I think of you, I haven't slept
I think I do but I don't forget
My body moves, goes where I will
But though I try my heart stays still
It never moves, just won't be led
And so my mouth waters to be fed

And you're always in my head
You're always in my head
 
This I guess is to tell you 
You're chosen out from the rest

- Coldplay

 

---

“Is it okay if I don’t say I love you?”

“Yes,” Joonmyun hums as he lets Kyungsoo lay down on his chest, his fingers reaching through tufts of the younger’s soft hair as they watch a game show on TV.

“It’s not that I don’t find spending time with you great,” Kyungsoo starts, and Joonmyun closes his eyes as he feels the thrum of Kyungsoo’s voice against his body. He snuggles further, wrapping his arms around the latter as he feels the warmth of Kyungsoo’s body through his and places his palm on Kyungsoo’s chest, as if to hear his heartbeat.

Kyungsoo looks up mid-sentence, swallowing sadly as he sees Joonmyun falling asleep, head lilting to the side, face calm and peaceful.

He wonders if he should feel guilty, but then he remembers, no matter how long Kyungsoo has been visiting the elder, this is not a real relationship.

This is not how humans meet each other or connect.

It may be convincing, but it’s not real.

Not really.

Joonmyun opens his eyes and pulls the clinging head set over his eyes and ears. He is in his bedroom, in his parent’s basement, and signed off from his online augmented reality account. He paid for his account last June one lonely evening after high school. He met Kyungsoo mid-august and they have been spending time with each other a lot.

Joonmyun has been infatuated with the latter ever since he saw him at a supermarket in the game. He had been collecting groceries for his flat, marvelling at how great the game quality was as he picked up a strawberry and popped it in his mouth. He still wasn’t over how uncannily realistic things seemed, only having played the game for a couple months. But when he saw Kyungsoo, his feelings for him couldn’t have been falsified or faked. He fell into real love.

At high-school when he spent his lunches sitting alone in the corner of the cafeteria, he would open his phone to look at the print screen’s he’d save, staring lovingly at the boy on the screen wishing he was there with him.

Everything became easier for Joonmyun at school.

The bullies eased off him, he was doing better in exams and he even made a few friends.

But he always stayed reserved, never going to any of their houses when they asked if he wants to come along to house parties.

There’s always been that fear inside Joonmyun to say ‘yes’, to jump in and embrace life with every fibre of his being. He’ll hesitate. They’ll get bored of asking until one day they stop.

But really, all Joonmyun ever wants to say, is yes.

All he ever wants to do is jump in with both feet and dive in.

He’ll always regret it the next day.

Without doubt.

It’s a vicious circle.

When he believes he’s mustered up enough courage and makes his way to his friend’s door, in his mind already planning out what he’ll say, thinking maybe he should be happy and optimistic and say, ‘hi! I’m here for the party, I brought some beer!’ – he’ll play out the situation in his mind before its even happened.

As he’s holding the beer bottle, wearing his smartest shirt, hair slicked back with his fist to the door, ready to knock, he’ll picture disappointed faces and cruel sniggers.

He’ll feel the rejection before receiving it.

His eyes water a little and he turns around, leaving the beer on the door mat and walking away quickly, his heart thudding with each step he takes as he prays that no one opens the door before he leaves.  

How weird would that seem, the kid that no one really knows leaving a beer bottle at the door of a party he disagreed to go to?

He agreed a long time ago that this world was too harsh for him.

That’s probably why he seeks his reality someplace else.

Someplace without hate and rejection and only love.

His own bubble of security.

So, he goes home and he logs into his account and places the headset over his ears and eyes. He lays down on his bed and falls to sleep, allowing his subconscious to channel with the electrolytes flooding through his computer to his brain.

He opens his eyes once more and he’s in his studio flat.

He’s 23 years old and built with a nice curve of a body – nothing like his scrawny high school self. He has muscles that are toned and make him look nice in long sleeved white shirts – the kind that need ties around them and suit jackets on top.

