What was it that people always said about life? Kyungsoo couldn’t sort through the clutter in his mind as he took a drag from the cigarette trapped between his index and middle finger. He could almost hear the nagging voice of his manager slash boyfriend at the back of his head going on and on about the health problems he could get from smoking. He swore he would stop but a few drags wouldn’t hurt and Sehun doesn’t have to know. By the end of this week long trip back to his hometown, he’d be ridden of the smell of smoke as if there was never even a cigarette in his vicinity.

The road in front of him stretched endlessly but he welcomed the familiar view as the landscape changed from concrete jungles and impossible traffic to lush greenery and an almost empty road. He forgot how huge and welcoming the open sky was in this part of the country and he finds himself already anticipating the night sky that always promises a blanket of stars above his head. It was ironic to have such fuzzy feelings when he was coming home for his grandmother’s funeral.

When Kyungsoo thinks about his grandmother he will be reminded of rainy evenings and those boring Chinese soap operas she liked so much. But time wears people off and sooner or later they would give in because fighting for your life is tiring as hell, especially when you don’t have the one you love by your side anymore. His grandfather passed two years ago, as did the shine in his grandmother’s eyes. He took with him half of her heart and perhaps it was time for them to reunite. Kyungsoo never really thought about what happens after death but to know someone is waiting for you on the other side is a nice thought and so he settles for that as he drove on with the windows rolled down, feeling the warm summer air kiss his pale skin and waltz with the dark strands of his hair.

Kyungsoo dropped the half-burnt cigarette on the asphalt thinking that life was too short to be killed by toxic smoke invading his systems.
 

It was a small ceremony attended by many – lives which Kyungsoo’s kind hearted grandmother has touched in the most beautiful ways. At least that was how he wanted to think about it. It was odd seeing everyone gathered all in a gloomy mood probably thinking of all the good things Granny Do has done in her lifetime. But maybe it is just the weather. The sky is overcast with heavy clouds like a storm warning and it made Kyungsoo think of hot chocolate and the soothing smell of balsam. And then he thought, as he stood at the far end of the crowd, perhaps it always rains when a good soul leaves the world as a way of showing that the sky can cry too.

The rest of the ceremony flew by in a blur – condolences were exchanged, hugs were returned, the air was heavy with sorrow and it was suffocating. Kyungsoo roamed around the family home, looking at pictures and the walls that used to be riddled with writings – names of grandchildren and their birthdate right down to the time they were born. His grandfather never missed a single birth, and then they renovated the place a year after his passing but Kyungsoo can still somehow see the blue ink under the layers of green paint. Suddenly he feels sorry for growing up way too fast and he misses the days he used to spend there, listening to his grandfather’s stories about hunters and foxes and pirates and angels. Kyungsoo thought it was cruel to take someone away without any warning. Sometimes he wishes for one more day to hear them again because he never said a proper goodbye.

One more day, one more minute, one more second – has it always been human nature to never be satisfied? We learn as we grow up that things do not last and it can be taken away from you when you least expect it. But why is it so hard to appreciate something while it’s present, even though you know it will hurt so badly when all you can do is miss it?

Back to where the rest of his relatives were still gathered, Kyungsoo’s eyes met a pair of very familiar dark brown orbs whose gaze did not falter when it was caught by Kyungsoo’s, as if already anticipating and daring him to look away first. His body was screaming for him to walk the few steps to the person but he stayed rooted to his spot almost paralyzed until said person gave him a side smirk before turning away to walk out of the house.

“Wait,” he muttered. Kyungsoo hadn’t meant for it to come out as a whisper but his mind has dissociated from his muscles and he couldn’t work them properly.

“Jongin!” he tries again as he wills his legs to chase after the retreating figure.

“Hey,” he breathes out. Their eyes met again as Jongin turns to face him. For a moment all Kyungsoo could do is just stare wordlessly at the younger male. He has grown taller over the years and his facial features have matured that it felt very different yet so familiar. How long has it been again? Three - four years? Kyungsoo couldn’t recall the last time they spoke.

“Hi, Kyungsoo hyung,” Jongin says. It came out as easy as the boyish smile that pushed his cheeks upward so his eyes became dark crescents and Kyungsoo catches himself liking the deep voice – scratchy around the edges and so much Jongin.

They didn’t talk very long – just the usual how are you doing. No I miss you or we should call each other again – and when Jongin left, Kyungsoo wonders how all those years of intermission have manifested into a large aperture between them that neither of them dared to cross. It felt so wrong that it made his stomach churn.

And Kyungsoo finds himself wishing for one more chance to make it feel right again.
 

