“Look, you’re a psychologist, right?”

            “I am.” I sighed into the phone.

            “I’ll pay a whole lot for you to come help my son.”

            “You said you’d provide my meals right?” I smiled with the thought of free food. Hell, she could pay me in just food.

            “Of course, of course!” The woman exclaimed on the phone.

            “I’ll be there in 10.” I hung up, driving over to the address. It was a small brick home, a barren front yard, the flowers dead. The whole atmosphere seemed dead. There was some definite negative emotion in this household.

            I got inside, the scent of home cooking filling my nose. I smiled, but my expression dropped with the sight of the bare, plain wooden walls and beige carpet floors. It was a dull home, even the furniture lacking color, either gray or beige. A woman ran up to me, messy brown hair hanging off her shoulders, a dirty white apron about to fall off her shoulders. “Jung Daehyun-ssi?” She asked, and I nodded.

            “You must be Moon Yunji?” I asked, and with a nod, she grabbed my wrist gently and took me up creaky stairs, seeming to be closer and closer to breaking with every step. A door was shut, and Mrs. Moon knocked on it gently.

            “Jonguppie?” She said softly, “Someone is here to see you.”

            There was no response. I just waved her aside, trying to open the door myself. It was locked, the golden handle coated with rust all around it. “I heard a new video game just came out, ah, what was it…Dance Fever?” I said loud enough for him to hear me through the door. “I know a guy who can get you a discount.”

            The handle rattled and opened rather harshly. The scent rushed to my nose, filled with sweat, yet this sweet, cologne scent that I happened to enjoy. There was a boy standing there, a glare written all over his face. He had the same brown hair ruffled around his head, crisp jawline, high cheekbones, thin, chocolate eyes, and a slender build. He wore a tight wifebeater and baggy sweatpants. “What do you want?” He asked, a smooth, melodic voice slipping past his full lips.

            He was gorgeous to say the least.

            “I hear you haven’t been feeling so hot.” I tried to sound relaxed, although my eyes were resisting the urge to wander. “I’ve come to help.”

            “I’m fine.” He rolled his eyes.

            “Jonguppie, you won’t even leave your room.” Mrs. Moon’s voice was pleading, her hands clutching to her chest.

            He just sighed, “You’re another therapist, aren’t you?”

            “Not technically.” I mumbled and he just slammed the door. I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

            “He’s depressed.” Another boy walked by, darker brown hair styled off his forehead.

            “Brother?” I asked, he nodded.

            “One of two. I’m Jongsun.” He walked by me, a girl at the door waiting for him. They left the house, and Mrs. Moon just sighed.

            “Maybe that’s his problem.” She whispered.

            “What?” I asked.

            “He doesn’t like girls.” She muttered, “Jonguppie.”

            “Nothing wrong with that.” I shrugged, homoual myself.

            “Well, his boyfriend that he had for two years, he died four months ago.” She whispered, walking me to the kitchen. “After the funeral, he has locked himself in the room, won’t go to college, though he passed his entrance exams, won’t do anything. He won’t even eat unless I stand there and watch him.” She sighed, handing me a plate of food.

            “They were close, real close?” I asked, stuffing my mouth with the noodles, grinning with the delicious taste.

            “Very. They’d sit in Jongup’s room and just talk. Talk about anything. He’d hold him in his lap, and they’d just laugh, laugh at anything.” She smiled, “He was a sweetheart. Helped Jongup with his homework, put a smile on his face no matter what. Even when I divorced my husband, Jongup was happy because of him.”

            “What was his name?”  I asked, finishing the plate.

            “Kim Himchan.”  She smiled, “Such a sweet boy.”

            I took the time to get as much information about this Himchan figure as I could. It would be useful information in trying to help Jongup mourn.  There were a couple steps I had to walk him through. Step one, was make sure he wasn’t pretending that Himchan was still here.

            I walked back up to the room with a bowl of ice cream, something I knew no one can resist. I knocked, “You like chocolate ice cream, don’t you?” I asked, smiling when the door opened.

            “You still haven’t left yet?” He asked.

            I pushed past him, flopping on his bed. It was made up, a black and gold comforter sprawled across. I took a bite, humming at the taste of the homemade ice cream. “Your mother sure can cook I swear.” I mumbled and he just rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s a big bowl, I’m gonna get fat if I eat it alone.” I handed out a spoon and he stared for a few moments.

            “I don’t know you that well, man.” He shook his head. “Get the hell off my bed.”

