5,080 words // September 19, 2015

Jeonghan knows he’s taken to wander.

One minute he’s home and the next he’ll be at the Han River, on the roof of a restaurant, or maybe sitting on a tree on the hill, looking over the city. It’s unhealthy in a way, and he doesn’t bring this up to his friends and family because Jeonghan knows that they worry too much for a reason he doesn’t know, and that they’ll watch over him even more. He’s thankful for it, and he doesn’t question them, but it gets uncomfortable to know that someone could be watching to make sure he doesn’t do something endangering - to himself(?). That’s probably why, but he likes to think that maybe he could do something wrong (to someone, or everyone else) because there’s always this feeling at the bottom of his stomach that could be equivalent to either guilt or just plain emptiness. It’s a strange thing he notices when he has a tingling in his fingers to reach out, to touch and it’s just another regular occurrence as a headache cracks in his head like he’s been struck.

But besides from the wandering, the anticipation to see where he could end up next, Jeonghan likes to believe that his body is running through time to find its memories. His body memories don’t match up with his head memories in the slightest. It’s an odd thing to be honest, but it’s something he knows about himself, something he’ll get to learn. His head is bad, and his body is leading him through it.

If only it were so simple.

Jeonghan doesn’t know about whatever happened before, and what he does remember is clouded and blurry with confusion. He’d rather not know from the perspective of everyone else, instead by learning along the way. Childish demeanor people call it; hiding. Of course he’s hiding in a sense, but it’s not fair for anybody, it’ll never be.

(Why doesn’t he get his own memories? Why does he have to remember using what other people remember? They’re not even his own memories; since when was that fair?)

He ends up at the metro station at eleven o’clock at night and it smells of rain. It’s cold, winter making the air sharper, like breathing through your mouth after chewing peppermint gum and he has to fold his arms against himself tighter. He must of left the house without checking the weather, or hadn’t been outside period because he’s only wearing a thin tee-shirt he doesn’t recognize and a pair of ripped jeans.

Great, great.

It’s not any warmer as he walks through an empty station, but it provides a little comfort with the bright lights and new area. The signs shine dimly and colorfully against the fluorescent lights above him, and he watches in the corner of his eye as the subway train passes him with a rush of air. Another train won’t be coming for another thirty minutes, but Jeonghan doesn’t mind because he’s got all night and the rest of his life. He could walk around for the longest time, hiding out and waiting till morning to get on one, or maybe he’ll just go back home to the comfort of his room.

Jeonghan keeps walking.

It’s another few minutes before he finds someone waiting for a train.

The person he sees is a boy, probably his age, sitting on a bench with a blank expression and an empty stare to the other side of the tracks. Jeonghan stops, far from this new person, to see what is so interesting. It’s eerie, but it doesn't make him uncomfortable or scared to approach. And he does so, stopping right by his leg..

The boy - Jeonghan really shouldn’t call him a boy because it’s rude, and he’s probably not a “boy” either if he’s about his age - makes no acknowledgement of his presence, not even when the light haired male takes a seat on the opposite end of the bench. Jeonghan tries not to stare, but he’s captivated by him. He doesn’t stare, but he sneaks a glance every so often that his neck starts to hurt from turning. The looks he gets are of small pale lips, a defined jaw, cute eyes and perfect dark brown hair.

But he looks sad, empty. Jeonghan can see how his shoulders slouch only slightly while the rest of his body is tight with posture, and it’s a weird sight that he doesn’t understand.

“Staring is rude.”

Jeonghan jolts out of his phase and stumbles an apology. They return to silence and he tilts his head to get a better look.

"Still staring."

This time, Jeonghan grins before saying a quick hello. The other replies with a curt nod, and Jeonghan decides that he hasn't gotten enough of the other's voice.

"It's a nice night." Another curt nod. "So, how was your day?" Internally, he cringes because he sounds either like a nurse or an awkward in-law or maybe both.

Mr. Perfect Brown Hair shrugs, and Jeonghan sighs. He tries to think of another question that the other would answer, but when is he about to opens his mouth, he hears a chocolate voice.

"And how was yours...?"

