Their friendship had been so natural; developing from the time they were neighborhood children. When Sungyeol would run down to Myungsoo’s house, the biggest one on the street, and find him everyday snapping random photos with the cheap disposable Polaroids from the convenience store. It was odd to Sungyeol who always wanted to wrestle or race or do anything else except watch Myungsoo fan the photos after wandering around to find the perfect subject.

     He would whine like any six-year-old begging his friend, “Myungsoo, please just race me down the street! I’ll even let you win!”

     Myungsoo would ignore the elder, however, no matter how frustrated Sungyeol was with the quiet photographer, he would skip to the big house at the end of the street everyday.

     They had been sitting under the tree for a while, their hot summer coming to an end. Had gone to the small convenience store and money from their moms they treated themselves to the chilled popsicles.

     Sungyeol bit his while Myungsoo could never actually finish it before it melting in his tiny fists. Polaroid around his neck, he looked at his only friend where there was sweat on his forehead and dirt on his once prestigiously white shirt.

      Myungsoo put down his popsicle - it had already started to melt in the treacherous weather when he called out, “Sungyeol.”

     Looking up, treat in mouth, Myungsoo snapped a photo of him with the soft mechanical shutter. It had already begun to develop and there were soft outlines of the too-skinny boy with lanky limbs staring at him.

     Sungyeol snatched it away, waving it frantically much to Myungsoo’s dismay; always delicately touching the corners to take extra care of his masterpieces.

     Once developed, Sungyeol stared at it with his infamous gummy smile, “I’ll be handsome when I grow up Myungsoo, don’t you think so?”

     Myungsoo nodded and snatched the picture back and held it to his chest, “It came out pretty.”

     Popsicle long gone and the day ending, Sungyeol stood up and opened the small white gate before turning around to yell out a goodbye, “Myungsoo! Make me your model from now on!”

     Myungsoo looked down at the square picture, fingers on the corner and nodded. When he reached his small room, Myungsoo dragged the shoebox from under his bed and safely put the picture in there.


     They’re closer than ever, the peak of their middle school career. Myungsoo is still the quiet kid that hides behind the always too-excited tall boy. Long had he traded in the polaroid and now has a camera where the photos have to be sent in to develop. Though, it still hangs around his neck; something that may never change.

     Here, it’s different than the careless times as kids and now they prepare for high school. Sungyeol, it turns out, is effortlessly studious. Gliding through materials without much effort - the teachers tell him that his natural wit won’t get him far in high school.

     “I’ll show them!” He would say with braces framing his teeth and eyes hidden behind the glare of thick glasses, “I’ll never study in high school!”

     But, as his classmates see him through envious eyes – especially the one kid with too small eyes, Myungsoo sees the lanky boy who still bites his ice cream and still begs him to race down the street.

     Sitting in Sungyeol’s room one day after school, ties untucked and jackets flung wherever, they’re playing the newer console that Sungyeol had gotten for his birthday. It’s some combat game that Myungsoo doesn’t understand but Sungyeol’s tongue is hanging out in concentration and there are occasional jabs from Myungsoo’s left when he pushes the right buttons.

     Myungsoo easily loses and later Sungyeol confesses with a proud smile, “I’ve been playing this past my bedtime, but don’t tell mom!” That another ambitious confession comes out as well.

     “Hey, we’re best friends right?”

     Myungsoo stares at him, “Hm? Yeah, why?”

     “Well, I want to be in the play, but I don’t want to do it alone and-“

     “I’ll do it.” Myungsoo interrupts abruptly.

     Sungyeol’s smile is the brightest Myungsoo has seen (today) and there’s a hug of gratitude enveloping the smaller.

     “Thanks ‘Soo!”

       After the director gave Myungsoo the lead saying he has a natural talent for theatre Sungyeol’s dream is quickly crushed. He would give small smiles to Myungsoo where guilt would overwhelm his heart and say, “Maybe it’s just not for me.”

     When the opening day came, Sungyeol brought flowers and Myungsoo snapped the picture with the familiar mechanical shutter and when he had walked him home long after curfew, the picture went on top of the other in that small shoebox.


    
     They both enter the same high school with promises of going through all the stereotypical experiences together but are quickly separated. They’re not close, Myungsoo doesn’t remember when he even heard Sungyeol’s voice directed at specifically Myungsoo.

