Second Chances
Second Chances
Letting go of the past and beginning again, isn't forgetting the pain that was caused. It's simply forgiving, moving on, living and loving again. To hold onto the hurt is to deprive yourself and someone else of a beautiful relationship. -Unknown
He was perfect; absolutely, flawlessly perfect. Dark eyes, deep voice, and ebony black hair that framed an equally dark complexion, he was the very definition of tall, dark and handsome. Himchan had always been fond of the other man’s hair, cropped short at the sides, fringe hanging loosely over his eyebrows in an attempt to look menacing; fierce. Occasional hairstyles pulled back with hair gel were hidden beneath a black and white snapback, tossing it on carelessly before the bell signaling the end of class even had a chance to ring. He wasn’t particularly popular, but he was definitely known. Girls from neighbouring classes knew him as ‘the mysterious guy with the mysterious name that rarely spoke but when he did it drove people insane’. It wasn’t like he was a bad guy. He just opted not to speak so much as to not say the wrong things at the inappropriate times. To others, his exterior might’ve seemed somewhat cold and unforgiving, but all of that melted away whenever they caught sight of his lover – or, boyfriend at the time; his hard and piercing gaze immediately crinkling into the fondest of smiles, baring soft gums and a set of perfect pearly whites. He’d return the gesture, albeit somewhat timidly (in front of their friends, anyway), before the rest of the group parted ways, and then his hand searched the other’s and their fingers are tangling messily as soon as their fingertips touched, sparks of electricity still being sent down both their spines despite having done this every single day for the past thirty-two months.
Himchan’s usually the eager one, clutching tightly at his hand or the sleeve of his grey uniform blazer as he tugged the both of them around the school’s corner, along a wired fence that lined the courtyard and into their cozy spot dictated by the ends of the metal structure. And then no time and useless talk were wasted by the both of them as lips fell onto necks, noses brushed, and all it took was a whispered ‘Bbang’, and a ‘Chan’ in reply before he kissed him again. And again, and again. ‘I’ve missed you’, ‘I need you’, ‘I love you’s’ need not be said. They were merely exchanged through gentle touches, lingering fingers, and delicate kisses that neither of them ever seemed to get enough of. Strong masculine arms curled around a slender waist as the latter’s own pale ones found their way around his neck, warm breath hovering over the pale flesh of Himchan’s earlobe. Careful fingers travelled up to brush along the taller man’s cheek, tracing over plump lips and skin pulled taught over elegant collarbones. The other would respond, then, giving his fingers an appreciative nip or bringing their foreheads together with a low chuckle, everything as easy as it’s always been.
He was perfect. They were perfect.
His name was Bang Yongguk. And Himchan loved him very, very much.
--
Something cold nudges him awake. He stirs, turning in his sleep in the direction of the offender, only to be met with a bump under the blankets that stopped him from going any further. Cracking an eye open, he squints against the sunlight filtering through the windows before peeking over at the thing now nuzzled into his neck, a loving grin immediately finding its way onto his lips. She was petite, yet beautifully so, a small pout etched onto her features as she burrows further into the pillow, sighing contentedly once the comfort lay itself over her again. Having given up on sleep, he lay there in silence, cheek perched in one hand and he watches her; the way the sun bathed her long locks in a golden halo, the way her delicate features bunched together occasionally as if deep in thought. She was gorgeous, and subconsciously he reaches out to sweep his fingers across her forehead, effectively removing the strands of stray hair from the girl’s sleeping face.
Suddenly a groggy female voice snaps him out of his stupor, breath airy and laced with sleep as she slips a slender hand into his larger one, giving it a light squeeze. “Mmnn-- Guk..?” He jumps, meeting her bleary smile before he murmurs, “Sorry, princess. Did I wake you?” She hums, releasing their hands in favour of slinging an arm lazily over his neck, opting to scoot in closer in the process before shaking her head. “No, not really. I need to be awake anyway,” she mumbles into the crook of his neck and shoulder. They both know there’s no time for lying around today, though, so she sits up with a yawn and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Go wash up, I’ll make you breakfast.”
