Star.
Love From Afar & Love Returned
“I can’t… I’m-I’m sorry.”
Jong-In’s face turns blank. His eyes have an unfocused-haze in them, like he’s looking through me, through my layers of clothing, through my skin, through my organs. I don’t even think he’s even looking at me anymore. He’s just looking behind me, almost as if I’m a glass window. It scares me.
“Jong-In, I want you to know it’s not you, it’s me. I know that sounds so stupid and it’s one of the most unconvincing things a person could say to another, but it’s true. Sometimes the unbelievable is true, and the most plausible things never happen,” I know he’s not listening to anything I’m saying. I don’t even know what I’m saying. I just needed to say something. I need to do something to provoke some sort of response from Jong-In. He’s still looking through me. He hasn’t moved. I don’t think I’ve even seen him take breath. “I’m sorry…”
Tears forms in the corners of his eyes, pooling into a stream of salty sea before softly raining down. My hand reaches over to catch the tear on his cheeks before it rolls off completely. Jong-In’s skin is warm against my cold fingers. His salt burns my finger on contact, shooting imaginary pains into every crevice of my body. I kept the tear on my finger as it corroded my skin to the bare bone. Jong-In still hasn’t moved.
I can hear the other members on the other side wondering where the two of us were. It would be suspicious to find us in here together, especially if one of us is crying and can barely speak. So I decide to leave first, letting Jong-In sort his thoughts out. I drop my hand to my side, letting his salt fall down on the bathroom tiles like it was supposed to. My finger still burns. I walk towards the door, opened it, before stopping. I look back, but I can only see him from behind. His shoulders are slouched and his arms are swaying by the wind on his sides. He still hasn’t moved.
~
“Mind telling me what’s up?” a concerned Kris asks. “You haven’t spoken since we’ve left.”
We’re sitting on the swings in the park near our apartment. For some reason it seems as though I’ve been spending more time out here, than I have been inside. But I’ve always been drawn to parks, especially the swings.
“Yes, I mind.” I know I shouldn’t be so cold. He’s just caring for me, but I can’t help it.
“Come on you have –“
“Just drop it.”
“Lu Han –“
“Drop it,” I seethe out, glaring whatever embers left in my eyes into Kris’. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Alright.”
After I walked out on Jong-In, I grabbed Kris out of the crowded living room and into the kitchen. Baek Hyun was washing up the dishes from dinner, but it didn’t matter. He’s not the type to blab about other people. I told Kris that I wanted to be out for the night. Kris asked me why. I told him it was nothing, and I just wanted some fresh air. He asked if it was about Jong-In. I started to walk away. He grabbed my arm and agreed to take me out for the night. We grabbed our wallets and phones, told Baek Hyun that we’d be out for the night and to not wait up for us, and left.
Now we’re here, sitting on a set of swings in silence. I don’t know what I want to achieve dragging Kris out. I guess I just need someone’s company and Kris’ is the only one I really want.
“I’ve got an idea! Wanna head out to an arcade?” beams Kris.
“Are they still open at this hour?”
“Well, the 24-hour ones are, and I know just the place.”
“I don’t know.” Truthfully, I just want to sit on these swings until the sun comes up. And when it does, I’ll buy food to comfort my stomach and then sit on these swings again until the sun sets. It’ll be a vicious self-sustaining cycle until my body breaks down and rigor mortis kicks in.
“Come on. It’ll get your mind off things.” Kris smiles. He’s trying so damn hard to cheer me up, he’s even actively smiling at me. Fine. I’ll take the bait.
“Alright.”
And so we leave. We walk down the street in silence. It’s almost 11pm and the cafés are closing. Couples of all ages are walking arms linked, smiling, whispering little nothings into each other’s ears, but most of all, they’re mocking me. They all flaunt the fact they’re in relationships. There’s a young couple sitting on a bench. They’re giggling, caressing, chastely kissing each other’s skin. I gather a load of phlegm in the back of my throat and spit it out right in front of them.
“What the hell was that for!? Do you wanna’ ing start something?” shouts the young man, face red and ready to fight. His girl cowers away.
“I’m so, so sorry. He’s just a little sick,” Kris steps in, shielding my pathetic excuse of a body with his own. “He didn’t mean it.”
“ you. That’s ing disgusting. What’s wrong with you people? That kid is a nut.” The young man rebuts, grabbing his girl’s hand in the process and leading her away.
I walk onwards, leaving Kris to catch up.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“What’s it to you, anyway? Mind your own business.”
“This is my business. We have an image to keep up, Lu Han. You’re going to be famous. You’re not just a normal person anymore.”
“I never was.”
“Oh, Lu Han…”’
“Where’s the stupid arcade? I’ll go there myself.”
Kris then proceeds to lead the way.
