those nights are the special ones.

--

Kim Myungsoo sits in the middle of his class, feet stacked upon the railing of the basket underneath the desk in front of him. Sungyeol sits in that desk and it’s inconvenient having him sit there, not because he likes to steal Myungsoo’s snacks and his notes and sometimes, his attention, but the really bothersome thing is that he’s almost half a head taller than Myungsoo. He blocks the board, but most of the times, he remembers to twist his head to the side so Myungsoo can see, but don’t trust Sungyeol with remembering something (anything, to be honest).

Myungsoo is a straight B and A- student, plays soccer occasionally, when the team needed more members, fools around in the gym with Sungyeol and a basketball because Sungyeol is the clumsiest person ever alive, but basketball is just his thing. Sungyeol and Myungsoo are friends. They have five out of seven periods together, including lunch. They talk about nothing and everything and Sungyeol’s the one that introduces him to all these people (who he doesn’t really care for) who he wouldn’t have strike conversations with—ever.

Sungyeol likes girl groups and Myungsoo listens to Yiruma and indie bands. Myungsoo plays the guitar sometimes; Sungyeol likes to fool around on the drum set that belongs to his brother. They had once thought of joining a band but Sungyeol only laughs and forgets, although Myungsoo never does quite forget the promise.

Myungsoo is L to Sungyeol; Sungyeol says it’s the nickname that fits him the most. It’s often accompanied with the word prince and Sungyeol knows he hates it, but he does it anyway because apparently Myungsoo pouts. He does not—you can ask anyone, excluding Woohyun, Sunggyu, and Sungjong and you’d find out that he doesn’t pout. That waters his social circle down to Hoya and Dongwoo—Hoya doesn’t really care about anything unless someone calls him Howon, then there’s a fight. Dongwoo is the most agreeable person who defends the person that looks most like the victim (and Sungyeol will never look like anything other than the offender, Myungsoo calmly says one evening when Sungyeol wonders aloud if he’d get away with murder).

They joke, they’re boys, so they sometimes “brofist” things out. Once, Myungsoo fell in love with Sungyeol’s girlfriend. They had a silent war going on for nearly three weeks, with Dongwoo looking petrified when one of them walks up to him and rants to him about the other (it’s not Dongwoo’s fault he’s so approachable). That ends approximately two days after Woohyun calls them petty and they fight it out (Sungyeol may have purposely dragged Woohyun in there because Woohyun sometimes needed a good beating too) and they laugh about it afterwards with busted lips and black eyes (and Woohyun threatening to sue them in the background for nearly breaking his “authentically beautiful and natural” nose). That’s just the nature of boys, though. Sungyeol dumps the girl a few weeks later and mopes about it for a good month or so. Myungsoo buys him ice cream and they don’t talk about her after Sungyeol gets over the initial heartbreak. Myungsoo realizes Sungyeol is a wonderful friend.

So when Sungyeol falls in love with a girl that Myungsoo has been crushing on for possibly half a year (Myungsoo had immediately moved on from Sungyeol’s ex after he found out that she only dated Sungyeol to get close to Woohyun ((out of everyone, Woohyun? Myungsoo seriously doubts the girl’s taste)) and his heart isn’t broken as much as Sungyeol’s is, so he makes sure to be super nice and do most of his math homework for him). So when Sungyeol happily announces his interest for Haneul over the lunch table, Myungsoo bites back a frown. Haneul is a pretty junior of theirs, who’s approximately a head shorter than Myungsoo and likes to draw.

She’s the quiet type, shy in front of the crowd and rowdy with her friends—as most girls are. She has big brown eyes and Myungsoo feels a certain pull towards her he hasn’t felt with any other girls (possibly because that’s the first girl he’s crushed on, and not just halfheartedly liked). Her hair falls in thick strands and although he had always prefer wavy brown hair or soft curls, the stark black strands of straight hair makes his heart leap. However, he still backs off for Sungyeol because he figures it’s alright to repay the debt (and he figures Haneul would prefer someone with more pizazz like Sungyeol, rather than his dull self). He learns to not physically shake when they hold hands or whisper in each other’s ear. He learns not to be jealous of their dates and that Sungyeol no longer plays basketball with him or bangs on the drum set so obnoxiously loud, just to spite Myungsoo’s brother (who could never play the drum half as well as Sungyeol could).