Jeonghan smiles widely at the stranger, happy. "Great, now that I've gotten some kind of conversation out of you."

The stranger scoffs, but Jeonghan can see the hint of a smile. "You shouldn't be so straightforward with strangers."

Jeonghan waves that away with his hand. "No, I've only been like this to you."

"What's your name?"

He watches as the new male pauses and then shrug.

"Why s'it matter?" To this, he doesn't get a reply, but ends up chuckling. "Joshua. You can call me Joshua."

Jeonghan physically brightens, but when he is about to say his, Joshua puts a hand over his mouth. A too comfortable gesture that is sudden and almost frightening.

"I didn't ask for your name, so don't say it." Joshua has a sharp glint in his eye, and Jeonghan hates that he thinks it's somewhat y somewhat cute somewhat mysterious and just that.

They fall back into another silence and Jeonghan stares. Joshua doesn’t comment on it this time, getting the hint that the long haired male doesn’t care whether it’s rude or not. Joshua is a pretty person, handsome and beautiful at the same time. It’s dark brown hair and long eyelashes on brown eyes and nice skin. A sharp jawline and pierced ears. He’s wearing a black Parent Advisory hoodie, black pants and shoes - he wouldn’t be surprised if said male was wearing black boxers, tank top or socks, or maybe all of that - and the folded collar of a black shirt peaked from the jacket’s neckline.

Without thinking, he reached out and brushed his fingers against his cheekbone, drawing back quickly when the other tensed.

“Can I… touch your face?”

Joshua snorts, saying “You’re weird.” but he doesn’t say no, or tell him to get away when Jeonghan reaches out again. It’s an oddly familiar gesture, and he likes how Joshua’s face fits against his hands. Pretty pale lips and cold features make Jeonghan want to kiss him, but he holds himself back because he doesn’t really know Joshua.

(He doesn’t know anybody really and maybe he doesn’t know himself, but that’s besides the point.)

A puff of air makes Jeonghan shiver, and he remembers he’s only wearing a short sleeve shirt. So maybe he wants to use this opportunity to maybe scoot closer to Joshua and take his warmth, but Joshua pulls away and then a black ball of fluff is being presented to him. Joshua’s black ball of puff to be exact, Joshua’s black hoodie. Jeonghan feels his stomach fill with butterflies, but it’s cold and Joshua’s black collared shirt doesn’t look very thick. When he’s about to decline, make Joshua put back on the clothing before he catches a cold, the ball retreats and is instead shoved on (him).

Joshua’s hoodie is really warm, and Jeonghan thinks at the back of his head that Joshua has a lot of warmth of spare.

“You’re going to catch a cold.”

“But what about you?” Jeonghan questions.

Joshua ignores him. “Why’re you out so late anyway? It’s not really safe, especially when you’re pretty like that.”

Jeonghan’s heart jumps, and he hopes he’s not blushing. “Did you just call me pretty?”

“Yeah, it’s already an obvious fact. Stop grinning like you just won something.”

Jeonghan laughs and scoots closer, just a little bit. Joshua doesn’t remark on that, so he takes it and moves a bit more. When he hears Joshua say “You didn’t answer my question.”, the light haired male furrows his brow to think of a reply. He doesn’t come up with one.

“I don’t know actually. I just kinda… ended up here.” Jeonghan turns to him to find Joshua watching with unreadable eyes. Hesitating slightly, he continues. “I’m kind of an airhead, or that’s what people say. I just ended up in random places without remembering how I got there, or why. Like, I remember the places, and that I was here, just not how I got here.”

“Anterograde amnesia…?” If Jeonghan knew any better, he would’ve thought Joshua was worried. Internally, he pushed that thought away; the only thing Joshua would be is curious.

“No, not really. I can make new memories, but I don’t remember anything from before. Memories in general start fade after a while, but you remember parts and glimpse. I don’t have those.”

Joshua hums, and doesn’t reply beside from that. Honestly, he’s kind of glad the other didn’t. He’s looking for some company, maybe friendship, not a therapist.

“My friend used to be like that. Well, he was then, I don’t know anymore.”

