There is a moment before we awake where we are conscious of hovering in that delicate state between slumber and the new day. A finite moment wherein we hear all that surrounds us. The sound of our own breath, the muffled beating of our heart. A near instant in which we feel keenly all around us. The heat of our exhales, the pulse in our fingers. Suspended in this state, nothing yet truly exists in the world for we are conscious of it all. Indulged in our heightened senses, nothing really seems to be real for it is as if all that exists exists within us. We are the only reality. Eyes closed, we see all. And there is nothing beyond this time-nothing until we open our eyes and see. The new day has begun and we can no longer indulge in our fantasies. We must rise up. And live.

So many had been the times Yunho thought that if he could just stay in bed, then he could face anything. If he could just stay under the covers, then he had the strength for it all. And sometimes it made him smile. Smile to think how many times he had treated the idea as if it were a rational option. Once or twice he had even tried to see just how long he could keep himself in the bed before something moved him to get up. The odd click his alarm made right before the buzzer went off. Realizing he had left the thermostat on at a higher setting than it needed to be for the day. Or the sudden remembrance that if he was going to make that one light on 31st street, than he absolutely had to get out of bed right now.

But this morning, laying on a mattress on the floor in the house of Aunt Yee, what woke Yunho was what had sent him out of bed countless times before. What roused him without any further thought of himself, or what might be a nice way to spend the day. Jaejoong.
If butterflies drew breath, then there was one perched inches from Yunho’s face. It was a sound he had spent long nights listening to. Long nights when the slender hands would not let go of his for fear of the shadow on the wall. Endless nights when the porcelain voice pleaded for him not to leave because of the tree branches that looked like arms just outside the window. A sound Yunho had listened to for hours when his brother’s head plopped onto his lap, not able to stay awake for the end of a movie. A faint sound, as if a hummingbird could sigh. An exhale with a slight rasp at the end from year upon year of harsh liquid medications. And throughout all those long nights, or anytime Jaejoong couldn’t make it to the end of the movie, Yunho listened to the sound of his brother breathing, practically feeling each breath, as if they were his own. Knowing that for each breath, there was much he would give. Much he would do.

But right now, Jaejoong hovering inches away from Yunho’s face, all he had to do was wake up. Opening his eyes into the dark orbs, eyes even in the day lit with stars, Yunho smiled to assure Jaejoong he really was up. With a bound, Jaejoong hopped back up onto the bed, fussing momentarily with the blankets that seemed bent on capturing his legs, and began to explain to Yunho all the things he was going to do today. Listening, Yunho got up and went to the dresser drawers to lay out what Jaejoong would wear that day, glancing out the window once in a semi-useless effort to determine if today would be warm as most of Jaejoong’s talk was about being outside with his cousins. Jaejoong continued to talk as Yunho proceeded into the bathroom emerging again with his brother’s toothbrush in hand, all ready to go, and handed it to Jaejoong with a small gesture that he needed to brush his teeth. Still in the middle of a sentence, Jaejoong placed the toothbrush very carefully in his mouth and began to brush very carefully, his whole attention now to the task at hand.

Yunho stopped for a moment. Jaejoong’s socks in his hand, he turned for just a moment and watched Jaejoong move the toothbrush in circular motions exactly as the dentist advised all his patients do, but hardly anyone really ever does. What a day that had been. Maybe it was five years ago. Six? No, five. At work, Yunho got a frantic phone call from Junsu that day. The already cracked falsetto voice faltered at a fever-pitch level as he explained that all Jaejoong had done was take a sip of chocolate milk and he began crying and screaming how something hurt. Hollering to the secretary that he’d be taking his lunch break now at ten in the morning, Yunho bolted out of the office. Driving, his thoughts flew from explanation to explanation as to why chocolate milk could hurt. However, upon entering the apartment, and seeing Jaejoong crumpled down on the floor, one of his hands nearly stuffed in his mouth, rocking back and forth-the young man understood. Chocolate. Sugar. Jaejoong had a cavity.

With a motion that bespoke much prarctice, Yunho simultaneously lifted Jaejoong off the floor and cradled him close into the nook of his arm, while applying a certain pressure to Jaejoong’s wrist to get him to take his hand out of his mouth. Then, as he wriggled Jaejoong’s jacket over his shoulders, Yunho hollered for Junsu to bring a cup full of ice for Jaejoong to on on the way to the dentist. And Yunho was thinking not only of trying to soothe Jaejoong before his anxiety over the hurt became too much for his nervous system to process, but also of quieting him down. After all, the dentist’s office was in a particularly well-off part of town. The people who employed the office were equally as well-off. And they expected others to respect their financial stability and have the decency not to disturb their peace of mind. It had taken only one trip before and seeing the disdain in the secretary’s eyes-No. He would not let her look that way at Jaejoong again.

