Where There’s Smoke, There’s Fire

The sound of the television spreads quietly into the small apartment, travelling calmly through the living room and into the kitchen where the resident is. The show is abruptly interrupted by an important news announcement.

‘We interrupt this broadcast for a breaking news announcement. This morning at 11:15am, Delta Airline, Flight 682 traveling from Hong Kong to Los Angeles experienced technical difficulties and made an attempt to do an emergency landing. However, the landing came to an abrupt end when one of the plane’s engine malfunctioned, sending the plane into a spin and crash landed into the ocean. We are currently on standby for reports of any survivors. More news on the incident will come in at the five o’clock news.’

Slender legs enters the living room, standing in front of the television, its owner gazing at the screen. Soapy water drips from wet hands. The semi clean plate slips, sliding out of slippery fingers and lands on the floor, breaking apart. The sound startles the man.

He hisses at the cut on his foot. Grabbing the broken plates, he cleans up the shards, heading to the closet to get his vacuum for the smaller pieces. His thoughts twirl as the machine picks up the scattered pieces. His body moves automatically as he cleans and returns the machine into the closet. Shaking hands reaches for the table, guiding the rest of his body to the chair.

‘In other news…’

He reaches for his phone, unsteady fingers looking for the number dialed a million times before. He lifts it to his ear, anxious and waiting for the call to be picked up.

‘The number you have dialed is currently not in service. Please hang up…’

He hangs up and tries again, his fingers steadier.

‘The number you have dialed is currently not in…’

The call ends immediately and he tries again…

‘The number you have dialed is currently not in service. Please hang up…’

…and again…

‘The number you have dialed is currently…’

…and again.

‘The number you have…’

The phone is hurled into the air and lands a few feet away, breaking into smaller pieces.

He bites down hard, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. Blood oozes from his lips, rolling to the side and dripping down the corner of his lip.

“Where are you?”

The sound of the front door unlocking causes his head to jerk up. His ears picks up the sound of boots hitting the floor and sock covered feet walking into his direction. His breathe hitches, a strong pressure builds up in his chest, and his surroundings fade out.

“Are you okay?” The young man looks at him with bewilderment. “I’ve been calling you for the pass five minutes.”

“Oh thank god!” He stands up, taking long strides over to the other man and tackles him into a hug. “I thought…I thought…” The words die at his throat, swallowed back into the pit of his stomach and digested with the rest of the uneasy feeling. Instead, water gathers around his eyes. “Thank goodness.”

“What’s wrong?” A smile appears on his face and he wraps strong arms around the slender male. “Did you miss me that much? Are you falling in love with me?”

He pulls back and shoves the man away. A smile makes an appearance on his handsome face. His previous fears are gone.

“What’s this? You’re abusing me now?” He scoffs, a teasing smile on his face. “Hey, Mark Tuan. You were hugging the life out of me and sobbing about how you missed me and how you can’t live without me only seconds ago. You’re abusing me now?” He puts a hand over his chest. “I’m hurt.”

“Are you hungry?” Mark asks affectionately. “I already ate, but I can heat it up for you.”

“Did you poison it?” He gasps, pretending to be skeptically of his long time best friend’s question and actions. “Will I die? Are you planning to drug me then lock me up because you are secretly in love with me and don’t want me to love other people.”

“Of course not.” Mark rolls his eyes at the other’s foolishness. “Do you want me to?” He teases, curious at his friend’s response.

“No.” He replies bluntly, without thinking. “You’re a great guy and handsome too. You deserve someone better than me.” He notices the look on Mark’s face, a smile that doesn’t mean much of anything. “I don’t think I’m ugly, but I’m not that attractive either.”

“How can you say that?” Mark answers, an amused smile on his face. “Are you saying you’re not worthy of my love if I give it to you?”

“Cuz…I look in the mirror. I see myself. I know I’m not attractive, but I’m not ugly either.” He replies with complete honesty.

“Jackson…”

“Hey. I love you and I know you love me.” He pauses, letting the thought process in Mark’s head. “But like…we’re like…we do things with each other, a lot of things. I’ll do everything for you and I know you will too. We have each other’s backs and support each other.”

“Hey, Jackson Wang. Are you in love with me?”

“Did you not hear what I just said? I love you. We love each other!” Jackson pulls Mark’s head close, pressing his forehead on the other man’s. “We love each other!!”

Mark smiles at Jackson’s passion. It has not dwindle a bit through the years.

“We’ve been through lots together.” Jackson pulls back, patting Mark’s shoulder with a sigh. “We love each other because we’re best friends. We’re just borderline into romantic love territory. But I don’t think we’ll go into that.”

“What’s with you? Why all this talk of love and stuff?”

“You’re the one that started it!”

“Me?”

