It’s 2am and Ilhoon is hungry, so Sungjae is cooking ramen.

“You know sometimes I question whether you’re really half a year older than me when you can’t even cook yourself some supper.” Sungjae says as he pours the pack of seasoning into the pot of piping hot ramen.

“I thought we dropped formalities anyways,” Ilhoon half shouts from the living room. “And also, you make better ramen than I do.”

Sungjae cautiously brings the ramen to the dinner table and Ilhoon jumps from over the couch, eyes already set on the food. It’s nothing too extravagant, but for a simple midnight supper, Ilhoon is satisfied with what Sungjae has prepared. For a roommate 5 months younger than he is, Sungjae takes care of Ilhoon far better than it works the other way round. But it has been at least 3 years since they moved in together and the roles never really changed since then.

“Oh yeah the photos from today,” Sungjae recalls and reaches into his backpack to grab a few polaroids. “Which one do you want in the scrapbook?”

Ilhoon moves the photos around and scrutinizes the details. “Well, I look like in these 3, look, I barely have my eyes opened because of the sunlight,” he says as he tosses the 3 photos aside and reaches to pick up another one. “I think both of us look best in this one.” Ilhoon tosses the polaroid to Sungjae, who nods his head in agreement.

The two have been scrapbooking ever since their first actual “date” out. At first Ilhoon was against it. He thought it was too cheesy a practice for two guys, who are often just throwing insults at each other, and he never really had a thing for keeping track of photos or memories anyways, but Sungjae was so persistent on the idea, so he eventually gave in. Anyone who knows Ilhoon would know he has a soft heart for the rare times Sungjae demands for specific things.

To be truthful enough, though Ilhoon started off scrapbooking with Sungjae hesitantly and unwillingly, as time goes and with every next page they fill up, he too, starts putting the routine to action himself. Even at certain times when Sungjae forgets, Ilhoon makes sure to bring it up indirectly, since scrapbooking has practically become a habit for the both of them.

--

[11:02pm] Ilhoon: hey… are we missing out something from today?

[11:02pm] Sungjae: Jung Ilhoon it’s 11pm what are you even doing awake at this hour

[11:04pm] Ilhoon: no I just remembered about the scr… scrapbook hah…

[11:05pm] Sungjae: lmao you’re up this late just to remind me about this… I guess you’re starting to like scrapbooking anyways, no?

[11:09pm] Ilhoon: what… no!!!!

[11:09pm] Sungjae: yeah yeah… go to sleep, I’ll put the photos in tomorrow :)

---

Now Sungjae decides it is about time. For the 3 years that he had spent together with Ilhoon, he is almost sure of what he is feeling. Now what is left is to make that first move. Sungjae knows Ilhoon enough to know how he isn’t one to take initiatives, neither is he very expressive. Therefore, there are still many things about Ilhoon Sungjae isn’t sure of, but if there’s one thing he is sure of, it is that he loves Ilhoon. Sungjae himself isn’t the best with expressing emotions, but he takes a bet this time because he was prepared to start off something new with Ilhoon.

But he wasn’t prepared for a rejection.

Because they’ve shared laughter, tears, frustrations and fears. Everything.  They shared each other’s happiness and made the best out of their celebrations. They shared each other’s sorrows and poured out their worries whilst always in the comforting embrace of the other. They shared each other’s ups and downs, like the fitting pieces of a puzzle. They were each other’s support.

But there were still many things about Ilhoon that Sungjae wasn’t sure of.  And he knew the least of what meant the most to Ilhoon.

And he wasn’t prepared for a rejection.

---

Like any other coffee date, they got their favorite beverages at the café across the street from their apartment. Ilhoon lightly sips on his iced coffee and on the other hand, Sungjae’s feet are tapping on the wooden floors of the café, as he nervously crafts out his plans inside of his head. He doesn’t even notice he had not touched his latte for a full 15 minutes after it had been served, until a waiter reminded him. His eyes were shifting around and it was pretty obvious he was anxious. Fortunately for him, Ilhoon was looking out the shop window, so he wasn’t paying much attention to Sungjae anyways.

They finish up the last sip of their drinks, and they head outside.

The autumn breeze was soothing and the scent of fallen leaves made it perfect for a walk alongside the streets of the small town of the neighborhood. “Are we heading to the well?” Ilhoon takes the lead and Sungjae follows.