            I chuckled, “It’s comfy, though.” He groaned, lying down next to me. He just sighed, grabbing a small, heart-shaped pillow and wrapping his arms around it. I looked over at it, smiling when I saw ‘Happy Valentine’s Day, Jonguppie~’ sewn into the fabric. “That was from Himchan, eh?” I asked and he just tensed.

            “’The hell do you know?” He murmured.

            “I know you loved him.” I said gently, “A lot.”

            “I still do. More than anything.” He whispered.

            “He loved ice cream, right?” I asked, and his sigh told me I was correct. “So come on, share.”

            He sat up, snatching the spoon and taking some. “Name?” He asked.

            “Jung Daehyun.” I smiled.

            “How much is she paying you?” He asked.

            I motioned to the ice cream, “Food is all I need.” I laughed, and he just furrowed his eyebrows.

            “She’s paying you in food?” He asked, and I shrugged.

            “We haven’t discussed payment. Don’t think I’ll be needing any.” I sighed contently, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “I think I’ll have fun just hanging out with you.”

            He pushed my arm away, clutching closer to the pillow. “I’m not a big fan of skinship without purpose.” He muttered.

            “Purpose?” I asked, tilting my head.

            He lowered his gaze, “If I’m not dating you, don’t touch me.”

            “O-Okay.” I nodded quickly, practically tasting the hatred fuming off of him.

 

            There was a lot of silence, the only voice heard was mine, telling him more about myself so he could feel comfortable. I planned on staying a week at his home as I do with most of my clients, so I could talk to him daily, figure out how to help him mourn. I went to my car and got my suitcase, returning and climbing those creaky stairs back into Jongup’s room. It was midnight by now, as I stayed up a bit talking to Mrs. Moon. She was telling me about what Jongup enjoys, what he and Himchan used to do.

            So when I got into his room, he was sleeping. I took a minute to look him over. He was on his stomach, his back exposed. His muscles were obvious, one of his packed arms under his head, and the other over the top of the comforter. I walked over to him, seeing tears streaming down his face. Mrs. Moon told me he didn’t cry. That even at the funeral, he never cried. She said he was strong on the outside, but she could tell he was crumbling on the inside.

            I’m assuming this was a very rare sight, to see him vulnerable like this. I just reached over, lightly bringing my fingers through his hair. It was a calming technique, working on everyone I tried it on. My nails grazed his scalp, and little by little, his body was relaxing, tears slowing down on their flow. “He’s gone, but he wouldn’t want you hurting, Jongup-ssi.” I whispered, continuing to graze his scalp. Once I saw his tears stop completely, and his body rolled over to face me, I smiled. I wasn’t expecting to find my eyes dropping to his washboard abs. I quickly looked away, about to set up my sleeping bag in the floor, but as soon as I took my hand from his hair, he groaned, his arms stretching out and latching onto my waist. I gasped, my behind falling back on the bed from his grip.

            “Jagi…” He muttered, his face pressing into my back. I just sighed.

            “He’s not coming back, Jongup-ssi.” I whispered, looking back at him.

           

            I woke in Jongup’s bed, where he had kept me there. He never let me go, no matter how much I tried to pry him away. So I was stuck. I didn’t mind, but I knew I had to get out of bed before he woke, because I’m sure he would mind. I tried to get out of his grip, but he just tightened his arms around me. His chest pressed tighter against my back. There was no use. I was stuck there.

            When he woke, he moved one arm, but kept the other around me. “Oh, sorry.” He muttered, “I kept you here, didn’t I?”

            I was expecting him to push me away when he woke, ask me what I was doing, but it seemed like this wasn’t the only time he locked someone in his grip. “It’s fine, you kept it cozy.” I chuckled, and he just slowly let me go.

            “Thanks.” He whispered, and I furrowed my eyebrows.

            “For what?” I asked.

            “That’s the only way I can sleep now.” He sighed, sitting up. “Holding onto someone.”

            I smiled, “I’ll be staying all week, so you’re welcome to hold onto me as much as you need, okay?”

            He nodded, “I appreciate it. More than you know.”

            His mother called for breakfast, and I immediately got up, but Jongup just rolled over. “Come on.” I whispered, grabbing his arm. “Let’s go eat.”

            “No thanks.” He muttered, but I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

            “Don’t you know the sanctity of food?” I gasped, “It is beautiful.”

            He just chuckled, “I’m not hungry, Daehyun-ssi.”

            “Yes you are, Jongup-ssi.” I said in a high voice, as if to talk to a baby. “Yes you are!”