“You jumped me the moment I stepped in the door and was all…” He turns playful, mimicking some girls they met a few weeks ago. “Jackson oppa~~. I miss you~! I love you!! Mwah! Mwah! Jackson oppa~ Marry me!!” He turns to Mark, a serious look on his face as if he just didn’t do the fangirling act.

“Don’t you find that weird?” Mark questions, walking into the kitchen to reheat dinner.

“Of course it’s weird.” Jackson sits down at the table. “I don’t even know who she is and she wants to marry me.” His misplaced seriousness puts a smile on Mark’s face and he’s aware of the normalcy it brings back into the apartment. “I was wondering if I did something or said something that gave her a wrong impression.”

“Did you?”

“No!” Jackson retorts strongly, as if the idea is ridiculously insane and Mark has just insulted him. “Why would I flirt with anyone or be giving them wrong impressions when I’m always with you? They’ll probably think there’s something between us because we’re always together. They’ll think we have a relationship.”

“Do we?” Mark glances over as he pours the pasta into the pan. “Have a relationship, I mean.” He stirs the pasta and turns it down to low heat.

“I hope so.” Jackson’s reply is quick and immediate. “Why are you even asking me that? We’re living with each other, our laundry is mixed, we eat and sleep together, and we even take showers toget…”

“That was ONE time. And it’s because the shower was broken and we had to go to the public bath. And that guy was following me around stalking me.”

“Whatever. We took a shower together.” Jackson pauses, freezing with his hand in midair. “What was I talking about?” He turns his eyes around, as if it would help him remember.

Mark places the plate of pasta down, a smile on his face at the look on Jackson’s as the man tries to remember what he was talking about, or about to say.

“Oh yeah…” He moves his hand, using it to physically express himself. “We’re living together and doing things like shopping for groceries and stuff together. People will of course think we have a relationship. And they are right. We do have a relationship.”

“What relationship is that?” Mark bites down into his apple.

“Are you crazy? Why are you even asking me that? Is that even a question? Are you serious? Are you really asking me…?” Jackson pauses, looking as if he’s insulted and angry, but Mark knows better. “Of course we have a relationship with each other. It’s called a friendship.” He ends the word with a loud ‘p’ sound, emphasizing it and the word. “We…” He gestures with his fingers moving between them. “…are friends and we have a friendship. Our relationship is friends.” He can feel his body growing warm from the extra-ness he’s putting into his words.

“You’re an idiot.”

“That’s why we make such a great pair.”

“This is good. It’s super delicious.” Jackson comments, stuffing his face full of the pasta.

Mark smiles as he watches Jackson devour the food he made. With his left hand holding his head up, and his right folding neatly in front of him, he watches fondly at the silly man in front of him, eating as his life depended on it. “Did you not eat? Or is it this good?”

“Hey, I went two weeks without your food. I had my mom’s food, but that’s different. She’s my mom and her cooking is always great. My mom’s food is heaven, heaven!”

“What’s mine? Hell?” Mark teases, knowing the other won’t say anything bad about his pasta, not when the man is eating like he just got out of prison.

“It’s sinfully delicious.”

“You’re not getting anymore.” He picks up the dish and turns to put it in the sink, soaking it with the pot he hasn’t washed.

“What? Why not? I complimented your cooking! How can you not let me eat more?” His eyes turns to follow Mark’s hand as the man reaches into the corner to get a covered plate.

Instead of getting more for the hungry man, he places the man’s dessert on the table. “Here.” He watches as Jackson tastes the chocolate cake. “I was going to eat that since I thought you’ll get back later tonight. I was planning to finish the crème brûlée for you.”

“I want that too. Give it to me.” He shoves a large piece of the chocolate cake into his mouth, the frosting off his lips.

“You eat my dessert and want yours too? What are you? A dessert dump?”

“I’m a sophisticated gentleman who understands the delicacy as your fine cooking.” Jackson sticks his fork into the cake, moving it into Mark’s vision. “Don’t say I don’t share with you. Here, open wide Marky pooh.”

Mark wraps his lips around the cake, pulling it away from the fork. “Did something good happen?” He pulls in the cake crumb on his lip, it clean with his pink tongue. “Did Mama Wang introduce you to a girl?” He’s genuinely curious since the topic was approached for weeks now. Maybe he can finally get rid of the man.

“Nope.”

Or not.

“Are you trying to get rid of me? Is that it? You hate me now?” Jackson grips his heart all dramatically, faking hurt. “You’re dumping me?”

“Yeah, in the arms of your one true love.” Mark rolls his eyes and grabs the cake, stealing a bite. He smirks at Jackson’s scream for him to return the cake and calling him a cake thief.

Mama Wang would urge Mark to tell her what type of girl Jackson likes. And he couldn’t really say. It’s not a secret or something he can’t say. Rather, he had never talked to Jackson about the specific topic. Sure, they spend most of their childhood together, even attending the same schools, talk about everything and going as far as moving in together, but that subject was never something they approached. Maybe they even avoided it.

