A/N: Finally, I got the courage to post the first chapter, thanks for waiting, you kind subbies. ^^

(doodooseob; heartsparks; VeAmilla; changkyu_haehyuk; trollesrun; parachutes; MrskimSunggyu; Ero-chibi; 2pmkhunnie; pedopeco; khenira; Gyu_428; b2uty_4ever; blingontheblock)

I made double updates since I’ve been cancelling this for quite long time. So tell me what you think after you read them. I posted these two updates as background for Sunggyu’s characterization. Basically, these were merely a prologue; they say explaining character’s background in the beginning would kill the mood but well, yeah, I just want to make things clear. No actual meeting with Myungsoo and/or L in these updates apparently, it would definitely be in the upcoming update.

Anyway, tell me what you like and dislike of the first two chapters so that I can evaluate. I really want to improve my writing. Throw kisses.. or rocks, I don’t mind. (I mean it!)

Hope I can make another chapter soon. Have more patience, tehee~

XOXO, kanigara.

Heartbeat.

A simple thumping motion resulted from the closing and opening of four chambers in the heart. The humble motions compiled many explanations to keep someone alive.

Some un-scientific hypothesis about it also existed, even. So they said when two supposedly fated souls –in romantic term to be precise- met, the heart would tell, palpitating weirdly and spreading giddiness inside of one self. Believe it or not, the notion was alive in human being history just like that.

And heartbeats, although really weak and slow, were the only noises resonating in the room. Slowly but surely the slightest light beamed upon his vision, breaking the dark stillness.

Ever so slowly, Kim Sunggyu was fully awake –although had not fully conscious. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. The moment he fully noticed where he was laying, his eyes fell on the beeping machine beside his bed and some elastic tubes attached to his body and on his wrist.

He drew back his scrutiny, and began to register what had happened yesterday, or was it already few days ago? He did not have any idea how long he had out.

Rubbing his temple few times, he remembered what had happened the previous day. He recalled he was strolling down the park, sitting on one of the long iron benches, drowning his mind in the book he was holding. He remembered the nausea in his head he felt since he woke up that afternoon, but had chosen to ignore it. It was risky to ignore even the slightest cramp he felt in fact. But his days for the past two weeks were filled with rehearsals, and took up his time to simply enjoy some short walks outdoor, so he decided to steal some opportunity and go to the park. Guess it was actually a horrible idea as his head kept pounding and his heartbeats grew weaker until he dropped the book he held, focusing on clutching his chest. His feet flinched slightly but powerful enough to crack a sound of –what he assumed as- dry twigs under his shoes. And the last thing he saw was an auburn apple leaf landed on his toe before he fell into the stage of unconsciousness.

It was not something new for Kim Sunggyu to be awakened in a square room, surrounded by all whitish utensils –wall, door, curtain, bed, and even he wore a piece of white robe. As much as he loves the color of white, being able to explore the colorful town; or walking down the autumn park; or just simply staying in his own comfortable bed at home –although there was no so much white, it was definitely a better option. Next time, he would make sure to just go to hospital park when boredom haunt him; if he ever passed out again, at least nurses were everywhere.

“Hello, handsome patient,” a motherly tone broke the silence. A nurse with a friendly eye smile came to his sight, not young though –probably in her fortyish. She held an aluminum tray, consisting of some bowls which Sunggyu sure enough was his breakfast. Or maybe brunch –he managed to take glance at the clock before revising the proper term for having beverage at this hour.  

Sunggyu tried to get up slightly, or to be exact merely repositioned himself. “Hello, nurse Lee. How are you?”

“Fine, young man. My husband and I just went for a vacation to Jeju-do last week, just like what you suggested,” the nurse answered while setting down the tray.

“Sounds nice,” Sunggyu said, smilling weakly.

“Yeah.” She agreed while checking his IV hanging on the iron pool next to his bed, tiptoeing carefully due to her height. Sunggyu had to suppress his chuckles –it was always funny, although this was surely not the first time he witnessed such pose displayed by this nurse Lee.

“You can go along with our family next time, sweetheart.” She turned to face him then. “But, what happened yesterday? Did you overwork yourself again?” She ended the question by bringing her hands to her hips.

Sunggyu sighed in relieve for he got unconscious only for less than 24 hours. By the days his condition seemed to be weakening, passed out for that amount of time was sadly counted normal for him. “Sorry, nurse Lee. Maybe I just did. Promise I won’t do it again,” he tried to answer honestly with a plain smile plastered upon his lips.

“Better it be,” she narrowed her eyes, actually aware that there will be always ‘next time’ for some dream-obsessed person like Sunggyu. “Here, I brought you something to eat. Don’t tell other nurse, I made it myself just for you, my favorite patient.”

“I’m flattered. Thank you very much. You’re like my mom in this big cold Seoul.”