       However, there are obvious differences between the two. He hadn’t proved the teachers wrong, high school was a whirlwind of emotions and new experiences that Sungyeol’s ability flew out the window along with his friendship with Myungsoo.

     Sungyeol had tried sports though it didn’t work out, he had tried academics but his motivation was lost and now he hides behind a thick mask of dumb antics begging for attention with a guy named Woohyun.

     Or, that’s how at least Myungsoo sees it. It’s not that he resents Sungyeol, he actually yearns for their once brother-like bond where he understood Myungsoo’s quietness and Myungsoo understood his insecurities.

     Now, Myungsoo is still the too soft spoken kid but his matured face has given him unwanted attention. He still does plays, but, he always feels wronged to participate in them. However he met a new friend, a feminine boy who is prettier than anyone Myungsoo’s ever seen in the drama club too.

     His name is Sungjong; their bond grows fast and he comes out to Myungsoo with tears in his eyes and a sorrowful confession escaping his lips. He’s Myungsoo’s first lover and boyfriend. Nobody knows about them and they spend hours experimenting in Myungsoo’s locked room.

     There’s one time where Sungjong finds Myungsoo’s newest camera model after a day of school. He turns to the shirtless boy handing him the camera, “Take a picture of me, I bet I’ll turn out pretty.”

     Myungsoo snaps the photo and when the doe-eyed boy left he opened up the dusty shoebox to put it in there.

     Thirty-minutes later he took the picture out.

     Though their love was full of inexperienced lust and it quickly ends as soon as it started but Myungsoo’s preference still remains. He’s heartbroken but it wasn’t tragic, just withering love and young curiosities had set them apart.

     It wasn’t until Myungsoo is walking home one night when he sees Sungyeol sitting in front of his house gate. Sungyeol looked up, his frames long gone and replaced by contacts. Myungsoo stops in front of him, his white fence is cracking and needs to be desperately re-painted.

     “Why don’t we talk anymore?” His voice is significantly deeper than Myungsoo remembers, cracking at certain points. He’s familiar but yet so strange and foreign.

     Myungsoo shrugs, “We’re just different now, I guess.”

     Sungyeol stands up, brushing the dirt off his pants, “We can’t be that much different than from a year ago.”

     “A lot happens in a year, Yeol.”

     Sungyeol smiled, braces long gone but the gummy smile is still familiar, “Do you still like photography?”

      “Yeah but-“

     “Can you finish a popsicle before it melting?”

       “What does this have to do with anything?”

     Sungyeol tilted his head, “Just answer.”

      “No it still melts but-“

      “So what all has changed, ‘Soo?”


      They talk now but not in school, their interests are still too great for that leap. Though they still sit under the tree they used to as kids and eat ice cream but their conversations have grown deeper and the topics have matured.

      It’s still not the same, who would of known that the subtle differences that accumulated throughout the years could have made the gap farther and farther from one another. Myungsoo still tries though and so when Sungyeol is complaining about how his mother constantly threatens to kick him out of the house he confronts him like a new found friend.

      “Maybe you should stop acting like an at school to impress whoever the hell you’re trying to impress and get your together.”

     He says it so calmly it even surprises himself, but Sungyeol storms off as soon the sentence ends with puffed cheeks and red ears.
     When Myungsoo returns home, Sungyeol is sitting under the tree with books sprawled open and pencil in mouth.

     Myungsoo develops the picture the next day.



      University is hectic and chaotic but Myungsoo is so excited to start this new chapter of his life. He shares the apartment with Sungyeol, one that’s affordable for two broke kids.

      Myungsoo chose to pursue acting; going to a small arts school while Sungyeol had gotten an internship at his uncle’s business. Their friendship is mostly normal; there are still tiny gaps from their limited period of separation.

     They’re nineteen now and not the (as) immature sixteen-year-olds they once were. They have responsibilities other than schoolwork and it’s so exhilarating for Myungsoo to finally feel free from the high school where he had more secrets than friends.

     He meets a dancer in the late fall semester named Dongwoo who is all bright smiles and quirky actions that it’s so endearingly close to love at first sight. He brings Dongwoo to the apartment occasionally when Sungyeol isn’t home. Myungsoo never opted to tell Sungyeol about Sungjong and now not Dongwoo.

