If there was another world, would there be another me?

 

~~

 

While Mingyu’s eyes were open, they remained unfocused, his mind barely registering the cream-colored wall that lay in his field of vision. Ceiling. The blurred cream canvas he was looking at was a ceiling, he realized, when he spotted an array of bulbs attached to it in organized rows. The anterior of his body was in line with a smooth, hard surface, his spine and hips harboring a slight ache from being in the same position for longer than he knew. His limbs were limp and heavy and unwilling to make much of a motion, fingers tightening and relaxing continuously as if he was testing the appendages out for the first time. He drew in his thumb, his index finger, all the way down to his pinky, instinctively moving them by what seemed like muscle memory. He grasped at nothing, his body wanting to catch a firm hold of something other than the empty air, but all he knew so far that surrounded him was that cream ceiling in front of him.

 

As he inhaled slowly and deeply, he felt life entering him, and with it he found the energy to sit up. He scanned the area left and right, finding a fluffy brown rug underneath a glass table close by, a fairly new leather sofa backed up against the wall nearest to him, small framed mirrors that decorated the following wall, and large windows that illuminated the room with more sun than the lights above him could provide in watts. He was in a tidy and fully-furnished room of a house. He wondered who the house belonged to, if not to him. None of his surroundings seemed particularly new to his eyes, but he didn't think he knew anything about the place. He stood up, noticing just then that his feet were bare against cold white tile, to wander through each room in order to find someone, anyone, who could tell him where he was and where he belonged. Despite feeling as if he had never been in this house until now, he wasn’t unfamiliar with the layout of it, finding that he was able to navigate himself with the utmost of ease. He entered a living room, his soles meeting stiff carpet as soon as he stepped in, and noticed two clocks hanging adjacent to each other on the same wall, only an inch or two apart. They were of the same design, round glass showcasing silver bars on its circumference as reference spots in lieu of numbers. The clocks displayed almost the same time of day, almost, the both of them off from each other by a mere two minutes.

 

~~

 

He recalled a memory, a fuzzy and vague image materializing in his mind. There was a window, more than likely one from the house he was in, open wide, the cool outside air gently sliding in, accompanied by warm sunlight settling on skin. Whose skin? His memory provided a picture of a boy resting on the window sill, eyes closed and head leaned back against the wall, hands resting on his jeans, feet dangling save for his left toe making contact with the floor. It was a still-shot, everything absolutely motionless, but his memory told him time was moving then, even proving it with the wrinkles in the boy’s shirt subtly shifting with every breath. Mingyu could barely make out the boy’s face despite every other feature of his memory being perfectly clear. The boy's face was clear, even, but Mingyu just could not read what it looked like, his mind ignoring what he thought was an important detail. Like recalling a dream, he was unable to register who the boy was. He thought that maybe the boy might have been him, questioning how he could've felt such sun tickling his skin otherwise, but he also thought that it couldn’t be. The boy in his memory opened his eyes.

 

Mingyu found himself sitting, back hunched slightly, on a bench, in front of a grand piano. Without knowing what else to do but to play it, he lifted a hand up by instinct, pausing when his index finger was just above a glossy white key, staring at the vacant shelf before him where a sheet of music should have been. Gradually, he pressed down, the key heavier than he anticipated, the resulting note barely audible if there was even a note that sounded out at all. He pressed down again, harder, faster, and a high pitched tone sang out through the closed lid of the instrument, an echo bouncing off the walls of the spacious room. Upon hearing the sound, he urged his hand to continue, but being unable to do so, his hand dropped to his side. He understood immediately that he didn’t know a single thing about playing the piano. Why had he thought that he did?

 

He explored the house some more—it was the same one as before—entering a room that he felt most inclined to walk into. Against the back wall was a queen-sized bed that was almost intimidatingly large, especially if it was for a single person. It would have been too lonely otherwise, a sleeping body being able to only take up less than half of the area that the mattress offered. He felt that he shouldn’t be alone in this house, that someone should be there with him, considering at least this factor, but he was for sure the only one occupying the building. He had already wandered through most of the rooms and hadn’t heard a sound the entire time. Not the sound of furniture moving, not the sound of items dropping, not the sound of a voice. He spotted a bookshelf only half-full in the bedroom, one of its shelves holding nothing but picture frames. He walked towards the bookshelf to get a closer look, to try to find out more about anything he could about the household. Of the five pictures spread between pieces of decoration on the shelf, there were only two boys that appeared. In the frame was a dark background and the two boys with white-cast faces from being too close to the camera’s flash. One was a cheerful-looking boy with bright blond hair that matched the joy in his expression, his charming and carefree smiles seeming to take over the entire space of the pictures he appeared in. Though the cheerful boy was indeed intriguing, the other boy, the one looking over the blond fondly, was the one Mingyu found staring at a little longer. It was the boy in his memory, the boy that might have been him. It might have been, but he still could not be sure, for what he knew still had not extended past his name and age.

 

A few shelves above were two move picture frames, too high for anyone to see without bringing the frames down. Mingyu reached for them simultaneously, holding a picture in each of his hands. They were the same picture, each in the same style of frame, each the same size, exact duplicates of each other, each picture containing what seemed like two of almost the same person, almost because the frame of the shoulders were slightly different.

 

~~

 

He was sitting outside in the open air without a ceiling enclosing him, the air a bit chilly, particularly with him being shaded by a dark green parasol above him. His elbow was resting on something cool. A metal table. And across from him sat the source of a hearty laughter, a boy he knew from somewhere, leaning towards him slightly. His wide smile full of oddly square teeth captivated all of Mingyu’s attention, and the moment Mingyu thought that maybe there was something radiating from inside the boy was when he remembered where he saw him.

 

It was the picture on the bookshelf. The boy in front of him was wearing the exact same expression as he did in the photo. A major difference between when the picture was taken and now was that the boy had black hair, though the style was similar, and a small silver hoop was attached to his left lobe. The hoop disappeared when the boy’s head dipped below the table to pick up something he dropped. It was a fork, Mingyu discovered when the boy’s hand resurfaced before his face did.

 

“I swear citrus and desserts go together. Trust me,” Mingyu heard the boy say from under the table.

 

The boy’s face, when it came back up, was not as cheerful as it was when it went down. Mingyu could detect a bit of confusion and frustration that emerged as the boy’s smile faded. There was a tense pause, a silent exchange occurring between the two of them, as the boy slowly place the fork onto the table. He studied Mingyu’s face, which likely showed an equal degree of confusion.

 

“Who are you?” the boy asked with hostility. It was as if the boy who emerged from under the table was not the same as the one who dived under it.

 

It was something Mingyu wanted to know himself. Who was he? Who was Kim Mingyu? The question burned at his throat, but it was another that escaped.

 

“Who are you?”

 

The boy ran his fingers through his hair, scratching furiously at an itch of irritation that couldn’t seem to be calmed. He rubbed at his eyes as if he hoped he would wake up, but when he glanced at Mingyu again, he sighed as if he had accepted reality.

 

I can’t believe this, the boy muttered under his breath before letting out, “Soonyoung. Tell me, what’s your purpose? Why are you here?”

 

“I don’t know,” Mingyu responded immediately. He couldn’t remember what he was doing just before that moment, or the moment before. He didn’t know how long ago his last memory had been from. He didn’t know why at that moment, he was sitting at an outside table of a cafe with the boy he could only remember from pictures. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

 

Soonyoung let out a dry laugh. “Like I would know.”

 

Mingyu changed the wording of his question. “Why are we here?”

 

“Well, I,” Soonyoung started, “came here with someone who wouldn't believe me when I said that lemon pies were good. I came to prove a point. That they were good.”

 

Someone. Was that someone Mingyu? It was only logical to think it was, seeing that they were the only two customers sitting outside. But it was strange, Mingyu loved lemon pies. Why would he have to be proven that they were?

 

“Who is that someone?”

 

Mingyu looked down at a plate that he didn’t realize was in front of him until now. It contained a slice of a glazed fruit pie topped with a frothy white cream, its peak scorched slightly to a golden brown. He looked past it to see an empty plate in front of Soonyoung, only cream and crumbs left behind with a fork. The second fork now on Soonyoung’s side after counting the one he picked up off the floor.

 

“That someone is special to me.” Soonyoung said it while looking straight at Mingyu, who then in a nervous breath. He looked down again, not knowing how to respond.

 

“You can have it,” Soonyoung said after a moment of silence that consisted of Mingyu looking at the pie and Soonyoung looking at him. “I mean if you like lemon meringue pie.”

 

The pie was in front of him, untouched and appetizingly tempting, but for some reason, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t meant for him. He couldn’t bring himself to lift a finger toward the dessert, even if Soonyoung gave him permission to. He didn’t have a fork to eat it with, anyway.

 

He waited for Soonyoung to say something else because Mingyu didn’t know what else to say. Soonyoung never said another word until the waiter stopped by to ask if the two of them were finished with their plates.

 

“Yeah. We’re done here.”

 

~~

 

Mingyu was still, breath stopped and body stiffened, his eyes opened widely, dry enough for a small pool of tears to well, only to run off the side of his face without properly being able to moisten his eyes. He couldn’t help it, not even being able to blink off the shock that came to him when he discovered himself on a bed with Soonyoung on the other side, fast asleep and lying on his stomach, head faced towards Mingyu, and torso bare, the covers revealing just enough of the boy’s body for Mingyu to know that.

 

With slow and tense arms, he brought his hand to his own chest, discovering that it also lacked clothing. He swallowed his nerves before trailing his hand down lower, sighing a small breath of relief when he found that he at least had underwear on. At least. He blinked several times, finally, his eyes watering excessively at this point to compensate for his lack of blinking previously.

