Chapter 7- Kyungsoo

 

 

"So you're all packed and everything?" I asked Jongin.

 

"Yeah. Yeah I think. Thanks for the help,"

 

"Of course," I smiled at him, but he looked away, unsettled. 

 

"Luhannie! I'm going! Please come say goodbye!" Jongin yelled down the hallway; but Luhan didn't come out. I sighed in unison with Jongin. He let go of his suitcase and headed down the hallway. I waited until he I heard the door click shut to creep down the hall after him. I pressed my ear up to Luhan's bedroom door.

 

"Nononnoononono! Nooooooooo! I won't! I won't say goodbye! Because you said you wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, so if I never say goodbye you can't leave! No- ahahaha! Jongin-ah! Stop tickling me!"

 

"Luhan! I have to go, okay?" He sounded suddenly serious.

 

"No! You can't! We haven't said goodbye yet!" Luhan whined.

 

"Well then let's hurry because I am going to miss my plane!"

 

"Jongin-ah. Please don't go. I don't want too be apart from you," Luhan begged. I heard Jongin sigh and knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose like he does when he's stressed.

 

"Fine. You can come, I bought another ticket anyway; but when I want to be alone you have to..." 

 

Then I stopped listening. Unbelievable. He'd do anything for Luhan, wouldn't he? Maybe Baekhyun was wrong. Maybe they really are in love. I retreated back to foyer, and had just leaned back against the front door when Jongin emerged from the hall.

 

"The conclusion?" I pretended not to know.

 

"Luhan is coming with me. I really just can't say no to him... He's packing really quickly right now."

 

"Okay. You guys have fun," I said.

 

"Will you be okay alone?" He asked concerned.

 

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm a big boy, Jonginnie!" 

 

"I know. Just checking. You're important to me- us." He quickly corrected himself, "I just want to be sure to wont be lonely."

 

"Mmhmm. You can wait in the car, I'll send Luhan out." He nodded and left.

 

In truth, I was almost glad that they were going. I'd been wanting to look around the house to see if I could find anything weird ever since Baekhyun and Chanyeol had come to visit.

 

"Jonginnie~ I'm ready~ oh. Kyungsoo-ah, where is Jongin?"

 

"He's in the car he's waiting there for you."

 

"O~kay. Well...bye Kyungsoo-ah! See you in a few days!" Then he promptly bounded out the front door, towing his suitcase with his left hand. I peeked past the curtains and out the window as they drove away. Then I bolted down the hallway- Luhan's room first.

 

The door creaked as I opened it, making me cringe before I remembered that I was alone. I shoved the door open and waltzed inside. His room was tidy, and, much like the foyer, was modeled like a giant Rubik's cube. I had never been in Luhan's room before, and he probably hadn't very often either, considering he just slept in Jongin's room. I looked around, moving books and children's toys off of shelves and out of drawers.

 

It was all very Luhan, but I didn't find anything strange. Nothing that stood out to me. I exited his room, careful to leave everything as I had found it. I looked around Jongin's room as well.

 

Though I had been in his room before, it was different when I was alone. I had the opportunity to really look around, unlike usual. I did the same thing I did in Luhan's room, moving books and things out of the way, but I saw something strange. On one of the book shelves there was a strange dome shaped thing, kind of like a little bubble. I didn't know what it was, but it didn't seem like something I needed to worry about. 

 

I bit my lip and let my eyes roam every inch of his bedroom. My sight fell on a shelf next to his bed with a bunch of little framed pictures on it. I walked over to it. There were pictures of Jongin and Luhan; Luhan and me; the three of us together; but there was one that caught my eye. There was only one picture of Jongin and I alone. I recognized the setting, and my younger self. I was eleven. It was my birthday party and Jongin was poking my cheek with one hand, while making a little peace sign with his other and looking at the camera. I was just staring at him, paying no attention to the camera. I remembered that when posing for the picture, Luhan was to my left; but I guess he got cut out on accident. It took me a moment to figure out why he would choose to keep this picture out of all of the pictures that we've taken together.

 

I thought back to that day, we had only met a few days before my birthday...

 

-flashback-

 

"Kyungsoo! Happy birthday, Hyung! Happy happy birthday!" A younger Jongin yelled into my face. 

 

"Yah! Jongin-ah! Where's Luhan?" I asked him.

