Orion couldn't go back to Cain's place after what he had witnessed. He figured it would be better instead to go to his own place and try to settle his thoughts at the fact that his main squeeze was a dealer.

As soon as he saw Cypress's car parked out back, her knew his best friend was home, however Orion still felt an uneasy anger toward Cypress after hearing his song being played publicly on the radio. And he knew Cypress would become silently judgmental if he learned that Orion was gone all night because he had stayed with Cain. He didn't know why Cypress cared so much about Orion's love life—it was Orion's choice! It was the first time in a long time that he'd been able to be with Cain and didn't regret it.

He entered the house, grabbed the stair railing, and climbed the steps with a frown on his face until he got to the top.

That was odd, the door to his room was open—he could have sworn he had shut it when he'd left the night before. As he approached, he halted at once because he found Cypress sitting on his bed, his face resting on his fist and a look of complete and utter disappointment in his eyes.


It caught him off-guard but before he could defend himself, thinking the expression was because of Cain—he noticed a few of the empty Tranquilicis bottles were pulled out of his night stand drawer and placed on top of it.

"What's going on?" Orion asked, growing more uneasy by the second.

"I could ask the same of you. Why do you have all these pills?"

"They help with my anxiety," Orion told the truth and refrained from pointing out that technically, there were hardly any pills left from those bottles.

"Okay, but Tranquilicis isn't something you can get over the counter. It's something a doctor has to write a prescription for. Your name isn't on these bottles, Rye. Where did you get them?"

Orion swallowed slowly and knew he couldn't outright lie to Cypress's face. They'd been friends for too many years and Cypress would know immediately if Orion was fabricating truth. If he thought about it, he could have guessed Cain wasn't doing things above board because Orion too, had found it odd the name was scratched out. He just didn't question Cain because Cain was going out of his way to get Orion the meds.

"It doesn't matter where I got them—they help. That's enough," Orion felt himself grow terse and defensive.

"Are you sure you aren't developing a dependency? This is a lot of empty bottles," Cypress nodded to the side, towards the bottles. He sounded like his father, the renowned medical professional.

Orion belted out a scornful laugh, "Yeah, like you have the ground to lecture me on becoming addicted to a substance."

Cypress stood with frown and came closer, "Hey, we're talking about something that's technically illegal here. Besides, I won't die from an overdose of nicotine."


Orion rolled his eyes, annoyed that Cypress happened to conveniently forget all the other gross chemicals that caused health issues in cigarettes.

"I'm doing fine. You don t have to worry about me," Orion crossed his arms with growing frustration that Cypress was hassling him about it.

Cypress looked a bit hurt at Orion's abrupt dismissal. But it was Orion who should have felt hurt. Cypress had stolen his music.

"So why do you look so miserable?"

"I heard my song on the radio," he mumbled. It wasn't the only thing that had made him miserable but it was the one thing that directly involved Cypress.

"Why would that make you miserable?"

"Because you stole it. You recorded it, aired it, and gave it to the station without even asking me permission. I wasn't even done with it yet—it was a work in progress and now it's in a final form as far as anyone listening is concerned."

"You should be recognized, and since you're not really playing live anymore, how else is your music going to reach the masses? You should be thanking me for putting my neck out on the line for you!"

"I don't want or need to be recognized for anything!"

"But you deserve it!"

"No I don't. I don't need anything like that," Orion crossed his arms, thinking back to his family—the long hours and late nights falling asleep in the back of tour busses. Feeling alone. "I have seen how recognition leads to fame that interrupts a life. I am fine with just playing my music for my friends and maybe small audiences if I work up the nerve, but I don't want to be recognized for it. I just want people to enjoy it."

"You can't have it both ways. If you want people to enjoy it, you will have to be recognized. People don t just listen to music in a vacuum and not want to know where it came from or who sang it, especially if they want more."

Orion just looked at the floor, not believing he was having this argument with Cypress. They never argued.

"Besides, it was just a song about Cain, it's not like it's going to be your biggest hit," Cypress couldn't help but to seem to snark.