 

Carefully rising into a sitting position, not wanting to wake the boy at his side, he looked around the room to find that he knew this room. It was the same one he had been in before with the same bookshelf off to the side, the same pictures, though they were too far to see clearly, he could recognize them, and the same windows. He could only come to the conclusion that the boy in the pictures, aside from Soonyoung, was himself. He had been sleeping in this bedroom with Soonyoung, so it would have been strange if there were pictures of someone else. It was a logical conclusion, his mind taking over his thoughts because his heart didn’t have a say.

 

“Good morning, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung croaked, startling Mingyu, who had tried not to wake him.

 

Wonwoo? Who was Wonwoo? Why did it have such a familiar ring?

 

“Who’s Wonwoo?”

 

The next thing Mingyu knew, Soonyoung was sitting up, draping the covers over himself. Mingyu didn’t miss them though, the pink bite-marks, no doubt fresh judging from their color, that decorated the boy’s chest. For some reason, they made him curious. He didn’t really see why it wouldn’t have been he who had made the marks, but he couldn’t be sure. It made sense, but he couldn’t be convinced, especially not with Soonyoung’s reaction. Mingyu wanted confirmation, for some reason feeling unsettled that the marks might not have been from him.

 

With swift movements, his limbs no longer restricted by the need to keep things quiet, he pulled Soonyoung towards him by the back of his neck and settled his jaws onto the unmarked stretch of skin between his neck and his shoulder, discourteously sinking his teeth and lightly the warm surface despite his instincts telling him not to.

 

He should have listened to what his instincts had to say because he was soon met with a harsh shove that nearly knocked him off of the bed, but it gave him a strange sense of satisfaction when he saw the shape of his teeth indented on Soonyoung’s shoulder. He wasn’t really sure why he did that in the first place, a small part of his mind was telling him that it was to compare the new mark to the already-present ones, another part of his mind told him that was a lie, but he didn’t regret doing it. He enjoyed seeing the indentation remain, unlike the red marks on Soonyoung’s chest that had smooth surfaces by now, and he almost wanted to do it again despite Soonyoung giving him a warning glare with a flustered blush.

 

“Get out,” Soonyoung muttered lowly, his mouth open for a second longer to call a name that didn’t end up being said.

 

Did Soonyoung even know his name?

 

“Where do I go?”

 

Soonyoung ignored him for a moment to get off the bed and scavenge a dresser for clothes, first finding jeans, then a shirt, then a jacket. Mingyu watched as he put on each article of clothing, uncertain of what to do otherwise. When Soonyoung’s arms found the sleeves of his jacket, he turned to exit the room, he left Mingyu with a command of “Then stay here, I’ll leave. Just go back to sleep.”

 

“What if I can’t?” Mingyu blurted out thoughtlessly.

 

Soonyoung adjusted the collar of his jacket. “I don’t care how you keep yourself busy. Sleep, don’t sleep, whatever. Count sheep or something.”

 

Mingyu waited until he heard the front door shut to lie back on the bed, the back of his head meeting with a fluffy pillow. He imagined the pillow as the body of a sheep and started counting.

 

~~

 

The baby blue skies from outside the window reflected off the polish on the surface of a wooden table. Mingyu was faced with two red apples, one with a bite taken out, just recently judging by the flesh that was still a pale apricot color without even a tickle of browning. Finding himself alone in the same house he had somehow been visiting all this time, there was no one else that could have taken a bite out of the apple but him. He didn’t remember it, but he had to have. He didn’t remember how he had gotten there, but he had to have been the one to make his way there, his journey lost somewhere along with the memory lapses he had. What was the last thing he remembered? Why couldn’t he connect the dots?

 

He reached for an apple, the uneaten one, and brought the fruit to his parted lips. He hesitated before breaking its smooth waxy skin and taking a bite, only to place this second apple next to the first. Looking at the apples carefully, the first one starting to darken from oxidation in the bitten part, he could see that they were the same. Their shapes were different, but the bites were made by the same person, that person being Mingyu. Only, Mingyu couldn’t recall ever eating the first apple. Why couldn’t he remember? Whatever appetite he might have had earlier was gone, and he no longer had the intent to finish either apple.

 

He stood up to try to find an answer to the questions he couldn’t quite form, letting his legs guide him when they seemed to have a better sense of direction than his head. They lead him to a mirror that stretched along a wall. The mirror was the wall, the edges either touching a corner of the room or the floor. In the mirror, he saw himself approach, steps gradually coming to a stop. He looked at his reflection in the eyes, feeling not at all at home. For some reason, he couldn’t convince himself that the reflection was truly of him, though he knew it couldn’t be anyone else. He felt out of place while looking at himself. It wasn’t that something was off about the reflection, but it just didn’t seem like him. He was reminded of his confusing memory of the boy sitting on a window and realized upon seeing his reflection that the memory was of him. He realized it mentally, but his gut didn’t seem to agree. Discomfort entered his lungs and he turned away, unable to take the suffocating feeling anymore. Even though it was Mingyu alone with his own reflection, it felt as if there were two separate people in the same place, and that of the two, he was the one that didn’t belong.

 

~~

 

It was loud where he rested, a clunky rattling noise startling him and causing him to abruptly try to sit up, but after unexpectedly hitting a wall, he lay right back down, rubbing his aching forehead and opening his eyes to see where he was. His head was encased in a greyish-white plastic-looking tube, and a sense of anxiety fell before him when he felt trapped being in some unknown place in some unknown thing. His heartbeat accelerated from panic as he rotated his head left and right, the rattling noises ceased and a radioed voice spoke somewhere above his head, near his ears. He swallowed his anticipation.

“I promise you we’re almost done. We only need a couple more shots, and then we’ll be finished. Do you want to take a break? We can let you out for a few minutes and then finish up if you need.”

 

He didn’t know how a break could help him when he didn’t know what was going on, but the calm voice was calm enough for Mingyu to ease some of the tension that found themselves a home in his shoulders. He didn't know who had spoken to him, nor did he know what they had been doing and why. He debated on asking then and there, or until they were "finished". Choosing to remain silent, he waited out the short moment longer that was promised, which he had hoped would be ten seconds but was in actuality more like ten minutes. The rattling noises continued as dull thumps as if someone was on the other side of the plastic and striking the side of the tube as a source of entertainment. Mingyu certainly wasn't entertained. Having counted his breaths in and out to pass the time, he had reached about one hundred before the voice was radioed once again to finally announce that they were done.

 

Mingyu felt his body being moved along with a mechanical whir and he almost felt ecstatic as his head left the tube. He sat up like he had been wanting to for a while, lifting his arms high above himself to crank out the grouchiness that built up in his muscles as he was still for so long. He scanned the room as he let his arms fall back down to take in his surrounding now that he could. The room wasn't especially small, but bulky equipment taking up so much space made it seem so. A large window was directly across from him, and the person on the other side of the window waved at him. It was dark, and the only thing Mingyu could make out from that room was the circular glare of their glasses reflecting a computer screen.

"I'll go make a copy of these to put in the charts. If you could just stay seated, the doctor will be right in," the radioed voice said once again. It was much quieter, now that he heard it from outside of the surround sound.

Mingyu looked down at his chest when he noticed his clothes felt abnormally loose. He wasn't wearing clothes, he was wearing a single, pale-blue gown, the fabric so far from his skin that he almost felt like his body was exposed. He wondered if he had been in some accident he couldn't remember. Why else would he look like a patient? What was it that was done to him just then, a test of some sort? Why was a doctor coming in to see him? What was it that they were examining? Did this have anything to do with his memory lapses?

Just then, he tuned his attention to the turning doorknob as a well-dressed man entered holding a manilla folder. The man swiftly extended his hand when he reached Mingyu's reach and introduced himself as Hong Jisoo.

"I'm sorry the scan took so long. The technician told me you panicked a bit in the middle of it, so we had to redo some of the scans to get pretty pictures.”

 

Mingyu grasped the hand and allowed the doctor to shake it gently. "I'm Mingyu."

 

Dr. Hong let out a confused grunt as he promptly opened his folder to look over its contents. "I’m sorry, did you say Mingyu? Not Wonwoo?"

 

It wasn't an expected response, and Mingyu suddenly welcomed back the tension he had stowed away so quickly before. He hadn’t expected that name to show up here. Or anywhere, really.

"Yes. Kim Mingyu," he nodded abruptly.

"Hmm," Dr. Hong said with knitted eyebrows and pursed lips. "Sit tight for just a moment, please."

 

With not a single question appeased with an answer, Mingyu was left to look around the room again, reading the same text on the same posters again and again until someone came into the room to spare him from the awkward loneliness. Mingyu didn't know who it was, but it wasn't the doctor.

 

"Hi, I'm Seungkwan. Dr. Hong told me to bring you to your room while he speaks with your guardian. If you could just follow me."

 

Mingyu obeyed, standing up for a few seconds to let his legs wake up, and followed the nurse down the complicated maze of white halls.

"You said Dr. Hong is talking to my guardian?"

Seungkwan turned back with a friendly smile, still leading the way expertly. "That's right. They're discussing the results of your test."

 

But will they discuss the results with Mingyu? Was there a reason he shouldn't know?

"Can I ask who my guardian is?"

 

Seungkwan pressed a button on the wall, opening large doors that blocked off a section of the hallway. He guided them through the doors.

"It's the person you came in with."

But he didn't know who he had come in with.

"The person I came in with?"

"Mhmm, Soonyoung, right? I think that was his na — ah, here we are. Room 432. You can just wait in here until the doctor comes in."

Mingyu bowed as the nurse left, and he let himself rest on the nearest chair. He didn't understand what was happening. He didn't understand why. Soonyoung seemed to hate him, but he claimed himself as Mingyu's guardian? There was something missing to all of this, none of it made sense. Mingyu didn't know why he was even in the hospital, and he didn't like that he was. And where did Wonwoo even fit in all this? He didn't like not knowing anything, that people were hiding things from him when he felt like he had a right to know. He didn't like any of it.

