It was nearing midnight, the last icy night of the school year. I stood at the edge of the roof, leaning against the railing that separated our graduating class from the pavement 200 feet below, gazing out across campus. My nearly empty beer was sitting next to my elbow, sweating onto the cool stone, kept company by the last three bottles I’d drained. A crisp breeze ruffled my hair and I shivered a little.

That wind was really affecting my buzz.

“Hey, old man,” a voice slurred to my left. A fellow student, someone I doubt I’d ever had any contact with whatsoever, sauntered up and leaned over the railing, nearly dropping his red Solo cup into the abyss. “Finally made it, huh?”

“Yup,” I replied flatly, finishing my beer and reaching for another from the cooler by my feet.

“Just how old are you anyway?” the boy asked, leaning closer to me. His eyes were bloodshot. “Like, medieval or what?”

“Twenty–four,” I lied. No need to confess my real age, 28, to this random guy I’d most definitely never see again.

“Damn, son.” He laughed and bobbed his head, stopping quickly and looking slightly sick. “Why’d you even do this? Four ing years for what?”

“For love,” I told him honestly. “For myself. For my parents. Because I needed to prove I could do something that wasn’t a total disappointment.”

The drunk boy held a slightly glazed look for a second before shaking his head. “That’s some deep . If you did this for your love, where is she? Is she hot?”

“She’s beautiful,” I said with a hollow smile. The very thought of her made my heart ache. The greatest sacrifice I’d made by leaving my family in Seoul and coming to college in New York City had been leaving her behind and the very thought of how she would have changed made my heart heavy. I desperately wanted to call her, but what was the point?

So I did what any man would do –– I drowned my sorrows in alcohol.

I was still completely smashed when I got to my hotel room, stumbling around the halls and trying to figure out where the hell my room was. Then there was a great struggle to locate my key and insert it in the lock and such nonsense every drunk has to deal with. It wasn’t until I’d gotten done with all that that I picked up the hotel phone and dialed the familiar number.

I got the answering machine and cleared my throat before saying in my most sober voice (considering the seven beers and innumerable shots) –– “Hey, Mae, it’s me."

“I know you probably don’t even remember me, I know.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand in my hair. The phone felt like a lead weight in my hand.

“I...I miss you, Mae. Probably the hardest thing about this has been missing you, not being able to see you. I can’t even tell you how miserable it’s been. Here it’s like I’m invisible. Old and alone. I wish I could have brought you with me, but it just wouldn’t have worked. God, please remember me.”

My voice had started to shake. My palm was sweaty against my forehead. I was hunched over, my nose barely six inches from my knees. My throat was aching terribly –– had I been yelling earlier? Everything was so hazy...

“I just need you to know that I ing love you, okay? I know I’m far away and you’ve probably got a life separate from me, a life with him. I know I ed up so, so bad. But please be there when I get home? I mean it this time. I’m coming home, Mae.”

I choked on my words as my stomach lurched. For an awful second, I thought I was going to be sick. Then the wave of nausea passed and I swallowed hard before continuing.

“I love you, Mae, okay? And, baby, if you’re listening, I’ll be home soon. I love you. So ing much."

“So ing much.”

. . .

Getting completely faced really isn’t worth the hangover you’ll have the next day when you have to get up before 3 a.m. to catch a flight. A shower sobered me up more than the fleeting hours of sleep had, as well as a hot coffee from the diner by the airport.

My stomach churned as I realized what was happening –– I was going home. After over an entire year away, I was going to see my Mae again. I didn’t expect forgiveness –– from either of them, really –– but I tried to keep myself from going to that dark place in the back of my mind.

It was still early in Seoul, not even 5 yet, and I knew it would be smarter to wait until the afternoon, but I couldn’t stop myself from pulling up to the house I had once called my home. The house I wasn’t sure I was still welcome in. The living room light was on.

My stomach twisted painfully as I stepped out of my car, leaving my luggage just in case. The gravel crunched under my feet as I made my way up the drive. There was a flicker of movement behind the living room curtains. Still I moved forward.

The front door opened while I was still eight feet away. There he was, his tall, muscular frame taking up most of the doorway. His brilliant grey eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep, his light brown hair disheveled much like his pajamas. But he was still beautiful, painfully so.

“Jonguppie,” I said weakly, unsure whether I was welcome or not.

“Hey, Himchan,” came his soft reply. He crossed his arms over his chest, causing his biceps to look extra buff. I swallowed hard.

