Hakyeon. 

When I was 16, I fell in love with a girl. We didn't go to school together and we didn't live close to each other. We were practically strangers, but we weren't. We went to the same dance school on Tuesdays and Thursdays and we took up ballet, jazz and interpretive.

She was, undoubtedly the most beautiful person I have ever encountered. From her little gestures to her grandest ones, every move was as if it was rehearsed. Her eyes were always glistening and fierce; her hair was always kept in a high ponytail; her t-shirt was always a pastel colour, loose against her toned body; and her toes, they were strong, quick and never seem to tire. I could watch her dance all day long.

She wasn't much of a talker, but she was always composed and kind to anyone who approached her. She would offer the littlest of conversations and the warmest of smiles. I've tried numerous times to befriend her, but I always return with a sigh.

There was always a wall. She had built it there, in between herself and anyone else who dares poke about her life. It wasn't menacing, nor was it defensive, but it was there. 

She was always the last to leave the practice room on Thursdays, but one fated day, I decided to take her place. I told our instructor I felt like I needed a little more practice than usual. While I was mulling over my steps, this beautiful girl- this quiet, kept, beautiful girl walked up to me and pointed out how my posture had dented a bit throughout the week. She asked if I was stressed.

"Your postures have always been the best among us, even for the hardest of routines. Is something bothering you?" She asked with the kindest smile on her face.

Bravely, I said, "you."

While I had waited for her to reply in a manner that would disappoint me, she let out a little laugh as the tip of her ears turned pink. 

"I think you're the only person here to try as hard to make friends with me. I appreciate it, very much, but-" 

"It's okay. I don't mind remaining as we are, I just thought I had to take my shot. At least you're talking to me," I gave out a wry laugh, shrugging.

Her smile was still so beautifully plastered, but the tension in her shoulders slowly disappeared. She leaned against the railings along the mirror and let out the tiniest of sighs.

"I forgot how to be friends with people." 

Her voice was quiet, and something about her tone was somewhat defensive. She hugged herself close and kept her eyes on her toes.

"You're very good at being my very opposite. I see you helping the other dancers and making casual conversations with them, but I can't see myself being a part of it... no matter how hard you try." 

She looked at me, and for the very first time, I saw a smile that wasn't hers. It was a smile that was meant for someone else, for something else- a distant memory.

"Then I'll stop. I'm sorry if I had made you feel uncomfortable all this time. I just-" 

"You were just being you. There isn't a need for apologies."

Her smile was hers again. She let go of her arms and walked over to her duffle bag. She hesitated, but then took a small trinket out and walked back to me. She held out her hand, and in it, was a palm-sized plush keychain.

"I've been meaning to give this you."

She took my breath away. 

"I thought I was imposing on you... why would you give this to me?" I was very confused.

She hesitated to say. It was evident that she was deciding whether or not say what she was about to say. I was nervous. 

"I'm going to tell you something very important. Something I haven't spoken about in almost a year. Something that has been haunting me."

"... why? Why are you telling me? We're... barely friends."

"Because you're my only hope."

"Hello? Earth to Hakyeon? You promised to focus on this movie, but there you go again spacing out. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Uh yeah, um- I'm sorry, I just-" 

"... hey. It's okay... It's okay."

"Can we just... Can I just shut things out for a bit? I feel... I feel a little stuffy."

"Okay, sure. I'll turn the TV off. How about I open the balcony door? Let the cool night air in, hm? Maybe it'll help with the stuffiness."

The couch shifted a little with the other standing. The TV was turned off and the balcony door was welcoming in the autumn's cool night air. The empty spot on the couch was filled in again.

"Talk to me, Hakyeon."

Slowly. So slowly, Hakyeon took a deep breath in and found a pair of hands to go in his shaking ones.

"I was just remembering her again."

"Oh... babe." 

"It's nothing. I just... We went in the factory today. God knows how many times I've been in there this year, but today... today, in that level, everything about it reminded me of her. The gentle breeze, that soft colour of the sky... those kind words..."

Hakyeon felt an arm assuring him, strong and reliable on his back. He smiled to the other in return. 

"You know, I am so thankful to her. If it weren't for her kind intentions, I never would've met you... I just wish it were under better circumstances. I hate to do this to you, even after months. To think she would- she would-"

"Hey, hey it's okay. It's okay. It's not your fault. It never was. She was broken, Hakyeon. She didn't have the chance to heal, yes, but you were there. Your hand- your warm, gentle helping hands were there. She took it, didn't she? But... it was just bad timing, and life's all about timing. It was not, in any way, your fault."

He wanted to agree, to say that it wasn't his fault, but emotions were taking over him. He buried his face in his better half's shoulders and closed the gap between their bodies. 

"It's okay. It'll all be okay." 

After the close sign was turned over, it was another day of business for the pet shop and another day of management for the factory.