 

~~

 

There was fire running through his veins, his breath expelling the heat from his body. Someone else’s body was pressed against his, hip to hip and mouth to mouth, and he didn’t hate the feeling. Mingyu was squinting in the dimly lit room to discover who the other party was, feeling a sense of familiarity as his eyes were adjusting. In his quest for identification, he was suddenly pushed down onto a soft, bouncy surface that knocked his breath out.

 

“Wonwoo?”

 

Wonwoo again. What did Wonwoo have to do with him?

 

Mingyu recognized Soonyoung’s voice, as well as the shape of the silhouette that he could barely make out. He couldn’t see much detail, but he was mesmerized by Soonyoung, who was looking at him with such a wanton gaze that he hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t help but think this was dangerous, getting the feeling that he was so desired by someone who looked so desperate, by someone he felt something for when he shouldn’t have. All of this was a bad situation and he couldn’t help but want to carry this out when he should have stopped, but Soonyoung was too alluring for his own good. Soonyoung suddenly pulled away and lowered himself, reaching for Mingyu’s belt when Mingyu let out a small surprised yelp.

 

Soonyoung paused, but in that moment, Mingyu reached out and grabbed the collar of Soonyoung’s shirt and pulled the boy closer, cutting him off when he was about to say something.

 

“Won-”

 

Wonwoo. Mingyu knew that it was the name Soonyoung was about to say, and for not being Wonwoo, Mingyu had been called it too many times for comfort, but why would Soonyoung call him that when Mingyu was the one in front of him? Mingyu wanted to smother the feeling that he might have been a replacement, he wanted to smother Wonwoo’s name away from Soonyoung’s lips with his own.

 

His fingers trailed up Soonyoung’s cheek, the back of his hand brushing aside stray damp hairs before playing with his lobe, gently twisting the hoop attached to it. He couldn’t feel Soonyoung kissing him back at first, but eventually, he did. In between the kisses, Mingyu looked carefully at the boy in front of him, how his shirt had rumpled and was off one shoulder, how his lips were parted and pouted, and how the soft yellow light reflected in his eyes. He was beautiful, and Mingyu nothing more than to take everything in, to bathe in Soonyoung, to breathe him in. He wanted Soonyoung to look at him, to love him, to want him, and he didn’t know if these thoughts were a temporary flame in the heat of the moment, but it didn’t change how he felt right then.

 

Soonyoung reached behind Mingyu to turn off the lamp, one of two that were on either side of them, and the darkness swallowed them up with their self-control.

 

As his hands found the hem of Soonyoung’s shirt, he hoped that Soonyoung knew who he was, even though Mingyu never heard his name roll off Soonyoung’s tongue even once. At least, not that he could remember. He hoped Soonyoung knew Mingyu. He hoped and he feared, but at the end of it all, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know and he didn’t want to find out.

 

~~

 

He drew his breath, gasping sporadically, hiccupping while hunched over while sitting on a toilet with its lid down. His voice bounced off the narrow walls and his throat felt tight. There was no doubt he could smell alcohol on his breath. He wiped the tears escaping his burning eyes, not knowing why he was so sad, not knowing why he felt so terrified and alone. His leg bounced up and down and his hand rested on the cold metal border as he tried to calm himself down. He had to calm down. His chest rumbled but he couldn’t stop crying, the pain in his chest making him clutch his shirt tightly.

 

“Wonwoo…”

 

Mingyu choked when he heard the voice on the other side of the stall, knowing that it was Soonyoung there, again, calling for Wonwoo like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like Mingyu didn’t exist. Like he didn’t know it was Mingyu occupying the stall and not the Wonwoo he seemed to be so fond of. Soonyoung was always there, but he was never there for Mingyu. Mingyu stifled a cough, trying to quiet himself. He knew Soonyoung couldn’t see him even through the small gap on the sides of the stall doors, but he still felt the need to hide. He didn’t want to be there right now. He didn’t want to be near Soonyoung, nor in what alcohol-scented bathroom he was in. The faint sound of muffled pop music through the walls told him he was in some club on fifth avenue, and he surely didn’t want anything to do with that at the moment. He just wanted to be alone in silence, to disappear into nothingness.

 

Mingyu flinched when Soonyoung spoke again.

 

“Open up, Wonwoo, please. Don’t be like this…”

 

He felt a warm drop fall onto his forearm, and it wasn’t until then that he realized that he was the one crying now. He didn’t understand why Soonyoung affected him so much, why listening to Soonyoung talk past him hurt so much. He didn’t know what kind of gravitational force it was that made him want Soonyoung to want him, but it was a terrifying one. He wanted for the moment to pass and for Soonyoung to give up. There was no use, anyways, the one Soonyoung was looking for wasn’t there. Mingyu didn’t know when he realized or accepted it, but he now knew there was another him, and that other him was Wonwoo.

 

He hated Wonwoo. He hated being Wonwoo to others. He hated not being Wonwoo.

 

“Let’s go home, okay? We’ll go home and make some tea and watch a movie. Does that sound good?”

 

Mingyu shut his eyes. “No.” His voice came out hoarse, so he cleared his throat before trying again. “No, I don’t want to go home.” He didn’t want to be alone with Soonyoung. Not right then. He thought that he might break down if he faced him.

 

“Are you sure?” Soonyoung sounded unconvinced. “It doesn’t matter to me either way, really.”

 

It was almost irritating how caring Soonyoung sounded, especially knowing that if he knew it was Mingyu his tone would have been very different. Why did Mingyu care about him so much, anyway?

 

“Can you please get me a drink? I think I’ll feel better if I do. Something strong.”

 

“Huh? O-okay… sure. I’ll be right back.”

 

When Mingyu heard the pop song get louder and then quieter again, he slowly opened the stall door, peeking to make sure Soonyoung wasn’t there. He slipped out of the bathroom into the darkness of the club, a light temporarily shining into his face before it rotated to another direction. It was musky, sweaty bodies moving to a throbbing beat that caught onto Mingyu’s heart, making it bounce along with it.

 

A chill ran down his arms when a voice teased his ear.

 

“You don’t look very happy to be here.”

 

Mingyu turned, backing away at the same time. He was greeted by a thick mop of dark, textured hair at eye level, and gentle eyes when he looked down. He didn’t know what to respond since the guy wasn’t wrong. He shrugged.

 

“I would rather be here than home.”

 

Home. The word felt almost wrong to say, an empty shell of a word that he forced out of his mouth. The stranger seemed to have noticed.

 

“How do you feel about pancakes? I know a place that makes the fluffiest pancakes. My treat.”

 

He didn’t even know the guy’s name or his intentions, but frankly, the idea of food and getting away from all those people wasn’t unappealing. He nodded.

 

“I’m Seungcheol, by the way,” the stranger said as he offered a hand.

 

“Min…”

 

He hesitated midway, a thought intruding him. He was tempted to say Wonwoo’s name instead.

 

“Min?”

 

Mingyu snapped out of his thoughts.

 

“Sorry, Mingyu. I’m Mingyu.”

 

Seungcheol smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

 

Mingyu would have responded, but he stopped when a tug on his arm made him look back. The look on Soonyoung’s face shattered his resolve to leave, guilt taking over any other emotion.

 

“He’s with me,” Soonyoung told Seungcheol. “Sorry.”

 

Seungcheol raised his hands to show that he understood Mingyu was off limits.

 

Mingyu swallowed as Soonyoung brought him to a corner. It was cooler since fewer people were around, but that meant he couldn’t be camouflaged by sweaty dancing bodies. But what was the point since Soonyoung found him already?

 

Soonyoung had found him in the crowd, but Mingyu wondered when he would truly find Mingyu.

 

Without a word, Soonyoung handed him a glass with a translucent red drink, keeping a close eye on him like Mingyu was a prisoner.

 

Mingyu held the glass to his nose. Cherries.

 

Soonyoung had his own drink, a bottle of beer, and as he tipped his head back to chug, Mingyu did the same.

 

~~

 

“Mingyu… right?”

 

Mingyu blinked open his eyes and assessed the unfamiliar place. Living room? No… office? He sat up on the couch he was laying on and tidied himself as best as he could, smoothing out his hair and straightening his shirt. What was he doing in a place like this? He patted down the wrinkles in his shirt until he noticed the guy staring at him was someone he knew from somewhere. Sometime recently.

 

“Seung… Seungcheol?”

 

A gentle smile confirmed it. “You remembered!”

 

Mingyu nervously smiled in response. He tapped his fingers on his knees.

“Where is this place?”

 

“It’s my office. I’m a hypnotist.”

 

“Hypnotist? Then why were you at the club?”

 

Mingyu was surprised by a hearty laughter.

 

“It’s good for stress-relief. It’s only a coincidence that you ended up being my patient.”

 

“Patient?”

 

Seungcheol clicked his pen. “Before we get into that, I want to ask you a few questions. First, what’s your name and age?”

 

“Kim Mingyu, and I’m twenty-three,” Mingyu recited.

 

“Okay,” Seungcheol said as he scribbled down some notes. “And what kind of things do you like? What are you drawn to?”

 

Did people count?

 

“Soonyoung.”

 

“Uh-huh, and do you know anything about your family?”

 

Mingyu opened his mouth, but then closed it. He opened it again. “I don’t have a family.”

Seungcheol noted it, too busy to look at Mingyu.

 

“And one more thing. Do you remember what you were doing twenty minutes ago?”

 

Twenty minutes ago? What was he doing twenty minutes ago?

 

“I don’t know. I… I have these memory lapses…”

 

“Do they happen often?”