It wasn’t until later that Yongguk walks out of the bathroom to the smell of sizzling kimchi omelettes and bacon, along with rice and tofu steaming about in the cooker. It always amazed him how his girlfriend of 3 years and now-fiancee still managed to surprise him with new aromas every morning. He slides his arms around her and she gives a start, nearly smacking him in the face with the spatula as he moves to give her earlobe a nip. “Something smells delicious,” he notes, nuzzling her shoulder blade when she turns her head and frowns cutely at him. “Guk! Don’t scare me like that, I almost dropped my bacon!” She turns back to plate the food and nearly sighs in mock-exasperation when he only tightens his hold on her waist, chin perched daintily on her shoulder. “Love you too, Lizzy bear.”
Forty-five minutes later and he’s wrapped snugly in his new navy blue button-down, white dress shirt pressed and briefcase in hand, ready for another day at work. Her nimble fingers make deft work of his tie, but he knows she likes to take her time; likes to feel the warmth of his chest against hers, and the creases of the fabric beneath her fingertips. When she’s done she gives a light tug at the article and brings their lips together, just a short, sweet kiss to see him off for the day. He looks down at her smile and vaguely remembers what his first love had been like back all those years ago; back when they were still young… still in love.
--
They were teenagers, barely just calling themselves freshmen in the snobby, religious high school they both attended. Uniform policies were strictly adhered to, class schedules were tight and not a single hair was allowed to be out of place. But out of their population of 300, of rowdy boys and dangerous girls, they found each other. They found love. They might’ve been naïve back then; immature and loving too freely, but they were each other’s sanctuary. From classmates to acquaintances to best friends to lovers, they were convinced that having their own world was enough, that nothing else mattered as long as they were together and had each other’s backs. And maybe, back all those years ago… it was.
Secret kisses in the janitor’s closet, intertwining pinkies underneath table tops, sharing half-melted ice cream under the sun… they did it all. They were the high school sweethearts who vowed themselves forever, who promised each other their hearts and their souls and spoke of a bright future ahead for the both of them, together.
They spent many a night sneaking out of open windows, each bundled in a double fleece-lined sweater on the chillier nights, slipping onto open patches at the park that bled into rolling hills of green. Here, away from the world’s judging eyes, was the only place that allowed them true freedom; although brutally temporary it was satiating enough to the romantic mind, where only the pale glow of the slivered moon and twinkling stars accompanied two whispers in the dark. Sometimes, if Himchan closed his eyes, let the gentle prickling of the grass rustle beneath his nape, he could convince himself that yes, this was all he really needed.
“Guk?”
“Mm?”
“Have you ever thought about… well, your future?”
“My future? Not really. Graduate from high school, go to a decent college, maybe discover my passion along the way… isn’t that what everyone wants? Why do you ask?”
“Oh.” The younger lets the words sink in. “Am I in that future?”
“Honestly? I… don’t know. I’d like to think so, though. Wouldn’t you?”
“I’d like that, of course I would. I mean… sometimes I think about forever, but it’s stupid, really. No one knows what it holds anyway, huh?”
“Forever’s a long commitment, you know. Maybe we’re a little too young to think about that. I just know that whatever life decides to throw at me, I’ll be more than ready to take it on with open arms. And in the meantime I’d like to live in the moment and enjoy every last second. Like right now. With you.”
“I love you, Bbang.”
“And you know I love you, Channie.”
--
“Guk? …Guk!”
He blinks, snapping out of his reverie to the sight of his somewhat amused fiancée. She wrinkles her nose, having long since released his tie and is now giving his chest a firm pat in question.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” At his look of confusion, she laughs. “You zoned out again. I was just reminding you to be home on time today, don’t forget we have dinner with my parents tonight.”
He chuckles, planting a kiss on her cheek before finally heading for the door. “I know, babe.” Hand on the doorknob, he pauses, turning around as if suddenly coming to a realization. “Oh! Speaking of dinner, our high school reunion next Saturday, at my old classmate’s place. All partners and spouses invited,” he winks. She nods, a thoughtful smile on her face as she moves to push the door shut behind him.
***
“Himchan hyung. Hyung. Hyung!”