After sending a halfhearted goodnight text to Sehun, Kyungsoo continued to lie in bed tossing and turning unable to shut his mind off. It wanders to the time when he was in middle school, all bright eyed and full of hopes – back when things were okay and Jongin was still Jongin. He remembers those days they spent together on the school rooftop during lunch, away from the other students. He remembers lying on hard concrete trying to point out shapes of clouds. He also remembers the loud music booming out of Jongin’s old ridiculously bright orange secondhand Walkman his father gave him for his tenth birthday – the crappy upbeat pop songs he never really approved of but makes no move to actually stop it.

Then as he closes his eyes, Kyungsoo lets his mind drift a little bit further to their kindergarten days and lets himself be engulfed in reminiscence.

“GIVE ME BACK MY PENS!”

Kids were always noisy, Kyungsoo decided. He opted for just sitting on his chair and coloring his book rather than take note of the commotion. He was only a few days shy of seven and he was only still there because his mommy had to work late that day and his aunt brought him to the kindergarten she works at. He was a big boy and big boys don’t play with little kids who cry a lot.

Too bad Kim Jongin didn’t quite catch on with his theory.

“SOO! THEY TOOK MY PENS!” cried the six year old boy. Kyungsoo glared at the crying mess from the corner of his eyes. He did not want to deal with Jongin. For one he was rude and refused to call him ‘hyung’ although he was clearly older and for another he was clingy and denied other people’s friendship because apparently ‘Soo is Kai’s favorite friend’. Oh and the younger demanded to be called Kai. The reason was lost within the many mysteries of the universe. Kai cried harder when his favorite friend paid no mind to his troubles.

He refused to stop crying even when Miss Choi gave him back his pens and he stayed rooted to his spot next to Kyungsoo – he even followed the elder all the way to the washroom. It was getting on Kyungsoo’s nerves and he was never good at controlling his temper. Kai didn’t show any sign of stopping until Kyungsoo finally turned around to face him with his right hand extended towards the younger.

“You can borrow my pens, okay? Promise you’ll stop crying?” he said, voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. His answer was a tight bear hug from the younger boy who was much taller (which Kyungsoo still finds unspeakably unfair).

“You’re the best, Soo,” Jongin whispered next to his right ear. His hug was warm and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but mold himself into the embrace.

“Soo, look! I made a drawing of you and me,” the younger of the two exclaimed in an enthusiastic manner. His cheeks were straining to keep his grin in place as he held up a paper filled with an obnoxious amount of neon colored doodles of two boys holding hands – one in a blue t-shirt and the other in green. There was the usual smiling sun on the top left corner of the paper drawn in orange ink and a couple of trees in the background. Jongin pointed to a small blob of whatever in the middle of the two boys drawn in brown pen. “That’s Jjanggu! My daddy gave him to me yesterday. You can come to my house and play with him.” They were inseparable ever since.

Jongin used to talk about a different world. Sort of like an alternate universe – where they would be superheroes saving the day. The old neighborhood playground was their stage and they moved to the woods up the hill behind their school when the swings and slides and see saws became too small and too fragile for both of them. Kyungsoo loved those adventures and he probably still does because in those moments it was just them. It was just Kyungsoo and Jongin.

And then all of a sudden it changed. It was as if Kyungsoo woke up one day and Jongin grew up and laughed at the idea. Jongin refused to hang out after school and became so withdrawn that people started avoiding him. Suddenly they entered middle school and Kyungsoo was left with questions he doesn’t have the answers to. He doesn’t understand why Jongin is full of anger or why he is never really happy anymore. It was as if Jongin left Kyungsoo without as much as a see you later and became an entirely different person overnight. But a couple of days later he comes back like nothing ever changed and it becomes a vicious cycle that Kyungsoo puts up with. It isn’t fair.

If it was up to him, Kyungsoo would give up everything for them to stay ten years old. Because as selfish as it may seem, it hurts. It hurts him when Jongin has his bad days and it feels like he leaves every time. And Kyungsoo was slowly losing himself. So he let go because there was nothing for him to hold on to anymore. It was hard because he sees Jongin every day but he could never predict when Jongin would be fine or when he would shut the whole world off. He was tired.

The thing is you cannot walk away from a person without warning and then come back expecting them to stay the same way. You can’t expect time to pause once you leave and start again where you left off like nothing has ever happened. Jongin should’ve known that he is not a time keeper.

Kyungsoo was thirteen when he had his first heartbreak and he didn’t even realize it.

 

As opposed to most boys his age, Jongin never really liked summer very much. Partly because of the hot humid air that makes him sweat even when sleeping as if he just finished a running a marathon. But mostly because there isn’t much to keep him busy and the stray thoughts restrained. And also he doesn’t have much reason to get out of the house every day.

School used to be fun – he actually enjoyed learning new things and there was Kyungsoo to keep him company – but then it gradually turned into some sort of escape, an excuse to leave home without having his parents turning the police station upside down for a missing child. And now college is like an upgraded version of school. He can leave home for months on end and not think about it until holidays come around.

