Based off Taylor Swift's Never Grow Up.

PART ONE JUST BECAUSE.

“Appa?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Will you sing me a lullaby?”

“Darling, you’ll end up staying awake through the whole song and forget to sleep! You don’t want me to tell Auntie how bad of a girl you’ve been, right?”

“But Appa! Pretty please?”

“… Okay, baby. Now tuck in and lie down.”

--

Your little hands wrapped around my finger,
And it’s so quiet in the world tonight.
You’re little eyelids flutter ‘cause you’re dreaming,
So I tuck you in, turn on your favourite nightlight.

--

One upon a time, in a land far away, two boys could be seen running around the expanse of a Fairly-Empty Park, capes on their backs and their boots stomping against the dirt. They squealed like the children they were, hands filled with sand, ready to aim it at each other. Their bodies were a blur from their mothers’ view point, since all they could do at that moment was sprint around with their short little legs.

The boys’ mothers watched as the kids finally stopped chasing each other and plop onto the picnic mat, chests heaving up-and-down as they try to replenish their lack of oxygen. The mothers passed two juice boxes towards the children, and watched with loving gazes as they sipped the tiny straw eagerly. The smaller of the two started giggling; pointing with his little finger towards the other’s chin, trying to tell him that apple juice had dripped down the corners of his lips. The taller merely grinned, puckering his lips before throwing his bigger 3-year-old body onto the smaller boy. They rolled around on the soft grass, one trying to kiss the other.

Their mothers merely chuckled, amused by the innocent children’s actions. They adored at how the boys could have such a loving relationship at such a young age, and how they were confident with everything towards each other. It was indeed a mystery, but they couldn’t care less.

The children were happy, and so were they.

--

You're in the car on the way to the movies
And you're mortified your mom's dropping you off
At 14, there's just so much you can't do
And you can't wait to move out someday and call your own shots

--

Time passed. The trees gradually changed throughout the seasons, snow flittered down every year, school bells rang to remind the students the start of summer, orange and yellow leaves crunched under the children's boots as fall came.

As time ticked away, the boys aged. They grew older, studied through Elementary School and worked hard through Junior High. They lost their baby fat, replaced with the taut muscles they've gained from joining the soccer team. Their heights changed dramatically, but the smaller of the two was still a few inches shorter than the other.

The two boys spent almost all their free time together. They would visit each other’s houses to study, go to the shopping complex together, and even walked hand-in-hand when going to and coming back from school. They were different, but at the same time they acted as if they were the same person.

On a Grey Saturday, the boys had planned to watch a movie together at the local Theater. The smaller of the two arrived earlier than the time they had agreed to meet, so he waited patiently by the entrance for the older boy. His head kept darting left and right, trying his hardest to catch a glimpse of his friend’s all-too-familiar streak of blonde hair.

Meanwhile, the other was in his Mother's car, hopping up and down in his seat. He couldn't wait to meet his best friend, even though the younger had went to his house the day before. His mother chuckled, glancing every minute or so at her impatient son. The car swerved around a corner of a building complex and drove past a Fairly-Empty Park, the Theater just a few blocks away.

"Umma, can you drop me off behind the Theater?" the boy asked, finally stopping his joyful bouncing.

The older woman looked at the blonde, questioning him with her eyes. Nevertheless, she turned the steering wheel to the left, guiding the car towards the back of the cinema -- just how her son asked her to.

The boy didn't waste any more time as he hopped out of the car, yelling out a quick 'bye, Mom!' before slamming the door shut. His Mother sadly watched as her son ran all the way back to the front, her eyes slightly b with unshed tears.

He didn't kiss his Mother a goodbye.

--

I won't let nobody hurt you
Won't let no one break your heart
No, no one will desert you
Just try to never grow up, never grow up

--

It was a chilly day, the light drizzle making the sidewalk wet as a 16-year-old ran lightly on his feet. His nose was runny, and his cheeks were wet. A choking sob escaped his throat as he reached the front porch of his one-story house, his arms swinging the unlocked door open before stomping into the living room.

His Mother peeked out from the kitchen, the sound of the front door slamming close jolting her from her previous job of preparing dinner. The middle-aged woman dried her hands onto the Pink Apron she wore while cooking and took the garment off, before following after her son’s footsteps. As she entered the living room, her ears twitched as she heard her son’s faint sobs.

