A(ndrei)sexual & Other Tales - Chapter Twelve: in which we learn that not all truths are clear as day

Warning: 18+ readers only; this blog is dark and full of terrors!
(Some mild language.)

NANA

    I didn't know what to think when I passed Andrei on the stairwell. He was rushing down the steps and nearly crashed right into me.

    "Nana..." he said, breathless and looking guilty. He moved to get past me, but I stopped him.

    "Look, I'm sorry about earlier," I told him. "I don't even know what I was thinking. I just -"

    "Forget it, Nana," he replied briskly before brushing me off and running down the steps.

    As I continued up towards the flat, I shook my head, thinking Well, I deserved that. I did a horrible thing.  Maybe he's told Dora what I did, I thought.  Oh shit, oh shit, he'll kill me.

    I took each step slowly; it felt like I was walking toward my death and Dora was the grim reaper. I could just envision him, suddenly a lot taller, in his long black Ramones hoody, holding a giant scythe. "How could you do that to my best friend, Nana!" he would say in a deep voice (so unlike his human voice, of course). "Now, you must die!"

    I felt my imagination so vividly that when I opened the door and saw him curled up, I was almost disappointed. He's sleeping, that's probably why Andrei left.

    And then I heard a sniff.

    "Dora?" I asked the room quietly.

    The side lamp was on, and the light was dim, but I could see his t-shirt on the floor. I called his name again, and this time, he sat up slowly.

    "Nana..."

    I rushed over to him, seeing his red eyes and wet cheeks. "What's wrong? What happened?"

    I immediately noticed how clean and tidy the flat was, and that he's actually showered, which meant that this wasn't some day-long cry he was having.

    "You need to tell me what happened because you're really scaring me," I said, reaching for his face and wiping his tears with my thumbs.

    "Why am I this way, Nana?" he whispered, still tearful. "Why can't I just not feel anything?"

    I somehow managed to convince him to talk, to tell me what happened, but it took a good ten minutes to get it out of him; that he was in love with Andrei, that he'd made a terrible decision.

    He didn't go into extensive detail, but I could put the pieces together myself.

    And so I made him get dressed, all the while trying desperately to get a hold of Ichi but his phone kept ringing out.  Where the hell is he at this time of night?  I kept thinking as I watched the clock go ten p.m. As we piled into a taxi, I refused to tell Dora where we were going because if I had, he probably wouldn't have come. He'd yet to visit Ichi's flat, so he had no idea.

    As I listened to Dora recall the whole thing, I watched Ichi's face and its transition from confusion, to anger, to disbelief and then to pain. I could see how much he was feeling for his brother.

    "Theo, why didn't you tell anyone before?"

    "How could I? I didn't really think it mattered."

    But it did matter. Because if Dora had told us how he'd felt, then maybe we could have prevented it.

    And then I thought about Andrei, and how distressed he was when he turned up at the bar, and how I'd not only made him feel worse, but I'd turned him away. I thought about how it might have been had I just listened to him, instead of... what I actually did. I hadn't known what had been going through his head when he thought it would be a good idea to go to Dora and act impulsively, but maybe I could have stopped it from happening.

    After Dora had finished his story and crying, I could see how tired he was.

    "I need a cigarette..." he muttered. Ichi immediately took a packet from the table and handed him one.

    "There's a balcony off the kitchen, you can smoke out there." Ichi pointed to the door as Dora nodded sadly before leaving the room.

    Ichi sat with his head in his hands, and I turned away from him, staring out the window, into the dark night. The dead silence was unbearable, the room muggy with it and so many unsaid things.

    And then I decided to say them.

    "You know, I actually came to the bar on your birthday."

    Ichi looked up. "You... did?"

    "Yeah." I bit down on my lip. "I saw you with Panda."

    "Why didn't you say anything before?"

    "Because he's my damn brother, that's why!" My voice raised. "How would you feel if I fucked Dora?"

    Ichi stared at me, wide-eyed and silent before letting his head fall back into his hands.

    "I didn't exactly plan for it to happen."

