Cal sang with closed eyes, his socked foot tapping to the beat as he did. Jesus Christ, he was listening to Incubus, and Lia was not strong enough for this. As he sang about echoes and mouths in slow motion, she tried to look away. She really did. But this was the kind of scene a fan could only fantasize about being real, and a fresh wave of longing, an ache in her chest, made her stop. She wanted that. To feel that relaxed and at peace, a longing to be a part of someone else’s world, just they became part of yours.
It was an old song, to want something, to long for love, and yet Lia felt it more acutely now. She pushed aside the feeling and headed to the door. There was no use staying in fantasies.
“And where are you off to today, Lia-ssi?” Cal’s voice drifted lazily as he sang the question alongside the music. Lia turned just in time to see him watching her, his fingers still on the guitar. He tapped his headphones, probably pausing the music.
“I was going to go to N Seoul Tower,” she said. “Make my pilgrimage?”
Cal scoffed and shook his head. Lia wondered what pithy thing he was going to say about Korean tourism when something seemed to occur to him. He sat up excitedly, like he remembered something. “You’re an Incubus fan.”
“…yes?” She didn’t even realize that he remembered that from the one offhand comment Teddy made. God, anyone whowas lucky enough to be loved by this man, would probably be very happy.
“Come here,” he said, excitedly, sitting up and putting aside his electric guitar, patting the seat next to him on the couch as he grabbed his phone and tapped. And when Lia wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking, he tapped the empty spot on the couch beside him like it would make her pop up right there. “Liaaaa-sssiiii!”
“Teka lang.” Lia put her bag down and took off the one shoe she’d managed to put on. “Teddy said you were busy today.”
“Your brother’s waiting for me at the studio. Dongyeon said he would pick me up,” he quickly explained. “I didn’t realize this song was recently re-released. I need you to listen with me.” He held up his headphones to her.
“How?” Lia asked, frowning. Cal made a noise that was dismissive and impatient, and she tried not to laugh. Then he scooted a little closer to her on the couch, their thighs touching while he kept the headphones on his left hand. Then he held it upside down and turned the things around so he could press the right speaker to his left ear and she could do the same with the left on her right ear. She was suddenly very aware that their sides were touching, that her hair was on his arm, that the backs of their palms were touching too. She could hear her own breathing, she could feel him breathing, too. It was so intimate and gentle that she wanted to lose herself in it.
“Listen,” Cal repeated.
He pressed play, and Lia listened.Echowas a nostalgic old song to her, played on the MYX Channel with lyrics and in high school band fests. Most of the song was the same, but there was a maturity to it too, the kind you only get from playing the same great song for the last twenty years or so.
She’d always loved the drums in this song, like they’d tried to add as many beats to each measure, but it never felt like it wasgoing wild or out of control. It managed to keep the music feel like it was being sung directly to your ear. Close and sweet, like the singer’s whispery voice was the only one that could take you to the rest of the music’s sonic wildness.
It was wonderfully nostalgic, but it still sounded entirely new to her.
“It’s great,” she said, still listening. “What did?—”
“No, no, wait, here it comes,” he said, and the singer sustained the last note of the chorus, and the guitar played a single note that didn’t fade away. The music swelled, and the last note continued, and the drums came back in. Moving sharply and fast, increasing in speed and volume as the rest of the music seemed to grow too. Lia felt as if she were being taken higher to a completely different plane of being, and then dropped into a beautiful, open space with the stars above and musicians farther away. The music had slowed, but it surrounded you like you were floating on it.
Lia didn’t realize it, but she’d gripped Cal’s hand as the band stayed in that big, open sonic space, reveling in it, dancing in it, before it faded away with a single warbled guitar note. And just like that, the song ended.
“Holy shit.” She looked at him, and he nodded enthusiastically. Cal paused his music before the next track could play. Lia gasped and lay back on the couch, a little breathless, eyes wide.
“I know, right?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “It was so…transcendent.”
“Transcendent?!” Lia echoed all high pitched. Cal blinked in confusion, and Lia completely forgot that he had no context to the meme, and now she wanted to crawl into another hole and expire there.
“Did I not use the word right?”
“No, you did, it’s just…Pinoy things.” She waved her hand him. “You were saying?”
“I want the album to feel like this when you listen to us. Like it’s us, but better.”
“Sudden and unexpected,” she said absently, still feeling like she was floating down from the high of a good song. “Like a bolt of blue.”
“I just…I’m glad you like it.” Cal said, and there was a twinkle in his eye like he knew something she didn’t. Lia wasn’t going to press him on it. Let him keep his secrets for now. “Sharing a good song somehow makes it even better. And I’m glad it’s with you.”
And just like that, he was Cal again, the boy who got her strawberry milk and bagels, and made her feel like she was a person that mattered to him. Lia could so easily get lost in that feeling. But instead, she decided to try something—well. Not new. But something she hadn’t been willing to do until this moment.
“I realized I never told you about my therapy session,” she began, licking her lips, her throat suddenly dry.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he assured her, but it didn’t feel like resistance? It was more assurance, that he was here, that he was ready if she was.
“I want to,” she told him. “If it’s okay?”
“I want to hear about it.” He sat up, showing her that he was going to pay attention. “Tell me.”
