6th June 2013;

 

"You're finally finishing high school and you will go to Hong Kong like you always wanted, sweetheart!" his mother told him as she was kissing his cheek lovingly, helping him with his tie. His last days of being in a high school, his last days of being tortured by that dirt that he was forced to call as classmates. He was finally free from everything, and ready to fly to another four years of studying, but in a place he only knew Kim Jongdae, his Korean seat-mate.

 

"Thanks mom for this sublime and inspiring words you've told me today," her son, ZiTao, laughed as he stared in front of the mirror, titling his head from side to side, turning his head to the left and to the right, raising his chin from time to time, a finger tracing his sharp jaw line. "Do I look good for today, mom?"

 

"You do, stop bothering about your looks and just go have fun with your friend." she laughed, pushing ZiTao out on the door of their small house. "You should be grateful that I'm not coming to take pictures like I promised, but something's urgent at work and I can't take a day off, you know and you understand."

 

ZiTao rolled his eyes, smiling like an idiot at his mother before kissing her cheek, bidding her a short "good-bye" followed by his mother's wishes for a good day, walking on the hallway to the lift, placing his headphones on, turning on his iPod. Good music and beats have made ZiTao stronger though those hell years of high school, killing him inside when he couldn't have his dear phone.

 

Thinking of those times, ZiTao sighed loudly as he pressed the button for the parking lot, waiting as the lift took him down to his own car. For example, in ninth grade, he openly talked with his friend, Kim Jongin about him being gay. His classmates heard him and of course, spread the rumors of him ing with other guys in toilets, which made the young ZiTao angry. In the last course of a Friday, ZiTao snapped and beat the bully, making him the "bully" of the class. No one ever dared to touch him or to speak to him in an unpleasing way, ever. Even if that happened, a lot of low-class girls, which he preferred to call instead of , bad mouthed him and tried to pull pranks on him, without any success because ZiTao was awfully quiet and deadly, Jongdae knew.

 

With time, ZiTao became more open, more exactly in eleventh grade when his "soul mate" friend, Park Chanyeol slapped him into the reality of humans, dragging him almost everywhere. Such good times, he'd say here and then while they were slowly watching a movie or just simply lazing around on Chanyeol's couch -a habit that they have developed with the time as they spent together.

 

And now here he was, standing in front of Jongdae's car, grinning like an idiot. He didn't have enough money to buy his own car even though he had a license. Jongdae, as always, laughed it off whenever ZiTao would whine about not having a car, calling him a weirdo and pull off to school.

 

"I swear I feel like a girl that has her boyfriend to drive her!" he complained once again, kicking his legs childishly as he held on the backpack like his life depended on it.

 

"Mhm, now tell me about that guy, ZiTao."

 

"What guy." Jongdae stopped, raising an eyebrow at his best friend. "Don't play dumb, you . I'm talking about the mysterious Wu YiFan."

 

"Ohh...”

 

"Yeah, ohh."

 

"Nothing about him, we're in a relationship." ZiTao shrugged, making Jongdae choke on his cup of coffee freshly bought from Starbucks before coming and take the younger to the school. The younger laughed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "What?"

 

Jongdae coughed a few times again before flipping the whole world in front of ZiTao. "You know him for two ing days, ZiTao. Two ing days!"

 

An eyebrow arched on ZiTao's forehead as he watched Jongdae rant about how unhealthy it was to have such relationship and how hurt he'd come after. He didn't listen though. He was happy that way with his new boyfriend, smiling to himself whenever he thought about the amounts of compliments thrown at him in just two days. "He told me things that a lot of people thought opposite of, Dae."

 

"Like what?" the older groaned, turning on the engine and finally stepping on the pedal to go to the ceremony for the last day of high school, before the summer can finally start. This year the education system of China went a bit crazy about their final exams, placing them in the middle of May and April, exactly around his birthday which made him pretty upset about his 20th birthday.

 

 "That I'm beautiful?"

 

Jongdae face-palmed, choosing not to believe what his friend was telling him. It was a joke, right? The younger couldn't be serious about this. He was, indeed a beautiful person with his now dyed blonde hair and several piercings in his ears, with his sharp jaw line and his beautiful cat-like eyes.

 

"And you think you're not?"

 

"Nope." ZiTao smiled, looking at Jongdae with a pair of serious eyes despite his lips which were curved into a sweet, friendly smile. "Whenever I was told, I never believed it, but he makes me believe his words."

 

"You're dumb."

 

"That's love, baby." ZiTao laughed, taking his phone out and browsing on his Facebook for Kris' profile before poking Jongdae's side, making him jump in his seat, yelling at the Chinese boy that he was an idiot because he might get both of them killed for no reason, or the foolish attempt of showing the picture of this mysterious Kris.

 

"I refuse to think he's real."

 

"But he is!"

 

"Hmm." Jongdae played along, rolling his eyes and stopping in front of the semaphore, yawning."If you think he's real, then okay..."

 

ZiTao pouted, shooting a short glare at his friend before sticking his tongue out, continuing to browse the photos that his new lover, the mysterious WuFan posted on his own Facebook. There were few pictures, four to be exact. The one that he had at his profile, one while playing basket with his friends, another one from a date and the last one being quite old, from 2010 when he had long hair, tied nicely in a ponytail, reading a magazine. ZiTao smiled as he looked at the beautiful features before looking up at Jongdae, scanning the surroundings, knowing that they were almost at their destination.

 

There were no words shared between the two till they reached the gates, Jongdae only focusing on driving them safely to school. He didn't believe in this YiFan, or he just simply didn't want. Not that he was trying to make ZiTao sad, but Jongdae had a feeling that ZiTao was foolishly throwing himself in a relationship that did no good in the end, bringing him only pain. Sighing, he looked for his usual spot, seeing that it was still empty. He always loved the spot hidden between two large trees that scared the principal greatly. He was told to move his car several times so they can cut the trees, but he never did as he was told, every morning parking his car in the same spot, even leaving his car purposely for the whole day and taking the bus or subway back home, only to annoy the people there.

 

"Last day, huh?" Jongdae suddenly heard a new voice, snapping his head to the side to see who ZiTao was talking to; their friend who had to repeat one year, Jongin, the school's wild child.

 

"Well, yeah." ZiTao scratched his head, opening the car's door and throwing himself at Jongin, hugging him tightly. "I'll miss you. But I have to tell you now-"

 

"I saw it on Facebook, congrats. Where is he from?" Jongin smirked, leaning against Jongdae's car before making a "hi" sign to Jongdae who just rolled his eyes because he was being noticed only now.

 

"Canada. But he was born in Guangzhou." ZiTao smiled, nodding proudly to himself for knowing information about his new boyfriend.

 

"Canada is far away from here..." Jongin groaned, throwing his backpack on the ground to properly hug the other.

 

ZiTao raised an eyebrow again. "Excuse me, wasn't that Russian boy, Val, your long distance relationship lover?" he groaned, punching Jongin's shoulder with all his force, only to get back an equally powerful punch by his tan friend with a face of a God.

 

"Such a dummy, we broke up." the tanned boy said as a matter of fact, not even caring to speak about the boy who was already a boring subject for him. "You should just stop bothering me about this, and go to your boring graduation . I'll go rob someone for a cigarette. See ya. Oh, and Jongdae, you spilled some of your coffee on your suit's jacket. Adios, whoresos." he laughed, picking up his backpack and walking like a ing God to some of the kids from his class that were talking with the ninth grades, to get himself a cigar.

 

Jongdae, who was always obsessed about his clothes, turned to his car, looking in the window from the passenger's seat. "He's right! I got dirty! I can't go like this. Oh god, I'm going to die!"

 

"You can take it off, Dae. It's not glued on your ing body." ZiTao mumbled under his breathe as he walked towards the auditorium where the speech for all seniors that have successfully graduated the school was being hold.

 

**

 

"You're back!" his mother smiled, welcoming her big baby with open arms, hugging him as tightly as she could when she came back.

 

"Mom, no. You're the one back. I was here since 5 p.m..." he laughed, turning his head to the screen to see what the other have typed in the meantime, smiling to himself and rolling his eyes at the cheesy comment.

 

My mom has done it too. It's like a germ for the mothers, I swear.

Never going to understand it, tho. I mean, I have graduated kindergarten and she didn't squeal as much as she did when I finished high school. Its kinds upsetting tho...I mean, it was my first graduation!

But she's mom. And your mom acts like mine's. See? We're meant for each other because moms.

 

ZiTao's mother pecked his head. "Who are you talking to?"

 

"A friend?"

 

"Is this the mysterious WuFan that I have seen that you're in a relationship with?" She laughed, ruffling his hair. She was a bit of a homophobic and ZiTao knew it. As long as he was happy, she accepted everything even though she didn't really wanted to meet the person who has changed her son's ual preferences. But she already has met JiHo, a Korean-Japanese boy that ZiTao loved very much in his early teenage years. She was so pissed off those times, but she understood why ZiTao came up like that. He never had a masculine model in his life that he should have talked about his "catches".

 

"You're...not mad?" he quietly questioned as he pressed the send button to his very own reply to everything that WuFan have wrote to him via Facebook.

Oh shut up, you. Mom will squeal at everything. And I mean everything.

 

Like what?

 

ZiTao groaned, snapping his back up to look at his mother who was still petting his hair and reading with such interest their not-so-private anymore conversation. "Uhh...If you ask, you do squeal at everything that is happening around me."

 

"I do not."

 

"You do, mom. Don't lie to yourself." He laughed, typing again.

 

She's watching your , young man.

 

She's the chair? I'm sitting on your mother, I am deeply sorry TaoZi.

 

Shut it, she's behind me

 

Ooh, so...I'm behind you too, watching you and holding you from my own "TaoTao's mother" chair?

 

Shut itttt.

 

Make me.

 

Go awai.

 

Nope.

 

Mean.

 

Only for you.

 

"What a funny conversation you have there...But since when do you know this young boy? I got no time to stalk his Facebook." she laughed, walking towards ZiTao's bed and sitting on it, one leg on top of the other, her hands resting on the very top of her knees.

 

"Two days ago. He's a marine student. We met on a group for 'Asian teens' or whatever it's called...'A.T.L' which stands for...Asian Teen Life or something." ZiTao sighed, spilling everything to his dear mother. He hardly could lie to his mother when it came to someone he liked, knowing that she could always pull off that smile that made ZiTao laugh for hours and never stop; which was his weakness when was lying.

 

"More information?"

 

"He's born in China. Guangzhou to be exact but moved to Canada because of his parents. He's happy there and knows English. We actually talk in English since I'm having troubles to talk to him in not so Qingdao accented Chinese. He's twenty-two, by the way."

 

"Not too old, that's good. I thought he was 27 or something."

 

"Mom!" he whined, kicking his long legs on the floor, actually pushing back his chair and hitting the desk. "You're so weird." he shouted, slapping his palms over his face, embarrassed. Why would he go out with someone that was clearly older than him with more than three years? It would be a crime to his own social life to go out with someone that knew more about relationships and even , and could make his life a fiasco.

 

"I beg your pardon. I am not weird, ZiTao. I'm just trying to take off a stone off my chest." she laughed dearly, changing the left leg for the right one, now supporting her chin on her palm, tapping her long nails on her exposed thigh. "If you're going to marry someone much older than you, like your aunt, you're not my baby anymore."

 

ZiTao's lips curved down, his eyebrows knitting together and looking at his mother with sad eyes. "What? You're going to kick out of your life your only sunshine because I'm marrying in the future a man that is eleven years older?"

 

"Well if he's rich then I might do an exception..."

 

The boy gasped, throwing his arms in the air. "Why would I marry a poor guy if he's old and dying? To have his poodle on my bed everyday and remind me that he got germs to share with me?"

 

"ZiTao, don't speak like this with me!"

 

"Sorry, mom. But seriously. If I were to do such thing, I'd obviously marry someone rich, who has no poodles or cats or pigs or animals. Usually, from the movies, the animals get the money and I just get the opportunity to slave myself to a pig." he groaned, moving his chair back to the computer, seeing that Kris was offline, a little message sent right before he went offline.

 

I have to go. Test tomorrow. everything. And I mean everything. You included. Or not. I don't know.

Loveyou. <3

 

His space-bar broke again, the blonde boy thought to himself, groaning as he typed up his reply:

 

Yeah, yeah. Just take a huge A for me, or you're going to see stars when we meet. You know I took wushu for years, right? Huaaa!

 

**

 

As the night begun to fall over Qingdao, ZiTao was making weird faces at the camera with his best friend, Park Chanyeol. The latter was always in a good mood for his best friend, and always ready to slap some senses into the panda-boy if he had any weird thoughts to start his day with. They were friends for almost ten years now and they knew more things that even siblings would share between themselves.

 

"Chan, I told you...I know what I'm doing with Kris!"

 

"Oh really now. I'm going to beat your , his and my mom's if you break up with him and tell me it was his fault or your fault for being in such rushed relationship." Chanyeol's deep voice echoed the room though the laptop's speakers, making ZiTao groan in annoyance. That ing voice was killing him since they were in the puberty days, and he can only say a thing: Mother Nature sculpted him and Chanyeol perfectly. If he'd look now at his baby pictures, or his pre-teen pictures, when his first mustache appeared, he'd probably pour acid on his eyes.

 

"Shut up."

 

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up. You're going for Hong Kong in two weeks, right? God, I'm going in South Korea~ Home sweet home."

 

"Go away. And yes, I'll be leaving in two weeks then fly to South Korea to keep you company during the summer since Jongdae and his parents choose a really great opportunity...to leave for Greece in his summer."

 

"Say what? Greece? Europe? Da-haa-mn!" Chanyeol groaned, clapping his hands. "The only vacation I got to Europe was when I was in the training camp in Paris!"

 

"I have never been to Europe before..." Tao mumbled under his breathe, his face visibly dropping.

 

"We'll go together when we'll have money!"

 

Tao rolled his eyes, raising an eyebrow at Chanyeol. "Are you stupid? We're not going to find the perfect jobs with endless money as payment from the first try."