            He rolled his eyes, getting up. “Fine, fine, I’m up.” He mumbled and I just cheered. He threw on a shirt and I pouted with the loss of the gorgeous sight, but when he turned, I made sure to hide the evidence. I grabbed his arms, pulling him down the creaky stairs and into the kitchen. Mrs. Moon’s eyes were wide, the Jongsun boy smiling.

            “Nice to see your face, dongsaeng.” He said softly, but Jongup just ignored him.

            We sat down at the table, and I didn’t let go of Jongup’s arm, almost keeping him at the table. Mrs. Moon began passing out plates, and I thought of a question. Didn’t Jongsun say he was one of two brothers?

            “Have you heard from Jonghwa?” Mrs. Moon asked the older brother.

            “Yeah, he’s doing fine. Acing all his classes.” He nodded.

            “College?” I asked, and Jongsun nodded again at me, face stuffed full of food.

            “I’m out on injury, but I’ll be back as soon as my arrhythmia stops.” He mumbled.

            “Oh, are you okay?” I asked, taking a bite of the food.

            “He’s fine, that .” Jongup whispered, and I just chuckled. “He just had a hole in the heart and he thought he was dying.”

            “They used the catheter treatment or surgery?” I asked, well aware of heart conditions, my father having died from open heart surgery.

            “Catheter.” Jongup muttered, “It only took about an hour and he went home that day, he’s just exaggerating to his college so he can stay out longer.”

            “Jongup, your brother needs to be confident in his heart’s health, let him take all the time he needs.” Mrs. Moon pointed her chopsticks in his face.

            Jongup didn’t even move his arm from my hold, simply using his other hand to eat. After a while, we finished, after I got seconds of course, and Jongup simply lightly tugged on his arm, subtly asking me to follow. I did, following him back up the stairs. He sat on the bed and I just sat next to him.

            He just sat, holding his hand in both of his, my palm facing the ceiling. “Are my hands that interesting?” I asked, as he seemed to be examining it.

            “I like hands.” He whispered, and I just smiled.

            “What do you like about hands?” I asked.

            “They’re like a connection.” He mumbled, “Holding people together.”

            “You don’t need to examine my hand to form a connection with me.” I chuckled and he just sighed.

            “Just let me look at it.” He murmured, and I just allowed him that, looking out his window at the butterflies dancing about. I was a psychologist, I knew that there were certain things people understood that no one else did. I guess hands were just his thing. No one would understand his love for them but him. After a while, he just pressed his hand against mine, measuring the tiny size of my hand compared to his.  “I can tell a lot about people by their hands.” He whispered.

            “What can you tell about me?” I asked and he just smiled.

            “You’re confident in only a few things, your looks are definitely not one of them.”

            As soon as he began, I knew he was spot on.

            “You love food, though you don’t like how chubby your cheeks are, though most people find them cute.” He continued, and I just pouted. “You love your job, helping people, reading people, you like to be in their heads, because you were bullied through school, and always wondered what they were thinking.”

            “All right, you can stop.” I mumbled, “You’re right, you’re right. How are you figuring that out?”

            “Hands tell you stress. Rough skin, exposed veins, bulky knuckles.” He let go of my hand and held up his own. “I mean look at mine.”

           

            I drug Jongup to every meal, and even took him out to a restaurant for dinner. It was hard to get him there, as he’d tense up and I knew he was thinking of Himchan, but once I got him in the small booth for two, he was pretty okay. The restaurant’s lighting was dim, the smooth music calming in the background. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, one of my favorite places to come eat.

            “I’ve never been here.” He muttered.

            “Too cheap for you, huh?” I asked, laughing softly. He actually nodded, and I just blinked my eyes wide.

“In order to impress someone like Kim Himchan, I had to do without to live up to his expensive expectations.” He smiled, sipping on the water he ordered.

“He come from a rich family?” I asked.

He shook his head, “Middle class, really. He just claimed that it was my job to give him what he wanted.” He smiled, “I didn’t mind going without. I really didn’t. I’d do anything to make him happy.”

It made me happy that he was using past tense. It’s hard to grieve when you are still talking as  if that person is still around. So Step One was complete, only at nights was he pretending he was still there, but your subconscious can’t be controlled.

Step Two was talking about it. Get some support to get past it.

Our food arrived, and I instantly dug in, but he just poked at it with the fork. “Look at it!” I exclaimed and he just furrowed his brows and looked at me. “It’s calling you! Can’t you hear it?” I asked and he shook his head, leaning down to the food. “Eat me, Jongup-ssi! I taste lovely!” I said in a strange voice, and he just chuckled.

