Sungjong’s heart drummed with trepidation, as he entered the park. His toes curled with anxiety inside his brand new sneakers. The pair was a gift from Myungsoo – he’d not worn it before. Today, he had no idea what he was doing.

He had tried to serve Myungsoo a raw egg for breakfast and had tea with salt himself. He wasn’t even aware that he had mistaken salt for sugar until Myungsoo had taken a sip from his cup and had told him.

Myungsoo was being tolerant, but he didn’t understand. He was sure the letters were some sort of a freakish incident and he was adamant about them not having any connection with Sungyeol. When Sungjong had told him about the call, he had become even certain that it was all some sort of an elaborate prank set up by someone who obviously wanted to break them up.

Seriously, who would want to do that?

That was why Sungjong hadn’t told him about the second call. Myungsoo would definitely not believe him; he might even try to take him to a psychiatrist or something. He wouldn’t realise why Sungjong knew that it was Sungyeol – even though Myungsoo and Sungyeol had been friends, Sungjong knew him more, and this feeling he was having, it could only be him.

When he found the bench he was looking for, at a desolate corner of the park, he dusted the seat with his hand and sat down. Clearing his throat nervously, he checked his watch – it was 6.56 pm. He was waiting for the clock to strike 7.00 – he had a feeling something would happen today, here at that exact time. It was too much to question how he knew it, but he just did.

It was late autumn, and the park was almost deserted. The wind blowing through the trees was quite cold, teasing Sungjong’s thin shirt. He hadn’t thought about how cold it would be at this time in the park; he had just walked out of his house, as if hypnotised.

The sound of the wind sounded extra loud and formidable in Sungjong’s ears. The sun had set already and the sky was dark. He could see a slit of the moon in the sky, far away from him. As for the stars, they were sparsely littered across the sky, but none too close to him. It was as if everyone and everything was avoiding him today. An involuntary shiver ran through his body.

Biting his lips, he checked the time on his glow-in-the-dark watch again.

It was 7.00 pm precisely.

The next moment, someone had sat down beside him.

He gasped out aloud. It was a tall man, dressed in jeans and a hoodie. The hood was pulled up so that it covered his eyes and threw the rest of his face in shadow. It was difficult to recognise his face, but Sungjong knew immediately.

But why hadn’t he heard him coming? The wind shook the boughs of the tree they were seated under. Maybe the whine of the wind had masked his footsteps.

Sungjong realised he was still staring at the newcomer, as if in a trance. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, feeling, but at the same time, he could. He felt that it was meant to be.

He gulped down the saliva that had gathered at the back of his throat and said, in a whispery voice, “S-Sungyeol?”

The shadow beside him nodded slightly.

Sungjong wanted to touch him, hold him in a hug. But he was too afraid. The wind had picked up speed and he was shivering now.

Sungyeol was sitting beside him.

The Sungyeol who had been in a coma for weeks, who had died eight days ago.

This didn’t make any sense. And yet, it did.

“Were you waiting for long?”

He felt an ice pick to his heart. His voice was warm and soft and he had an urge to hold his hand. He stopped himself at the last minute.

Instead, he whispered, “No.”

There was more he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t form the words. It seemed his mind was in a jam, his heart was beating faster than ever. He was afraid – not scared of Sungyeol, no. He wasn’t actually that surprised to be sitting here beside someone who had already passed away. It was rather the anxiety of what Sungyeol was going to say that haunted him.

He knew Sungyeol had something to say to him, something he didn’t want to hear and simultaneously, couldn’t help hearing.

For a moment, he wondered if he was indeed crazy.

“Are you scared, Sungjongie?”

He shook his head. But there was no point lying to Sungyeol, he definitely knew.

“It’s okay, my love, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

Sungyeol’s voice was calm and reassuring but it sent goosebumps up Sungjong’s arms. He felt a jolt of electricity run down from his spine to his left leg. Tears accumulated in his eyes, cramming for space as they threatened to fall.

“Don’t cry dear, I have something to tell you.”

There was tightening sensation in his stomach. Sungyeol’s voice reverberated off his skull, and he felt a dull ache take over.

He wanted to shout so that he didn’t have to listen to what he had to say, but his vocal cords were not functioning. It was painful to even move his lips.

