Yesung's POV

Yesung arrived at their apartment completely famished. Everything is quiet. Jongjin mentioned they will take Kkoming and Melo out today. He can’t really remember. His brain doesn’t register any new information nowadays. It’s like his brain is coping on its own. He doesn’t have time to think anyway. He has been extremely busy shooting his new movie. He comes home completely tired that eating has become an option. He grew a bit thinner than usual. Not that anyone notice; he is always on a diet after all.

He wasn’t ready for the quiet early this morning though; suddenly wishing for company. Even the dogs will do. The silence is deafening; echoing his thoughts. He hates his thoughts.

It’s been four months.

How are you? Are you eating well? I am not. Would you get mad at me if you knew? Would you still care?

The initial pain of her leaving is gone. He remembers not being able to swallow even one spoonful of food when she left. He went straight to his room, refusing anyone, didn’t eat for a week, slept, cried, screamed at the walls. It was hard.

But life goes on. Or is he really living? Whatever activity, show or opportunity the label throws his way he would say yes without questions. He needs to be busy. What was he supposed to do? He was stupid enough to fall for someone he doesn’t have anything more than a name. When he looked back, he gets angry at himself. He didn’t get her social media accounts. He was so confident; secured. A fool.

He was so angry at the way things ended, at everything. He was angry at her. After two months, he deleted any trace of her from his phone. It was the only way to cope. Or else he wouldn’t be able to gather the strength to simply go out of his room. Also, his mom. She cried to him. She doesn’t deserve to see his son slowly slip away. He owed it to her. So, he did everything he could to function. He erased her. He tried.

He quietly marched to his room and collapsed on the bed. Not bothering to change his clothes.

He stared at the ceiling. His bed even reminds him of Saab. The way her hair spread to his pillow, the way she stands looking at his movie collection, pursing her lips while thinking if she already watched everything. He misses her. He wanted to see her face. Why did I erase everything?

Erasing all her pictures starting from their first date at the amusement park, the camping site, her hotel, Armoire… He refuses to go to Armoire.

Day by day, her memory becomes faint; her face becomes a blurry haze.

Why didn’t I keep one picture?

I was so angry.

But as time pass by, as the pain diminishes, he can’t help but recall all the happy times they had. She came to his life like a breath of fresh air and she left the same way, just slightly forceful, okay maybe too much, like a storm.

He shook his head; getting up to reach for his pen and notebook. He wanted to write a song.

Where is my notebook?

He chuckled at himself. He can’t even remember where he left it. His brain is in ruins.

I must have inserted it in my jacket.

He dragged his off his bed and went to his closet.

So many clothes. He tossed and turned some of the pockets but to no avail. He can’t find it. He slumped to the floor in defeat. Then he saw it; lying to the floor adjacent to his tracksuits.

Tracksuits.

He felt his heart tighten. That tracksuit.

He didn’t realize it was there. He can’t even remember how he took it off; when he took it off. Was it on the first morning she was gone? Was it when he vomited his guts out after a week of not eating anything? Or was it that day his mother found him burning in fever? Everything was a blur. She was the only one that mattered.

He tugged the tracksuit from the hanger.

The memories flooded back. How she smiled when he put on the suit and how she exclaimed that red is one of his colors. He touched the cloth softly. Afraid that even something as tangible as clothing would fade away.

He smiled bitterly.

A clear moment came to him.

Saab put fishcake on his pocket that day; saying he should eat it when he gets hungry. That silly girl.

He searched the pocket for it. Its gone. Of course, it is gone. His mother probably threw it away or else it would have been rotten and smelly. He sighed. What am I doing?

He put the pocket inside out in annoyance and threw it haphazardly to the rack when a piece of paper fell.

His heart beat so fast as he looked at the innocent piece of paper.

Could it be? Did she put something else aside from the fish cake?

He picked up the paper and dropped to the floor; taking a nervous peek, afraid to be mistaken.

It’s her handwriting.

His hands are shaking; his heart about to give. But he can’t cry. He can’t cry anymore.

“I prepared a gift for you but I can’t give it to you personally. It slipped my mind and ran out of time.

You can still get it if you don’t hate me. Find a souvenir shop in Ihwa Village owned by an old man.

Remember that old man I told you about? The one who took my pictures?

Tell him you are the guy from Shuju. (Yes, SHUju. Kkkkk.) He will give it to you.

P.S.

HE HATES THE ICE CREAM AT MILK GONGBANG BUT ITS SO GOOD YOUR OLD SHOULD TRY IT.

ALSO, DON’T VISIT NAKSAN PARK’S FREEDOM WALL. YOU SAID YOU WONT.

Never stop smiling, Jongwoon-ah.”  - Saab.

He carefully put the note in his pocket, grabbed a jacket from the rack and dashed to the door.

______

Some people recognize him but he doesn’t care. They didn’t dare approach either. They weren’t sure its him. His eyes under his sunglasses are busy searching for the old man. There are so many shops in Ihwa Village. Why didn’t she leave a clear instruction? Saab. He wanted to pinch her cheeks in annoyance.

His t-shirt is sticky with sweat. It’s almost summer. Come to think of it. Saab left in November. Even the weather is following her whims. He scanned the twisting alleys once more. The village is known for the artistic murals. The place is beautiful; his taste. Hers. Why didn’t he think of coming here with Saab? He confined her within the walls of Riviera. Regrets washed him instantly. He remembers the itinerary she made. She wasn’t able to go to Gwangali Beach, the Teddy Bear Museum at Jeju Island, the Sanmotoonge. He could have. Should have.

He tried to recall her story. Hmmm. She said the old guy took her picture then she bought him ice cream on Milk Gongbang. Okay. That’s it.

He followed the directions given to him by an ahjumma down the back-alley and found himself in front of an ice cream shop full of customers. He hesitated for a bit then he went to the counter to order. They prepared the ice cream quick. He was impressed.

He hurried outside to avoid the stares; pretending to be a normal tourist in a hoodie and sunglasses.

Where do I find that stall? He asked himself as he the dripping cream on his hands. The ice cream is delicious. Saab didn’t lie. She doesn’t lie; except when she left him.

He shook his head. He is becoming unfair. She didn’t tell him she will stay from the start and he was too afraid to ask.

He was lost in thoughts, allowing his feet to lead him.

“Excuse me? Boy. Hey.”

It took him a minute to realize someone was talking to him. Boy? Who in their right mind would call him a boy? He is old.

“Sorry?” He turned to look. A face set with dark wrinkles greeted him. Could it be? “Are you looking for something? Someone? I can’t help but notice you walking around repeatedly on the same streets. You look too good to be a bad person. Judging from your watch.” The man chuckled.

“Ahm—” He said, trying to smile and hide his expensive watch. Why did I go out without my manager? “I’m looking for a souvenir shop owned by an old man?”

“What kind of shop?”

He scratched his head. “I honestly don’t know.”

“You’re a weird boy.” The man spat to the floor. He looked at him, judging. He was about to leave when he spoke. “I will guess, you are probably looking for Dokhwa. Go straight, then left at the second corner. You will find the shop at the edge of Naks