He learns soon that he isn’t jealous of Sungyeol, but of Haneul for seemingly replacing him. He doesn’t love Sungyeol in a romantic way, but he misses Sungyeol waving his head obnoxiously to distract him from note taking. Now he just tries to sneak texts every other class with his head bent over his lap and Myungsoo doesn’t lend him notes because he doesn’t deserve them anymore. They still sit together at lunch with all the other guys, but more often than not, Sungyeol’s eyes are on Haneul who’s across the cafeteria. Myungsoo groans because they’re throwing hearts at each other and this is totally something Woohyun would do on any given day, but it’s Sungyeol, the one who hated Woohyun’s greasiness the most.

When Haneul and Sungyeol break up, it was a total shocker. Even Sungjong, who is allegedly the relationship master, was shocked. “Didn’t feel it anymore,” Sungyeol says moodily when everyone bombards him with questions. Myungsoo sits quiet, because Sungyeol hates the sort of attention that makes him squirm. So Myungsoo waits until they’re alone (well, surrounded by other students, but still alone) in Literature to ask him why through a bright yellow sticky note. Sungyeol replies back with because she cheated and Myungsoo thinks he hears Sungyeol sniffle.

So Myungsoo leaves Sungyeol alone to cool off (and cry to himself because Sungyeol thinks it’s embarrassing to cry in front of others) and he doesn’t call or text because Sungyeol doesn’t call or text. He will, in due time, when he can face society and call himself a man. Myungsoo doesn’t say anything about how stupid it sounds when Sungyeol first brings it up because they’re friends and Sungyeol is a lot more delicate then he lets on. Myungsoo’s stronger at some things, and he doesn’t quite understand why Sungyeol always has to act tough. People are weak at times, and time and again, things have proven Sungyeol’s not made of titanium. But Myungsoo will play along because that’s what friends do.

They’re even now; both of them are out of love. Sungyeol returns to normal—shaking his head back and forth distractingly, letting his long arms stretch out and inconspicuously tickling Myungsoo with them. They hang out after school and play basketball when the gym is abandoned and sneak away during lunch period with Hoya at times and Woohyun another. It’s really simple, honestly, and Myungsoo thinks it’s sort of, almost, nice—just being them is nice.

He doesn’t feel lonely at night because more often than not, Sungyeol is down on the ground besides him (or in bed with him because sometimes Sungyeol complains about the cold and Myungsoo gives in). But there’s something missing and he honestly doesn’t know what. Maybe it’s because he can’t hold hands or kiss Sungyeol (he could, but Sungyeol couldn’t—that sums up their relationship a lot, to be honest). It’s not even romantic feelings, Myungsoo’s sure of it. Just a desire to be with someone intimately and it would be so much easier if Sungyeol was a girl. But he isn’t, so Myungsoo’s out looking for the next best thing (blindly while the very best thing is sitting in front of him, doodling in his notebook).

Sometimes, Myungsoo dreams about Sungyeol being a girl and the next day he’s oddly quiet (even more so than normal, because he can’t space out or he’ll fantasize about Sungyeol).

So, Myungsoo decides, that maybe it’s a bit more than familial love, but not quite bordering romance. He just sits, sometimes frustrated, and thinks things over five or six time consecutively. That’s just how Myungsoo is. He came to believe that it’s a stage and maybe because he has never been exposed to a real relationship, maybe he’s mistaken friendship for something more than it actually was. It’s a theory filled with holes and empty explanations but it is better than nothing and it helps him sleep better at night (makes him okay with the dreams).

He thinks to himself that, hey, maybe it is just friendly love and he thinks it’s more because he’s never experienced more before. He lets himself slip back into the comfortable routine and forgets all about his stupid theory and hole-filled excuses and forgets about that lonely feeling that makes his heart ache and his stomach hurt.

When Sungyeol dies, he doesn’t take it well. Myungsoo withdraws from everyone, save maybe his little brother and Sungjong, who was really convincing and manipulative when he needed to be. Myungsoo holes himself in his room and speaks to the wall (to the wall Sungyeol always leaned on when Myungsoo tries to do homework). Sungjong is worried, everyone’s worried, but they’re not worried about Sungyeol, and that sort of makes him angry.

Myungsoo eventually moves on, but being able to see the whiteboard fully without a mop of brown hair waving around obnoxiously in front of him makes him feel empty. No longer did anyone steal his notes and beg him to help them on their homework—no more hands crawling up his leg, trying to tickle him behind his knees. No one ever played basketball with him, Woohyun had only befriended him because he knew Sungyeol and now that Sungyeol’s not there, Woohyun doesn’t sneak out with him any longer. Hoya still does, but neither of them have anything to argue or talk about since Sungyeol wasn’t there. The lunch table was suffocating with all the silence and tension everyone brought with them. Sunggyu tries to scold everyone and crack jokes, but they aren’t funny and Myungsoo doesn’t have anyone to blame anything on any longer.

