“It's cold.”
Home
Home.
Junhong wasn't sure he knew what that word meant. He had never had a home. He had never had a family who loved and cared for him. He was always moved around. Nobody ever kept him long, always switched to different foster homes or families. He would scoff at those words. They shouldn't be called 'homes' or 'families' because they were nothing like that.
When he thought of homes, he thought of a loving mother and a hard working father. He thought of a warm home full of love and happiness, maybe a sibling or two.
He shivered at the cold seeping through his thin jacket. He didn't care as he lightly swung back and forth on the swing. He looked over at the stranger who sat on the swing beside him. This stranger did this every night and neither ever said a word to each other. The only thing he knew was the stranger was definitely older than him.
They would occasionally exchange glances. Those glances seemed more meaningful than words.
Part of him wanted to know who this stranger was. But, Junhong was afraid that maybe the stranger would disappear. He didn't want to become friends with him. He knew that the stranger would disappear if he did. He was fond of this stranger. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because the stranger radiated a warmth he'd never felt before.
“It's cold.”
The deep voice surprised him. He looked at the stranger, wondering if he'd just made up that voice or not. The stranger was still staring forward, his face partially hidden by the hood of his jacket. He looked forward again, nodding his head ever so slightly.
He wanted to hear his voice again. He wanted to get to know this person who would sit on the swings in the playground for hours and hours with him. But, he didn't want the stranger to disappear. So, he stayed quiet.
The wind blew and he shivered. He wanted this though. He liked feeling the cold nipping at his skin, the numbness that eventually came felt good to him. Even though he felt cold and numb, he felt alive like this. He swung higher and closed his eyes.
The stranger looked over at him and Junhong slowed down. They met eyes. He looked away and reached into his coat jacket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lighter; the younger of the two never taking his eyes off of him.
He took a long drag on his cigarette.
Junhong watched as the smoke swirled in the air. It wasn't a terrible smell.
“Want one?” The stranger asked.
He was surprised by the question. He nodded. He hesitantly took the lighter and cigarette from the man's hands. The stranger was watching as he fumbled with it for a moment, before finally getting it lit. He couldn't help but quietly chuckle as Junhong cringed and coughed, throwing the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it before giving him back his lighter.
Silence filled the air again. It was comfortable. It was always comfortable.
“What is your name?” The stranger asked.
“Junhong.” He replied after a moment of hesitation. They'd been doing this almost every night for three months now. Maybe it was time to at least know each other's names. He had wondered for a long time what the stranger's name could possibly be. But, he didn't want to ask. He hoped the stranger would just tell him.
“Junhong.” He repeated.
Junhong didn't know why his heart beat faster than it had in years. He didn't know why he wanted this stranger to say his name, over and over again. But he did and it scared him. He stood up from the swing and decided it was time to go back to his current foster home.
“Yongguk.” The stranger said as he started to walk away. “My name is Bang Yongguk.”
He just continued walking.
- - - - - - - - -
He had avoided coming to the playground for a while. He missed it. He felt like he couldn't breathe in this 'home' and he knew if he didn't get out it would be bad. He would lose his temper and take it out of this family.
They were always watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. They didn't care about him. He was their maid and a source of money. He could hear their insults repeat round and round in his head. He tried. He really tried. He wanted to be accepted by them but no matter what he did, it was never enough.
He thought back to the only foster home he'd ever grown fond of. It was the home of a little old lady who'd lost her son and husband in a wreck. That was the first foster mother to ever show him true love. He thought maybe it was just because she was so lonely. He knew he was just a replacement for her real son.
Right when Junhong felt like he was starting to have a decent life, she died and everything started over again.
He quietly pulled up the window in his bedroom. He had carefully climbed out and stepped onto the air conditioner before jumping to the ground. To be honest, he didn't care if he was ever caught or not. He'd been caught before. It was scary the first time, maybe even the second time but it wasn't anymore. All they could do was move him to another home. He didn't care.
The park wasn't far from his current house. He walked towards the swings and sat down.
Bang Yongguk wasn't there but that wasn't surprising. He didn't show up until a few minutes after Junhong. He'd wondered how the stranger always knew when he was there. He looked around at the nice apartments, figuring he must live in one of those buildings that surrounded the playground.
And like always, Yongguk came a little while later, taking a seat on the other swing. Neither said a thing but that was normal. He watched Yongguk from the corner of his eye.
His stomach suddenly growled. He looked over at the man, wondering if he'd heard and judging by his smile, he had.
“Want to get something to eat?” He asked.
Junhong his lips as he thought about it. His foster mother wasn't giving him very much food. He was hungry. His stomach was burning and twisting in pain. He nodded his head.
He found himself sitting across the table in a McDonald's with the stranger. He wondered if he could still call this man a stranger. He murmured a soft 'thanks' as Yongguk placed a bag of food in front of him.
Yongguk watched as he ate. He was eating slowly. It almost seemed like Junhong was trying to savor it and enjoy the food as much as he possibly could. He rested his knuckles against his cheek. He was itching for a cigarette since he hadn't had one since he'd come home from work.
He had honestly thought he'd never see Junhong again after that last meeting. He had barely been able to focus on his work because he would be looking out the window of his apartment towards the playground for this young man. Yongguk thought back to the first time he'd come to join the younger boy.
Junhong had barely even reacted to him sitting down on the other swing. He had wanted to say something but nothing would come out. It didn't feel awkward or tense either. It was comfortable. He liked being with the younger even if they never said anything to each other. It was only recently that Junhong would actually make eye contact with him.
His eyes had surprised Yongguk. The first time he'd met eyes with Junhong his breath was taken away. Because of the amount of anger in them. It had scared him at first. But as they continued to make eye contact he was able to see a lot more emotions in them. He could now see past the anger and see just how bad he was hurting.
Junhong looked at the wedding ring on Yongguk's finger. He suddenly felt a pang of jealously run through him; his appetite was suddenly gone.
Yongguk followed his eyes. He stared at his wedding ring for a moment. “She's dead.” He said after a moment.
The younger looked at him in interest.
“She died in a crash only a few months after we'd gotten married.”
“. . . Do you still love her?” Junhong asked.
He looked at Junhong thoughtfully. He nodded slowly and things went quiet.
“What about you?” Yongguk asked. He wanted to know more about the younger. "Do you have anyone?"
Junhong tensed up and he regretted asking. But, to his surprise, the younger actually answered his question.
“My mother died. I've never had a father.” He replied. “She died when I was a baby. I never knew her.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.” He replied. He looked expectantly at Yongguk.
“I'm twenty two.”
Junhong looked at him thoughtfully. “You got married really young.”
He nodded slowly. “She was my high school sweetheart.” He sighed softly. “I loved her a lot. But, she was the one pressuring me into marriage. I think she thought it would save our relationship.”
“Save your relationship?” He repeated.
“I was falling out of love with her. When I think about it now, there was just. . . something always missing.” He looked Junhong in the eyes. “Are you alone too?”
Junhong nodded.
“Let's be friends.” Yongguk held out his hand.
“Friends?” The younger repeated, looking at his hand hesitantly.
“Friends.”
Junhong looked at the man sitting across from him. It was scary to him. No one had ever wanted to be his friend before. He was scared. But, then he thought about how nice it would be to have just one friend in this world. He reached over the table and his heart sped up as their hands touched.
The warmth from the older man's hands felt good on his own icy cold hands.
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