 

"I know, but we're not going to starve either. There are a lot of people on the streets, crying for help instead of doing something."

 

"Oh shut it, those people are plain stupid because they're young but messed up their lives with drugs and now they want money for more drugs."

 

 

 

 

8th June 2013;

 

 

 

You know, I seriously thought you're 24 or something...

 

Do I really look that old?

And yes, you're pretty.

 

Uhh, nooo. You look your age but your profile pic...I was just putting a random age on your face, sorry. ;;

 

Tao groaned, looking at the screen, shaking his head. WuFan wasn't that old! For the love of his panda plush toys, the man he was in a relationship with was screaming the words "hot", "gorgeous", "model" and "-God" (not that Tao would ever admit that he just called his boyfriend a "-God"). Zitao…? He was just called pretty by his obviously gorgeous Chinese-God and he just didn't know what to do, or say. Should he thank him? Should he act modest? He didn't know.

 

Thanks, I guess. Hey, tell me facts about yourself.

 

Kris is typing...

 

Uhh, I don't really know. I had a love for few years and I courted him for a couple but he in the meantime died.

 

I'm sorry...

 

's okay. I also wanted to take medicine but mom pushed me to marine so here I am.

 

Oooh. Mom said I can do what the I want after arts. I actually wanted to take medicine too, but I'm way too lame for biology so I'm going to keep up with my wild artistic side.

 

That's cute.

 

No, you're cute.

 

You're my everything. <3

 

ZiTao stopped with his hands few millimeters away from the keyboard, his mouth dropping at the sentence he just have read. He was what? It was just the second day of the relationship and they he was saying what? That was, indeed, something that ZiTao couldn't think of coming in such short time.

 

Well...OMG did you just really said that?

 

Yeap. <3

 

On the other side of the world, which was really far away from where ZiTao was currently having his place at, WuFan smiled to himself, waiting for another message to pop up while he was -with a lot of effort, trying to complete his work for the next day, to hand it and finally be free to handle the exams before summer officially would start for him too. Or not. He believed that finishing the first year of marine would be enough proof for his dear mother to reconsider him, changing to the medicine.

 

And his mother, surprisingly, agreed. If he'd get perfect scores at the exams, he may proceed to take exams to change colleges. It was hard, though and WuFan was risking loosing everything that he was trying to build between him and his new lover, ZiTao.

 

"Damn it," he mumbled to himself, seeing the giant line that he accidentally made with his pencil over the title of his essay. Furiously turning his head to the left and right in searching for an eraser, the laptop's sound of a new message made him forget about the damn line.

 

That's the cutest thing that someone has ever told me. You're so cheesy; Kris, but I love you.

 

He smiled to himself. His heart was beating fast, his ears only being able to hear the drums that were making such a big noise in all of his body, his palms sweating. Love. Such a big and meaningful word that sometimes was used for nothing but lying the person you just know that your love was consumed on.

 

Iloveyoutoo.

 

He typed, his hands trembling onto the keyboard as he felt like a teenage girl, squealing for those simple three words that were spoken between the two, virtually.

 

Did your space-bar break?

 

Maybe.

 

Loveyoutoo.

 

Yours?

 

I got no space for anything else but my love for you. :)

 

ZiTao, on the other side of the screen, face-palmed. He just couldn't believe that he wrote the cheesiest sentence that ever existed, towards his boyfriend. He felt stupid for doing so, but he just had to write it. It was screaming for him to write it, as much as his mother was screaming now for him to go help her.

 

Be right back, mom.

 

He typed hurriedly before pushing the chair back, standing up and running towards the kitchen, where his mom was always sitting with her laptop while cooking or preparing her things for work. She loved that kitchen more than anything, just like ZiTao loved his bed and own computer.

 

The sound of the boy's feet hitting the wooden floor were loud and clear, indicating that he was getting closer to the kitchen, to help his mom. His bare feet ached when he suddenly stopped, feeling his feet burn under the wood as he leaned on the door frame, trying to catch his breathe, his vision getting a bit blurry. "Yes, mom?"

 

"How do you post something on Facebook, from someone else's page?" his mother asked, clueless about the miracles that the internet bought.

 

Groaning, ZiTao peeled himself off the wall, feeling dizzy for a couple of seconds, his balance failing to cooperate with the rest of his limbs, making him fall on the ground and make his mother gasp in surprise and shock. Sighing, the young boy slowly pushed his upped body up, smiling at his mother. "I'm okay, no worry or wild gasps. Oh, and the said magic thing that you're asking about, it's called 'share' and it's under a picture or status you would like to post on your own timeline, without copy-pasting it."

 

 

 

 

21st June 2013;

 

Zitao knew, that waiting would just rip him away from his own reality, Jongin's words marking him as they chatted on Skype.

 

"He is not real, understand that, Zitao. It's just some internet boyfriend you have. Nothing real." the latter spoke lazily into the microphone as he was chewing on his popcorn while watching a movie with his older step-brother, Taemin.

 

"Its not." the younger briefly defended his relationship, leaning on his best friend for some kind of soothe as he was arguing about his love life. Why was Jongin so interested in this matter, anyway? Just because his own relationship did not work, why would he just crush hopes?

 

"Stop lying to yourself, you little...You're young and you take life so easily..." Jongin mumbled.

 

"Like you. How can you say that? You were the one crying over a ing drawing." Chanyeol roared into the microphone, obvious venom-spitted words making Jongin gasp in surprise. Chanyeol just growled, hugging his best friend tighter as Zitao just looked lifelessly out on the window, not caring too much anymore.

 

Wufan is real, he thought to himself. He must be real. He promised he'll make a video for me, soon.

 

Jongin rolled his eyes, looking straight at the camera. "Chanyeol, why are you so eager to be part of this conversation? You're as immature as Zitao. I'm sick of this child who helplessly follows anyone who sits in front of him, to good or bad. He should learn how to live, not how to follow orders. He's not a slave, owned by someone. He's a ing grown up man."

 

"And if his personality is like that, why are you trying to change him so much? To be a what? A hopping from to like you, only to get out money since your mother is sick of you to have you around her? Is that something that you would want to happen to Zitao? To learn how to to produce money? No thank-you." Chanyeol argued back.

 

"I don't feel well," Zitao mumbled, looked up at his best friend.

 

"That's because you're a ing hypochondriac, you dumb child." Jongin laughed, the sound of high fiving Taemin echoing the room.

 

"Really now?" Chanyeol laughed, accepting the call from Leo who wanted so badly to join the conversation.

 

"Oh God, Leo. Why are you here too? To see me humiliating a hypochondriac a.k.a Zitao?" Jongin laughed, holding his stomach now.

 

"Says the one with fake illnesses and children with demons." Leo sighed, smiling at Zitao. Stretching his hands in front of the camera, Leo smiled. "Hugs for our little Tao!"

 

**

 

During the day, ZiTao felt himself being ripped from the reality most of the time, starring into the space and thinking, for long minutes, what he was supposed to in the past five hours, but he forgot, completely within ten minutes. He felt distant from everything that was around him, and it was getting annoying for him, to come up with headaches every hour while trying to remember simple deeds that he had to do around the house.

 

Eventually, he wrote himself a list, with the help of the chat he left open for him and Chanyeol, explaining him everything. On the following list, which contained:

 

-clean the room (doing this the millionth time this month, because we have to make it perfect before I leave)

-going out to buy groceries (or more like junk food)

- do the laundry (mom please, I'm not a girl)

- prepare the folder for the uni

-get a life (with Chanyeol)

- organize your computer

- do some more cleaning around the house

-prepare dinner

 

ZiTao found himself forgetting to do more than half of the points before his mother came back, the poor woman starving as her son was forced to hurriedly go to the grocery and buy some chicken for the dinner. He was so dizzy. He took four pills, at the hours indicated on the said paper, after he calculated the time and put the alarms in his phone, yet nothing too interesting or life-changing happened.

 

It was annoying, for him, to have a sudden dizzy state, but it happened a lot in the past years. He hated it though. It happened for a few days, followed by severe headaches and losing his balance for a few moments. He just wanted to sit in bed in those situations, crying his pain out until he would pass out and wake up like a newborn baby, with no problems or stress surrounding him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes sleep was torturing him even more.

 

His mother, as always would try to give him medicines to keep his headaches away, sometimes not good enough for him so he just ended up passing out on the bed for a couple of hours, making her worried sick. She wasn't that old, but she was always overprotective about everything that ZiTao did in his life. She didn't want to control his teen years, trying to give him as much freedom as he needed, yet she controls him enough not to do anything stupid like drugs.

 

He was happy with his life, for now. He had his best friend and his boyfriend. Everything was absolutely perfect.

 

 

 

27th June 2013;

 

"I've started a small, really small, notebook for Kris," ZiTao grinned, holding up the pink notebook, in his both hands, showing it to Chanyeol as they sat together at a table in the crowded Starbucks, in Hong Kong. Chanyeol came after his best friend, obviously to support him and give him strength. He knew how possessive Jongdae would get over ZiTao, and he really had no intention on trying to lose the younger for someone that ZiTao knew for a couple of years.

 

"It's pink, Tao. Pink." Chanyeol scrunched his nose, opening his book that he was reading, taking a pen from his backpack and drawings lines here and there on a paper at the table.

 

"I know, I hate it too! But they had no other colors to give me for this type of notebook...With a bow, a cute bow! Lockets and keys might break so...it's better this way." the blonde boy whimpered in disgust over the color as he eyed the drawings made quickly by the older.

 

"Does it look okay?"

 

"Mhm."

 

**

 

Two days later, WuFan sat into his chair, waiting. For a reply, for his mother to call him to dinner and his files to be printed. Waiting meant patience. WuFan most of the time had none of it. Not even a drop of patience. If he wanted something, he'd get that as fast as he could, any method used.

 

His printer suddenly stopped, beeping. The file was ready to be taken out. It was one of ZiTao's new drawings that WuFan insisted to have into his room. It was a portrait; his portrait. More like a beautiful painting that was just freshly pulled out from a Nikon camera, which impressed him dearly.

 

ZiTao possess so much talent into his hands that Kris was almost jealous. When he was younger, he'd call himself 'Krisasso', a combination of Kris and Picasso, taking it very seriously as he was drawing -like a baby- animals and humans. Now, seeing his boyfriend's breathtaking drawings, he was jealous. So jealous.

 

You're jelly, Krissie?

 

WuFan whined. Damn right, he was so jealous that he'd bite ZiTao's lip and never let him go until he'd learn to do such things too.

 

No.

 

He replied, as a simple lie, his face now red. He hated to lie to ZiTao, but that? Oh no, he just couldn't show his jealous side-

 

And I'm Queen Elizabeth. You're cute when you're jelly-belly. 

You should try drawing me next time.

 

I refuse.

 

Oh why~? Are you afraid that I'm going to laugh at your kindergarten drawings, Krissie-pissie?

 

Oh my god, Taozi, shut it.  I'm not drawing like a 3 y.o.

 

Says the 3 y.o...

 

GO AWAY.

 

Hey, that's my line, Pissie.

 

And?

 

Don't use it.

 

ZiTao rolled his eyes playfully, shuffling in his room to get his charcoal and sketchbook, looking at the skull by the window. He had to draw it; forty poses. He sighed. He didn't like to draw something so lifeless; it was like drawing a dead flower, no emotion at all. Even those big statuettes were more exciting or their faces were happy than this. It made him feel horrible about everything.

 

Lines after lines, ZiTao sketches successfully everything, typing in the same time on his laptop to WuFan, laughing like an idiot in front of his screen when the other would crack a joke here and there, the fun sentences squeezed between cheesy lines and serious boyfriend-boyfriend talks.

 

**

 

 

 

July 2013;

 

The hottest month of summer was being cruel to everyone. There was so much sun and fried skin that ZiTao thought that he would see his life end in one of the hot days. But now, he was in a hotter country, because of Chanyeol.

 

Since Jongdae went for Europe in the summer, Chanyeol got himself worked up to get ZiTao one hell of a summer, dragging him all the way to Thailand, to enjoy three days of a perfect, hot country. ZiTao hated it. He was going to start his "school" in few weeks, how could he have such fun? He wanted to stay at home and talk to WuFan, but the older was now busy with his papers, the ones that the blonde boy was so curious about but never got any response at his questions.

 

"We're going to eat all this junk food, and go to spa and do random s here and there." Chanyeol babbled, not even caring that the younger boy was lost in his thoughts while watching the clouds. "Are you listening, lover boy?" the older groaned, poking the younger's head -which such force that Zitao actually hit his head in the small window, squinting his eyes.

 

"What? Yeah. Junk-food. Yeppie."

 

Though, the excitement in Zitao's voice shut Chanyeol completely, for the rest of the plane-ride leaving him all sulking while reading a magazine, in which his favorite Korean pop band, TVXQ, were mentioned. Chanyeol immediately glued himself to the magazine like his life depended on it. Zitao finally chuckled at the action, taking out his iPod to listen to music. He never left China, and the first time he did, it was now with Chanyeol.

 

At first, he imagined that he will go out in a vacation with his mother in a foreign country or just around Beijing, since he never been there. Yet, Beijing came to him at the age of twelve, when LuHan came into the picture, Chanyeol's first best friend. Zitao, when he and Chanyeol first met, he thought that the older was a horrible, selfish with a boosting ego dude that only wanted to be friends with people like him because it would made him cool. Same for the Beijing boy.

 

Now, they were the trio. "ChanTaoHan", Luhan would chant while being drunk, earning either a slap from Zitao or a kick from Chanyeol.

 

**

 

Wufan groaned, looking at the sales lady with a little pout forming on his full lips. He can't believe that his plan was going to be flushed down the toilet. He had to do something for that.

 

"A...little discount?" he tried, battling his eyelashes at her, almost shoving his face into hers only to get the price more affordable than this. everything; he thought when the lady shook her head, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Do you expect me to give you one little discount when you ask me to engrave the golden rings as well? You know how much does one gram of gold cost nowadays? You have to be a ing queen to buy this. And you're not, Asian boy. If you do want to buy them, work. That's why you were born Asian, to have brains."