    "That is your defence?" My voice cracked a little in the middle, my mouth completely unable to control itself. 

    "He's an adult," Ichi said. "He can do what he wants."

    I couldn't tell if he was talking about his brother or mine, but I glared at him nonetheless.

    "You're supposed to be my best friend." My voice quietened as I resisted the urge to add "Not Panda's" to the end of my sentence. 

    "Trust me, I wish it hadn't happened." His voice was so quiet and small; I could barely hear it. And then he lifted his head again.

    I was about to say something - I can't remember what because I was so blown away by what came out of Ichi's mouth then.

    "Nana, I think I might be falling for him."

    Then get back up!  I wanted to scream at him.  Get back up, dust yourself off, and leave him alone!  But I didn't. I just looked at him as if he hadn't just sent my heart hurtling out of his sixth-floor flat, towards the concrete, and left it splattered all over the street.

    I barely remember standing up and walking out of his flat while he called after me. And I barely remember wandering around Camden aimlessly for two hours until I wound up outside Maki's flat. I didn't know why, but it felt like the only place I could go to. He was the only person in the world I could possibly talk to.

    I planned to tell him everything because I just needed to get it out of me. But I didn't. I said it to him in the vaguest way possible, and even though he probably didn't quite understand, he at least pretended to. And after a couple of hours of drinking, smoking and playing the guitar in a beautiful graveyard, I felt much better.

    I couldn't burden him with it. It would be too much. We didn't know each other well enough for me to pour all that shit on him. So instead, I took his amazingly beautiful guitar from his hands and started to play that song I'd heard him singing all those months ago, that had made me feel so emotional I wanted to cry.

    And as soon as I started playing it, I wasn't entirely convinced he'd sing. He just leant back on the bench and closed his eyes.

    And then his voice came out, burning and quiet and full of meaning. Each word he sang as if he'd written it himself; as if they were just coming straight from his own aching. And I felt exactly what I had done in Tamaki's bedroom, listening through the wall. I kept strumming along, tears grazing my cheeks as I watched his face. It was if my heartbreak was merging with his and I couldn't contain it inside me. It's as if the whole evening had come crashing down on me at once, mixed with the shit of the last four days, and the harrowing sound of Maki's melancholic voice.

    Eventually, I couldn't keep going. I stopped just as Maki sang the last word because my fingers had stopped working, and I direly needed to wipe my face before he saw. But he didn't even look at me. And I couldn't move.

    It wasn't quite the same after that. I don't know what happened, but Maki seemed to distance himself, and I started to feel guilty for him singing it when it seemed so personal to him.

    As we said goodnight to each other, it was hard to stop from just pulling him close to me. I just wanted to hold him for a second, share our misery together. I wanted to fix him. And I wanted him to fix me too. But I didn't. Instead, I just watched him walk away, back into his building, wishing we weren't both so fragile.

A(ndrei)sexual & Other Tales - Chapter Eleven: in which whisky meets guitar

Warning: 18+ readers only; this blog is dark and full of terrors!
(Language, and scenes of a sexually suggestive nature! (It's tame though))

Maki

       The room is dark, save for the streetlight shining through my thin curtains. I close my eyes and think about his body; the shadow of his collarbones with the beautifully designed skin, the tiny flash of the tattooed stomach, the way his tight jeans always fit him so perfectly, leaving little to the imagination. I think of the places I want to kiss, like the dip of his throat and the curve of his lower back and the inked clubs and spades on his wrists, his pierced lips, his elegantly set shoulders. I think of the way he smirks when he tells a joke and how I have to hide my thumping heart. I think of how it would feel to have him so close to me... My skin tingles at the thought of his hips moving against mine, the heat of our bodies entwined. Nails scratching. Teeth biting. I barely suppress a sigh just at the idea of him causing me to.

I think of his hands touching me, running down my body, sliding into my pants. His hands...

       The final burst of heat escapes me, leaving me hot and shameful. These thoughts will never ever

be real, will they?