“You’re stuck with me, pal. I’m never going to let you go. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth and vow you never leave you alone. I won’t give you up to anyone else.”

“Are you drunk? Or crazy?”

“What? Who else is going to make me food? Your food is the best and everything else tastes like garbage. My tongue is trained to only eat your food now.”

Mark thinks back to a few years ago. That time, he was still in school, a culinary school but a school is a school. He didn’t know if it was meant for him, but trying won’t hurt. It’s been a hobby, or more like a task turned hobby that he had to learn to feed both Jackson and himself. The other man would whine and complain about junk food because it’s ‘not good as mommy’s’ and how ‘I wish I can eat mommy’s food’ and it would annoy the heck out of him. So he decided to cook, starting with biweekly lessons at a local school. Okay, maybe it’s been years since then, especially since they started to live together towards the end of high school because Mama Wang wanted Jackson out of the house instead of following her around and finally get a girlfriend because ‘I’m not getting any younger. Go and find a girlfriend so I can finally get grandkids.’

“This is so good. Mom don’t make nice desserts like this.”

Mark smirks at the words, especially when the same mad had said his desserts tasted like cat food. But hey, cat food is better than garbage, right? He had just started and the school only teaches dishes, not desserts so he had to experiment on his own. Luckily, his college’s professors love him and would give him special privilege, including using the school’s kitchen meant for the cooking class’ students. A handsome face has its benefits, and manners.

Jackson scrapes the plate, cleaning it with his tongue and placing it down, spread out on his chair in satisfaction.

The beginning of the classes were hard. It was harder when he was the only guy there and the other students would touch him and ask him for his numbers. It was probably the only bad thing about it. When Jackson picked him up that one time, he scared the girls so bad that they backed off because the ‘if you don’t stop harassing my precious brother, I’ll hang you on a street pole by your ’ threat. They didn’t know Jackson was joking of course. No, how could they when he looked like a thug and had wrapped his head in a headlock and acted as if he’s harassing him. The end up giving him gifts to make his life easier since he must have ‘borrowed money from shady people’. Jackson is the one borrowing from him, not the other way around. Tuition and living costs kills. They’re serial killers who aren’t arrested because no one sees the damage except for the ones suffering.

“When is the crème brûlée done?”

“Yeesh…” Mark gets out of his seat, sneering at the smirking Jackson and rolling his eyes at the man’s heart and ‘I love you’ thrown his way. He pulls the oven door open, peaking inside. Pulling out the two ceramic cups, he places them on the counter. Sprinkling the sugar on top, he grabs the small blowtorch, burning the top of the dessert.

“Marky pooh!!! You know I love you, right?” He reaches for the dessert and quickly digs in with the small spoon.

“Shut up.” He turns his eyes to his own dessert and starts eating, glancing carefully over to Jackson to see his reaction. “How is it?”

“Oh my…” Jackson leans back, a satisfied look on his face. “I must be in heaven.”

Mark smiles at the exaggeration, starting on his own dessert. “Is it that good?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell this? Your crème brûlée are heavenly. Are you sure you’re not some cooking deity that came down to save my soul from bad food?”

“Would you believe it if I said I am one?” Mark wraps his lips around the spoon, cleaning it of the creamy dessert. He slides his tongue out and swipes the bottom of the spoon before digging it into the small ceramic cup again.

“Yes.” Jackson leans in again, putting a hand on Mark’s, stopping him from eating. “You’re my friend. Of course I believe you.”

Mark scoffs, smiling at Jackson’s antics. “Just eat.” He pushes the hand away, returning to his food. “I’m thinking of adding another dessert menu, what do you think?”

“For the café? Are you sure?” Jackson is secretly tingling, his heart fluttering at the idea of new menu. New menu always means Mark using him as the taste tester, which means new food, which means he’ll be in heavenly bliss as Mark feeds him plate after plate of his cooking. It can also mean hell though, depending on how he looks at it. Mark is stubborn when it comes to trying to perfect a specific taste. He’s always been his worst critic. That would mean plate after plate of the same meal, possible days. The man’s gotten better at adjusting, and there are the creepy noonas at the local cooking center that would give him feedback, despite how he hates the women hanging on Mark like leeches.

“I’m still thinking. I won’t have time to cook for you if I spend it at the café.” A grin creeps up his face at the expected reaction.

“Good point. It’s too much work. Just stay here and cook for me.”

“I’m expensive.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be flying again tomorrow so I’ll earn lots of money so I can have you as my personal cook for the rest of my life. Okay?”

“So soon?” To be honest, he feels slightly disappointed. “Should I put my license to work? It’s no point not to use it after the trouble of getting it.”

