it was autumn when jongin was 13, bright and beautiful and adored by everyone. a golden child they said. and a golden child he was, held and exhibitioned by his parents like a trophy, that they have won from life. life was all about good grades, pumping feelings of happiness and love in every inch of his life. but, it was all that is seen from the surface. looking back at that time, despite the less amount of pain that he felt at that time, he could not feel anything. there was not a single emotion that he feels, when he went surfing through his waves of memories. it was, as if the time before he was thirteen never existed, as if he just woke up from a dream. 

it was the turning point of his life. he did not exactly know what happened with him, but for sure he began to feel all sort of feelings at that age. as if his soul was replaced by the soul of someone overflowing with feelings. for a young boy, he felt a lot of things. wet dreams happened, of course, but the things that he felt are a lot more deep and emotional than that. he grew sensitive, and he felt the changes that happened to the people around him; his friends, family. at the age of thirteen, jongin grew up. and it was because of a single mistake. he remembered every bad things that happened to him, vividly. it hurted him, and it forced him to build a wall around him. 

"hey, jongin! don't space out too much okay?"jongin snapped back to reality, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. he looked up to see a pair of eyes that resemble his. " i wasn't spacing out, mingyu''

third year of high school, jongin is still the golden child, with less passion and brightness, and he lost that certain glint of light in his eyes. but he gained something in return for all the pain that he suffered for his feeling heart, sadness in which he turns it occasionally into art.

mingyu shook his head, tired at his bestfriend's denial. "that's the 4th time you already said that, jongin. at least, you should admit this one". jongin only stares at his bestfriend's annoyed face, by now he should be able to retort back with his sarcastic jokes or even change the topic, but there are days when jongin just want to back off and let mingyu conclude his own answer. some questions are better left unanswered, as that is how life works.

mingyu sighs, with scrunched eyebrows and a shrug in the shoulders. jongin was always a mystery, despite how he stripped his walls to people, there will always be another invinsible wall that he did not realized he already built, but mingyu understands, it's the sort of his self-protection from other people, including him. mingyu is well aware of his mood swings and constant depression, despite how jongin always attempts to conceal it with crazy jokes and boisterous laughters.

"high school will end soon, mingyu"jongin laid down on the floor of the unused art room, his body felt heavier with all the worries he carried inside. they always hang out at that place, and they have the conscience to clean the place by themselves. crowds make mingyu anxious and irritated, and jongin was never fond of buzzing noises of chattering students as gossips and insults and profanitites evaporate into the air, staining their ears. 

mingyu heaves a heavy breath and laid beside him."i guess so"they laid beside an open window, as the gentle breeze of the wind brushes their faces, pushing tresses of brown from their faces. 

it feels serene, jongin thought.

i want this moment to last forever, mumbles mingyu.

"me too. this is probably the only time that i don't worry for my future. i'm afraid that i will fail, and i don't have enough power and hope to stand up anymore, man"boys don't cry, they said. but jongin does not see the difference anymore. his eyes are blinded by clouds of dissapointment that would appear in his life if he were to fail. at that moment, jongin embraces the fact that he was surviving, and he was human. living is not the word, for he spent each day of his life worrying about everything and everyone and himself. tears fell and jongin was himself, broken and alone.

mingyu only looks at the lines of acrylic paintings being hung on the walls. he wished that God had created him as a painting; scenic, unmoving but eternal. he does not loathe life, he just despises the world. life, after all, life is a gorgeous, broken gift. it was because of the people living inside it that makes it even more broken and dysfunctional. he does not want to see the frail side of his friend, he is afraid that he could not handle it and ended up broken too. 

he places his hand on his shoulder, feeling his body holding in trembles of his crying.

"that's life for you, man. but you need to keep holding on, so you can see whatever we have gone through, will give us in return"

jongin never knows from where does mingyu get the wisest words in the most perfect times. but he knows, that it's the truth.

"gyu, have i ever said that you are my bestest friend in the whole universe?"

mingyu chuckles as he could feel jongin's teary eyes and him holding his snots in his side. 

"cut the cheesy words, jongin. i already knew that."