"Kenzo."

It was a hushed type of whisper. The kind that barely escapes the hidden cracks of forbidden lips. Jongdae had uttered softly as the engine of the car came to a stop. Jongin turned to look at him with puzzlement. 

"What?"

"Kenzo," he breathed again. His voice was slurred and sleepy. Rubbing his tired eyes, he offered an explaining smile. "My first love."

Jongin and Jongdae sat in silence for awhile. Parked on the top floor of the parking structure of their apartment building, 11:19 p.m clicked on to the screen of the old radio. Jongin leaned back into the antiqued but comforting cushion of his seat. Jongdae pulled his knees to his chest and quietly rocked back and forth.

"I thought he was the one too," Jongdae hushed. Jongin gave a small chuckle.

"I guess we all think that in high school. What ignorance," Jongin tried to coax the jarring words out his mouth with no harshness, but even the letters linked together created an edge.

"I suppose, but he was truly charming,"Jongdae cast his brown eyes down, his face hiding behind a wistful turn of the lips. "It just didn't work out."

"Why?" Jongin eased. He didn't want to push Jongdae, not wishing more sadness upon him.

"I just wasn't what he wanted. But it's okay, I'm over it. It happened, I cried for awhile, but it's done," Jongdae brushed the subject off as he opened the car door and climbed out. Jongin followed him, down the creaky stairs to their apartment. Large windows overlooked monumental buildings and chilled skyscrapers that softly cut the surface of the violent hazy sky. Tailing moderately behind Jongdae's unusual hasty footsteps causing echoes of paced worries to erupt in result, he wondered how much this first love of Jongdae's really meant to him.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Jongin examined Jongdae's frazzled state as he briskly went to the kitchen. Following him, Jongin watched as Jongdae violently forced out four red pills from an Advil bottle that glared from his sweaty palm with raged agitation and rushed tap water into a glass. 

"Jongdae.." Jongin started and out of nowhere, Jongdae fiercely slammed the innocent glass of water down on the counter and threw the red pills on the ground with such intensity that they bounced. Drops of water splashed all over the floor and to Jongin, it seemed that so did parts of Jongdae. Tiny pieces and scraps of sadness burst onto the chilly linoleum underneath their bare feet. Mixed with with fragments of broken hearts that beat brutal crimson, painful tears began to spill unobtrusively down his ivory cheeks.

"No..I'm not alright," he sniffled softly as he turned his back to Jongin. He saw his thin navy sweatshirt hunch over his petite and acute shoulder blades. The beaming angel that used to stand confidently in front of him, was now faltered, burned on the edges. His wings were damaged, the feathers dampened with wailing sorrow. Going over to him, he rubbed an affectionate hand on his shoulders that were shivering, in the late night 80 degree weather. Jongin hoped that Jongdae could gain the message he was trying to say through.

It'll be okay.

And that was the end of that. Throughout the years to come, Kenzo, was dead to them. He was never spoken of, not even through the hidden cracks of forbidden lips. Images, memories and the irregular mindnight thoughts of Ticklemonster and Kenzo, were thrown out the window to the sky. Jongdae smiled happy smiles and Jongin wouldn't dare to ask, because he understood, he knew. From the frustrated sobs and tears that ran down his high cheekbones that day. it had plainly spoke, Kenzo had hammered Jongdae's heart into pieces. Laborious to reshape and mine him to what Jongdae was not, Jongdae was pulversized and eventually shattered. Kenzo refused to catch a lively glimpse of who Jongdae truly was. So much better than the person he was trying to create him as. Jongdae was a sparkling ray of sunshine. The ray of the sun that came out only when the introductions of annual March are made and the sun had the permission to stay until the 7 p.m.s of day. It was the most beautiful type. Jongdae was not perfection, just stringed together pieces of joyous grins, sugar coated caramel hair, and of course, the occasional negative memory. Even someone as enthusiastic about life like Jongdae needed to fathom the passive feelings of sadness. Without it, he wouldn't know and appreciate happiness. Kenzo was nice, but he didn't understand that something finer than what he desired, was standing patiently waiting for him. He would give pieces and left overs of romance to Jongdae, scraps of it. But still, Jongdae clung to them hungrily. Jongdae would have lingered at the lonesomeness for the abundance, the full package, of his love forever, but Kenzo was the one who chose to walk away. Kenzo, what was he? 

He was past. 

_______

 

After the incident of Kenzo, Jongdae smiled more, he seemed more happy. Jongin thought it was because of the letting go of the turmoil he had been holding in for so long, but it was a mixture of two things. The other ingredient to his brighter more jubilant, was a human named Allyson whose russet hair smelled of tomorrows and warm cinnamon. Her perky personality considering the "Save the Gunnison Sage-Grouse" rallies and quirky smiles made Jongdae grin in reply. She was a second year, and extremely smart. Getting into the college with a full scholarship and a GPA of 4.2, she was equipped with her daring personality and confident attitude. It was not a superficial wonder why Jongdae would have fallen head over heels upon the cinnamon scented beauty as they both once upon a timely grabbed for the same yogurt drink 'Strawberry Mango Surprise' in the college cafeteria as Jongdae had told the story one hundred and fifty two times. The essence of sugary sweet terribly missed autumn brushed against his shoulder as he reached for the drink. Her almond shaped eyes looked at him with concordance and an alluring sense of possibility. Jongdae also added, he was wearing his lucky boxers that day, the green ones with beer bottles on them that he had gotten as a gift from a cousin two Christmases ago. When he arrived to the apartment, he quickly told the story and lifted the waistband of the boxers to reveal green and the tip of an overflowing Heineken bottle. They had began talking after that. She was majoring in Art History as well, and they looked great together. 