There wasn’t anything significant about the well. Nothing figurative either, just a plain old well, the thing made of stones with the bucket and the water. But for some reason the first time Sungjae and Ilhoon had come across it, they started an unplanned routine. Every once in a while they visit the well; they toss a coin and make a wish. Not like anyone actually made wishes at that well, in fact they discovered the well while only a few cups worth of water was in it, and the bucket was missing from the torn rope, which explained why nobody went to the well anymore. It was just purely out of fun. And also of course another one of the many things Ilhoon was dragged along to do with Sungjae.

---

“Tell me why we are actually doing this stupid thing again?” Ilhoon looks at the well with doubts.

“Come on, just for fun, make a wish!” the look on Sungjae’s face was just endearing to Ilhoon, so on the outside he seems to reluctantly play along but on the inside he is smiling like he’s crazy.

“I wish… I’ll strike the lottery!” Ilhoon exclaims and he tosses the coin into the well and watched as it hit the bottom of the well.

“What kind of typical wish… my turn.” Sungjae takes a step forward and clutches the coin tightly between his palms. He makes a wish inside his mind and tosses the coin.

“You aren’t going to tell me your wish?” Ilhoon raises an eyebrow as Sungjae turns to face him.

“Time will tell, besides, I like making my wishes this way.” Sungjae grins and he skips off. Sometimes Ilhoon wonders why he is this close to someone who was always so full of quirks.

---

“I wish Sungjae would cook me ramen all day.” Ilhoon wishes outwardly as he tosses, as usual, a silver coin into the well. Just like always, his wishes remain short and clear cut, sometimes a little too dense in Sungjae’s opinion.

“I… this time I’ll make my… wish out loud,” Sungjae is stuttering, he catches Ilhoon completely by surprise with what he says. Sungjae is holding a gold coin, one that stood out unusually, and distinctively different from the usual silver coins they tossed into the well.

“To be honest… the wishes I have been making… since we started this… had always been the same… and it’s still the same” Sungjae’s voice is shaking, and Ilhoon senses he is nervous. He too, starts to feel uneasy.

“I wish I can find someone I truly love… someone like… you, Ilhoon.” Sungjae forces his eyes shut and tosses the gold coin, hearing it hit the pile of the other wish-carrying coins. By this time his heart is racing at an insane speed and he’s trying hard to control his breathing. The butterflies in his stomach were going at rapid speeds, and the churning made him feel slightly dizzy. He gathers enough courage to turn towards Ilhoon, eyes still closed.

Ilhoon is stunned; he feels his whole body stiffen. He caught the first few words thinking how adorable Sungjae was for trying that hard to keep such an embarrassing wish. Must be that high school senior, Changsub, the close friend Sungjae always talked to Ilhoon about while they were classmates in the same high school. Or the girl that transferred into his class mid-term while he was taking further studies in a university in Australia, and how Sungjae went on and on about how beautiful she was and how everyone fell in love with her.

But when he hears his name escape Sungjae’s lips, he instantly freezes. He has no idea how to react and a sense of fear grows in him. The word love was foreign to him, and it felt more like a threat than a sign of affirmation.

Sungjae’s eyes blink open, and he catches that look of fear in Ilhoon’s eyes. He wasn’t sure of how to read the meaning behind it, but it wasn’t in any way the response he had expected. Ilhoon still had his feet rooted to the ground, and his pupils were shifting in all directions, he seemed confused.

“Are you… okay?” Sungjae’s concerned that Ilhoon was looking as if he was about to collapse. For now, he put his confession on hold, and he reaches a hand out to Ilhoon.

But Ilhoon shuns away, “No… I… No I have to…” Ilhoon is pressurized after the sudden confession, and he no longer felt comfortable around Sungjae. He had no response to Sungjae’s show of affection. He was genuinely afraid. Ilhoon doesn’t say a word more; he took to his heels and ran.

He was aware that he was escaping, he was aware that he just left Sungjae hanging, he could only imagine the look of sorrow on Sungjae’s face, but at that point in time, Ilhoon had no other way out. For the first time in a long while, he was confronted with the word “love”, something so unfamiliar and terrifying to him. His past was shadowing over him, and he was running as fast as he could away from it, back to the apartment.

---

“If only you didn’t spend all of your time out of the house you would know what the kids need!”

“I’m trying my best to work hard and feed this family… I don’t have time for this so just give me a ing break!”

8-year-old Ilhoon is crouching down, behind his room door, and he hears everything that’s going on outside of his safe haven. Things were being thrown, knocked down, broken, and Ilhoon is afraid to even move an inch. He knows situations have never been the best in the household, but that night, the argument was way beyond the usual bicker. Tear streaks marked his whole face, his eyes were swollen, and he’s trying hard not to sniffle in case anyone barges in. It was only about 2 weeks later one night, when he hears what sounds like rolling wheels being dragged across the floors of the hallway; a slam of the main door, and complete silence.