“I thought you wanted to cook. Isn’t that your dream?” Jackson finishes the crème brûlée and takes the empty cups to the sink.

Mark ruffles his hair and mumbles out his secret. “I just wanted to feed you, that’s all.”

“What’s that?” Jackson turns around and looks straight at Mark. “Did you say something?” He waits for a repeat, but Mark only shakes his head a smiles.

“What time do you have to leave tomorrow?”

“I have a good twenty-four hours with you. I’m going out tomorrow night at eleven.”

“What do you plan to do tomorrow then?” He stands and heads towards the living room.

“Spend it with you.” Jackson breathes out.

“What’s that?” Mark turns, his eyes meeting Jackson’s. He tiles his head in confusion. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Jackson walks over and envelops the taller man into a hug. “I just miss you. That’s all. I missed you, my friend.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Mark wraps his arms around the muscular man. “Is everything okay with Mama Wang and Papa Wang?”

“Yeah. They’re healthy and kicking. Still trying to get me married off though.”

Mark lets out a chuckle. “Sounds nice.”

“Nice?” Jackson pulls back, scowling at Mark. “Are you trying to marry me off too? That’s so mean of you.” He smacks the man playfully. “I hate you.” He pretends to throw a fit and plops down on the couch, grabbing the remote. “What’s on TV?”

“No idea.” Mark sits down next to the other, ignoring the things in the sink. They can wait. Jackson is more important than some dirty dishes anyways. “Do you have something you want to watch? A movie?”

“Nah…” He flips the channel, landing directly on a news coverage.

‘In order news, some people believe that moving in with friends of any gender is starting to become the norm. Others believes it’s something temporarily and living together should be between a man and a woman. Come back at five o’clock to see what some people have to say this topic with more news on Delta Flight 682. See you then.’

Mark turns his body towards Jackson as the channel is turned. “Hey.”

“What?” Getting no answer, Jackson turns to look at the man. “What?”

“Why are you here? I mean, your flight… isn’t it…?”

“Oh, you mean Flight 682?” Jackson senses the worry on the other’s face. He turns his body to face the other, moving close. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Mark bites his lips. “It’s just…”

“You thought it’s my flight?” Jackson states, pointing out Mark’s worry and the reason for his strange behavior earlier.

“Wasn’t it? I remember it.” Mark turns, getting up from the couch. “I even have it written down. Let me just…” He lands back on the couch, except with something between him and the couch. Correctly speaking, he lands on Jackson’s lap.

“I’m here. Don’t worry.”

“How…?”

“I got an earlier flight. Mom saw how restless I was and told me to change to an earlier flight. She said I was too annoying following her around because I was bored.”

“Why? Why did you…?”

“I missed you.” Jackson tightens his arms around Mark’s waist, burying his face in the man’s back. “I missed you so damn much.”

“I thought I lost you.” The dam breaks and Mark’s tears rolls like a flood down his cheeks. “When the news talked about the plane crashing, all I could think about was you. I thought you would be buried under the plane and…”

Jackson turns the man around. “I’m not dead. You can’t get rid of me so easily. I’ll come back from the grave if you want me to. I’ll swim from the bottom of the ocean to get back to you if I have to. You’re my best friend and I’ll do anything for you. Well, except maybe marry you because mom still want grandkids.”

Mark shoves him away, ing a foot into Jackson’s chest. “Who on earth wants to marry you? I’m sorry but I’m too handsome to settle for you.”

“Shut up, Mark.” Jackson shifts closer again. “You know…?”

“What?”

“You look hideous when you’re crying. It’s so gross. Like eww.” He fakes a cringle and moves away. “Handsome Mark has become ugly.” He teases, smirking. “Oh my god! There’s snot all over your face! Ew! Gross! That’s so nasty! Oh god! Get away from me! It’s so hideous! Get the ugly away from me!”

Mark grabs Jackson’s arm and pulls him close, putting the man into a headlock. “How’s this for ugly”

“Don’t infect me with your ugly. Noooooo!!!”

“I’ll give you all my ugly so you can be single for the rest of your life.”

“That’s your plan all along, isn’t it?” Jackson pulls free and steps away, pointing an accusing finger towards Mark. “You’re really in love with me aren’t you? I knew it! You’re in love with me and want to keep me all to yourself!”

Still emotional from his outburst, Mark is caught off guard. Sure, they have always joked around about a significant other, but they mostly avoided the topic as if it would make the world crumble around them. Jackson would always make these playful accusations, but this time, it doesn’t sound playful. It sounds serious and… “Jackson, I…”

“Aww… I love you too, Marky pooh.”

Mark finds himself an arm full of Jackson Wang again. “Is something wrong with your head? What happened with your parents? Did they say something?”

“I lied.” Jackson releases the man and returns to the couch, pulling his legs up. “Mom didn’t tell me to come back early. I changed my flight last minute.”

