Two days before Kyuhyun’s most-awaited ball in his entire life before he believes he’s finally going to meet the love of his life, Jongwoon is still at the university, performing the routing he practice with Kyuhyun yesterday for his Social Dance Finals exam.

One day before the Thanksgiving Ball, Jongwoon is aware of the multiple messages and calls he’s been getting from both Joohyun and Sooyoung, asking him what he’ll wear, where and when they’ll meet because they’ve all agreed to go to the Thanksgiving Ball together but Jongwoon’s only aware of it. He hasn’t seen or received any of it because his cellphone is turned off and he’s not opening his Facebook at home. As far as Jongwoon is concerned when he’s at home, he is only at home, not anywhere else. Even his mind can’t even be somewhere else because they’ll know.

Now, Jongwoon wants to go to the Thanksgiving Ball. He wants to. He really, really wants to but the ball is starting at seven in the evening and it’s already five but Jongwoon still hasn’t gotten his parents’ permission to let him go to the ball.

On the other hand, Kyuhyun is already tying his blue tie and putting wax on his brown, slightly messy hair, anxious that time is running and the sooner he’ll get to the ball, the sooner he’ll meet Jongwoon and they’ll have more time to spend with each other.

Back to Jongwoon, he walks through their huge, huge (and I mean huge! Three airplanes could have fit in their house and nobody outside would know.) mansion and looks for his parents. There’s only enough light in the hallways to let you see where you’re walking, but never enough light to see your destination. There house is big, but Jongwoon always knows where to find his parents.

In her room.     

He’s got to try. Jongwoon knows he’s got to try even though deep down, he knows it will be futile. He knows it will be meaningless and he knows, deep down, Jongwoon has already accepted that he’ll not be meeting Kyuhyun as Jongwoon that night.

Jongwoon peeks through Hyesung’s room and sure enough, he sees his mother sitting on a rocking chair near the window, humming something inaudible and blankly staring outside to God-knows-what-is. Jongwoon sees his mother but he can’t see his father.

“Jongwoon-ah,” his father’s low voice surprised Jongwoon that he almost jumps but he hasn’t lived life like this in the dark for three years for nothing. He’s used to it; he’s used to this. And he hates it. “Is something wrong?”

“Appa,” Jongwoon says, trying to contain the calmness in his voice as he breathes out and looks at his father’s eyes. They are tired and they are blank, just like her mother’s, and Jongwoon knows his father is doing nothing more than staring right pass him. He doesn’t know when was the last time his father has truly looked at him or if he ever did. “Can I ask you something?”

His father smiles a fatherly smile but again, there is nothing in it but plain movement of the lips that his father is used to in dealing with business. There’s no endearment, no longing, and no love. “What is it?”

“I need to go to this ball at school,” Jongwoon starts, directing to the point, because for the past three years, pushing around the bushes didn’t take him anywhere as much as (sometimes) direct to the point did.

But there’s sometimes there for a reason. Right after saying that, his father glowered at him, grabbed his shirt and pushed him to the wall. Hissing, to keep his wife from hearing, “What did you say? Don’t you know what day it is? Don’t you know, Jongwoon-ah?”

Jongwoon knows. Goddamn it, of course, he knows.

It’s her birthday. It’s Hyesung’s birthday.

“I know today is Hyesung-noona’s birthday, appa,” Jongwoon begins saying, fear obvious in his eyes as he struggles to breathe because of his father’s tight hold of his shirt, almost lifting his feet from the ground. But before he can continue, his father cuts him again,

“Then why are you asking to go somewhere else?! We’re going to celebrate, Jongwoon-ah! Don’t we always celebrate?” his father smiles maniacally at him, and his father’s eyes glistens and Jongwoon knows – he is sure – that one wrong move, one wrong statement, he’s going to get it again. The beating… The bruises… The wounds…

The pain…

“I – I’m just wondering, appa,” Jongwoon says, almost gagging, fear overtaking the courage in him when he decides that no matter what he’ll meet Kyuhyun tonight. But Jongwoon remembers everything, slap on his face, punch on his stomach and kicks on every angle of his unwounded, yet, body, whenever he defies it.

Kyuhyun’s face flashes in Jongwoon’s mind, his pretty, brown eyes, his messy chestnut hair and his white, porcelain face. Jongwoon imagines Kyuhyun in a black suit, with a blue tie because Jongwoon thinks blue suits Kyuhyun the most. He imagines Kyuhyun walking to him, asking him who he was. He imagines Kyuhyun asking he to dance with him and he imagines dancing with Kyuhyun until the ball ends.

Jongwoon imagines, and smiles pitifully, before shutting his eyes, vanishing every single thought about him. It’s better like this, Jongwoon thinks. This is better. This is safer.

His father puts him down and taps Jongwoon’s back. “There’s no need to wonder, Jongwoon-ah,” his father tells him, smiling at Jongwoon. “Our celebration for Hyesung’s birthday is more important.”

Jongwoon nods, like a robot.

“Now, go get dressed before showing yourself to your mother.”

Jongwoon nods again, like a robot in program of nodding and agreeing to everything his father tells him. He turns his back on his father and proceeds on the other end of the hallway, not in his room but in the room besides his, where he’s supposed to get dressed before showing himself to his mother, or rather before letting his mother see him.

He enters the password to the room. The room is much, much bigger than his room. It’s got a revolving clothes-hanger, a walk-in wardrobe for the shoes and it’s got two dozens of cabinets to hold clothes in it. The room also has an accessories section which contains jewelry pieces such as bracelets, necklaces, earring and rings. From an average person’s point of view, the room can already be considered a boutique.

But it’s not a boutique. It’s Hyesung’s wardrobe.

Jongwoon can’t tell anymore if he’s already numb (but he can’t be because he’s still feeling butterflies on his stomach whenever he’s with Kyuhyun) or if he doesn’t mind this now (but that’s not true because pretending to be her is the most bothersome and an everyday trauma for Jongwoon) but Jongwoon walks through the room and picks clothes that he’ll wear for that night, not for the Thanksgiving Ball but for Hyesung’s birthday celebration.

He takes off all his clothes and closes his eyes as he wears her clothes, starting from her undergarments, the red dress with ruffles and ribbons at the back that has always been her favorite, white stocking and white cardigan and black, leather shoes. He opens his eyes and looks at the full-size mirror surrounding the room if you open all the wardrobes.

I really do look like you, noona.

Jongwoon almost smiles but he knows, his situation isn’t even near in one who calls for smiling.

He picks one of the wigs that have been set out for him, a long, black one with side-swept bangs. He walks to get proper accessories to compliment her dress and proceeds on the makeup cabinet. Putting the hairclip on the wig, locking the earrings and the necklace and applying foundation, some mascara and lipgloss to himself, he closes his eyes and tries to get through this one more time. When he opens his eyes, Kim Jongwoon is gone.

“Welcome back,” Jongwoon says, smiling brightly at the mirrors, reflecting everything but bliss and nothing but melancholy, “Kim Hyesung.”