3 :  p h o t o g r a p h

Donghae watched the surface of the ocean's water glisten in the sun in front of him, putting on a pair of shades. It was half past noon and an exceptionally hot day, which made Donghae extra grateful for the fact that he'd decided to leave the house dressed in a loose Hawaiian shirt, khaki-coloured bermuda shorts and sandals. Seeking refuge in the shade of a huge beach umbrella, he looked on as beachgoers basked in the sun; some of them went no further than where the sea and sand met, whereas others swam as far out as they could manage in a bid to cool off. As tempting as it was to strip down to his shorts and go for a swim, he had to wait— he'd been waiting for nearly half an hour but the man was nowhere to be seen. For some reason, however, his heart palpitated really quick. What am I so nervous for?

"I thought you'd never call."

Hyukjae appeared from behind him at that very moment, shooting a grin in Donghae's direction. Donghae grinned back, and left his eyes to size up the auburn-haired man; he had dressed down for the occasion: his hair was still swept up in a faux mohawk, and he wore a loose white muscle tank that revealed his pale arms, and navy blue shorts. Donghae was only just noticing how thin the man was; he wasn't able to tell the first time they'd met since Hyukjae had dressed in a thick jumper then. Hyukjae sat on the beach chair next to Donghae's, leaving his slippers on the sand and propping his feet up, crossing at the ankles. He turned to face Donghae, grinning once more.

"What took you so long?" Donghae asked, feigning annoyance.

Hyukjae smiled faintly. "Business. I work at the—"

"—at the resort," Donghae finished. "Monteview Stay Resort. I know."

"Oh?" Hyukjae sat up.

Hyukjae raised his brows in pleasant surprise, switching his sitting position. Now, his entire body faced Donghae, who was still sat in his beach chair facing the ocean. Donghae remained calm and collected, pretending not to notice. He didn't want Hyukjae to know that he'd run a background check on the man with his best friend several nights before. On the outside, he appeared relaxed, but in his mind, Donghae was scrambling for a way to cover his tracks.

"You gave me your namecard, remember?"

Hyukjae paused audibly while trying to recall whether he'd done that, before nodding briefly in acknowledgment.

"Oh yeah. Sorry. I nearly forgot. I give my namecard out all the time. Hardly keep track of who I've given it too."

Still facing the ocean, the tint of his shades darkening to match the intensity of the sun, Donghae reached for his pina colada on the small round table that divided their beach chairs. He took a sip before setting the glass back down on the table.

"So anyway," he started, "tell me more about yourself. What are you here for? Purely for business? Will you be here long? And why did you approach me at the—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Hyukjae interjected, raising his hands in front of him, palms facing Donghae. "One at a time."

Donghae bit his lip.

"Sorry. Are you here purely for business?"

Hyukjae nodded silently.

"Okay," Donghae shifted his eyes, thrown off by the auburn-haired man's brief response. "How long will you be here for?"

Hyukjae threw up two fingers in the air. "Two months."

Donghae sighed, exasperated. He shot a look at Hyukjae.

"What?"

"Can't you at least sound like you're interested?"

Hyukjae smoothed his hair. He smiled, this time smugly.

"I am interested," he said, his voice quiet, "but not in talking about myself. Let's talk about you."

Donghae shifted uncomfortably as Hyukjae leaned forward, his eyes glaring intently. If his eyes could emit laserbeams they'd be burning holes in me right about now, Donghae thought. He took a deep breath, trying as best as he could to remain calm despite the weird tension that started to thicken between them. Donghae sat up and changed his position. Now they were both sitting on their beach chairs facing inwards, looking at each other.

"What do you wanna know?"

Hyukjae bent forward, resting his chin on his palm. He pursed his lips together, before breaking into a soft smile.

"How have you been?"

Donghae, flustered at the sudden question about his well-being, picked up his pina colada, taking another sip. He bowed his head, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. He didn't exactly like the attention, and wasn't fond about talking about himself either, to be honest. And besides, the only person who ever really checked on him was Kyuhyun, and they'd known each other since they were in their early teens. It felt strange hearing such a question from a total stranger. He hesitated.

