It was hard to be fond of someone whom I know would leave me soon. And it was harder to stop my feelings for him, because even if I know I would get hurt, I simply couldn’t stop loving him.

 

The first time I saw Jung Jaehyun, I fell in love. He was so handsome; he was young yet he looked like a man; he was masculine and his build-up was…. He was tall, his shoulders were broad, his lines were defined; he was ivory white, his skin was smooth, and he looked so clean. His hair was thick, black and messy with his forehead covered; and for me, it just made him more attractive. When I first saw his eyes, I melted. They were sharp, but his stare was soft. He appeared worldly, but his smile was innocent. He seemed cold, yet when he spoke, I melted more.

I witnessed all his irony in one moment, and I witnessed more when I got to know him.

We first met when I joined our dance varsity. I was already at my third year, while he was a new student. We had the same course, mass communication, and I found that he got into the program like how I did, remarked with degree program with available slot. I was glad to know we had the same course—it meant that we would have classes at the same building, and we would often see each other. What made me gladder was the fact that he was also in the dance studio, introducing himself and joining the troupe.

He looked matured on the outside, but when I saw how he acted, I found out that he was a child within a muscular built. My first impression turned to scrap because he was full of aegyo and that instantly debunked the image I had for him. He was so cute, so shy and sheepish when talking to others. When he would make a mistake, he would grin and his eyes would turn into black crescent lines. I would then get lost in the dance as well, because his charm was distracting me and I couldn’t help but take glances of him.

Once, our coach tasked me to choreograph a dance. He said I could ask help from my batch mates, and at that time I thought, it was an opportunity to draw myself into Jaehyun. I planned to approach him and ask if he could be my co-choreographer; but to my surprise, it was he who approached first.

I was walking along the corridor that time when he called my name and ran to me.

“Taeyong hyung,” he said, and he showed his sheepish grin again. He was wearing pink and it complemented so cutely with his rosy cheeks, and it made him look younger and more handsome in my eyes.

I smiled, as my heart pumped butterflies into my stomach. “Yes?”

“Can I –“ he stuttered, as if he lost his words and forgot what he was to say. “Can I choreograph the dance with you?”

Hearing his question, I almost floated. “Of course,” I quickly answered, but I delivered it in such a casual way that wouldn’t make it obvious that I liked the idea so much.

He grinned wider, his cheeks went pinker and puffier, and he raised his fists meekly as he exclaimed, “yey!”

 

Since we had conflicting schedules in the day, we did choreographing at night after training. Being in the varsity was quite demanding—genre training was different from piece creations and competition rehearsals. As of now, since we were trainees, we had to complete 300 hours of genre training within the year and we had to create five original pieces as our choreography workshop. This time we had to draft a part of our first batch piece, and we did it at the rooftop, just right above my apartment.

As I had observed, Jaehyun still had a lot to improve in his dancing. As of now, his moves were inarticulate, he couldn’t do the proper crunch-in and he lacked power in executing the steps. In hip hop, there must be strength in every movement, and like in other dances, there should be precision in every gesture and grace in every sequence. He however did not have those yet.

But seeing his dedication to improve, I know he would be better soon enough. I would just be here to help him.

We were already tired when we tried forming the choreography. We danced for almost three hours at the studio already and we just wanted to lie down and sleep. The wind was really cool and the city lights were so calming, we ended up just sitting at the bench, looking at the sky and talking to each other.

“So aside from dancing, what else are you interested in?” I asked.

“Cooking,” his answer was fast. “I love cooking the most.”

“Ahh…” Learning something new about him, I became glad. I wanted to know more, so I asked again. “What else?”

“Singing,” he said.

“Singing?” my sleepy self suddenly went excited. “Sample sample,” I delightedly urged him to sing for I wanted to hear his voice that instant.

Without any more ado, he sang. And I was utterly surprised when I heard his voice. Its color was blooming in tender baritone, and he was so…wonderful.

Take my hand and draw a circle

This is how much we’ve shared together

My whole heart is by your side

Your dreams are by my side.

Living and enduring

If we’re together, it’s happier

Once again, we’re connected without an end

Can’t live without you.

