This is my first time creating a playlist for a fic, EVER, so I'd appreciate it if you listened to it. Click here.
Comments and upvotes are highly appreciated. The second part will be uploaded soon. Enjoy reading <3

Life is cruel, and there is no need to question that. It was a sentence that constantly ran through minds, leaving bitter faces in its wake. It was just a three-word sentence, yet it made more sense than Junhoe’s life. Or maybe it made sense because it was the only explanation he could give as to why he was the way he was.

Unfortunate and cursed were words he had no difficulty identifying with.

Goo Junhoe was a walking pessimist, wearing lips that almost never curled up, and eyes that would’ve been more beautiful if he didn’t use them only to cry. But tears didn’t even come that often. More often than not, he just stared at the white walls of his room, trying to look for cracks, for the littlest semblance of the flaws he saw in himself.

There were many other uses for the eyes, such as ogling a beautiful man walking down the street, gaping at the stars whenever they decided to show up, or dissecting the shades of pink and orange in the setting sun.

Junhoe’s eyes were never used in those ways though, because Junhoe only saw the negative. He only saw the dark side of things. He noticed the shadows first before the light, questions like ‘Why can’t…’ almost always threatening to slip from his tongue.

So he decided he was better off a flying mess, than a walking one. Who knew, maybe he’d find it brighter over there. Junhoe craned his neck up to the top floor of the hospital across the street, and swallowed the lump in his throat. The idea seemed so inviting, even when he knew that everyone who flies takes a fall, and maybe that’s what made it such a beautiful thought, because then, he’d at least have reached a height in his life.

He ran back to the mini mart he just came from, in search for a shelter as the rain poured without warning.

The cashier guy wearing the ugly green vest that was supposed to be his uniform, looked up at Junhoe expectantly, obviously wondering whether Junhoe had left something behind.

Junhoe dismissed his stare before walking his way over to one of the stools in front of the glass wall. He took a seat and wrapped his hands around the cheap, hot coffee he bought from here—the same cup of coffee he forgot to bring out—and stared at the building across the street.

Flying seemed like a bad idea now, because he might slip off while he’s not ready, and he was also afraid that no one would find his fallen body soon enough, so he saved the thought away for the future, ideally a sunny day.

The rain only poured harder, and Junhoe whispered profanities at the innocent glass wall.

Junhoe cursed more in his mind at the sight of the cashier guy who stood by the door, palm resting on the glass. An out-of-place-smile was plastered on his face as he hummed along the song playing in the background, a song about memories of love and spring. Junhoe could only stop himself from laughing at the cashier guy’s choice of music, because Hello? Last time he checked, it wasn’t spring yet. The weather was rather depressing, like it always was to him, no matter if it rained or shined. It wasn’t a time to sing along to spring songs and smile at glass doors and . ing weird.

“Um excuse me?” Junhoe called for the cashier guy’s attention rather impatiently.

The cashier guy turned to him, and looked at the cup of coffee in his hands.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, and rushed back to the counter to check out Junhoe’s coffee.

“Another cup? Coffee’s not too good for you.”

Junhoe would appreciate the other’s attempt at conversation if he wasn’t Goo Junhoe. He just breathed out a reply, “Yeah,” even though a part of him wanted to correct the cashier. Coffee would be good for him if he overdosed on caffeine, but according to what he read on the internet, he would need around ten cups for that, and chances of dying from overdose was low even then.

He then he fished out a bill from his pocket and placed it on the counter.

He could feel the cashier guy’s eyes glued at him, so he raised a questioning eyebrow in response. “What?”

“You’re not from here, are you? I haven’t seen you around,” cashier guy chirped, then reached out a hand for a handshake.

“I’m Jiwon,” he grinned, and Junhoe didn’t really feel the need to say his name but he did, anyway, out of politeness .

“Junhoe,” he nodded before picking up the change Jiwon placed on the counter, and not so subtly ignoring Jiwon’s hand.

“So…?” Jiwon continued, awkwardly resting his then extended hand against his side. A new song played, and it was by Yoo Seungwoo, Junhoe knew that much.

Junhoe snorted inwardly at the song choice, and Jiwon could tell something else is in Junhoe’s mind.

“I’m from here…I just don’t go around much,” Junhoe replied hesitantly: not entirely truth, but not entirely lie, either.

“Oh, I see,” Jiwon gave him one of his easy smiles, and Junhoe found himself furrowing his eyebrows at the bunny teeth flashed at him.

“You don’t seem to like Yoo Seungwoo,” Jiwon opened up another topic almost immediately, and Junhoe didn’t want anything but to leave this man’s presence if only the skies would let him.

Junhoe just shrugged absentmindedly, eager to pick up his coffee and leave.

Coincidentally, the chime by the door made a sound, and Jiwon’s attention was immediately on the twenty-something woman who folded her umbrella and wiped her arms dry with a white towel.

Junhoe took the chance to go back to his seat, and he mentally cursed the heavens for crying on what could have been a nice day to die.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” the woman said before walking to Jiwon, and Junhoe drowned himself in his coffee and in the background music that now seemed relaxing.

Seungwoo’s fine. You just don’t know when to play his songs right.

Junhoe had no idea why Jiwon decided to sit next to him about a minute later, eager to make conversation.

