Poignancy (poign·an·cy) - a state of feeling piercing distressing pain.

~

If there is one thing Jongin hates the most next to a lousy half-hearted dancer, it is the searing swelter of summer. The sunburnt smell of the asphalt road, made especially putrid by the occasional summer rains, leaves a foul fuse in his nose and a bad taste in his mouth. The humid, sticky feeling of his sweat annoys him immensely.

“Not again!” He catches his breath, thinking about the discomfort of changing shirts across the day and not having a quick shower in between.

Years of togetherness with his brother has made Jongin used to the older’s clean freak nature that he too has become obsessive compulsive to some degree.

What if he doesn’t go to school and Byun’s clinic? What if he stays at home?

These thoughts run inside his dizzy head until he spots a certain ugly corner of his room.

Distaste fills him. His laundry basket is never a sight to see, and it doesn’t help him forget the burden of washing sweat-soaked garments now that Kyungsoo is far away.

“Ugh,” he grunts as he eyes the sharp sunrays of yet again another dog day beaming from outside his window just in between the windowblinds.

Now, he has a dilemma, and mundane, it appears not to him. He hates to go out but doesn’t want to have anything to do with his piles of dirty undershirts, pants, and underwears.

“I hate summer.” These words slur from his mouth effortlessly as a frown creeps on his pained face.

On lazy summer days like this, he opts to skip class as much as he wills not to do so–– and as much as he shouldn’t. All the more, playing hooky makes summer a season of spite.

Painfully, Jongin ties his laces, ignoring the laundry deed that desperately needs some doing , as his mind wanders off to how he can let the months pass without him falling apart.

Summer to Jongin is nothing but a vicious cycle.

Nothing good ever came out of his previous summers–– and, now, Jongin is left to remember the broken pieces alone. After all, for the most part, Jongin is that 19-year-old dumbstruck kid with all the ugly scars of battles lost and not won.  

Soo-hyung,

Do you still remember what you told me on this day last year?

Well, I still do.

I chose not to hear you as I turned my back on  you for her, Summer.

And I know now how foolish it was for me, your flesh and blood, to betray you like that.

You wanted to find mom and bring dad home.

You wanted a happy family.

You wanted us to be together again. But I just laughed it off.

I laughed the thought of having a family off.

For the record, I was nowhere happy that day though.

Funny how impossible I find it each time these thoughts cross my mind.

Not only that but this letter itself I’m writing. It’s rubbish and ridiculous.

It’s way too late. Don’t you think so too?

Sometimes, I wonder if I am still hanging onto my sanity’s thread.

Am I losing it already? But does being crazy feel this much painful?

I don’t know anything anymore.

Hyung, please tell me how to forget you.

Please tell me how to be strong without you.

I can’t do this anymore.

Everything keeps playing back in my head. You, her, and me.

These nightmares, they don’t go away.

I am scared. Every single time I wake up, I am alone.

You know what? That’s the scariest part. Being alone.

There is no one else but me. There no longer is “you.”

And I end up crying because there is no longer “you” in me.

Right now, I want to forget everything. You, mom, dad, and Summer.  

Believe me, I tried but failed countless times.

It’s not the first in months when I wished I’m with you there.

I’ve thought about surrendering.

I feel tired. I’m losing grip, hyung, ‘cause life’s treating me bad.

It has never given me whatever it is that I want.

Without you, I’m left with nothing to care for but dancing. Guess what?

I am failing at it too, hyung. I’m embarrassed but it’s the truth.

My brisé has become shameful and sloppy.

Sehun and Yi Fan talked to me about taking a break this semester.

Unbelievable, right?

Yi Fan is concerned that I may flunk.

He said that Yi Xing kid, a transferee, dances with much more “bravado” than I do.

Bravado?

I don’t even know what it means,

but it sure hurt as hell being compared to a new leaf.

I don’t know if that hurts my pride more than losing my scholarship.

Even Junmyun, who we never even spoken with, is sympathizing with me.

It , right, being pitied, alone, and a mess?

I wish you were here. I miss doing the sprints and going with our barre routine.

I miss doing these with you.

Remember, you were the one who first taught me jazz and ballet?

Dad, went crazy when he found out none of us wanted to join the baseball team.

That’s probably the only summer memory I have of the three of us.

The rest is just crap worth forgetting.

I often ask myself “why does it have to be hyung?”

Why should it not have been a homeless useless person instead?

Or a criminal even? Why you, hyung? Why not me?

Then, I ask more questions than answers I get because truthfully,

I get no answers at all.

What if you didn’t die, hyung?

What would I’ve been?

What would you’ve been?

What if mom and dad never separated?

Where could we both have been?

Would we have a duo performance as we dreamed?

Would I have “bravado” then?

What if I died instead of you?

What if I were the one in the passenger seat and not you?

How would’ve you been?

Would you’ve found mom?

Would you miss me even a bit?

What if we hadn’t fought that summer?

Would we still be together?

Would we still be doing the perfect “cloche” together?

Would you help me beat the crap out of that Yi Xing kid?

And yes, sometimes, I wonder.

What if I hadn’t met Summer?

Would I’ve been a little less broken?

Would I’ve not become so selfish, so taken?

Even now, when my head clouds up with senseless thoughts like these,

I still end up breaking. Nobody understands this.

Nobody could, not unless they were you.

Look, hyung, I am still the same tiger you left.

I still need someone to tell me everything is alright.

I still want someone to give me a tap in the shoulder and a nudge at

my back whenever my wondering mind takes me elsewhere.