I was left speechless. My lips parted, my breath was held, and I got stuck in the seconds when he sang. I wanted him to repeat, to make me hear his voice again and pour the tones deeper inside me. My eyes were stuck at him—I tried to flick them away but I couldn’t—and when he smiled, I felt like dropping already from the building.

“Do you like it?” he smiled wider.

I was shocked. My throat went dry. “Wh- what?” I almost couldn’t speak.

“Do you like it, I said.”

That was the time when I got my senses back, and laughed at myself for reacting out of the context. I thought he was asking, do you like me?

“Yeah,” I nodded, somehow awkwardly for he might have sensed something from my reaction earlier. “Ye-yeah, it was good,” I nervously remarked.

He stared at me for some seconds, and then chuckled.

“How about you?” he asked, “what else are you interested in?”

I didn’t know what entered my mind, and I didn’t know what went wrong with the air that I answered, “you.”

I got too stiffened. What. The. . Of all the time my tongue could slip, it chose to slip right at that second. I saw how his lips parted, how he stopped moving and how he fixed his indescribable stare at me.

“You…you - tube,” I said. “I’m interested in watching youtube videos.”

He stared. I stared.

“Youtube, yeah,” I grinned.

--

 

To my relief, Jaehyun hadn’t seemed to notice my feelings. His attitude toward me didn’t change, and he didn’t ask anything or do something in which he seemed aware. I acted as a friend, I became more careful with my actions and I kept a little distance from him. He meanwhile approached me just like how he did to others—we would talk from time to time, we would train and have some fun during breaks, and we would bid each other farewell when the training had ended.

For one whole year, things went just like that. We would greet each other when we meet along corridors, eat together when chance permits, and dance together alone sometimes. He had asked me a number of times for one on one dance training; I asked him why, and he said that I was one of the best dancers and he wanted to learn from me. Not to be asked, I definitely got flattered, and the fact that it was from him, I had been lost in words. But that was just sometimes, and he was also praising others like how he did to me.

For one whole year, I tried not to give meaning on every of his actions toward me. His hi’s and hello’s were just nothing. The times when he walked to my table and asked if he could eat with me were just because he knew me and he had no one else to eat with. His little talks to me, his glances and stares at me, his grins and laughs-- didn’t mean anything at all.

 

And now, what he was asking for didn’t mean anything. His meaning was the same with what he said. His reasons were the same as what he told me.

He was asking me if he could stay with me in the apartment, because his family had just flown to America, and they didn’t want him to stay alone in their house.

“Sorry Jaehyun, but…” I thought of a reason. I need to think fast because I didn’t want him to stay with me. Because if he would, I would just fall for him more and I would end up helpless.

“But hyung,” he held my arm, and his expression looked like he would kneel in any second, “I already told them I’ll stay with you. They know you’re my closest, and they trust you…”

No matter how I thought of a reason, the way he held me blocked my heart from doing so. And like his family, I wouldn’t want him to be alone, for I might not be able to forgive myself when something goes wrong.

I had no reason to say no, and had all the reasons to accept and know him more.

It didn’t take so long when I finally answered yes.

 

I kept a distance from Jaehyun before; but even so, I was still closest with him, and he was closest with me. Yet I didn’t really consider ourselves as ‘close,’ because truth to be told, I was closer with dancing and my studies. I had spent more time with my books and dancing than with him. I was a competitive person; I wanted to be the best at the things I do. I wanted to excel in my subjects, and at the same time I wanted to put the biggest fire on every floor I would dance at.

I considered myself smart, given the good grades I’d got and the praises I’d received from my professors. Yet now I simply felt so dumb, because I allowed Jaehyun to live me. I allowed myself to get fonder of someone who would follow his family on a faraway place without any assurance if he would even come back.

Once he finished college, he would leave. He was actually supposed to go with them, but he chose to complete his studies here since he had already spent one year. Oftentimes I thought he should have just left with them, so I wouldn’t have this kind of problem right now. But then, I would be glad that he opted to stay, for I had been given the chance to be with him, every single day, for three years.