I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I haven’t been this emotional for a long time. I’ve always kept myself away at a distance from all this emotional baggage. But after Jong-In showed up… I don’t know what to think of him. I’ve known the kid for about a week. We’re not friends. The only thing I know about him is his name, and the fact that he has insomnia, and smells like cinnamon rain, and has a puppy, and the feel of his lips on the nape of my neck, and his warmth enveloping mine. We’re not friends.
“We’re here, your Highness.” Kris mockingly bows, tipping an imaginary hat at me.
“Idiot.” I small smile creeps on my lips, before smacking him in the head.
The arcade is nothing to brag about. It’s a modest size about the size of two classrooms. It’s empty. Bright neon lights and the jingle from the various machines welcome me to bask in the joy of arcades. But I can’t feel any of it. Kris’ face lights up brighter than the blinking lights from the machines.
“I haven’t been to an arcade in years.” He scans the perimeter, hypnotised by anything that lights up. His eyes quickly land on me before softening up. “So… where do you wanna’ go first?”
“I don’t know. Arcades aren’t my thing.” They really aren’t. They’re always too noisy and bright, but that’s exactly the type of place I need to be in right now. I’m glad Kris vouched for the arcade.
“You must have had a boring childhood.” Kris chides.
“It was everything but boring.” I stated coldly.
Kris’ face scrunches up. You can tell he regrets what he said.
“Sorry…”
“Let’s go shoot hoops.”
I walk ahead of him, leaving him behind to catch up. The basketball machine is nothing to brag about. It’s old, the paint’s peeling off, the LED display only shows up half the digits and dirt and dust have accumulated at the bottom. I dig a few coins out of my wallet and shove it in. I press the obnoxiously flashing START button, letting free the four basketballs from the dispenser. I grab the one that looks the least deflated, line it up and shoot.
“Nice!” exclaims the generic voice from the machine in heavily accented English.
I don’t play basketball often, but I’m good at it nonetheless. I’ve always been good at any kind of sports; I just lacked the passion to enjoy them. I pick up the next ball and shoot again.
“Good shoot!” the same heavily accented English exclaims again, this time ignoring grammar.
“I never knew you were such a good shot.” looms Kris’ voice behind me.
I ignore him.
He walks up towards the machine, takes one of my basketballs and shoots.
“Good!” exclaims the machine again. I kick the machine hard, hoping that it’ll shut the hell up.
“If you break it, I’m not helping you pay.”
“Yeah, well, stop stealing my shots.” I say, pushing him away.
After one more round, I ended up beating the high score. I guess I should have felt some sort pride, but I didn’t. Kris congratulated me with another bow and a tip of his imaginary hat. Again, I hit him in the head.
We played around the arcade for about an hour. Kris offered to pay for most of the games, but I just shoved my own money in first, telling him that: “I’m not some e. I don’t need your money.”. He couldn’t tell if I was being serious or not.
I ended up actually enjoying myself. The two-player shooting games were good. We probably spent most of remaining cash on those machines alone. Kris could tell I really enjoyed shooting, so he kept encouraging us to keep playing. We laughed and joked the whole night, but Jong-In was always in the back of my head, reminding me that I shouldn’t be enjoying myself, but wallowing in self-hate. Every time that did happen, Kris was always there to help me forget it again. But Jong-In was, and still is, always there.
~
“Thank god for 24-hour convenience stores.” exclaimed Kris as he opens up a can of soft drink.
I nod.
It’s almost 3am. After the arcade, Kris allowed me to ‘break my image’ for a while. He watched over me from a close distance as I ran on the roads like they were pathways, sang songs loudly and out of tune until my lungs started to hurt and my throat went all raspy. Kris told me to at least get off the road, but I ignored him. Now we’re sitting on the sidewalk outside a convenience store.
“Do you wanna’ head back now?” asks Kris with his mouth stuffed with a hot dog.
“No, but I will.” I answer as I look unsatisfactorily at this poor excuse for a meat pie.
I stand up, throw the unfinished pie in the rubbish, and start heading back.
“Hey! Wait up!” shouts Kris with his mouth still stuffed with food. “What’s the rush? It’s not like we have a curfew or anything.”
“But don’t we have an image to keep up?” I sarcastically mock.
“I guess we do.” Kris grins to himself, as if he’s proud to have taught me something.
As we head back, the cold night-wind sweeps through my clothing. My breath gets shallow and I start to shiver. Kris notices and starts to take his coat off.
“Take it. You’ll catch a cold.”
“N-no, I’m fine.” I manage to seethe out through my chattering teeth.
He ignores my answer and covers me with his coat. It smells fresh, spring-time freshness. Kris’ body warmth mixes with mine, warming me up from this cold winter night. But his warmth feels so foreign and out of place. It feels like forcing a jigsaw puzzle into the wrong place. It just felt so wrong.