“I’m just not hungry anymore, you know?” He mumbled, and I nodded.

“I think that’s why I love food so much now.” I nodded, “When I was younger, my father died in open heart surgery. He just wasn’t strong enough. I stopped eating for a long time, but now, I can’t get enough.” I smiled, and he just lowered his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”  He whispered.

“Not your fault.” I mumbled, and he just nodded.

 

We got back to his house, and Jongup went up to his room. Mrs. Moon grabbed me before I could follow. “How is he?” She whispered.

“Better than I expected.” I whispered, smiling. “He’ll be fine, soon.”

 

After a shower and a bit of spoiling myself on ice cream, I went up to Jongup’s room. I didn’t see him, and just furrowed my eyebrows. I walked downstairs, asking her where he could be. “There’s a set of stairs that you can only reach in his room.” She said with a smile. “He hasn’t gone down there since Himchan died, but he might be down there. It’s the door with the red handle.”

I opened the door, walking down the metal stairs. It was a small room, but I saw lots of paintings scattered around. It was mainly a boy, with a pale face, black hair. I assumed it was Himchan, especially when I saw Jongup picking them up carefully, setting them in a box. He sighed, shutting the cardboard and taping it shut. I just stood watch, as he began picking up new canvases, setting them up to be painted on.

“You paint?” I asked, and he just jumped, but turned and nodded at me.

“Not without inspiration.” He mumbled.

            “That was Himchan, wasn’t it?” I asked.

            He sighed, walking over and picking up the box. He just walked past me. He sat on his bed, and I just sat next to him. He ripped open the box, pulling out a painting. It was so realistic, I sat in awe. It was watercolor, with such precision and detail that you could even see the drop of sweat falling off the boy’s face. “Could you…” He whispered, his voice cracking. “…leave me in here?”

            “Sure, sure.” I nodded, walking out of the door. I went downstairs, waiting a few moments before walking back up there. The breaking sounds were clear from down here, so I knew I was going to walk into an emotional war zone. It was common with mourning, soon your grief turns to anger, and your anger turns into destruction.

            I opened the door, finding Jongup on the bed, a pillow over his head. The paintings were ripped, stabbed, and snapped. I just sighed, walking over to him and trailing my fingers lightly down his side. His tense body slowly started unraveling. It was easy for me to calm someone, as I took massage therapy as my minor while taking psychology.

            “Daehyun-ssi…” He whispered, and I just sighed.

            “It’s about time he dropped the formalities, huh? This is my second day here.” I mumbled, and he just uncovered his head, sitting up. His eyes were red, puffy. His lips quivering.

            “I’m sick of being sad!” He yelled, and I just sat down on the bed in front of him. “How do I stop being sad?” He asked, tears falling down his pretty face like rivers, dampening his cheeks. It was heartbreaking, even for me to watch. “It ing hurts.”

            “I know.” I whispered, wiping his tears. “I know.”

            “You’re the ing therapist!” He yelled, “Tell me how to make it stop.”

            I just sighed, everything I knew about the human mind seeming to fall apart. I couldn’t even think seeing him in this condition. It was just tearing at my heart, and I didn’t even know him that well. I just reached forward, pulling him close. He just gripped onto my shirt, sobbing into my shoulder.

 

            I woke, almost saddened not to feel his arms around me. “Jongup-ah?” I got up, walking down those special set of stairs, finding him sitting in the middle of the floor.

            “It’s been four ing months, Daehyun-hyung.” He sighed, “Four months.”

            “It took me years to overcome the loss of my father.” I said truthfully, “Time isn’t nice to us.”

            “I feel pathetic.” He whispered, “Because I keep blaming at him for leaving me. I need him, hyung. Even when he was here, if he didn’t call me for a couple days, I would be at a loss.”

            “I know.” I sat down next to him. “My mother took drugs, was drunk all the time. I had to take care of myself.” I mumbled, feeling myself tear up from thinking about it. “And I yelled at him in my mind, cursed him. I told him he didn’t have the right to leave me to suffer when my mother was pissed and slapped me in the face. He didn’t have the right.” I sighed, trying not to cry. “But there’s nothing we can do. They went and left and we can’t ing bring them back.”

            “How long did the pain last, hyung?” He asked, and I just sighed.

            “It never left.” I whispered.

            “Will it be this bad forever?”

            “No.” I smiled, “You feel better after a while. And I’m here to make that process quicker, okay?”

            “Okay.”

            Step Three, was to accept it. Accept their death, and learn to live with it.

