“Isn’t this precious...” said a sugary-sweet voice from behind, and Amari jumped in his seat.

“Jesus fucking Christ Zig!” Spinning on his stool, he punched the shadow square in the chest. “Don’t sneak up on me. You’ll give me a fucking heart attack.”

His friend laughed painfully, then groaned and took the seat next to him. “Why do you always aim for the middle of the chest?”

“If I aim anywhere else, I’ll miss.” Amari smirked, saying it as a joke, but it was the truth.

“I came over because it sounded like a little girl had snuck into my adults-only club. Instead I found...” Ziggy pondered as he pet Amari’s curls. “Antèka, I can't even describe what I found. Were you always a giggler?”

“Fuuuuck...” Amari groaned, hiding his head back in his arms. “I’m never laughing again.”

“Well, that can’t be allowed.” His arms were pulled away, and Ziggy leaned in close to his face. “I’m just disappointed, hein? Three years with me, I get nothing but grumpy, and now you’re over here giggling away with some strange man you just met. Franchement... Who knew you were so easy?”

Yangyang chuckled lightly beside him, only adding to Amari’s embarrassment. He reached out and put a palm over his friend’s face, shifting it to cover his mouth.

“Ah, mon chéri is blushing,” Ziggy mumbled through his fingers. With a quick lick, he freed himself and laughed.

“Uh, gross. Fucking pervy old man.” Wiping the spit-covered hand on his pants, Amari turned away to face Yangyang. “Sorry about him. I’m pretty sure he only ever thinks of sex.”

There was another light chuckle. “Good to know he hasn’t changed.”

Ziggy mumbled something incoherent under his breath and Amari gave him a kick.

“Coudon... For someone who says he can’t see, you are awfully accurate when you assault me, tsé?” With a loud moan, he dramatically rubbed his injured calf. “I am going back to the apartment and leaving you two to continue whatever this is. Yangyang, you seemed busy, so your bandmates packed up and headed out. They said they’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow.” He gave Amari another loving pat on the head. “Bring the rest of the food, and lock up on your way out.”

Ziggy started heading for the exit, then paused at the end of the bar. “Ch'te dis - and you better listen - don’t do anything dirty in my club. I’m speaking to you Yangyang. I have no problems with my vision, and I can see the look on your face just fine, hein?”

“You’re such a perv,” Yangyang muttered with a sigh, but the warning made Amari smile.

His friend's footsteps faded into the distance and Yangyang cleared his throat.

“You know, you keep staring at me.”

“Oh, sorry.” Amari turned his head away in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to creep you out.”

“Ah, no, that isn’t what I meant. I was just wondering why you would, if you can’t see anything.”

“I’m not completely blind,” Amari explained, looking back toward Yangyang. “I can tell where you are. Sometimes, with familiar people like Zig, I can recognize their shape, if I’m close enough. Mostly, I know people by sound and smell.”

“Smell? Like a dog?”

He smiled, almost letting out a laugh, then swallowed to compose himself. “I’m not a dog... But everyone has their own scent. Sweat, the shampoo they use, perfume or detergent they like, or things they pick up from around them. Cigarette smoke, or foods they usually eat...”

He trailed off, having never explained any of this to someone other than Ziggy. The more he spoke, the stranger it sounded.

“Yeah?” Yangyang was intrigued and leaned in closer. “Do I have a smell?”

“Uh, yeah, kinda,” said Amari hesitantly. When there was no response, he scratched the side of his head and continued. “Sweat, from playing earlier, shampoo, aftershave, I think, and sandalwood.”

Yangyang let out a quiet “huh” and Amari heard him ruffle his shirt, inhaling deeply.

“Yeah, definitely sweat. I’m surprised you noticed the sandalwood though.”

“It’s faint, but I used to live with a couple who were always burning sandalwood incense. The apartment and the couple always smelled like that, so it’s familiar.”

Amari picked at his thumbnail again. For the second time that night, he was telling this man more about himself than he intended. There was a strange feeling of discomfort and relief battling inside him, and he needed it to end.

“I should go,” he spit out, suddenly shifting his stool back. “And you should go. Sorry, that you missed your bandmates. I didn’t mean to keep you. I’m sure this wasn’t what you expected when you came to meet with Ziggy.”

“That’s alright. I liked it.” Yangyang’s voice was calm, his tone genuine. “But, it seems like I’ve made you nervous somehow, so I’ll grab my guitar and call it a night.”

Amari nodded and watched the shadowy form move to the stage, then back to the bar.

“I’ll head out first then,” Yangyang offered reluctantly. “I really did have a good time, Amari. I guess I’ll see you when we come to perform.”

It was the first time in almost a year that Amari had been called by his first name like that. While the entire situation made him uneasy, there was also a hint of longing. He didn't want to lose whatever this was.

Yangyang started moving toward the exit but was quickly stopped, a hand grabbing onto the back of his shirt. He didn’t turn, letting Amari hold on as he spoke.

“I had a good time too.” Releasing the fabric, Amari scratched at his head. “Sorry. I don’t really speak to people, so I’m not good at it. I don’t even know why I said so much. This’s... a lot for me.”

“I know.” That deep, kind voice washed over him and he immediately felt a little better. “I guess you’ll just have to start practicing.”

Waving an arm wide above his head, Yangyang headed out to the street, leaving Amari alone to lock up The Basement. He walked back to the bar and slumped onto a stool.

What the hell was that? he thought, and buried his smiling face in his arms.