He had been so confident, so alive, so naïve, so full of youthful energy in his early childhood. The pessimistic brat was his nickname throughout his adolescence, it was what he seemed to be on the outside, cold, distance and overly negative. He really was just misunderstood, or maybe understood a little bit too much. He understood that there comes the day that everyone grows old, ages, and dies. He understood concepts and philosophies no child should ever come in contact with. To him, optimism was the source of pain so he was never the one to be optimistic about, well, anything, so why was he so damn unprepared for that?

            Why did the only thing he had a bit of faith in fail and drag him down?

            He knows the answer.

            High expectations and death were the culprits. Maybe time also played a part, acted as the accomplice. No, time is appropriately, the mastermind, death and expectations are its minions. Time tears people apart. Funny how they thought they were immune to the weapons of time, funny.

            Time meant change, and hell, did he not like change. And he brought forth nothing but change, a new way of life that was only tolerable with his presence right next to him. “Hyung, where are you” was the question he asked himself every moment of every single day of his living life.

            He didn’t know the answer to that.

            He learned.

            Real life doesn’t have happy endings.

            Despite how great things seem to be going, they never ever, ever, end well.

            They say that love is the strongest weapon against the mind. Now he knows they were right. Who knew heart break could destroy the physical entity.

            He remembers.

            “I remember” he clutches his heart, midnight blue locks swaying with his small movements.  

            They met on the most peculiar of circumstances. One Friday afternoon, sulking about the supposed misery in their lives. Junhong gave advice, the most pessimistic of advices. And Yongguk listened, not necessarily following but smiling at the youthful pessimism.

            “Do you believe in happy endings?” Yongguk had asked without even looking the boy in the eye.

            “Real life doesn’t yield happy endings” Junhong had replied, taking a long breathe of the cigarette flickering in his hands.

            Yongguk had scoffed, rolled his eyes even.

            “ like that don’t exist old man”

            “…”

            “Life’s full of obstacles, obstacles that you don’t necessarily have to overcome. You don’t have to move forward in life if it takes too much effort. You can just stay where you are, because well, it’s your life. If you fail, well if you yourself don’t think that you’ve failed, then technically you haven’t failed. On the other hand if you yourself thinks you’ve succeeded, chances are, the rest of the world doesn’t believe in that .” Junhong shrugged at Yongguk, who was probably feeling worse now. “Hey man, it’s just the truth, hate to break it to you but you’ll never meet those standards.” The melancholic tone made Yongguk wonder just how old the person in front of him was. He sounded like some wise old man you would find at a remote village, whom you sought out for life advice, though his appearance clearly marked him to be a young boy, despite his monstrous height. “Just take your life…” he paused, pursed his pouty lips together, “one cigarette at a time.” He handed the half used tobacco stick to the older male and walked away, leaving the older male flabbergasted, wishing he had acquired some means of contacting the blonde boy again. Nonetheless, Yongguk managed to in the relaxing poison before the ambers completely burned out.

            “New life model anyone?” he had said to the air.

            He remembers.

            “I remember,” he sighs, hand running through the newly dyed chestnut locks, missing Junhong.

            They met again, by some impossible chance of fate, two years later.

Yongguk, now in his mid-twenties was running to the train station in the rain. Junhong, only hitting his prime age of eighteen was standing in the rain.

            Yongguk had caught sight of blonde locks, not the same bouncy and curly locks he had seen two years ago, but blonde nonetheless with bits of light blue tainted the fringe. He found himself irrevocably attracted to the figure in the rain, successfully gaining stares from umbrellaed strangers. Knowing the chances of the figure in the rain being the boy he had met two years ago was slim, Yongguk made his way through the scrambling crowd. Before even looking at the boy’s visage, Yongguk knew. It was the same boy of monstrous heights from two years ago, he knew by some supernatural sixth sense.

            He had grabbed the boy by this shoulder and shoved him to a nearby overhang. No words were exchanged; no gazes of surprise were traded. Only silence accompanied the duo for a solid chunk of time.

            “Did you follow my advice?” Junhong spoke up first, closing his eyes as the rain drips down from his bleached locks. It felt good.

            “What? You remember me?” Yongguk can’t help but to stare at the younger boy, a look of surprise overcoming his features.

