~

Kibum had no idea when he had been moved from the floor onto the bed. When he opened his eyes, bleary and heavy still, he saw the light coming from the corridor, and he knew that that hellishly long day was not over yet. He dropped back down on the pillow. The ceiling was swimming above his head, and he was feeling bad, so bad inside he wanted to fall into the abyss of unconsciousness once more, and never wake up again. He could hear the sound of water running in the kitchen. Of course, Jinki was washing dishes in his luxurious hotel room. Weird things got into his head when he had too much soju.
Kibum knew he wouldn't be spending the night in Jinki's bed. Not after that kiss. Not after those years of longing after something he could never have. It just wouldn't be right.
He turned to lie on his stomach, burying his face in Jinki's pillow, breathing in the scent that he knew was his – the smell that had nothing to do with the hair or face products he used, and all to do with the feeling of him, his presence. Kibum was crying. Stupid, drunk tears were choking him, not bringing any relief, quite like a scream in an infinite darkness. He was saying goodbye to his love, without even having tasted it fully – it had only grazed the tip of his tongue.

Jinki was standing by the sink, still busy with the dirty plates. Probably sleeping with his eyes open.
Kibum came closer and called his name.
“Jinki. I need to tell you something.”
The other raised his head, but didn't turn around to face him. Kibum put his hands on his friend's shoulders. “Please, don't look at me, or I won't be able to say it.” He cleared his throat. “The thing is, I have... feelings for you.”
Quietly, Jinki turned the tap handle to switch the water off. The silence that came was unnerving.
In spite of that, Kibum continued:
“It's been that way for years, and I think... I think you know. Or you might have figured it out from– from the way I am with you. Nothing has ever happened, and I know that you don't feel the same way about me, so you don't have to look for words of comfort or think of a nice way of rejecting me. I don't want you to feel guilty or uncomfortable (although the latter you probably do feel anyway), and initially I didn't even want to say anything, and thought I'd get over this, get over you, alone, but then I... I... I guess people who love want to be heard...”
He had said it all in one continuous flow of speech and stopped to take a breath. He was undoubtedly drunk, and the tears kept coming, but his words were surprisingly clear.
“Bummie...”
He gave Jinki's shoulders a squeeze.
“No, let me finish. By saying all this, I just want you to know that you are special to me, and will be so for a long time, and I hope that someday I will meet someone with your eyes, your mind, or at least someone who will make me feel the same way as you do, and then… then I will heal... Please, be happy, Jinki. And for God's sake, stop smoking.”
“Kibum.”
“No, no, don't say anything,” Kibum stopped him again. “I will go, and I'll sleep, and none of this will matter someday.” He wished his voice wasn't trembling so much, but he couldn't control it. “Goodnight, Jinki. And don't turn around, 'cause I'm a mess right now.”
With those words Kibum wiped his running nose with his hand and made for the door.
“Bummie, don't leave me alone with this,” Jinki's voice pleaded faintly behind his back. How weak and small he became when he had to deal with other people's emotions.
“Goodnight,” Kibum repeated, closing the door behind him. He didn't slam it shut, because Jinki didn't like loud noises.
He didn't go to his room to sleep. Instead, he passed one corridor after another, and walked the infinite flights of stairs down to the first floor where he crossed the lobby and went out on the street in his home clothes and slippers, like a mad man. Only he was fully sane, and full of passive misery and pain. He had known that his feelings were unrequited all along, and yet he was disappointed like all rejected lovers are, and the feeling of Jinki's lips touching his own, giving him a shadow of hope without promising it, was haunting him, driving him insane. He wanted the rain to wash all of it away, erase his past, his love and even his name, but relief wasn't coming – it was too soon yet. There were many, many sleepless nights ahead. Endless days to get through. A last goodbye he'd have to endure. It was killing him.
It was quite late, and he didn't make a sensation walking down the street like that. No one could ever recognize him in that state anyway. His clothes got soaked through, and he was soon shivering from the cold. He stopped at an empty crossing. Was he going to cross? What for? He exchanged impassive glances with the driver of a lone car waiting for the lights to change, it's engine purring softly through the rain.
Kibum turned around, ran a hand over his wet hair and face. There was a grocery shop nearby, bathed in a pale white light, contrasting with the dark street.
“I have no money, sorry,” he said, walking in, his hair dripping with water. “Can I just sit here?”
The cashier girl shrugged. She was busy watching a TV drama on her phone and eating walnuts out of a bag sitting on her lap.
Kibum sat down by the table where hungry students usually ate cup noodles, and dropped his head on his hands as another wave of sadness rippled through his exhausted body. As it slowly died down, he watched the cars passing by the window. In the end, he was too tired to think of anything at all.
His phone was lying by his elbow. He looked at the screen and wiped the drops of rain water with his thumb.
If only he called. If only I had been wrong all along.
But it was silent.
And the sleepless nights, and the endless days came, and he was right about everything.