       I drift into sleep quickly. It's a dark cast over me like I've been hit on the head with a frying pan. Strange dreams suck me in, giving a glimpse at what another life would be like. But they're muddled. Nightmares of Nana, and he's not in love with Ichi but with me. And for some reason, I can't accept his desires as I know they're not intended for me. But suddenly, it's not really Nana; it's Sen, and it's as if I'm reliving last year. He kisses me, tells me he wants to be with me. As my heart fractures all over again, a loud string of music blares through the shattering walls of my consciousness, teamed with a low, repetitive growl.

       My phone is ringing.

        Still fazing between different levels of consciousness, I painfully lift my hand over to see who the hell is calling me.

       But then I see Nana's face (his profile photo; he's pulling a silly face and sticking his studded tongue out), and I'm sure I must still be asleep. As I slowly realise that I'm no longer dreaming, I rush to answer before he hangs up.

       "... hello?" I answer apprehensively, suspecting he may have somehow pocket dialled me in his sleep. No way could he be calling me...

       "Are you awake?" he says, his voice tired and slightly rougher than usual. 

       "Well, I am now. Obviously."

       "Sorry."

       "Nana, why are you calling me at one in the morning?"

He's quiet at the other end. I can hear him breathing. Is he drunk? Did he mean to call someone else?

       "Nana..?"

       "Can you come out? Like, meet me."

       I narrow my eyes even though he can't see me. "Where are you?"

       "I'm outside your flat."

       I jolt up from my bed and run to the window. I can see Nana leaning against the gate, holding a lit cigarette between his lips. If this were a typical situation where a friend would be standing outside my flat asking me to come out in the middle of the night, I would have given them a swift "Hell no" and gone back to sleep. But it's Nana. And I can see the pain in his eyes, even from here; pain not unlike that of when he saw his brother and Ichi trying to eat each other in the corner of Black Cat.

       Oh god, that night...

       It was both the best and worst night ever. Tamaki announced that Nana would be coming over to write some songs. Goddamnit, I'd thought. Why does he need to be here? I hated how hard I had to pretend not to be besotted and entirely entranced by him. And how hard it was not to laugh at all his little jokes he'd make. I'd only spent a short amount of time with him really (we'd recorded a few songs over the past month), but it was already hard not to melt because of him.

       So I excused myself.

       "Well, I was going to go to the house, so..."

       "Well, I've just told you we're songwriting tonight, so..." Tamaki crossed his arms, visibly annoyed. "Seriously. What's up with you lately?"

       "What do you mean?" I asked, knowing exactly what he meant. I reached for my bag on the floor, but Tamaki pulled it from my hands.

       "Sen is gone, okay? He's wasn't going to give up fucking Oxford for a shitty little attic band."

       "We're not even shit, Tamaki. Three different recording companies have approached us."

       "We're never actually going to get anywhere though with only you on guitar. We need Nana more than he needs us."

       I went to take my bag from him, but he held it up, his freakishly long legs making it impossible for me to grab it.

        "Tam, come on."

       "He's perfect, so what's your problem with him?"

       "Wha--"

       "Tell me, and you get your bag back."

       "Fine!" I cried out. "I just... don't like him. He thinks he so cool and funny and he's just... not." It was painful to lie to him, especially since nothing I was saying was even remotely truthful, but I couldn't let him know my real feelings.

       "You don't even know him yet. You need to make an effort, okay?"

       "Why bother, if we're just a shitty attic band?"

       I knew he was right. I'd made no effort to get to know Nana. But I had a reason. I didn't want to feel that pain again. I didn't want to fall for him any deeper than the physical attraction I already had to him. I didn't want him to break my heart like Sen had when he started seeing Amber.

       Never again.

       Of course, I got over Sen, because I had no other choice; it happened over a year ago, our "break-up". We were still in the band together, and I couldn't let Amber find out. Of course, it sometimes still hurts when I think of everything he and I did together behind the closed doors of my bedroom, how many firsts I'd had with him. It was hard, and sometimes he still haunts my dreams. But Tamaki had never questioned me about any of that, so all this interrogation was tearing me apart. He never knew what had been going on with Sen and me since we were fifteen. No one did. But I just know that this time, my feelings would be harder to conceal and I didn't know how I was supposed to handle it.

