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I lie on my bed, knowing immediately that this is going to be one of those nights.

I toss and turn for a bit, then I shut my eyes, but I'm still wide awake. It's four in the morning, yet it's like I got eight hours of sleep, only with none of the refreshing feelings. So I just lie there, staring at the ceiling. I remind myself that this has happened before, a lot of times, and just because it's been happening again lately doesn't mean it's serious. I just can't sleep, that's all. But no matter what I do, I couldn't keep that thought out of my mind.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, I get up and sit on the side of the bed. I am still sleep-deprived and tired, so I stare at nothing. My room is a mess. I don't know why, but that fact bugs me more than anything right now. I can't bring myself to get up, though, so I just sit there, being bothered by it.

Now that I think about it, my room has been messy for the past couple of weeks. It just kept piling until it became what it is right now. I never really had the time. Whenever I go home, I just feel too tired to do anything, or too busy to clean it up. Now, though, I'm technically free, but I don't know. Just the thought of getting up, let alone moving around, is too much for me. Maybe I'm just making excuses for myself, but I just don't feel like getting off the bed at all.

There's nothing else I can do about it, so I look away. I turn to the window. Some of the windows on the buildings are still lit up, the boulevard isn't as busy as it usually is, and the city in the distance is still twinkling since it never sleeps. But what catches my attention is the fox staring back at me. He's only in his boxers, fur disheveled, hunched forward and elbows on his knees. His eyes are glazed over, and they can't seem to focus on me. The fox just sitting there, all alone, and he looks absolutely miserable.

I need coffee.

That gives me enough willpower to get up. I hop over my things as I make my way to the door. I then make a beeline for the kitchen and start brewing some coffee. After that, I take my phone from my room, open a song streaming app, and shuffle it on some playlist that has the semi-popular hits of the month. I put the phone down on the counter as I pour it on a mug, then I take a sip and my mood lightens for a bit. I feel like smiling, even. My choice to work at a coffee shop looks like it's paying off now.

As I continue to drink, the song changes and my ears point to my phone. The song's familiar. It sounds like a song I knew from around a decade ago. At first, I think that I'm imagining things, but the vocals start and sure enough, it was the song I knew from around a decade ago, but different somehow.

It confuses me for a second, but that feeling goes away and I let myself feel nostalgic. Then new lyrics come around and I knew why it was there. It takes me out of it a bit, but I don't mind. The nostalgia washes over me and I find myself dancing around the kitchen, letting the song take me back.

I was twelve when I first heard this song. It was autumn, and I was walking home from school. I took a detour to a convenience store for some food. As I did, this song came up. I didn't hear it at first, but as I did, I got interested in it. I did my best to memorize the lyrics since the girl at the counter didn't know what it was. It took all of five minutes for me to get home, get to my Dad's laptop and search it up. I found it, and I listened to it for the rest of the night. I wouldn't shut about it for the next week, especially to Jacob.

Jacob. My mood gets knocked down a peg when I think about him, but I try not to let it ruin my mood entirely. The memories still keep coming, though. He learned it for me, so when I sang, there were at least some accompaniments--that or because I didn't know how to play the guitar yet. He taught me eventually, and this was the first song he taught me, and then I wouldn't stop playing it.

Now that I think about it, when was the last time I last played the guitar?

That thought stops me dead in my tracks entirely. I pause the song and go back inside my room. I then go to the bed and crouch down to the ground beside it. Sure enough, the guitar's there, along with some other junk. I push them away and pull it out. There is a thick layer of dust and it reminds me of how long since the last time I picked it up. I don't want to remind myself how long that's been. I wipe off the dust and run my hand down the neck, fingers grazing the strings.

I remember how excited I used to get whenever there's a guitar lying around, how itchy I was to play. I remember how I loved to play around Jacob and how excited he was when I played the one song he loved so much. There were times where I used to play in front of groups back in college. Hell, I played for Ash's friend's party last October, and I loved it. What happened?

I get up and sit on the bed, placing the guitar on my lap. I press my fingers against the strings and strum the guitar. It stings like it did when I first learned how to play, but I ignore it. I check the tuning, then strum it again. Once I get the tuning right, I strum a few chords to get me back into it. It's harder, because I don't feel like playing much, but I still get into it, nonetheless.

