Yoochun
[3/5]

Untitled thougths part. 1

- when you say nothing but all -

Yoochun moves his fingers on the keyboard, slowly, going from white keys to darker ones with confident and harmonic moves, following the imaginary scheme he reads on the penthagram in the scores in front of him. Those same scores that always leave him with a bitter aftertaste he doesn’t manage to let go of.
He closes his eyes while the melody becomes more vivace, more intense, and hands start moving faster, getting used to the new rhythm; old concerns go away, disappearing in a cloud of smoke, while a sweet serenity fights its way into the room, driving away the heaviness that was previously floating in the air.

He realises it and relaxes a little bit, listening to his emotions be turned into music.
He talks a lot, Yoochun, and he doesn’t as well, but just a few have managed to comprehend the real meaning of his strange silences; just a few have managed to notice when his eyes were begging for help, but his lips were shut, when a laugh was hiding a cry and words were never enough to express the wholeness of what he was carring inside.
Singing allowed him to pour out his feelings, to let go, but it was nothing more than a short break, the calm before the storm, and now, overpowered by the storms of his life, he is facing a reality too real, too close to himself, now unharmed.

Singing hurts, now.
Laughting burns his throat, crying chokes his eyes and breathing asphyxiates him.
He thought athsma was horrible: the air fighting to enter his lungs, unsuccessfully, while he yearned for his life. But this, this, was even worse: the air managed to enter and there it stayed, stagnating, before going out and coming back in even dirtier.

Yoochun would like to fight, to find a way to survive, but Jaejoong keeps on saying that there’s no meaning in surviving if you don’t manage to live afterward, and he doesn’t know who to believe anymore, who to rely on, who to love.
He looks around himself and he sees his mates falling with him: he would like to help them, but his boat is probably the one that’s embarking most water and how could he save others when he’s the first one that’s drowing?

The rhythm slows down and his movements with it, until it stops in the wink of an eye.
He gets up, closing the keyboard and laying on the bed. Nightime has come a while ago, but that evening the sugary taste of music almost hid old scars, like during spring when cherry petals cover the streets of the capital, bringing a hint of light in the still frozen weather.
The dream, however, goes away: midnight rings and the spell breaks, bringing back to life old phantoms and torturing him again with that past that he doesn't let go of and deep inside he knows it isn’t even what he wants.
Deep inside he knows he just wants to take the remoter of his life and go back in time.
Deep inside he knows, Yoochun, that he will never be able to forget.