When Donghae didn't answer, Hyukjae's smile faded. A sincere look of concern appeared in its place. Hyukjae exhaled.

"I know you don't remember me," he whispered, "but I never forgot you."

"W-what?"

"I never, not once, forgot you."

Hyukjae began to fumble around in his pocket, pulling his wallet out. Donghae watched, eyes widened in confusion, as Hyukjae produced a photograph from his wallet. Biting his lower lip, he handed the photograph to Donghae. Donghae took his shades off, sliding them into the pocket of his bermuda shorts with his free hand.

He stared. It was a photograph taken at one of those Japanese photobooths; the kind that allowed you to decorate the photo with cute digital stickers and scribbles before you opted to print the photograph out; and in it, there were two people. One of them, a raven-haired young man who appeared to be of around eighteen to nineteen years of age, was hugging another young man of about the same age. The latter had wavy, dark brown hair, like Donghae's. Donghae figured the raven-haired man had to be Hyukjae, for he possessed the same small eyes, button nose and lips that Hyukjae had, but he couldn't make out who the other man was. He scanned the man's features; he looked eerily like himself, but somehow, Donghae just couldn't make the connection. He could hardly remember anything from before he turned twenty, let alone whether or not it really was him in the picture. For all he knew, Hyukjae could have just been some creep who doctored a picture to make him think they'd known each other before he turned twenty. He was rich, afterall, and the rich, in Donghae's perspective, were capable of anything. But the question is, why?

Hyukjae broke the silence. "We were in love once."

Hairs on the back of Donghae's neck stood at once, as if the ghost of Christmas past had brushed arms with him in the form of Hyukjae. He felt torn between wanting to find out more, and not wanting to make a connection to what happened prior to the accident. He was afraid that there were things in his past that he'd be better off not knowing, and anyway, seven long years had passed since he lost his memory. Seven whole years. If Hyukjae had really been in love with him a long time ago, why did it take him so damn long to find him? He shuddered at the endless possibilities, and upon recollection of how lonely he had been for nearly the past decade.

"I don't remember anything," Donghae stated flatly. "Also, I don't believe you."

Hyukjae grimaced at the sharpness of Donghae's words, holding his hand out, prompting Donghae to give the photograph back to him. He quickly slipped it back into his wallet, stuffing the wallet into the back pocket of his shorts in silence. The words had hit him like daggers to the heart, and he wasn't quite sure what to say. Following the silence, Donghae mustered up the courage and continued.

"Don't you think it's really weird, at least from my perspective, that some random stranger approaches me out of nowhere near a waterfall; me of all people; tells me to call him, and later on tells me we were once lovers? And even if it was true how the hell did you know I was at the waterfall that day, or that I'm even here in Jeju in the first place? Are you some kind of professional stalker or something?"

In an attempt to explain himself, Hyukjae straightened his back and opened his mouth, only for Donghae to interrupt.

"For all I know you could just be some psycho preying on single men who lived alone for god knows what reason and I just happened to be in your line of sight when you wanted to play—"

"Shut up."

"—this sick, weird game of Frighten The Brunette in Jeju and I—"

"I SAID SHUT UP."

Passers-by turned, looking at the pair, shocked at Hyukjae's sudden outburst. Donghae too, had cowered at the outburst, keeping his head bowed. He dared not look Hyukjae, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Hyukjae breathing heavily, fists clenched. He immediately regretted being so brazen and harsh. He barely knew the man, and he had no clues whatsoever as to whether the man really was a part of his unknown past, aside from the photograph he had shown him earlier. And if he wasn't a part of the past then it made his outburst all the more frightening. What if he really is a psychopath?