“You can call me mom if you want. You know my husband and I have no kid.”

Sunggyu’s stomach twitched a little at nurse Lee’s words, turned out no one ever have such kind of perfect life. At the same time, though, his heart suddenly warmed up by those words. He grew to like this town; he made friends, made a living even met kind nurses and doctor who care for him. Could anything get any better?

“You’re so kind.”

She shrugged and sat at the chair beside Sunggyu’s bed. “Do you want me to help you with the foods?”

“No need. I can eat it myself.” He waved his hand in the air.

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After finishing the home made brunch, Sunggyu got some injections and had fallen asleep, again -just a brief nap. They also had moved him from Intensive Care Unit to regular room.

It was twelve thirty and his doctor said he could go home at two. So, he decided to turn on the television to get some entertainment or just killing time. He stopped for a moment on a drama. He just like guys his age, not really into this kind of thing actually. But, nurse Lee talked about it the other day because she thought the main actor has the same dream as Sunggyu, doing his best to be a pianist, to be a maestro.

It was not entirely same though. Sunggyu ended up playing the holy piano was not something bizarre because all the very reason he did it was because he could not afford the luxury to hold control over type of music he preferred. Yes, he actually love rock music better, he even tried it once in a while in the past. Considering his weaken condition as he grew older; playing piano, dancing his fingers upon those monochrome keys appeared to be the safest alternate choices –he could still play music anyway, no matter the genre, he really was grateful for that. After all, getting so much nausea from pressuring the heart –if he jumped up and down while sang rock songs- to pump a litre more of blood would likely rise the possibility of him died anyway. Most of the times Sunggyu was just so open and straightforward when he talked about life span, death.

He did not and could not have a stage fever syndrome, even. He just could not afford the risk to have that simple jittery inside of him, and worst ended up blacking out right before a performance. It was a big ‘no’. Miraculously, he always managed.  

His mind wandered further, reflecting his past a little bit deeper. The TV was out of consideration by then. 

Many would say giving up his music preference because of health reason was plain silly. He heard enough. Things did not, however, seem to stop there. His little sorrowful chronicle of life grew vast the moment he found out about his ual orientation. Being a teenager in his seventeenth, he grew up knowing many people of many nationalities, religions, races and practically being exposed to a wide range of and uality. Up until he reached the point when he found himself standing in the side walk where –as the mainstreams said- normal people were not ‘allowed’ to cross. That kind of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ stuff.

He liked leaning on broad shoulder rather than embracing narrow waist. Another guy with sandalwood scent was way more attractive rather than floral scented perfume sprayed on a curvy body. He considered messy short hair –or maybe spikey- was more presentable rather than long wavy hair with a full covered make up face underneath. He named it preference; they said the canonical norm never give such option, it was deviation.

He found it funny –or silly- for love had to be boxed into this and that, for affection to be gendered. Because for him, love is when you hold someone so dearly in your arms and having him/her would make it warm all over you, that you would just ready to give everything up to protect this important person. Then why so worked up upon labeling? He hated labels. This society needed to open up, they needed to move on. They were in fact the ones who hide in the closet, stuffing their ears with plugs, deliriously refuse to listen.

He did not consider himself as being deviant. It was as simple as his preference for his mom silence companion at the veranda in a late afternoon to hanging out to Starbucks with his so-called gangs just because he was expected to be sociable. Or simply his preference for white color rather than black. He could not care less, seriously.

Yet, living on this earth with him being gay was, in fact, a vast expanse of disgrace to his faithful father, sister, brother, grandma, uncle, aunt, niece, and every other persons he could mention who were bonded by blood with him. Months after, also he had stopped coming to church, not because he hated or was angry at Him but those people of –so they said- sainthood had closed the door on him. As if locking him outside would not shake their definition of ‘normality’. Why was he ‘not normal’ anyway? Who was it they were kidding?

His beloved mom once said that she would always love him the way he is, but sometimes he caught his mom frowned a bit when he giggled on his boyfriend jokes over the phone. The wavering trust, the doubt, was visibly there –at least his mom tried though.

So he left. He moved to his own place.

He got a scholarship to an art performance college in Seoul, thanks for his unfathomable relationship with those black and white keys. His capability to strum a wave of enchanting melodious sound of the stuff called piano was undoubtedly excellent and once again enchanting for whoever heard it. Eventually, he also made a living out of it.

The world is like a corpus in which life was crafted as humor and satire in every page –probably, quite a pleasurable show for whoever in charge up there (this kind of thoughts in rare time was ghosting over him). A tragicomedy. But Sunggyu was determined; he had promised himself to stop complaining the day he stepped out of that house. He could not blame anyone. He would not.

To try standing strong and being content and fulfilled were what he was working on every now and then in this town.