Bad Behavior
Chapter Thirteen
Yongguk POV

I spent twenty four hours in jail before anyone bothered to come and inform me of what was going on. And the person who came couldn’t have possibly been anyone worse. I was the only person in my cell, luckily, because the sound of clicking heels seemed excite my adjacent offenders an awful lot. My heart twisted up as I knew instantly, just from that sound. Jieun.

She stopped in front of my cell and I sighed.  I didn’t look at her any more than she started the conversation. We sat in silence for a  long time, a heavy air bearing down on our shoulders. I had nothing to say, and she had too  much  pride to speak first. Out of apology to her, I broke the heavy ice. “Hello, Jieun.”

The silence persisted for nearly a minute after that. When she finally spoke up, her voice broke.

“Why?”

I heaved another sigh, unable to reply. I finally looked at her to see her perfect mask had finally cracked. Big tears fell from her eyes, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away and smear her makeup.  “I loved you,” I told her, carefully. “And I tried to get you back. I begged you to stop playing that game—you ruined me, Jieun. I lived every day in this fog of heavy sadness. Do you know who brought me out of that?” She wouldn’t look at me, and I could tell she was biting at the inside of her cheek to stop her tears.

“Junhong.”

She appeared hurt by the name, like I had slapped her across the face; which, in a way, I had. She balled her thin fingers into fists and released the tension several times. “He’s a little boy, Yongguk. How could you fall in love with a little boy?” she spat, as if I was confused. I nodded to her, though I knew perfectly well that I was fully lucid. Over the past few months in Busan I had fallen deeper and deeper in a sinful love with a child. But Choi Junhong was no ordinary child.

“You guys missed his birthday, right? He’s seventeen now; soon eighteen, then nineteen. Little boys grow up, Jieun. Especially little boys who have to deal with parents like his,” I told her calmly. She looked at me with fiery eyes, and for the first time I was thankful for the bars locking me in and others out. I’m sure if she could have, she would have slapped me on the spot.  Indignantly, I sat back and let it sink in.

“You’re a grown man,” she said pointedly, “that fact hasn’t changed just because Junhong is getting older.” That much was true, and a few months ago would have stirred guilt in my chest. Now it was simply a fact of my life and my complicated love with the boy I so adored. I shrugged a bit and she let out a frustrated huff. She couldn’t wrap her head around our decision. No one could. It was something only Junhong and I knew.

“We got back together because Himchan was trying to shake him from my mind. I thought it would work too—maybe it would have been better if it had. But it didn’t. That fire burned out a long time ago, Jieun,” I told her, softening the harsh words with the tone of my voice. It still stung, I was sure, but I was sick and tired of lying. There had been so many lies in the past year that they had all wrapped up into one big ball of discomfort for a man like me.
 

“It’s crazy, I know, but I fell in love with the little brat. I’m not taking it back now.”

She left me that way, but I didn’t much mind. On the bed that was about as comfortable as concrete I laid back. I had no pad of paper to write with this time, so instead I thought of Junhong. I remembered the months had spent and how much I learned from him. I remembered the feeling of his soft fingers tracing my tattoo at night time, and the way he’d whisper in his sleep. I remembered his drooling face and his pouting faces. I remembered it all. Smiling, I was able to sleep that way.

When I woke up I was ushered out of the tiny cell first thing. I was curious as to whether or not they’d let me take a shower or possibly get a bite to eat, but instead they brought me to a tiny little room. “Your lawyer is here. The Choi family and their lawyer want to meet with you to discuss a plea bargain, we suggest you meet with your lawyer beforehand however…” I cut him off with a shake of my head. I wasn’t dangerous so my hands weren’t bound. Shrugging it off, I opened the door and stepped in.

Four pairs of eyes snapped to me right away. The first were Mrs. Choi’s which were puffy, then Junhong’s which held their regular fire, then Mr. Choi’s, narrowed and glaring, then the tired eyes of Himchan. I nodded to them, shuffling across the room to take a seat across them at the stainless steel table, mentally ailing over my poor back. Junhong watched me intently, but said nothing. I almost smiled to him, but the anger seething off both his parents told me to keep stoic.