     There’s the unlock jingle and Sungyeol yelling out his presence when they’re wrapped in each other’s arms one afternoon that Myungsoo scrambles up to lock his door and throw on clothes. He urges Dongwoo to do the same but the elder’s confused face gives Myungsoo such an eerie feeling it sends shivers down his spine.

     Tapping at the door and a loud voice calls, “Myungsoo, are you home?”

     “Just a minute Yeol!” Myungsoo yells when the knocking ceases to stop.

     Sungyeol is laughing, Myungsoo can imagine all gums and small eye crescents from the other side of the white door, “Do you have a girl in there?”

     Dongwoo stops pulling his pants up and Myungsoo freezes, heart pounding. The look on his face is hurt when he softly speaks, “He doesn’t know?”

     Myungsoo reaches out, head halfway through his shirt, “I can explain Dongwoo, I”

     The elder raises a finger to Myungsoo’s lips and whispers a soft, “I understand, but I don’t want to be a secret.”

     Unlocking the door Dongwoo steps out and there’s pure terror in Sungyeol’s eyes as he steps away from the short figure. Dongwoo does a short greeting before finding the rest of his belongings and leaving the barren apartment.

     Myungsoo is hopping through the apartment, attempting to go after the one lover that was more than experimenting feelings until a large hand grabs his arm.

     “Myungsoo, I-“

     Ripping his arm out of the loose grip he turns to stare at the regretful eyes of his best friend with tears in his own, “It’s your fault!” He yelled, sobbing menacingly, “You had to ing come home early of all days and you ruined it Yeol, you ruined us!”

     “Us? I-“

     “No! Shut up! You ruined mine and Dongwoo’s relationship! You ruined our friendship! You ruined everything!”

     Myungsoo sobs in his room until he loses track of time, attempting to mend his broken heart with rasps at the door from an apologizing Yeol.

     “I don’t care that you like guys, Soo! We haven’t changed!”

     There’s a text from Sungyeol with a photo attached with pouty lips and sad eyes written with a simple, “I’m sorry.”

     Myungsoo saves the photo and eventually leaves his room to patch things with Sungyeol over terribly cooked ramen and countless of text messages sent to Dongwoo that will never be answered.



     Long after Myungsoo had graduated from the small performing arts school does Sungyeol get his first girlfriend at the age of twenty-three; she’s the secretary for floor’s office. He’s giddy with excitement and their conversations are limited to his bragging rights. Myungsoo is annoyed, strangely.

       He had brought her over once to show her his apartment, she’s a petite girl with dyed brown hair and a light humor. Sungyeol had begged Myungsoo to take a picture of them with his new camera. Honestly she was perfect for Sungyeol, but when he came back to their dark apartment after walking her home, Myungsoo simply stated,

     “I don’t like her Yeol.”

     Sungyeol had moped for a few days and it wasn’t until a mutual friend named Howon that works in the same office does he find out that Sungyeol broke up with her with no particular reason.

     When his developed pictures came, Myungsoo ripped all memories of that night purely from guilt.


    

     Sungyeol thirty and Myungsoo closely nearing it, they both are still single though they’ve both had various relationships through their seven years. They’re adults now, though Myungsoo feels the effects of getting older and the strain from their jobs.

     He’s a director now while Sungyeol is his uncle’s apprentice for the booming company. They live seperatley, their incomes too vast for them to agree on one thing. Though, Sungyeol comes by Myungsoo’s studio when given the chance; he’s never liked to live alone.

     They’re sitting on Myungsoo’s couch a religious routine that has been formed over twenty-four years. Sungyeol looks older, his stress lines forming and smile lines more prominent than when he was twenty-three.

     He rubs his forehead, “My mom is practically begging me now to get married. Can’t she see that times have changed? Nobody gets married young anymore!”

     Myungsoo laughed, “You know how moms are. Yours was always well more – demanding?”

     Sungyeol glances over the cameras aligned in a specific order, arranging from the ones he preserved from his childhood to the newer models now, “Hey ‘Soo, how many pictures do you think you’ve taken over the years?”

     He shrugged, “A lot.”

     Sungyeol turned his head, a grin forming on his tired face, “Let’s take one together, so we can see how we’ve aged!”

     Sungyeol took out his phone, holding it in front of Myungsoo’s face, “Please?”

     Slinging his arms around Myungsoo’s shoulders, they posed like they did when they were sixteen.

