Donghae had just finished his post-workout shower when his phone pinged, signaling a new message. Plopping down on his bed, he grabbed the device and checked who the text was from. It was Jongwoon, his Hyung and fellow photographer, asking him for a favor.

[aesong]: hey, donghae. are you booked today?

[me]: nope. the client canceled a week ago

[aesong]: oh great. Can you cover for me?

[aesong]: my migraine is starting to kill me

[me]: you still went to work with a migraine?

[aesong]: yeah. this has been booked for a year. I dont want to just cancel

[aesong]: so can you do it?

[me]: yeah sure. Have you told your clients though?

[aesong]: yep. it’s all good

[me]: alright, alright

[me]: send me the address

[aesong]: YES THANK YOU

[aesong]: (address)

[aesong]: don’t worry, it’s the reception already. You get free food and 40% of the pay

[me]: sweet. I’ll be there in 30

[aesong]: drive safe!

-

By the time Donghae arrived at the reception, Jongwoon just had to introduce him to the newlyweds and explain what he would be doing. Luckily, they have placed their full trust in him after checking his well-maintained Instagram page.

Once everything was set, Donghae got to work. He fixed his cameras with practiced ease, double-checking backup SD cards, lenses, and film rolls—the clients were delighted to know that he also offers film photography in his services.

Looking around the reception, he thanked his lucky stars that it was a big garden wedding. In his years as a freelance photographer, Donghae has had his fair share of wedding photography gigs. Korean weddings were nearly always held at traditional wedding halls or at hotels, but he has always preferred outdoor ceremonies. He has always favored the presence of natural light in his work.

Finally locking in the lens for his main camera, he raised the gadget and stared straight into the viewfinder. He aimed it at random directions, snapping a few test shots, and almost gasped in surprise at what he saw.

Or rather, who he saw.

“Lee Hyukjae?” Donghae breathed in disbelief, placing his camera down as he watched his ex-boyfriend chat animatedly with one of the guests.

He was not able to stop his thoughts from wandering to the last time he heard from the man. The memory of it still as painful as it was years ago.

-

“You’re really going?” Hyukjae’s voice greeted through the static.

Inhaling sharply, Donghae’s hand clenched tightly around the phone, finding a way to ground himself. He sat down on their — his. It’s only his now — bed, suddenly feeling like his knees would give in at any moment.

“Yes,” he murmured, trying his best to sound sure, confident.

“I can’t stop you now, can I?”

Donghae winced at Hyukjae’s defeated tone. He knew Hyukjae must be in tears on the other line and there wasn’t anything Donghae wanted more than to take him into his arms and tell him that it will be alright.

They will be alright.

But, oh, who was he kidding?

It was the end of an era for them. Another chapter had finished, onto the next one. This time, the other would not be present.

“I’m sorry, Hyuk,” Donghae croaked, his eyes landing on the passport and plane ticket sitting atop the nightstand then onto the still open suitcases on the floor.

“I’m sorry too, Hae,” his now ex-boyfriend whispered brokenly.

The call ended far too soon.

Their story ended just like that.

So Donghae let his emotions get the best of him. His eyes were hurting so much from crying for the past few days but he can’t bottle it any longer. So he allowed the tears to freely pour down his face, not moving an inch to wipe them away. Loud, heart-wrenching sobs racked his frame.

But it was not enough.

The tears, the apologies left unsaid, the screams that abused his throat raw—they were only small compensations for the stabbing pain he was feeling inside.

-

A guest jostled him awake from his unpleasant trip down memory lane. Acknowledging the mumbled apology absentmindedly, Donghae cleared his throat and hurriedly blinked away the tears that threatened to escape his eyes.

His breath hitched in his throat when he saw Hyukjae staring directly at him, a similar expression of surprise and disbelief painted on his face. The person he was with was still talking to him, but Hyukjae’s attention was now focused solely on Donghae.