            “Of course” The sternness in the boy’s voice had awakened something within him, stirred up some emotion Yongguk couldn’t quite put his finger on. “So… uh, what’s up with you.. er…”

            “Junhong, and nothing’s up. It’s the same thing. Life.” Yongguk swore he had heard the first tints of genuine sadness in his voice. The boy, Junhong, before him wasn’t the same pessimistic teenager he had met two years ago. This Junhong had experienced hurt, heartbreak even, grown up in a sense. And Yongguk is sure his message will be even more pessimistic than the last.

            “Yongguk.” He had stated.

            “Life’s really a you know” Junhong had finally given into the silence and spoke up.

            “What happened?”

            “Have you ever just stared down from the top of some insanely high building and wondered if you were a coward for even considering the jump or a coward for backing away from it?”

            Yongguk swore his eyes were going to pop out of his sockets. “You’re not…”

            “Have you ever just stood in the rain and stared up at the sky and just watch, and I mean really watch the raindrops fall.”

            “….” It then that Yongguk realized his level of comforting won’t even begin to heal the boy’s wounds. He realized that the boy would continue to speak even if he makes no legitimately responses. So much pent up frustration and hurt have piled up in Junhong’s soul that speaking to another human being, more particularly a stranger by some chance of faith he had met again, was his method of coping with harsh society.

            Junhong had chuckled. “Sometimes I really wonder if this is all life is. Nothing more, just hurt, more hurt with a dash of manual labor on the side. I guess I underestimated you!” he had shouted to the sky. “The rain’s so cleansing” he had reached out into the torrential downpour, “I feel like it’s cleansing my soul” Junhong let a sigh of pent up emotions before returning to the rain. “The rain is my home, the sky’s the blessing, life is the curse and love is the catalyst that speeds up both the good and the bad”

            Yongguk had reached out in a half-hearted attempt to pull the boy back. But he doesn’t, something within him holds him back. “Junhong,” he repeated instead, liking the sound of the other’s name on the tip of his tongue.

            He remembers.

            “I remember Yongguk” Junhong mumbles underneath his breath. Yongguk was the one puzzle in his life that his overly complex mind could not comprehend. “Yongguk” He repeats as if the name itself was some sort of a religious prayer.

            They met again, nearly a year later, under slightly different circumstances. Not burdened by some hardship in life, but a rather light-hearted mood danced around their surroundings and mind.

            Their first fully pleasant encounter

            Junhong, the miserable university student works the night shift at a 24hr café. His boss, eccentric and little bit crazy to keep a café open that long. That night was the first night that Junhong was glad for his sleepless nights and studying days. 

            Yongguk, the overworked businessman with no attachments, or friends for that matter returns to a café he frequents during the day at the untimely hour of 2AM on a Saturday. That night was the first night Yongguk was appreciative of his awkward social skills and nonexistent social life.

            Had the circumstances of their lives played out any differently, the duo would have never had their long-delayed reunion.

            Things like this boosted Junhong’s otherwise rock-bottom optimism. It made him believe even just for little bit that they had been meant to be.

            By a series of unfortunate and might he add absolutely heartbreaking events, he learned that they were anything but meant to be.

            The ringing of a bell and the creaking of a door had snapped the now barista Junhong out of his daze. He had shot the intruder a look of annoyance. “What the is someone doing here at ing 2 AM” he had mumbled. Grumbling, he reluctantly took out his earbuds and walked to cashier before plastering a fake smile on his frowning visage.

            Then he looked up.

            He doesn’t quite know if his expression was more revealing than Yongguk’s. But he’s sure his eyes told the story.

            Two, large, genuine smiles immediately grace the two men’s features. The slight crinkling of the eyes and the flashing of pearly whites displayed the unspoken words.

            “Are you stalking me or something?” It was Yongguk that had spoken first.

            “Ha, you’re flattering yourself, what was your name again?” Junhong jabbed.

            Cocking an eyebrow at the barista, Yongguk flashed a grin. “I think you know, and I’ll take a latte, please and thank you”

            “Coming right up stranger”

            It was funny how the entrance of a near stranger could lighten the mood of the gloomy, empty, silent café.

            “So, what you up to these days Junhongah?” “See I remembered your name” Yongguk had added curving up the octaves of the younger’s name playfully.