            That was the hardest.

            Today was the third day here, second night.

            I had two days left to help him.

            Yet, I could tell it would take more.

            I had a couple goals I need to reach.

            I have to make him smile, make him laugh, and make him enjoy life again. No matter what I had to do, I was going to make him enjoy life.

            “Come on, let’s go out for breakfast.” I said eagerly, pulling him up. I took him to get some quick fast food, because my primary goal was to get him to this park. Once we finished eating, I pulled into the park. I grabbed his wrist, pulling him over to the swing set. I wasn’t expecting him to freeze. All of a sudden, he froze, his eyes locked on the third swing.

            “Can we go somewhere else?” He asked, and I could tell he wasn’t feeling all right.

            “Did you two have a moment on the swings?” I asked.

            “Right there.” He whispered, “This park.” He sighed. “This is where I gave him the promise ring. Told him I’d be with him no matter what.”

            I turned him around and pushed him on the swing. “Well, this is where I’m going to tell you the same thing…more or less.” I sighed. “I’m your new friend, okay? I’ll support you and help you no matter what. I’ve got your back.” I smiled, patting his head.

            A small smile formed on his face, “Same here, hyung. I’ll support you, too.” He grabbed my arm, pulling me forward. His arms fell around my waist, his head leaning against my stomach. He didn’t move, and neither did I. It only took a day for that ‘don’t touch me’ phase to fall, and now he was holding me. I could tell it was helping him. He seemed a lot more comfortable with someone in his arms.

            “Instead of looking back to remember him and be reminded he’s gone, look back and smile, because he was a wonderful person when he was here, right?” I mumbled, and he sighed deeply.

            “It’s not that easy and you know that.” He whispered.

            “Yeah, but I did it.” I mumbled, running my fingers through his hair. “Stop thinking of him as the bad guy. He died, he’s gone. But do you think he’d want you sitting around depressed?”

            “He hated when I was sad.” He mumbled, “Forced me to smile, whether or not he had to physically pull my lips up or not.” He chuckled.

            “Exactly.” I smiled, “So smile. Think about his happy memories. Stop focusing on life without him, and focus on life in general. Remember what you love about life and embrace it. This life is yours, spend it well.”

            He held onto me tighter. “I’m embracing you, does that count?” He joked, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

            “Maybe. But I’m not a big part of your life, so I don’t think it does.” I responded. He looked up at me and flashed a small smile.

            “But I count friends as a big part of my life, so I think you are a big part, hyung.” He stood off the swing, his head resting on my shoulder. “You’re the only one who understands me anyways.”

 

            Around lunch, the park was beginning to get crowded, and Jongup asked if we could leave. I gladly told him we could, as I definitely didn’t want to be stuck here in this mass of people. We got back to his house, and I could smell the homemade meal in the air. “You are an angel.” I muttered to Mrs. Moon as I sat down at the table.

            “I just do what I can.” She said softly, setting up plates.

            Jongup sat down next to me, sighing. “I’m not hungry, hyung.” He mumbled, and I just chuckled. “You can’t deny your mother’s great cooking, can you?” I asked, and he smiled.

            “I guess not. You only live once, right?”

            “Exactly, so eat everything you can.” I said happily. “I’ve always wanted to travel the world in a food expedition.”

            He nodded, “That would be fun.”

            “Would you like to come with me?” I asked, and he just took a minute to poke at the plate before finally responding.

            “Only if we can stop by Italy.” He whispered.

            “Himchannie always told you to go to Italy, didn’t he?” Mrs. Moon said with a smile. “He said, ‘all the famous painters start in Italy. I want you to be famous.’”

            Jongup nodded, a small smile curving on his lips. “It might not be so bad, being a famous artist.” He sighed, “But I can’t paint without inspiration.”

            “Food is a great inspiration.” I patted his back. “You’ll find plenty.”

           

            Even around dinner we talked about Himchan, the good things he did, the fun times they had. All I could do was smile, glad that Step Three was complete. There was only one more step.

            Step Four, learn to love again.

            He had to recover from his broken heart, and learn to find love again if he wanted it, find someone who can recover that happiness. You heart always feels better in the protection of someone’s hands. That’s what they told me at school, but sadly, the only thing that held my heart was food.

           

            I woke, breathing in the natural scent that came off Jongup, the one I grew to recognize and actually enjoy. He was on his back, my head on his chest. I don’t remember falling asleep like this, but people roll around, it’s what they do. His arm was around my torso, and when I tried to move, his grip tightened. “Wait until I’m awake, Dae-hyung.” He muttered, and I couldn’t stop the childish giggle that left my mouth.

