The silence that filled the room changed almost immediately, as if Cal had sucked all the air out with his words. He was sure he wasn’t breathing, and neither was she. Until the window by the bed blew open with a breeze, letting in a few stray autumn leaves. Lia scrambled to close the window while Cal wondered where he’d fucked up this time. She stayed there, her face and her body illuminated by the autumn’s morning light.
“You know why we can’t,” she said.
“Can’t we?” he asked, and he was provoking her, maybe. Because he knew perfectly well that it made no sense for them to. But he was selfish and never had a plan if his life depended on it. “Can’t we have more, Lia? You can stay with me. You can tell meall the ways I can make this band work, and I can take you to all the places I never went with you. We can be happy.”
“Wait. Are you serious?” Lia asked, frowning down at him.
“I want to ask, at least, if it’s on your mind? Because it’s been in mine. I like how you fit into this space.” That was a lie. He didn’t just like it. He’d gotten used to it. Had started to breeze through his runs, his morning gym sessions in anticipation of their mornings together. Had accepted that he was down an office in his apartment and started moving things to the studio. The shape of his life was starting to adjust itself to accommodate Lia.
“But it’s not real,” Lia argued, and Cal really didn’t think he would be that hurt by what she said, but he felt it anyway. Like a careless flick of a wrist. He must have winced, because Lia looked devastated. “I mean…it’s real, but we aren’t…this version of us is just a version of us.”
“What?”
“Cal. I’m not like this all the time.” Lia indicated herself in her pambahay clothes, in bed, her hair fanning her shoulders, a pimple patch on her forehead. “And I don’t want to be like this all the time.”
“What’s different?”
“I can be meaner,” she explained. “Less patient.”
“So can I.”
“I can want too much from you and not say it out loud. I never tell people what I want, and I get angry when they reject me.”
“And I try too hard to get people to like me.” They were just stating facts now. He already knew all of this about her, and the idea that any of this was a version of her made his chest hurt. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Giving up everything only to lose you,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing. “Cal. I’m not…I mean, my best friend couldn’t even?—”
“Your best friend isn’t worthy of you.”
“I’m not worthy of you!”
“You really believe that?” Cal asked, surprised that this was still on the table. He washere.He was in this bed with her, stealing all the time he could, because he wanted to spend time with her over literally anyone else. But she didn’t know that, did she?
“Maybe.” Her voice was small, and he wanted more than anything to wrap her in his arms and shield her from all the terrible people who ever made her feel unworthy. “I’m not brave enough for this.”
Compliments. She liked compliments. “Youarebrave. You came here and did all of this because you wanted to be brave. You’re worthy because you want it. I can’t promise this will work out, Lia. But…don’t you want to give it a try?”
“I'm leaving soon,” she insisted.
“Do you only like me because I’m an idol?”
“No. No! How can you even ask me that!” She shook her head, and groaned, and he didn’t know if it was because she knew exactly what she wanted to say but was trying to recalculate it to seem less mean, or she didn’t really have anything else to say. She looked miserable, and he felt miserable, but god, clearly they needed to talk about this. “You’re my dream guy. In all the ways that matter to me. I’m not interested in a world that doesn’t get to hear you sing. To hear your music.”
“So what are you saying, Lia?” He was getting frustrated, which he didn’t want to be. He wanted to be patient and understanding. He wanted to be the perfect boyfriend, if he was even allowed to have that privilege.
“I’m saying I feel the same way about you,” she said, and he couldn’t deny that. There was a look on her face that made him feel like he was really seeing her for the first time, every emotion, every feeling was clear as day. She touched his hand and it was like she was squeezing it around his heart. “That a part of me would have wanted to ask you to fly home with me. I can see it, introducing you to my Ate. Bringing you to my favorite places. And it’s wonderful, and it literally makes my chest hurt just thinking about how much I can love you.”
He felt that too. She’d given the ache a name, and it was there, and he didn’t know what to do to make it go away.
“But what would it really be like, if I stayed? You would always feel this pressure to make me feel better about myself, and I would constantly ask about your work, your career. If you came with me, you would give up all of your dreams here. And it won’t be the same for you, making music without Siwan keeping you focused, without Soobin making sure you still enjoyed it. And sure, maybe we could work it out. Maybe we can go long distance, and maybe we make it. But what if we don’t?”
“You’re scared.”
“Yes! Aren’t you?”
“Yes. But aren’t you willing to take that risk with me?” He knew what it was like, to be left behind. To give someone everything only for them to want to take it back. He had that in him to bear it, still, maybe. But he didn’t know. Lia clearly had decided she couldn’t take that risk.
“I can’t imagine it would be fair to ask each other to give up their dreams,” Lia said. “I could never do that to you. Not for me.”
