West: The Sun From Another Star

This is a familiar room with a large bed, dark-blue sheets, thick curtains, a bedside table, and a wardrobe. This room has been mine for as long as I can remember, from when it was full of toys scattered everywhere to when it was filled with high school books. And now, those books have been moved elsewhere.

 

This room has changed over time and through my life, but having to move out after graduating from high school, it's become emptier than it should be. Even so, it remains a familiar room to me. This house is still a home, even though some things are gone. Knowing that my mother left many good memories in this house made me realise that it wasn't the sad house I once thought it was.

 

The reason Direk and I moved away and only returned once a year was that we couldn't stand being in a place full of our memories. But actually, my mother's last memory was of us being together here, and that was the time she was happiest. Last night was the first night in many nights that I slept soundly. Since leaving the country to find my mother, I haven't often had a full night's sleep. I don't know if it's because of the accumulated fatigue of many days or because I finally feel at peace.

 

Perhaps the latter reason is more numerous.

After crying myself to exhaustion last night, talking to Direk, thinking about a lot of things, and getting advice from that kid, I realised all of that made me feel better, as if I had let go of everything I used to carry. It's like being reborn, becoming a new version of myself. I've escaped the abyss of despair, fully armed, ready to face any madness in the world. Whether it's punches, kicks, or anything else, just come at me.

 

That's all I can say, who can get better that quickly? Give me a little more time. Even though I've accepted it, that doesn't mean I can accept it easily. Maybe things won't get completely better, but at least I can live with reality and no longer be in pain.

 

I woke up around nine o'clock, showered, and got dressed quickly as usual. I went downstairs to grab a bite to eat, then went back upstairs and opened the door to a room I frequented – the music practice room. As you know, I play drums. The story started in high school. 

 

Because I liked rock music, I learned to play drums. Direk bought me a drum set and built a soundproof room, so I wouldn't disturb anyone. Later, when my friends found out I played drums, we formed a band to play music for fun, writing our own bad songs to listen to each other. Then, unexpectedly, our band became famous. Our band was very popular at school and in the surrounding area, but by the time we graduated, things had changed.

I looked at my music practice room, where the old drum set was still there, along with the other instruments. Direk had bought them in case I wanted to try playing a different instrument. I played a little, but didn't really enjoy it. My favourite thing was the drums, followed by the guitar.

 

I went to check and found nothing unusual about my drums because Direk regularly sends someone to maintain them. Every time I returned, everything was normal and in the same place. I connected my phone to the Bluetooth speaker, selected a song, and then a familiar rock song started playing. I held the drumsticks in my hand, familiar with the rhythm, and struck the drumhead.

 

I let my whole body move to the rhythm of the song without thinking, as if I were releasing everything along with that powerful melody. There was no restraint, not even a little. After a few songs, I started to feel tired and needed to rest, drink water, and push back the hair that was uncomfortably covering my face. Sweat was pouring down my face even though I had the air conditioner on. While I was resting, I heard a notification on my phone. I reached for it.

 

That dwarf...?

I squinted at the notification for a long time, not knowing why. When I figured it out, I opened it. It seemed like it had sent the message about ten minutes ago.

 

ss: Is there no food?

☀️: Bread with jam is on the shelf.

I'll switch places.

ss: Found it.

☀️: Would you like to eat something else?

ss: It's okay.

☀️: Come up here after you finish eating.

Second floor, on the right, the room with the black door.

ss: Why?

☀️: You can play guitar, right?

Come and play with us.

ss:?

Okay.

 

Seeing that reply, I put the phone down; it was nice to have someone to hang out with. I sat down to rest, waiting until he opened the door and came in. His expression was no different than usual; he looked around the room for a while.

 

“…” It turned to look at me but said nothing.

 

"Which ones can you play?" I asked.

 

"Guitar, keyboard."

 

"Try playing the guitar."

 

“…” The other person didn’t reply, just went to get an electric guitar and plugged it into the amplifier. They sat down, placed the guitar on their lap, put their fingers on the chords, and began to strum. I was a little surprised that they chose an electric guitar. The sound of the guitar solos filled the air, leaving me stunned by their playing style.

 

"Wow." I blurted out unintentionally without realising it. This short guy always surprises me with something. On the outside, he seems unremarkable, but there are actually many interesting things hidden within. I've noticed everything from his painting to the music he listens to, the novels he reads, and his guitar playing.

 

"Great! Have you ever played in a band before?"

 

He shook his head.

 

"Have you ever performed or participated in any competitions?"

 

"Never."