Jeonghan turns to face Joshua’s side. “Are you not friends with him anymore?” A shrug. “That’s not really an answer but okay. If you’re alright with it, tell me about him. Her. Whatever.”

“He. It’s a he. Not really anything to say about him, but it’s not like it matters now. He’s gone, or maybe I’m gone. We’re gone -  there.”

Joshua’s voice sounds hollow and his body is giving up, slouching even more and he sits like a doll on a shelf. Except without the dead eyes and straight face; Jeonghan would say he looks like an emotionless doll, but there’s too much emotion in his eyes and he’s not taking enough breaths.

“When did this separation happen?”

A pause. “About a year ago.”

Slow and ragged, like death.

“What- Did… something happen?” Jeonghan asks hesitantly because he doesn’t want to trample upon soft spots, on old or new wounds that haven’t scarred yet. When Joshua doesn’t reply, he starts to panic slightly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have as-”

“It’s my best friend - was my best friend." Joshua pauses to smile, and immediately Jeonghan likes it better. "He was perfect with brown hair, an angel smile and he was nice, cool. Just… him. I always thought it was so weird, how he stuck around with someone like me but he was my best friend. One of those people who’d give up everything for. And well, he was my everything. He was, we… We were close, going past ‘best friends’.

“There weren’t any problems: our parents were okay that we were queer, our friends kept telling us to hurry up and date but we didn’t. We didn’t need to. Things went along like usual, just with a different spark. Sitting closer together, glances and… couple-y stuff. But something was holding him back, and he always apologized and it was fine. I was fine with it. He never told me why, but we were “something” and we were content. It was great really.”

Joshua pauses as the metro pulls up, and they get on even though Jeonghan doesn’t really know where they were going. They sit next to each other in the back, and Joshua keeps staring forward. Jeonghan would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. Worried about where this story is going, and about Joshua.

“What went wrong?” It’s a small voice the light haired boy manages to push out, his throat dry all of a sudden.

“I… don’t know. Well, yeah I do know, but it’s what people keep telling me, but it’s not coming from him.” Joshua takes a sharp breath. “He started drifting away and I kept swimming against the current. But the thing is, it gets harder and harder as it keeps pushing you back. He started looking so tired, so worried but I couldn’t help, not when he didn’t let me. He’s the kind of person who gives but doesn’t want, and as you keep trying to force him, he keeps rejecting it. I’ve been with him long enough to know so I didn’t cross the line. I just watch from the side, to catch him when he fell.

“He stopped telling me things, about what he did and just said vague, blank phrases. He didn’t initiate all the small things anymore - he barely looked me in the eye. But when I did, look into his eyes, and didn’t let him look away, I realized he was scared. Scared of me. Like I was going to hurt him, and I wouldn’t, couldn’t, would never. But it was still there in his tired eyes and small face. I just… asked him to trust me. He did, and I him, but he still hid things.

“And then, he was gone for a small period of time; a few hours, to maybe a day and then it was days at a time and then it was two weeks. He was gone for two weeks and no one would tell me where he was. They kept telling me he was fine, but why would he be gone, and not tell me? It didn’t matter whether I was in love with him or we were romantically involved or whatever - we were best friends, brothers. It was another four weeks before I saw him again and I was so happy, I thought I lost him.”

Jeonghan hears the drop in his voice, and he hopes there’s a happy ending.

“But of course, life isn’t nice to anybody. It’s okay - no, it’s not. Life’s not fair.”

Nope.

And here’s the punchline. Jeonghan screamed in fake, terribly horrifying glee in his head. As if Joshua heard, he laughed bitterly, dry and forced.

“It was at the park, a place where he always went to think. I ran to him, hugging him and telling him how worried I was. What he said? Asked? ‘Who are you?’ Of ing course. My best friend of eight years, the love of my life asks me who the am I? I wanted to laugh, ask ‘Where are the cameras?’ because there’s no way he could be serious. He. ing. Was."

Joshua shakes his head.

