Minseok stares out his window. The sky is overcast, and the stars hidden behind clouds. The weather cast had said thunderstorms and even though Minseok loves thunderstorms, it’s not quite the reason he sits in the windowsill. No, it’s something else that has Minseok bound by the window, unable to leave as his breath fogs up the glass.

He opens the window slightly, enough to let in a small breeze. He can hear the waves crashing against the cliffs close by. It’s a hymn that usually cradles him to sleep on days when he can’t sleep, and the salty scent of the ocean is often there to let him forget everything, just for a second or two. The expectations when he wakes up, the responsibilities that weighs on his shoulder.

Despite finding refuge in the ocean close by, Minseok never steps foot in the water. Sometimes, more often than not, he wishes he could be brave and let the waves sweep him away. Let the water rinse his mind and let him forget who he is forever. That they could slowly and carefully let him see the end. But Minseok never dares jump when he stands at the cliff, staring at the strong dark blue that seems both so dangerous and so gentle.

He opens the window just a little more, enough for the scent to slip in and overwhelm him. The smell of seaweed that hits his nostrils lets Minseok know that the ocean is rough tonight. The sound of the waves slamming against the rocks and eating away at what has been created through millions and millions of years get to him. When the window is open enough for Minseok to slip out he does so. He has no reason to be leaving the comfort of his home, but his socked feet still stand in the dewy grass when he closes the window behind him.

The water soon soaks through the cotton and turns Minseok’s feet cold, but he doesn’t care too much. Maybe tonight will be the night he finally dares join the ocean in its enormity and lets it sweep him away.

Minseok sneaks under the window to his parents’ bedroom as he continues his way towards the edge of the cliff. The hedge crackles when he bursts through it and finds the beaten hiking path. The small stones have him hissing in pain when he steps on them, but he continues towards his favorite place. The scent of the ocean grows stronger the closer he gets and it takes him only 3 minutes before he stands before the edge and stares into the white sea spray. He lets the drops hit his face and smiles as he looks out towards the horizon where dark ocean meets the black night.

A crack of thunder from above allows the first rain to fall and soon he’s soaked from head to toe. Minseok doesn’t care too much that, however. Lighting light up the sky and Minseok turns his head towards it. Instead of the black silhouette of rocks and pine forest in the background he expects, he sees the black silhouette of what looks like a person standing on the edge just like him. It has him taking a step back. Instead of feeling scared for what he’s about to witness he feels exposed, . He feels like whoever it is has looked at his innermost secret, his innermost desire to die.

Rationally speaking, it’s ridiculous for Minseok to think like that, it’s stupid to assume the other person has looked his way but Minseok still can’t help it. He turns his back to the sea and the crashing waves and instead finds the path again as he follows it towards the other person. Every step closer to the other person who has sought the same place as he in a thunderstorm lets him feel braver. He feels somewhat connected to the stranger he doesn’t know. The closer the get, the clearer the silhouette gets in the lighting that continues to bathe the sky in white light.

It’s a young man, Minseok observes, from a few meters away. He’s not standing as close to the edge as Minseok usually is but it’s close enough to jump if he wants to. For some reason, Minseok hopes that’s not the reason he’s here.

A step too incautious has Minseok snapping a branch on the forest floor and the stranger turns around, obviously alarmed at the idea that he’s not alone. Minseok steps out from the shadows of the pine tree and on the large rock the two strangers stare at each other. The waves are still crashing around them, the wind picking up and slapping drops of salt water on their cheeks. They are both soaked with the rain water and the thunder still claps above them once in a while. The storm is moving inland but it feels like time has stopped on the edge of the cliff.

Minseok is too scared to break the silence. He’s scared the magic will break; he’s scared that the stranger will take a step closer to the edge and fall into the dark water. He’s scared he won’t be able to do what he came to do, and he’s scared he’ll witness someone do what he wants to do but can’t.

He doesn’t know for how long they stand there. The rain slows down to a small drizzle, the sound of thunder disappears in the distance and the waves seem to settle. The magic disappears from the moment when the stranger takes a step back from the edge and sits down about a meter away. He pulls his knees towards his chest and stares at the ocean. Minseok feels his feet waver a little, wanting to step closer to the edge, wanting to fall, but then he sees the sky again and the fear returns like always. Instead he settles next to the stranger with a reasonable distance between them.

