Special Chapter

JUNMYEON

Junmyeon had been haunted by the ghost of his ex-fiancée ever since she turned down the diamond ring he’d offered her. Joohyun was still very much alive, but she haunted him still. Like a ghost breathing down his neck. Like a spirit that just won’t go into the light.

“I can’t marry you,” she’d said that night. “I’m sorry.”

And now, barely a year later, there she was, walking around the apartment that had been theirs as if she never left in the first place. Junmyeon still couldn’t believe it. He felt like he was watching an apparition, a phantom drifting around the place she once called home.

But Joohyun was real. She wasn’t a ghost, a spirit, an apparition, nor a phantom. Her face was bare but her cheeks were still flushed with the faintest amount of red, a sure sign that she was a living, breathing being.

And no matter how hard Junmyeon tried, he couldn’t kill the memories he had of her. There were far too many. Even the bad ones, the ones about how he’d spent sleeping on the cold couch while she slept on the bed were too precious for him to forget.

In a weird way, Joohyun and the memories he’d made with her made Junmyeon what he was today. And forgetting them would feel like forgetting himself. He didn’t want that.

Joohyun padded toward the kitchen. Of course, she still knew where the wine glasses were. It hadn’t been long since she moved out, just more or less ten months ago. Junmyeon didn’t have the time nor saw the need to rearrange anything. She had insisted, after all, that this was more his apartment than it ever was hers. That was why it had been so easy for her to leave.

“Want a glass?” Joohyun asked him while she poured herself one.

Junmyeon looked at her. He didn’t know why she was here, tonight of all nights, but if he wanted to find out, he knew he couldn’t do it sober. “Sure,” he said.

He sat down on one of the stools around the kitchen island while Joohyun grabbed another wine glass and filled it with about two inches of liquid the color of deep ruby. When that was done, Joohyun sat down with him.

She touched her glass to his, and the sound it made echoed throughout the apartment. Then they drank.

Junmyeon thought of what to say while the sweet red spiraled in his mouth. He didn’t have anything left to say to his ex-fiancée. He had accepted long ago the choices she made. To him, there was no point — not anymore, at least — in asking why she made those choices. It wouldn’t change a thing.

So instead, Junmyeon decided that it would be best to be straightforward. He and Joohyun hadn’t lied to each other in the seven long years they were together (at least as far as Junmyeon knew). They had no reason to start now.

“Hyunah,” Junmyeon began, the nickname feeling out of place as it rolled off his tongue, “why are you really here?”

Joohyun swirled the wine in her glass. She stared at the liquid as it swished, contemplating how to answer. Finally, she said, “Professor Byun called me. Asked me to check on you. I figured it was important since he wouldn’t call me in the middle of the night if it wasn’t.”

That old , Junmyeon thought to himself. The professor doted on him and Joohyun when they were doctoral candidates, said they made a fine couple. It didn’t surprise Junmyeon that Professor Byun would still play matchmaker even after all these years.

He admired the professor for his mentorship, but beyond that, he had no love for the man. Especially after the things Professor Byun’s own daughter had told Junmyeon. Not to mention what he’d witnessed at the professor’s house earlier tonight.

And if old man Byun still wanted to play matchmaker even after his daughter introduced Junmyeon to him and his entire family, the message it sent was crystal clear.

Professor Byun didn’t approve of his daughter and Junmyeon’s relationship.

“And you expect me to believe you drove all the way into the city because of a single phone call from a man we knew years ago?”

Joohyun pressed her lips together in a hard line. “I don’t live in Everman anymore,” she said, her voice low. “I moved back here about a month ago. Got an apartment in Roc Square. Minhyuk and I—”

“Don’t,” Junmyeon cut her off.

As much as he had moved on, as much as he didn’t hate Joohyun for leaving him, he still couldn’t stand to hear the name of the man that she’d chosen over him. He wouldn’t hear it. Not in this apartment. Not in the place where he and Joohyun used to share a bed.

Junmyeon was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. If Joohyun had moved back into the city on her own, it could only mean one thing: that relationship didn’t last long.

But Junmyeon didn’t want any part of it.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Joohyun asked. “That girl you came home with. She has her father’s eyes. I almost thought it was Professor Byun staring at me.”

Apparently, Joohyun wasn’t stupid, either.