“I told you, I don’t need it.” I wiggle myself out of his coat, letting it fall onto the dirty pathway.
I start to quicken my pace, hoping to escape this cold and cuddle back into bed. But what about Jong-In? I stop mid-pace, wondering what I should do at this impasse. I don’t know. I really don’t know.
“Could have at least warned me you were gonna’ toss it on the ground,” Kris dejectedly murmurs, his expression hurt with rejection, as he catches up from retrieving his coat.
“I told you I didn’t need it.”
I start walking again. Kris and I stay in silence, him trailing behind a few paces, visibly dejected from my refusal of his kind offer. Whatever, I don’t have time to deal with Kris. I just need to get out of this damn cold. Jong-In’s probably asleep anyway. Or at least trying to…
~
“Everyone’s asleep,” whispers Kris as we sneak into the dark living room.
We quietly take off our shoes and turn the lights on. I immediately welcome the warmth.
“You heading off to bed now?” breathes Kris.
“No, I need to lie down on the couch for a bit.”
“Why not go straight to bed?”
“The couch is comfy.” I lie. The truth is: I don’t want to face Jong-In yet. I don’t think I can. Not after what I did to him last night.
“Alright. I’ll join you. I’ll get some drinks.”
Kris tip-toes off to the kitchen, while I collapse on the white leather couch. It’s not comfy at all. It’s rather hard and quite rough on the tailbone. I lie there, staring up at the ceiling wondering what the hell I should do about Jong-In. Maybe I can switch rooms with Chan Yeol? I’m sure he won’t mind. He and Jong-In are good friends, right? Yes. I guess I’ll have to ask permission from Kris first. But then he’ll ask why. I’m sure I can make some excuse.
“Is apple juice okay?” says Kris’ head that pokes out of the kitchen.
I nod.
Glassware clinks and eventually Kris returns with two glasses of amber liquid. Water droplets hug the surface area of the glass. He hands it to me and sits down right next to where my head lays. I sit up to take a sip. The icy liquid rolls down my throat, chilling me to the bone. As much as I hate the cold right now, I decide to skull the rest of the drink, letting it freeze my insides like liquid nitrogen.
“Calm down, it’s not a shot of vodka.” Chides Kris as he politely sips his glass of apple juice like it’s English tea.
“That’s exactly what I need right now.”
Kris makes a y laugh, one fitting for his charming self. He then reaches over to the television remote and turns the huge screen on. We stay silent, sitting next to each other with only a few centimetres distance between us. Kris continues to flip through every channel, hoping to find something interesting on. My eyes droop down heavy and my head starts the bob. Eventually, I give up trying to stay awake and collapse on the couch again. I use Kris’ lap as my pillow, stare absentmindedly at the television as I try and drift off to sleep.
“W-what are you doing?!” softly alarms Kris.
“Just shut up and let me sleep.”
Kris does exactly as I he is told. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat with the least amount of movement possible. His thighs are muscular and hard, but is still a considerably comfortable pillow. He places one of his hands on my waist, before turning the television volume down. Moments after I drift off to sleep, Chan Yeol barges into the living room.
“Kris!” Chan Yeol shouts with no obvious regard for anyone who’s sleeping. Kris jerks in his seat, before sitting upright. I remain on his lap, too sleep-lagged to get up. “You need to set that stupid kid straight. All he does is sulk. I’ve tried to help him, but he just frikken rejects me.”
He pauses to take a breath, before staring directly at me.
“I don’t know what you did, Lu Han, but you pissed him off.”
I get up straight away, knowing that he’s talking about Jong-In.
Then Chan Yeol stomps off back into his room and slams the door shut. I’m pretty sure everyone’s awake now. I’ve never seen Chan Yeol angry before, it seriously doesn’t suit his character. He’s usually the laid back type, taking things as they go. What did Jong-In do to piss him off so much?
“I guess it was about Jong-In.” Kris mutters to himself.
“Y-yeah…” I sigh and sink back onto Kris’ lap. “it’s always about that kid.”
Kris doesn’t replace his hand on my waist. He looks out of the balcony window, his eyes focused on nothing in particular.
“You like him, don’t you?”
“Y-you already asked me that!” I stutter as I bury myself in his lap.
“I’m asking you again. Do you like Jong-In?”
I freeze. Time seems to slow down, as if it’s actually allowing me to take the time to think this through. The characters on screen move at five pixels per hour*, there’s a humming in my ear, my heart slowly beats. Do I like Jong-In?
“Y-yeah…” I whisper. “I think I do.”
Kris doesn’t say anything. He keeps his focus out in the balcony window, out into the night sky, beyond anything tangible. It’s like he’s frozen in a river of stars and skies, but then he moves. He closes his eyes for a second, breathes in and out, and then opens them again. His focus returns to the television, but I know he’s not watching. He’s not even paying attention to anything but us.