“It was a brain tumor. They removed it, and they took me with it. I had to find out from his parents. They made a great deal about how it wasn’t cancerous, it was great how he’s alive. I was glad that it wasn't cancer. But I was selfish then, and I’m selfish still, and all I could think about was that I’m not alive anymore. I’ve been wiped off the face of the earth and that was no better than dead. They all brought flowers while he was in the hospital and then he would tell them he has hazy memories of them or how he feels. I got to cry in front him, had to tell him ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I got the wrong person.’, had to ing watch as he gives me this ty sympathetic look. I’m not a kicked dog.”

It’s silence after this, Jeonghan unable to say something and Joshua trying to catch his breath. Joshua pulls at his hair, dragging his nails down his face to leave red trails, slowly raising welts. The older pulls at his hands to stop him and he sees the pained smile Joshua puts on, how his eyes betrayed everything.

“I couldn’t get any last memories, no last kiss, nothing. It was so unpredictable, there’s no way he could’ve known that whatever happened with me was going to disappear with the tumor they’re taking out. It was just me. No one else. They told me he didn’t want to tell me, scared that I’ll worry myself sick. That he didn’t think I needed to have to go through with it. But what the hell? Who the cares whether I was his best friend or love interest or brother. He trusted me, and I should’ve been there. I should’ve been the first one he sees with flowers by his side. He doesn’t remember me? Okay, I’ll be here anyway.”

Jeonghan has to stop him, has to pull Joshua till he’s leaning against the seat with the younger’s face pressed into his neck. It’s terrible, how he knows this boy for roughly an hour and he’s spilling his regrets into the air to escape through the windows, the training leaving them behind.

But it’s not fair, because Jeonghan knows that Joshua hadn’t told anybody about this, hadn’t let himself be this vulnerable and that this lone boy had to go through it all himself most likely. Nothing is going to cover these memories, nothing is going to get rid of these horrible feelings.

Joshua doesn’t cry even though Jeonghan tells him it’s okay if he does, that it’s okay for him to feel sad. He only gets a choked out laugh by his ear and feels the younger try to pull away. Jeonghan doesn’t let him.

When things quiet down and Joshua lies limply again the elder, Jeonghan sings something he remembers that at the same time he doesn’t. It’s familiar in so many ways but he doesn’t know how, but the long haired male just ignores the nagging feeling in his stomach as he rub Joshua’s back, run his hand through his hair even though he knows he shouldn’t.

Because this stranger is going to leave somewhere, and there’s a bigger chance Jeonghan will never see him again than if he does. Finally, he lets the dark haired boy lean back but still keeps a hand in Joshua’s hair, rubbing circles and petting him slightly.

“Will there ever be a second chance?” It’s a sharp question that could be taken so many ways with so many answers and is currently walking through the storm. It’s too quick, but it comes out anyway.

Joshua sighs, exhaling sharply. “A second chance for what? Me? It's too late for that. And I don't know whether I want a second chance. As for him... A million chances, god knows how many I would give him. But after tonight, he's not going to get any of those."

Jeonghan is about to ask why, and Joshua knows that (Jeonghan doesn’t know whether it’s because he seems so predictable or because Joshua knows him better than most people do), so he cuts him off before the older can open his mouth.

"This train is going by the airport," A pause. "I'm going back to the states."

Jeonghan's heart plummets to the bottom of his stomach and he stares back to him. He should've seen it coming. "That's... Really far away."

Joshua laughs genuinely, and Jeonghan's heart pounds. "Los Angeles, the city of Angels. It's home besides from here."

"Will you come back?"

Jeonghan feels the other flince physically. Of course, Joshua wouldn't come back, not when he has so many bad memories and good memories that have only turned bad.

Screw it, might as well.

"Will I... Be able to see you again?"

...

"I don't know."

On the overhead, a man tells them the next stop is in five minutes, and Jeonghan deflates because it's the stop to the airport. It's done, their one time fate is coming to an end and there's nothing that can be done.

ing .

Joshua stands up, but doesn't move from Jeonghan and hesitates. Jeonghan doesn't know whether he wants Joshua to stay longer, or if he just wants to get it all over with. Either way it's going to hurt somebody, he just knows it.

"Hey can you do me a favor?" It's sudden, but Jeonghan nods anyway. "Can you... Call me Jisoo? It's my name, Korean name."