So, still cradling his brother close to his side, Yunho soon sat with Jaejoong in the small dental room, waiting for the dentist to come in. Yunho began to explain to Jaejoong that he needed to be a big guy here and answer Dr. Crown’s questions. Jaejoong nodded, reaching into the cup again for another piece of ice, water dripping down his wrists as he shoved it into his mouth. When the dentist did come in, it took only a brief look inside Jaejoong’s mouth to determine it was a cavity and it should come out now. Dr. Crown proceeded to explain to Jaejoong that cavities did not need to happen at all if one brushed their teeth properly twice a day. Small-round motions. Twice a day. And no more cavities. Yunho remembered the wide expression on Jaejoong’s face, one hand still partially in his mouth with the ice-cube, as he paid great attention to the doctor’s words.

Even now, it was hard not to smile. 

Teeth clean, Yunho told Jaejoong to go back in the bathroom and wash his face. With soap. The dark head nodded and Yunho listened then to the sounds of splashing water while he changed his own clothes. Outside in the hallway doors were opening and closing and it would not be long before the whole Jung clan was awake and ready for what would probably be a lavish breakfast presented by Aunt Yee. Not to imply she cooked it herself, though. Only that she had the resources to provide herself with some very fine personal chefs. And as much as it irritated him, Yunho did not want to be late for the morning meal. He did not want it said by her that he couldn’t manage himself, or his brother. When Jaejoong emerged from the bathroom, his face clean and his hair still in a tussled mess, Yunho gently ran a brush through the thick waves and told Jaejoong to get dressed while it was now his turn to wash up. 

Grasping the shower knob, Yunho turned the silver fixture so that within moments a steaming stream of hot water poured out of the faucet. Stepping underneath, the young man quickly went to work lathering soap over his body, feeling the near scalding water wash over him with a certain pleasure. A pleasure in that he could withstand the heat. His skin tingling and each of his limbs deliciously alive, Yunho stood under the pounding water as if it taunt it to do its worst. There was nothing he could not stand. Not this moment. Nor any of the others that this new day might bring. He was stronger than them all.

Emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of stream, now dressed, Yunho came over to Jaejoong and glanced to see that his brother really was wearing all the clothes Yunho had set before him to put on. That the shirt was on right-side-front and not inside-out. That the same pair of socks Yunho had given him were the same pair he had on. That he had on any socks at all. That the shoes were tied and the laces not tucked instead inside the shoe. Satisfied that Jaejoong was ready, Yunho took one quick look at himself in a near-by mirror and offering his hand to Jaejoong, which was quickly taken, made his way downstairs for the second day at this family reunion.

*                                 *                                *

Apparently breakfast, like the meal the day before, was to be served outside. Already most of the family was gathered around tables, and even from inside the house the clink of small glasses of orange juice could be heard. Feeling the small hand inside his own tighten in excitement, despite the groan Yunho tried to hold back, the young man led Jaejoong out to where the rest of the Jungs were gathered. But they were hardly out the door before Yunho heard Jaejoong give a cry of joy and bolt forward towards a gazebo that had not been there the day before. For a split instant, Yunho did not understand. Until his eyes caught hold of what stood inside the gazebo. A piano. A richly polished baby-grand piano. Meant no doubt to be played by-

“I do hope you don’t mind,” came Aunt Yee’s voice behind Yunho. “I’ve always thought music in the morning suits the digestion so well. And besides, our little Jaejoong is quite the savant.”

A tightness rouse up in Yunho’s chest and for a moment he struggled to make polite words come. “Yee, I thought this was breakfast. Not a performance.”

“Well of course it is,” she answered with swelling sincerity. “But he used to play so well and I thought it’d be nice fore everyone to see what he can really do.”

Yunho’s reply went unspoken, but was, nonetheless, harsh. “Don’t you mean, that he can do anything at all?”

As it stood though, he could not answer Aunt Yee. For Jaejoong had long since arrived at the piano and seeing his brother, Yunho’s refusal to let Jaejoong play was gone.

The piano for Jaejoong was not an instrument. It was not a thing. The piano was alive. A living, breathing friend who spoke to Jaejoong in a language he had known long ago. Long before coming to this world. She spoke to him, sang to him while he her lovely keys. And for those moments while his slender hands, whiter than the ivory of the keys, flew over them, there was only Jaejoong and the elegant lady. Sometimes, watching him, Yunho saw Jaejoong’s lips move in silent conversation. He did not seem to be aware of sheets of music, though he played each note to its fullest. No. When Jaejoong played the piano, he spoke to his friend, told her how happy he was she had come to visit. Nothing existed during these times. Nothing except two souls. One who lived on the notes of music and another who came to life by that same one.