“Why? You’re always ‘mommy this’ and ‘mommy that’. What made you change your flight to come back sooner?”

“Mom wanted to introduce me to some girls. She says she wants me to find a girlfriend at least, if I don’t want to marry yet. Or just meet some girls and be friends. But you know how parents are, if you’re friends with the girl, they’ll tell you to date them.”

“But it’s not the first time, right?” He depressed at the topic, understand how Jackson doesn’t really like people getting involved in his love life, or lack thereof. Love is love and it should be natural like breathing and eating. “She just wants what she thinks is the best for you.” Mark admits reluctantly. “She wants you to have something that can love you.”

“There’s you.”

“In a romantic sense.” Mark corrects, not wanting to think too much of it. “She wants someone to take care of you, someone you can eat and talk with, laugh and have fun with, a person that will support you and encourage you no matter what you decide to do with your life and in your life.” He understands, there are just some things that can’t be replaced by other people, especially someone that is supposed to spend the rest of one’s life with.

“But you eat and talk with me you take care of me and I take care of you, and we have fun together. You encourage me and support me when I said I wanted to be a pilot and made sure to shove food down my throat—hey, you did it that one time—when I refuse to do nothing but study. You understand me more than anyone can and know me better than anyone else. I’ve already decided to stick to you like a leech for the rest of my life. Why can you just fill up that role? I don’t see a problem if I decide to give it to you.”

“Do you understand what you’re talking about?” Mark retorts, growing uneasy. “She wants someone you can love and be loved by, a girl that will love you romantically and start a family you. Not some guy that grew up with you.”

“You’re not just some guy. You’re Mark, the one that’s been by my side since forever. Yeah, we don’t have anything romantic between each other, but you’re already doing the other things. I don’t see why I have to have romantic feelings in the mix. If it’s romantic love, I dated some girls,—kinda,—during college and I don’t see what the big deal is. I can do without the romantic part.” Jackson brushes the topic away, turning his attention to the TV where a drama is playing. This topic infuriates him, especially when it turns things sour between him and Mark.

“Your mother still wants grandkids.” He comments, using it as a semi last resort to bring the other around and understand.

“I can always adopt or something.”

“It’s not the same and you know it.” Mark sighs and sits down next to his gloomy friend. “Does she not know that you’re a ‘bird that has no nest’?” He smiles at the glare, putting his hands up in surrender. “That’s what you said!”

“When?”

“You said that when you started officially flying. I asked why and you said you don’t want to be a caged bird. That a bird with a nest means he’ll always return to that nest and you don’t want that. You wanted to be a bird where the entire world is your nest so you can go wherever you want.”

“I did? Why don’t I remember?”

“Because you were drunk and trying to clingy to me like a koala. Seriously…don’t drink.” Mark can still remember the trouble he went through because of the man’s drunk . “You sounded like no one can every tame your wild spirit. It makes me wonder why you always end up back here when no one can keep you in one place.”

“I said that? Me?”

“Are you saying I’m a cage?” Mark retorts, slightly annoyed at the memory. This is better, talking about something they’re both comfortable in. A quiet Jackson is weird. Though, it’s weird of him for not wanting to stay quiet.

They have always been opposites, even as children. Jackson was the loud as hell child that no one wants to be around. Mark was the child so quiet that no one knows he’s around. He was the quiet introvert while Jackson was the loud extrovert. It made sense that people would always give Jackson food, just to stuff his mouth and shut him up. They won’t do it to Mark, because no one knows he’s there. Being quiet seemed to be a synonym to being invisible. It was only chance, or fate, that Jackson had found him that day. The loudmouth child had broken his silent life with a “That’s pretty.” and startling him and making his colored pencil go out of the line. Jackson seemed to have noticed and apologize softly. They spend the rest of the afternoon coloring. The adults had panicked because they suddenly couldn’t hear Jackson’s voice anymore. Since then, they stuck to each other like bees to honey. Jackson thinking Mark was a pretty girl had nothing to do with it, really. And Mark thinking Jackson is a gege he can finally play with and someone he can be friends with had nothing to do with it either. Of course, they eventually realized their mistake, but Jackson just responded with wide innocent eyes and “But you’re prettier than all the girls!” which made Mark self-aware of the stares the girls would give him. Mark didn’t tell Jackson about his age until his birthday a year later, but the other just gave him “Oh my god! I finally found someone who’s older and cool!” and making him feel embarrassed, yet finally happy to be cool. At least he’s cool enough for Jackson, that’s all he cares about.

“Hey.” He nudges the younger male. “Aren’t you going to answer?”

“They don’t have to be blood related to be family.” Jackson turns his head, his eyes full of affection and…something that can’t be labelled. “We don’t have blood ties and we’re family.”

“I’m a friend. You can consider me as family, but we can’t really be one, you know.”

