Note: "Eotteokaji" is simply Ken's cute way of saying "Eottheokhe haji" which translates to "What do I do?"

...

 Where am I?

The last thing Wonshik remembered was being chased. Some older boys at school didn’t like how much he stood out and had finally decided to do something about it. They hated how girls melted at the sound of his deep voice. They hated his rich background and natural good looks. They hated the high marks that earned him praise and recommendations from teachers.

And they hated his indifference towards it all. They were too envious to realize how much he hated it himself.

Life was easy if you were born a first son. Automatic respect, a promising future, financial security and all the materialistic benefits that came with them: he had it all. But those things felt like boulders over his casket, burying him deeper and deeper beneath the pressure. He never wanted it. Not like what he wanted actually mattered. He was supposed to graduate high school with honors and go to business school. He would take that education to the steps of his father’s company and assume the position promised to him, get married, then breed a son who would repeat that same daunting cycle.

Wonshik didn’t want that. He wanted lazy afternoons, fiddling with sound combos using his favorite composing program. To happily rock his head when the mesh finally turned into something that could remotely be called a composition. To tap a ballpoint pen on a blank sheet of paper from his favorite notebook. For images in his head to come alive in the form of words. For those words to become lyrics to his very own song. And, finally, to greet an expectantly hype crowd, shouting his name as that familiar rhythm started and he brought the mic to his lips.

He couldn’t do that. His father wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t be anyone or anywhere his heart yearned to be. He couldn’t be himself.

Now his lungs were stinging and his chest was tight, and the grounds of his high school were lost in some unknown direction. His bullies must have lost him a long time ago, and his long aching legs must have taken him very far, because as he stood winded and peered about, nothing was remotely familiar.

“,” he huffed as he searched this way and that for anything that could lead him back.

Wonshik turned about and started walking, his muscles screaming at him for pushing them pass their limits. Then, suddenly, he stopped. He absently glanced up through the towering treetops at the pastel pinks and oranges of sunset. A cool breeze rustled the branches and whipped pass him, chilling his skin. He sighed deeply and let his eyes flutter shut.

All the forest around him came alive in the absence of sight. As night slowly descended around him, summer cicadas awakened and sang their boisterous song. Crickets awakened to join in the chorus. Bushes rustled as small woodland animals scurried through them. In that moment of peace, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea to get lost.

When he opened his eyes again, it had gotten darker, the green of the treetops now towering shadows against the darkening sky. He let out a frustrated sigh and pulled his cellphone from the back pocket of his uniform pants. The digital clock told him it was well pass five. He pondered for a moment how long he had been running, how far out he’d gone. His thumb tapped the flashlight at the top of his screen, and a brilliant light emanated from the device. He turned around with the light, scanning in a circle over tree trunk after tree trunk, seeing no clear indication of the direction he came from. With a defeated groan, he walked forward.

For countless minutes, Wonshik fought his way through bushes, some outstretched branches snagging his blazer and pants. He was beside himself, anxiously swiping at his hair and swatting his body wherever he thought he felt the tickle of a bug crawling on him. He was beyond relieved when he emerged from the trees at a clearing beside a river, the placid water a shimmering blue, cutting through the darkness.

Wonshik turned his light towards the ground. The wild grass grown high to his knees swayed with a cold gust that made him shiver. He pressed on, marching through the growth, relieved when it cleared a few minutes down the riverbank. He collapsed next to the stream, catching himself on all fours. His phone fumbled from his hand and landed on its back, leaving him with only the natural light of a semi full moon. He panted, his arms and legs wobbly as they failed to support him. His journey had taken its toll, and he resented himself for that. He’d been too depressed to keep up his gym training, and his body was succumbing to his lessened endurance. He toppled over to his side, his head hitting hard and bouncing once before landing again.

A pitiful sound escaped from Wonshik as his head throbbed and his fingernails dug into the dirt. His body felt like a stack of boulders, still and heavy in its weariness. There was no way he could move more than the digits, and slowly but surely, he was losing consciousness. His vision started to fade, and in his haziness, he contemplated how hard he hit his head. A concussion would explain the strange things he sensed before completely passing out. The pastel pink petals that had begun to rain down all around him. The sweet scent of fresh peaches wafting through the air. The blurry sight of a young boy in traditional garb gliding towards him, and a sweet voice silently panicked as he muttered to himself:

“Eotteokaji?”

