I’ll be your song

I’ll become quiet music

So I can wipe away all your painful tears

I’ll be your song

I’ll be your breath that you can comfortably breathe

If only I can take a step to you

Mrs Cho hugs and kisses Jonghyun as soon as we step into the corridor leading to our houses. “Aigoo, my darling grandson! See how he helps everyone, see how caring he is! I am just so lucky to have a grandson like you!” She ruffles his hair like he’s eight years old.

Now that I don’t see that sickening green anymore, Mrs Cho is actually tolerable.

“Ah, Grandma, you’re embarrassing me.” He says, but smiles. “I’ll come in a second, you go in.” Mrs Cho nods and kisses Jonghyun’s cheek once more and leaves.

“My grandma can be very… touchy-feely at times.” Jonghyun reasons. “She’s got a good heart, though.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I say.

“She’s just a lonely old woman living in the city.”

“Where do you live?” Taemin asks shamelessly. I swear- the boy behaves like he’s from a wild tribe sometimes.

Jonghyun chuckles. “I live in Seoul, but don’t tell her that. She’d come visit me every day. She thinks I live on the outskirts.”

“Wow.” I say. Jonghyun smiles sheepishly. “I love her, but she’s very… interested in other people’s matters.”

“Yeah,” I scoff. “I know.”

“We should go.” I say, but neither of us makes a move to leave. I know that the second Jonghyun goes into that house, the colours will be back. And I really like having an untainted vision.

“Yeah, we should go.” Taemin says, and tugs at my hand.

“When you want me to come to the doctors, just ring my doorbell. I’ll be ready anytime.”

“How long are you here for?”

“Two months.” He smiles. “Maybe more.”

“I see.”

“Okay, enough. Let’s go.” Taemin takes my hand and drags me into the house. I wave at Jonghyun.

Sure enough, the colours snap back into focus the second I shut my door.

“Why do you like him so much?” Taemin demands in bitter wine-red. “Because he makes the colours go away?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I admit.

Why do I like him?

Do I like him?

“Taemin, what happened?” I ask. “You’re very snappy today. Did Minho do something?”

Taemin doesn’t reply, but his demeanour says enough. “He did, didn’t he? What did the bastard do?”

“He hasn’t called, hyung.” Taemin says. “Since I told him I'm- he hasn’t-” a choked sob comes from Taemin, and I move forward to hug him.

“Taeminnie,” I say into the softness of his hair. “He’ll call, okay? I promise.”

*

The week begins, and I hate it. Taemin has practice to go to, so he leaves by nine, after stuffing his face with toast and juice. I wave him goodbye as he jogs down the stairs with his bag bouncing on his shoulders.

Mrs Cho’s door swings open, and my pleasant cherry vision becomes a sick green, and then clears into perfect crystal.

Jonghyun walks out the door, supporting Mrs Cho on his arm. He looks up at me and smiles, and my heart stops at his sincere, open smile.

He has earphones plugged into his ears, and he pulls them off.

“Hi, Kibum,” He says. “Grandma, go on down and get into my car.” He gives her the keys. “Roll the window down, your asthma will act up otherwise. I’ll be right with you, okay?”

His grandma nods and takes the keys. She leaves after wiping invisible dirt from his face and smiling fondly at him.

“Your grandma really loves you.” I say. Jonghyun smiles and nods.

“Grandma never had a son- three daughters, but no sons. She’s always wanted a son, so I think she pretends I’m her son and showers her love on me instead.”

“I don’t really like her.” I admit. Jonghyun laughs, the sound high and beautiful. I want to catch it and put it in my pocket to keep forever.

“She’s a very different person. Her values are traditional; old. My mother doesn’t like her either. She sends me to visit her every time she’s supposed to come. I like her, though. Grandma’s very… loving. Do I still