Knock. Knock. Knock.

Henry groaned and his side.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

That neighbor again? “I’m not even playing!” He moans loudly, face pressed against his pillow, for a while there’s a nice silence and he falls rightly to bed.

Knock... Knock...

Henry huffed and nearly tripped over the laid carpet, hastily getting up as he runs to his door. It’s the middle of the night, what could his neighbor possibly have to say? Damn it, if he involved the police again, he couldn’t afford another fine.

He finally reached the door and pulled it open, a gust of cold air enveloping his bare shoulders. And his anger nearly subsides, scrunching his eyes at the figure whose face is barely lit from the dim lights outside.

“Sungmin?”

Sungmin gave an uneasy smile, “I’m sorry, I know it’s late but I couldn’t get through to your cell.”

“Oh, oh right, it’s um, on silent.” Henry quickly welcomed him inside. Sungmin took off his shoes at the messy entrance way and followed inside. It’s a cramp studio apartment, Sungmin can make out the shape of the pull-out bed and stands by.

“Did...” Henry begins. Did something happen? Of course it had to, Henry answers.

“Just a fight,”

Henry’s cell almost rang right after Sungmin speaks. Henry didn’t have to look at Sungmin’s mouthed words and answers, “He isn’t here.”

Though it’s dark, Henry’s sure of the fear in his eyes. The caller hangs up on Henry, he tosses it on the table by the bed. He reaches for his guitar that’s propped on the edge of the bed and moves it, “You can sleep here.”

Sungmin doesn’t say anything and follows as Henry makes him room for him.

It’s 3:50 in the morning when a booming voice interrupts.

“Sungmin! Sungmin! COME OUT HERE!”

Henry opens the door and shoves the man who tries to bolt inside his apartment. “Didn’t I tell you already?”

The man stands up and tries to peer over Henry who blocks his view, the man’s furious eyes then train on him. “Stop hiding him from me! I know he’s here.”

“Get out.” Henry demands. He’s knocked by a punch to his stomach and hits the doorframe, he quickly recovers his stance.

The man’s thrown across the cemented floors. Henry drags him by his collar and forces him against the wall, “He. Isn’t. Here.” He then drops him too close by the stairs.

The enraged man scuffled off the ground, picking up his shattered pride and walks down the stairs from the second floor. Henry waits and hears the car start up and leave. When he returns inside, he closes the door and closes his eyes briefly from the scene. He felt too confident just then, but was glad it worked out okay.

“Henry, are you alright?”

Henry cranes his neck as he walks back to the bed, “I’m fine,” he assures Sungmin who sits up. “Are you?”

Sungmin nodded. Henry inhaled, sitting down beside Sungmin and pulling up the covers over the two of them. Sungmin laid his head on the pillow, his eyes still wide open as Henry kept his close.

“What if he-?”

“Shh, don’t think about it.” Henry softly says. “Sleep.”

Sungmin tries to take his advice, it appears he has so much to say to him, but doesn’t. Everything he wants to say is summarized by his short phrase, “I’m sorry,” he at last apologizes.

A short silence ensued between them.

“It’s fine, I’ve forgotten all about it anyhow.” Henry says, though the scene’s perfectly ingrained in his memory, he wished it was the one that wasn’t.

Sungmin seems to accept his answer and finally sleeps. Henry couldn’t.

-

At the pharmacy, he reads the back of some items before dropping them in his basket and checks out at the counter.

“Will that be all?”

“Um...” Henry looks back at the short, disorganized dvd rack and picks two discs and places them on the counter.

When he gets home, he walks in to see Sungmin stepping out of his bedroom. Henry hands him the bag, “there’s some ointment, medicated patches and cloths, I wasn’t sure which would help so I picked a bit of everything. Oh, and some,” Sungmin looked at the dvds inside. “Movies,” Henry adds.

Sungmin nodded as he went through the objects and settled back on the pull out couch, Henry looked him over. Sungmin noticed this, “sorry, I didn’t bring an extra set of clothes with me.”