~

Kibum didn't return to the banquet hall. Instead, he stopped and leaned against the wall, his head low. He thought about the man on the roof. Wasn't it odd how he still remembered the taste of his lips? How time had passed him by on its way forwards? A part of him, the most vulnerable one, perhaps, was still sitting in that grocery store in those wet clothes and waiting for the call that would never come, and the incessant, cyclical rain was still pouring down from the sky.
“You're a fool, a blundering fool,” Kibum muttered to himself, gripping the pill bottle in his pocket.

A crappy husband.
That's what he was, to put it simply.
Who cared if tonight was the night he'd been waiting for. That he'd had a wonderful life behind his shoulders.
He had done it all wrong. He'd been a fool.
The streetlights, the neon signs and the traffic jam below blurred, turning into hazy spots of light, shadows with no substance. He rarely let himself cry nowadays. Not because he was proud (which he was), but because tears only made it hurt more. They made him feel helpless.
He didn't care now. He stood, his hands clutching the railings, and his shoulders shaking with quiet sobbing. He wanted to scream, but he was still too much in control over his senses to let himself go like that. So, he was just crying quietly, and tears were trickling down his nose and cheeks in silence, only disturbed by his unsteady breathing.
“What's wrong, Jinki?” Kibum's voice asked with worry and apprehension.
He sniffled without looking at him. He was glad it was dark.
“Nothing. I'm just tired and drunk.” Wasn't it true, after all? “You came back.”
“Yes. To say goodbye.”
“So soon? You aren't staying for the after-party?”
“I'm way too old for that.”
They didn't speak for a while. Then, unexpectedly, Jinki felt a touch, a light kiss on the nape of his neck. Kibum put his hand on his elbow.
“I know it's useless to say it now, and I'm just a drunk fool, but... I never got over you. You are my true love,” he said in a half-whisper. “And I'm happy it turned out well for you. Please, live a good life.”
Kibum wished Jinki turned around and looked him in the eye one last time before they parted, but he froze, either in surprise or apathy, and it felt like there were miles between them. Maybe no words or glances were needed anymore. They couldn't fix anything anyway.
I should just leave him alone.
“Farewell, Jinki,” Kibum said, walking away from his friend, again.

