2 :  s c r e e n  t i m e

The sky had fallen, and all the sounds of daytime had dissolved into a quiet whisper of the night. Donghae sat at his desk, fresh from a shower. He leaned back in his computer chair, inspecting the small white card pinched between his fingers. He hadn’t paid much attention to it since Hyukjae had handed it to him earlier that day, but now that he was alone in his room, with nothing else to do as he waited for his best friend to video call him, curiosity swept over him like a wave crashing against the shore. He held the card against the light. It mainly read:

LEE HYUKJAE

CEO OF MONTEVIEW STAY RESORT, SEOGWIPO

Donghae snickered. CEO, huh. He placed the namecard on his desk just in time to react to the familiar ring of a video call blaring from his MacBook. He scrambled for his mouse as the screen of his MacBook blinked in sync with the rhythm of the ringing. Donghae manoeuvred his mouse on the pad until his cursor aligned with the ANSWER button on screen and clicked. The ringing stopped, prompting a window to open. His best friend appeared on the screen, smiling benevolently.

“Hello, you freak of nature!”

“Hey, Kyuhyun,” Donghae greeted in return, rolling his eyes at his friend’s verbal jab.

Kyuhyun shuffled in his seat, before reaching for something off-screen. He withdrew his hand a split second later, glasses entwined in his fingers. Putting it on, he took a deep breath and sighed, staring straight into his webcam. He’d known Donghae since they were children, and could tell when his best friend had his mind in a tussle from a mile away.

“Why’d you summon me today, Mr Grumps?”

Donghae slumped his shoulders, reaching for the namecard that he had previously left on the desk. He raised it in front of the webcam for his best friend to see.

“This,” Donghae lamented, “is why.”

Kyuhyun adjusted his glasses and squinted, reading the words off the card. Then, he groaned. Donghae didn’t like the sound of that groan one bit.

“Really, Donghae? Another man problem?”

“Yes, you .”

Kyuhyun remained indifferent, and Donghae couldn’t help but to feel dispirited. Each time he happened to bring up a man, his best friend would assume the worst. He understood Kyuhyun’s disdain to a certain agree, considering that in the length of their friendship he’d have bothered Kyuhyun with his relationship problems at least a couple dozen times by now, but he wished his friend would at least try to show a little bit of interest. The disappointment had somehow made its way to his face, and Kyuhyun noticed. He began to type. Donghae watched as his friend’s eyes swept the screen, his face unfeeling. Then, his eyes widened.

“Wow, Donghae,” he uttered suddenly, running his free thumb over his lips as he continued to scour the screen. “I don’t know who this Lee Hyukjae guy is, but one thing’s for sure; he’s rich!”

Kyuhyun began to move his mouse, clicking on a dialogue box that prompted the screen to split in half. On one half, Kyuhyun was still visible, but on the other, Donghae could see what activity Kyuhyun was engaged in as they video called, and more importantly, he could see the article that his best friend had been scrolling through. The article was posted on some sort of business forum, presuming from the name of the website. The title of the article read, “Ten of South Korea’s Richest Young Entrepeneurs”. Kyuhyun scrolled to the bottom of the screen in search of the man Donghae was concerned about.

“Stop,” Donghae commanded.

Kyuhyun did as told. There on the screen, ranked at number two, was Lee Hyukjae, the same man Donghae had met near Jeongbang Waterfalls, except in the photo placed under his rank and name, Hyukjae looked much younger, and had jetblack hair instead of the bright auburn-coloured hair he’d had when they met face to face. Kyuhyun began to read out loud:

“Number Two: Lee Hyukjae, CEO of Monteview Stay Resort and Yeppeun Yeoja Cosmetics. Net Worth: 5.7 billion USD.”

“What the ?”

“Yeah, what the indeed.” Kyuhyun adjusted his glasses once more, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them. “Alright, Donghae. Spill the ing beans. What’s your deal with this guy?”

Donghae, still in shock from the revelation, shook his head to refocus his attention.

“Uh, well..” He his dry lips before continuing. “I was having a meltdown earlier today, so I did the usual. I went to the waterfall with my sketchbook and started to draw. Out of nowhere, this bloke approaches me and introduces himself.”

“No way.”