“Wha—“
“Our flight. Terminal 3, 8:45pm on Tuesday next week. Don’t forget.” Daehyun, his current roommate and childhood friend, slides him a neatly wrapped package of papers tucked in an envelope, in it containing their tickets, boarding passes and payment receipts. It was during these times that he was really grateful for a friend like him, though he doesn't necessarily say it.
“I won’t, I won’t.” He says, ignoring his friend’s look of concern as he lets his cheek slump back against his fist with a resigned sigh, gaze pointed out the window of the café they were currently sitting in.
The shorter male plops down on the bench across him, a worried frown etched on his handsome features. “What’s wrong, hyung? You’re finally going back to Seoul again, shouldn’t you be excited? Not even your old friends? Don’t you miss them?” He pauses to shovel in a bite of his apple cheesecake, waving his fork for emphasis, “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”
He makes a face at his wide eyed, cheek puffed companion who currently had his mouth stuffed full, words barely comprehensible through the food. Himchan watches his friend slurp at his iced coffee; counts the number of times his adam’s apple bobs on its way down. A nod. “I guess…”
“Hyung… it’s about him again, isn’t it?”
“Wha— n-no, I didn't-- no! I just…” His response is indignant, though he gives up with a groan, staying silent for a moment before jerking back up and grabbing onto his younger friend’s upper arm. “Daehyun, what if he doesn’t remember me? What if he’s forgotten and I’m the only one looking like an idiot? What if… what if he doesn’t want to care about… his promise… he told me he’d wait for me.”
At Daehyun’s eye roll, the elder only pouts and crosses his arms again. “Ugh, give it up, hyung. Life goes on, you must too. He’s in your past now; you guys are nothing but a memory. If he’s already forgotten and moved on, then… you deserve to find your own happiness too, y’know.”
He frowns. It wasn’t that he’d been hanging on; it wasn’t that he couldn’t let go of something that was evidently so far in the past. It was more like not being able to find the closure he’d wished they had, despite being forced apart he’d rather not have had to be hanging on a thread for the past five or so years. Did their relationship, no matter how short, really mean that little to the other? If he were to be honest, he was nervous. Curious to see how much has changed, to say the least.
He was sure they both look different, now; older and more mature. Did he have facial hair, maybe? A different colour? Glasses? Was he taller now? Himchan tugs at the ends of his own blonde fringe, in the process catching his reflection in the window. His eyebags look a little heavier today, yes, maybe a little more wary but he’d like to think puberty served him well. Gone were the awkward bits of baby fat, contact lenses having long replaced his round reading glasses, and he’s finally managed to firm up his muscles after months of working out and dieting. All in all, you could say… he was happy with himself. He was far from ugly, had spas and facials done regularly, his hair was glossy and he was comfortable in his own skin.
Himchan thinks about himself, and then he thinks about Yongguk, and he wonders how much a person can change with time. He imagines the elder to still possess that rich, velvety voice, though it always went an octave too high when it used to crack in his prepubescent days, which were only followed by the most adorable beet red cheeks. The same ones that tinged pink in a shy confession to Himchan; the ones plastered with sweat and lust during their very first time, awkward and inexperienced, on top of Yongguk’s couch while his parents were out of town for the weekend.
He remembers it all; perhaps some too vividly. But he knew what they had was real; nobody could deny their chemistry. Sometimes he wonders, guiltily, if they still would’ve been possible if they ever met again.
--
Fairytales are funny things, really. Everyone wants to experience that kind of love story, don't they? They all want to live a fantasy of a perfect girl meeting a perfect boy who then fall in love, overcome all adversity and live a happily ever after. But then again, these are made with the purpose of entertaining children; the only ones who possess the naivety to believe that maybe, that kind of life is possible in every 'princess's’ life. Simple life lessons swirled into a harmony of perfect story line and adorably drawn characters. And then we grow up, and we no longer see the world through a blank canvas; we stop believing that people and society are as pure as we used to know it as. Instead, we start to see the ugly that's been so carefully shielded with a coat of sugar, and maybe everything starts to taste a little less sweet and a lot more bitter.