Home. It used to sound so divine in Jongin’s ears once upon a time. But now he spends the last few days before summer break alone in his dorm room staring at the yellowed cracks on the ceiling and feeling the light breeze from the old creaking fan kiss his face, thinking of the motivational quotes he read the previous night of all those carpe diem people like to put up on the internet and about how things will get better soon. Soon couldn’t come fast enough though and maybe it’s just because he isn’t a very patient man but it could also be because Jongin was starting to get used to being bitter.

His final exams ended two days ago and his roommate has already left to go home for the summer. But Jongin likes to prolong his stay – anything to shorten the time he has to spend at home. The quiet is not something he gets very often. When his mother called to tell him about Granny Do’s passing, he weighs his options on going home early to attend the funeral or stay where he is and let his mother to send his regards and condolences to the neighboring family. His favorite neighboring family.

When Jongin moved to the unfamiliar neighborhood, he was scared because he doesn’t have many friends – only one back where he came from, really. Even at six Jongin was never one to socialize and kids his age don’t like that so he sat alone with his coloring book while the others played with the dinosaurs pretending he doesn’t care. And then Kyungsoo came along. He sometimes came with Miss Lee and those days are the one of the only times Jongin felt like he belonged. When Kyungsoo agreed to Jongin’s offer to show him his new pet, he found out that they lived opposite of each other’s house.

Jongin would rather spend his time at home watching cartoons or read books but there was something about Kyungsoo’s heart shaped toothy smile and his round face that latches onto him and doesn’t let go.

He hasn’t seen the elder in quite a while. The last he saw him was possibly the day before he left for college in Seoul. And of course Kyungsoo’s work prevented them to meet. But maybe Jongin had left him way before then. And that is the reason why he couldn’t make himself approach Kyungsoo. He saw him through his bedroom window when he arrived and he saw him distancing himself from the rest of the crowd during the burial and he watches as Kyungsoo roams aimlessly around the house looking at walls and pictures, purposefully away from his family.

When Kyungsoo caught his eyes, he literally didn’t know what to do so he just kept on staring until he realized that he didn’t deserve to be in Kyungsoo’s life anymore. He smirks at the irony – how he lost the only person he really cares about while trying to find who really cares for him – and then decided it was best that he leaves. But then Kyungsoo caught up to him and they talked and then Jongin went home thinking that he was going to make it up to Kyungsoo even if this would be the last time.
 

At 1:48 am Kyungsoo turns on his bedside lamp when his attempts at sleeping failed miserably. He moves out of his room to the front door with all the stealth he could muster and it makes him feel like a high school kid again sneaking out of the house without his parents’ consent. The best thing he loves about his hometown is that nobody thought of him as Hallyu star Kyungsoo. In this part of the world, he is just Kyungsoo and he couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

The first thing he sees when he was out of the house was somebody lying on the asphalt street between his and Jongin’s house. The sudden surge of panic that flowed in his veins made him rush to the person only to find out it was Jongin – thankfully breathing.

“Hi, hyung,” Jongin says in a hushed tone, eyes leaving the night sky to flicker towards his direction.

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo asks as he sits next to Jongin. It felt familiar. Comfortable. He could feel the stretch of time as Jongin left his question hang in the air and he almost hated the silence. But when Jongin opened his mouth to speak, it was not the answer he needed.

“Have you ever thought about how your life would end?”

“Not really, no. But I hope I’d die peacefully after finishing a good book.”

“If it was up to me, I’d want to leave like this – under the stars while the whole world sleeps.”

It always amazes him how Jongin could easily weave his words so beautifully. Sometimes his words flew like a poem and sometimes it goes like a bullet train – fast and raw. But most of the time it doesn’t matter which version Jongin decided to go with because he will always succeed in throwing Kyungsoo willingly into the storm of his voice.

They continued to sit together in the pleasant quiet – the way it has always been between them. They weren’t people of very much speech and could hardly stand loud people who talk way too much. They wouldn’t speak for hours just because they don’t feel like speaking. Perhaps that was what made them stick together for so long, Kyungsoo thinks as he felt the cold asphalt came in contact with his back. The view that greets him is one of utter splendor – one you can only find where bright city lights couldn’t reach – and Kyungsoo understands why Jongin wanted this to be the last thing he sees.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Kyungsoo whispered, afraid of breaking the serene silence. He didn’t expect an answer and when Jongin sat up he was ready for him to leave. So when Jongin held his right hand to him, he didn’t know what to do but stare.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“But I’m in my pajamas.”

“Hyung, it’s two am. Nobody else is awake in this part of the Earth.”

Kyungsoo lets Jongin lead the way but pulled on the younger’s arm when he finds himself walking up the hill towards their old elementary school. He was shocked and confused because of all the places in the entire district, Jongin chose to bring him here.

“What are we doing here?”

“Come on, hyung. For old time’s sake?”

