I had always believed in the cyclization of life; in the unknown, the vast spiritual otherness of our existence, the transience and meaningless blink of one life that spills into the next without interruption—why else would I be doing this? Why else would I go and search for her like Orpheus, who sang his wife’s name down into the bowels of hell in order to recover her? This was also the extent of my love and devotion. It was an admirable thing, not a coward’s way—or so I thought at the time, because it was what I truly needed to believe in most.

             Still, feeling her presence in this person I did not know made me question my beliefs for the first time. If she was here, how could I possibly find her beyond? And if she was truly a part of this person—how was it possible for her to be reborn so quickly? And in an adult male who looked to be in their late twenties?

            “I heard it was your birthday,” he said, as calmly as if was the most normal reaction in the world.

            “So?”

            He smiled again. It made me uncomfortable to see it. Then he held out his right hand, a mint-colored envelope clenched between his fingers. “I brought you something.”

            “Why?”

            “It’s nothing offensive, sir. Just something small. I notice you’re always here, working late. It made me sad to think you’d be here tonight, of all nights…”

            “I don’t even know who you are.” This was what came to mind as a first response. Never mind that I was still standing there, a very literal noose around my neck. “Why would you care?”

            This was a question it seemed he’d rather not answer. “Because I’m a human being?” he resigned to say.

            “Are you?” I ask like the strange person that I am. “Are you a human being?”

            “Last I checked.” 

            He didn't even flinch. We were now at a stalemate of sorts. 

            “It’s okay, right?” He was gesturing with his eyes that he wanted to come closer. I was so honestly surprised by him that I just stood there on the desk, aloof, as he did as he pleased anyway. When he was close enough, he handed me the envelope, which I hesitantly leaned down to accept. I had to remove the noose from its place in order to do so.  

             I slid a solitary finger into the corner and ripped open the seam. It was easy to make out the contents with a simple effort. I didn't bother to remove it all the way. “A… birthday card?”

            He nodded. “Nothing much, like I said.”

            I was still in shock over why he did this; I really didn’t care what it was. “How come…?”

            “I knew you’d be here alone. Like always. No one should have to be alone on their birthday.”

            “I want to be alone.”

            “Do you? You seem lonely to me,” he said with a shrug. “And it’s never good for a lonely person to stay alone by choice.”

            “Why do you care?” I ask for the second time, expecting a credible answer.

            “Is it burdensome that I do?”

            “I’m about to end my life—you know this, right? It’s only going to burden you to be with me now.”

            He stared into my eyes, those black orbs piercing yet kind. “You won’t die.”

            I felt nervous around him; for whatever reason and beyond any explanation I could muster. How could a person be so unmoved under these kinds of circumstances? “How do you know?”

            “Because,” he said, “you would have done it already.”

            “We’re talking.”

            “If you really meant it, you would have done it before I even set foot in this door.”

            Was he trying to push me?

            Something about him…

            “I don’t want to be rude,” was the only answer I could think of, sounding ridiculous even to me.

            "Well, I suppose it would be quite rude to hang yourself in the middle of a conversation..."

            Was he toying with me? Making this a game? Somehow, this kid had turned the situation and the conversation completely in his favor. It was like he had control over me. I didn’t understand it. Was it her? Was it my wife? She was like that too—in-charge, sharp-tongued, yet well-meaning. She also had a hold on me—and in return, I doted excessively upon her. I would have given her everything her heart desired…

            “What’s your name?” I tried again; I felt a sudden need to know it. Had he answered my wife’s name, I would have half expected it. However, instead he answered:

            “Lee, sir. Lee Taemin.”

            “What do you do here? Have I seen you before?” The second question was as good as a lie; I already knew that I had. At least in the recent months.

            He was now sitting on the edge of my desk, as casually as if we were in a café. I hadn’t even realized till just then…

            This strange creature…

            “Oh, you wouldn’t know me,” was Taemin’s reply. “I’m insignificant. Just an intern now, sir, but one day I’ll be successful like you.”        

            “How long have you been here?”

            “Long enough.”

            I was speechless now. I had no idea what to do or say next. He had single-handedly derailed my focus.

            “Sir—hyung—”

            “'Hyung'? Bwo?”

            Why is he speaking to me like this?

            “May I call you that?”

            I guess it didn’t really matter what he called me in my final moments, right…? “How old are you?”

            “I’m twenty-seven.”

            “I guess it's appropriate… while it lasts.”

            “While it lasts?”

            “My time here.”

            He smiled again, his face brightening. “You’ll be here a long time, I’m sure. I saved you—don’t you know?”

            “You haven’t saved anything,” I scoffed.

           This cocky kid…  

           What does he want?

            “Oh? Then why are you sitting, hyung?”

            I was. I was sitting next to him on the desk. How had this happened? I was so unconscious of myself whenever he spoke I hadn’t even noticed. This kid had completely captivated my attention…

            “Come have a drink with me,” he added then.

            God only knows why I didn’t outright reject his offer. I looked at him then, that strange beauty of his looking back at me like he already knew the answer to every question. He was a man, but it was hard not to see my wife’s shadow over him: behind his eyes; in the creases of his smile; in the fair, porcelain skin…

            He was lovely.

            Just like her.

            I felt calm when I looked at him—he has some weird pacifying effect. But no matter how he intrigued me, I couldn't help but resist him just the same.

            He is not your wife. That's not even possible. It doesn't make sense. 

            “Come on, hyung. I have a feeling you’ve not talked to someone in a very long time.”

            “How do you know?”

            “That you have secrets?” he said easily. "Who doesn't?"

            "Do you?"

             "Sure." He shrugged, but I could tell that this made him somewhat uncomfortable. “It’s not good to be alone, hyung. Not all the time. Drink with me. Tell me about the things you’ve kept to yourself—anything you want. Anything at all. I won’t judge you, and you won’t shock me—obviously…” Taemin smirked as the last word left his lips.          

             I didn’t want to cross into the next year this way—live another year with this grief, with this curse of mortality hanging over me; that was the very reason I chose my birthday for this passage from one plane to the next. But this kid, this boy, this somehow-agent from beyond, was confusing my mind. Was it her? Or was I simply so lonely for her that he became like her in my eyes?

            He's just a nobody. A nobody with good intentions...

            “You can always kill yourself later,” Taemin finally added with a shrug, and then stood to his feet, beckoning for me to do the same. And I did—without even thinking it through, I did. “I mean, if you're really set on it, I can't stop you. What’s one drink going to hurt? It’s your birthday, hyung. Let’s celebrate it together... at least while it lasts.”

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A/N:

Just like that, Taemin was able to "talk Minho down" from taking his own life without him even noticing what was happening. There must really be something special about him, though I doubt we can really trust Minho's perspective just yet. He may or may not feel differently if he knew Taemin's 'secrets.' It's still too early to know for sure! 

Thank you all for believing in this fic so early! I was amazed by the number up subs and upvotes and awesome comments for the first chapter. It made my heart all fluffeh~ I hope that you continue to like this story. I'll do my best. :)  

Best, UnnieM ♥