            “You must be awake to be talking to me.” I chuckled.

            “Not awake enough yet.” He whispered, rolling on his side, pulling me close. “Not late enough.”

            I looked at the clock on his side table, sighing, “It’s nine, Jongup-ah. We missed breakfast.”

            “Then we’ll sleep till lunch.” He murmured, burying his face in my hair.

            “But I’m hungry.” I pleaded.

            “You’re always hungry.” He argued.

            “Food is lovely, how can I resist?” I smiled.

            “So if something is lovely, you’re gonna eat it?” He said softly, and I laughed.

            “If it’s lovely like cake, then yes.”

            “I’m lovely like cake.” He mumbled.

            “Then prepare to be the first case of cannibalism in Seoul.”

            We both laughed, and he just sat up. “Let’s go eat something, vacuum.” He groaned.

            “Vacuum?” I asked, “I’m not a vacuum.”

            “Yes you are, once food is set in front of you, you just it all up.” He laughed, and I got up and playfully pushed him.

            “Hey, only if it’s good.” I pointed in his face, chuckling.

           

            We got to a small, easy buffet. Jongup was still on his first plate when I was on my third, and he would just laugh and count the number of times I went back for the pancakes. “They’re lovely like cake, huh?” He asked, and I nodded eagerly.

            “You should get some.” I suggested, and he just reached over, biting the pancake off the chopsticks that were about to go in my mouth. I just chuckled, and he nodded in agreement.

            “They are pretty lovely.” He smiled, “Share yours with me.”

            “Go get your own!” I held my arms around my plate protectively, but he just grabbed my arms and moved them with ease, his strength too much for me to fight against. He held both my wrists in one of his hands, using the other to move a pancake from my plate to his before he let my hands go. I pouted, “Meanie.”

            “Fatty.”

            “Even bigger meanie.” I pouted even more at him.

            “Even cuter fatty.”

            “Sweet-talking meanie.”

            “Squishy, cuddly fatty.”

            “Evil meanie.”

            “Pretty-voice fatty.”

            “Hateful meanie.”

            “Precious fatty.”

            “Okay I give!” I sighed, and he just grinned victoriously. “But I do not have a pretty voice.”

            “Yes you do.” He poked my nose with his chopsticks.

            “No I don’t.” I argued. “It’s ugly in Seoul.”

            “It’s beautiful to me.” He muttered. “Kind of calming.”

            “It’s Busan.” I frowned.

            “Fatty Busan boy.” He chuckled, smiling.

            “Meanie.”

           

            We got to his house, and he just groaned. “What’s going on?” I asked, looking at the mass of cars in the driveway.

            “It’s by brother’s pity club.” He sighed. “Every Saturday they come from college to make sure his ‘heart’ is okay.”

            “You don’t like them?” I asked.

            “They don’t like me.” He said as if it was obvious.

            I just backed up the car, just driving down the Seoul streets. “Any place you’d like to go, then?” I asked, looking around at the people rushing along the downtown area.

            “Nowhere in particular.” He mumbled. “Just not home.”

            “Anywhere but your house coming up.”

 

            It was the last day of the week, and Mrs. Moon told me that Jongup was acting like his old self, which meant my mission was accomplished. He had even passed the last step, Step  4, to embrace and live life.

            Yet, why was it so hard for me to leave?

            I was packing my things, and I could tell by the look on Jongup’s face that it was hard to see me leave, too. “I’m glad I could help, Jongup-ah.” I mumbled, smiling at him. “Just remember everything I’ve told you all right?”

            He nodded, “What if I lose myself again, though?”

            “Here.” I handed him a small slip of paper, my personal number, one I never gave to anyone but my closest friends. “Only call if you really need me, okay? Otherwise, call the number your mother knows.”

            “Okay.” He mumbled.

            I hated to admit, I was going to miss Mrs. Moon’s  cooking, his arms around me as I slept, the way he clung to me, the way he laughed, the way he smiled. Jongup was a wonderful person, and I just hoped his life was fabulous even without me in it.

 

            The first month had ended, what I called the “relapse month” which the client usually called back and needed advice or anything. But I hadn’t heard from Jongup or his mother.

            It wasn’t until I was almost asleep that I heard a ring.

            Not on my professional phone.

            But the loud alarm of my personal.

            One that people called if they really needed me.

            I picked up instantly, “Are you all right?”

