At nine o'clock in the morning, Fu Cuo came out from the back door of the bar and locked the door. There is a long alley ahead. Today is a fine day. The winter sun shines in from the alley. Occasionally there will be stray cats here. They are all after dark, and they hide without a trace as soon as dawn. He will bring Give them something to eat, but never linger, stray animals should be wary of humans. But there will still be one or two bold cats who will visit him regularly every day and are not afraid of his approach.
Later, one of the cats never appeared again. He searched around, but he couldn't find the cat, but he found a little milk cat waiting to be fed. Later, he hugged the milk cat to Yao Ke, who was killed by Yao Ke. The little guy was so fascinated, I asked him where he got it, and he said he picked it up. Yao Ke envied him: "You are so lucky, you can pick up cats while walking, and you are such a beautiful abyss cat!"
"You don't know if you're beautiful until you grow up."
Yao Ke had already fallen into the beauty of the milk cat, and almost stuffed his head and neck into a cardboard box. After sucking for a while, he raised his head and asked him behind the bar: "What name do you give it?"
"Don't call me King of the Abyss, everything is fine."
"What the hell is the king of the abyss!" Yao Ke giggled behind his back.
Today is the last day to feed them, and he will not come in the evening. He put the prepared two bowls containing cat food in the depths of the two cardboard boxes in the corner, and then sent Yao Ke a WeChat message.
Yao Ke's avatar is that adopted kitten, which has grown up, and she has also been told that it is really beautiful. He came to resign today, and originally wanted to pack up his things and take them away, but when he walked into the small backstage room, he found that he couldn't take anything with him, except for the stack of CDs on the table. In the end, he still didn’t take these CDs with him. These CDs were stacked on the mahogany table many years ago, and he took them away. They are just a stack of CDs, and staying here will be a kind of memory.
Yao Ke must be lying in bed at this time, so she didn't see it until after noon after sending the WeChat message. Fu Cuo finished sending the WeChat message, carrying the black backpack that came empty and walked away empty, and walked towards the sunshine at the entrance of the alley.
Unexpectedly, the phone rang suddenly, he took it out, it was really Yao Ke, he hesitated for a while and then picked it up.
"Fu Cuo, what's the matter with you?!" Yao Ke yelled as soon as the phone was connected, "Are you scaring me?!"
"I didn't scare you, I really resigned."
"Why? Well done! What will I do if you quit? I don't know how to run a bar!"
"You will, you see, I have been in business for so long," Fu Cuo said patiently, "The accounts are all recorded in the computer, and the contact information of the wine supplier is also in it. I have already found a new band. The lead singer, who graduated from the vocal music department of CTR, is no worse than me... "
Yao Ke interrupted him pretendingly: "Why are you doing this? Even if you want to resign, at least wait for me to get familiar with the bar business first! Why did you resign so suddenly?"
"..." Fu Cuo answered her, "some things are just so sudden."
Yao Ke was silent. Both ends of the phone were quiet for a long time before Yao Ke said in a muffled voice: "...Are you leaving again?"
Fu Cuo was stunned.
"When I first met you, you looked like you just came back from a trip. You didn't even know that my dad was gone and the bar was closed... you rock people are like this, you just leave when you're cool."
Fu Cuo didn't know what to say. He had met a lot of rock people in his life, and in the end they all left and left. Maybe rock people are really so ruthless.
"sorry."
"Forget it," Yao Ke said aggrievedly, "I wish you the best of luck, and come back as soon as possible."
"thanks."
After hanging up the phone, Fu Cuo walked out of the alley. At a quarter past nine, the street where the bar is located was still deserted, but the opposite CTR was already there. He walked across the road and walked a certain distance. In front of him was the south gate of CTR Academy. Students with musical instruments come in and out from time to time.
There is an old banyan tree at the south gate of the school, which is said to be 300 years old, and some engravings, like characters, can still be seen on the trunk. After the establishment of the school, CTR protected the tree and no one was allowed to enter it. There are letters on it, but students still hang wish cards on the branches, and the gardener can clean up a lot every week. When they graduate, everyone will wear a bachelor's uniform and stand under this tree for a group photo. When he graduated, he took a photo with Tan Si under this tree, and AK was there too. The four of them were chasing their dreams together, but there were only three of them in the photo.
