The Singer

The Singer
(Starsky’s POV)

I could hear his guitar from far
playing a song I heard him play before
I could hear his soft voice singing along
I knew the singer
I knew the song

I stood behind the door and listened
to the words I heard so many times before
I could hear his voice trembling with unshed tears
I could hear the pain in his voice echoing in my ears
Until I couldn’t stand it anymore
I didn’t knock when I opened the door

When I came in
The singer stopped singing
He put down the guitar
and wiped his face
He looked up at me
in his eyes, a silent question
one that only I could see

I held him close
in my embrace

He knew
I understood the singer

He knew
I understood the song