ten  of twelve

potentially triggering content

Even after almost four years, Yifan hasn’t changed. His hair might have been in another color, he might have had shed some weight off his bones and the glasses he currently wears are of a different build.

But he hasn’t changed.

Up close and personal, Junmyeon cannot say anything to him without wanting to gather herself. Yifan meets her gaze and they were in this stand still, for a moment time seemed to cease and five seconds stretched into what felt like a lifetime.

This is the third time she’s seeing him. The second time had been a week prior, and the first was two years ago in Beijing. Junmyeon had business to take care of and it’s there that she was invited to sponsor a medical symposium. Yifan was one of the speakers. Junmyeon tried so hard to stay away.

It still hurt, but time helped her understand her own intricacies and issues, time had made her realize that what she did to him was utterly self serving.

But her heart desired Yifan, desires Yifan.

She was the only person in that hall that wasn’t in the allied health profession, but she listened intently (though the topics were an alien concept to her) and pieced together fragments that she did understand.

The symposium sparked her interest in surgery, particularly in neuroscience. Maybe it was Yifan’s passion over his field of expertise that got to Junmyeon. He talked with such poised confidence and his knowledge was intriguing and simply beautiful. She missed him.

With time, Junmyeon healed and moved on from things that hurt her, but her affections never waned. Time only worsened her longing for someone who might never forgive her.

Yifan’s expression changed - surprise most evident of all. Junmyeon doesn’t say anything because his presence leaves her speechless. She breaks eye contact and thankfully her voice doesn’t come out strangled when she speaks.

Junmyeon fights the urge to stare at Yifan throughout the meeting. She needs to be perfectly professional because the board of directors monitors her every move, like vultures ready to devour her just for the probabilities of a mishap. One mistake and they can remove Junmyeon from her position. She doesn’t want that to happen, time and far too much effort have been sacrificed for the position she currently holds. They can try.

Plus, she has her ulterior motives. Breaching an unfamiliar business territory like health care and scientific research is frightening, but Junmyeon doesn’t fight her battles without preparation. She didn’t plan things on a whim. She equipped herself with more than the necessary information and made use of available technology and trends to predict the outcomes of her decision. For the first time in a long while, Junmyeon is thankful that she’s a literal genius, her intellect had been useful.

Choosing to partner with the hospital Yifan works in though, is not a a coincidence. It was Junmyeon’s bet, a bet with such important stakes on the line. She took the risk for the slimmest chance to be with Yifan again.

Like a desperate fool.

Junmyeon tries to maintain a renewed vigour in regards to life and living in general. She wants to show that she’s not the same volatile Kim Junmyeon who’d changed so drastically in less than half a decade because she fell in love with the right person at the wrong time. She tries to be a better human being.

But sometimes, she allows herself to be intimidated, then she’ll find excuses to return to her cynicism and negativity.

 Humans have certain coping mechanisms, varied ways to fight varied demons. Junmyeon may have perfected a facade to cover up old scars, but deep inside she’s still bleeding from wounds that may have never really healed.

She’s gotten real good at deluding herself.

Board meetings are elaborate presentations and endless cups of bland coffee. Junmyeon tries to keep a neutral expression, eyes firmly upon the lady who is pointing at multicolored bar graphs projected on the screen.

Junmyeon doesn’t need to listen, she’s studied this deal hard enough and she knows it like the back of her hand. Every possible outcome mapped, every possible drawback predicted, every little thing that could go wrong already has a solution planned. To Junmyeon, this deal is a personal battle, a culmination of the very intellect she was cursed with.

An hour, and another…time stretches and it’s suffocating her. She wonders if Yifan’s mind is as calm as the expression on his face or if he’s sitting through this tedious meeting recalling everything that had happened between them a few years back.

Junmyeon wonders if he still wanted to be in her presence, despite everything that’s been said and done. After what she did to him.

Finally, the meeting finishes. Junmyeon stands up and shakes hands with people that likely do not have very good impressions of her. They’re old business people, built their empires from old money and questionable methods and they all tend to gravitate to the worst of preconceived notions. Junmyeon doesn’t blame them. She’s barely thirty years old, a naive child in a game played with dirty schemes by professional liars. They are free to believe in their preconceived notions and Junmyeon will be very happy to prove them wrong.

The last person exits the boardroom. And then it’s just them, just Yifan and Junmyeon and four years of piled up emotions and words left unsaid.

“Yifan.”

Junmyeon breathes and her perfected persona melts off her entire being. Suddenly, she’s twenty-three again, sad, frightened and helplessly in love with a person she didn’t deserve.

Yifan returns her gaze, his expression belies nothing of what’s on his mind.

“Can we talk?”

Her voice breaks, it’s pathetic that she can hear the vulnerabilities she tried so hard to hide.

“I heard you wanted to fund my research,” he cuts her off. His tone professional and impersonal. It’s like talking to a familiar stranger. “That’s great, I’d appreciate that a lot. I’m head of neurosurgery, that’s why they sent me here. I’m supposed to woo you in, get them the billions they want – I really shouldn’t have said anything, but you wanted to talk.”

Junmyeon’s chest constricts and it’s painful. She deserves it.

“Yifan it’s not about – “

“If we’re not going to talk about business then what’s there to talk about?”

Us.

Of what I did.

And that I love you so, so much.

I’m sorry.

“You don’t need to explain anything. I’ve heard enough and I’ve seen enough. Let’s not waste our time by going through things that’s better left in the past.” There’s a minute change in Yifan’s expression when he stared her down. There’s a mocking smirk as he quietly assessed Junmyeon’s tailored outfit, a drastic change from her cheap shirts and ratty jeans. Unlike then, Junmyeon now wears clothes worth thousands upon thousands of dollars, money that could have fed a family for a whole year.

