the right side of my neck still smells like you

"Hey, Iwaizumi! I gotta head out early today. Don't forget to lock up, alright?" My boss shouted as the remaining guests left the bar, "I trust you with this place, but you know that already!"

I nodded my head and continued mopping up the floors. I scrubbed the toilets and reorganized the shelves of snacks and sparkling sodas. The TV was still on, playing a fuzzy static of midnight news reports. It served as excellent white noise as I wiped down the grease-stained tables.

Every now and then, the news would switch back to a segment on Oikawa and his "iconic legacy"; or at least, that was how the man on the TV described his career. When I looked up, Oikawa would flash on the screen, grinning right at me. With that polished, airbrushed face, he looked like an entirely different person. After spending so much time with him back in our hometown, I'd forgotten that there was this Oikawa: the one adored by all of Japan, glowing on the billboards of every city intersection.

My Oikawa had sleepy eyes and a smile you had to fight for, and I liked him better.

"Hey, what are you watching? That guy looks familiar." I rolled my eyes upon hearing the jingle of the little bell on our door. Couldn't they see that we were closed!? These fucking customers.

"Excuse me, but unfortunately—" Oh. Of course. That smug smile. "Oikawa? What are you doing here?"

"I saw you through the window. You've never told me when your work hours are exactly, but I see you're around on Friday nights. Checked and noted."

"Nope, this is cursed knowledge. I can't have you bothering me at work." (This was a lie). I would actually love for Oikawa to be around during my shifts. He would charm the jaded businessmen and divorced forty-year-olds; that's for sure. It would take the work off of me.

"Well, I won't bother you then." He took a rag and began wiping down the round tables. "I'm just here to help."

"Take a bottle of surface cleaner, at least." I smirked. "Stupidkawa."

He came back with an apron, plastic gloves, and a giant bottle of blue liquid. Ridiculous. As he scrubbed, Oikawa watched his own interview playing and streaming on the TV. On the screen, he wore an expensive suit, and he talked to the professional reporters and talk show hosts with this peculiar, rehearsed grace. It was seeing two versions of him collide in one room.

Oh, of course. Volleyball will always have a special place in my heart. This is not the end. I have many things planned for the future with my lovely girlfriend, Ainu. We can't wait for all of Japan to hear about this new journey ahead. Lots of exciting, beautiful things will happen, so although one chapter of my life has ended, I'm excited for the world to see what we'll bring to the table next. Keep your hopes up, Japan! I know I will too!

Oikawa furrowed his brows as he watched himself talk. It looked like he was questioning this alter-ego of himself. I wondered what "things" he had planned with Ainu. He'd never mentioned these "things" to me before. I grew curious.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, almost instantly. The question no longer felt awkward or tense between us. It was almost as if checking in on each other was just a normal part of our friendship again.

"That. Me. On the screen. I hate it." He took the remote and switched the TV off. "I'm so good at lying. It almost scares me at times. I have no idea what I'm doing, Iwa-chan. Why do I even agree to these interviews?"

"Cause' you're getting paid."

"Fine, I guess, but I'm just waiting for them to replace me with a new face. I could see it happening. This is what happens. People get bored. They move on. I become nothing."

At least you're not a faceless bartender like me , I thought to myself. Yet, the fear and anxiety in Oikawa's words were not too dissimilar from my own loathing thoughts.

"Let me make you a drink. Only if you want," I offered, knowing that he hadn't been drinking like he did in the past.

He smiled. "Just one. I've been cutting back."

I poured two gin and tonics for us, a favorite amongst the classy executives who come by for happy hours. Oikawa took a seat at the bar, and I pulled a chair into my usual spot. It was what I was paid to do: chat with my regulars and listen to people let out their worries. I turned the TV back on and changed the channel to one that only showed music videos. For what I know, Oikawa had never been featured in a music video, so this channel felt safe.

It was a music video called "SSWB" by an indie-electronic band called D.A.N. The tempo put me in a vibrant yet contemplative mood. We drank while gently humming along to the song.

I took out my wallet to put in some cash for our drinks, and right away, Oikawa leaned over the counter and grabbed it out of my hands.

"Hey, give that back!"

"You're not paying. I was the one who showed up unannounced." He then touched the photo I'd been keeping in there. It was the one that my mom sent with her letter and monthly box of vegetables. The polaroid of the two of us as kids. No, I didn't want him to see that. Fuck. "Wait, what's this? You've never shown this photo to me before."

