For Yong Junhyung, everything had to be written down in his journal. Some would call it a diary, but he thought of it as making notes or writing a story. It was more treasured than a simple diary. Usually, it was kept locked in the drawer on his desk, all his secrets and fears safe from prying eyes. But he slipped up, he left it out when he shouldn’t have, and everything was discovered.

Up until about a few months ago, his journal had been completely innocent. Just observations about his day and things he’d done, like work. But that all changed when he met Yoseob. He wasn’t supposed to be attracted to him, he was a guy. He wasn’t supposed to feel the way he did about him, he had a girlfriend. But none of that mattered when they were together. It was like the rest of the world faded to nothing, he had no worries and no fears. It was just him and Yoseob, nothing more. That’s what made him slip up; he was so wrapped up in their perfect world that he began to forget about reality. The reality where he had a girlfriend, one his parents wanted him to marry and one that loved him.

He used to love her too, but it all became fiction after Yoseob. Not that she could tell, she never noticed the different look in his eyes, or the way his arm now rested on her shoulders awkwardly, rather than comfortably. She just didn’t know him well enough, but Yoseob did, he understood. He was the only one to know all his secrets, even ones he hadn’t dared or thought to write in his journal. Yoseob also knew about his girlfriend, but he cared about her as much as Junhyung himself cared for her now. He wanted to forget about her, and when he was with Yoseob he could. But he never thought it would hurt so much to be found out.

He had gone to meet Yoseob whilst she was at work, like he always did. But this time he forgot to lock away his journal, leaving tales of his secret romance and passionate nights open for anyone to read, and someone did. He came home that night to his journal being shoved in his face with screams and demands for an explanation. Instead of lying, or trying to fix it, he told the truth. He told her how he didn’t love her and how he loved Yoseob, loved him so much it hurt but at the same time made him feel alive. He shouldn’t have told her so much, to spare her some heartache but he couldn’t help it. Now his journal was exposed, all the details of his secret tryst spewed from his lips. Finally telling someone, saying it all out loud, made him feel lighter and free but she was soon going to stop that.

She told him to pack up and leave, despite the fact it was his house. She told him to get out and never come back, and worst of all she told him she was going to tell his family. Suddenly his perfect world had been shattered, through all his happiness he had never thought about getting discovered. She stormed out to tell them and to leave him to pack, but he had to stop her. His heart felt like it was bursting and salty beads of prayer streamed from his eyes as he ran after her, it couldn’t end like this. He called out to her asking, begging for her to say nothing but she turned away, and left him to collapse helplessly to the ground, his nails digging into the dirt like it was the only thing left he could hold onto.

This time it wasn’t fiction, she didn’t lie like he did. She told them, she ruined his perfect world. Things weren’t the same between him and Yoseob anymore. They still loved each other and Yoseob was always there for him but Junhyung wasn’t happy, he couldn’t be anymore. He was no longer welcome in his own home. But despite everything, he never wanted to let Yoseob go.

The culprit of his downfall - his journal – became a place for fiction, not things that happened but things that he wished happened. Their world, their story could never end. So he began to write their story as it should have been, a happy one that was so different from the truth. And even though it was only a wish, Junhyung wrote each word with all his heart as if it had really happened, slowly losing his grip on reality, yet never letting Yoseob go. Their story couldn’t end, even if it was only fiction.