p a r t  II ; 

Touchdown. Donghae arrived at Gangwon Do at seven that evening. He reached for the paper in his wallet at read the address, contemplating whether or not to go to Hyukjae’s family’s house right then, or wait till the next morning.

He booked himself a room in a nearby hotel, deciding to go with the latter.

“What do I do?” Donghae asked himself aloud as he changed into a pair of pyjamas later that night. He stared at the wads of cash hidden underneath a jacket in his suitcase and wondered how he’d made it past customs no questions asked. Only then did he realise that talking to Hyukjae about their escape plans was easy, but actually executing them? Donghae felt a pang of guilt mixed with pain in his chest, and he worried his lip thinking of what was to come. How was he supposed to turn up unannounced at Hyukjae’s home and break the news that he’d been caught for robbing? What if his family threw him out?

He folded the pair of jeans he’d changed out of and frowned upon feeling something in its pocket. Stuffing his hand into its pocket, Donghae retrieved some sort of red velvet box. He stared at it, puzzled, before opening it. A ring? He thought quizzically. I don’t remember stealing this. Did Hyukjae give this to me? Why would he? Maybe I did steal it. But what if it was Hyukjae that handed this to me, and that maybe I just can’t remember because I was flustered running out the house?

You’re overthinking again, he said to himself, frowning. There’s no point thinking of all the what-ifs, Donghae. He slipped the ring on, hoping it’d bring him sort of luck. He stood up and switched the lights off. Ignoring his heavy heart, he climbed into bed and sighed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Then he sighed again as he to his side, slipping into slumber.

The following morning came in the form of a ray of sunlight peeping through a crack in the bedroom curtain. Donghae tossed in bed one last time before pushing himself up on his elbows. He willed himself to get out of bed to take a quick shower, nicking the bottles of shampoo and body wash on the way out, tossing them into his suitcase. Ah, my kleptomaniac tendencies are still here, he said as he continued nicking small items off the bedroom dresser. Dressed in a black t-shirt and navy blue jeans, Donghae made his way out the hotel trying to figure out how he’d get to Hyukjae’s home, considering that he’d never been to Gangwon Do before.

“90-7 Soyangro2-ga, Chuncheon,” Donghae said as he climbed into the back of a taxi. The driver nodded in acknowledgment, stepping on the gas pedal. Several traffic lights later, he attempted small talk.

“Going home?” The driver asked, taking a peek at his passenger through the rear view mirror. Donghae shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” he answered softly. “I guess you could say that.”

“You don’t sound like you’re from around here,” the driver remarked, laughing a little to brighten the atmosphere. Donghae smiled faintly.

“Must’ve been in Seoul for too long,” he said in reply, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I was, uh, there for school.”

“Ah, I’ve driven many kids like you home from the airport and all of them say the same thing when I tell them they’ve lost their Gangwon Do accent,” the driver said, smiling. Donghae smiled back, desperately wanting to sit the rest of his commute in silence. He was exhausted from all of the  last minute traveling, and all he wanted to do, was to rest, maybe sleep even. I’m glad he bought into my excuse, he thought to himself. Considering I’m almost thirty. He tried to catch some shut eye, leaning against the the head rest.

“Donghae,” Hyukjae called from the living room. Donghae powdered his face, rubbing the white dust into his skin before making his way to where his lover was. Hyukjae was sat on the couch, beckoning for Donghae to come over with his hand. Walking over gingerly, Donghae’s eyes followed the direction of Hyukjae’s arm, pointing at the television. Onscreen sat a news anchor behind a large desk.

“Two robbers, Lee Hyukjae and Lee Donghae, have been on the run since a major heist in Dongdaemun, Seoul. The pair robbed 167,913,000₩ worth of money before making a run for it. Police have been on the hunt for these fugitives since Tuesday.” The news anchor paused to rearrange a stack of papers on his desk as an image of Hyukjae and Donghae appeared onscreen. “If you have spotted either of the fugitives, please call the police hotline or head straight to a police station to make a report.”

“Donghae,” Hyukjae called, grabbing Donghae by the shoulders. “We need to get out of here. We need to get out of here right now.”

Donghae’s heart began to race.

“F-,” was all he could manage to say.

Donghae and Hyukjae raced into the room. Hyukjae grabbed the silver suitcase filled with cash, deciding that there was no need for them to pack any clothing considering they would be on the run. Donghae watched.