“You’re… coming with me…”

“Where’s Mummy going...” he felt he shouldn’t have asked.

“…Elsewhere.”

Living the bulk of his childhood without experiencing love, it was natural Ilhoon grew up to be unable to properly express or receive love. Instead of yearning for love as he grew up, he shunned away and he never knew how to react. The distrust that he had from the failure of his family easily transcended as time goes and his insecurities were growing inside of him. The failure of his parents’ marriage shattered all his perspectives on love, and he no longer believed in it. But ever since after his university days, when he started living with Sungjae, he was never confronted with any form of “love” anymore. Of course while he was schooling, rejection was easy since he barely engages with anyone to form close relationships, since he was well aware of what hinders him. But Sungjae was someone who he had always considered comfortable with since their high school days. But all of sudden, situations take a massive turn and Ilhoon has no idea how to react.  He is taken aback, and extremely scared.

Because as much as he knew he needed to back away, a part of him pushes him forward.

Ilhoon has no idea where this driving force is coming from, because he had been faced with a situation like this before, and it wasn’t ever this hard. He doesn’t even remember enough from the encounters he had with others girls or guys who showed interest in him, he’s just sure enough he rejected them bluntly without much concern.

But this time it’s different, he’s being faced with someone he has trusted his feelings with for years, someone who has seen him through tons of his ups and downs, and someone who meant so much to him. He wasn’t prepared to lose Sungjae, but he was least prepared to accept his love.

--

“Ilhoon please… open the door…” Sungjae’s banging both fists on Ilhoon’s room door. He had locked himself up in there for the past 2 hours after running back to the apartment, and Sungjae is left feeling extremely worried from the silence. He’s pretty much ready to knock this door down if he doesn’t get a reply.

“At least let me know you’re in there… or if I should give you some time, I don’t know just talk to me!” by this time Sungjae is pleading for a response. Then he hears what sounds like a few muffled screams, then dead silence again.

 “Just… leave me alone…” he hears Ilhoon mumble, his voice was shaky and unstable.

Silence again.

Sungjae steps back, he takes this as rejection. It’s clear enough Ilhoon isn’t in the mood for any negotiations or talk, and Sungjae is trying his best to find a balance between that sharp, excruciating pain in his chest and giving Ilhoon the peace of mind he wants. He doesn’t notice his eyes are welling up, and his hands are shaking. It’s frustrating because he hasn’t gotten any answers, but he is already beaten down. What is going through Ilhoon’s mind? Why is he reacting this way? What is his answer? Tons of questions are clouding up Sungjae’s thoughts and it feels stuffy and suffocating.

With Ilhoon’s personality, he could have easily said no and went on as if nothing happened, which was what Sungjae had in mind of what a rejection would seem like. Why’d he run?

--

Ilhoon jolts awake in the middle of the night. It is 3am, he feels the tears from the day before that had dried on the whole of his face, and he is lying face down on his bed, feeling absolutely terrible. The state of confusion that he had left himself in is still lingering in him, and he hates that he’s awake to feel it all again. His mind is cluttered with that same scene by the well, those same words Sungjae spoke, and that same anxiety that instantly engulfed his entire being when the words escaped Sungjae’s lips. He is being taunted by every existing image of Sungjae, and he hates to admit the guilt he feels towards Sungjae.

He is itching to clear things up, but a huge part of him says he can’t help it.

He’s being controlled by emotions he never knew existed. That ability to love and feel loved, to accept another’s feelings and to receive and reciprocate love; Ilhoon knows none of it. So he’s feeling challenged, and he’s afraid.

Ilhoon gets up. He figures he needs to see how Sungjae is doing, most likely not anywhere near okay, and a sense of guilt and pain creeps over Ilhoon.

Ilhoon tries his best to make as little noise as possible; he doesn’t want unneeded attention by waking Sungjae up right now. He sets his hand on the knob of Sungjae’s room door, he’s hesitating. He gathers enough courage, takes a deep breath, and as silently as he can manage to, he opens the door.

The bed’s empty, Sungjae’s nowhere to be seen.

--

I decided you need some time alone, and with me being around, I’m afraid we’ll never be able to get things back to where they were before.

I know leaving you a note before packing up and leaving, without discussing or informing you in any way beforehand can be read as entirely rude, but I predict from the years we have spent together this would be more comfortable for you, isn’t it?

