The outside of the building was lit with a single bulb, hanging listlessly as the November wind blew it every which way, not bothering to let up as the moon began to drift in and out of the clouds. There was a purple siding that had crumbled along with the years. It had been repainted once so long ago when the world was still infatuated with the idea of the future, planning forever for a time that would be lost to the careless dreamers of a forgotten age. The street was a lonely one, but had brought about many wanderers and remained there unchanged, continuing to silently support the weight that the world still held over their shoulders.

Upon entering, one was hit immediately by the scent of stale cigarette smoke and the aura of indifference. In the corner to the left there sat a bar whose counter is now nothing more than the essence of the people who had spent all those hours sitting alone, strung out on the reality that they could no longer fathom. There were tables that lined the walls and moved gradually into the middle of the floor. The chairs were backed by velvet covers that had faded so that they were able to embody nothing more than a dull gray contrast against the rusting metal that supported them. The tables were wooden and had the names of people carved into them, a last ditch effort to be remembered by the new age that was approaching ever so quickly.

In the front of the room there was a stage. Each night, Yongguk played there, releasing his sorrows in the form of his fingers lightly gracing the brass buttons of his saxophone, his body swaying back and forth, music flowing endlessly from the instrument and filling the room with the sound of jazz. Each night, I would go, watching in awe as the music lost me inside its passion, saving me even if only for a short while from the world that awaited me just outside the door.

Around me there always sat familiar bodies and although I never spoke to any of them, I still found myself hoping that one day, these faceless acquaintances of mine would find what they’d been looking for all that time, even if I couldn’t find it for myself. Inside that atmosphere of timeless romantics and hopeless aspirations I felt at home.

-----

The club was called Peter Cat and the first time I entered the place, it was merely by chance. It was the middle of October and the leaves were beginning to sway slowly down, taking a leap of faith in an attempt to distance themselves from the fate of the dying tree that they once called home.

The time was somewhere around midnight and my shadow never ceased to gently fall right beside me, keeping me company as I walked along without a thought daring to infiltrate the emptiness of my mind.

At that time, the world was changing and those of us who couldn’t keep up with it were forced from the light, caught beneath dark alleys and a deep purple haze. Lost in my thoughts, I walked down the boulevards and understood that I was searching for something, something to fill the void in my chest and something to ease the pulse that was drowning out the silence of my thoughts. What brought me out of my mindless daydream was the sound of soothing cords meeting trembling treble-clefs, the noise emanating from between the cracks of an unassuming building on the corner. I was put into a trance and for the first time in so long, I had felt entirely at peace, as if the ocean of social implication was suddenly no more than a calming rush of flowing water, taking me with it along down a stream, the warm liquid releasing my bones from their joints and allowing me to be truly free, even if it was only for a few minutes.

The door released a high-pitched scream as I pulled it towards me. When I walked inside, the place was fairly empty apart from the few tables where men and women sat, eyes downcast and faces melancholy, a tumbler of alcohol sitting in front of them all, half-finished and waiting.

I walked over towards the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. The bartender was an older man with dull eyes, wearing a woebegone expression. He nodded slightly at my request and turned, mixing the drink with languid movements before handing it back to me. I had set the cash on the counter and found myself again encompassed by the music. In a daze, I found a table towards the back of the room and sat solitarily, easing into the chair and looking at nothing in particular, just glancing at the surroundings. On the walls, there were black and white photographs depicting the history of the place, the musicians who used to hold the stage and the patrons who were long gone. From these, I looked to the stage. It was then that I first saw him.

I didn’t know his name at the time, but he was able to reel me in with nothing more than his movements, his left foot taping the floor lightly, keeping the rhythm of the song. His eyes were scanning the crowd and when his gaze fell on me, it remained for a while longer. His lips rose around the sides of his mouthpiece and my heart clenched inside my chest. When he finished the number, he announced that he was taking a break, panting warmly into the microphone, his voice deep and smooth. He walked down the steps of the stage and began to walk towards my table, a thin film of sweat covering his forehead and causing him to appear to be glimmering underneath the florescent sunlight.

I kept my eyes staring at the table, too nervous to look up. I heard the chair beside me being pulled out and felt a weight being placed on my forearm. I looked up to find him, so close to me that it made it hard to breathe. He smiled at me then and I swear I could feel my heart melting in my chest, sliding through my body and creating a pool of gush below my feet. I smiled back shyly and tried to avoid meeting his gaze for fear of embarrassing myself further. It was then that his hand cupped my chin and raised my eyes to meet his.

