As weeks passed, I was getting busier and busier with my exhibition preparation. I spend a lot of time after class in the art classroom, busy finishing my painting, and get home after dark.

It was dark when I leave the college building. I checked my phone to see the clock saying its 8.47 p.m. when I was waiting for my bus, someone ruffled my hair. I turned my head at the touch, to see Jae Hyuk saying bye to me as I waved back. Not long after he’s gone, Go A Ra came to the bus stop and smiled at me. She’s so pretty. I wish I can be as pretty as her. My thoughts are interrupted when my bus came.

I was walking on the bridge to cross to the other side of the road. The bridge was empty, reminding me that it was already late.

As I walking down, I saw someone familiar wearing dark-colored hoodie sitting on the park, where I always pass through when I’m on my way home, with his head down and his hands covering his face. I know immediately its Bobby. Why is he here? Honestly, I was excited to see him here.  I’ve been busy preparing my exhibition that it’s harder to spend time with friends these days.

I quicken my pace to where he sits.

“Hey! Why are you here?” I chimed excitedly, while tapping his shoulder.

He looked up from his palm, eyes red b with tears.

He stood up, shoulder still slumping. Tears started to form in his eyes again, he tried to speak but instead he swallowed what seemed like a big lump, as if it is hard for him to speak.

“Why? What happened?” I grabbed at his shirt, finding his face.

“M-My grandma just passed away.” He stutters

The sight in front of me makes my heart ache.

I dropped whatever things I’m carrying in my hands and I reached my arms out towards him and tiptoed slightly, before pulling him into a hug.

Directly after I pulled him into a hug, he sobbed into my shoulders, his arms around my waist, he hugged me so tight, hands clutching my clothes, as if we will crumble away if he let go. At first the sob was stifled, then overcome by wave of emotions that break him down entirely. All his defenses washed away in those tears. There is rawness in his cry, like the pain was still an open wound.

Eyes still red, we sat side by side at the park bench, both quiet.

He breaks the silence, “I’m going back to our hometown tomorrow, for the funeral.” I nodded and looked at him, concerned.

“Call me after you’ve arrived or if you need anything.” I said, wanting to be as present as possible to him.

“Actually,” he paused, “do you mind going back with me? I don’t think I can go through this alone.” He hesitates. I’m surprised to hear him ask me that.

When I kept my silence, he added “I mean if it’s okay with you. But you probably are busy wit-”

I cut him off before he finished his sentence, “I’ll go.” he turned his head rapidly at what I said, shocked to hear me agree so quickly. “I don’t mind. I’ll go with you.”

Still not believing what he heard is right; he asked again “How about your exhibition thing? You’re okay in ditching your preparation to go back with me?” I nodded without hesitation. His expression was confused at first, as if he’s still sinking in the fact that I agreed to go back with him, before he smiled, relieved.

Suddenly he extended his hand at me, his palm facing upward. Confused at his gesture, I look at him questioningly.

“Hand” he said in a soft voice.

I put my hand on top of his hand and he intertwined it.

He said softly, “Thank you”

All I can hear is the deafening, rapid beat of my heart.