…

Wonshik groaned as he came to, suddenly feeling queasy as his body rocked gently, as if sleeping on a wave. He carefully peeled his eyes open, and involuntarily they scrunched together, the nerves struck by brightness all around him. He kept them shut and took a deep breath, realizing immediately that his back was lying against hard wood. The swaying continued and for a moment he felt like he was going to just turn over and wretch out his guts. He swallowed and braced himself, familiarizing himself with the sway of what he guessed was a boat as the nausea slipped away.

Wonshik attempted to open his eyes again, this time better adjusting to the light as it pooled into his sockets. He was stunned to realize that the glow was emanating from nature itself. The moon hung high above glittering stars, a full sphere with an ethereal luminescence. The wind was gentle as it barely shifted his clothes and grazed his hair, once again carrying that sweet peachy fragrance. Layers of outstretched branches overlay each other overhead, barely blocking the starlit sky. They were colored a blushing pink, the leaves falling like a soft shower of gumdrops landing silently on the surface of the river.

Wonshik clutched the ledge of the boat and gaped down into the water. Below the surface, swift sparks of lights appeared and disappeared. One light grew and emerged, and it wasn’t until the creature shot out of the water that he realized it was a fish. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Its scales were a multitude of shimmering blues, purples and pinks. Just as soon as it flickered into existence, it was gone again, landing back into the water with a soundless plop, beneath the ripples that erased its path, fading down into the dark depths.

“Ah, you’re awake?” That boy’s voice again, but much more cheerful this time.

So, he was real. Did he save me?

“Just relax. We'll be there soon.”

Wonshik glanced before him and saw the same silk robes from what he thought was a vision. They were blush pink, like that of the petals tumbling all around them, stark against the darkness when he first laid eyes on them, now a shimmering veil against smooth pale skin in the light. The robes fluttered against a slender frame as skinny arms flexed with each of an oar, the boy working tirelessly to usher their boat along the placid stream.

The garment slipped from his right shoulder, revealing a peculiar tattoo. Three full bloomed vanilla flowers were framed in a triangle sitting on its point. The smooth blend and soft hue of the artwork made it seem more like a painting on porcelain rather than an imprint on human skin. That is, assuming that this boy was even human. He shuddered and gently sat the oars across his lap, taking a moment to shrug the cloth back over his shoulders. When the boy glanced back at Wonshik, and soft brown eyes met his through a dirty blonde fringe, Wonshik doubted that such a beautiful person could be anything but mythical. 

“Cute,” he gasped, and quickly clamped his hands over his mouth. Wonshik’s heart stuttered, ashamed that his mind moved faster than his lips could resist. The boy blushed and scrunched his eyes shut while flashing him a wide grin. It was a smug expression, that disappeared once the strange boy was satisfied with basking in the compliment.

“Don’t worry,” he said in a soothing voice, flashing Wonshik the peace sign. “I’ll take really good care of you.”

Wonshik was so stunned by the boy's beauty that it almost slipped his mind to inquire about his earlier statement.

“Where are you taking me?” He asked, his voice a mix of worry and curiosity.

The boy gazed up at the moon, beaming high in the sky through the shifting trees and shower of blossoms. For a moment, it seemed as if his mind was lost on something that Wonshik couldn’t quite place. He turned around, grabbing the oars before continuing to row the boat along the river once more. Then, in a proud and excited voice, he announced:

“To Shangri La.”                                                                

…

“Hyung wondered off again,” chirped a youthful blonde boy with a mature voice.

His black lotus-print cardigan twisted in the wind behind him and his red shirt fluttered against his chest as he dashed forward to catch up to the man he was speaking to. The slightly taller man simply shrugged, his broad shoulders prominent when the cloth of his royal blue leaf-print suit jacket tightened. His hands were stashed in his pockets as he leisurely strolled along the narrow stone path cutting through vibrant flowerbeds, his beauty complimenting them instead of the other way around.

“No surprise there,” he said dismissively. “but you sound more excited than worried.”

Sanghyuk chuckled low and covered a sly grin behind his hand.

“Well, that’s because whenever Hyung goes to the outside world, he finds amusing things.”

“I guess,” he smirked.