His flat is simple and clean – but he always leaves it a mess, probably because he’s still a 17-year-old senior who needs his mom to clean up his dirty socks.

But other than that, it couldn’t be more further away from the reality he is really holed in.

The view is incredible and it takes his breath away every time he looks.

He can see the statue of liberty ahead of him in the evening sky, along with the Busan landmarks and high tower buildings that shine and glisten for miles upon miles.

In this world, there are no boundaries.

The world he lives in is a hybrid of his ethnic and cultural being.

His heritage may be from Seoul, but as an American his world amalgamates between the two and becomes whatever he wants it to be. Whatever his subconscious claims it to be. His mind is what makes this universe and everything inside of it.

He can smell the street food from a shanty inner-street market that remind him of Seoul, but beside that is a New York hotdog stand that leads to the major road that takes him down Broadway and then through towards Gwanghwamun Square.

Joonmyun looks at his watch quickly and realises he’s late, quickly throwing on his suit jacket and snatching a bagel from his island style kitchen.

His phone rings.

“, I’ll be there in five,” he says, mid-mouthful, as he presses the elevator button impatiently.

The other line on the end grunts and hangs up.

“Who was that?” a voice asks and Joonmyun frowns, turning around quickly.

“Kyungsoo?” he says, a little confused as his eyebrows furrow together. But then he smiles and relaxes, “What are you doing here? Didn’t realise you were off work early.” He smiles, grabbing the younger into a tight hug.

Joonmyun can smell the peppermint chewing gun from Kyungsoo’s breath.

Kyungsoo holds his hand as they enter the elevator and looks up at him.

“Weren’t many customers today, I guess,” Kyungsoo shrugged lightly, pulling off his florist apron and shoving it into his satchel.

Joonmyun kisses the latter’s forehead and rubs his cheek with his thumb – something Joonmyun didn’t ever realise he could have the courage to do in real life.

“I love you,” he says, as if realising it the first time himself, that same old giddy smile on his lips.

The elevator dings open and Kyungsoo pulls Joonmyun out, hand still clasped with the other, walking out of the building.

Kyungsoo quickly hails a cab and Joonmyun pulls off his jacket to cover Kyungsoo as the rain pits down.

It’s like out of his favourite scene from that movie about two New York lovers as they hail a yellow cab in the rain, Joonmyun thinks to himself as he wipes away the droplets of rain skidding across Kyuungsoo’s reddening cheek.

“Don’t forget to bring Poro some dog food on your way home, okay?” Kyungsoo says, smiling softly. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly, as he flinches from the rain and Joonmyun sees the look he fell in love with back at the supermarket in August.

That soft, half-smile and pursed thick lips. The way his eyebrows crinkle whenever he’s concentrating on something, like whether to buy cherries or grapes, or which sandwich to pick at Eddie’s. His soft, faint skin and cheeks that easily get red. The way his shorter body perfectly fits into Joonmyun’s when they lay on the couch some evenings. The way he clutches onto things when he gets scared, like his pororo blanket from when he was a child, or Joonmyun’s arm during horror movies. He always says he’s not afraid, but Joonmyun likes it better when the latter cowers behind a pillow, half hysterical, half terrified – but never alone.

It’s always in his head, engrained inside the neurons of his mind, inside his subconscious. That’s partly the reason why Joonmyun doesn’t mind that Kyungsoo isn’t real. Even though deep down he wishes all of this wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

But he pushes the reality aside and lets himself fall deeper into this other world.

“I’d never let Poro starve, you know that,” Joonmyun says in his deep voice, eyes lulling as he bends over a little to kiss Kyungsoo’s lips. “I’d never let anything happen to any of you.” He says as he rubs his nose over Kyungsoo’s – a habit they both share.

The rain lets up as Joonmyun enters the cab and Kyungsoo waves good bye before making his way down the street.

Joonmyun looks back, over his shoulder and can’t help but smile to himself.

