He took into account every quirk and conduct in hastened successions as his eyes followed every arc of the eyebrow and every stretch of skin. From the amount of sugar put into their coffees to the shoes on their feet, Woohyun thought of every plausible circumstance for the patrons of the café he had so conveniently seated himself in.

A tinkle – the introduction of a new character – snapped him out of a web of lost friendships; second chances unusual and unaccustomed. He was an attractive young man with an inclination to dress in black from head to toe – an awfully safe choice. But as he took his seat the table beside Woohyun’s, it became plain to see that his demeanour and colour of choice was as mismatching as the folds in his eyes. Woohyun cocked his head, lips twitching in amusement.

This man seemed to defy the concept of relation.

When the barista came to his side, he flashed an easy smile, head dipping in acknowledgment. Woohyun easily learned that Myungsoo was his name, a further indication of frequent visits and informalities.

Eavesdropping was not necessarily wicked. It was merely an alternative to extracting information – an unimportant act for an absolute cause. Every character needed its own backstory, its own roots to fall back on. But in order for him to put Myungsoo in dimensions of overlapping universes, he required the character to divulge himself.

Shoulder tilted, he leaned towards the table beside his. Myungsoo might have been a man of few words, or seemingly none at all. The barista seemed completely at ease at this revelation; face bright with her child-like fascination. It was only after he had shooed her away did Woohyun finally manoeuvre his chair until he was looking right into the perplexed face of this story’s main character.

‘Hi, I’m Woohyun,’ he began casually, ‘and you must be Myungsoo.’

–

It was on a warm evening when Woohyun found himself on the platform with a duffel bag in one hand and aspirations in the form of a pen in the other. He stepped onto the train that arrived next, slumped into an empty seat and fell into slumber. Several stops later, he promptly alighted.

Destinations held little importance to him. Ultimately, all would reach an invariable end. That was the only thing that mattered to him.

–

The town he found himself in was bland, its structure of greys and browns dismal against its backdrop of endless hills. Many had seemingly retreated early to the warmth of their havens as he made his way, sneakers loud against the asphalt, bag heavy on his shoulders. There was a sort of bareness that was hard to miss in this town as his gaze flicked over the twining ivy and unkempt tiles. A town with a tired soul: a perfect setting for its unsuspecting dwellers.

Lips curling into a small smile, he his hands deep into his pockets and frisked.

–

Wandering around aimlessly had brought him to the edge of the town, soil warm and grass uncut. With his satchel holding support to his head, he watched clumps of clouds drift. Keeping with his consciousness soon became a forgotten task.

Myungsoo greeted him behind closed eyelids, pretty face just as he had remembered it to be. But it distorted into an ugly form of hollow eyes that cried and mouth stretched as he threw himself into the space behind. Woohyun struggled against locked limbs and a silenced voice but he could only play as an audience to Myungsoo’s vain wrestle as he reached for a limp angular outline. The gears were working in his head and he knew and

Myungsoo –

It flashed white and he jolted awake to a downpour.

He made no effort to escape the shower, a premature headache well on its way. He rolled over; breathing heavy as he quickly reassembled his thoughts.

Characters leave. Another replaces the demised. Fiction was nothing but written lines of life and death and everything else that was not. Nam Woohyun was anything but fiction. And yet he was every bit of it, even if death was imprinted behind closed lids and happiness was nothing but temporary.

–

Satchel close to his heart, he pressed himself up against the brick wall of a closed café, toes uncurling in sodden socks. The winds were in his ears as he pushed wet hair out of his face before retrieving a white length and a small metal container from the depths of his bag. Hand cupped close to his mouth, he in till its end lighted – an aid to white knuckles and shaking bones.

When Woohyun first met Sunggyu, it was as though he had brought the rain with him. Squishing shoes coupled with hair plastered to the skull – he was a sight.

‘Want a light?’ he asked with his lighter extended. ‘You look like you need one.’

A frown graced his features as he regarded Woohyun before curtly answering, ‘I don’t smoke.’

He returned his attention to pruned skin and the biting cold. His lisp seemed more pronounced with chattering teeth. Woohyun’s eye twitched.

‘Suit yourself,’ Woohyun shrugged, bringing his arm to his side, fingers diligently flipping the metal cap open and close.

They spend the next few moments in measured disquiet until Woohyun rolled over to his right, assertive clank following in his wake.

‘You look cold,’ he said as a matter-of-fact, eyeing the noticeable outline of skin.

