Chapter 14 Call Me
Me: Great show last night, Kang.
I send the message without thinking twice. But it’s okay—Kang deserves some sign of life from me after he sent so many messages without giving up. The fact that he cares so much about a stranger whose name he doesn’t even know says a lot about him.
I’m vacuuming the living room carpet. After spending so many days in a state of deactivation, I feel the need to be productive and help out around the house.
It’s the least I can do for Kamila and Andy.
I’m not yet ready to go back out, but if I’m going to stay inside all day, I can at least clean.
I find it surprisingly enjoyable, in fact, because it’s a great distraction.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I try to act natural but fail as I instantly turn off the vacuum and pull out my cell as fast as I can to read Kang’s text.
Kang: I’m glad you liked it, K.
His message puts a smile on my face. I like that he doesn’t mention what happened and refrains from pointing out that this is the first time I’ve texted back in days, after so many messages from him.
It’s as if none of that ever happened. I close my eyes as I think about what to say next to keep the conversation going.
His reply was not a question, so I don’t know if he even expects me to respond.
My phone vibrates again as another text comes in.
Kang: And what is the mysterious K up to today?
Me: I’m cleaning. How about you?
Kang: A little bit of homework. Now I’m composing :)
I furrow my brow. Composing? That word can only mean one thing.
Me: You compose… songs?
Kang: Yes, I like music. I think I’m kinda good at it, although I might be kidding myself.
I imagine him singing with that amazing voice of his and my heart races. I guess having a good radio voice doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a good singer, but something tells me he is. I can’t imagine this guy being bad at anything.
Me: Really? I would’ve never guessed.
Kang: I don’t tell a lot of people. Consider yourself lucky, you know my dark secret.
Me: That’s not a dark secret.
Kang: Hahahahaha, you say that because you don’t know the whole story.
Me: And are you going to tell me? :O
Kang: Depends.
Me: Depends on what?
Kang: I’ll tell you about my singing if you tell me your name. ;)
I bite my lower lip, hesitating.
Me: Why do you want to know?
Kang: Isn’t it obvious? So I can look you up on social media and stalk you.
I laugh out loud at his honesty, but I’m not worried, because I’m not on any social media; I deleted most of my accounts. All I have left is the old Instagram profile I use to check the radio station’s account, but I don’t even have any photos on it.
Me: Well, that doesn’t really make me want to tell you.
Kang: Just kidding… Or maybe not ;)
I scratch my head, imagining the consequences of telling Kang my name.
We live in a small city, as my mother called it: too many people for it to be considered a town but too few to be a major city.
There are probably several Claras, but there is probably only one Klara with K . That unique spelling, causing problems.
Me: I’ll tell you, someday.
Kang: It’s okay, I understand.
Me: But I still want to know the super-secret story behind your music.
Kang: If you call me, I’ll tell you.
I hold my breath. He keeps trying to move things along, always wanting to know more about me.
What is it you’re looking for, Kang? I feel nervous just thinking about talking to him on the phone; it’s hard enough to send him messages, taking my time with every single response, but hearing him live, right in my ear, his beautiful voice would destroy me.
The day I called him by mistake I was overwhelmed with panic, so I didn’t feel nervous about talking to him then, but calling him now, when I’m calm, is another thing entirely. I can’t do it.
Me: You love to negotiate, don’t you?
Kang: Yes, you leave me no choice.
Me: What do you mean?
Kang: You won’t tell me anything about yourself, not even your name. So I have to employ my best tactics, K.
Me: Tactics for what?
Kang: For getting closer to you.
Kang is an expert at leaving me speechless.
I’m about to respond when I receive an incoming call from Kang.
I stare at the phone, moving it from one hand to the other.
Should I answer? Can I handle this? What if I stutter?
What if he notices that I’m left breathless by certain things he says? I don’t want to make a fool of myself.
“Forget the what-ifs, they won’t get you anywhere, Klara,” my mother told me on one of our many afternoons at the lake. “Life is too short to worry about the multiple possibilities or outcomes that might result from every decision we make in the situations we face.”
I accept the call, squeeze my eyes shut, and lift the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
A second of silence, and then I hear that voice that I’ve heard so often, that voice that has helped me through so many dark moments alone, that voice that I have always followed tirelessly.
“Hello, K.”
I swallow, trying to remain calm, but I feel my heart in my throat. “Hello, Kang.”