He gulped nervously, breathing in shakily as he abruptly looked away and busied himself with his work. He walked away from his spot, fully intending to do what he came for and hopefully avoid his ex-boyfriend as much as he could.

-

He was not usually a drinker. In fact, he hated alcohol. However, Donghae had never felt more grateful to whoever invented open bars. Sure, he does not drink but desperate times call for desperate measures, and Donghae needs liquid courage right now.

He asked for whiskey on the rocks. Not his usual go-to. Drinking it makes him feel pretentious, a middle-aged man with an alcohol problem, or embarrassingly drunk. But it was the first thing that came to his mind when he hastily called the bartender. With his frazzled nerves right now, he could definitely handle at least a finger of the bitter beverage.

In a desperate attempt to distract himself, Donghae clicked through the photos he took, nodding in satisfaction when he deemed the photos enough for him to take a short break. A tiny voice inside his head kept goading him to talk to Hyukjae before he could leave the event but Donghae tried to ignore it. Hyukjae might have seen him but that does not mean the man wants to talk to him.

Feeling more restless by the second, Donghae turned to grab the glass from the counter and drank the liquor in one go, wincing at the bitterness and burn in his throat. He was trying to swallow the rest of it when he heard a familiar voice behind him, almost making him choke in shock.

“Last time I checked, you hated whiskey,” none other than Lee Hyukjae greeted, tone amused.

A slight smile was playing on his lips and Donghae noted how the years were definitely kind to him. Hyukjae looked more mature, manlier; years of experience evident in his face with the laugh lines on the corner of his eyes and the presence of tired bags underneath it as proof of what must be busy sleepless nights. Although his kind almond eyes lost its signature hint of mischief and the almost always present sly smirk on his lips were long gone, the two main features that Donghae recalled admiring for hours upon hours back then remained the same—a gaze that radiates warmth and comfort, a smile that’s genuine and inviting.

This Hyukjae in front of him was different but still all the same. So foreign yet so familiar. 

Donghae’s gaze caught the pink bottle on Hyukjae’s hand, chuckling softly, “A wine cooler? You’ve gotten old and boring already?” he teased light-heartedly despite the hammering in his chest.

They’re already bickering. They have always bickered.

It was Donghae&Hyukjae’s brand.

Perhaps this was not all too bad.

But instead of responding back, Hyukjae simply shrugged, grinning slightly as he finally stood beside Donghae with a rather lengthy distance between them.

For a second, a tense silence enveloped them; eyes looking everywhere but at each other. None of them knew the right things to say. After all, it has been more than ten years since they last spoke and they both remember how that ended.

“So—”

“You look well.”

The two burst into light laughter, shaking their heads in amusement.

Finally, their eyes met and Donghae felt his heart thump wildly within as he recognized the fondness in Hyukjae’s gaze.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“This is awkward,” Donghae muttered.

Fortunately, Hyukjae nodded in agreement, his signature wide, gummy smile now present on his handsome face.

It was amazing how much that smile still affected Donghae. As though they were back in high school and sophomore student Lee Donghae was absolutely smitten for the gorgeous dancer and his boyish smirk which he would later discover could turn into the most adorable, gummy-filled smile he would ever see.

“You look well too, Donghae,” Hyukjae spoke quietly, staring intently at him and Donghae tried with all his might not to blush visibly, although he could feel the heat already creeping up his neck.

. He’s still just as in love with Hyukjae as he was when he first laid eyes on him all those years ago.

Honestly? It’s a little pathetic.

“How have you been? I-we haven’t heard from you since—” since I left. Since we ended things. Since I said no.

Hyukjae hummed, looking away for a moment. “I’ve been well,” the older man met his eyes, an unreadable expression on his face.

Donghae used to read him like an open book. It really has been a while.

“I lost contact with everyone since—” since you left. Since you ended things. Since you said no.

“Ah,” Donghae nodded in understanding, shifting his weight from one foot to another uneasily.

Perhaps he should have rehearsed for this?

“I see all your hard work paid off,” Hyukjae gestured at Donghae’s camera, “I saw your works on Instagram. You’re really good.”