Eunsook pushed Taemin away, bringing their secret hallway make-out session to an abrupt ending.
“I need to check on Kibum, sorry,” she muttered, ready to leave, but he stopped her.
“Last time I saw him he was a full-grown man able to take care of himself.”
“You should've opened your eyes wider, then.”
“Come, kiss me once more.”
Taemin pulled her closer in a gentle, but determined movement and their lips met again.
“Wait, was he at the banquet hall when you left?”
“I do take my eyes off him sometimes, you know. And you should too,” Taemin murmured, his mouth gliding along the girl's neck.
It felt good, and all that wine made her skin tingle in a most delicious way, but Eunsook was still worried.
“But I'm supposed to be by his side all the time.”
“And you were, weren't you? He's been bothering you for hours.”
“Being bothered by him is the main part of my job.”
“I'm sure he'll be fine.”
“Damn, I need to find him.”
Eunsook couldn't concentrate on kissing anymore, not when she remembered her promise not to leave her boss alone. She had only been gone for about twenty minutes, and all that had happened was that she had finally reached the bathroom, bumped into Taemin on her way back, and somehow a casual discussion of the food they had tasted and possible digestive problems it might cause led to passionate snogging.
She took her phone out of her purse.
“Do you honestly prefer searching for your boss to being kissed by a handsome guy like me?”
“Yes,” Eunsook answered without taking her eyes off the screen.
Taemin sighed, sticking his hands to his waist.
“, he's not picking up.”
“Maybe he's taking a poop.”
“I need to be sure of it then.”
Eunsook put her phone back into her clutch and smoothed her ruffled hair. She looked at Taemin, and his disappointed expression made her feel a bit guilty.
“I'll see you later,” she promised, pecking him on the mouth one last time. “By the way, you have my lipstick on your lips.”
“I hope it suits me 'cause that's all you're leaving me with.”
Eunsook chuckled.
“You do have a pretty mouth, you know.”
“Can I drop by your house after the party?” the man asked, pouting.
“Do you think I'm an easy girl?!”
“I sincerely hope so, since I am a very easy boy... You are right for me and I am right for you, so what's the point in beating around the bush.”
“This is the most wonderful thing a man has ever said to me,” Eunsook confessed, touched to the core of her soul.
“Then kiss me again.”
But she shook her head and set her hand free gently.
“Adieu.”
Taemin sighed again.

She had just begun climbing the stairs when she saw her boss himself, walking down, slowly, completely stripped of his brisk persona, with his hand sliding down the railings as he descended. He looked exhausted.
“No need to call me anymore,” he said before his assistant could utter a word. “I'm turning myself in to the authorities.”
“But where've you... Did you...” Eunsook began, her eyes flickering worriedly between Kibum's face and the staircase as if she was expecting someone else to appear.
“Yes, Eunsook. I have made my mistake.”
The girl raised her eyes to the ceiling, her lips pursed. Kibum placed his hand on her shoulder as he approached her. “Don't blame yourself. If you hadn't gone to the bathroom I would've found another excuse to send you away.”
“But why?”
“Some people are addicted to meaningless suffering and are incapable of learning their lessons.”
“What lesson did you not learn? Apart from not overdressing?” Taemin's voice asked from below.
He was standing with his head leaned against the wall.
“The one of not being in love,” Kibum answered, hugging Eunsook as they took the stairs down together. “Now take me home, dear. I want to sleep.”
When they passed Taemin, he caught a strand of the girl's long hair and let it slip through his fingers.
“I'll call you, queen,” he whispered.
Eunsook smiled, giving him one last glance over her shoulder.
Taemin didn't leave. He closed his eyes and waited for the footsteps and the echoes they created to fade away. He had had too much alcohol, and his whole body felt meek and heavy, like a jelly dessert that had been frozen. He was drifting off when the sound of other footsteps made him open his eyes. Jinki appeared on the staircase, looking just like Kibum had a minute before. Crushed.
Taemin blinked, watching him walk down the stairs.
“I'm happy to see your face again, somehow,” he said, sounding surprised.
“Why?” Jinki asked in a faded voice.
Taemin shrugged.
“I don't know... Something... something's just...” He was looking at his former bandmate in some kind of mesmeration. He struggled to understand what exactly he was seeing, but, failing to do so, just shook it off. “Nevermind. Just drunken fancies.”