       And now I had to watch Amber fall to pieces over Sen, just like I had. I stopped missing Sen long before he actually left - he'd been my warped best friend for years, but after that, we were merely bandmates - and

my current actions weren't anything to do with him.

       Tamaki didn't answer me, only stared at me with wide eyes as I managed to snatch my bag away and storm out of the flat.

       I didn't even know what I wanted to do at the house. Dad and Pops were surprised to see me so late in the day, and midweek.

       "Makiato, my sweet, what's wrong?" Pops asked, brushing my hair to the side. He and Dad were just finishing their dinner and Marie, the housekeeper was clearing up. Pops had rushed over to me as soon as I came through the dining-room door.

       "Nothing, Pops. I just feel a bit..." I screwed up my face as a way of explanation.

       "Where's Tamaki?" Dad asked from up the table, ignoring my distress.

       The dynamic in my family is quite funny; we grew up as if Tamaki was more like Dad's kid, and I was more Pops's. Of course, it wasn't really like that, but it didn't help that Dad had raised Tamaki to be a little rockstar and Pops had taken me under his wing to become his musical child prodigy. Tam learned guitar, bass, drums... I learned the piano, violin, singing. But ever since we'd been in the children's home, I'd wanted to be like Tam, and so I forced Dad to get me guitar lessons too. Only it was a bit late for me, and I couldn't pick it up as well as Tam had.

       Pops was disappointed when we formed the band. Well, not exactly. He was disappointed that I had joined.

"We didn't spend thousands on singing lessons for you to ruin your voice in a rock band!" he'd always say.

       And then he found the cigarettes.

       Oh, that was so awful. Pops didn't speak to me for two whole weeks. And then when he did start talking to me, he would just tell me I could have been "the best sopranist that London had ever seen" but I'd "wasted and ruined my talent".

       Dad, however, sorely disagreed; he felt my voice was perfect for singing the style of indie rock that had become popular in the last few years. He would always encourage me and applaud the range I'd acquired. For the first time, I felt close to him too.

       Of course, Pops got over it. He had to. And even after all that, I feel closer to him than Dad by far. And he still comes to our shows, although he looks pained when I start to growl into the mic.

       "Tamaki's at the flat. It's just me tonight."

       Dad looked disappointed. "I thought you'd be practising this evening."

       I rolled my eyes. "He's writing with Nana..."

       He seemed to brighten up a bit after that. "And what are you doing tonight?"

       I thought for a second. "I'm probably going to just... play in the studio for a bit."

       Dad nodded.

       "I'll get Marie to send up some tea to you, sweet," Pops said, patting my face.

       I thanked him and headed upstairs to the studio.

       I wasn't very conscious of what I was doing when I grabbed my favourite acoustic (a Tim Armstrong Hellcat) and went to sit in the booth. I didn't set up to record; I just wanted to play.

       But as I sat on the sofa, I closed my eyes and let my fingers play a melody. I knew what I was playing. I'd played it before in my room plenty of times. It was one of my favourite songs since I was little, even if it was a bit before my day. Every time I played it to myself, I wouldn't ever try to sing along.

       But this night, I took the key down and let myself go. Without once opening my eyes, I felt all the stress and pain I'd be feeling flow out of me with all the air and words and melodies.

       Only time will tell if you can break the spell, back in your own world...

       I didn't know why Nana's face was in my mind's eye the entire time I sang, but it was probably because he hadn't left my brain much since I'd met him.

       This is why I wasn't frightened when I finished the song, opened my eyes, and saw him standing behind the glass, looking like he was watching a dog play the piano. I just thought my brain had become so adept at imagining him there. It's had a lot of practice, alone in my bed.

Of course, when I realised he wasn't a fabrication of my fancy, I didn't let on my embarrassment or secret self-interrogation of oh my god how long has he been standing there become apparent.

       I pulled the headphones off casually. "Can I help you?" I asked, grateful for all my acting lessons. I'd become pretty good at forcing indifference when, in fact, I was feeling the complete opposite.

