Autumn sunlight shone delicately through window pane, touching tenderly on his skin like a note of morning song.

It was 6 o'clock. There was plenty of time before Dongwook would arrive. Everyone in the house had already prepared their luggage, except him. Jiyong looked at the window, at his own reflection on the clear glass. Wrinkles under his eyes confessed its journeys through time and incidents for 35 years or so. He sat on the end of the bed, waving his legs slowly in the air, trying to figure out whether he should do it.

With A life like his, an infamous song writer, producer and singer, travelling from places to places was a common thing. However, once you had settled down, it was so hard to move again. He had been hesitating for 3 months before he took Dongwook's advice. 

You should leave that place. That's what he said.

Jiyong knew it was necessary to let the past go. But moving was not just packing your things, jumping in a taxi and walking into a new place casually as if it was a daily routine. When you moved, some parts inside you died. 

For Jiyong, one of his most precious memories lived in this house.

Actually, it was not a house --just rooms with furniture on a quiet street of Seoul; an ordinary condominium. But it was his only shelter. The only place where he could live his life as it really was. 

Jiyong stood up, opened the closet and glided through pieces of clothes. The familiar fragrance lingering inside poured out on him, like arms that always embraced him when he was tired. He smiled, though almost invisible, for it reminded him of something so dear. He kept these clothes, every of them, in spite of people's disagreement. Not even a sock was left. 

But now, he had to let them go.

Let himself go.


He picked one of them out of the shelf, a black linen shirt, soft and glimmering, looking new as if it was never touched. The texture was so sweet, and, at the same time, it was hurtful and heavy. His hands grabbed it uncontrollably. Breathing became harder and rougher. Bitter pain rose in his chest. The shirt's arm was clasped abruptly. Realizing what he’d done a moment later, he released his hands and tried to flatten the shirt's arms. Drops of hot tears ran down from both eyes without him noticing it.
Comparing between life and death, living was much more damn hard to stand. And he was chosen to be the one who must continue this suffering.

"You bastard! Why did you leave me so early?" He mumbled through his teeth, while burrowing his face in the shirt.

"Papa." A clear little voice came from the door. It startled Jiyong. He secretly shed his tears before turning with an ostensibly fine expression on his face.

"Oh dear, did I wake you up?" asked Jiyong as he walked to the 7-year-old boy. The kid shook his head, rubbing his left eye drowsily.

"I went to toilet and I saw your door open. Papa wakes up very early." He sounded very sleepy. However, Paran still tried to show his care for his 'Papa'. Jiyong sat down and hugged him loosely. 

"I'm checking something before we leave." He smiled, hiding recent feelings deep under his expression.

"Papa lies. I know that Papa misses Seunghyun." Those little eyes seemed to be sober from sleepiness. He stared at Jiyong as if there was only one answer he could say. No matter how good he was at acting, nor how he tried, Paran always saw though his tricks. Except for Seunghyun, his son is the only living person who Jiyong was never able to cheat.

"Yes, I miss Seunghyun." His voice was casual and lightened, though it was very difficult to do it.

"Don't be! Papa has Paran! Don't be sad, please." Those little arms tried to cling on him firmly, to never let him sink into the same pit again. Somehow, Jiyong's eyes felt hot and wet once more. But this time, the liquid flooding in his neck wasn't so bitter.

"It's alright Paran. Papa wasn't sad. I'm trying to manage Seunghyun's stuff here." But he lied. He still didn't know what to do with those clothes.

"Liar, liar. Paran knows Papa well. You will cry." His son's voice seemed to shrink, almost sounded like sobbing.

"Ok. I won't cry. I have promised you, remember?" He laughed quietly. Paran's stubbornness was so similar to his father’s. Such an energetic, lively boy.

"You've promised me. Keep your words" His stared at Jiyong was sharp and tense, like a gaze that always made Jiyong’s heart tremble in the past.

"I'll keep it." Jiyong raised his hand as a symbol for a promise. Then, Paran smiled and let his Papa stand up. "Now go back to your room, take a bath and change clothes. When breakfast is ready, I'll let Minzy call you." 

Paran nodded and ran back to his room. The room fell silent again. Jiyong turned back to the closet. This time he smiled, not with a gloomy heart, but a relieved one.

"If that's your trick to cheer me up, it works." He whispered so quiet as if talking to himself. 

"Thank you."
 

He walked to the closet, closed it, and wrote a note for the people who would take care of things in this house.


‘-Donating them-’ 


He walked out that room, shut the door. He asked Minzy, his long-time house maid, to prepare breakfast for his son. Of course... 

'Our son.'

When Dongwook arrived, Jiyong stood in front of the building with Paran and Minzy. The luggage was beside them. Dongwook and his lover Taebin stepped down from a big, cream-colored van. Taebin smiled at Jiyong and walked to take the luggage to the van. Dongwook came toward Jiyong and his son.

"Hello, my little Paran." Dongwook opened his arms and hugged the boy tightly.

"Uncle Dongwook. I'm glad to meet you." The boy's voice was happy. He was always lively around his kind uncle.

"Good to see you too. You have grown up so much." He stood up, held the boy in his arms, and turned to Jiyong "And I'm glad to see you’re fine too." As his elder brother's smile showed his cheering heart, Jiyong nodded lightly.

"Everything needed to be done someday. I just decided to do it now."

"Very well. I'm glad that you’re doing it. It's good for both of you."

Sometimes, choosing to stay or to move is a tough decision. But life always goes on, whether we want or not. 

'But you’ll always stay here, in my heart. You know, right?'

He walked along with the others and stepped into the van. He took one last look at his condominium, where he once lived with Paran's father, the other one, that stubborn and lively man with a sharp gaze.
 

The last drop of warm tears rolled down his cheek.

'Goodbye.'