When I open my eyes, I am no longer surrounded by the white void. Instead, I am in a warmer setting, one that is oh so familiar to me. It was the house that I grew up in, and here I was standing in the living room, frozen in time.

I glance around at the childhood photos and all the warm decorations. I missed this place, and a twinge of pain echos through my heart. The only reason I had to leave was because of my mother. She hated living in this place. So at the beginning of high school, she decided for us to move, meaning I had to change schools.

I hated her for it for the longest time. It was bad news from the beginning, but I cried a lot. It felt like my world ended, for one reason.

Guitar chords ring down the hallway, startling me a little bit. I walk, something that seemed foreign on these floors, towards where the noise was coming from. Of course, it came from my old room. Being a silly, innocent teenager, the walls were covered in bands that I loved and pictures of me and my friends. One friend in particular shows up in most of the photos.

He is the one playing the guitar, sitting comfortably on my bed like he used to do. Instead of his usual chubby face and short hair, he slimmed down some and let his hair grow out some. Concentrating on playing the notes on the string instrument made him even more attractive. He had this habit of his lips whenever he concentrated on something with all his mind.

“Himchan…” I felt his name roll out my mouth in a soft whisper. He glances up at me, and I hold my breath. His eyes were the same sweet eyes from our childhood, even though they were no longer behind those dorky glasses he used to wear. He gave me a soft smile, before returning to the guitar. I just sit down at the chair at my desk, listening to the soothing notes. I remember him wanting to impress a girl with his playing. I remember all the times he would come to me crying because a girl thought he was ugly. I was always there to cheer him up with oreos and milk, making sure to always have them on hand.

Kim Himchan was always a sensitive child, but he was one of my “bestest” friends I had ever met. When I moved, I couldn’t keep contact with him because of the distance. My mom always told me that postage was too much! Everything was so difficult without cellphones, even trying to call through landline was too much. My mom was always picky with trying to call Himchan, but not ever with any of my other friends. I think she hated him coming over and hanging out with me; she thought it would detract from my studies, but I knew him since we were toddlers! I fuss at her for being friends with his mom and dad.

When he stops playing, he sets down the guitar and now turn his attention to me. I stand up and walk over to him, throwing my arms around him, “Oh Channie, I’ve missed you so much. I thought I would never see you again.”

“I missed you too, and I wanted to see you again too!” he says, wrapping his arms around me. His voice sounded velvety, unlike the awkward prepubescent voice I remember. I feel him pulling me away to look at my face, “But I don’t want to see you like this.”

“What do you-”

“Sebin, you’re dead,” he mumbles, “I wanted you to live until you grew old and then I would meet you again, but you died at a young age.”

I nod at that fact, because it was one I forgot. It is the only reason I am here in the first place, but...what about him? Himchan is here, and pretty young as well, “Himchan, why are you here?”

Himchan remains quiet, only indicating for me to sit next to him by patting the space on the bed. I sit next to him and he pulls out a stash of Oreos I used to keep in my room, just for him. He places on one in my hand. They show no sign of age, just like the rooms, “I’ve been here, waiting for you so I can move on.”

“W-what does that mean?” I yell, “Waiting for me? To move on from what?”

Himchan chuckles, “You always asked 20 questions whenever I came over to tell something. I died a year or so before you did. When I showed up here, I knew that I was going to be waiting for you. To be honest, I was hoping I would never meet you here, cause the second you showed up would be when you were dead. I guess we all can’t have our wish.”

“So, you waited here for me? I had to be dead?”

He nods his head, “For me to move on, I had to meet people who impacted my life the most. You were one of those people because you meant so much to me when we were younger.” Himchan bites into his Oreo, humming at the delicious taste that it offered. We sat together in silence, just eating Oreos and enjoying each other’s company.

“So what do we have to do to move on in this?” I ask, “I’m sure you want to move on after this since you’ve been waiting a long time right?”

He remains silent; his face contorts into a mournful look. I wonder if it was the right thing to ask. It’s been ages since we’ve seen each other, and I ask something like that. I’m such an idiot.

“Do you know why your mother decided to move?” he asks. I stare at him, shrugging my shoulders. I guess that I never inquired since it was my mother’s own personal business. He scoffs, “I’m guessing she never told you.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, getting frustrated with him, “I’m sure my mother had good reason to move, even though I hate her for it.”

“I guess you really don’t know.” he says, “it’s not your fault. When I found out, I wanted to find your mother and apologize to her.”

I furrow my eyebrows, “What do you mean? You’re starting to freak me out Himchan.”

“Remember how we said that we would get married when we were kids. Have a big family, live out in the country and raise our own farm. I never thought it would all come crumbling down right in front of me.”

“Himchan, those times were great; but if you know something that I don’t, I want you to tell me,” I say, reaching my hand out to hold his. It is warm, and my heart starts racing just like it did when we were children.

“Do you really want to know?” he asks, “I think it would be nice for us to live like this. Isn’t this what we wanted when we were younger?”

I stare at him, “Himchan, I think if I did stay here, we could have been something more. I honestly think that. I would have loved you, but I had to move. It was not in my control. I am sorry, but you’re not telling me something very important. It would be more painful for you to not tell me and pretend to be happy with me than to just tell me up front.”

Silence fills the room again. His eyes turn glossy as I can see the tears well up in his eyes. I honestly felt if I stayed here I would have loved him and fulfilled my childhood dreams. Then again, I hit myself upside the head since I have a fiance...that I probably would never see again.

“I guess I should tell you,” Himchan mumbles, “I thought you would have known. I just want to start at the beginning of how we met so you don’t get confused. Think of it as a nice trip down memory lane okay?”

Nervous, I nod my head. Something boils in the pit of my stomach, and I dread him telling me. Trying to shake off the feeling, we lay down on the bed to get comfortable. Starting at the ceiling, I lay there listening to his story.