 

"Racist," he mumbled under his breathe, checking the price of the golden rings once again. 2,995$ for something so tiny and perfect without adding engravings on the two. It was horrible. How can he buy them in such short time, before Christmas?

 

Wufan's plan, initially, was to buy the rings for Christmas, fly in Hong Kong -God knowing where the plane ticket money would come from- and give them to Zitao by spending the magical winter together, before he had to come back.  But now, his plan was really going down the toilet, and he had to do something.

 

Sighing, he thanked the lady before going out, taking his phone out, looking at the expensive, brand new iPhone. He can sell it. He can sell and get money for his boyfriend, so he can do such beautiful things. He can perfectly go sell it now!

 

 

**

 

Days passed, Zitao was having the time of his life with Chanyeol in Thailand, eating everything he could. His excitement for the new things he could try being bigger now as he was in front of them, inspecting everything and most importantly drooling over the table as the smell invaded his mind.

 

Though, he wasn't okay. And Chanyeol could just hold his breathe whenever Zitao took the knife, almost injuring himself when it just slipped off his hand, the blade hitting his thigh -successfully not producing any harm. Chanyeol was worried. No, beyond that word. He couldn't look at it, yet he had to do something.

 

"Put that down," he finally groaned, slapping the younger's hands -actually not slapping, hitting thin air. "Now."

 

"Why?"

 

Chanyeol groaned, taking the knife by the blade, forcing it out of Zitao's hands, hissing in pain when the blade cut into his skin, making a little wound in his palm. Putting the knife down, the older just took a napkin, his face showing no emotion as he wrapped the napkin around his palm, taking once again the knife and Zitao's plate, to cut the pieces.

 

"You don't have to do that..." Zitao mumbled, shyness taking over as he just sat there, with his hands on his knees, waiting like a little baby for his mother to finish cutting the pieces so he can eat.

 

"It's almost obvious that you can't hold a knife, Zi. I can't let you hurt yourself."

 

"But you hurt yourself now..."

 

"And?"

 

"I don't want you hurt either."

 

"I don't care about myself when you look like you're dying right now." the older spoke, putting the plate back in front of Zitao, now continuing to eat his own meal, checking his palm for any severe wounds.

 

**

 

It continued the other days too. Zitao would spend his days in the hotel, enjoying only the room spinning with him every time he would get up from the bed. He tried getting up slowly, which didn't work. He could pull himself in the slowest motion ever existed; the dizziness would still be there, would still make him fall on his way to the bathroom and would still make him sweat like a pig when the room was chilly.

 

"Are you...sick?" Chanyeol asked, with a long pause in between the words, trying not to sound too stupid or something as he rubbed his arm, frowning in concern for the younger who just sat in bed, drawing in the pink notebook that he still intended to give Kris, no matter what.

 

"I don't know."

 

The reply was short, and his best friend could sense the same amount of concern that Zitao had for his own health. He was as scared as Chanyeol, as afraid of how the results of a test would turn just as his best friend. "I don't want anything to happen...But it's getting worse." he mumbled, his palm now clumsily searching for the pen to write his message for Kris above the drawing.

 

Looking at his best friend, he nodded, shifting from the bed to get the younger his needed writing tool, smiling and hugging the younger. "I'm scared."

 

"You don't say," Zitao mumbled once again, beautifully writing beside the drawing a simple sentence for his boyfriend.

 

Love exists, ge. That's why we're holding hands right now. Your hand is almost as big as mine are but I still feel like I'm tiny next to you. Will we be able to hold hands and compare them in the future? To laugh about it?

I'm a bit sad now, ge. I want you to hold me and tell me not to be scared anymore.

I think I'm sick, but I bet I will survive it.

Nothing is impossible.

Turn the page!!! But before that, wear lip-gloss and kiss the little square I did for you. Surprise on the next page. :)

 

"Zi, you're being cheesy." Chanyeol laughed, pinching Zitao's side just a bit to make him squirm like a little girl, giggling and begging his best friend not to tickle him.

 

Yet, the older had other plans. Throwing the pen on the bed and taking the notebook out of his best friend's hands, placing it gently on the night stand, he evilly grinned before making the other cry laughing as he was being tickled. Zitao felt like dying, his breathe going slower, but he continued to laugh and push Chanyeol away. He knew that Chanyeol wouldn't harm him in any way, ever.

 

**

 

Wufan sighed, nodding his head as his mother continued speaking on the phone, knowing that she was trying to get him a few more bucks for him to have the exact money for the rings, plane and hotel. He forgot about it. He wasn't going to ask Zitao to let him stay in his flat, no. Only if Zitao requested for him to stay, he would. If not, he would just excuse himself and go for a hotel room a couple of days. It wouldn't hurt him to stay at a hotel, but it would hurt Zitao to know that he can't lie his head down on his lover's chest and listen to his heartbeats while inhaling the scent that the perfume Wufan used was still going pretty well on his pale skin.

 

It would take just several moments, for Wufan, to realize how much of a great mother he had, a woman that was able to make few deals just to help her son to meet his internet-lover. He smiled, playing with the ring he had on his pinky finger, the ring that was given when he was only four, by his father. The one that disappeared the next day and never was seen since that day. Wufan, at first, thought that his father left for the family, to make good improvements in their lives and bring more happiness, but later on learned that the man who was there once, left forever because he simply hated being responsible of such young life that was going to grow up in such good man.

 

But the Canadian boy never bought himself to hate the man that left. Not even once in his life, he thought of how much he hated his father. Yes, he was disappointed, but he never hated. Never.

 

Now, he was smiling like an idiot, showing his healthy gums to his mother as she sighed, patting his hands to calm him down, only to bring more excitement to his young heart, the news of being able to fly in Hong Kong after he took care of the rings -with few little promises- making him almost scream in delight. Oh, how much he loved his mother.

 

**

 

Once in a while, Zitao would just sit in bed and contemplate on his words. Should he call his mother to make an appointment to the doctor and immediately get treated for whatever he had, or just enjoy his last few days of the trip, taking pictures and making memories he would later add up on his precious wall in his room, filled with Polaroids of his adventures he had with Chanyeol.

 

He had that kind of wall.

 

Every day, he would take a memorable photo of the stupidity of being Park Chanyeol's friend with his Polaroid camera, waiting for the photo to be ready, grab a marker and scribble down on it the specific day -sometimes even some words they planed on using for their inside jokes - and hang it on the wall, grinning to himself proudly when the older would compliment him for such great ideas.

 

It was his way of keeping track of his memories, the memories he only shared with Chanyeol.

 

He would, sometimes, even write in his neat handwriting some of the lines they used in the conversations, only to have them close when they were needed for a new refresh of their stressed minds. They would be used for their good times, when they'd laugh till they were running out of oxygen, crying in the same time. It happened so many times that Zitao promised to just write those key words, or sentences, to make Chanyeol roll on the floor while crying desperately for air.

 

And that's what he's planning to do with his boyfriend, too.

 

Once he'd meet the older, he would just pull out his camera from his backpack, make a face and snap a picture of Wufan, not caring if it was coming out beautifully or the face captured with the camera was a pure failure. He wouldn't care anyway. Every picture would be beautiful, if only Wufan would be in it. His presence would be a bonus to the picture.

 

**

The marker's sound on the book was annoying.

 

Wufan hated it, but he had to study hard for his entrance exam for Medicine. He had to do it perfectly, to his the biggest score and just smile proudly in front of his boyfriend, kissing his lips and telling him how much he loved the boy for making him change everything in his life, for good.

 

He was, now, in his room with a cup of coffee on the desk -placed to only cool down a bit-, the songs on his iPod making him concentrate better as he continued to mumble to himself every sentence that he was reading, throwing his head back occasionally, closing his eyes and repeating with a much louder voice the sentence he just read, to verify that it was already fixed in his head.

 

And now, he was hopping that everything would do well for him...For him and Zitao...

 

 

 

 

August 2013;

 

It was already one month since Zitao stopped speaking with Wufan. He didn't know the reason why he couldn't go chat with Wufan, and it was making him sad. He was, finally, able to come back in Hong Kong, sitting in his new apartment -that was bought recently only for himself, since he was already alone in the big city.

 

He didn't know exactly how it happened, but after he came back from Thailand, Jongdae just attacked him. He was now, lounged on the couch in his living room, watching the news from CNN -he didn't even know how CNN got into his program grill-, his eyes emotionless at the deaths that were presented here and there.

 

Closing his eyes, Zitao sat there, thinking of every insult that Jongdae threw at him just two days before he was back in Hong Kong. And everything hurt, but he showed no weakness or tears. He knew that Jongdae would come to one end, at one point. And he knew that the older would just get sick of him one day. He was ready for it. Friends were buses.

 

Some would throw you out if you don't have your ticket at you, some would just keep you there because they know you're poor enough to pay for the expensive ticket.

 

"You're just stupid. I tried, really, to understand your s, Zitao. But you're...You're horrible. I should have stopped talking to you since 9th grade. After that..." Jongdae groaned into the phone, chuckling afterwards; "You're not replying, you're sobbing or crying already. I know it because you're a cry-baby, ."

 

Wow...

 

"Actually, for your information, you should know better than anyone that I don't ing cry when people who pretend to be my friend, act like this. You could have said something before, not just bring up the subject because I went in Thai with Chanyeol, and you were in Europe with your parents. You know better that my mental-health problems are worse enough for me not to have a conversation like others." Zitao sighed into the phone, letting the pen fall on the desk, drawing a thick line on Wufan's face.

 

"My panic attacks are worse, you liar."

 

"Whatever you say. Every disease is horrible."

 

Every disease, he sighed, pushing his new chair back to stand up, walking towards the kitchen to look once again on the results he just got this morning from the tests, holding the phone close to his ear to hear everything that Jongdae had to say. He was so scared to open the envelope. He was so scared to think of what he could have as a sickness.

 

"You're sobbing." Jongdae coldly spoke, not even caring.

 

Zitao's lips formed a smirk, rolling his eyes as he leaned against the kitchen island, inhaling and exhaling before replying. "For your information, I'm scared of my hospital’s results on my recent check-ups. That's why I'm sobbing. Not because you have hurt me with any of your words that mean actually nothing."

 

The words spoken were empty. Empty words traveled around Zitao as he sat on the couch, remembering the whole conversation, and everything that he was doing to avoid opening that God damn envelope. He was so scared to even touch it. He thought that touching it, it would poison the paper and give him a heart attack once it was opened.

 

He was waiting for Chanyeol. For his brave best friend to hold him close as he would open that damned brown paper, to rip its corner and take the paper out, reading it out loud in the living room, with shaky voices.

 

He waited. Chanyeol would be coming from South Korea only for this moment, only because he wouldn't want his soul-mate to get in this alone. With all his school that already started there, he didn't want Zitao to feel alone. His mother was still in Qingdao, not being able to come in Hong Kong, due work issues, and Yixing was still in Malaysia, as a transfer student at the University, majoring in dancing.

 

**

 

"Let's do this." Tao breathed in, looking away from the envelope.

 

"I'm still scared." he mumbled, passing the envelope to his best friend, grinning like a stupid child when seeing his parents does something for him.

 

"Fine." Chanyeol sighed, bravely -even if his hands were shaking in fear- taking the envelope between his fingers, closing his eyes and exhaling once again, not really wanting to know what his best friend had. Not that he wasn't curios, but he was more scared of anything the notes would say.

 

Taking all the courage, he ripped the top of the envelope. Both of them in a breath as Chanyeol slowly pulled out the paper, the writing were obviously computerized. He was glad that he wouldn't have to get though the doctor's handwriting; since he was always confused when a doctor wrote anything.

 

On the paper, Chanyeol could read the bold words at the "Disease" section, and he was afraid now to say it aloud, fearing of anything that would happen afterwards. He didn't even know what the disease meant, but he felt like it was bad.

 

"What is it?" Tao asked, looking at Chanyeol's wide eyes, making him chew his bottom lip between his teeth.

 

"It's....spinocerebellar degeneration...." Chanyeol's voice was shaky. His eyes quickly scanned the paper, gasping when he read the following:

 

Spinocerebellar degeneration is a rare disease where the cerebellum (the blue part presented in the picture below) of the brain gradually deteriorates to the point where the victim cannot walk, speak, write or eat.

 

Zitao, looking with hopeful eyes at Chanyeol, nudged his leg from the floor. Chanyeol's eyes were already filled with tears as he placed the paper aside, on the couch, sliding down on the floor in the slowest motion even, almost afraid to go too soon to hug the younger, hoping that the time would pass by with much more difficulty, so ZiTao would be here, with him more.

 

As his knees hit the floor, he wrapped his arms around ZiTao's neck, bringing him close to a tight hug. Chanyeol wasn't the king of skinship; in fact he hated it a lot. Zitao always wanted to hug the older, but there were rare chances when he would finally receive a hug.

 

"Chanyeol...What's wrong? What's on the paper?" Zitao's questions were pointless now, as the older couldn't even hear properly the words that left his mouth, his crying making him dizzy and unable to understand anything that was happening now.

 

Not knowing what to do, the younger only wrapped his arms around his best friend, hugging him as tightly as he was held, rubbing his back as if it would erase the tears. He already was aware that he couldn't do anything to stop them, but he tried. He tried his best not to let his tears fall too until he saw the results. "Chanyeol..." he tried once again, only to being pushed away just few centimeters for the older to look at him with his red eyes, where the tears never stopped to fall.

 

"I-I have to make a call, I'll be back." Chanyeol suddenly spoke, standing up and taking the paper with the results with him, fishing for his phone in his pants and walking out of the apartment, dialing the doctor's personal number that was attached on the end of the paper, where it was clearly written "for more information" purposes.

 

"Hello?" the sound of the young doctor was heard in the phone, making Chanyeol close his eyes for a couple of seconds.