There was something about Jongin’s deep voice that put him in a trance as if the words that flow out of the young man’s lips were spells and Kyungsoo found himself complying to his wishes – again.

“You do know breaking into a school is illegal, right?” Kyungsoo grumbles as he ducks his head under the teared fence behind the main school building. He is surprised that it was still the way they left it, some eleven years ago. He wonders if the school even bothers to check.

“No I don’t. But I do know that tonight we have nothing to lose.”

Jongin smiles that big grin that turns his eyes into crescents – Kyungsoo’s favorite smile – the twinkle in them spells mischief and it greeted Kyungsoo with a sense of belonging, like a welcome home. He could still sense the doubt and uncertainty but Kyungsoo decides to ignore them. Not tonight.

Jongin’s retreating figure pulls him out of his thoughts and Kyungsoo jogged to keep up with the younger male. The building was still as he remembers, although they added more decorations along the corridors – an attempt to fill the much too empty walls, he figures but it made him feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, as if the walls are closing in on him and swallow him in a matter of seconds. It doesn’t help when his subconscious imagines the students milling around – all of whom he does not recognize.

It’s astounding how easily the two of them could sneak into the school. The doors that they never locked back then are still unlocked today. Kyungsoo is torn between feeling relieved that they weren’t caught or alarmed because the school needed a better security system. But maybe, he thought, the school has nothing to lose either.

Opening the door that leads to the roof brought harsh cold air in and it slapped Kyungsoo right in his face that it almost physically hurts. But the familiar feeling of being on top at such a height makes up for that unpleasant feeling. As Kyungsoo looks around the place he wonders if anyone else has come up here since they left and when his gaze lands upon Jongin’s broad shoulders, he secretly hopes nobody did. This place was once their sanctuary when the school community was being too much of a bother. He remembers the days spent talking about what they would become when they grow up, not knowing that they would grow up wishing that they didn’t.

“Remember when this was the highest point we’ve ever been on?” Jongin said; his back still turned towards Kyungsoo. “We used to think that it would be so easy to jump and fly but we didn’t because we just learned about gravity,” he added as he turned towards the elder, smiling like nothing was wrong with the world. We have nothing to lose tonight.

“Yeah, because you were such a smarty pants that you get to leap a whole year ahead.”

“Nah. I just wanted to be in the same class as you.”

The conversation comes so naturally as if it was premeditated, forgetting completely the years they spent without seeing or talking to each other. And then Kyungsoo thinks that this right now, it feels right.
 

They talked and laughed all the way home and when they finally reached each other’s house, neither made the first move to go inside first. It was 6 am and the sky is becoming lighter as the minutes passed by. It pains Kyungsoo that it would end again and who knows when they would see each other again. Spend time with each other again.

“I’m leaving. Today.”

Jongin stares blankly at him which prompts Kyungsoo to repeat himself. It seems to have worked when he notices Jongin opening his mouth to speak.

“No. Not today.”

“What?”

“Stay. Just for today.”

“I can’t, Jongin.”

“Please? You can leave tomorrow. Promise.”

Four hours later Kyungsoo knocks on Jongin’s door. Mrs. Kim greeted with her usual warm smile and told him that Jongin was up in his room. Kyungsoo guessed it was cue for him to go fetch the man himself when Mrs. Kim turned to walk into the kitchen. Kyungsoo takes his time looking around – the house still felt very familiar from all the time he spent there and despite the years of not visiting, he finds his way towards Jongin’s room as easy as the last time he went there.

Mrs. Kim likes to put picture frames on the walls upstairs. There was one for almost every occasion, from births to dozens of firsts – first steps, first ballet class, first day of kindergarten. Kyungsoo calls it the Kims’ memory wall. He himself was featured in quite a few of the pictures, like first camping trip, first day of middle school and first soccer game. They won that game and he still has the trophy in his room. It washed him with big waves of guilt – what other good things has he let go of?

“Oh hey, you’re here,” Jongin’s deep voice interrupted his train of thoughts. He doesn’t mind though, anything to get him out of the harboring misery.

“Where are we going?” Kyungsoo asks as they stepped out of the house. They kept on walking and he figured they won’t be needing transport – everything around this small neighborhood was of walking distance so he didn’t mind. Just like old times.

“We are going scavenger hunting.”

Sometimes he hates it when Jongin is vague. It’s like looking through a thick mist and only making out a shape that may or may not resemble a human figure. And sometimes it makes him wonder if everything he says is what it is or if there’s something else behind them that he missed.

Kyungsoo watched the swing in Jongin’s steps as they walked passed rows of houses and wonders if they still have nothing to lose today.

“Honestly Jongin, where are you taking me?”

“Do you remember that old shop we used to go to get milkshakes? You’ll get the milkshakes at that auntie’s shop and I’d wait for you outside so we can go to the playground and sit on the swings.”