“I came here to die,” the stranger says after 10 minutes of staring into the horizon. Minseok looks at him shocked before he realizes that’s why he’s here as well. To die.

“Me too,” Minseok answers in a whisper but the wind carries the sound to the stranger anyway. When the two young men look at each other it strikes Minseok just how beautiful the other man is.

His cheeks are slightly hollow, cheekbones prominent. His jaw line is incredible, one Minseok feels slightly jealous of. His eyes, although dark in the night, show the galaxy and his dark hair, now wet, clings to his forehead. There is nothing about this stranger that Minseok doesn’t find beautiful.

“Why?” the stranger asks and Minseok looks up from the ground. He tilts his head confused and the stranger sends him a sad smile.

“Why did you come here to die?”

Oh. Minseok doesn’t knows where to begin. There are the expectations his parents keep forcing on him, suffocating him in their well-wishes and their desires for him to live their lives. There is the loneliness at night when Minseok again is left involuntarily alone, sitting on his window sill wishing for just one friend. There is the profound battle of who he is, the man he no longer knows and understands and feelings he can’t quite keep under control. There is the responsibility to be the best, to always succeed and to be talented and praised. Minseok is the family pride and it’s the only thing he doesn’t want to be. Not anymore. Minseok is what someone else has wanted him to be all his life and the only thing he feels now is empty. A shell full of numbness and pain.

“I have nothing to live for,” he says instead of elaborating his answer to the stranger. The other man nods a little and rests his chin on his knees, staring at the horizon again.

“I don’t want death. I just can’t live anymore,” the stranger says to no one in particular but Minseok knows he wants to be heard. It’s a desire so primal that Minseok feels it too, understands it on a fundamental level.

Minseok wants to ask why but he doesn’t feel he has any business in why. He’s not brave enough to ask why like the other man did. He’s not worthy of an answer either. Minseok removes his gaze from the stranger and pulls his knees towards his chest. They sit in silence for another 30 minutes, just staring at the ocean before the stranger breaks the magic when he stands. Instead of running towards the cliff he disappears back into the forest and Minseok is left alone to his thoughts of failure and to the lingering touch in the night air of something else, someone who doesn’t know the empty shell. And Minseok feels something ignite within him, something that dares to be more than just an empty shell for everybody else.

----

The room is warm and Minseok is sweating in his suit. In the audience sits his parents, waiting for their prodigy of a son. The one thing Minseok doesn’t feel like he is. Behind him stands his competition. If Minseok could, he would grant them first prize and leave in seconds, run away. Minseok can’t, however. He’s bound to the spotlight for as long as his mother wants him to continue with the piano.

The black and ivory keys aren’t the problem. The sound the produce isn’t the problem either and Minseok sometimes feels like he has the world in his hands when he plays. For as long as the music sounds, he's not the shell. As soon as the sound dies down in the large room, however, Minseok returns to the shell. He sees his mother clap in her formal wear, dreaming of a time when she was the one playing the piano and not her son. Minseok knows she wants to go back to the day she shattered her wrist and with it, her dreams of ever playing on the world’s biggest stages.

But Minseok doesn’t dream of playing on big stages and he doesn’t want to be a world-renowned pianist. He wins the first place of the competition as always. He’s been groomed for first place and he knows how to act to please the audience, to please his parents. Minseok feels hollow as he steps off the stage and the desire to punch the grand piano burns in his fingers. It wouldn’t do much, however, so Minseok lets it be as he steps off stage and hides in the darkness again.

In his bedroom is stacks upon stacks of engineering books and homework. It’s his father’s wish, his father’s dream. Minseok, the chemical engineer. Minseok the great son that does everything right. He’s already enrolled in a prestigious program and Minseok can’t turn it down even though it hurts his eyes to read through book after book. He doesn’t understand much of what he reads and still he works hard to be in Top 5 of his class, just so he can fulfill his duty as their son.

