Chapter 1.

It would be a lie to say that when Taeyong first saw him he didn’t stare. He stared for a good thirty seconds before ducking down to look at his scuffed boots, wondering if anyone caught him staring at the trainee doctor. You think thirty seconds would be enough, but no, Taeyong raised his eyes to look at him again.

His hair was dark against his pale skin, slightly falling over his forehead as he bandaged Donghyuck’s ankle. He wore light blue scrubs as all the young optimistic junior doctors did. Donghyuck flinched and the intern frowned, looking up to Taeyong’s smartass cousin.

“Did I wrap it too tight?”

“Just a bit.” Donghyuck said in a small voice. The doctor shadowing him leaned over to inspect the finished bandage with an unreadable expression. Even then Taeyong continued to stare, it was impossible not to.

“Overall good job Jaehyun.” The elder doctor nodded, patting the trainee before flipping though the Donghyuck’s flipchart.

So that’s his name… Jaehyun, Taeyong thought, mind going elsewhere.

“Thank you, Dr. Taeil.” Jaehyun replied. Jaehyun sighed and let out a relieved smile, his dimples deepening at the sides of his cheeks. That smile was almost blinding. He stared at his supervisor with eyes that crinkled in adoration and awe. Taeyong caught the senior doctor’s nametag that had ‘Dr. Moon Taeil’ imprinted in glossy black letters.

“You’re progressing well, Donghyuck. Dare I say it, you’ll be out within the week. But you won’t be able to walk without any crutches for about a month. Are your parents not around?”

“My mom went to get me more clothes and my dad had to pick up my sister from school. But it’s okay! Taeyong-hyung is here to keep me company.” Donghyuck was too happy for a kid that crashed his bike into a tree and landed in a pile of broken glass. Taeyong wasn’t surprised thought. If the kid wasn’t terrorizing the neighborhood’s old ladies, he was out pranking some poor sod who had the unfortunate pleasure of being friends with him.

The two doctors turned to Taeyong as if they finally noticed his presence by the window. He might as well have been a house plant.

Dr. Moon tried and failed at concealing his displeasure but Jaehyun stared at him with a restrained smile. Taeyong bowed slightly at them though he didn’t feel like looking at them again, he could feel the weight of their stares.

It’s the hair.

But then again he’s also wearing an oversized hoody and black ripped jeans.

I look like a thug, Taeyong thought. But was only mildly offended considering that he was in a hospital, and had been very well mannered (for now) and that he was visiting his cousin like the lovely older brother he was. But he’s used to the stereotyping.

When Dr. Taeil turned back to ask Donghyuck about his scarring, Jaehyun continued to stare at Taeyong.

Unabashed. Unashamed. Outright.

It’s definitely the hair.

And for once, Taeyong felt insecure like a shy blushing boy he very well wasn’t.

Taeyong had alien hair. It was bleached white or something silvery he did not know the name of. But it had been five months since he dyed it and so his roots are starting to appear, black then grayish lavender then white. It looked like one of Ten’s art projects had thrown up on his head.

He blames Ten for daring him. Though after that, Ten had gushed about how pretty it looked, and he even went so far as to add chrome lilac highlights which made Taeyong look even more inhuman. It didn’t soothe Taeyong’s mind about his obscene hairstyle at all.

“I look like a fairy.” He had chastised Ten’s ridiculous fixation with his hair as the latter constantly touched it.

“Hmmm… More like a pixie or… or an elf! You know like in Lord of the Rings. But not like Legolas, Legolas had creamy sun-lit hair.” Ten replied diplomatically.

“Thank you, Dr. Taeil and Jaehyun. I’ll get better quickly so that I don’t trouble you two anymore.” Donghyuck shot them a gummy smile just before Dr. Taeil’s pager buzzed.

“You’re welcome. I have to go. Get some rest and tell your parents I came by.” Taeyong stood up and bowed deeply to the two doctors. He noticed the flicker of disdain in Taeil’s eyes but he didn’t notice how Jaehyun’s gaze lingered on his face for a long time as they exited the room.