And like every fairytale, no matter how perfect, has to come to an end. Every relationship, between two lovers, or two friends, or even two siblings, cannot be without bumps in the road. Yet unfortunately, when it came to living in a homophobic society as this, as subjective and unforgiving as this, there is no fair treatment on their part; no acceptance; and their so called “bumps” are so much more than just the little potholes littering the streets. And when these stories reach its conclusion, all the effort in the world cannot force it to continue. As goes in a relationship; no matter how unconditional one thinks of their love and connection, no force can counter the one destined to pull it apart when it says they must not carry on.
--
The day his father discovered his secret was one he'd never forget.
'"No, appa please..."
"Shut up, you disgusting child, don't you dare speak a word of him ever again. You may not speak to him, look at him, or so much as breathe in his direction ever again."
"But--"
"Enough, Himchan. We're moving."
Even through a quivering breath and a blurred vision, he heard them loud and clear.
"Moving?!" His face burned with contempt; his fists painfully clenched as the tears poured relentlessly down his porcelain cheeks. "I won't do it. You can't make m-- nng!"
Even though the stinging of his cheek when the slap came into impact was expected, it didn't make it hurt any less. His lower lip quivered, shaky hand trailing the spot now blooming a bright red.
"I said shut up! Don't you dare step foot out of your room all week. We go when I say so."
And that was that.
--
When Yongguk comes home, a week and a half later, to the sight of his fiancee twirling in a bright red dress, humming to herself in the living room, he thinks that this girl might just be his forever.
"Someone looks ready to party tonight," he muses with a casual rake over her slim figure, taking in the way the silky red fabric hugged every curve in all the right places. "Gotta look good standing next to my handsome prince," she returns with a lazy grin as her arms curl around his neck, his free arm coming around her torso for a gentle embrace.
"Uh huh. And this must be the biggest honour ever to have this gorgeous lady accompanying me."
"Yeah, yeah. Now go get ready so we can actually get there, prince."
--
Turns out the party is held at none other than the residence of Kim Junmyeon, a fellow senior in their graduating alumni and the guy that had a chauffeur drive him to school every week. Five years later and he's the heir to the largest automobile company in the country, son of CEO Mr. Kim.
He's almost overwhelmed when they step out of his red convertible, opening to a large, neatly trimmed lawn lined with iron gates and marble decor. The couple walks in, arm in arm, to a hall full of faces even Yongguk barely knows; probably the same bunch of kids that hung around Junmyeon back then for free food and free things. Crystal chandeliers hung from high rise ceilings, the long buffet tables draped in gold and mahogany and the room was surrounded by platters upon platters of amuse bouche and cold appetizers.
"Bang Yongguk!" He turns, and a short, slim male makes his way over to clap the elder on the shoulder. "You made it! With a beautiful lady, I might add."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Junmyeon. And ah, yes. This is Lizzy. Lizzy, Junmyeon."
The latter opts for a warm smile and a rushed introduction before he's off again, shouting something over his shoulder.
"Well, I'm glad. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lizzy-ssi. Too many guests, can't talk, but do enjoy yourself."
The large, open reception hall is slowly starting to fill; all men and women dressed in their best attire as if this was an event made to welcome the king. Yongguk finds it a little too extravagant, but he isn't nearly surprised because, after all, this is Mr. Kim. He sees tiny groups of his former classmates and acquaintances, now all young adults nearing their mid twenties, much like himself. They've only managed to settle themselves by the open bar situated at one end of the connected kitchen and pick up a glass of wine before yet another familiar figure emerges.
"Hyung! What a pleasant surprise."
"And if it isn't Yoo Youngjae. Long time, long time. What's up?" He gets up from his corner to properly greet the other with a nod and a handshake, noticing how much the other has grown in the time they've been apart. Definitely handsome, and not the shy, nerdy kid stuck behind the library shelves whenever class was out. He says as much, and Youngjae thanks him with a laugh.
"Ah, likewise, Guk hyung. And who might this be?"
"Lizzy." This time she speaks up with a smile. "I've heard some about you, Youngjae ssi."
