“If I were to die tomorrow, how would you feel?”

“I’d probably lie down next to you and die as well.”

It was a silly question asked by a silly boy.

It was a silly answer given by a silly girl.

It was supposed to stay that way: a vivid memory of deep feelings. We met by coincidence and got together by fate. We had our up-and-downs, but our feelings were sincere. And yet I was assisting to a scene like taken from a noir movie: we, the black reapers accompanying a white coffin, a procession of mourning black umbrellas under the heavy rain that fell from the oily dark sky.

We came to a halt in front of the muddy hole where he, Park Chanyeol was going to sleep his eternity. I tried to turn a blind eye to his mother’s pain, her scrapped knees and skirt stained by mud, I tried to stay deaf to her hysterical cry by staring at the white rose I was holding. And then I realized: I was supposed to bury it with the man that had known only laughter his entire life, with the man that was now cold and stiff and was never going to answer to my callings; I was supposed to lie down next to him and forget this world for the next one. But only my white rose was going to represent all that I am, all that I ever was and felt for the man that once went by the name of Park Chanyeol.

“Would someone like to say some words?” The priest’s voice was muffed down by the pattering of the cold droplets against the so many umbrellas.

I found myself stepping out from the crowd while holding tight on my flower.

“I hope you went away while laughing and felt no pain when Death stole you away,” I knelt next to the still open grave, staring at the white coffin. It felt so, so wrong! “I also hope you no longer hear your mother or these words. Find happiness in the next world and if you’re ever to be born again into this world, avoid me at all coasts. Go in peace now, Park Chanyeol,” the flower and the muddy clod fell on the coffin’s lid with a muffed thud.

People don’t realize what they had until they lose it. Just like I didn’t know how to treasure his affection until the hours that followed his mother’s call.

“You put my brother there,” Yoora spat, her eyes showing nothing but pure hate. “I hope you end up in Hell!”

Her slap echoed across the silent cemetery.

×  ♣ ×

“Heya! It’s me, Chanyeol. And, assuming that I know you and you know me, leave a message – OUCH! Seon Yul,  that hurt! – what was I saying, oh, yeah! Leave a message after the BEEP! And if I don’t know you, leave your full name, ‘cause I’m dumb. Bye!”

The beep echoed inside the room as I pressed the red button down and then the green one once again. I was still wearing my black attire in which I attended his funeral while the wet umbrella was resting next to me on the floor – both tangible evidence of the tragedy. And yet, I was hooked to listening that message that directed me to his voicemail. Again and again, like a broken CD, his voice boomed clear and lively in my ear, always startling me, always making me turn around expecting to see him leaning against the door frame.

But he wasn’t there and the illusion was repeatedly dying away with that loud beep. So I pressed the dial button again and again, crazily wishing that he’d somehow pick up and tell me that he was on his way to the dorm.

“ – ‘cause I’m dumb. Bye!”

“Yes, you are very dumb, Park Chanyeol,” I cried as soon as the beep invited me once more to leave a message. “Why did you go away where I cannot follow? Why did you leave me behind? Why did you leave without saying goodbye?! You idiot! I didn’t mean it… forgive me,” I cried, slowly lying down in my own mess of water puddled together with a touch of mud. “Can’t you come back to me just this once? I’ll never hurt you again. Please?” I begged, making my own projection of him in front of me. And it suddenly felt like all those nights we used to just lie in bed and stare at each other, wordlessly, holding hands and staring at our fingers intertwined. How good my fingers were matching his! It felt as if we were meant to be and we both fell in love with that image. So, from then on, we held hands with every occasion that there was.

“ – OUCH! Seon Yul, that hurt! …”

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m crazy. I should have told you the truth that I’ve been seeing Chaelin and that I think I have schizophrenia and that… that… I was falling out of love with you because of Jongin, because of the way he looked at me and the way he kissed me, the way he made me battle myself, the way he woke up all my demons. I’ve been bad to you.”

“Bye!”

“Don’t go!” I yelled in the silence of my room, thousands of voices spatting back at me.

And that was it. Laying there on the floor of my room, in that pool of mud it felt like lying in the grave next to him. Only that mine was warm while his was deadly cold.

“… It’s me, Chanyeol…”

I could feel my brain burning as if it was breaking in two and I wished that was it: the end of everything. But instead of dying, it just made me feel awfully alive. And I screamed at the top of my lungs. I yelled his name and words I never guessed I knew, I yelled my love, I yelled my pain, I yelled my frustration of forgotten memories and how God couldn’t just leave me like that, perfectly happy in my ignorance.

In the morning I got up holding the dead phone in my right hand and moved to the cramped place under the bed. There I mourned myself. Go Seon Yul died third times in less than three months.

×  ♣ ×

“Please be careful with that,” I instructed the workers that came to move my boxes from the dorm room to the truck and then inside Chaelin’s apartment.

“That was the last one, miss,” the team leader took off his cap and wiped away his sweat with the back of his hand. “We’ll meet you back at the new place in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, thank you.” I flashed him an absent minded smile while looking around the now very awkward looking room.

It was hard to imagine that in that room once slept and studied a man called Park Chanyeol. It was hard to imagine his tall stature between those four walls while his spirit was running free God knows where. It was impossible for me to invoke his presence in the place that was now shabby without him around, so I turned my back on it and closed the door behind me.

This time it wasn’t going to be better. Because there wasn’t another Park Chanyeol around to tend my wounded soul for me, to caress me gently, to whisper me words of love. No, this time was going to be ten times worse as I had to live with the vivid memory of his betrayed expression back when I left him behind for another man. Kim Jongin.

“Are you alright?” Siwon gently asked while eyeing me through the rearview mirror.

I had chosen the back sit instead of the passenger one for the sole reason that I wanted to stay away from any source of warmth. I didn’t deserve to be close to anything that could comfort me. “I’ll never be alright,” I straightened the black fabric of my office pants.

And he drove in silence. But he was in pain as well. I could see how he was consuming himself over the fact that he was unable to aid his sister. So, when the car came to a halt in the parking lot and we stepped out, I stretched my hand out and touched his cheek for a second while looking him in the eyes. “Never doubt that I love you, ok? I loved you from the day you were brought inside my room and introduced as my big brother when I didn’t even knew the concept and I still love you, Siwon. And no matter what happens to me, I will love you.”

“I know, Seon Yul, I know,” he took my hand into his and led me inside the block of flats and then inside Chaelin’s condo.

The boxes had been neatly arranged on the right, next to the wall, while workers were carrying away other boxes which were filled with Chaelin’s things. It hurt me to see them handled by unknown people, so I turned away and walked around the apartment. Consisting of a bedroom, a living room, a small kitchen and a sumptuous bathroom, the apartment lacked the glowing it used to have when Chaelin was still around. It lacked the fascinating mess of clothes thrown on the sofa and bed, the glitter of her presence. Now it was just another living space in just another place.

“Oh, the mail is here already!” Siwon’s remark drew me out of the empty dressing.

“It must be the bill for electricity and gas. Chaelin always forgot to pay those in time,” I chuckled while opening one of my boxes that was filled with books.

“I don’t think that’s it. Look, it ha