       He waited for a second before opening the booth door and popping his head around. "I just thought it was my turn to give you a fright."

       I couldn't even stop myself reacting, remembering how he'd jumped at the bar, but I tried my best to pass it off as disinterestedly as possible. It took everything inside of me not to swoon from his sexiness.

       "You failed."

       "I know," he said, sighing faux-dramatically. "I'll have to try again later."

       The thought of "later" made my heart jump, thinking that "later" I might still be near him. "Why are you here?"

       He slowly sauntered over and sat down next to me, uninvited. I watched him fidget awkwardly with his hands as if he didn't know what to do with them, before looking towards me. "I know you don't like me."

       I took my gaze off him, resting my guitar against the sofa. My hands were shaking just from him being so close to me. I had severely wanted to avoid this conversation.

        "Nana --"

       "It was the Sadako comment, wasn't it?" He looked so... ashamed. "Or is it because you feel like I'm ruining your band? I'm sorry, either way."

       I wanted to put my hand over his mouth to stop him talking, to prevent him being this precious and making me want to fall into his arms, and tell him he could have called me anything and it would never make me dislike him. Okay, sure, the Sadako comment had hurt me, and sometimes still did, but I knew he didn't mean it maliciously. I wanted to tell him that. But instead, I turned away, trying to hide my blushing face under my hair - probably what made me look like a murderous ghost in the first place. "It's okay; you don't need to say sorry."

       "No, I do." His dark eyebrows crumpled, his dejected expression so different to his usual near expressionlessness. "It's obvious I make you uncomfortable for some reason, so I just wanted you to find me approachable. And I failed. Because I fail at a lot of things."

       I could feel myself liquifying. If I'd been the bold type, I would have just told Nana "No, actually, you make me uncomfortable because I want to sleep with you", but of course, nothing in this world could have made me tell him that. Instead, unable to control a small smile, I said: "I'm not good with new people." Not exactly a lie.

       "Well, I came here so we could... I don't know, get to know each other. That's if you want to. I can't promise you'll like anything about me..."

       He paused, and I watched as a sly smile flicker on his pouty little mouth.

       "Well, other than my accent, of course."

       I closed my eyes, turning away from him, and my hands came up to my face. My whole body drowned in the embarrassment. I knew he would bring that up again...

       "God." I moaned into my palms.

       "Sorry, couldn't resist."

       I leant back, and let my hair expose my face once again, unable to stop a smile assaulting it.

       He started to ask me about my family, and so I told him. He asked me about my life, so I told him about that too. I said everything I could think of (except the bit about me wanting to sleep with him, and possibly marry him also, and the stuff about Sen) and he listened. He showed me pictures of his friends, the ones I hadn't met yet, introducing each to me as if we were all in the room together. We laughed a lot - at what, I couldn't tell you - but I could feel it happening.

       I could feel myself warming to him just like I knew I would.

       But I thought it was okay. I swore I could sense it from Nana too. The way he'd hold my gaze for just a second longer than what was reasonable, and look at my lips while I spoke.

       By the time we left to meet his friends, there was something there.

       Or so I thought.

       Everything was going perfectly. So so perfect. And at one point Nana even put his hand on my arm (however briefly). And honestly, I did not expect my feelings to go from "I may be in for a chance here" to "well I'm fucked" in the space of an hour.

       It was my fault for letting my sense of reality get away from me. Of course, someone like Nana - attractive, cool, funny - would never be interested in someone like me - weird-looking, clumsy, sarcastic. I shouldn't have even been surprised at his reaction when he saw who his brother was kissing.

       I'd seen the photos of Ichi. In every single damn one, he looked like God Himself had sculpted him with His bare hands. Nana could have been showing me pictures of some Japanese actor or pop singer. Everything about Ichi seemed groomed to perfection and the complete opposite of me. Him, with his purposefully messy hair, made me look like I had been hauled through a hedge backwards. His porcelain and poreless complexion vs my slightly ill-looking pallor or his dark, hypnotic eyes outshining my mud-coloured irises. Even his one single elegant star tattoo compared to my collection of them was more attractive.