 

"I don't know! We were playing hide and seek and I couldn't find him, but look!" He pointed to the clock, "now you're exactly eleven years old, Hyung!"

 

"What?" I rubbed my eyes confused.

 

"I asked Mr. Joonmyun about it, uh huh, and he said you were born at 7:18, Hyung. It's 7:18 right now!" I laughed and rolled around on the bed. Only Jongin would ask when exactly I was born. "Happy happy birthday!" He grinned.

 

"Well thanks, Jonginnie! Now let's go find Luhan..."

 

-later at the party- 

 

"Kyungsoo-ah! Happy birthday!" Luhan hugged me. I smiled and hugged him back.

 

"Yeah! Happy happy birthday!" Jongin yelled again. 

 

"Jongin! You've said that exactly sixty-two times today! Don't you think he's sick of hearing it?" Luhan demanded.

 

"No! No one can get sick of being wished a happy happy birthday!" Jongin bounced up and down on his toes, which made Luhan and I both laugh.

 

"Kyungsoo-ah," Luhan started, but Jongin interrupted him.

 

"We want you to be our best friend, Hyung! Be best friends with us!" Jongin begged. Jongin must have said what Luhan was going to because Luhan nodded his consent.

 

"Of course! Now we are officially best friends, right Jonginnie?" I asked.

 

"Yay!" Then we did a little group hug and someone took a picture of us.

 

-end flashback-

 

 

That was the day we decided to become best friends. I can't believe he even remembers that... I smiled to myself. 

 

I still hadn't explored the house very diligently so I went searching for anything interesting. I found lots of little hallways and doors that led to empty rooms; but the place that really made me stop was full of boxes. Just cardboard boxes and cobwebs, nothing to look at really. I figured they were some of our things from the labs- not that we really had anything worth keeping. They were stacked behind a door underneath the stairs.

 

I grabbed a stepping-stool and snatched a box off the top of one of the piles. I carefully climbed back down and sat in the floor criss-cross-applesauce, placing the box in front of me. I tried to open it, but it was taped shut really tightly. I sighed and got up to get some scissors. When I returned, scissors in hand, the box was still sitting there, untouched. 

 

Suddenly I got the feeling that I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't look in the box, that something really bad would happen if I opened it; but that just made me even more curious. I plopped down in front of the box once again, and cut the tape off with the scissors. Then I pulled it open- nothing interesting. Just a few couch pillows. I frowned.

 

"Well, that's no fun," I muttered to myself. I reached for another box and opened it the same way. Then another; and another. None of them held anything remotely interesting; but I continued to get the feeling that there was something important in one of the boxes. 

 

After about an hour and a half of rigorous box opening I sat slumped against the wall, my arms tired from cutting through so much cardboard. I only had one box left; but honestly, I pretty much figured I wouldn't find anything of interest in it, but I had been cutting open boxes for SO LONG, it seemed a waste not to open the very last one. 

 

I took a deep breath and cut open the last box, my arms aching and screaming at me. Inside it laid- not couch pillows, not sheets, not a coffee maker, none of that- a scrapbook. It was dusty and old looking. It didn't seem to be labeled on the outside front. I picked it up and flipped it over, nothing on the back either. There was a tiny lock on it, like it was a diary and I rummaged through the box until I found the key. I unlocked it, expecting something to happen; like maybe a song would play. Or it would automatically open and say "hello ajjhumma, I am your new diary! Please program in your name!" Like the diaries in the commercials do. 

 

Nope. Nothing. 

 

I groaned, trying to fight my curiosity but in the end I opened up the little book. The first page had a picture glued into it- a picture of me. I blinked frantically, disbelieving, how could there be a picture of me in a scrapbook that I hadn't made? And I was a little kid. I didn't even know there WERE pictures of me at that time. A least not ones without Luhan and Jongin in them. Above the picture my name was written and my birthday. I turned the page. There was another picture. I had to squint to see the baby's face, it was unfamiliar to me; but the more I studied the face, the more it seemed like I had known the person. He was tiny and had big squishy looking cheeks. His face had an odd blue tint to it.

 

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. I was getting a headache. I my lips, which had suddenly become dry and frowned. I searched for a name, but where my name had been written there was just a glue mark, like something with this person's name on it had been glued on, and then fallen off. I chewed on my bottom lip, some instinct told me not to keep going, to put the scrapbook down now; but I couldn't. My curiosity was too strong. I ignored the nagging feeling and the phrase repeating in my head- "curiosity killed the cat, Kyungsoo", and turned the page. 