“The beauty of love, right?” the cab driver says, glancing at the rear-view mirror. He has a light smile on his face and kind eyes and Joonmyun agrees, wishing that reality could be like this too.

Beautiful,

Loving,

And with Kyungsoo.

Joonmyun gets to work ten minutes late – to his boss’ disproval.

This world, much like reality, expects you to work for a living, except, you don’t earn money. Instead, you earn points and level ups during promotions. The higher your score, the better your quality of life. You fall in love. You have a family. You find happiness.

It is like, the harder you work and earn your level ups, the greater your reward.

There is no risk.

Only achievements, success and fulfilment.

Judgement and failure don’t exist, if your mind does not want it to.

But much of this world is subjective.

It depends on the player.

It acts on the deepest, darkest depths of someone’s conscious and from that submerges an entire new world, an alternate reality personalised to your wants, desires and needs.

At least, that’s what the brochure said at the gaming store.

He remembers the day clearly.

It was a hot summer day two years before he purchased the game. Thirteen years old and there was no school so Joonmyun spent most of his time sitting at the store sifting through comics he’d read a million times before.

A man came in, a tall man who had an air of superiority around him. He looked out of place being here and stormed towards the back.

Joonmyun followed, cautiously, as he looked through the curtain separating the area from the rest of the store.

“Kris, it’s not ready yet,” a voice called out,

“Lay, it was supposed to be ready last week. I’ve got the promotors on my back waiting for the launch, you need to hurry the up,” the supposed, Kris, snapped.

“Chill Kris, it takes time, you can’t rush these things otherwise things go wrong and you’ll get ed over with a lawsuit that shuts this whole thing down,” Lay says, calmly as he wires something together on an interface.

Kris sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He pulls out a pamphlet and throws it on Lay’s desk, the latter looking up,

“Boss wanted me to show you this, call me when the works done, okay. And please for the love of God, get the done.”

Kris walks away, taking long strides as Joonmyun scuffles back and hides away. He sees one of the pamphlets fall from his pocket and quickly goes to pick it up, folding it away and sliding it into his own.

He quickly hides away from view as he watches Kris storm off after having taken a phone call and remembers opening it up when he’s in his bedroom later that evening.

He spends the rest of his summer saving up for its release by washing his dad’s car and working at a fast food chain. All he has in his mind is the thought of a way out of here, a place that doesn’t confine him by limitations, but instead extend on from his potential.

Potential that others have always failed to see.

 

A voice is what calls Joonmyun back from his daydream. Chen snaps his fingers at Joonmyun and grins.

“What you thinking about, huh?” Chen smirks, as he goes to his computer across from Joonmyun and starts tapping formulas into a spreadsheet.

Joonmyun shakes his head, smiling to himself, as he begins to carry on his work.

He doesn’t really do anything at work. It’s more conceptual. The work acts as a background for what Joonmyun would like to do. As he taps the keyboard, the image of formulas and spreadsheets appears, but in reality the work for him is to have a clear and open conversation with Chen – his best friend in this world, but a childhood bully in the other. Work here lasts an hour, so their conversations usually range in whatever Joonmyun has ever wanted to ask Chen.

Sometimes Joonmyun would tell Chen his deepest fears and insecurities, he’d listen to Chen’s (and even though he knew they weren’t real, he liked to think they were), they’d go for lunch sometimes, talk about Chen’s fiasco ex-girlfriends and Kyungsoo. In this world, Joonmyun grew up with Chen as a supportive friend rather than a bully, somebody who he could count on and lean his shoulder on. In this world Joonmyun was popular. And together, he and Chen were the most good looking, the most charming and the most cherished in the office. Girls would swoon over Chen at the coffee machines and Joonmyun would never be alone during lunch. There’d always be someone, whether real or not, a figment of his imagination or an alternate reality – he was never alone. The hour that he had at work would always fly by, he’d hit his targets, make it up to his boss for being late by taking the time out to ask about his wife and kids and even get a smile out of the janitor as he left his office.