“What does it matter to you?”

“Isn’t she a bit young for you?”

Something snapped inside Junmyeon when he heard that. “Excuse me?” He scoffed. “I’m not taking relationship advice from you, of all people. And, if you must know, she’s twenty-three.”

“A child,” Joohyun insisted. “You’re… what? A decade older than her?”

Anger flared in Junmyeon’s chest. He downed the rest of his wine in one clean swig and set his empty glass on the marble counter. “You’ve checked on me, just as Professor Byun has asked. And, as you can see, I’m fine. Now, I’d like you to leave my apartment.”

That was harsh, to emphasize this place was his, but Junmyeon didn’t care. He didn’t resent Joohyun for what she did ten months ago. To hear her insult someone who made him happy, someone who filled the void she left, was a different matter altogether.

Joohyun didn’t stand from her seat. “She was your student, wasn’t she?” Her tone wasn’t even accusatory. It was almost sad, like she actually felt sorry that Junmyeon found himself in such a situation.

“That’s none of your business.”

But that was enough to answer her question.

“I heard you left the university,” Joohyun said. Fired, Junmyeon corrected her in his mind. “Is it because of her?” Junmyeon didn’t move; he didn’t say or do anything. He wasn’t going to respond to a question that she already knew the answer to. “You risked your job for her. You risked your entire career for her. You love her that much?”

“I do.”

“And what about her? Does she love you?”

Junmyeon’s throat tightened. He thought about the silence that ensued after Mrs. Byun said to her daughter, “You must really love him.” That silence hadn’t lasted long, but it had been long enough for Junmyeon to understand what it meant.

When he didn’t reply, Joohyun asked a different question. “Do you know why I left?”

“No,” Junmyeon answered. “And, quite frankly, I don’t care. Not anymore. I’ve moved past all that. I’m happy now.”

But Joohyun explained anyway. “Every year, on March 15th, you go to that children’s home on Willoughby. Casa de Esperanza. You brought me there last year.”

Memories from that day flooded Junmyeon’s mind. The smiles. The laughter. It almost hurt thinking about it now.

Joohyun continued. “I knew why you kept coming back there. You told me yourself. It was more than giving back to the place where you spent ten years of your life wishing for a family. You wanted to be there for the children. Always the children. You tried your best to make them feel a little less lonely. And I loved you for it.”

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left.”

“I loved you, Jun. I did.” Joohyun’s lips tugged downward. “But you always talked about starting a family. Having kids… I knew that’s what you wanted most in the world. The way you looked at the children at Esperanza… If you could love them like that, how much more if they were your own? You’d give them the world. But I wasn’t ready to give you that. Not then, not when I was at the peak of my career. But I understand now. I do.”

Those last three sentences echoed in Junmyeon’s mind.

“Not then. But I understand now. I do.”

Tears welled up in Junmyeon’s eyes.

He rarely cried. Especially in front of Joohyun. But he couldn’t stop the tears now. This was all too much, even for him who always knew how to keep his emotions in check.

But these weren’t tears of joy. No. His chest burned. He wanted to take his empty wine glass from the marble counter and smash it into a million tiny pieces against the wall.

“Who do you think you are?” he spat, blinking away tears. “What made you think that you can just waltz back into my life as if nothing happened? As if telling me you want children now makes it all okay, and we’d ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after? I forgave you, Hyunah. Whatever your reasons were, I respected them and I left you alone because I thought that was what made you happy!”

Junmyeon was screaming now, but he didn’t care, not even when Joohyun flinched in her seat.

Junmyeon took a deep breath. He turned around, ran his fingers through his hair, and tugged at the strands until it hurt his scalp.

“Jun—”

“No,” he interrupted her, turning back to look her in the eye. “Stop. Just stop. I don't know what made you come here, if it’s some sick and twisted nostalgia about us that you felt when you answered Professor Byun’s call, but whatever it is, please — leave me out of it. I’m happy. I’m trying so hard to be. And you coming here and saying all of that… It’s just hurting me.”

Joohyun was quiet for a moment. Her eyes shook, but no tears fell from them. “I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Junmyeon wasn’t sure what she was apologizing about. Was it for leaving him? For upsetting him tonight? He had no idea.