I don’t know how and why things came to this point, but I’m hoping distance really would make our hearts grow fonder. I’m not asking for answers; I just hope you’ll be okay. Maybe I’m not the one you need at this point in time, so for now I’ve moved in with Changsub. Even you should know he’s a great guy, things will be fine here.

I’ve left reminders around the apartment for you, you don’t have to take them as parts of me I left behind, I was just hoping I could play a part in helping you out, though I still have no idea what you really need right now.

Let me know when you’ll need me, I’m trying my best to wait with a heart at ease.

-Sungjae

The note was left with the incomplete scrapbook the both of them had been working on for the past few years. If they couldn’t create memories of the present, at least they had those of the past to look back on. For some reason the letter felt so empty, like it was written with unreturned love, for the umpteenth time Ilhoon feels that same piercing stab in his chest. He feels bad for hurting someone who just constantly tries to make things comfortable between them. He feels guilty for not being able to give Sungjae the love he deserves to get.

---

Ilhoon returns to his room, feeling dreadfully broken. A part of him is backing away from Sungjae to prevent another oncoming panic attack, but another part of him is screaming “What have you done?” Either ways he knows Sungjae is a victim of his actions; just that Ilhoon himself is being bounded by a mental barrier in him, and it wouldn’t budge. He lies helplessly on the empty bed, and that’s when he caught sight of a yellow sticky note on the ceiling above him. The ceiling’s low enough so he can read what’s written on the sticky note.

Even if it’s hard, don’t lay here all day! Go out and get some fresh air…

He recognizes the handwriting and Ilhoon guesses these are the “reminders” Sungjae referred to. He usually can’t be bothered by Sungjae’s gimmicks but this time round they seemed more meaningful. He forces himself up from his messed up bed, even though he had plan to stay put there for the rest of the day.

He drags himself to the bathroom and he immediately catches sight of another sticky note on the mirror.

Even if it’s hard, you look ugly when you’re sulking, so heads up, and smile!

Now Ilhoon’s trying hard not to choke up tears; it’s funny how he’s feeling something from random sticky notes that are trying to tell him what to do, considering he was never someone who’d take just any sort of advice. He’s taking a good look at himself in the mirror. He looks exhausted, his eyes half closed, hair disheveled, lips cracked. Come to think of it, this is the worst he has looked ever since the incident with Sungjae. And he still regrets everything he said that day.

He walks over to the kitchen counter, spotting another sticky note.

Even if it’s hard, you can’t go hungry right? Make yourself some food, it isn’t that hard.

Ilhoon remembers how he always had Sungjae to cook something up for him, he’d shout across the room that he’s hungry and instantly Sungjae’s moving pots and pans to prepare a snack for him. Ilhoon kind of misses how Sungjae would be there to nag at him for being so dependent, even though he was the older one.

“You know sometimes I question whether you’re really half a year older than me when you can’t even cook yourself some supper.” Sungjae’s voice resonates in Ilhoon’s mind; he remembers clearly the way Sungjae speaks and suddenly, he senses how empty it is in the apartment.

He’s lived in here for years, but this is the first time Ilhoon misses how it used to be with Sungjae around. As much as he wants to bring things back to where they were, a part of him is saying he shouldn’t because he can’t. He is incapable of giving others love, so why bother trying when he knows he is bound to disappoint?

---

A week has passed and nothing much has changed. The sticky notes are still where they were, where Sungjae placed them. Ilhoon’s living every day in agony, but following the yellow slips of reminders helped him get past those days, not very productively though.

He hears his phone ring for the first time in ages. He’s slouched on the sofa on a Friday night, wondering if it would be a good idea to pick up the phone. He gazes at his phone screen to see who’s calling.

Changsub? Why would he call me out of the blue?

Ilhoon’s hesitating with the thought that it could be about Sungjae, but he answers the call anyway.

“Hello?” Ilhoon picks up the call.

“Hey Ilhoon, ugh I’m already breaking his terms after merely a week…” Changsub replies, sounding troubled.

“What are you talking about?” Ilhoon questions even though he knows where this conversation is heading.

“Uhh… Well you see, I made a deal with Sungjae not to contact you, but I can’t help it, watching him like this… Do you mind coming over to talk? Don’t worry Sungjae isn’t around, I just want to talk it out, I’ll try to be the middleman for you kids.” there’s a slight hesitation as Changsub speaks, as if he is second guessing himself.

Ilhoon pauses to think of a way to respond. He’s afraid and his heart is starting to race. He knows it hasn’t been all that good the past few days without Sungjae around, but he dreads a confrontation of the issue. He’s more prepared to shun away from the challenges, in this case, anything related to emotion has become a big deal for Ilhoon. He isn’t confident enough the same thing will not happen again, he isn’t sure if he’d be able to control his expressions and feelings. He misses Sungjae, that’s a fact, but he can’t guarantee he wouldn’t hurt him again by trying to solve the problem.

