Eight.
Aftermath

~ · ~ · ~

Minseok sits me down with a cup of tea between my hands. There’s red all over me — on my sweatshirt, my slippers, and feet. They’re dry and I can’t wipe them off if I try. I have no reason to. This red is my proof. It is my reality and unfortunately, Baekhyun’s as well.

“Will he be okay?” I hear it but it isn’t from me. It’s Minseok, asking questions I am afraid to ask. This is the third after “what happened” and “is this real”. He continues to walk around me, fixing stuff I didn’t think needs fixing. I can only watch him go around before he finally sits across me and looks me in the eyes. “You’re holding it all in,” he says and I just watch him stare back at me. When I look down, my tea is on the floor, spilling cold. “You’re not letting yourself feel it,” he adds. “And I can only do so much.”

The longer I stare down, the darker it gets. It’s like the lights around me dim and it’s harder to breathe because I see him whenever I close my eyes. Him on that banister. Him sitting, asking, questioning me and my loyalty. Questioning how I feel and the friendships we share in between. And then for the first time in my existence, I felt tears on my cheeks. They’re real. These tears are my proof. They’re my reality and unfortunately, not Baekhyun’s.

“Kyungsoo?” I hear Minseok but the darkness engulfs me that the last bit of light leaves me. “Kyungsoo…” he says, but the chaos starts rushing in — a silent course that’s supposed to bleed red and blue. But all I see are sheets all around, and the silence that surrounds me as I hold Baekhyun in my arms. “Kyungsoo, we need to get you out of here,” I hear Minseok say and then I look up. He’s guiding me up as people in white start dragging Baekhyun away from me and onto a stretcher.

He’s moving — Baekhyun. I see that he is and I know he will make it but I am not sure if he will if I won’t be here for him. “Take me,” I tell Minseok and he shakes his head at me.

“You can’t do that,” he tells me, hands on either side of my face. “This isn’t how the process goes. You’re not supposed to do this.”

“I don’t care,” I say, begging almost. “I can’t just let him go. You have to let me, please. I promised him I will save him. I did.”

“Kyungsoo, you don’t know what you’re saying.” He drags me away from everyone as he talks as if it will change my mind. “You’re not going to save his life. He killed himself. He did it himself. This isn’t how it works.”

“But he’s still alive. There’s life left in him and I promised him to give the rest of mine.”

“Something you shouldn’t have.”

“But I want to save him!”

“You can’t!” Minseok screams — the first time I hear him do so. But he’s not mad I know because his eyes are glassy and his lips are quivering. If it’s fear, I wouldn’t know. “You can’t save him. No one can. He did this to himself.”

“No.” I shake my head. “The world did this to him,” I say. “They did.”

Then Minseok stops in his tracks and sits me on his couch. “I will follow protocols.” There’s a strain in his voice, a sniffle hiding in between. “I will do as I’m told and that alone.”

“No, you won’t,” I say. “Baekhyun is still alive and we have to save him. I have to save him.”

“Kyungsoo, listen to me.”

“No,” I say sternly. “You listen to me. This place saved you from a purposeless existence. If it could save you somehow, if it can save me somehow, then it sure as hell can save Baekhyun somehow.”

The silence begins to fill us both then he hands me a cup of tea. “Kyungsoo, I am going to follow the protocols. I will do as I’m told.”

Minseok paces around the room and grabs a pen and paper from his desk before sitting across from me.

“What happened?” he begins as he writes down, “There’s one thing I can do.”

“Is this real?” he continues. “But it could be the end of you and the end of me.”

“Either way, we’re going to save him.” Our eyes meet and he asks me. “Will he be okay?” The tears start falling from my eyes as he continues. “You’re holding it all in.”

The tea starts spilling from my hands and he drops the paper, landing right where the little puddle is. The letters end up smudged and the tears continue to fall. “You’re not letting yourself feel it,” Minseok goes on and nods. “And I can only do so much.”

~ · ~ · ~

It sounds simple when Minseok explains it. A wall divides the donor and the donee and a machine connect both rooms. Turn it on the process begins. An hour at the least, depending on how much life you’re left with and how much there is to give away. The thing about the process is that life will always spill away somewhere. Take away four to five years from what you’ll expect to receive and you’re good as new. Some patients don’t wake up immediately. A week in what appears to be a coma is nothing new to facilitators. Doctors will closely monitor the patient and when they wake up, a few physical exams will determine the new life expectancy of the donee.

What you see is what you get — life given and then, taken.

I have no fear of this process. Not because I am here to do it for someone else but because I know this is where we will all end up anyway. What difference does it make to the machine they hook you up with when they drain your blood, fill you with formalin, and then parade for the world to see? What difference does it make from burning your body until you turn into little remnants of regret? I see no difference at all. This is swift, painless, and even heroic.

I am saving someone’s life and I am doing it not only because I promised to but because through this man I learned the true value of life. Mine, nothing. His, a ton. I can’t imagine a world without him but I can imagine a world without me. This is the life I live and this is the future I see. Whatever I do today will only be the actualization of the world as it should be — devoid of my sadness and filled with his brightness. Baekhyun is light and the world will never be able to live without him.

The plan is for Minseok to wheel Baekhyun’s body from the infirmary to the room. When I’m in and Baekhyun’s in, it will be a quick ride to limbo for me and a speedy recovery for Baekhyun. The doors will then be locked. “No life can leak beyond the rooms,” Minseok says. Until the process is over, we’re stuck in the rooms, connected someway, somehow.

I will never see him again, though. I can’t. Even if I want to, I have to be under before he comes.

“We have to make sure you’re under or we can risk hurting you through the process,” Minseok explains but I don’t fear pain. I fear waking up and learning we did it all wrong.

So, now, I lay on a bed. Limbs strapped and eyes shut, I can only remember the face he made when I tell him I’ll save him. I can only see the light coming out of him. No, I don’t even remember the blood but the light that he is. Baekhyun, if I can take one final look at you before I go, I would bask in your brilliance and die a happy man.

In my years of existence, I know this much: Baekhyun is a brother I will always remember even when my world turns dark. His memories will carry me through the limbo until we meet again.

Minseok puts his hand over my head and tells me, “It’s going to be okay.” And that’s the last thing I heard before I hear the doors of my room lock. It feels heavy as the sedative digs on me. And then the world turns bleak before I slip into a dream I could never escape from.