When he gave no heed, Woohyun pressed on, asking, ‘What’s your name?’

‘D-do you strike up conversations with every stranger you meet?’

‘Acquaintances would be more fitting and as a matter of fact, I do actually so tell me – what’s your name?’

‘I’m sure since you seem to know everything that you’d know my name too,’ he said through clenched teeth, fingers curling deeper into wet linen.

‘Touché – unless you expect me to address you as The Boy Who Brought the Rain with Him, I’d like it if you told me your name. I’m Woohyun,’ he uttered, hand lifting to salute, lips quirked.

‘It’s S-Sunggyu. And I’m not exactly what most people would deem a boy.’

Woohyun was suddenly close. Their shoulders would have touched if they had been standing side by side. The shift Sunggyu made was indiscreet. Woohyun took a long draw, orange end almost red.

He exhaled, breathing smoke into Sunggyu’s face. ‘Hello Sunggyu, it’s nice to meet you.’

He submitted into a coughing fit; the cold forgotten as he tumbled backwards, hands frantic. Woohyun considered him for a moment before resuming to pressing against the wall, cigarette pressed between thin lips.

–

The following day saw Woohyun nestling in between wide roots with drafts propped up his knees and a pen in hand. And so he wrote, with the grass tickling his skin and the sweep of blue framing yellowing fields before him. He thought little – or none at all – about yesterdays or tomorrows or forever. Instead, he considered the in between and the overlapping and sprawling universes only he saw and knew of.

And so, Woohyun wrote.

–

It was not the stifling neckline or muggy weather that stirred Woohyun from sleep but the disturbed silence that got him up against the curved bark, hand unceremoniously stifling a yawn. He poked his head from behind the trunk, the town’s contour filling his view, only to realize that the source of bother had mellowed out to a low hum.

With a of his lips, he searched his pockets for a cigarette. Woohyun liked his naps, with zero interference at best. Fatigue was for the weak and most certainly a hindrance when it came to his work, something he could not quite afford.

The taste of burned nicotine brought a sort of comfort, the lines on his forehead smoothing. Smoking had proved to be a discomforting luxury for him. It scratched at the walls of his oesophagus as he drew on the unit, lungs expanded wide. But he often found himself with a stick in between his teeth as he worked on scripts in his study or stretched out in the gardens as night befell the earth. He soon realized that it was mostly out of habit, which has recently evolved into a sort of temporary relief.

He quickly circled round the tree, not caring to ferry his belongings along. At the slightest movement, his eyes would dart around and his hands, unnaturally clammy. The humming had immediately ceased when his shadow slid over a hunched back and Woohyun was about to open his mouth when he makes out the face of Kim Sunggyu staring right back at him.

‘You,’ he said with narrowed eyes, rising from his seated form.

Shoulders shaking, Woohyun was suddenly all open mouthed and doubling over in laughter, cigarette forgotten. He pressed his hand to his face, hopelessly seeking for the composure he had held only moments ago. Amidst scrambling feet and echoing amusement, it took Woohyun a second too late to realize that Sunggyu was shoving him, shouting something he could not quite register.

The wood was painful against his back as he found himself trapped between two sturdy arms; Sunggyu’s mouth still persisting despite its stiff ends. But Woohyun had stopped laughing.

‘Just what is your ing problem?’

Sunggyu was boring. He lacked charisma and was reticent in nature.

‘You,’ he replied offhandedly, noticing the red in small ears and the tremor of lips.

He was, in Woohyun’s eyes, the most unsuspecting protagonist.

‘We meet again.’

But Woohyun did not believe in singular entities.

‘Unfortunately so,’ he bit back.

Unbothered by the hostility, he drew up to Sunggyu. ‘But more importantly, what is it about me?’

‘An offensive existence that needs to stop acting like he’s some smart aleck,’ he seethed with anger, retreating quickly.

‘Is Sunggyu also the synonym for grumpy?’ A bark of laughter left his lips as he deviated to Sunggyu’s left, dropping to his feet.

As Woohyun shook the brush dust off the length, he watched the face before him hold a look of disgust as he set the length into his mouth. He mentioned towards the roll. ‘Shouldn’t waste such good substance.’