“Hi,” I managed.

Jongup’s expression was hard to read in the darkness. He strode to the end of the porch, jumped the two steps to the ground. His voice was calm and controlled as he said, “I expected you hours ago.”

“I, um. There weren’t any flights yesterday. I took the 4:00 and, well, it was surprisingly crowded. I, um, called but, yeah. But I just had to see you as soon as possible and––”

By this time, Jongup was only a few inches in front of me, looking impressively muscular in comparison to my slender frame. I felt incredibly small as he looked down at me, although not as much as usual, as I seemed to have somehow grown a few inches over the past year.

“––and I, uh, was hesitant to come. I didn’t want to bother you or Mae, but I had to come. I had to see you and––”

“God, you talk too much,” Jongup said simply.

Then he took my face in his hands and crashed his lips against mine.

Without even realizing it, I looped my arms around his shoulders, melting into him like we’d never been apart. Like we’d never fought at all or spent half a year not speaking. We were together, the way we were meant to be.

He broke away from me, grinned devilishly, and dragged me into the house, kicking the door shut behind us and pinning me against it.

After several more long minutes of kissing –– and some mild touching in places –– I broke away and said breathlessly, “So...you got my message?”

“And listened to it about a hundred times,” Jongup muttered, moving to kiss my neck.

But I wasn’t going to be distracted any longer. “I need to see her.”

The mood immediately changed. Jongup backed away, but only far enough to look me in the eye.

“I’m afraid,” I confessed.

“Of what?” he asked, reaching out to brush his rough fingertips lightly across my cheek.

“That she won’t remember me.”

At this, Jongup took my face in his hands and kissed me softly. Then whispered, “She will.”

Before I could protest, Jongup had taken my hand and was leading me down the familiar hallway and up the stairs, stopping at last door outside of Mae’s bedroom. The lights were off here. Jongup pushed open the door, but didn’t follow me in.

The room had changed drastically. The furniture was rearranged, some gone or replaced. A twin bed sat under the window, a small lump under the covers. My heart fluttered in my chest and it was nearly impossible to drag my heavy feet across the floor until I was right by the bed.

The sweetest little head was perched on the pillow, the rest of her body hidden by the Powerpuff Girls blankets. She had dark hair like me and her pale skin seemed to shine from the faint sunlight starting to peek through the windows, just like mine.

My knees seemed to buckle as I looked down at the beautiful girl that had changed so much since the last time I saw her. The girl I’d left behind was tiny and fragile and had just been learning to form words and carry herself around without falling. The girl before me now was practically a little person, with a defined little face and an actual hair style and a bedroom for a little girl instead of a tiny baby.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped my palms on my jeans before reaching out to touch that porcelain skin. The touch seemed to rouse her and she opened her little eyes, revealing vivid grey irises. Identical to mine.

“Daddy?” she said after taking a moment to wake up and observe me. Her little voice was thick with sleepiness. It was more sure than it had been a year ago, when putting two words together was a struggle.

“Hey, Mae,” I choked out. My eyes felt hot and watery, but I brushed away the moisture. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m home.”

In a spontaneous gesture, I bent over her and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. But before I could step away, she’d propped herself up on one little hand and had brought her free arm around my neck.

I scooped her up into my arms then, letting her hug me to her little heart’s content. She was heavier than before, having grown nearly twice as big. But I didn’t mind the extra weight –– all that mattered was that she was in my arms.

After a lot of hugging, and several tears on my part, Jongup and I got Mae back into bed and tucked her in. I stepped out into the hall and Jongup followed, closing the door gently behind us. He followed me downstairs, where I stopped by the hall table, where the light on the answering machine read one new message.

“I take it Mae hasn’t heard this?” I asked, gesturing to the machine.

“Duh.”

With a small smile, I pressed the DELETE button and heard the satisfying beep as the message was erased forever.

“Do me a favor,” Jongup said then, wrapping one arm around my waist and leading me toward the couch.

“Okay, what?”

He grinned and shook his head. “Next time you decide to drunk dial someone, call your dad. I’d love to see the –awed look on his face as you proclaimed your sincere love for the old bastard.”

I laughed for what felt like the first time in years. “I’ll try to remember that.”

It was just like I’d never left. The love was still there, maybe it had been all along. It had brought me home. It had waited for me. They had waited.

And I’d be waiting the rest of my life for a way to thank them enough.

Total Word Count; 1,956
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