#yolo

owo

           Junhong looks into the mirror in disappointment. The note the stranger left behind stares mockingly back at him. The fact that a photo of him and Yongnam hung right next to the note didn’t help the matter. Junhong hadn’t called the number, but he has stared at it and contemplated the choice for hours on end. Today was no different; he came home from work, ate dinner and stared at the neatly taped note home to the stranger’s sloppy-ish handwriting.He had added 'Yongguk' neatly next to the written phrase of mysterious stranger. 

            It was mocking him, the words, especially the phrase, ‘whenever you’re ready’. It was as if the stranger of a man, Yongguk, knew of his melancholic past and just how much he resembled his deceased lover.

            It bothered Junhong, to know that there was another human being who so closely resembled someone that he considered to be untouchable and the epitome of perfection. A part of him didn’t want to correlate this Yongguk with his Yongnam. The other part of him wanted to throw away all conscience, morality and devotion to Yongnam. The other part of him wanted to start something with the stranger and fill the void that was in his heart.

            His furrowing brows reflected the state of his mental confusion. He knows he’s being stupid because it is just a phone call. And that phone call may or may not lead to something bigger. And hell even if it leads to something bigger, there’s no guarantee that Yongguk feels the same way about him and want to spend the rest of his life with him. So why the hell was he worrying about the future when the future might be simply irrelevant. So he temporarily throws away his worries and dials the number, basically on a whim.

            Ring ring ring

            Junhong swallows nervously as his heart rate increases with every passing dial tone, already regretting the spur of the moment decision to call.

           His brows knit together with each passing ring. Hell, he was sitting here worrying his off when Yongguk might not even pick up. Junhong scoffs quietly as the chances of Yongguk picks up decreases. It was a Friday night, and to be honest Junhong wouldn’t be surprised if he was already out hanging out with friends or worse, with a lover of some sort. 

            “Hello?” And Junhong remains frozen, mouth drying and stares wordlessly into the mirror, genuinely surprised that the older male actually picked up. “Hello?” the deep voice of the stranger cuts into his concentration dramatically, snapping him out of his shocked state.

            “Hello… I’m not sure if you remember me… but you gave me your number to call a while back at the club, you said whenever I was ready… ahhah” he chuckles awkwardly. Between his natural awkwardness and this being the first conversation he had with an unfamiliar human being since god knows how long, Junhong finds it difficult to naturally converse. (With a voice on the phone). 

            “Oh right, I remember, Zelo right?”

            “Uh yeah” Junhong is slightly taken back by the fact that Yongguk actually remembers without him having to leaving behind any more hints and details.

            “Yeah, I’m so glad you called, I was getting worried that you weren’t going to call, oh god that sounds mad awkward.” Junhong cracks a smile, the first since the death of Yongnam. “Anyways, hope I don’t freak you out, I’m just glad that’s all. I was sort of waiting for it," more awkward chuckling.

            “….” Junhong just sits there, awfully fidgety and twindles his thumbs nervously in his lap.

            “I hope you’re still there, but uh, I’d like to see you again, preferably sometime soon?” the hint of nervousness in the older male’s voice sends shivers down Junhong’s spine. He was falling for that voice of his, falling hard.

            He swallows whatever fears and reservations, he responds, “I’d like that” it comes out more timid and quiet than Junhong would prefer but it suffices its purpose.

            “Great! When are you free?”

            “Whenever…”

            “Tomorrow?” The rise of the male’s voice by a few octaves triggers a smile on Junhong’s otherwise frowning visage.

            “Sure…” Junhong is certain his voice isn’t the most convincing of things at the moment, but there is little he can actually do to suppress the sorrow that seemed to be bound to his soul. 

            “Come on! At least try to sound a little more enthusiastic about it, I’m not that terrible of company.” Yongguk jokes and Junhong can’t help but to chuckle, the other male’s laugh was simply, contagious. “Hey, made you laugh”

            “I guess you did” Junhong comments, genuinely surprised by his own bodily reactions.

            “So any place you want to go to?”

            “Not in particular” when he realizes he’s being too boring and stoic, he adds a quick, “surprise me.” He hears Yongguk’s laugh on the line and for a moment, just for a split moment, he is genuinely happy. All of his worries seem to fade away into nothingness as his mind drowns himself in the other’s laughter. It was a soothing sound, despite the weirdness in that adjective.

            “Gladly, since I assume you don’t want to give out your address to a random stranger you met at the club, meet me at the Coffee Shop at… let’s say… 1? I’ll come up with something for us to do”

            “Sounds good” Junhong nods, “see you then”

            “Great, see ya Zelo”

            He closes the phone with a quick nod. With an uneasiness building up in his chest cavity, he wants to judge it to be general nervousness. But the larger, more stubborn part of him is awfully familiar with the feeling. The warming, bubbling sensation, the slight nervousness and increase of body temperature are all telltale signs of attraction, affection, and desire to put it bluntly. Though Junhong is almost certain that this affection isn’t directed towards Yongguk himself, but rather towards Yongnam. Because of their almost impossible resemblance, whatever he felt towards Yongnam could be reflected on to the half stranger he had just had a phone conversation with, now that Nam was gone and what not.