"Good morning, hyung." 

"Good morning, Sanghyuk. Is that corndog I smell? Got 1 for me?"

"Oh yeah, I got 2 actually. Wonshik was being an again, so I bought 2 to spite him. He left me on seen when I sent the picture," the younger huffed.

"You'll corrupt him. He might be 2 years older than you, but you've taught him a good many things about being a child, seeming you are one," Hakyeon laughed. 

"He started it. Who knows what construe even means? Vocabularies don't trump life lessons."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about, but you should make up already. I don't want any fights, okay? My eyebags are worse than ever already."

"You could say that again. What happened? Did you cry because of a movie again? Jaehwan hyung-"

"Yes? Jaehwan is here!"

The door flung open, and appeared through it were two young men with a paper bag in one hand and a warm cup of coffee in the other.

"I got you coffee," said Jaehwan. 

He settled the cup on the counter and pecked a kiss on Hakyeon's cheek.

"Were you gossiping about me, Han Sanghyuk? I'll pinch you if you did."

"Why would you pinch what's mine?" Wonshik raised a brow.

Hyuk turned to the other and exaggerated a gasp. His smile was as wide as ever, but in truth, he was touched. He put one of the corndogs on Hakyeon's coffee cup and the other in Wonshik's mouth. Before the other could do anything, he took the cup out of his hand and walked towards the back of the shop. Wonshik quietly followed.

"It amazes me how childish they can be," Hakyeon laughed. 

He took a bite out of his corndog and sipped on his coffee. Jaehwan came up to the back of the counter to join him. He rested a cheek on the other's arm and sighed.

"Are you sure you're up for work? You can always call Minhyuk in. The other branch has settled in quite a bit for the past month. He'll be happy to help."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here. My guts told me I shouldn't be leaving you alone today," he snuggled closer.

"You mean it told you while you were pooping?" Hakyeon chuckled.

"Toilet intuition, I call it."

"I'm sorry about earlier."

Hyuk looked up and found the elder's eyes. He put away the puppy kibbles and sat next to him.

"It was a move... but I'm sorry too."

"I'll do better-"

"No. I'll do better. It was wrong of me to lash out the way I did. I didn't explain myself, so it was only right that you had worried."

Not wanting to overstep again, Wonshik laid a hand on the other's thigh quietly.

Earlier.

"Wow, it's so cold."

"Are you surprised? It's 7 am on an autumn morning, and you're barely wearing anything. Get back under the covers."

"But it's refreshing. It's like that day."

"... that bench was really cold. I still wonder how you could have sat there for hours."

"I have a thick ," Hyuk gave the other a smirk.

"Han Sanghyuk, you are vulgar," Wonshik laughed, throwing a pillow at him.

Sanghyuk.

My parents and I have always been close. We did everything together. We do house chores together, we go shopping together, we go on trips together, we even go to the convenience store together if we had the chance. I loved every moment we had in that house, every corner seemed to have a good memory of us for me to remember. Oh, and the house... it was a great house. Dad loved everything about poetries. He couldn't write any to save his life, but he loved reading them. He was a simple salaryman, but whenever he had the chance, he would spend his money on either me and mum or shelf extensions for his new book collection. 

But somewhere along the line... they started to fall apart. We started to fall apart. I don't know what went wrong, and they wouldn't tell me either. I had questioned them if they were cheating on each other, but that wasn't it. All their fights were out of love. I could see them hurting, with every yell, every book thrown across the room, they both hurt. I couldn't understand them, so I was hurt as well.

Unfortunately for me, I didn't know how to be hurt. I was always loved throughout my entire life. My family loved me, and so did my friends. The only way for me to be hurt- to feel the hurt that was suffocating me in that house... was to hurt myself. All my life, I never knew I'd be someone to pick up the smallest of pocketknives and use it on myself, but as it turned out, I was.

I hurt myself.

Admittedly, I didn't know how to do it, and I wasn't brave enough to experiment. But with mum's every quiet scream, and dad's littlest of sobs, my chest tightened. I couldn't breathe. For once in my life, the books in that house was no longer of the scent I loved, it smelled of ashes. It suffocated me. I was suffocating. As I tried to get a grip of air, I found a book. Dad's favorite poetry book with illustrations. 

It had illustrations. I flipped through the once loved pages, and I found it. I found a picture of a boy, lost in a sea of stars. It was a beautiful sight, the boy. His cheeks, his shoulders, his chest, they were covered in freckles, and among those freckles, were faded lines. I first thought of them as constellations, but the more I look, the harder I focus, they weren't. They were scars, some new, some old. 

I saw them in the illustrations one day, and then in the mirror the next. I had become the lost boy in a sea of stars.