Sungjong talks about fashion and hair and girls and everything he’s not comfortable with, but it’s better than being alone. He has two classes in common with most of his friends. Myungsoo and Sungjong only have one period together—lunch. He’s alone most of the time, and somehow, he’s been moved to the back of the class when they had a seating change during the second semester. He cries a lot at night, not because he feels lonely (he does), but because he feels empty and unloved and unwanted.

Sungyeol’s gone and he’s alone, abandoned. He fake smiles and laughter and everyone thinks everything is alright. But he knows a part of his heart will never heal. It was that night he realized that he had been in fact, in love with Sungyeol. His heart breaks a bit and he realizes that, maybe, just maybe, Sungyeol had loved him back too.

--

It was a new year—new people, new faces. Myungsoo had moved school because his parents felt like there were too many traces of Sungyeol left behind and it’s not healthy for Myungsoo. He resented them a bit in the beginning, but he’s used to being alone. That fact doesn’t change at this school either—people looked at him weirdly, girls spread rumors about him, guys exclude him, deeming him the icy prince type. He wanted friends, but it seems it wasn’t easy making them.

Sungyeol had been the one to approach him—first year of middle school, Sungyeol just walks up to him and declares himself as his best friend. “Suji likes you, so if I hang out with you, she’ll like me too!” Sungyeol had a gummy smile and knees that were always scrapped. He had a horrible haircut and Myungsoo did too—they never let each other lived it down. Sungyeol liked acting and girl groups—Myungsoo plays the guitar and sometimes he sings to some of indie band song. Sungyeol laughs and calls him old school, teasing, but not joking. Myungsoo laughs too, because with Sungyeol, you’re obliged to laugh for no reason at all. That’s just how Sungyeol was.

He sits on the side during Literature class, looking out the window when the story they’re reading gets boring. The teacher likes to pair them up and have them answer questions or write short essays or do group projects after they’re finished with a story.

Today was not an exception. It was the last chapter; they were assigned to read a couple of chapters before it the night prior. They read the last chapter together and the story was sort of horrible, but nice to the ear. The teacher says she doesn’t quite like this (yet she had liked a story they read a while ago, but Myungsoo thinks that one was utter crap). The story is called The Little Drummer Boy of Shiloh and there are a lot of metaphors half the class doesn’t understand, but Myungsoo does. Myungsoo has been acquainted with his book very well—it smells like old newspaper and loose leaf paper you haven’t touched since the beginning of school. He knows it well since he always has his head resting on it.

But he doesn’t put his head down for this story. This story had plucked a heartstring of his.

When the teacher assigns partners, he’s stuck with a girl named Soyu with fire red hair that was left tangled in a ponytail. “You’re the new kid aren’t you?” He’s been here for practically half the year and she hasn’t even noticed him. “I’m Soyu, nice to meet you!”

“Myungsoo, Kim Myungsoo.” He mumbles to himself, softly shaking the hand she had extended.

“I don’t see why Mrs. Cho doesn’t like this story; it’s a lot better than Pick a Rose. She raved about that one and it was terrible.” Myungsoo learns that Soyu is a talkative person who has lots of expressions and she’s not afraid to show them.

Myungsoo only smiles politely and asks her what pages they were answering. “Page two hundred thirty-two, number two, four, and five, I think.”

The story was about the Civil War and the drummer boys that beat on drums to carry out commands from the general to his soldiers. “I think this story isn’t so simple, like the rest of those bird brains probably think. It’s deeper, there’s always something deeper in a story—a hidden intent.” She fills the silence that Myungsoo leaves and he finds himself enjoying her company. She reminded him of Sungyeol, always talkative, more gum than teeth when smiling, happy-go-lucky, completely and totally spontaneous.

“I think so too.” He offers a reply that goes unnoticed by her brown eyes. She’s looking straight ahead.

The first question reads, why do you think Joby joined to be a drummer boy?

Myungsoo fills out words, replying neatly and accurately. Because he was an orphan, he had nowhere to go—nowhere to be wanted. Myungsoo had always been more philosophical then he lets on, but this is all Sungyeol’s fault. Sungyeol has such strong philosophy, and you’d expect him to be the guy that breaks all life’s rule. No, Lee Sungyeol was wary of life and always had strong opinions—not matter what it was about; whether it be yesterday’s dinner or tomorrow’s math test scores or about recent bombings and wars in other countries as well as their own, Sungyeol somehow always knew things most people didn’t see—ever.

Soyu gave off the same aura, she was deep in thoughts and Myungsoo had cited his answers aloud, asking her if it fit. She just nodded halfheartedly. The next question asks, why do you think Joby cried? Were the soldiers’ fears and his the same? In what ways were they different or alike?