Donghyuck tells Taeyong about how terrible the hospital food was and how hard it was going to be to get to school in his condition. But Taeyong’s mind flitted onto other matters. Such as how handsome a certain junior doctor was, with deep brown eyes and a dazzling, dimpled smile.

After two days, Taeyong dismissed the attraction as a mere crush. It was too ridiculous. Jaehyun was in his residential, and Taeyong was just being a fluke in high school.

But still, he wished his hair would fade faster.

Ten wanted him to try pink or blonde next but Taeyong rejected the idea of being his personal Ken doll. Ten pouted and whined a lot but Taeyong ignored his best friend.

Two years passed by in cruel monotonous days.

His hair faded back to it's original inky black.

Taeyong walked into the pitch of the night, disappearing when his father came home from drinking with his officemates. His mother could care less about her son and his atrocious hair. Occasionally, he would find asylum with Ten. They would talk about anything, everything. Normal people probably didn’t like Ten’s constant chatter, sometimes Ten could be borderline hysterical even at 3 am but Taeyong liked his runaway mouth. It distracted him well, he could forget about all his troubles.

However, sometimes Taeyong didn’t want to bother Ten, especially since he had his own problems. Sometimes he would walk around the neighbourhood alone, meet friends who weren’t actually friends, only Ten knew him.

Really knew him.

He would fade into the night like some other crook or blackguard. Sleep apparently did not chase the troubled or the depraved. Occasionally, due to bouts of insomnia, he would stay awake and lay under the stars, trying to count them in vain. Everything was pointless in his world.

It’s on nights like those, when Ten’s bed is occupied with someone else, and Taeyong doesn’t feel like meeting anyone, he would think about Jaehyun. It was nostalgic, as most things you think about past midnight are. Taeyong wonders if he’s asleep or if the young doctor is on call, devouring some medical journal with bad coffee on some cold rubbery bed, waiting for his pager to buzz. Taeyong liked to think of him at moments like these, it made him realize that even those born-geniuses, seemingly perfect prodigies had life’s to deal with.

Taeyong wondered what it would be like to know him, to really know him, if he would still be this infatuated with Dr Jaehyun and his milky skin and his twinkling eyes. He does not let his mind delve further, afraid of falling in love with a ghost, or falling in love with anyone at all.

It is the silence that woke Taeyong up.

It wasn't usually this quiet and if the birds chirping was not an indicator that something was amiss, Taeyong would have gone back to sleep after glancing at his bedside clock. It was only 7 am and it was a Sunday so he had no classes that day. The cold usually forced him to sleep until midday on the weekends. But something was strange, the morning was too quiet.

Against his better judgment, he crept out of bed and into the kitchen. He was still groggy and half asleep so he washed his face in the kitchen sink before chugging down a cold glass of milk. He was still in his underwear and graphic t-shirt when he knocked on his father’s bedroom door. There was no sound, not even loud snoring and dread flooded his veins.

“Don’t tell me… Oh , what if…” He did not get to finish his sentence because he opened the door and stepped cautiously into the dark room. It smelled like cheap alcohol and burning plastic. There were multi coloured pills strewn on the floor and he knew what had already happened when he saw his father on the bed in a wifebeater, eyes wide, staring at the cracked ceiling, saliva frothing in his mouth.

Taeyong’s hands shook when he called 911.

He didn’t think the second time he would see Jaehyun would be like this. But it was.

Taeyong still stared.

Jaehyun looked so different. For one, his dark hair was a light blonde-brown transition shade like a chestnut, and swept to the side. His face was still beautiful, carved planes, high cheekbones, and those big chocolate eyes. He wore a warm turtleneck underneath his white coat, the chest pockets stained blue and black from pens. A stethoscope hung haphazardly from his neck and he had a flipchart in his hands. He wasn’t even looking where he was walking as he spoke to a female nurse in green scrubs, but he walked forward to where Taeyong stood despite there being many obstacles.

“Lee Taeyong.” The nurse reminded Jaehyun as they came face to face with each other. Taeyong sneaked a peak at her nametag that read ‘Kang Seulgi, Consultant Nurse’ in those same neat letters he had seen before. They stare at each other and Jaehyun is just as shocked as he is to see the handsome boy again.