"My mom sent it in a letter. It was a few weeks ago. I've just been keeping it in my wallet. It fits in there, so why not, you know?" I tried playing it cool. It sort of worked?

He stuffed a wad of cash into my wallet and gave it back to me. "I didn't know you were the type of person to carry around memories like that. Quite sentimental. I'm always discovering new things about you. Anyway, here you go. Don't argue with me, and just take the money, Iwa-chan. These late-night shifts are hard, and I know those depressed boomers don't ever tip well."

I took my wallet and glanced at the photo of us. I then looked back at Oikawa. We looked so different, and yet, it felt as if nothing had changed at all. "Look at your buck-tooth smile. Thank god you got braces in middle school. You were such a little beaver. It was golden."

"Ha, wish I still had those teeth," Oikawa joked. "Also, I have a little game in mind."

"Hm? Right now? It's past midnight." I poured myself a glass of wine. Whatever Oikawa had planned, I needed some booze.

"It's nothing too crazy. How about this: let's pretend that we're just meeting for the first time, and we're introducing ourselves to each other. You know, like we're discovering each other from the beginning."

I smirked. "Interesting."

"And only half-truths are allowed! We're playing a different version of ourselves."

"Oh, lord... so we're fucking cosplaying as ourselves?" I laughed. "Okay, I'm intrigued, and I can't say no, so go for it."

He exited the bar. Then, he marched right back as a man pretending to be lost and confused.

"I'm looking for someone," he asked in an innocent voice, "I'm searching for... a friend."

I snorted at how ridiculous he was. "Oh god. Hello, I am Iwaizumi. I can be your friend."

"Finally," he ran over and pretended to faint on the countertop, "I'm Oikawa Toru. I've been searching for a friend for sixty-eight years."

"Why so long?"

"The fire of my heart and soul was killed when I became a professional athlete. For years and years, I never found true friends in the superficial world of fame. Everyone was out to use me, but there was one boy from my childhood. I'll never forget him."

I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing. "Is that so? What was he like?"

"Well, now that you mentioned it, he looked a bit like you. He was more attractive though. We went on many adventures together. With him, every day was a new beginning. We climbed many trees, and he showed me what being alive should feel like."

"What is being alive?" I leaned into the bar, with a melodramatic smirk.

"It's this amazing sensation. It's being unafraid to take on your craziest dreams... to be your fullest, wildest self. I would be completely lost if those memories were stripped from me, but I never allowed myself to forget about this boy."

"Well? What happened afterwards? Do you know where he is?"

"My sad soul couldn't take a life of fame and fortune anymore. I moved out to a seaside town, where I lived alone for the rest of my life. Yet, I couldn't erase his face from my mind. There was something special about him, and I devoted the rest of my life to finding my first friend. I will always wonder where he is."

"Well, I am just a simple bartender, so I can't help you very much, but I do have a similar friend. Just like yours... also from my childhood."

"Yes?"

"Oh, he was a wild card. Always dragging me out of my house. We did things that should've gotten us in trouble, but he had a way with words. He charmed everyone he met. We soon lost touch. After growing up, I decided to move out to Nara, where I built myself a boat and spent a life as a fisherman before opening up this dusty ol' bar. Till' this day, I do not know where the boy went."

"You remind me of the boy in my memories." Oikawa smiled.

"Well, I was about to say the same thing. You remind me of the boy in my memories."

"I think the boy in my memories would want us to go dancing tonight."

"Really? From my telepathic powers, he really doesn't seem like someone who enjoys the club scene." I felt silly doing this, but it was fun. Now, the game was coming to an end, and we were transitioning back to our normal selves. "Okay, I'm gonna need another shot if we're going out."

"Okay, wasn't that fun, Iwa-chan? Isn't it nice to play different versions of yourself?"

"Yeah, but wow, what a sad conversation."

"Didn't it make you glad that it was only a faux-conversation of half-truths?"

"Yeah, yeah." I took a shot of vodka. "Ready?"

"Ah, yes." His smile revealed an immense excitement.

I locked the doors of the bar, and right away, we sprinted down the city streets.

~

Oikawa led us down into a boiler room club. It was his new favorite spot, a place he hadn't stopped telling me about for quite some time now. In the heart of Shibuya, crowds flocked for the music and stream of neon lights. Bodies moved and swayed to the beat of house, techno, and new-wave punk. It was electric. It was like nothing else you could ever find on this planet. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, and Oikawa grabbed my hand, carving a pathway through groups of people. We wandered until we found our own little pocket of space. Everyone around us looked like otherworldly creatures, flowing and floating beneath the ghostly scatter of light and soft smoke.