“You still there? I know it’s a little sudden, but give it a thought, it doesn’t have to be right now,” Changsub is waiting. Subsequently, Ilhoon makes a decision.

“I’ll drive over, give me 15 minutes.”

---

While driving, Ilhoon’s thinking. Many things are running through his mind. What pushed Changsub? He couldn’t have just been hit with the thought to talk something out with Ilhoon; there must be something behind it. How’s Sungjae? Is something terribly wrong, something so serious that he wants Ilhoon to fix? Ilhoon’s eyes are on the road, but his mind is floating elsewhere. He’s lucky enough he reaches Changsub’s apartment before he runs his car into something or even someone. By the time he gets on the lift, he’s practically jamming on the buttons.

He reaches out a finger to press on the doorbell, but he hesitates. His fingers curl to form a fist, and his nails are digging into his palm from clenching so forcefully. He’s thinking through his decision once more, and before he is given a chance to change his mind, he presses hard on the doorbell twice. Not long after, he hears footsteps coming towards the door, and Changsub peeks out to greet him.

---

“I’m sorry to call you up at such an ungodly hour, I’ll get you a glass of water, you can take a seat first.” Changsub says before he hurries into the kitchen. Ilhoon makes himself comfortable and sits himself down on one of the dining chairs. He takes a good look around the apartment. It’s nicely lit up, white on all four walls, the place is small but well-organized. Ilhoon guesses Sungjae could easily feel more at home here then he would in the mess of their messy apartment—well what used to be theirs.

His thoughts are interrupted when Changsub reappears, placing a glass of water on the table. He sits to face Ilhoon, there’s exhaustion and worry written on his face, Ilhoon recognizes it.

“So… are we going to talk or,” Ilhoon breaks the silence, speaking before he could adjust his tone.

Changsub laughs. “You are just as you were years ago in high school, I still remember,” The smile on face says he’s recalling the past. Ilhoon wasn’t the nicest of kids in high school, more accurately he was bad with creating social circles, just as he is now. Surprisingly enough he always had Sungjae around wherever he goes, considering how extroverted the other boy is.

Sungjae relied on Changsub as a senior a lot in high school, so Changsub got to see Ilhoon whenever Sungjae dragged him along. As much as Sungjae constantly talks about him, Ilhoon never opened up completely to the older boy.

“I’ll just get straight to the point then, since that’s probably what you rushed here for,” Changsub knows what Ilhoon is here for. “Sungjae speaks to me about you way more often than I’d be comfortable with, and I can tell from the way he texts or talks to me, and of course, from the way he came barging in my house crying that night too.” Changsub pauses and his eyes shift elsewhere to avoid Ilhoon’s stare.

Ilhoon is confused by the way Changsub’s voice softens, the way he’s hesitating, and it’s worrying him more than it should. “Say something I can understand.”

“Sungjae told me everything. I know you’re having it hard, but he isn’t having it any easier. Nothing like that has ever happened, the way he was tearing up uncontrollably when he came knocking on my front door, dragged along his baggage, heartbroken,” Changsub frowns as he speaks, as if he feels the pain like Sungjae does.

Ilhoon feels horrible, beaten down. Because he sees the mutual connection Changsub and Sungjae share. They share emotions, they have feelings; they know tears, they know smiles. Ilhoon knows none of it. Not anymore.

“I hope you know where I’m going with this,” Changsub looks up and he can tell Ilhoon’s still listening, because he nods slightly, now looking down. “Sungjae isn’t an expressive person, so I think this took him aback, he usually thinks twice before he shows himself to anyone. I can tell he loves you. A whole lot. I’m sure you do too.”

“So what… what do I do?”

Ilhoon came with no intentions to try and fix anything. He thinks he isn’t up for it. But all this while, Sungjae’s been showing nothing but an ideal side of him. Those sticky notes gave Ilhoon an image of a Sungjae who is strong, who is encouraging. He pictures that same old Sungjae who jokes around and throws casual insults. But all of that is shattered with just an image of Sungjae breaking down the moment he leaves his apartment, he is fragile, he is weak; he is nothing more than a human within his made-up exterior.

Ilhoon wants to say sorry. A million times over and over. He wants to take the blame, to say it’s all his fault. But the boy he meant for to hear these apologies is no longer by his side.

