If there is one thing I can truly hold for the rest of my life, I would wish for passion. As Jongin hums another piece of his favourite musical piece, Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky, I stare outside of the world from the window of a black Buick my father bought several years ago. My father is driving us for the first day of high school, bobbing his head off to Sinatra's Fly Me to The Moon. What a combination of music for such a scorching morning.

In addition to their light hearted souls, my head feels clear and light for such a new start in a new high school. I got into Department of Music while Jongin got into Department of Theathre and Film. It was expected from our parents that we would be interested in it as our whole life revolves around these passionate little things. My father taking us to school is simply him wanting to see of his sons, an emotional trait of his which occasionally warms me in my coldness to the reality surrounding me.

Looking back, I wonder what had happened to make me turn into this kind of empty, wretched person. Turning to look at Jongin, I look at all the possibiities that I can't achieve, the very representation of the best version of the both of us. There was never a time where our parents did not love us, our days are b with love and dreams at home with our parents spooning us with the possibilities that we can be anything we want to be. Straying off the path without my parents noticing was never my intention, but there are times where something beneath me takes over the chain of command in my head and all of the sudden, I become the very being I loathe. 

"Snap out of it, pretty boy," Jongin snaps his fingers in front of me, looking at me with that bright smile of his that knocks the poor girls by the knees. "It's the first day at school, at least show that you are enthusiastic."

"I am enthusiastic," my voice comes out listless and sarcastic in my ears, Jongin probably hears and sees with the blank look I wear. It feels so strange getting into something that is completely unchained from my past that I feel quite thrilled and unhinged enough that I don't know what to feel. I fear and look forward to the things waiting in front of me.

Jongin snickers and slings an arm around me, patting me by the shoulder in the process. "Don't worry so much, you should loosen up for real here. You 'll meet lots of people whose interests are so alike with you," his words remind me a little of my friends who have not been contacting me, except of Tzuyu, occasionally coming to my house for things I don't wish to recall that I ended up pushing her away. We were too young for such things that I wish never happened so soon.

Jongin bending his head to the crook of my neck feels like such a fond memory where we were inseparable before our interests drove us to different paths, where we were, perhaps, not even born to this world and had only known each other inside our mother's womb. "You'll be free once you found those you can dream with."

I sigh, knowing Jongin's dreamy and hopeful words always lift my expectations of the world, which makes me feel light and heavy at the same time. The world has never been that kind to me in human relationships. "Let's hope so."

"I'm sure you'll blend well at school. Not even blend well, I bet my handsome sons will stand out even more!" Father beams and I can only get flustered while Jongin replies with a "Of course, Dad!" with ten exclamation marks in his voice because whenever he is fully charged like this, he can't tone down the excitement in his tone. 

In the words of my brother whose ability to understand me without needing me to reach into him, I find comfort in the slightest possibility that whatever things I wish to come true, won't stay as mere dreams in this school.

Popularity is the bane of the past few years filled with superficiality and hedonism. This is something I shamefully have to admit because even when I indulged myself savoring of those very moment, looking back makes me feel pitiful at myself for being so happy over moments that cause happiness for only that momentary moment. The thrill and chill only lasted until we step out of those dim lighted spaces, covered in thick scented perfume and alcohol. Nothing stayed after that, only a sense of emptiness that climbed down my th