In a low tone he whispered, “My name is Yongguk. I haven’t seen you around here before.” Still maintaining eye-contact, I felt the blood rush into my cheeks before responding, “M-My name is Himchan.” Yongguk chuckled then pinched one of my cheeks lightly. The spot that he touched retained a burning sensation even after his skin left mine. “You’re really too cute, Himchan.”

He smiled then. His teeth were pearly white and etched in soft pink gums which caused his appearance to seem less intimidating, so I felt my body beginning to relax. Yongguk must’ve noticed this change in my demeanor, humming quietly as he held his hand up high, signaling the attention of the bartender. Yongguk ordered two vodkas, straight. Smirking, he lifted the glass to his mouth, sensually his lips before placing them on the rim, swallowing his liquor with a loud gulp. I did the same, with less theatrics, and as I began to feel the vodka burning in the pit of my stomach, so too did I begin the feel my muscles loosening and my mind going blank, forgetting to keep myself protected from another person I knew was just waiting to break me.

Yongguk laid his hand on top of mine and rubbed his thumb lightly over my knuckles. Beneath the table, his foot was sitting overtop of my mine, refusing to let it out of his reach and effectively keeping me situated right where he wanted me. I could tell by that point that he was definitely the possessive type, his grip tightening a bit as I began to scan my eyes around the room again, accidentally locking them with another man before turning my gaze back to Yongguk who looked at me with drowning eyes and flushed cheeks. By then, it was clear that the alcohol was beginning to course through his veins, replacing his seemingly calm personality into one of passion and impulsiveness. His hand was still holding mine as he scooted his chair closer, touching his leg to my thigh. As he leaned closer towards me, I felt my heart starting to beat faster and my palms beginning to sweat in anticipation.

The kiss started out as an innocent meeting of lips, but soon turned into a passionate fixation of tongue and teeth, with Yongguk taking the lead and myself following. His tongue dominated and I felt the moans moving up my throat, losing myself completely in the moment. Yongguk seemed to like what I was doing as his hands began to run up and down my arms, leaving behind goose-bumps in their wake. I felt him smile into the kiss before we both pulled away to catch our breath. Filled with visible lust for me, Yongguk whispered into my ear that we should get out of there. With my head still a blur with the rush of an alcoholic buzz, I agreed wholeheartedly.

By then, the clocks had already reached the time of night when the minutes no longer mattered. With his eyes never leaving me, Yongguk wrapped his arms around my waist and escorted me out of the club, leaving behind us only lonely souls and flat drinks.

-----

Walking down the street, Yongguk kept his arm around my waist, his head in the clouds and his mind lost to the haze of alcohol. With no idea of where we were heading, I kept my eyes watching the pavement at my feet, counting the steps along with the inhale and exhale that I felt Yongguk exerting beside me, his breath freezing in the air and drifting away into the nighttime sky. Every once in awhile, I would catch him looking in my direction with a small smile on his face, but whenever I looked up to meet his eyes, he would turn his head back up to the stars.

There was a thin frost that covered the telephone poles that led our way to his apartment. Upon reaching his building, we stood in silence, enjoying each-others company and contemplating the graffiti that covered the brick walls that stood in front of us. Yongguk held the door for me as we entered and we walked over to the elevator, waiting impatiently for it to retrieve us from our lowly confines.

When it arrived, Yongguk pushed me up against the back wall of the small room, crashing his lips to mine again, his teeth biting at my lower lip. His arms were on either side of my body, blocking me in so that it was impossible for me to leave his side, not that I wanted to in the first place. When we broke apart, there was a dull popping noise, and I felt a tiny trail of blood beginning to trickle down my abused lips. Seeing this, Yongguk apologized whispering, “I sometimes get carried away,” before reaching his thumb out and wiping the blood away then the crimson from his finger. My eyes were fixated on him and his actions, my body heating up and my knuckles clenching the rail behind me. It was then that the chiming of the elevator resounded through our ears and together we walked down the hall and into his apartment.

-----

When I awoke in the morning, the air was weighed down heavily by the smell of . Yongguk’s arm was around me, his face in the crook of my neck with his breath tickling my skin with each intake of oxygen. Around his room laid scattered papers filled with would-be songs and literary prose. There was a waste basket in the corner, but it seemed that while crumbled, Yongguk wasn’t able to throw his work away, holding on forever for the chance of a masterpiece found amid the rubble.