            “Hm, same old same old I guess” Junhong replied, fumbling with the machines for a few minutes. “One latte” placing the piping hot cup down on the counter and stuffed whatever money into the cash register.

            “Come chat a bit?”

            “I don’t know, Yongguk, I’m a bit busy”

            “Che, hey, at least you remembered my name” Yongguk chimed before walking to one of the many empty booths. “My offer stands”

            Slowly but surely Junhong made his way to the seated male.

            “Your view on life changed?”

            “Not really, I mean I’m a college student, studying my off for the sake of getting a degree in a so called ‘respected profession’” He had brought up his hands, making imaginary quotation marks for emphasis. “When all I want to do with my life is rap. But hey, I gotta make money somehow, if I need to work a mundane day job then whatever, I don’t really care”

            “I see…”

            Junhong had continued, feeling awfully talkative. “I mean, there’s just such a divide between doing what you love and doing what you need to do.”

            Yongguk cocked an eyebrow at the boy’s words; the tattoo on his back seemed to burn.

            “Cross that, actually no, that line doesn’t even exist, because well, frankly doing what you love isn’t really an option, I mean look at you, its 2AM on a Saturday and you aren’t partying away, no offense”

            “Ha, it’s alright, not offended” Yongguk could only chuckle, Junhong was intriguing in that he managed to be so energetic, social and talkative but at the same time, he was also so unnerving, his view and philosophy on life so pessimistic, and as much as Yongguk hates to admit it, so painfully true.

The next time they meet isn’t by some rather occurring chance. The next time they meet, they meet on a planned location at a planned time because Yongguk apparently works the night shift in addition to the day shift and can’t visit Junhong everyday of every week like he wants to.

            He remembers.

            “I remember Junhong”

            They spend three happy years together, two as a couple.

            Before then they spent one, entire year, learning about each other’s pasts.

            It was then that Junhong learned of Yongguk’s heartbreak and the reason of his desperate mental condition during their first encounter. Girlfriend, well more precisely fiancée pregnant with his best friend’s child, Junhong mentally winched at the betrayal. He also learned that Yongguk had been considering staying with the girl, marrying her and taking on the child. He learned that because of his advice, Yongguk left the girl. Junhong never realized fully, ever, the extent his words had impacted Yongguk’s actions.

            And Yongguk learned what happened that day in the rain. And what had happened sent shivers down Yongguk’s shine every time he thought about it. It, quite literally made his blood boil. Junhong had been , by the man he loved, he would never forget that er’s name, and he would never forgive. He hadn’t hesitated to beat the absolute out of the man the first chance he got. To be honest, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend Junhong’s pain. That level of betray was beyond anything he had ever experienced before. To be taken advantage of by someone you trusted and even loved, and the devastation that followed, Yongguk could only shake his head at the thought.

            Maybe they shared a little too much, became a little too attached to each other. Made it too hard for them to depart from each other. But Yongguk is sure that the both of them knew that it would one day come to it, though he isn’t quite sure why they waited so long, dragged out their too intimate friendship for an entire year. The lingering touches, the lusty glances of course they didn’t go unnoticed. But they put up with it, in some sort of a silent pact. Suffering from the fear of unrequited love and ruined friendship.

            Junhong confessed first, on a drunken evening. It was his twenty-first birthday. And the elder’s confession for his returning of their mutual love was the best birthday present he could ever ask for.

            Two ing years they spent in bliss, never tiring of one another’s presence. They were stuck to each other like a teenage girl was stuck to her smart phone. They made friends thanks to Junhong’s social skills. Yongguk had envied Junhong in many ways and vice versa. To put it simply, they completed each other in the most literal senses.

            Junhong was pessimistic but managed to find optimism in Yongguk.

            Yongguk was weak with a broken heart but found comfort in Junhong.