“Junhong here is making this a bit difficult,” Himchan announced. “I take it you plan to plead guilty.” I nodded and he sighed. “Yes, well, Junhong doesn’t like the charges very much and wants to cut you some slack. He’s holding a few things over our heads…” As Himchan spoke his voice was sharp but controlled, and it was clear to see that he was quite annoyed with the whole mess. I could only smile apologetically to him and shrug my shoulders slightly. With that, the bargaining began.

“Two years, with a chance of being released for good behavior,” he offered. I shrugged but Junhong shook his head.

“Too much,” he stated with a nod. Beside him, his father grew rigid in his seat.

“A year, with chance of parole,” Himchan tried again after a frustrated sigh. I didn’t even get to respond before Junhong shot Himchan an offended glare. It wasn’t a bargaining with me, so honestly I didn’t know why I was present. It was just Himchan and Junhong bouncing back and forth with the time of imprisonment dropping lower and lower. It was funny to watch, really, but with the parents glaring daggers I didn’t dare laugh. I was calm and relaxed, since the gravity of the situation just didn’t seem like that much to me anymore. I had been through so much already that this was just another decline on the roller coaster that was Choi Junhong.

Before long my sentence had dropped from two years to two months, and I’m sure Junhong would have kept shooting for as little as two weeks if his mother hadn’t spoken up. “Community service and a restraining order,” she blurted suddenly. The bickering between Junhong and Himchan quieted down and Junhong stared at her in disbelief. He shook his head stubbornly, opposing the option strongly, but I finally spoke up.

“I’ll agree to that,” I told her quietly. Junhong looked at me in disbelief, and even Himchan looked shocked by my response. I had gained an understanding of the situation through being arrested, and it was that understanding and changed perspective that possessed me to agree to not see Junhong anymore. He would lead a good life without this on his record, so I nodded, complacently accepting that our fates were not meant to be after all. Truthfully, I had known this would happen all along, and I’m sure Junhong did too, but he hadn’t come to terms with it yet.

“You can’t!” he begged, reaching across the table to grab my hand. I smirked and Mr. Choi viciously grabbed his wrist, pulling it back away from me, like I was a diseased animal. I didn’t make any obvious moves, but I gently nudged him with my foot under the table, and looked into his eyes. It was going to be okay, and I tried to communicate that, but I’m not sure if he really understood it at that time or not.

“Great. Once we can collect testimonies, you’ll trial will be first in priority,” Himchan said robotically. He was pleased with the deal and my behavior, I was sure. I was finally acting my age, and I was finally done being a burden to him. I smiled to him too and nodded. Junhong argued still, right up until his mother and father had to both grab an arm and practically drag him out. He spat out a billion threats in that time, looking at me over his shoulder. Desperately, he tried to cling to me, but I let him go.

Himchan lingered in the room after the door swung shut. He didn’t speak right away but shot a deadly glare in my direction. “You’re so dead. After this trial is over, I’m going to be tried and convicted of first degree murder, you know,” he spat. I laughed a bit, glad to see that he hadn’t changed much at all. Himchan was like that; like a boulder in a river, solid and never budging with the coursing current. I had always admired that stability.

“I really love him, Himchan,” I said with a dreamy sigh as I watched the now closed door. Himchan shook his head and tried to look busy in order to validate sticking around to speak to a criminal.

“And look where that got you. Your head’s in the gutter and that kid is jumping in after you and you’re both dragging everyone else down with you. Tell me, Yongguk, how is that fair?” he lectured, pacing around the claustrophobic little space. I couldn’t give him a response because it wasn’t fair. We were doing wrong, and I realized that, but it didn’t mean that I regretted it. Tipping back in my chair, I placed my hands behind my head. I grinned at the ceiling and chuckled to myself.

“You’ve never been in love, have you, Himchan?” I asked him, bouncing a bit on the hind legs of the seat. Himchan’s eyes shot to me, wide and crazy like they always were when he was angry. Himchan had always been a guarded person. He didn’t let others in, and didn’t often reach out to others either. He didn’t get attached to clients, and everything was strictly business to him. I felt bad toward him because knew, deep down, he was torn up whenever he put an innocent person behind bars. He knew as well as I that I hadn’t hurt Junhong in anyway, and that I was no kidnapper, but connections talked, and the talked an awful lot to Kim Himchan.