“Honestly, what’s holding you back?” Changsub asks genuinely. “Maybe I’m too oblivious, but how did all this start anyways? Why do you sound so, hesitant… when I’m sure you love Sungjae the way he—”

“No I don’t! I don’t because I can’t, I can’t look at him the way he looks at me!” with the sudden question, Ilhoon’s raising his voice at Changsub. He has never explained himself to anyone because he never felt the need to. He sits back down and holds himself back. There must be a better way to approach this.

The air is void of any voices, and the two are stuck in silence. It takes a while before Ilhoon takes in a deep breath, and he decides to speak. He has some explaining to do.

“It’s a social phobia… fear of intimacy… an anxiety disorder… I developed it since I was a child of a failed family, and nothing is helping me get past the fear of falling in love,” it’s the first time Ilhoon has ever spoken about his disorder to anyone, that person being Changsub makes it strangely less daunting. He’s speaking to someone who he isn’t close with, so he doesn’t sense any quick judgement, there’s no need to feel out of place. He calms down to continue.

“It sounds sketchy and fake but… it just stops me from being comfortable with anyone physically, I can’t receive or reciprocate love like anyone else can. Social interactions themselves are difficult enough, much less physical touch and intimacy. I can’t… love like everyone else can. I can’t love like Sungjae does for me, I don’t deserve it, I… I can’t keep it.”

Ilhoon doesn’t realize the streaks of tears down his cheeks and how the sleeves of his sweater are damp from him wiping his tears off. Changsub doesn’t speak and Ilhoon is grateful for that.

“So… what do I do? I just want to give it a try.”

More silence.

Changsub sorts his thoughts out before talking again, “He’s at the bar down the street now. He’s been going there the past week every day, getting himself drunk and all, which was mainly why I called you up. If you want to do something about this, bring him back while you’re at it too.” Changsub gets up to walk over to the couch, the talking has entirely tired him out and he just wants to stay comfortable while Ilhoon makes his decision. He’s heard enough from Ilhoon; he just wonders when’s the time Sungjae gets to hear those same words. Everything Ilhoon had said wasn’t meant for Changsub. It was all meant for Sungjae.

---

Ilhoon’s footsteps are heavy, it’s hard to drag his lifeless self with him, he’s emotionally exhausted. He hasn’t formulated what he would say or the words he would speak yet. The clenching in his abdomen where he used to feel butterflies is making it hard to breathe. It’s been a long while but he wants to get back to where he left off.

The bar is surprisingly empty, almost deserted. It seemed only people who knew the area well enough would drink here, or if anyone was having a bad day, unlike the usual chaotic and crazy mess. The place is stuffily quiet and Ilhoon can hear the beats of his heart going haywire. He is well aware this could only go two ways, and he’s praying with the little faith left in him that things will work out somehow. He gathers enough courage to take in a deep breath and step in.

It’s dimly lit in the bar and there’s only soft, slow jazz playing through the speakers. The place is small enough and Ilhoon instantly catches sight of him—head buried in his arms, lying dejectedly on the bar counter. He is slouched sideways, face turned away from Ilhoon’s direction. He looks nothing like Ilhoon would have ever pictured. The image of a once upbeat and bubbly Sungjae is entirely shattered, and it couldn’t hurt Ilhoon more to see this side of Sungjae. Ilhoon loves him, he always did, and he hates himself for dragging Sungjae down with him.

He takes cautious steps towards Sungjae, and he sees it. There is a tint of pink over his entire face, his eyes are shut and his hair is in a mess. He looks just like how Ilhoon remembers him; astonishingly beautiful. But his beauty holds sadness, the sadness that Ilhoon holds himself responsible for. Ilhoon doesn’t even notice how he’s reaching his hand out to Sungjae’s cheek, yearning to touch his face, to feel as if he can love again.

Sungjae’s eyelids fidget, but Ilhoon doesn’t budge. By the time Sungjae’s eyes have blinked open, Ilhoon’s eyes are welling up with tears. Time freezes in that moment and they only look to each other.

“Ch—Changsub? You’re so ing late… Are you going to just let me rot here or what…?” Ilhoon knows Sungjae’s too drunk, it’s obvious from the number of bottles strayed all over the bar counter. Ilhoon knows Sungjae’s alcohol tolerance, and he knows how Sungjae is when he gets himself wasted. Sungjae thinks he is Changsub.

There’s a moment of silence and Sungjae speaks again.

“I… I loved him like the ing I was… I loved him like I was crazy… I loved him…”

Ilhoon only starts to tear up more as he listens.

