Chapter XV

“And, in the end
The love you take
is equal to the love you make.” 

Paul McCartney
 

There were only two ways to break into that department, one easy but overly noticeable taking into account it was merely eleven in the morning, and one which seemed dangerous but was less obvious and inconspicuous. Seunghyun chose the second one for clear reasons; what he wanted the less was being caught at the middle of the day. The department was located in one redbrick building in the district of Daldongnae, in the third floor. Even though there was a principal entry to the building, there were secondary accesses to the departments by an emergency metal stair case hanging from one side of the construction. However, the structure started at the second floor, which meant there was approximately three meters of distance between the floor and the first step. There was no possible way to access to it without some help and Seunghyun looked around trying to figure out what to do.

Youngbae stayed in his car, two blocks away from the building, squeezing the cell phone in one of his hands expecting an emergency call from Seunghyun at any moment. The place was quiet, but not because of peacefulness but because of abandonment. Dust and emptiness swirled over the floor and the edges of the streets, and the few people walking on the sidewalks seemed to have a silent agreement of looking at their own shoes and ignoring the rest of the things happening around them. Youngbae was not sure about what to expect from all of this. Evidence? What kind of evidence where they searching for? And when those doubts afflicted him, he felt guilty for accepting the man, now outside and in danger, to drag him into all of this. But Seunghyun had a kind of aura, a personality of hanging onto his own thoughts and beliefs, where if he expected to find something he would find it. It was obstinacy, Youngbae thought, what was one of the most impressive features Seunghyun had. An unconventional obstinacy guided by general principles of what was right or what should be done, in spite of his own well-being. And the determination of the man had achieved to assure him even about uncertain things.

Seunghyun pushed one of the big trash cans against the back wall of the small corridor next to the building, and placed it beneath the stairs before stepping over it to reduce the distance between him and the stairs. The man then stretched his right arm trying to take hold of one of the metal bars of the banister. After what, he made use of all the strength in his arms, flexed them and pulled his body up until he could place his left foot over one of the metal bars. The conscience of his own corporal weight had never been as painful for Seunghyun, and he had to pause for a moment once in the stairs to catch his breath and recover the sore muscles of his arms. He went upstairs as quietly as possible until reaching the third floor then by using his past knowledge as a young tramp, he opened the door which was actually not so difficult to open, and stepped inside the small 301 department.

The entire place was not bigger than one of the rooms in Jiyong’s house. There were large cardboard boxes scattered over the floor, some blankets arranged at one of the corners as an improvised bed and a minuscule room that served as a bathroom. The place screamed poorness and poverty from every single wall and Seunghyun furrowed his eyebrows, confused as of why that man would live in such deplorable conditions when receiving generous amounts of money. He started registering the first cardboard boxes, keeping all his senses alert of any sound that signaled the arrival of the owner of that place.

Many of the cardboard boxes contained photos, wrinkled clothes, some unimportant papers, toys and other utensils; nothing unexpected from a solitary and divorced man. It was not until ten minutes later and twelve cardboard boxes registered when he found one whose appearance was indeed suspicious. It was sealed with a worn down piece of tape as if it had been multiple times opened and sealed again and was hidden beneath larger boxes. Inside, Seunghyun found the same letter envelopes the ex-wife of the man had told them about, with the “SH” initials written as only reference of the sender. There were around twenty envelopes joined together by a garter, dated from the five of June of that year to the last weekend. And the interesting part was that the majority of them remained unopened.

Seunghyun scrutinized them in silence, playing with them between his hands and weighting them. The fact that they remained unopened and the condition of the place gave him some clues about what could be happening there: guilt and regret or one of both could be the reason, and that fact was enough to lessen his own worries. A regretful man was always easier to convince for it was an undecided soul wandering between two paths; and Seunghyun would make sure he pushed this man into choosing the appropriate one. He took some photos of the place and the envelopes with his cell phone and kept three of them with himself, three of the ones in the middle of the bunch of envelopes, which were less probably to be found absent by the man. He arranged everything the same as how he had found it and left the department, closing the door behind him. The street and the little alley remained empty, so he stepped down the stair again the silently as possible; though soon he found himself cursing aloud when he noticed that someone had pushed back the trash can to the back of the alley during the time he had been inside the apartment, and now he was faced with a three meters free fall to the floor.