He expected some sort of bitterness in Hyukjae’s tone, maybe even a semblance of animosity. But there were none. Only good-natured pride and sincere praise.

“I’m proud of you. Truly.”

Donghae smiled gratefully at the man.

A tiny blossom of hope bloomed in his chest that maybe — just maybe.

“Thank you, Hyuk.”

-

After their short (and awkward) conversation, Donghae had to leave and finish his work for the rest of the day. But Hyukjae promised that he would still be there, waiting for him.

So Donghae went on with his job, a giddy feeling in his chest that he could not shake off even when the small, rational voice at the back of his mind mocked him for such delusional assumptions. He was not even sure if Hyukjae still has feelings for him. Who knows, maybe he was just being nice to his ex. The same person who broke his heart into pieces all those years ago.

Just as he promised, Hyukjae was waiting for him at a table near the open bar when Donghae finally finished taking photos after an hour. He was done for the day and the newlyweds gladfully instructed him to unwind after praising his work with much enthusiasm, promising to recommend him to their friends.

He sat down beside Hyukjae with a plate of food, smiling at the man in greeting before digging in. Hyukjae was also savoring his own slice of cake. Save for the clinking of their cutlery and occasional comments about the food, they descended into a companionable silence.

It was nice.

It was familiar.

“How come I didn’t see you at the ceremony earlier?” Hyukjae asked as soon as they finished eating, taking a sip of water.

Donghae cleared his throat, wiping his mouth before he answered.

“Uh, yeah. It’s funny, actually. I wasn’t supposed to be here,” he replied with a slight grin. “The original photographer’s my friend. He asked me to cover for him because he’s got a migraine and I didn’t have any shoots booked today anyway so I thought, why not?” he shrugged, meeting Hyukjae’s gaze, “I didn’t expect to see you here though.”

Chuckling lightly, Hyukjae nodded in the direction of the newlywed couple, “We set them up.”

“We?”

It was a rather simple question. But the way Hyukjae froze and stared at him, as though hesitating to answer, confused him.

Something flickered through Hyukjae’s eyes and for a moment, Donghae thought it was sadness, hurt — regret even. But it was gone just as quickly as it came. He could not bring himself to ask Hyukjae what was wrong; he felt out of place to feel concerned.

Hyukjae answered him anyway.

And Donghae wished he didn’t.

“My wife and I.”

Hyukjae cleared his throat. His eyes left Donghae’s, focusing on the empty plate before him as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Donghae could not even begin to describe what he felt then.

It was like a bucket of icy water dumped on him, waking him from his delusions.

Or worse, he felt as though he dived in headfirst from a steep cliff, down into the freezing ocean; the harsh, biting cold seeping into his bones, shocking him awake from his daydream. The relentless waves threw him around the unforgiving body of water; just when he found the chance to rise out, hoping to take a breath, a familiar pair of hands held him down — keeping his head underwater. Air slowly dissipated from his lungs as water filled it in and he was drowning and thrashing…

And drowning…

…and drowning…

“I didn’t know you got married,” Donghae managed to say, adjusting his collar to give himself some room to breathe.

“Yes, well. No contact, remember?”

“Social media exists, Hyukjae,” he retaliated rather harshly.

There was a tiny feeling of satisfaction in him when he saw that it caught the older off-guard.

Hyukjae remained quiet for a minute, eyeing him warily.

“I’m sorry. That was-I-I’m sorry,” Donghae was the first to break.

“I know.”

“What?”

“I know. That social media exists,” Hyukjae answered lamely, his lips as a nervous habit, “My wife, she-she follows you on Instagram—”

“She doesn’t know, does she? About me?”

“About us?” Hyukjae brazenly reiterated, his piercing gaze pinned on Donghae.

“No. I never mentioned it to her.”

“Why?”

Silence.

Hyukjae merely stared at him, his jaw clenched. Donghae could almost hear the cogs in his mind moving.