Busan Boys

(Tomorrow)

Baby there’s no, no tomorrow
I’m stopped still from that time, that place
it’s the last, lingering moment
although for you, it was just a passing day.

Tomorrow – Tablo ft Taeyang -

When the sun coatees his pale skin, his skinny body that he loves to wrap with his height, so slender and slim that he can easily touch the bones beneath it, feel his heart beating under his hand, the sweet essence of him drowning his sense, mixed with the monochrome fall, red and ochre and brown crisping outside, he knows that the moment is now.

Seunghoon has been planning to confess since receiving the offer; a once in a lifetime chance to work for the Song emporium, to work for the best chemistry industry, the one with the capacity to change this world and he wants and needs to try and make a difference there, but he hasn’t find the courage, the valor to cut his tides that laced to him so tight, to break his heart and his promises, to set him free and bleeding, wounds that he won't be able to heal, a fissure that will always stand there, irreparable, irrevocable as well, because he has to go, he has to do it, even if it means killing himself, not trying would be worse in the end.

He doesn't want to, he loves him so much, all of him, every little part; his intelligent eyes, always bright, always looking for a new challenge; his pouty lips, like marshmallow, smiling adorably, kissing him in ways that make him forget his name; his hands that knows him so well, all the corners of his frame, always holding him, fingers playing with strings; the taste of his skin, the smell of his hair. He loves him more than his life; because he has chosen to be with him, not because they were mean to be.

He has found him under the rain and under the rain he had spoken the truth to him, putting into words his unsure feelings, trembling under a fall that was painting the sky with his name on the stars. And under the rain he will leave, drops that will wash his feels, falling over him on this day and forever.

It’s not for him only that he is going; it’s for his sisters, for this boy that has taught him how to laugh freely, how to be loved; for all these people that he doesn't know but that needs what he has to offer. He can change things, he believe it, he knows he will and then, Seungyoon will know it too, that he has done it thinking of him, that he has done something wonderful.

He has tears falling from his eyes and he kisses them, drinking his sadness, mixing it with his own one, but when the sun is high he leaves him behind, carrying dreams and grieving for his love that he has murdered. But sorrows are made of air and, with time, he thinks, eyes water down, they will be fine. Tomorrow, he promises, he will smile, so today he can mourn what he has lost, these beats that have stopped.

“I love you so much, so, so much, Seungyoon” he whispers to the wind and prays for him to hear it, a last good bye that he hopes it will turn into “I’ll see you soon”. But he knows that Seungyoon is proud, that he won’t come to visit, that if he breaks the tie they won’t meet again. And, even then, he does what he needs to do, what his heart doesn't understand but his mind tells him that he is right, that he has to. It’s not for him that he is going to do it after all, it’s for all the people he cares and loves; it’s for Kang Seungyoon, so no one else has to experiment what he had suffered what he endured on his own.

The train leaves without a trace of him and his chest feels heavy, carrying the weight of his crimes, the sins he has committed, a heart that still beats under his flesh, singing with his voice all the songs he has ever wrote, the distant chords of his guitar captured on its cage, dying just like him, silencing his chest, muttering the meaning under his thumbs; but his name is carved on his core, right on the middle of it and his life belongs to him entirely, solely, even with all the kilometers that separate them now, it will always be like this.

Once the mark is done, there is no way out and his own pumps in between his shoulder blades as if alive, whipping and whining for a lost that he can’t replace, a lost that will be forever a hole in his chest, bleeding until, a pain with no end unless he can see him again.

The rain yields to the snow that falls over the city, like smoke, melting over him, leaving a trail of ice that feels like his hands reaching him. A new place, a new beginning, but Seungyoon is all he can think about; he breaths in and, with it, he feels him in too, a touch of his taste on his lungs; and the fact that they were together lives inside his heart, broken glass and broken memories that he walks over, just to remember the form of his dreams and the sound of his voice.

He has thought that maybe with time this feeling will hush, disappearing eventually, until it will be just a fading recollections of him, of them; but it doesn't whiter nor shrivels, it stays on his skin like a tattoo, evergreen, painful. Even after a year and then, two and three, it’s still there, covering his flesh with a purple that doesn't vanish away, remaining the same as when he first got it, so many days ago; when he knew how to be happy, how to smile without a reason, laughing just because he was there, beside him, holding his hands and making his heart scream in content, in a delight that couldn't been explained. But he is all alone now, with no music or cameras clicks surrounding; the silence of a lonely house, lonely and empty and cold; and the memories of him fall over his mind like pouring volley and he cries tonight only so he can sleep well, with feelings long captured, entitled to his heart where they belong and from where they aren't to go away. He dreams of him and is then, when he sees him under his eyelid, bright and happy and smiling, when the wound aches again, agonizing, scorching and burning him alive, igniting from his nape to take him down with a pain that never leaves his side, a shadow made of flames that sticks into him like nothing else.