In all honesty Kyungsoo does remember. He tries to will the memories away but he couldn’t. How could he? Those were the times when things were much simpler. Back when he didn’t have to think much about anything other than the last ring of the school bell and the after-school playground getaway with his best friend. Of course he remembered the milkshakes – vanilla for him, chocolate for Jongin – and how can he forget Jongin’s praises when he sang along to the songs playing on the crappy secondhand Walkman.

It wasn’t one of those big events that you swear to never forget, well in a sense it is but in a different way. This was the kind of memory you can’t help but remember. The one that becomes sort of a routine once upon a time, like second nature – like the heat of the afternoon sun prickling on your skin or the feel of the spring breeze on your cheeks or the taste of vanilla milkshake you drank almost every day until your mom warned that you’d get a tummy ache. And perhaps the smile of your best friend that you haven’t seen for at least three years.

Kyungsoo was overwhelmed with a rush of memories playing before his eyes as they reenacted their old routine. He’s surprised that the auntie still remembers them even after years that made him forget about her. When Jongin said scavenger hunting, he never expected that they would be hunting for old dusty memories. It took the breath out of his lungs as though someone had punched him in the chest with the ferocity of a raging hurricane. Harsh and cruel. It suddenly felt stuffy in the small shop and he found it was harder to breathe – so much that it was almost painful to inhale. So he stepped outside and lets Jongin get the milkshakes. Just like old times.
 

Jongin could feel Kyungsoo’s reluctance, probably thinking of ways to run away but he was relieved when the older stayed. The doubt was lifted from his shoulder when he brought them to the old playground, milkshakes in hand. The neighborhood did pretty well on reviving the old place. It was nice to think that the kids today can still play here.

It was obvious that they both had grown way too big for most of the things they used to play on, the slides mostly. Their feet didn’t dangle like they used to anymore when they sat on the swings. They talked as they swung higher and it made him want to fly.

“Wouldn’t it be so easy to let go right now?” he says as he was momentarily suspended in midair.

“You’re crazy,” Kyungsoo replies and then he laughs.

“What are you laughing at?” Kyungsoo’s laugh was contagious and Jongin found himself laughing along though he doesn’t know for what. It just felt good and he didn’t want to break the spell.

“Remember Baekhyun’s flying chairs third year of elementary school?”

Who wouldn’t remember Baekhyun’s flying chairs. He told everyone in class one day that he was a wizard and he knows how to make things fly. Everyone called him a liar and that there was no such thing as wizards or magic. In a small school, gossip goes around fast and by recess Baekhyun’s wizardry reached the bigger kids a year ahead. They and called him a joke.

The next day Baekhyun decided he had enough and the first person to was rewarded with a flying chair. He threw the chair so hard that it almost shattered to pieces when it hit the opposite wall. He probably made six chairs fly before the teacher calmed him down. Nobody dared to question his wizardry anymore after that, afraid of his wrath and the flying chairs.

Kyungsoo’s reluctance was broken by then and his rigid shoulders are moving up and down as he laughs his heart out. Jongin misses this side of his best friend and he could only hope that he can keep it for himself.

They walked home when Kyungsoo’s mother called him for dinner, inviting Jongin to come along. It reminded Jongin of their school days. With every ounce of honesty he could muster, Jongin admitted to himself that he hated spending with other people’s family – especially the Dos. Other times he would’ve declined but this time he complied.

He knows perfect is superficial, just a show on the surface. Sometimes the inside is fine with just little bits of cracks. But sometimes it’s shattered like a mirror right after a nice punch on the center. There are pieces that are still intact that still holds on to what little hope is left. And then there are the cracks that misalign the pieces and distorts the image you see on it – some might be missing, chipped off somewhere nobody knows, rendering it irreparably broken leaving a gaping hole where you cannot see part of the image reflected back anymore.

Some may be bloodied from the result of sharp glass ripping through a not so tough layer of skin, shooting pain throughout the entire appendage. And then he wonders, as he stared out at the picture perfect family in front of him, was it wrong to want the image before his eyes to shatter just as his once picture perfect family had? Was it wrong to want other people to feel what he had felt? Was it wrong to want to break someone else’s happiness because you don’t want to go at it alone anymore? People can always say that he is never alone but they wouldn’t understand what he is going through. Nobody would really give a damn unless it’s happened to them. He understood that much.

But he smiled anyway when Kyungsoo’s parents joked in front of him and when he saw Kyungsoo’s eyes roll with obvious disgust, he felt his stomach clench so bad he was afraid he would throw up.
 

“So you’re leaving in the morning huh?”

“Yeah.”

They were lying on the pavement between their houses again, bathing in the moonlight. The night was clear despite the storm warning. They didn’t say anything after that. Kyungsoo knows this was how it has always been with them but right then he wished they hadn’t – he wished they would talk about anything and everything until they fall asleep on the tarmac and let someone find them in the morning thinking they had died. Part of him wished for the latter too.