“Dr. Jung.” Taeyong nodded. Jaehyun is somewhat taken aback that Taeyong remembers his name. Of course, Taeyong remembers.

“Dr?” Nurse Kang nudged him. He snapped out of his trance and shook his head.

“I’m sorry… but the paramedics could not revive your father. He had a that also triggered a seizure and he passed on the way here.” Jaehyun said grimly, he looked exhausted despite it being only 10 in the morning.

“Thank you for your effort.” The words felt like sand in his mouth, superfluous but dry.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Jaehyun patted his shoulder. It felt strange. Jaehyun looks too mature now, the lines in his forehead have deepened and Taeyong didn’t sense the spark of optimism in him anymore. He looked like he’s at a place Taeyong can only dream to reach. Further and further away. “Nurse Kang will prepare the paper work and death certificate.”

“Yes… of course.” Taeyong nodded blankly. Jaehyun blinked at him and opened his mouth but closed it again when his phone vibrated in his hand.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Excuse me.” He stared at his phone’s screen like it was a black hole. Jaehyun shot him an apologetic look and handed the flipchart to Nurse Kang.

Taeyong’s eyes followed Jaehyun as he fast footed towards the end of the corridor, disappearing at a corner. Nurse Kang had him fill in some forms and paperwork and was very patient when Taeyong forgot his own ing address.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized tensely, exasperated at his own scattered brain.

“No no… you don’t have to rush. I understand.” She smiled softly as she kept the papers in a file. She handed him the death certificate and a few other papers that Taeyong didn’t care to look at.

“Is it always like this?” Taeyong asked, absent mindedly fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.

“No… not always. The initial shock leaves people pretty indifferent sometimes. People need time to mourn after all. But sometimes it’s more dramatic. You should call a relative to help with the funeral proceedings as soon as possible. It can be… taxing for someone so young.” Again, she smiles gently and Taeyong feels warmer just looking at her.

“Thank you for your help.” Taeyong bowed deeply to her, because he felt exactly that- a deep gratitude to this kind stranger.

When Taeyong walked out of the hospital, he sat on the bench outside, not ready to leave just yet, letting the cold winter seep into his lungs and crystallize into an igloo. He knew the person he should call is his uncle, the closest relative to him despite not being all that close. He hasn’t a clue about funeral arrangements and the will and dealing with lawyers or mourners.

He’s still just a boy.

But the number he dialed was not his uncle's, it was Ten’s. This time his fingers did not tremble as he pressed the cold piece of metal to his ear.

“Hello? Taeyong?” Ten’s bright voice was familiar and comfortable.

“He’s dead, Ten.”

And as the words passed his lips, he felt himself shiver with the scariest feeling- relief.

Three days later, Taeyong is dressed in an immaculate black suit, sitting on a mahogany pew in a church he’s never been in and the pastor reading some sermon he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t remember anything significantly religious in his life, nor has he been told that he is an atheist. Neither of his parents were ever religious, though his father had always portrayed to his work colleagues that he was devout and perfect in all aspects of life and afterlife. Taeyong snorted at the thought.

Ten pinched his thigh, as if to say he heard his thoughts aloud. The boy can hardly stay still at his side. And truth be told, Taeyong has never seen Ten so sharply dressed. Ten was undoubtedly handsome, a little on the petite side and slightly feminine but still ridiculously handsome. He was also wearing a black suit and his unruly hair is slicked back with pomade like the Thai mafia boss he was. Or at least he’d like to think he was.

His uncle spoke next after the priest, speaking somber words and reminiscing about their childhood that Taeyong seriously doubted was true. He asked Taeyong to step up after, with a heavy sigh. Someone sobbed at the back and Taeyong is genuinely curious who would ing care. But he bit his tongue.

Taeyong is many things, but he still has the decency to be polite and do as he’s told. He mumbled vaguely of how caring his father was, what a diligent worker he was, how they used to play badminton in the afternoons and spend holidays at the sunset-dripped beaches like a fairytale or some sappy B-rated romantic comedy. He spoke softly, trying not to cringe at his own words. He paused for a moment, wondering how long he could lie through his teeth in front of so many people.

