Chapter 15

It doesn't feel heavy at all, the casket on his shoulder. Every step he takes burdens him so much though. As if his feet are made of stone.

He's getting closer and closer to that endless pit of pain. He's scared. Every fiber in his body screams for him to turn around and run. Reality mentally grabs him back every time, forcing him to carry on.

Only a few meters more, Ji. He says to himself.

There are Jinwoo's friends up the green cemetery hill, watching down with sad eyes. Some of the little girls are clearly crying. Some of the parents look like they are praying hard inside for this kind of misery to never happen to them.

Jiyong heaves, the pain inside almost feels unbearable.

There's Dara in a long black dress, standing next to Mark. Some good friends from the racing team come for Jinwoo too. Even doctor Choi is there with two of Jinwoo's favorite nurses. As he comes close to where they will lay Jinwoo to rest, Jiyong also sees their neighbors forming a row of mourners with Taeyeon's few friends.

Taeyeon. She's standing alone far from the other, staring blankly ahead.

Since the Harley ride ended, she hasn't said a word. She has stopped crying entirely too. It tears Jiyong apart to realize how vacant her eyes seem at the moment. The palpable hopelessness in them feel so heavy it stops him from moving.

“Ji.”

That one syllable and a pat on his back come from behind him. From Tabi.

“You okay?”

Jiyong sighs, taking another step forward. How can he be okay? This is him carrying his son for one last time. This is him stepping closer to what feels like the end of his own life.

When he, Tabi, and the other four men finally arrive at the burial spot then carefully lower the casket down, Jiyong's heart grows impossibly heavier. He doesn't want to let go. He can not let go.

Desperate for one last moment, one last connection, Jiyong bends down to touch the wooden surface. Inside this lonely box lays his son. His only son. His Jinwoo. If only he could turn back time.

"Come on, Ji. It's okay."

He can feel Tabi holds him up by the shoulders. He can hear someone sobs.

Taeyeon?

He glances up.

There are no tears in those sad eyes. Her hands are trembling hard though.

He comes to her side, feeling the need to share both the pain and the strength.

“We are gathered here to say farewell to Kwon Jinwoo, a beautiful soul, a wonderful kid-”

The priest's words get drowned by the crippling sadness within, Jiyong reaches out for Taeyeon's hand. It feels so cold, her fingers.

“Taeyeon.” He whispers when he feels her body shaking. “It will be okay. It will be okay.”

She shakes her head, refusing his attempt to hug her. Sandara swiftly moves closer, wrapping a hand around Taeyeon's shoulder for him.

When the casket starts to get lowered into the ground Jiyong bites his lip so hard it bleeds.

Sandara sobs.

Taeyeon does not.

He's playing spin-the-bottle with the empty Smirnoff.

For every time the bottle stops he chooses a wonderful memory of his son then painfully plays it on repeat in his mind. He plays and plays until it's too painful inside he can literally feel it pressing against his chest.

Then he spins once more.

Spin. Mourning. Repeat.

Spin. Mourning. Repeat.

He can still feel the weight of the small casket on his shoulder. The casket that he buried with silent tears.

He can still feel the cold snow biting into his fingers. The snow that fell when he took his dying son on a last ride.

He's not wasted. The vodka from this empty bottle was the last alcohol he touched and it was weeks ago. Still, his mind isn't clear, his heart isn't free. As if barb wires are tangled around his psyche, slicing him inside every time he tries to move on.

He can not move on.

So he lies there on the dirty floor of his small apartment, dancing so many last dances with Jinwoo's smile. The empty bottle is his only friend.

His phone rings. The only sound that makes him shots up straight immediately. He forgets where the phone is, wasting a few seconds to locate the device. When he sees the caller id he tosses the phone away again.

It's Tabi. Not Taeyeon.

Taeyeon.

Taeyeon.

Taeyeon.

Chanting her name, Jiyong sits on the floor this time. Trying to remember her as he spins the bottle once more. The only image of her he can recall is the one from the funeral. Where her expression was so full of sorrow, her face so pale, yet there were no tears in her eyes.