I play the song I was listening to. I strum the chords, then hum the vocals before halfheartedly singing it. It's been a while since I've actually sung, too. I used to do it all the time. People say that I have a decent singing voice, and that's about it. None of them really encouraged me to do much about it, but it was fine by me.

Then there's Jacob.

He had the same opinions as everyone else when it comes to my voice, but unlike the others, he actually pushed me to do it more. It's how I got into gigs in the first place. I would sing and he would play the guitar. Then I learned how to play the guitar and we would play together. It was fun watching him play. There were times where he would tell me to play the verse for a little longer and then he'd make up a solo on the fly. The people loved it, and I loved it. He always had my back, and I did my best to have his.

I miss him.

I never missed him more now that I visited him last November. The feeling is stronger than it was back in college, when he just moved out and I didn't see him for a while. Maybe it's because he made it clear what he wanted back in November. Maybe that's what he always wanted, and I just didn't get it the first time. I don't want to think about that, but he still moved away, I still visited him, and he still cut me out of his life. It's hard not to think about it.

Playing the guitar feels laborious now. My strumming slows down until I just hold the guitar and stare at the wall in front of me. I sigh, leaning my head against the bed. It's been months, I want to tell myself, but... I don't know. It just hurts every time I think about it.

So instead of fighting it off, I close my eyes and relax a bit.

"So what, are you just gonna lie there?" I hear Jacob say in my head. We were in his room at the time and I was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Of course," I said to him. "I am demoralized and I'm gonna stay here until I feel like getting up again."

"If that's what it takes to demoralize you, then you're never gonna play for Taylor Swift."

I remember losing the school's singing competition at the time. I was in third place.

"I was joking. Well, kinda."

"Hey, it doesn't hurt to try."

"You only say that because you want Trivium to notice you."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?"

He gave me that huge hyena grin, and I laughed at that.

"But that aside, if that's what gets you all down, then you're not going anywhere. Come on."

"Five more minutes. I wanna feel bad for myself."

"Half an hour wasn't enough for you?"

"You just don't understand."

"All right." Jacob sat down, the way I'm doing right now. "If you're gonna stay there, then I'm gonna stay here too. I'll move if you move."

"Fine by me."

We were silent, then Jacob started playing the guitar. I open my eyes and stare at the guitar. He was playing at the time to placate me, but it was all right because he enjoyed playing it. Jacob always was patient with me.

"Is that..."

"I know this song has a sour taste in your mouth because of the competition, but this is your all-time favorite of the month, so why not cheer you up?"

"I thought you're sick of it by now."

"Even if I am, you need some cheering up to do."

"I'm not gonna lie. It works."

Sure enough, I got into the song too much that I started singing the song again, and we had a mini jam session in his room for all of five minutes. After that, I was finally sitting up, and Jacob was sitting on the bed. We were both smiling.

"Looks like it worked," he said.

"Yeah. I wonder how the hell you did that."

"I've been your friend since we were four, Danny. I know how you function."

"That's neat."

"I know, right?"

We laughed. It would've been fine then, but I found myself staring at him after that. I thought of how nice he looked, and how the afternoon sun glistened in his fur and eyes.

"Hey, Jacob?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I... yeah, that's good to know."

My fingers sting from playing the chords, and my wrists ache from strumming. I lean forward, resting my head and arms on the guitar. I turn my head to the window again, at the city. I don't see the fox anymore.

"I'm sorry, Jacob," I say.

***

It's been a while since I've been out this early on a day off. The air is cold; the sun is just beginning to rise, and I feel strangely refreshed after sleeping for less than four hours. And it just might be the first time I'm spending time with Eric without involving the coffee shop or the strip club. Pushing my crisis at four in the morning aside--along with the fact that I'm this early because I can't sleep--this might be one of my favorite mornings in a while.

I'm not really one to call people for walks in the park, too, but I got the urge. And because it's me, I follow up on it and call Eric. So here we are, walking in the park, talking about stuff. I wonder if he has things to do and if I put a dent in those plans. The fact that I don't even have anything planned puts salt in the wound. We have been walking for a while now and I'm beginning to wonder if Eric is still oblivious to this whole thing or is just waiting for me to say it. I don't know. I just wish I changed a little, is all.

"You're just the best, aren't you, Danny?" I mutter to myself.

"What was that?" Eric asks.

I straighten my back, put my hands in my pockets, and smile innocently at him. "Nothing. I just thought you look damn great in a tank top."