 

 

“Can we have a deal?” was the first thing he said at our very first morning together. He was sitting beside me, legs crossed on the bed, and my blood rushed with the assumption that he had been gazing at me for a long while already. I gulped, almost unable to move up, and tried to stay calm with our close proximity.

“What deal?” I asked, toneless, having no clue what kind of deal it would be.

“Since you won’t let me pay rent,” he said, “let me cook breakfast for us every day.”

I blinked; I didn’t know what ran in his mind. For me, cooking was a ridiculous thing to do. We had to wake up at five in the morning not to be late in our class both at 6:30, and then for the whole day we would drain our brains in concepts and essays, and then from night until midnight we had to dance to maintain our membership, and then what would remain for us to sleep was two to five hours. And cooking? He must be nuts.

“It’s your choice,” I replied. “But I bet you can’t do it.”

“Okay,” he excitedly hopped from the bed, and he raised the ladle that I supposed he had been holding since. “How much is your bet?”

I widened my eyes, brows raised, surprised by how happy he got. And now he was asking me how much my bet was, as if he was seriously accepting the challenge he gave to himself.

I really bet he couldn’t do it. He might be able to for the first few mornings, but after that, I would find him beside me, still snoring loud, mouth open and saliva flowing to the pillow. I was a hundred percent sure with my belief, so I placed a high amount. “100 dollars, payment by the end of school year.”

“Deal,” he grinned, before he walked fast from the room and went to the kitchen.

 

 

The second semester had started, and my fear of losing 100 dollars was growing day by day.

For the whole first semester, he had not skipped a morning. I had woken up each day with him already at the kitchen, sensing the aroma of his dish and salivating from its first smell. And the moment I would taste it, I would hide my utter delight while continuing to scoop for more. He would ask if it was delicious, and I would give a not-really expression.

“It’s salty, and oily,” I remarked when he cooked dak kalguksu again, my most favorite from all the dishes I tasted. I lied, definitely, because it was too delicious, I thought I was floating higher from heaven. The noodles were perfectly cooked, the chicken hems were so tasty, the vegetables blended too well, and the soup was so…wonderful. I was just acting a bit cold, so he would stay humble and wouldn’t think I like him.

“Is that so?” he said, and he looked sad and disappointed.

I suddenly felt guilty. He was looking down his bowl and he really looked so sad as he slowly moved the spoon on his soup. I wanted to claim my words back, but I held it because he’d know I was lying.

“Anyway,” he looked at me and smiled, “I’ll cook it better next time.”

 

We walked down the pavement, took the bus, and entered the uni together. It was our everyday routine; and while expecting my heart to pound so hard every second, it went the other way around. My heart was calm, my hands were not shaking, and my mind was at peace. We would talk, and then laugh, and grab each other at times when one of us was about to bump on something or a car came running while we were crossing. We would walk up the stairs to our classrooms, chat again about this and that, and when we had to separate ways, we would curtly express a good luck on each other.

“Don’t sleep,” Jaehyun told me.

“Same to you,” I smirked.

I walked my way to the room, until I halted. I turned around, wanting to take another glance of him.

I was about to call his name, when he also turned around, and looked at me.

My heart didn’t jump, nor did it leap. Instead, it made me smile so wide.

“Tomorrow I want kalguksu again, the kalguksu you made earlier.”

He wrinkled his brows in wonder, and asked, “I thought you don’t like it.”

I shook my head, and admitted, “I like it…so much.”

He beamed; and his beam made my day complete.

--

 

 

That year was supposed to be my last year in college. But things turned round ever since I started to have a dream. I couldn’t stop myself from dancing; even while my body wasn’t moving, my mind and heart were. I couldn’t stop thinking about it—that someday I would become a performer, dancing on big stages, facing thousands of people who would cheer for me and be happy from what I do. I was dreaming to be a great dancer, to be someone who would dance all day and all night, someone who would lose himself to the beat of his heart for the rest of his life.

I failed many subjects. Since I joined the varsity, my studies got scraped. I tried to balance, I tried to do my essays and review for exams; but my heart kept telling me to dance, to just dance and never think of anything else. So I screwed up. I had to spend another year in college.