He chuckles and my legs go weak. “Have I told you before how much I like the way my name sounds when you say it?”
This comment turns my legs to jelly. I can’t say anything for a few seconds, so Kang speaks again.
“Thank you for answering, I thought it might scare you. Now I feel less guilty.”
“Don’t worry…” I need to get the conversation back around to him so that he can do more of the talking. “So, are you going to tell me the dark story of your music?” I ask.
There’s that quiet laughter again. This guy is going to give me a heart attack.
“Yes, we made a deal, and I intend to keep my end of it, at least.”
I frown. “I didn’t say I accepted the deal.”
“You were never going to accept it, K.”
How does he know?
“You weren’t going to call me. I knew you wouldn’t.”
“So you called me.”
Sigh. “Yes, I think I’m getting to know you a little bit.”
“Well, I still want to hear that story.”
“Okay, so by day I’m Kang, diligent student; some evenings, Kang, host of the most popular college radio program in town. And, on some nights, I play my songs at a bar on Fourteenth Street.”
That’s not what I expected. How does Kang have time to do all those things? “I don’t understand, what part of that secret is dark?”
“No one knows it’s me.”
“No one knows you play music at a bar?”
“No one who knows me knows anything about it. Well, except Erick.”
“How mysterious. Why are you hiding it?”
“Well… it’s a part of me that I don’t want to show everyone. That’s why I wear a mask.”
The story just keeps getting better and better. This guy leads a double life. I feel like I’m talking to Superman. By day, he’s a regular guy; by night, he’s a mysterious, masked singer. I can’t stop myself from giggling. I cover my mouth, but I realize he’s heard me. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s funny, I know. You can laugh, K.”
I press my lips together, holding in my laughter. “And what mask is it? Like the Flash?”
“Not far off. It’s actually…” He clears his throat. “Batman.”
I can’t help but crack up as I picture him singing in a crowded bar wearing a Batman mask.
Kang feels the need to defend himself. “It was the best option I could find. I needed a mask that would cover my face but still leave my mouth free so I could sing.”
I’m now laughing uncontrollably.
Kang groans. “Fine, fine, laugh all you want!”
I finally get ahold of myself, out of breath; a few tears have even escaped my eyes. I haven’t laughed like this in so long. I’d forgotten how therapeutic it can be.
“K?”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m here. Thank you! I needed that. I’m still curious as to why you need a mask at all though?”
“If making you laugh comes at my expense, then I’m okay with it. I’m glad I was able to do that for you. Though it was as much for my benefit as it was yours…”
Silence.
Kang coughs, then proceeds. “Anyway, I’ll save the story of the reason for my mask for another day. Now I know you’ll have a reason to continue to talk to me.”
Why are you saying these things to me, Kang?
I take a second to respond, willing my rapidly beating heart to slow down. “Well, then I guess this won’t be the last time you hear from me. Either way, I really enjoyed learning your dark secret.”
“I’d love for you to come see me play one of these nights. Are you twenty-one yet? I don’t even know your age.” Kang suddenly lets out an exaggerated gasp. “You’re not secretly an old woman trying to seduce a young college guy like me, are you?”
“That’s exactly it,” I joke. “That’s why I won’t tell you my name. So you can’t find me in the town’s nursing home records.”
“I knew it.”
I grin like an idiot. “What kind of music do you play?”
“That’s another part of the story you haven’t yet unlocked.”
“What?”
“My information for your information. Shall we resume negotiations?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t mind telling you about myself, but I know that if I don’t ask you for information in return, you’ll never reveal anything about yourself.”
I huff. “You talk as if you already know me.”
“Am I wrong?”
I hold in a chuckle. “Well… Since I already have to wait to hear more about your mask—what do you want in exchange for telling me more about your music right now?”
“Your name.”
“Fine, my name is… Claire.” It’s similar enough to my name, so I’m not technically lying.
Kang sighs. “Why are you lying to me, K?”
This guy is a mind reader. “How do you know I’m lying?”
“After all your reluctance, for you to just say your name so quickly seems suspicious.”
“You seem to be able to read people pretty well without having met them.”
“Actually, I’m very bad at it, but with you…”
My heart is racing again. “With me what?”
“I don’t know, K, things feel so… easy.”
I want to ask what he means, but I don’t think I can handle his answer.
“Klara.”
“What?”
“My name is Klara with a K. Nice to meet you, Kang.”