As we blended into the crowds, Oikawa and I danced like madmen. We were swinging our arms and swaying our bodies until the music wrapped us in a trance. I could see why Oikawa loved this space. People were dancing in their own world. No one cared about how others were moving or how they appeared. No one was perceiving each other. We were all simply being completely, utterly alive .

Unapologetically human, you could even say.

No one recognized Oikawa, and even if they did, they were all too busy dancing.

"Thoughts!?" Oikawa leaned into my ear and yelled through the music.

I put my hand around his neck and yelled back into the side of his face. "I love it!"

Shades of blue light casted shadows on Oikawa's face. Baby blues on his forehead. Darker, indigo hues against his cheekbones. He looked like a storybook character. At some point, I drank another shot. The lights changed into shades of reds and oranges. I took another shot—again. And again. Maybe, once more...

Oikawa offered me his hand as the world blurred around me. We danced and danced until my legs turned completely numb. With all the beautiful bodies around me, it was a bit terrifying. Yet, it was also electrifying. The world was a wave of magnetic energy. I felt it all, rushing against our skin and muscle.

"Iwa-chan, you good? How many drinks did you have?" Oikawa placed a hand on my forehead. He pushed my hair back and touched my cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm A-Okay, alrighty..." I continued dancing to the reverberating drums of the house music. "Let's dance, Discokawa! Dance! Dance!"

"Ahh, I think it may be time for us to get you tucked in bed. You're trippin' all over the place."

I pouted my lips and held on to his shoulders. "Nooo..."

"Yes..."

Oikawa called a taxi. Next thing you know, I had my arms around his shoulders, and I was on the verge of passing out and suffocating him against the car door. Thankfully, that did not happen.

~

Somehow, I made it back alive. All thanks to Oikawa, of course. I had an arm around his shoulder the whole time: from leaving the club to getting back into my apartment. Once I got out of the club's dark dance floor, illuminated only by pulsing strobe lights, the world became less chaotic. I was able to get a grasp back on reality again. Things were in control again.

By the time we got back to my apartment, I began to sober up.

"Oikawa, are you going back home?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Yeah, I was planning on it. You know that I live down the street, so if you want to hang out tomorrow, we can—"

"I just want to sleep with someone tonight."

"You're drunk, Iwa-chan. We're not doing that."

"No!" I defended myself. "Not like that . I wasn't asking to have sex with you."

"Oh," he paused for a moment. "I wasn't... I didn't think that... hm, what do you want exactly?"

"Just someone to sleep next to. It's been so cold and lonely, Oikawa. Just for one night. As friends."

"Okay, but we're just sleeping."

"Just sleeping."

"Just sleeping," he repeated again, drilling it into my mind. I was very drunk, but he made sure that I knew the ground rules. It was what I wanted as well, but even then, my vulnerability made me feel a bit more embarrassed. My drunk self had zero inhibitions. Would I regret this? Hm, not sure.

"Yes, Oikawa. It's just sleep time. Only sweet dreams."

"Well, if it makes you fall asleep, I guess I'll stick around... the things I do for you."

He first got me changed out of my sweaty clothes and into my pajamas. Then, he threw on my torn flannel and old fleece pants on himself. He folded our clothes into a neat pile before getting into bed. In my slanted, twin-sized mattress, we were practically glued to one another.

I couldn't remember much, but I knew it was tender. & soft. Oikawa nuzzled his face into the side of my neck. He wrapped his arms around my drunk, exhausted body. & he was warm. So warm. Like a protective guardian angel. Bringing so, so much warmth into my cold room. I loved it. I loved it so, so, so much. I didn't even want to dream because reality was so wonderful.

"You reek of vodka, Iwa-chan." He softly laughed. "Goodnight."

"Night," I muttered before passing the fuck out.

~

I woke up way past noon. Ugh, groggy. Shit, my eyes were crusty.

He'd left a text message, telling me that he had an early morning meeting. Nonetheless, Oikawa had left pancakes, fresh berries, and coffee. I touched my blanket and the pillow he slept on.

The right side of my neck still smelled like him, like sandalwood and fresh cedar. It was such a nice scent. I didn't want it to ever go away.

Then, that realization made my heart beat at the speed of light.

Oh god. Oh god. What the fuck did I do?

Why am I feeling this? Oh fuck.