Face crumpled, Sunggyu distanced himself even further. Woohyun realized that it was not his lack of hygiene that was repelling but the stick in his mouth. At this realization, something flapped in his peripheral vision: a spread of papers sitting by the roots, black scrawls filling its space. Woohyun would have thought that Sunggyu was lunging at him but he was mistaken – it was towards the base of the tree. Revelation uncared for, he ensued. He pushed at the tangle of arms and braved through scratching nails and he was so very close, Sunggyu’s breathing in his ear. Elbowing the other, he ducked and dove. Recognizing the crumpling underneath his pads, he rose in victory.

‘What do we have here?’ he teased, waving the papers around. ‘You’ve terrible handwriting by the way.’

Sunggyu swung forward, striving to reach, eyes fixed on Woohyun. ‘Get your hands off those.’

It was easy to keep the article at an arm’s length away from Sunggyu. Despite his taller stature, he lacked grace and flexibility – something Woohyun seemed to have been blessed with – to his unfortunateness. He also lacked the ability to withstand the former’s smoking tendencies.

Ignoring Sunggyu’s protests, he brought the papers – worn and thin – close. It was almost impossible to read, characters so small it was as though he wanted to keep prying eyes and loose lips at bay. Every strike out word and rearranged sections made it evident that the papers that Sunggyu was hankering for held lyrical value.

‘This is quite the surprise,’ he remarked, ‘I didn’t expect our Sunggyu to be a lyricist. Sing it for me!’

‘ you.’

‘Oh play nice you grumpy man. Come on, sing it!’

His distaste for the cigarette that rested between full lips was overlooked as Sunggyu sprang onto his back, feet off the ground as he propelled himself towards the flimsy objects. Woohyun remained unfazed, curling inwards, arms almost touching the ground as he examined the first line amidst scribbled corrections.

‘I feel that,’ he started off, pitch high. A kick in the calf followed but Woohyun only snickered in response.

‘And I thought that you, of all people, would know how to actually sing.’

‘If you weren’t weighing me down, I would’ve done a whole lot better. ’

‘Not if you refuse to return my things back.’ He climbed higher, eliciting grunts from Woohyun. ‘It’s probably against your moral values but please return those lyrics back to me.’

‘Well Mr Lyricist, it’s either you allow me to further butcher your song or do a perfect demonstration for the world to praise. It’s the least you could do after ruining my beauty sleep,’ he added as an afterthought, smile wide and deliberate.

‘Excuse me?’

‘We don’t have all day for me to connect the dots for you. Come on, sing!’ he enthused. ‘And get off my back while you’re at it.’

‘What – no!’

‘We can stay here all night if you want – just you, me and the stars. That’d make a nice get to know session, don’t you think?’

‘You’re ridiculous.’

‘Says the stubborn mule,’ he said airily. ‘You give me no choice.’

He swiftly inclined to the right, pulling Sunggyu’s arm as he did so. The gasp of surprise came as Woohyun lugged him forward. Sunggyu’s eyes are squeezed tight in wait of the drop that never comes.

‘While I might think that you’re cute with eyes as tiny as buttons, completely ceasing their existence in hopes to spite me isn’t going to make it any less appealing,’ Woohyun deadpanned, pulling him to his feet.

Bleary eyed and blinking, he scoffed. ‘Fine, fine, fine, you win. Just – just promise not to laugh. And don’t you dare breathe smoke into my face ever again.’

He waggled his pinkie in between them and when Sunggyu just stared at him, Woohyun simply grabbed his hand to do the same. Their pinkies crossed and as he curved his, he said, ‘Pinkie promise.’

–

When Sunggyu sang, Woohyun had expected a mirrored level of plainness. And it showed – shaky confidence, typicality and a glint of raw talent. It if were not for being perspicacious, he would have missed the sharp intakes of breath and slight tremor – he was sure it was not from being nervous – in his voice. There was also something else, flashing red and overwhelming, similar to unreachable dreams and harboured resentment.

It was too short, something most displeasing to Woohyun. The moment Sunggyu opened his eyes and looked down at him, it was back to conformity and the façade that has become second nature to him.

The silence that arose subsequently brought along fumbling fingers and knitting brows.

His head snapped up and Woohyun found it impossible to distinguish the expression he held. ‘I-I shouldn’t have – it was terrible, I –’

‘You were brilliant. Absolutely riveting,’ he interjected, the creases in his eyes deepening as he smiled.

He grappled with voicing a rationale but nothing came. Woohyun leaned towards him, arm wound around tensed shoulders. His company did not recoil, choosing to stare at the stub he had insisted Woohyun to dispose of instead.

His breath tickled flushed ears. ‘You were great, Sunggyu. You really were.’