It was cold that morning. I was alone, and very much afraid of the world. My phone had been vibrating for the past hour, but I didn't feel like checking it. It was probably just mum, ready to yell about the mess I made at home. If it was up to me, I would've burned those poetry books. They were all just a facade, mum and dad probably used them to support their hypocrisy.

I took out one of their books that I decided to steal from the jacket pocket. "The Family Tree." Why would two homewreckers need such a book? I hate them. I flipped through the pages and landed on a partially damaged page. It was the page I read last night... crying. It was a single page. The pages before and after it were undamaged. Weird. I flipped from the front cover and I flipped from the back cover. It was gone.

I had wished to read the poem again. To engrave the words on my heart, so that I remember what it had advised. 

“Excuse me, I apologize for disturbing, but can you help me?” A voice said not a few feet away.

I looked up from the book and saw a light-blue haired man sitting on the other side of the bench. He was smiling.

“Sure…what can I help you with?”

“I need to go to this address but I can’t seem to find my way,” he said, handing me a piece of torn paper.

It was my home address.

“I guess you’re my parents’ guest; seeing that this is the address to my house.”

“Oh, well then, it’s quite convenient to meet you here,” he flashed a smile again.

It was very bright, that smile. His eyes even disappear.

“I’m Hyuk, by the way. Han Sanghyuk,” I held my hand out for a shake.

He wasn’t smiling. Instead, he was knitting his eyebrows together; his head a little tilted to the side. 

“If you are Hyuk, then I must be your guest because I was instructed to find this place and meet a person by the name of Hyuk.”

“... really? But I’m not expecting anyone…”

I was confused. I've never met this person, and I don't think I'll ever meet anyone like him.

His eyes were a dark shade of brown, and his lips were plump with slight tints of ember. His voice doesn't match his appearance; it was a deep, low rumble that apparently comes out as smooth as a mocha latte on cold mornings like this. His outfit was even more so. Black pants paired with a fit, grey turtleneck and a long, black coat on top. They would've looked nice and proper on a salaryman, or a graduating schoolboy, but neither would have had teal-colored hair. They were fading at the edges. 

None of it matched. 

Confused, I looked at the paper again. It's still our house's address. I flipped it to the back. 'Words Mend’ by Kim Wonshik. Words Mend? I put the paper down and flipped through dad's poetry book again. I scrolled my finger down the index and found the exact same words, "Words Mend."

For some reason, my chest had started to tighten again. I got up to leave, afraid that this man wasn't who he said he was, but I couldn't. Not when...

"By the fires of the night, I felt you. By the winds of the evening, I heard you. By the light of the morning, I saw you. 

I cannot speak for you, nor can I help you, I cannot heal for you, much less live for you, but I am here. I am here for you.

Speak to me and I will hear you; ask for my hand and I will reach out to you; heal, and I will stand by you; live, and I will live with you."

"And then you grabbed me."

"And then I held on to you," Wonshik corrected him.

"I- it was very confusing to me... and I was very scared."

"I was scared too. I was afraid you might leave me there, alone. So I grabbed your hand."

"I still don't know how you managed to remember that entire poem. Every time I hear you recite it, it runs chills down my spine," Hyuk shuddered.

"It's ingrained in me if that makes sense."

Hyuk closed the window and returned to his side of the bed. Wonshik pulled the covers up to his chest and stopped. The lines were still there. The scars. Even when Hyuk had covered them with tattoos of various constellations, he could still recognize them. He traced his fingers on them.

"I'll start buying the ointment again, okay?" He whispered.

After a short silence, Hyuk disappeared under the covers.

"They're ugly, I know. I'll buy the ointment myself, thanks."

"Hey, that's not what I meant."

"You said what you said. I'm sleeping a bit more before going to work."

"I wanted to buy the ointment because I thought they might bother you again... I see you around the house... just, stopping in front of mirrors and staring yourself down like it wasn't yourself you were seeing. It's been too often lately. I didn't want to say anything, but since you brought up the past... I thought it was time. Maybe my words were a little too blunt. I'm so-"

"No, stop. I get it. I understand. I was just... a little overwhelmed. I know you notice things, but I always forget and I always get taken aback by it. I should be thankful you're even paying attention."

Hyuk laid his hand on Wonshik's. Their fingers interlaced. 

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm sorry too. Let's get the ointment together later, okay?"

"Yeah."

It was noon.

"Wish Pet Shop, how may I assist you? Oh hey Taek- wait, what? Slow down, I can't understand."

It was noon, but clouds were heavy in the sky. It was autumn, but the weather doesn't care.

"Okay, yeah, I'll tell the others. Call me back if you find him."

"Who was that?" Jaehwan appeared from a corner.

"The new owner I was talking to you about, Taekwoon. He lost him."

"Who lost who now?" Hyuk came in through the door with a couple of boxes.

"Taekwoon. He lost Bean."