“He leaves me, but I can’t ever do the same…”

---5 years ago---

Like children with overflowing enthusiasm, like children with youth and hope, Ilhoon and Sungjae were at their prime during their high school days. They spent loads of time doing dumb together, messing around and playing pranks, fooling around and getting into fights. Everything was filled with pure innocence and they never fail to find simple joy in the little things they did.

That one time they messed up an art project together and had glue stuck in their hair, paint all over their faces and cut-up pieces of paper left all over the classroom floor. Undoubtedly, that was the same art project they failed. Or that one time they tried to cheat in a math test, passing fold-up paper cranes with formulas scribbled all over them—Sungjae’s weird idea to pass paper cranes instead of the slips of paper Ilhoon suggested. Undoubtedly they got caught, they couldn’t explain why it had to be paper cranes, but they could explain that they didn’t study. Or the other one time Sungjae put strawberry jam in Ilhoon’s peanut butter sandwich and Ilhoon almost threw up. You know I hate strawberry jam, you brat! Ilhoon laughs as he says, chasing Sungjae down the hallway. Undoubtedly, they got caught, and the discipline master put them in detention for two weeks straight.

But they did all those together, and just the joy of their relationship-like friendship kept them smiling all day after school. There were no worries and no weight of responsibilities, there was no need for words, no need for explanations.

They were contented, because their love had no rules.

---

“You aren’t leaving for good are you?”

“Nah, I’ll be done with my studies in university in no time, why? You’re going to miss me aren’t you?”

“Hah… why would I when we’ve known each other for so many years already, that just means I’ll see less of your dumb face and get to do things in college without you annoying me all the time,”

“Then why are you sulking?”

It’s the day before Sungjae departs for Australia for his further studies, nothing has changed. Still throwing insults, still happy to have each other’s company. They sit to face the ocean. Something about it is calming yet recharging. They are both lost in the sounds of the backwash of waves colliding with the shore, the way the wind breezes through their hair, and the dark night sky they both directed their gaze at.

They have so much to say to one another, but neither of them end up saying it.

“What’s on your mind?” Sungjae blurts out, gaze still fixated on the sky.

“If you’re thinking of some cheesy movie pick up line right now then scratch it; you know I’m bad at this.” Ilhoon doesn’t say what he intended to. He wants to say I’ll miss you, I love you, I have a problem. But he knows he’s incompetent, he knows he is incapable. So he makes his wild guess that Sungjae just wants to stay the way they are.

“You’re great at tons of other things, Jung Ilhoon…” Sungjae’s heart is screaming I love you, don’t you too? But he makes his only guess—There will come a time. And it will be great, wouldn’t it?

---

Now Ilhoon is certain he knows what he wants. He’s spent all these years denying himself of what he always yearned for; years of internal dialogue and self-assurance that Sungjae isn’t for him; years of I am happy with this friendship and he must be too. He can’t be busy wallowing in self-hatred and denial, neither can he bring himself to continue dragging Sungjae down just because of his unwillingness and discourage. He is afraid to love, but this time he longs to be in love, he wants to make a change.

Just don’t ever ing tell yourself you can’t do it, Jung Ilhoon.

[8:54pm] Ilhoon: I want to talk…

[8:57pm] Sungjae: hah… finally huh?

[8:57pm] Ilhoon: do you…

[9:02pm] Sungjae: what’s with the hesitation!

[9:03pm] Sungjae: I told you I would wait

[9:03pm] Ilhoon: usual place at 10

---

Ilhoon stands to face the ocean. It feels and looks just like it did 5 years ago. This time his heart is palpitating and his head is clouded with worry. But he finds it within him to be determined, he knows what he is here for.

He jumps a little when he feels two hands over his shoulders. Sungjae puts a jacket over him. He joins Ilhoon by his side and there’s the slight smile he gives, the way Ilhoon always remembered it to look like. The corners of his mouth curve upwards and his lips stretch thin, Ilhoon misses it so bad. He also misses the butterflies in his stomach, and now they wouldn’t go away. He catches himself plainly reminiscing and scanning Sungjae’s face.

“So this was how you took care of yourself the whole time I was gone? Letting yourself catch a cold like that,” This wasn’t the Sungjae on that Friday night. This wasn’t the same torn apart drunkard Ilhoon saw that night. Sungjae is trying his best to act like he did before, and he is good at it.

He is good at it until Ilhoon spots the way Sungjae’s eyes slowly shift downwards, how his gaze goes towards the ocean. They’ve been with each other for years now, there is nothing Ilhoon can’t pick out. The façade Sungjae is putting on isn’t fooling Ilhoon this time.

“I’m here to explain, but don’t worry, it’s because I want to.”

