The Write Thing

Chapter 10

I don't know what's wrong with Rafa. And I don't what's wrong with me when I decided to visit him in his apartment. It was one irrational decision I've made for a while but, I think I know exactly why I wanted to meet him right now.

I pressed on the doorbell as soon as I reached for his room. For a while, I thought he wasn't home when no one is coming out. And just when I'm about to knock on the door, it pulled open. Leaving my hand resting on the air.

The moment I looked up into his face is when I remembered he's been to a fight. There's a cut on the right side of his lips had some contusion on his face.

"Why are here? I didn't order a pizza." I tried to shook my head before speaking.

"I was just checking on you. I saw you got into a fight." He stares at me for a few seconds before looking away, trying to hide his swollen face.

"That doesn't concerns you." He said as he held on the knob.

I wanted to shove away the hair that's getting on his face but, I can't just do that. And not that I had the chance to do so.

"Your lips are bleeding." He quickly wipe it away and that didn't stop me looking at it. "Come on, you should grab something to stop that." I said as I pushed through him.

"What are you doing? I didn't give you permission to enter my apartment."

"But I didn't ask though." I strode to his fridge and search for something useful. "Do you have cold compress?"

"I can handle it myself. You can just go now." Rafa was looking at me the whole time I was scouring through his stuff, but that didn't stop me.

The fact that he's been to a fight last night and yet the bleeding gets worse makes it looked like he can't handle it himself. I can't just leave him like this.

When I found a cloth, I wrapped the ice cubes I saw in his fridge before I walk back the living area where Rafa's looking at me with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Here, apply this to your eyes." I extend him the ice but pause when I notice he stayed in silence and was only looking at me in the eyes.

Is he mad?

"I'm sorry, I scour through you stuff." I grab his hand and place the ice in it. "Use that. That'll help."

"Are you done?" He asked, looking a little annoyed this time. "You can leave now."

I heave out a sigh before speaking. "Actually, that's not just the reason why I'm here." I said as I shove my hands in my pockets. He doesn't respond but I know he's waiting for my words. "About what you said the other night. What do you mean by that? I know I'm a bad singer but what is that suppose to mean?"

"Does it bothers you?"

"Well, obviously. I just can't think what you meant by that.—"

"I'm saying, your work isn't gonna make it anywhere." This time, his words hit me hard and I tried to compose myself.

"What?"

"You see, everyone can write a song but not everyone can write anything they want their songs to look like. When you told us it was a love song was the only time I realize it was love song. You see, song is about to interpret your feelings not for listeners to guess what song is that." A long paused had followed as I look into his eyes.

It confuses me for a while. But as I get to think of it, I start to realize it does makes sense.

"How can I do that?"

"It's not for me to find out. Try to figure it yourself." Was the last thing he said before shutting the door closed.

Did he just tell to my face my songs sucks? Now I cannot be more settled.