She wouldn’t blame him, she doesn’t look at herself in the mirror too.

His dismissal is ice cold. But then again, what can she expect from someone who usedto love her? Yifan is right, they are a thing of the past.

And it hurts.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry, and I’ll say sorry for as long as it takes, until you forgive me.” She tells him this. It’s selfish to demand forgiveness but Junmyeon’s soul needs it. She’s selfish, always has been.

Yifan doesn’t say anything for a long minute.

 “I’ve forgiven you a long, long time ago. I’m too tired Junmyeon. I don’t want to be in pain. I’m done hurting.”

And there it is. When Yifan leaves, Junmyeon has to sit down and breathe.

Among other things, Yifan walking away from her life, was and is always a possibility. Junmyeon didn’t like dwelling on it, to soften the eventual effects of rejection. Before it came to this, there’s always this lingering desire that after everything, they’ll still have another chance. It gave Junmyeon hope - and in this situation hope is a dangerous thing.

Watching Yifan exit the room without another glance lent such a jarring permanency to it all; it’s as if Junmyeon already lost her battle without the chance to actually fight for it.

It’s ironic how the forgiveness she thought she needed was a metaphorical blow to her face. I’ve forgiven you, but I’ve had enough.

Maybe this was it after all.

Junmyeon laughs, throws her head back a bit because she doesn’t want to ruin her mascara with the tears that are slowly pooling at her eyes.

In the end, Wu Yifan is a hard earned lesson.

Because you don’t hurt the people you claim to love, Junmyeon.

~*~

Green Meadows is as ancient as the day Junmyeon first laid eyes upon it. The edifice is a monument to the past, a misplaced gem in a backdrop of lead, chrome and lifelessness.

Junmyeon loves the place. It holds some of her fondest memories and for once, she actually fought for something she wanted. Green Meadows is a testament, and she is glad that she saved it from her own father’s greed.

Nurse Zhang Yixing is still youthful, bright-eyed and eager to help. Junmyeon signs her name on the volunteer’s form and Yixing gives her a smile so bright as if they haven’t seen each other in so long.

The place hasn’t changed. It still has its familiar sickly, pastel yellow walls and pristine tiled floor.

It’s the people that changed. Yixing tells her that the old couple who renewed their vows almost four years ago, have passed away. Some of her favorite children have succumbed to their illness.

It’s sad in ways she couldn’t elaborate. But life goes on.

Junmyeon wanders through the halls, and she sees her younger self, curious and fumbling and unknowingly enamored with then medical student Yifan, whose mint green scrubs and tired visage affected Junmyeon in ways she never expected.

It all feels like a lifetime had passed.

She enters a children’s play ward where curious young people direct their sights at her. She smiles, greets the children amicably and sits down to read for them. She remembers the first time, where she panicked and snapped at Zhang Yixing for inadvertently subjecting her to the same situation.

It all happened a lifetime ago. So much has changed, but for Junmyeon this is familiar.

It gave her existence a purpose.

The last few years weren’t solely dedicated to business concepts and economic theories. Junmyeon hadn’t spent her days wasting away inside the lecture halls of Trinity College.

She traveled to distract herself and at the same time find a purpose to her existence.

So she flew across the world, sprinting from one continent to the next and volunteering in places where she could. Junmyeon spent a good part of her billions on people who needed food, water and shelter, on children who desired education, and on women in need of medical attention.

It made her feel good about herself, made her feel less useless. It gave her purpose, a vindication for her wrongdoings.

Junmyeon continues to read.

The children around her don’t look too well but their tiny grins and bright laughter are enough to placate the unrest in Junmyeon’s heart.

And even if Yifan stepped away from her life, she is grateful to him. He opened doors for her. Wu Yifan taught her how to be humane and compassionate in a world that seemed so cruel.

She will always be thankful for that.

~*~

By fate or inadvertently, they meet again.

Two weeks after the board meeting and her initial talk with Yifan, Junmyeon sees him again. He still looks tired, but not nearly as emaciated than the first time.

Business talks between the hospital and Kim Industries are still ongoing. There’s still a last phase, which entails more paperwork and kissing, but in the meantime both organizations look at a  possible partnership to build branched hospices across the country.

Junmyeon didn’t think she’d see Yifan again. The part of the deal with his involvement is done: a specialty hospital that would eventually double as a research center for the Neurological Sciences, dedicated to treating and caring for people with diseases inflicting the central nervous system.

It’s the lovechild of Yifan’s passion and intellect.

Junmyeon was nothing short of fascinated when she’d read his dissertation. It was all sorts of brilliant and Junmyeon was, and is still so proud of him.  No wonder he is Chief of Neurosurgery three years into formal practice.

Medicine is art, Yifan is a great artist and Junmyeon is an connoisseur willing to shell out millions to show his craft to the universe.

The Fourth time.

There’s a genial smile on Yifan’s lips. They’re standing across each other on the grassy courtyard of an old building that Junmyeon plans to buy and renovate. It will be a hospice. The environment is conducive to such efforts since it is away from the noise and pollution of the city.

Amongst other things, the hospices will be Junmyeon’s personal mission, a rebellion of sorts. Normally, her father would have objected to such nonsensical goals. It isn’t exactly lucrative, money lost could potentially never be gained back. Junmyeon doesn’t care and she has superimposed her authority on the board. Half of the businessmen doesn’t want to go through with it, and the other half supports Junmyeon in her decision because they’re under the impression that it will be good PR.

Typical.