“Let’s go,” Hyukjae said firmly, grabbing Donghae by the hand. They left the bedroom hastily, but as soon as they set foot in the living room, the main door got kicked down and in came a SWAT team of ten officers with shields and rifles strapped to their chests.

Hyukjae drew his glock instinctively, pointing at the team, trembling. He’d pushed the silver briefcase into Donghae’s arms. Donghae watched nervously, frozen in his stance.

“Put the gun down,” an officer, presumably the team leader, warned. “Put the gun down and surrender, and no one will get hurt.”

Hyukjae refused, pointing at the officers from left to right. He didn’t say a word, for he thought it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. It’s not like saying anything would make the SWAT team march out the door and leave them alone. Someone needed to shoot first, and Hyukjae contemplated doing it, but his fear of getting shot or even killed held him back.

On the other hand, Donghae watched as the silent exchange played out in front of him. He wanted to reached into his jacket for his glock but he knew any suspicious movement would warrant the team to begin firing at them.

“Take this,” Donghae said, tossing the silver briefcase forward before raising his hands in the air. He figured surrendering would be the best option at this point.

Hyukjae thought otherwise.

The scene played out in front of Donghae like a clip in slow motion. Hyukjae fired a shot, aiming it at the leader of the team, but the bullet ricocheted off his shield. He fired back, and—

“Hyukjae, NO!”

Donghae tackled Hyukjae onto the ground, but it was too late. The bullet shot Hyukjae right in the chest, and Donghae watched as Hyukjae’s soul left him, his eyes wide open and blood pouring out of his mouth.

His limp body lay on the ground, a pool of blood forming around his torso. He was dead.

Donghae stood up, livid, drawing his glock.

“YOU MOTHERERS!” He yelled as he began to fire shots at the team. All of his shots ricocheted off the team’s shields. An officer aimed right at Donghae and fired, his shot hitting the target like a dart hitting bullseye.

“H-hyuk,” Donghae called out, falling onto the floor next to his lover. Images ran by him—of his most fond memories, of him and Hyukjae. Donghae stared right at Hyukjae’s cold face, and soon, everything faded—

“Sir.”

—to black.

“Sir, wake up.”

Donghae jolted awake, a single tear rolling down his face. His heart hurt as he vaguely remembered scenes from his little nightmare. He bunched up the fabric on his chest and bit his lip, forcing himself not to cry.

“We’re here,” the driver said, smiling softly at him. He must’ve seen the tears staining Donghae’s cheek.

The driver got out of the taxi to help Donghae pull his luggage out of the boot. As soon as the suitcase hit the ground, the driver patted Donghae on the back, a fatherly smile washed over his face.

“Have a good day, young man. It’ll be fine,” he wished aloud. Donghae smiled weakly, wiping tears off his face. Will it, really? The driver rubbed Donghae’s back reassuringly before returning to his seat, driving off and leaving Donghae on the roadside with a heart that felt like it’d been stabbed with a pitchfork.

Donghae looked around, once more wiping the never ending tears that spilled over his lower lids. He didn’t know why he was crying, to be honest. He knew it was a dream, a nightmare at best, but it still scared him how that could’ve been the way things panned out. The thought of not knowing where or how Hyukjae was coping at this very moment hurt him. No snitching, he recalled Hyukjae saying. If one of us goes to jail, the other isn’t allowed to visit. Head straight home in Gangwon Do. Got it? Donghae shuddered. Got it, he’d said in advance, though he wished he hadn’t. He trudged in search of a house—Hyukjae’s family home—suitcase in tow. He didn’t know where it was; everything felt hazy and confusing to him. His head and heart contested for which felt more hurt. How did he get himself in this predicament? Nothing made sense anymore.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Hyukjae felt the cold metal of a pair of handcuffs wrap around his wrists, an audible click punctuating the end of his arrest, at least for now. He knew that the next few days would be hard and he prayed hard that they’d never be able to trace Donghae. He reminded himself not to say a word about having an accomplice; not to snitch, ever, and as the police escorted him to a waiting cell, he wondered if Donghae had gotten to his hometown by now.

“What crime are you confessing to have committed?” asked an investigations officer several hours later, sitting across from Hyukjae.

“Robbing. Shooting.”

“Oh?” The officer began to scribble onto a clipboard. Hyukjae squinted, trying to make out what the officer had written but to no avail. “Tell me more about the robbing.”