 

The next picture was a picture of me with what must have been the same boy in the picture before. We looked about the same age in the picture, and this meant that I definitely HAD known this kid; but why couldn't I remember him? I didn't remember his name or anything about him... I looked up from the scrapbook, remembering something Baekhyun had said to me when he and Chanyeol stopped by.

 

When I had begged him to tell me about my match, about who he was, how he died and his name, Baekhyun had refused telling me it would be painful... This boy in the pictures...

 

It makes perfect sense...it fits perfectly doesn't it? I clearly knew this boy. But I don't remember his name or anything about him... I looked from myself to the boy in the pictures.

 

 No...my match died when he was a baby...there wouldn't be pictures of him at this age... I doesn't make sense...but if they can take memories away...they can make fake ones too...can't they? Wouldn't they be able to guess what we would look like and make pictures? And memories in my head?

 

I looked down at the pictures again, tears welling up in my eyes.

 

So this is what he would have looked like. I swallowed, but there was a lump in my throat. My lips trembled and my hands were shaking. Another thought occurred to me. If my name was here...his would have to be here as well, more than just that one glue spot where his name fell off. I flipped through the pages, taking time to stare at the picture of us together. It seemed to map out our entire lives, up until we would have been presented to the public, just like Jongin and Luhan had been.

 

Larger, sadder tears were pouring from my eyes now. This would have been my life. If things hadn't gone wrong, I would have been happy with him, with my match, instead of longing for someone else's. If it weren't for Baekhyun, I would have been happy. My feelings of sadness suddenly turned to hate. An emotion I had never felt before swelled inside me. I felt my jaw tighten, my hands clenched into fists and my nails digging into my palms. A fiery feeling exploded in my chest; but then it subsided again into sadness and an aching feeling of loss. 

 

I flipped through the pages again, frantically now. I needed to know his name. I needed to know. When I had raged through the pages ten times I realized that it wasn't just going to appear out of nowhere. I studied each page carefully, looking for anything that I may have missed. Finally, on a page with a picture of us holding hands in a park, I saw something. There was a little piece of paper poking out from behind the picture. I pulled away the picture, careful not to rip it, and slid the piece of paper out. I unfolded it cautious not to rip it as well, and found a small one scrawled in hard-to-read doctor's writing.

 

Kyungsoo. If you are reading this...I'm sorry. Things are about to get hard for you. Your life is about to become painful and sad. It won't be easy, but it will begin the road to your happiness, finally. After all that's happened to you, all that had been done to you, you deserve that at least. Happiness.

 

We may or may not have met before, but if we have I'm going to assume it did not go very well. My name is Byun Baekhyun.

 

I paused. How had he known I would find the scrapbook? How did he know I hadn't already found it when he visited...?

 

This scrapbook is, as you may have guessed, full of pictures of you and your match. And you also may have noticed that that is impossible, because he died as a baby. Notice that none of the pictures show his face completely. When the scientists were making the pictures, and your memories, they were careful. The slightest discrepancy and your brain would begin to collapse in on itself because of conflicting images and thoughts; but that isn't important.

 

Not important?! I could die! What? I did not sign up for this. Seriously.

 

The important thing is that you know that your memories are going to start to come back; but I need you to realize that the memories aren't real. They are figments of your imagination basically. The people in the labs planted them there. Please. Please don't let them overwhelm you, I'll have no one to rely on aside from Chanyeol. And we need as many people as we can get; but I'm getting off track. 

 

You have a headache, right? That means your brain is confused. There's a wall, somewhere in your head and it's currently in the process of breaking it down. When that wall is gone, Kyungsoo, it will be like a floodgate has opened and memories of you and your match will flood your head. You may not be able to think of anything else. You may be completely overcome by the memories. Or you may be able to fight them, and keep your senses. If you would like, I can tell you the name of your match; I know you'll want to know it, but I'm warning you, it will only make the process faster and...worse for you.

 

You probably won't die...but...it's possible. Anything is possible. If you would like to know the name of your match, even though you know the risks, please read on; but if not, stop here.

 

I sat there on the floor completely shocked. I wanted to know his name so badly, anything that would bring me closer to him. Anything about him. But Baekhyun had written that it was risky...that it could make everything worse. I willed myself to close my fist around the letter. I sat like that for about five seconds, but then my need to know about him took over. I reopened the letter and kept reading, though I suspected I would regret it.