 

"Yes, hello. I am Park Chanyeol, Huang Zitao's friend and the one who actually bought him and was with him when he took the tests..."

 

"Oh, Chanyeol. Hi. How are you?" the doctor asked, making Chanyeol chew on his bottom lip at the change of voice.

 

"I'm okay...Shocked, sad, devastated, but okay...I have to be okay for him...A-Anyway...I want to ask..."

 

"Yes?"

 

"...How much time does he have, since it's an incurable disease?"

 

There was a pause. Chanyeol was straightforward. He didn't need any other things to be told into the phone conversation, only the exact matters to know how much to fight for his best friend.

 

"It depends on his body, Chanyeol...Our patients that went thought such disease, survived up to ten or fifteen years, but...It's only on his body. Once he won't be able to eat, his whole body will react more violently on the medicines we will try to give him."

 

"I understand..."

 

The doctor sighed into the phone, making Chanyeol sigh too, nodding his head. "Can I call...if I have any other..." he couldn't finish his sentence as his tears were once again pooling out of his eyes, sliding down on the wall next to Zitao's apartment door.

 

"Of course, Chanyeol. You can call whenever you want to ask me anything or you help you do research about this disease." the doctor spoke, softly, for Chanyeol to calm down.

 

"T-Thank-you...W-Will see you s-soon..." Chanyeol mumbled into the phone, cutting the call. He wanted to go though this as fast as he could, to tell Zitao, to stop him from crying, to be there for him every single time he was in pain.

 

Groaning, he patted his knees, standing up. "I have to do this. For Zitao. For my best friend. My soul mate." he whispered to himself, putting the phone back into his pant's pocket, opening the door with a shaky heart, walking inside of the apartment once again, smiling sadly at Zitao who was still on the floor, looking confused as ever.

 

"What...was that?" Zitao managed to choke out, surprised that he was seeing his best friend standing in front of him, with the paper in his hands.

 

"I'm sorry...I just...had to make a call..."

 

"Oh," Zitao nodded his head, looking straight in Chanyeol's eyes. "Is it bad?"

 

Chanyeol refused to reply, walking to the couch and signaling his best friend to climb on the couch too, which the younger did, immediately wrapping his arms around his best friend, for a hug full of hope.

 

"What I'm going to tell you will make you have mixed feelings. Since I know you better than anyone else, I know you'll be shocked, you'll cry and eventually you'll throw a fit. But just listen to me till I am done with everything I have to tell, okay?"

 

Zitao nodded.

 

"Okay, this is hard...You have, as I said, spinocerebellar degeneration. With other words, your cerebellar is degrading and you'll eventually stop having your body functions, even though you will be able to use your mind. That means, of course, that you will not be able to speak, walk, write and eat. When I was out, I have called your doctor and," he paused, looking at Zitao who shifted from the couch, his feet now touch the carpet on the floor, looking down, his hands interlinked. His blonde hair was falling straight in his face, hiding his eyes filled with tears. Chanyeol continued though. "I asked him how much time it will take till you know...give your last breath. He said it doesn't depend on the actual disease, but on your body. On how much will you be able to fight with the life that will take the most important functions of your body." he sighed, watching Zitao's tears fall on his clenched fists now. "He also said that most of his patients went for ten or fifteen years with the disease before they died so you can't actually say you'll die soon."

 

"Thank-you. That's enough."

 

 

**

 

As days passed, Zitao could say that he lived his days looking at the way he did everything. The way he walked was one example. He would notice that his left foot was slower than the right one, who was obviously normal. He would notice that his hands were shaking whenever he was drawing, and it was annoying.

 

But he didn't care about any of those. After he cried his lungs out the night he found out what kind of disease he had, making Chanyeol miss his flight because he just needed someone to feed him chocolate, cuddle him and watch with him some Korean dramas, which Zitao easily understood since Chanyeol took every single moment of his life to teach the other his mother language.

 

Now, he was sad. He was looking at his Skype list and at his Facebook, waiting. Waiting for Wufan to come online so he can go once again on his crying, and maybe pressure the older just a bit to come here, even for a day, and hug him tightly. He was scared. Oh, so scared to do anything. To even go to the bathroom.

 

 

On the other hand, Wufan was flying back and forth school, library, and his tutor -which was actually the professor who would teach all of his classes- and home. There was space for nothing but work and sleep. If he would not be able to sleep, he would just take coffee and energizer drinks, gulp them down and continue his work till the exhaustion would make him fall straight into his pillows at home, snoring loudly.

 

He was that busy that he almost forgot that he had a boyfriend, that he was doing everything for the love of the other who was far away from him, in China. But he wouldn't forget about the most important person in his life, no. Why would he let such person slip out of his mind as he always saw on the wall all the drawings Zitao sent him, every day staring at them and admiring the talent his lover was being gifted with?

 

He was, now, studying the brain and its diseases. And every each one of them pained Wufan, knowing that a lot of people around the world were in the same, exact moment battling with one of those that he was reading about. It was making him sad knowing that no one was actually happy, just fake smiles stretched on the troubled faces.

 

But, Wufan was truly happy. His smiles were the brightest. Whenever he would face any troubles, he would just think about the boy that he will meet on Christmas, and how much he will be bathed with kisses from head to toe, how lovely their dates would be and how full of emotions their other activities would go by night.

 

"I'm dying." he suddenly whispered, putting the book down on his bed and rubbing his temples.

 

Recently, Wufan sold his phone and told his mother that he will stop paying his internet and television, only for the rings and engravings. His mother, being a little concerned about her son's being, proposed that he should live in her house -their house-; where he grew up in a fine young adult. He accepted, knowing that his mother would pay for his food and everything.

 

She had internet and television, but Wufan refused to use it, since he was focusing on the exam that was in almost one month. It was the end of the summer, and the Canadian marine student knew that the tests for were taken at the end of September, which gave him only few weeks to remember everything that he had to, and pass his exam well.

 

His mother was concerned. Not even when Wufan's first love was alive, he never fought so much for it. Maybe because he was a careless teenager? Maybe because he didn't know that he would die? She didn't exactly know why, but now, she would see how much he was trying to make everything possible, every single detail.

 

One night, he eventually confessed that since he was Chinese, and knew the language, he would just go and work his off in Hong Kong to move with Zitao in their own house, to make a little family and eventually adopt a child when the time would be right for it. He would bring Zitao to Canada one day, to show him where he grew up, to show him all of those things that made him happy, to meet his mother and to propose to him. He also planned travelling to Qingdao, and is a fine young man and ask Zitao's mother -since the younger told him that he had no father, just like him- for his lover's hand. It was the perfect plan that was usually in movies and full of happiness and happy endings soap operas, which Wufan's mother enjoyed every night.

 

But he wanted to respect that plan, and he would, with a little of effort just now.

 

**

Ge, I'm finally writing this. You can see that here is no drawing of us as a couple, just a quick croquis of myself, in a bed.

That should be me in a few months or years, I don't even know.

 

You will ask yourself what happened, I'm sure of it, I'm chuckling as I write this...

You can also sense that I'm writing not as beautifully as I did before, like four or five pages ago.

 

To be honest, I'm sick.

Very sick.

Deadly sick.

 

It's horrible to say that, but you know, I'm glad I know now why I was so dizzy when I was talking to you, and why I was so concerned about myself. At least I know what's with me...

 

Chanyeol -yes, the great Yeolador; as you called him I don't know why- told me from the paper that I received from the hospital that I have this weird-named brain disease, spinocerebellar degradation...Or something like that. I'm not good in medicine. You're good. Tell me more, tell me more.

As I know, you told me in our previous conversations that your past lover had heart cancer. Does this...disease go as brain cancer? I don't know, I'm not informed.

I'm too scared, actually, to open up Google and type it up and just read everything, read comments and anything like that. It would hurt me.

Uhh, I'm writing so much now...Too much, but...

I've like, got a black notebook.

For the bad days.

 

Yeolador also said that the effect were like this: I will loose my body functions, I will not be able to eat, walk, talk or write. But, in the black notebook I will try to write everything that's happening to me.

This pink notebook will be only for our memory purposes.

And this is a memory that should be written here. Why?

Because it's the beginning of our road, where we'll try to support each other spiritually in this situation.

Don't worry, happy things will come every day, with every page you're turning.

This is just a quick rant that took 3 freaking pages, where I did sketched here and there myself pictured in a hospital bed, with you by my side, kissing my forehead to make me feel better about my condition.

 

Iloveyou. Turn the page for happiness!

 

Zitao smiled, closing the notebook before exhaling the air. It was already getting cold or it was only because of the rain outside, he didn't know. He was here, eating his food with difficulty, he was crying himself to sleep every night when his head would hurt, when his back would kill him and when he would fall.

 

He was scared to go alone in this; since Chanyeol had to leave for a couple of days...He was scared of everything.

 

 

 

 

 

September 2013;

 

"I'm sleepy," Chanyeol mumbled, dragging his feet towards Zitao's car, slapping his face few times, gulping down his coffee afterwards. "I'm driving you to school because I'm freaking afraid of how the hell will you drive yourself around. You seriously need to find someone to 'replace' me."

 

"Replace you?" Zitao whined, hitting his best friend, making himself comfortable in his passenger’s seat. "I can't replace you; you're not someone that is just a friend. You're my second me, you know me better than anyone else you're -"

 

"Shh, I wasn't saying 'replace me' as in get another friend, but I'm running short on money lately, and Joonmyeon already offered me his jet. That dude is ing rich. And only thing I have to do for him is to go out with him as friends, of course." Chanyeol mumbled, smiling like a buffoon at his soul mate.

 

"Who the hell is Joonmyeon?"

 

"Medicine student in South Korea, my freaking dorm mate in the campus. He actually doesn't live in the campus. And he dragged me with him. We're living at a villa that's in Gangnam...and we ride his personal car, with his driver...to school...I feel like one of those dudes from F4 from Boys before Flowers. Zitao, kill him for me!"

 

Zitao chuckled. He liked having his best friend whine about his happenings once in a while. He could clearly remember how he was whining daily about how annoying his mother was, but he was far away from her now, since she left with his older sister in America. Yoora, Chanyeol's older sister, came back four months after she left only to get into the KBS station to become a board casting reporter for the news there.

 

He was beyond happy for his sister and so was Zitao. "You know, maybe he's a good...potential...boyfriend?"

 

"Huang. Zi. Tao. Do you want a slap, a kick and your death to be today or after ten years? Do you? I can do everything right now, in this car and leave no trace that I was here." Chanyeol barked at his best friend, not even caring that he had to continue driving.

 

"Dude, chill and drive." Zitao mumbled, rolling his eyes and looking out on the window.

 

As expected, when Zitao entered the campus, he firstly saw Jongdae, laughing with someone. Jongdae stole a glance at him, noticing that Zitao was limping, or that's what he saw. He also saw Chanyeol, who was holding the younger's hands. Smirking, he turned his head to the boy he was talking to. "And I tell you, Taehyung, he is a . Don't you see how he's limping? I bet his best friend had him two rounds before coming here." he laughed, when Taehyung, a fellow fashion designer major stared at Zitao, shaking his head.

 

"I don't think he's limping tho..." he groaned, fixing his thick hipster-like glasses, nudging his friend. "Do you think he's limping?" he asked, his best friend, pointing to Zitao.

 

"Nope. He looks perfectly fine to me. Oh, no. Wait, I think he is. Maybe he hit himself somewhere. I hear he's in the same major with us. Let's meet him up. Come on Baekhyun, I want to meet him."

 

"Coming, coming. Jesus, I can't talk with Claus because of you." Baekhyun roared, hugging Claus before running after Taehyung and his best friend, towards the limping boy.

 

Zitao sighed, feeling a little sick. Looking around the campus, he saw a bench by the fountain and he really wanted to sit there no matter what. "Chan...Run after that bench for me..." he sighed, suddenly feeling without any power in his body to continue standing.

 

Nodding, Chanyeol did as he was told, taking the younger's bag and sprinting to the bench, shooing everyone who wanted to stay on that particular bench, pointing at Zitao and telling them as politely as he could that he was sick and needed somewhere to sit for a while. Groaning to himself, Zitao dragged his feet, as fast as he could without falling down, on the bench, plopping himself down on it, sighing.

 

"I'm dying."

 

"This is supposed to be a joke or you're really feeling like dying? You don't even have all the symptoms. You're just finally loosing your legs." Chanyeol babbled, making Zitao slap his arm. "What?"

 

"That's not supposed to be a joke, and don't say that loosing my legs it's a good thing. It's horrible. The doctor said that I'm growing weaker day by day, so just stop it. I don't want to die yet. It's my first day of colle-"

 

"Hi!" Taehyung suddenly spoke, jumping right in front of Zitao who was slowly looking up, the tiredness showing, and a little sweat showing on his forehead as he breathed slowly. "I'm Taehyung and I heard we're going to be classmates at the fashion department. Nice to meet you, those are Hakyeon who is with us in fashion and the diva, Baekhyun who is at graphic design. Cool right?" the boy beamed, holding his hand for Zitao to take it and shake it.

 

The younger did as it was right to do, shake it a bit before dropping it in Chanyeol's lap, leaning his head on his shoulder. "I'm Huang Zitao, nice you meet you guys." he smiled, making a small wave for the other two boys.

 

"And you?" Hakyeon asked, pointing to Chanyeol. "You never introduced yourself."

 

"Oh? Me? I'm not a student here. I'm just driving Zi here because of some personal reasons," he grinned, shaking hands with Hakyeon. "But the name is Park Chanyeol."

 

"Cool, more Korean people!"

 

"I'm not Korean." Zitao mumbled, hiding his face in Chanyeol's shoulder. "My head hurts, can you give me my medicine?" he quietly asked, grabbing his bag and searching for giant bottle of water. He was going horribly, knowing how much of pain he will have to go with for the rest of his days.