Minseok sinks towards the floor and lets his back rest against the door. Outside he hears his mother praise his performance and his father boast about his latest A and Minseok just wants to hide, wants to run away like he always does in these situations. He sniffles to stop the tears from flowing because who is he to cry when he has the opportunities he has. As he stands he looks in the mirror and sees chubby cheeks and dark brown hair in unattractive curls. He sees the layer of foundation to hide his skin and he sees the black lines around his eyes to highlight them. So he looks good in the spotlight, his mother says. Minseok doesn’t know who the one staring back at him is. It feels so foreign for Minseok to look at his mirrored self. The image of perfection that stares back at him is not what Minseok sees. He sees dead eyes and a hollow soul. He sighs and turns away.

----

The stranger is there again the next time Minseok comes to the cliff. The sun is fighting clouds to shine its light on the human world and the waves are at rest today, only lazily lapping at the stones beneath them. The stranger is sitting so close that his feet dangle over the edge and hits the rock beneath. Minseok doesn’t get that close, scared that he won’t be able to turn around. He does whisper out a greeting, however.

They sit for a while as the sun break through and the stranger lays down, arms spread out, closed eyes soaking up the sun. He’s dressed in a sweater that looks too big on his frame and his cheeks look slightly hollower but when he turns his face towards Minseok and opens his eyes, they still show the galaxy and Minseok convinces himself the differences he sees aren’t there. It was dark last time they saw each other, Minseok could’ve easily missed something important.

“Are you here to die again?” the stranger asks and Minseok shakes his head. Not in daylight. Only when the stars fight against clouds and the waves are rough and relentless.

“What about you?” Minseok asks back and the stranger shrugs.

“Death is inevitable anyway,” he says mysteriously and Minseok holds his breath when he sits up. Instead of jumping down, however, the stranger pulls back and away from the edge, closer to Minseok.

“I’m Kim Jongdae.”

Minseok stares at Jongdae. He doesn’t understand how a man that seeks death can look so full of life. There is a hope burning within Jongdae that reaches Minseok, even when they sit far apart. Minseok can’t quite believe his desire to die but he understands that he’s not privileged enough to ask. Minseok has never been privileged enough to ask.

“Kim Minseok,” he introduces himself instead and Jongdae lights up in a small smile.

“Do you think we’re related?” he asks, and it takes Minseok a few seconds to understand it’s because of the surname. It has him chuckling a little, a foreign action but it feels nice to just let loose. To not care about expectations and responsibilities, just for a short while.

Jongdae talks more than Minseok, his primal desire to be heard a lot stronger now than the first time they met. It’s okay, though, because Minseok doesn’t mind listening. Jongdae is fascinating. Free. The more Jongdae tells, the less Minseok understands his desire to die. He doesn’t tell Jongdae this, he doesn’t question, and he doesn’t tell Jongdae about himself, but he does promise to meet up again at the cliff.

Minseok goes to sleep that night with a galaxy in his dreams and when he wakes up in the cage of expectations his world seems bleaker than ever.

----

The next time they meet, the moon is shining from a clear sky, joined by millions of stars. Jongdae doesn’t say anything as Minseok sits beside him, only looks to recognize his presence and then turns back to where he’s looking. This time it’s Minseok’s turn to talk. He hasn’t planned on telling anything, his problems still only his, but the last week has been unbearable and Minseok is about to burst at the seams if he doesn’t let out.

He tells Jongdae about the piano, about the competitions he doesn’t want to win but wins regardless. He tells Jongdae about the suits and the mask in the mirror that is supposed to be pretty when everything behind feels so ugly. He tells Jongdae about the books on his bed and the homework and his recent A that he spent 5 nights studying for. He tells Jongdae about the loneliness because nobody cares for Minseok and the identity he no longer has. He tells Jongdae about the shell and the hollow feeling in his chest and he bites his lower lip when he realizes he’s almost crying.

Jongdae doesn’t say anything. He just sits in the darkness as Minseok spills his deepest secrets to a stranger. Minseok feels thoroughly embarrassed when he finishes, making motions to get up and never return. Jongdae might want death the same way Minseok does but Jongdae is essentially a stranger. A stranger Minseok should never have met, a stranger Minseok should never have opened up to.