"Fuck off," Orion blurted angrily. He grabbed his acoustic guitar case from the corner of his room with a rare, heightened temper and left. He stomped down the stairs while Cypress chased after him asking what his problem was and for once in his life Cypress was the problem. Orion knew he had to remove himself before he'd say anything else he'd regret.


What would Orion do without an instrument? Without a way to make music? His prickled nerves smoothed over gradually as he strummed out some of his favorite melodies from where he sat on the park bench before surrendering to whatever music formed as an idea in his head and came out in between the strings. It was still a brisk temperature outside, now slightly breezy and the leaves were starting to turn bright oranges and golds. He had to stop thinking about the feeling of betrayal. Cypress had been so rash and judgmental—about Tranquilicis, and Cain—but if he would stop and open his eyes he would realize that Orion didn't write that song about Cain.

He wrote it to communicate his heartbreak over Cypress.

Cypress was the catalyst that made Orion realize he was attracted to men in the first place. He had been ambivalent to dating and romance in general, probably an attitude he picked up from Cypress's asexual tendencies, but after that fateful day when he was sixteen and found Cypress's hand in his, something just clicked inside him. It felt right.

Cypress had made it clear he couldn't be anything more than just Orion's best friend and Orion would rather chop off his hands than lose such a cherished relationship but a part of him still loved and longed for Cypress in ways Cypress wasn't able to give to him. Maybe that's why he tolerated such abhorrent behavior from Cain, because as long as he had someone else to give his love to, he could suppress his desires toward his best friend.

So, being with Cain helped Orion in more ways than Cypress knew.

Cypress also didn't understand how much Tranquilicis had been helping Orion manage his anxiety. It was hypocritical, for Cypress to chide Orion about the dangers of addiction when Cypress was smoking a pack of cigarettes a week.

Orion closed his eyes and played whatever melody popped into his head, inspired by natural beats he could hear and pluck from around him—from the sounds of the city to the rustling in the leaves. This garden was a calming place, a place of refuge for artists who wanted to paint or play music. Orion had come here a few times with Nick perform for tips in high school but that wasn't his reason for being here now. He did it for the pure enjoyment of creation and solace. His poor brain and nerves needed a break.

His melody must have attracted a dog, for one trotted up and looked at him expectantly. A fluffy, black-furred animal that looked to be a somewhat exotic breed.


"Hi there," Orion said, though the animal didn't understand him. Orion felt himself smile and slapped the surface of his guitar to make a purposeful rhythm as he played and the dog sat promptly, seeming to enjoy the change by evidence of its wagging tail and tilt of its head.

Orion couldn't resist the dog's fluffiness any longer. He sat his guitar on the bench and knelt down to pet it. It seemed fond of having its head rubbed right between the ears. He'd always wanted a dog but his father and sister were allergic to animal hair so all they had were birds in his family for pets.

"Sebastian!" the dog perked up at a call and Orion glanced up to see a man in a long, expensive-looking, gray jacket smiling from down the path. The man said 'come' in Takemizese and the dog stood and cantered over to its master.


"I'm sorry, but was he bothering you?" The man asked Orion in Simlish but there was no need.

"Not at all," Orion answered in Takemizese and stood, "I ponder if he might be an admirer of music."

His comment made the man laugh in delighted surprise and he continued to speak in his native tongue, "Sebastian has particular tastes, though I never knew he was partial to music. What name do you play under? Would I be able to buy him an album to listen to?"

It was Orion's turn to laugh, not sure if the man was joking or not, but couldn't help but to be reminded of Cypress's argument that people would want more of his music and therefore Orion must be recognized for it, "I have not created any albums yet, but if and when I do you could find it under Loche, Orion."

"I should not keep you from your playing Mister Loche; thank you for indulging my dog though," the man inclined his head and said to the hound, "Follow."

Orion picked up his guitar and started strumming it again, "I could indulge him to a greater capacity if that is acceptable to you. I have never had an animal as an admirer before."