Eric just looks at me as if to tease me for that horrible attempt at deflecting. But he shakes his head. "At this point, I think anything I wear looks good to you."

"Because it does. You've never made a horrible wardrobe choice."

"You saying that makes me want to reevaluate your judgment."

"Hey." I elbow him. "We're both gay, so that means our fashion sense is impeccable. I mean, look at me." I hold my scarf. "It goes well with my shirt, don't you think?"

Eric takes off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his snout. The look of disappointment on his face is almost believable if I don't know he's joking. "Why did I expect anything different from you?"

"Because you still have faith in me. The sooner you lose it, the better."

Eric sighs in exasperation. "If you say so."

That might be the most tame reaction to what I said. If not the least disappointed.

We've been walking aimlessly for quite a while now, and I wouldn't be surprised if we walked the entire park. I take a discreet look at Eric for the time being. He has his arms crossed, eyes darting from place to place on random things on the lane in front of him, humming a song I don't recognize. He seems to be enjoying himself or entertaining himself while waiting for me. Either way, he's not bored, so that's good.

"By the way," Eric says. "About last night. I appreciate you booking Dev to a private room since it supports him and all, but why'd you do that out of the blue?"

I grin at him. "Why? Should I only throw money at you, then?"

"You know that's not what I meant. I'm just asking."

I shrug. "Well, I had the money, and I was curious, so why not?"

"Curious about what?"

"I don't know, actually. Him? His way of dancing? The very concept of stripping and all of its associated points of controversy? I'm still trying to figure that out."

Eric shakes his head. "And did you put money in his jockstrap, too?"

I wink at him. "Gotta support your friends, you know?"

Eric laughs. "Looks like you'd get along with Dev. I should invite you to one of his parties some time."

"I dunno about that. Don't you think I'd feel out of place?"

"Why? What do you think his parties are like?"

I shrug. "Football, frats, beer." I try to do a frat boy impression. "Hey, bro. How ya doin'?"

Eric sighs. "Come on, he's just straight. That's that."

"I don't know, Eric. Should I wear a dress so you could pass as straight, too?"

"Could you sound the part?"

I do my female voice impression. "Why, of course I can, Mr. Firsch."

Eric laughs, louder this time. "You'll really get along with Dev."

"You serious?"

"Oh, definitely. I've been thinking about that for the past few months now."

"Well, if you insist, then I'd like to get to know him more."

It's not that big of a deal, but that lights up Eric's spirits to the point that I almost share the same enthusiasm as he is. He acts all giddy when he's excited, and I find it really cute. I probably say that to everything about him. Doesn't stop it from being true, though.

Eventually, we both got sick of the walking around. I suggest we go to a restaurant just a couple of blocks from where we are. We also decide to walk there for the time being. Gives us an excuse to talk some more. I get that I visit the strip club every now and then and he visits the coffee shop in return, but still. I just feel like it'd be better without work involved--or horny adrenaline. There are some issues I need to work out, after all. I just don't know about him, and at this point, I probably shouldn't ask.

"There's a lot of people today," I say, trying to come up with a different conversation topic.

"Well, it is a weekend," Eric says. "Why, you're not good with that many people?"

"I am, just pointing it out. But I am good with people. I mean, there was this one time when there was a talent show back in my hometown when I was growing up. Almost everyone in town went there. Half of them weren't really watching us, but still."

"How'd it go?"

"I was a nervous mess, but when I got singing, it all came natural to me. It felt amazing. I loved that night."

He chuckles. "I know that feeling, all right. First time performing in a crowd of people and then getting lost in the moment? It's one of the best feelings in the world."

"I know, right? I wanted to do it all over again."

Eric nods, a wistful smile on his face. "Yeah."

When he doesn't continue, I speak up again. "Thinking of something?"

He looks up and smiles at me. "Yeah. It just reminded me of something is all."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Eric opens his mouth, then closes it again. His gaze falls to the floor. It only happens for a few seconds because before I know it, he's smiling at me.

"Sorry, not that one."

I raise my hands in the air. "Hey, it's cool. If you don't feel like sharing it, then don't. You don't have to tell me everything."

"Thank you. And you didn't have to go overboard. You could've just said that it's okay."

I shrug. "Whatcha gonna do about it?"

"I'm still figuring it out."

I chuckle. "Take your time."