“See you later, Carl,” Joonmyun said as he put on the sleeves of his jacket, “say hi to the kids for me, okay?”

Joonmyun gets in his cab and puts the dog food he just bought on the seat next to him. He switches his phone on and checks his messages.

He hasn’t got any miscalls, just a text from Chen asking when their on for basketball next week.

He scrolls up to see Kyungsoo as first on his contact list and smiles as he looks through their texts. Kyungsoo sent him some pictures of Poro a few days back and a selfie with Poro and he hovers his fingers over the picture.

Suddenly, Joonmyun feels this ache in the space between his ear and his neck. He manages to control the aches, but suddenly a sharp pain rips through his body and he screams out in pain.

The cab driver, not even turning back, barely flinches as the world around him suddenly begins to fizzle away as if it were buffering around him. He tries to hold on to the passenger seat in front of him, but his hand falls through it as if it were a hologram. He looks around, scared, helpless as the world he’s built continues without him and suddenly he’s being snatched into the real one.

“Joonmyun!”

“JOONMYUN! Wake up!”

Joonmyun groggily opens his eyes as he lays on his bed. His mother looks down at him furiously with the head set in her hands and he quickly gets up, looking around.

“Why did you do that! Don’t touch it!” Joonmyun shouts, grabbing the set from her hands and checking over it to see it’s not damaged.

“You spend too much time on your stupid video games, Joonmyun.” His mother chides as she begins throwing his dirty clothes from the floor into the wash basket. “You wouldn’t be getting away with this if you’re father–” and suddenly she stops in her tracks as she looks down solemnly.

“What?” Joonmyun says angrily, his breaths turning shaky as he tries to maintain his composure, “What? Go on! If my father was here and tried to ing stay around, then?”

“Don’t curse,” his mother says wearily, grabbing the basket before making her way out. He turns away, angry and upset.

“Mom,” Joonmyun shouts, breathing out a sigh as he calms himself, “Mom, please… don’t go… I’m sorry.”

Joonmyun turns to see his door closed as he stands in an empty room.

He keeps the game in a shoebox under his bed for two weeks with just the memory of Kyungsoo to keep him warm during the cold winter nights. He starts cleaning up around the house and helps his mom cook dinner as his apology. He’s never been good with words, but with actions, he always made the loudest point.

And that was that he was trying.

He wanted to do better, to be better.

Not like his father.

Who ran away from everything.

It was a few days after Christmas last year when Joonmyun woke up to his parents arguing. His mother was in the kitchen holding his father’s phone as she threw it at him and told him to leave. She didn’t really want him to – that’s what Joonmyun tells himself on particularly hard nights when he misses his father. It was his dad who made the decision to cheat on his family, to run away without a fight into some other life he’d carved for himself with some other woman that wasn’t Joonmyun’s mother.

I guess Joonmyun is a lot like his father in many ways.

They both try to escape the world that’s paved out for them and cheat destiny.

Perhaps it is easier this way than dealing with the pain of the real.

Joonmyun wonders, sometimes, if his father misses him and his mother at all.

It’s nearly been two years since the day he purchased the game.

The day his father left him.

He didn’t even call.

Not once.

He had the pamphlet pinned up on a board above his desk that day. He looked at it and thought that if his father could have everything, then, why can’t he?

At first, the game was just a handling mechanism for his father leaving him, a way to escape. A place where he didn’t have to face the truth of his father leaving the family, the truth that true love doesn’t exist; that even relationships built on the most fertile soil will eventually wither away. But then it slowly became something more. A part of him didn’t want to lose the chance of having someplace else to go. It’s like he always knew, deep down, that there has to be something better than what there is - something truer.

So, on the last day of the second week he had kept the game in a shoebox under his bed, Joonmyun pulled it out and put the head set on, taking a deep breath before letting go and falling back on his bed.

