A/n: This is just a random mish mash of how I pictured Heungsoo and Namsoon’s story on the presumption that Heungsoo never got transferred to Victory High and Namsoon never got to make up for his actions 3 years ago.

Sometimes when I look back, I still remember how the wind against my skin when I dashed across the soccer field and straight into his arms.

The adrenaline rush when we barely escaped after bashing up the bunch of gangsters from the neighbouring school.

How happy I was when he starting staying over at my place every night and called me a bastard when I stole bites out of his share of ramyun.

A story is called a story years later, and i guess this is my story.

Hello, I am Park Heungsoon.

With the wind, this familiar scent came to me

It fills up this street that we used

to walk together, I think about it again

+++

In 2008, I had the wildest dream of my life, and this dream actually came true. This dream started off as him walking into the first lesson of Middle School a whopping 2 hours late. Coincidentally, he ended up in the seat next to mine and he sat down, heaving and looking over at me. Go Namsoon, I saw written on the badge.

The rest of the dream got a little blurry around the edges.

I don’t remember how exactly we broke the ice, I guessed it just happened when he peeped over my back to read the comic I was reading. I can’t even remember what was its title.

Since this is a story, I should insert mandatory cliche lines. How do people start their story? From that day on seems to work here.

So from that day on, a lanky and headstrong guy called Go Namsoon barged into my life, made a mess of it, and left me all alone to clean up the mess.

It was easy being around him. We liked the same kind of things; ramyun, fighting and sleeping in class. We never had the kind of love normal kids got from their family, so it was natural to for me to depend on him. As a friend, as a family.

And I think at one point in time, I was his only family too. I still take pride in that fact until today.

Every morning he would be waiting for me outside my house, half asleep and banana milk in hand. We would walk to school slowly, side by side, shoulders barely touching.

At night, we ruled the neighbourhood. He was darn good in fighting, and I simply handed over my gang to him, letting him be the jjang. It was exhilarating to fight with him.  We were young and bold, with no understanding of consequences. We fought well. No one dared to touch the Tsunami and his side-kick and gang.

I remember kicking him hard in the groin when I heard people call me his side-kick. It was pretty satisfying.

Once, Namsoon got into pretty big trouble when he broke the glass panels in the convenience stall. I saved his sorry and got him to call me hyung. We went back to my place and had ramyun and he fell asleep using my arm as his pillow.

We repeated our daily routines, and now thinking back all I can remember are the bruises, stale ramyun and dirty socks. And the way his chest rose and fell when I watched him fall asleep, my arms around his.

I liked soccer as a kid. It was the only thing I had other than Namsoon. When I was on the field, I felt like I could beat the world.  I didn’t think I’ll eventually lose both of them.

One day, scouts from Seoul came during a match. They told me I was good, and I could be a pro. I told Namsoon about it, expecting him to be proud and to throw his arms around me, telling me I did well. But he didn’t. He muttered a soft, almost inaudible oh, eyes blinking wide before stalking off. I failed to notice the hitch of his breath and the unusual glint in his eyes. Coach called me back and I watched Namsoon walk away.

The next day, our routine fell back into place, and it felt like nothing ever happened - only his friendly punches felt stronger, his stares lingered longer and his voice was laced with more muted intensity when he sighed bastard, you’re my only friend - nothing’s changed.

It wasn’t long before the scouts came back for me, telling me I was guaranteed a spot in a high school in Seoul. They asked where the cuts and bruises on my face came from, and before I could say anything,  coach appeared beside me, quickly dismissing the injuries as accidents that happened during training. He turns to me with a strained smile, and told me the scouts did not condone fighting.

I figured the rest out myself and that night, I decided to confront Namsoon.

I’m done with fighting, I told him.

Is this about Seoul, he asked, shoulders trembling.

I nodded wearily as he turns with a scoff.

You can’t just leave, he spat, you have to get jumped out.

I agreed to it. I had to get out.

