Always

Suho is always there.

Suho was always there when Kai danced. Suho didn’t know what Kai real name was. Kai was the stage name and it was all he knew. Suho didn’t want to miss Kai’s performance. Suho didn’t want to miss seeing Kai dancing under the spotlight; his tan skin would sparkle and Kai would look really, really beautiful. Suho envied Kai’s skin. The dancer’s skin wasn’t pale and didn’t look unhealthy as his.

Suho was always there when Kai practiced. Suho loved the fact that Kai always practiced on the stage. Stage was the only place that could suit Kai’s dance. Suho loved all songs Kai played when he danced. He never knew the titles, but he loved them. They were passionate, but sometimes they had such sad melodies. They were beautiful. Kai had a good taste in choosing which song that would be theme song of his dancing.

Suho was always there when Kai let out a muffled scream when he kept doing mistakes while dancing. It wasn’t so pleasant to see the guy depressed. Suho wanted to see Kai’s smiling face, not his stressful expression. Suho didn’t know what he should do to make the boy feel better, but he stayed until Kai was okay.

Suho didn’t know since when he started following the dancer. It felt like he had done that for a long, long time. He didn’t know until when he would still follow Kai, but Suho didn’t want to stop yet.

Time kept ticking and Kai grew older, mature enough to get married and have a family. Suho was still there when the dancer decided to marry a girl, who was a dancer too, just like him. Suho was there when Kai proposed her, on the center of the stage, under the spotlight. Suho was there when the girl said yes to Kai. Suho was there when Kai kissed the girl.

When Kai stepped out of the building with the girl’s hand held in his, Suho knew it would be the time to say goodbye.

Kai never came to perform on the stage anymore. People said he had moved out to another city. Kai was promoted to be a professional dancer in Seoul, they said. The dancer had moved a week after his marriage.

Suho really wanted to move along with Kai. He still wanted to see Kai’s performance. He still wanted to accompany Kai when the dancer practiced. He still wanted to see Kai dancing under the spotlight. If only he could do it.

Suho knew his time with Kai was over. No, he never had time to spend with Kai. Kai couldn’t see him. Kai couldn’t feel him. Suho was only a spirit. Suho was the spirit of the stage where Kai used to dance. He couldn’t go anywhere. No matter how hard Suho tried to pass the door of the building, he still couldn’t. Suho was the stage and the stage should stay at where it belonged to.

Suho would always be there, never going anywhere.

♦♦♦

It had been years since Kai last visited the art school where he learned about dancing and all back in college. The place did change a lot, many new buildings were built. Kai couldn’t believe it; he was almost lost in the place where he studied and practiced and even performed for years.

Kai looked around in awe. The art school was a prestigious art institute in the city and actually, it wasn’t so surprising that the place had been progressing rapidly. Kai had been retired from being a dancer—he already in his mid-forties and it was time for him to stop dancing. However, looking at the institute brought him many memories.

Kai let his feet step into the place he missed the most: the ballroom. He used to dance there. He even practiced there, even though they had practice studios. Kai always loved the stage. Not because he was selfish and arrogant, and wanting to be on the stage, but because the stage itself.

Kai had already had many stages after his graduation. He and his wife had performed in many places with many beautiful stages, but nothing could replace the institute ballroom’s stage. No place could give him such peace, such self-esteem, like the institute’s stage.

Somehow, deep inside his heart, Kai knew there was something—or someone—living on that stage. He knew that no matter what it was, it kept being with him, accompanying him dancing all the time. Kai could feel a gentle presence congratulating him after his performance, keeping him on his feet when he felt like he would fall down. Kai knew, but he couldn’t see it, and he never acted like he could feel its presence.

Sitting on the stage felt so nostalgic and once again, Kai could feel the gentle presence surrounding him. “I know you’re still here…” he whispered, knowing that it, or he, or she, could hear him. “I feel like mad man to talk with someone invisible, but I know you’re here… you’ve been here since the first time I came here.”

A warm breeze blew Kai’s hair gently, making Kai sure that he wasn’t alone.

“Thank you for always accompanying me every time I danced. Thank you for always comforting me. Whatever you are; thank you.”