Changmin stood up, fixing his jacket. His secretary had just stepped in to inform him that the meeting was about to commence. All the big shareholders were there, to be informed of the fact that a big part of the shares had recently been bought by Tasaki Atsushi, but will be under the name Shim Changmin, the Japanese honcho’s grandson.

This was unexpected, to say the least, to most shareholders. Changmin’s succession to the Shim coglomerate was not to be until his father stepped down, but with this new occurring, Changmin had become the third biggest shareholder at the mere age of 20, and not really under the name of a Shim - he was to assume this position in the shareholders’ board as a member of the Tasaki clan. Some pessimists saw this as the danger of the Shim group being swallowed by the Tasaki group. The optimists, or people with more inner information, knew better. The fact that Changmin’s grandfather set him up in this position was to create him a tie with the Tasakis in Japan, and showed the ambition to turn the Tasaki-Shim union into the strongest one in Asia under the leadership of Changmin, when the time came for the heir to take up the head position of the Tasaki clan too.

To Changmin himself, he really had no choice. This move by his grandfather was to force him to really concentrate in business, and now for Changmin there was no way to back up. The powerful honcho stood behind his part of the round desk, looking pleasedly at his grandson, but it was a look that couldn’t be changed.

Under the flashing lights from the press, Changmin pushed up the sunglasses to cover his eyes, and got inside the limousine that was waiting outside the Shim headquarters. In less than 1 hour, probably the whole business world would know about this news. Afternoon newspapers would let this on their pages and Changmin would be even less of a free agent than he already was.

 Under all this pressure, the only comfort for Changmin was the thought that later that evening, he could go back to be in the same house as Junsu. He could taste Junsu’s cooking skills, could listen to Junsu practising on his piano, could do his work with the comforting knowledge that Junsu was nearby. He knew that the fact was not ideal as all these sounded, considering that Junsu had not really accepted him back. Junsu never said to him more than 5 words at the time, but Changmin knew he couldn’t demand more. He had made Junsu suffer and now he had to patiently win Junsu back. He just needed to be near Junsu.

What he didn’t think was that, Junsu wasn’t there that evening. Changmin came back to the apartment at 6pm, stepping into the house without the feeling and warmth of Junsu waiting there. The air was cold and it was coal dark when Changmin opened the door, that it startled the heir.

Changmin walked inside, removed his shoes. He ended up having to cook dinner for himself because Junsu was not back even at 8pm. He had no idea when Junsu was to come home, even had no way to contact the pianist because Junsu didn’t give Changmin his new cell number.

Changmin thought hard about where the pianist possibly was then. And for a moment, he couldn’t breathe because a sudden fear sprang up inside him. Had Junsu left him again? His heart just ceased beating for some seconds. The heir frantically turned ran inside Junsu’s room without its occupant’s permission. He violently opened the closet, to find out Junsu’s clothes were still there.

Junsu hadn’t left.

Changmin let out a sigh of relief. It was then that he started to look around, and scolded himself for having been so scared that he had lost his reason just to observe a little bit more. The big luggage was still under Junsu’s bed, some music sheets were on the nightstand, and books were scattered around. Junsu was messy when it came to books. Junsu was still here.

The drum of his heart subsided, and Changmin suddenly felt the silence around him, the way he had never before. It was not merely auditory silence, it was something more. It was emptiness. Was this what it was like when Junsu wasn’t by his side? Changmin breathed out difficultly. It was the same as when Junsu had not been here, during the one month interval of his absence. When Junsu was not around, Changmin just wasn’t himself. He was miserable.

But someone just started knocking on the door. Changmin rushed outside to answer it.

The first thing his eyes emt with when the door was opened was Park Yoochun’s face. Changmin was surprised. He didn’t know what to do when confronted by Yoochun this way. The politician’s eyes met his calmly, making Changmin look down to avoid it.

Then Changmin felt his heart crumbled, when he saw what, or more exactly whom, Yoochun was having in his arms. Junsu was fast asleep, carried by Yoochun like a baby. The sight was so peaceful and at the same time, so hurtful to Changmin that he just stood there for a minute.

Then Yoochun’s voice woke him up to reality. “Can you let us in?” Yoochun said. Changmin looked up again. The young politician was in a blue shirt, his jacket covered Junsu to keep the younger male warm in his arms. Yoochun’s wavy hair was shoulder-length, the sides covering the high and aristocratic cheekbones of his, the bangs on his dreamy eyes. This was the man that had been by Junsu’s side since Junsu had stepped into life 8 years ago and was someone Changmin just couldn’t compete with, when all Changmin had given Junsu was pain. Changmin was aware of this and it gave Changmin’s heart an acute pain.

