Part One—Present time…

“Good evening, dear listeners. Tonight again, I am your host, Kim Jongin. As the temperature lowers, the warmth and nostalgia of youth and first love is so ever perfervid.”

Pressing his throbbing head against his car headrest, he listened to the radio host’s warm, soothing voice. “First Greatest Love: Love That Makes You Tremble when it is Recalled. The popular late night radio program will now start. Thank you to all the listeners for sending in your love stories. We will now be receiving calls.”

“Love stories,” he muttered, reaching for his water bottle. Opening the bottle he choked down a large mouthful and swallowed too hard, hurting the base of his throat. His head wouldn’t relent. He might have cried too much.

Sighing, he pressed his head against the car wheel and listened to the rich, thick calming voice of the female singer as she spouted lyrics about her yearning for her lover. The lyrics, nor the emotions she put in her voice, didn’t resonate with him. She would never understand, he thought bitterly.

“We’re back with our first caller,” the host announced with excitement.

Closing his eyes, he listened to the timid voice of the caller. Four minutes of conversation. The caller recounted his first love, the summer of his third year of high school, while Jongin would interrupt periodically with little comment of encouragement.

All it burnt down to was four minutes. Three years of yearning, loving with everything, and just four minutes to recall it all and recount it. Something of the past.

Getting out of his car, feeling caged in, he closed the door with a loud bang. He walked toward the sidewalk of the bridge. Throwing his arm over the cold metals, he stared into the calm water. There weren’t any stars out tonight, he notice when he tilted his head back to take in the night sky. Nothing like those starless nights.

A perfect night to sleep.

“Not beautiful at all,” he laughed cynically. “Even at the last moment it is not going my way.”

Folding his arms, he slid his cheek against the rough cloth of his sweater. “I should let go.”

Reaching inside his coat, he thumbed his smart phone. He stared at the blank screen for a few seconds, biting his full bottom lip before he spun on his heels and raced back to his car. Opening the door, he dropped on the driver’s seat without closing the it, letting out all of the hot air, and listened to the radio-host's deep, rich vibrato, as he hummed “Please. Please.” He wanted the host to announce the program number.

“In the end you two broke up?” The host let out a soft, evocative laugh after his comment.

“Due to our differences,” the caller, a woman, replied in a tender, ambient voice. “It was what was the best for us. Last time I saw him, I learned that he was getting married. I am happy for him. He loves her and she loves him.”

“What about you?” Jongin asked her about her own love life.

The frustrated man cussed and flopped against the car seat. He would have to wait till she was over and they went into a long, stupid commercial break before he could hear the phone number.

“Let’s use the web,” he mutter, realizing how slow he was being. "Of course, the web!" Typing in the title of the program, he grinded, his cheeks muscles hurting from the clench and motion of his teeth. “The reason you’re paying for this stupid phone.”

That wasn’t the sole reason. However, the most important reason he was paying for his phone didn’t matter much when he hadn’t talk to anyone in days now. Did anything matter right now? No, nothing mattered but stopping this ache.

His hands trembled when he read the black, meticulous numbers and repeated them over and over in his head as he got out of the page and quickly punched it in his phone before he could forget. Only remembering copy and pasting after he had manually done it.

Should he do it? He wondered? Should he really call and bare his heart to the whole nation? The program was popular. A lot of people listened to it, when they were coming from work, at home over watching TV.  

Would anyone he know be listening and hear his voice?

Would that person be listening?

“We selected the perfect song for our last caller's love. Enjoy this song while we pick up the next caller,” the host breathed and the song softly replaced him.

“You are listening to the radio?” He walked in the hotel room with his cousin, Kim Junsu, lying on the bed listening to the radio.

The male tilted his dark head back and smiled at his friend. “Yeah.” Junsu grinned at the stygian-haired male that was drying his hair with a small black towel.

“It’s a fun program. Come listen with me.”

“I have to." He sighed good naturedly. “I am sleeping in this room tonight.”

“True.” The man grinned at his freshly showered cousin.

Lying on his bed, Junsu listened to the music and rustling sound of the male moving around the hotel room, getting dressed.

“Shss!” He hushed at his cousin, a finger up as the music ended and the host came back on the air. “We are now back. I hope you all are still with us. We will now be picking up a new caller. Let’s hope for a happy ending.” His chuckle was as calming and tender as the whole pretext of the program was.

“I am quiet,” the male remarked, throwing the wet towel around his neck and gripped the ends.

“Now you’re not." Junsu raised an eyebrow at him. “Let’s listen to this in peace—” He stopped talking, his jaw dropping when the caller started to talk. He snapped up into a sitting position and looked at his equally as shock cousin. “Should I—”

“No!” He bellowed, stopping his concerned cousin from stopping the stream. “I want to...I want to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. Sliding down on the floor, he quieted down and closed his eyes. Face etched in a barely restrained pain.

The previous night, over numerous bottles of soju, he had told Junsu everything. He had come clean—not that it helped elevate the pain or take away the crushing guilt. He was not even sure he wanted to stop hurting because as long as it burned, he knew that his heart beat, he and his feelings were still alive, and knew the face that would be in his dreams. He cherished that face and those feelings.

He would not mind it being like that forever.

The host welcomed the new speaker. “We’re happy to have you with us tonight.”

“I cannot really say I am as happy.” The man on the other line laughed softly and so did the host.

“And, why is that?”

“Once you hear the story you will know the reason why.”

“Ah, I see. Well then, shall we start?”

“Yeah.” He laughed again. It sounded forced and sad. “It's long. So long." He sighed.

"We love a nice, long love story. It hints of a good ending."

There was a pause.

"Dear caller, are you—"

"Yes. I'm still here. Your statement....It's just...funny. That's all."

"How so?"

"We met our last year of university.”

Writer’s Note: Thank you for subbing to this fic. I hope you enjoy the first update. I’ll update really soon. If you have anything to share, please drop me an appreciated comment.