Her instincts as a Mother quickly picked up as she saw the state the boy was in, clothes drenched from the rain outside and eyes red from crying. He had thrown his backpack down, school materials spilling out of the soft-blue bag and onto the carpeted floor. The woman quickly sat beside the young boy, and cradled his body as he continued to cry. She didn’t know what could’ve possibly sent her sensitive baby into a sobbing mess, but she preferred to tend to her son first before asking any questions.

Just as the sun dipped below the horizon and the world was clouded with sheer darkness was when the boy finally looked up, his hand carelessly rubbing his runny nose while his Mother wiped off the tear streaks that formed on his flawless cheeks. The woman affectionately swiped his bangs away from his puffy eyes, before planting a tender kiss onto his forehead. The small family sat in the middle of the dark room, the kitchen light the Mother forgot to turn off the only thing illuminating the house.

“A girl asked him out today.” The boy said weakly, all of his energy completely drained from his previous sobbing.

His Mother only nodded. She didn’t need to know who the girl was and which ‘him’ her son was referring to. She knew the boy well enough to put two-and-two together.

“He said yes. Of course he said yes! Why wouldn’t he? Boa is kind and smart and funny and she’s so talented! Have you heard her singing? She’s amazing! Why wouldn’t he want a girl as beautiful and perfect as her!” He ranted, pausing once in a while to choke in a sniffle.

“And… And he didn’t even ask me if it was okay!” The boy continued, now flailing his arms wildly to emphasize his point. “He always asks me if it was okay to date somebody!”

It took another few minutes for him to get his frustrations out of his system, and at 7:31, the boy gradually fell into a slumber in his Mother’s arms. The elder woman made sure he was fast asleep before lifting him up off the sofa, and heaved his small figure all the way into his bedroom. She gently set him onto his bed, and he immediately burrowed himself into the soft covers. The woman then went to grab a cloth, before dipping it into cold water and wiped his face and arms with the garment. Once she was done, she gazed at her son’s sleeping figure. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she choked back a sob and silently went out of the bedroom.

Her baby was growing up, much too fast for her liking.

--

No one's ever burned you
Nothing's ever left you scarred
And even though you want to
Just try to never grow up

--

The boys were 18-years-old when the younger of the two’s Father passed away. It was a Gloomy day, the wind howling and chilly as it touched the younger’s bare forearms. He shuddered, fingers brushing against the goose bumps forming on the pale skin.

Everyone was there. The Elementary School teachers that worked near the Theater, the community service helpers that sweep up the Fairly-Empty Park every Sunday, and his Mother – his beautiful Mother. Her tiny figure wrapped in layers and layers of white silk, accenting her raven-hair. In her hand, a Scarf that his Father always tucked into his shirt pocket before going to work, gripped tightly in her dainty hands, occasionally hovering it below her nose to inhale his familiar scent on them.

The boy couldn’t take it anymore. The National flag he clenched in both of his hands fell onto the decaying grass of the cemetery, before he turned around and shoved past the many spectators gathered to witness the funeral of Lee Donghae’s Father. With short but fast strides, the 18-year-old ran away from the crowd, the Pastor’s words drowning out as he further the gap between him, his Mother, and his Father’s corpse. The boy managed to sneak into the small bathroom the town had built near the cemetery, closing the door shut after him and locking it in place. He sat on the toilet’s closed lid, pushing his legs close to his chest and sobbing loudly into his knees.

"Hae, please open the door."

Someone knocked onto the door, softly at first. The boy knew right from the first syllable that it was his friend, who attended the funeral just to give strength to the brunette. The elder banged on the wooden door. Once, twice -- even three times. He kept knocking and knocking, in hope that it'll loosen the stupid lock so he could barge in and gather the weeping boy back into his arms. He’ll softly coo reassures into his ear, and he’ll gently rock the two of them back and forth while sitting on the dirty bathroom tiles. He’ll tell the younger everything was okay, even when they both knew the reassurance was futile.

Lee Donghae no longer had a Father. The man who used to shower the boy with gifts, love, and support. The tiny apartment he lived along with his Mother will lose its musky scent that only the elder man could radiate. It has lost its colour, its glow. It could no longer be called home.

Lee Donghae lost the man who assured him that he was okay every second of the day. That he was obviously getting healthier and healthier as the weeks passed.

The young boy cried harder at the thought.

His friend kept knocking, the sound slowly turning weaker and weaker as he realized that nothing he could do would lessen the pain the brunette felt. The crying boy could hear the dull thump of the blonde’s body crashing onto the carpeted floor, and then the scrape of clothes against wood as the man leaned against the bathroom door. The elder was crying now.

Because whenever Lee Donghae cried, Lee Hyukjae would cry with him.

--