            There was a brief silence, and then I heard a sigh, “It’s so good to hear your voice, hyung.” I heard a soft mumbled, and I couldn’t help but smile.

            “Jongup-ah? What’s wrong?” I asked, and there was another silence.

            “Umma submitted some of my really old paintings to a college and umm, they accepted me and that’s where I am now.” He mumbled.

            “That’s great!” I smiled, “But why don’t you sound so great?”

            “They want me to paint something else, but I’ve got no inspiration, I can’t paint without inspiration.” He sighed.

            “I don’t have the money for our exhibition of food yet…” My words brought a chuckle out of him.

            “And my mind is going all kinds of places right now.” He whispered.

            “Himchan?” I asked, and there was silence.

            “Not at all.” He responded, and I just stayed silent. “All I can think about is you, hyung.”

            I felt my heart beat quicker in my chest, heat rushing to my face.

            “It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you hyung.” He whispered, “I need you now.” I heard a hiccup leave his throat. “It’s dark and cold in my dorm and I haven’t been able to sleep properly since you left.”

            “Jongup-ah…” I whispered, but he kept going.

            “I know you said not to call unless I really needed you, but I’ve lost all control.” He sighed, “And they said this would make me feel better but I just feel worse.”

            “Jongup, you’re not old enough to drink—”

            “And I just wonder if I ever cross your mind.” He mumbled, “Because for me it happens all the time.”

            “Jongup—”

            “But it’s a quarter after one, so I’ll let you go back to bed, but umm…I really need you, hyung.” He whispered, and it was then he hung up, the dial-tone ringing in my ears.

            I sighed, getting up and dialing Mrs. Moon’s number. I was pulling on a jacket as she answered, “Where does Jongup-ah go to college?” I asked. “Sorry about waking you.”

            “No problem.” She said happily, telling me the college’s name and address. I drove over immediately, asking the Dean for his room number, showing him my psychology license to make him stop yelling at me that visiting hours were over for the students.

            “I’m his doctor, he called me and said he had an issue.” I explained, and they finally let me go. I got up to his room, busting open the door. “Jongup-ah.” I called his name gently, shutting the door behind me. All I saw was a mass beneath a blanket, and bottles of whiskey and different types of alcohol beside the bed. “Jongup, Jongup.” I sighed, pulling down the blanket to see his red face, tracks of tears down his cheeks. I just pulled him into a sitting position, pulling him into my arms.

            “Hyung…” He said softly, his arms coming around me.

            “How many of those have you drunk?” I asked calmly.

            “Just one.” He sighed, “It tasted too nasty for me to get anymore.”

            “Good, don’t drink them, okay?” I whispered, and he just nodded.

            “I’m sorry to make you come all the way here.” He mumbled.

            “Don’t be.” I rubbed his back gently. “I told you to call when you really needed me, and you really need me, don’t you?”

            He sighed, “But it’s for a stupid reason.”

            “No reason is stupid.” I argued.

            “But I just want you here because I miss you.” He muttered.

            “That’s not stupid at all. Missing someone is painful, trust me, I know.” I said softly.

            “You’re all the good parts that I miss about him.” He mumbled.

            “About Himchan?” I asked shakily, almost scared to bring him up.

            But he nodded, “And there’s some things that you have he never did.”

            “Like what?” I chuckled.

            “That adorable pout.” He leaned up and poked my cheek.

            I just pouted. “It’s not adorable.

            “Yes it is.”

            “You’re being mean.”

            “How?”

            “Telling me I’m something I know I’m not.”

            “But you’re gorgeous.”

            I blushed, frowning, “But I’m not.”

            “You’re beautiful to me.” He whispered, and I just sighed and looked down. “Himchan already knew that.” He smiled, “Even if I told him he was beautiful, he already knew so it was pointless for me to tell him.”

            “That means he felt good about himself. That’s a good thing.” I chuckled.

            “But no matter what, he didn’t care if I thought he looked okay. My compliments went unnoticed.” He smiled, “But you genuinely blush when I compliment you.”

            I pouted, “So?”

            “You just haven’t been told the truth enough.” He whispered.

            I shook my head, “I didn’t come here for you to compliment me.”

            He sighed, “You came here because I missed you, and it was selfish of me to call you at such an hour.”

            “But you can’t help when you miss people.” I smiled, “I also think about you, you know.”

            “That’s because I was your client.” He looked down, “That’s all I was.”

            “Jongup-ah, if you were just a client, then why would I be missing your arms around me at night?!” I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but I just did. I was almost angry, angry that the week was over, angry that I had to leave.  “If that’s all it was, then why would I feel like crying when you cried? Why did I have this insatiable want to laugh when you did? Why would I debate calling you when I’m about to sleep just to see how you are?”