“Kyungsoo?” Joonmyun calls out as he holds the phone against his ear. “,” he curses softly, redialling the number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

He’s in the cab – the same one that his mother woke him up from – as he looks outside to see familiar buildings that weren’t there before.

He assumed that two weeks would not affect the world and the people living there, but as Joonmyun signed on, the world around him looked a little different.

Joonmyun gets to his door when he sees someone new walking towards one of the apartments. It was a new neighbour, a boy Joonmyun’s seen around in school, Byun Baekhyun. He’s 21 in this world, young, spritely, shorter than Joonmyun and always wearing eyeliner and tight black jeans. Baekhyun’s vivacity for life, something shared in both at school and this world, was something Joonmyun had always admired; even if he didn’t really know or talk to Baekhyun much. He remembers seeing Baekhyun walking around the school with a few friends near the vending machine. Baekhyun was always kind to everyone, he even lent Joonmyun a pencil in math once; an act of kindness that no other kid has done before.  

“Hi,” Baekhyun says with a wide smile as he sees Joonmyun open his door,

“Hi,” Joonmyun says, his mind too busy on Kyungsoo as he tries opening his door. “The key’s not working?” he whispers to himself as he frowns, trying to twist the lock as hard as he can, but the door doesn’t open.

Baekhyun frowns, seeing that Joonmyun’s struggling and goes to help.

“Here, let me try,” Baekhyun says, putting his shopping bags down and Joonmyun gives him the key.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says a little sadly, “it’s not working.”

Of course, it isn’t, Joonmyun thinks to himself sarcastically before snatching the key off Baekhyun and storming away.

Baekhyun watches as Joonmyun tries dialling a number on his phone as he walks away and rolls his eyes before opening his own apartment door.

“Here, let me help you,” Kyungsoo smiles as he gets up off the sofa and takes the shopping bags to the kitchen island.

“I’m guessing that is your boyfriend?” Baekhyun says before grabbing a soda can and taking a swig. “He doesn’t seem possessive and crazy at all,” Baekhyun says sarcastically as he helps Kyungsoo with the shopping.

“I know he means well,” Kyungsoo says sadly, “we just don’t want the same things.”

Baekhyun shrugs before sitting down on his couch,

“Whatever, you and your dog can crash here as long as you like as far as I’m concerned.”

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says softly, picking up Poro and the back of his furry ears, “I know it’s short notice, considering you just moved in,” he looks at the filled cardboard boxes around the apartment, “but he hasn’t been here for two weeks and today, something was just calling out for me to not be there when he gets back. It would hurt more if he heard it from me.” He says, more to himself as Baekhyun sits engrossed in a reality television show. 

 

“Kyungsoo, please, answer my calls, I don’t know where you are but I’m so sorry for leaving, I just…I need to hear your voice. Please.” Joonmyun says before clicking the phone shut.

He closes his eyes and feels the tears b around them before taking a deep breath and opening his phone again.

“I’m not giving up on you Kyungsoo.” He says to himself, ignoring the looks from passers-by around him as he storms away angrily.

Two weeks ago, he had everything.

He had love, friendship and approval.

But now, not even Chen’s picking up his calls.

Is this what happens when you stop playing? Does the game go back to a restart mode, the default?

When Joonmyun first started playing he had nothing, not even a home. He had to go to a housing tenant and apply for one, staying in hostels in the meantime as he found a job. Finding one was easy and from there on he began levelling up and creating his own virtual empire.

Did all that game time mean nothing anymore?

Does Kyungsoo still exist?

Everything begins caving in for Joonmyun as he walks around, lost; an empty vessel of the man he had worked so hard to create. Now all that remained was that same disappointed, introverted 15-year-old whose father walked out on him. He couldn’t change who he was no matter how hard he tried to cover it up. No matter how successful he became, how many friends he made or whoever he fell in love with, it didn’t matter because none of it was real.

