You have to stop this Howon. Focus, Hoya chided himself as he clumsily tripped over a dance routine they had been practising the past few weeks.

Your father and I are very worried about your failing grades. Hoya glanced at his haggard appearance against the mirror, but his eyes only saw the worried look of his parents as they sat him through an awfully long talk the night before.

Hoya remembered their faces to be withered with age, the corners of their eyes marked with deepening wrinkles. How long had it been since he looked at his parents closely enough to spot the greys in their hair?

Do you know how often we’ve been called to your school this semester? Only 4 more months to go till your college exams Howon-ah. Please stop this nonsense! Hoya cringed at the harsh memories of the past night, and immediately Dongwoo could sense that something was terribly off.

Are you alright Hoya?

Dongwoo had his arms enveloped around his waist now, back hugging him, something that always made Hoya feel at ease with; that skin on skin feeling forming a peaceful retreat.

Yet on the day Hoya could only feel his body tense up rigidly at Dongwoo’s touch, his face scrunched up in an ugly knot as he stared straight down at his loosened shoelaces.

Drip, drip, drop….

Hoya was sure it had been the sweat at first, but when an overwhelming feeling engulfed him from within his stomach, making him feel rightfully uncomfortable at the tightening of Dongwoo’s hug, Hoya thought he was going to cry and puke at the same time.

Out poured the tears he had suppressed for so long, and he just wanted to sit down and make a mess out of himself. As Dongwoo guided him slowly onto the floor, Hoya realised that his legs had long lost their strength and he had been leaning unworthily against Dongwoo’s broad chest for the past few minutes.

Hoya watched through those tear-stained eyes as his hyung fumbled across the dance studio for his towel, cussing at the water dispenser for emptying its contents too slowly, before scrambling back to Hoya, flurrying him with a towel and cup on each hand.

As he wailed between sobs, choking like a fish out of water, shoulders slumped mimicking a lost boy on the streets; Dongwoo could only attempt to hush his crying dongsaeng as he cradles his head protectively against his shoulders.

It’ll be okay Hoya, everything will be okay.

---

I got admitted into a dance academy in Seoul. Come with me.

Hoya will never forget the day Dongwoo blurted out those words moments before an all too important dance competition. It was short and simple, with absolutely no fanfare at all, yet it was enough to set free those butterflies in his stomach throughout. His heart was burning with passion, and the cheering crowd beyond the curtains stimulated his growing ambition.

He looked at Dongwoo incredulously as a grin spread through his face, eyes widened at the elation of a future with him.

Let’s win this, and you’ll come with me.

Dongwoo whispered as his stole a peck on his cheeks right before the curtains lifted to reveal the roaring audience.

As the spotlight flashed straight at the two dancers on stage, Hoya could feel his body radiating from the heat. Breathe in, breathe out. He was going to win this; he lived for the stage.  He had a habit of scanning each and every face in the crowd right before the music started, knowing that the people were there to see him, to cheer for him, to go crazy over him.

The first beat of the music dropped.

---

It seemed spring came early that year, as flowers bloomed along the sidewalks with an eagerness, signifying a year of new dreams and hope. The air was cool and fresh, presumably from the heavy rain that fell upon their land the night before, and each step felt lighter to take.

With their bags packed, their goodbyes said, they headed to the train station; ready to embark on a brand new journey beyond Busan.

It was a Saturday, and they were going to board the 3.02pm train. They were both anxious, both feeling jittery, hearts thumping wildly as the train eased by the platform.

The only difference, they boarded the 3.02pm train two weeks apart. Dongwoo left the second week of February to pursue his dream of dancing in Seoul as intended. Hoya remembers that there was no mention, no ‘keep in touch’, no hugs, no kisses, and no promises of true love.

Dongwoo had come and entered his life like a thunderstorm, providing him a solace where dreams and hope existed, yet just like waves washing away romantic scribbles couples often write by the beach, Dongwoo was gone, leaving zero traces behind.

Hoya left Busan two weeks later for orientation courses at his University in Seoul, following the path his father had intended him to pursue.  

They were so similar, but as two parallel lines never bound to diverge, they were destined to continue their paths alone.

---

Hoya’s parents were there that night of the competition, as Hoya locked eyes with his father, all that was returned was the disappointment splashed across his face. And as he painfully retracted his gaze towards his mother, he could not help but wonder, had that frown been carved permanently against her wearied features all this time?

I’m sorry Dongwoo. The dream that I could only wish for, please fulfill it on my behalf.

Hoya ran down the stage, chasing the turning silhouettes headed for the exit as the first beat of the music rang across the auditorium.

------

Present

Hoya was at the A&E department. He knew, because he could hear the sirens fading in the distance, could hear the screeching sounds the wheels of his bed were making as the paramedics rushed him into the room, could hear the curtains hastily pulled shut as movements went on around him. 

And he could hear, because he had a steady flow of oxygen released through the mask the paramedics had put on him. His breathing was getting weaker though, and each time he inhaled the airflow felt smaller and harder to take in. He was tired, and he wanted to stop breathing, stop trying to stay awake, stop living.

Patient’s lost his pulse, begin chest compressions, and prepare the defibrillator.

1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and…

Hoya remembers a certain someone singing a song to him once.

There’s only 1 thing 2 do 3 words 4 you, I love you.

---------------------------------

Author's Note: Was this unexpected? 

Sorry for the lack of updates. Work's been up my throat, but with Mid-Autumn festival coming real soon, I finally got a bit of spare time to finish this.

Thank you for readers, commenters and subscribers. I really enjoy the feedback given and the support as well. :) 

Next up, Woohyun.