"Jisoo...Jisoo. I think I'll miss you Jisoo." Jeonghan runs through multiple sentences, repeating his name like a mantra, but doesn't say anything along the lines of 'I'll miss you,' again or 'don't go,'.

The train stops, and Joshua throws a look over his shoulder, again hesitating. Jeonghan hears him swear under his breath, and watches as he turns around, lean over and give him a tight squeeze.

"I'll miss you too Jeonghan."

Joshua is out the doors before Jeonghan can say anything else, and he's confused, really confused. He never told Joshua - Jisoo - his name, not when he told him not to give him his name.

It hits him hard, but the train clicks, a warning that it’s starting to move, and Jeonghan is dashing out of his seat to the doors because he remembers. He bangs on the doors while searching for a stop button and Joshua is standing right there. Joshua watches, and smiles before raising his hand to his face, swiping his fingers up to say 'smile!'.

But how can Jeonghan smile? When he's desperate to get to Joshua and he's crying because there he is, the whole ing problem of Joshua’s terrible love story and all the memories, and all of Joshua plays on rewind or fast forward.

Life's not fair.

But no one cares.

When Joshua is out of sight, and the train leaves him behind, Jeonghan hits the door, waiting for it to stop so he can run back, but he knows that's not how it works. His memories start to defog and play.

He always wanted his memories, to get rid of the empty feeling in his stomach and heart. But not like this, never like this.

But you never get what you wish for in this big ing world.

He goes back to his seat breathing harshly as his head fills with pain and he wants to close his eyes, squeeze them shut and block out the world, but Joshua is under his eyelids, waiting to be remembered and he can't forget that Joshua was in his grasp, he was right next to him less than five minutes ago. And that Jeonghan lost him, so ing hard.

He does end up closing his eyes, because it's as close as he's going to get to the brown haired boy.

The first thing he remembers is one of the normal days, just going to Jisoo's house and listening to him play his guitar while Jeonghan sings, that song that he just sang to Jisoo. It brings a smile to his face, because it was so perfect even in that small moment.

The second scene is their first kiss, an abrupt thing where at the time they weren’t sure about each other’s feelings but they knew themselves. It was at Jisoo’s house, him laying on his back going through some old photos and Jisoo on his stomach next to him. He said something, and Jeonghan wasn’t listening, and he just leaned over and kissed him. Teenagers in love.

The last scene is a horrible one that isn’t from before his surgery, just a while after that while he’s at the park. The scene that’s haunting Jisoo as the first blow to the head - or heart, or maybe both. He’s looking around, and then there’s this boy running to him, and he gets up to meet him halfway even though he doesn’t know him. Just like the story, Joshua is telling him how worried he was and without thinking, Jeonghan asks “Who are you?” and it feels so wrong to say that. It feels even worse when Jisoo starts crying, and he’s trying to grasp the situation in front of him with this dark haired boy.

It hurts to breath when he opens his eyes, and Jeonghan is crying again. The train is pulling up to another stop so he checks the map. This stop isn’t far from the airport, and he hopes he’s a fast runner.

Jeonghan gets off the next stop and then runs back. It's a stupid gesture, but he wants to hope that Jisoo is still there, waiting for him to come back after realizing. He gets there quickly enough and it’s bustling with people unlike the other station but there’s no Jisoo. There’s this empty space that goes unnoticed by the crowd, and Jeonghan makes his way to stand in the middle. It’s still the same as before, being separated from everybody somehow, in someway.

He’s not separated by his memory, his search for body memories anymore - well, maybe not the latter - but he’s heartbroken and alone and he feels like a black dot on a white page, noticeable but quickly looked over, distracted with the rest of the page. Fading to a soft grey.

Jeonghan takes off Jisoo’s jacket, wrapping it into a ball and throwing it onto the bench, angry and sad and lost. His legs give out, and then he’s sitting on his white page and it’s ironic that he’s wearing this plain white tee-shirt and light pants - Jisoo’s white shirt. Brushing his bangs away, he huffs, and takes the hoodie back because what did it do to him?

There; a black dot on a white page.

It’s a sad moment and he hears noise in the background, empty silence with a sudden ringing. It’s another ten-twenty minutes before he gets back up and then walks home. If he can call it home.