 

We were on summer vacation when a man approached us along the sidewalk. He said he was from one of the top three entertainment companies, and he was recruiting us to be trainees in their agency.

I was overwhelmed. We accepted it, without hesitation.

We pulled out from the troupe, and focused training in the agency. It was tougher; more hours had to be spent in dancing, and more hours had to be spent gaining more skills. I was told to rap and write lyrics, while Jaehyun was tasked to sing. We were taught about the nature and systems of show business, and we were always reminded of the value of passion and commitment. I took all the lessons in my heart, and as the days passed, I had begun to grow my love for rapping, writing, and everything involving the music and the stage.

At the same time, the more I had been growing my love…for Jaehyun.

It was his birthday, February 14, when he suddenly told me that he would quit training in the agency.

“I’m failing my subjects, hyung. I want to focus on my studies.”

I got sad when I heard it. I had already included him in my dreams, that someday we would have our debut and we would sing and dance on so many stages together. But it wouldn’t happen now. He wanted something else.

“If that’s what you want,” I said, placing a smile on my lips, “I won’t stop you.”

He stared longer at me, and smiled.

For me, that smile was what’s really important.

“Anyway, hyung,” he stood from his seat and took the big pan of ddeokbeokki from the stove. He placed it on the table, and grinned, “here, my birthday treat!”

I tittered with that usual cute attitude of his. After that, I walked to the fridge and took the cake I bought, together with the candle numbered two and zero on the egg shelf.

“Whoa,” he remarked as I opened the box and revealed the chocolate cake with a curt greeting of happy b-day jung jaehyun, from lee taeyong on top. “Where did you put that? I didn’t see it.”

“Secret,” I replied while lighting the candles up.

He pouted, but then he smiled again when I told him to make a wish.

Jaehyun closed his eyes, and told his wish loudly at the dancing lights. “I wish I could really be a famous chef. I want to cook for people all day and all night every day, and make them happy and satisfied. When mom and dad give me the restaurant, I wish I could run it well and make it the biggest restaurant in New York and the whole of U.S. And I wish it could expand worldwide, especially here in Korea. And last but not the least, I wish hyung would already give me my 100 dollars.”

I laughed at his last wish. I thought he had already forgotten about it since I was about a year delayed from payment already. But then I remembered he had a sharp memory, so I didn’t get that surprised anymore.

I wanted all his wishes to come true, so I picked my wallet and gave him his 100 dollars.

“Yeeey!” he exclaimed, waving the bill in the air with his puffy grin and heavy dimples.

I was glad to hear his wishes, and I really hoped they would come true. He was indeed quite ambitious, and I liked him more for that. Nevertheless he told me before that if he couldn’t reach his big dreams, he could just be a chef who cooks with all his heart. He could simply have a small restaurant, and become the happiest person by making food that satisfies people.

While I gazed at him, I suddenly thought of something. When we joined the troupe before, he told me that he wanted to be a great dancer. When the talent scout recruited us, he quickly said yes. While we were training, he was struggling yet vigorous. I then got so convinced we had the same dream, because we were even daydreaming about standing in front of so many fans.

But I remembered that every day, he was talking more about cooking than dancing. Then at the troupe, he seemed to exert less and less effort in time, and he wasn’t attending later sessions anymore. And then at the agency, I noticed that he went unwilling to exert extra work after some time, and his dancing still hadn’t reached my lowest standard. And then whenever I would get back home, I would find him at the kitchen, having so many ingredients around, moving so hastily with a timer on the side. That was at midnights.

I then thought that he might have not really liked dancing. And now that he had quitted and refused to join back to the troupe, he was just proving that my feeling was right.

So at that moment I got curious, of why he had spent that excessive amount of time training at the varsity and the agency. For someone who wasn’t really passionate in dancing and was actually dreaming to be a chef, he exerted so much, to the point that he came to fail a number of his subjects.

“Are you sure you don’t want to dance anymore?” I asked him, wondering how he would answer.

He took a moment of silence, before he nodded. “I find dancing hard,” he reasoned out.