When he walked into the campus, the sound of musical instruments and singing floated over the campus. It was the blooming youth, and their youth had also bloomed fiercely.
He walked under the banyan tree, it was not the graduation season, and he was the only one under the tree.
After the brain tumor was diagnosed, it seemed that his longing for Tan Si had also been alleviated. When he thought of him again, he was no longer accompanied by heart-wrenching pain, only peaceful memories remained.
The class bell rang, and the campus soon became empty. Fu Cuo looked up at the tree. There were still a few wish cards hanging on the branches. One of them was made of wood. The sun shone through the dense canopy and sprinkled fine stars, making the tree look like it really had a dream. General spirituality. He thought of the day when the three of them took a group photo under the tree, the singing of cicadas at the end of June, the scorching sun at the end of June, and the faint coolness under the tree, the sticky heat of AK and Tan Si's hands on his shoulders, and his The missing part of my heart that cannot be spoken by foreigners. Then a gust of wind blew through the branches, the wish cards slapped each other, and the memories disappeared without a trace.
"... I don't know what happened. You all left, but he came back."
I worked so hard for so long, but when he came back, all my efforts were in vain, and I probably didn't really avoid him. If I really wanted to avoid him completely, I shouldn't have returned to this city. I'm like people The kind of silly roe deer mentioned, obviously ran far away, but couldn't help running back to look at him. He was looking for me everywhere, and I hid behind the bushes and circled around him. When he found me, we fought. He was obviously strong and vigorous, but he lost every fight with me.
Probably it was too late for him to come back. A person is really lonely. Once a person is lonely, he will soften his heart and forget all principles. Forget that he is a carnivorous beast and I am a herbivorous animal.
"He is being bullied so badly now that I can't turn a blind eye. I still want to write songs for him, can I? Because I don't know how many more songs I can write for him." He patted the tree trunk and smiled Said, "I will tell you the rest when I see you."
Sui Qingchi was lying under the quilt, with his bare arms pressed outside, he was woken up from the cold, the first moment he opened his eyes he didn't see Fu Cuo, he turned over and sat up suddenly, the quilt slipped from his back, and he was so cold that he shivered , He stroked the hair that fell to his forehead, opened his eyes wide to see the emptiness of the room, and also saw the bright sky outside. He pressed his temples that were swollen and aching from the hangover, got out of bed and called Fu Cuo's name and walked out the door. When he got to the bedroom door, he remembered that he could see directly from the balcony. He returned to the bedroom and picked up the jeans on the chair in a hurry. Put it on, buttoned it and shouted: "Fu wrong?"
He is a person with excellent hearing. Except for his own movement, there is no sound in the room. Perhaps it is because of an intuition that such silence makes him a little uneasy.
He put the sweater around his neck and walked out. While pulling down the sweater and putting it on, he looked at the living room, the sofa, the coffee table, and the dining table. Everything was clean, and there was no note left. Sui Qingchi froze for a few seconds, then hurried back to the bedroom, picked up the mobile phone on the bedside table, and found that it was out of battery, squatted down and rummaged through the box for a long time, but couldn't find where the charger was, and stuck on the bedside like a headless fly , just remembered that the charger was still in the villa, frowned and thought for a while, he went to the living room, pushed open the door of the workshop, went in and opened the three guitar bags in one go, the three guitars were all neatly packed inside .
Sui Qingchi stood up on his knees, the bass was still hanging on the wall of the workshop, he finally calmed down a little.
As soon as he relaxed, the headache seemed to get worse. After pulling up the three guitar bags one by one, Sui Qingchi sat down tiredly on the chair in front of the workbench. The guitar is still there, Tan Si's bass is also there, and Fu Cuo will come back.
The phone was out of battery, and there was no clock in the room. He sat up and wanted to turn on the computer to check the time. He put his finger on the power button, but he gave up.
