The last time I saw Harry, he was buying me dinner with his January paycheck. We caught each other up on our lives but there really wasn’t much to say; nothing had changed since the last time we’d gotten together, seeing as we were both still at our respective crossroads. For him, it was music or school and as for me, I persisted in my search for the next job, a better job.
I liked to ask Harry where he would be if he could be anywhere right now, what he would be doing. He never had a satisfactory answer, that bastard. Whenever I urged him to drop out and pursue music, that goofy grin of his would tumble from his lips. I didn’t have the heart to push him. So we walked the streets and talked about people. Anything happening with Jared? No, of course not. Have you met anyone? Nah.
I thought back to the night I met Harry. I had finished watching a movie about a gay couple in New York with Kevin, and we went to have dinner with this Harry, his friend from high school. We were having samgyeopsal in a reasonably busy joint in Hongdae when Kev and I commented on Harry’s unusually sparkly eyes.
“They have that cartoon twinkle,” I said, as he flipped the meat.
“Ha, really? I didn’t know they were that sparkly.”
Harry is my good friend now; he always manages to see me even though we don’t live in the same city. And as I said before, we have our good days and bad days. No, scratch that; we have great days and terrible days. We don’t seem to experience anything in between, not us two. And I don’t know if it was something about that night, or if it was he who changed or I, but I never saw that sparkle again.