“I thought you love dancing. When you love something, you can endure everything.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I love dancing.”

“So why don’t you join back to the troupe? You’ll stop at the agency anyway.”

He kept quiet.

“Hey, why not join again, I asked.”

I could read his hesitation to answer.

“Uhm, because…” he muttered.

“Because?”

“…because you’re not there anymore.”

--

 

I should, and would not believe what he said. He refused to join because he loved cooking more, not because I wasn’t there anymore. And I believed what he said afterwards, that he didn’t want to dance without me, his best friend. That was it. Best friends. We were just best friends.

I had to repeat many subjects, so I would spend one more year in the university. I was now on the same standing with Jaehyun, and hopefully I would be able to graduate by the end of the year, together with him. It would be a struggle again, especially now that I was at the line-up for the agency’s next group to debut.

I jumbled the training and my studies. Early in the morning I would go to the agency and train with the group, and then every break I would get my book to read and draft my assignment. I would eat with my co-trainees, go back to practicing, and then study again little by little. I would go back home late at night, tired and still not done with school works.

 

When I entered the house, I saw Jaehyun at the couch, folding clothes. I thought those were his, yet when I was about to enter the room, I recognized they were mine.

“What are you doing?” I asked floatingly.

“Folding clothes, duh?” he giggled.

“I mean, why are you folding my clothes?”

“Because you’re tired already.”

I went silent, as I watched him fix my clothes from a distance.

“Stop that,” I said. “Leave it there and sleep. You’re tired too.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I said stop that.”

“I said I don’t want to.”

I was tired, and worn-out, and I didn’t like that he wasn’t following me. I rushed to him and shoved his arms from the clothes. I glared and gritted my teeth.

He looked blankly at me, and asked, “what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you folding my clothes.”

He stared at me. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Just. Don’t do it.”

“Why?”

I couldn’t speak. My tears just fell, and my fists shook in anger.

“From now on,” I commanded with my teeth knitting, “don’t do anything for me. Do not fold my clothes, do not do my laundry, do not clean my apartment, do not cook my breakfast, and never do all the things you do for me again.”

He stood up, and went nearer me. His stare was asking me many things, and his stare just made me cry more.

“Hyung,” he muttered, “tell me what’s wrong.”

I chose not to look at his eyes, and simply walk to the room.

But then he took my arm and went in front of me. “I know there’s something wrong. Please tell me, I’m just here.”

My heart couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t stand another day trying to stop myself. Every single day, it killed me that I couldn’t say anything to him. I didn’t want to hold back anymore. I wanted to hold him, to touch him, to kiss him, and tell how much I love him.

“I love you,” I said. “That’s what’s wrong.”

He just looked.

“Do you get me, Jaehyun? I love you. So don’t do anything that will make me love you more. Because you will leave me and it will hurt so much more.”

I pushed him aside, locked the room, and cried.

 

The next morning, I woke up from the floor, right before the door. I hadn’t noticed that I slept after I cried, and didn’t know that until I opened my eyes, I was hugging myself. I looked at the bed and it was empty, so I stared more to prepare myself for the future. One day, that was how that bed would look like. He would be gone, and I would sit on the floor like this.

I had to prepare for training, so I went out of the room. And like my usual morning since he came, he was there waiting at the table, our breakfast set.

I stood still on my place, and gave him a blunt stare. “Didn’t I tell you not to cook?”

He didn’t answer.

It took a while before he looked at me, and spoke.

“I can’t stop myself…doing things for you.”

I stared.

Silence.

“The first time I saw you, I loved you,” he said.

“When I learned you are dancing, I wanted to dance,” he added.

“When my family and I were already packing things, I thought of you…”

“…and when I asked if I could live with you, it was my idea.”

I froze.

“Hyung, I love you too...and I can’t help but love you more.”

I couldn’t move, but I wasn’t surprised anymore. It just came to happen, that I now knew that all the thoughts I had before were true. I knew he loved me. He hadn’t touched my body but he never failed to touch my heart, deep down inside. The way he looked at me, the way he cared…I knew he loved me.

“I’ll ask our classmates if I could stay with them,” he interrupted the silence. “Within this week, I’ll be able to find another place.”