 

Mingyu wondered what kind of answer he was looking for with all these questions.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And do you have a hard time with your daily life because of them?”

 

“I don’t… know. See, there’s… Uh…”

 

Mingyu didn’t know how to word what he wanted to say. Seungcheol looked up from his notes in curiosity.

 

“There’s someone else. Um, another me, I think. Wonwoo. I think.”

 

“Is there anything you know about Wonwoo?”

 

Mingyu was surprised that Seungcheol it so well. Maybe he didn’t understand.

 

“No, I mean he’s, uh, there’s me and there’s him, and we’re both um, the same… Like he’s me. But he’s not.”

 

“You’re both living in the same body, right?”

 

The world almost seemed to still when Mingyu admitted it with a slow nod. He never thought anyone would understand it, but there Seungcheol was, explaining it perfectly without a hiccup.

 

“Of the two of you, do you know who the main is?”

 

Mingyu didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to say what he already knew but wanted to deny, but there was only one truth, and if he didn’t accept it, he was lying to the world and himself.

 

“Wonwoo.”

 

He was sick of hearing his name, of others putting Wonwoo before him. He wanted to protest, to yell out that he was there, too, living and breathing, but the world only seemed to care about Wonwoo. He felt dizzy, and as he felt his consciousness being driven away, he could hear Seungcheol’s faded voice.

 

“I’ll see you next time.”

 

~~

 

He felt himself falling backward, eyes closed, arms outstretched, the Earth swaying beneath him. Before he could try to catch himself, his back had slapped painfully against some body of water, his skin tingling angrily, and when he was submerged, he became frigid from the cold. Swinging his arms sluggishly through the water’s resistance, he lost himself in a traffic of bubbles when he opened his eyes to try to find a way out. When he found the surface, he inhaled quickly, chlorine-scented water going up his nose and throat, burning his lungs as he started hacking uncontrollably. Panic-mode , him trying to satisfy his anxious heart’s need for oxygen and his body’s rejection of the water, resulting in short gasps and huge gulps, choking and wheezing. His veins felt hot as it blood pumped rapidly with the fear that he was going to die.

 

Immediate relief came over him when he felt something strong and sturdy pull him in a sure direction. He let himself stop struggling when he could finally breathe. His lungs were sore and he still felt the need to cough, but he no longer felt like he was in danger. He let himself be dragged across the pool by the person holding him tight.

 

“Jesus ing Christ, Wonwoo,” said a frustrated voice in his ear. Soonyoung’s voice.

 

Mingyu let himself be held by Soonyoung, and though the boy was fuming, he wrapped his arms around his neck in need of comfort. “Soon-” he let out what his raspy voice allowed him before clearing his throat.

 

“.”

 

Mingyu was more than relieved to be hearing Soonyoung’s voice.

 

“Don’t-”

 

Mingyu coughed some more.

 

“Don’t what. Don’t what, Wonwoo?”

 

“Don’t let Wonwoo do that again,” he whispered.

 

Soonyoung stopped making his way to the stairs, but the two were in shallow enough water to stand. Mingyu held Soonyoung more closely regardless, needing someone to hold him steady as his mind was so much a mess he had to think hard to even stand straight.

 

Soonyoung pushed him away slightly and held his face with both hands, squinting his eyes with examination. “Mingyu?” he asked finally.

 

Mingyu was surprised, not sure of when he told Soonyoung his name. He swallowed, but the lump in his throat only lodged itself more stubbornly. His eyes were hot, and he could have blamed it on the chlorine, but there wasn’t a moment to do it, and he just let the tears fall and the sound of sniffles surround them as his lack of a verbal response confirmed Soonyoung’s intuition.

 

Soonyoung’s tone became much less stern. It was interrogative but not accusative. “Were you the one that threw yourself in the water?”

 

Mingyu let his head fall onto Soonyoung’s shoulder before shaking no. Soonyoung let him stay there, and Mingyu didn’t question why. He cleared his throat again. “Don’t let Wonwoo disappear.”

 

Don’t let me disappear.

 

Mingyu felt a hand go through his sopping hair. Soonyoung was comforting him.

 

“I won’t.

 

It was enough reassurance for Mingyu, and in his relief, his legs gave out, but Soonyoung was there to catch him. Surprisingly, Soonyoung carried him to the stairs with such ease that Mingyu wondered how much of a burden he was used to carrying on his shoulders.

 

“How did you know my name?” Mingyu asked when they had some time to rest.

 

“Seungcheol told me.”

 

The hypnotist told him. Was it that Soonyoung asked? Was Soonyoung curious about him at all?

 

“Did he tell you anything else?”

 

Maybe it was because Soonyoung was opening up to Mingyu, or maybe it was because Mingyu looked so exhausted, but Soonyoung didn’t oppose the question.

 

“He told me he didn’t know what caused you to appear, but he didn’t think you were dangerous.”

 

“What about you? Do you think I am?”

 

“Of course. Anyone who isn’t Wonwoo living in Wonwoo’s body is dangerous. That’s just how it is.”

 

Mingyu paused.

 

“You seem like you’re used to this.”

Soonyoung scoffed. “Is it that obvious?”

 

“How many are there, then?”

 

“Right now, there’s just you and Wonwoo.”

 

Now?

 

“Then, before… were there more?”

 

Soonyoung cast his eyes downward, and after a few moments of saying nothing, Mingyu decided to let it go. His energy was spent and he didn’t have the will to pry, and he was sure Soonyoung didn’t have the will to explain.

 

~~

 

The air was hot, damp, and suffocating, fog clouding Mingyu’s vision. His skin felt sticky, his fringe clinging onto his forehead and warm droplets rolling down his cheek. The sound of water dripping onto a small puddle echoed like a ticking clock with lagging seconds, and if one was left to the sound for too long they might have gone crazy. That was what Mingyu told himself as he lethargically wrapped a towel around his waist, wiping away the mirror with his hand so he could see his reflection, but after looking at himself, something seemed wrong.

 

He leaned over the sink for closer examination, scrutinizing his face, blindly looking for something he didn’t know he was looking for. The face that stared back at him didn’t seem like him somehow, but he knew the guy in the mirror from somewhere. Something tugged him from the back of his mind with every wipe of the mirror and every other look, and he repeated the cycle of wiping and staring and wiping and staring in hopes that analyzing the same piece of information would lead him to remember where he had seen such a face. And eventually, it came to him along with discomfort lining the walls of his stomach.

 

When he realized that he recognized his reflection as not Mingyu, but Wonwoo, he scowled.

 

He turned and turned the hot side of the faucet and cupped his hands under the running water. He didn’t wait for it to warm up before he splashed the water onto his face over and over like a machine programmed to do only one thing. He continued when the water started to burn his hands and face, checking the mirror every so often to see if Wonwoo was still there. His complexion was reddening and his expression darkening, but he couldn’t wash away Wonwoo from his face. He felt sick.

 

He didn’t know if it meant that he was becoming more like Wonwoo, or maybe Wonwoo was becoming more like him, but he didn’t like it. Maybe Mingyu was seeing him because he was more conscious of him, but that would have been him admitting that he was a part of Wonwoo and not vice versa. It meant that Mingyu was admitting that he didn’t quite have a self, even if he had the sense of one. He lacked something that meant being someone. Fear grumbled in his gut and his body felt numb when he thought it might mean he could disappear without anyone knowing, and without anyone missing him.

 

He could disappear like the others did.

 

He didn’t know the others, but he knew they were there. Soonyoung didn’t tell him directly, but Mingyu could figure at least that much out. And if the others were no longer here, then it meant that Mingyu might not be either at some point in the future. But Mingyu, he just wanted to live. He didn’t want to disappear like the others.

 

He wanted to live.

 

He could ask the question of why he appeared in this world, of what reason there might have been for it, but there was no one to ask that would provide him an answer, and he was left feeling lost in the small space of the bathroom, himself staring into the mirror and Wonwoo staring right back.

 

~~

 

Mingyu felt like he wanted to cry, but it took him some time to realize that the hiccups and sniffles that filled the room weren’t coming from him, but from a seemingly fragile body next to him. With a slouched back and dejected shoulders, Soonyoung seemed so meager, and Mingyu didn’t know how to help.

 

It was the first time he saw such a side of Soonyoung, his barriers down and as defenseless as a lamb. Delicate. Vulnerable to the point where even Mingyu was uneasy. Should he say something? Should he keep silent and let Soonyoung’s sobs fill the space between them? His uncertainty was almost painful, but not as painful as seeing Soonyoung’s dispirited figure. He reached for Soonyoung’s shoulder, hesitantly at first, but more surely as he neared him. With a gentle motion, he rested his hand on Soonyoung’s shoulder blade, then tested light comforting motions up and down.

 

Soonyoung slowly turned to face him, his face distorted with a contagious heartache that affected Mingyu right away. Mingyu wanted to know why, who was at fault for making Soonyoung so sad, but he didn’t feel like it was his place to ask. The most he could bring himself to do was to be of comfort if Soonyoung allowed. To his surprise, Soonyoung accepted, but did Soonyoung know it was Mingyu he was holding on to?

 

Soonyoung was small in Mingyu’s arms, more so than Mingyu realized. He was small and Mingyu felt like his embrace could swallow Soonyoung up whole, and he almost wanted for it to happen so Mingyu could protect him. At that moment, it was all he could think about. All he wanted was to protect Soonyoung from whatever it was that caused him to turn into such a state.

 

The front of Mingyu’s shirt became damp as muffled sniffles dulled down. Soonyoung hadn’t pulled away quite yet.

 

“Sorry,” came a small voice from beneath Mingyu.

 

He wondered what the apology was for. And for whom. He stuttered a response of, “U-uh…”

 

“Sorry for being kind of a jerk,” Soonyoung clarified.