“Oh,” Jaejoong sighed, as Yunho came over to him. “Oh Yunho. Look at her! She’s so pretty.” The small hands reached out, barely daring to touch the high polish finish.

“Yes, Jae she is,” Yunho replied gently.

“Am I going to play her? Can I?”

“Yes Jae.”

At any other time, Jaejoong would have clapped, the dark eyes sparkling. But not now. Upon hearing his brother’s words, Jaejoong’s entire demeanor changed. Yunho stepped back. He always did. It did not seem right to stand so close. Suddenly the little prince was gone. But the one to replace him was more than a man. This one who appeared now as Jaejoong sat down at the piano arrived with Ages coming behind him. The dark eyes no longer sparkled, but shone now with moonlight. The slim frame straightened and grew firm. The mists were gone. All at once, Jaejoong transformed. 

It was morning and the entire Jung family gathered together for the first meal of the day, but no sooner had Jaejoong’s fingers touched the keys when a strange silence settled. As the first notes blossomed out into the air, the way a cloud made of silver chimes might spread and enfold all near it, soon nothing could be heard but the sound of Jaejoong’s playing. Morning sounds of birds and even the wind in the trees sank to a hush. From the tables where all the family sat, not a voice broke into the melody. Under the porcelain fingers rippling notes, spun from gossamer, filled the air. Nothing made a sound. For a melody had risen the likes of which none had heard before. The lovely hands atop the ivory keys drew from those keys something all had heard before, and yet never as this. A melody each had listened to played in the silence of their own heart; a melody never given voice. Until now. Until now as Jaejoong sat at the piano and played for everyone the song that had lived in their hearts for so long. Different for all, but the same silent longings of joy and hope and pain. And when Jaejoong finished, when the slim figure turned around, before the Man faded and the Little Prince returned, the melody lingered in the air for just a moment. Just a moment before Time had to begin again and the threads of gossamer drifted away.

Jaejoong blinked. Once. Twice. And looked around as if he could not remember for a moment where he was.

“Yunho?”

“Yes, Jae,” Yunho answered, having come along side of Jaejoong again.

Turning and seeing his elder brother alongside himself, a wide smile blossomed over Jaejoong’s mouth, “Wasn’t she pretty,” he asked, tugging gently at Yunho’s hand. “Did you hear her?”

“Yes, Jae,” Yunho answered, putting his arm around Jaejoong to get him to stand and come eat. “I heard her. She was lovely.” Guiding him towards the tables, Yunho continued, “But I’m hungry.”

Covering his mouth with his hand, Jaejoong giggled, “Me too! I’m hungry too!”

“Should we eat then?”

“Okay! Okay-okay!”

Still guiding his brother, Yunho sat him down at the table, pulling a chair up alongside so that despite Jaejoong’s excitement over playing his lovely lady, the idea of food was not ignored. As the two brothers joined the family for breakfast, the bubble that had remained afloat popped and a flood of compliments washed over Jaejoong. Hands that were near enough reached out and touched him, patted him on the arm, pinched his cheeks, shook his hands. All their words were immensely generous causing a pink flush to steep over the gentle face. And over and over Jaejoong muttered his thanks while Yunho made sure the eggs on his plate weren’t too hot, nor the breakfast sausage too spicy, and blessed someone (probably Ana) for making sure there were slices of kiwi on the table.

Breakfast proceeded nicely. And after making sure Jaejoong was eating and not playing with his meal, Yunho got up from the table. For he had noticed that in all the splendor of the meal, the health and the strict attention paid detail, no one had seen fit to provide coffee. And knowing his dependence on the pleasantly bitter beverage, especially in the morning, the young man rose up from the table, cast one last glance at Uncle Heen in an unspoken request to make sure Jaejoong continued to eat, and went back into the house.

Yunho did not care whether the coffee came from the odd little granules of freeze dried wonder or from the designer brewing machine whose recommendations came all the way from France. All it needed to be was coffee. Moving through the whirlwind of waiters and other household servants, he made his way into the kitchen which was surprisingly quiet given the impressive meal outside. The long expanse of counter top was mostly bare, and the kitchen seemed more ready to be photographed than made any serious use of. So, Yunho began a patient search among the cabinets looking for the few things he needed to be able to brew a cup of steaming liquid that would allow his eyes to focus properly. As it was though, he must have been extremely dedicated to the search as Yunho did not see a young woman sitting at a table, watching him with great amusement. At least, Yunho did not realize her presence in the room until a small oath escaped from under his breath at not being able to find anything he wanted.