       I didn't expect Nana to tell me the real reason why he reacted so badly. But I knew why anyway because I'd felt the exact same way when I first saw Sen with Amber.

I'd only spoken to Nana a couple of times since then, over the phone; once to make sure he was okay and he told me something had happened to his roommate, and then again earlier today, to check on him. I worried he'd think I was clingy, but now as I'm pulling on clothes and telling him I'll be down in a few minutes, I realise that regardless of his feelings for Ichi, I can't stop mine from surfacing.

       I grab the cheap(er) acoustic I keep at the dorm as well as a bottle of honey whiskey - he sounds like he needs a drink - and head out the door.

       Nana stands up straight when he sees me approaching. He looks drained, his usually impeccable eyeliner smudged around his eyes and his hair seems to have fallen flat after a day of being probably perfect.

       "I'm really sorry for dragging you out..." and then he sees the whiskey and guitar. "But clearly, you know how to cheer up a friend!"

       We chat idly as we walk along the street. We're heading towards one of my favourite spots in Camden, a small cemetery quite near to the dorms.

       "Is there anywhere specific you want to go?"

       "Here looks good," he answers, pointing at the graveyard.

       I nod and push on the gate. I half expect it to be locked, but it opens easily under my weight.

       I lead him through the dark passageway and under the bowing trees. He seems completely unphased by our surroundings, and it kind of makes me like him even more.

       "Do you come here often?" he asks.

       "Sometimes... usually in the daylight."

       He smirks. As we move further and further into the dark and quiet depths of the graves, we find a bench to park ourselves. I lean the guitar against a near gravestone and open the bottle of whiskey before handing it to Nana for the first sip.

       "Aren't you going to ask me why I've dragged you out in the middle of the night?" He takes a gulp and winces. "Especially since this is London and it's very likely we'll get stabbed."

       I shrug, taking the bottle from him. "If you want to tell me, you'll tell me."

       He watches as I tilt my head back and drink from the bottle for a little longer than he did.

       "I told Ichi that I saw him and Panda."

       My eyes widen. "You did?"

       "I... well, when I came home from work earlier, I found Dora and..." he pauses, his eyebrows ruffling. "Well, he wasn't doing so well. So I took him around to Ichi's, even though Dora hates him but they're brothers so I thought I should."

       Nana takes another sip, rivalling the mouthful I'd just downed. I mentally hold the fact that we're sharing a bottle, our lips touching the same place, so we're indirectly kissing.

       "After Dora had calmed down a bit, he went out for a cigarette. And I told Ichi."

       He struggles to talk, and I stare at him. I can tell he's trying not to break down - probably because we don't really know each other and he'd be embarrassed - but he's cracking at the seams.

       "And Ichi told me..." He takes a deep breath. "He thinks he's in love with him."

       My mouth drops a bit. I can almost see the world just how Nana must be seeing it right now; watching the guy you love fall in love with someone else.

       "I dunno. It's kind of hard to get my head around. I sort of left Dora there."

       "Where did you go?"

       "I just walked around for a while. Like, two hours. And I didn't know who else to talk to about this because... I don't know. It's just too weird."

       His face changes, as if he remembers I can see his expressions. Suddenly he seems back to normal like he hasn't just had his heartbroken (even if he doesn't know that I know.)

       "It must be. I couldn't imagine Tamaki going out with one of my friends," I say lightly, playing along with him.

       "Yeah, it's... it's weird." He takes cigarettes from his pocket and lights one before offering one to me.

       We sit in silence for a minute or so, drinking the whiskey and smoking. I can feel the former starting to take its effect already and I'm inwardly cursing myself for not eating before going to bed.

       I turn and grab the guitar from the grave and hold it in position.

       "Sing for me, Nana," I say smoothly.

       He lets out a little laugh that sounds adorable with his raspy voice. "No."

       "Come on, you said you could fill in for me if I passed out, so prove yourself." I try to stop myself grinning at the blush spreading over his cheeks.