 

For what, Mingyu now understood. For whom, though...

 

“Mingyu.”

 

Mingyu couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down his body when he heard his name being whispered so softly. It was the first time Soonyoung said his name so… calmly, without anger or surprise. It was just his name, as plain as it was, without any kind of burden attached. It was free-standing, but while it was less of a threat, to Mingyu, it held more danger that way, because it meant that Mingyu wouldn’t imagine that being with Soonyoung was completely impossible. It meant that Mingyu could trick himself into thinking that maybe he had a chance.

 

But what Mingyu was most curious of was how long Soonyoung had known that it was Mingyu was in front of him. but with a bit of courage, he did anyway.

 

“Soonyoung.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Mingyu bit his lip.

“When did you realize it was me? And not Wonwoo, I mean.”

 

Soonyoung sighed into Mingyu’s shirt.

 

“Secret.”

 

Having expended all the courage he had and not enough to question him further, Mingyu sighed back, holding the small boy more tightly, securely. He realized that this was probably a one-time thing and that the next time they meet, Soonyoung would have hardened his exterior once again, but Mingyu didn’t mind in that moment. He just wanted to remain the way they were, not wanting to let Soonyoung go. He didn’t want to let Soonyoung go to Wonwoo, but it wasn’t really his choice.

 

All he could hope for was that he could stay like that for a little while longer, with the world consisting of him and Soonyoung, and no one else, and nothing else.

 

~~

 

He recalled a memory, one that took place outside past sundown, and seeing a blond Soonyoung smile brightly at him was enough for him to realize the memory didn’t belong to Mingyu, but more likely, Wonwoo. It must have been from some time ago, as Soonyoung’s hair was bleached blond and his left ear had not yet been pierced. His cheeks seemed fuller and his skin less worn. He wondered how long ago it was.

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mingyu heard coming out of his own mouth. He pointed to the sign that was clearly meant to keep outsiders from coming in. Outsiders like them.

 

“It’s fine,” Soonyoung said reassuringly as he pulled on Mingyu’s wrist. “I swear it’ll be worth it.”

 

Mingyu looked down at his wrist, then to Soonyoung’s pleading expression, then to the “Keep out” sign, and then back to Soonyoung.

 

Tentatively, he opened his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly.

 

Mingyu allowed himself to be lead into the mystery that was behind the sign, Soonyoung’s eyes holding much more persuasive power than anything else around them. He felt his heart knocking away at his chest, not sure if it was from the fear of the unknown or the nerves from Soonyoung’s warm palm still snugly tugging on his wrist. They walk up the moss-covered stone stairway in the darkness, not a word exchanged between them, one step at a time until they reached an abandoned temple. Mingyu felt his mouth turn dry as Soonyoung let go of him and started to search the temple in every corner and every wall and even the bushes around it. Mingyu was having second thoughts.

 

“Should we really be doing this? What if someone comes around?”

 

Soonyoung turned around. “No one ever comes around. Anyway, you look, too. ”

 

Too? What exactly was he supposed to be looking for? His puzzled expression didn’t prompt Soonyoung to explain, so he turned around. He supposed he might understand once he found it. He let Soonyoung take the area immediately surrounding the temple while Mingyu decided to search around the trees. He didn’t let himself wander too far off, making sure he had a good view of the temple in order to not lose himself in the shrubbery. He lightly touched bark as he guided himself, the feet sinking slightly into the damp dirt. The air was musky, and searching up and down for something unknown made Mingyu bore quickly. Before long, he was dragging his feet through the soggy leaves below him, but then he found himself falling forwards, tripping over a large rock he didn’t notice.

 

He yelped, his voice carrying over far and disturbing the nightly quiet. He heard branches moving and footsteps rapidly approach him, then a rustling sound above him followed by light panting, and Soonyoung’s worried expression popping in from a low-hanging tree branch.

 

“Are you okay?” Soonyoung asked as he helped Mingyu get back on his feet, patting away the soil that nestled into the wrinkles of his shirt.

 

“Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.”

 

“Are you hurt anywhere? No scratches, no blood? Are you tired? Do you want to go home?”

 

Mingyu felt a sting in his knee. He must have scrapped it, but it was too dark to tell if the spots on his knee were red or brown.

 

“I’m okay, Soonyoung. We can keep looking for, uh, whatever it is you’re looking for.”

 

“No, if you’re not feeling okay, we can go home, I didn’t bring you here so you can suffer, I just wanted to look for a…” Soonyoung’s eyes were focusing on something past Mingyu. “A stone slab.”

 

Mingyu turned to where Soonyoung was looking, realizing that the giant rock he tripped over was the slab Soonyoung might have been looking for. But why was he looking for that?

 

Soonyoung inched closer to the slab and knelt down, running his fingers on its surface. He squinted, leaning in closer, then suddenly took out his phone from his pocket. He shone the screen light onto the slab and wiped away at the debris on it, a smile emerging on his face soon after.

“This is it!” He motioned for Mingyu to come closer. “Come look!”

 

Mingyu knelt next to Soonyoung to look at the stone, his eyebrows lifting when he noticed there was something crudely carved onto it.

 

It was writing. One single word was carved onto the surface of this slab located arbitrarily by some trees next to this abandoned temple. It was strangely intriguing.

 

Mingyu leaned in as Soonyoung held his phone closer to the writing.

 

Forever.

 

“Forever? What’s this supposed to mean?”

 

Soonyoung shut off the display on his phone and coughed once. He looked up at the sky. “Legend says that a couple that finds this slab on a full moon are destined to be together forever,” he recited.

 

Mingyu looked up as well, and behold, a full moon could be seen through the foliage, its soft light illuminating their surroundings. He looked back at Soonyoung. There was something wrong with his statement.

 

“But why did you bring me? We’re not a couple?”

 

Soonyoung coughed again, a little louder. “So, what I’m saying is…” he looked back at Mingyu, then back up at the moon, and then back at Mingyu. “What I’m saying is…”

 

Mingyu started feeling his heart beat faster in anticipation. He had a feeling he knew what was coming, but he also had doubts. There was no way… was there?

 

“Jeon Wonwoo, will you be my boyfriend?”

 

At that moment, Mingyu remembered that this memory wasn’t his own, but Wonwoo’s. He was remembering days when it was Wonwoo and Soonyoung, not Mingyu and Soonyoung. He felt more disappointed than he thought he should have, but he didn’t shut the memory out. Not until he heard Wonwoo’s answer.

 

Wonwoo nodded, trying to hide a shy smile, and Soonyoung suddenly took his hand.

 

“We should take a picture as proof,” Soonyoung suggested, his smile much too obvious that even the darkness couldn’t conceal it. He lifted his phone, camera faced-them, whispered, “Ready?”

 

Wonwoo hummed, eyes to Soonyoung instead of the camera lens where it should have been, but he couldn’t help it, for the last moment felt like a dream.

 

Mingyu couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken, but he felt like he understood Wonwoo. Somehow, the memory made him feel more connected to Wonwoo in a way he couldn’t quite explain. Before, he knew of Wonwoo’s existence, but after remembering Wonwoo’s past, he could register Wonwoo as an actual person. Someone he had a link to. They were tied together but they faced against each other, unable to see the other, but for the first time, Mingyu felt Wonwoo’s existence. Wonwoo was no longer a stranger he only knew by name.

 

But then Mingyu found himself wondering, what was he to Wonwoo?

 

~~

 

Mingyu woke slowly, his consciousness steadily coming back to him from the sunlight glaring through his lids. He inhaled deeply as he opened his eyes, but then he stopped before he could exhale when he saw something so beautiful it could only have been a dream.

 

It was Soonyoung at rest, not a foot away from him, lying peacefully facing him. His dark hair had curled on one side, defying gravity and was pointed straight upward, and his fringe partly covering his eyes. He head was lying on his hand, the backside of it connected to his cheek, which was then being pushed upward into his eye. His lips were pouted and slightly pouted, so plump that Mingyu wondered if it was filled with water. The most beautiful part of it all, though, was his peaceful expression. There was no hint of anger directed towards Mingyu or sadness caused by Wonwoo. Soonyoung looked so at ease, so serene, and Mingyu sighed at the sight, not wanting it to go away, wanting for it to remain in his memory, and his alone.

 

Carefully, tenderly, he brushed aside Soonyoung’s fringe, which felt slightly stiff, but smooth at the same time. He held onto a lock, twisting its end on his finger, then moved on to Soonyoung’s cheek. He wondered how long he could continue this for, silently hoping that Soonyoung wouldn’t wake anytime soon.

 

Mingyu tucked Soonyoung’s hair behind his ear. Soonyoung had such a pretty ear, he thought. He played with Soonyoung’s earring, as he turned his attention to Soonyoung’s eyes, swiping over it once. Soonyoung’s everything was pretty. Everything.

 

Feeling a little bold, he closed his eyes and leaned in, stopping when his lips pressed onto Soonyoung’s head. A grunt startled Mingyu, and he pulled away quickly, his heart hiding in his throat.

 

“Good morning,” Soonyoung croaked, eyes still closed. He took a deep breath in and stretched his legs.

 

Mingyu froze, suddenly afraid of what might happen next. What would Wonwoo have done in this situation? He tried to swallow his fear and calm his nerves. He had to be calm to act natural.

 

“Good morning,” he managed to reply, albeit his voice barely quivering. At least he didn’t stutter.

 

“It’s been a while,” Soonyoung said with a smile, slowly opening his eyes.

 

A while? What did that mean? Why had it been a while when Mingyu was next to Soonyoung right then and there? Hadn’t that meant that Soonyoung and Wonwoo saw each other the night before? Or perhaps their sleeping schedules differed to the point of missing each other awake. Or was it the first morning in a while that Wonwoo would have woken up next to Soonyoung? Mingyu was at a loss of what to say next.

