Starlight

Final (?)

We first met in December. I was 17 years old and he was 19 at the time. We met by luck while we were going to our designated apartments. I had just came back from the store buying milk since it was the only thing I could afford and buy for my parents at the time while he stood there with a duffel bag in his left hand and another bag over his shoulder. He looked like he was struggling a bit since his chocolate brown hair was slightly messy and his white shirt and blue jeans were askew. I offered to help but he shook his head saying "no, no. It's alright. Thank you for your kindness though."

When the elevator doors creaked open to the fourth floor - the floor right under mine, I heard him mumble a small goodbye before heading out. It was perplexing - how could such a nice, clean, and handsome looking guy end up in this crappy apartment I called home? It was not that the place was moldy or abandoned - it was just old and broken down to the fact that it was amazing the landlord actually had the elevator still working. Not many people lived here either. In fact, I knew there were just about 5 other families living in this place - him being one of them now. And it was amazing how the landlord continued to keep the place open though it was practically pointless for her. Maybe she did not care? Did she even collect rent from us anymore? Did anyone actually know this building still stood? The last I had actually heard of the landlord was when I overheard some rumor from the other neighbors saying she moved to some up-scale building in the city, leaving us all here in the suburbs where hardly anyone knew.

I did not always mind how quiet it was, however. It was peaceful but a bit lonely at times. There were no children or teens around to chat to; everyone was practically an adult, cooped up in their rooms most of the time, every now or then the smell of pot or heavy cigarette smoke seeping out of the thin, wooden doors in one of the other rooms, yelling from another, and silence from the rest. I never really spoke a word about the smells since it was on the lower floors but sometimes the smell would get into the vents and choke us all out. I would only escape by going to where I often hung out on the fire escape outside of my bedroom window.

There was one boy, however, that I talked to a few of years ago. He was a year younger than me and cute though he insisted on being called masculine which only made me laugh. I adored him and loved talking to him since he was the only person that I could converse with without being annoyed with either by the smell of drugs or stuck-up behavior given off by another. His name was Han Sanghyuk but often he would prefer being called Hyuk instead which I used. We had a good relationship going on for a while but one day he and his family just left without saying a word and I never knew what had happened to him.

And though for a while I was worried that it was my fault, blinded by loneliness and guilt, when reality crashed over me and realization hit me, I looked around and did not blame him for leaving. This place was hell. Why would anyone come here in the first place when it looked the way it did? The apartment building was a eyesore and in the end, I had only wished for Sanghyuk to be better off than I was.

Every now and then I do think of him and how much I miss him, wondering if he ever thought about me too, but then I think about our relationship; we were nothing romantic, I was never able to give him a gift, and all we did was share short, sweet kisses. Could I even call it a relationship? Love? When I think back now, a few years later, I had only wish I done more for him and maybe he would have let me know that he was leaving. But maybe he was not even aware he was leaving. Well, the only tangible gift I have from him to remember is a small digital camera that I use every now and then since I can not often buy batteries. It was the best gift I had ever received despite the amount of uses I have ever gotten out of it - which is very few - but it was better than anything else; Sanghyuk even wrote a little heart and his name on the bottom of it in silver ink so it could be seen against the black. I wish I could use the camera more and actually get use out of it - maybe if he were still here I would have taken pictures more often. It would have been nice to learn how to take better pictures; maybe I could get a good job off of it.

Well, where ever he was, I hope he is happy now.

But nowadays I sit on the fire escape alone, missing him look up to me from the room down below. It was true no one was suppose to be on those things but I did not care nor did I think the others minded either since we were so cut off from society where we were located. It was nice and calming up on the fire escape anyway - to be able to see the stars and moon; it was practically the only bright things in my life and they were my only friends after he left. I did not have very good social skills to begin with from living in the apartment for my entire life along with being taken out of school after elementary, but I knew that the stars would always be there to listen. I would be upset on those nights they were not out but I kept the thought in the back of my mind that they were always there - that my friends, though smoked over with the clouds above, will always be there for me without a doubt. There was even one particular star above I knew just by looking at it since it shined brighter than all of the rest. It was pretty, beautiful, magnificent. I loved the way it stood out from the others making it so unique. I nicknamed it "N" for whatever reason I just felt like it was right.

But the cool, sharp, winter air kept me from sitting out in those cold months and my most hated seasons. I did not like being cooped up inside, smothered with the terrible air drifting through the apartment building that became worse when those neighbors smoked even more, leaving me to crack open my window, allowing the little heat that was given to me from the old, noisy radiator, to escape to the outside world. My parents rarely said anything about it, however. I complained to them only about the pot smell but it seemed like my words went to deaf ears. But it's not like they would actually care anyway; they were out most of the time doing whatever and in fact, I don't even believe they noticed the empty cigarette boxes in the trash that I threw away after I finished them off. It was a bad habit that I had learned, yes, but it was not like anyone cared around here - that a minor was smoking cigarettes off of the money he was getting from his parents whom still gave him an allowance at 17 years old. And it was not like I did it often anyway; I smoked a cigarette on rare occasions.

I blame it on those people from the second hand smoke to be honest.

I stepped out of the elevator as soon as it stopped on my floor and headed towards the old apartment, taking out the key from my jean pocket, unlocking it, and stepping into its cold, empty, interior.

After, as the weeks past by quietly and slowly, I saw the other brown-haired male a few other times in the hallways or elevator. Our words spoken were fairly short and sweet - I could never really keep up a conversation - I never even asked him his name at the time. There were very few things I knew about him then - the fact that he lived with his mom I thought - the only other person I have ever seen him with - and the sad expression always written on his face. Although I always had the urge to ask why he looked sad, I never did.