"Good things, I hope?" He adds, reaching to give Yongguk's shoulder a squeeze. "Come, I'll take you to meet the others! I gotta say I'm surprised he managed to land such a pretty one. Our Yongguk has definitely been an interesting friend."
"Shut up, kid. You taking me to the others or what?"
"Ah, of course. I hope you don't mind me stealing him away for a moment, noona?"
Yongguk looks somewhat wary but she gives him an encouraging nod and a wave of her hand saying 'I'll be fine, you go have fun' before she turns to look for another glass of champagne. To which Youngjae beams at and tugs excitedly at his arm, towards the direction in which the rest of the old friends were standing.
"I think there's someone you'll be happy to see, actually."
Yongguk snorts. "Who, the Busan boy? Didn't he come over for like, three days back when we had the exchange student?" He looks incredulous, even through the rim of his glass as he raises it carefully to his lips. "You actually kept in contact with him?"
"Tch, no. Well-- sort of, but he brought someone with him. And it was two weeks, dammit! I-- yes, yes I do. Problem?"
"Still cute as ever, I see. Some things never change, huh?" By now they're both laughing, Youngjae giving him a playful punch in the shoulder in retaliation for Yongguk ruffling his hair as they make their way towards the small group.
"Jae! We were just-- oh, is this the friend you were telling me about?"
The elder of the two addressed turns his head to the new voice, and-- oh. He thinks he just lost his breath when his eyes land on a pair of equally dark ones, coupled with a tight smile and blonde hair and--
"Yeah," a grin from the one standing beside him. "Dae, this is Yongguk hyung. And this is--"
"...Himchan."
"No, hyung. It's--"
"Wait, he's Yongguk? Bang Yongguk?" Daehyun becomes the speechless one, eyes wide as Youngjae glances between them in confusion, having given up on trying to continue. "Yeah... you two know each other or..?"
"No one told me..." And then Yongguk brushes politely past the two of them, towards the one he's been focusing on since he laid eyes on him from afar.
"Himchan.."
"What—oh. Hi, Yongguk."
"H-hey,” He swallows. It's almost hard to believe this Himchan was the same boy he'd been in love with for so long, and had so many memories with. "How… are you? I thought... I thought you were... Busan..." It's becoming increasingly hard to form coherent thoughts, and his grip on the glass tightens. He doesn't exactly know what to make of this situation.
"I was. I... flew here. Last week."
He nods, feeling somewhat out of place for having this conversation with everyone bustling around them. "Mind joining me on the balcony?"
"I guess. I mean, uh, sure."
The pair squeezes their way between the guests as they head for the long flight of stairs, the polished wooden banister making way for another ascending set that ultimately leads to the double glass doors, opening into a wide-set view of the city. A scatter of people is still standing in the area, each immersed in conversation with the intentions of getting some fresh air up there. Tiny red lights of commercial headquarters blink steadily in the darkness, the constant rush of traffic cruising in fluid lines with its white lights rounding along the edges of the highways. It’s strangely beautiful; calming, though the awkward silence that hung around them for the entirety of the journey lingers thickly between them.
Himchan is the first to break it, bravely exhaling with an attempt at a light hearted smile. "Wonderful, isn't it? I've always known the city was more of my scene. Don't you think?" Yongguk could only frown. This was not the opening he had expected. So he tries again.
"Five years, Himchan..."
There was no question what he was referring to. The other falls silent, dropping his gaze as he moves forward to lean his arms against the metal railings lining the balcony, nose pointed to the wind. "...You knew I had no choice."
"But you just... left, like that... you left everything behind."
Himchan spins around to that, about to retort with a comment about not being entirely at fault, but Yongguk isn't looking at him anymore. The dark-haired male swirls the golden liquid in his glass with a bitter chuckle, words spilling into the air as the breeze ruffles at the ends of his carefully-combed locks, deep voice much gruffer than Himchan's ever remembered it. His expression leaves him uneasy, almost like he has so much more to say, but he merely runs his tongue over the corner of his lips before letting the smoothness of the alcohol past them.
"Do you ever wonder..." the blonde male starts, fingernails tapping gently against the railing. His tone is hesitant; unsure. "...if we would've been possible if we maybe...tried a little harder?”