Sungjae gives Ilhoon a nod, he’s presuming a rejection. For the amount of time Ilhoon took to get to this stage, Sungjae has made tons of plans for himself already. He had weighed every possibility and every outcome and he has decided on many plans for himself, and for Ilhoon too.

“I… I have a disorder. Or had, or whatever. It’s a social phobia and I couldn’t… express myself to you the way I wanted to. There are tons of technicalities but to put it simply I… couldn’t love you. And I felt so ing sorry whenever I thought of the way I tore you apart. I fear intimacy, I get panic attacks, I start sweating and shaking when I’m close to someone, needless to say someone like you. Because I’ve always looked to you with the same intentions, but I had to hold myself back,”

Ilhoon pauses because Sungjae is tearing up. The feelings are mutual now, it feels just like how it has always been described to Ilhoon.

“But don’t get me wrong, I really love you, I really do. So what I’m saying is we do this together, I can’t possibly pull myself together without knowing it’s for you—”

“Then why’d you wait this long to tell me,” Sungjae finally speaks again, there’s a sense of frustration in the way his voice is shaking.

“What do you mean—”

“We could’ve done something about it together! We could have fixed everything I could have been there for you this whole ing time! Why’d you wait this long to tell me when you knew I’d understand it all!” Sungjae’s yelling now and Ilhoon doesn’t blame him. He hates himself for putting Sungjae through everything, he’s sure this is just a fit of anger.

“That’s why I’m saying we could—”

“We can’t, at least for now,”

There’s depth in Sungjae’s words that Ilhoon can’t quite put meaning to. There’s sorrow in Sungjae’s eyes that Ilhoon can’t find any explanation for. There’s a sadness that is lingering in the space that is driving Ilhoon crazy. But instinctively, he shuts up, and waits for Sungjae to speak.

“For the bulk of time you took to come to this conclusion, I’ve made plans for my own life too. I had to interpret the mess you left me in I had to clear up all my doubts. I love you like I’ve always been loving you, but I guess I predicted your thoughts the wrong way for the first time,”

Silence fills up the void in his words.

“I’m moving back to Australia, with the initial purpose of answering to your rejection. I’ve also missed tons of people and places I met and went to years ago. It was going to be the perfect plan. But I guess I ruined it, didn’t I?”

Ilhoon’s world shatters. He wished he could throw a tantrum, he wished he could shriek at the top of his lungs, being left in vast nothingness. All these while he had been working for this exact moment, where he thought all the puzzle pieces would finally fit if he confessed. He doesn’t want to accept this reality, the reality leaving him feeling cold in the empty husk that’s all he has. But he only has himself to blame. He had been a total coward, avoiding every possibility of making things right. But he convinces himself it isn’t too late.

“I made you wait, now it’s my turn.”

“No… no you can’t. It’s too risky, find someone else, love someone else, or do something even if it wouldn’t be me. You can’t blindly wait for me. I’m not letting you, I’m not letting your disorder—”

“Shut up!” Ilhoon is determined to make his point clear. “I want this. I’m saying I want this; I want to ing love you! And you’re going to help me by letting me try. Go wherever, do whatever want, I don’t give a . You said you loved me, you said it too, so let me trust you!”

“How are you so sure—”

The gap between them closes, because Ilhoon is sure now. Their lips touch and they move in sync, like they meant to all these while. Ilhoon cups Sungjae’s cheeks with both hands, his eyes still kept shut. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he doesn’t know what to feel. He just knows something is lighting up inside of him and he feels so damn euphoric. He wants to live in this moment, he doesn’t want this to ever end. He acts before he thinks, he knows he’s still scared, but he loves the way it feels so right, yet terribly wrong. Sungjae’s lips are soft, his face is warm, Ilhoon can’t see but he knows it’s because Sungjae’s face is turning red by now.

Sungjae’s heart is racing, but his hands are already on Ilhoon’s neck, and the kiss intensifies. He pulls him closer, feeling a sort of bliss, one of which he has never felt before, burst in him. Ecstasy—that’s what it is.

They finally pull apart, and there’s a look of adoration in Sungjae’s eyes. Ilhoon’s grabbing onto his arms a little too tight, his heart is beating a little too quick, his breathing is getting demanding. But there in Sungjae’s arms, the way their lips collided, the way their love was fulfilled, the happiness is overpowering the fear inside of Ilhoon.

“Let me trust you, Yook Sungjae.”

---

There is a kind of euphoria of grief, a degree of madness. Who knows? I might be the madness you desired, and you might be the love I plighted, a love that needed no command.

---