In the end, I just sat in a daze like this, unconsciously rubbing the ring on my finger, watching the sky outside the window gradually getting brighter and warmer, until I heard the sound of cooking upstairs, I was sure it was already noon.
With his head still hurting, he took a long, deep breath like a groan, lowered his head and closed his eyes, leaning his arms against the edge of the workbench, and the swivel chair was pushed back a bit, making his back tense like a bow. Gradually the sound of cooking disappeared, and there was a sound of opening the door, but it was from the next door. After a while, there was the sound of the elevator opening. Sui Qingchi frowned and opened his eyes. The voices of the people who walked out of the elevator came closer. He closed his eyes again. It's not Fu's fault.
Sui Qingchi, who used to go crazy because Fu Cuo didn't answer his phone, was clamoring and restless again, but now he can't demand anything except waiting, and he has nothing to ask of Fu Cuo.
As soon as Fu Cuo inserted the key, the door opened from the inside, and the iron door almost hit his head. He looked up in astonishment, and saw Sui Qingchi wearing a black turtleneck sweater, the collar was not turned up properly, and his hair was still messy , was pushing open the door and looked at him with wide eyes without blinking.
The atmosphere was so strange, Fu Cuo lifted the birthday cake in his hand and said, "Happy birthday."
Sui Qingchi looked down at the cake, and was taken aback for a while: "... I forgot about it."
Fu Cuo went into the room to change his shoes, and said, "I called you, but your phone is out of battery." He turned his head and saw Sui Qingchi still standing in the entrance, looking at him with straight eyelashes. , "When did you get up?"
"I..." Sui Qingchi glanced at the messy bed in the bedroom, and said, "Just now."
Fu Cuo nodded and walked into the living room: "By the way, your fans are still celebrating your birthday on Weibo, and the Weibo that forwarded the lottery has been retweeted nine million times. They still love you very much."
Sui Qingchi walked to the dining table and sat down, looking a little tired: "Everyone said it was a forwarding lottery draw, so it seems that they all love me."
Fu Cuo put the cake on the dining table: "It seems that fans who are not Sui Qingchi can't smoke."
The corners of Sui Qingchi's mouth ticked briefly, looking at the cake: "They won't remember me in a few years."
"No," Fu Cuo said, "It's just that I might not be able to transfer nine million." He took off his coat and hung it up, then looked back at Sui Qingchi, who was hanging by the dining table with his hair hanging down and not going to take care of it, with a sad expression, why are you Don't you always believe that there are people in this world who fall in love with you beyond that skin
Only then did Sui Qingchi smooth his hair back twice. Fu Cuo saw that his soft hair became smooth with a stroke of his fingers. Sui Qingchi focused on the cake and took off the cake box. The rope, opened the lid, and saw the words "Happy birthday, Vocal of West Wind" at a glance.
Fu Cuo came over and explained: "It's too strange to write your name, so I asked the cake master to write it that way."
Sui Qingchi stared at the cake without blinking.
Vocal of West Wind, these words are still engraved on his ring. That day he thought that Fu Cuo didn't answer him because he felt that he was not worthy of the words "lead singer of West Wind".
"You haven't had lunch yet," Fu Cuo asked, "shall we have cake first?"
He took out the candle, stuck it in the middle, lit it with a lighter, and watched the light of the fire reflected in Sui Qingchi's eyes staring at the cake.
"Or make a wish." Fu Cuo said.
Sui Qingchi resisted the headache and stood up, pressed his hands on the edge of the table, leaned slightly, closed his eyes to the candle on the cake, and heard Fu Cuo say: "Put your hands together when you make a wish."
Sui Qingchi let go of her hand on the edge of the table, clasped her fingers together, lowered her head, frowning slightly, thinking about something for a long time.
When he opened his eyes after making a wish, he did not blow out the candles, but raised his eyebrows and asked, "Do you want me to sing and blow out the candles?"
"Forget it." Fu Cuo smiled and shook his head.
Sui Qingchi sat down on the dining chair after blowing out the candles, his eyes were tired from the headache: "I never made a wish before."
