Bo rang the intercom of a high-rise casting a giant shadow on the scorching asphalt. It was very early in the morning, but the sun had risen high enough to glare directly into his eyes.

"Who is it?" he heard his friend's voice, sounding as if he had just roused from a long session on the couch.

"What do you mean 'who is it?' I expected you to be waiting for me at the entrance, ready to go."

"Who is this?"

Bo was losing his patience. "Man, you must be joking. You asked to come pick you up on Sunday at 6 am sharp."

"Bo?" he muttered, slipping in a few unknown Thai curses. "Why didn't you call me? Okay. Alright. Come up! I need twenty minutes."

Bo briefly considered leaving to get himself a good cup of coffee on his own but he was looking forward to the distraction Anan usually provided. Anan was one of his first Thai clients when he was still doing guest sessions in Bangkok. They connected through Instagram and a shared love for horror punk tattoos. Anan had once suggested a good place to rent a motorcycle while in town, and after that, they hung out regularly every time Bo was around.

"Did I wake you?" Bo asked with a half-smile as Anan opened the door.

"Yes, to be honest, but it's good that you did. I'm so glad we're doing this. It means a lot to me," Anan replied, gesturing to the only free armchair in the dimly lit living room.

"Sit down, please, and give me fifteen minutes." He wobbled towards the door of the adjacent room.

Bo looked around. An ashtray with more than two dozen cigarette butts took up most of a coffee table covered with ashes. Empty take away cartons and glass cups with various levels of dark liquid occupied the remaining free space. Windows with drawn blinds looked like they hadn't been opened in years, and the floor was covered with a thick layer of dust. A pot sat in the corner of the room with thin sticks drying up, remnants of some plant that died long ago. He was surprised. Having always met with Anan somewhere in the city before, he never considered him messy, on the contrary, he always seemed quite well put together. He wasn't sure how to, or even if he should, mention anything. He knew that it wasn't hard to find a cleaner in Bangkok, and Anan lived in a rather upscale neighborhood. He ran a pretty successful tour guide business and as far as Bo knew, he wasn't short on money.

"Sorry about the mess," Anan said, coming out of the room, buttoning up a black shirt with white flower details worn over dark burgundy plaid pants. I just need to brush my teeth and we can go."

"No problem," was Bo's only comment on the mess. "How long will it take us to get there?"

"About forty minutes, depending on the traffic and your refusal to ride on sidewalks."

Due to the density of traffic and the number of motorcycles in the city, jams were a daily occurrence, and drivers were very creative in how they navigated from point A to point B. Traffic lights, what's a road for vehicles and what's a sidewalk for pedestrians, all had a very loose concept. Bangkok city dwellers considered traffic signs as suggestions rather than law.

"I wish you had told me where we were going. We could have met there and each drive on our surface of choice," Bo said.

"Where's the fun in that? Watching you marvel at our traffic amuses me tremendously, my friend. I wouldn't give that up for anything. I assume you have the tools?"

"No, I thought I'd borrow yours," Bo replied.

"Haha, very funny. Ok, I think I'm ready, let's go!" Anan said, looking at himself in the wardrobe mirror and moving a strand of black gelled hair from the left side of his forehead to the right. Bo got up from the chair and passed by him towards the exit of the apartment, saying, "I think it was better before," and gesturing with an imaginary strand on his own forehead.

"You're in a good mood today," Anan said, locking the door. He arranged the keys in a tiny dark brown bag that he hung from his belt.

It wasn't too difficult for Bo to follow Anan through the side streets despite the traffic. As always, he enjoyed the ride, and the longer it lasted, the better he felt. During the ride, scenes from the previous night flooded his mind. It hadn't been easy – resisting Nina's cute drunken advances – but it didn't feel right to take advantage of the situation. He wanted her fully awake and aware the first time he felt the warmth of her beautiful lips. He was now absolutely sure he wanted it to happen, and it was getting harder and harder to remain cool and composed around her.

Bo noticed they had left the city center. It was just past seven when they finally parked near a residential area he was unfamiliar with.

"What's so special about this place?" he asked as he removed his helmet. Anan was pulling his backpack from the motorcycle seat.

"You'll see. Grab your stuff." He led Bo through dusty and largely deserted streets towards the tallest building in the neighborhood. As Anan held a metal fence for him to slip under, Bo gave him a raised eyebrow but refrained from commenting. At the base of the huge abandoned skyscraper, two guards sat on chairs as if expecting residents to start their usual day. Anan greeted them and after exchanging a few words in Thai, he discreetly handed a crunched up bill to each and motioned for Bo to follow.