Suddenly, Hyukjae stood up, taking a step forward and grabbing Donghae by the arm. He yanked him upwards, put on his slippers and prompted Donghae to do the same, and began to walk in the direction of the resort nearby, the resort he owned, with Donghae in tow. People stared, more out of curiosity rather than concern, at the pair. Donghae tried to pull his arm away, but the auburn-haired man was strong.

"Where are you taking me?!"

"Just follow me. I wanna show you something."

They kept walking. Donghae thought Hyukjae was taking him to the resort he owned, but when they kept walking further and further past the resort towards a single bungalow standing in solitude away from civilisation, he panicked and started to tug his arm out of Hyukjae's grip.

"What the do you think you're doing?!" Donghae yelled, rubbing his wrist after he finally broke free from Hyukjae.

Hyukjae tilted his head back, rolling his eyes.

"I'm taking you to our house."

"What? Our house? Are you ing nuts?!"

"JUST FOLLOW ME, WON'T YOU? JESUS CHRIST YOU'RE A—"

"Why the should I follow you to a creepy stand-alone house and let you murder me? What the !"

Upon hearing this, Hyukjae chortled. He laughed hard, bending forward. It made Donghae feel like a complete idiot, standing there, unsure of what to do. He felt a little sheepish, even.

"Lee Donghae," Hyukjae said gently after he had calmed down. "you're still the same paranoid little I fell in love with all those years ago, you know that?"

Donghae still didn't know how to react, growing increasingly nervous at Hyukjae's sudden switch of tone. Hyukjae, on the other hand, looked at the visibly shaken man and smiled reassuringly. He reached his hand out and placed it on Donghae's shoulder, causing the latter to wince. Hyukjae moved his hand from his shoulder to his chin, pushing upwards so that Donghae looked him directly in the face. He softened his expression.

"I'm not going to murder you," he said calmly. "what I do wanna do, however, is help you remember your past...but only if you let me."

Donghae darted his eyes, avoiding eye contact with the man who stood before him. They had wandered off to a part of the beach that was more secluded, away from tourists and beachgoers, and were not more than a hundred metres away from the house that Hyukjae, for some reason, called theirs. Mentally waving off all the possibilities of this auburn-haired man being after his blood, he nodded, albeit being slightly reluctant. Hyukjae smiled, releasing his hand from Donghae's chin.

"Good. Now let's go; I've waited years to show you this."

Upon entering the beige, two-storey house that overlooked the sea, Hyukjae removed his slippers, placing them in a shoe rack near the entrance of the main door. Donghae followed suit. The house was beautiful; it had a rustic feel to it, just the way Hyukjae liked it. The walls were covered from top to bottom in a greyish-white, brick patterned wallpaper, with beautiful paintings and photographs that had been framed up hung from the surfaces. The house was well-furbished to say the least; the furniture came in either black, brown or white and were mostly made out of wood, accentuating the vintage aesthetic that the decorator, mainly Hyukjae, was going for. Donghae walked around, scanning the walls until his eyes caught hold of a specific framed photograph on the wall. Next to a big, flatscreen television that had been mounted onto the wall, was a framed photo of the same young brunette Donghae had seen in the photograph Hyukjae kept in his wallet. The young brunette was sitting on a picnic mat in the middle of a grassy field, clad in a grey sweater and blue, acid-washed jeans. He was smiling, head tilted, at the photographer. Donghae reached his hand out, caressing the face of the brunette in the photograph, before touching his own face. This time, he was sure that that young brunette in the photograph in front of him, was him. It was like staring at his own reflection, except his reflection had aged backwards. It frustrated him, however, that he couldn't make any sense of the photograph.

"Hyukjae ah," he called, his voice small. "Come here for a sec."

Hyukjae, who had been arranging items on the dining table after they had entered the house, walked over.

"What is it, Donghae?" He joined Donghae, who was standing in front of the large framed photograph of himself with a questionable look on his face.

Donghae caressed the face of the young brunette in the photograph once more, swallowing. He turned to Hyukjae.

"Hyukjae ah," he said once more, this time his voice smaller than before. "Is this me?"