And almost as quickly as he had created the man he wanted to be, his perfect avatar, he found himself looking at the same high school senior in the reflection of a car window, who no matter how hard he tried, could never become a better version of himself in this world or the other.

So he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to sleep, his avatar body collapsing as people around him try to come and help him, thinking he has fainted.

Come on, wake up, he thinks to himself.

The only way for him to get back up in the real world is if he falls asleep. He’ll then wake up safely in the real world. But something was wrong.

“Hey man, are you okay?” a familiar voice calls out,

Joonmyun looks up to see Chen holding his head up.

“Chen, what are you doing here?”

“You called me, but my phone died so I came looking for you. You alright, man?”

Joonmyun shakes his head and starts to cry deeply as Chen holds him for comfort.

Chen takes him to a doughnut shop nearby and gets Joonmyun an almond latte – Joonmyun’s favourite in the real world.

“What happened?” Chen asks, genuinely concerned.

Joonmyun looks at him warily, it could all be a trick.

“Nothing, just a momentary blip.” Joonmyun says, shaking it off.

But Chen doesn’t give up easy.

“Look, I’m your friend, you can tell me anything.”

Joonmyun looks up at him,

“But that’s just it,” Joonmyun starts, rage stemming from within him, “you are not my friend and you’ll never be my friend.”

Chen leans back, face relaxing, as if he realised something.

He looks in disgust and gets up,

“What are you doing here jackass that’s my seat!”  

Joonmyun looks up, shocked, afraid, lips trembling as he sees the same boy who in fifth grade took all his friends away from him and continued from thereon to make his life hell. He sees all of them, surrounding him, the boys and girls who would call him names, never give him a chance – ignore his potential. They are circling him now, in the café, watching him with smirks on their faces.

The game plays off the deepest depths of the subconscious and it seems Joonmyun has given up altogether on his fantasy. All he sees now is the world he tried so hard to avoid. The darkest reality of them all. 

This was never his peaceful haven.

The promises this game made, they were a lie.

His wants, needs and desires – they were never real to begin with.

He needs to go back to the one person who made it feel real.

Joonmyun gets up and pushes his way out from the crowd and runs towards his apartment block.

He’s nearly reached the door when he sees Kyungsoo walking out of Baekhyun’s apartment room. Joonmyun doesn’t think twice before he grabs Kyungsoo and kisses him, letting his lips desperately grasp at the last ounce of affection and love he has left.

But Kyungsoo pulls away.

“Not you too.” Joonmyun says sadly, resting his head against Kyungsoo as he holds the latter’s cheeks in his hands, “please, not you too.”

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo asks, confused, but then Joonmyun is pulling him in for a hug.

“Don’t ever leave me,” Joonmyun says in between sobs as he cries into Kyungsoo’s neck, holding him tighter.

“I…” Kyungsoo is lost for words as he tries to comfort Joonmyun, but he can’t do this.

Not anymore.

“Joonmyun, please let me go,” Kyungsoo says quietly, but Joonmyun grips tighter. “I don’t love you, Joonmyun.” Kyungsoo says, and he can barely react as the words fall out. He wants to take it back, for Joonmyun’s sake, but a part of him knows it’s better this way.

Joonmyun feels something rip through him as Kyungsoo finally pulls himself away. The younger places his hand on his other arm, just above his elbow, something he does when he feels vulnerable as he looks at Joonmyun with sad eyes.

All Joonmyun can do is look down now, he stares at the ground, beyond the point of hope.

“I haven’t been able to love in a long time,” Kyungsoo says, trying to justify himself, but Joonmyun interrupts him.

“No. You’re not even real.” Joonmyun says, he would have sounded insane to anyone in the real world. “You’re just a figment of my imagination – you don’t exist.”

Kyungsoo frowns, taken aback, he shakes his head lightly.

Joonmyun almost breaks out into hysterical laughter,

“I’ve been loving a ghost, and it turns out, the ghost doesn’t love me back.”

Kyungsoo tries to comfort him, but Joonmyun flinches.