“I don’t care. You’re family. You’re part of my family now. No, you are my family.” He continues, cutting off whatever words wanting to leave Mark’s pretty, pink lips. “They’re different. They’re my parents, but it’s not the same. You’re my family, not theirs.”

“Jackson…”

“I don’t want to talk anymore.” He quickly stands up and walks away, grabbing his bag from where he dropped it when he first walked in. “I’m going to shower.”

Mark gives up, completely aware its Jackson’s way of completely ending the conversation before it gets worse and they start arguing. Instead, he turns on the TV, the source of his previous annoyance returning. The news showed the wreck of the plane, describing who how’s and why’s of the malfunction. Frankly, he doesn’t care, couldn’t care, much about the crash. All he cares is Jackson is safe and sound, taking a shower in the bathroom of their apartment. As selfish as it sounds, he’s glad Jackson wasn’t on that plane. The incident is sad.

The apartment is drown in silence again, excluding the soft noises from the TV and the faint sound of the shower. It’s a peaceful type of silence, and comforting. It brings forth a feeling of normally noisy children being silenced by a nap. The clock on the wall ticks, counting down to the return of the noise, of the life of the apartment’s residence from their tornado of thoughts.

There’s a bitter sweet memory just waking up from a nap while Jackson is still sleeping next to him, using his arm as a pillow with his fingers clenched in Mark’s shirt. He would be the first to wake and would watch Jackson until the other wakes up. He likes Jackson, a lot, but the child tends to run around and talk a lot, bouncing like a ball all over the place. He likes smiling Jackson, but it’s also nice to see a sleeping Jackson, when he’s all quiet and resting. It makes Mark want to poke the man and hold him close when he finds Jackson suffering from nightmares. A quiet Jackson has always been rare and Mark would enjoy the moments when the other is sleeping peacefully because once the other opens his eyes, the silence would be broken.

The inaudible sound of his emotional hurricane torments Mark, moving like a blinding blizzard. Mama Wang had asked him for help to get Jackson to at least date, but Jackson doesn’t seem to have an interest in dating. Even the topic is off limits with him. He understands he shouldn’t force his friend to do things he doesn’t want to, but he made a promise to Mama Wang.

“Are you trying to pull your hair out?” Jackson sits down on the table facing Mark, only wearing a pair of sweat pants with his towel around his neck. “What’s troubling you?”

“You.” The word escapes his lips before he realizes. It absentmindedness startles him and his body freezes, waiting for…something…from the other man.

“Your trouble is…me?”

“No.” Mark turns towards the man, his frustration all over his face. “I mean…it’s… I just…” He sighs in defeat, his body slumping and his head dropping. “Forget it. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if you’re distraught over it. Tell me.” He nudges the other with his knee. “I’ll help you solve it.”

“Mama Wang wants me to find out who your ideal girl is and I just…”

“What’s the problem? Just ask.”

“Ask?” Mark hadn’t even thought about the possibility. He saw no sign of Jackson wanting to even talk about it, much less tell him what he wants in a potential partner.

“Did you think that I wouldn’t tell you?” He covers his head with the towel, rubbing his hair with it. He keeps his eyes calmly on the other, his bangs occasionally entering his vision.

“I just… You never want to talk about it.”

“True…” With an understanding smile, Jackson leans in. “Ask me.”

Mark squirms under Jackson’s intense gaze, feeling once again like a child being punished for something Jackson dragged him into. “I…”

“Yes?” Jackson encourages, smiling knowingly at Mark.

“What’s your ideal girl?” Mark blurts out, feeling strange about asking something so normal. It’s as if he just made a confession of some deep dark secret he’s been hiding. Or perhaps he’s at the edge of revealing a secret he’s been keeping. But he doesn’t have secrets or anything to hide from Jackson……right?

Jackson doesn’t reply, keeping his gaze steadily on Mark. He leans in and with all seriousness, replies. “You.”

“What?” Mark breathes out, his heart skipping a beat. “What are you—?” He feels his heart thumping as Jackson’s face is only inches from his. “J-Jackson?”

Jackson leans in and…

“STOP!” Mark’s heart thumps and his breathing is chaotic. He lowers his head to his head. Taking deep breathes, he opens his eyes, seeing the familiar sight of his comforter covering his long legs. He groans at the strangeness of the…dream. Or is it a nightmare?

“What? What?” The door bursts open and Jackson rushes in, weapons raised and ready to defend his best friend’s honor.

Mark’s head shoots up at the voice, blinking his eyes at the man at the door. He breaks out in laughter, clenching his stomach in a laughing fit.

“Hey, it’s not funny. I thought you were getting killed or something.” Jackson lowers the butcher knife and the rolling pin in his hands. “Or worse…” He shivers at the coldness going up his spine. “I thought one of your fans…” He sneers at the words, knowing it’s a complete lie. “…found out where we live and decide to jump you in your own bed.”