It’s not home unless he’s in his arms.

It’s a flurry of memories waiting to be watched and remembered as he walks down familiar roads. Jeonghan actually gets to see the way back and almost every street brings back a memory; the park, the four am convenience store trips, fireworks and sparklers in the dark of an alley, and more and more.

And Jeonghan can’t get enough.

Until he does.

It’s his house, and he gets a really good look at it; it’s like all his memories were put into an editing program and layered upon one another. The whole scene is just Joshua Joshua Joshua. Joshua in the day or walking home or waiting with a bundle of flowers or with the sun shining at the right angle, sunlight reflecting in his eyes and against his hair.

It’s so, so not fair.

The flowers, the stairs, the roof, the world is just a punch in the gut because it’s true, Joshua is gone, and probably never going to come back. He’s not going to show up at his window or doorstep with flowers like a prince. Jeonghan isn’t going to go to America, Los Angeles to find the dark haired boy with a broken or scarred heart, missing a jacket. The world doesn’t work that way.

Jeonghan’s room is dark when he enters with a little moonlight shining through his window, and he doesn’t bother to turn on the light or change. He’s going to sleep in Jisoo’s jacket, sleep with his warmth and smell because it’s the last time he’ll get to. When he wakes up, his jacket will probably smell like him instead and maybe tomorrow, a week from now, in a month or a year, he’ll forget Jisoo’s smell, of chocolate and soft cologne. He’ll forget his voice, and maybe the look in his eyes of sadness or anger or happiness or more importantly love.

If he’s lucky, there will be a diary somewhere, pictures and voice recordings, videos and maybe Jisoo’s family still lives around the corner, and that he didn’t ship everything over. Maybe, he can go sit on his bed, fill with more memories and the fading smell of what used to be. Maybe Jisoo left his guitar, and he’ll play it while pretending that he’s right to him singing along, laughing at how Jeonghan messes up some of the notes because he’s used to singing and watching as Jisoo plays his beloved guitar. Maybe he can feel the touch of Jisoo’s face, the outline of his body of when they used to sleep together with legs tangled in the hot summer, or how Jisoo’s hand felt in his with calloused fingers and a warmness touch, all in his sleep.

There’s a whole lot of maybes, but they won’t bring Joshua back.

Jeonghan stays up until three forty-five, replaying memories and looking at diary entries and photobooks he found stored under his bed in a pretty box. He memorises Jisoo’s face again until the only thing he sees is the love of his life under his eyelids. He falls asleep to a recording of Jisoo singing in English.

When he wakes up to silence sitting on the ground, slouching over the edge of the bed, he hopes it was all dream. It’s in the scattered paper and photos that tell him “Nope it’s ing tomorrow.” and the sun had just risen, shining through his window. Jeonghan opens it, and there’s no Jisoo with rocks or flowers.

He keeps it open, staying locked in with soft wind blowing through his hair and sometimes blowing his papers around.

It’s four in the morning now, and Jeonghan is out of tears, listening to himself sing with Jisoo’s part coming on soon. There’s a sudden pause but he doesn’t know what happens next because it’s a new tape, and Jisoo’s voice comes in, just talking and no guitar and the Jeonghan then is confused as to why they stopped.

“Hey Jeonghan, you know I love you right?”

“Of course I do, and I love you more. Too; all the words that can complete that phrase and show how much I love you.”

“I love you.”

The Jeonghan from then says something, and it’s a small conversation he doesn’t pay attention to.

“I’ll love you forever, even if you hurt me in a million ways. You’ll love me no matter what right?”

Yes, Jeonghan thinks because if he says it aloud, he might ruin this perfect nostalgia he has in this tiny room, Yes I know; yes, I will. “I’ll love you no matter what.”

Jeonghan closes the window.

 End.

Hello! Thanks for reading to the end! As I said in the foreword, there might also be another sequel written for this. 

Update: The sequel is currently being written :) I suddenly had a burst of interest while being lost on a bunch of buses. 

Please let me know what you think in the comment! Or if you really like it, please upvote! 

Love, Atlas.