Seunghyun hissed bad words while calculating the distance and the probable damage to his own body. He could call Youngbae but doing so would draw attention or worst, someone could recognize or see Youngbae and that would mean involving Jiyong’s name in all this. He sighed and after swallowing hard, jumped to the floor. The way in which he fell against the ground wasn’t elegant at all, dusty knees, scratched hands and an aching ankle, but there were no broken bones and no one seemed to have noticed his little misfortune. So he pulled himself up and limped as casually as possible to the car two blocks away from there, restraining his gestures from showing the excruciating pain in his right ankle whenever he supported his weight over it.

“What the hell happened? Did someone find you?” asked a restless Youngabe when he saw him enter inside the car, in pain, sweating profusely and with uneven breathing.

Seunghyun shook his head and closed his eyes. “I think I sprained my ankle when jumping down the stairs,” he explained and cursed grabbing his right foot.

Youngbae studied him with eyes that showed he had no idea as of what to do, “Want me to take you to the hospital?” he finally asked already starting the engines of the car. However, Seunghyun again shook his head and moved his hand to stop Youngbae from doing another movement. He took a deep breath and turned to face him.

“I got the envelopes,” he grinned and took out from his jacket the three envelopes and gave them to Youngbae, who opened his eyes and looked at them with apprehension. When he noticed they remained sealed he lifted his eyes and gazed to Seunghyun as if searching for explanations.

“He hasn’t used the money. The place he lives in is a dirty pigsty.  How can you explain that?” murmured Seunghyun.

“He doesn’t want to use it?” guessed Youngbae. “He doesn’t want to use the money,” he repeated again but this time with more strength as if he was convinced of his own thoughts, eyes beaming with answers.

Seunghyun nodded slowly and then grabbed one of the envelopes between Youngbae’s hands and tore it open. At his side Youngbae’s eyes followed his movements with interest. Inside they found a bank check of 800 thousand dollars, with Choi Co. as the drawer and  “pension payment” as issue.

“Is this man registered in the pension system?” asked Seunghyun pointing at the name written over the check.

Youngbae was looking sternly at the piece of paper and after a moment he answered, “Even if he is, he is receiving four times what a normal retired person receives at an unusual retirement age,” and looked at Seunghyun suspiciously.

Seunghyun let out an amused laugh and nodded with his head, closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the car seat.

“Do you think you can investigate where this money comes from? Now we now he is receiving money from Choi. Co  and we can almost assure Soo Hyuk is involved with this. Who else could take such large amount of money every week without anyone noticing?”

Youngbae nodded and sighed frustrated. “You think Soo Hyuk hired this man to kill Seunghyun?” he questioned with a voice that evidenced he was fearful about the answer. But Seunghyun stayed in silence.

“I don’t know,” he confessed after a while. “Seunghyun had some secrets, too. I don’t know. In fact, I need to tell you something but I need you to promise me that you will not speak about this with Jiyong,” he said and focused his eyes on Youngbae’s ones.

When the other man accepted warily, Seunghyun told him all about his recent findings about the relationship of the Choi’s with the Hyang’s and his own fear to accept Choi Seunghyun could have been someone completely different of how he had appeared to be. Youngbae listened to him and at the end lowered his eyes and ran a hand over his face, overwhelmed.

“This is just too much,” he cried and started the engine of the car. “This is going to be too much for Jiyong to accept.”

They both drove through the streets thinking about the same thing, about how life seemed to be composed of perfectly intricate lies.

