It’s barely 8:00 on a Tuesday night and they’re already fighting. It started at dinner, started with something stupid and small and petty, something they should have just been able to brush aside but they didn’t (couldn’t) and now they were here. And it always started like this, Hanbin would make some little off hand remark and Jiwon would just get this look in his eyes, steely and blank and cold and Hanbin knew as soon as he saw it that a storm was brewing and nothing he said or did was going to stop it. He shouldn’t be surprised, because this happened more often then this didn’t but it still felt like a slap to the face every time. The worst part is Hanbin tried so hard to make tonight a good night and it had started out so well. He had gotten off work at the university early, rushing through cleaning up the brushes and paint splatters of the day and stopped by the grocery store on the way home. He’d bought Jiwon’s favorite kimchi and some good meat, even splurging on a pricier bottle of wine. He’d cooked and cleaned up their messy apartment, thrown open the windows and filled a vase with flowers to put on the table. With some good luck and good timing he had dinner on the table just before Jiwon had walked in.

His eyes had widened in surprise, little lines crinkling into the creases of his eyelids. He had looked happy, ecstatic even, his eyes gleaming and lips splitting open into his crooked grin. He had grabbed Hanbin in his arms, fingers light against his back like butterflies and kissed him hard and Hanbin had smiled back into the kiss. When they’d pulled apart Jiwon had cupped Hanbin’s face in his long slender fingers and stared hard into his eyes and asked

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

And even though they’ve been dating for three years Jiwon could still make Hanbin’s stomach flip like the first day he’d seen him so he’d shrugged and kissed him again as a reply, letting himself relax into the embrace. After they finally broke apart they sat and ate and finished their bottle of wine and Jiwon had told Hanbin about his day at work, how one of the producers he’d sent his music into had emailed him back saying he was interested and Hanbin had smiled and laughed and listened. It had all been good till it wasn’t (and that’s always was with Jiwon, it was either so good or it was so bad) and now they’re fighting again and Hanbin’s exhausted of the fighting, the fighting and shouting and the angry words they throw like knives at each other.

Jiwon is standing across the room every line of his body tense and silent and Hanbin tries to remember when their love didn’t feel like this. Tries to remember when they smiled at each other more then frowned and Hanbin looked forward to coming home at the end of the day. The memories are there but they seem so far away, tinted pink by new love and innocent hearts and the gentling haze of nostalgia. Jiwon’s voice cuts through his faraway thoughts and pulls him back to their apartment and their love that’s slowly falling apart. Hanbin sometimes thinks the problem is they know each other to well, and they know all the tender places on each other where it will hurt the worst to jab and it’s slowly tearing them apart.

“Are you even listening to me Hanbin?”

Hanbin shakes his head wearily, pushing the cobwebs to the edges of his mind.

“Yes, yes I am Jiwon.”

“So you understand why we can’t move to the U.S. then?”

And this is the crux of the matter, this is what they’ve been circling for the past month and a half.

“Jiwon I understand, but it will only be a year okay? Just one year and then we can come back. You know how important my art is to me.”

Jiwon shakes his head, “I get it Hanbin, but you know why I can’t go! I finally got producers interested in my music, things are finally picking up and I can’t afford to leave right now. I need this Hanbin, don’t you understand that?”

And Hanbin almost tells Jiwon how many times ‘things are finally picking up for him’, how many times he thinks he’s made it, and that sometimes he thinks Jiwon’s chosen an impossible dream. But that’s too cruel even for this fight, and there are some lines Hanbin will never cross so he doesn’t say that.

“Look, America has a huge music industry! You don’t have to give up, it could even be good for you to get into a new scene! If I don’t take this scholarship now Jiwon they’ll give it to somebody else, I probably won’t get this chance again ever.”

And even as he says the words Hanbin can see the stubborn tilt to Jiwon’s chin, see’s the look in his eyes and he knows he isn’t going to win this argument. Sometimes he wonders why he even tries. And Hanbin is tired, he feels exhaustion in his bones like an ache and all he wants to do is sleep and forget about this, and when he speaks again his voice is so quiet he wonders if Jiwon will even hear it.

“Please, Jiwon. For me.”