“It's raining,” Eunsook remarked, looking out of the car window.
There were dozens of vehicles on the road, their windshield wipers on, the back lights shining red through the darkness of the night like some ghostly creatures' eyes. They were stuck and beeping impatiently, adding to the concern she felt for her boss and friend.
It was only natural that he wasn't inclined to talk at the moment, pondering over everything that had happened that night, whatever it was, but Eunsook was afraid of his silence. She knew how deep he could sink into dejection and how hard it was to draw him out of it.
Kibum gave her a side glance.
“Just ask what you wanna ask.”
Eunsook cleared , mustering up courage.
“Did you talk to him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him that you... that...” she faltered.
“That I still have feelings for him? Yes.”
“Did you realize that tonight?”
Eunsook finally dared to look at her boss. His face was turned towards the window on his side of the car. He was sitting still, like a statue – almost the same as he had been on their way here. And yet the situation was so different now! Even for her, too – a new, very good-looking person had entered her life right at the moment when she was finally at peace with herself and stopped considering singleness a problem. But Kibum...
What did he lose? What did he gain?
“No. I was always aware of them,” he replied, playing idly with the rings on his hands.
“But what did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“Not a word?”
“There was nothing for him to say, I guess.”
Kibum was saying it as if he had simply accepted it – the fact that the feelings he had cherished for so long had been only met with a numb silence.
“But... what did he say that time, seven years ago? I never heard the complete story...”
“Well... I left before he could say anything,” Kibum answered. “I was a coward.”
Eunsook's mouth opened in astonishment as the tragedy of the whole situation became evident to her. “It's been torturing you all these years... You… you ran away...” the girl's voice shook, and Kibum bit his lip to not give in to the coming tears, but it was useless. He was too much in pain to be able to command his feelings.
“Don't be sorry for me, Eunsook,” he pleaded, sniffling. “It's better to love and suffer than to be free and uninspired.”
Eunsook nodded. Mascara-stained tears were already rolling down her face.
“You drunken fool,” her boss sighed and wrapped his arm around her. The girl put her head on his shoulder.
“You're one to talk,” Eunsook muttered.
Kibum laughed quietly.
The cars were stuck, and normally he would've thrown a fit about it because he hated waiting, but now he didn't mind it at all – the sound of the windshield wipers working, the raindrops streaking down the windows, the feeling of being nowhere, away from the stress of movement and talk. He was falling asleep.
And Eunsook was staring into emptiness and hoping for only one thing – for a miracle, some wonderful resolve that her boss, her friend Kim Kibum surely deserved after everything he had had to go through. Now was the moment when she was more than willing to forgive his capricious temper, as she knew that it was only a cover for the tender heart hidden beneath.