“All my life I have never been able to see the reality in front of me, Kyungsoo. Isn’t it ironic, now, that the reality I’ve been hiding from was never there to begin with. I should’ve known. This is just a video game. I am a player. You-” Joonmyun looks up at Kyungsoo with sad eyes, “-you’re just a pawn.”

Kyungsoo holds Joonmyun’s hands gently,

“No,” he says softly, unable to hear any of this. It is real, he wants to say, but before he can Joonmyun is pulling away.

“Of course, you wouldn’t love me.” Joonmyun smiles, he thinks about how stupid he’s been acting. “You’re not programmed to.”

Kyungsoo feels the tears prickling his eyes as he watches Joonmyun smile at him sadly. The elder closes his eyes and Kyungsoo parts his lips to talk.

“I’m not a pawn in this game, Joonmyun. I’m rea–”

And suddenly, before Kyungsoo can finish his sentence, Joonmyun is ripped away from this world.

He throws away his game set in the bin, wipes his tears and slings his rucksack over his shoulder.

Joonmyun storms out of his house and heads to the bridge near the park a few blocks away on his bike. He can hear his mother calling after him from a distance but carries on, peddling furiously as he tries to get out of his own head.

All he sees is Kyungsoo.

Everywhere.

Everything brushes by him in a blur, the houses, shops and trees all mesh into one as his tears stop him from seeing clearly and all he’s focused on is running away. Just like his father, just like his friends, just like … Kyungsoo.

Life leaves Joonmyun deserted and empty, a void of what was once a young, bright and happy child has now grown into a bitter and angry teenager. What was once buried in fertile soil, eventually withers in time. What was once full of hope and love, becomes muddied with disappointment, regret and hatred.

Joonmyun doesn’t hear the car honk behind him as he slows down his peddle.

He doesn’t feel the windshield’s glass smash through his body, or see his bike skid in front of him as he loses grip of the handle. He feels weightless, for what seems like forever, until his body hits the concrete with a loud and violent thud. The sound of people screaming, a car honking, a distant wail of an ambulance ring – they all bundle into one, muffled sound that he wants so much to stop.

He hopes his mother isn’t there. He wishes he didn’t have to do this to her. He knows this is the end.

So, he closes his eyes one last time as the pain creeps throughout his body and he pictures the boy he once loved in his mind, and their faithful dog, sitting on the couch one evening. And when Joonmyun asks him,

“Kyungsoo, do you love me?”

Kyungsoo answers right this time.

“Of course, I do. I always have.”

 

 

Weeks goes by before Joonmyun’s mother holds his funeral.  

It’s a quiet service with an open casket. The white lilies were his father’s gift. It doesn’t make up for his lack of presence though, an act Joonmyun’s mother will never forgive. But she doesn’t care about that anymore. She just stands still, staring at her son who is lying in the casket, his hair swept back the way she did it when he was a toddler. She cries in her hands quietly as her mother comforts her, but nothing can take away the pain that shakes her down to the core. She wishes she was there for him more, wishes that she focused on how he was feeling rather than how he was acting. But instead, she sits down thinking about the baby boy she held in her arms, smiling up at her with his wide, imploring eyes, wishing to see and hear everything – but never again able to hear his mother’s voice.

Behind her are a few of Joonmyun’s school friends who came over to pay their respects. They listen as the priest recites a verse from the bible. But they don’t know what to feel, how could they mourn someone they hardly knew. Except one of them. The boy who asked Joonmyun to the party, Byun Baekhyun. He goes up to the casket and places a rose on top of it as he looks at Joonmyun’s peaceful face.

“I know it was you who left the beer bottle there that day. I just want you to know that we would have let you in. You would have been welcomed. Not everyone hated you, you know?” Baekhyun whispers quietly, before shedding a tear, wiping it away and sniffling as he makes his way back to the row to take a seat. 

There’s another high school kid lurking in the back, but he doesn’t make an appearance. He just watches from the back, dried tear tracks down his cheeks as he cries quietly to himself.

