Episode 42 - Drunken Confessions

As the guitar played and the backup singers hummed behind him, Amari thought about how long he should stay tied down by this relationship. It had been another two weeks since Valentine's Day, and he hadn't heard from Yangyang since. He was stuck in limbo, with his life moving along as if nothing had happened, but his heart stuck in one place.

He sat for a few seconds after the song had finished, not moving or acknowledging anyone around him. Coming to his senses, he bowed to the audience and slowly walked backstage. Suddenly, a hand reached for him, grabbing his wrist and startling him.

"Sorry, but maybe stay back here, hein?" Ziggy tried to sound calm, but there was a hint of worry in his voice. "Yangyang is at the bar and drinking a lot."

Amari nodded and his friend let out a little sigh of relief.

"Hey Zig... Is there time for me to sing another song later?"

"Oui, c'est correct, là. Pourquoi? Is something wrong, mon chou?"

"No, I just don't think I've said what I wanna say today."

His chest felt heavy, weighed down by some new, trapped emotion, and he knew he needed to let it out. Noah Kahan's False Confidence wasn't the right song. Knowing Yangyang was there, he had something different he needed to express.

Ziggy gave him a pat. "C'est okay. Just let Ren know which song, and you can be the last one for open mic."

"Thanks."

The man gave him another pat and headed back down the hallway. Finding an empty corner, he slumped to the floor. It was always a different sensation, listening to the performances from off stage, and he closed his eyes, wondering if these people sang the way he did. If they felt it the way he did.

He almost dozed off, sitting in the corner listening to the music, until a voice called out to him, snapping him back to reality.

"Kid," called Ren from the side of the stage. "Are you singing?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." He pushed himself up and grabbed his acoustic, hurrying to the mic. Sitting on the stool, he quickly made sure he was in tune, handing the amp cord to Ren.

"Uh, hi again everyone." A few people in the audience chuckled at his awkwardness. "I know I was up here earlier, but I didn't really say what I wanted to say, so Zig was nice enough to let me come back."

::Amari, why're you explaining this to these people?::

Maybe the explanation wasn't really for them. There were a few claps and he waved to Ren, plucking strings a few seconds later.

He didn't fully know why, but when he heard that Yangyang was there and drunk, Lewis Capaldi's Before You Go overtook his thoughts. His mind was telling him to sing it, and his heart was telling him to be honest with himself.

::If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather::

Amari felt his chest tighten at the words as he sang. It wasn't sorrow, or fear, or grief. What he felt was purely guilt, and he hated it. He wondered if he had been wrong - if he shouldn't have let it go. If he should have tried harder, instead of letting the man walk away. Instead of throwing him out.

This was his fault, but he couldn't fix it. He dumped a lifetime of shit onto Yangyang, frightening an already anxious man, and then pushed him away. He didn't know what the man was going through, but he had been angry instead of supportive. That night wasn't about him, but he panicked and didn't listen. And now it didn't matter. Yangyang had to be the one to make this better. In the end, he still chose to leave, and he needed to be confident enough to come back.

The crowd cheered, but Amari barely heard it. He didn't sing it for them anyway. He had believed he sang it for himself, but maybe that wasn't true either. Without a nod, he walked off stage, too lost in his own thoughts to care.

Head hanging, he shuffled toward the hallway until he bumped into something. Someone. A tall, sturdy figure, who smelled a bit like sandalwood and reeked heavily of liquor was blocking his path. Looking up, Amari wished he could see the expression on his face.

Yangyang reached out and grabbed his arm tight. It was painful, but he didn't pull away.

"What're you doing here?" he asked the man with a frown.

"You're a liar." Yangyang's emotions were so mixed it was difficult for Amari to tell what he was feeling.

"What'd I lie about?"

"You said you only sing what you feel." With those words, it was clear that Yangyang was more confused than anything else. How could Amari know what the man was feeling when he didn't even know himself?

"Why are you singing like this is your fault?" Yangyang growled. "Why do you keep singing the things I'm supposed to say?"

"Why do you think that? You think you know how I feel?" The questions came out cold. He wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around the man, to comfort him, but that wouldn't solve anything, so he stayed still and detached.