“It doesn’t matter if I have or not. I wouldn’t go crazy like this. You’ve messed up everything for yourself, for some boy—don’t you care about that?” he half-shouted at me. I met his eyes and shook my head without hesitation. If I had the chance, knowing this as the ending, I would do it again. And again. And Again. For a thousand times and a thousand times more, I would give up everything for the boy with the pouty lips and candy colored hair.

“I’m happy, at least.”

I left him with that because I know he heated not having the last word. He liked to have the closing statement, to punch out the words that would really hit someone where it hurt, but this time I left him with the words to be choked on. I was escorted back to my cell to think about what had just happened. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw a squirming boy attempting to score access to the cells enough to pay a visit. Junhong was desperately trying to get to me, but I didn’t look in his direction. Soon, I was sure he’d get it.

Once I was back in the cell I came to realize how terribly boring it was to be in jail. That was the only thing that killed me. The food was bad, but I had had worse. The mattress was terrible, but I was a tough man. It was the sheer lack of things to do that drove me mad. There was no one to talk to; nothing to read; I couldn’t even write down my thoughts. I was completely alone, without the ability to see whoever was on either side of me. Some of them talked, but listening to them was almost worse than dealing with the quiet itself.

I did pushups after a while, falling into the stereotypical prisoner behavior. I wasn’t in real prison or anything, but jail was bad enough for me. I faced the inner wall, counting until my arms were shaking over the weight of my own torso.

“Your form is really bad,” came a familiar voice. I twisted around before I collapsed into a sweaty mess on the ground. It was Jongup who had come to see me this time, standing awkwardly on the other side. He didn’t meet my eyes and only looked at his feet. He looked like a child who had done something terrible and was about to own up and get scolded.

“Junhong had me pay your bail,” he announced. An officer of the law confirmed this by quickly undoing the latch and letting the bars slide back. The made an awfully rumbling sound and scraped against the concrete floor making the younger man wince. I nodded, having expected little less.

“I can’t go see him… He knows that, right?” I asked curiously as we filed out with paper work to sign. Jongup nodded a bit as he walked beside me.

“I won’t let you see him.”

That surprised me a bit and sent me glancing in his direction. Jongup was, by nature, a soft spoken kid. He didn’t often assert his opinions on the situations that came to sit before him; instead he stood complacently by, letting the world slip by anyway it chose. The sheer sternness of his voice seemed out of place coming from the gentle young man I had come to know briefly. He met my eyes, gaze narrow and determined. He stated it so absolutely, and I didn’t argue, but he continued to elaborate anyway.

“He’s still their child, you know. They love him—even if they do things wrong, and they forget how much he means to them, they love him,” he lectured, signing over the money that bought my freedom. “His mother cried almost every night, you know. He’s back in body but he’s still gone.” I winced a bit with his new slant on the situation. “I was worried too. We spent three months wondering if he was alive or dead—you may love him—but you had no right to snatch him away.”

I hadn’t really thought about the whole situation that way. It hadn’t occurred to me for even a moment that Junhong was indeed their child and there were bonds there. I had been blinded by his teenage discomfort and my unadulterated affection for the boy. Dropping my eyes, all I could do was nod in recognition to his words. He ushered me outside and I saw that it was Himchan’s car that was waiting for us. He nodded toward the passenger seat and strode off quickly to take his place in the driver’s spot. I moved slower, not as awed by the beauty of the outside as I thought I would be after the boring surroundings I had spent the last 48 hours in.

Once I was in the car Jongup waited briefly for me to buckle my safety belt before pulling out into the street. “I don’t know what to do. He’s a mess right now. What’s he supposed to do when he can’t see you anymore? He’s completely wrapped around you,” Jongup mused in the silent car. I still didn’t speak for a long time. It was raining that fall day, and the sky turned the city grey. It was aptly fitting for the feelings that hung in the air. So many people continued, passing by without a care, while our lives continued to unravel with each violent tug life threw at us.

“He’ll live,” I said after a while. Jongup through me a disbelieving glance but I smiled to him. “He’s a stronger boy than he knows. We had our fairy tale, and his prince is going to leave him, but you know Junhong, he’ll say ‘ the system’ and become his own prince. He’ll pick up his pieces and show the world just how strong he really is.” I firmly believed in the words that left my mouth that day. Jongup looked more skeptical, but I knew Junhong better than anyone else, including himself. I knew he’d want to fall to the floor and die when it came time for our final goodbye, but I also knew after the hurt in his turbulent heart settled, he’d emerge as a bigger man than most.