It’s Chen.

He hasn’t let anyone see him like this before and he wasn’t about to change that. But one thing he will allow himself to feel, is the guilt. He was the one who made Joonmyun’s life a misery when really, he should have been a friend. And although Joonmyun died in an accident, he knew that every day that kid walked into school, his head down and his eyes sad, that Joonmyun was another day closer to death, whether it was an accident or not.

So, Chen cowers away in the back and quickly turns around to walk away, shoulders heavier as if the weight of the world was placed on them.

The day goes by as Joonmyun’s family visit and Joonmyun’s friends soon disappear as they go back to their homes.

Baekhyun stays seated however, feeling the weight bare heavy on his heart as he watches Joonmyun’s mother step outside to talk to the priest and a funeral associate wanting to discuss what happens from here.

The room is empty, void for Baekhyun, as a figure enters and Baekhyun turns around to see.

The figure, an older man around his mid-forty’s, walks into the church slowly. He brushes a tuft of his dark hair across his forehead and tucks it behind his ear. The tops of his cheeks are a blushed red from the cold outside, and his eyebrows are furrowed deeply, as if he were elsewhere with his thoughts. He has a dog beside him, a guide dog, on the leash, helping him towards walking closer, step by step.

Baekhyun gets up to help the man walk towards Joonmyun.

“Did you know him well?” Baekhyun asks sadly.

“Yes,” he says in a thick Korean accent. “I’m so sorry,” he sighs shakily, as if he were to drop down and sink into the earth.

Baekhyun leads him towards the casket before taking a step back to allow the stranger to pay his respects. The latter reaches out his hand towards Joonmyun’s face, cupping it gently as he bends over slowly.

“It’s me,” he says, tears dripping now, down his chin as he rests his head against Joonmyun’s, he rubs his nose against the latter’s and kisses his forehead. He sniffles, swallowing the guilt as he tries to muster up the courage and find his words.

“I wanted to be there for you.” He starts, “but I wasn’t looking for love.”

Baekhyun looks confused as he pets the stranger’s dog as he listens on.

“I was there for an escape from this,” he says, insinuating his blindness, “I haven’t always been shrouded in darkness, I once was young and in love a long time ago. But I lost him to abusive and angry parents. My life from there was empty. I married, but I didn’t have a family. I lost my sight many years ago. I felt like I deserved it for a very long time, as if I was being punished for not opening my eyes soon enough and embracing what I had. So, my nurse offered me this programme, she said I would have my sight back. And I saw you,” the stranger smiles, finding it hard to keep a steady voice as the tears fall down quicker onto Joonmyun’s shirt.

“Um, sir, I don’t know how long…”

“Just, one more minute,” the stranger says gently, and Baekhyun smiles sadly before nodding. He sits back down as the dog jumps into his lap and he scratches behind its furry ear.

The stranger turns back to Joonmyun,

“And the moment I saw you, everything was clear. But I was too afraid, just like the first time. Too afraid to let go and allow myself to love and more importantly, be loved, by you.”

Baekhyun listens on as he feels an overwhelming sadness hit him like a wave.

“And the biggest mistake of all,”

The stranger pulls out a small photograph from his pocket and places it under Joonmyun’s hand.

“-was not telling you soon enough.”

Baekhyun stands up slowly and takes the stranger’s hand as he walks off the step.

As the stranger makes his way out, Baekhyun can’t help himself to look at the picture he left. On it is a young, fair complexioned boy with dark messy hair and the words Kyungsoo 1995 written on top of it in black marker. Beside the boy is a darker looking boy with brown eyes and sandy hair, the name on his side Jongin. They look like they are in their teens on a beach somewhere long ago.

Baekhyun turns back,

But the stranger is gone.

Baekhyun turns the photo around and on it, written in brail covered by black marker are a messy range of letters.

 

I was always real, Joonmyun.

 

 

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