            Junhong stares at his reflection in the mirror. “Man… I look like .” It’s true, ever since Yongnam had an untimely date with the Grim Reaper; he hadn’t really given two s about his appearance. His meeting with Yongguk gave him a reason to put in some effort, maybe not for his sake but for the sake of Yongnam, for the sake of their resemblance.

            “What the ” he continues his inspection of his appearance as he runs a hand through his long roots. “Why does no one tell me that my roots were as long as my ing hair… I swear…” Junhong mumbles some incoherent phrases under his breath. “I should hit up the salon before tomorrow.” Judging by the condition of his hair and roots, a quick trip to the salon seemed extremely wise.

            Junhong’s eyes flickered back to the mirror before him, surprised by the smiling visage that looked back at him. Despite his moment of content, all comes to an end when his gaze lingers on that one phone of the two of them together. It was times like these Junhong questioned why it was there in the first place. It was, in the most literal sense, a constant reminder of what he had lost, a constant reminder that he was broken, shattered. But it was also moments like these that Junhong realized he wasn’t quite ready to move on.

            “Well ” he mumbles as it suddenly downed on him. That maybe meeting Yongguk wasn’t such a good idea, that maybe it’s for the better that he remains abstinent for the rest of his life. He should become an aual, sorrowful monk. Hell, did he even deserve another chance at happiness? Yongnam was everything he could’ve ever wanted, perfect, caring and showered him with all the love he could ever want, you just don’t get a second chance at perfection. And that’s what their relationship really was, perfection. “Love is a ” Junhong arrives at his conclusion before furrowing his brows in frustration.

            To go or not to go

            It was a simple question. A question that Junhong had no idea what the answer was.

            He would be using Yongguk. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that much out. In his heart, he knew that those smiles, those feelings, everything wasn’t gestured towards Yongguk. They just weren’t. He could spend all day trying to convince himself that he legitimately cared for whom the older male really was and he still wouldn’t be convinced. Junhong’s heart was still attached to Yongnam’s unbeating one, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. And Junhong’s heart saw Yongguk as a shadow of Yongnam and nothing more.

            It broke his heart to know that. It broke his heart to know that he had a meeting with someone for the sole purpose of keeping his dead lover alive in his heart. Morally speaking, it was wrong, nothing more to it. He doesn’t know a single person in this world that would sacrifice his or her identity for someone else’s sake.

            It’d be like saying “Hey, I love you, not really for you though, it’s more like I love you because you look exactly like my dead boyfriend. But I hope you can love me the save way I love my dead boyfriend.” 

            Junhong could only scoff at his own thoughts.

            After a brief battle with morality, he shrugs the negativity away.

            It was not like Yongguk would fall irrevocably in love him. Right? So it was okay to be selfish just this once right? Of course, he’d be prepared for whatever heartbreak might accompany this ‘relationship’.

            So it’s okay right? Because karma’s a and he’ll sure get punished for using another person like that.

            “Just pretend like he’s nammie” Junhong takes in a deep breath before uttering his late lover’s name. It instantly brings down the mood. Actually, it shatters the mood, he shakes away as much of the sorrow as he can for as long as he can, bringing his body to the comforts of his bed, and he pulls a rather large plush tiger into his arms.

            Yongnam had gifted it to him for their first anniversary god knows how many years ago.

           It smells like him

           The scent manages to bring tears into Junhong’s eyes. He marvels at the at fact that after all this time, something as miniscule as the mutter of his nickname or his scent had such an effect on him.

           He remembers the time Youngjae slipped and called him Junhong for the fist time after Yongnam’s departure. To put it nicely, he flipped the . Almost beating the absolute crap out of the older male before Daehyun could pull him from his limp body. Instead he went by Zelo, he sought to create a new identity, free from Yongnam’s influence, but hell did that plan flop. Sure everyone around him began to call him ‘Zelo’ instead of ‘Junhong’, but it didn’t change the fact that he was that miserable soul to lose the love of his life to some obscene accident that he wasn’t even given much information on. The hospital people kept it extremely vague, they didn’t tell him . They just said some big medical words with the word ‘dead’ mixed up in there here and there. Maybe that was a part of Junhong’s devastation, not knowing exactly what happened.  He needed closure, which just so happens to be nowhere to be found.

           Eventually he lets drowsiness fill his mind, it was how he would fall asleep most nights, drowned in his own sorrows.