 

Soonyoung raised his brows.

 

“Mingyu?” he asked softly. “Are you okay?”

 

Mingyu blinked. He started to wonder if he was hallucinating, or maybe he was having a lucid dream. Was Soonyoung really calling his name? Just like that?

 

“Mingyu?”

 

It wasn’t a hallucination, nor was it a dream. But why was Soonyoung so calm?

 

“How long have you been awake?”

 

Soonyoung hummed in thought. “I woke up sometime when you were playing with my hair.”

 

Mingyu felt somewhat embarrassed, nervous, but also confused.

 

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

 

“I didn’t mind it.”

 

Even if he knew it wasn’t Wonwoo?

 

“Since when did you know it was me?”

 

Soonyoung smiled, seemingly proud of himself.

 

“From the beginning. I’ve got it down now, you know. I know how to tell you apart.”

 

“But you didn’t even look at me.”

 

Soonyoung chuckled at Mingyu’s puzzlement.

 

“Want to know a secret?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You’re more gentle than he is.”

 

If there was anything to feel accomplished about, it was that Mingyu was better than Wonwoo at something, but he was more happy with the fact that Soonyoung was being more than civil with him. He was being nice. He was being accepting. He was almost being loving. Mingyu didn’t know if that was just how Soonyoung was in the morning, or if Soonyoung really was coming to terms with Mingyu, but it felt good, even with a bittersweet aftertaste that came with Mingyu remembering that Soonyoung loved Wonwoo. Mingyu might have been sharing the same body as Wonwoo, but he could never have Soonyoung come close to loving him as much, if at all.

 

~~

 

“You’re depending on Mingyu more, aren’t you?”

 

Mingyu glanced around as Seungcheol was turning the pages in his notebook. It was that cozy office again.

 

“Me?”

 

Seungcheol looked up and noticed the confusion Mingyu’s face. “Oh dear.”

 

Mingyu felt uneasy from the comment, like he had just listened in on something he wasn’t supposed to hear.

 

“Sorry for being here,” he felt the need to say. He felt like he was unwanted. It was the whole reason Wonwoo saw Seungcheol in the first place, right?

 

“No, no, no, that’s not it,” Seungcheol rapidly defended. “Wonwoo, he’s… he’s strange. He keeps telling me that he wants you to go away, but I don’t think that’s really the case. You’re coming out more because he feels like he needs you.”

 

“He needs me?”

 

Mingyu’s breath stilled from the emotion that the words carried. There was something between relief and validation that came from it, that came from knowing that someone, that Wonwoo, needed him. That despite saying otherwise, that perhaps Wonwoo really wanted him to stay, and that reason was all he needed to get rid of the foul taste that stemmed from him thinking he was being selfish in being in this world. Was it okay for him to be there? Was this how it felt to be wanted?

 

Seungcheol rubbed his chin. “Ideally, we want Wonwoo to be… only Wonwoo. But… I may be wrong, but… I don’t think Wonwoo minds you. I can’t say that’s a good thing necessarily, but…”

 

Mingyu felt off-put by the way Seungcheol said that, but he ignored the statement. “What does that mean for me?”

 

“Well it’s good for you, isn’t it? Didn’t you want to live?”

 

It was true, but there was a small worry developing somewhere in his mind that maybe what was best for Wonwoo was best for everyone, and what was best for Wonwoo was him to be alone. Maybe. But what was best for Mingyu? Was there a middle ground that they could meet? Could they meet? Wouldn’t it all be so much easier if Wonwoo and Mingyu could just sit down and talk? Since when did Mingyu have the mind to be civil with Wonwoo when he didn’t know for sure how Wonwoo felt about him? Since when did he care about how Wonwoo felt about him? Since when did he care about Wonwoo? Why did it seem like more and more questions were being buried in a graveyard that no one kept?

 

Why did the world have to be so complicated?

 

~~

 

Mingyu was leaning on a tree, the bark of it surely indenting his palm, and he got the feeling that he was hiding from something. He could hear voices nearby on the other side, one of which sounding incredibly similar to Soonyoung’s.

 

“Can I pet him?”

 

Mingyu took a peek and saw Soonyoung kneeling down to a rather large and extremely fluffy-looking Akita, the other end of its leash being held by a gentle-looking man. Mingyu could imagine the man being easily dragged away by his dog if the animal were to try, but the Akita seemed quite obedient. It sat still while Soonyoung gave it a scratch behind its ears, the Akita seemingly enjoying it thoroughly.

 

A small smile nestled itself of Mingyu’s lips from seeing Soonyoung look so happy cooing over the dog. The sight of Soonyoung was so endearing that the word cute almost came out of his mouth. Mingyu thought he could watch Soonyoung play with the dog all day, and would gladly have done so if the stranger hadn’t said his goodbyes and took the Akita away.

 

With a slight drop in Soonyoung’s expression, Mingyu suddenly had an idea.

 

“Soonyoung,” he called, stepping forward from the tree trunk he had been hiding behind.

 

“Hmm? Mingyu?” Soonyoung seemed surprised, but greeted him warmly.

 

Mingyu’s heart jumped in delight.

 

“Do you want to see more dogs?”

 

“A dog park? You’re not afraid?”

 

Mingyu smiled. What was there to be afraid of when he was with Soonyoung?

 

If there was a heaven, Mingyu wondered if it would look anything like what he was seeing right then. A field of bright grass, large clouds overhead, dogs running joyfully everywhere, and Soonyoung by his side. It probably wasn’t anywhere close, but Mingyu didn’t think he could be happier than he was here.

 

He wondered how Soonyoung felt about this moment. He wondered how Soonyoung would have liked it with Wonwoo instead. He wondered if there would ever be a time when the three of them could be at peace with themselves and each other.

 

“Would Wonwoo have come if you asked him? I mean, he’s not fond of dogs, is he?”

 

The two of them were seated on the grass under a shaded spot, both exhausted from running around with dogs that weren’t theirs. Soonyoung started tearing blades of grass and throwing them off to the side. Busy work for his hands.

 

“He doesn’t hate them. He just wouldn’t choose to be around them, no.”

 

A refreshing breeze ran through their clothes.

 

“He doesn’t like citrus in desserts either?”

 

Soonyoung paused his mini grass deforestation to look at Mingyu.

 

“No, he hates it. He calls citrus desserts an outrage. I think it’s an outrage that he thinks that, but where did that question even come from?”

 

It was strange that the more Mingyu learned about Wonwoo, the more he learned Wonwoo was different from Soonyoung, and the more he thought Mingyu was more compatible with Soonyoung. Who else would Soonyoung be able to do things like this but with Mingyu?

 

“How long have you known Wonwoo?”

 

“For a really long time. We grew up together, you know. Why the sudden interest?”

 

Mingyu shrugged. He supposed it was natural to be curious of the other him, though he refused to learn anything about Wonwoo until recently.

 

“I just feel like I should know. I mean, hasn’t Wonwoo asked about me?”

 

Soonyoung continued plucking the grass around him. “I guess so. But it’s not like there was much I could tell him. I barely knew you back then when he asked. I still barely know you, but I at least know you’re a good guy if that means anything. I don’t hate you anymore.”

 

Mingyu had known that Soonyoung didn’t like him in the beginning, but it still stung to hear Soonyoung say it.

 

“Why did you hate me so much?”

 

He expected a certain answer, that it was obvious as to why Soonyoung hated him. Because he was intruding on his and Wonwoo’s life. It seemed almost self-explanatory, so Mingyu had to think about it for a while when Soonyoung told him otherwise.

 

“Because you were a sign.”

 

“A… a sign?”

 

Soonyoung ripped a single blade of grass in half, then half again, then tossed the grass confetti upwards.

 

“A sign that Wonwoo was uneasy. That he felt like he needed to protect himself again, and that even though I’m the closest person to him, I didn’t know that he was even going through anything. That I’m that useless even though I want to be the one he reaches to for help. Even though I’m right here, right by his side, he never confided in me. Maybe he didn’t trust me enough. I know he’s a bit more independent, but…”

 

Throughout what Soonyoung said, Mingyu paid attention to one word in particular. Again. Wonwoo was going through this again. He recalled Soonyoung letting it slip before that Mingyu was the only one now, and now Mingyu was sure there were others before.

 

“How many were there besides me?”

 

Soonyoung hummed. “There were three if you include Wonwoo. He was the main personality, but there were two others a long time ago. When we were kids. It was a defense mechanism, since that kind of thing doesn’t happen without a cause.”

 

“Then why did I come out?”

 

Soonyoung frowned.

 

“You should know better than I do.”

 

But the problem was, he didn’t.

 

~~

 

Mingyu found himself looking out a window, staring blankly past the glass to the scenery outside. He wished people were so transparent that he could clearly see their intentions, but how could they be if he didn’t understand his own? He blinked his vision into focus. From where he was, he could see where the mountains and the ocean seemed to meet, despite them being much farther from each other than what his eyes told him. If he was the ocean trying to reach the mountain’s peak, he knew he couldn’t have ever made it, yet the waves beyond him repeatedly lapped onto the shore as if trying so hard to inch closer to such an impossible goal that would never put in the effort to meet halfway. And yet, the sky that was just as blue and impossibly more vast was able to reach both the ocean and the mountain with no effort.

 

If he was the ocean, then the mountain was Soonyoung. If he was the ocean, then Wonwoo was the sky.

 

He realized he was in the house again, wanting so much to find the comfort of calling it home, but he couldn’t bring himself to. As familiar as it felt, he was still unfamiliar with everything about it from the thoughtfully decorated furniture to the pictures in which he was in none of. He wondered if it was okay for him to be there.

