It was six pm. Jiyoon had apparently decided to close early, ending his double shift rather early than usual. He picked up the mop and like a routine, the boy started to scrub the coffee house clean, choking at times when memories had randomly reappeared. Two years ago, though they never talked much, Changjo was there. This little errand was something they would always share. Then as he finished wiping the counter top, his eyes had paused on a ticket he had left behind hours ago.

After a few seconds, he grabbed it and stuffed it into his pockets as he snatched his navy leather jackets off the chair and ran out.

⇔

His breath was all over the place, heavy and needy of the air as he froze in front of the funfair. It looked exactly the same. It was the same ghost house, the same food bazaar and the same Ferris wheel. Slowly, he walked inside, passes the huge gates and as he scanned the whole place, the way it glowed made his heart heavy. He was greatful, that the memories were able to make him smile and wishing that Changjo was beside him gave him hope, strength to grow into a stronger person.

If possible, he thought, he would want to protect Changjo instead. This time, he wanted to be the one who would shield their love; he believed that he was strong enough.

He wanted to smile, to feel the flutters again but the longing was too loud in his mind, so he struggled to put on a happy face, a calm, not-heart-broken kind of expression. First, the haunted house. He smiled at the cashier and as he walked through the unlit path, he grinned since he could as if see Changjo walking ahead, protecting him from the monsters and screaming at the dummies. He remembered how the latter would insist on walking forward but somehow still inched back, hesitating. He could see it all, but the tears were making it hard for him to see properly, so he wiped his red, flushed eyes and continued walking.

Then after a few rounds, a few drinks, Changhyun stumbled to the Ferris wheel. Looking to his wristwatch, the young man laughed as he slipped the Won notes into the cashier’s counter. 10.01 PM. The wheel halted, with him in it, hanging at the highest point just like the first time.

“Changjo ya, I’m here… after so long I’m back. I’m waiting. Damn… the night its, beautiful with the full moon over me right now, everything just like before.”

“So please… come back. I’m ..ungh… here.”

The vessel stopped shrieking, it was frozen still as the steam had clouded the windows. Changhyun stopped too, the pain, the lump inside his chest stopped burning and the stinging screech inside his head had paused too. He screamed as loud as he could, closing his eyes and blinding himself from his own agony, his own reflection of pain from the glass. His hands clutched desperately on his chest, gripping the fibers as the whole vessel shook from his voice, loud but somehow inaudible to the world. He was dying inside the Ferris wheel and yet, the people below him were still smiling, everything was fine except his heart.

“AAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! DO RA WAAAAAAAA!!!!”

When he finally stepped out of the Ferris wheel, his face was pale and his eyes were bloodshot. He walked through the crowd, holding a bottle of beer in one hand while another held his smartphone, scrolling down the messages that were left unread. Ljoe was worried. And as he bumped his way against the flow, his blurry, drunken eyes had stopped on a figure that made his steps halt. He stood there, brows furrowed as he tried to focus on that specific back.

It was dreadfully familiar.

The bottle of beer dropped down to the ground, sounding extremely thunderous despite the noisy background. He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair again, taking away the glossy shreds from his eyes, dying for a better look as his lips started to curl. “aha…its Changjo…” then the sound of his palm, smacking against his flushed cheeks unintentionally brought the attention from the passer-by. “w..wake.. up Yoo Changhhie” he mumbled as he kept walking into a direction he didn’t plan causing him to stumble on a wooden stool.

He fell on his back, sloppily and embarrassingly. Again, the young man laughed as his eyes couldn’t stop from trailing the apparition of who he thinks was a delusion. But after a few seconds his frantic giggles ceased, as his gaze grew sharper and his mind suddenly became much more sober. It was not a delusion. No. He was never too drunk to begin with; his sharp, strong mentality could never falter so easily. “Changjo… it’s… Changjo…”

“Changjo!”

The young man hopped back up and immediately sprinted back into the dense crowd, shoving his petite body closer to where he had saw the man he was waiting for. “I’m almost there, please… wait” he grunted each time a larger person manages to push him back. “wait..”

His hands were bruised while his shoulders were constantly smashed against people who were taller, and yet Changhyun pushed his way through. Indeed, he was stronger, he would have needed Changjo’s help before but then, that moment, he made it all on his own sheer force. No one could stop him anymore. He gasped at the cold, freezing air, unfazed as he scanned the whole crowd. “Somewhere… he’s there.” He chanted as hot steaming air rushed out his two red, flushed lips.

Then like a ghost, the past came haunting back as Changhyun saw that two, deep blue eyes once again. It was indeed Changjo, paler, colder than ever, walking past him like he was nothing. He tried to keep up, sprinting rather as he chased the boy he had desperately searched for, but it was useless.

Like always, Changjo was gone.

The same jab of agony stung him right in the heart, a common feeling each time he got too close and lost all hopes, all trace of the man he loved. His fingers firmly grabbing the fibers of his cottony, grey t-shirt as his eyes reddened. Usually, such loss was merely a scratch, he had enough disappointment to cry over something that happened too often but then this time it was like a dream. He saw Changjo with his own eyes, with his own reliable senses and there he was running lost into a crowd and losing grasp of something so precious.

He lost his chance.

“… No. I had you Jonghyun, I had you”

Finally, as if his flesh had lost its soul, his knees came crashing down to the cold, dirty ground as his left hand gripped the gritty tar, supporting every last frail effort that was holding himself together. “I WON’T CRY” he growled, disgusted with his repeating failures as his nails dug through the fabric, cutting into his skin.