Earlier, Junmyeon had allowed her subordinates to finalize the paperwork, allowing her to see the property for herself.

Fast forward, here they are.

Yifan is in jeans and a black jumper over a collared shirt. He looks considerably younger and he doesn’t exude an intimidating aura as opposed to when he’s clad in doctor’s white.

Like the Yifan of four years ago.

Junmyeon mildly panics, but doesn’t let it show.

“There’s an audiovisual room in the west wing.” is what Yifan tells her. “You want to go see it?”

Junmyeon finds herself nodding almost dumbly. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Yifan echoes.

The sudden character change is astounding, like a rug pulled from under her. Junmyeon composes herself and tries not to get too affected. Try being the keyword. She’s missed Yifan so much and his presence makes it hard for her to keep her mask of indifference intact. She wants to ask him so many questions.

How are you?

Are you happy?

Have you met better people?

I miss you.

In the end, Junmyeon settles for: “Doctor Wu, what are you doing here?”

Yifan does not gift her with an answer. They slowly traverse the courtyard to the western part of the compound. Their surroundings are peaceful.

“The truth is that my bosses sent me here.” Yifan finally says as soon as they reach the said room. Junmyeon looks away and instead stares at the hallway which is devoid of life. “Because they’re hoping to really go through with that partnership with Kim Industries. They believe they will gain millions out of it.”

“Oh.”

Junmyeon didn’t expect the candor but she appreciates it anyway.

She’s a juvenile in her field but she knows how greedy businessmen think.

“Were they planning to fake the sincerity?” Junmyeon asks. Yifan nods. “Guess so.”

Yifan pushes a pair of heavy doors open and then they are greeted by dust motes suspended in long panes of sunshine which cut through half parted curtains. The room is large and there is an elevated portion that seemed like a stage. On top of the stage is an old piano covered in dust.

“Are you familiar with this place?” Junmyeon inquires.

Yifan nods. “This compound was a music academy.” He approaches the piano and silently lifts the lid. “After my mother’s cancer diagnosis and before her stay at the hospice, she quit the orchestra and held cello lessons here. I admit she must have terrorized her students at one point. She was fierce.”

Junmyeon smiles, “I think she was a great teacher.”

“She was.”

Yifan sits before the piano and runs long fingers upon the keys, jangling the unused instrument into life. Then he plays and his playing is still controlled - perfect in a way that it seemed like he has the entirety of the sheet music embedded into his mind.

It brought back unprecedented memories.

After a while, Yifan says. “My bosses did send me here, but to tell you the truth, I wanted to see you too.”

The statement subjects both into considerable silence. Junmyeon does not know what to reply to that nor does she want to address the irrational hope that came back to life and resurfaced within her.

Eventually Junmyeon manages to wake up from her daze. “Why?”

“I got curious.” Yifan shrugs, “Yixing told me you came back to the hospice.”

“I did. I wanted to see the children.”

Yifan takes languid steps toward her, expression ever unchanging.

“You’ve really changed.”

The statement could have pertained to so many things so Junmyeon chooses not to give a reaction. She merely returns his ambivalent smile and says, “Let’s go back. Thank you for showing me this room.”

Yifan just nods.

It’s hard to curtail old habits. When they’d been together, Junmyeon’s fingers always connected to Yifan’s, one way or another. She liked holding his hand. Now, even as they walk side by side like familiar strangers, Junmyeon still finds it hard to resist the urge.

He tells her that she’s changed. Yes she did, but not entirely.

“Your directors don’t need to send you to mediate business negotiations with my company.” Junmyeon tells him when they’ve returned to the courtyard. “If they’re thinking that I need to be bribed with fake sincerity to acquiesce, then they’re wasting their time. If they have the guts to pull through with it, if they’re convinced that their organization will do well. By all means, they can send actual representatives. Then, we will see.”

Junmyeon is about to step forward when Yifan grabs her by the forearm and gently tugs her towards him. “I am their representative.” Yifan says.

“You don’t have to do this, Yifan. I did terrible things and if my presence is unwarranted, I’d rather you stay away from all this and focus on things that you want to do.” Junmyeon says, “I believe in your hospital, it’s one of the best in this continent. Your directors must have been thinking that I am naive. But the thing is, they don’t need to play their schemes on me. I know how their mind works.”

“No, I really did want to see you.” Yifan tells her. His expression belies nothing of his motives.

Two weeks ago, Yifan finally walked out of her life and Junmyeon is slowly coming to terms with it. And then here he goes with his vague smiles and vaguer intentions and giving Junmyeon irrational hope. It’s unfair how easy it is for her to succumb.

She sighs, “I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

“I never said that.” Yifan says, chuckling. “I am tired, yes. But I realized that what happened between us, is a thing of the past. We’re older now, we’ve changed. We’re not the same people anymore.”

Junmyeon felt time pass by so slowly. The last few years seemed to stretch into an eternity, like a dark tunnel that didn’t seem to have an exit. Hearing Yifan say these words, Junmyeon wanted to ask if he felt the years too. Or if he conveniently forgot her the moment he had his chance, the moment she walked away.

“Yes.” Junmyeon says. “We’ve changed.”

But, I love you still.

“We should move on.”

It will take a long, long time for Junmyeon to move on. Move on, it is an abstract idea. How does she move on from something that was never fully established, how does one move on from essentially nothing?

But Junmyeon is ever pathetic and endlessly hopeful. She’ll take what she can get.

“I’ll try.” She says. “I think it will be hard to forget the things I did to you, to us.”

Yifan averted his gaze, and when he said “Don’t be too hard on yourself.” it was almost a whisper. They share another quiet moment, “It wasn’t just you. Maybe it was me, maybe I drove you away.”