As Minseok stands, Jongdae grabs his wrist and looks up. There’re a million words in his eyes, none of them ever leaving his mouth but Minseok understands. They look at each other, gazes locked, for what feels like years. It doesn’t help the hollow feeling or the embarrassment, but it has Minseok silently promising to return. Just one more time.

----

Someone runs past him in the hallway and Minseok presses up against the cold walls. He wants to be invisible. The loud chatter from the cafeteria is heard behind him as Minseok once again skips dinner and just hurries to the lecture. He has tried so hard for so long to fit in, but Minseok doesn’t fit in. Minseok will never fit in so he has given up. When he finds the room, he slinks inside and finds a chair at the back where he can hide. He doesn’t want to be questioned, he doesn’t want to be seen.

His professor ignores him like the rest of his class and Minseok feels relieved when they’re dismissed. The bag is heavy on his shoulder and it makes it difficult to keep his balance as he slowly follows the lines of the pavement back towards his house. Living far away has always had its disadvantages but for the first time in years, Minseok finds the distance is an advantage. It makes it easier to be alone, to be unseen, to be unaware of the expectations that’ll ultimately decide what he does next. He sighs and focuses on the lines between stone again as he moves forward.

Minseok missteps and falls up the stone stairs. His head hits the edge of the step and when he pulls back, embarrassed, he’s bruised and there’s blood on his fingers from the wound. A slow throbbing begins from the wound in his forehead and Minseok sighs. Luckily for him there is nobody in the narrow alley to have seen the accident. Unluckily for Minseok that means either walking home with a bleeding wound in his forehead or walking to the nearest ER to get it patched up. He doesn’t even know if it requires stiches, but he has no way of finding out. His mother will scold him for being careless and complain about the wound making him uglier. It’s that realization that has Minseok starting in the direction of the hospital and the ER.

It’s a good 20 minutes on foot and people are staring at him like he’s insane. Nobody has asked him if he’s in need of help, though, and for some reason, Minseok feels oddly satisfied that his own thoughts turn out to be true. Nobody cares for Minseok the human. Only Minseok the mask is of importance.

The ER is bustling busy but at least he’s given a bandage to put on the wound. He’s sitting there with bloodied hands and a wound in his forehead and feels miserable as people is rushed to care before him. When he finally sees a doctor, he’s given two stiches and a clean band aid to protect it from bacteria.

Minseok is on his way out of the ER when he spots a familiar form. The young man sits in a wheel chair, rolling slightly back and forth, looking bored. His jawline is sharp and his cheeks hollow, but his eyes shine galaxies and when he looks up he smiles towards Minseok and sends him a small wave.

Seeing Jongdae in the hospital has Minseok frozen in his spot. It’s like time has stopped and the world ceases to exist. Except of course it doesn’t and when Jongdae turns his wheelchair and follows a doctor into a room, the spell is broken and Minseok realizes he’s in the way. On the way home, Minseok tries hard not to think about the stranger that he doesn’t know.

----

The weather is overcast and reflects Minseok’s mood perfectly as he sneaks out of the house and down the cliff. The waves are rougher tonight, the sea foam hitting him in the face and letting him taste the salt. Minseok is walking eerily close to the edge, still too afraid to jump but slightly more determined to die. He just has one question before he dies. One he needs to ask, one he needs answered. That’s the last thing Minseok will ask in his life.

Jongdae is there where they’ve met earlier, sitting on the edge with his knees tucked against his chest. He looks more tired than before but Minseok disregards the exhaustion. It’s 1 AM, any normal human would be tired at 1 AM. As he sits down Jongdae turns his head towards him. There are no smiles and waves towards Minseok, only a tired glance before he watches the ocean again.

“Why were…” he asks and then stops, caught off guard by Jongdae’s eyes that once again has returned to him.

“I’m terminally ill,” Jongdae answers like Minseok managed to ask the question. It only leaves Minseok with more questions.

“Then why suicide?”

Jongdae scoffs a little and shakes his head before he turns towards the ocean again.