Hyukjae shifted in his seat, taking a glimpse at the two-way mirror to his left. He figured he didn’t have to reveal anything about the past five heists, considering there was a possibility they wouldn’t link him to any of them. How was he, a sole robber, supposed to carry out a bank heist on his own anyway? It wouldn’t make sense, especially since he wouldn’t, he swore to god, snitch on Donghae. It was a risk, but he decided only to talk about the jewellery store robbery.

“I robbed a jewellery store,” he said calmly. “I robbed a jewellery store called Grafik Plastic, or something like that.”

The officer glanced at him as she scribbled. “How did you do it?”

“Broke into a car. Drove to the venue. Shot the place up with a balaclava and gloves on.”

“Okay.” The officer looked up, placing her pen next to the clipboard. “Now tell me, how did you plan it? Was this premeditated?”

Obviously, dumb.

“I planned it months in advance. I planned which car to break into, what time to rob the place and how to escape.” Hyukjae glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 11:30 AM. I hope Donghae found the house. “I broke into a grey sedan. Turns out it belonged to the man working at the jewellery store.”

“And how did you know which car to use for the robbery?”

“I observed the cars in the car park and—”

“Which car park?”

“Hyeya-ro,” Hyukjae answered hastily. “I observed a few cars on the fourth floor of a car park in Hyeya-ro. Figured the man who owned the grey car doesn’t use it on Thursdays, so that’s why I executed the robbery on a Thursday.”

“How did you break into the car?” the officer asked, frowning.

Hyukjae rolled his eyes. Do I really hope have to tell you how I do it.  “Picked its lock.” He refused to let on anymore information.

“Tell me what happened when you got to the jewellery store.”

Hyukjae tried his best to remember the order of how Donghae had carried out the plan.

“Drove to the store, stepped into it and shot at the CCTV camera before threatening the sales assistant to empty jewellery cases into a bag. Took flight as soon as he was done.”

“Did you hurt anyone?”

“No. No, I didn’t. Not during the robbery.”

The officer started scribbling more words onto her clipboard. “Tell me about the shooting.”

“I returned to the car park weeks later because I’d forgotten something, when the owner of the grey car confronted me with a knife.”

“And?”

“I shot him. He tried stabbing me, so I shot him. I ran straight after.”

“Alright. We’re going to have to ask you more questions later, after we’ve verified the information you’ve shared with us.” The officer stood up, slipping her pen into a pocket on her coat. She exited the room. In walked a pair of officers who escorted him back to his waiting cell.

“You must be Donghae,” said a small, fair lady with wavy black hair, welcoming Donghae into a small terrace house. Donghae looked around nervously, unsure of what Hyukjae had told her about him. “Make yourself comfortable, Donghae.” The lady, Hyukjae’s mother said, ushering Donghae into the living room of the house. Donghae placed his suitcase next to an armchair and sat in it, pursing his lips.

“I’m here because—”

“I know why you’re here, Donghae.” The lady, Deokboon, said reassuringly, patting Donghae on the shoulder. “Hyukjae told me. He told me everything.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That you’re his partner, and that you’ll be staying here for a while. I know what happened to him, so don’t worry.”

Donghae frowned, pensive. “How did he tell you?”

“He wrote me a letter and sent me a picture of him with you,” Deokboon explained. “He told me about the robberies, and that he’d probably get incarcerated.” Donghae kept mum, listening on. “Honestly, in the beginning, I was upset.”

Did he tell his mother that I helped him with the robberies, or—

“But then I realised why he’d done it. It wasn’t the best way to earn money, but I understand. He was desperate.”

Donghae nodded.

“I know he said not to visit, but I will visit him soon. He can’t stop me,” Deokboon continued. Like mother like son, Donghae thought. Stubborn.

“I can only imagine how you felt after learning about his crimes, Donghae.”

So he didn’t tell her I was his accomplice.

“I was upset too,” Donghae lied, forcing himself to sound like he’d been crying.

“I know. Who wouldn’t be?”

Deokboon urged Donghae to wait for her to make some tea. While she was in the kitchen, Donghae noticed a pair of eyes peeping at him from a crack in a bedroom door.

“Pssst.”

Donghae stared at the pair of eyes staring back at him.

“Pssssst.”

Donghae got off the armchair and walked towards the bedroom gingerly, wondering who it was that had been hissing at him. The pair of eyes disappeared into the darkness, and as soon as Donghae pushed the door open, stood by the bed was a little boy, roughly ten years of age, smiling at him.

“Are you Hyukjae-hyung’s friend? Donghae-hyung?” The little boy asked. Donghae blanked out—who is this boy—and it only later clicked with him that this was Hyukjae’s little brother. The one Hyukjae loved and spoke so fondly of. The one who had cancer.