“Yifan -”

“Let’s not talk about it anymore.” Yifan’s smile is still ambivalent. A long time ago, Junmyeon used to be able to read every minute change on that expression and now it’s as if he’s become another stranger in a sea of countless strangers.

It’s a tragedy and if Junmyeon’s heart isn’t already broken in too many pieces, this fact could potential end her.

Junmyeon inhales, “If this is what you want, alright. By now, your directors are aware that I have my sights on various properties here and across Southeast Asia. I plan to build branched hospices and organize volunteer work as much as I can. If they really want to gain that much money, they’ll have to lose millions before relatively experiencing growth. For now you should get this message across, that this project isn’t exactly a money-making scheme.”

“Volunteer work?” Yifan asks.

“Medical missions, community immersions, teaching outreaches and all other help possible within my capabilities. I got myself involved with UNICEF and W.H.O, couldn’t exactly shake off the habit.” She doesn’t tell him that she donated 1.2 billion US dollars worth of humanitarian aid for children in one continent alone. School across South Africa and Southeast Asia, shelters for women in developing countries, hospitals and disaster relief aid across the pacific rim.

And these were all done in complete anonymity, through countless third parties that didn’t connect to Junmyeon nor to the Kim family name.

An expression akin to relief, crosses Yifan’s face. For once, his ambivalent smile does not seem so vague.

“You’ve changed.” He tells her, “You’ve changed.”

Junmyeon wants to know: in what way.

She looks away and answers, “I tried.”

And she is still trying.

~*~

Byun Baekhyun returns to South Korea after fourteen years. Junmyeon picks him up at Incheon International Airport and even if he claims to say that half of his brain had already shut down, he does not fail to scoff at the vehicle Junmyeon chose to drive him in.

“Really,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes, “A ing Bond car? What an egregious display.”

“Can’t I get a damn greeting?”

Baekhyun pitches forward and gathers Junmyeon into a familiar embrace.

When they part, Junmyeon laughs. She dangles the keys to her silver Aston Martin in front of Baekhyun’s haggard face. “Wanna drive or would you have preferred the lowkey ones, say an Audi, or the Ferrari.”

“Your addiction to luxury vehicles is beyond me. How can you call a Ferrari, lowkey?” Baekhyun says, “Bought a yacht recently or what?”

“I believe the old man’s yacht was finally delivered to his dock in New York. Other than that, I haven’t made any purchases.” Junmyeon shrugs, “What the hell am I gonna do with a yacht?”

Junmyeon will not say that she’s a frugal person. She does spend her money on material things. Junmyeon doesn’t like to call it an addiction, as Baekhyun would say. It’s a penchant. For others, it’s jewelry made from stones of the highest value, bags worth millions of dollars, or Haute couture from designer brands that littered the streets of Paris but for Junmyeon, it is automobiles. Junmyeon is oddly fixated to luxury vehicles. She picks up her Aston Martins, Bugattis, Maybachs and others of significance, annually since the year she learned how to drive.

That, and real estate. A dozen flats and mansions scattered in Asia and Europe, a villa or two in both Italy and France and a private island resort amongst others. But to put things into perspective, most of her wealth go into charity, since she has so much money she doesn’t even know where to spend it anymore.

Junmyeon doesn’t exactly associate with the kind of crowd her socialite mother belongs in. She finds the children of old and new money, alike in their ostentatious displays of wealth and overwhelming competition to be the greatest. To simply mingle in their presence drives her half insane. That, coupled with the fact that she cannot exactly discuss things of relevance with such people because they’d rather talk about designers or what’s new from next season or that this property was bought by god-knows-who for crazy amounts of cash and billions worth of sophisticated, toned down bragging rights.

Spending most of her childhood in Europe and her teenage years in MIT had honed her capability to blend into almost all sorts of crowd. She was born rich, with so much money on her immediate disposal but her upbringing didn't expose her to what she could buy with all her money. Her wealth didn't blind her from the fact that a lot of people are still dying from starvation. A fact that most of the elite in the upper circles choose to ignore.

But then again, the crazy rich will spend their money and there’s no force in this universe that could stop them.

Junmyeon knew of course, but depression and anxiety crippled her in her early twenties that she cannot exactly categorize herself as a humanitarian of any sort. She was too busy wasting away. Depression is a powerful opponent and if it weren’t for Yifan, she would have probably succumbed a long, long time ago.

Yes, money is great but it can’t buy everything, not in Junmyeon’s case.

“I think I’m gonna get blue balls just by sitting in this car.” Baekhyun comments as they get into the vehicle.

“Do you want it?” Junmyeon asks as if she’s offering a piece of chocolate.

Baekhyun almost chokes. “I’m not even gonna ask if you’re serious because I’m pretty sure you are.”

Junmyeon shrugs, “I think of buying a Rolls but I don’t think I’m old enough to be driven around in those antiques since I’m not royalty or particularly, Queen Elizabeth.”

Baekhyun stares ahead, still chuckling at his best friend’s casual candor. “Do you even realize just how ing wealthy you are?”

Junmyeon eases into the main road, slightly flooring the expensive vehicle because she can afford to. “I try not to think of it.”

“Odd, with a net worth of 14B I’m not sure if I can sleep soundly. And to think that you were dead drunk and crying in my flat a few months ago.”

“Don’t believe the articles. They’re all bull.” Junmyeon says, “My inheritance is enough for me to live comfortably…and was I seriously crying? You’ve got to be ing kidding.”

