While sitting on the living room floor, Emil looked around Roy's one bedroom apartment. The common space was small, and made even smaller by the wall to wall shelves of vinyl records. Roy was seated by the record player, trying to decide between which one of two records to play next. Natsumi was in the kitchen, pouring boxed wine in three coffee cups.

"I still can't believe the gaul of our Bass Hermit! Even Leonard was ready to wreck you on stage." Natsumi laughed as they brought the cups over from the kitchen and handed one to Emil. "In that moment, how'd you know you had to go off the set list to play that New Order song?"

"I just remembered what the caterers were talking about before the reception," Emil said with a bashful smile. It wasn't a lie, he thought to himself. There was no way they would believe him about the dream he had about the wedding's tragic end and how it had compelled him to take such a risk. 

"You know Hermit, I agree with what Leonard said, if any one in my band ever went off script like that," Roy said as she switched out the vinyl on the record player, "I'd definitely beat them to a pulp." 

Emil flinched at Roy's words as Wire's "12XU" started playing through the speakers.

"Really? It seemed like you were having a lot of fun with the Hermit." Natsumi retorted, while handing a cup of wine to Roy.

Roy simply responded to Natsumi with a sneer then glared at Emil. "I did have fun, despite what you did."

"Aw, Roy's not being honest." Natsumi gestured to the stack of records leaning against one of the speakers, "You can tell from her vinyl choices, she was really influenced by your grand interruption."

Roy just clicked her tongue. But Natsumi noticed her trying to hide a smile.

Emil tilted his head, and thought about the records Roy had been playing. It was a lot of post-punk, new wave, rhythm heavy danceable music from the 1980s. In addition to Wire, there was New Order, Joy Division, The Clash, David Bowie, Wire, Talking Heads, Gang of Four, and even The Cure. Emil silently smiled since it was clear Roy didn't want to admit that Natsumi was right.

"Anyway, I'll admit I had a little bit of fun after the New Order song," Roy quietly conceded. 

The Franzia red wine stung Emil's throat with an acidic bitterness, yet he gulped it down with vigor. Dehydrated from the gig, the alcohol worked quickly. Emil's confidence had been boosted by liquid courage. For the first time since arriving at Roy's apartment, Emil initiated conversation.

"Have you been in any bands since you've lived in Portland?" Emil asked in a serious voice.

Roy and Natsumi first looked at each other awkwardly, surprised by Emil's sudden earnest tone.

"Roy was in a few jazz bands," Natsumi volunteered, "but she got pissed off at them for not being, in her words, 'serious enough' and quit them all." Natsumi laughed while Roy shot them a hostile look.

"Is that true?" Emil curiously asked.

After a long sigh, Roy answered, "It's rude, but it's true. I just don't want to waste my time, so if they're always flaking on practice or I'm the only one trying to book shows, I'm quitting. Natsumi is the same way, but they go about it differently."

"How so?" Emil asked as he finished his cup and started pouring another serving. A warm tingling from the alcohol started to reach into his toes.

"Natsumi is super promiscuous, they'll join any band who asks them to join, but if the other musicians don't excite them, Natsumi just stops showing up to practice."

"She's right, I fall in love easily with the idea of a band," Natsumi then pretended to swoon and laugh loudly. "But I fall out of love easily." Natsumi then looked at Roy, "Or at least I have yet to find my true love!" Natsumi crept over to Roy to attempt an embrace. Roy easily shoved Natsumi off of her.

"So, I guess, you both are really choosy. That's admirable." Emil said as he knocked back another cup of wine.

"Maybe you should slow down a bit Emil," Natsumi suggested.

Ignoring Natsumi's advice, Emil's voice was a little louder as he followed up with another question.  

"If you could be in a band, what kind of music would you play?" Emil's voice slightly slurred and his face had become beet red. He was drunk.

Natsumi and Roy both looked at each other after noticing Emil's current inebriated state, and smiled.

"Why do you ask?" Natsumi questioned, "do you want to start a band with us?"

"Yes." Emil said innocently yet confidently. "Yes, I do."

Natsumi and Roy were taken aback by Emil's unflinching response. His innocence was charming and his earnestness seemed to be infectious as Natsumi replied in an uncharacteristically sincere manner.

"I guess I'd like to play something fun, something less serious, kind of like the music we played at the end of the wedding."

"Everyone is so artsy in the Portland scene right now, it would be great to play music that people just want to dance to," Roy followed up.

"I just want to dance too!" Natsumi said theatrically with their arms wide open.

"Why don't we try it then? Make a band that people want to dance to." Emil's eyes shined seriously and then let out a large belch. 

Roy and Natsumi laughed at the scene unfolding before them. Despite thinking that they couldn't be further surprised by Emil, Roy and Natsumi were nevertheless shocked yet again. Emil had slumped forward and passed out on the floor. 

*****

When Emil opened his eyes he was facing a smiling stranger. In shock, Emil haphazardly glanced around what surrounded him. It was a fancy coffee shop, exposed brick walls, Edison lightbulbs, clean streamlined chrome lined the counter. People milled around, dressed in casual yet high-priced clothing. Bright sunlight shot through the large windows that seemed to open up into the sidewalk. The unfamiliar street was busy, filled with pedestrians and rumbling traffic. The din from outside mixed with the sounds of the coffee shop: clinking of cups, the steam from the espresso machine, the chatter from other tables, and the moody electronic music playing over the cafe speakers. Emil knew he wasn't in Portland.

Emil's senses finally settled down and his attention returned to the man in front of him. Perhaps in his late 20s or early 30s, the man was dressed in a designer black hoodie and expensive looking jeans. He had a youthful face, a scruffy short beard, a black beanie, and tired eyes. But he smiled, as if he knew that Emil was trying to settle into his body. 

"Breathe," he said in a low yet resolute voice.

Emil breathed in and out, slowly. As oxygen flowed through his lungs his heart began to settle. Although he was a stranger, Emil felt an uncanny sense of familiarity with this man, helping calm his mind. 

"You OK?" the man asked.

"Yes," Emil croaked. His mouth was dry. 

"Have some water," the man said as he gestured to a glass in front of Emil.

After gulping down some water, Emil finally was able to form a clear question. 

"Where am I?" Emil asked.

"You're in San Francisco," the man said, "and it's 2007."

Noticing Emil's shock, the man attempted to reassure him.

"Don't worry, everything is alright. Everything will be alright. You won't be here forever, Emil." 

A whirlwind of thoughts raced throughout Emil's mind. One thought eventually escaped and Emil was able to articulate it into a question.

"How do you know who I am?" he asked, voice shaking.

"Because we're the same," the man mischievously smiled.