I still long for some nagging so I can fix my bed early and go to work

or school on time.

I never thought I’d say this, but, I miss how you make me clean

the bathroom whenever you catch me playing hooky.

It breaks my heart.

Nobody would do these things for me.

Nobody could be you.

Nobody can replace you.

And without you I am lost.

Still confused,

Kai

Tears slowly trickle down his face as he rests his pen next to his worn-out headphones. His eyes scan the letter he has written for his brother, letting the feelings linger along with his b tears. The memories of Kyungsoo and their previous summers flash right back through his troubled mind.  

The summer of 2005 marked the divorce of their parents.

He and Kyungsoo already knew their family was a bad recipe of piety waiting to happen when his father transferred to Japan to further his associate teaching career in Physics. Rumors about his father’s escapades crossed the waters. Their mother, devastated by the cheating and lies, soon lost her mind and had to be put in a mental institute.

For years, they endured contempt for their father until Mr. Kim’s second wife came in the picture. Abandoning their family so that the old man can build another could-be-broken family made it clear for both brothers.

They can’t teach the old dog a new trick.

Soon, they ran away from the paws of the man they called father before. Since then, the brothers became inseparable. Kyungsoo has been that other half to Jongin’s chopsticks, the spoon to his fork, the left to his right.

Kyungsoo is everything to Jongin as Jongin was to Kyungsoo.

For a time, Jongin didn’t believe in love and that he was capable of such until he met her that breezy summer of 2012.

Jongin can still recall vividly how he and Kyungsoo stifled a nervous breakdown at the presence of that girl, Summer–– the girl he and his brother found most beautiful, the one who smiles so bright and makes him feel warm inside, the only one he allowed to break his and Kyungsoo’s heart.

This deep reconnaissance of his wandering mind paints a bittersweet smile on his chapped lips. They really are brothers. The thought, though still vexing and hurting, absorbs him as memories of his first love start re-playing back like they were just yesterday's encounter.

“Tiger, this is Summer.” He remembers Kyungsoo saying in between nervous breath. “You can call her Summer or Noona, whichever pleases you.”

“Tiger?” The girl faced Jongin and smiled.“What a sweet name for a pretty boy like you.”

She ruffled his hair and then pinched his cheeks, making Kyungsoo laugh and Jongin's heart beat.

“Is he the brother you’ve been bragging about, Dyo?” She let out a bright heartwarming smile to Kyungsoo, the same one she shared with the fazed Jongin, before boring a hole through the younger’s soul.

“Yes. My brother. One and only.”

“I’m Natsu, a child of countless warm summers. It’s nice finally meeting you.”

“N-n-nice finally meeting you,” he chirped back, as he held his tongue, a little lost for words and enthralled by her beauty. “I’m Jongin.”

He plopped down on the couch, minding the distance between them, after a curt handshake with the pretty girl before him.

Summer inched at him and hit his arm. “Cute and shy. Just like your brother.” She walked past him and sat next to Kyungsoo.

“Don’t be fooled, Natsu. He has those cute innocent eyes, yes, but a heart of a tiger. Kai is one strong tiger with a frightening will. Bent but unbroken. That’s my brother.”

Bent but unbroken.

These words echo in the recesses of Jongin’s mind. Kyungsoo is not dead. It can’t be possible. Jongin, still in denial, wishes  for the impossible: his brother breathing. His mind stings in a likely manner his heart burns in pain.

He is startled to feel a hand lightly touch his shoulder, stirring his mind off Natsu and Kyungsoo’s memories. He quickly wipes the salty dried-up rill on the side of his cheeks and slowly raises his head to meet a stranger’s gnawing empty stare.

“Take it,” she says in cold reticence.

He blinks his eyes instead, wearing a puzzled look all over his face. “What?” Unsure if he heard her right, he repeats, “What?”

She lets out a miffed puff. “Here. Take. It.” She mouths as her lips and sad eyes point at the white handkerchief she has in the folds of her hands.

He looks around and notices there are only three people inside the café: the owner, the stranger, and him. In a moment of panic, realizing he has not gone deaf, he picks up his stuff in a quick scoop and walks past her, not giving the stranger a second look.

“Rude and broken.”

He hears her undertone, as silence rings even more deafening inside the desolated coffee shop, making his head snap back at her. Again, he meets her gaze, which remains unmoved and unfazed.

“I don’t know what your friends tell you or if you have any. But, even so, they’re wrong. People are wrong.” She moves and sticks in the white cotton fabric inside his clenched palm. “They don’t know what you’re going through. They never will. It wouldn’t hurt just now. It wouldn’t be alright. It wouldn’t be better. You wouldn’t be okay. You know why? Because nothing's gonna be the same again.”

Her words strike a matter-of-fact sensitive spot in him, making his heart feel heavier than it already is. He is once again hammered by the tender tortures of his past.

Jongin glares at her. “You’re crazy” is all that he is able to come up with as he remains shaken by her uninvited presence and the truth to every word she just said.

To which she humbly replies, “Am I? Maybe. And you're hurt, in deep pain, ain't you not?”

There is no denial nor acceptance. He trudges towards the door. He is angry but doesn’t know why. He just knows he hates that she is actually right.

That girl with eyes of sorrow, whose voice is cold, is right–– and he appreciates it not a tad bit.

...

If it has got to be and must be, it will be.

...

09.25.2013

“It's sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew.” - Henry Rollins

Ain’t it not?

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