Junhoe turned to the guy with the easy smile, who was now wearing a plain white shirt under a gray hoodie because his shift was now over; a questioned look dawning on his face before he averted his eyes away from Jiwon’s gaze.

“Don’t you like the rain?” Jiwon’s low tone somewhat surprised Junhoe now that he he didn’t have to talk to Junhoe from across the counter. The proximity made his voice lower, and Junhoe didn’t like the closeness.

“Where’s the fun in being stuck inside a mini-mart when I’d rather be doing something else.” He said, mostly to himself, as he eyed the top of the same building and mentally slapped himself for saying anything more than intended. Jiwon heard him anyway.

Jiwon’s laugh sounded like a low growl, and Junhoe found this oddly calming.

“Me too, actually,” Jiwon agreed.

“Yeah?” Junhoe took a sip from his cup.

“Yeah. You,” Jiwon replied.

Junhoe almost choked on his drink and he eyed Jiwon from the corner of his eye. Jiwon’s eyes crinkled when he let chuckled at himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said unapologetically. “I didn’t mean that…kinda.” And he laughed again.

Silence fell between them when Jiwon realized he was the only one laughing.

When Jiwon looked, he saw that Junhoe’s mouth was curled up in the slightest angle…if he wasn’t simply humouring himself.

Jiwon cleared his throat.

“I can let you borrow my umbrella, if you want,” Jiwon offered readily, and Junhoe just looked at him as if to ask ‘How are you going to get home, then?’ so he said more, “Or I can walk you home. So that it’d be a win-win situation.” he leaned his head forward, looking at Junhoe from the side.

“Win-win, how?”

“You get to go home warm and dry and I...get to walk you home?”

Home? Junhoe just shook his head, and Jiwon laughed again, albeit lightly this time.

Jiwon could practically see the dark aura Junhoe had around him, and he thought it interesting for someone to carry around such a light—or shadow. The dark bags under Junhoe’s eyes made him look tired, and his ghostly pale skin didn’t help, either. Jiwon guessed how fast Junhoe’s heart was beating in that moment after having two cups of coffee.

That can't possibly do you good. It makes you awake yes, but it also stirs stuff uo inside you, making you more alert--I would know. You look like you need all the sleep you can get.

Jiwon couldn't help staring Junhoe from this close, and Junhoe let him. After all, he wasn't being a bother in that moment, and they could continue being that way--just strangers sitting beside each other--and he would be fine with that so long as Jiwon didn't talk to him.

Surely, Jiwon didn't miss Junhoe's point of attention--the sky--but he couldn't be more wrong than that.

“I think,”Jiwon began, and paused in hesitation before continuing. “I think it’s amazing how people look at the sky when they pray for something. It feels a bit like someone's up there, watching us, waiting to hear our voices. Doesn't it seem that way to you, too?"

“I haven’t thought of it that way,” Junhoe mused. It’s not like I think much, either.

"What are you praying for?" Jiwon asked, and it sounded so innocent and genuine that Junhoe wanted to laugh at its absurdity, but refrained from doing so as not to kick a puppy. He believed in no god.

Instead, he smiled, and Jiwon liked the sight of Junhoe's teeth showing, lips curling up.

How beautiful would it be if he could make his smile reach his eyes? He couldn’t see a hint of life in them.

“That’s only for me to know.”

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it makes you happy when it comes true.”

That hurt, somehow.

Junhoe wanted nothing more than death taking him then and there. He wanted to fall asleep and not have to wake up another time, and for someone to genuinely wish for his happiness when that comes true moved something in him. What would happen to people after death, anyway? Would death truly be the end? Would that really be the answer?

Junhoe didn’t seem like he was into talking so Jiwon didn’t say any more. His silent presence eased Junhoe off, but he would be lying if he said out loud that he wanted to Jiwon to off, like how he would any other person. No, Junhoe wanted to hear more of Jiwon’s nonsense and laugh inwardly at them. He wanted to laugh like it was no big deal, wanted to know what drug Jiwon was on if it allowed him the same wrinkles around Jiwon’s eyes when he laughed. He knew things wouldn’t be that easy, though.

The rain reduced to a drizzle, and soon it stopped altogether, and they both knew it was time to go. That first meeting was too good, and Junhoe had lived long enough to know that nothing good ever lasted so he decided that saying goodbye as early as then would make things easier. He then stood up to throw his cups into the nearby trashcan, and Jiwon blurted out a question he didn’t see coming.

“Will you come back here?”

Junhoe stared at him, blinked twice, and the first thing that came to his mind was the word ‘why’. Why do you want to know?

Though, instead of voicing that out, he just shrugged off his shoulders.

“I don’t know.” Yes, no; it depends whether I jump off that building first thing tomorrow and I survive.

Jiwon nodded, a hopeful smile on his lips. “I’ll see you around,” and Junhoe pushed the door open. The overhead chimes rang, announcing Junhoe’s departure, and Jiwon was left staring as the pale boy crossed the street.

Needless to say, the time they had was brief, but Jiwon found a piece of himself leaving with Junhoe, and he thought that it was the piece of him that wanted to see a hint of Junhoe’s smile; the piece that wanted to reach out to smooth the fold in Junhoe’s forehead. It was the piece that believed and trusted, just like how the rest of Jiwon’s pieces did.

Junhoe’s plans of flying were dismissed for a future time since he was locked in because he was a ‘bad boy’ (his mother’s words) when he snuck out last week just so he could drink