Donghae stepped forward and crouched next to the boy.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I’m your hyung’s friend. You must be Hyukshin.”

The little boy nodded. “Did my hyung talk to you about me?”

“He did,” Donghae said kindly, “he did. He loves you very much and thinks about you everyday.”

Hyukshin moved back, sitting on his bed and then gesturing for Donghae to sit next to him. Donghae followed through, making himself comfortable.

“I love him too,” Hyukshin said, his voice low and sad. “But I haven’t seen him in years.”

“Years?” Oh yeah, years. I’ve never seen him leave the town in the two years that we’d known each other. “How did you know about me then?”

Hyukshin shrugged. “Eomma told me you’d be coming over, but she didn’t tell me if hyung would be here too. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s at work,” Donghae answered quickly. “He has some things to take care of, but I promise we’ll visit him soon.”

“You promise?” Hyukshin repeated, holding out his pinky. Donghae smiled, holding his pinky out too.

“I promise.”

Just then, Deokboon knocked on the door, interrupting the little moment between the two.

“Tea’s ready, Donghae,” she said affectionately, smiling a smile only a mother figure could. Donghae stood up and raised his hand out, beckoning for Hyukshin to join them. Hyukshin took his hand and followed Donghae out into the living room.

“So Donghae,” Deokboon began after setting her teacup on the table. Donghae sat across her with his teacup raised to his lips, listening attentively to his partner/lover’s mother. On the living room floor, Hyukshin was playing with his toys.

“Tell me about yourself. Where do you live?”

Donghae sipped some tea and smiled.

“I’m from Mokpo,” he replied simply, returning his cup to its plate. “I moved to Seoul for work.”

“Oh, I see,” Deokboon acknowledged, smiling. “Why did Hyukjae send you here, then? Shouldn’t you be visiting your family at home?”

Donghae nodded. “I visit them from time to time. I’m here because Hyukjae wanted me to give you something, and I promised him I’d take care of you and the family.”

Deokboon lolled her head, frowning. “What did he ask you to give to me?”

Donghae glanced at Hyukshin, hoping that the little boy was distracted with his toys. He reached for his suitcase and lay it on its side, ping it. Deokboon watched as Donghae removed several layers of clothing, and when Donghae reached the final clothing; a jacket; Donghae peeled it slowly, revealing thick wads of 50,000₩ bills.

Deokboon gasped. “This…”

“It’s money that Hyukjae wants you to have,” Donghae explained, “to pay for Hyukshin’s chemotherapy.”

Deokboon was in utter shock, nodding vigorously as Donghae picked up his clothing, returning them to the suitcase. Deokboon leaned forward, reaching for Donghae’s hands.

“I can’t accept this, Donghae. It’s wrong.”

“I know, eomonim—”

“Call me eomma, Donghae,” Deokboon corrected, smiling. “Eomma will do.”

Donghae nodded, blushing. It felt odd calling Hyukjae’s mother eomma. It’s not like they were married or anything.

“Eomma, I know you don’t think it’s a good idea because of where the money came from, but Hyukjae asked me to tell you to use it for now, to pay for Hyukshin’s treatment. I’ll help you figure out how else to pay for the rest of his treatment,” Donghae said firmly. “Maybe I’ll work or something, eomma. Don’t worry about it.”

Deokboon sat, mouth agape. “I…I don’t know what to say, Donghae.”

“You don’t have to say anything, eomma.” Donghae reassured, rubbing Deokboon’s hands with his thumbs. “I hope you heed Hyukjae’s instructions, at least for now. We’ll visit him when we can, okay?”

Deokboon smiled. “You’re heaven-sent, Donghae. I’m so happy my son chose you.”

Maybe he does love me, Donghae thought quietly.

“Eomma!” Hyukshin called out, looking up from his toys. “Will Donghae-hyung be staying with us?”

“Yes, Hyukshin. He will.”

“Yay! I have so many things to show you, Donghae-hyung.”

Donghae smiled from Hyukshin to Deokboon; he smiled at his new family, his heart fluttering despite the heavy responsibility Hyukjae had tasked him with.

“I’ll find a job here..” Donghae said, hesitant. “...eomma.”

“You don’t have to help us with our finances, Donghae. You’ve helped us enough,” Deokboon reassured, patting Donghae’s hand with hers.

Donghae was adamant. “I’m still going to find a job just in case. Hyukjae trusted me to take care of Hyukshin and you.”

