Putting it mildly, he’s not having a great day. Starting with a fight with his girlfriend, over something so pointless and stupid that it’s still leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, having to cancel his card for fraud and finally a meeting with an investor. He could really have done without the last one, so out of his depth that he was surprised no one called his bluff. Come 3pm, he’d shut himself in his in office, sinking onto his leather sofa with a glass of gin in one hand. The liquor slowly helps his mind to unwind and gradually the throbbing in his temples starts to ease off.

 

Even as a kid, he could never let an argument lie. Hell, he never even used to argue until he met Eun Hee, who told him it was healthier not to keep things bottled up. But he’s not so sure, not so sure that the pure anxiety he feels after an argument is all that healthy for him. This whole day has felt like ice cold hands have been wrapped around his stomach and he hates it. Hates that they can’t just be passive aggressive and ignore things. Slipping his phone out of his pocket, he knows the only way to get rid of how he’s feeling is to bite the bullet and talk to her.

 

She answers on the fourth ring, and every second she takes to answer feels like a minute to him.

 

“I’m sorry about this morning.” He says, before she even has a chance to say hello. Response comes in the form of a sigh, and seconds pass before she speaks. Seunghyun can hear her tugging her hand through her hair.

 

“You already apologised like, 5 times, Seunghyun.” Exasperation bleeds through her voice. “We’ve talked about this, it was just a small argument. It’s fine.”

 

A small smile spreads over his face and, for the first time in hours, he feels his body relax.

 

“I know, I just wanted to make sure that we’re still ok.”

 

“We’re fine, Seunghyun. I need to get back to work now, I’ll see you later.” She says softly, and Seunghyun just about manages to mumble “mhm” before she hangs up. By force of habit, he reaches his hand into his left pocket, placing his fingers around the small box in it. He bought an engagement ring a few weeks ago and, clichéd as it is, has started carrying it around with him wherever he goes, terrified he might lose it if he doesn’t. Only his mum knows, and not by choice. It took one look at his face for her to work out that something was up (one look followed by a ribcrushing hug and tears in her eyes).

 

It’s a natural progression, Seunghyun keeps telling himself. They get married, they have very attractive children and eventually move out to the countryside to live a boring and domestic life. But memories of his parents divorce, of the sleepless nights and arguments that would shake the house, always resurface in the end and stop him in his tracks.

 

The ice in his drink has melted into the gin and he’s fighting to stay awake, now. Eyes slowly closing and drowsiness taking a hold of his body, but he has so much more work to do before he can take a nap. In moments like these Seunghyun always wonders what went wrong, how did get here from an art history degree; writing paperwork and presentations and a mind filled with details and details and details. Work your way up, everyone says. Work and work until one day you’re at the top, and you can do whatever the hell it is you want to do. He thinks he lost sight of what he wants to do a long time ago, however.

 

Inevitably, he ends up falling asleep, waking up 2 hours later disorientated and foggy and hating the world more than ever. There’s a split second where he thinks about staying late to finish the pile of paperwork that isn’t going anywhere, but before he can even finish that thought process he’s got his bag in his hand and is out of the door.

 

Arriving home after the journey from hell on the tube, he’s be greeted by his girlfriend’s parents.Warmth and the sound of laughter floods into the hallway as he opens the front door, followed seconds later by Eun Hee’s mother. An impossibly elegant, stick thin woman who, despite her friendly advances, never fails to make him feel inadequate. He gets on much better with her father, a man who likes a drink just as much as he does. Many family events he’s been dragged along to have ended with him and the older man drunk in a corner, ing about the other guests until either Eun Hee or her mother drags them apart.

 

He becomes a blank canvas around them, not sure if they like the real Seunghyun or the Seunghyun they want their daughter to be with, the man they paint on to him, and slips this mask on as he walks into the kitchen. Leaning in for a kiss, Eun Hee whispers;

 

“I had no idea you’d be this late.”

 

There’s a tight smile plastered on her face and the strength of her perfume makes his eyes wince. He barely manages to mumble an apology before being dragged into her father’s arms. 

 

The wine and the conversation are both flowing, and Seunghyun finds his hand drifting closer and closer towards his left pocket. If he doesn’t do it tonight, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get the courage to again. So it’s during a lull in the conversation that he finally makes up his mind, clearing his throat and gripping his fingers around the tiny black box.

 

“Eun Hee.” He says, voice shaky and all moisture having left his mouth. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while now and, I mean, if it’s ok with your parents-“

 

Eun Hee’s eyes flit down towards the box, barely visible between his shaking hands, and she interrupts him.

 

“Maybe we should talk about this later, yeah?” She says, gentlya. And it feels like the clocks have stopped, like his heart has stopped beating and his lungs have stopped working.

 

“Yeah, of course.” He manages to get out.

