, kid. Don’t twist yourself into something you don’t recognize trying to fit in. If you aren’t solidly yourself, you’re not going to make it.” She cleared and turned back to him. "So take care of yourself, okay?

 

He struggled to say something intelligent, but all he could manage was a sigh.

 

“Hey, that was good advice. And it didn’t come for free.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a business card. “I expect a call from you or Minseok. The programming manager and I want you on for an interview and a micro-show.”

 

While he tucked the card in his pocket, Jun took the stage. For the first time in a long time, Kyungsoo noticed how attractive he was. Standing on stage, he had the presence of a rock star. The audience erupted in shouts, whistles, and applause. Kyungsoo cupped his hands around his mouth and chanted “Jun, Jun, Jun” with the others in the crowd. Jun tilted his head back and laughed.

 

“Thanks, guys. Thank you all for coming out and supporting Westerberg’s. You all know what this bar has meant to me over the years, and I’m glad  you all could be here for our opening night show.” He smiled at the burst of shouting and clapping. When it died down, he said, “We have a great line-up for you tonight. Please give a warm welcome to Boston’s Polly in the Pocket.” He swung out his arm, and the members of Polly took the stage to applause from the audience.

 

There were only nine members of the band, not a dozen like Kyungsoo had thought. They obviously enjoyed playing together and were having fun. The two members at the table added the sound of toy truck engines, baby rattles, and the clicking of a viewfinder toy to the melody played on the guitar, keyboard, and ukeleles. They didn’t have a lead vocalist. They either sang together as a chorus or took turns like the members of a k-pop girl group. It made the songs feel more universal. They were all a college freshman coping with loneliness and learning how to be an adult.

 

They were finishing their third song when somebody crowded into Kyungsoo’s side and slung their arm around his shoulders. He tried to pull away as he turned his head to see who was invading his space.

 

Minseok’s face was just inches from Kyungsoo's. His jaw was clenched so tightly the muscles under his ear bulged. Feeling his hands begin to shake, Kyungsoo closed his left hand into a fist and tightened his grip on his glass with his right. He’d seen Minseok angry before but never at him. What had he done to make Minseok like this? He took a deep, shaky breath.

 

With his hands on Kyungsoo's shoulders, Minseok forced him to turn toward the far side of the bar and take a step forward. Kyungsoo stumbled but avoided bumping into CL. A surge of embarrassment swept away some of his fear. Why would Minseok treat him this way? No matter what he’d done, no matter how angry Minseok was, he didn’t deserve to be pushed around and embarrassed.

 

As he slipped through the crowd, Minseok’s hands never left his shoulders. Once they reached the back hallway, Minseok shoved him forward one more time before brushing by him.

 

He realized he was still holding his water glass and considered leaving it behind. But there weren't any waitstaff around to hand it too, and he didn't want to leave it on the floor to be kicked over or broken. He'd have to bring it along wherever Minseok was taking him. For the first time since Minseok had bought them McDonald’s and offered to be Unit’s manager, he didn’t want to follow where Minseok led. That feeling didn’t change even when Minseok went through the back door into the alley instead of up the stairs to the green room.

 

After the bright stage lights and loud music in the bar, the quiet darkness of the alley was jarring. The only light came from a streetlamp halfway down the block, and the sound of music was muffled by the bar’s thick, brick walls.

 

With much of his face cast in shadow, Minseok looked even angrier and more intimidating than he had in the bar.

 

Though he was afraid of the answer, Kyungsoo needed to understand what he’d done to make Minseok so angry at him. He drew another shaky breath and asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

“What’s wrong?” Minseok’s tone of voice was mocking. “Baekhyun and Jongdae are freaking out in the green room. You need to get over yourself and fix whatever is the matter.”

 

The air left his lungs in a whoosh as though Minseok had tackled him and left him gasping on the asphalt. Had he heard that right?  At a loss, he said, “What? Why…” He trailed off as Minseok’s eyes narrowed at him.

 

“What is your problem tonight? You’ve been acting like a diva all day. First, you leave early from rehearsal. And when you get back, you won’t hang out with Baekhyun and Jongdae. Instead, you hold court at the bar and let people come and pay their respects to you. I’d thought you were the one who would keep their head when they got successful. I am so disappointed in you.”

 

Each word felt like a knife. He’d worked so hard to earn Minseok’s approval and respect, but after one night, Minseok took it all back. Maybe he'd never had them in the first place. And what he'd done--choosing to sit at the bar and not giving in to Baekhyun and Jongdae--was it really that bad? Did it warrant this much anger?

 

He drew in a lungful of air. No. He exhaled. Nothing he’d done tonight deserved this much anger. It wasn't his fault that Minseok was angry. And if he hadn't made Minseok angry, was there anything he could do to calm him down?

 

For the second time since entering the alley, the world shifted under his feet.

 

He’d heard people say, “You can’t control what other people do or feel," more times than he could count. Hell, CL had told him something like that minutes ago. Hearing it always made him feel powerless and vulnerable, and he would dismiss it without really considering what it meant. He just needed to work harder to please everyone, and they'd...

 

They’d what? He stifled the urge to laugh at himself. What exactly did he think he was getting others to do? Like him? Approve of him? Never leave him?

 

His grip on the water glass tightened for a moment then relaxed. For the first time, he felt free at the thought that he had no control. The painful tension he'd felt in his chest and throat since his talk with Baekhyun eased, and he sighed with relief.

 

Minseok widened his eyes momentarily. Then, he shook his head and stared down the alley.

 

They stood together in silence until Kyungsoo realized the music had switched from Polly to an 80's garage band. By some terrible coincidence, Hüsker Dü's "Never Talking To You Again" was playing over the PA.  

 

Kyungsoo pulled the business card out of his pocket and held it out to Minseok. “CL wants Unit to go in for an interview and micro-show. You should talk to your members about it.”

 

Minseok turned and looked at the card but didn’t take it. Kyungsoo hadn’t thought he could be more surprised, but somehow he was. Minseok could be harsh when he got fed up with Baekhyun and Jongdae’s bickering and roughhousing, but he was always professional when it came to promoting Unit. Kyungsoo’s mind spun uselessly, trying to figure out how to deal with Minseok’s refusal to take the card or look Kyungsoo in the eye. Then, he remembered. He didn’t have to do anything.

 

He put CL’s card back in his pocket and leaned against the wall next to the door. What Minseok would do next? He was curious, but also a little afraid. The fear made his throat feel dry, and he took a small sip of water.

 

That seemed to trigger something in Minseok. He strode across the alley, pulled open the door, and disappeared inside the bar.

 

A voice in Kyungsoo’s head shouted at him to chase after Minseok, but he didn't give in to it. He couldn’t fix anything if he tried.

 

He tipped his head back and looked up at the slice of sky between Westerberg's and the warehouse across the alley. Light pollution kept him from seeing the stars, but he knew they were up there. They felt more real than the asphalt under his feet or the brick wall against his back.

 

He was still afraid of Minseok’s anger, of Baekhyun and Jongdae’s betrayal, and of Chanyeol’s discovery of his feelings. But that fear was counterbalanced by curiosity and a frisson of excitement. Now that he wasn’t weighed down by the obsessive need to fix everything--everybody--he felt untethered and feather-light, as though anything could send him flying through the dark-gray sky to join the unseen stars.

 

***

 

Thanks for reading! :)