He was waiting for Jongin to tell him to stay – because he would. But Jongin never said anything until he said that they should go inside. Kyungsoo got up with a heavy heart and instead of going straight to bed, he stood at his window, hoping to see Jongin’s bedroom light up to life, or any sign that he is as sleepless as Kyungsoo. But after three hours, Kyungsoo gave up.

When he wakes up the next morning, Kyungsoo was still holding on to the hope that Jongin would ask him to stay so he went to the house opposite of theirs. But when he wasn’t there, Kyungsoo dropped every single hope he had held on for the last twenty four hours. Maybe Jongin was ready to let go for good so he said his farewell to Mrs. Kim and left. As he drove along the familiar roads again, Kyungsoo replayed the conversation he had with Jongin the day before when they were walking home from the old playground.

“What are you thinking?” Kyungsoo asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Nothing in particular.”

“No, tell me.”

“Have you ever just want to disappear? Run away somewhere new and recreate yourself. You can be whoever you want. Move from one place to another.”

“Like a lifelong road trip?”

“Yeah. That’s a nicer way to put it.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know. I guess when I’m ready, I’ll go home.”

“Here?”

“Who knows?”

Kyungsoo wanted to ask “Can I be your home?” but stops himself and now he wishes he didn’t hold back.


 

It was a rainy night when Kyungsoo was woken up by a crack of lightning. He sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows propped up on his knees and his head in his hands. The sound of rain pelting hard on the windows and the soft rolling of thunder gave some sort of comfort. But his head was a whirlwind of thoughts and his entire being was a restrained beast demanding to be let out. He looked behind him to see a shirtless lump under the bundle of blankets fast asleep.

Slowly he leaned in just close enough to feel soft breaths fanning on his left cheek. Kyungsoo mapped the face of the creature in front of him - every crease, every nook and cranny and every single line that accentuated his features. He was the epitome of beauty. But try as he might, Kyungsoo can never find what he really needed in that beautiful profile. He couldn’t find comfort in his soft smiles, couldn’t find happiness in his twinkling eyes and Kyungsoo couldn’t find warmth in his affectionate hugs. Sehun doesn’t deserve any of that but aren’t we all that tad bit selfish?

Kyungsoo got out of the bed as silently as he possibly could before reaching for the tshirt and sweatpants that were lying haphazardly on the floor. If he thought the bedroom was cold, then outside it was freezing. Goosebumps started to form on his skin as he set a brisk pace towards his office. Maybe the thermostat is down again and Sehun forgot to call someone to fix it. Any excuse would do. It was easier to believe it that way.

On top of his desk is a blue envelope with Do Kyungsoo written on it in black ink with a messy penmanship he knew all too well. He hasn’t gotten around to opening it yet since it arrived two weeks ago. He doesn’t have to guts to. He wasn’t ready to read whatever was addressed to him. He doesn’t exactly know what made him suddenly reach for the letter. Even then he was contemplating on just discarding it and never to be thought about until the end of time but humans are curious little ers with masochistic tendencies and Do Kyungsoo was one of the worst. The crunch of paper upon paper was way too loud in the quiet room and it stings his ears.

Let’s go on a scavenger hunt and see what we can find. Here are your clues:

1. The old lady has the music box. Ask for two milkshakes of different flavors.
2. The yellow birdhouse beside the swing set does not house a bird anymore because something else lives in it.
3. At the highest point a little boy dreams of flying.

The little boy will see you at 6pm at the bridge of hope on the last day of summer.

J.

Kyungsoo puts the letter back in the envelope and left the room but decided against going back to bed where Sehun was, probably still in deep slumber. So he took refuge on the couch – the hardness a stark contrast to the soft linens of his bedding – and willed his eyes to sleep.
 

Sehun stirred awake when he felt the absence of Kyungsoo’s warmth next to him but still he pretended to sleep as he felt the elder’s warm breaths brushing over his cheeks. He was foolish enough to have expected a kiss or at least a caress. He felt rustling as Kyungsoo’s form left the bed and only opened his eyes when he heard the soft click of the door shutting. Rolling on his back, Sehun trained his gaze to the ceiling where he stuck a few dozens of those glow in the dark plastic stars in several different sizes. Because Kyungsoo loved stargazing and he thought the elder would love it. He only ever said “nice” and never addressed them again.

With a heavy sigh he sat up and looked around the room feeling the smooth linens slide down his torso. Sehun doesn’t know why he still opted to stay around Do Kyungsoo. Their relationship was entirely physical – days spent never bordering schedules and paperwork, nights spent with Sehun’s vain attempt at breaking through Kyungsoo’s barricade or a little bit of kissing if he was lucky enough. never came close to actual love making. It was there either because Kyungsoo was frustrated or if both of them are. Three years he skirted around the lid that led to an unknown abyss that was Do Kyungsoo and still Sehun doesn’t know how to get in. Three years and affection was still a foreign word in the vocabulary of their relationship.