So they beat me up. I sat through it, bracing the pain and avoiding all sorts of eye contact. When I finally thought it was over, Namsoon stepped on my knee, hard and all I could hear was a sickening crack and then agonizing pain. I looked at Namsoon as he staggered backwards, fully aware of what he’s done. My eyes met his.

Pain, disbelief, betrayal, anger and regret.

He ran off, and I was left in the dark alley all alone and-

And there was when my dream ended. And a nightmare began.

Even a long time passes, I want to dream forever with you.

+++

The hospital was cold and maddeningly empty. Just like my heart,

Initially, I was angry. Angry at Namsoon, angry at everyone because I lost the one thing I was good at. And Namsoon was the reason behind it. I loathed Namsoon and myself.

The physical pain didn’t last but the most excruciating bits stuck in the back of my mind and the bottom of my heart.  

But as the days passed, the anger faded. With my dream permanently crushed, all I craved was the other most important thing in my life. I still hated him, for destroying my future, but for the most part, I hated him for disappearing, for not coming to visit, and for running away.

I missed that bastard.

He came by one day as I was wallowing in self-pity. I saw him from the windows of my ward, looking up. I’ve never seen him looking that scared before and he was frozen in his tracks as he stared at me. Then, he gulped nervously, and left.

That was the last time I saw him in a long, long time.

On a very sunny day, for just one day

Let’s be someone else.

+++

I went back to school but I was not the same Park Heungsoo anymore. I searched frantically for Namsoon, but turns out, he dropped out of school and moved away. I loitered around places we used to hang out and waited, but all I got in return was emptiness.

Sometimes, I rehearsed our meeting in my head. I'll beat him up and then give him a crushing hug, and then we'll eat junk food and read comics together like we used to.

But he never came back for me.

Mind you, I still hated him. But more than the hate was longing and I was sure I could forgive him if he made the decision to apologise to me. But he left without giving me a chance to forgive him. He left and took with him all hopes of us reconciling.

I ended up mixing with the wrong crowd and got myself into more trouble than I’ve ever gotten into. Noona cried as she begged me to stop, asking why I’d do such things to myself, but she’ll never know.

All I wanted to do was to find someone like Namsoon. Someone I could grow attached to. Someone to fill the void in my heart and to take the place Namsoon used to hold.

Turns out, I couldn’t find anyone like him. No one would cheer for me like he did, or or know how much seasoning I liked in my ramyun and know that all I actually needed was a shoulder to lean on at the end of the day.

But time only moves forward and one day, we’ll all grow up.

Have you ever read the story about the little prince, the prince who watches the sunset forty-four times a day, the prince who looked after his only rose.

One day, the prince lost his rose. So he bent down, and cried.

+++

Years later, when the comics grow yellow and uniforms no longer fit, I saw Namsoon again. This time, he was high up on billboards. I went online and read about him. He became a model. He’s put the past behind him and moved on.  

Bastard, you turned out well.

When I reminisced the days we had together, I can no longer picture some of those scenes in my mind. How his eyes flutter open in the mornings when we woke up late for school, how scared he would be but not let it show when your father comes home drunk. I can’t remember the Go Namsoon in 2008, whose voice gets drowned out in the crowd but still cheers for me at the top of his lungs at matches.

I want to go back in time. To relive the moments we shared. How it felt when piping hot ramyun scalded my tongue when he fed me. Find out if he was really asleep every time I pulled on the blanket for him. How the mist felt against our skin when we laid on the school roof. How it was like to feel carefree and comfortable beside him again.

If I could rewrite this story, it will turn out differently.

People come and go, and I learnt how to say goodbye.

But Go Namsoon, never truly left.

+++

You have to take a close look

to see that it’s pretty,

You have to take a long look

to see that it is lovely.

You are the same.

"Flower" - Na Taejoo

A/n: not proofread so the grammar can and will go haywire my office is freezing cold i cant rly think beyond the cold i dont know how this happened im sorry im not over school 2013 or jongbin ok thats all pls comment lol bye

links