I put my hands in my pockets and try to act casual, but I'm guessing I'm going overboard again because Eric's snickering.

"By the way," he says. "Is there a plan on what we're doing today, or are you just flying by the seat of your pants?"

"Uh..." I look away from him before giving him an innocent smile. "I'm still figuring it out?"

I expect him to groan in disappointment, but instead he nods slowly. "That explains it."

"That explains what?"

"We've walked for an hour back at the park. Aimlessly. And you weren't really itching to go anywhere else."

I rub my snout. "Ah. So you've noticed."

"You do it for long enough, and I'm gonna notice."

"No, it's not that, it's just... yeah, I have no idea what I'm doing either. I literally just woke up this morning and went on a walk with you."

"Oh, that's fine. It happens from time to time."

I turn to him. "No. With me, it happens every day. I just do stuff when I feel like it and I drag other people with me. I'm surprised it hasn't happened to you sooner."

"Bummer." Eric looks at the clothes display as we pass by. "I bet you get into a lot of adventures."

I chuckle at that. "Kinda. It's either I get something really amazing, or it would ruin my week."

"But hey, not knowing the outcome makes it all the more exciting, right?"

To be honest, I never really thought of it that way. I just do the things I want to do because I feel this strange obligation to act on impulse. The exciting thing is more of a nice side effect more than anything now that I think about it. I wonder if my friends felt the same thing I do or they just enjoy the moment. I look at Eric. He has that sparkle in his eyes. The thrill is probably the only thing he looks forward to do. I envy him.

"Now that you said that, yeah. It does."

"I know, right? So, when's the next time you'll invite me?"

I snort. "Whenever I feel like it. But for now..." I stop and point at the building on the other side of the road. "We're here."

The restaurant is on the opposite side of the road. I wanted to surprise Eric more, but the glass walls already give it away. That and it's just another restaurant, with the only exceptional thing being I like it. Either way, we cross the street and I pick up the pace so I could get to the door first. I open the door for him and I gesture for him to come inside.

"After you," I say.

Eric placed a hand on his chest flamboyantly. "Such a gentleman."

"Of course. I'm the one showing you around this time, after all."

He shakes his head and walks inside. I follow suit. The air-conditioning is the first thing that greets me, followed by the chatter of half a dozen people inside. It's one of the things I like about the place, there's not much people here when I come in. It gives me time to think about things.

"Cozy," Eric says.

"Yeah, that's what I thought when I first got in here," I say.

"I notice there sort of a... wood theme going on here."

Eric glances around and I do the same. The restaurant has a forest theme to it. Everything is in the color scheme of mahogany and leaves, and there are soft yellow lights dangling above the tables. Makes me want to sip coffee at a cabin in the woods. And it's great that Eric feels the same way about this place, too.

"Yeah, gives off cabin in the woods vibes. But the nice ones," I say. "Now, where do you wanna sit?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"It's your first time here, so I want to give you a good first impression."

Eric shakes his head and then looks around. It takes a few seconds before he settles in a certain direction and points at it. "Let's sit over there."

I follow his gaze and sure enough, I see it. It's one on the corner of the restaurant. It's the closest to the stage. And on it is a stallion who's holding the microphone and a hyena attaching a cable to his guitar.

"Sure. Why not?" I say.

With that, we walk over to the table. This time, Eric leads the way. He sits on one side and I sit on the side closer to the stage. As I do, I look at the stage again, at the stallion and hyena. I think back to one of the last few people that performed there. It was a rat and a bear. Both of them had amazing voices, and they played the guitar and bass pretty good. I forgot their name, though.

"Someone's playing," Eric says. "Nice."

"Yeah, people play here from time to time. Turns out, bands who are just starting play here almost every time. Mostly indie bands, all duos."

"'Mostly indie bands?'"

"I mean, there was a goth band that played here once. On Halloween."

"How'd it go?"

"Turned this restaurant into a temporary goth club."

He chuckles. "I'm surprised they even allowed it in the first place. I imagine the music must've been way different from what they expected."

"Well, indie rock and goth kinda have the same roots, so there's not much of a difference, really."

He looks at me, confused, then he just shakes his head. "Whatever you say."

The stallion taps on the mic, which gets both of our attention along with some others in the restaurant. He clears his throat and cups the microphone.