They met four years ago on a particularly cold autumn morning – Monday, if he recalled correctly – his first day working as the personal assistant of a certain Mr. Do – a famous singer and blooming actor in the entertainment industry. Kyungsoo was a big name in Seoul, a child prodigy who has the voice of an angel and the beauty that was envied by many. Sehun didn’t expect his boss to possess such beauty and only a year later did he find the courage to throw caution to the wind and made his advances. Sehun thought he already knew Kyungsoo like the back of his hand but Kyungsoo wasn’t as easy to read as his daily schedule Sehun was forced to memorize each and every day. But as masochistic as it may sound, he didn’t mind because by the end of the day he can still tuck himself in Kyungsoo’s embrace and smell the scent of vanilla and strawberry yoghurt that was all Kyungsoo.

Sehun found Kyungsoo asleep on the couch in the living room and went back to fetch a blanket to cover the elder. He sat down on the floor and scooted closer so his face would be parallel to Kyungsoo’s and just watched. Kyungsoo’s eyes twitched as he dreamed and his brows showed far too much stress for a sleeping young man. Sehun doesn’t remember the last time he saw Kyungsoo smile or if he ever saw him genuinely smile. He kept his expression calm and stoic all the time. He wonders where Kyungsoo’s emotions have gone to. He’s been exceptionally tense these past two weeks – since he came back from his grandmother’s funeral. And then he realized that he knew nothing of the man in from him.

The idea of living together didn’t come up until their second anniversary, when Sehun became a constant presence in the lonely condominium. Sehun started nagging on how much he spent staying over that he almost forgot the route to his own apartment. Kyungsoo’s “So just live here then” came so easy as if he was used to telling other people to just live with him. For a few months Sehun drowned in the thought that this was it, he was finally serious about their relationship. But he didn’t feel at home anymore and he felt as though he was barging in unannounced. He felt cold. Unwelcomed.

But it’s okay right? It’s okay to let him use his body and his heart like this because Kyungsoo never promised him love; he brought this upon himself on his own.
 

Kyungsoo woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and melted butter on warm toast, the clock on the opposite wall showed 9:25 am. A low hum and random tinkering from the kitchen were the only things that validated Sehun’s presence. It was nice to finally be able to wake up on his own terms after months of forced awaking too early in the morning only to be granted four hours of sleep if he was lucky. Work has gotten in the way of almost everything in his life for so long that he doesn’t know how to function when he was granted a long break. But he welcomed sleep like a long lost friend, as if repaying the hours he has forced it away.

Sehun turned his head towards the sound of chair scraping on linoleum, locked his jaw at his foolish hope that Kyungsoo would hug him from behind like in those movies where romance was obviously exaggerated. He’s done it numerous times on Kyungsoo but never has the elder returned the favor as Sehun has endlessly imagined. Maybe, he thought, it’s time to accept the fact that Kyungsoo never will. He forced a smile on his face as he turned to face the raven haired male sitting in front of him and asked if he slept well. He was paid with the usual stoic “yes” and they proceeded to eat breakfast in silence with the occasional small talk which was more on Sehun’s part. It felt all too familiar – like a movie on loop, a spin on fantasy, predictable – and Sehun was getting bored.

The day went by much too slow and it was too hot to be outside the comfort of his house. It did nothing to ease his nerves. Kyungsoo tries to push the image of a certain blue envelope away from his thoughts as his eyes flitted across Murakami’s sentence over and over in a vain attempt to bury it in the deepest depths of his mind. He closed the book shut and ran a hand through his hair only to be haunted by the words of his best friend.

The little boy will see you at 6pm at the bridge of hope on the last day of summer.

“Hey, Sehun. When’s the last day of summer?”

“How would anyone know? But I guess fall’s coming in a week.”

Kyungsoo sighed as he stood up from his position on the couch, surrendering to his subconscious as he let his legs lead him towards Jongin’s letter. The last day of summer. He was a little bit angry at Jongin because he did it again – coming and going as he pleases. But he was angrier at himself for actually anticipating his comeback. Deep down he knew that this is exactly what he has been waiting for.

When he walked into the living room, he saw Sehun sitting on the couch staring blankly at the muted tv. Kyungsoo weighed his options – to ask him what was wrong or to just leave him alone. Kyungsoo himself would’ve wanted to not be bothered but if the years of knowing Sehun had taught him anything, he knew Sehun would want someone to ask if he was okay. So he approached the younger man and softly asked him if he was alright.