"This time." Fu Cuo said.
Sui Qingchi looked up at him: "You act like coaxing a child."
"Aren't you a kid in the second grade of junior high school?"
Sui Qingchi's eyes were bent, he smiled helplessly, and rubbed his forehead with his hands on the sudden pain: "Will I still be called that when I grow old..."
Fu Cuo didn't speak, and pulled out the knife for cutting the cake. So is your wish related to old age? You, he glanced at Sui Qingchi, it's too easy to guess what's on your mind.
Although there was a paper plate in the cake box, it was too light for two people playing the guitar, and the feel was too bad. Sui Qingchi got up and went to the kitchen to get the porcelain plate. The cake was so big that the two of them obviously couldn't finish it. Fu cut a cross by mistake and said that he would eat the rest at night, but when he turned around, he saw four plates placed on Sui Qingchi's table.
"Leave it to AK and Tan Si." Sui Qingchi said.
Fu Cuo lowered his eyes and nodded. The two sat at the table and shared the birthday cake with two others who were not there.
"Sui Qingchi, I went to a real estate agency today and sold this house." Fu Cuo said suddenly.
Sui Qingchi's expression was a little surprised. He raised his head in a daze, looked at the house, and said, "I thought it was rented..."
"It was rented at first, but later the landlord moved abroad to live with his son, so he sold the house to me." Fu Cuo said.
"Why sell it?" Sui Qingchi asked hesitantly, "... If it's because of money, it doesn't have to be sold."
Fu Cuo looked at Sui Qingchi. This careful and measured speaking style was not at all like Sui Tianwang. He seemed to be weighing what kind of reply so as not to overstep, and not to reveal too many "unreasonable thoughts" in his heart.
Twenty-eight-year-old Sui Qingchi ate the cake he bought for him bite by bite, like a lion carefully chewing rose petals. He was also bitten by this lion, bitten, wanted to bite him, wanted to leave it far away, never see it again, but always the moment he saw him, the scar healed and forgot the pain .
"If this house doesn't sell, I'll always want to come back," Fu Cuo looked around the room, "but it's really not suitable for two people to live in, and if you raise a big dog, it will be even smaller."
Sui Qingchi didn't speak for a while, put down the fork after a long time, and said, "Actually, it doesn't matter where I live with you. I'm an ordinary person after the contract is terminated. I can live wherever you want."
Fu Cuo looked at him, and Sui Qingchi also looked at him, his eyes were very calm, too serious and gentle calm, so that he lowered his eyes with emotion, picked up a fork to fork a piece of cake: "It's all sold before you say. "
"...Then let me help you move." Sui Qingchi said.
Moving is not too difficult. Fu Cuo doesn’t have many things to take away. Except for some limited clothes, musical instruments and laptops that must be taken away, there are almost nothing else. The trunk of Sui Qingchi Grand Cherokee is enough .
When Fu Cuo packed the two guitars and was about to carry them downstairs, he saw Sui Qingchi walking out the door with the bass bag on.
The elevator came, Fu saw that there was no one inside, so he called Sui Qingchi who was waiting in the corner, this time was working hours, usually there was no one, Sui Qingchi put on his mask and walked over, there were only two of them in the elevator, Sui Qing Chi put down the bass bag and set it up by his side, with one hand resting on the bass bag. The elevator carried them down silently.
Although they didn't say anything, they both understood that every day they were together in the future, they would have to bear the weight of this bass, and they could only embrace each other through this thorn.
But Tan Si is not a thorn at all. When the elevator arrived downstairs, Fu Cuo stared at the back of Sui Qingchi walking out of the elevator with his bass bag in his hands. How much he wanted to tell him, do you know that Sui Qingchi, Tan Si is the only person in this world who knows that we are together, and also the first person in the world? The one and only person who has blessed us, but before I tell you the blessing, it is already too late.
The white Grand Cherokee took the three guitars and a bass, walked through the busy city, and when crossing the bridge, Fu Cuo saw Sui Qingchi's name scrolling impressively on the huge LED screen on the outer wall of the tall building opposite the bridge.
