This was probably his retribution for all the horrible things he’d done. It was a befitting curse for a family as ruthless as his. All the murders, all the lives ruined because of the drugs they brought in, the families they broke apart because of gambling dens they set up. This was their payback. Had his father come to this conclusion? Had the grandparents he’d never met come to this conclusion as well? Was he the only successor that felt the least bit sorry for all the lives he had claimed? Was he the only weakling that allowed himself a conscience? Was he the only one suffering?

It had been a year since he visited his father. The man didn’t even remember him, going there would be pointless anyway. Knowing that he would soon end up like his father scared him. He didn’t want to be useless, always depending on the nurses to function normally. Baekhyun didn’t want to be seen as someone who needed taking care of, he didn’t want to be weak.

What would happen to her when he was finally reduced to the pathetic state his father was in? What would happen to this organisation, which his father had cruelly left him to struggle with? Would these people be able to live well without him? Baekhyun hoped that they wouldn’t, because that would mean he meant at least something to them. Forgetting people was scarier than it sounded. Having no memories was another form of loneliness. Not having someone beside you was one thing, not having at least a memory to hold on to was another. If asked which was more cruel, Baekhyun would say it was the latter.

That would mean he had something to miss, that he had, at one point in time, did something memorable. But if he had no memories it was as good as being dead for the past twenty three years of his life. He didn’t want that. Baekhyun would eventually forget everything, but the people around him won’t. He didn’t want to be remembered as someone who was already three parts dead.

So then what was the point of living if he wouldn’t even be able to recall anything five years down the road? What was the point of creating new memories when eventually, all this will be nothing. Maybe he was a coward; he feared death more than he thought he did. Would she bother to remember him if he couldn’t remember her? Baekhyun dared not venture for an answer.

It was terrifying having to live each day not knowing exactly when would the woman he had slept beside for the past four years become nothing but a stranger to him. When would this house, where he’d lived in together with his unborn son, become nothing but another lot in this neighborhood? Everything he had worked for will mean nothing eventually, simply because he just can’t remember. Everything was just going to burn away, like a light gone out.

It was so dark. His world was so dark.

~*~

Standing at the mouth of a street in Hongdae, all she could see was bright fluorescent lights of different neon colors. It was dark by the time they made a detour from the route to her house and came here on her request. She felt a bit bad, but Minseok was alright with it, he even seemed excited.

The activities weren’t much different from the previous time they came, but for some reason, she felt that she would have more fun today than before. Perhaps it was because she made herself not bother with anything else except having fun, either that, or she was starting to feel closer to Minseok. Unlike anyone she’s met before, he gave off so much positive vibes, that when put alone with him, she couldn’t help but have the happiness rub off on her as well.

And she wants to surround herself with such people. If the wrapping paper was pretty, the gift inside would be automatically be thought of in the same way. She knew living like that would just be a lie, but if it could take away some of her misery, then she would walk down that path.

Because living in a blissful lie seemed much more appealing than harsh reality.

"You know," Minseok started as they meandered through the crowd. "Ms. Jung sent us both invitations to her wedding."

"We have to be there anyway."

"But not as guests. She sent us those so we could come as guests."

"That’s not possible, we have to make sure everything’s smooth sailing, no time to make merry. Besides," she mumbled, looking down at ground. "I don’t want to see my classmates."

"Why not?"

"Did you forget? I got knocked up at the last year of high school and quit shortly after that. I don’t want to answer questions. I don’t want to lie. So I’ll just stay hidden in the back room. You can go as a guest, I think I can handle it on my own."

"You kidding? I’m still being observed. I have to at least act like I’m hard working, no?"

"And you think telling me, the one who is reporting your progress, all that is a wise choice?" She countered jokingly.

"We’re same age, come on."

"Still your superior," she sang lightly. "But why did you want this job? What did you study in college?"

"Some useless stuff," he mumbled. "I just like the idea of making fairytales come to life. You know, they always say ‘fairytale weddings’. Those two go together."

"A fairytale is a fairytale, Minseok. Trying to make it happen in reality," she said, "is lying to yourself."