The first thing Seunghyun did when entering into the house was to let his body fall over the sofa, lift his right leg and place it over the comfort of the softness of the sofa. His ankle was a bit swollen and at one side a nasty blue color had appeared over his skin, but its condition was not as terrible as the pain and he could still move it, which was relieving. Youngbae helped bringing him the first-aid kit that was in the first floor bathroom; but unfortunately the small suitcase had only pills for diarrhea, flu and headache and some old band-aids.

“This man,” growled Seunghyun, pushing the useless suitcase to one side and leaned his head onto the back of the sofa. Youngbae looked at him concerned and offered to go buy some painkillers for him.

“In my bedroom, first door to the left of Jiyong’s one is another bathroom. I have a small suitcase like this over one of the shelves. Can you bring it for me?” Seunghyun asked to Youngbae and the other man gave no answers but rushed to the second floor. Seconds later Youngbae had already brought him the suitcase, a glass of water, the remote control of the TV and his phone charger, everything done with an anxious face.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I feel bad for leaving you in this state. Will you be okay?” asked Youngbae looking at Seunghyun’s ankle.

“For wanting to kill me one week ago you are too worried about me now,” joked Seunghyun and brought two pills to his mouth and swallowed them with help of the glass of water. “I’ll be fine,” he declared.

Youngbae smiled in relief and closed the door behind him leaving an aching Seunghyun behind, with no other thing to do but be bored with TV programs.

The door of the house opened again about seven in the evening and what received Jiyong was Run Run Run by Phoenix sounding loudly through the speakers in the living room, a Seunghyun lying comfortably over the sofa, legs extended and hands moving at the rhythm of the song with eyes closed. Some disc boxes scattered over the living room’s table and first-aid suitcases thrown over the floor. A quite interesting picture he had to confess. He stood there during all the song at the entrance of the house, staring amusedly at the uninterested Seunghyun who was now singing out loud the lyrics of the song, twisting his gestures as if he was singing the song for a crowd of pumped up fanatics, and had been transported to another world or universe. When the song ended Jiyong used the silent time to cough awkwardly, what made Seunghyun open his eyes violently and jump over the sofa surprised.

“Having fun?” Jiyong asked smirking and walked inside the living room. “What are you supposed to be doing?”

Seunghyun laughed awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders, “Enjoying your disc collection and wondering why on earth there are opera discs between punk and rock ones, and enjoying my time as a disabled person,” he answered with a goofy smile.

“Disabled?” Jiyong asked and then spotted the now violet ankle of Seunghyun over the sofa. “Again! Why are you always getting hurt?” exclaimed Jiyong opening his eyes and approached to inspect the damage. “Why haven’t you bandaged it?”

“Because someone’s aid-kit is the most deplorable one I’ve seen in my whole existence,” complained Seunghyun and whined when Jiyong's fingers pressed over the skin of his ankle. Jiyong retrieved his hand and apologized.

“I have some bandages in my room. Actually the real aid-kit suitcase is in my bathroom,” he explained, scratching the back of his neck apologetic. “Wait a minute,” he said and walked to the second floor.

As he had promised, Jiyong returned with a bigger suitcase hanging from his shoulder. He threw it over the floor, lifted Seunghyun’s legs, sat over the couch and placed Seunghyun’s legs over his lap, all of that too casually.

“My mom was a nurse. She used to teach me how to do these things. I never thought it would be of some use until now,” he explained smiling. “Can I?” he inquired looking at Seunghyun’s ankle and then at his eyes.

The supplanter merely nodded with his head, in pain but fascinated too for the closeness and confidence Jiyong had now with him. As if something had been broken around Jiyong and between them, and now Seunghyun could see and even touch the soft parts of him, his tenderness and kindness. And that reality was fascinating.

Jiyong took carefully his ankle and one medium bandage from the suitcase and started rolling it around his foot, biting his lips, concentrated. Sometimes he lifted his eyes and looked at Seunghyun, asking if it hurt or if it was too tight and then continued with the task. When he finished he saved everything inside the suitcase but made no attempt to lift his body from the sofa but stayed there and placed a gentle hand over Seunghyun’s ankle and turned to face him.