“Maybe we should break it off.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just – it doesn’t feel right anymore with you, Kyungsoo. I’m tired of being the only person to show commitment. I can’t do this anymore.” He sounded so exhausted that it hit Kyungsoo with guilt because most of the time he doesn’t know why he’s with Sehun in the first place. He was a good man but he had to admit that he never felt what Sehun felt for him.

“I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do. And it’s okay if that’s how you feel. I can’t hold you where you don’t want to be.”

“Thank you. I’ll be moving back to my old place and I’ll probably need some time to take my stuff back.”

“It’s alright. Take your time. I’m going back to my hometown for the week.”

They parted on good terms and Sehun left with a promise that he’d still be his manager and they can stay friends. It has Kyungsoo thinking that sometimes relationships don’t work because it’s in the way of something else that’s much better. He still doesn’t know when summer would end but he drove back to his hometown anyway. Once he arrived, Kyungsoo didn’t drive straight to their house. Instead, he stopped at the old milkshake shop.

1. The old lady has the music box. Ask for two milkshakes of different flavors.

“Hi, auntie. Can I have two milkshakes, please – one vanilla and one chocolate.”

“Here you go.”

“I was wondering if you had a music box of some sort?” he asked, trying his luck.

“If by that you mean an old Walkman, then yes. Jonginnie left them here before he left.”

“Do you by any chance know where he went?”

“I figured he must’ve gone back to college.”

The thanked the auntie and left for the playground bringing with him two cups of milkshake and an old ridiculously orange secondhand Walkman.

2. The yellow birdhouse beside the swing set does not house a bird anymore because something else lives in it.

He stands in front of the small birdhouse wondering why he is even doing this scavenger hunt that Jongin made up. He sets the milkshakes and Walkman carefully on the seat of a swing, then reached inside the small hole of the birdhouse after making sure there really was no bird inside. What he retrieved instead was a cassette labelled “OUR SONGS” in bold red ink. Jongin’s handwriting.

He was amazed that the Walkman can still work and he got lost in the crappy upbeat music and the lyrics of the songs Jongin used to play as they sipped on their milkshakes. An hour later, Kyungsoo went through both sides of the cassette and drank both milkshakes to the last drop. His curiosity grew as time went by and he remembered the third clue.

3. At the highest point a little boy dreams of flying.

He remembers Jongin saying that the old elementary school roof was once the highest point they have ever been on. He thanked whatever God was up there watching him that it was Saturday and the school was as deserted as a graveyard at night. Kyungsoo went up to the roof with all the strength he could muster to be there as fast as he could.

When he reached his destination, all that greeted him was a scrap of blue paper taped on the floor – laminated so the ink wouldn’t be smudged in case it rained. Smart. On the paper is the same writing as is on the letter and the cassette. It made Kyungsoo wonder when the hell Jongin put all of these together.

”Here lies Kim Jongin and his dreams of flying. Because gravity is a .”

Kyungso didn’t know what to feel because it all came at once, he wanted to laugh, and then he wanted to scream, but at the same time he wanted to cry and when he noticed the setting sun he knew he was running out of time. And by now panic and fear has replaced all rational thoughts.

The little boy will see you at 6pm at the bridge of hope on the last day of summer.

The bridge of hope is the bridge they crossed every day on the way to school. It was called that because kids always shouted what they hoped for before jumping into the shallow river six feet below so that their hopes would be granted. Kyungsoo always thought it was bogus but he always jumped in with Jongin every time the younger coaxed him. He ran as fast as he could and when he reached the bridge, he saw Jongin leaning on the railing.

“Took you long enough,” Jongin said smiling his favorite smile.

“Am I too late?”

“No. You’re just in time. Look.”

In front of him was the most beautiful sunset he has ever seen. Suddenly he was reminded of the days they used to sit on the ledge of this very bridge for hours just to catch the sunset. They’d get scolded for staying out so late but they’d go at it all over again the next day.

“I never thought I’d guess the last day of summer on the first try.”

“I don’t think today is the last day of summer.”

“But how would you have known I was gonna be here today?”

“The milkshake auntie called me earlier. You know, there’s this amazing thing called a cellphone, hyung. In case you forgot.”

“Very funny,” Kyungsoo said with a roll of his eyes.

“Thanks for coming,” Jongin said as he closed the distance between them. He looks rather disheveled from where he stands – stubble growing wildly across his chin and hair falling onto his eyes – but handsome nonetheless.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know what came over him or where his head went to but in that moment all he could ever register in his mind was Jongin’s beautiful smile on top of his chapped lips and the calming thrum of Jongin’s heartbeat under his fingers. He reveled in the warmth of Jongin’s embrace and the pleasuring feeling of his lips moving against Kyungsoo’s.

And as cliché as it may seem, Kyungsoo suddenly felt things falling into place. And as for Jongin, he finally realized that all he ever needed was right in front of him. That the exit wound from the bullet that went through his heart all those years ago has healed because of Kyungsoo.

“Welcome home, Jongin.”