The first time Jongin met Allyson, he could already feel the knots forming in his stomach. She was perfect for Jongdae, as much as it pained him to admit. The complement of the two new foundly love birds made Jongin sick to his stomach, but at the same time, a despairing happiness for the two. Jongdae smiled wider, his mood always upbeat, it annoyed the out of Jongin, but made him smile dismal smiles back. 

_______

The rollarcoaster of blossoming romance just went uphill for Allyson and Jongdae as they spent their afternoons picking up trash from local beaches, disovering hidden and hole in the wall coffee shops where they sat on the outdoor patios with different mugs such as a smiling Cheshire Cat and a laughing Goofy, and laying together of Jongdae's bed, hands intertwined as they whispered conversations to each other. Their love was simple but complex at the same time. Each time Jongin would arrive home to find the loving couple on the couch cuddled together watching sitcoms, he could feel the uneven surges of envy swimming throughout the ends of body. 

_______

Without Jongdae to hang out with anymore, he felt quite alone. He would sit in bed throwing the necklace the old man gave him in the air. As he threw it in the air, it would catch the laughter and smiles that were occuring in the room next to him. When it landed in his palm, he felt the pessimistic strain hit the lines of it. He watched the crimson line tumble in different directions, until the force of gravity brought it back down. The names inscripted and "Connected by the remarkable red thread" taunted Jongin as he eventually tossed the golden chain on the ground and tried to forget about it. 

The month of November was long, 14, 15, 16, passed with a hurtful blur. Days were routine, as Jongin was alone, just like before he had met Jongdae. 

_______

Thanksgiving was a lonely mess. Jongin had declined an invite from Allyson and her grin to her family's Thanksgiving dinner in Texas. He knew she was tryig to be polite, not wanting him to go. He just offered the saddest smile he could muster and lied saying he had a lot of studying to do. And just like that with a pat on the back and a simple goodbye, Jongdae was gone for a few days. Jongin couldn't eat, he had no appetite. He attempted to flip through diagrams of studying but his thoughts maybe after five minutes of pretending to study, would drift to Jongdae and Allyson. How the drafts of homemade turkey and the rich sensational of cranberry sauce to enlighten the dryness of the meat. Mashed potatos drizzled with gravy and the occasional spoonful of string beans and canary yellow corn. His stomach growled in response.

Holding onto it, he managed to drive to the nearest 7-11. The cheap flourescent lights shone brightly and harshly into Jongin's eyes as he had stayed in his room for the past two days. He walked to the freezer and grabbed a Lunchables, the ones with turkey and Ritz crackers. He then took a bottle of cheap red wine that felt weightless in his hands. Lastly, he reached for a box of Twinkies.

Dawdling back to his car, he sat in his seat, exhaling a large breath of air he didn't realize he was holding in. He first opened the Lunchables, ripping the cardboard, throwing the shreds of it to the passenger seat. The seat Jongdae sat in as they chatted about their lost childhoods. Biting viciously into the artificial turkey, he stuffed the Ritz crackers into his mouth. Salt rode into the corners of his lips and he forgot to breathe. He crammed the overjoyed cheddar in next, gagging down the imitation. He popped the cork out of the wine bottle, and tossed it out the passenger window. The one where Jongdae had gazed out of while they drove smoothly along the highway, wind rushing into this caramel hair. Drowning the contents down with the sweet sugary wine, he finished the bottle all too quickly. Drips of the irrelevance tore its way down Jongin's ragged gray shirt. With frustration, he threw the bottle out the window as well, causing a dramatic crash on the gloomy pavement. The bottle shattered to pieces instantly and the stronger base rolled its way down to who knows where. Unfastening the cheap hold on the plastic bag of sweetend Twinkies, he savagely squeezed two of them at once into his dry mouth. The overload of tangy sweetness took over his senses and he wiped away tears he didn't realize were coming out. Puddles of his sadness stained his black sweatpants. 

Jongin continued to sob, pathetically in the deserted 7-11 parking lot. The flickering of the rude lights towering the convenience store shouted at Jongin to leave. Refusing to listen, he persisted his bawling. Windows open, his ear-splitting howls could have easily been heard, but the neighbors rejected to hear him out. The story of how a boy loved a boy, but didn't have a happy ending. The people were only all ears to the happily ever after of reality, not observing the rest of the tale. Jongin gripped his pounding chest, and tried desperately to make it cease its hurting. But it continued to pain.

And that day, Thanksgiving of 2011 at 10:34 p.m, Jongin threw away his dignity, out the passener window, where Jongdae had looked out from and sat comfortably, oblivious to the pain he was causing the person he was sitting a few inches away from.