 

"Its okay, it's okay. You're quite fluent in it." Baekhyun ginned, plopping down next to Zitao. "You will be my new friend. Even if we don't really go to the same courses, we'll just find a way for us to go though." he laughed, punching Zitao's arm just a bit, in a friendly gesture which made the other choke on his water. "Oh! I'm sorry!" he quickly shouted, patting Zitao's back.

 

"It's...okay..." the younger groaned, leaning his forehead on Chanyeol's shoulder, mumbling in his mother language few words.”I really don't feel well."

 

 

 

When Zitao was asked to stand up, by his new fashion designer teacher, and speak a few words in front of the class, the younger once again found himself dizzy and unable to move his feet towards the front to speak a few words about his life. He, of course, would not tell that he had such horrible disease; he would just go on with simple things like his name, age and purpose in life after graduating.

 

But he did stood up, with a bit of difficulty; making most of his classmates raise their eyebrows and obviously start to judge him, making harsh comments about him. He already hated those idiots, but Taehyung and Hakyeon showed their thumbs up, grinning at him and whispering that he can do it. And now, here he was, dragging his feet next to the teacher to speak.

 

If he could speak.

 

His introduction, which consisted of two or three sentences, took at least fifteen minutes to pour out the words. He was, in between of the words, not able to speak anymore, just like someone was trying to choke him. He coughed a couple of times to regain strength only for him to take longer to choke out the sentences. His teacher observed, and he was worried.

 

 

 

"Zitao, can we talk a bit?" the professor asked after even the last student exited the room. The young boy nodded, feeling his head pounding. He felt like fainting, like crying and shouting for Chanyeol or Wufan to come and hold him, he wasn't good. Not even a bit.

 

"W-What is the matter, professor?" he quietly asked, trying to put his notebook in his bag, his hand refusing to cooperate with his brain. He looked with hopeless eyes at the teacher who just pulled a chair from the class to sit down on it, motioning the younger to do the same. Zitao just gave a small nod, his eyes not focused on the chair and almost making himself sit on thin air. His professor saw that. He saw everything.

 

"You're sick." the professor started, with a straight face as his hands were folded in front of his chest, his eyes showing the only bit of concern that he could give to his student he just got to know. "You should stay home until you get better and then come to-"

 

"I'm not getting any better, I assure you." Zitao cut in, smiling. "It's incurable."

 

 

 

Baekhyun stared down at his watch, tapping his foot against the ground as he pouted, waiting for his new friend, Zitao to come out. He felt horrible for the younger to have such hardship to carry on his shoulder, and, since he was actually Zitao's neighbor too, he opted for waiting the younger to come and go together at home.

 

Chanyeol left, knowing that Joonmyeon would be mad if his jet would be missing more than twenty-four hours, which made Zitao a bit upset about this mysterious dude he never really met. Well, Zitao could say nothing more about it, he just had to bid Chanyeol good bye, kiss his cheek and a warm hug before he entered for his classes.

 

Now, Zitao was walking out with his professor, helping him when the stairs became a problem for his student's feet to handle. He felt horrible to know that he needed someone to help him. He felt horrible that he was being a burned to everyone as time passed by, not being able to use his body anymore little by little. It hurt him, but he knew he had to fight with it as much as he could.

 

His new friend, Baekhyun, gasped when he saw the younger, rushing to the professor to pass the younger into his arms, to carry him on his back to Zitao's car. He wanted to help, and he didn't care if the younger would weight double his kilograms he just polished during the summer.

 

"Are you okay?" his new friend asks the sick boy, on their way to the car. Zitao said nothing in response, just burying his face into the elder’s neck, trying his best not to cry.

 

His voice, his legs...Soon it would be his arms and eyes. In few years -hopefully- he would lose everything and then he could just wish for a small, not-painful death, with full of smiles. He felt horrible.

 

**

 

Days turned out to be dull for Zitao, as he was always helped by his new friends, Baekhyun, Taehyung and Hakyeon to go to school and come from school, making him feel worse then ever. His teacher would put him next to him, under special care, and help him whenever the pen would slip from his fingers, as the limbs were no longer able to hold a simple, weightless pen.

 

The other students in class would still whisper nonsense about his condition, saying that he's either a mentally-ill child, so that's why his behavior is like it. Or maybe, maybe he had traumas in the past which made his brain to work slower than everyone else.

 

But those were just simple thoughts of those students that knew nothing of Zitao's situation. Yet, none of those thoughts pained the boy. He knew that what he felt was the true armor, not all of those made-up things, and the teachers knew too. They did treated him differently though, even if the sick boy firmly spoke in front of each teacher not to. But now, he was happy that he was treated differently.

 

"Zitao, you can't paint. Let me do it for you." Taehyung smiled, dragging his chair next to Zitao, taking the brush from the younger. "You just sit back, relax and think about the colors."

 

"Alive."

 

Taehyung blinked, his thick glasses slipping on the tip of his nose, only to make him push them back up as he closed one of his eyes, trying to understand. Zitao noticed, and repeated.

 

"Alive. Alive colors. Much more alive than my whole being now."

 

**

 

I'm not better. I think my body is weak.

Much more weak than the doctors expected it, since all those stuff like heavy speech, walk and hold of an object are usually planned for one or two years after the disease it's finally settled in my body. Maybe it settled down much before I made the tests, who knows?

I surely shortened my days by smoking in 9th grade, didn't I?

 

With the help of my new best friend, Baekhyun, I drew this. Our future together, in three alternative endings. The first ending, it's us with a beautiful baby boy that we adopted. Edison. I like that name, would you like it too?

The second one, is only me...If...we'd ever break up I would be wondering as a lonely pained heart in search for someone to love as much as I love you, and, the third one, the one I hate the most: my death.

I can picture myself, buried several feet under you, and you crying after me, blood gushing out of your head. I don't know why, but I do see you like this...Will you come with me, after I'm gone, to keep me company, Wufan?

 

**

 

Wufan sat on the couch, watching a soap opera as he munched on his breakfast lazily, shifting the laziness from one leg to another each time a scene flew away. He was bored. Two days before his exam, and he was chilling. It was his awards for everything he had done. He wanted so badly to finish this exam and go to Zitao, but he knew that the exam was just one little step before he would just fly between his college and home to only study, study, study. He also wanted to open back his life for his lover that was in Hong Kong.

 

His mother just recently told him that Yixing, Zitao's friend from Malaysia posted on Facebook a little check-in in the national hospital of Hong Kong with Zitao for an appointment that made wufan's heart flutter. Was his lover sick? He did asked his mother to log in for him a couple of minutes on his own account to get to talk with his lover only for a few minutes or hours as he was able to get to know what Zitao made in this time.

 

Hey! <3

 

Hiiiiiiii.

 

How are you, love?

 

Doing well. But it can be better.

 

Zitao didn't want to burden Wufan with all of his disease. He felt like telling the older would crush him and make him stop focusing on his deeds and he would fail them. Zitao never wanted that. He felt incredibly sorry to know that Wufan will have to find out sooner or later what was happening with his lover that could also be his late lover in the near future.

 

Are you busy?

 

Yeah, exams are hell.

 

EW, exams! Just have good-luck, Pissie.

 

Thank-you, sweetheart. Gtg now, I have to study a biiit more, just be safe okay? I love you.

 

 

By the time Wufan went offline, Zitao could still hear Jongin's old words in his mind. "He is not real". Thinking about it, the whole situation felt unreal for such boy that found the love of his life in just two days on a socializing site, but...Who was he to judge his heart and fate? He was just happy that he found someone that would cry over him when he was gone...Not as a loving mother or as a dear friend, but as a person that was romantically involved with him; someone who stole his heart and ran with it miles away.

 

 

**

 

Smiling, Zitao pulled his suspenders, as he smiled softly at the camera, his right hand in his jeans’ pockets, leaning forward as his hair was brown -obviously a wig being pulled over his blonde locks- a tiny red hat on top of it. Continuing to smile, he let the photographer snap few pictures for the day he would pass away, so his picture would be put there, for him.

 

Also, he did a couple of photos with his best friends and mother, but, he really wanted to do a picture with his lover, with Wufan.

 

 

**

 

Wufan felt something off that particular day as he took his exam. It was the day he waited for so long. Zitao's replies would have been as fast as the lightning when they had the conversation, but it looks like he was typing more and more slowly; maybe because he was tired. He sighed, looking up at the supervisor who raised an eyebrow at him. Smiling and raising his hands in sign of "I'm not doing anything wrong", he just mentally brushed off all of the questions he had about his Chinese lover.

 

The Canadian boy just needed to focus on his essay now, the essay that confused him because of the subject.

 

A subject that, if he knew why he felt so horrible to write it, he would have just ripped the paper in half; spinocerebellar-degeneration.

 

 

 

 

 

October 2013;

 

"I am here!" Chanyeol announced, almost kicking the apartment's door open, grinning like a child when he entered in it, feeling just like home. Chanyeol hated living in the luxurious villa that Joonmyeon got, he hated having perfect clothes every day, washed by anyone but him. Yet, he felt good when he knew that he could only focus on his studies, not on his laundry. "And I bought Joonmyeon with me!"

 

Zitao just lazily looked up, nodding his head as he blinked a couple of times, trying to take the tiredness away from his system. "Cool. Baek's in the kitchen, he's making me some food." he smiled, hugging Chanyeol as the older almost threw himself on the younger, cuddling him to death. "And hello for you too, mysterious Joonmyeon."

 

"What mysterious? I'm just Chanyeol's classmate and dorm mate, duh."

 

"No need to be a diva." the youngest mumbled, with difficulty standing up to go to the kitchen, tripping on nothing and almost falling, only if Joonmeyon wasn't there to hold him.

 

"Oh, so that's how it is," he mumbled, inspecting Zitao. "So he's already on his way to death, right? In less than five years you can bid your good-bye to him." he laughed, smiling at Zitao who just raised an eyebrow, not liking the dude that just made fun of him.

 

Baekhyun, who was now holding a tray with drinks, came into the living room. "You're horrible, dude. You wouldn't talk if you were in his condition." he sweetly smiled, putting a straw in Zitao's glass, giving it to the younger, patting his head. "Please don't drop this one too."

 

"Don't worry, I'll help him." Chanyeol laughed, holding the glass for Zitao as the boy drank his juice.

 

 

Joonmyeon liked to be a doctor, but he also hated seeing patients. He thought everyone was way to whiny, but then, he saw Zitao. The boy never complained about his condition, he just accepted his fate, always a smile plastered on his face even when he was falling down on his way to the bathroom. Joonmyeon wanted to know the boy deeper, as he felt like his heart was already beating faster for the patient.

 

He didn't know why though, but he just wanted to kiss those lips. To feel that neck, to do even more to Zitao. He was being by only looking at him.

 

"Hey, Baek. Bulb. I'm hungry." Zitao whined, throwing his pillow at Baekhyun, his arm's strength still being as strong as it was before. He likes that his arms were still going well for him, even though they would shake uncontrollably whenever he would take a glass or his fork, knife in his hands. It was annoying.

 

"Stop calling me a bulb, you panda." Baekhyun groaned, taking the small plate and putting it in front of Zitao. "Now, let's get your stomach full." he laughed, sitting on the floor with the plate in his lap, the fork stabbing the food before bringing it to Zitao's lips, so he could eat as Chanyeol made sure he wouldn't choke.

 

The scene in front of him was heartbreaking, but Joonmyeon felt nothing. Why would he feel something about having a boy dying? He saw already children that were a lot younger, dying in his father's arms every day. Why would this boy suddenly be treated any differently by him? He didn't care. Plopping himself down on the couch, he took the remote, opening the television, not even caring about Baekhyun's harsh comments.

 

"Why would I care?" he suddenly spat at Baekhyun, his face showing no emotion.

 

"Because he's sick."

 

"And? I don't know him. I don't need to. So bye."

 

Zitao sighed, looking at Joonmyeon with lost eyes. He already hated this guy. Closing his eyes as slowly as possible and exhaling, he spat at the other. "Get out of my apartment. I don't need your harsh..." he stopped, trying to find his voice back to speak, the only sounds he could produce being "ah", "oh", "eeee" and strangled breathes. Sighing, he stopped talking, motioning Baekhyun to continue for him.

 

"He doesn't need any of your harsh comments about his disease. He wouldn't laugh if you were in his situation. He would just try to help. But you're a stuck-up rich idiot who likes to make fun, a bully for short." Baekhyun smiled, looking at his best friend with a smile before feeding him once again.

 

Smiling too, Zitao took gladly the food out of the fork with his lips, munching on it for a couple of seconds before trying to slowly swallow it.

 

**

 

"Zitao, would you like to go out with me?" Joonmyeon asked, smiling sweetly at the younger who was lazily sprawled on his bed, watching television; Spongebob to be more exact.

 

"What?" he asked, looking up with a bit of difficulty as Joonmyeon made himself comfortable on his bed, kicking off his GUCCI shoes and placing Zitao's head on his lap, smiling as he played with the younger's hair.

 

"Go out with me." he repeated again laughing when the younger's eyes widened.

 

"I-..."

 

"It is okay. Just one date, nothing much. Going to the park, etc etc. I don't know Hong Kong too well so, guide me." he laughed, looking in Zitao's eyes.

 

"Uhh...okay."

 

 

Their walk to the park was horribly slow since Joonmyeon had to hold the younger's hand and make sure he wouldn't fall. He didn't know why Zitao wouldn't want a wheelchair, but he wanted Zitao to feel like he was loved. To feel something perfect between the two and maybe make a relationship bloom. Yet, Joonmyeon knew nothing about Wufan. Not a single word.

 

**

Speaking about Wufan. The older boy was now grinning from ear to ear as he was finally buying the rings, telling the same sale's lady -that was a racist prick in his eyes- the exact words that he would like to engrave on the inner ring.

 

"So, repeat it again to see if I noted correctly." the lady spoke, taking the paper in her hand, lazily reading it.

 

"For the first ring, inside I would like to be written 'Wu Yi Fan, heart, HZT' and on the second one I would like it to be the exact opposite, 'Huang Zi Tao, heart, Wu Yi Fan'. Is it okay?" he smiled, putting his card down for the lady to take it and make the payment.