I didn’t know what he was saying. I gave a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I will leave this place, so you won’t see me and you will forget that you love me.”

“I didn’t tell you to leave.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“If you stay away from me, don’t you think I will get hurt?”

I didn’t want to hear him talk again. The moment he would, I would throw all the food at him and flip the table together with him. Luckily, he didn’t insist.

“Stay,” I said, “and let us live together.”

 

 

Our group was supposed to rehearse until eleven, but at eight I was already packing my things. I would sure get scolded again, but I rushed out of the building for I still had to buy at the pharmacy and the queue might be long.

To my surprise, I found Jaehyun at the shed, and I could see him shake even from afar.

I ran and removed my jacket to put it over his. I fumbled on his head and wrapped my palms around his shivering hands-- his fever was high and he looked really pale.

“Why the are you here?” I didn’t mean to stress him more with my tone but my worry was simply pitching my voice up. He was sick and I told him to just stay at home.

He suddenly kissed me on the lips, and then grinned.

“But I want to fetch you,” he said. “You told me you’ll come out by eight.”

“But I didn’t tell you to come here and shake like that, idiot,” I rubbed my palms together and warmed his cheeks up.

“It’s just flu,” he giggled. “I’m a man already.”

“Shut up,” I snorted as I hugged him to give more warmth, “you’re still my baby.”

 

The day after tomorrow, it didn’t seem like he just came from sickness. He was at the kitchen again, talking like there was a camera in front of him while slicing the carrots and peeling the potatoes. He had a chef hat and he wore his apron with a customized big print which wrote, great chef jung the handsome jaehyun. He was back to his usual self who would spend hours with his ladles and pans and smile until his cooking session ends.

Meanwhile, I was on my desk, busy skimming my books and reviewing my notes to gather ideas for my thesis. My topic was already approved, and now I needed to revise chapter one and compile more literatures. I opened my laptop to begin my work and I had to rush it because I was being left behind as usual. Our thesis was individual so that just made things harder. Jaehyun was already doing interviews while here I was, still having no idea of who my informants would be.

I clicked my thesis file and started to pray for the spirit of diligence to possess me. I couldn’t doze off while working and I couldn’t get drugged by my instinct to dance. I had to finish paraphrasing the literatures and fixing the references before the day ends. I wanted to cry, but I got no time to.

I remembered I accomplished ten pages the last time I worked. I still hadn’t fixed the fonts and margins and the document basically looked like garbage. There were no page numbers and headers, and there wasn’t a title page.

But all of a sudden, when I looked at the file, there came a…title page.

And when I scrolled down, there suddenly came a…header, and page number, and fixed margin, justified paragraphs, arranged fonts, and the last page of the document became…page 65.

I read the first page.

Oh my god. The introduction suddenly became…creative.

I read the next pages.

Holy Christ. The sentences suddenly became coherent and fluid.

I read the successive pages.

Oh my…god. The chapters were complete, the appendices had been attached…and the references were fixed.

My thesis was…done.

Agape, I turned my head, so slowly, at Jaehyun.

Jaehyun halted moving, and stared blankly at me.

“Did you just…” I muttered…and couldn’t utter my next word anymore. Had I neglected my thesis so long…that I hadn’t even been aware he was doing it?

“Ah,” he remarked upon looking at my laptop, “your thesis? I tried to help you a bit.”

A bit? My lip dropped some more. He must be kidding me. He had just finished my thesis.

“It’s not yet done though,” he said. “You have to double check the sources and revise. It’s just the first version.”

My heart was about to explode. He might not know how much this meant to me. I knew he was not supposed to do it, I knew I should not encourage what he did but…I couldn’t help it. He brought me up to the umpteenth heaven.

He tried to say something more, “I saved the original literatures on another file, read them and add some more ide – “

“Jaehyun I love you,” I interrupted him.

He blinked, and smiled, and I supposed he was about to ask huh? when I repeated, “Jaehyun I love you!”

I ran to him and clamped him so tight in my arms. I gripped his head and poured him all the kisses I could give. I kissed and kissed his lips and pressed my lips so hard because I loved him so much, my kisses were not enough to express it.

