"i'm sorry sir, we're unable to recover the number.  however, there are a lot of other options these days..."

there's some kind of bouncy music playing in the background as the salesperson gestures at the fancy looking phones through the display case, not registering that minseok's face has fallen.  chanyeol is standing by silently, but when minseok doesn't reply to the salesperson's question, chanyeol steps in. 

"sorry could you give us a minute?"

the employee bows and leaves, after glancing curiously at the man who seems to be in shock. 

"minseok-ssi" chanyeol says gently, cupping minseok's shoulders from behind.  "i know the phone is important to you, but-"

"what do you know?!" minseok bursts out suddenly, pushing the taller man away roughly.

it's not chanyeol's fault and minseok knows he shouldn't be getting mad at chanyeol.  but in his despair, the warmth on minseok's back and chanyeol's kind voice are too much.  this is minseok's own fault.  and everything seems to fall apart in his hands - the phone, the mission, this friendship.  the anger is misplaced and minseok knows that but -

"..." chanyeol hangs his head, but still reaches for minseok's hands.

"you don't know anything" minseok seethes, but with less intensity than before.

"... you're right.  i don't.  but ... i know that it was important enough for you to risk your life for."

chanyeol's huge eyes meet minseok's.  chanyeol's still on crutches and they clatter to the floor as chanyeol grips minseok's hands tightly.

"i don't know much now" chanyeol continues.  "but maybe i can help and maybe i'll get to know more in the future."

"..."

minseok bites his lip.  he doesn't want to cry in the store.

"will you let me?" chanyeol asks, gently.  "will you let me help?"

the new phone is heftier than his old one.  it sits like a hunk of cold steel in his hand and minseok thinks, at least it'll be harder to break.

his old number is lost and he has a new number now.  they'd stopped using the old seoul area codes more than a decade ago.  still, it kills minseok to know that, even now, jongin's messages are getting sent to his old number.  that those messages will be lost in cyberspace, that minseok'll never be able to read them. 

at first it's rough.  because of his hospital time, he had been let go from his part-time job.  so, minseok is left to sit alone in his room, thinking of the ways jongin is out of reach.  but now, each time minseok's about to fall into a bad bad place, the door bell rings. 

his room is dark and gray, but it seems when minseok answers the door, it's like a warm shower of sunlight.  the light is park chanyeol, who is there with a huge smile and about a dozen things to chatter about, keeping minseok's mind off of the dark dark thoughts allegding to solve minseok's longing and grief. 

it's not a one way street.  not really.  because minseok really tries.  at first, minseok feels guilty and obligated.  this man had risked his life for minseok's and minseok's own leg injury makes him privvy to the pain that chanyeol's going through.  but a few months pass and chanyeol's off his crutches.  another month passes and, because of minseok's laziness and chanyeol's eagerness, the door bell doesn't ring anymore.  instead, there's the beep beep beep beep of the door lock code being entered and just like that chanyeol has free access. 

unlike chanyeol's progress, minseok isn't really able to ignore the all-consuming black hole in his heart, but each time minseok's in danger of wallowing in the familiar pain, it seems that chanyeol is always there.  slowly, the gratefulness minseok feels forms into something deeper.

"supposedly, these new phones are able to send messages into space a fraction more faster than the older models" chanyeol had said coming out of the store.  

minseok still remembers that day, a year ago now.  he'd been reluctant to replace his old phone number at first, but when it became inevitable, minseok was just eager to let jongin know.  to apologize for his own mistake of breaking his one communication line to jongin.

chanyeol's talking the whole time, trying to console minseok and making excuses like, "there are a whole bunch of new features!" but minseok's busy trying to text.  he sends jongin his new number right away.  it's the first thing minseok does, before he even leaves the store.

[i'm sorry i missed all your other messages] minseok types as fast as he can.  [i'm really, really sorry.]

he only hesitates for a fraction of a second before hitting send because he contemplates adding another sentence.  in the end, he decides against it.  they've never used the words in writing before.

even now, a year later, it's minseok's daily habit to check his phone.  he still sees his own message in his 'sent' folder.  even though minseok's known chanyeol for a year now, park chanyeol doesn't ever send minseok texts.  it's always a phone call or voicemail, like a tacit agreement.  so minseok's inbox sits empty, even though the zero notification in the corner of his text message icon chips at minseok's heart every single day.

a few weeks after minseok had been discharged from the hospital, minseok had introduced chanyeol to junmyeon.  junmyeon was going away on his final mission.  it gave minseok an undeniable feeling of jealousy because one, junmyeon was going to be closer to kim jongin.  and two, after his final mission...

"i'm getting married" junmyeon had answered when chanyeol asked what was next.

junmyeon's eyes look bright with pride and happiness.