Deokboon smiled. “I’m not going to nag you against the idea, so do what you have to do, Hae. I hope you pay your own family a visit too.”

“I will.” My family and I are estranged, but let’s pretend I’ll visit them. It’s not like I’m pretending they don’t exist—they threw me out, so who gives a ? Donghae reached for his teacup, sipping his tea. He was glad Deokboon hadn’t sensed his hostility, or the pain dripping from his I will.

The next few days were harder than Donghae thought they’d be.

Donghae had scoured the town, searching for a job but to no avail. He tried everything—dishwasher, baker, sales assistant etc.—but no one was hiring, not at this moment. How was he supposed to earn money to help Hyukjae’s family? He found himself sitting at a cafe some hours later, tapping his fingers on the table anxiously as he thought of what to do. He stared blankly at the latté art on his coffee.

What about a heist, Donghae thought, swirling a spoon in his cup absentmindedly. It was hard convincing himself it was a good idea, considering it was him who wanted out of this lifestyle, and that Hyukjae had always been the mastermind behind their heists. He felt unconfident, and it showed in the way his hands shook as he raised his latté to his lips.

“I miss Hyukjae,” he mumbled to himself before downing some of his latté. He’d grown so accustomed to the lifestyle of relying on heists for money with Hyukjae that he forgot how difficult it was finding a proper job. He should’ve just continued working at the diner in Seoul. He would’ve, if the cops weren’t after him. Were they really? Would they find him in Gangwon Do? Is Hyukjae safe?

Donghae finished his latté and hurried out the door. He walked towards the bus stop, eager to return home.

“So you’re saying this is where you broke into the car?” Investigations officer, Taeyeon, asked.

Hyukjae nodded. “Yup.”

“Talk me through the entire process, of you planning the robbery, starting with how you decided to use this car.”

Hyukjae, with hands cuffed behind his back, sighed audibly. He gestured towards the grey car with a nod.

“I planned this months, exactly five months in advance. I monitored the cars on the fourth floor and figured out which car I could use for the robbery. Noticed a pattern with the grey car. Owner doesn’t use it on Thursdays, so I figured I’d execute the robbery while he was gone.”

Taeyeon circled the car, her face contorted in deep thought. “How did you break into it?”

“Not telling.”

“Hyukjae, you know that if you do not cooperate, you’ll—”

“Yeah, I know.” Hyukjae sighed again. “Fine. I’ll show you. Remove my cuffs. I can’t do it with my arms behind my back.”

Hyukjae waited for the click of his handcuffs. As soon as his arms were released, he rubbed his wrists and sighed again.

“Give me something thin and metal,” he said firmly. “Something that can act like a crowbar so I can make a wedge in the door.”

Taeyeon shrugged.

“We don’t have one,” she said nonchalantly.

“Then I can’t show you.”

Taeyeon rolled her eyes. “Hyukjae—”

“I’m not resisting you,” Hyukjae said quickly. “But I can’t show you if you don’t give me the tools for it.”

“Fine.” Taeyeon said, annoyed. “I’m gonna need the dashcam footage from the day of the robbery.” She looked at Hyukjae.

“Don’t look at me!” Hyukjae exclaimed, gasping in mock horror. “I’m not the owner of the car, ma’am. I only used it to rob people.”

“Think you’re funny, huh?”

“I’d like to think so.”

Hyukjae’s arms were pulled behind his back. He tensed at the familiar feeling of cold metal wrapping his wrists; a feeling he declared he never wanted to feel ever again once he was free from the law’s clutches.

“We’ll go back to the station,” Taeyeon affirmed, sending Hyukjae a sideways glance.

“Oh, already?” Hyukjae said, smiling sarcastically. “I was just enjoying the fresh air.” Inside, Hyukjae wondered where he’d gotten his confidence and smugness, considering he was trembling like hell when he first turned himself in.

Hyukjae trudged along, moving into the backseat of a police car. He wondered when he’d see the light again.

Months later, Donghae was sat in the room of Hyukjae’s house with a laptop nestled on his lap, furiously tapping on its keys. He had ventured an obscure part of the internet, a site only a selected few knew about.

“One last heist,” he said to himself, moving his mouse around the pad. The cursor highlighted a few hyperlinks on screen, none of which Donghae was interested in. Several clicks later, he found it.

ROBBERY: PARTNERS WANTED

Donghae clicked on a link that brought him to a page filled from top to bottom with text.