“Says a person who wants to give her best friend a ing Bond car for s and giggles. And yes sis, you were. I have receipts. ”

Junmyeon drives them into the business district where people don’t even blink at the sight of a clearly expensive sports car since everyone is in an expensive sports car. In the center of the place is an eighty story building and the tallest in the vicinity. It’s an apartment tower recently acquired by KMI as a part of a series of acquisitions for the ever growing real estate sector of the conglomerate. Junmyeon occupies the penthouse - a four thousand square foot apartment with four bedrooms and a view that inspires.

“Hey, if you don’t want the car now, I’m just gonna have it delivered in time for your birthday and whatever.” She says, parking the vehicle and disembarking. Baekhyun soon follows and he puts his hands together, closes his eyes and starts murmuring. “Dear lord, I must have done something right in my past life to deserve a best friend as rich as Kim Junmyeon. Thank you so much.”

Junmyeon laughs and tosses her keys to a young man in a red uniform. “The valet thinks that you’re crazy.”

Baekhyun stares at the imposing building, squinting at the blinding light that reflected over its chrome edifice. He’s quiet for a minute. “But all kidding aside, I really owe you this one. Thank you for giving my unemployed , a job.”

“I’m proud of you for getting yourself unemployed though. What a way to get fired; standing up to your racist boss.”

“Yeah, I loathed him.”

Junmyeon hasn’t always been this perceptive but she manages to notice the minute change of Baekhyun’s expression. He exuded such pure hatred that Baekhyun, who’s always a gentle soul behind his flamboyant personality, didn’t seem to be capable of until now.

What happened to you?

“Baek, are you okay?”

And just like that it vanishes.

“I’m quite ecstatic to have finally gotten out from that hellhole.”

Junmyeon wants to address the elephant in the room but she’d rather let it cool for a while. Baekhyun is notoriously private about his problems and tries to keep a tight wrap around his general unease but he always comes around, bursting at the seams. That’s just how he is. They’ve known each other for more than fifteen years and Baekhyun only ever had a grand total of two meltdowns in her presence.

Instead Junmyeon says, “They just lost their best architect. I’m not going to be surprised if they start losing clients too. For the record, I was thinking of signing with them for a property in Southern France and have you do the little tweaks.”

She leads them inside the building. The lobby is sparsely decorated, almost spartan in its minimalist, monochromatic decor. It’s what Junmyeon loved about it. The simplicity is such a refreshing contrast to the almost gaudy five star hotel lobbies that KMI owns by the dozen.

“What property?”

Junmyeon nods at the receptionist before they enter the lift specifically servicing the penthouse. “This gorgeous post renaissance villa with a forty hectare vineyard.”

“You meant a forty hectare vineyard with a post renaissance villa. I think you could probably tear down the structure and the price tag on that property would barely change.”

“I’m not exactly sure. I do love the villa and I think you’d adore it.”

Baekhyun produces a lifeless little chuckle. “Thank you, Myeon.”

“Baekhyun are you okay?”

Baekhyun nods, “Just a little bit tired.”

The lift finally ascends to the topmost floor and it opens directly to a brightly lit hallway that led into a pair of heavy wooden doors. Junmyeon pushes the unlocked doors open and says, “Welcome home.

Home is a sparsely decorated space dotted with furniture in tones of brown and beige. A part of the wall doubles as a floor to ceiling window that displays a wonderful city skyline.

There are two large wooden bookshelves filled with leather bound volumes pressed against the wall. The only decoration is a Warhol  between the shelves and a portrait of Junmyeon and Jongin, at the latter’s graduation. There are more books littering the cherry oak floors, and there seems to be no other entertainment appliance in the sitting room except for a shiny Steinway which proudly stands on its own platform.

Bisecting the sitting room and the kitchen is a marble breakfast counter. Contrary to the sparseness of the sitting room, the kitchen seemed aptly stocked.

“For a billionaire your place is unbelievably modest.” Baekhyun tells her.

“I like to have a wide floor space. The bedroom all have their baths, and television and other gadgets of sort are piled in that room over there.” Junmyeon points to the western part of the apartment. “And your bedroom is whichever of these two. They’re practically the same anyway.”

Baekhyun stares at the portrait of the siblings and smiles. Throughout Junmyeon’s relatively short life, there’s nothing she ever cherished more than her younger brother. For a while, it seemed like her entire being had revolved around him, and in a good way.

“Jongin finished law school? That was fast.”

Junmyeon nods, “He’s taking a one year break and then he’s probably going to Wharton for postgrad studies.”

“Business?”

“Probably. I think he’s not fully over Soojung yet so he’s trying to be everywhere all at once. The last I heard, he’s hitchhiking in Peru.”

“Is that even safe?”

“I’m sure he’s still relatively okay. He sends a lot of postcards via express mail. I keep telling him to just email me every other day but it’s been two weeks since the last one. Though a postcard from Argentina arrived yesterday so I reckon he’s probably still alive.” Junmyeon chuckles, “He needs a break. In the next few years he’s gonna have to take the reins for KMI whether he likes it or not.”

“Yeah.”

Baekhyun sighs, turns to Junmyeon and gathers her in an embrace. Junmyeon wraps both arms around her best friend and dutifully ignores the signs of a meltdown that’s about to happen. Instead, she merely holds Baekhyun and tries to be there as he steadily assesses whatever crisis he is not ready to share with her.

“Thank you for always saving my since I was nine. Thank you Myeon.”

“No problem. The Aston is there when you want to drive around. But I’ll borrow one of the drivers from the estate to show you around town, first. Now take a bath and sleep off your jet lag, we’ll talk about work tomorrow.”

The smile Baekhyun giver her is unrecognizable.