Time has frozen for him, a combination of past and future and a present that dies with every second passed; no expectations, no illusion, no more Seungyoon to make his heart beats. Tomorrow is just another day, another succession of grey and nothingness; another empty spot on the calendar where nothing but numbers grow, no special dates or celebration, just like him, it's all blanked, a hollow, another thorn prickling his chest, daggers ripping him open, blazes that dances over his breath, just waiting for the right moment, but it has been five years and they are still hanging there, over his head and he thinks that maybe, tomorrow, he will be free.

But tomorrow comes and tomorrow leaves and everything dawdles the same way, like an old song on repeat, nothing has ever changed since he has left him, and time is just futile, pointless, inane. But then he meets him, the right person, the right name and, slowly, things began to shuffle again.

He falls in love with dancing once more, moving to the rhythm of Mino’s rap, popping and jumping and he lets the frenzy takes over him, the electric waves that shake him, that make him feel alive for a minute before killing him again, the overwhelming feeling of missing him falling over him like a storm on the dessert. But it’s enough to keep him going, to keep his head where it has to stay. Life is getting better, the pain is retracting, the vivid purple, but, still lingers over the pale surface and he thinks that maybe he should change it; the colors that are wrong, that old bite that means the world but that is a constant reminder of what he has let go, like the stars on the sky that point back home.

Nobody knows and nobody notices, but he has covered with his name his skin, blue ink and celestial bodies, an astronomic way to hallow what he had has, what he represents in his life; the shine that has been blown away, dissipating until disappear. But he has felt it, the tug on his body that lace him up to Seungyoon, no matter what, no matter where. It’s not the mark – it’s not only it, he thinks, awake late at night, not able to sleep without his bony arms holding him, his hair a mess he wants so much to kiss, the faint smell of rain that is sorely him – but his own heart that doesn’t belong here where it beats. It’s him, it’s about how he misses him, just like oxygen, his presence is what keeps him sane, the recollections of draws and imagines, pictures that are only on his mind and others that are hanging on the dark. It’s the way he gleams and, with him, all that is around; how he makes him feel, like chasing a dream, trying to become better, making wishes upon stars that are his eyes staring at him, wondering if his love would never end. But the answer is no; this love is eternal, like wind blowing over it, spreading it until, maybe, it will reach him again, whispering through space and time the worlds that he wants to tell him; that he is all he wants.

It’s been so long, and nights can be so forlorn, and misery loves company but nothing compares to Seungyoon, not his new friends, not his new, flaming job for which he has left all, nothing can warm his bed or bring back the sparkles to his eyes. He already knew it, but still, he has exploded the bubble, stepping outside a love with no borders, bigger than the sky just to do what he is doing, so he has no right to complain but to work harder, to make his dreams come true, to believe that, then, Seungyoon will smile thinking that he has done something grand; that maybe he has done it for him, and he will be proud of the man he once loved and that he once had.

Five years has taken to convince the board of the Song's, but he has done it, he has succeed achieving his goals, the leitmotiv after the shamed pieces of heart, splattered in red and suffering and pain. But today it’s the day he has been waiting for, the reason why he is still alive, so he wears his best suit and smiles at the pale reflex on the mirror that tells him how he truly feels. It’s not satisfaction but sadness, an ocean that waves over him, throwing him to the deepest of the sea, a place where no light can bright, where all expectations come to end. Because today all his purposes will be over. Tomorrow will come but he won’t be by his side; tomorrow will be a repetition of yesterday.

He isn't expecting the yank on his back, the pain that spread like venom, or to shutter his name under his breath when he spots him in the multitude of heads and voices and cameras; he sees him truly, the same way it has always done, slim and wonderful, smiling brightly to someone, with eyes that gleam with sparks of winsome and cleverness, his hair that has been died black again, and the aching is just as bad as if had been the day he left, as if time didn't’t really passed and they were the same as well. But then, when his eyes meets his for a fraction of a second, the air stays still, all the words die and he is the only one he can see, and his legs move, pushing away people who he doesn't’t know and about he doesn't’t care, just walking straight to reach him, his dream that is now a reality in front of his gaze. But he blinks to the blurry sea of faces and lets the fog clear out, the dizzy feeling that makes his head spins, and he isn't there anymore, but the itch is real, lingering on this place that holds his name and so he waits until he will see him again.

The mark on his back burns, as if fire lived there, under his skin, and it beats at the same pace as Seungyoon’s heart, steady, encompassed and he smiles at the familiarity of it, grazing it as if sacred, that bond that still links them both, that bond that he feels it too. And when tomorrow comes he will know that his love is still true.