c h a p t e r  t w o ; 

The flower petals fall

And become dirt

The burning passion becomes ash

Why does everything good always become like this?

-

The day of the festival arrived. Leeteuk was counting heads, biting his lip as soon as he’d registered, unsurprisingly, that they were short of one. He updated the managers and was greeted with cuss words and furious shouting. Hyukjae was nowhere to be seen.

“Donghae will take over,” Jisung said.

-

Donghae never saw Hyukjae ever again.

-

“Quit pretending to be okay,” Heechul said as he looked through the itinerary. Donghae’s wedding was due in a month, and for the past year, he’d seen him transition from being a miserable mess to okay, if okay meant putting on a facade and telling everyone he was fine when he really, really wasn’t. Everyone knew it, but no one dared to speak up. It wasn’t their place to say anything. Heechul, on the other hand, didn’t give a single . “I know you still think of him, even if he abandoned you after close to two decades of being friends for god knows why. He’s a selfish ing prick.”

Donghae sorted out a stack of papers nonchalantly. He was expressionless. Any other person would think he was simply listless, or that he wasn’t at all affected by Heechul’s accusations, but Heechul knew better. He’d literally seen the man grow up. He knew him like the back of his hand by now.

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me.” Heechul said, lowering his voice. “I know you’ve been wondering why he disappeared a lot lately. He was supposed to be your best man after all.”

“Hyung,” Donghae said, finally. “Can we not talk about this? Please? I’m already stressed out as it is. Talking about this won’t make things any better.”

“But what if,” Heechul began. “What if I manage to convince him to come back?”

Donghae paused. He put the papers down and sighed before finding Heechul’s gaze. He his lips and blinked his eyes rapidly which, Heechul had learnt by now, was a sign that he was about to cry.

“Don’t waste your time,” he whispered. “He’ll never come back. He left me without explaining himself and he never even told me why he was angry with me, or why he didn’t want me around him at all. Our friendship dilapidated and I couldn’t understand why. He probably felt like I didn’t deserve an explanation anyway.” Donghae’s eyes began to water. “So please, hyung, don’t.”

Heechul smiled. “What if I told you I know where to find him?” He watched as Donghae stared blankly, probably contemplating what to think or say next. “I’d be more than glad to return the title of being your best man back to him, Donghae. There’s a month left until your wedding. There’s still time, I promise.”

Donghae rested his elbows on the table and covered his face. As anticipated, he cracked and began to cry.

“I miss him so much, hyung.”

Patting his back, Heechul cooed, occasionally hushing him. He didn’t want anyone to hear the groom-to-be sobbing; he didn’t want anyone to think Donghae was regretting the idea of getting married, or something along those lines. Donghae’s fiance was in the next room after all.

“I know you miss him, Hae, and that’s exactly why I’ll make sure he comes back. You know I always keep my word, don’t you?”

Donghae’s sobbing had died down, but he was still covering his face, ashamed to show Heechul the state of it. “What if he rejects you, hyung? What if he’s still angry and tells you to forget about convincing him to come back?”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

Donghae began to whimper. “Hyung, I—”

“Don’t say anything.” Heechul deadpanned. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m finding him tomorrow and I’ll make sure to drag him by the hair if he dares to defy me.”

-

To be honest, Heechul was surprised he’d offered to help Donghae. It took too much effort, effort that he was almost unwilling to make, to find that absolute . For Donghae’s sake, however, he was willing to cross oceans. He couldn’t bear to see the man cry any longer. Donghae was getting married in a month and he should’ve been anxious and excited about it, but that had snatched the essence of Donghae’s soul and left him in the dust. Aside from being livid, Heechul was baffled—was he really the only one who had noticed how off Donghae had been for the past year, or did everyone collectively decide to turn a blind eye to it? He really wanted to know, or ask the other members, but he held back. It wasn’t his priority right now. What mattered most right now was helping Donghae. He continued his drive out of Seoul, constantly checking the GPS to make sure he was on the right track.

After a gruelling five hour-long drive, Heechul parked his car and stepped onto the gravel of the pathway ahead of him. He checked his phone, making sure he’d arrived at the address that had been sent to him. After he confirmed he was at the right place, he walked through the open gates of a small and humble grey terrace house and stopped at the door, rapping thrice. He knew there was someone home, considering he could see the lights through the frosted glass window in the center of the door. He waited for a while and continued to rap the door, growing impatient over the fact that no one was responding to his incessant knocking. He rapped the door three more times before he heard the sound of a lock sliding. The door opened.

“Seriously, hyung, I gave you a pair of house keys for a reason, you—”

“Surprise, Hyukjae.” Heechul greeted, grinning, but there was no affection nor happiness to his smile. “Missed me?”

“Oh, it’s you.” Hyukjae said sadly, hanging his head. “How did you find me? Teukie-hyung?”

Heechul kicked off his shoes and brushed past Hyukjae, making himself comfortable on the couch.

