Bend & Break | Wooyoung [Ongoing]

12 | he screws it and gets a roommate

Him.

IT WAS A RHAPSODIC TREK back home down alleyways that reeked mugginess, uncertain what should be given credit to. Probably in the know of watching a bad day turn up great by nightfall, I was on a roll. More fitting: a dangerous high that had me eager to do the things I should not. Bearing this in mind is usually the start point for my course of reasoning. If I ever look back on Kim Hongjoong's birthday bash at the rented nightclub, I would chance upon where my life first welcomed Muye into it, say, along Changbin's short essay of the Songs, all the donts sans the dos.

It brought to light how much of what I wouldn't do I had done in a short period.

I was home finally. Outside my building, on the other side of the street, locked in a staring match with the yellowest eyes the average man may ever encounter. They were telling me: no harm if we do another. Supposedly, we were friends. I had supposed. Ever since the day he'd rubbed his coat of black fur up against my leg in declaration of us as allies couple weeks ago. I remembered remembering that felines were first known for their independence not loyalty, other times, they made especial accomodations, probably to cater to a certain mood at the time. Stray cats with humans? They won't stick long enough to judge character. There were a lot of them, homeless cats—around these parts (ah, isn't she just wonderful? Just.) It helped that I grew up in a brood of animal lovers. Not just me and my parents, but the many other Jungs as far as the eye could see. We shunned no one—living and organismal. Better yet, the compassion we were sometimes stingy to give to man, we gave to beast. Still, we dubbed ourselves humanitarians without penitence. This black fellow here with a pair of looking balls that almost glow in the dark became a regular since the day I intentionally placed a can of sardine where he could see it.

The cat, he was always studying. Something to do with trust, I'm sure. Former humans have not been pleasant, (But this one, he seems different, he may think and think some more: even then ... I must be on my claws. You never know.) One paw forward, then another. I squated, ransacked my bag of purchases for sardines. Yes, we had a ritual. It's tradition, he knows. I yanked the can open, set it between us, his nostrils getting a whiff of fishy. The first sniff was contemplative, then a series of them. He looked at me, questioningly: (Is this the stuff?). With one finger, I shoved the can closer to him, nodding with a hum: (Yeah, that's the stuff.) He let down his guard his guard and went in.

This is where I wait. It was expedient that I did. Tonight would be the start of something new for unemployed man and homeless kitty. What if all these months of being the Pavlovian altruist he ever did see was a pointer to this day. My lonesomeness having began to register to me has me needing any-goddam-body for companionship. Did this grant clarity to Muye's bewitchment and me?

No. It didn't.

Either he was extremely starved, not the type to savour his food, or some other third option not meant for my knowing (a thing with genetics or anatomy perhaps?) he inhaled the fishes. Every last of it. His head raised to acknowledge that I had done well, his look, I translated to mean bless you, but maybe the twitch of his nose, the following mew was catspeak for bitch. No, the body rub of a tomcat against the leg is surely thank you. (You have done well, Good Human. Exceptionally well.)

"You're welcome," I said to him, long gone on self-consciousness. I didn't care that passersby could stumble upon me chatting with unlikely company. A time came in one's life, whether age or circumstance, that left them unruffled by the things that usually did ... ruffle them. With caution, I picked him up—no sign of retaliation just another cry, a surprised one maybe: (Dude!) He weighed nothing. Poor guy. "Ever had a roommate?"

This time, it was a meow paving way to a yawn. You couldn't even tell when one stopped and another started. To be honest, I saw part of myself in him. Tomorrow I may wake to him slashing shut my left eye (or the right), but not before he's pissed in my mouth while I slept. But we can sort out our differences if need be.