 

"Sure, everything will go to the plan. I bet your lover will squeal in happiness while seeing this gift. But let me ask, do you plan on going to marry him or something? Because if you do, I tell you, you have to go back on eating. You're looking like a skeleton right now."

 

"I know," he sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. "I had to starve myself a couple of days to make the payment for those rings. But thank-you once again for helping me. When do I pick them up?"

 

"Two days."

 

**

 

 

Walking in the park with Joonmyeon was exciting. Sitting on a bench by the lake, letting your whole being being blown by the wind, was not that exciting. Zitao was shy around Joonmyeon. One, because the boy next to him was completely handsome and second because he already had one little idea about why would the older want to take him to the park. A date meant, a date. Lovers. Future lovers anyway.

 

Zitao still wanted to stick to Wufan, no matter what.

 

But now, now Zitao was doing one of his biggest mistakes in life. He was, now, cuddling with Joonmyeon on the bench, looking up at him occasionally locking their lips together in a simple, loving kiss. He really had no idea why was he kissing this stranger, but the kisses made him feel a bit better about his condition, making him forget that he was sick, dying and he concentrated on the life he had been neglecting for the past month. He hated to see his body going worse, his ability to walk gone, but still forcing himself to walk, even if it hurt dearly, he would bite down on his bottom lip to prevent himself from crying and screaming in pain. He just wanted to be normal, once again.

 

Now, he felt normal as he slowly parted his lips for Joonmyeon, inviting him to deepen the kiss as they sat on the bench, still cuddling. Joonmyeon's whole body was almost on fire as he was kissing Zitao. He longed for that kiss in so long, yet, he never thought that the kiss would make him explode and give him weird thoughts of Zitao in bed.

 

He now wanted to go to the next step, Zitao in bed.

 

But the bed was his own car, since the apartment was crowded by Baekhyun and Chanyeol.

 

 

Placing Zitao on the back-seat, he smiled to himself as he watched the younger pant, struggling to say some words, but came out once again as muffled groans and moans as Joonmyeon attached his lips to the younger's neck, on it as he slowly undid the coat for Zitao, pulling it off his shoulders, fumbling with his shirt's buttons as he let Zitao undress him too.

 

 

Everything they did that day was a mistake for Zitao, a pleasure for Joonmyeon and a breaking heart for Wufan.

 

 

 

 

 

12th October 2013;

 

That day, Zitao was finally admitted in the national hospital of Hong Kong, as an emergency patient. He really did not know what emergency patient meant, but Joonmeyon explained to him every detail. His doctor was chewing the inside of his bottom lip as he watched every day, Zitao struggling to sit even on his as his speech was long gone.

 

His beautiful voice was gone. That day, Chanyeol cried so much that he fainted in the patient's room, having the nurse to take him to his own hospital room and give him the right proteins to come back as healthy as ever. Baekhyun, on the other hand, just silently cried, holding Zitao's hand as the younger's tears would fall uncontrollably for the whole day, knowing that his voice was gone and it would never come back, not even if a miracle would happen to him, he felt horrible.

 

He wasn't even able to look in Chanyeol's eyes, knowing that he was already hiding a secret.

 

**

I lost my voice.

My writing...is okay...for now.

I only can write small sentences.

Nothing much.

It's the black notebook.

In the pink one, I point at the words I want to say to Baekhyun, and he neatly writes them down, drawing the story too.

I'm sorry.

It hurts.

I need you here, Wufan.

I need you.

 

**

Wufan smiled, winking at his mother as they shopped around Vancouver, laughing together. "I'm so happy you bought me the tickets and I'm leaving in two weeks! It's just, wow!" he whisper-shouted, hugging the living out of his mother, kissing her cheek.

 

"You love that boy so much, you deserve to meet him."

 

 

 

 

16th October 2013;

 

Hello, I'm Baekhyun. I'm writing this for Zitao, in the pink notebook.

Zitao is now sleeping, but I'd like to tell you some words that he tried to point on the board the nurses gave him not long ago, just yesterday. Zitao already lost his writing too. The disease is horrible. He can't even stop himself from crying; only pointing to the characters of your name, every day.

He begun eating more slowly too, choking when trying to swallow.

Wufan, help him.

He needs you, but you can't see this message yet, you're miles away. I wish I could call you, to make you come over with Chanyeol's friend's help, Joonmyeon. He would give you his jet for him, but Joonmyeon lately is a horrible person, he used Zitao.

 

I'll tell more when Zitao's ready to spill the beans. Till then, I'll leave you a sketch of Zitao's sleeping. Actually, it's not a sketch; it's a painting that I've made.

 

**

 

Zitao spend his day sleeping, only waking up when the nurses told him to make a test, physical and mental, to check on his condition. He felt tired most of the time, looking at his best friend and soul mate as they were always there, always in the same room, being with him every day. Smiling, he looked at the nurse, letting her know by only his eyes that he wanted to say something.

 

The nurse pulled the board for him, smiling as she helped him form a sentence for Chanyeol.

 

Aren't...you...going...to...school?

 

"I froze my year for you. I don't ing care if I will be one year behind, I need to be here for you." Chanyeol smiled, hugging Zitao softly, being afraid that he would crush his tired bones and limbs.

 

But...the...studies...are...expensive...

 

"I know, the studies are indeed expensive, but Joonmyeon agreed on helping me. I don't know what is with that boy."

 

He's...weird...

 

Chanyeol laughed, rolling his eyes. "He is, but he's a helping friend."

 

He...is. Only if...I were...healthy...

 

"Don't say that. I know you would like to babble about if you were healthy none of those would happen, etc. It happened. We have to be strong for each other until the very end." Chanyeol whispered. "Baek, Tao wants to talk to you too."

 

Standing up from his seat, where he was drawing, Baekhyun came on the other side of the bed, shooing the nurse out of the room after she made all of her tests for the "disease progression" paper the doctor needed.

 

What...about...you?

 

"I never froze my year. Never. I just calmly spoke with my teacher and he said that Claus will give me the lessons and will do more work at home. Why do you think I'm always in that laptop, drawing?" Baekhyun laughed, hugging Zitao too.

 

Oh...I'm...glad

 

"It's hard for you to talk in Korean now, right?"

 

Yes.

 

"But you feel more comfortable with Chinese since Chinese has more characters?"

 

Yes.

 

 

 

 

23rd October 2013;

 

Yeol here. It's the pink notebook again. I drew this for you, Fannie. It's Zitao trying to eat. It's a memory. Oh, I'll have to tell you something, Zitao is kinda sick as you know, and he's going to leave us soon. I don't know when, but he will.

 

He wants to write you a message before he leaves. :)

 

No worries, I'll help him. Me and Baekhyun got his back. Even his mother, who is in Qingdao -she can't bear seeing her child like that, even though she Skype’s with him even in this very moment- is here to support him. Would you support him too? You're being actually a horrible person for not being interested in any of his doings in the past month.

 

Please, stop being a pain in the .

 

 

 

 

 

28th October 2013;

 

"You know," Joonmyeon started as he looked out on the window, smiling to himself. "I kind of lied. I don't really want to help Chanyeol, simply because he is your friend. And why should I help someone who is as dumb as you?"

 

Zitao just sat there, looking at him with nothing but tears in his eyes, as if they were begging for Joonmyeon to help Chanyeol in the future.

 

"But," the later continued, turning around to face the younger, walking slowly towards him to cup his cheeks, wiping the tears away from his eyes, "I will help him. Only because you were such good 'one-night-stand'. I checked myself right after we did it, to see if I'm healthy. And I am. You are too. Healthy on the ual part, because the other parts, failure is written all over it. Anyway, to be honest, I really don't want to help him. Not until he agrees to sleep with me. But then again, I think about you and bop!, all of the goes to you. Ahh, how much I'd like to have you in my bed again, but you can't do anything now. You're way too weak for this." he laughed, bringing his face closer to the others, knocking their foreheads together. "But now, I'll just leave. But before I leave, I need to claim your lips once again," he smiled, pressing his lips on Zitao's, closing his eyes to feel the moment.

 

Zitao, during the kiss, only thought of Wufan. Of how mad the older would be if he would know that he was doing right now.

 

He felt scared.

 

But then again, he would do anything for Chanyeol to go back to his own college, to graduate and be happy. To have a family, to find someone to love and marry. To live and visit him, to update him. He would watch over him as he grew up in a fine man.

 

And same would go for Baekhyun too. He would watch over him, protect him from the bad, and just give him light for everything that came up in life.

 

"Good boy," he smiled, looking at the patient before standing up slowly, walking to the door to greet Chanyeol who was glaring at him.

 

"You kissed my soul mate."

 

"And? Be glad I'll help you."

 

 

 

3rd November 2013;

 

The doctors sat outside the room, looking at the boy inside the room that wasn't eating in a week now. He couldn't eat. Not even drink. This broke the hearts of the nurses who already became friendly with Zitao, a patient full of smiles that even if he was hurting, he still knew that a smile would make the world work with more joy. Not for him, but maybe for others.

 

"He's going to pass away these days, his body is giving up so quickly on everything. But he's still a fighter over this disease. I found out," one of the doctors started, folding his arms in front of his chest, “that his disease was already around ten years ago. So, you can clearly say that his body fought a lot until it lost and now the disease is coming in full force, taking over in just a couple of months."

 

The other doctors hummed in approval, making Zitao's doctor frown. "I'm afraid he won't live till next week." he dropped the bomb, biting his lower lip.

 

**

 

"Chanyeol," the doctor started, looking at him. "We have to talk." he whispered, looking at Zitao who was once again asleep on his bed.

 

"Sure." the other smiled, standing up from his seat, walking out with the doctor towards the cafeteria, the doctor inviting him for a cup of coffee. "What's up, doc?"

 

The Bugs Bunny line that Zitao adored.

 

"You have to call his mother. You have to already prepare the funeral...I'm so sorry Chanyeol." the doctor simply said, tears already falling out of his eyes. The doctor was always there for Zitao. Ever since Zitao had his first head aches. He was Zitao's friend for so long...He even dropped his job in Qingdao to follow Zitao to Hong Kong, making sure he was okay, which was not what he wanted.

 

Chanyeol sat there, with the coffee cup in front of his lips, not taking the sip he wanted to. "What?" he whispered, looking at the doctor, his eyes sparkling with tears. "You tell me that..."

 

"Yes. He's not aware of that, but he will die by the end of the week. He won't survive until Christmas. We found out that the disease was already there for ten years. I was so careless." the doctor sighed, trying not to loudly cry in front of the other patients and doctors that were watching him. "I'm so sorry..."

 

**

 

Chanyeol dragged himself back to the other's room. His eyes were burning from all of the crying, puffier than the first time he got to know about the disease. He felt his heart heavy, knowing that his best friend would be away forever, but in the same time here, buried several feet under him, where he could only sit and sleep. Sleep forever, for the rest of his days while his soul was wandering around in the clouds.

 

The tall boy felt his heart stopping beating as he watched Zitao nod his head, smiling when Baekhyun showed him a couple of paintings he just finished. Chanyeol felt like screaming.

 

And that's what he did. Chanyeol ran away in the cold afternoon, in the nearby park, going by the lake to scream his lungs out and cry, falling on his knees as he, an atheist, begging the Gods to give Zitao more days. More days to be with him, to be with everyone, to be healthy. He wanted so badly a miracle to happen, to wake up from this dream that was ripping his being in million of pieces.

 

"Don't take him away!" he cried, his hands clenched on the sweater, where his heart was. He felt like he couldn't breathe anymore. He felt like he was going to die in the same time as his soul mate. And for sure, he was going to since every single of Zitao's pain were going to him too.

 

**

 

"Mama?" Chanyeol whispered as he sat on the bench in the park, looking at the night sky of Hong Kong.

 

"What is it Chanyeol? What happened with my baby?" the familiar voice. Zitao's mother's voice was broken, probably from crying too.

 

"The doctor said to already prepare his funeral...He won't...come alive after this week." he sobbed into the phone, hearing his dear mother's voice gasp before sobs came out too. "Mama, don't cry." he cried harder, hugging his knees.

 

Zitao's mother.

 

She was a kind woman, with a heart that was as big as the universe. Her features were forever young just like her young personality. Even if she was old, she would stay young at heart. Whenever Chanyeol had any problems in life, she would be the first one to help him. And since that very day when Chanyeol ran away from his home, he allowed himself to call her like his own mother, since she knew that the relationship between him and her son was special. Not lovers, but friends that could die for each other.

 

And then, Baekhyun came along too. She met Baekhyun though Skype, where Zitao was trying to eat his meal for the day. Baekhyun chatted with his mother, expressing clear that he was grateful to her to give to the world such beautiful son.

 

"He's like my very own brother that I never had," Baekhyun smiled to the screen, making Zitao's mother blush at the words. A little squeal escaped her lips as she bowed her head.

 

"You're too sweet, Baekhyun. How can you be so sweet?"

 

"No, I'm not. You're the sweetest. You're a true honey towards me, Chanyeol and your very own son, Zitao. You really give me hope that there are mothers that love their children very much, just like my own mother."

 

**

 

Baekhyun took it pretty calmly, when Chanyeol told him the sad news. He saw it coming.

 

"I'm sorry that I only met him in September, tho."

 

"Yeah, that's the ugliest part of them all."

 

 

5th November 2013;

 

It was the day when Zitao had to make a little will. He didn't really know what to write, but he did it anyway, with the help of Baekhyun and Chanyeol, who were obviously by his side every day, only missing the seconds while they were at the bathroom.

 

Zitao always liked how good Chanyeol and Baekhyun were doing as friend, but Zitao always thought that the two would be more than friends. He just slapped his lips shut and never spoke about this with anyone, ever.

 

Outside was raining, and Zitao's mood was so gloomy. He wasn't smiling like he did every day, to his friends. No, he was just staring out on the window, waiting for death to cover him up with its black cloth, taking him away from everyone and everything. And here he was, loosing himself in the rain, feeling like he was one of the very drops that were hitting the window, sliding down until they melted in each other, becoming one. Zitao wanted to become one with the sky. And he knew he would.