“Doesn’t matter, kid.” Heechul said, suppressing the desire to sock the young man in his face. “I’m here to tell you you’re in big trouble.”

Hyukjae sighed, closing the door. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

As soon as Hyukjae had left, Heechul stood up and began to snoop around the living room. The walls were painted maroon, and there were abstract paintings hanging from nails in the wall about a meter apart from each other. The television was mounted, and next to it was a framed up picture of Super Junior in their younger days; all thirteen members present and smiling at the camera during a simpler time. He never would’ve thought Hyukjae was the sentimental kind.

Heechul continued to pace around the room, looking at little ornaments Hyukjae had placed onto shelves and cabinet surfaces. He walked over to the fireplace and stopped. Lined up atop the fireplace was a series of framed photos of different sizes, each frame separated by different miscellaneous items. He glossed his eyes over the first photo and smiled; it was a picture of Hyukjae and his family, complete, each one of them grinning as they stood in front of a beautiful scenery that Heechul recognised as somewhere in Osaka. He moved on to the next photo, hands behind his back, and looked at a picture of Hyukjae, Yesung, Leeteuk and—Heechul now realised that it was, yet again, a picture of Super Junior. He chuckled at the recollection of what had happened before the picture was taken; someone had stepped on Hangeng’s foot and Hangeng, being the blunt man that he was, had cussed loudly in Korean. Everyone had looked at Heechul accusingly, sure that he was the one who had taught Hangeng swear words. They were bickering like children until the photographer warned them to shut up and pose.

Heechul walked over to the third photo frame, and as soon as he’d recognised the people in the picture, his glee wore away.

It was a picture of two boys who couldn’t be any older than twenty, sitting with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Their cheeks were pressed together, and the smiles on their faces were earnest and affectionate, wider than the sea. They looked like they were absolutely smitten with each other, or at least with their friendship. In the background, he could see the mirror of the practice room that he’d ever so frequently visited throughout the years. Heechul bit his lip. He moved on to the next photo and saw the same pair, this time lying on the grass, squinting their eyes as the sunlight shone on their faces. He kept moving on to the next photo, and the next, and the next…

“Donghae and Hyukjae, Donghae and Hyukjae, Donghae and Hyukjae—Jesus, how many of these does he have—Donghae and Hyukjae, Donghae and Hyukjae—”

“What are you doing?”

Heechul jumped, stumbling slightly and grabbing onto the fireplace for leverage, accidentally knocking over some of the frames. He rubbed his chest and exhaled. “Could you maybe not give me a heart attack like that, Hyukjae?”

Hyukjae walked over to the coffee table and set two mugs of hot chocolate down. He took a seat on an armchair and waited for Heechul to join him, to which Heechul, of course, complied. Heechul sat on the corner of the couch and reached out for his mug, taking a sip and grimacing a little when he realised he’d burnt his tongue. He returned his mug to the table and leaned into the backrest, never taking his eyes off the young man seated away from him.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Hyukjae. I’m ing mad that you—”

“Why are you here?” Hyukjae interrupted. There was no malice in his words, but for some reason, those words fired Heechul up.

“Why am I here?” Heechul echoed, laughing. “I’ll tell you why I’m here, Hyukjae, but I warn you; you’re not going to like it. I came all the way here because I—”

Just then, the jingling of keys resounded. Heechul paused, turning around to face the door whereas Hyukjae, on the other hand, remained unfazed. The door swung open.

“Hyukjae, I couldn’t find the ramyeon you wanted so I got you tteokbokki instead. I hope you don’t mind. If you do, then I could cook something up for you. Anything you’d like, really. I felt like cooking today anyway. I’m not fond of the way you’ve been eating so much processed food. You know it isn’t healthy, don’t you Hyukjae? And besides, I got some grocery-shopping done so I can stock up the fridge and—.”

“Yeah, . What the , hyung.” Heechul spat, fuming. “Explain why you’re here before I kill both of you.”

Leeteuk turned around and kicked the door shut before clumsily making his way to the kitchen. Hyukjae got up with the desire to help him, but Heechul shot him a glare that made him cower, staying put. They listened to the sounds of Leeteuk setting bags of groceries onto the dining table before he opened and slammed the door of the fridge shut. Not long after, he appeared, making his way to the couch. He sat down nervously, hugging the cushion that he had fished out from behind him. Hyukjae and Leeteuk exchanged glances; glances that Heechul had noticed and disliked. He took another sip of his hot chocolate and straightened up.

“So,” he began, “who’s going to start?”

Hyukjae stared at Leeteuk, glassy-eyed, shaking his head subtly. Leeteuk had no choice but to speak up.

“I know why you’re here.” He said emotionlessly. “But before you start berating Hyukjae, you need to hear us out first. I’m not gonna assume I know what you’ll be berating the two of us about, so I suggest you start by asking us questions first. And Heechul, if you hurt Hyukjae, I swear to g