"I guess you’re right." He sighed. "Hey. We’re here to do fun things, so let’s talk only about fun things. Karaoke? Yes? No?"

"Your treat. Yes."

Coming out of the karaoke room with scratchy voices and flushed cheeks, Minseok suggested getting drinks. They went to a nearby roadside stall and ordered two bottles of alcohol along with some side dishes to go with it. The weather was starting to get chilly, and she wished she’d put on at least a cardigan before leaving the house. Minseok noticed her discomfort and went to get a bowl of steaming fishcake soup for her. She didn’t know if it was the sole doing of the soup or not, but she definitely felt warmer when they left.

Minseok pulled up at the side of the main road. It was okay to stay parked a little longer than usual there because barely any cars passed by at the outskirts, especially at an hour like this. She didn’t know about him, but she felt more reluctant than usual to get out of the car. It seemed to her that Minseok was an escape; his car, their little adventures. It was like reading a fairytale book, but she had to be careful not to let herself fall for such a happy ending. She could get too used to the idea of happiness, because when she couldn’t attain it, she would feel twice as disheartened.

And she realised she was addicted to something too, just as Baekhyun was addicted to her. It was when she finally brought herself to step out of the comfort of Minseok’s car that she admitted quietly to herself; she was pathetic enough to be addicted to fake happiness.

~*~

"Hey."

The elderly man looked back in time to see the door shut behind his first visitor since he was admitted two years ago, but it wasn’t like he could remember.

"Who are you?" He questioned in a voice that reminded Baekhyun of sandpaper.

"It doesn’t matter who I am. I brought you fruits, do you like fruits?"

"I like apples."

"Good, I have plenty of that." Baekhyun set the basket down on the beside table and pulled up a chair. The man, clad in white washed polyester shorts and shirt, stared as Baekhyun unwrapped the hamper, plastic crinkling loudly in the silence. Baekhyun got up and asked a nurse for a plate and peeler before returning with the wanted items. As he moved throughout the ward, the old man never once spoke, and only followed him with his eyes.

"Who are you?" He asked again.

"My name is Baekhyun. I am twenty three years old. What about you?"

"I… My name is…"

"Your name is Byun Seunghwan. You used to be a mafia leader, as unbelievable as that sounds. You also used to have a wife, but she passed away when you were thirty one. You have a son too, he was eight years old when your wife passed away. You even had a daughter in law, and a grandson, you lost your grandson shortly before you got admitted into this place."

"How come I don’t remember?"

Baekhyun stopped and fixed his gaze on the peeling wooden floorboards. “Beats me.”

"Why did you come? How do you know so much about me?"

"I came because I wanted to see for myself."

"See what?"

What I would become, ten years later.

"Nothing. Here, eat your apple," Baekhyun said, sliding the plate of sliced apples over. The man took one and bit into it, scrunching his nose after the first bite. "Why? Is it sour?"

"Yes."

"Sorry, I’ll peel another one." Baekhyun began reaching into the basket when another hand grabbed an apple and handed it to him.

"Always take the red ones. They’re more ripe, and sweeter."

-

"It’s so sour!" Baekhyun whined.

"That’s because your mother didn’t choose the right apple. Come here, Baekhyun," the man said. Baekhyun obediently slid off his seat and ran over, allowing himself to be picked up by his father. "Apples like these are sour, just like the ones you ate," he said, pointing at an apple with streaks of yellow. "Always take the really red ones, they’re more ripe, and sweeter."

-

"How do you know that?" Baekhyun asked.

"Isn’t it common sense?"

"Of course," he muttered, starting to peel again.

"You at this."

Giving up, Baekhyun gave the apple and peeler to the older man. “Then you do it.”

Instead of looking annoyed or offended by the curt remark, the man took the items with a tiny smile and began peeling. His movements were smooth and precise, and Baekhyun stared, jaw-slacked, as he wondered when his father became so good at this.

"Two long, neat strips," the man said, holding up the skin while he jutted his chin at the small pile Baekhyun made at the side of the plate. "Look at yours."