“Damn.”

“Is the house making you so crabby or are you not a morning person Yunho?”

Looking up, Yunho saw Ana with a much amused smile on her face. And, to his horror, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands.

“Where did you get that,” he asked, pointing.

“What? This,” she looked down.  “Oh, I went out this morning to get it. Aunt Yee decided coffee was bad for her skin.”

Uttering something between a groan and a sigh, Yunho came over to the table and sat down. “Figures,” he mumbled.

Again, Ana laughed and got up only to come back with an empty cup into which she poured half of her coffee and slid it over to Yunho. Catching the piquant aroma wafting over to him, Yunho looked up and took the cup, his pleasure in the first sip serving as his thanks. And for a time, between Ana and Yunho, there was quiet. Each very content to be in the kitchen, away from the rest of the family, with their coffee. At length, though, Ana spoke.

“Yunho? I was wondering. Could I take Jaejoong to the museum today?”

“Hmm? Yea, Ana. I don’t see why not. I’m sure he’ll love it. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to call the office and make sure my boss hasn’t fired me yet,” he added with a small laugh.

“Thank you. I’ll watch him close.”

“I know you will,” Yunho replied.

“Gosh,” she continued, a broad smile on her face, “I bet he’s a sight when you two go out.”

Yunho felt his back straighten.  “What do you mean,” he asked.

“I mean, Jaejoong-well you just have to look at him and-”she shook her head. “I bet the girls can’t keep their eyes off him.”

“Oh!” Yunho sat back in the chair. “Yea. Well-if he’s holding my hand then they’re staring for another reason.”

Ana laughed and was about to something more when Uncle Heen broke into the kitchen, his face very white. Standing up so fast, Yunho nearly knocked over the chair, Yunho did not ask what was wrong. He knew. Uncle Heen nodded and the two men ran out of the kitchen, leaving Ana alone and confused.

“What happened,” Yunho asked as they made their way across the lawn.

“I don’t know. He was eating just fine. The waiters were going around after a while, passing out some egg delicacy. When he got to Jaejoong and put it down on the plate-he just-”

But Uncle Heen did not need to finish. Yunho saw. There, his chair tipped backwards, Jaejoong lay on the ground, crouched in a ball. One of his hands covered his face, while the other lay outstretched, clutching something very tight. No one sitting at the table stood near Jaejoong. No one tried to help. All of them just remained, frozen. Staring at the sight before them. Ugly accusations formed in Yunho’s mind, but there was no time for that now. Dropping down next to Jaejoong, Yunho lifted the slender frame onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him and began to rock back and forth. His words were low and few. Words meant to slow the violent tremble heaving through his brother’s body. Words meant to ease the heart that beat so fast. Words meant to dry Jaejoong’s tears.

Some fifteen minutes passed thus, during which time Yunho had not ceased speaking when he heard Jaejoong’s voice, muffled still by his own hand.

“Egg.”

Egg. Yunho’s mind raced to figure out what he meant. Jaejoong had eaten eggs before and there was no problem. And eggs served any way too. There had never been a problem. Except now. Turning, Yunho looked at his brother’s hand still stretched out. Seeing still how stiff the frail arm was, Yunho did not try and bring it nearer himself, but only peered the harder. What he saw, poking out from in-between his brother’s fingers were shards of what looked like egg shell. Craning his neck, Yunho managed to look up at the table and saw there, sitting neatly on a tray were small speckled eggs, cut in half, their little yellow yolks perfectly cooked. Yunho understood. Of course Jaejoong had never had a problem eating eggs before; eggs that were already cooked and baring no resemblance to eggs sitting in a bird’s nest. But what Jaejoong had seen here-little egg shells from out of which chicks came. Cut in half. Dead.

“Egg,” came the muffled voice again.

“I know,” Yunho answered this time. “But not a bird’s egg, Jae.”

Jaejoong looked up at Yunho, “Not a birdie?”

“No,” Yunho answered gently. “These eggs aren’t for birds. These eggs are eating eggs. They come in a package with their shells still on.”

“For. . .eating,” Jaejoong repeated, looking wide-eyed at Yunho.

“Yes Jae.”

“Eating eggs. The birds are okay?”

“Yes Jae. The birds are okay,” Yunho replied, feeling now the slim frame relax. “Everything is okay, Jae,” Yunho said, helping Jaejoong to stand.

Everything will be okay. Because I’m here. None of these others, no one else here understands. They’re cowards. I’m here. Everything will be okay. I promise.

I swear.