“I’m not that attractive.”

“You’re a y guy. The girls all love you but you’re just acting humble.”

“Being humble is nice.”

“Yes, but you also have to embrace your handsomeness and fatal attraction.” Jackson jokes, turning and heading out the door. “I’m making breakfast.”

“Hey! Get out of there!” Mark quickly gets out of bed, tripping over his covers. “JACKSON WANG!! YOU STAY OUT OF MY KITCHEN!!”

“NEVER!!!” Jackson lets out a loud, evil laugh from the kitchen, sounding like a villain. “I’LL BURN DOWN YOUR BELOVED KITCHEN!! MWAHAHAHAHAAA!!”

Cooking and Jackson never get along. They are like oil and water, colors and whites, Tom and Jerry. Every time Jackson tried to cook, Mark would always borderline cardiac arrest. It’s just something that’s not possible to co-exist.

Jackson sips his coffee happily as he waits for Mark to finish with breakfast. The best way to get the man to get out of bed and cook is to threaten the end of the man’s kitchen. “What are we having?”

“I thought you said you wanted pancakes.”

“Plain pancakes is boring though. What about chocolate chip pancakes? Or strawberry pancakes, like those thin pancakes with fruit on them and stuff.”

“Crepes, you mean crepes. They’re for dessert, not breakfast.”

“Food is food. Can we have omelet for dinner tonight?”

“Jackson.”

“Ple~ase~! With a pretty Marky pooh on top?”

“Jack—”

“But Marky~.” Jackson pouts and raises his arms up, making a heart on his head. “I love you. Don’t you love me? If you do, you’ll make me omelet for dinner.”

Mark rolls his eyes. “Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because you’re the bestest person in the whole wide world and would never let a person like me starve to death. Because you’re the kindest, most loving person ever and would make sure I eat because I’m stupid and ugly and will burn everything into dust.”

Mark lets out a chuckle in disbelief. “I’m not that great.”

“Nope, not great. The greatest.”

“What are you? Five?”

“I’m only twee and a half.”

“Probably, because the last time I checked, ‘bestest’ isn’t a word.” Mark flips the pancakes onto the plate, piling three on each of the two plates. Grabbing the syrup, he places everything on the table, smiling at the eager Jackson.

“They smell so divine!! It’s like the food of the gods.”

“Shut up and eat.”

Jackson stuffs a mouthful pass his lips, at the softness. “This is better than .”

Mark nearly chokes at the comment. “W-what are you saying?”

“What? I’m just saying that it’s really, really, really good.”

“You didn’t have to say it’s better than…”

“Aww… Marky pooh, you’re turning red.”

“Sh-shut up!” He lowers his head and resumes his meal.

“Cinnamon and chocolate pancakes. So nice, so delicious.”

“It’s not that hard. I just sprinkled cinnamon and chocolate powder into the pancake mix.” He glances at the other man. “Even you can do it.”

“Are you saying you’ll let me cook?”

“Under adult supervision only.”

“Are you saying I’m not an adult? Should I show you how adult I am?” He stands up with his hand on his waistband.

“Please. Don’t.” Mark grimaces, turning away at Jackson’s playfulness. A stench reaches his nose again. It started since the night before but he had dismissed it, thinking it’s from the neighboring apartments. “Do you smell something burning?”

“It’s not me!”

Mark glares at the guilty looking man. “I’m not talking about you.” He clarifies, tempted to roll his eyes. “I keep smelling this burnt smell.”

“Is it from the other apartments?” Jackson shifts his feet, feeling uneasy.

“I don’t know. It seems too strong to be someone else.” He turns his gaze towards Jackson. “You are aware that you can’t cook.”

“Of course I am.” Jackson admits, scoffing at how ridiculous it its. “If I can, then I won’t need you to feed me. I can just feed myself.”

“Then learn to cook. Even a busy person like yourself can make simple dishes.”

“Did you not hear me?” Jackson retorts, upset at the comment. “I just said that if I can cook, I won’t need you.”

He didn’t want to think too much, too deeply about it. Don’t think too much about it, Mark. He doesn’t really mean that. He’s just being friendly. He stuffs more pancakes into his mouth. “So? Then you won’t need me to cook.”

“But I want it.”

Mark’s knife stops.

“I don’t need you. I want to need you.” Jackson watches as Mark lifts his head. “I love you. You’re…” He swallows nervously. “…you’re my friend and I want to need you. I want to be able to tell you anything and have you support me. I want you to be there for me when I need someone to lean on. I want you to be at my side through my stupidity. ”

“But…why?”