“Because death scares me. I can deal with the pain and the palliative treatment. But the thought of just not waking up again one day when I go to bed scares me. I’m afraid of forgetting what I have and afraid of losing control once I get sick enough. I don’t want people to care for me or suffer months before my demise. We all have to go sooner or later, right, so why not sooner?”

Minseok stares at the man beside him. It seems so surreal. Jongdae has everything to live for, everything to strive for in the last days, months, years of his life and Minseok doesn’t understand what compels him to the cliff. Except he understands the fear of death. With everything going on, with the emptiness Minseok has felt for years, he should’ve died long ago and yet he’s still here.

“Me too,” he admits. “Well, not the terminally ill-thing. The fear of death-thing.”

It has Jongdae turning his gaze back towards Minseok again and a questioning eye brow is raised in the darkness. It’s enough for Minseok to understand the question but he doesn’t know if he dares answer. The hope that’s still only an ember fights against the darkness in his chest and Minseok is scared of fueling it. Jongdae understands the quiet answer he receives, however, and he lies down on the cliff.

“Don’t die before me,” Jongdae says and Minseok promises, not knowing and not understanding why.

----

His mother waits for him in the hallway in her extravagant dress and her beautiful make-up. Minseok stands in his bedroom staring at the black suit that hangs on his closet door. Another performance, another dream that isn’t his. But instead of doing what he’s told, the little ember, that Jongdae ignited and somehow keeps alive, is fighting against it all. So Minseok just stares at the black suit, the dream that his mother keeps him hostage in and in a strange bout of courage he leaves the room in the t-shirt and the pair of shorts he’s wearing. His mother gasps when she sees him but Minseok isn’t about to play the piano tonight.

Instead he walks passed her, continues down the road and slips onto the forest path when he reaches it. He can hear scolding from behind him, arguments that die in the fresh air. Lies that he doesn’t trust anymore. Minseok feels rebellious and happy and even though he knows that it will all hit when adrenaline wears off and the expectations will be like a prison once again, right now nothing of what will be matters. What will be is the future and Minseok is only in the now, living amongst the forest and smelling the ocean.

When he reaches the cliff he’s there all alone. Jongdae is nowhere in sight and Minseok feels the happiness slightly fade away. He doesn’t know why he expected Jongdae to be at the cliff in the evening and he doesn’t know why he wants to tell Jongdae about his own rebellious action, but it feels important. There isn’t anything to be done about Jongdae’s non-existent presence and Minseok settles in the short grass right before the rocks and stares at the horizon. The water is dark blue like always, mysterious, dangerous, and beautiful. But today Minseok isn’t looking for the courage to jump down the cliff and into the water. He’s just looking at it like it’s a sight to behold and maybe it really is.

----

Jongdae still looks beautiful the next time they see each other but there’s something different about him. His skin is paler, his body thinner, his cheeks hollower. It’s like he’s disappearing in thin air and Minseok fears his bones will break but Jongdae assures him that he’s fine. A rough week but nothing that could have kept him away.

Minseok doesn’t know how to address his own feelings when he tells Jongdae about walking out of a performance and Jongdae sends him a large smile, rooting for him. It feels good and wrong at the same time. Minseok isn’t used to praise making him feel anything but wrong but knowing that Jongdae won’t get to turn his life around like Minseok is wrong. It affects Minseok a lot more than he thought it would.

Jongdae shushes him when Minseok relays his thoughts and Minseok decides to keep them lidded. If Jongdae doesn’t want his pity, Minseok will do anything to stop himself from feeling sorry for the other man. That’s the least he can do.

----

The first B he receives has his father widening his eyes and a frown shows on his face. Minseok doesn’t know what to say to defend it and decides he doesn’t have to defend a grade that’s perfectly fine. He doesn’t understand engineering, he doesn’t want to be an engineer and he lets his father know that. A slap lands on his cheek at his defiance and Minseok stalks out the front door.

With angry steps he hurries through the forest and he finds Jongdae at the cliff, legs hanging over the edge once again. He looks better than last time but it’s obvious that he’s losing the fight to his disease. Minseok feels horrible he didn’t notice before but Jongdae still demands that Minseok doesn’t feel sorry for him.

