‘I need to leave.’

Those were the words Luhan had told Jongin on the phone that night, when he had asked Jongin to meet him by the entrance of the golf course a little ways from their neighbourhood. 

Jongin had gone to meet Luhan, of course, even though it had been minutes from midnight, and his parents had long fallen asleep. There was something in Luhan’s voice that had him really worried. He had sounded so… broken.

When Jongin had walked up to Luhan’s slumped silouette leaning against the fence with hands tucked into his jacket pockets, he had sensed that something was different, although he couldn’t quite place it. Luhan hadn’t uttered a word upon Jongin’s arrival, only reaching out to take the younger boy by the hand and leading him into the golf course.

Jongin had been too concerned over why Luhan would be acting this way to feel any alarm that his best friend seemed to be familiar with trespassing on private property (in the eerie hours of the night, no less). The thought of asking why Luhan had brought him here out of the blue just never occured to him. He stayed silent, lacking the confidence that he had the right words to coax Luhan out of his low spirits.

Together, they threaded through the dewy fields wordlessly, crossing over synthetic mounds and shallow basins. With nothing but the full moon illuminating their path, they wander deeper and deeper into the vast expanse.

Luhan stops, taking off his jacket and kneeling down to spread it out on the grass. He lies down on it, leaving some space next to him. ‘Lie down with me, Jongin,’ he whispers. 

Jongin’s vision had adjusted to the dark by now, and he looks around, taking in the sheer expanse of the golf course. There is nothing but dwarfed hills and shallow depressions, the landscape completely desolate with the exception of a few palm trees scattered around, everything cloaked in twilight. It was tranquil, almost dream-like.

He takes off his own jacket and settles down next to Luhan, pulling the soft material over Luhan and himself, shielding them from the chilly wind. They are quiet for a while, drinking in the wide sea of stars dotting the night sky.

Before Jongin could muster up enough courage to break the silence, Luhan raises a pointed finger to the cloudless sky. ‘That’s the Orion’s Belt. Do you see it, Jongin?’ Luhan asks, eyes still fixed upon the constellation.

Jongin turns his attention away from the older boy and follows the direction in which Luhan has his finger pointed to. He has never seen the night sky like this, so brilliantly speckled with countless stars. ‘What does it look like?’

‘There are three stars,’ Luhan whispers, his voice almost inaudible as the wind rustles through the trees. ‘They are all lined up in a straight line.’

Luhan tilts his head towards Jongin, continuing as the younger boy searches the sky, ‘I always thought that was so phenomenal. So… miraculous. In the disarray and intersperse of millions of stars, there are those three – Orion’s Belt – aligned in an almost perfect line. Is that a coincidence, Jongin?’

Luhan is right, Jongin thinks, staring hard into the sky, focusing on the muted shine emitting from the row of stars. ‘They are breathtaking,’ Jongin agrees.

‘Yeah,’ Luhan replies, sounding disengaged from the conversation. ‘They really are.’

Luhan shifts around, fishing out a rectangular object from his jeans pocket. He plugs in a pair of earphones into the device, holding up an earbud to Jongin, ‘Take this.’

Jongin complies without hesitating, and Luhan continues to explain. ‘It’s pretty old, but it was… a gift,’ pressing down on the device that Jongin recognizes as a cassette player.

A dulcet tune begins to play, and a deep, mellow voice starts singing a song unfamiliar to Jongin’s ears.

Strangers in the night, exchanging glances. Wandering in the night; what were the chances? We’d be sharing love before the night was through.

Luhan begins to sing along as well, and Jongin is afraid to speak, fearful that the older boy may get flustered and stop. Because Luhan’s voice is like the velvet night, tracing every contour of the melody, saccharine and intimate. Jongin pulls out his earpiece furtively, careful not to get caught. He angles his head towards Luhan, noticing the way moonlight catches on his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips. This is Jongin’s first time listening to Luhan sing, and he finds himself silently hoping that it wouldn’t be the last.

Something in your eyes was so inviting, something in your smile was so exciting. Something in my heart told me I must have you.

They spend the night like this, going through Luhan’s mixtape playlist over and over until they wake up to the sunlight peering over the horizon, shades of morning permeating into dusk and dusting the sky in soft yellow and pink hues.

As they thread home, the streets devoid of cars, the neighbourhood completely quiet, Luhan gives the cassette player to Jongin, with the mixtape inside.

‘I want you to keep it for me,’ Luhan says, making Jongin promise.

‘Until when, hyung?’ Jongin asks, rubbing his eye with one hand and taking the cassette player in his other.

Luhan smiles and pats down Jongin’s bed hair. ‘Until the time is right.’