“Why Jaehyun, why?” I held his face so tight in between my palms, and I wanted to squeeze him tighter in ecstasy. “Why did you do my thesis?!”

He suddenly wrapped his arms tight around me and answered, “need I still say it?” and he kissed me so long, “I love you…”

I laughed, and kissed him again and again.

“…and I want you to promise me something,” he added.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I don’t want you to fail any more subjects. Promise me you will pass all of them, and we’ll graduate together.”

I quickly nodded. “So that means less dancing for me,” I giggled.

He gazed at me, and we suddenly went quiet. Our lips were so close together, and our arms were so wrapped on each other; and given the look in our eyes, we already knew what to do next.

 

 

Maybe I would forever be in college, or maybe I would simply stop my studies if I didn’t have Jaehyun by my side. It was not just because he did the most part in my thesis; Jaehyun did more beyond just that to make me still stand strong in the midst of all the things I had to handle. He gave me more words than those he wrote for my paper; he fixed me way beyond how he did with the fonts and margin; and he completed me, way beyond than he could imagine.

We were now about to climb on stage, with him standing before me. It was lucky that his surname was Jung and mine was Lee; there was no student between us, and our names were beside each other on the list. It felt like destiny; even the roll call wanted us to be together.

Holding each other’s hand, we took the steps together, until Jaehyun’s name was finally called. He let go of my hand, and walked to the center to receive his diploma.

My name was called, and I walked on the stage. Jaehyun, to my surprise, stood still at his place. I reached the center and received my diploma; and little did I know, that I was about to receive more on that stage.

He kissed me in front of all the people, and gave his hand for me to take.

 

We walked back home still holding each other’s hand….and we went to the room to seal our day with more happiness. I ed his suit, and he ed mine, until we held each other’s skin—warm, smooth, and filled with tenderness. We kissed…and hugged…and softly fell to our bed; he moved over me, and underneath I tasted him. He pressed his lips more against mine, I pushed my lips further on his; and I touched the broadness of his shoulders with utmost care, for he was too precious to be mishandled.

“Congratulations,” he whispered, and then bit the cusp of my ear.

“How dare you,” I muttered, so I rolled over him and bit him back, softly like how he did. I giggled, and whispered, “congratulations.”

“At last, we’ve finished,” he smiled, and began crawling his palms down my back, so tenderly that I would surely miss.

I smiled back, but his word let me remember, that he was about to leave…just days from now. I almost forgot this would end soon enough, and almost forgot that I just borrowed him for a time being.

I rested my head on his chest and laced my fingers on his arms. I listened to his heartbeat, and placed myself in the midst of his warmth. I closed my eyes to feel every piece of him—and I would stay like this for long, so that I would have something more to remember when only the bed remains.

When the seconds passed, I heard something not good. I lifted my head, and saw Jaehyun crying.

“Why?” I asked, although I already knew.

“Will you be mad at me?” he whispered.

I shook my head. I ran my thumb at the corners of his eyes, and shook my head again to assure it. I would not be mad, because there he could be with his family, and he could live more happily while pursuing his greatest dreams. I would not hinder him to be with the people he loves, and would definitely not stop him if he wanted to go.

“Hyung, I want to stay with you,” he cried more.

At that moment, my tears dropped. I also wanted him to stay, but then again, I shook my head, because it would be better for him to leave.

In a few months, my career as a performer would begin. I would soon debut with the new group, and that meant a new world that might be scarier than I could perceive. The whole world would be watching, every place would be too noisy, and everything I do would be interpreted in too many ways. Now that I was getting nearer into that kind of place, my fear was growing-- and I wouldn’t want Jaehyun to bear unnecessary pain. The people’s intrusion, the blade of their words—he didn’t deserve any of those.

It would be better if he would stay away. That way, he would be safer. Besides, I also thought, that I might not even have a little time to see him anymore. I would always be away from home, go and fly from places to places without stop, rehearse and perform without rest, and be forced to be with other people.

I couldn’t be sure if we could still work.

“Go to your family,” I whispered, “they’re waiting for you.”

