Page 28 of Follow My Voice
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.”
