-Forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit-

Sunlight woke Kim Jongin up from his little slumber. It has been almost an hour since he sat on the cushioned passenger seat of his brother’s black sedan that would take the both of them to some place called Ilsan. It has also just been less than a day since he returned from the mesmerizing country of Venice. But since he’s only in for a vacation, and even though he’s tired and it is more than justifiable of him to sleep, he fights to keep himself awake. Time has always been his worst enemy since. Now, he couldn’t afford to waste any of it, even if it stopped for him almost half a decade ago. Not when he’s coming to Ilsan. Not when he’s coming home. Not when he’s coming to see her.

Jongin pressed the button that would automatically open the passenger window, fresh country-side air greeted his cheeks while he let the slight feeling of inevitable melancholy embrace his soul. The sky above was extensive and clear, looking almost like a dome. A small grin unconsciously tugged his lips. Something people never knew could exist in his face, because when did he even learn how to smile?

Everything looked like how it was before, yet it is in fact the best thing he liked about the suburbs. It is physically passive, undeveloped. For him, that’s what makes this place special, because discreetly, a lot of things happened here. Memories he wished to forget and still remember. Things he loves and hates. And a person he truly loved, but lost. Perhaps, someday it will be enjoyable to remember even this.

“What was the reason for this impulsive Ilsan visit again?” was the cue for Jongin to move his head to the left. His brother, Suho, has surprisingly asked him something other than directions because even if he wanted to forget some things about the past, he chose not to forget this one. Or perhaps because he couldn’t, because maybe things like directions to ‘home’ has been engraved in his heart. The question of his brother though wasn’t unexpected because if he was in his brother’s shoes, Jongin would question the same. He just arrived from Venice, tired and jetlagged. Nevertheless, he requested his brother to drive straight to Ilsan without even stepping foot in Seoul. The reason? Because it’s the 12^th of September, and although he’s four years late, he has come to fulfill a promise.

For a moment, he wasn’t aware that he was zoning out. The dimness of the tunnel they were currently driving in caught him off guard. How can every little thing remind him of her? It was suffocating, the dimness. He wanted to get out of the dark immediately and his prayer was answered just before he could even say his amen.

“Tulips.” He found his voice now, his eyes closed while the rays of the sun fight their way to enter his lids, and soon he let them win. When Jongin opened his eyes, the other person repeated his last word in a questioning tone, now probably more curious of what the younger has suddenly blurted out.

“I came to see the tulips.”

He didn’t know, but the first time he actually met her was on summer year 2008, when he was fourteen and she was twelve, and his father visited Ilsan for a two-week free medical treatment for cancer patients. Mr. Kim is one of the best surgeon’s in the metropolitan, part-time philanthropist, and part of his benevolent work is to annually hold a two-week free medical treatment for cancer patients living in the suburbs that could not afford the expense of going to the Capital and treat their sickness.

Fourteen year old Jongin was skillfully pressing on the buttons of his PSP—creased forehead, furrowed eyebrows, fully-concentrated on whatever’s flashing on the LCD screen; while the twelve year old sat—feet hanging on her seat—patiently waiting in line for her turn with her mother beside her, and silently watching the tanned-skin boy lose himself in his own little world.

The first time they actually held hands was still on the summer of 2008, last day of the uptown boy’s two-week stay. She brought with her a stalk of pink tulip with a white ribbon clumsily tied at the upper middle of the stem. It was her sign of gratitude toward the generous doctor, who was still busy attending to some last-minute walk-ins for consultations. She was waiting for almost two hours before a familiar teenage boy, whom she almost immediately recognized, sat two seats beside her, grabbed the same PSP from the first time she saw him, and once again lose himself in his game.

The twelve year old waited patiently for another hour or more, yet she didn’t find waiting troublesome when it meant waiting for the person, whom she believed has saved her mother’s life. Aside from that mentality, observing the boy seated two seats next to her was enough of an entertainment. She must not know what it was that time, but if teenagers’ would be feeling that way, it could be associated to having a crush.

The time when Dr. Kim was done, she immediately collected herself and approached him. “Thank you for saving my mom, doctor. Please accept this.” After traditionally bowing to the doctor, she handed her humble gift. Unfortunately though, Jongin’s dad was carrying three bags, so he called his son (thrice, and the third time was almost a shout just for the young one to realize) to receive the humble gift instead to which the teenage boy casually obliged. It was during that time, when her fingers and his fingers touched for a few milliseconds, but it felt surreal to her. It was definitely a crush.

Jongin never came back to Ilsan after, even if his dad continued his annual visits for two more years. The next time she heard of him was from another patient asking the doctor where could the tanned-skin boy be and his answer consisted of Jongin growing up, busy with school and… a girlfriend. And again Jongin was unaware, but that was in fact the first time he broke her heart.