"Have you been practicing?"

"I peel my own apples."

"That’s nice," Baekhyun replied quietly. "Eat. What are you waiting for?"

"For you to praise me. The nurses always do that."

"I’m not a nurse," he answered, and the man flinched slightly. "But you did a good job. I could never be as good as you."

"Of course you can’t," the man responded, chuckling in delight as he began to eat.

"Aren’t you curious?"

"About what?"

"Your son. How he’s doing, where he’s living. Don’t you miss him?"

"I don’t remember having a son. How can I miss a stranger?" The man replied as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You’re so cruel," Baekhyun said under his breath.

"Did you say something?"

"I am your son."

"Oh."

"Oh? Is that all you have to say? Oh? What the hell is wrong with you? I hate this! You can’t remember , that’s why you’re immune to all this pain the people around you feel, this is so unfair! How can you live so blissfully ignorant while I bear the consequences?!"

The old man had visibly retreated towards the wall when Baekhyun raised his voice. He looked scared, a fear that resembled a child’s. And Baekhyun found that so ironic. A decade ago this man was the most feared man in South Korea, even some cops tried their best to steer clear of his way. But now he was reduced to a cowering mess of a human being, trembling at the feet of a son he can’t remember.

"I really don’t want to end up like you," Baekhyun whispered, sinking back into his seat. "I really don’t."

A few seconds passed but the man did not move an inch, continuing to watch Baekhyun with cautious eyes. Eventually, the latter sighed and said, “I’m sorry. Please eat your apples. I have to go.”

Baekhyun stood up and placed the chair back in its original position. He threw one last look at the man on the bed before heading towards the door. When his fingers wrapped around the brass handle, the man called him.

"Will you visit me again tomorrow?"

"No."

"What about the day after?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," he said, turning to glance at the man from the corner of his eye. "You won’t even remember that I came."

With a quick exhale, Baekhyun stepped out of the ward, not looking back at that horrible place even once.

~*~

Baekhyun felt oddly drained when he got home, as if he hadn’t slept in three days. He only bothered to take off the itchy sweater he had put on (which he regretted) before promptly collapsing onto the bed. Sleep never really came to him that easily, but he was able to let go of reality quickly at that moment.

He woke up to six missed calls from Yixing and panicked as he called the latter back. While the phone rang, he scanned the house for her, but she still wasn’t home. When he came back, it was late afternoon, it was dark now and she should be back.

"Where are you?" Yixing asked, barely suppressing the irritation.

"I’m at home, you called me six times, what’s wrong? Is it about her? She’s still not home yet, did something happen to her?"

"You’re supposed to be at the villa in Bucheon! Why the hell are you talking about her when you have more important matters at hand?!"

"When did I say that?"

"Wha-"

"And nothing is more important than her," he answered in a low voice, glaring at the wall across him.

"I told them to leave, they’re all very unhappy that you didn’t show even after waiting for almost an hour. What got into you? Did it just slip your mind or what?"

"I just… Forgot." Baekhyun sighed, pushing his bangs away from his forehead and clutching at the roots. "Reschedule it for tomorrow."

"Already did. Same time, same place. You better not forget."

"Am I the boss or you?"

"Then act like one." With that, the assistant hung up. Baekhyun knew Yixing was naturally aggressive and hot-headed, sometimes even more so than he was. Yixing wasn’t meant to be a mere assistant, he was capable of more. Normally, people would see it as Baekhyun suppressing Yixing’s potential, and to a certain extent that was true. But Baekhyun wasn’t just keeping Yixing from achieving more, Baekhyun was accessing him.

Just as he was about to leave Nara a message, the front door beeped, signaling her arrival. Baekhyun left the bedroom quickly, hurrying down the spiral stairs in time to see her dropping mail onto the coffee table. She froze when she saw him, and for a split second Baekhyun saw fear in her eyes.

"You’re home," he mumbled stupidly. "Did you eat?"

She simply nodded before walking past him and climbed up the stairs without a sound. His shoulders slumped as he glanced at the stack of white envelopes before moving to the kitchen to cook himself dinner.