Hyukjae was flustered at how small Donghae suddenly appeared in his eyes. It was difficult trying to explain a person's past to the person himself, especially since he had no recollection of it. He knew that revealing too much about Donghae's past to him at once could possibly overwhelm him, so he kept it simple: he nodded.

"It's you."

Donghae took a step back, placing a finger on one of his temples, massaging it gently. He turned around and sat down on the beige-coloured couch, sinking into the fabric, leaving Hyukjae to stand in front of the framed photograph alone. Hyukjae glanced over at the man who now sat still on the couch, an unfathomable sadness washing over him. Donghae's face was sombre. He waited for Donghae to speak.

"Hyukjae ah," Donghae called out for the third time, staring straight at the ground.

Hyukjae his heel and sat down next to Donghae, leaving a little bit of space in between them in case Donghae felt overwhelmed by it all—the photos, the memories, him. There was a brief silence before them, causing Hyukjae to stir in his seat uncomfortably, before Donghae finished.

"Tell me what you know about who I was before I lost my memory. Tell me about—" he paused briefly. "—us."

Hyukjae hesitated. He didn't know how much to share, and he worried that the overload of information would scare the poor man off. He had no idea what Donghae must have felt all those years after losing his memory, but what he did know is that he really wanted to help him remember. He gulped, mentally reminding himself to thread his words carefully.

"Well..." Hyukjae cleared his throat. "For starters, I can only tell you what I know about you, and that means I'll only be able to tell you information beginning from when we met in high school. We went to the same high school in Busan. Dongcheon High."

Hyukjae looked at Donghae for permission to continue. Donghae nodded.

"We met when Kim Youngbae-seonsaengnim forced us to be partners in a science class. It sounds really ing stupid and cliché, but I fell in love at first sight. I didn't tell you, of course. We continued being partners for the rest of the semester, and then winter break came. That was when I gathered the courage to—" Hyukjae paused for a second, rubbing his index over his severely chapped lips as if in an attempt to smoothen the skin out. "—the courage to ask you out. Surprisingly, you said yes."

Hyukjae gave Donghae some time to absorb the information. He watched as Donghae combed his fingers through his hair, his face as telling as a doll.

"What happened next?"

Hyukjae rubbed his neck, smiling at the memories that began to play in his mind. "Then we dated. In secret."

Envy pooled in Donghae as he watched Hyukjae smile to himself. As nice as it was to see how happy the memories made the auburn-haired man, an ache sprouted in Donghae's chest.

"Must be nice to be able to recall everything," Donghae mumbled, sounding defeated. "What else?"

"Well, we had a lot of fun. We were so in love, Donghae. But then—" Hyukjae paused again, expression withering. "When we graduated from high school, you moved onto college with your best friend. I can't really remember his name. K-kyu..."

"Kyuhyun," Donghae completed. "Did you go to college with us?"

Hyukjae shook his head, frowning. "No, I didn't. My parents made me go to a college overseas. And just like that, we were separated; you in South Korea, and me in America. Before I left, I made a promise to you. I promised I'd write you, and that after the four long years of being away from you, I'd come back and find you. I kept to my promise."

"You did?"

"Yes, I did. Kind of. I wrote you as often as I could, and you even wrote back until one day, you stopped." Hyukjae hung his head, unable to look at Donghae. "I wrote to you a few days before your twentieth birthday, but you never wrote back. I thought I did something wrong, or worse, I thought you found someone else."

Suddenly, Hyukjae got up and walked towards the television console. He bent down and pulled out a drawer, retrieving something from inside it. He stood up and returned to his seat next to Donghae, handing the item to Donghae. It was a newspaper clipping; a Korean newspaper clipping, and the heading of the article read:

Family involved in freak hit-and-run accident; Parents killed, boy in critical condition.