 

Her parents leave shortly after, and Seunghyun barely remembers saying goodbye to them. All he can hear is his own heartbeat, beating so slow and irregularly that he’s considered calling an ambulance. Sitting on the sofa opposite him, legs crossed and fingers wrapped around an empty wine glass is Eun Hee, and Seunghyun briefly wonders how she’s managing to look so collected whilst he feels like the weight of the world is caving in on him.

 

“Do you really think we’re ready for that?” She finally says. “That” is left unexplained, but they both know what it means. “We’re both so busy, and, as close as we are and you know how much I like you, you can’t really think that our relationship is ready for this?”

 

He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to articulate anything because, if he’s honest, his mind has gone blank. There’s a ringing in his ears and he could swear it’s getting louder and louder. Faint sounds from other flats capture his attention and he lets them, because if he doesn’t think about something else right now he’s going to start crying.

 

What a ty day.

 

 

 

 

 

He didn’t think it was possible, but the next few weeks get progressively worse. On the following Tuesday he loses his job, lack of passion, they said. You could ask him about it in ten years and he likely still wouldn’t understand what went wrong.

 

Every night he lies next to his girlfriend, a silk nightdress accentuating all the right parts and moonlight dancing off her curves. But all he can think about is what she said, how she doesn’t think their relationship is ready for that. And he’s probably overreacting (he has a habit of doing that) and paying too much attention to the irrational thoughts in his head, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this alone. The kind of alone where you can feel it in your stomach.

 

It’s after a few days of wallowing in self pity that Jiyong messages him. 

 

“I need to talk to you.” Is all the message says. Seunghyun closes the screen, ignoring it. Half tempted to throw his iPhone against the wall, he snuggles deeper into his blankets. But Jiyong is persistent, and his phone starts to ring. He closes his eyes, hoping that if he ignores it the younger man will take the hint. That’s not the case.

 

“I went to your office, they said you didn’t work there anymore? So I’m coming over. I need to talk to you.” The next message reads. Seunghyun swears out loud, his voice echoing around the empty house. In the next few minutes he’s managed to have a shower and shave, cutting himself several times in the process, but the grease is out of his hair and at least he looks semi acceptable.

 

Short knocks on his front door get him out of the bathroom, dabbing tissue on his cheek as he walks through the flat. He turns the knob and goes to open the door, but Jiyong pushes past it with all the strength of a gale force wind. Hair in a furious mess and wild eyes, Jiyong stands opposite him breathing heavily.

 

“Did you know?” Jiyong asks, and despite the current state of shock his body is in Seunghyun doesn’t miss the undertone of desperation in his voice.

 

“Know what?” Seunghyun finally asks.

 

“That Soo Hyuk was ing his ex-boyfriend behind my back.” 

 

 

 

 

After practically ing a glass of wine into the younger man’s hands, Seunghyun sits opposite him on the sofa. The other’s hands tug at his hair so violently that Seunghyun is worried that clumps might start to fall to the floor.

 

“I didn’t know.” He says. “I mean, I had my suspicions. But I didn’t know, I promise.”

 

Jiyong purses his lips in response. The anger that greeted Seunghyun has faded now, and Jiyong just looks defeated. With his shoulders slumped over his tiny frame, he looks entirely dejected as he takes another sip of wine.

 

“I should have said something to him, probably. But weren’t you kind of doing the same thing, with your…your…job?” He says, starting to falter as he finishes his question. Jiyong’s eyes flash.

 

“That’s different! I needed the money, and I didn’t even sleep with any of them. It was always just dinner.”

 

“Didn’t seem like you just wanted to take me for dinner.” Seunghyun says before he can stop himself (it’s like he has a death wish sometimes).

 

“Don’t.” Jiyong growls. Seunghyun mutters a sorry, just before a great heaving sob takes over Jiyong’s body. “I didn’t need this right now, Christ. I just got kicked out of my flat, I can’t afford anywhere else and I’ll be ed if I’m going to live with Soo Hyuk.” He says through tears. High heels click on the wooden floor as Eun Hee lets herself into the flat, several bags in hand. One look at Jiyong and she’s stopped in her tracks, eyes flashing to Seunghyun for an explanation. He doesn’t know where to begin.

 

She was always much better at comforting people. During their time at University, she would be there with a hug and a Netflix subscription, ready for him every time life got a bit too much (which was a lot of times). He watches her wrap her arms around Jiyong, pulling him in closer like she used to do with him. Rubbing her hand up and down Jiyong’s shaking back, she waits until his sobs have subsided to eventually speak.

 

“Soo Hyuk is an arsehole, but listen, we have a spare room. I hate to think of you struggling, so why not stay with us until you get back on your feet?” She says, brushing her hands along his cheek to wipe away tears.

 

“What?” Jiyong and Seunghyun say in unison. She looks up at him, but all he can offer is a frown. They were supposed to be working through things together, not adopting a stray ing dog.

 

“I can’t let you do that.” Jiyong says, looking between Seunghyun and his girlfriend.

 

“What, you need the room for all the blank canvases you never got round to painting?” She says, looking at Seunghyun pointedly. “It’s fine, Jiyong. I insist actually.”