       "I definitely can't sing like you do. You seem to have some tiny... opera singer living inside of you. All I have is a guy who smokes too much and thinks he can sing but actually sounds like a food processor."

       A sudden laugh escapes me, and I start to play the first few chords of an old Coldplay song, nodding at him as I sing a little, guiding him in.

       When he starts to sing, it's so unrehearsed, full of little giggles as I smile at him. His voice is so natural and rough like his speaking voice, his accent showing through on his vowels like small pieces of heaven. It totally doesn't fit the song at all, but it sounds raw and unusual. When it comes to the chorus, he shakes his head, and so I take over, singing only quietly, and he watches me intently. But once the chorus is over, neither of us can remember any more words so instead me toast ourselves with more whiskey.

       "I love your voice," I say, totally unexpectedly. Why?! I regret it almost immediately, feeling embarrassed until I see Nana look away shyly.

       "Please," he says, smiling demurely. I expect him to say something else, but he doesn't. He only turns to take the guitar from me.

       He looks at it in his hands for a good few seconds, running his hands over the curves of the lacquered wood in admiration. I can't help imagining that the guitar is actually me and I feel a hot flush come over me. Never thought I'd be jealous of a guitar.

       He starts to pluck at the strings, playing something immediately recognisable. It's been seven hours and fifteen days... I don't think he really expects me to start singing, but I do because I can't not sing it.

       But he keeps playing. And I keep singing. I'm overcome with a sense of fate, that he would play this, a song that hurts me to the point of tears, a song that I sing to myself every other week - less so now - and still feel the pain of it.

We play it all the way through. I don't open my eyes the entire time because I become so lost in myself.

       He stops playing abruptly, and I don't look at him, only take another drink from the bottle. "Where did you even learn to sing like that?" He says suddenly, almost accusingly. "God." When I look at him, I notice his eyes have become full of pain again, even more so than before. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

       "Fair enough," he says with a short laugh as he puts the guitar down. "I'm so glad it's dark." He wipes his sleeve over his cheek quickly.

       "Are you... crying?" I move towards him.

       He laughs again. "Because of that song!"

       I let out a big smile. "Only my Dad cries when I sing."

 Nana pushes me playfully. "Let's never speak of this again."

       I hand him the bottle, and he takes it, removing the lid and bringing the bottle to his lips. But then he stops. "I have a weird confession to make."

       My heart stops. I think of all the terrifying things Nana could possibly say. 

       "What?" My voice shakes.

       He looks away from me, seeming embarrassed. "There's a reason I knew that you'd know this song..."

       I stare at him, not sure if I want to know the rest. "Everyone knows that song."

       "No, I mean... how you'd sing it." He stares intently at the statue in front of us. "I heard you, from Tamaki's room."

       My body goes cold like someone's just walked over my grave (funnily enough). I feel both humiliated and exposed.

       "I feel bad for not mentioning it before because I could tell it was something personal to you. But I couldn't just... ignore you while you were singing, you know? You sounded so... emotional. And I've been learning how to play it because I wanted to hear you sing again."

       I don't say anything. What can I even say?  My heart is fluttering intensely inside my ribs like it's trying to escape.

       "Why do you sing that song?"

       I can't tell him that it became my favourite "break-up" song after Sen dumped me for Amber. I can't let him know that. "I just... like it."

       Nana nods. "Okay."

       It's obvious he doesn't believe me, but he doesn't say anything else about it. "I'm sorry."

       "Nana, it's fine," I say, trying to smile. "I'm just a bit embarrassed now." 

       "Well, so am I." He points at his face. "You saw me cry."

       I giggle. "So we're even then."

       By three a.m., the whiskey is gone, and we can see the beginnings of the sunrise. We decide it's time to call it a night and get back to our beds.

       Nana walks me to the dorm.

       "Thank you for coming out."

       I smile at him. "Anytime."

       I want to imagine him watching me walk away, thinking Maybe Ichi isn't so great after all, thinking Maybe Maki is the one for me. But I don't look back to check.

       Because I know he's probably gone and my heart is already breaking at the thought of it.