By the time it reached spring to summer, however, I begun sitting out on the fire escape, listening to the distance sounds of the city from afar, looking over to the far right to see the tall, large, buildings with the lights of the streets shining below, the sounds of car horns and people driving.

It was breaking into the night, the sunset settling down in the distance when I went out one evening, squeaks of the metal being heard as I stepped out of my bedroom window and onto the metal platform of the fire escape. Turning, I settled down, slipping my legs through the metal bar hand railing, propping myself up on my arms as I looked up to the sky, watching the hues of warm colors decorate the cool light blue.

I heard a window creak open, getting my attention. I looked down through the small metal holes, seeing a familiar face peek out of the window below, looking up at me. "Uh... hi," I greeted with raised eyebrows, surprised to see the male. His eyes darted to anywhere but my face as he mutter a small, "oh, hi" that was almost barely audible out in the open. I shifted slightly, nervous as to what to say. "Um... do you... uh..." I did not know how to place my words without sounding weird or awkward. Organizing the words in my head, I patted the spot next to me with my palm and smiled a little, "want to come up here and sit with me? We can watch the sunset."

At first his hesitance was obvious but I beckoned him up, getting him to give in. He stepped out of the window and onto the fire exit platform below me, walking around and up the metal stairs carefully, the metal shaking ever so slightly beneath his bare feet. I grinned further, "don't worry. It won't break. It's pretty sturdy."

He gave me a slight nod and continued up, stopping beside me, looking down at me. "You can sit down," I offer, gesturing again to the spot next to me. He nodded once more, crisscrossing his legs as he took the seat.

It was quiet. I was not sure how to start anything with someone whom I hardly ever talked to. "What's... your name?" I inquired after a moment to start, looking to him as he kept his eyes on the shades of pink and orange in the sky. It was the best I could think of to introduce us to each other.

He turned his gaze down to the cement five floors below. "Cha Hakyeon," he said quietly, taking a short glance at me.

"Oh, hi there," I greeted as if we never spoken before, "and I'm Lee Hongbin... how old are you?"

"19." He replied, his quiet tone non-wavering.

I slowly nod, "oh, interesting. I'm 17."

It went quiet for another moment and I worried if I was bothering him or not since he did not really reply enthusiastically. I cleared my throat. "I didn't know you lived under my apartment. You can always come up here if you feel lonely or whatever. I'll most likely be in there," I pointed with my thumb back to my room where the window was still open. His eyes followed, looking over his shoulder before he nodded again.

I sighed, leaning back on my hands. "I come out here since it's serene, 'ya know?" Hakyeon nodded again. I pressed my lips into a straight line, turning my gaze back to the sky. "I don't bite you know. You can always talk to me." I nudged him with my elbow only to get another nod. I sighed once again in despair only beginning to believe that maybe he just did not want to talk to me in the first place.

After that evening passed I would go out every night I could, waiting and hoping he would come out to sit with me. For the following couple of weeks he never did come out until one evening, when I was hopeless on seeing him and had just settled with sitting on the fire escape by myself like the months and years before, I heard the window below open, startling me. I glanced down, seeing him quickly head up the stairs and sit down next to me. Tear stains were visible on his cheeks. I only blinked and did not dare to say anything at first, cautious on my actions. As soon as I opened my mouth after thinking over what to say carefully, he leaned forward, resting his head against the metal bars and began crying quietly, his shoulders shaking as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, soft, shuddered "sorry's" escaping his lips. My eyebrows rose, thoughts crossing my mind, confused and concerned. What was I suppose to say now? What do I do?  I still barely knew him so my boundaries were limited. I leaned forward, wrapping my arm hesitantly around him, pulling him towards me as he hid his face in my chest, tears dampening my t-shirt. Slowly, I petted his hair, holding him tighter. Why was I doing it? I did not know. It had just felt like I had to. He seemed like the most fragile person; like the slightest breeze could knock him down to the ground, shattering him to a million pieces where, even if you tried to put him back together, there would always be things missing.

The stars shined that evening and I had only wished on my favorite one that everything would be alright for him.

Every night after that he would come to me, sitting in the same spot. We did not speak a word about it, only making small comments on the color of the sky or the stars that came out afterwards. And one night, when the sky was completely clear, we gazed up, pointing out some of the pretty "constellations", as he told me they were called, and individual stars. I pointed to my favorite, explaining its name and why it was my favorite. "I'd look up when I am upset at night just to see it. I just feel... I don't know..." I shrugged, "happier and safe? It tries to shine so brightly like it is hiding something just to make it seem great but, in the end... the star will disappear like the others..." And out of the corner of my eye, I saw him slowly nodding his head, agreeing with me but saying nothing.

What could I compare him to? The moon? He was so strong and I could tell. Just like the moon that I look up to, he had that same bright light that shone brighter on certain nights and dimmer on others. But even so, there was also the other side that I had never seen before - the side that was dark and cold - something he dared not show me. I could never prod to ask and just left him be while I enjoyed what I could get and wait for him to show me himself... but if only I knew then.

He laid his head on my shoulder another night, when the temperature was just right and the city sounds were soothing as we watched the sky and the few airplanes that might have been making their last trips for the day, the distant flashing red and yellow lights from the plane blinking as it headed over us. I looked to him and the peaceful face he had, bringing a small grin to my own as I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer to me, which he allowed, curling himself up against my body, bringing his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. We stayed there for what felt like a minute and just not long enough before I unconsciously rested my head on top of his and fell asleep, awaking to empty arms and a thin blanket on top of me the next morning while the cool morning air surrounded me.

At first I was worried that something might have happened to him or that my actions were wrong. I sat up after probably unconsciously laying down the night before and looked around, still in a daze but with concerned thoughts running through my mind. I got up, folding the blanket, and headed down the metal stairs, slowing to a sto