Bugger. Yeah, of course he’d have no idea. I’d changed my number when I left home. I smacked my forehead with my phone, earning me a concerned look from the young girl a few feet away.
Me
You used to call me Pom.
Somehow that felt easier than just admitting my name. Like, that way he could at least pretend he had no idea, and I could write this off as just one of those things.
Tae
KY?!!!!??????
[Sent 18:43]
I laughed in relief, and snapped a quick selfie doing a peace sign. I was giddy. He felt like a flashback, and it was euphoric.
Tae
I remember you being cleaner.
[Sent 18:45]
Me
You seem exactly the same.
My phone rang, and a rush of emotions surged through me too fast to process. Breathless, I pressed it to my ear.
“Well, well, well. What’s a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?”
“Pom! What the fuck! Where the hell you been, loca?”
I laughed loudly, grinning so wide it hurt.
“It seems to me I’m in the same muddy field as you.”
“Jesus, this world is so small,” he chuckled. “I’ve missed you, Pom.”
And hell if he didn’t sound like he meant it.
“I missed you too, chum.”
Inexplicably, I felt tears spring to my eyes, and I hurriedly brushed them away, and tried not to focus on how his voice took me back to a time that felt more like home than anything had in such a long time.
“Fuck,” I exhaled shakily.
“Pom, are you… are you crying?”
“What?” I cleared my throat, “No. I’ve got smoke in my eyes.”
“Smoke?” He sounded doubtful.
“Fire circles, man. They’re everywhere.” I attempted a laugh as I dragged my sleeve across my eyes and sprang to my feet, hopping lightly on the spot, trying to shake off this sudden melancholy.
“Hey, look,” I said in my cheeriest voice, “I’m writing a piece on K-Pop at Glasto. Can you help an old friend out?”
“Oh!” He sounded surprised. “Hang on, let me check with our manager.”
The line was muffled, the raspy scratch in my ear telling me the phone had probably been pressed to his chest as he did whatever he needed to do.