All he knew was they were way past apologies.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” said Junmyeon.

“I thought… I just wanted to…” Joohyun stammered, “I just wanted to explain. Why I did the things I did. Why I wasn’t ready to marry you and have a family with you.”

Incredulous laughter climbed out of Junmyeon’s throat. “And now… what? You think I’d care? You think I’ll drop everything for you just because you’re ready now?” he asked. “No. You can’t expect people to wait on you after you’ve left them. That’s not a reasonable thing to ask of them. It’s unfair. It’s… it’s cruel.” Junmyeon grabbed his coat from the stool. He couldn’t stomach any more of the conversation. “If you’re not going to leave, I am,” he said with finality. “Clean up after yourself.”

He was inches away from the door when Joohyun’s cold voice stopped him.

“And what if she can’t give you what you want as well?” his ex-fiancée asked. “What if she isn’t ready the same way I wasn’t? What if she’ll never be ready? What then?”

Junmyeon didn’t respond. How could he, when he didn’t know the answer?

So instead, he let the question linger in the air as he opened the door and stormed out of his apartment.

***

Junmyeon had never been a beer kind of guy, but he didn’t have a choice this time around since all Siwon had in his fridge was Heineken.

As he swallowed the bitter liquid, he thought about what Joohyun said when he walked out of his apartment: What if she isn’t ready the same way I wasn’t? What if she’ll never be ready? What then?

Junmyeon would be lying if he said — even just to himself — that he hadn’t thought about that. He had this bad habit of always thinking about the long run. He knew that he just got into this relationship and that he should just live in the moment, but still… He just couldn’t help himself. For the longest time, having a family to call his own had always been at the top of his rather short list of dreams.

He didn’t know why that was. He wasn’t sure if it had something to do with him losing his birth parents at such a young age. All he knew was that was what he wanted.

“Siwon, do you… Do you ever feel like you’re running out of time?”

Siwon laughed nervously. “Dude, you’re saying that like you’re dying.”

“It’s not that,” Junmyeon said. He knew that his friend was just joking to make him feel better, but he couldn’t bring himself to crack even the smallest of smiles. “I mean… Like there’s still so much you wanna do but life’s going too fast.”

This time, Siwon didn’t attempt to make light of the question. He pursed his lips and thought about it carefully. After a few moments, he sighed. “Yeah, man,” he answered. His voice is heavy with longing and regret. “I get what you mean.”

Junmyeon took a swig of his beer again. The drink didn’t go down as smoothly as it usually did.

“Any particular reason you’re asking?”

Junmyeon met his friend’s eyes. “Hyunah came to see me.”

“. After…”

“After the kid and I had dinner at her parents’ house, yes,” Junmyeon finished for him.

Siwon surveyed him carefully. “Well, what did she have to say?”

Junmyeon considered lying, to say that whatever his ex-fiancée had to say was nothing of importance to him, but he also knew that Siwon would see right through it. Besides, he came here, didn’t he? To seek his best friend’s help? What good would it do him if he weren’t to be truthful?

“Apparently, she’s single again.”

Siwon scoffed. “And what’s that got to do with you?”

“I asked her the exact same thing,” Junmyeon said. “I told her she had some nerve, showing up like that after all that’s happened and expecting me to throw a homecoming party for her.”

“But…?”

Junmyeon sighed. “But… She said other things. Things that might’ve made me the happiest man on Earth a few months ago. Now I’m just… I’m just confused.”

“Why? What did she say?”

It took a while for Junmyeon to answer. He stared at the beads of water condensing on the surface of his beer bottle as they slid down the glass.

“That’s she’s ready now. That she’s made a mistake and she understands that now.”

“What a monster.”

Junmyeon couldn’t bring himself to agree — nor disagree. He didn’t know what to make of Joohyun now. All he knew was that ship had already sailed the moment she left him.

“Wait,” Siwon suddenly said. “Don’t tell me that… Did the kid’s dad have something to do with this? Didn’t you just tell me that he was your dissertation adviser? The one that…”

“The one who always told Hyunah and me to get married right after we got our PhDs, yes,” he confirmed.

Siwon let out a cold laugh. “Dinner went that horribly, huh?”

“On the contrary, I thought — at the time — that he liked me,” Junmyeon said. “Well, at least I know the truth now.”