~*~

If she is being honest with herself, Junmyeon would say that she’s mostly surprised when he sees Yifan, who’s dressed in a fitted navy blue button-down tucked into a pair of plain black slacks, in a press conference for the launch of KMI’s hospice project.

Going against her publicity team, she opted out of the usual benefit galas as to appeal better to international partners. Junmyeon wants to convey the sole purpose of the project for what it is - humanitarian aid. Surprisingly, her father who’s been stagnant since the last time they talked, does not say anything at all. She was expecting scathing remarks about the audacity of her projects and that her ancestors and grandfather who built their business empire from scratch, would roll in their graves for Junmyeon’s ridiculous hypocrisies. The only philanthropy they supported was Junmyeon’s mother’s benefit assemblies. Unfortunately for them, Junmyeon does not believe in the benefit part at all.

After their conversation two weeks ago, the directors from Sun Medical Center, the premier hospital Yifan works at, immediately wanted to convene with her. They were interested on partnering with KMI despite the fact that Junmyeon had made it impossibly clear that they would gain almost nothing from said partnership. The directors merely nodded, eyes glistening with poorly concealed ulterior motives. Junmyeon shrugged and placed them in a shortlist of partners for the project. If they perform well enough, maybe Junmyeon will reconsider other prospects that would bring in profit.

In the present Junmyeon answers pertinent questions from press representatives from all around the globe. Camera flashes erupt every second that Junmyeon thinks she’s going to go blind any minute.

For the presscon, Junmyeon chose to hold it in the wide shaded yard of Green Meadows. The event had been simple and straightforward.

“CEO Kim, organizations from the international charity scene, see this project as a poorly concealed business venture. What do you say to this?”

“As far as I’m concerned, this project is my personal mission and this is the main reason why I am looking for organizations that would help me further my cause. This isn’t the conglomerate, this is simply Kim Junmyeon.”

“Can you please provide more details on this personal project?”

Junmyeon does not understand why these reporters never seem to read the painstakingly arranged dossiers for the sole reason that they’d avoid asking such obvious questions.

Junmyeon smiles, trying to mask her annoyance. “For the last few years, I’ve been involved with organizations from my college in the Department of Economics at Trinity, Cambridge. A lot of us joined to help provide humanitarian aid across the globe. A few months after I graduated, I got myself involved with WHO and UNICEF for various medical outreaches in South Africa. My passion stemmed from there and now that I am busy with KMI, I still want to continue what I’ve started. This project is a little different, since my team and I want to build branched hospices that would double as shelters for people in need, here but mainly throughout Southeast Asia - Philippines, Cambodia, Myanmar to name a few.”

“What about Kim Mixed Industries’ new health care sector? Is it true that KMI is funding Doctor Yifan Wu and Sun Medical Center for specialized cancer research?”

Junmyeon smiles, “Yes. As the next CEO and Chairman of KMI, we’ve decided to focus our interests in the health industry. I cannot say much about our partners’ works but yes, we’ve recently signed with Sun Medical Center and Doctor Wu. We will let everyone know of our plight three months from now after we hold our launch gala at the Embassy.

A reporter in a pale pink coat shot and arm up and Junmyeon instantly regretted choosing to listen to her question.

“What is your association to Doctor Yifan Wu? Is it true that the two of you were romantically associated before you left for Cambridge?”

Junmyeon tried not to panic but at the same moment, Yifan chose to step into the field as incognito as a pink flamingo in a flock of birds . She sips from her water bottle, throat suddenly dried up.

“Doctor Wu was a friend.” Junmyeon stares straight ahead, meeting Yifan’s neutral gaze. “We actually met here in Green Meadows, and he inspired me to set on this course.”

A unified murmur falls upon the crowd. Someone must have already pointed out Yifan standing from behind the throng of people. Junmyeon hopes she hadn’t said anything remotely clarifying her romantic association to the talented neurosurgeon.

Oh, only if they knew just how ing in love I was, I still am, with him. He’d practically changed my whole life.

Thankfully her answer seemed to placate the crowd as they typed whatever came out of into their laptops. A few more questions were answered and then the press conference comes to an end. After gorging on food and pastries prepared by the Kim family’s legendary kitchen staff lifted straight from their headquarters in the family’s Manor in Italy (where Lee Miran, Junmyeon’s mother, chose to remain for the rest of the year) the press people finally left Green Meadows.

Junmyeon wearily sat by the reception area, accompanied by ever cheerful Head nurse Zhang Yixing.

“We’re all grateful for everything you’ve done for us, not just for our patients but for everyone of the staff here.” The nurse says. “I still remember your reaction after sitting in the ward. It didn’t even seem that long ago but you’ve already helped us countless of times in a span of four years.”

Junmyeon smiles. Her headache dissipates, just a little.

“I’m glad that my existence seems to finally have a purpose.”

“Don’t say that. Even without your monetary donations you still make a lot of us happy here.”

With wide eyes, Junmyeon turns towards the nurse, “You knew?”

Yixing smiles. Junmyeon still wants to poke his dimple. “I’m head nurse now. I’m allowed to sit during important board meetings. Also, I’m aware that you’ve never stopped funneling financial aid after you left to study abroad.”

“For how long did you know?”

“Well at first, I didn’t know that you were one of two inheritors to KMI, but I kinda read an article about you. It was quite funny because you wore such an elegant dress and a shiny, diamond necklace and I’m not used to seeing you in those kinds of clothing, but I would never miss your red hair anywhere. And since 2015, there’s always a big monetary donation transferred from the UK. I put two and two.”

Junmyeon grows confused by the second. She never knew of this article’s existence. “What year was it - the article?”

“2014?”

“Oh god.”