            He had asked Junhong the same question he asked five years ago. “Do you believe in happy endings?” He had held onto the new bluenette’s delicate hand, calloused thumb running over the soft, porcelain-like skin. It brought back memories, a sensation similar to déjà vu, only different. The atmosphere wasn’t the same; they were closer, emotionally and physically. “Well babe? Do you believe in them? “

            “Real life doesn’t yield happy endings”

            Yongguk could only chuckle. The Junhong before him still had the same mentality as he five years ago, pessimistic as . Yongguk felt his heart clench slightly. He isn’t quite sure why he expected a different answer just because he and Junhong were together now, but the thought doesn’t stop him from muttering hopeful words quietly. “Well, believe in ours” He had said with a warm smile on his face before placing a chaste kiss on the boy’s lips. “Believe in ours” he whispered again, unlacing their fingers and placing his hands on both sides of boy’s face. He tried his best to read Junhong’s expression. He gazed into ocean deep brown orbs. Sparking slightly in the light, it was sight Yongguk could never get tired of looking at. “Believe in ours” he had repeated one last time before leaning into the boy’s warmth.

            Junhong gave a quiet nod, melting into the Yongguk’s heartfelt kiss.

            The broken boy remembers.

            “I believed in us, I remember,” he sobs, clutching his shirt desperately. It hurt. It hurt so ing much, the only man, thing he had ever given his full trust to betrayed him. It hurt more than anything had ever hurt him.

            To wake up one day with your lover gone, nowhere to be found, no letter to explain, absolutely nothing was left. Sure, Yongguk left behind his clothes, valuables, well things Junhong considered to be valuable, but nothing really remained.

            They moved in together, Junhong had left everything, given everything to the older man, only to be abandoned one Monday morning. What was a boy to do? Cry? Yeah, Junhong did just that. He doesn’t leave their apartment for days, not daring to touch anything, for the slight chance that Yongguk just might return. He just stayed there, like a lost puppy without his owner until his best friend Jongup came to check up on him.  

            To be honest, Junhong did pick up that something was wrong. He picked up on Yongguk’s slight uneasiness. Junhong didn’t pay any part of his mind to it, judged it to be regular work related stress. Looking back on it, Junhong could only regret not asking Yongguk if anything was wrong with their relationship. At the same time Junhong can’t help but wonder why Yongguk didn’t try and patch up their relationship before leaving. He wondered just why the older man would leave without a word, without even officially breaking up with him. Was Yongguk really that kind of a man?

            No, right?

            Why was no one answering him?

            Why?

            It was another question Junhong had no idea what the answer was to.

            For the first time in his life, he felt absolutely hopeless and directionless.

            Sure, he’s always been pessimistic, but this was on a different level of things. He, quite literally, wanted to die. Yongguk had shattered his life with his ing optimism and hell, to take away the joy and happiness, was like abruptly taking an addict off of drugs. It was cruel and unusual treatment. It drove Junhong crazy, shattered his soul and heart to a point beyond repair.

            To this day, he still doesn’t know why. Junhong knows he would give the world for an answer.

            The ill-fortuned man remembers.
            “Do you think it was easy to leave you?”

            Cancer 

            Cancer was the culprit.

            The truth was that Yongguk had cancer, stage ing IV stomach cancer.

            He remembers.

            Washed over with a feeling of absolute defeat. Those are the words that one dreads for a lifetime. To be honest, the first thing that popped into his mind was Junhong. He didn’t give two s about anything but Junhong. He knew the boy wouldn’t take the news well, hell; he probably would give up hope all together.

            After all, he was the one that had preached the importance of believe in their relationship. To tell Junhong that he was dying was like telling a child Santa Claus didn’t exist. And he just didn’t have the heart to crush someone’s hope like that, especially, someone he loved.

            Numerous doctor appointments and a serious talk later, he made up his mind that he would protect Junhong from the heartache of his death.

            85% chance of death

            Yongguk scoffed. They had the nerve to tell him Stage IV stomach cancer gave him six more months on this Earth, on top of a 15% rate of survival.

            So Yongguk did what he knew best. He ran away before he could catch Junhong’s state after his departure. The only thing he knew how to do. He knew his heart couldn’t handle the hurt of the seeing a broken Junhong. He couldn’t handle it, being away from the warmth of the younger male when all he felt was pain was a difficult enough task.

            It was… 

            Heart shattering

            Soul wrenching

            Hurt wouldn’t begin to describe what he gone through.

            Who knew the absence of love was so damaging.

            Who knew?

            Who knows better than Yongguk? And even he couldn’t completely comprehend the ache.

            It hurt more than the first.  A of a lot more than the first.

            So sixth months passed like that, painfully slowly, each passing day was an absolute nightmare to get through. Pain seemed to progressively get worse with each and passing day.