Not only his name, but also a huge birthday greeting, which is scrolling alternately on the outer walls of the three skyscrapers on the shore.
——The worst Sui Qingchi in the world, happy twenty-eighth birthday!
Sui Qingchi also saw it, and didn't say anything, as if he really didn't care, but Fu Cuo understood that if he was really unmoved, he would not read the second line after scanning that line for two seconds. eyes, but every time they flash, Sui Qingchi's eyes will look there.
When the car passed by the CBD, the big screen in the square even played a birthday greeting video made by fans for him. The editing by Scissors Hands was excellent, not inferior to Sui Qingchi's official promotional video, which actually included Sui Qingchi's debut Even today when Sui Qingchi is cast aside by everyone, the style of dyed white hair still attracts many passers-by.
Sui Qingchi obviously didn't like the effect of the white hair and blue contact lenses, so he raised his hands to cover the corners of his eyes, and said unbearably, "Please forgive me..."
Fu Cuo looked at Sui Qingchi who was driving, and couldn't help asking: "I can't go on stage anymore, will I be lonely?"
Sui Qingchi frowned, feeling like a student who just graduated, thinking that the job was done, but was suddenly thrown out by the interviewer. How to answer? Say no, it's too fake, say yes? But what's the point? Isn't Fu Cuo lonely when he can no longer stand on the stage with Xifeng
"Standing alone on such a big stage is quite lonely." He hooked the corners of his lips and said lightly.
The huge band organization in the orchestra pit was always no match for a four-member band, and 80,000 people accompanying him could not fill the void caused by the absence of that one person.
Fu Cuo came to Fushan Villa again, and the dog was no stranger to seeing him now. Before Sui Qingchi entered the door, the big white dog had already run wildly back and forth in the room, throwing itself on the glass and wagging its tail wildly at them. For half a month, the housekeeper was responsible for feeding the dog, and Sui Qingchi came back a few times, but he didn't stay overnight. The dog must have become ill, Fu Cuo thought with a smile.
Sure enough, as soon as the door opened, the big dog jumped so high that Lao Gao wanted to kiss Sui Qingchi, but it might have kissed him. Sui Qingchi turned his head away from the dog's wild kiss with disgust on his face: "Whatever you eat will make you mess up." kiss Me?!"
Fu Cuo was no stranger to this villa for a long time, but there was still one place he hadn't been to. When he asked Sui Qingchi where to keep his musical instruments, Sui Qingchi yelled at the dog, straightened his clothes that were messed up by the dog, and came over Said: "Put it upstairs in the workshop."
It was a very high-standard workshop. Fu Cuo could not help but take a deep breath when he walked in. It still has all the functions of a small recording room. You can see the complete mixing console and the recording studio opposite the glass when you enter the door. , A sliding door was made on the wall behind the mixing console, and the entire wall was moved to reveal guitars covering three walls. There are various brands of acoustic guitars, electric guitars, electric guitars and even dovetail-shaped guitars. Fu Cuo couldn’t help but feel that this was too extravagant and wasteful. He asked Sui Qingchi:
"Have you ever written or arranged music here?"
Sui Qingchi said: "There have been three or five times, but I haven't made any good songs."
Fu Cuo thought it was a waste of money, but he didn't say anything, only sighed softly.
Sui Qingchi heard the sigh, turned his head when he put down the instrument, and stared at him with squinted eyes, wasting it? He once wondered if it was all a waste. The biggest waste was not a waste of money, but a waste of emotion. Compared with every trace of emotion he wasted, the money thrown in was not worth mentioning.
But at this moment, watching Fu Cuo standing in this workshop, standing here feeling how wasteful he is, that kind of feeling is like a big gamble, the feeling of almost going bankrupt, and finally doubled, adding ten times and a hundred times , was made up.
He thought again of the electric guitar that he had smashed. He made so much money and threw away so many astronomical figures. He squandered it without restraint, but at least he did one thing right.
You can write songs here in the future. This is my investment in every song you have in the future, and it is worth it.