"congratulations!" chanyeol had said ataken back.

"thank you.  that's why i'm retiring.  i don't want to spend time away from my wife-to-be and i don't want to stay stagnant while my wife and kids grow older than me.  we're going to grow old together."

there's something about the shy, but assured way junmyeon says those last sentences that has minseok looking away.  it's not quite jealously.  it's not quite longing.  and it's not nostalgia because minseok's never had that before.  but it's something that wrenches at minseok's gut and something that gives minseok a difficult time swallowing.  so minseok looks away and when he does, he feels chanyeol's large hand wrap around his smaller one.  minseok looks up at the touch and he sees chanyeol's a steady pool in his large brown eyes.  they're deep and seem to be trying to convey something. 

worry?  
hope?  
assurance? 

minseok's not sure, but it calms the storm inside of him and minseok can finally look back at junmyeon with an honest face again.

later, as junmyeon had left, he had taken minseok aside.

"really, the only thing i worry about is you" junmyeon had sighed.  "i barely even worry about my fiance or my parents.  but you... you're a different story."

minseok had laughed as mirthfully as he could, giving junmyeon a light punch.  "don't joke."

"i'm not joking" junmyeon had returned, gripping minseok's shoulders.  "that... park chanyeol seems to be very kind."

minseok had nodded unable to meet junmyeon's eye.

"i just... i don't want anyone to get hurt.  do you know what i mean, minseok-ah?" junmyeon sighs.  "this might be harsh, but i'm saying it because you're my best friend."  here, junmyeon had paused and had continued in a whisper, "... don't mistake park chanyeol for kim jongin."

junmyeon had sounded chagrined and minseok had known it was coming.  at least, he'd had an inkling because junmyeon was right.  junmyeon was his closest friend and minseok had never opened up to anyone like he had with jongin.  but now... in this time of loneliness, chanyeol was becoming easier and easier to lean on, so much so that it was scaring minseok as well.

"i just don't want there to be any hurt" junmyeon had continued.  

"i'll be alright" minseok had told him, but junmyeon had shook his head.

"not just you."  junmyeon's hands drop from minseok's shoulders as minseok meets junmyeon in the eye.  "i'm talking about everyone.  even chanyeol-ssi."

+++

[hyung,
we're going to do another jump into deep space.
this time, it'll take even longer for my messages to reach you.
i'm sorry.
i hope you're doing well.]

jongin doesn't mention the fact that it's been weeks since minseok's last message.  he doesn't want to worry.  jongin knows once the worry starts, there'll be no stopping it and also no way to save himself from it.  after all, news takes years to get to him.  so jongin pretends like everything is the same.  he pretends like he's just sorry about his messages getting delayed and he doesn't show the utterly all-consuming sorrow at getting further and further from earth - further and further from minseok.

space, jongin finds, is an odd place.  he'd become so desensitized during training.  day in and day out, training had been about living and breathing life in space.  then, once he'd gone up, jongin had found space was a terribly frightening place.  and now, as jongin floats in the infinite darkness, he thinks maybe it's become a little comforting.  jongin closes his eyes and his breaths become shallow.  he doesn't quite sleep, but his eyelids close and his limbs go limp.

in this expanse of deep space, jongin reminisces about his youth.  about their youth.  it's not hard to recall because that's all jongin has these days.  little threads of comfort that he can follow with his memories until he feels safer and warmer than he does trapped in a space ship in the coldness of space.

minseok had always been one step ahead of jongin, impossible to catch up with, even in their youth.  not only was minseok four years older, jongin had never been a student in the same school as him.  every time jongin moved up to a new school, he'd hear about how wonderful of a student kim minseok had been.  jongin had never attended the same school as minseok, but he was always reminded of how minseok was always a little out of jongin's reach.  even now, jongin thinks, maybe the reason for minseok's radio silence was because minseok had moved on.  it makes jongin tremble unconsciously - it's fear and unfathomable sadness all at once.  but it makes sense.  the world didn't stop and minseok's life shouldn't stop just because jongin was in space. it's been months now and that means it's been years back on earth.

was minseok hyung ok?

was minseok hyung busy?

had minseok forgotten about kim jongin?

or...

he closes his mind to the last question.  opening his eyes, he pulls out his phone.

[hyung,] he types.  [i love you.]

jongin knows it's selfish, which is why he's never texted it before and why he's never expected it from minseok.  but right now, in the months of radio silence, those are the only words that express just how much jongin misses him.

[i miss you] he tries a few hours later. [i love you.]

before he presses send, he erases the last sentence and instead writes, [i'm sorry.  i'm sorry.  i'm sorry.]