 

Then again, Zitao wanted to live and continue his life as a fashion designer student and in the future to become the biggest fashion designer that world ever met. But, he was ripped off that dream, because of a disease.

 

Every time he would think about it, he would cry himself to sleep, but now he couldn't even cry properly now because it would just tire him more and that would just bring his death faster.

 

"So. What do you want to write in your will?" Chanyeol asked, knowing that Zitao would not respond, just sigh when he could. Chanyeol did nothing more, consulting Baekhyun on what things he would write there.

 

"I don't think we should make him a will. He's not rich, or has children or anything. We should just fairly put between the two of us, and Wufan -if he would want- to get some of this things like painting tools, etc."

 

"That's good..."

 

**

Baekhyun hugged for the last time Zitao before walking out with Chanyeol in the rainy day of November, going to buy some food for them. They smiled to each other as they held hands, sharing one umbrella, walking down the street to the grocery shop. They just wanted a cup of instant noodles so they can warm up their throats, a little bit of a sweet cake and a coffee. They needed a coffee.

 

"I have to tell you something quite important, Chan." the shorter suddenly spoke as they sat in the small coffee shop, sipping on the content of his cup looking with sad eyes at Chanyeol.

 

"What is it?" Chanyeol mumbled his mouth full of the cake he was eating.

 

"Tao kind of lied to you..."

 

"He did what?" Chanyeol mumbled, looking up at Baekhyun, surprising the other. A soft yelp left Baekhyun's lips as he nodded his head, smiling sadly at the other.

 

"Remember the time when Joonmyeon kissed him and you were ragging about it?"

 

"Yes?"

 

Baekhyun didn't know how to place it with the best words for Chanyeol to understand the gravity of the situation, but he tried his best. "Firstly promise me you won't shout. I really like this shop, I don't want to get kicked out." he smiled, interlinking his fingers with Chanyeol's.

 

"S-sure?"

 

"Good. Now, listen to me." Baekhyun started, squeezing Chanyeol's hand just a bit as he placed the cup down. "Tao kind of cheated on Wufan with Joonmyeon. The day when they went in the park together, they ended up kissing and making out and having in Joonmyeon's car." the older whispered, not trying to sound too casual even though such subject was one usual subject for him. …? Nothing that he wouldn't be ashamed of. Everyone did it once in their lives, why would he be ashamed anyway?

 

Chanyeol stared at Baekhyun a couple of minutes, which actually were seconds, trying to process the information that just left the elder’s lips. Joonmyeon and...Zitao…? Wait, what?

 

"What? They did what?"

 

**

 

"Huang mother ing Zitao, how can you do this to you, to Wufan?! He is your ing boyfriend and you go hop on other's because of what? ual frustration at its finest? Please, you can't be that low. I know you for so long Zitao. I know everything about you, but you're just plain stupid to have with Joonmyeon! What you felt during that? Pleasure? That should be disgust for you touching in the first place someone who actually isn't yours, just a random stranger that would help me in the future. That's why Joonmyeon wants to help me? Because you were a good ? Zitao how could you! I poured my trust in your relationship with Wufan, knowing that you two would come to an end, to be happy together and you do that? You randomly a handsome stranger and him?" Chanyeol roared, throwing his hands in the air as he looked with fierce eyes at Zitao who just continued staring out on the window.

 

"He's not going to reply anyway..." Baekhyun sighed, rubbing his temples as he heard the screaming for the past five minutes, walking towards Chanyeol, placing one of his hands on the other's chest only to calm him down. "It's going to be okay; I made him agree to write something for Wufan. To write an apology letter on Facebook, look." Baekhyun sighed, opening the laptop to log on Zitao's Facebook, showing Chanyeol the message.

 

 

I'm a complete idiot, you know that? I did something I'm ashamed of, something that would kill everything between the two of us. We were doing so fine, but now I am dying. Tomorrow, today, I don't know. But I am dying. Anyway, this is not important for now; let me explain why I'm writing this. I cheated.

 

For only a time, but I did anyway. I kissed a boy, who I knew for like, four days, and ended up having with him in the backseat of his car. You can think of me as a filthy , but I had my reasons. Chanyeol froze his school year for me, to help me while I was in hospital, to change me,  he washes me. And you know how expensive is to travel from South Korea to Hong Kong almost daily as he tried to do? That's why I slept with Joonmyeon, because he could have everything prepared for Chanyeol. Everything. He gave Chanyeol a jet to use it freely whenever he wanted to come here, he is willing to help the other when he will come back to school the next year. He is a wonderful person; and I am not.

 

I did do all of these things out of love for him, not for anyone else. And now I am apologizing to you, because you're the one who stole my heart, who will never give it back. I don't care. I wrote two notebooks. It's time to tell you about my condition and my notebooks.

 

I have spinocellebellar-degeneration. I'm pretty sure you know what it is. And I'm dying, tomorrow, today...I still don't know. Anyway, I have two notebooks that I would like to give you.

 

The pink one is filled with our memories, my friend's scribbles during my sickness period, and of course, the black one is my failed attempts of writing anything for you. I mostly wrote "I'm hurt", "I need you" and "I love you" in Chinese, practicing until I lost everything. I can't write anymore, I can't speak, walk, talk or eat. Everything you read now is written by Baekhyun.

 

(Hello! I'm Byun Baekhyun, Zitao's friend.)

 

Anyway, all I want to say it's that I love you, I'm sorry and goodbye.

 

--Seen: 3:45p.m; Today--

 

"He saw it! Zitao, Wufan is online." Baekhyun shouted happily, showing it to Zitao as the youngest just blinked at the message.

 

Its okay, my dear. I understand. I'm in the plane, coming to Hong Kong.

Actually, right now I am crying next to this weird dude that has painted his face white. Is he a rocker? I don't know. But then again, I accept your apology, since I love you so much and I don't care if you did such thing to me, it's not like you love him, or like him. I understand. I would have done so much more for my best friend, without thinking about the consequences first. :)

 

About the disease, I took an exam with it. Do you know how hard it was to write an essay about it?

I'm sorry that I can't be there faster; I'm in my plane. I would jump from the plane to get faster at you, to hug you, to kiss you and bid you good-bye but I'll probably just be there in two days.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

 

 

 

**

 

I love you.

 

The words were implanted in Zitao's head, as he closed his eyes, letting the darkness take over his being. He already felt like it was the end. His life would end so briefly, without kissing anyone goodbye, without any hugs. He couldn't even say a proper good-bye before he would leave for the other world, where no one knew what it would happen.

 

He just felt himself heavier, feeling like he was ready to break the bed as his face was buried into the pillows and couldn't breathe anymore. His breathe was long gone and he also knew that he was slowly going back to his origins, where he did come from. He felt his lips stretching in a soft smile as he watched himself in a white room, full of doors. He knew nothing of those doors, but whenever he would enter, darkness would just get him away from the loved ones.

 

Goodbye Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Wufan, mama, Yixing...Goodbye Taehyung, Hakyeon...Jongin, Jongdae,Joonmyeon.

 

But, goodbye to me. To my being, to my flesh and to my bones. To everything that I exist. Now Zitao doesn't exists anymore, he's just someone that was, once, on Earth.

 

 

**

 

"No." Baekhyun screamed, when he saw Zitao close his eyes, his heart rate dropping. "No, no, no!" he screamed again, running to the bed, pushing the red button, seeing immediately nurses and his doctor almost flying to his bed only to take care of him. "No...Chanyeol, no!" he yelled, dropping on the floor next to Chanyeol who was almost loosing his breathe from crying. "Chanyeol, breathe...Please...Zitao...don't..."

 

"300!" he heard the doctor yell at the nurse as he was already performing a CPR on his patient. "Don't leave me, you idiot. Don't you dare to." the doctor mumbled, biting down his tears as he tried his best to keep Zitao's heart alive.

 

But there was no chance for Zitao to live again. He was long gone, and he was happy where he was now, in his pit of darkness. He wanted to see everyone smiling; he wanted everyone to have a smile on their lips as he left the world, not just ugly tears. He wanted happiness, not sadness. They should be happy for him, that he fought bravely the disease, and even though he died, he was now free from everything. From the medicines, from the struggling, from and every each word whispered between the doctors that he wouldn't make it.

 

He didn't, but he was in a happy place now, watching over the ones he loved.

 

"Time of death, 5:30p.m." the doctor sighed, looking down at the boy who was now with his eyes closed, his lips parted just a bit as if he was still breathing, creating the illusion he did when he didn't.

 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun sat on the floor, crying and hugging each other.

 

The nurses covered up Zitao's lifeless body, asking the two males on the floor if they wanted to say something before they would take Zitao's corpse to the morgue. They nodded in unison as they slowly stood up, walking towards the bed and pulling the cover off Zitao's face, showering him with tears, kisses and hugs before they kissed him one last time for a good-bye, letting the nurses take him to the morgue.

 

 

 

6th November 2013;

 

When everyone gathered, they were finally able to cry themselves when Zitao sat calmly, with his hands crossed in his coffin, walking together on his last way towards Qingdao's cemetery. Yixing, who was woken up in the middle of the night to receive the news, flew immediately to Zitao's mother country to be at least there for the last moments when he was able to hold his hand and bid goodbye.

 

His mother was devastated, holding her handkerchief in front of as she cried buckets of water when they finally put the coffin in the grave, making everyone hug each other as they stopped their breathes for a second.

 

They hated that Zitao had to leave, that he had to go somewhere they wouldn't be able to follow until the very end of their days, too. But they knew that they would meet the boy once again, when their time would call for them.

 

"I'm sorry," everyone would whisper as they parted ways out of the cemetery, hugging Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Zitao's mother, letting the three only to bow their heads, mumbling a small sentence for each and every one of them.

 

 

 

"Boys, can you leave me alone for a while? I'll be going back to my baby." she smiled, walking once again to her son's grave, kneeling down and ending up crying, praying the heavens for his safety up there, next to the other who have left the world.

 

 

 

 

7th November 2013;

 

With heavy steps, he walked to the small porch of the little graveyard, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands, his blonde locks being soaked by the rain that had just stopped, the sun almost blinding everyone around, but him. His head was hung low, only looking at his polished shoes as he walked to the certain gravestone, mumbling to himself apologies over and over again. It hurt him to know he had lost another person dear to him, a person he had loved from the bottom of his heart, but he understood that it also was his own fault for not acting faster and trying to help. He was clueless at the pain, his late lover carried on his shoulders, and now he regretted every minute of not being there for him, when he was needed the most.

 

Inhaling deeply the cold air of November, exactly one day after his supposed-to-be happy birthday, he arrived in Qingdao, to cry his heart out in front of the lover that was now peacefully resting buried several feet below him.

 

Arriving in front of the stone, he took a deep breathe, trying to calm himself down. It was happening. He was really there, it wasn't a fantasy or a bad dream, and it was the cruel reality of his ignorance. He blamed himself for everything that happened in the past months. Not even twelve months, barely five months of a bright relationship, and he was gone.

 

Kneeling down, he carefully placed the flowers on top of the grave, with his free hand tracing the stone to the photo that was used in memory of the dead, a tear rolling down his cheek as he looked at the smiling photo of the boy who was just few weeks ago still alive, in a hospital bed, but still alive.

 

"ZiTao..." he softly whispered, looking at the Chinese characters from the 'good-bye' message that the boy's parents and himself wrote for ZiTao. "Nothing is impossible for you, Huang ZiTao, so this is just a little step before we actually get to see each other again, and be happy forever." he continued to whisper, feeling like someone or something was watching him. If he'd know only that Tao was actually watching from up there, crying because he couldn't embrace the older and kiss him goodbye.

 

**

Weeks ago, WuFan was just finishing his college reports, burying his face into the books and trying to focus himself on the work for his exams, his mind clearly running to the boy in Hong Kong that was impatiently waiting for them to chat on the social network once again. Yet, he didn't know that the art student that was currently in Hong Kong was carrying pain on his shoulders, barely speaking now, his sounds coming more like whines and failed attempts to even say mother.

 

**

"You must be WuFan, right?" a quiet, tall and grown up woman approached the blonde, carrying too a fresh bouquet of lilies, her attire being the traditional black for the ones who still cried for the dead. "I've heard so much about you, my dear..."

 

The blonde raised his head up, looking at the lady, softly nodding his head at the question, smiling a bit at the statement. It must be his mother, he thought as he quickly helped the middle-aged lady to put the flowers on top of the closed grave, smiling sadly as he fished into her purse to take out something, a photo. "I'd like to put more photos around the tombstone, so we can remember the 'gold' days of his living on this Earth."

 

"You must love your son so much...He was the only child if I'm not mistaken, right?" WuFan slowly asked, looking at the picture with Tao that he had seen on the boy's Facebook account two months ago. That picture showed the boy smiling, in front of his college with a proud pose and his diploma for a contest that he won at fashion design. It was next to his death photo, where he was smiling brightly.

 

"He was. I've lost the only boy that I had...The boy that was lazy, but worked hard for his place in the world...He was so young."

 

"Nineteen...Indeed young..." WuFan sighed, bringing his hand to the inside pocket of his suit's jacket, taking out a little box and an envelope. "I'd like...uhm...five minutes alone?" he quietly asked, signaling that he'd like to expose the unread letter to the boy who might be listening to him, even if he wasn't around the living ones anymore.

 

Smiling sadly, ZiTao's mother smiled, kissing WuFan's temple as a sign of a sad mother who just wanted someone there to be with her, to remind her that she had one of the best happenings in all her sixty years of living. "Before I leave, would you mind to tell me your phone number? I believe you don't have a place to stay for the night, besides paying for a hotel room, so I'd like to take you inside my, no, our house, and let you sleep as much as your heart needs..." she kindly and softly spoke, the blonde locks as she watched WuFan put down the box and envelope, taking out his phone from his pant's pocket. Taking out her own phone -bought by ZiTao when she couldn't even see the numbers of her old, little phone -typing WuFan's number and thanking him before taking her leave.