But Changmin mentally scolded himself. Junsu had to be taken care of, that was the priority, and not Changmin’s pitiful but deservingly wounded heart. Changmin stepped aside, watching Yoochun turn his body so as to carry Junsu in without letting anything hard collide on the pianist’s body.

“He got drunk,” said Yoochun while tucking Junsu under a blanket on the rug and pillows of the living room, that Changmin had just arranged, “Something really bothered him today. So he called me to come to Yunho’s bar with him and just got himself tanked up there.”

Something had upset Junsu? Changmin felt bad. He wanted to know what the upsetting thing was. Whatever it was, he wanted to solve it for Junsu. He wanted Junsu to be free from all worries, wanted him to be happy.

But at the same time, it was not him whom Junsu had called to drink with. It had been Yoochun whom Junsu had turned to, whom Junsu would always turn to. The thought was too much and the sight of Yoochun staying next to Junsu, looking at the pianist tenderly was also too much, so Changmin stood up and walked out to the balcony.

He took a Mild Seven pack out from his pocket, and kindled a cigarrette. Inhaling a deep smoke, he allowed his mind to go empty. He looked at the city under and above his eye level: the road with trails of cars like trails of ants, and the windows of skyscrapers. Seoul was one manifestation of capitalism and money, the very things Changmin was made of, but sometimes this part of him made him hate himself.

Changmin heard a sliding sound behind, and he looked back. Park Yoochun was making his way out to the balcony. The Park heir smiled at Changmin a tired smile, “Smoking? Can I have one?”

Changmin didn’t say anything. He took out a cigarrette and leaned in to light it up for Yoochun. Soon the two men were there, trails of smoke came out frequently from their mouths.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” said Changmin.

“Uh-huh,” Yoochun cleared his throat after drawing a satisfying breath, “So you live with Junsu now?”

Changmin’s feet grinded the ground. “...I’m just a passer-by, whom he took in out of pity. That’s all.”

If it had been a month ago, Changmin would have said or fabricated something more than that so Yoochun would know and stay away from Junsu, but now he knew better. He was just a passer-by, no more, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

 “So you’re also taking up the Tasaki empire? Congratulations.” The politician changed the subject faster than someone changed TV channels. Changmin didn’t know whether it was something worth congratulations, but he accepted it with grace. “Thank you.”

They fell back into silence, quietly finishing their cigarrettes. After that, Yoochun threw the inside a bin and said, “It’s time I leave.”

They walked inside again, and to the door. Changmin opened it and Yoochun walked out.

Watching the politician’s back receding to the dark corridor, two hands in two pockets, somehow Changmin felt the hatred and jealously for Yoochun had vanished. There was only a vacant sadness present inside him.

Changmin went inside, intended to take Junsu in his bedroom. But to his surprise the pianist was having his eyes open and directed at Changmin.

“You’re awake?” Changmin said after a moment.

“Yeah.”

Junsu sat up. Still, just a short answer. It hurt Changmin but the heir ignored that. He went and fetched Junsu a cup of water. “Drink this,” said he, without looking at Junsu’s eyes. Looking at Junsu’s eyes reminded him of the unbreakable bond between Junsu and Yoochun, and Changmin knew his position was to not complain. It didn’t mean he couldn’t feel hurt.

“You should go and sleep on your bed, it’s cold here.”

Changmin was about to leave to make the bed for Junsu when he heard the pianist said suddenly,  “I crave tteokbokki.”

“Huh?” Changmin turned back, wasn’t sure he heard right.

“I want tteokbokki.”

Was Junsu still drunk?

“Well… I’ll go out and buy you some,” said Changmin still, reaching the keys to prepare to go out.

“No,” Junsu shook his head like a kid. “I want to go to eat at the foodcart.”

"Junsu," Changmin tried to reason with him, "You can't walk now."

Junsu seemed to think for a while, then he said to Changmin, “You piggyback me.”

“What?”

“You piggyback me,” Junsu repeated.

Changmin sighed. He couldn’t object to that. He went to Junsu, kneeled down so Junsu could climb up. Junsu covered himself with the fleece blanket, making himself look like a red bundle of cotton on Changmin’s back.

Changmin felt Junsu’s body emitting warm to his broad back, and Junsu's hot breath right on his neck. Changmin realized it was the first time they stayed so close together, ever since Junsu had come back. Actually, ever since the disastrous Ilsan night.

He carried Junsu out of the apartment, then descended the flights of stairs. The roads were reddish under the light, with countless small dots on it like sugar on an orange cake.

End 54

Some more chapters and we'll reach the end (finally) ^^. Aww I'll miss you guys.