“Brilliant,” he said quietly, the pearls of his eyes dilating with each sentence he read. Perfect. Just perfect. Donghae found a solution.

“Are you sure you don’t want breakfast?” Deokboon asked several Fridays later. Donghae placed his duffel bag on the table and straightened the sleeves of his dress shirt.

“I’m sure, eomma.” He reassured. “I’ll eat when I get home. I’m sure my mother will cook up a storm for me.”

“Okay, Hae.” Deokboon shuffled around the kitchen. “Call me once you’ve reached home, okay?”

“Okay, eomma. I will.”

After a hug and a goodbye to little Hyukshin, Donghae made his way out the door.

“Bye, Donghae-hyung! Come back soon!” Hyukshin yelled behind him, running to the gate to wave goodbye. Donghae waved back, grinning.

“I’ll be back, Hyukshin!” He yelled back. He flagged a taxi. I will.

Donghae made his way “home”, if home was a place people went to plan heists. Deokboon didn’t need to know that, of course. She didn’t need to know that he’d found a partner to help him with his planned robbery either.

Donghae arrived at a dodgy house almost two hours later—a big, stand-alone house painted in beige with splotches of dirt in the corners of the house. He gulped. What if it’s a scam? He wondered. What if I step in the house and I get ambushed or something? He shook his head, huffing. When the hell did I get so cowardly? I used to execute heists, hello?

Donghae walked up the stairs to the house. He held onto an old wooden door handle nailed into the front door and knocked thrice.

“Hello?”

He knocked again.

“Hell—”

The door creaked open. Behind it stood a man with dark hair, bright eyes and a sinister smile across his face.

“You are?”

“Siwon,” Donghae greeted gingerly. “Choi Siwon.” He figured it was best he used an alias, in case his new partner him.

“Oh, it’s you. Come in.”

The insides of the house looked like it came straight out a horror movie, its crimson wallpapers peeling at the seams, cobwebs hanging from end to end. The man led Donghae into a large room to the left of the house. Donghae pulled a chair out a large conference table and waited as the man locked the door behind him. The air was stale. It smelled the way Donghae thought an old abandoned mansion would. , what if he kills me or something? What if this is a trap? He shuddered.

“Have you ever pulled off a robbery?” The man asked suddenly, sitting across from Donghae.

Donghae nodded. “I’ve done it about six times by now, but back then, I had a partner.” I miss you, Hyukjae, you son of a bi—

“What happened to your partner?”

“He shot someone. I fled before finding out what happened to him.”

The man stood up and walked around the table, standing next to Donghae. Donghae’s breathing hitched as the man lifted his face by the chin, rubbing his face with his fingers.

“I’m Heechul, by the way.” The man, Heechul, said as he grazed his fingers across the tattoos on Donghae’s face. “You’re going to need to cover these up if you want to be my partner in crime.”

Partner in crime, Donghae echoed as the memories of Hyukjae referring to him as such fleeted in his mind.

“Make-up will do the trick.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Donghae frowned. “I don’t wear makeup. Can’t we just use masks or something?”

Heechul took a step back. “Don’t you think it’s suspicious walking into a store with a mask on? Makeup will do the trick. Makeup and a fake beard.”

“This isn’t Halloween—” Donghae paused, “—Heechul. I’m not here to play dress-up.”

“Neither am I!” Heechul countered, slamming his hand against the table surface. “Do you think I’m playing around? I’ve robbed a ton before, so before you accuse me of playing dress-up you should really think of who it is you’re talking to here.”

Donghae swallowed.

“Sorry,” he croaked. “I was disrespectful.”

“Glad you know,” Heechul said, sizing Donghae up. “I would’ve forgiven you solely because of your pretty face nonetheless.”

A strange silence divided the room in half. Donghae tried to hold his breath, even if he wanted to choke half to death because of the stale air.

“Right, let’s get you made up.” Heechul said, walking towards a drawer at the other end or the room to retrieve a small box.

“Wait, we’re doing this today?” Donghae asked in disbelief.

Heechul rolled his eyes. “Yes, Siwon, we’re doing this today. Don’t worry. I have everything planned out.”

Donghae nodded his head slowly. “Okay.” Don’t trust him, Donghae. He might be using you as bait. Heechul began to dab the tattoos on Donghae’s face with a cotton ball, covering them in foundation.

“We’ll be robbing two places today,” Heechul said as he shifted Donghae’s face to cover every inch in foundation. “First, we’ll rob a bank, and then a jewellery store.”