There was a strong grip on his other arm and large arms tried to pull him closer but he resisted. "I ended it. It was my issue. Why do you keep singing like you've done something wrong?" Yangyang sounded like he was going to cry and Amari couldn't take it anymore.

"You're drunk," he said, pushing the man's hands away. "You should go somewhere and sober up, then go home. Or I can call your sister to come get you."

"No, please... Don't make me leave." The deep voice was almost a whisper, and Amari felt his heart rip into pieces.

"I'm not gonna talk to you like this." He stepped around Yangyang and the man didn't follow, standing slumped off stage. "Go home."

Leaving him standing there, he walked quickly to the bar, waving Ziggy over.

"What's wrong? The look on your face is-"

"Zig, Yangyang's drunk backstage." He grabbed his coat from the floor. "I'm going back to the apartment. Can you make sure he gets home? Stick him in a taxi or something."

"What did he say?"

He just shook his head, not wanting to talk about it right now.

"Oui, I'll check on him. He's a grown man, tsé? I don't know why I have to be doing these things..."

"Thanks Zig."

Flashing him a smile, his friend just waved him along in return. He rushed out the front and up the steps toward the apartment, shivering in the cold even with his coat. More guilt spread through him. He was an asshole for leaving Yangyang like that, for treating him so coldly when he was obviously hurting, but that wasn't the way this should go.

Throwing his coat on the couch, he hurried into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting steam fill the room. Stepping in, the water burned his skin. He pushed his palms against the shower wall and welcomed the pain as it flowed over his head, his mind going blank.

Once the water ran cold, he turned off the faucet and sighed. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he wandered into the kitchen and stood, empty, staring at the dark nothingness where the counter would be. Only a minute later, he heard a banging and mumbling coming from the stairwell. He crouched next to the door and listened closely.

"Why do you... do this to me?" asked the deep voice in drunken stammers. "Why... does it hurt so much?"

::What the hell Ziggy... What happened to the taxi?::

With another sigh, Amari knocked on his side of the wood. "Yang ge, I told you to go home. You're really drunk."

"Ā Li?" asked the voice, all of a sudden light and happy. "Wèi, Ā Li. Let me in. Don't push me away..."

"Yang ge, wasn't it you who pushed me away?" He stayed firm, but not as cold as before.

"I know," said the voice, now heavy with regret. "I was wrong. I just wanted... to do... the right thing."

After a third sigh, he opened the door. There was no use having the man pass out in the cold stairwell. Yangyang fell backwards into the apartment, his support gone, and hit the floor with a loud thud and a low groan. Realizing Amari was standing above him, and he reached his arms up to him like a child, fingers brushing at his legs.

"Ā Li... Ā Li, you let me in."

"You were about to pass out on the landing." Amari walked back to the kitchen. "I didn't have a choice." He filled a glass with some water and brought it over, helping him sit up. "Drink this."

Yangyang sipped at the liquid, then leaned against Amari's bare chest, arms hanging over his shoulders. "Ā Li, you smell so good."

Grabbing the man by the arm, he hoisted him up. "C'mon. You're letting the cold air in."

He dragged the heavy body up and back, then shut the door and set the water on the table. From behind, large arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close.

"Ā Li, I really missed you... I love you."

The voice was soft and the words made Amari wince. They were words he had wanted to hear, but like this, they were only sharp, painful stabs at already open wounds. After a moment, he sighed yet again and turned, pushing Yangyang back and holding him at a distance.

"How about you tell me that when you aren't completely wasted?"

"Are you going to send me away?" asked the man, and this time Amari was grateful he couldn't see the face matching that tone.

He led him to the couch and sat him down, helping him get his coat off. "I'm not gonna send you away, but I'm also not gonna talk to you while you're this drunk."

Leaving the man, he pulled a blanket out of a basket in the corner.

"Here. You can sleep on the couch tonight." He made Yangyang lie down and covered him. "There's water on the table if you get thirsty."

A warm hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him down.

"Thanks," the man whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

Amari winced again and pulled his hand from Yangyang's grip. He waited until he heard the familiar slow breathing and occasional gentle snore, then headed to his bedroom, locking the door behind him.