Baekhyun #6                                                                                             

             18

“You look…” Words are but jumbled into the most direct description for Jongdae as he welcomes his best friend.

I happened to be close to glaring at him before he can finish his cloudy sentence. “Try to start off the morning with a pleasant hello, Jongdae.” I sighed into the home before patting his arm whilst he closed the door to hold back a chuckle.

“It’s only mandatory I get back to calling you names like I used to.” He had to gesture his hand at my furrowed brows ; by stopping the crease with his finger, he simply put it.

From the beginning I could recall running around this house and slamming doors just to get away from Jongdae and his dangerously clumsy character. He’d tease me, scare me and make fun of me. What’s to like about Kim Jongdae honestly?

He’s never let me down when it counted. This is a lot because it doesn’t take much to disappoint me either. As we grew into men , we had a hard time describing our friendship period. It’s not ever a bad thing when you can’t explain who you became friends with and how they’re your best friend.

In some cases, most friends meet because they gave each other the worst memory of their life.

In our case, I got lost, Jongdae got lost, we found each other decided to go play at an abandoned complex’s park in the neighborhood and started beating each other up when Jongdae came up with the craziest thought –that our parents ate each other so we had to battle to the death. The imagination the kid had scared me and had me raise my fist for the first time.

“Honestly, Baekhyun, didn’t you sleep at all?” He questioned me before subtly urging I let him wrap his arm around my shoulder. He now leads us to his kitchen.

While Jongdae doesn’t live alone, the house is temporarily empty. He has his dad and the support of a mother that never fails to encourage the two men from overseas. She’s basically never home –visits Jongdae when she can and happily remarried a couple of years after the divorce was final.

I remember that day. It was hard for Jongdae. Plenty of times he refused to stay home and now, he’s moving out –going to University that’s hundreds of miles away. I’ll not be able to see him often anymore and I deeply regret not keeping account of the possibility that not only was I losing my memory but also a chance to reconnect with a dear friend.

I came here for that reason. “I skipped a treatment today to see you so I guess I’m a bit off.” I have to admit it however, I ate breakfast –so no harm done. Not that I want him to know there’s need to fret. He should feel honored, and now it shows on his genuinely enlightened countenance.

“You did? Man, thanks.” He opens up before patting my back and tossing over a bottle of water. “We’re going to be working hard this morning so, stay hydrated.” He smiled before closing his eyes briefly.

I watch him have a moment to himself and then the smallest pang at my chest causes me to sympathize with him as he mutters four words.

“I hate this part.”

I insist on the contrary, “If it’s you Jongdae, I’m sure it will get better soon than later.

“It’s going to get better, isn’t it?” Now open to the greater factor, Jongdae takes a deep breath and ignores the tiny feeling that has always scared him for a time such as this.

“I get it.”

To take a step for yourself takes great lengths and if anyone can do it, it’s going to be Jongdae. He’s always had a vision but he never thought he deserved to take it for himself. There hadn’t been much of any pressure where I could see –being childhood friends, his parents were very active in his life and are healthier than fish in water. He’s proactive every day of his life, most people love his company; he’s basically a scholar in school despite the complex. So, what could have been pardoned?

Jongdae loves company. He just loves being involved. That’s why he’s going to be an art director. He’ll be a part of many hurdles that stretch beyond his capacity and he loves it. He’s never been challenged, never had much heartbreak –nothing physically or mentally has made his valiant conscious so inspiring.

I suppose that’s what I understand. When it’s time to be a man, you make your own decisions. “I tried and failed so I had to rebuild...” I care to probe at the side of my head and give a small gesture.

Jongdae looks devastated –almost as if it breaks his heart. “So you were hiding something –do you remember what it was?” He’s offering his attention very strongly now, but his lips are quite tight and his eyes begin blinking.

Where his question is out of date, I laugh, “I do. I’ve found out for some time but there’s no rush yet. Let’s just get your things in the truck Mister Art Director.”

“I can already see you buzzing around ordering people to see the light.” I add and feel a nudge from behind as I’m pushed towards the first area of boxes.

“Send me a little less to worry about. I really hate raising my voice.” He lies and I come up with the perfect opportunity to replay a few moments in life.

“Care to remember the school fair, you forced me and three others to join then bossed us around to play out the details in your head. No one knows what’s in that head of yours, Jongdae.” I jeopardized my entire motor skills that day and he knows it.

“I didn’t know a body could be so exhausted when working with their best friend for a fun event!” Jongdae wishes he never heard that and when he picks up the first box, he expresses much pain. “Dammit, I am trying not to cry over here.”

It’s obvious he feels the opposite because he glares on his way past me. I end up chuckling. Before taking a box, I check my phone on another note. Since sending that text to Chanyeol –I hadn’t received a single reply.

It was a bit tampering. Though I had never saved his number in my phone, I did this time. I was pretty much trying to do the opposite that went against hiding him. I wanted to keep him in my phone, hopefully create a less chilling outbreak on things that showed strength.

Though I look back at things and they were great, I cannot allow something like to happen again. For many reasons I figured perhaps I was ashamed to love a man. Then perhaps –I wasn’t ready to take a step away from him?

Was I growing too attached?

I clearly remember coming up with ideas off the bat, but for Chanyeol –I never heard about his troubles… he never managed to talk for too long about his worries. What was on his mind when I was chatting away? He thought of me it seems, and after some time that’s what made me fall for him.

Was I becoming selfish?

I don’t remember a fight and he doesn’t mention one.

To allow him to heal himself, that’s the least I should do but I feel impatient. While he finds himself I’ll be trying to find him and it’s only breaking my heart but this is how it’s going to be. Life will go on and I guess…

“I’ll try again…”

oo18

As Jongdae’s packing up the van he ironically decided to pay off from Taeyeon, he groans when he realized he missed it. “I forgot one box.”

I overhear this. “Where is the last box?” I yell from the front door. I am pretty much tired after I am directed to go to the basement. The door already opened, assures me the direction and I hustle downstairs with the light thankfully on.

There are a few touches lost to the space since this area was Jongdae’s. He did a lot of things down here but really, only so much was he bringing. From there a secured box at the top of the table within the room catches my eye.

Hoping to get a good grip of this box when I take a hold of it, I bite my lip some and shank it up a bit before sustaining it between my arms. It’s pretty heavy –maybe twelve pounds if I keep breathing through my nose and mouth.

As it seems, the stairs don’t help me along the way and for a moment I come close to tilting over. It makes me hesitant and furthermore while I lean on the wall to catch a breath, I realize it’s more serious than I had imagined.

His voice is knocking at the back of my skull. It’s hard to breathe and my brain feels as though it’s trembling.

I worry about my state of coherency – “Not now…” Because it’s at this moment that I’m remembering something and it’s unclear what of it insists I am supposed to sweat bullets. As it appears, fragments then shimmer out as if I’m still suppressing the amounts of fractioned gallimaufry.

To mel