            But he fought on because never once did Junhong ever consider suicide. Granted that he doesn’t how his departure had affected the boy, but he just knew that Junhong was alive. Call it lover’s tuition. So it made sense to Yongguk that he should fight on.

            Maybe Junhong was hurting and he sure as hell spent everyday wondering just how much hurt he had caused the boy. Sometimes, he would stare up at the blank ceiling of his hospital room after a harsh session of chemo, and see Junhong. And he remembers, just for a second, all the pain would go away.

            The thought of Junhong hurting made his hurt seem miniscule. In his point of view, if he was the cause of his lover’s pain then it’s only natural for him to suffer as well. It was a fair trade off right?

            It was for the better right?

            He was protecting Junhong right?

            Jokes

            What happens? By some cruel twist of faith, some chemo and a successful operation later, Yongguk was cancer free.

            Just like that, with a snap of God’s fingers, Yongguk was cured.

            His doctors called it a miracle, his surgeon boasted of the skill and precision of the surgery, and Yongguk, well he considered it to be an absolute curse. He had given everything up. He was prepared to give everything up. He was willingly accepting death, hell, he even welcomed it with open arms, and there death was, rejecting his appeal and choosing to make him suffer instead. miracles. fate, everything.

            His doctors and nurses greeted him with huge smiles. He ignored their questioning glares, as he showed nothing but annoyance. Yongguk knew he was being a total to the people that took care of him for the past six months. But quite honestly, he didn’t give two s. All he wanted to do was die, but apparently, it was too great of a wish to be granted.

            Just what was he suppose to tell Junhong?

            That he had fatal cancer so he left to protect Junhong’s heart but then he kicked cancer’s and now wants Junhong back? What did that made Junhong exactly? A toy to be thrown away and picked up? Just how was he suppose to explained not telling Junhong? After all, he was the one that told him to believe in them and their relationship. What kind of a hypocrite did it make him if he couldn’t even oblige by his own morals? Saying that he did it to protect him was like saying, “sorry, Junhongah, but I didn’t really believe in my 15%, or us, sorry” and shrug it off like nothing ever happened? Could he even just walk back into the boy’s life after wrecking it for six months?

            More importantly did he even have the right to do so?

            Looking back at it, there are so many things Yongguk regrets. Each and every one of those things curved painful scars into his heart.

            Maybe he was irrational back then, maybe he should’ve spent the last six months comforting Junhong instead of running away.

            Maybe      he should’ve been more of a man

            Maybe      he should’ve believed in fate

            Maybe      he should’ve believed in them.

            This and that, that and this, them and us, us and them, the technical jargons of life have finally gotten to Yongguk.

            Because Yongguk and Junhong and Junhong and Yongguk were done. 

            What if he found someone else?

Yongguk hadn’t really even considered the last scenario of Junhong finding someone else, of falling in love again, of moving on.

            If that just so happened to be the case then, it would open a whole slew of reasons to as why Yongguk had no right to return to Junhong.

            Junhong remembers.           

            “I’ll never forget”

            Thirty-six months, twelve days later, he still remembers. Body filled with lethargy turning at the crack of dawn, hoping to face the shadow of the man he loves. “I believe in us”

            Everyday was a struggle to get out of bed, to go to work and to come back to their empty, shared apartment.

            But he lives on, in a cyclic pattern, for that glimmer of hope. For that one chance of opening their door one day to find the older man sitting the bed, perhaps the sofa, welcoming him with open arms.

            He cries often, mind drowsy and tired from the raised hopes and constant defeat. “Real life doesn’t have happy endings.”

            “But yet you believed”

            “For Yongguk I believed”

            Conversations with himself seemed amusing enough. He cuts off all social connections. “Me, myself and I”

            “Are all the people you need.”

            Junhong furrows his brows. Glancing at his right hand, as if some external warmth had just touched it. He almost scoffs, but refrains from doing so because he remembers just how much Yongguk hated his scoffs. “Even after three years I still remember.”

            Twenty-five years, tomorrow he will be twenty-five. Far past his adolescence. Far past his boyish appearance. Far past it all.

            He counts; Yongguk was in his thirties. Past his peak of youth, spending it, hopefully, exactly how he wants to.