The rest of the ride was quiet save for the soft prattle of rain on glass. I watched the beads slowly travel the path ways of their short lives, twisting, twirling, and melding together with others. It was perplexing, in a way. I had never been a man to get caught up in somber things, but that day I watched them, affiliated with them, and was nearly moved to tears with the deep thoughts of a life, so short and innocent, coming to an end. They were rain drops. Just rain drops.

Himchan was waiting for us in his fancy high rise apartment, and the fact that Jongup had a key didn’t slip past me. Himchan was going over paperwork at the table. Without an exchange of words, Jongup went to fill up his emptied coffee mug and slice up some fruit for him. He didn’t speak to me, so I didn’t say anything. I slipped off my shoes and stepped into the familiar apartment, watching as Jongup placed the snack and beverage beside my friend (if I could still call him that) and organized a few of the scattered papers. He doted on him carefully, but never once did he touch Himchan.

After he placed the papers aside he looked at me with his piercing eyes and drew his lips into a thin line. He motioned for me to take a seat and Jongup disappeared toward the laundry room. He was no longer employed under Himchan, I was sure, but the sheer lack of affection between the two confused me. When I had left they had definitely been in a ual relationship, as well as close friends. They were well on their way to boyfriends, I had been sure, but now Himchan coldly ignored his every action. Just how much had changed since we’d been gone, I wondered.

“This mess is getting deeper,” Himchan announced as I sat down. “Junhong’s being difficult with his testimony,” he elaborated, taking a long sip from the coffee the other had prepared. I nodded, having expected nothing less. Junhong was as stubborn as a mule, and had the bite of a rattle snake. Those were two of the endearing qualities I had fallen so in love with over the near year I spent with the boy. Himchan’s eyes narrowed at me as he placed the glass mug back on the table.

“Would you say you value our friendship?” he asked suddenly. I rolled my eyes.

“Himchan, you know the answer to that question.”

“Because, I’ve been wondering that as of late. Do you realize what you’ve done for me? What sort of situation you’ve put me in? Of course you don’t, rhetorical question, but allow me to lay it out quite clearly and simply for you.” Himchan, when upset, spoke in pointed words with a rapid fire pace I had never come to appreciate very much. “What have I been working for since I was eighteen years old? That’s right, to become a judge. I studied my off, I kissed more than I cared to admit, and had my handed to me time and time again by the Choi family. I need that connection, Yongguk. I need this. It’s all I’ve ever wanted; it’s the only path I can imagine. It’s the only thing that’ll get my parents off my back. It’s the only thing that’s going to give me my own life again.”

I didn’t interrupt him, and let him go on and on. I knew this, but I had never seen Himchan speak so openly about what his goal meant to him. He had decided on it our first year of middle school, and finalized it in our last year of highschool. I had bounced around different ideas, but Himchan’s only choice had always to become a judge. He had to get to the top, I knew, otherwise he may as well have been a bottom feeder. It was all or nothing with Himchan.

“If I lose this connection, I lose it all,” he stipulated, looking at me intensely. I nodded. “I’m going to destroy your lawyer, and consequently, you, Yongguk.” A tenseness sat in the air, slowly constricting around the both of us until it felt as though the air had become thinner. I had brought this upon myself, so I could only nod.

“I saw this coming,” he added, letting his eyes drift down to the apple slices that had been neat cut for him. “I knew from the way he looked at you that he’d get you. Eyes like that… People with eyes like that know how to get what they want. I tried so hard to keep you away from it, Yongguk. I never wanted to do this. I didn’t want to have to become your enemy.” Himchan’s face was stern, and his voice steady, but I knew this meant he was falling apart. Without it showing on the outside, he was breaking down right in front of me.

“It’s okay,” he told him after a bit. He didn’t look at me, but I saw his shoulders go rigid.

“I accepted this the day I ran away with him. Hell, I accepted it the day I accepted the job,” I promised him. I reached out to squeeze his shoulder. He didn’t pull back, but he also didn’t relax under my touch. I smiled to him—something I found much easier to do than I had expected—and said my good bye to my best friend. I didn’t say the words; we didn’t embrace; but the meaning was all the same. That would be the last day I could call Kim Himchan my friend.