The water came to a boil and he put the ramen in, stirring it after sometime to loosen the noodles. Baekhyun wasn’t thinking of anything in particular as he stared at the contents of the pot, but somehow, he felt something weigh his heart down.

-

"Ramen," she said with a proud smile, "tastes better when you eat from the lid."

Baekhyun narrowed his eyes at her in question.

"What, you’ve never tried doing that before? You call yourself Korean?"

"Usually the maid serves it in a bowl. And I rarely eat ramen."

"I should’ve figured as much. Well, there’s a first for everything. I’ve only ever cooked for you, so count yourself lucky." She beamed. "If you don’t die, that is!"

"I would be less worried if you left the last part out."

-

Hearing a loud clang from the first floor had jolted her alert. Quickly pulling down her shirt, she ran downstairs to an empty living room and kitchen. Baekhyun didn’t come upstairs, she would’ve seen him if he did. The first thought that came to her was that they were attacked again, and she quickly reached for a vase before scouring the place for the intruder. But the vase didn’t meet its victim, and instead fell onto the floor, just like Baekhyun.

She ran over and knelt beside the limp figure, shaking him by the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t wake up. There was no blood or injury on him, so her best guess was that he fainted. She tried slapping his cheeks and calling his name, but he wouldn’t wake up. Scrambling to her feet, she reached for the house phone and called an ambulance.

It was at times like this she resented the fact that they lived half an hour from the nearest hospital. She got why he wanted to live somewhere far from densely populated areas, but he should’ve made sure there was a hospital nearby, considering their circumstances.

She dragged him away from the narrow space between the stove and dining table to a more open area, thinking that the fresh air might help him just a little bit.

"Baekhyun, Byun Baekhyun," she called, slapping his cheeks repeatedly. "You’re not supposed to be like this…"

The paramedics came and lifted him onto a gurney. She automatically followed behind them and got into the back of the ambulance. The personnel didn’t look panicked, so Baekhyun wasn’t in a bad condition, and she felt relieved despite herself.

"Do you know what happened to him?"

"No, he was downstairs in the kitchen, I was up in the bedroom. I heard a clang and found him like this. He’ll be okay, right?"

"Yeah, don’t worry."

She found herself seated by the Accident and Emergency centre Baekhyun was brought to. After a fairly long wait, the curtains were drawn by a nurse and Baekhyun was sitting with his back propped against the headboard. She got up and approached him and the doctor, who addressed her with a smile and reassured her Baekhyun was okay, and that they could go home.

She was about to reach out and help him down, but he got off the bed easily on his own, although his movements were sluggish and he looked dazed. After settling formalities at the counter, they left the hospital and walked to the main road. She trailed behind him, close enough to catch him should he faint again, but with a distance comfortable enough for them both.

Baekhyun didn’t need help getting into a cab, but she felt compelled to at least hold his wrist to support him as he got in. Eventually they got back without having any contact or conversation.

"I’ll do it," she said when he headed for the kitchen as soon as they got back. "Go and rest."

Baekhyun looked hesitant for a moment, but his exhaustion sent him to the bedroom. She continued to watch him as he climbed up the stairs, slowly but steadily, just in case. When she heard the familiar sound of the door shutting, she began clearing the stuff on the counter and stove.

It was nearing midnight when she climbed into bed. Baekhyun was sound asleep, curled into a ball as usual. She was tired, but for some reason, she couldn’t fall asleep. It was weird; this feeling was weird. It was the first time Baekhyun showed a form of weakness. Usually he was okay. He was supposed to be okay all the time. Seeing him crumpled on the ground was a rude wake-up call for her.

The incident was a reminder, that Baekhyun was human too, no matter how horrible of a human she thought he was. Baekhyun could fall ill too, he could feel sad, he could feel pain, and he could die. Perhaps she was too caught up in resenting him that she forgot Baekhyun was human just like her. All this time she had seen him as an object that would always be there for her to blame and resent no matter what, but tonight she realised that a day will come when Baekhyun might not be there for her to hate anymore.

And that thought terrified her.