Red hair, elegant clothes. Lord, it had been one of the numerous benefit galas held by her mother which Junmyeon was forced to attend.

“Did Yifan know who I was, before I came back?”

“Yes. He read that same article right before meeting you and then I believe that had been the last time you ever came back before recently.”

Yixing’s smile is oblivious. Junmyeon feels like she is going into cardiac arrest anytime soon.

She goes back to that day in the music hall. She remembers what Yifan had told her.

Whatever it is, it’s okay. I understand.

He’d held her so sweetly. He’d been so in love with her and he was willing to wait until Junmyeon was ready to come clean, he never confronted her even if he knew and he never assumed that Junmyeon had anything to do with KMI’s involvement with Green Meadows at that time.

He was waiting for her to tell him the truth he already knew.

Oh god.

Junmyeon is panicking. She clearly remembers what it’s like, sitting in front of her therapist and recalling every detail about her life that she loathed so much. It felt like every blood vessel in her entire system constricted and she couldn’t breathe.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Yifan knew and Junmyeon lied to him. She left him to protect herself. Because she wasn’t ready to deal with the pain that she imagined was going to happen. It was all her ing fault.

Junmyeon stands on unstable legs and when she stares straight ahead, her vision sees doubles. Feeling asphyxiated, Junmyeon turns towards the worried nurse and says, “Yixing, I think I-I’m -”

Junmyeon doesn’t feel the floor against her back when she passes out.

~*~

Hospitals are so cliche. White walls, the thick scent of antiseptic and the harrowing silence.

When Junmyeon comes about, she feels perfectly fine. Her therapist told her that it’s quite uncommon, the whole fainting phenomena, but it’s become her body’s defense mechanism against various aggressive mental stimuli. Case in point, Junmyeon had a panic attack, something that she hasn’t experienced since the last few years. 

Now that she can assess things clearer, all Junmyeon wants to do is drink a few bottles of whiskey then promptly pass out for three weeks.

If only she could turn back time, if she had the guts to come clean and not wait for so long before finally wanting to tell Yifan the truth. Maybe she could have salvaged the situation.

She could have been happy if she didn’t botch her chances so badly.

The door to her room opens and she says, “I’m fine.” without looking up to see who it might be.

“I thought I could entertain you with pineapple tarts.”

Upon hearing the voice, Junmyeon finally lifts her head and she sees Yifan who’s decked in navy blue scrubs under doctor’s white.

“Yifan?”

The surgeon looks at her. There’s a familiar smile on the man’s face, a smile that Junmyeon can exchange millions for.

Yifan mechanically checks her blood pressure and asks, “Alright?”

Junmyeon nods. “Perfect.”

“Pineapple tarts?” He hands her the box of pastries he’d been holding. “A friend came back from Singapore. She swears they’re the best.”

Junmyeon smiles. He still remembers her obsession with everything pineapples.

They remain quiet. Junmyeon stews in her thoughts and she cannot stop wondering if it had been a sign that their paths always seemed to cross but they’d always lose each other in the process. Yifan walks to the other side of the room where he stands in front of the window, his back turned to Junmyeon. “I overheard your conversation with Yixing.”

Junmyeon screws her eyes shut, inhaling. “I was going to tell you.”

Yifan remains staring out the window.

“I came back hoping to redeem myself. But there’s really nothing left to say.” Junmyeon steels herself. She does not want to cry.

Yifan doesn’t say anything. He crosses the room again and sits beside her hospital bed. He stays mute for an indefinite amount of time. The silence is almost unbearable.

“I loved you.” He begins to say. “I never faked what I felt and I thought you saw that, I thought you knew how willing I was to give you everything I had. It was surprising to know that you had everything. But it didn’t matter, I fooled myself. I believed that maybe you saw something in me that you needed and that I could give that to you. I learned the truth about you but I didn’t care, you have the right to keep some things about yourself private and if you didn’t want me knowing, I was fine with that. For a moment, I just really thought I knew you enough. That you were more than your money.” He looks away, scoffing, “But you left Junmyeon. And then I realized that I only fooled myself. I never knew you, not at all.”

Junmyeon’s heart is already broken beyond utter repair that she barely feels anything at all.

I loved you. It’s a hard pill to swallow.

Here they are, years later, and it’s as if Junmyeon only came back just in time to finally lose Yifan.

She wants to tell him that it’s the only thing he didn’t know about her, the ing money. Her wealth had been inconsequential until Green Meadows was involved. But Junmyeon cannot summon enough energy to explain her side of the story.

Yifan laughs, almost sardonically. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I loved you. It’s pathetic how long I waited. I deluded myself that you’d come back because maybe…maybe you loved me too. Crazy right? A penniless orphan hoping for someone like Kim Junmyeon to come back and love him in return. Jesus, I was ing insane.”

His words are shredding her to pieces but Junmyeon needed to hear. She needed to hear this anguish.

“I believed you. I believed us; but the world slapped me with a sign that from the beginning we were never going to work. Because you are Kim Junmyeon, a gifted heiress with the world on the palm of your hand. And I’m just Wu Yifan, a speck of dust in your galaxy.”

Back then, this is what Junmyeon had been afraid of. Yifan’s anger, the Yifan that didn’t look at her as if she’d hung the moon for him, the Yifan that does not love her. Junmyeon is taking it all in because after everything, she deserved it.

But she doesn’t want to give up. Junmyeon grabs the doctor by his forearm and evenly tells him. “You’re wrong. Everything that I am now, everything that changed about me. It’s because of you. , Yifan, I was spiraling into nothing before we met. I had so much ing money and I didn’t know what to do with it, didn’t know what to do with my life. You gave my existence a purpose and because of that, I loved you. I still love you.”