The clock on the wall showed that the time was 7:38AM. There was a window on the opposite side of the room. Outside, there was a light drizzle falling, the pellets of rain sliding down the window, losing themselves to be released back into the sky, the cycle remaining. Yongguk began to stir slightly then held me closer to his chest, burying his head further into my skin, serving as an immense comfort to me in the lightless moments of an early Tuesday morning. Slowly, I felt myself drifting back to sleep, closing the final expanse left between my eyelids, the small movement that separates dream from reality, wishful thinking from the harsh world that awaits you when you rise again.

When I awoke for the second time, the sun was attempting to shine through the clouds that encased it and Yongguk was no longer beside me. I smelled coffee wafting through the crack beneath the door and found my body getting dressed and walking to the kitchen out of natural instinct. Yongguk was inside, cup of coffee in hand, looking with blank eyes out the window. I cleared my throat and Yongguk turned around, smiling and offering me his mug, our fingers brushing as he handed it to me.

He wore a loosely fitting white shirt and skinny jeans, freshly showered and smelling of Irish Spice. The sunlight was hitting his body at just the right angle, showing a gleaming in his eyes and bringing about a cherubic appearance that I lost myself in. “Uh, Himchan, I really hate to do this, but I have to go. I’ve got a thing already planned this morning. Will you come to the club again tonight though? I want to see you again.”

Yongguk said this with such a hopeful tone that I couldn’t stop myself from agreeing. Yongguk beamed as he walked me to the door. When we reached it, he wrapped his arms around me again and kissed me, sweetly this time with no more unforgiving longing. I gave him a small wave before walking into the brightness of the morning.

-----

I went to the club that night and the nights that followed. As the October winds froze against the December chill, I remained inside that club, waiting for the sun to rise again, a gin and tonic in front of me and Yongguk’s music providing a sense of atmosphere amid all the dreamers losing themselves in their thoughts. I became addicted to the aura of the place. Of Yongguk’s eyes finding mine in the middle of his set and winking before returning his gaze to his saxophone, body swaying back and forth as the tunes serenaded my every whim and desire. Every night, after his performance was finished, Yongguk would come back to my table and whisper sweet nothings in my ears to help me through the darkest time of night, the time that made me tremble, that made me fear sleep. And every night, Yongguk would hold me tightly in his arms, protecting me from the dark past that permeated my frozen heart-strings. But, in the morning, there was always something, I never found out what, so we parted ways at his door, forever destined to meet in the hours following midnight.

However, one night, Yongguk never showed up for his set. The job was taken by another man with a sharp jaw-line and daunting eyes. I walked over to the bartender to ask about Yongguk. In return, I got nothing more than a harsh tone telling me, “He ain’t coming back, kid. He’s nothing but a drifter, doesn’t stay in one place for real long.”

Stunned, I found myself walking to his apartment. Waiting again for the elevator, the chiming remained ringing in my eardrums as I approached his door. Taped to it, there was a note that fell slowly to the floor as I knocked. I picked it up and read it carefully, hanging onto each and every word, hoping desperately to find something in his phrases. All I found was a goodbye and an apology.

I kept going to the bar for a couple weeks afterwards, but it just wasn’t the same. I could no longer find the comfort that I once felt as I sat there, alone and listening.

-----

I never saw Yongguk again. Every once in awhile, I still think I catch a glimpse of him on the street somewhere, but soon, the resemblance fades along with the memories. Peter Cat closed years ago, but even now, as I stand in front of the abandoned building, the feelings remain of all those times Yongguk succeeded in making my heart skip a beat, its pulse drumming softly inside my chest.

It’s all in the past, but night remains forever young as the gears of time shift slower, rusted by the tears of all those who have lost it for good. Eventually, it will grind to a screeching halt, as the seconds become the hours lost long ago to the fretful fists of forget-me-nots.

As I stand in front of the purple siding, I feel the memories lifting from my pores and into the sky. Somewhere, Yongguk is doing the same. Silently, our dreams intermingle and we’re together again, even if it’s only for a mere second of solitude. Tonight, there are no stars, only the remnants of yesterday’s brightness remain. I stand beneath their light, alone and waiting.