If I hadn’t known him better, I would say I had seen a tear roll down his pale cheek that day. But I did know him better, and if I were to say such a thing I’d get the nastiest glare the universe could hold. So, I saw no tears on his cheek, and he cried no tears for our dissolving bond. Jongup stayed in the laundry room for a long time, and Himchan offered me his guest bedroom. I suppose, in the end, this was the last act of friendliness I would receive from him, but it was also a strategic move. If I lived with him until the trial there was no way I could sneak off and see Junhong and jeopardize it all.

I slept the rest of the day away, and Himchan practiced a closing statement to an attentive Jongup. I only caught a glimpse of their exchanges when I woke up to pee, but what I saw was a terribly sad thing. Jongup had gone to place an arm around Himchan but he had turned coldly away. He pushed him off, brushed him off, and swept him away. The look on Jongup’s face was one of cinematic heartbreak. I felt for him, the poor thing, but it lasted only a moment as he soon wore a smile, brushing off Himchan’s reaction as his own stupidity.

Junhong and I had once been that way. The stubborn pulling away; the intensive selfcontrol; the eternal game of cat and mouse; they were clearly in love. Himchan, of course, was too stubborn to admit to such feelings, and Jongup was too gentle to assert himself the way Junhong had. I was no longer in a position to shake some sense into either of them. I was simply a tenant in the home of the opposing lawyer who wanted to split me apart from the person I loved. Looking back, it would have made a great sitcom.

My story with Junhong was rapidly coming to an end, but I instead felt sadness for Himchan and Jongup’s which would be laced with tragic miscommunication. It was as though all the hurt I should have been feeling with my situation was delayed; as if it was waiting behind the corner, waiting to jump on me when I was at my weakest. I didn’t mind, however. Drowsily, I returned to the guest bed and put off the panic for another day. I, instead, lived in my memories, feeling phantom fingers tracing over my skin, and ghost lips trailing down my neck. Junhong was with me, even if his physical self was some many miles away, and it was through that I managed to continue on.

Looking up at the ceiling in the dark room at some strange hour of the night after Jongup had surely disappeared to return to his humble abode, I smiled. There wasn’t a moment where I hadn’t been able to smile since we parted, and I wondered if he had found a single reason to do so. He was really a fragile hearted child, one that needed to be handled with care, and I doubted that he’d receive that where he was. I would have loved to hold him softly and tenderly, the way he deserved, but it wasn’t up to me anymore.

Junhong was about to be tossed into the hardest situation of his life thus far, and unfortunately, he was more or less on his own. It tugged on my heart strings, but I smiled nonetheless. Even with tears in my eyes, I smiled. In the end, Junhong was loved by me and by everyone so dearly, and he had no idea. I hoped that after I was gone he’d come to notice it a bit more. I prayed to a god I had never worshipped that he would be able to find strength in them; that, for the first time in his life, Junhong felt at home in his own home. I had tried to take him away and make him a home, but fate had clearly vetoed that effort.

That night, I gazed at the sky, unable to see the stars the way we could in Busan, but I squinted and tried even so. I had a feeling, just a hunch, that Junhong was searching for those stars that night as well. He had never known the stars that resided in his eyes, or the fact that they’d always be with him, but he had many years to learn those things. That night, I truly came to understand the fragile childhood I had interrupted, and I atoned for stealing it away from those who truly deserved to be a part of it by complacently accepting my final bow.

That night, I said good bye to Junhong as well. I locked him firmly into the chambers of my heart, where he’d live with his imagined touches and dream kisses for the rest of my life, I was sure. I had been on a crazy road, lost my sanity, and given it all away to a child; but I stood there at the window that night without a single regret. I purged them that night as well as my feelings of love and adoration. A fervent flame became a softly glowing ember, and I accepted my fight. That would be the last night I would be the man Junhong had made me.  

I was reminded of the rain drops; like them we were people. Just people, born in love, and dying on the lips of lovers in our parting kisses. 

A:N// Remember that this story is not over until I mark it as such! The ending to this chapter and the next may imply that is has ended, but trust me when I say there's a more complete ending coming your way!