"Never?"

"YES."

"Playing alone?"

"That's right."

 

"That's a shame, you're so good," I said. He didn't reply, just turned to look around the room. If he's that good, he must have practised a lot. And he practised so much but didn't show it off to anyone? "Then why do you play?"

 

"Just feeling happy."

 

"Are you just playing for fun?"

 

"YES."

 

"Don't you want to try your hand at this field?"

 

"No."

 

"Why so?"

 

"There's a lot of work to be done."

 

"You mean painting?"

 

"YES."

 

I shrugged slightly and said nothing more. It was probably similar to my past; I used to play drums alone, simply because I enjoyed it. I practised hard because I wanted to get better, and the better I got, the more fun I had. I used to think playing alone was enough, until someone invited me to join a band, and I realised that playing music with others was much more enjoyable, especially with talented people playing alongside me.

 

"So, what songs can you play?"

 

"That's quite a lot."

 

"How about this song?" I asked, showing him my phone since his seat wasn't too far from an open space. He frowned at it, then shook his head. I continued scrolling through the songs until I found one he could play.

 

"Really? You can't play the easy songs, but you can play the difficult ones?"

 

"I liked this song so much that I tried playing it."

 

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

 

"YES."

 

When the song started playing, I waited for the guitar to lead the way. I needed to turn on the music because we'd never played together before; it would be a bit difficult to synchronise, and there was no singer either. After a while, when the drum beat came on, I started playing, letting my body move naturally. The guitarist turned to look at me with a slightly surprised expression, but I didn't pay much attention because I was focused on playing the drums. When we finished playing, I asked:

 

"What are you looking at?"

 

"That's cool."

 

"Huh?"

 

"That drumming just now looked really cool! You're a great player." He said in his usual slow, calm tone and expression. I frowned in surprise at the compliment delivered in such a tone and with such an expression. When it comes to drumming, I'm very confident in my abilities. I'm used to being praised for my skills. I raised my eyebrows as usual, intending to show on my face that "that's obvious."

 

"You're pretty good too, with the guitar."

 

"Yes." He nodded slightly before putting down his guitar and standing up, walking towards me as if he had something to say, "Do you mind?"

 

"What's up?"

 

"Teach me."

 

"Empty?"

 

"YES."

 

"Why do you want to play?"

 

"That sounds interesting."

 

"Yeah, that's a good idea." I stood up to let him sit down. He took the drumstick and started hitting it here and there with great enthusiasm. His eyes began to light up a little. This green-haired kid really does give it his all in whatever he does.

 

I started by giving a brief explanation. It listened attentively and seemed to be trying to memorise every detail. I began by playing simple rhythms for it to watch, and it followed along within a few minutes. I don't know if it's genius, but what I sensed was that it was very serious.

 

Judging by how good they are at many things, they're probably a keen learner. They want to do this, try that. Contrary to their seemingly lazy exterior, once you get to know them, they're eager to learn more. They're an interesting person, one you don't always meet. They may seem ordinary on the outside, but they have many hidden talents.

 

And what it did to help me this time, I still remember everything clearly, including those words that keep repeating in my head. I glanced intently at the drummer; its determined expression was truly more captivating than ever. It wasn't until the drumstick fell from its hand that I snapped out of my daze. Because the drumstick flew near me, I picked it up and returned it. It took the drumstick in return.

 

"If you hold it like this, it's bound to fall."

 

"How should I hold it?" it asked. I took its hand and guided it in holding the drumstick correctly. I gently squeezed its little hand to encourage it to grip tighter. Why is its hand so small? This is why the drumstick fell out.

 

"Hey," it called. I immediately let go of its hand.

 

"Sorry, I was just daydreaming a little."

 

"Hmm." That was its only reply before turning its attention to the drum in front of it, using the drumstick grip I had shown it earlier.

 

“Go ahead and play first, I’ll be back in a bit,” I said. The other person didn’t reply, just nodded. I walked out of the music practice room, stopped at the familiar balcony, searched for a cigarette in my pocket, but found only an empty pack. I threw it away with little satisfaction. What the heck was that just now...?

 

Ever since I saw it playing the drums so intently, I found it fascinating, and then I thought about how those hands would fit perfectly in mine. I started to feel impressed by many things he did, and it naturally piqued my interest without me even realising it. The songs he listened to, the novels he read… 

 

Damned…I don't think so. Damn, that's definitely not right! I raised my hand to rub my head in confusion, conflicting thoughts swirling within me. No way!