            “I expected this, even though it hurts, I expected this. Spent the past twenty-four years of my life preparing for this kind of thing. I’m prepared” Junhong points to the mirror with lips quivering and releases a shaky breathe.  

            He doesn’t quite buy it either.

Not prepared

Heart shattered

Hope broken.

            Yongguk remembers.

            “I’ll take the blame, you’re the victim, in time you will heal.”

            Unable to come up with the courage to face Junhong, Yongguk learns to observe from a far. Picking up an apartment near Junhong’s place of residence. He observes, because that’s all he really deserves.

            It doesn’t take him long to realize that Junhong isn’t healing. It takes one glance at the younger’s visage to realize that he was still hurting.

            And after nearly three years of observation, those hopeless orbs didn’t change.

            The fact of the matter was, Junhong couldn’t move on.

            And Yongguk, reluctantly, painfully slowly accepted that fact.

            “I hurt you. I don’t deserve you.”

            Because he was a murderer, the destroyer of a young boy’s hopes and spirits.

            And murderers don’t deserve to be happy.

            “I don’t deserve you.” He repeats as if it were some sort of a mantra. Day in and day out he observe the lethargic boy from a far. Recently he had taken the bold move of trailing the boy to work. Junhong had been too tired to even notice the presence of his, well, everything.

            Honestly speaking, Yongguk knew why he chose to remain by Junhong’s side. He did so because he wanted to keep an eye on the broken boy. He wanted to make sure that, in the heat of the moment of heartbreak at the younger male doesn’t do something stupid.

            Putting it like that made Yongguk out to be a guardian angel of some sort. Something, he absolutely was not. The archangel parallel suited him better.

            “It’s for the better”

            A lie repeated over and over again, until it became a trite statement, overused to a point that it was no longer believable.

             “I’m protecting him”

            The older male almost scoffs each and every time those words leave his lips. They weren’t the truth. The truth was before his eyes, he was hurting Junhong, obliterating the boy into tiny pieces. With each passing day, with each passing hour, with each ing passing second, Junhong was dying a little bit more on the inside. The hope that maybe Yongguk would one day show up on their sofa was dying.
            He was dying.

            And Yongguk could, quite literally, see it.

            Tiredness and lethargy was winning the battle against Junhong’s resolves.

            Junhong, the boy he vowed to protect, the boy he left to protect was dying, in spirit, because of him.

            Because of his cowardice

                        Coward.

            Yongguk grips his hair so hard that he swears he’s pealing away at his own scalp.

            Everyday he nudges away the urge to run across to the arms of the boy, who now sported midnight blue hair.

            Everyday he slaps away the desire to dial that same number he knows Junhong didn’t change.

            And everyday, his coward side succeeds.

            Because God knows what will happen.

            Because Yongguk couldn’t bear with the shame of meeting Junhong again.

            Because     it’s for the better

            Because     he deserves it

            Because     it hurts

            So it has to be the right thing to do.

            With hands seemed to be in a state of perpetuated tightening, Yongguk lives on as the silent observer.

            While Junhong struggles on as the abandoned, broken spirit

             Pushing aside the tears, the hurt, the heartache, the duo dug, dug deep into the abyss of their relationship.

            Because the solace they seek is the in memories of the heart.

            The things are can’t be forgotten.

            Even though Yongguk doesn’t realize that closure lays a click of a button away. Even though Junhong doesn’t realize that the answers he seeks are right across the street from him. Even though it is completely within their power to save whatever is left behind. What the heart decides to be too much to handle can’t be forced by the mind, despite how ration the choice seems to be.

            So they remain, separated by mere yards, by physical standards they were close. By mental and emotion scales they were worlds apart.  Yongguk was held back by his nature of fearing the worse case scenarios. Junhong, on the other hand, was held back by the simple lack of desire to pursue, the lack of desire to dream, hope and most importantly, the unwillingness to act.

            Life

            Living

            Breathing

            Speaking

            Thinking

            Functions they perform involuntarily suddenly became harder.

            Each and every day seemed like a never-ending struggle.

            So why live?

            Simple.

            For the sake of remembrance.

            Simply because they remember how happy life can be.

            Simply because they remember one another

            Simply because…

            They remember

Author's Note

The results of depression <3 

pessimistic Junhong is SOAH cute 

Comment if you want a sequel owo (happy ending sequel) //winkwink