“Sungjong, dearest, I’m sorry that I have to be the one to tell you all this, but you should know. Now I know the reason why you did what you did, why I wasn’t enough…”

Sungjong’s fists curled up. He was gritting his teeth as Sungyeol continued, ever so calmly, his voice steady but emotional.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry but you are cursed.”

Sungjong’s heart stopped for a moment as all the sound disappeared and he was drowned in silence. For a moment, the stars vanished from in front of his eyes and he was engulfed in darkness. He couldn’t feel Sungyeol’s presence beside him anymore, but there was the faint consciousness of an apparition around him; his voice reached him from a faraway place, maybe the end of a tunnel or a black hole.

“You are cursed, my sweet, you can’t love. You don’t have the ability to love anyone, not even yourself. That is why you need all the people to love you, because you cannot love yourself, or anyone around you. We all live to love someone, but you – you can’t.”

It seemed like Sungyeol was on the verge of tears now, but Sungjong couldn’t think about that. His head dropped as pressed the palm of his hands to his ears, trying to; blot out the sounds of Sungyeol’s voice.  

The thumping of his wild heart was the only thing that rang in his ears as he felt madness overcome his consciousness. They were lies – Sungyeol was lying. What did he know?

He knows.

No!

But he does.

Sungjong feels every bit of his body, every cell being destroyed one at a time. It was feral kind of pain, that drove him crazy.

He was afraid of this, wasn’t he? He was afraid of Sungyeol saying something that would devastate him. Did that mean he had an inkling of it, of what was wrong with him, deep down inside?

Maybe he had.

Maybe he had known all along.

He couldn’t love, no matter how hard he tried, how much he wanted to – he just couldn’t.

He was cursed.

It wasn’t something that would sink in quick.

He felt he was stuck in a timeless vortex, a cocoon he didn’t want to come out of.

“Sungjongie, darling, let me help you.”

Very slowly, he could feel the normal sensations coming back to him. Raising his head, he was surprised to find that Sungyeol had his arm around his shoulder. He couldn’t feel a thing.

“I – I can’t feel you,” he said in a small voice.

“No, but I can. Because you didn’t love me Sungjong, but I did. I do.”

“I loved you Sungyeol,” he uttered desperately. Hadn’t there been a time when he had been fascinated by Sungyeol? He couldn’t spend a single moment without thinking about him. Hadn’t they reclined, side by side, their fingers entwined, and murmured vows of love to each other?

“You didn’t, sweetheart, they were lies, your promises. You said what you didn’t feel.”

Sungjong’s heart tore into pieces as he heard Sungyeol deny everything he believed. He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore – they started to flow, the dam finally broken.

“Why me?” he asked finally. “Why did this happen to me?”

He turned to the shadowy figure beside him. He wanted to see Sungyeol’s face again, he wanted to rest his head on his chest and forget the world, like he used to.

Sungyeol slowly turned toward him but his face was still half-hidden. He raised a hand to Sungjong’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over his skin but he couldn’t feel the touch. Timidly, he extended his hand toward Sungyeol, who shook his head.

“You can’t Sungjong, you can’t.”

“Why only me, Sungyeol?”

“Not only you, Sungjong, I’m cursed too.” Sungyeol sighed, his lips quivering slightly. “Yes, I’m cursed too – cursed to eternally love someone who can’t love. I had been cursed to a life of unreciprocated love, and even in death, I’ve come back for you, for this one love.”

Sungjong didn’t have an answer. He could apologise, but what good would that do. If it weren’t for him, Sungyeol could have loved someone who would love him back just as much. He could have been happy in life, and when he died, he could have been remembered in a loving memory.

“I’m sorry,” he said, despite deciding not to apologise before. He couldn’t stop himself.

“No love, don’t apologise. It’s alright that I got to love you. I will do everything for you, I will fight for you, against the world, against death. I will watch over you, my dear, don’t worry. Because I love you.”

“Then,” Sungjong said. “I want to hold you, one last time.”

“Maybe some other day, you have to go now. Myungsoo will be worried.”

There was finality in his tone and he knew he had to leave, just the way he knew he had to come to the park. He wanted to ask Sungyeol if this was goodbye, if he’d see him again, but he didn’t. he’d probably know, as always. There was a time for everything, and it was time to leave.

Waving goodbye to Sungyeol, he stood up and started walking. His steps were slow, but he made it out of the park, into a world of seven billion people, none of whom he could ever truly love.