And for a second Jiwon’s eyes waver, for a second he looks hesitant. The words hang in the air between them and Jiwon shifts and looks at Hanbin, really looks at him for what feels like the first time in a while and his mouth opens and Hanbin is holding his breath because maybe finally Jiwon will bend before he breaks, but then the moment shatters and Jiwon’s face hardens again and Hanbin knows the argument is over.

“Look, it’s obvious neither of us are going to change our minds about this tonight. I’m going out.”

And Hanbin already knows how this will go. Jiwon will go out, get hammered and crash at Junhoe or Donghyuk’s place and won’t stumble back to their apartment till late afternoon the next day but he asks anyways (because he’s naïve, because he wants so badly to believe they might still have what they once did)

“When will you be home?”

Jiwon just pulls on his jacket, not looking at Hanbin.

Hanbin sighs, “At least text me, okay?”

Jiwon nods at him and Hanbin can see that he won’t. Then he’s walking out the door and even though Hanbin knows he’ll be back something seems so final about the moment. The door starts to swing shut and all he can see is Jiwon’s back and he doesn’t know why but he calls out.

“I love you,”

And it sounds almost like a question. Jiwon’s reply is quiet.

“I know.” And then the door slams shut and Hanbin is left in the empty apartment with empty dreams.

And suddenly he’s so angry, because this is so like Jiwon to run away when things get hard. And sometimes he feels like Jiwon always wins, Jiwon decided to move in together, Jiwon chose their apartment, Jiwon chose everything and Hanbin always follows. Hanbin always say yes and he’s so tired of saying yes, so tired of being dragged along. He looks around their home (it feels cold and dark and lonely even when Jiwon is there) and wonders where things went so wrong. He lets himself be angry for a second, lets the fear and frustration and everything wash through him and closes his eyes tight, grips the back of his chair so tight he feels the wood creak in his fist. When he opens them he isn’t angry anymore (he’s just exhausted). He sighs, scrubs at his eyes, and starts the dishes from a dinner that was meant to make things better again and just made things worse.

Later that night he’s laying in bed, trying to sleep but all he can think about is Jiwon out at some bar, about how he’s going to lose the biggest opportunity he’s ever been offered. Thinks about a plane ticket he already bought sitting hidden in the pages of an old worn textbook Jiwon would never even look at on his bedside table. This scholarship only goes to one or two students a year, the opportunity to study the art form of your choice at Columbia and an exhibition at a gallery in New York at the end. It’s a once in a life-time chance and Hanbin knows it. He still loves Jiwon, truly does but he’s done with putting himself second. He’s not going to give up on this. And something shifts inside him, and as he lays in the dark and quiet he makes a decision.  

He throws off his sheets and gets up, breath catching in his throat. Walking to the closet he pulls down his suitcase and throws it open on the bed. Before he really knows what he’s doing he’s pulling clothes out of his wardrobe and tossing them in the bag. Half an hour later he sits in front of a packed suitcase and his chest is tight with excitement. He casts a glance around the small room and his eyes land on the photo that stands on his bedside table. It’s him and Jiwon, standing arms wrapped around each other. He’s staring at Jiwon in the picture, smiling and unaware (and it hurts to see how in love he looks) but Jiwon’s eyes are locked on the camera, stare dark and sharp like he’s looking through the picture to whoever’s looking at the photograph. And maybe that’s always just how their relationship has worked, Hanbin happy with what they had now and Jiwon always hungry for the future. He picks it up, fingers tracing the way their bodies fit together and smiles wistfully at the way they still look so happy. He almost packs it, but he thinks about Jiwon’s back standing cold and aloof in their doorway and he puts it back on the table.

The next morning he wakes up and for a second he’s confused by the suitcase standing by his bed, and then everything rushes back and it’s like an electric shock. He’s up and dressed in record time, throwing last minute items into a backpack. Hopefully he can get Jinhwan to send him anything he forgets. He thinks about Jiwon coming back to their empty apartment and he feels a little guilty but then he thinks about New York and the bright lights he sees when he closes his eyes burn away any last vestiges of doubt. He writes a letter to Jiwon, and when he’s finished he slips his key in between the folds, tucks it under the empty vase on their kitchen table. He stands by the door and gives a last look to the room where he and Jiwon loved and lost and fought and picked up each others pieces and it hurts a little. But he slips his hand into his pocket and the plane ticket in his pocket feels like a fresh start. He turns and switches off the lights and when he leaves he doesn’t look back.