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As simple as that ugly truth.

The music died as my phone hijacked the speakers.

Kozo.

I answer his call reluctantly.

“What?”

“Zymon said you fled.”

“I’m on my way to Winter Storm.”

“So, you fled, you fuck.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Why are you calling me?”

“Because I miss you. Why else?”

“Hang up.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“I’m serious.”

“You saw me a week ago. That exhausting interaction should last you until next year.”

A pause.

“Would you just let me love you, motherfucker?”

I almost laugh.

Almost.

“We spent more than a decade together. That’s love enough.”

And I’m not lying.

The fucker and I have spent too much goddamn time together.

HADEX has been a lot of things.

A dream.

A prison.

A family.

A fucking disaster.

Most days, it manages to be all four at once.

Kozo lets the silence settle before speaking again.

“You still can’t finish the album?”