            I was interrupted by his plush lips landing on mine. All I could do was sit for a moment, knowing in my heart it was wrong, it was wrong for me to like my client. It was wrong.

            But it felt right.

            I pulled away nonetheless, “You’re drunk, you’re not…”

            “Hyung, I only had one drink, I know what the hell I’m doing.” He argued, sighing and leaning his forehead on mine. “I like you.” He bit his lip before continuing, “And I didn’t think I’d be able to do that after Himchan.”

            “Jongup-ah…” I smiled, “…is it okay if I like you back?”

            His eyes widened, and he just stared at me for a few moments before smiling back.

            “Of course.” He responded, a giggle leaving his throat.   

 

            I had to go home eventually, but Jongup never ceased to call me. Every single night before he went to bed, he called me and asked me how my day was. I would smile every time I saw his number, hear his words slurring by the end of the hour he was on the phone as sleep would overtake him. It was precious to say the least, as I heard all the little things he wouldn’t say if he was fully awake.

            Like right now, at midnight, he was still talking to me for the second hour straight. There would be rather large pauses in-between his replies, and the replies that came out were slurred. “Daehyunnie…winds blowing windy blows.” He mumbled, and I just giggled.

            “Yeah, it’s pretty windy here, too.” I muttered, “Head to sleep, Jongup-ah, you’re slurring your words again.”

            “No, no, no…” His voice was soft, “…talk to you…I want…”

            I smiled, “You can talk to me tomorrow.”

            “Talk to you now.”

            “I’m going to hang up and let you sleep.” I sighed.

            “No, don’t leave me Daehyunnie.”

            “Okay, okay.” I whispered, not being able to deny him.

            “I love you.”

            I smiled, “I know, you tell me every single night.”

            “You’re beautifully beautiful….”

            I chuckled as was beginning to make no sense again. “That’s what you think.” I replied.

            “The truth…”

            “Only in your eyes.” I argued.

            “Daehyunnie…you’ll believe me one of these days.”

            “Maybe.” I smiled, “Only if you go to sleep.”

            “All right.” He yawned, “Good night, DaeDae.”

            “Night, Jonguppie.”

            “Night, Hyunnie.”

            I chuckled at the variety of nicknames he managed to come up for me, only hanging up after I heard the dial-tone. I laid down, pulling the blanket up. “I love you, too, Jonguppie.” I whispered, knowing he only told me those words when he was half-asleep. It would probably pain him if he said it aloud, as he wasn’t completely over Himchan, I knew.

            But listening to his lazy voice was enough for me.

           

            I got up one morning in the summer, heading to another “client”. I recognized the address right away, walking in and smiling. “Yes, Mrs. Moon?” I asked loudly, and she came from the kitchen.

            “Come here, you.” She said eagerly, grabbing my hand and sitting me at the table. She passed me a plate of her homemade cheesecake, and I took a bite quickly. “Thank you, for all you could ever have done.”

            “Yeah, no problem.” I nodded.

            She was smiling wide, “You’ve done more than you could imagine. You’re a bigger part of the family than you realize.”

            I finished the cheesecake, only to feel hands on my shoulders. I tried to turn around, but a hand came over my eyes. “Who is this?” I asked with a chuckle.

            I felt lips brush along my jawline, and I just shivered. “Daehyunnie~”

            I smiled when Jongup’s smooth voice flowed in my ear. “Uncover my eyes, meanie.” I pouted, and he did, leaning around to show me his face. I caught his lips with mine, and Mrs. Moon just giggled.

            “Didn’t you have something important, Jonguppie?” She asked, and he nodded.

            “Since I’m out of school for a bit…” He began, grabbing my hand and standing me up. “…I want to ask you something.”

            “Okay?” I furrowed my eyebrows, blinking in confusion when he sunk to the ground.

            “Will you, Jung Daehyun…” He whispered, holding both of my hands. “Will you marry me?”

            I blushed, gasping and trying to find an open space in my mind to think. It was gibberish, my brain melting into goo. All I could think of was one word, and I finally got the courage to say it aloud, “Dear god, yes, Jonguppie.” I whispered, falling down and holding onto him. He giggled, holding to me tightly.

            “I love you.” He whispered, finally aloud, not half-asleep.

            I had successfully filled my mission.

            He was completely over Himchan.

            “I love you, too, meanie.” I mumbled, kissing his cheek.

THE END