That wasn’t what he was looking at, “that’s fine.”

It’s the following morning when the sun’s fully rose, that Henry sees the damage done. Obscured by his dark studio, he wasn’t able to tell Sungmin’s discolored arms, purple and black skin, a repetitive process of healing and harm.

Sungmin keeps his gaze on the bag, “Henry, you said... you said before it wouldn’t be a problem if I stayed. Do you still mean it?”

His uncertain tone tugs his heart strings. Has their relationship gotten to the point that Sungmin now doubted his offer?

“Of course,” Henry says upfront. “Is your phone number still the same?” Henry asks, Sungmin guilty nods. “What about your job?”

“I explained bits of it, my boss understood though I couldn't tell her everything. She's assigning me to the stockroom, and if he asks, they’ll lie and say I quit. If he persists, they’ll transfer me to another store. There’s enough in this city.”

Henry nods. “That’s good then.”

Sungmin’s remorse display in his eyes. Henry offers a smile, “I have some leftovers from last night, if you want to microwave them you can-”

“Henry,” Sungmin interrupts, and lowers his head. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t want to argue with you, I’m sorry I did-”

“Don’t apologize for that. The only reason we fought in the first place was because of-... It’s been so long already, ” Henry cleared his throat, the first and only time they ever fought was because of that guy.

The exact reason why they hadn’t seen each other in over six months since that fight.

Henry shoves the thought aside. “Are you working today? I’ll drop you off.”

Sungmin nods, “do you mind I use your shower beforehand?”

Henry gestures for him to go ahead, reaching for a fresh towel from the closet and hands him one.

“I know you meant well,” Sungmin says right by the bathroom’s door. “I was just acting too blind to see that.”

-

“What’s wrong?” Kangin asks.

Henry doesn’t hear the question however, and it takes a few snaps of Kangin’s fingers to awaken the co-worker. “Hmm?”

Kangin repeats his question, Henry looks up when a customer comes through. “Hold on,” Henry murmurs as he helps the customer whose luggage is prepped on the metal scale.

The airport is thankfully slow for the morning, and Henry looks back at Kangin once the customer is checked in. “Sungmin came back.”

Kangin isn’t the only one who notices his odd behavior, and Henry ends up repeating his count of events to his other friend once night approaches. Though his appearance changes, his mindset’s stuck nonetheless.

Ryeowook steps off the stage and heads to the bar counter, “check if we have extra straws, apparently the truck forgot that bit of the order.” He then returns his attention to Henry who sits on the floor with his back against the stage, guitar resting against his thigh.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Ryeowook asks after his rendition.

“It is,” Henry answers.

Unlike his friends, the club owner is the only one to know Henry’s commitment to Sungmin wasn’t just out of pure friendship. Still, Henry doesn’t feel like talking about it.

Ryeowook crosses his arms, “You still love him, don’t you?

The downcast Henry ignores him. “I really need to tune my guitar-”

“You’ve tuned it about a hundred times, now tell me. Is it?”

Henry stops, sitting back down on the floor. “Yes.”

“If you’ve been harboring feelings that long for him, shouldn’t something be done about this?”

“He is- was with someone else.”

“Past tense,” Ryeowook notes, “what’s the problem then? He’s single now,”

“You mean have him take me as a rebound.” Henry murmurs.

“It could start out that way, but if he held those feelings for you before, maybe they’re still there. Just dormant. And from what his ex sounds like, I doubt he loves him. And I doubt you’ll settle with just being a friend, that role will never be good enough for you.”

“Even if that were true, it doesn’t mean he has to still be in love with me either. And after what he’s been through, I’m not just going to force him into anything. At least, I shouldn’t.” Henry tilts his head upward, clutching the neck of his instrument. “What should I do?”