Yifan’s tone suddenly becomes softer, resigned, exhausted. “The first time you told me that, you left. It hurt Junmyeon, it hurt to the point that sometimes, when I stared at my reflection, I couldn’t recognize myself. I didn’t know what sort of man I’ve become after you. It’s easy to say that you held any sort of affection for me because as you’ve said, I gave your existence a purpose, but clearly, mine wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

“Yifan…”

“Give me something to hold on to, Junmyeon, because I’m beginning to think that our paths are parallel but they’re never meant to intersect.”

It’s been a long time coming.

Yifan stands up, sends her another ambivalent smile. “Take care of yourself.”

A sudden numbness falls upon Junmyeon’s being. She’s so, so, exhausted.

Junmyeon is not sure how long she sat there unmoving, until her phone rings. Junmyeon mechanically picks up the device from the bedside table.

“Who is this?”

“Miss Kim, this is Lim Sehyun, the receptionist at the Orchard. I’m calling to inform that your guest Mr. Byun Baekhyun was rushed to the E.R at Sun Medical Center. Your housekeeper has found him submerged in the bathtub and claims to say that he wouldn’t wake up.” 

Junmyeon bolts up from the bed. “What?”

“We have not received any other information, Miss Kim. We apologize.”

“No it’s alright. Thank you for informing me.”

This is too much for one day

Junmyeon, harried, exits her hospital room and leads herself to the patient information counter where she asks a composed looking receptionist about Baekhyun.

The lady must have recognized her that she doesn’t ask further identification. “The patient is transferred to the ICU a few minutes ago. Doctor Song, will be here shortly.”

“Thank you.”

A familiar, petite looking doctor arrives. She’s clad in light blue scrubs, long dark hair pulled away from her face in a high ponytail, and her face is professionally devoid of makeup. Junmyeon cannot place where she'd seen her before.

“I am Song Qian.” the doctor introduces herself, “I’m Mr. Byun’s attending. I’ll take you to his room.”

“Oh, thank you.”

They reach Intensive Care Unit room 307 where Baekhyun is thankfully stabilized.

“We’ll transfer him to a regular private room later today.”

Junmyeon stares at Baekhyun's from, through the small transparent window. “What happened to him?”

The specialist hands her a half empty bottle of sleeping pills, “He was rushed here with this. He overdosed before taking a bath. It’s a blessing that the housekeeper found him immediately, he would have suffered major complications if it had taken any longer.”

Junmyeon stares at the half empty, transparent, orange bottle with disbelieving eyes. There wasn’t a meltdown waiting to happen, there was this. Junmyeon feels sick all over again.

She stutters, “Thank you.”

“He is waking up, I will let you talk.”

Baekhyun is pale, his lips chapped. He looks frail, so unlike the person Junmyeon had seen earlier this morning.

“What the actual happened?” is the first thing that comes out of Baekhyun’s mouth. Junmyeon hands him the pill bottle and sighs. “I should be the one asking you that.”

Baekhyun stares at the pill bottle and chuckles, “I just wanted to sleep in your huge bathtub.”

"Baekhyun -"

“I know, I’m sorry Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon sits on the hospital bed and tries to compose herself. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Baekhyun does not talk. Junmyeon feels hatred radiating off the man in waves until, “I tried to forget.” e begins, rising from his reclined position. His voice shakes, trying to contain himself but he's already bursting from the seams. “I tried but I still feel his hands crawling all over my skin. I can’t sleep. He, Junmyeon, he --”

“Your boss?” Junmyeon starts with gritted teeth. Baekhyun nods, refusing to meet her gaze.

The picture becomes so startlingly clear. This is the reason why Baekhyun left the firm, why he flew across the globe to escape. Junmyeon feels her blood boil.

“I’m sorry.” Baekhyun sobs, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He just...J-Junmyeon, I didn't meant to..I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

Junmyeon gathers her best friend in a placating embrace. “No, no, no. It wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“Junmyeon, I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

“I’m here Baek, I’m here. I got you. Everything will be okay.”

What happens next is a complete ing meltdown. Junmyeon lets him cry until the doctors rush in and sedates him. Junmyeon’s head aches but when she steps out of her best friend's room, she picks up her phone and calls her secretary.

“Miss Lee, send me all information we have on Baekhyun’s last firm. I want details on his old boss.” Junmyeon instructs as soon as the call connects.

“Alright boss. Anything else?”

“Contact my lawyers and representatives in London.”

This animal should have known better before laying a hand on Baekhyun. Junmyeon is going to rain hell upon him until kingdom come.

~*~

“I feel very, very foolish.” Baekhyun is already chuckling as soon as he wakes up. “Please tell me you don’t have my embarrassing crying fit on video.”

“You’ll never know.” Junmyeon plays along. “Now we both have each other’s crying fits on record!”

Baekhyun groans. “My reputation Junmyeon, my reputation!”

“Oh shut up.”

Baekhyun’s mood suddenly becomes all too somber. “I didn’t want to kill myself, I just wanted to sleep. I’m very exhausted.”

Junmyeon approaches her best friend and stares at him. “Listen to me Baekhyun, we will destroy the monster that did this to you and we’ll get you the best help money can buy. You'll be okay, promise me that you'll be okay.”

Baekhyun tries to smile. “You keep forgetting that I'm a strong , sis.”

Junmyeon chuckles, despite the situation. "You got me. We'll get through this together."

“I owe you a lot.” Baekhyun tells her.

“You’re family. You don’t owe me anything…say before anything what about a vacation. Does a secluded beach in Indonesia sound any good?”

“Yeah. I think it’s good.”