His uncle patted his back and he looked away from the crowd, pretending to blink back tears. It worked well enough as an excuse that he could no longer continue speaking about his dear father; so he quickly thanked everyone for coming to the memorial service.

When he sat back down Ten squeezed his hand, because Ten understood. Ten understood even though the world would never.

That was enough for now.

When the service is over, he was passed many white envelopes of money by generous colleagues and sympathetic relatives he had never met. He accepted their condolences and withstood the pitying eyes for awhile. After this, he just wanted to take a long nap and not wake up.

“Poor boy, he just got into college… and to lose his father at such a young age. His mother also left when he was young…”

He takes it in stride, the pity that is.

Maybe he is pretty pitiable.

The other procedures are done straight after, the cremation and getting the columbarium niche ready. His aunt, Donghyuck’s mother, prepared fresh lilies for him to place next to the urn. When he does, he thinks it’s strange that after the things we’ve accomplished in life, we end up in a little space etched into the wooden panels or in reserved plots to be buried in the earth. It’s all a bit anticlimactic. Taeyong thinks death is strange; it leaves an aftertaste that he doesn’t like regardless of his opinion on the dead person.

“Do you want to spend the night at our house?” His uncle asked. Taeyong knew it was probably out of consideration than real concern. Donghyuck had three other younger siblings and he can’t imagine their house being even more crowded.

“No, it’s fine. I can take care of myself. I wouldn’t want to burden you.” Taeyong shrugged nonchalantly.

“Come over if you ever want to. Our door is always open to you, you know that. I’ll send over some casseroles tomorrow.” His aunt gave him a sad smile and caressed his cheek. It is the most motherly touch he had felt in years.

Ten asked him if he wanted to stay over, or if he wanted him to accompany Taeyong in the cold, dank, empty house he supposedly called home. As tempting as it was to have Ten’s warmth in the winter night, Taeyong politely refused and said that he wanted to be alone for awhile. Ten pouted but understood that some time was needed to absorb everything before he could go back to the way things were.

If he could go back to the way things were.

Instead, he spent that afternoon sitting and staring at the columbarium. The room smelled of incense but Taeyong didn’t mind. The sky had cleared up and the golden dusky light bathed the room. Taeyong thought of what he should do tomorrow, suddenly his days seem half-formed in his brain. He remained staring at his reflection in the squares of glass; he did not notice someone else visiting a loved one. The man placed a rose into one of the cubby holes, where there was a picture next to the urn and also a box of personal belongings.

Taeyong snapped back into reality when Dr. Jung Jaehyun sat next to him. He did not process it for a minute and he glanced sideways to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Dr?”

“You don’t have to call me that outside the hospital. It’s just Jaehyun.” He turned sideways and gave Taeyong a weak smile. His hair looked more blonde in the sunlight. It was kind of daunting to look at him straight in the eyes. His were like honey and he really did look even more perfect in the light. The sharp planes of his cheeks softened and he looked better rested than he had been before.

“Are you well, Jaehyun?” Taeyong asked, his voice straining all of the sudden. He felt almost blasphemous calling the man anything but his respected title. It felt wrong on his tongue, like he was worthy of being more than mere acquaintances with him. Their worlds were so far apart as it was; Taeyong did not want to hope.

“Better than you it seems. You look like a mess.” Jaehyun chuckled and it is a sweet lilting sound.

“I feel like one.” Taeyong admitted.

They did not speak after that for a moment.

Taeyong wondered how often he visited this place. He obviously cared deeply enough for the deceased indivdual to bring fresh flowers. Taeyong didn’t even bring any of his father’s treasured knick knacks or photographs. Not that he had any. They’ve probably been burnt or swept away with time. He didn’t think he will visit his father’s niche again after this.

Actually, he’s certain he won’t.

It was, surprisingly, Jaehyun that broached the silence.

He stood from his seat and looked at Taeyong solemnly, not with the eyes of a doctor, or an intern or even an adult looking at a child.

“Would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me?”

Taeyong did not hesitate to say yes.