He can’t help but to still try. “Mistakes… mistakes can always be corrected.”
“Yeah, but,” Yongguk laughs, hard and breathy, dark orbs flickering over to Himchan for a moment, almost apologetic for every could’ve, would’ve, should’ve. He shakes his head, finishes off the champagne. It’s lost its luster, having been left sitting for so long, and the aftertaste is more bitter than refreshing. The thought makes him too conscious of their past relationship. Of having every spark burn out and only just confronting each other this very moment. “It’s funny how much time can change a person.”
It’s a fact that neither of them can deny. People change. Things change. Time changes everything. He wishes so badly to convince himself that this is the same Bang Yongguk he used to be in love with; the same best friend he used to share secrets with, under messily-made blankets and handheld flashlights. He doesn’t want anything to be different. He wants to get to know this new Yongguk, all over again. If he was given one more shot at love, he’d go after Yongguk, every time, without question.
Now that he looks, really looks, he’s seeing how much Yongguk has aged. His features no longer held the hormonal breakouts of an 18 year old, but his 24 year old self is no stranger to darkening eye bags and withering skin. That didn’t mean he looked any less perfect to Himchan, though. Those beautiful, slender digits wrapped around an equally elegant goblet are the same ones that used to give him so much warmth; so much protection during both the best and the worst days they’ve spent together.
He’s long since belonged to you, a voice nags at the back of his head. Let him go, Daehyun’s words echo now.
“You don’t understand. I’m only trying to salvage what I can, it’s a ty attempt but I just want to fix things between us. Look, I know it’s been long but—“
“Guk? Sweetheart?” A voice sounds in the near distance. A voice… very, very unfamiliar. Things go quiet for a moment and Himchan’s about to start talking again before the voice pops up again, with a face this time. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” It’s a girl, too innocent to look anywhere near his age but when she smiles directly at Yongguk (his Yongguk, he thinks bitterly), his expression falls.
“Who is she,” he demands more than inquires, teeth clenched and jaw tight. He refuses to believe all those years of distance meant nothing to his ex—well, everything. The same voice in him tells him the gut wrenching pain now pulling at his stomach has nothing to do with the funny-looking shrimp he had earlier. No, this is much… much more.
He’s not jealous; he can’t be. Right? It’s been much too long for someone normal to still feel this strongly for another. Yet something deep inside him knows that he’d never be able to compete with this younger, prettier, better girl standing in front of him.
“Himchan… this… is Lizzy. We’re going to be married soon.”
“—oh.”
He can only nod, an empathetic, yet sad smile pulled tight at his lips. The girl stands close to him, one arm around his as she looks on expectantly.
Yongguk is a faithful man. He knew as much, and as desperately as Himchan would love o have him in his life again, he couldn’t bring himself to watch Yongguk’s happiness crumble because of his selfish being.
Himchan is not an unreasonable person, after all.
So he smiles, eyes void of any real emotion, and nods a response. “I’m glad,” he manages through a steady exhale.
“Well, then.” He returns it, gaze fixed solely on the male in front of him. “I hope you’ll be very, very happy together… Yongguk-ssi.” With that, he turns on his heels with one last bow of his head, and leaves.
Rewinding time is not possible, but do-overs are; sometimes we get another chance to do something right the second time that we got wrong the first time.
--
But some things, no matter how sturdy, cannot be protected from the storm. Perhaps those things were meant to be torn away. Once the old things are gone; only then can the more beautiful things grow in their place.
Sometimes, not every chance for a do-over implies being able to forget the past and start from the very beginning. A second chance is like a shattered vase; no matter how much glue is used to piece it back together, the cracks will always be there, a reminder that despite your attempts, the vase will never be whole again; that the uneven gaps and fractures are only mended, but not fixed. Attached, but not seamless. Perfection is just a breath away, but, unless replaced, will never be reached again.
There's a time and place for everything. Opportunities don't always arrive at the right place; at the right time. Second chances come few and far between.
Perhaps, he thinks, heart light as he descends the grand staircase, his second chance simply came too late.
Sometimes, saying goodbye is the second chance we need.
//END//
Comments