Taeyeon.

She stopped speaking. She refused to be consoled let alone be touched. Before the memorial service ended she has completely shut everyone out, locking herself in Jinwoo's room.

Please, respect me. I need to be alone. She wrote on a piece of paper slid under the door when Jiyong threatened to break in.

He backed away. Wanted to say more, needed to do more, but it's Taeyeon, he can never win.

Now he's holed up in this ty place waiting for her to call him. Waiting for her to overcome that pain and talk to him. Because who else can she talk about this bleeding pain with, right? He's the only one who understands. He was the only one she shared Jinwoo with.

Jiyong nudges the bottle to spin once more, closing his eyes trying to see the Taeyeon he saw in the club years ago. The Taeyeon from their wedding day. The happy Taeyeon that smiled up at him as she held baby Jinwoo in her arms.

“Damn it!” He stands up, kicking the bottle because all he can see is the Taeyeon that has turned into stone. The Taeyeon that wounded so bad inside, she looks like a living-dead outside. The Taeyeon he could not safe.

“Damn it!” He's incredibly hungry and thirsty, can't remember the last time he hit the grocery store. Staggering to the kitchen counter, Jiyong finds half a box of pizza and a can of soda he can't remember from when.

The pizza is spoiled, no need to look closely to see all the fungus. He takes one big gulp of the soda, closing his eyes feeling dizzy. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Jinwoo.

He laughs, knowing that the boy smiling by the closed window is not real. That it's just a shadow reflected from the corner of his broken heart. Closing his eyes once more then drinks the beverage to its last drop, Jiyong can feel his stomach churning.

“Oh .” Almost too late, he shifts closer to the sink and pukes his gut out.

“I'm not drunk, J-boy.” He turns his head, smiling back at his son. The bitterness of vomit lingers on his tongue as he blinks to see his son better. “I'm just sad.”

“Daddy is sad. Very sad.” He laughs again, bending to rinse his mouth with tap water. “But Daddy will be okay. Promise. Now can you go to your mom and tell her to speak to me instead? You don't want her to be alone, remember?”

He tries to stand up straight, seeing stars then feels his own body fall the floor. Before everything goes black, he sees Jinwoo fades.

“Damn you look like a mess.”

“Shut up.” Jiyong groans, turning to his side so he doesn't have to face Tabi. But Sandara is on the other side of the bed, giving him the sad look he hates so much.

“I'm so glad you wake up, Ji.” Sandara touches his hand gently before reaching out to press the button over the bed. “We were so worried.”

A nurse walks in, asking questions while checking Jiyong with a stethoscope before a doctor come and pretty much do and ask the same things. Jiyong shuts all fours of his company out, treating them like white noises while focusing on the clouds he can see outside the window.

It's easy to see Jinwoo's face on the bright sky right lately. That sweet smile that Jiyong will never be able to forget. The two bright eyes that had been the source of Jiyong's strength in the past. It feels like everything he sees reminds him of his son, pulling him deeper into sadness.

Jiyong tries to see different, imagining other persons between the clouds. But it's only Taeyeon that can replace the image of Jinwoo and his mind wanders to the time when the three of them were happy. The time when he knew no pain.

“Ji.” Sandara calls out, touching his shoulder.

“Hmmm.” Jiyong turns his attention back to the room, realizing that the nurse and doctor are not there anymore.

“The doctor said you need to try and eat.”

“I'm not hungry.” He throws a hateful look at the cup of pink Jell-O Sandara is holding.

“At least try a little. You need the strength to recover.”

“I'm fine.”

“I bet Jinwoo is very – very proud of his father right now.” As cynical as ever, Tabi chimes in. “This look. This attitude. Damn you were such a wonderful man for your son to look up to, you still are.”

“Shut up!”

“Oh, I will. Once I beat that stupidity out of your ugly face.”

“Tabi, come on.