Isn’t that odd, Donghae thought. It’s like a trip down memory lane. He decided to probe further.

“What’s your plan?”

“We’ll rob a small bank in Dongdaemun first. I have a few acquaintances working in the bank to help us out. It’s not the kind of robbery where we’ll stereotypically shoot up the bank or anything. My acquaintances will let us into the bank’s safe to rob every single penny. All we need to do is dress and act like auxiliary officers.”

“What next?”

“We rob a jewellery store called Grafik Plasti—”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Donghae interrupted, twitching his mouth. “I’ve robbed that store with my partner. I think they’d have kicked up their security measures.”

Heechul frowned. “Then we’ll drop that plan for now.”

Heechul proceeded to pack powder on Donghae’s face.

“What if we get caught?” Donghae asked.

“Then so be it,” Heechul answered simply. “It’s every man for himself out here, but remember—snitches end up in ditches.” Heechul let out a laugh that made Donghae’s skin crawl, and suddenly he questioned if he should go through with the plan at all.

“Let’s go,” Heechul said several hours later. Donghae’s face was covered in skin toned foundation, concealing every single ink mark on his face. Heechul, on the other hand, had no makeup on. He didn’t need it.

The pair were dressed up in weird, muted blue uniforms that—according to Heechul—his acquaintances had given them for the heist. They’re auxiliary police uniforms, Heechul had said. Donghae did not dare to question him after establishing that Heechul might have a temper.

“My friend, Jinki, is the security guard at this bank. He’ll us to the safe. The whole point of our get-up is to pose as auxiliary officers that are about to collect cash to be transferred to various ATMs in Seoul. Another one of my friends, Kibum, will make sure to turn off the CCTV cameras before we enter the bank, right until after we leave. It’s foolproof. Arm yourself, in case anything bad happens.”

Donghae nodded. “I trust you.”

“Yeah, you should.”

The ride to the bank was awkward and silent. Donghae found himself staring out the window, wondering if Hyukjae was okay. He stared at his bare ring finger—he had decided to leave the ring at home—and stifled a sigh. He wasn’t even sure the ring was from Hyukjae.

“We’re here,” Heechul said, backing the car into a lot next to the bank. They unbuckled their seatbelts and got out of the car. Donghae held onto a black duffel bag, following Heechul quietly. He had never been to this bank and the anxiety of what was to come ate him inside. He dug his fingers into the duffel bag.

The security guard, Jinki, spotted them and immediately nodded towards Heechul before escorting them past several doors. Donghae looked around. The bank was busy as usual, and Donghae found it odd how no one else had noticed them. It was like they were invisible.

“The cameras are turned off,” Jinki said calmly, standing behind them. Heechul and Donghae were busy stuffing as many wads of cash as they could into the black duffel bag. For some reason, Donghae felt strange. He attributed it to the fact that he’d gotten so used to executing heists with Hyukjae that it was weird working with anyone else. Plus, the heists Hyukjae and Donghae would carry out were usually high-risk, so it was weird to him that this heist was panning out so….peacefully.

Once the bag was full, Donghae zipped it up.

“Thanks, Jinki.” Heechul said quietly. “I’ll pay you later.”

Jinki escorted the pair out the bank quietly, as if they had never been there at all.

Heechul drove them back to the house.

“Do you use this car after every robbery?” Donghae asked, curious.

Heechul nodded. “Yep.”

“How? Wouldn’t they track you down?”

“Not if I change my car plate after every heist.”

“That’s..” Donghae paused briefly to think of how to best phrase his words. “That’s very clever of you.”

Heechul shook his head.

“Nah,” he said, “it’s just a small detail crooks like us often overlook. It’s nothing special.”

The rest of the ride was silent. It started raining, so Donghae occupied his time staring at every droplet that glided down the window on his side. He missed Hyukjae; he missed the Hyukjae that clung to him when they weren’t out robbing, the Hyukjae that claimed he loved him, the Hyukjae Donghae claimed he’d loved back. Weird, isn’t it, feeling something so intimate with a crook?

They arrived at the house almost an hour later.

The pair changed out of their uniforms and back into the outfits they had worn pre-heist. Donghae quickly slipped on the ring that he’d presumed Hyukjae had given him. The details of the day he fled the bungalow remained hazy to him, but he believed in his presumption. He walked over to the drawer at the far end of the room and picked up the box that Heechul had left there, hoping that it’d have some sort of solution to wipe the makeup off his face. He opened the box, only to find various makeup products. Not even a single wet wipe in sight. Maybe Heechul placed those elsewhere.