“So tell me, how did you achieve to gain a purple ankle?”

Seunghyun smiled nervously. “Running. I stepped the wrong way,” he lied and the guilt of lying to someone already surrounded by too many lies stabbed him right into his chest. If there was something he did not want to do was keeping things from Jiyong, let alone now that Jiyong seemed to have start trusting in him. But Jiyong nodded without suspicion and shook his head.

“I think I have to prohibit you from going out to run before something worse happens,” he joked, caressing unconsciously with one of his fingers the bandages he had just placed around Seunghyun’s ankle.

If It’s Not With You started playing through the speakers and Jiyong smiled, amused by his own thoughts. “You know what is funny?” he asked to Seunghyun who only looked at him intrigued. “You seem to like the albums Seunghyun used to hate the most.”

“Seunghyun disliked Phoenix? How could he?” exclaimed offended Seunghyun and shook his head disapprovingly. “It seems he and me would have had a lot of differences.”

Jiyong nodded, smiling shyly and after some minutes commented, “But I like the fact you both are so distinct. You made it impossible for me to confuse you with him. Actually... you are the complete opposite of him! He would have already throw you out of the house,” Jiyong laughed.

“So bad?”

“You have no idea. He had this kink for refinement. Everything was weird and foreign artists and painters, classic music, “high-class” conversations, luxurious brands, elegant dinners. He was funny in his own way,” Jiyong recalled looking at Seunghyun with a beaming expression. “But he was nice… I mean, sometimes it was hard for him to be affectionate. But I knew he was not cold, only more shy than me, if that is even possible.”

Seunghyun listened to Jiyong and the doubts about the love of Choi Seunghyun for the man in front of his eyes started vanishing. Because who could not love Jiyong? How was it even possible to ignore the amazing mystery Jiyong was?

“…While you. Well you are you,” Jiyong ended laughing.

Seunghyun frowned and pouted his lips. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That you are you… I can’t even describe you,”

“I prefer to take that as a compliment. My ankle hurts too much to accept my ego to hurt too,” Seunghyun said.

“Do you have another name, Seunghyun?”

“No,” answered Seunghyun but thought about it for a moment and added, “One of my families used to call me Seungri,”

“Seungri? As in victory? How funny of them,” teased Jiyong.

“Shut up!” chuckled Seunghyun and moved his foot to hit Jiyong’s chest but regretted it the second later when his ankle complained with a painful cramp. Jiyong placed his hand over Seunghyun’ ankle, and stopped it from moving.

“Can I call you Seungri?” he asked suddenly, without averting his eyes from Seunghyun’s ankle.

“I guess so,” answered a puzzled Seunghyun.

Jiying nodded and pulled his body off the sofa, handling carefully Seunghyun’s right leg and then walked towards his discs shelve. “The strange opera discs are Seunghyun’s property by the way,” he explained while running a hand through the boxes until grabbing one and lifting it in the air. “Snow Patrol?”

“Oh, Yes!” Seunghyun agreed pleased.

“I thought so. This one Seunghyun hated to,” he said while placing it in the music player, after what he returned to the sofa and sat in the same position he had before, with Seunghyun’s legs over his lap.

“Sing,” Jiyong asked when You Are All I Have started playing.

Seunghyun smirked and nodded with his head when he saw Jiyong’s eyes. There was inspiration, as if he had found again pleasure in music. And Seunghyun sang and stared absorbed at how Jiyong closed his eyes and started moving his head with the rhythm of the bass and the guitar, sometimes joining him singing the lyrics.

“I’m going to return to KJ Entertainment,” Jiyong confessed when the song ended and smiled proudly, “I miss my music,”

Seunghyun merely returned his smile and murmured a strained, “That is the best news I’ve heard in ages."

Hi all of you! Thank you for still reading this story. From next chapter something will change and things will start to get down again, so don't get accostumed to happiness! BTW sorry for any grammar mistakes, I posted the un-betaed chapter, within this week my beta will correct any mistake.

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