I’ve known him since I was about five years old.

We lived in the same compound, in the same group of family friends, and I would see him playing basketball with the bigger kids at the court a few minutes’ walk from our house. He was small and scrawny, trying to keep up with his older brother and his friends as they ran back and forth, dribbling the ball between their slightly bigger hands.

It was only a glimpse, barely anything really, when I would look at the court from my seat under a tree and see them all drenched in sweat and with the widest smiles on their faces, before I shrug in mild disgust and look back at the picture book spread out on my lap.

I was young. We both were.

My only concern at the time revolved around the newest toy out at the mall or that new television show with robots or the books the librarian would lend me because she found me cute. I had no time to be bothered with sweaty boys running around in the sun.

He was no different.

In fact, he even had a younger sister and she was the one everyone used to tease me with because we were the same age.

But between him and me? Nothing.

*

“Ouch, you make it sound so harsh.”

“It’s the truth!”

“I was kind of hoping you’d make this giant revelation about actually harboring feelings for me all those years ago—”

“Hyukjae.”

“No harm in spicing up a few things for the kids, Hae.”

“Hyukjae, we’ve talked about this.”

“Okay, fine.”

“May I continue now?”

“Yes.”

*

Fast forward to college and through the years, I’d already quite established my status as a resident nerd. I grew up with a love for books and girls often steered clear of me when there was no homework involved. It didn’t bother me all that much, I’d somehow figured out my uality by then.

In fact, I even met the “love of my life”.

He was charming, popular, and most of all, he liked me despite my glasses and bookish tendencies. I guess you could say he was the man of my dreams and when he confessed to me, there was not even an ounce of hesitation in my ‘yes’ and thus began the start of a 6-year long relationship. I’d hate to sound cliché but I suppose it was the high-school-sweetheart-turned-serious sort of thing.

Except that we would be fighting constantly, breaking up every time things would get rough but end up crawling back into each other’s arms when neither of us could handle the time apart.

I kept this on and off relationship well into my college years.

*

“I guess this is where I come in.”

“Hey, give me back the mic--”

“Donghae, we’ve talked about this.”

“Okay, fine.”

*

He was in a batch lower than mine, and though our parents are friends, we would only exchange a few awkward hellos when we accidently meet in hallways. Sometimes, we don’t even bother.

I had my own circle of friends, and he had his.

Unlike Donghae here, I didn’t have such a scandalous or troublesome relationship that plagued me, so I enjoyed my college years thorough—

*

“Context!”

“Hae, I barely got 5 sentences out.”

“We need to give them some context! Give that to me,” He snatched the microphone, smiling slightly at the chuckles he received from the students, “this guy here was a real Casanova.”

“I was not!”

“Had a girl wrapped around his arm every single time he walked down the hall, giggling at every single thing he said, and batting their eyelashes every single time he looked their way. A real charmer, this one.”

“He’s exaggerating.”

“Do you guys know that even until now, when we’re walking in the mall, or anywhere actually-”

“Donghae, this isn’t in the script-”

“-random girls would come up to us—just Hyukjae actually—say hello, ask how he is, and this guy doesn’t even have the decency to remember them?”

“I really don’t!”

“And that, my friends, proves my point.”

“Are you finished?”

“Yes.”

*

In any case, college zoomed by rather quickly and save for, I have to admit, a few flings here and there, I was on the road to a fresh new start.

‘Donghae, don’t scoff.’

‘I didn’t!’

I spent the first few months canvasing for a good and stable job. My brother helped me through these times, and to be perfectly honest, romance was the last thing on my mind.

At my early twenties, I couldn’t help but dream big, someday earning buckets of money and maybe having my own big house, a giant swimming pool, and fancy cars—things like that. I knew I had to start small though, and when my brother told me about how I could get into a prestigious school that offered a masteral degree, I pounced on the opportunity.

Never mind that it was all the way in the States.

Before I knew it, I had my suitcase in hand and on the next flight to America.

*

“Meanwhile, I wasn’t so lucky.”

“Oh, here goes…”

“Can I say this? I feel like I need to say this. Okay, I’ll say this.”

Students chuckled as they watched Hyukjae lean back and stretch his arms over his head.

“My mother was not as wealthy as Hyukjae’s over here. She worked hard to get me to attend the college I wanted and I balanced part-time jobs as a student to raise enough money so that once I graduate, I could get my ultimate dream job as a teacher.”

“In the States.”

“Well, yes, in the States.”

“Hae, are you sure you didn’t secretly aim to stalk me this whole time?”

“Excuse you, I’ve had this dream since high school. Oh and by the way, kids, by that time, I’d finally broken up with my 6-year long prince charming—don’t wiggle your eyebrows at me, Lee Hyukjae.”

“I’m not!”

“Anyway, I do end up landing the job I’ve always wanted once I graduated and when I heard that he was working somewhere near my area, I’d ask mom about how Hyukjae was doing since she is still good friends with his mom. There was no hidden meaning, it just crossed my mind at the time—nothing, really.”

“Mm-hmm. Okay, Donghae, give me the mic.”

*

By the time I’d finally settled in my own apartment near the university, my mom suddenly phones in and tells me that Donghae would be moving in as well. She badgered me about being a gentleman, telling me to help him move in all the furniture, and that he must be having a hard time away from his family. That the poor boy was probably homesick.

‘I wasn’t homesick.’

‘He really wasn’t.’

I made no promises, but I did tell her I would at least give him a call. I was late for school then, and mom just wouldn’t put down the phone until I gave some sort of confirmation that I’d help Donghae out. To be perfectly honest, I was keen on her forgetting about my little promise and it worked for a while.

That was, until a few weeks later, she phoned in again and excitedly made me list down Donghae’s number since he’d finally connected a landline in his apartment—she could be quite suffocating.

Eventually, I did end up having to call him and purposely did somewhat late in the morning, just so that I could increase the chance of him being out of his apartment.

Do you know that feeling when you’re on the phone and it’s ringing and you just pray with every ounce of your being that the answering machine picks up?

That was how I felt.

And every single time I remember this, I feel an urge to just stop and thank the heavens for not answering my prayers that day. Because that phone call was the first time Donghae and I ever really spoke, and it was a call that lasted 3 hours straight.

3 hours.

I was late for school and missed a few classes but I didn’t give a single damn, and went to bed that night thinking ‘this Donghae…he’s pretty okay.’

 *

“Pretty okay? Just ‘pretty’ okay?”

“Hae, be quiet and let me finish.”

“Fine.”

*

It had been a while since I’ve concerned myself with things outside of academic work and I guess you could say I missed the ‘thrill’ of it all. My last fling with a guy was many awkward years ago and that phone call with Donghae might have triggered something in me