"Hello, uh, we're Brooks, and uh, we're glad to be here," he says. He's stuttering and I could tell from here that his hands are shaking. "Anyway, here's one of our singles, 'just wait'."

The hyena starts playing the guitar. He plays it softly, but skillfully, as his fingers move around on the first few frets. The melody is soothing, melancholy, and it feels full. Then the stallion sings and he has a soft-spoken, gentle voice. He's amazing, but I look at the hyena. I find myself staring at the way he looks at his guitar, the way he turns to the stallion and smiles a content smile. It looks really nice.

"They're pretty good," Eric says.

"Yeah," I say. "They are."

"How'd you find this place, by the way? You don't find restaurants with people playing that often here."

I give him a smile. "You're not the only one who travels around the city as a hobby."

He laughs nervously, crossing his arms and adjusting his glasses. "I wouldn't call that a hobby, but okay. May I ask why, though?"

"Well..." I think about that. My first thought was that I shouldn't do it, but what the hell. We already had a one-night stand and opened each up to each other in less than a week. What's a little sharing going to do?

"I needed time to think," I say. "I got tired, and I was right in front of this restaurant. So I went in. The fact that bands play here hooked me, so I this became one of my favorite places to go to."

"Huh. So I take it you're really into music? Or playing?"

"Both, actually. I used to do gigs back in high school. Had a little band going myself. Not really serious, but it was something."

That gets Eric's attention. He leans forward, a glint in his blue eyes. "Really? Who were you with? And did you guys do covers, or did you have some original songs, too?"

"It was with a friend. And we did covers. We weren't really keen on making original stuff."

"I see. So did the two of you disband because of college, or..."

"No," I say. "Well, actually, yeah. You know how it is. You lose touch with people every other year. No biggie."

"Fair enough." Eric leans back, then turns to the stallion and the bear. "Do you miss it?"

I look back at the hyena, then I sigh. "Of course. I loved doing it, and I miss it."

"Of course. Stupid question."

I turn back to him. "It's fine. But it's in the past. Now, I'm aiming to play for Taylor Swift."

He chuckles. "That's a pretty big dream. How's it going?"

"It's... going. There's not much progress, but it's going."

Eric just looks at me, probably wondering if I'm still joking or not. Then he shakes his head. "I hope you do one day."

"Yeah. Me too."

Before we could continue the conversation, a waitress comes over to us. She's a ferret who's about five feet tall and has a kind smile on her face. I could see the faintest glint of recognition on her face, and I feel the urge to act properly.

"Hello and welcome back," she says to me as she hands out our menus. She then turns to Eric. "And welcome, sir. I hope you enjoy your time here."

"I am," Eric says, smiling.

"That's good. Now, what would you like to eat?"

We order our food, Eric taking longer since he has to take a menu. As I do, I stare at the duo onstage again. I must've been staring a bit too intently, because the waitress addresses me.

"The band today is pretty good, aren't they?" she says.

I nod. "That's what we've been saying."

"And that's what the people here have been saying, too. When everyone's saying it, then they must be good."

"Good thing they booked this place. It'd be a shame to miss."

The ferret giggles. "Oh, no, not this time. It's open mic today, and they hopped onstage."

That gets me to sit up and turn to her. "I thought you guys didn't do that."

"It was a suggestion for a while now, but our manager thought to have an open mic every once in a while. It's a great choice, don't you think?"

Eric turns to me. "Hey, you said you did gigs back in high school. You want to go up there after them?"

Eric and the ferret look at me curiously. I look at the stage again, at the stallion singing and the hyena playing the guitar. They seem so into it that to them, there's nothing else in the world aside from the two of them. I want to get up there and play so badly. I want to feel what it's like to be on stage again, having all those eyes on me while I sing. I forgot how it felt and I want to feel it again.

I miss it.

"No thanks," I say. "I don't really feel like it."

"That's a shame," the waitress says. "But do come back when you feel like playing."

"Yeah," Eric says. "I want to hear you sing."

"You'll have to wait for that," I tell the husky.

"Oh, I will."

After that, the waitress walks away with our order. It doesn't take long before she comes back with our food. Eric and I chat about small things as we eat. As we do, the stallion and hyena finish. The stallion reminds us about them and tells us all their socials. The hyena puts his guitar on a case, and as he does, he looks around and his eyes meet mine. We hold eye contact for a second before I look back on my food, pretending it never happened.