“But that isn’t what’s bothering you, is it?”

“God, no,” Junmyeon replied. He knew better than to let a cruel old man decide what was and wasn’t good enough for his daughter, especially after years and years of emotional abuse she’d suffered under him. But Siwon didn’t need to know all of that.

“It’s Hyunah, then.”

Junmyeon nodded. “She asked me what I’ll do if the kid isn’t ready for us to take it all the way.”

“Marriage?” Siwon asked incredulously. “She’s twenty-three, Myeon. Kid just finished college. This isn’t the twentieth century. It’s too soon to think about that. There’s a reason why I call her kid.”

“She doesn’t like being called that, you know,” Junmyeon said. “She feels like she’s being infantilized.”

“I’m not infantilizing her,” Siwon explained. “I’m just saying that there’s no need to rush her about something as serious as marriage. She’s barely an adult.”

“Yes, I know that.” Junmyeon heaved a deep sigh. So far, Siwon was doing a fantastic job of being the voice of reason, even if it stung a little. “It’s not like I’m going to get down on one knee and whip out a Tiffany box for her any time soon.”

“And yet you’re already thinking of that part of your relationship.”

Junmyeon pursed his lips. “I’m not getting any younger, Siwon. We’re not getting any younger. That’s why I asked if you ever feel like you’re running out of time.”

“I understand,” Siwon said. “But the kid… She still has her whole life ahead of her. You may be ready to settle down, but you have to be ready for the possibility that she isn’t.”

Junmyeon finished his beer. It had gone quite warm, so it tasted much, much bitter.

Or perhaps it was the truth he was tasting, the unforgiving reality that there are some dreams in which he wasn’t the only one who had a say.

“It’s entirely different from your relationship with Hyunah,” Siwon assured him, “so don’t listen to that monster.”

Junmyeon arched his brows. “How so?”

“Because this time, you know that would happen if you don’t manage your expectations,” his best friend answered. “That’s the great thing about failed relationships: you get to learn from them.”

For the first time since his encounter with his ex-fiancée, Junmyeon allowed himself to smile.

* * *

Junmyeon’s fingers were trembling as he lit his first cigarette in nearly eight years.

There were a lot of things that Joohyun took away from him, but perhaps the only one he was grateful for was that she influenced him to stop his nasty habit of smoking.

“Those things will kill you,” Joohyun had told him first year into their relationship, and the only reason Junmyeon took her words seriously was because she saw first-hand how murderous cigarettes can be. “When my father and sister were in their last days, the only time they weren’t coughing and spitting out blood was when they were asleep.”

That effectively scared the wits out of Junmyeon. At least for a little while.

Alas, he was a writer, and he was one of those writers who felt like they couldn’t write unless there was nicotine pumping in their bloodstream.

Eventually, he got himself to gradually stop smoking — mostly thanks to Joohyun’s incessant pleas to quit.

But Joohyun wasn’t here to stop him now.

He took a drag of the cancer stick, the now unfamiliar taste of tobacco burning his tongue and throat and nearly sending him coughing. But his smoker’s lungs prevailed, even after eight years of breathing clean.

Siwon didn’t like him smoking either. This was why he had to walk to the nearest convenience store to buy and smoke a pack.

Incidentally, it was the same convenience store he found the kid that night, drunk, on the verge of tears, and with no way home.

That feels like a lifetime ago, Junmyeon thought to himself.

Jamming his left hand into his pocket, he smoked with his right hand from muscle memory as he watched people walk past him on the sidewalk.

He was halfway through his second cigarette when he noticed a young man with strawberry blonde hair staring at him. The stranger smoked the same kind of cigarette as him.

Junmyeon didn’t usually make conversation with weirdos staring at him on the street, but his veins were pumping with beer and his mouth opened before he could stop himself. “Can I help you?”

The corner of the young man’s lips curled into an irreverent smile. “Mr. Kim.”

Junmyeon looked at the stranger a little closer and an odd wave of familiarity washed over him. When he finally realized where he had heard the young man’s voice before, he stood a little straighter.

“There’s no need for honorifics,” Junmyeon said. “We’re not on campus. And you never were my student.”

Chanyeol nodded as he finished his cigarette and reached out for another one.

“How is she?”