When they laid underneath the vast sky, much to Sunggyu’s disdain, Woohyun realized that only the moon looked down on them. He turned to his left, question on the tip of his tongue, only to find the other fast asleep. Mouth uply ever slightly, he returned to watching the breadth overhead, fishing out another stick to light.

If he could watch Sunggyu sing all of his life, he could very well figure out living dreams and the human spirit.

–

The afternoons spent lying amongst unkempt flora became a retreat, much like the gardens and the study he dearly missed. He would spend mornings asleep and nights underneath a vast sky. While Sunggyu would occasionally lament about how unnecessary of a presence Woohyun was, taking his seat beside him soon became a convenient routine. Sometimes, they talked. Other times, they kept to themselves. Most of the time, Sunggyu would sing and sing and sing until it got too dark to make out civilization.

And when he asked why Woohyun was always spending his time in the outlying areas of town, he would simply reply, ‘The town is too dreary for a person like me.’

He would never tell Sunggyu about the pen that was responsible for his characters and their realities. Doing away with complexities made it more tolerable and was less taxing on the soul.

–

‘You’ve never told me where you came from.’

‘Does it matter?’

‘That’s not an answer, Woohyun.’

‘I don’t think it’s of any significance to be one.’

‘Being mysterious isn’t very tasteful.’

Woohyun rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin in his palms. ‘Tell me Sunggyu, why are you still here?’

‘Besides the fact that you completely ignored me, what kind of question is that? I’m here because this was where I grew up. It’s my home,’ he responded without so much as batting an eyelid.

‘You’re not answering either so it’s a fair trade.’

Casting him an annoyed look, he said, ‘You’re so difficult. I don’t even know why I put up with you.’

‘You’d be here regardless,’ he remarked with his eyes closed.

Sunggyu flopped atop him, a snorting mess. Woohyun shoved him off, dusting himself as he stood.

‘I need a smoke. Later.’

‘Wait, I’ll come along.’

‘But the smell is not to your Sire’s fancy.’

‘Is mocking all you’re ever good at?’

Woohyun brought the lighter close. ‘It suits conversations with you best.’

‘Short people are just angry people, aren’t they?’

‘You try hard, I’ll give you that,’ he said as he tipped his head in acknowledgement.

The pointed look thrown in his direction was completely dismissed, as he chose to face dry grass and an endless road instead. He blew upwards, watching the grey from the smoke dissipate with the bringing wind. It would be fleeting – missing the outskirts. He had grown quite fond of the lone oak tree’s companionship with its reaches an act of shelter, and permanent residency a form of comfort.

It took Woohyun a moment too late to register Sunggyu’s hold on his arm, much like the withdrawing of the cigarette in his mouth. The brief contact of clumsy lips felt like an impossible dream. There was a fleeting flash of flushed skin as fingers crawled up to his shirt, reeling him in again. He almost forgets about the stick caught in between long, shapely fingers.

‘Your breath stinks,’ he said amidst the shy pulling of lips.

‘Don’t kid yourself. You’re still kissing me.’


*not so much of an epilogue:

He reached out, pushing against shoulders, fingers revelling in warm skin. The weight underneath him tumbled easily despite the following string of protests of Woohyun this is not the time and watch the joints. He paid no heed; knee resting in between Sunggyu’s thighs, hands curling round wrists as his eyes took in the latter’s face with hooded lids. Just as he lowered himself, his body was flipped over. He watched familiar lips rose into a smirk.

‘Is topping your forte or are you just trying to prove to yourself that you can actually top someone?’

Sunggyu rolled his eyes. ‘Why do you say the most embarrassing things?’

‘It’s only embarrassing because you know it’s true,’ he retorted, arm slung round Sunggyu’s neck.

‘Yapping away isn’t exactly a charm. Put your mouth to better use,’ he muttered, dipping for contact.

But as he did so, Woohyun locked his left leg with Sunggyu’s, hands driving him onto his back. He tried to raise his body but Woohyun was faster, forcing his entire weight onto the former.

As he watched Sunggyu laugh, mouth wide open, he reached for the edge of arced eyes. He smiled bitterly to himself. Sunggyu was getting better (at lying, pretending and everything else that he was living by).

‘Cheater.’ Sunggyu huffed, feigning an offended front.

His fingers brushed the line of red, meeting lips that betrayed what his eyes voiced (and actions that exercised what his heart covet). Throughout knocking teeth and contesting tongues, Woohyun could only think that Sunggyu was just as much of one as he was.