 

WuFan waited. He wanted to be as alone as he could be to cry his heart out, to shout, to rip everything and most importantly, to place the box in its meant place; ZiTao's fingers. He knew though that he couldn't just break into the grave, take out the dead's hand and place the ring on it, no. He'd just make a small space for it to be buried along with the corpse of the loved one.

 

Once ZiTao's mother disappeared, he sighed, finally letting the tears roll down his cheeks, biting his lower lip to prevent himself from giving out any sounds of pain that kept punching his heart. "I'm sorry..." he chocked, immediately fumbling to grab the envelope, ripping it open and taking out a A4 paper, filled with his own writing.

 

"It's late. I planned to read it to you as I drop by for Christmas, to be your Christmas present, me, myself...But those unfortunate happenings blocked everything." he begun, clearing his throat a few times by coughing out all the sobs, taking a deep breathe before he finally started speaking again. "I will start reading it, ZiTao. You might not see me right now as I read it to you with your beautiful orbs, to admire something you have seen only in pictures, rarely in videos, but I'd like you to hear, from whenever you are right now:

 

Hello, I am Wu YiFan, going by WuFan, YiFan, FanFan but mostly known as Kris. I am twenty-two years old, a real idiot born on 6th November 1991. I am, or was, a marine student. I have transferred recently after convincing my mother, with a lot of effort, to take medicine because I simply like it and I'd like to protect you too.

 

I love you. It might sound direct, after we've been talking for three months, maybe less since I'd be not tagged as a douche for not being online to talk to you more, to know you deeper, and to have you tell me your hobbies and such. I do know that you enjoy drawing, you like Korean Pop, you do wushu and your love for the expensive Italian brand, GUCCI, is undying. But here I am, sending you this letter to know that I'm real, to know that I exist and I'm not some random stranger that wants to be bad to you, to hurt you. I'd never do that, but without realizing it, I did.

 

I have hurt you, I know. Since I got enough death threats from your best friend, Park Chanyeol, who said he'd buy the first plane ticket and come to Canada to chop me and throw me in the nearest sea or ocean, and never be found. I'm sorry for not being online to talk to you. You'd probably say by now 'Its okay, its school. You're busy.' but deep inside you'd think I'd cheat on you or care for another one, forgetting about you. No, I love you, no matter what.

 

Now, this letter isn't a big, cheesy one. No, I can't write this. I simply can't. But instead, I have bought you a ring. A hope ring, a love ring. I don't know how you'd call it, but I'd like you to wear it. Even if we'd ever separate our lives, to find a better place in another's heart, I'd like you to wear it, to keep the beautiful memories tucked inside your heart, emptying your heart from the bad ones. On it, the ring, I have engraved my own name, Wu YiFan, along with a little heart and your name's initials, HZT. I did the same for mine, Huang ZiTao, the heart symbol, WYF. Hope you'll like it.

 

I had no internet and phone for two months to buy the most expensive rings for us, golden rings. They're used for engagement or marriage, or that's what the lady told me as a lie, but I'd still like you to wear it gracefully on your ring finger, just like we're married." WuFan stopped, gulping down his saliva, clearing his throat and starting to read the last few sentences from the letter before he's officially present the ring. "You're one that made my days happier. Your shy persona around new people is simply cute and I'm fascinated how you were so talkative around me. I'd like to hear your voice singing, but I have never had the time to listen to it, because of my busy school schedule. I'm sorry, again.

 

Words might not seem like a big deal, but before I can meet you, I'd just want you to know my thoughts, a bit about me, not too much, because then we'd have nothing to chat about when the subject drops to our personal information," he chuckled, continuing."At our first meeting, since it would be probably the airport, I'd take you nicely by the waist, hugging you as close as I can before kissing you softly, on those perfect lips that were sculpted by Him. I'd take them in my own, moving them in a soft motion, not caring if there were people that believed that homouality is a sin. Yes, it might be, for them. But love it isn't. Hearts aren't programmed to love a girl or a boy. Hearts don't own their own minds, to have a logic order. They just beat faster for the one that makes it happy, for the one that's there for them, forever. Not only in front of it, outside, but also at a long distance, by thinking and speaking about it.

 

I might be boring now, hope you didn't fall asleep! Hey! Wakey-wakey, little panda, it's the time to say my good-bye...

 

I love you. I will always do! And please, wear the ring. I'm wearing this as I write this letter for you.

 

I'm hoping that soon I can wrap my arms around you and hold you close to me, never letting go.

Once again, I love you,

 

Kris."

 

**

 

The steam from the cup was enough to tell WuFan that he shouldn't touch the mug yet, his fear for hot things killing him slowly and painfully. And he still needed his tongue to communicate with ZiTao's mother, with his own mother and other human beings that never shut their traps for even a second.

 

"He was a wonderful boy, WuFan..." his mother started as she already took a huge gulp of the bitter green tea from her mug, not caring too much about how hot it was or how much damages it would do to her tongue, throat or stomach. It was cold outside, she needed to feel herself warm, if there wasn't her precious boy to wrap his long arms around her, kiss her cheek and tell her that he loved her over and over again until she'd snap and tell him to go back to his room.

 

"I know," WuFan smiled, finally taking the courage to at least pick up the mug -firstly pulling his sweater's sleeves as much as he could to cover his large palms- and bring it to his lips to blow cold air so he could finally take a sip of his favorite tea. "I have talked to him, not too much, not too less...Okay, maybe too less, but I've seen how much of a mature, wonderful, cheerful boy he was."

 

"He was my only sunshine after my husband had chosen the alcohol instead of his own family," the old woman started, looking outside. It was already getting pretty dark even though it was only five pm. "You wouldn't mind sharing my life with you, right?"

 

"Oh? Of course not Mrs. Huang...You're in pain, you need someone to talk to so you can take out your stress and then slowly drift to a relaxing sleep." he smiled sweetly, taking a sip of the tea. "I'd like to hear experiences from your past or ZiTao's."

 

"Well, ZiTao grew up pretty much without a father, and probably that's why he became more feminine in the chapter of liking men, not women, because I've always been with one eye looking for someone to keep me company, as a lady too. He probably thought that was the right thing, but as he grew up he understood that it wasn't exactly right. I let him be."

 

WuFan nodded, taking another sip of the tea, looking around the room. There were a lot of trophies and medals, photos of his glorious wins and even a magazine with his signature. The older smiled. How much he would have enjoyed to be there for all of those wins, to wrap his arms around ZiTao's waist and spun him around, kissing his forehead and telling him he did great.

 

"I'll show you his room...And because you were someone so important to ZiTao, you may use his room to rest while you're here." she softly spoke, pushing the chair back to slowly stand up, immediately disappearing in the little hallway. "I'm not going to do anything to the room in particular, only turn on the heater since ZiTao's room was always the coldest." she mumbled on her way, WuFan right behind her with the mug glued to his hand.

 

"It's really okay, I just need a blanket and I'm all set." he smiled, entering behind her in ZiTao's room. It was simple. A bed in the middle of the room, by the window was the desk with the laptop, a book shelf filled with a lot of books in Chinese, Korean and English, as WuFan saw, and around a lot of paintings, drawings or simple sketches.

 

"It's a bit dusty, because I haven't done anything to it, but you can manage, right?" ZiTao's mother spoke softly, turning on the heater before walking hurriedly to the door. "You may look around and see. If you want to access his computer, his password is TaoZi." she smiled, bowing softly before taking her leave, slowly closing the door behind her.

 

WuFan didn't know what to do. He couldn't even move. He have always dreamed to be in the room that he rarely saw on the pictures sent by ZiTao, but he never thought that he'd actually step inside it, to meet the cold of no one using it.

 

Sighing, he looked around, taking a seat on the chair at the desk, taking a good look at every item that lied in the same way as ZiTao left them, few weeks ago. His hands came in contact, eventually, with a notebook. A pink notebook, which made WuFan chuckle at the chosen color of the pretty stuffed book, which had few pictures that were almost slipping out of it. WuFan made sure to put them back in their place, without opening the notebook yet. He wanted to see the insides page with page, and eventually read everything word with word, wanting to know everything that he didn't had time to know about ZiTao.

 

Time. Now it seemed so useless for WuFan to say the word, since there was no time left. No time to catch up with everything that was done, said and lived by the one he truly loved. The seconds passed way too fast, slapping him across the face with a force that he almost fell in the same situation as ZiTao, but earlier; death. WuFan still wanted to deny that he was half of a step closer to an unknown death as he stopped using his time for sleeping, only for studying for the upcoming exams, everything for ZiTao. Time had other plans, though. A prank on WuFan was done by those horrible seconds, pulling the loved one in the game of death, not himself.

 

Smiling at the pink notebook, he undid the little bow that kept it closed from anyone to see. On the front cover, in the middle of this entire pink ocean, there laid five words, neatly written in Chinese:

 

Only for WuFan to see.

 

Finally getting rid of the bow, he slowly opened the notebook. The cracking sound of the freshly opened little book echoed the silent room in which WuFan was, making him a bit nervous of what he'd find there, in the pink treasure book. A little gasp left WuFan's lips, almost instantly followed by a sweet smile as he saw a drawing. An imaginative drawing, a dream of ZiTao's: their first kiss, portrayed by the young artist. It looked like a picture despite the lines of the page. Only in crayons, the two protagonists of the first page had their lips connected in a loving kiss, in something that was magic, while their hands were on each other's cheeks, pulling them closer and closer. WuFan smiled, his had falling back as he looked hopelessly yet dreamy at the ceiling, imagining how soft would have those lips felt on his own. Chuckling, he returned, now reading the first words that were still neatly laid there, each character having a pretty font, probably created by ZiTao himself, only for WuFan to see.

 

Our first kiss, or that's how I'd like it to be. I'm not good at describing kisses in words or drawings, because each kiss shared has its special meaning. Some of them are happy, sad, hungry, lust-filled...But that's how I'd imagine our kiss to be. Tell me, once you're done reading this, and already kissed my lips, is this a good drawing of our first lip-lock or should I re-do it?

 

WuFan's smile dropped slowly. "I'd tell you that are perfect. That everything you have to give me, its perfect." he whispered, turning the page to see a couple of other drawings, staring to read once again. The first drawing showed a sketch of ZiTao, who was cutely pressing his index finger on his lips.

 

Ge! Now that you've come to read this..., I should introduce the notebook. It's pink, but it was the last one. Sorry. This notebook's purpose is to keep every memory I make with you, virtually, and after we'll finally meet each other, in real. I know you'd forget essential things like our first day when we started talking, our first fight, etc. But those are dates that should be always remembered, because they're memories. Ge, should we go?

 

The older nodded to himself, looking at the other pages, doing the same thing, flipping every page, curiously reading each sentence, sometimes feeling his heart being torn apart as he was always punched in the face by the reality, telling him that ZiTao wasn't washing himself in the bathroom, or eating a late-night snack in his kitchen, or doing anything in particular. No, ZiTao was in inside a wooden coffin, buried several feet below him as his soul was already resting in peace on the clouds.

 

He shortly moved into ZiTao's bed, still reading the pages, tears silently falling as his free hand was around the little teddy bear, named after him; WuFan, by a really funny conversation that the late lover wrote, word with word in the pink notebook. WuFan, quietly sobbing, felt the pain of his chest growing bigger and bigger, his unhealed wounds of the unhappy ending were haunting him, thinking of the curse that was lied over him at birth, thinking that he have done something to ruin the God's peace so he cannot be happy in the present time, as his lovers seemed to be here for a while, then gone forever, from each and everyone's lives, not only his.

 

His sobs became more violent after he took the second notebook, the black notebook which he already understood what it meant, the horrible life of ZiTao as his health degraded day by day, hour by hour. With shaky handwriting, ZiTao have wrote in the forth month everything, which shattered WuFan into million of pieces.

 

He was lost and has lost another one, another love.

 

 

 

 

 

Five days have passed by, WuFan locked inside his room back in Canada, hugging the plush toy as he tried to calm himself down, to think of a positive or alternative ending of the relationship, it didn't work. It felt so useless for him and for the society to keep on crying, so by the fifth day, he stopped shedding tears that were already spilled to the point he couldn't even understand why he was trying to cry.

 

His mother, being an understanding person, let him alone inside his room of his own apartment, letting him cry.

 

It hurt, dearly, to finally be hit by the reality that ZiTao was gone, forever. It was killing him, it was ripping him as badly as the first death of his last lover; Kevin Woo. The poor boy, which was older, died by heart attack during one of his exams, which took WuFan in a shock state for over two months. Yet, Kevin was never his lover. Not even a date; he was still being courted by WuFan, who wanted to take it slowly, to start something that would go for years; decades.

 

By the tenth day, WuFan had a panic attack, and because he was alone, he felt like he needed to put the whole apartment upside down, maybe finding ZiTao hiding under one spot, telling him everything it was a joke for him to see how faithful he was being over him, but once again, the fear of being left alone once again, made him almost commit suicide if ZiTao's best friend, YiXing wasn't happening to pass by in a day -as he was now visiting Canada with his parents-, know the address from ZiTao, who have told him in a last letter to go if he could and see how the older was doing.

 

Eleventh day passed by a blur for WuFan, who was now resisting the urge to do something completely out of his mind, drowning his sorrow in alcohol. Bottles were empty, still filled with the booze or simply not opened but all lied in all sort of places inside the small apartment, leaving the powerful message of sadness and anger.

 

Sadness was for the lost, for everything that he missed in those months, that he wasn't able to graduate as a doctor and feel himself up and ready to find a perfect cure for ZiTao's genetic disease that he had possessed, yet the anger was thrown all at him. For being an idiot and bringing all the sadness to ZiTao and only the boy that left.

 

"I love you," he'd whisper every night, looking at the pretty stars, knowing hat up there, ZiTao was one too. "And I'm sorry."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Goodbye."