At each instrumental break, Amari became increasingly engrossed in the music, moving his head, then his body, then jumping and spinning. Everything he had been feeling was released through his voice, and by the end, he was breathing a little heavier and feeling a lot lighter.

Yangyang let out a low roar, clearly releasing his own stress. “What’s next?”

Fall Out Boy’s Dance, Dance, The Strokes’ Last Nite, Ramones’ Blitzkrieg Bop, The All-American Rejects’ Dirty Little Secret, Fall Out Boy’s Thnks fr th Mmrs, The Killers’ When You Were Young - the two ran through song after song. Sweat poured down Amari’s face and neck, trickling between his shoulder blades and along his spine, but he didn’t want to stop. While there was music, he could forget everything else except being in that room with Yangyang.

After almost two hours of singing and playing, with short breaks for snacks, water, and alcohol, Yangyang set his guitar down and collapsed to the floor, arms and legs spread wide.

“Ah, shit...” he groaned. “Fuck, I’m so old.”

Amari giggled softly and sat down on the floor near him. “You perform these kinda songs on stage. Professionally. How can you be so tired already?”

“Listen kid.” Yangyang spoke between shortened breaths. “How was I supposed to know that under that grouchy, ‘fuck-the-world’ exterior, there was a massive fucking ball of energy? I can’t keep up.”

He giggled again. “Yeah. I guess I’ve been a little pent up.”

“No shit. How did you manage to hold all that back? Anyway, this old man needs a break.”

Amari stood with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll sing on my own then?” There was only a grunt in response. “But... I need you to put the song on for me...” His tone was teasing, not truly apologetic, and Yangyang groaned dramatically as he picked himself off the floor. “How about What Do I Know? Ed Sheeran?”

“Yeah? That song seems so... upbeat.”

He shrugged and smiled. “What? I can’t sing those kinda songs?”

Yangyang entered in the selection, then handed over a large acoustic from along the wall. While he tuned it, Yangyang pushed a stool under him, forcing him to sit, then set up a mic stand in front of him. Amari smiled his thanks.

“Just let me know when you’re ready,” said Yangyang, sitting back down on the floor to be his audience.

After a moment, Amari nodded his head, and listened to the beeps so he would know when to start. He tapped his foot on the stool, swaying gently as he sang, a small smile on his face. It was true, it didn’t seem like his type of music, but there was so much Yangyang didn’t know about him. There was so much the world didn’t know about him.

He wasn’t naïve, or even particularly optimistic. He didn’t believe the world could be changed with just love and music. How nice would it be, though, if it could? In a way, music had shaped his life - giving him a way to survive when he had nothing, giving him family when he had no one, and bringing him to where he was now. Love wasn’t something he was familiar with, but maybe it could do the same. Maybe the point wasn’t that it could change the whole world. Maybe it was smaller than that – just one life, one little world at a time.

As the words came out, he began to feel a bit sad, wondering what that kind of love would feel like – a simple, easy, natural love that could make such a big change. There were millions of songs and stories about it, but did it really exist? Loving just because, and being loved in return. He sang like it was a fantasy, because it was difficult for him to even imagine.

After leaning the guitar gently against the stool, he walked over to sit next to Yangyang.

“Ah. I guess you can sing those kinds of songs...”

There were a few moments of silence, the two sitting together on the floor.

“Calmed down now?” Yangyang asked, his deep voice soft and low.

Amari nodded and Yangyang let out a loud sigh, stretching his arms behind his head and laying down.

“So, was it a good surprise? Are you glad you trusted me?” He was cocky and teasing, but he couldn’t hide the hint of anticipation.

Laying down next to him, Amari turned his head to look over the outline of Yangyang’s face. It was just a blur, and he smiled, looking up at the ceiling.

“It’s the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

He felt Yangyang shift next to him and turning his head back, he could tell the man had rolled to his side and seemed to be looking at him. Clearing his throat nervously, he sat up, scratching at the side of his head. Yangyang only chuckled and sat as well, patting him on the shoulder before standing.

“I wanna hear you play the piano,” Amari said quickly, still on the floor. “Last song for the night.”

“The piano? I can do that... but why?”

“Because I think you’ll be good.” He smiled a joyful smile toward him and Yangyang chuckled.

“Well, then, how can I refuse?” Sitting on the piano bench, Yangyang ran his fingers over the keys. “What do you want to hear?”

“Doesn’t matter. Whatever you wanna play.”

“Walking in Memphis. But only if Xiao Li sings.”

Amari frowned. “Why do you keep calling me that?” He liked it, but it also made him feel vulnerable somehow.

“I like it. Yang ge. Xiao Li. It’s more... equal?”

He nodded, unable to argue, and went back to the mic stand to sit on the stool.

“Sit here,” Yangyang directed, knocking on the piano bench.

Amari joined him and he started playing, not bothering with the karaoke. The intro grabbed Amari instantly. Yangyang’s fingers moved with ease, and Amari’s soulful voice followed the piano’s lead, the two playing with the song together.

As he did with the guitar, Yangyang felt the notes and became the music. Amari was pulled in, as if he was meeting him in some separate existence. Somewhere outside of reality, where it was only their sound together – a place where problems weren’t so serious, and everything that seemed important didn’t really matter.

He sat quietly as Yangyang finished the song, then let out a light laugh, wondering why someone so naturally gifted wasn’t doing more with that talent.

“Where’d you learn to play like that?” he asked after a few more moments.

Stretching out his arms, Yangyang cracked his knuckles. “I’ve played since I was young. All the way through college.”

Amari looked down at the floor, realizing how much he didn’t know about this man beside him. Each of them had a mysterious history, and for the first time, he thought Yangyang’s past might be as complex as his own. The idea of getting to know that past made him smile and blush, and he felt a nudge, bringing him out of his daze.

“What are you smiling at?” The voice was delicate in his ear, the two sitting close on the small piano bench.

“Oh, nothing really.” Amari quickly stood to put the microphone back on the stand, then turned to face Yangyang and felt his stomach rumble. “If we’re done, maybe we can get some food? I’m hungry.”

Yangyang laughed, putting the cover down over the keys. “Ziggy wasn’t lying. You really are always hungry.”

After turning off the karaoke system, Yangyang moved everything back into place, then pushed Amari out the door, shutting off the light and locking the room behind him.

“Let’s go try to fill up that bottomless pit of yours.” He leaned his arm on Amari’s shoulder and the two headed toward the exit.