Fill My Heart With Song

Fly Me To The Moon

Let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby, kiss me

Fill my heart with song
And let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you...

✨🌙 ✨

Jeongguk loves the rain. It reminds him of so many things. Feelings mostly. He can rarely pinpoint what they mean, though. It's been like this his whole life. Like a piece of the puzzle is somehow missing.

Maybe it's one of these days, he thinks, that depression hits a little harder. Yes... That must be it.

His feet crash on the cobbled street as he walks home from the bar he's working at. He likes this life. It's simple and the tips are good.

But when he reaches the bus station, his eyes travel momentarily to the jazz club opposite to him.

It's an old place, Jeongguk knows. The sign says it's been here since the 1920s or something. The faint sound of Sinatra's song echoes from inside.
Somehow Jeongguk feels his heart trembling at the sound of the singer's voice. He's never been a big fan of jazz. More like a rock kind of guy but sometimes the urge to listen to old pieces of music is strong. Again, Jeongguk doesn't know why.

And then he sees him. A man in black pants and a simple white shirt, dancing by himself, surrounded by old couples. His hair is pushed back and he is smiling a little as he lets the music sway his body.

Jeongguk also notices that his sleeves are rolled up, revealing his charismatic limbs that move elegantly with the tempo.

There's something about him that makes Jeongguk want to cross the street and go inside. He isn't sure what this is, though.

A pull? Perhaps. For Jeongguk now feels like a magnet, drawn to the stranger without an explanation.

The music carries on and the man continues to dance. Rain falls and Jeongguk now runs, crossing the street and standing outside the glassy door. This feeling of emptiness has somehow disappeared.

Just a closer look, he thinks as he pushes the door. A look never hurt anyone, right?

So when Jeongguk pushes the heavy door, his mind floods with the sound of jazz. It feels familiar. Like a cup of hot chocolate after a long summer. You know how it tastes but it's been long since you had it.

Then his eyes spot the man still dancing alone. His hands are almost inviting him to go there, screaming come here and dance with me.

But Jeongguk doesn't. He simply walks to the bar and sits on the stool feeling flustered.

"Would you like something to drink?" The blonde man behind the bar asks.

"Just a soda..." Jeongguk murmurs, eyes traveling between him and the lone dancer.

"Sure. I see you've also noticed him ," the man adds.

"I-" Jeongguk starts, feeling embarrassed for his indiscreetness.

The man, though, smiles. "It's okay. He doesn't mind. He knows it's a bizarre sight to be dancing alone amidst old love."

"Old love?"

"Yes. Haven't you seen the people in here? No one is under seventy. This place is for those who want to remember the good old days when music made people feel something."