"I'm in need of something functional." Jongin announces as the chalk between his fingers taps and scratches against the board.


"I mean, the calculation is something theoretical and we could always substitute any constant into the unknown." His glasses slide down to the bridge of his nose as the numbers dance around his head, he could see the machine and rotor functioning behind those digits.


"And we can fight the probability, ChanYeol, we can." He is definite in his tone and he underlines his final answer. Jongin turns around to see Chanyeol who looks equally deep as he is in this matter.


The glassed engineer in his suit and tousled hair is named Jongin, this is him right now as he stands in front of the discussion room with no one else other than his colleague-slash-senior, Park Chanyeol.


"I hope your calculations will bring us joy this time." We need this machine to gain advantage in this war; these words were unsaid but Jongin had known Chanyeol long enough to read between the lines. These words were bold, if it had a colour, it would be in violent stark red.


“This is why I am here, right?" The taller man produces a saccharine smile for a moment before falling deep into a sigh, eyes trailing to their side to eye the giant warehouse. Even from the third floor they could see men in white running in and out of that place, loud orders echoed for everyone in this compound to hear. A distinct tone of superiority.


"We can't depend on those white men forever.” His senior stands up, fishing out a tobacco box that he managed to forego moments earlier because Jongin had forcefully pulled the latter into this room so he could sit down to listen to his rambling on aerodynamic designs and calculations of force and speed.



"About the guns and all, I will take care of 'em."

You can count on me; another set of those underlying words and that is all that Jongin needs between him and
Chanyeol in order to make this plan work, in order to bring glory to their nation. Jongin nods his head and steals a cigarette from Chanyeol’s box and the latter says nothing as they smoke in the room while somewhere in between puffing out chemicals and fogging the room in joint swirls, Jongin has to stop thinking about how nice it would be to have Chanyeol supporting his ideas forever.



Jongin and Chanyeol stands in an open land, hats on their head as the sun glares down at them brightly. The pilot signals both of them that he is ready to take off, ready to show the product of those sleepless nights. The duo nods their heads.

It’s ing exhilarating yet petrifying at the same time of how the countless and sleepless nights will be dictated today, in this moment. The sound of his effort groans and the motor rotates, slowly his dreams began to roar in motion. In constant velocity, the winged machine is brought to life along with his heart.

Chanyeol and Jongin's footsteps synchronized in time as they ran and followed after the plane. For Jongin, the calculation of magnitude and velocity constantly danced in his head. The constant value of gravity remains 9.81, seems to have changed and Jongin could not move anymore. It happens when the plane glides towards the sky and the smile on Jongin's face could rival the sun, his creation is flying, becoming one with the wind.


But the sound of familiarity resounds in the open air; an explosion has occurred, yet again. Setting fire to the heart within him as it defies gravity and plummets to the ground, along with his expectations, along with everything he's worked through sleepless nights and bloodshot eyes.


His face shatters. Furiously the plane jitters on a spot, hanging in the air and beyond seconds the plane decelerates harshly down to meet the ground just not far from where he stands, where they stood. He sighs in relief when he sees the pilot's parachute expands in the air. At least his machine has not killed any army man, yet.

This marks his #10 failure, his tenth unworking ways.


He runs towards the pilot thanking the man that had almost been sacrificed and you have worked hard as a substitute to I'm sorry, I have failed again. But the pilot, Minseok smiles at him, it's enough to keep him going because the army man had once said that finally, we are catching up with the European countries though Chanyeol had once said with a cigarette hanging between his lips, "we are using bulls to carry our parts, that is how late we are, almost 10 years apart."


"We need to catch up, Jongin. We can't be poor forever and depend on those white people."

That night, Jongin stops by a shop and takes home with him the usual sponge cake back to his room. The papers on his table pretty much will all be tranfered into the trashcan again; the shirts and papers around his floor soon will join their respective bins. A cycle in the making.


Chanyeol wouldn't even bother to knock on his door, barging in with his cigarette between his lips and packs of cheer up Jongin beers in his hands. Like a routine, he will sit on the bed beside Jongin, without a word as he all but smoke the night away and sometimes he will take the leverage on tuning on the radio humming along to the French songs that goes with his mood. It's ironic how Chanyeol listens to french songs.


But there was a night when Chanyeol had breached what Jongin deemed to be his comfort zone and pulled the younger man into his arms, rubbing his back. Jongin's creation had soared in the sky, with the wind and it had looked so magnificent that had brought all the evaluators to put their hands in unity. But the moment the plane exploded, the resounding noise of a broken dream painted their faces in horror and fright. The wing met the ground and the pilot almost missed the chance to survive if he had pulled the string a bit too late.


There had been a night when he had stayed up with Jongin, debating on the designs and calculations that had both of them passing out as soon as ramen became their breakfast. Chanyeol promised that the next time if they have to do calculations again, it will be in their room, more spacious he said.


"Germany." Chanyeol announces after slurping his ramen’s broth.

"We are going there to look at the Germany creations and emulate theirs as ours." Jongin nods with a weak smile directed at his half empty can of beer. He could not stop thinking about his fighting plane that would not even fly above 400 meters in the air.

Chanyeol's long fingers meets Jongin's tousled hair and he ruffles it in comfort. "Be like Edison, find 10,000 ways that won't work."