On some part of the Manhattan district of Seoul, the nineteen year old Jongin woke up in an empty club, head throbbing from last night’s party. The taste of toxic lingers on his tongue while the smell of nicotine sticks on his hair. When he found enough strength to pull himself up, the scenes from yesterday stabbed him like the uninvited sudden pour of summer rain and he remembers…

Two years ago, he discovered by himself that he was an adopted child, which he kept from his parents’ knowing until now or until forever. Even if his mom and dad have given him enough attention as his older brother, things have never been the same. He got ashamed of how spoiled and pampered he has been, plus his second-degree relatives have always compared him to his older brother, who aces in academics, has a beautiful girlfriend and an exemplary character; while he, on the other hand, has been busy trying to cope up with his school but has never been on top of his class. Moreso, he isn't the chatty type. To say it conservatively, he's an introvert. People would get lucky if they ever witness him smile, so oftentimes they misjudge him as someone snob and rude. Amidst these comparisons, Suho has always loved and protected Jongin like his own little brother. And that makes everything harder than it should be. If Suho turned out to be a little indifferent of a brother to Jongin, he wouldn’t feel as pitiful for himself as he is now.

Not too long, he found out that Suho’s girlfriend got pregnant by another man. The once collected Kim Suho started ruining his own life. It was the first time Jongin ever saw how vulnerable and helpless his older brother, who he always thought was the strongest man he had ever known, could be. He used to be Jongin’s pillar that kept him in equilibrium, but it was the time when he realized he doesn’t have a choice anymore; he needed to stand on his own.

A year after that saddening discovery, Jongin witnessed his father intimately kissing one of his nurses in his office. His father half-, and the nurse—God forbid but he saw what must be kept hidden. The love and respect he has for his father that grew for eighteen years has crumbled in seconds. Rage took over his entirety, and swear if in that moment people looked him in the eyes, they would find out where his demons hide.

Months after he lost all connections from his father, his parents got divorced. Lies will be discovered sooner or later, but in Dr. Kim’s case, it was too soon than even Jongin has expected. The respected medical doctor didn’t lose his license, but he lost something more precious than all his wealth. And although he begged his wife for another chance, some people, people like Jongin’s mom thought he doesn’t deserve one. As for the nurse, she expelled herself out of their lives and settled in an unknown city abroad. Yet somehow, people could never really escape from their past, because they will haunt them at one point in time. Whether it may be certain people, place, or situation, some things will make her remember that she was the girl who destroyed a once happy family.

Twain once said, ‘when ill luck begins, it does not come in sprinkles, but in showers.’ Just when Jongin thought the worst has already come, he has never been so wrong. The same ing year, everything that he wished could stay in place started falling apart. Suho wasn’t getting any better. Instead, he was worse. He kicked himself out of the best medical university in South Korea in exchange for a scholarship in a place called Amy WInehouse School of Medicine, where every freaking drug is legal until you’re dead. Their mom wasn’t any help either, because if Suho ended up in a rehab, she needed to live in a refuge to fix her depression.

Sometimes, Jongin would question himself that maybe he was in fact the one with an actual problem. Perhaps, everything which he thinks is normal is just an illusion because from everything that’s been happening, he’s the odd one out. He could only hope that everything would just turn out to be a long nightmare, and soon he will wake up.

Yet life hasn’t done playing tricks on him. Maybe life missed out the fact that before anything else, Kim Jongin is a human. But again, reality is cruel for the nineteen year old man, who happened to be the sacrificed piece in the game called life. People surrounding him lost all hopes, but for the longest time, he kept himself intact.

It was the sad, funny part when Jongin realizes he was already standing on a concrete ground, in front of a red gate almost looking like it begs to get repainted. How his feet ended up taking him in front of his house, he doesn’t have a clue. Possibly because, even if his mind doesn’t have to function properly, places too familiar for Kim Jongin could be physically remembered by him. Exhausted, he didn’t even reach his bed as he chose to settle himself on the carpeted floor, a few feet away from their house’s main door.

The time when the world was starting to draw their blinds was the time for Jongin to actually rise. He was just a mess—in all its underlying meaning—and more than that, he’s way beyond depressed. Depression is even an understatement of what he’s feeling. Worse, he’s cold and numb. As soon as he planned to lie on the hard carpeted ground again, a loud ring was heard and it took him just about instantly to recognize it was coming from his phone.

The caller was from the only non-related person who knows Jongin's phone number (as Jongin doesn't consider anyone a friend), Chen, asking his whereabouts and informing him that their boss was infuriated to come to the café this morning only to find out that he wasn't around, again. Jongin’s dad initiates on sending him his monthly allowance, which amounts to almost five times his monthly salary, but Jongin refuses to even use a cent.

“ man! Aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? You need to get a grip of yourself if you don’t want to end up in the streets! What’s wrong with you?” a now furious tone from the other line somehow ‘caused Jongin to come back to his senses.

Jongin! Darn it! Are you still there???” It was the first time in forever when someone heard Jongin cry. He couldn’t take it, it’s like the world couldn’t get enough of his suffering. REJECTED that's how he remembers the letter which read "I'm sorry to inform you—" from SM Academy. He didn't need to read the rest to know how much of a failure he is.

“I quit.” Two words that might mean more than how people like Chen could understand, and the next thing Jongin heard was actually what he has expected, “Why?” Can people ever be so creative?

It was silent for a good amount of time. If people would only listen closely, they sure could hear Jongin’s heart break to thousands of pieces. But even before the mention of that three-letter word question, Jongin has already come up with an answer. Besides, it was the only remaining answer until it all ends, right?

I quit…

Why?...

Because…

“The last ing string broke.”