Instead Jongdae suggests they scream out their frustration and anger. Minseok isn’t quite sure what it’ll help but when Jongdae opens his mouth and lets out a scream of frustration, Minseok follows suit. They scream at the ocean and towards the sky, scolds them for letting misfortune and misery befall them and when they’re both hoarse, they look at each other and bursts into laughter. It’s short-lived but it’s freeing and Minseok feels his soul break through another prison bar and the ember of hope now grows into a small flame that flickers strongly in the wind.

----

Minseok reaches administration and lifts his hand to knock on the door. He is here to drop engineering. His father doesn’t know, but Minseok is about to do it anyway. The second his knuckles land on the door, however, Minseok gets cold feet. He looks desperately down the hallway to find a place to hide but before he gets to move, the door is opened, and he’s welcomed inside.

The office is as any other office. Wooden desks sits on both sides, a large front desk in the middle. There’s a potted plant that looks like it needs water in the left corner and sun shines in through the windows. The woman that opened the door walks behind the front desk and looks through some papers and Minseok takes a deep breath.

Now that he’s here, he feels the flame of courage in his chest expand just a little. It grows stronger and Minseok nods to himself. He will have to tell Jongdae about this when they meet again.

His father is displeased when he returns home with the news. There’s no more violence, only the overwhelming disappointment that seems to suffocate Minseok every time he looks at his parents. They beg him to snap out of it, to be reasonable. They tell him it’s everything he’s ever wanted – engineering and professional piano – and ask him how he can possibly give it up so easy and Minseok wants to tell them that it’s not what he wants but he can’t. He can’t tell them when he doesn’t know what he wants. Minseok has never wanted anything for himself before, he has never had any plans, any dreams. Asking him to choose now seems unfair at best.

He tells Jongdae all this when they meet up under the moon, knees against chests as they sit on the grass and watches the dark ocean. He tells Jongdae about the happiness when he finally let go of something he didn’t want, and he tells Jongdae about the disappointment and the fear of choosing. Minseok turns towards Jongdae and rests his cheeks on his knees so he can look comfortably at the other man.

“You should decide for me,” he says and Jongdae raises an eyebrow.

“Why?” he asks and Minseok shrugs a little awkwardly given his position. He’s too comfortable to want to untangle, though.

“I never knew what I wanted,” he says easily like it doesn’t matter anymore. With Jongdae it doesn’t seem to matter that much anyway.

“Then me choosing would just be the same prison your dad put you in.” Jongdae sighs a little. “Minseok, you have to choose for yourself now. You should grow your own dreams,” he says and sends Minseok a smile. It’s a smile that says a thousand words and Minseok gets surprised by the surge of blood that rushes to his cheeks. He lifts his head from his knees and looks towards the ocean, hoping the night disguises a bit of the blush. Jongdae doesn’t comment on it but he does continue talking about his own dreams. Minseok looks towards the sky and wishes the stars could grant Jongdae every one of his wishes.

----

Time goes by. Minseok learns how to dream when he meets up with different student instructors and seeing Jongdae deteriorate has Minseok deciding on medicine. It has his parents pleasantly surprised although his father still jabs at him for not becoming an engineer. It’s easier to ignore now, however, with Jongdae by the cliff to talk to. For years Minseok was a lonely shell but with a meeting in a thunderstorm, he feels free and reborn. Every time he watches Jongdae turn thinner and paler, he wishes he could do everything to return what Jongdae does for him.

It’s still not easy to be Minseok, but what earlier caged him has now set him free. The thing that cages him now are feelings he can’t quite explain. Feelings that seem like love but can’t possibly be that. He disregards them as stupid because he doesn’t even know if Jongdae is his friend. Every fiber of his being celebrates every time he sees Jongdae, though, and Minseok knows it has to be more than just pity.

When he asks Jongdae if they’re friends, Jongdae turns towards him with a raised eyebrow. He uses the crutch beside him to support himself as he stands and then hits Minseok’s head lightly with the end of it.

“Of course, you’re my friend.” He sounds slightly affronted and Minseok sends him a smile so light, so free, that Jongdae has to laugh.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Minseok says and takes a step forward and leans into a hug. The crutch digs uncomfortably into his ribs when Jongdae returns the hug. “I never thought I would find a friend like you.”