The sound of Kibum's ringtone woke her up.
“Why aren't you picking up,” she murmured, not moving.
“It's just Jonghyun. Calling to swear at me for leaving without saying goodbye.”
“How do you know if you haven't checked.”
“I just do.”
“Maybe it's not him.”
“I don't care who it is. I'm not feeling social.”
“But it could be important.”
“Don't care,” Kibum repeated.
No, he was annoying and nothing could ever change it.
Eunsook tore her eyes open with an exasperated groan. They were still stuck in the damn traffic jam. She must've drifted off for just a few minutes.
She turned to Kibum and put her hand into the pocket of his jacket. Not there.
“I hope it's not in your pants,” she muttered, making Kibum chuckle.
The girl reached for the pocket on the other side, and found the ringing phone there. She swiped the screen and pressed it to her ear. Her eyelids were drooping again.
“This is the phone of the drunk fashion designer Kim Kibum, and I am Lee Eunsook, his drunk assistant... Do you have a message for him or something? Please speak in short, coherent sentences and make pauses inbetween.”
“Can I speak to Kibum? Please.”
“Sorry, but that depends on who you are.”
The caller's reply must've had a sobering effect on her, because she sat up, wide-awake, and all of her sluggishness was gone in a second.
“Oh, Mr. Lee?” Kibum's eyes flew open. “He's sitting right next to me. I'll pass the phone to him right now… Don't go anywhere!” she added agitatedly, just to make sure.
Eunsook elbowed Kibum and mouthed “It's him” as she passed him the phone.
He stared at the name on the screen.
“Come on, don't wait!” Eunsook whispered.
Kibum finally answered, a frown of disbelief creasing his forehead.
“Um, yes?... Jinki?... No, we haven't made it to the bridge yet.”
She was watching him anxiously as he listened to whatever his friend was telling him, but then, realizing that it was somewhat unethical at such a sensitive moment, turned to the window, her heart fluttering. Kibum wasn't saying much, and when she couldn't see him, it was hard to guess what was going on.
In the end, Kibum made a sound – a sound that took her by surprise. He laughed.
Eunsook gave him what was meant to be a furtive look, but her eyes lingered on his face. His cheeks had turned a faint hue of pink, and he was covering his mouth with his hand. His eyes were glistening. Eunsook had never seen him so... happy?
“But... Are you sure about it?” Kibum asked softly, and apparently the other replied that he was. “But why were you so quiet?… Oh, Jinki, Jinki...” he shook his head. “We are both fools... But time is never lost and never gained, it just goes by... What stays is important.”
Eunsook smiled and settled back again, feeling both relieved and a bit confused, but the latter didn't matter to her at all – as long as she could see the impossible man sitting next to her with that bashfully blissful expression.
“Where are you now?.. Oh, really? I'll get out now, wait just a moment,” Kibum said, unfastening his seatbelt.
He was excited and nervous, in a best way possible, and his hands were not obeying him well. Before stepping out of the car, he looked at Eunsook – his eyes telling more than his words ever could. The pieces of his broken heart were falling in place.
“Will you be okay?” he asked softly, and the girl nodded, smiling.
“Please, be happy, Kibum,” she added, and he held her hand for a moment.
“You too, Eunsook... Also, Taemin is a very sweet guy, you'll see.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, just let him space out from time to time, don't put him in charge of anything, and you'll be fine.”
Eunsook laughed.
“Got it.”
Kibum stepped out on the wet asphalt and shivered, because it was still drizzling.
“Goodnight,” he said before shutting the door.
“Goodnight.”
Eunsook opened her compact and looked at her reflection. Her makeup was ruined.
“Another crazy day, huh?” she thought aloud.
“You bet,” the driver replied. “Still going to Gangnam?”
“Sure.”
Eunsook began fixing her makeup and a couple of minutes passed in silence.
“Do you know what we used to call SHINee in highschool?”
“What?” Her voice sounded a bit weird because she had opened to apply mascara on the lower lashes.
“GAYnee.”
Eunsook flinched as she poked herself in the eye.
“Amazing,” she grumbled, making the man laugh.

“Oh!”
Kibum screwed his eyes shut, feeling the cold raindrops rushing onto his face. When he opened them again, all he saw were headlights, their glow blinding him in the darkness. He started moving along the row of  cars, in which frustrated drivers were muttering curses and beeping, hugging himself to keep warm, because he was too agitated to button his Dior coat up.
Had that call actually happened? Had he heard Jinki say the words that were almost like an echo of his past hopes and prayers, only vivid and powerful in their realness?
I must be dreaming, for sure. It cannot be true.
But then he saw him, with wet hair, his chest heaving up and down under his coat, coming towards him with a look in which hope and self-deprecating longing were mixed. And he was shining with a glow that was brighter than car lights, or neon signs, or even the stars themselves - the glow of a lover, ageless and hurrying towards the future where all scars would heal, and all tears would be joyful. And even if bliss would only be momentary, mixed into the commonplace reality as it always is, the faith and the confidence of that dazzling moment were the things that mattered the most.
When there were only a few steps dividing them, the two men stopped, looking at each other.
The soft features of Jinki's face looked even more gentle now, as he was standing there, completely open, completely unguarded.
“I'm sorry,” Kibum read from his lips.
He smiled. He had cast his barricades away, too.
“Don't be.”
Jinki slowly crossed the distance between them and folded the other man in his arms. Kibum pressed his face into his neck, trembling with tears. The other his wet hair tenderly.
“I'm sorry I lied to you and everyone. I was scared of the truth I knew all along... I love you too, Bummie. I love you.”