Soyu beats him to the answer. The soldiers fear the battle of tomorrow—Joby fears the day after tomorrow, when the war is over and he’s left without purpose in life again. He was crying, not about today, because it was uneventful, or yesterday, because his past has always been empty, nor was it about tomorrow, because war is war anywhere. But the day after—who talks about it and who knows what it will bring. The soldiers are afraid of not being immortal forever because they’ve convinced themselves they’re the few that’ll survive and sit down and enjoy another family meal. Joby is afraid, that once after the war ends, he’ll have nowhere left to go because he never experienced a family meal to begin with. In the story, they talk about how he only has his drum, not even a set of shields to defend himself with. That represents how he has nothing to fight for and nothing to look towards to, while the other soldiers are equipped with guns and dreams of tomorrow.

The answer was long, so Myungsoo shortens it and corrects things here and there. He looks the answer over and is shocked at how eloquently Soyu had written it. “I’m that type of girl,” she winks and moves on to the next question without answering the question Myungsoo had asked of how she came up with the answer.  

The last question asked why the general had stopped and talked to Joby—the meaningless drummer boy.

This time Myungsoo formulates a lengthy and absolute answer. The general stops because he hears Joby crying and rustling in his cot. He hears Joby subtly beating on his drum, as if he were reminiscing and missing it before it was even gone. The general realizes, not long after he begins conversing with Joby that the boy isn’t crying about tomorrow, like he had initially thought. The general tries a few encouraging words. “You are the heart of the army—without your fast pace beating, all of our soldiers will fall to sleep if you beat slow, but you are a young and wild heart, so beat freely and fast. You will save us.” Is what he had meant with his conversation with Joby.

Soyu applauds Myungsoo, “I’m that type of guy,” he shoots back and she laughs, a bit screechy and chalky, but it’s so like Sungyeol’s laughter. Mrs. Cho glares at them to stifle their laughter but Soyu continues to laugh all the way up the aisle as she handed Mrs. Cho their paper.

“Done already?” She asks, suspiciously. Soyu nods and bounces back to their seat.

“Want to be my friend? I like your type,” she winks again, and Myungsoo sees every trace of Sungyeol in here, but it’s different because he can hold her hands and kiss her. But he won’t, he realizes, because he had seen in between the lines of her words. Let’s stay friends, okay? Soyu curls her hair the next day and Myungsoo’s heart beat increases.

They discuss about their favorite scent and Myungsoo finds out she’s allergic to strawberries. Myungsoo notes that her eyes crinkle in delight whenever he cracks a lame joke and how she softly tucks strands of stray hair behind her ear. He notices her many piercings—just as Sungyeol had once. They say first love never dies, and he thinks it’s true.

Soyu takes him out to eat ice cream and tugs on his hand (holds it tight) when he walks too slowly and her craving for ice cream got the better of her (it’s freezing outside). He invites her to dinner and she finds his brother’s drum set, laid tucked in the corner of the common room. “Do you mind if I play it?” Soyu strikes each beat and he strums each note and they blend together and forms something sort of musically fantastic.

“Your little brother doesn’t like me, does he?”

“My little brother doesn’t like anyone but himself, to be honest.” And they share plenty of laughter. He takes her hand and they watch a scary movie together (it’s him who jumps on her lap, just as he had done with Sungyeol) and he finds himself thinking less of Sungyeol and more of Soyu.

They write stories together—they scrape lyrics after lyrics, journal entries after journal entries, and talk about nearly nothing.

Myungsoo reads in between the lines of her stories (listens in between the lines of her stories) and sees (hears) the entirety of wholesome and delightful ideas or things they could have been and or will (never) be. But Myungsoo never moves, because just like the drummer boy, he’s worried about the day after and how alone he’ll be, rather than focusing on now or never. Soyu is too much like Sungyeol, and what if she’s gone too, like Sungyeol had done, when he finally accepts the reality of things?

Myungsoo writes away his feelings and he thinks Soyu had noticed because she seems more cheery (too cheery) around him. Tonight, he pauses and looks at Soyu across the dining table, the wind brushed words against his window panes. Words that don’t make sense because they screech and they wave and they blend together. He stops to peer over at what Soyu was writing. But he thinks that they whisper secret confessions of the never-knows of the world and what sweet joy one could get from imagining something that will never be.

Soyu writes, Tonight, the world is asleep and I step down the clouds to find the world empty and void of anything but whispering winds talking of how things could have been.

They really do fit—but Myungsoo thinks, for some odd reason, that Soyu wouldn’t have liked Sungyeol at all, even if they do fit.