"I would be delighted if you would accompany us around the gardens," the man smiled, "Sebastian would be as well."

It was only proven so as the dog began to wag his tail again with exuberance and sniff around Orion's shoes.

Orion realized he was being rude and hadn't asked the man his name, "Many apologies, but what is your name? I should have asked during our introduction."

"It is no worry; I am called Bao, Yuzan," the man replied with a smile and then made a slight eye-roll paired with a chuckle, "Though we can continue our conversation in Simlish. I find my native language to be full of burdensome formality."

"Fair enough," Orion agreed with a grin and made the lingual switch.


"It's not common to find a Kashmirian who can speak fluent Takemizese. Where did you learn?" Yuzan asked with amusement.

Orion plucked his guitar strings absent-mindedly as he explained, "I lived there when I was a child."

"Really? Which area?"

"Takemizu Village. My parents had a home there. They were big into the Blue Jasmine Music Festival—did all sorts of shows for it so decided to just live there year-round and perform across the region for many years." He smiled remembering those good parts of his youth. Takemizu Village was a small town nestled between the mountains and so when his parents played their instruments outside, the sound carried back and forth across the valley. It was pure ambrosia for the ears.

"We moved back here when I was nine. So I had a lot of time to learn the language and I kinda had to because of school."

Yuzan made an exasperated face of sympathy, "Unlucky, schools there are so rigid. I hated the drilling...and the punishments for getting out of line."

"I know right!?" Orion agreed, remembering how he was commanded to recite a poem from his readings and he stuttered the words, being too nervous to do it in front of the class. After, the teacher hit his knuckles with a bamboo cane for his bad etiquette. He momentarily stopped playing his guitar and flexed his fingers, the memory triggering a ghosting sensation of pain.

That experience was probably one of the reasons he got so anxious to perform in front of people and why he was so anxious about the possibility of screwing up. This man was the first person he'd ever talked to who understood and related to Orion's experience with Takemizu schooling.

Sebastian made a loud woof to remind Orion that the music had stopped. Yuzan frowned and snapped out "Rude" in Takemizese and Sebastian lowered himself onto his belly and turned over so it was exposed to Orion.

"He is apologizing," Yuzan explained in Simlish, "If you give him a belly rub, then he knows you have forgiven him."

"Wow, you've trained your dog very well," Orion mused handing over his guitar for Yuzan to hold while he knelt to pat Sebastian on his fluffy belly. The canine immediately stuck out his tongue and started wagging his tail happily.


"It takes a lot of practice and discipline," Yuzan replied, returning the guitar to Orion and then made an upward motion with his hand. Sebastian returned sitting onto all four paws. Yuzan reached into a pocket of his long coat and withdrew a baggie of dog treats, opened it, and tossed one at the dog who caught it mid-air in one bite.

"You seem to have plenty of it," Orion smiled. Yuzan regarded him with a raised brow and it made Orion blush a bit. Here he was, passing judgment on someone he'd just met and he felt like he was in second grade again while stumbling over his words, "What I meant is that you look so... world-class and formal and I thought..."

Orion clamped his upper lip over his bottom one and decided to play more of his guitar medley instead.

Yuzan started laughing aloud at Orion's blunder, but it wasn't one of ridicule just abject amusement.

"I assure you I am not as formal as I appear—I suppose by Kashmire's standards it could be seen that way but in fact, any Takemiseze citizen would claim I'm not formal enough. It's my curse in life."

"Not the worst curse to have, all things considered," Orion noted. He was thinking of his own curse—to forever be burdened by anxiety. Thank Plumbobs for Tranqilicis and music. They were the only two things that seemed to work for him anymore. No, there was also a third thing but he didn't dare think of it—not after what had happened earlier.

Both men passed under an arched trellis that had ivy and white flowers climbing it; where the petals were in the midst of falling off the vines and covered the path. Sebastian kept pace next to Orion, looking upward, and almost seemed to be grinning with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

They passed a garden wall in front of a fountain and Orion took a lean against it and closed his eyes. He felt a slight thump next to him and opened one eye to see that Yuzan had joined him—his back against the wall and with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. Sebastian sat patiently in front of them though made no more barks of protest but only because Orion was still playing his music.