 

He backed up into the piano that was more an obstacle than a purpose and once more sat himself down. His instinct urged him to sit, and his judgment told him to play. He positioned both hands into what seemed like a decent playing position, but when he pressed down, all that bellowed out was an out-of-tune clash of notes that didn’t come close to belonging together.

 

Did he really belong here?

 

“Mingyu?”

 

He turned at the call and saw Soonyoung half , clothed with only his pants and a towel on his shoulders, and found himself wanting to stay anyways.

 

“Oh, Soonyoung. Hey.”

 

Soonyoung approached him, or more likely the piano, before gliding his hand on the instrument’s dusty surface. “It’s been a while since I heard anything come out of this old thing.”

 

Mingyu found it strange how natural Soonyoung’s response was to Mingyu appearing before him. It was underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time.

 

“Did you play?”

 

“Well, no…”

 

Mingyu studied Soonyoung’s expression. Soonyoung was hesitating.

 

“Wonwoo. Wonwoo used to play, didn’t he?”

 

Soonyoung nodded apologetically, but Mingyu didn’t know what he was so sorry for. He decided to change the subject, taking a peek at the pictures hanging on the wall.

 

“You had two of the same pictures in your room. And they weren’t pictures of you or Wonwoo.”

 

“Pictures?”

 

“On the bookshelf.”

 

Soonyoung thought about it before chuckling slightly. “Oh, that. That was a joke.”

 

“A joke?”

 

Soonyoung went to his room for a brief moment and came back with a picture frame. He pointed out a small string of text in the bottom corner that read ‘Not to be Duplicated’ and raised his brows waiting for Mingyu to get it.

 

Mingyu let out a small oh, when he understood, more sad than amused at the irony. Wonwoo had duplicated a picture that wasn’t meant to be duplicated. As a joke. And it seemed like a sick joke that Mingyu was just a duplicate of Wonwoo, who wasn’t meant to be duplicated.

 

~~

 

Mingyu remembered something again, another memory that didn't belong to him. A more recent one than the last he remembered, but also a lot less clear. It was almost vague to the point where he wasn't sure he could tell it apart from a dream if it wasn't for the pain in his palm that came from his fingernails too tightly squeezed against it.

 

“Mingyu doesn't mean any harm. You know it. He's just like the others,” he could hear Soonyoung say, though he couldn't quite see him.

 

Just who are the others?

 

“I'm just tired of this, okay? I'm tired of not remembering what I did because he's here, and I'm tired of hearing you talk about him so… So fondly! I feel like this complete stranger is taking over my life! Is it too much to ask for me to just be alone?”

 

Was that how Wonwoo really felt? Was the fear he was feeling coming from Wonwoo, scared to say what he really thought, or from Mingyu, scared that he would disappear if Wonwoo really wanted him gone?

 

He was encased by something warm and snug. Soonyoung was holding him tightly.

 

“Please just lean on me a little, hmm? I'm here for you, but I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong. Please, please, Wonwoo. I’m here for you. If you would be happier with Mingyu gone, then I understand, but if you want him here, that's fine, too. Just tell me. I need to know.”

 

Would Soonyoung be okay with Mingyu gone? Just like that?

 

Mingyu felt himself open his mouth to speak, but none of the words he or Wonwoo wanted to say came out. Only a small cry made itself to the surface before Mingyu found Wonwoo sobbing uncontrollably.

 

“I want you to want me,” Mingyu said, still crying. He blinked, not sure why he was so sad, but he couldn't stop his tears.

 

“Mingyu?”

 

Soonyoung was still holding him, and that was when Mingyu realized that the memory he recalled wasn't one at all, but rather Mingyu being conscious when Wonwoo was, too. He tried to pull away, suddenly aware that he might have just confessed his feelings to Soonyoung, but his arms were weak from him crying. Soonyoung held on more tightly, too.

 

“Mingyu, wait, I… I’m sorry. I'm sorry I can't do any more for you than what I can do for Wonwoo. I'm sorry I'm just no good. I'm so useless, I don’t understand what either of you see in me.”

 

Mingyu pushed Soonyoung away gently and held his face. Wonwoo hadn't been the only one crying, he noted, as Soonyoung's bottom lip was still quivering and his eyes were still puffed and red. Soonyoung had been suffering all this time, but why hadn't it hit him until now? Did Wonwoo know?

 

Mingyu wiped away a stray tear with his thumb as it rolled down Soonyoung's cheek, and with all the courage he could gather, he leaned in, even knowing that Soonyoung was clearly aware of who he was at that moment. When Soonyoung didn't resist, he deepened the kiss.

 

~~

 

They fell asleep on the bed with their fingers interlocked, and when Mingyu awoke to their hands still connected, he knew that it was the following morning and not several mornings after. It was the first time he stayed for so long, and Mingyu was conflicted as to whether he should have been as relieved as he was or not.

 

He saw Soonyoung staring at him, and his heart jumped when he realized that it meant that Soonyoung hadn’t let go.

 

“Wonwoo has a brother, you know,” Soonyoung started suddenly.

 

Hmm?

 

“Yeah?”

 

“His name is Bohyuk. Wonwoo and Bohyuk, they were really close when they were young. I guess they had to be, since they weren’t treated very well when they were kids. I’m not sure why, but one day their parents started investing in piano lessons for them, something about how it’ll pay off in the future, and you know what? Bohyuk ended up being a real talent. You could call him a prodigy. And so their parents made Bohyuk do nothing but practice and they started ignoring Wonwoo. They gave up on him. And that’s when Wonwoo and Bohyuk started getting farther apart.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?”

 

“You want to help Wonwoo, right? It would be easier if you knew this much about him. Besides, this is more than just about Wonwoo. It’s about the other personalities.”

 

Mingyu swallowed. “You mean, the other two.”

 

“Yeah, the other two. Seokmin and Minghao. They came out sometime after Bohyuk started competing in major competitions and Wonwoo was left at home. See, Seokmin, he would sneak out of the house and that’s how we met. He was a really fun one, too, I swear he was always laughing about something even if there was nothing funny to laugh about.”

 

Soonyoung smiled sadly. “He never cried either, no matter what. He was the happiest kid you could ever meet, and I always went home a little happier after meeting him. I found out later that there was no Seokmin in the Jeon household.”

 

“So you knew Seokmin before you knew Wonwoo?”

 

“Mhmm. But then I started visiting Seokmin’s home, but Seokmin wasn’t there. It was always Wonwoo or Minghao. The reason I only saw Seokmin outside was because him being outside meant that Wonwoo snuck out, and Wonwoo sneaking out meant that he was in a really bad place. And then Seokmin would just brush all the pain aside when I didn’t even know he was sad.”

 

Mingyu could detect guilt in Soonyoung’s voice, and he couldn’t tell if he felt guilty for Seokmin or for Wonwoo. Perhaps both.

 

“And what about Minghao?”

 

“Minghao was… he was a really straightforward kid. He seemed a lot more mature than either me or Wonwoo, but he was also the kind of person who said everything that was on his mind. Wonwoo’s the kind of person who bottles everything inside, but Minghao was just the opposite. Minghao told me when he thought I was being annoying, but he also told me when he wanted me to hold his hand. I liked knowing how he was feeling without having to pry. It made me feel like I was trusted.”

 

“So… you liked them. Seokmin and Minghao.”

 

Soonyoung nodded. “I did. I was young and naive and didn’t know that they were a sign that Wonwoo needed help.”

 

“Why did they disappear?”

 

Soonyoung furrowed his brows and tightened his grip of Mingyu. “It was when Bohyuk had his accident. I don't know the details, but something happened at one of the venues he was competing in, and he got hurt. He was rushed to the hospital, but his shoulders and right hand were injured too much. He went through intensive surgery but in the end, he was told he wouldn’t be able to play the piano again. At least, not at the level he used to play. Anytime I saw Wonwoo after that, he would keep apologizing for no reason, and ever since then, Seokmin and Minghao stopped coming out.”

 

“What about me? How am I different from Wonwoo? What does he need from me?”

 

“Well, if I had to point something out, you’re a little more assertive than he is. But there’s nothing that’s opposite from him, but you’re just a different person. You’re somehow different from the other personalities. It’s weird that you and Wonwoo don’t remember what happens when the other is out. It was different from Seokmin and Minghao. It’s almost like you’re just another person. You’re just Mingyu.”

 

Was that a good thing? Was it a bad thing? Mingyu was afraid to ask.

 

~~

 

Mingyu woke up again the next morning after going to sleep the night before, and again the morning after and the morning after. He could remember his days in full and in sequence, and he became convinced that for some reason, Wonwoo wasn’t coming out at all. Mingyu noticed Soonyoung’s expression growing darker as the days passed, knowing that he noticed and might have had the same fear that Mingyu did. That maybe Wonwoo didn’t want to come out.

 

As much as Mingyu had told himself that he wanted to live, when he finally had the chance, he was uneasy. Why was Wonwoo giving him the controls when the game was never paused and Mingyu had no idea which buttons meant what?

 

“You have to live as Wonwoo,” Soonyoung decided on the fifth day. And from then, Soonyoung decided to guide Mingyu until Wonwoo came back.

 

Mingyu learned that Wonwoo worked part-time in an office for a life insurance company, that Wonwoo never talked to his parents but his brother would occasionally give him a call, that he was a regular at the cafe a few blocks from the house, that he paid the bills on every 10th of the month, that he did groceries with Soonyoung every Saturday, and that he had a real life that Mingyu didn’t imagine he had.

 

He learned that Mingyu had only been living the easy parts of it all. He learned that Wonwoo carried all the responsibility for the both of them, and it never hit Mingyu until then that life was more than just Soonyoung. With life full-time being shoved at him, he felt like he needed a way out.