Jongdae doesn’t say anything but Minseok can see it in his eyes and his smile. It’s all he has to know.

----

Minseok is casually surfing through the news site when he reaches the obituaries. He reads the names in search of someone he knows when he stumbles upon the one name he never expected to read.

Kim Jongdae was born on September 21, 1992. He was a happy boy who sought joy in everything he did and who loved with everything he had. Bad days were a rarity and the kindness was one of a kind. He left us on August 29 after the longest battle of his life and he will be greatly missed.

Minseok’s vision turns blurry as he reads on, reads about Jongdae’s life and his achievements. He reads the funeral details and decides to attend, even if he has never met Jongdae’s family or his other friends. If not for Jongdae, Minseok would have found the courage to jump, would have found the courage to die.

If not for Jongdae, Minseok wouldn’t have turned his life around. Instead he would’ve died.

----

Attending the funeral hurts more than Minseok expects it to. All around are grieving people he doesn’t know. He finds who can only be Jongdae’s parents and introduces himself with his condolences, but he feels awkward afterwards.

Jongdae’s friends all stand together, some talking with family they know better and everybody is comforting one another in the wake of a young man that left the world too prematurely. Minseok feels the tears fall down cheeks at the memory of the man that had saved him with a simple question in a thunderstorm. He realizes then that his feelings were deeper than friendship. To Minseok, Jongdae was a savior. He was the one that believed in Minseok, the one that dared to tell and listen. The one who understood and never added expectations to Minseok. He was there as a comforting shoulder and whatever Minseok feels can only be described as love. Platonic or romantic, Minseok doesn’t care. He loved Jongdae and watching him resting for all eternity hurts more than he imagined it would.

A hand on his shoulder startles him and he quickly dries his tears. The man behind him looks like an older version of Jongdae.

“Hey,” he says and Minseok repeats the greeting. “You must be Minseok?”

Minseok nods and sniffs, drying another stubborn tear away.

“Kim Jongdeok, Jongdae’s older brother.”

He reaches out a hand and Minseok takes it carefully.

“Jongdae spoke a lot about you in his past days. He wanted you to know he was proud of you, I … er..”

Jongdeok touches his neck sheepishly and reaches into his back pocket to find a crumbled letter.

“I’m sorry, I read some of it. It’s for you. Here.”

When Minseok reaches out to take the letter, time freezes again. Jongdeok leaves to find someone else and Minseok stares at the letter with shaking handwriting. He doesn’t dare read it so instead of opening it, he puts it in his pocket and forgets it. Minseok has a life to live now because of Jongdae. A flame of hope that burns in his chest and Minseok is not going to give up now. With a last sniffle he leaves the funeral home and with tears in his eyes, he hides the letter in his desk, unread.

----

Five years later Minseok looks at his wife in the hospital bed. Their newborn son has been whisked away to the NICU and now they sit together, hands clenched around one another, hoping for the best. Minseok hasn’t forgotten Jongdae in this past 5 years, a memory that has him remembering to fight for his life, for his dreams. A memory so clear that Minseok some days swear that the stars in the night sky are Jongdae, looking at him and rooting for him.

When the doctor enters the room again, Minseok’s wife breaks down in tears next to him. Minseok wraps his arms around her, holds her tight and holds his breath until the doctor announces that their baby boy is no longer in life threatening condition. The tears of relief that flood from both of them has the doctor smiling a little. Minseok embraces his wife impossibly tighter and when he lets go slightly he looks at her.

“I want to name him Kim Jongdae,” he says and his wife sends him a smile amidst her tears.

“Kim Jongdae,” she repeats and Minseok nods. “I love it.”

----

The small boy that looks up at him when Minseok lifts him from the cradle looks nothing like his friend. He has a soft jawline and chubby cheeks. His eyes are small and mono-lidded. He’s the most beautiful thing Minseok has ever seen in his entire life.

The baby boy clenches and unclenches his hands and Minseok cradles him against his chest. When the boy opens his eyes, Minseok has to swallow a lump. In his son’s eyes shine galaxies.