Hongbin knew that by amusing things he was referring to him. He couldn’t recall how long ago Jaehwan brought him to Shangri La, or anything about his life aside from his name. His earliest memory of this place was Hyuk. He was here when he arrived and took a liking to him.  They had stuck together ever since. To Hyuk, Hongbin was entertaining, in more ways than one. The feeling was mutual.

Hyuk seemed much younger than him, but in a place frozen in time, things like age had no real bearing on anything, except to the Ancients, those who seemed as old as the place itself. By typical seniority standards, Hyuk was much older considering he was there first. For how long? He had no idea. But Shangri La was no ordinary place, and Hyuk was no ordinary man. Hongbin felt strongly about that, but something in his gut told him he didn’t want to know the details.

 In spite of his appearance, Hyuk was definitely ancient, and so was the man who’d gone wondering off to the outside as he so often did. He would do this every few days and return with a new person. Hongbin would see those people for a while then they’d disappear. Where they went and why, he didn’t know. Just as soon as he found himself contemplating those things, Hyuk would come to him. He’d forget specifics soon-after, whether it was a woman man or child, not knowing or caring. He was here to stay, and he was contended with that. So long as he had Hyuk, that’s all that really mattered.

“If this person is amusing, I guess you’ll have no use for me then.”

Hyuk threw his head back laughing, slapping Hongbin’s shoulder in the process. When he calmed down, he curled his arms around his neck and leaned against his back. Hongbin felt the warm press against him and stopped in his tracks so they both wouldn’t fall. Hyuk’s breath fanned his neck, then his earlobe as he leaned in to whisper to him.

“You think I would discard you that easily?” He asked in a menacing tone.

Hongbin released a deep sigh and turned in his arms, bringing them face to face. He lowered his head, their foreheads pressing together as he nuzzled his nose. Hyuk rewarded his gesture with a soft kiss to his lips. Hongbin slipped his hands to Hyuk’s hips, swaying in silence for a moment before cracking a mischievous smile of his own.

“You wouldn’t do that. You like me too much,” he boasted confidently. “But you’re bored, I can tell. That, doesn’t seem like a good thing.”

Sometimes Hyuk would disappear as well. Right after, he would witness rifts in the peaceful harmony of Shangri La. Time seemed to move again. The colors of the flowers would fade. The pastel skies were dotted with thick gray storm clouds. He didn’t understand what any of it meant, but his instincts told him it was something dreadful. And that Hyuk was at the epicenter of it.

“Beanie, I’m hurt,” Hyuk pouted. “What are you trying to say?”

Hyuk was playing a game with him now, daring him to be bold. Everything in Hongbin’s gut told him not to dare, less he become one of the vanished ones. But he couldn’t help himself, so his mouth moved faster than his brain could silence him.

“I’m suggesting that when you get bored, you get nasty.”

Hyuk chuckled lowly and leaned in for another kiss, this one more forceful and open, his tongue probing Hongbin’s mouth until he opened up with a moan. Hongbin’s grip on Hyuk’s cardigan tightened as their tongues slithered together, his mind swimming with heat from the possessive kiss. They separated with a smack, Hyuk only moving an inch from his face as he curled his fingers into his hair.

“You know you love it,” Hyuk growled against his lips, tightening the grip in his hair. The slight pain and heat sent chills down Hongbin’s spine. He bit his lip and stared into the angel-faced boy’s eyes.  

He lost all that he knew when he came to Shangri La, and now Hyuk was his everything. The only thing he knew about the place was its peace, its beauty and its seemingly boundless existence. He wasn’t even sure if it was tethered to any planet known to man. Hyuk was old, timeless in both beauty and wisdom, just like the other Ancients he sometimes caught glimpses of. Hyuk knew so much, yet told him nothing. Hongbin knew that he was dangerous, and that he was helplessly attached to him. He knew nothing else, had nothing else. Nothing but Hyuk and Shangri La. Hyuk gave him a knowing look, as if reading his thoughts. He smiled and took his hand, turning back in the direction he came.

“Never mind this new arrival,” Hyuk advised, tugging him along. “I’ll meet them in time I’m sure. Let us focus on other matters.”

“Where are we going?” Hongbin asked cautiously.

“We are going to do what is meant to be done in such a place as Shangri La: to bask in the pleasures of paradise.”

With that, Hongbin followed his unpredictable lover to where they resided, his mind reeling with images of what those pleasures could possibly be.