Ryeowook laughs and Henry doesn’t quite get the humor of the situation. “Ironic how you never listen to my advice anyhow. If you had listened when I said not to involve yourself with him, you wouldn’t be this turmoiled.”

“I meant to comfort him only, to help him like you did for me.” Henry argued. “I didn’t mean to fall for him.”

“It’s a little too late for that tune, isn’t it?”

Henry sighs, soon enough, the empty club opens and fills in with people.

It’s easier to lose himself to his music, not minding he’s not front and center stage, nor do many know his name or face. As long as he plays, life is a little easier to accept. And with each note that’s played, it’s like his mind’s making sense of it all.

It was a matter of bad timing all around. Henry observed the signs, and guessed each time that it displayed that Sungmin felt something for him.

Maybe like Henry, Sungmin felt he was being too overconfident of his observation, and assumes their friendly behavior as nothing more than friendship. Doubting that despite it all, there was still that chance he was wrong.

It could have been a number of factors that encourages Sungmin to take that leap of faith into a relationship, but with a guy he barely knows that night. The same night Henry had been convinced to admit Sungmin everything.

Is he content with this? The answer was obvious after he hits that final note.

“Sungmin’s safe,”

Ryeowook turns around and sees Henry hoisting his bag over his shoulder, his band’s session having finished. “And that’s good enough for me,” Henry utters.

-

The first time they meet, Henry was playing some songs in front of a cafe, his case opened as some strangers tossed change and dollar bills if he were lucky. Some of them hears bit before they decide if they like him or not, a few linger by until he finishes a song. Though he isn’t a leader singer, his voice is likable enough.

A young man sat down on the steps of the bank repossessed shop next door, watching Henry most of that morning. Henry doesn’t think much of it, used to some lurkers. Still, something about those lifeless eyes does worry him.

Soon, he’s accustomed to his silent companion who comes by, always at different times, but always without fail.

One day, Henry doesn’t see him. For the three weeks, he sees no hint of him at all.

Then four weeks pass when he sees a shadow approach his case, dropping a dollar in. Henry glimpsed at the bandaged hand and his eyes trail to the same young man, whose cheeks were purple, and the bottom of his pants and shoes are stained by mud.

There were many people who needed help in the city, and Sungmin’s image stuck out to him the most.

It wasn’t easy to gain Sungmin’s trust, but eventually he became a friend. If life were simple, Henry could have been satisfied with a life-long friendship, as he’s had with his other friends he’s gained. Sadly, those odds weren’t in his favor.

Ryeowook predicted the uneven path he was heading towards, but Henry didn’t think anything of it.

Strumming the strings, he writes a few words that come to mind, scratching out others, adding a few more. He sits on the wooden floor, notepad atop a few boxes with pencil on hand when he hears the faint sounds of the television turn off.

“I said it was fine if you watched it,” Henry adds muffled, the pick at the edge of his lips. “You had it so quiet too.”

“It’s fine, I finished the season already.” Henry is in a little awe of how quickly Sungmin could watch his series, he never had the patience for it.

Henry wrote another phrase and feels Sungmin leaning against his back. “Tired?”

“Mm,” Sungmin smiled, nestling against his shoulder. His fingers play with the eroded fabric of the guitar case. “I can’t believe how long this case’s lasted you,” Sungmin said in awe. “It was almost brand new back then.”

Henry smiled, although he guards his guitar with his life, the case he showed little care for. Although Henry’s goal isn’t to become a mainstream guitarist or reach the heights others hope for. Still, it doesn’t diminish his passion any less, more than just a mere hobby, it’s a lifestyle.

With the pick removed from his lips, Henry continued playing a few chords here and there, until his mind drifts as the melody comes out perfectly, his hands playing a harmony that comes naturally to him.

And when he’s certain Sungmin’s asleep, he speaks softly,

“I wish you understood what it means for you to be here.”

When Sungmin’s arms wrap around his waist for support, cheek pressed against his back, Henry keeps still, feeling at peace for the first time in months.