 

But I didn't feel bad at all; on the contrary, I felt quite good. That short guy helped me a lot, and he was also very interesting. The songs he listened to weren't popular with many people!

 

So what? There are so many people in the world who listen to music, and you like some sluggish, robot-like person whose battery is about to die? And what's wrong with being sluggish? What's wrong with him? Nothing's wrong with him, right? He’s short too, and his hair is blue. Who normally dyes their hair blue and walks around school like that? But why talk about normal people? You're not normal either, are you, Thit?

 

I've always looked at people's chests before, but that short guy had nothing. Anyway, it's just the surface. I don't really like that kind of person. Those things are just superficial, not important at all. Besides, if I'm handsome, why would I nitpick about other people's looks? Yeah, I agree!

 

So what? Didn't I use to think I wasn't interested in love? But if it comes, then I'll just accept it, right? And what if I don't accept it? Like, just ignore it, let everything go, and this feeling will eventually disappear on its own.

 

But will it really disappear when I find that short guy so interesting? It's not easy to find someone who can make me feel this way. I might never meet anyone like him again. I'd regret it later if I let him go!

 

Damn it! It feels like I'm arguing with myself, like there's another person inside me, it's giving me a headache! What should I do now?

Yes, call Fah! I immediately called him, and waited a long time before he answered.

 

(What is up?)

"Fah, can I ask you something?"

 

(What is up?)

 

"Uh... um... damn, how should I put this? Well, let's put it this way, back when you liked your wife, how did you realise it?"

 

(...Meat.)

"What?"

 

(What a strange question!)

"Just answer me then!"

 

(What's wrong with you?)

"Just answer me quickly!"

 

(...Well, I guess I like him. I find him cute and just want to be around him. Something like that. But, let me ask you, why are you suddenly asking that?)

 

"Is that all? Adorable, want to be around? What does 'adorable' even mean? I've never understood what 'adorable' means." Actually, from the day I was born until now, I've never understood that feeling. What others call cute, I don't see at all. I don't understand what cuteness even means.

 

(Um... So, this is your business, after all? You like someone, right?)

 

"Hey, why do you think it's me?"

 

(But you just said you didn't understand the feeling. Besides, who else could it be besides you?)

 

"Uh... well, never mind. Just answer me quickly."

 

(You're confused, aren't you?)

"Do I look suspicious?"

 

(You look obviously flustered. You like Dao, don't you?)

 

"Damn it, Tonfah, you're amazing!" I frowned, thinking to myself, this guy is incredibly perceptive!

 

(I saw you hanging out with him often, so I guessed that. You weren't like this before.)

 

"Yeah, it's that short guy. But I don't think I'd like him. No, definitely not!"

 

(Really? If you're so sure, why did you call and ask me?)

 

"Oh yeah... but, Tonfah, it's my fault..."

"What about you?"

 

"Well... well, me! Damn it!" I blurted out a swear word, not knowing what else to say. Fah was right; if I wasn't sure I liked him, I wouldn't have called him. Because the other half of me had already admitted it, that I really did like him, damn it!

 

(You think someone like you could possibly like someone, right?)

 

"You know everything, don't you? You must be a parasite in my brain!"

 

(It's not hard to guess. Someone like you getting involved in love is quite unusual and unbelievable. I was surprised you even asked me about this. Jo and Hill would be speechless if they heard it.)

 

"Right? That's strange, Fah. How could that be? I've never cared about these things before. I think it's normal for you guys to have boyfriends/girlfriends."

 

(Tell me what you think.)

 

I recounted everything that had been swirling in my head to Fah, at least what I could remember.

 

(Well, according to what you said, he’s a really interesting person. He’d be a great match for you.)

 

"Is it a good match?"

 

(Just right. Not too much, not too little. Right?)

 

"Yeah... I guess so."

 

Well…

Not too much, not too little, everything fits perfectly, truly flawless.

 

(If you let this person go, you'll probably never meet anyone like them again.)

 

"What if I just ignore it, just let it all go? But actually… damn it, I don't know anymore. I'm so confused, like… damn it, it's me! Me, this kind of person!"

 

(There's no rule that says you have to be a certain type of person to be able to fall in love.)

 

"...Damn, what you said sounds reasonable."

 

(Then answer me one question first, it's easy, okay?)

“…”

 

(Which do you prefer, having him by your side or not having him?)

 

Fah's question silenced me. I tried to think for a moment, searching for an answer. And then, without realising it, I let out a deep sigh.

 

"Fah..."

(Star?)

 

"I think... I like it better when he’s around."