“Hey, Heechul, do you ha—” .

Donghae turned to face Heechul with his hands up in the air. Heechul had a glock pointed in his direction, and Donghae was so terrified he couldn’t help the way his body trembled.

“Heechul, please don’t…”

Heechul smiled evilly. “Thanks for helping me with the heist, Siwon. I’m sorry it had to end this way.”

“Why?” Donghae whined, close to begging on his knees.

“I can’t trust you not to snitch, Choi Siwon.” Heechul said, clicking the gun from safety to semi-automatic. “Why do you think I asked you to meet here? No one will ever find you here.”

“Please, Heechul, please! I won’t tell on you, I swear! Please don’t—”

It was like the bullet moved in slow motion. It glided through the stale air, piercing Donghae's chest like a lit pitchfork, and what’s worse was that Donghae could feel all of it—he could feel the bullet penetrating his skin, and how his insides had begun to bleed at its impact. He could even feel the shrapnel leave his body out the other end. As he fell to the floor, Heechul fired another gunshot, rendering him unconscious. The last thing he could hear was Heechul’s footsteps as he exited the house, leaving Donghae behind.

“Hyukjae, help..” Donghae called out, desperate. “Help me, Hyukjae…”

The world faded to black.

Hyukjae’s heart sank as he stared at the woman sitting across from him, divided by tempered glass. Deokbook stared at her son in silence, an expression of anguish sewn into her skin. She spoke first.

“How are you, my son?”

Hyukjae smiled weakly. “I’m okay, eomma. I asked Donghae to tell you not to visit. Why are you here? Where’s Donghae?”

Deokboon looked down. She couldn’t bring herself to answer her son, so she avoided his eyes.

“Eomma,” Hyukjae called out, his voice shaky. “Where’s Donghae?”

“I don’t know, Hyukjae, I don’t know!” Deokboon cried out. “He left home two years ago and I haven’t seen him since, Hyukjae! He said he’d gone home but I didn’t believe him. You told me his family was estranged, so I had a bad feeling about it. I let him go anyway. I shouldn’t have. I tried holding out, y’know, to make sure I wouldn’t visit you like Donghae made me promise, but how could I? It’s been two years, Hyukjae! And I don’t even know where Donghae has gone!”

It was like someone had knocked the wind out of Hyukjae. He forced himself to remain composed on the outside because he didn’t want to fluster his mother (she was already flustered as it was), but on the inside, his world was ripping apart. Where’s Donghae? He wondered sadly. Did he choose to leave me behind?

“Eomma, it’s okay, I understand.” Hyukjae said, reaching his hand out to touch the glass. “Don’t cry, eomma. lt’s not your fault.”

“I’ve been trying to find him, Hyukjae!”

“Shhh, I know, eomma.”

Hyukjae wanted so badly to be able to hug and console his mother, but all he could do to offer solace was to fake a front and touch the glass. He knew his mother had done everything she could and he knew how she must’ve felt guilty for losing Donghae, but it just wasn’t her fault. He didn’t want her to feel like it was her fault.

“Eomma, come visit me as often as you want to, okay?” He said softly, smiling. “Forget what I’d said. Forget what Donghae made you promise. I love you, eomma, I really do.”

“I love you too, Hyukjae. Hyukshin misses you.”

“Hyukshin….how is he, eomma?”

Deokboon frowned. “He isn’t doing too well, Hyukjae. His body isn’t reacting well to the chemotherapy. He’s been staying overnight in the hospital. I don’t know how much time he has left. I feel like I’ve lost both my sons.”

“Please don’t say that, eomma.” Hyukjae begged. “Hyukshin and I are still here. I’m so sorry things had to come to this, eomma. It’s my fault.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is!” Hyukjae cried. “I roped all of you into this. You, Donghae…it’s all my fault!” Did Donghae really leave me stranded or did something happen to him? Tears were forming in Hyukjae’s eyes. He tried his best to blink back his tears, not wanting to cry in front of his mother.

Deokboon reached out to touch the glass.

“I miss you everyday, Hyukjae.”

“I know, eomma. I miss you too. Three more years, and I’ll be back. I’ll be right by your side, just like old times. I never should’ve left in the first place.”

“I’ll find him.”

“Find who?”

Deokboon sighed. “Donghae. I’ll tell you if I ever find Donghae.”

“No, eomma, you don’t have to. He’ll find me if he cares.”