“Yes way, and as if that wasn’t weird enough, he made me draw him. He had to leave halfway with some woman though, and that’s when he gave me his namecard. He told me to call him.”

Kyuhyun sunk in his seat, his face pensive. Donghae had no idea what was going through his best friend’s mind so he, as he always did, decided to wait patiently for Kyuhyun to come up with some sort of hypothesis, like he always did. While waiting, he found himself glossing over the namecard again and again, this time with the newly found details they’d acquired of the mysterious man, Lee Hyukjae, in mind. Now knowing that the auburn-haired man was not only rich but also extremely successful, it perplexed Donghae even more. Neither Donghae nor Kyuhyun could fathom why a man of such high stature would throw a namecard in the direction of some random person and instruct him to call him, let alone for it to be Donghae of all people.

“Call him.”

“What?”

“Call him,” Kyuhyun repeated nonchalantly, wiping his glasses with his shirt, before putting it back on.

Donghae was confused.

“Weren’t you just about to berate me for sharing my stupid man problem with you? What’s with the one-eighty, Kyu?”

Kyuhyun had taken over the entire screen again, and in response to Donghae’s mini interrogation, he smirked.

“Because, Donghae,” he began, “the dude is rich. You could milk him for all he’s worth. Just imagine the endless possibilities you could sunbathe in with a man THAT rich. It’s insane. And in case I haven’t said it enough, I’ll say it again: the man is filthy rich and he obviously has a hard-on for you. Why else would he ask you, a complete stranger, to call him?”

The man had a point. As ridiculous as he’d sounded, Kyuhyun was right. Why would a man like Lee Hyukjae give Donghae his namecard and expect him to call, if not for the fact that he was attracted to him? Donghae was nearly sold to the idea, except for the fact that he didn’t want to end up being some sort of gold digger. It was a shallow, superficial idea and it completely went against his morals. He sighed. He knew better than to debate the idea with his bespectacled buddy, though. Kyuhyun hated losing.

“I guess I’ll think about it, Kyu,” he lied, running his fingers through his still wet hair. “Anyway, let’s change the topic. I’m turning twenty-seven in three days and you STILL haven’t told me whether you’ll be swinging by.”

Kyuhyun shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with the webcam of his desktop monitor.

“About that…” Kyuhyun’s voice, previously sounding ever so confident, now reeked of self-consciousness, trailing off.

Donghae watched his best friend shift in his seat once more through the screen, doing everything to make the awkwardness that had thickened in the air between them dissipate except to explain himself. Donghae’s impatience grew with each second that ticked by. He leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrows as if to prompt Kyuhyun to say something. Anything.

“…I can’t come, Donghae. I’m really sorry. I’m visiting Irene’s parents in Gangnam.”

Donghae remained indifferent to his best friend’s excuse. It wasn’t the first time he’d been ditched on his birthday anyway.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot that you, my best friend, are a heteroual male with an actual girlfriend that you, quite possibly, could someday legally marry.” Donghae quipped, working hard at controlling his facial expression so as not to give his disappointment away.

Kyuhyun sensed his sarcasm instantly. He was well aware that sarcasm was Donghae’s self-defence mechanism against anything that could render him vulnerable. He’d known the bloke for nearly half his life, and even if a huge chunk of his memory had been ripped apart from him in a terrible accident, he was still more or less the same Donghae he’d known since he was fourteen.

“I’m sorwy, Donghae,” he teased, speaking in pout. “I’ll make it up to you, I pwomise.”

“ off.”

“I wuv you too, Mr Grumps.”

Just then, Kyuhyun’s attention shifted to something off-screen. He squinted his eyes towards something on the left of his desktop monitor and bit his lip.

“Donghae, I’m gonna have to hang up,” he mumbled, picking his phone up. “Boyfriend duties.”

Donghae rolled his eyes. “Alright. Bye Kyuhyun.”

“Goodb—“

Before Kyuhyun could properly bid his farewell, Donghae cut the call. He turned his MacBook off, folded it and got off his computer chair, aiming for the bed. Donghae dove under the covers, his body slowly giving way, until… , what am I gonna do on my birthday? I’m not gonna wallow in self-pity all day again, am I? Jesus. He closed his eyes, thinking of a plan. He couldn’t think of a single person to spend the day with, except—