“But I will miss you,” he snuggled his head on my shoulder, and I felt his tears wet my skin.

I embraced him, and brushed his hair gently in my fingers. Instead of crying more, I simply laughed it out. “Ayy, miss is out of vocabulary now. We have messenger, remember? Facebook, IG, and all that.”

“I can’t hug you like this on facebook,” he softly grumbled.

I just chuckled, because he was right.

 

 

Every night, we listened to the beat of our hearts, and reminded ourselves that we would not really fall apart, for we were always in each other’s heart. Setting our minds with that as we embraced, we closed our eyes and rest in each other’s calmness, until we had fallen asleep and let the sun crawl up.

I woke up the next day to witness the nightmare. No—I didn’t want to wake up; I wanted to remain sleeping with Jaehyun by my side. No—I had to close my eyes again and go back to last night. Last night there were no luggage bags beside me. Last night it was me Jaehyun was holding, not the clothes he was now pulling from the cabinet. Last night it was my hair he was fixing, not his things he was now placing in his bag.

I closed my eyes and pretended I was blind. But the reality scraped my eyelids and forced me to see Jaehyun preparing to leave. His cabinet was now empty. His bags were already packed, and he was already closing them beside me. He pulled another bag and opened it. And little did he know that it was not the zipper he was ripping. It was me. He was ripping me apart.

My tears fell, but I quickly caught them in my palm and tried not make any sound. I faced the wall and wept my tears silently, yet eventually my breath hitched and I couldn’t stop my throat from fastening my breath into sobs. I forced myself to sleep again. I covered my mouth and clenched my chest to stop myself from crying. He should not see me like this. I couldn’t let him feel bad in any way and I should let him go with a smile.

I felt him lie behind me; and in a while, his arms wrapped me around. And then, I heard him cry, and mutter, “I’m sorry.”

I gripped his arms tight and pulled him closer to me…for all I wanted right now was to feel his presence in our last moments together.

 

We went down the stairs, carrying his bags, and walked to the shed to wait for a cab. We had lost our tears, so now, as we held each other’s hand, we smiled, and I made sure he would feel happy in our remaining minutes.

In the cab, I leaned my head on his shoulder, and I stared at our intertwined fingers as the wheels were quickly taking us to the airport. We laced our hands tightly together, and I tried to print the softness of his arms deep into me.

“When I get there, I’ll instantly tell mom to place our dish on the menu. Our fried short rib patties, with your four sauces and carbonated lemon sikhye. It will be called the Jaeyong dish,” he gaily said.

“Really?” I tittered. “I’ll be proud if ever.”

“Why ‘will be’ proud? Aren’t you proud of me now?”

“Of course I am,” I said. “In fact I used your choreography in our dance. Ah, I hadn’t told you yet, NCT will be our group name. Neo Culture Technology.”

“Neo Culture Technology?” he chuckled. “Haha, lame.”

“Say it again?” I protested, and then I flicked his forehead. “It’s our name, so it’s cool.”

“Yeah, cool,” he scratched his head, and gave me his bright grin.

When he smiled, I wanted the time to stop. I wanted us to talk like this forever, where we would listen and then laugh, talk and then tease, take a moment of silence, and then gaze at each other. 

But instead of the time, it was the cab that stopped.

I looked at the window.

We arrived at the airport.

 

He had fallen in line, his bags at the cart; and step by step, he was getting nearer the door. He looked at me from afar, waving his hand. I gripped tight on the rails in front of me, and trembled in tears. Why didn’t I stop him earlier? Why did I let go of his arms?

When he reached the entrance, I wasn’t able to bear it.

I jostled the security and jumped across the gate. I ran to him and hugged him too tight.

“Don’t go,” I begged, “don’t go,” I began pulling him back toward the gate.

But he resisted.

The guards took my arms, and I also felt, that Jaehyun himself let go of my embrace.

He just stared at me, his tears falling. And then he rushed inside without saying a word.

“Jaehyun,” I cried, as I watched him move farther and farther away.

“Jaehyun!” I sobbed, until I lost him in my eyes.

He was gone.