 

His name is Minseok. He was born 8 pounds 3 oz, 21 cm. long. You two were born at the exact same time, but something went wrong with his birth. I don't know how you suspected he died, or if you had any suspicions at all; but he never... It was a miscarriage. So he was never actually alive...I know that doesn't help, and honestly might make it worse, but that's the truth. I don't know what he would have been like..but I'm sure he would have been a wonderful person.

 

I had to stifle my sobs with my hand. This was too much. I didn't know it would hurt this badly. My heart felt like it was bursting. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on any one thing except this, but I couldn't. It was overwhelming. Memories kept flashing in front of my eyes like movies; but it was more like a horror movie than something I would have lived because I knew that none of it was real. My head was pounding now and I could feel my heart hammering, my pulse picking up. I raked my hands through my hair, leaving scratch marks that I knew would hurt later, but something about the pain brought me back to reality a little.

 

I saw more than just pictures, I saw scenes of Minseok and me; and nothing had ever hurt me so much in my entire life. The worst part was that I never did get to see his entire face, something was always in the way. I saw scenes of us kissing, and I remembered his lips on mine, and the warmth of his hands, and how with him I always felt safe. I felt my heart swell with joy during the memory of when we were presented to the public, and he proposed to me in front of everyone. 

 

All of that. All of those feelings that one part of my brain knew I had never felt, but the another part said that I had hit me like a bunch of bricks. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. I couldn't make sense of anything. I was drowning in my own memories. I heard white noise, I felt faint, I began to break out into a cold sweat and started breathing faster. I tried pinching my arm to being me back to reality, it seemed to help a little so I latched onto that; but it didn't help any more.

 

For what felt like hours I was curled on the floor, collapsed in a heap, feeling like I was going to die. I pinched my arm with my nails so hard that I broke the skin, and a steady flow of blood began. I guess my body was confused and had decided that I was sick, because I threw up whatever I had eaten in the past twelve hours. My head felt like it was going to explode, my vision clouded and my throat still burned from throwing up. My limbs were twitching from shock, and when I looked at my hands or arms, my veins seems swollen. My hands felt weak, my legs felt weak. I felt like I couldn't get enough air to my lungs with each breath, so I focused on that- breathing. As I focused, I felt my head hurt a little less, though there were still memories pushing to get through to the front of my mind, I held them back.

 

Then it all stopped. I sat up. I could see and hear, and breath normally again. The only thing wrong, it seemed, was a dull ache in my head and chest; and the cut on my arm. I looked around. The scissors were still by the boxes, as was the scrapbook, which I picked up and closed warily, slipping Baekhyun's letter inside. I told myself I would need to finish it later.

 

I felt disgusting. I was sweaty, and my shirt had puke on it.

 

Attractive. I though to myself.

 

I resolved to take a shower first, than clean up the floor and the boxes. I dragged myself up the stairs, and tossing the book on my bed, stripped out of my disgusting clothes. I turned the shower on as hot as it would go and, trying to rid myself of the smell of throw up, stepped in. I let the water run over my body for a while, hoping against hope that it would wash some of the memories away. It didn't; but it did get rid of the odor. 

 

I stepped out of the shower into the steamy bathroom, I could still feel 'memories' pressing forward from the back of my mind; but I held them back.

 

I dressed and sat on the edge of my bed having an internal argument with myself.

 

Finish the letter! It's important!

No. Your condition might get worse! Do you REALLY want to be sick like that again?

Please. Learning more about your match is more important than all of that!

No it isn't!

Yes it is!

......

......

 

I reached for the letter, then stopped, retracting my hand and reaching out with every thought.

 

"Aish! This is ridiculous!" I yelled into the empty room, myself being the only one there to hear it. I gabbed the letter and began to re-open it, but then again, I stopped. "Aaaahh! This is impossible, really!" I ruffled my hair and let out an angry sigh.

 

Then I took the letter and folded it back into the scrapbook, going against half of my heart in doing so. I tossed the scrapbook aside and fell back on my bed. Staring up at the ceiling, I thought about everything that had happened to me today. Too much to think about all right now.

 

Finally after hours of restless tossing and turning, I was able to resign myself to sleep; however restless it may have been- knowing that I could learn more tomorrow, but that I needed sleep now.