Orion shut his eyes again and continued, feeling a deep sense of peace playing in the gardens on this autumn day—it was in such contrast to how he felt coming into the place earlier and the turmoil he had been through since he'd woken up. He picked up the tempo of his song. The song wasn't really a true song, just a winding, improvised string of musical notes. He wouldn't remember it all enough to write it down. It was like a wild animal that couldn't be caught and tamed—never to be replicated again. Yuzan and Sebastian had the privilege of listening to it and knew it even existed.


Eventually, Orion checked the time and realized he had been out far longer than he had anticipated. He walked back to his guitar case and set it inside despite the heartbreaking whimpering noises Sebastian was making as he walked away.

"I'm sorry but have to go," he said as he clicked the case closed and pulled it over his shoulder, "It was a pleasure playing music for you and your dog."

"Do you come to these gardens often?" Yuzan wondered, following after Orion as he made his way to the garden exit.

"I come every once in a while," Orion shrugged and admitted. It wasn't that far from his Grandfather's estate that he'd lived in when he'd moved back to Kashmire.

"I visited it for the first time this weekend and I think I have found it's my favorite public spot in the city so far."

"Why is that?" Orion slowed his pace and Yuzan passed him, turning around and began to walk backward so they could continue to converse face-to-face.

"The flowers," Yuzan waved his hand out with a grin, gesturing at the blooms around them that were slowly wilting with incoming colder weather. The first frost had yet to occur but they were hanging onto life.

"What's left of them at least."

Yuzan nodded, his smile fading at that fact, "Do you have a favorite?"

"Oh, the blue ones for sure," Orion smiled in remembrance as he kept walking forward, "They remind me of Takemizu. We had tons of them outside our house growing in giant bushes. My mother refused to have them trimmed so they ended up taking over our front entrance."

He noticed Zan had visibly straightened himself and his grin was ever broader, "I have them growing in abundance inside my home here in Memosa Bay where they will never wilt—you should come to see if you miss them once winter comes."

Orion stopped walking, unsure what to make of Yuzan's offer. He usually wasn't this talkative or open with strangers but he felt an agreeable yet uncanny connection with the Takimizese man. He finally nodded, "I'd like that."

"To be my friend?"

He was so forward about it. Orion could understand, however, why the question was asked in such a way. In Takemizese culture, it was considered rude or even cowardly to be anything but straightforward with someone.

Orion had never just been asked directly to be anyone's friend before. In his experience, it was a gradual occurrence. He hesitated ever so slightly to think about it. Yuzan looked to be a few years older than himself though dressed more expensive and sensible than a university student would be. Perhaps he had already graduated with an office job somewhere in the city? Orion hardly knew anything about the man except he was from Takemizu, liked dogs and flowers.

"It is, after all, hard to make new friends when you move so far away from home," Yuzan lamented, taking advantage of Orion's pause and plucked a leaf that looked about to fall from a small hedge. Orion agreed. He'd had to start all over when he moved back to Kashmire. Luckily for Orion, on his first day of school in Kashmire, a boy named Cypress Wellington was tapping out the beats to a rock 'n roll song on his desk that Orion recognized from his father's album collection and it prompted Orion to ask him about it. That led to conversations about music, instruments, and the best friendship they had ever known. He remembered those times with Cypress fondly and knew that eventually, he had to forgive his friend because he realized there wasn't a deceiving bone in Cypress's body, and he really was trying to look out for Orion's best interests. It still didn't make him less angry how Cypress went about it though.

It seemed this man was looking for something similar.

Yuzan still was waiting for an answer. He seemed so hopeful. Orion could understand the struggle of being a newcomer to the region and it wasn't pity but understanding that made him nod in sudden earnest and stick his hand out, "Yeah, I'll be your friend."

Genuine happiness erupted across Yuzan's features and he took Orion's hand in his to give it a cordial shake, "Call me Zan."