Junmyeon’s jaw clenched. Even though Chanyeol mentioned no name, Junmyeon understood clearly who he meant.

“She’s fine,” was all Junmyeon said. He wanted to say something along the lines of: What makes you think you have the right to ask that? But he wasn’t in the mood to bicker with a college kid, even if the alcohol in his body badly wanted to pick a fight.

“I heard you have already met Mr. and Mrs. Byun,” Chanyeol said with yet another smug smile, “and the brother and the sister-in-law, too.” When Junmyeon threw him a confused look, Chanyeol simply said, “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’m still friends with her friends, too, you know.”

“Kyungsoo and Jihyun.”

“Right.” Chanyeol flung his burnt out cigarette onto the pavement and then stepped on it. “I talked to her once, too. She said we could be friends again.”

At that point, Junmyeon knew what Chanyeol’s game was.

Chanyeol could’ve just left him alone and let him smoke in peace, and yet here he was, rubbing it into Junmyeon’s face — albeit indirectly — that he was his girlfriend’s first love.

No, Junmyeon told himself. Chanyeol isn’t here to just strike a harmless conversation. He’s here to push all my buttons.

“Did she now?” Junmyeon asked, his voice dripping with indifference.

But Chanyeol wasn’t fazed. Not one bit. “Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

“And what do you want me to do with that information?”

Chanyeol inched closer. He approached Junmyeon until he was only at arm’s length, smirking as if he knew something that Junmyeon didn’t.

Junmyeon was a couple of inches smaller than Chanyeol, so he had to look up slightly, but he didn’t allow himself to feel small. Not here, not now, and especially not to Chanyeol.

“I’m just saying,” Chanyeol began, “that you need to be ready when she finally grows tired of you and then comes back to me. Because I am. I’m ready.”

Junmyeon’s blood was boiling now. But he had to be the bigger person. Someone had to be the mature one, and Chanyeol didn’t seem keen on taking on that role any time soon.

So Junmyeon kept his cool, even if he desperately wanted to introduce his knuckles to Chanyeol’s face.

“And how are you so sure that’s gonna happen?”

“Because you’re not good for her. And it won’t take long before she finally realizes that.”

Junmyeon couldn’t help but scoff. “And you honestly think that you’re any better than I am? She suffered so much because of you. She gave you everything and you couldn’t even give her the courtesy of labeling whatever ed up relationship the two of you had.”

A look of hurt flashed in Chanyeol’s eyes, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it came. “I’ve made my peace with her. And I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.”

“You still love her.”

“I do.”

“You always have,” Junmyeon deduced, “and yer you let her go because… What? You’re a coward?”

Junmyeon really hoped that would tick Chanyeol off, but Chanyeol still didn’t buckle.

“Don’t you have other problems to worry about instead of fixating on mine?”

A chill ran through Junmyeon’s spine. “What do you mean?”

Chanyeol’s lips twitched into a sick smile. “Don’t you have a new job to find? After getting sacked from the University for being a predator?”

Before he knew it, Junmyeon’s hands flew to the neckline of Chanyeol’s shirt, the fabric crumpling in his fists.

“What did you say?”

Chanyeol let out a cold, venomous laugh. “Did you like the photo I slipped into Dr. Lee’s office? Not my best work, but it did do the trick.”

“It was you,” Junmyeon whispered in realization. His grip loosened on Chanyeol’s shirt.

“You said it yourself. I love her. And I’ll do anything to get her back.”

Junmyeon sent him a look so sharp it would have sliced him open. “And how exactly does ruining my career and nearly costing her future help you with that?”

“I always knew who her dad was. I knew she would get nothing more than a slap on the wrist with that photo,” Chanyeol explained. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I was trying to hurt you.”

“Well, it’s not enough.”

“Oh, I know,” Chanyeol said with such calmness that it threw Junmyeon off. “I wasn’t done yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think will happen if that photo finds its way to her dad?”

Junmyeon’s ears rang with anger. His vision went black, and the next thing he knew, his hand had crumpled into a fist and hit something so hard that he heard a crack.

When he saw clearly again, Chanyeol was on the asphalt, nursing a broken, bleeding nose and a busted lip and was spitting blood.

After Chanyeol recovered from the shock, he stood up and returned the favor to Junmyeon.

To be continued . . .