           He wakes up feeling even more hesitant than before. Groaning he turns his body over to glance at the clock. 10:08 AM. It was far later than he usually sleeps, but workable.  After a quick trip to the bathroom, he leaves for the salon, a place he had frequented before the unfortunate turn of events.

           So when he arrives the usual place right at the crack of their opening time, he is greeted with pleasantly surprised visages.

           “Hey! Zelo! Long time so see man,” the usual receptionist greets him with a smile. Junhong lets out a quick grunt, his friends must’ve told everywhere he frequented of his recent name change. “We’ll just your hair washed now, G.D. should be in soon. And don’t take this the wrong way Zelo, but I’m so glad you decided to come in before um…” he gestures at his hair. “You know those roots take over your brain.” Junhong cracks a smile at the receptionist’s blunt sarcasm. He was part of the reason that he loved his salon, that and the hair stylist changed his own hair just as much as he himself did.

           “Thanks” he mumbles quietly.

           “Oh is that Junhong I see?”

           Junhong cringes at the calling of his name. His eyes remain closed as he hears some mumbling in the distance.

           “Got it, Zelo now, great, what are you looking for today?”

           He shrugs uncaringly; he just wanted a look, a new start. “Something new I guess”

           “Do I have creative freedom then?”

           “Ha, not exactly Jiyong, not exactly, keep it somewhat normal”

           “Our definition of normal is very stretchy”

           “I guess, I don’t want to come out with pink and purple and blue and yellow and green and every ing color of the rainbow in my hair” He scoffs and for a moment, the old Junhong was back, the old jabbing comments and terrible use of the language.

           “Glad to have you back, get your over here” Chuckling slightly, he drags his body to the salon chair. “We’ll take care of those absolutely horrendous roots and then we’ll get something new up in that old blonde”

           “Sounds good”

           “Cheer up will ya? You’ll look great after I’m done”

           “Hey at least I’m here trying”

           “I’ll give you props for that” They make small talk, jabbing jokes and other parts of the client-stylist relationship. “So how you’ve been?”

           “Good I guess the usual”

           “You got a date or something? Is my little baby back on the market?”

           “Something like that”

           “So?” Junhong sees the older male wiggling his eyebrows. “Who’s the lucky man?” He raises an eyebrow at the expression on Jiyong’s face. “Oh come on! Tell me! Who’s this dude that managed to bring you out of depression?” He adds a quick nudge on Junhong’s shoulder for emphasis.

           “Someone” he whispers his reply.

           “URGH! Here I am trying to save your appearance for a stranger whose name you wouldn’t even share with me” Jiyong pouts quickly. “Imma dye your hair now so close your eyes, this is going to be a surprise”

            “Yongguk”

            “Hm? What was that?”

            “His name is Yongguk”

            “Hm… I like this guy already” Jiyong comments and Junhong can’t help but to laugh at the size of his stylist’s ego. “He better take care of my baby”

            Junhong hums in response, waiting patiently for the dye job to be finished.

            A quick blow dry and cut later, Jiyong grins cheekily at his creation. “Tah-dah, it’s a new dawn” Curious, Junhong cracks an eye open and is presently surprised at his new look. Midnight blue locks that accentuated his complexion and a fringe that hung barely above his eyes. “You like? Who am I kidding, of course you like. You look hot man”

            “Yeah, I love it” Junhong smiles before running a hand through his hair.

            “Ay, don’t touch the hair” Jiyong lightly slaps the younger male’s hand away.

            “Yes, ma’am” he nods obediently before getting up from the seat. “Oh what time is it?”

            “Uh… It’s exactly 12:45. Why?”

            “Oh , I’m going to be late and I have to change, you wouldn’t happen to have extra clothes on you right?”

            “What? Uh… I got clothes I prepare for everything, if you know what I mean.” He watches as Jiyong lips suggestively and send a wink towards Seunghyun, another stylist at the salon.

            “Oh god, that’s so ing gross, anything I could borrow for the day?”

            “Only because you’re my baby” Jiyong jokes before grabbing the newly bluenette up from the seat and shoves him into a closet in the back of the upscale salon. “Here, pants and a shirt, knock yourself out”

            Junhong fumbles in the pitch darkness but nonetheless he manages to strip himself of his baggy jeans and wife beater that had clad his body a few moments again, he changes into what he believes to be a t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. At least that’s what Jiyong’s clothes feel like.

            It hadn’t really cross his mind that with Jiyong’s taste in clothes, he very well could have a picture of a girl’s or s or even worse, vulgar phrases like ‘ me’ written all of his shirt. Quickly, Junhong shrugs off the thought and reenters the well lite space of the salon. He sighs in relief at his appearance in the nearest mirror. It was, thank the Gods, a Boy London shirt. “Thanks man, I gotta run” he shouts quickly before making a dash for the door.

            “What? You got a date or something?”

            “A date with the past, yeah!” 

owo