They entered the building through a squeaky side door, revealing a dark and damp interior.

"No one can accuse you of being boring, Anan, but this is a bit creepy even for me."

"Don't worry, it's perfectly safe," he replied as they walked up the dark staircase, illuminated only by Anan's flashlight. "This building is a paradise for urban explorers. That's why I wanted us to come this early. I wanted privacy, but we also need light. I brought water and disinfectant. It's not that scary up top, you'll see."

"Are we climbing to the top? How many floors are there? Forty?" Bo asked as he followed him. The floor was covered with liquid, but both wore sturdy shoes. That was one of the conditions Anan had set when he pleaded with him to pick him up on Sunday morning.

"Forty-nine, a light morning workout for us," Anan chuckled. "We should be up in twenty minutes. If you can keep up, that is."

"I can't wait to hear the story that explains why you want to get tattooed here."

"When I was a kid, I lived in this neighborhood. The building had just been abandoned and the interior hadn't been vandalized this much. Construction stopped in 2003 due to the financial crisis and it has been empty since," Anan explained without elaborating further. They reached a larger hall revealing dark elevator shafts. He opened another creaking door that led to the staircase. The darkness seemed even denser there.

"Watch your step. There's all sorts of stuff on the floor, and don't touch the walls. Just follow me, I know every hole on the way up." Bo wasn't easily frightened, but it was difficult to imagine it was daylight outside at that moment. The air was stifling, and he tried to remember how much he liked Anan in order to convince himself to follow him. He was also curious to hear the story.

"Did you use to come here often?" He asked.

"Well, not every day, it's not exactly inviting here on the staircase. But the view from the top is fucking amazing, especially at night. We often dared each other as kids, and many times we proved our bravery by climbing up after dark. But I have the fondest memories with Marti." He fell silent then.

"Who is Marti?" Bo asked.

"A childhood friend," Anan replied in a tone that invited no further questions. They spent the next twenty minutes in silence, climbing the stairs and breathing heavily. It was clear to Bo that Anan wanted to reach the top as soon as possible. He wondered how he would react if they encountered someone on that staircase. It wasn't exactly the place where you wanted to meet a stranger. At last, Anan opened the door to a room where there was some daylight.

"Be especially careful here, only step where I step," he said, fixing Bo with a look that lent weight to his words. He led him through the room to more stairs. The air was much fresher here, and it was clear they were near a window through which air from outside was wafting. They no longer needed the flashlight. After climbing two more flights they finally stepped out into the daylight and fresh air. Bo took several deep breaths. After spending time in the dark, the light was blinding, and they both pulled out their sunglasses. Anan walked to the edge of the rooftop, and Bo was surprised to see there were no railings as he began to admire the unobstructed view. The panorama was dominated by the Chao Phraya River, surrounded by modern buildings and busy roads. None of the usual noise was heard up there, creating an eerie contrast.

"Nice," he admired.

"Right? I know," Anan said, pulling out two bottles of water from his backpack and tossing one to Bo. "Here, hydrate a bit." 

He headed towards a part of the wall that had been cleared of the wires protruding elsewhere. Clearly, it was the spot where visitors sat and admired the view. He climbed onto the wall with ease, as if he had done it a hundred times before. Bo cast another glance towards the river and then joined him. Trying not to look down, he sat on the edge. They remained in silence for a while. Bo was waiting for Anan to continue his story about his childhood friend. He decided not to ask about it any further. Anan would tell the story when he was ready. Or he wouldn't. Bo concluded that the view alone was worth the trip and didn't press any further.

Anan took a few more thirsty swigs from his bottle. Then, with a sigh and somewhat reluctantly, he began. "I first came here when I was thirteen. She brought me here to celebrate my birthday. We were sitting exactly on this part of the wall when she pulled a muffin and a carton of chocolate milk out of her purse and solemnly handed them to me. We ended up sharing them. Marti was amazing. Smart, beautiful, generous. I always thought we'd get married one day." Anan gazed into the distance. Bo remained silent. "Today is the fifth anniversary of her death. She was hit by a car. The stupidest possible death. She didn't deserve that," he said as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Man, I'm sorry," Bo said, squeezing his friend's shoulder. 

Yeah, me too. She was such a positive force. I wish you could have known her. She was studying medicine—loved helping people. And she loved poetry," he said, pulling a small note from his backpack and handing it to Bo. "That's why this will be the perfect homage."