     Sungyeol looked at the picture, “I haven’t aged prettily, let’s take another.”

     They’re there again; the nostalgia rising from almost fourteen years ago. This time though, Sungyeol calls to Myungsoo once the picture is taken.

     Looking at his best friend for over a decade, their faces are in close proximity and warm breath tickles his face. It’s endearing, how such feelings rise in just a single moment when they had been hidden for years.

     Myungsoo leans up, but not touching Sungyeol’s chapped lips with his own just yet. He needs to know if this is real, if this isn’t just an unrequited kind of kiss but when Sungyeol’s own lips reach down in such a chaste way, Myungsoo feels like he’s sixteen again.

     Sungyeol doesn’t know how to kiss, his lips are stiff or maybe it’s just the fact it’s Myungsoo because he knows Sungyeol has had his fair share of girlfriends.

     Their motions are so chaste, so surreal that Myungsoo’s lips are on fire with the way Sungyeol’s dry ones contrast with Myungsoo’s soft ones that it’s so decadent but so innocent he can’t get enough.

     Sungyeol’s mouth is intoxicating, the faint taste of bitterness from previous beer and the soft breaths that blow in Myungsoo’s mouth leave him panting.

     Sungyeol pulls away, his eyes are open and alert but yet he makes no hint to move. It’s confusing but so right that there’s no words that can give either of them comfort or express their wild feelings.

     They’re silent, only the silence can keep them sane right now. But one thing is for sure; there is no regret in either of their minds.



     Ten years has passed and so have the living arrangements and the size of their family. Now a small film director and the Sungyeol the CEO of his uncle’s company the process for their adoption has finally come through.

     They’re older dads, it was something they had agreed on to support their child. A little girl, their own child where they can shift her views on the world and give her everything she wants.

      They pick her up today; Myungsoo is jittery while Sungyeol is all smiles. They had been here for at least an hour, filling out the last of the paper work before being able to actually see their baby.

      There’s a hand at the small of Myungsoo’s back, where he’s hunched over with elbows on his knees and all anxious looks towards the door.

     “You’ll hurt your back if you sit like that.”

     Myungsoo straightens up, leaning into his partner’s side. It had been only ten years since their kiss but ten years is long enough to catch up on all the time they had missed when young and oblivious.

     “I know I’m just so nervous. What if she doesn’t like us? What if we’re not good parents?”

     “’Soo, that’s ridiculous, now stop.”

     The door clicks open and there’s a small child wrapped in a pink blanket, her black hair is unruly and beautiful and Myungsoo thinks he’ll never see something as mesmerizing as she.

     The counselor hands the bundle to Myungsoo where he shakily takes her with greedy anticipation. He loves her, he loves her so much.

     The adoption agent smiles and says a small, “Congratulations.” Leaving them together with their precious pride and joy.

     Sungyeol wraps an arm around his partner, looking down adoringly at the two, “She’s beautiful, our Chohee.”

     Myungsoo sniffles and chokes out a laugh, “I love her already.”

     The amount of pictures they take is undeniably a lot and soon their home fills with portraits of her in every room.



     The time Chohee and Sungyeol have with Myungsoo is numbered at the age of fifty-five. Myungsoo’s lack of hair and aging body is undergoing chemotherapy, something the doctors say won’t help.

     Sungyeol stays in the hospital though, when Myungsoo has relapses and Chohee is in that whirlwind of emotions that comes with being sixteen.

     Every night Myungsoo turns to Sungyeol before bed and repeats the same words religiously, “If I go tomorrow, be happy and take care of our daughter.”

    And every time Sungyeol will grasp Myungsoo’s unmonitored hand and sob, “Don’t say such stupid things, I love you!”

     Myungsoo pats his head; “I love you too, even after forty-nine years with you.”

     After a year, Myungsoo’s relapse is worse and their faith runs out as does his time. It was coming, but Sungyeol’s grief is enough for two-hundred people that his life is in despair.

     He finds the box of photos Myungsoo had diligently hidden since they were young, staring at the some damaged photos that held many unspeakable memories. His tears stain them and his heart clenches at the sight of them together.

      He had been sitting by the burial marker for awhile now, something he does often when he feels lonely and his daughter has pity on him.

     “You know, ‘Soo.” He starts, looking at each photo with a keen eye, “We aged prettily, don’t you think so?”