“Why?” Kris asks.
“W-what do you mean why?”
“Why do you like him?”
“I don’t know…” I really don’t. The first time I met Jong-In I knew there was something that irked me about him. Something that wasn’t quite normal. When he said he liked my hair messy, I didn’t know what to think. Then he called me cute. Then he almost kissed me. Then he almost kissed me again, cried and slept on my shoulder. Then he slept in my bed with me. Then he confessed to me. “I really don’t know…”
“When you do know, tell me?”
“Y-yeah.”
Then we stayed silent. We didn’t say another word to each other. Something changed between me and Kris. Our dynamic changed. Even though he’s so close to me, he’s seems so far away. Even with my head on his lap, I can feel Kris moving further and further away from me. I peer into his cloudy eyes as he watches the television. He’s not paying attention to the TV or us, anymore. He’s somewhere else. Somewhere beyond reality. His eyes are red, straining themselves to hold back a surge of emotion. I want to further observe what’s wrong with Kris, but my consciences drifts off to sleep.
~
Click. The door closing wakes me up. I’m in my bed, in a fresh pink shirt, under my blanket, in my shared bedroom with Jong-In. I guess Kris carried me to bed. It’s 5am. I peer over to the other side of the room to find the bed empty and the blanket tossed on the floor. Where’s Jong-In? I hear the toilet flush through the thick walls. He’s in the bathroom. I quickly turn myself over to face the wall, avoiding any contact with him. I lie in bed, waiting for him to return. I hear his light footsteps grow louder and louder. I stay deathly still, so still I can hear the blood pumping through my veins and my heartbeat in my eardrums. The doorknob squeaks. The door opens. The door closes. I wait to hear the sounds of a blanket being picked up off the ground and a body collapse on a bed, but I don’t. Instead, I hear Jong-In quietly sit down on the cold floor next to my bed. I hear the rhythm of his breath. I hear his small sniffles from the cold air. I hear him swallow his saliva.
And then, I feel a pressure on my mattress. His hands. Jong-In’s hands. I can feel them seep underneath my blankets. I expect them to touch me, but they don’t. They stop on the position I was were before. They relish in my body heat. We stay in that position for what seems like eons. My heart beats like a motor engine. My minds a blur. I can’t think straight. I can almost feel the warmth of Jong-In’s hand embrace the skin on my back.
But they eventually disappear. I hear Jong-In stand up. He stares at me for a while, before bending down. His face hovers above mine. I can feel his warm breath dance along my nose. He leans in closer, but moves back. He walks away from my bed, picks up his blanket off the floor and collapses on his bed. Eventually his breathing settles into pace. He’s asleep.
~
It’s almost 6:30am. I haven’t slept since. I just stayed in bed, staring up at the ceiling, occasionally sneaking a peek at Jong-In. He’s facing the wall. I can’t see his face. Oh god, I need to see his face.
I decide to do something stupid. I get out of bed, walk over to the other side of the room, and slip in underneath Jong-In’s blankets. To my surprise, he’s shirtless. His toned back, entices me for a touch. I try and hold back, but I can’t. I lightly dance my fingers along his shoulder blades, spine shoulders and neck. Jong-In stirs, but doesn’t wake up. I settle to just staring at his back, memorising every contour, every spot and freckle. He has a small birthmark on his left shoulder. It’s pale and barely noticeable, but if you’re close enough, you can see it’s almost the shape of a star. I stare at the star on his back until my eyes become heavy and my nose is engulfed by his cinnamon rain.
It’s 11:42am.
I wake up alone.
It’s just me in Jong-In’s bed.
I move onto the spot where he was last night.
I snuggle in his warmth and breathe in his cinnamon rain.
When I close my eyes, I see every contour, every spot and freckle on his back.
But most of all, I see the birthmark on his left shoulder.
I see his star.
________________________________
I'm extremely sorry for being this late. I was supposed to finish this chapter off two days ago, but I got seriously lazy after downing five of my exams. But now I've only got three more!
Yes, i know it's pretty much a rehash of the previous chapter. I was going to add a little more to this one, but i'll save it for next week. OH, I'll be updating around this time next week (right after all my exams finish!).
umm.....
NOTES:
* I wrote a short story on this whole concept of moving -per seconds. If you guys are interested to read it... give me a shout out and i'll post them on a blog or something. I've got a few other stories i'd like you to read!
OH! Yes, I am a guy. Weird huh? I'm glad all of you don't find it weird. I thought you would, which is why I kinda typed like girl in all my author notes. But thank you, for being so damn encouraging.
PS. Thank you. I got so many comments and subscribers over the past week!
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