The trip to Germany was neither gleeful nor somber because Jongin and Chanyeol realized that their effort needs to be more than what they have inputted prior to this. If they had given a 500 percent, it would have been greater than that. He remembered walking into the fighting plane depot of those Germans with awe etched across his features but only to be harshly reprimanded by a stoic man who yells in German:This is the Germany's property! You are not allowed in here! But Chanyeol whom was in his radius came and equally strident on yanking the white man’s hand off from Jongin’s coat. We have been given permission by your upper-hands, don’t go around and think we are just intruders just because we are Asians. Thankfully, the commando behind Chanyeol ordered the soldier to back away from both of them and Chanyeol who knows conversational German rolled his eyes when Jongin who got the idea that the army man cursed at both of them.



“This is why we can’t depend on whites forever, or ever.” ChanYeol soughed.

Later when the sun sets, Chanyeol happily took Jongin’s hand and led him out of their hotel down to the nearest pub where the both of them were greeted with the sight of several soldiers out drinking and laughing joyously; some of them even brawled over their masculinity. The jazz singer's voice fills in with the loud soldiers and Jongin thinks, honestly, if he could understand German fluently like Chanyeol, he would have enjoyed the performance more.



“Hitler doesn’t like smoking so I’m just gonna tame my hands down and not smoke tonight.” This had Jongin laughing and he blends with the happy crowd. He realized way before now that he had come to love Chanyeol who is always there for him in through thick and thin.


"Doctor," Chanyeol said while he takes another sip of his beer. This had Jongin looking up from watching the dancing couple on the stage. "My fiancée, her parents were thrilled on how ideal we are and to marry a working woman, this is beyond my imagination." He says in Korean, ignoring the German’s eyes that seemed to have noticed them.


But Jongin immediately feels dead within. He had forgotten for a moment there, that Chanyeol is never going to love a man, a man like him who loves another man romantically. He had forgotten that Chanyeol had told him he was going to meet his future wife two days before leaving for Germany, he remembered how he had forgotten. It’s by taking another engineer home, Sehun. him against Jongin's covers, they both knew this had to be a first and last.


The night Jongin's creation became one with the wind, rising and flying against the wind current is the night when Jongin learns how bitter a heartbreak is. It is when Chanyeol stares at him in horror as soon their lips meet in Jongin's messy room and Jongin knew, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have been bold— He does not know what to blame— Even intoxication was a lousy excuse. One thing is for sure, Jongin had learnt that it does not feel the same way as to when he saw his creations crash and burn , plummet harshly to meet earth instead it feels even worse. If the plane is truly his heart then he could see the saddened eyes at the tragedy.


If the plane explosion meant horror and so that is what his heart knows. A plane of his creation does not shatter as whole but his heart does, his heart breaks into tiny pieces.

Things around here don't explode in bright colours, there were no fireworks for there were no celebration, Jongin once said. It resembles his failure in the sky. Black and ashes all around.


The destroyed planes and compartments meant nothing now. No formulas nor equations could figure a way to solve his distorted heart. No new blueprints could mend the now darkened feelings. Chanyeol had looked so scandalized because he had learned that the man who creates mass production of fighting planes were into men, into him, into Chanyeol. When Chanyeol took a step forward Jongin hurriedly grabbed onto his shirt, begging him, please don't. But Chanyeol looked borderline nauseated brushed him off. He slammed Jongin’s door shut on his way out and Jongin could hear hurried footsteps before another loud slamming of the door followed.

Jongin feels defunct on the inside. He should've known better than to kiss a person's fiancee that he bears feeling for.
He wonders if for once, Chanyeol would have propagated feelings for him instead for a girl that his parents had arranged for him to meet. But Jongin should have not committed the act, he feels thoroughly disgusted with himself.



The next day, their short boss, Joonmyun obviously noticed the stagnant air between them but he had no choice but to announce a bad news as so he said.

"Jongin has been chosen to Busan, the upperhands thinks it is better that the creator himself supervise the models made there and Chanyeol could stay assuming you know a lot about Jongin's model."


”We can work on your model too." He really hopes that Chanyeol's model will bring additional force to the nation, too.


Jongin turns to his side to see Chanyeol looking down at him with lifeless pair of eyes. Jongin takes his hand and he feels Chanyeol’s whole being jolt into action, Jongin has already expected that. “You would do just great.”


Chanyeol is not there when the workers are sending him at the train station, he doesn't question why either.


The next time they meet is when Chanyeol and Jongin shared their grief upon their nation's defeat and both of them had looked at their own creations that had already met the ground long before they had reached, motionless as they are.

"Not all glory last forever but we work hard didn't we." Chanyeol offers comfort in his tone.

"War kills many, including my faith in what I do." Chanyeol offers a small smile
and ruffles Jongin hair, like good old times. "A good man will come along and restore your faith but it'll not be me."


”Aware of that.”

“But you are good friend of mine; we will be like this forever, yeah?"

"Forever is good." Though he really wished that, for once, Chanyeol is his and not married to a woman already.


Months later, the reports of the father of the nation’s fighting airplanes had committed suicide in his own apartment. The report left vague but had still been all over the papers, radios and any other mass media that could possibly report the tragedy. The Great Devastation had affected the country in and out. Left the smartest man who aided the nation’s fighting force susceptible. They think it was the nation’s defeat that had drove him away, but the actual cause to this hero's destruction was heartbreak of finding no one to love.