In Lines Of Love ~ Kimchay

13. Open mic to find love back

As the microphone crackled back to life, Kim's eyes darted nervously around the room, half expecting another wave of indifference.

He cleared his throat, trying to brush off the vulnerability that had leaked into his voice. “You know, I thought I’d be killing it with my jokes by now. Turns out I’m just killing any chance I had of making a living.”

The bartender gave a half-hearted chuckle, and Kim seized it, a slight grin appearing on his face. “At least one person’s laughing! Last week, I told a joke so bad, I think I heard a cricket sigh. I was like, ‘Wow, even bugs are disappointed in me!’ ”

"Alright, so," he started, voice raspy from too many sleepless nights and too much whiskey, "what’s the deal with life? You spend all this time, thinking you’ve got it figured out, and then one day... you just don’t."

Some glanced up, eyebrows raised, unsure if this was meant to be a joke.

A faint smattering of chuckles rippled through the room. Buoyed, Kim leaned in, his voice dropping conspiratorially.

"And love…"

"You think it’s going to last forever, right? And then one day... you wake up, and your angel’s gone. Just like that."

“But seriously, what’s the deal with love? You put your heart out there like an idiot, thinking you’re in this rom-com, and then bam!”

A man in the back sighed and went back to his drink. No one laughed. Kim was used to it by now.

He smacked his hand against the mic stand for effect. “You’re left like the sad extra in a breakup montage.”

The crowd murmured, some exchanging glances. Kim hesitated, but the words slipped out. “And it’s not just losing them that’s hard, you know? It’s… it’s the little things, like not hearing them laugh at your worst jokes or… not having them roll their eyes when you’re being a total idiot.” He let out a bitter laugh, trying to brush it off. “But hey, that’s life, right?”

A handful of people nodded quietly. A few others looked uncomfortable, as if they'd been there before.

“Seriously, though,” Kim continued, gripping the mic tightly, “you ever love someone so much, you think, ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them smiling, keep them happy.’ But then life has other plans. And one day, they’re gone, and you’re just…” He gestured around at the empty, dimly lit room. “Talking to strangers, hoping someone, somewhere, gets it.”

He talked about the ache of losing something you’d thought you’d hold forever.

"And the funny thing," he said, trying to muster a smirk, "is I really thought he’d come back. I mean, who could stay away from me, right? A real charmer.

As Kim finished, the familiar silence lingered like a shadow.

But this time, breaking through the quiet, came a soft, hesitant laugh—a sound that hit Kim like a spark. His eyes darted to the back of the room, his heart racing. And there, almost hidden in the shadows, stood Porchay.

For a moment, Kim was speechless. He fumbled with the mic, a mix of hope and disbelief flooding his expression. “Porchay…?” His voice was barely a whisper.

Porchay stepped forward, that shy, warm smile gracing his lips. “You always were a terrible comedian, you know that?” he teased gently, his voice carrying a playful warmth.

Kim didn’t move. He didn’t trust himself to breathe, afraid this might be a dream, that the fragile sight of Porchay smiling at him would shatter if he did.