“You make my life worthwhile. You don’t know it, but you made me to who I am today.” Jackson confesses, his eyes growing red. “I’m loud. I’m always talking and don’t know when to shut the hell up. I thought the world revolved around me as a child because people always know where I am. I never thought that being quiet is a good thing. I’ve always thought being quiet means being boring. I didn’t want to be boring. But then…” He pauses. “…I met you.”

“Listen, I…”

“You listen.” Jackson demands, cutting off his words. “You showed me what being quiet really means. You showed me being quiet can help me see things I wouldn’t see if I’m always talking. Remember that butterfly watching trip we did back in junior high? I didn’t want to go, not at all. But then I saw your face and you looked so excited and eager to go. You talked about it for the entire week and I couldn’t tell you that I didn’t want to go. We end up going and I was bored out of my mind but I didn’t want to say anything and ruin it for you too. But then…” Jackson pauses, taking a deep breath. “That night…I saw something that changed my entire view of things. I’ve finally realized that being quiet isn’t boring, that it can help me see things that I can’t see if I’m talking. That night…I saw the most beautiful thing ever and I don’t want to lose it. That’s why…after all these years, I’m still trying to hold on to the memory of that night. After seeing it, I spent the whole night thinking about it. I had to understand why I didn’t see it before, why something so beautiful existed in my life and I didn’t notice it before. It’s not until nearly dawn that I realized. I realized that because I was always talking and talking and talking. I was never quiet and because of that, what I wanted to see, I couldn’t. I was the one that ruined my chance of seeing it. That’s why…I had to go with you weekend after weekend, even when I was sick, to see the beauty again and burn it into memory.”

“I never knew that you loved to see butterflies so much.” Mark feels proud, but why is there a pressure on his chest. “That’s good though. You’ll be able to see them with someone special and important to you.”

Jackson sighs, his shoulders slumping. “My flight’s moved up. I have to leave now.”

“Oh…” He’s disappointed, but why? Why is he disappointed? Jackson’s always flying here and there. It’s his job.

Jackson drops the plate into the sink and grabs his jacket. As he sits down on the front step to put his shoes on, he hears Mark’s quiet footsteps behind him. No one can hear the man’s footsteps as they are as loud as a mouse’s, but Jackson has training, he has twenty years of experience. He stands up, inhaling deeply.

“When will you be back?” Mark askes quietly. The airline loves Jackson and that means flying different consecutive flights without the chance to return to the apartment. It’s as if the apartment is an occasional stop, but it pays the bills and makes life easy. They always talk, every night, via Skype. It’s not the same, but it works. Sometimes, it feels like a long distance relationship between lovers. It’s not a bad feeling per say, but…

“I don’t know.” Jackson stands up, grabbing his luggage and opens the front door. “I’ll see you when I see you.” He smiles sadly, not willing to turn around to look at the other man. “And Mark…” He breathes in deeply. “…I wasn’t talking about the butterflies.”

The door closes with a soft click.

Mark’s legs fails under him and he finds himself on the ground. Fear. He’s scared. He’s scared and he doesn’t know what to do about it. His heart aches, clenching horribly together. His breathing becomes hard. His vision blurs and swims. His arms seems to be unable to move, feeling like lead. His breathing echoes in his head, being the only thing he can hear besides the thumping of his heartbeat.

He looks up, seeing the TV and in front of him. The news is on and the newsperson is talking, but he didn’t care. His attention is on the image, on the photo.

Mark screams. His lungs burn and his throat hurts, but he screams. He screams and chokes on his tears. A stream rolls down to the floor, soaking the tiles. His fingers dig into the floor, pressing so tight that they become white.

Another scream echoes and a cushion flies across the room.

Mark folds his legs up, lowering his head into his hands, gripping his hair, screaming. His face becomes red. The frustrations. The vagueness. The unconfirmed signs. The unspoken confessions. The unshared secrets. None of those matter anymore. He doesn’t care anymore because…because…

‘From the wreck that was Delta Flight 682, there are a hundred and twenty-three wounded sixty dead, and twenty-five missing. The list of passenger causalities was confirmed earlier this morning. Among the causalities is Delta Airline’s pilot, a twenty-one year old Asian man known as Jackson Wang.’

On the other side of the closed apartment door, Jackson smiles sadly. His clothes in tatters and burned, he understands. He has to go. His time is up and he can’t do anything about it. There’s no turning back. Everything was just too late. The love came too late. The confession came too late. He was too late. It was too late from the start. And now…he can only hope his most treasured person can move on.

“Goodbye, Mark.”

With that, Jackson fades into the sunlight, a smile on his face. A tear falls down and drips onto the cement ground, becoming the only evidence.

 

 

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This is the shortest one yet. It's my first time doing a real Got7 story. How is it? Anyone cried? I know I did.

Onwards! To "The Next Alice". I'm aiming thise one to be a creepy one.

Words: 7767

Pages: 17.25 pages

Dates: 20 January 2016 - 28 January 2016