Hyukjae pursed his lips together. There was a brief silence in the air that divided them again, but this time, it was caused by the tears that began welling up in Hyukjae's eyes. He tilted his head back in a bid to prevent them from falling, but they fell anyway. Donghae sat still, quiet and too shaken to move. His eyes kept scanning the content of the article, over and over until he understood what it was about. He looked at the photo featured in the article; it was a family photo, made up of, presumably, Donghae and his parents. In the photo, Donghae was sitting in between a man and woman who appeared to be in their late fourties. The three of them beamed widely at the camera. Donghae noticed how he had placed his hands on his parents' laps in the photo, and upon noticing that, a painful ache filled his chest once again. That same sense of longing that he'd been experiencing for the last seven lonesome years, had gotten stronger than ever before. Looking at the photo in the article had somehow caused a voice in his head to echo repeatedly. They're gone, it said. Your parents are gone. You have no one now.

Donghae's stare was blank. It scared Hyukjae, and immediately he wondered if he should have kept the article hidden from him for a bit longer. Afterall, he didn't know what Donghae had already found out about his past, and what he hadn't.

"I'm sorry," Hyukjae apologised. "I'm really, really sorry. I said too much."

"No, don't say sorry. Tell me more," Donghae said, his voice low. "please."

Hyukjae observed Donghae's expression carefully, contemplating whether or not to continue. He couldn't help but to notice how visibly shaken Donghae was. Despite the emotionless look on his face, the newspaper clipping pinched between Donghae's fingers began to crease from the tightness of his grip. Hyukjae reached his hand out, placing it on Donghae's arm gently so as not to startle him. After a few seconds, Donghae relaxed his shoulders, followed by his grip on the clipping, the tension slowly escaping his being. Hyukjae took this as a green light to continue, this time being even more careful with his choice of words.

"I printed this article from a Korean news site. A friend from our high school had given me the link to it via e-mail. That was how I realised that the reason you stopped replying to my letters and picking up my video calls, was because you simply couldn't."

Donghae didn't move at all. There were far too many thoughts circling around in the depths of his mind for him to even pick one to focus on. A throbbing headache took over, causing Donghae to drop the newspaper clipping and raise his hands towards his temples, massaging his head. Perhaps he had overestimated himself. Perhaps all of this was too much to take in. However, Donghae knew that all of this was essential information, and that in order for him to figure out who he was before the accident, he had to hear it. All of it. He calmed himself down, closing his eyes, mentally counting until he felt ready to speak again. It didn't take long before he did.

"How did all of this make you feel?" he asked, blinking back tears.

Hyukjae hung his head slowly, withdrawing his hand from Donghae's arm.

"Hurt." Hyukjae began to pinch and scratch at the fabric of his shorts. "I thought I lost you forever."

But you didn't. Donghae shifted in his seat and began to move closer to the auburn-haired man who couldn't bring himself to face him. He ran his fingers over the man's lap and found his way to his hand, holding it tightly. Donghae forced a faint smile onto his face, squeezing Hyukjae's hand.

Hyukjae looked up.

"Thank you."

Hyukjae shook his head. "You shouldn't be thanking me, really. I'm just glad that after nearly eight, excruciatingly long years, I found you again. I'm so, so glad. You have no idea."

Donghae smiled thinly. In some odd way, even though he had only met this man several days before, his presence was comforting. It definitely felt better knowing that he wasn't alone anymore, and although this man was still technically a stranger to him despite the history they might have had before he lost his memory, he convinced himself that he was okay. He was okay with the presence of this man. He was okay with everything the man had just shared. Most importantly, he was okay with letting the man help him remember the part of his life that he struggled to recollect. Donghae sobered up, squeezing Hyukjae's hand once more.

"Well this is a ty way to spend a birthday."

Hyukjae turned, confused. "Birthday? It's your birthday?"

"You're not a very good lover, are you?" Donghae joked.

Hyukjae cracked a smile in response, checking his phone. 15th October.

". I totally forgot. Looks like we're gonna have to have lunch and dinner together then, huh."

Donghae laughed.

"I guess so."