 

They decided to ask Seungcheol for help.

 

“I can bring him out,” Seungcheol explained after he heard their request. “But I can’t make him stay.”

 

Soonyoung and Mingyu looked at each other, neither saying anything but both understanding the other. All they needed was an explanation that only Wonwoo could provide.

 

“Please,” Mingyu said as Soonyoung nodded in agreement.

 

When Mingyu awoke, it was to Seungcheol with his hands folded and expression stumped, and to Soonyoung holding his hand and head down. He wasn’t conscious when Wonwoo was out, but he was aware of what Wonwoo was feeling, and without any sort of explanation from the two in front of him, he knew that Wonwoo wouldn’t come out for a while.

 

If Mingyu could put it to words what Wonwoo felt, he would have told Soonyoung, but he couldn’t describe it more than empty sadness. It was loneliness even though he knew Soonyoung would keep him company, and it was feeling useless even if he was living fine. It was knowing that he was fine, that he could barely hold out his hand and someone would be there to grab it, but the back of his mind doubting it all. Wonwoo no longer had the confidence to live, and he decided that Mingyu would be a better fit to being Wonwoo.

 

~~

 

It had been about a month since Mingyu took over Wonwoo’s life, and sometime in between, Mingyu found that he could say for certain where his home was, and that was by Soonyoung, who both taught and comforted him to stability. He had grown accustomed to responding to Wonwoo, but there was such a soothing ring when Soonyoung called Mingyu’s name. As much as he thought he would be stuck in a maze of Wonwoo, it was because of Soonyoung that he was able to hold his ground and not lose himself in the confusion. As long as Soonyoung was there, Mingyu could keep up this appearance, even when Wonwoo’s memories would shake him.

 

“I’m remembering more Wonwoo’s past,” said Mingyu when he recalled sitting on a piano bench doing scales. A strict teacher behind him reprimanded him when his tempo became unstable. “Is that…”

 

“A side effect of becoming the main personality. You’ll probably remember more.”

 

It was a burdening thought.

 

Wonwoo’s phone rang and Mingyu picked up, hearing a deep voice on the other end. He instinctively knew it to be Bohyuk’s and answered like he thought a sibling would. Cheerful with some banter, though Wonwoo probably listened more than he spoke. Mingyu tried to do the same.

 

“I miss you,” Bohyuk said suddenly, in the middle of asking if he was eating well.

 

“Ah, yeah, I miss you too.”

 

There was silence on the line and Mingyu wondered if he said something wrong.

 

“Bohyuk?”

 

“Sorry, it’s nothing, I just… I thought I’d never hear you say that.”

 

He did say something wrong. But it was too late to take it back.

“Bohyuk-”

 

“Hyung! One of my students is here, I have to go. It was nice talking to you, I really do miss you. I’m hanging up, bye!”

 

The line clicked before droning, and Mingyu found himself dragging his feet to the couch to flop his head onto Soonyoung’s lap.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Wonwoo’s weird.”

 

Mingyu peeked up to see a small smile on Soonyoung’s face.

 

“A little bit, yeah.”

 

“But you love him anyway.”

 

“Yeah. Don’t you?”

 

Mingyu shrugged. “I guess.”

 

The sound of the TV drowned out and as Mingyu’s consciousness left him, the sound of a piano melody echoed in his ears.

 

“Hyung, you’re too fast!”

 

Mingyu was running, loud clicks as his heel hit hard against the floor, the soles of his feet hurting from running in shoes meant for formalities. He swung his head to see Bohyuk, about twelve years old, chasing him with a mischievous open-mouthed grin, panting just as hard as he was. Mingyu heaved out a proud laughter, as the distance between them wouldn’t narrow no matter how much energy Bohyuk exerted. They dashed through the empty halls, Mingyu twirling on his toes as he turned every corner and watching as Bohyuk struggled to keep up.

 

“Hyung,” Bohyuk whined with gasping breaths.

 

Mingyu decided to turn one last corner before jumping at Bohyuk to give him a scare, thinking to himself that it was probably time for his brother to tidy himself up for his performance. Mingyu didn’t want his brother to lose points for looking unprofessional, after all.

 

It turned out that he didn’t need to worry about that, Bohyuk ending up in the operation room instead of the performance hall from a beam somehow collapsing onto him. Mingyu hadn’t seen what happened exactly, but when he heard metal crash into metal and no longer heard footsteps behind him, his heart stopped and his legs ran to the source of the noise, his face dropping in horror when he saw his little brother’s body under a beam. He screamed at the beam when he couldn’t move it by himself didn’t say a word to anyone else as he was transported to the hospital, hands over his ears like he could convince himself it wasn’t real if he couldn’t hear the sirens.

 

Hours felt like a passing moment when he heard the doctor tell his parents, “I’m afraid he might not be able to play the piano ever again.”

 

Mingyu woke up right where he dozed off, safe at home, safe with Soonyoung, his dreams only hurting when he realized they were memories.

 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Soonyoung asked, hand comfortingly Mingyu’s hair.

 

“Kind of.” Mingyu sat up. “Do you know where Bohyuk lives?”

 

“Yeah, I have his address somewhere. Why? Did you want to meet him?”

 

“I want him to teach me how to play the piano.”

 

~~

 

Two years was simultaneously a long time and no time at all, and it was two years was what it took for Bohyuk to decide it was time for Wonwoo to have his first piano recital. Three years was what it took for Mingyu to decide to do it. It was a small and private recital with only two audience members that were seated, but Mingyu hoped that there was a third.

 

Mingyu drew a breath before bowing to his audience, a humble round of clapping filling the small room as he straightened himself to look at Bohyuk, his friend and teacher, and Soonyoung, his home. It took a long time for him to get here, he thought.

 

When Mingyu first made his request in person, Bohyuk jumped on the idea quickly, tuning the old piano at Soonyoung’s house and giving a first lesson on the spot. Bohyuk was impressed with how quickly Mingyu learned, and Mingyu wondered if it was from determination and constant practice, or if maybe he just picked it up easier than Wonwoo did. Lessons seemed long at first, but the more he practiced, the shorter they seemed, and he wondered if Wonwoo got a good listen to his skills.

 

Why? He thought he heard someone ask him, and while it wasn’t Soonyoung, it didn’t mean it was Wonwoo either. Why, indeed? Maybe it had something to do with having a better idea of how Bohyuk’s accident happened. Maybe he thought it was a shame that Bohyuk couldn’t continue a career in music, or maybe he felt guilty for it. Wonwoo had been the one to run through an area being repaired, but Mingyu had to take responsibility for Wonwoo now, hadn’t he? Maybe it was because he was upset with himself that no matter how matter times he sat himself in front of the instrument, he couldn’t make music come out.

 

No matter the reason, it made Bohyuk happy to spend time with his brother.

 

Standing in front of Bohyuk and Soonyoung made it seem like these two were the ones who shaped his life, but for only being in the world for so long, it wasn’t a lie to say that they were. He was nervous, his cummerbund snug around his waist and his bow restricting his neck, but they held him in place so he had nowhere to run.

 

He closed his eyes, letting his hands rest lightly on the keys, recalling the tempo he had practiced for weeks, and let muscle memory take over. The less he thought about it, the more his fingers took over, effortlessly pressing white black white in the order he ran through over and over, the keys finally sounding like music, when he pressed them, finally sounding like they belong. All the had to do was put in effort to make harmonies.

 

Fifteen minutes passed by quickly, and soon he found himself bowing once again as if he went back in time. He didn’t notice he was sweating until a drop fell onto the floor, and he stood straight he noticed he wasn’t the only one who went through a change in during his performance.

 

He saw Bohyuk in tears and he saw Soonyoung with flowers, both wearing proud smiled on their faces, and Mingyu thought that Wonwoo would be proud of him, too.

 

He skipped formalities and jumped off the stage to run to Soonyoung’s arms, caring less that he would have to clean up the shaken petals from the floor later. He felt like he accomplished something. All the feelings jumbled in his chest, all in all, amounted to him just being happy.

 

He was happy to be here.

 

He blinked away a tear. He blinked. He blinked and all of a sudden he found himself crouched on the floor huddling Soonyoung, Soonyoung crying along with him and muttering something that sounded somewhat close to words. When he heard a sliver of a name that he had missed he realized what had happened, and he found himself shaking in relief. He clasped Soonyoung’s hand and squeezed his eyes shut, laughing as he cried when Bohyuk asked them why they were acting so strangely.

 

If only Bohyuk had known, he would have been saying the words Mingyu had in his head. If only Bohyuk had known, he would have cried with them. But he didn’t know, and it was between Mingyu and Soonyoung who whispered to each other hoping that a certain person heard the words they kept repeating.

 

We missed you, Wonwoo. Welcome back.

 

~~

 

If they had told anyone of their circumstances, that there were three people living in one household when only two bodies occupied it, they would probably be told that they needed help. But after being two, then three, then two, then three, the ups and downs and the spirals, they ended up finding happiness with the three of them. Wonwoo could no longer live independently from Mingyu, and Mingyu liked Wonwoo coming out time to time. Soonyoung enjoyed both their company, but of course, it was just a hint more intimate when Wonwoo came out since his time was shorter than Mingyu’s. They learned to love each other, they learned to need each other, and they learned that they could make it work.

 

Their lives weren’t perfect, but was anyone’s?

 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ahhhhhh why did this take so long to write only to end up like this, I'm sorry this wasn't anything much, but if you made it all the way to the end, congratulations!! You read a lot of words!! Ahaha...

Hope you guys have a great day and maybe love Soonwoogyu, thank you for reading anyway~

 

PS I might stop using aff and just switch entirely to ao3 because aff gives me so many formatting troubles and technical difficulties and stuff, just to let you know~