do kyungsoo;

Kyungsoo wakes up to the warmth of summer sun on one side of his face. Maybe he forgot to close the blinds again last night, just like he did the night before, and the night before that, and perhaps the night before that too. He doesn’t know, doesn’t bother to count anymore. He doesn’t get up, just drowned himself in that temporary warmth and the low hum of morning traffic below separated by the small box of an apartment he calls home. Well, whatever home is anyway.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep again but the second time consciousness came knocking, the comfortable warmth was replaced by a blazing heat and the low hum from before was swapped with an ear-splitting string of never-ending honks from impatient drivers. A price to pay when one chooses to live in the city. He could almost hear their angry shouts. A chorus of rehearsed profanity. A sick song put on replay nobody bothered to turn off because deep down we’re all selfish s.

Kyungsoo cracks open his heavy eyelids, sat up before stretching his legs and ran slender fingers through messy locks. His hair was getting longer he thought. A distinct memory flashed through his mind, too fast for him to pinpoint when and where but slow enough for him to sketch the curve of a smirk and the obnoxious colour of blond. He never did approve of that. Not then and definitely not now.

His thought centred on a certain name without his consent and he was suddenly overcome by a wave of nausea. It wasn’t intentional, but the lump in his throat made tears gush out of his eyes. If anyone asks, he’ll blame it on the drinks he had too much last night. But who cares? Nobody knows he doesn’t drink anyway.

The cold shower helped ease his raging thoughts. He came out trembling, teeth chattering despite the thirty something degree temperature outside, but he was calmer. Breakfast was bland like always. Heck, if he was being frank, his whole stupid excuse of a life is even more bland than the bitter aftertaste of cheap espresso and overpriced cinnamon pretzel he downs almost every morning.

The chair felt rather cold and hard on his rear as he sat down on a booth just outside a local café. Away from the community who seems to be paying no mind to a young man who chooses to sit outside in the heat when it was clearly much comfier to release CFC and let the planet heat up some more. “Ironic how the human mind works,” Kyungsoo muttered under his breath while he booted up his computer. He almost jumped when he felt the vibration of his phone from inside the pocket of his pants. It was Sehun.

He picked it up with a polite hello but was met with rushed breathing at the other end of the line instead. He didn’t say anything though, just waited for said person to catch his breath. “Hyung…” Sehun said, choking at his own words as if he’s just finished a marathon. “Hyung, I… I found him.” For a moment, Kyungsoo stayed frozen and if he just thinks, he might as well block out Sehun’s ragged gasping.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know how he did it, but he managed to somehow set up rendezvous with the younger male, hastily chucked his computer inside his worn out backpack and dashed. He didn’t think hailing a cab would buy him enough time because time hasn’t really been on his side for a while now and he wasn’t going to waste it by calculating his risks. Besides, he was never really good at math.

I found him.

▲

Maybe he forgot to lock the door but the wide grin that welcomed him home was not there before he left and definitely was not something he wanted to see. “Why is there a giant thing sitting on my couch?” he said loudly with every intention of shooing away the unwelcomed guest.

“Oh come on, Kyungsoo. The least you could do is act like you’re pleased to see an old friend. Or you know, say hi?” the grin was still there, and Kyungsoo is starting to believe that his theory about it being permanently embedded on his face is actually very true. The guy was too optimistic and too happy for his own good. Kyungsoo grudgingly gave up and closed the door, kicking his shoes in front of the shoe rack and going into his room purposefully trying to ignore the other guy.

Park Chanyeol wasn’t really someone he’d hang out with. In fact, if it wasn’t for Baekhyun, they probably wouldn’t have known each other at all. There was a crappy old diner a few miles off campus. The one with tasteless coffee and too much grease on the food and the waitress who tries too hard. The one that is unbelievably addicting in which you find yourself coming back over and over despite the ugly comments you scream in your head. Or maybe because it was the only closest getaway they could find.

It was a chilly Sunday morning, late October, freshman year of college, if he recalls correctly. Autumn was the kind of season where Kyungsoo would rather stay in bed all weekend wrapped in his thick comforter and forget about life. Apparently a certain Byun Baekhyun doesn’t believe in his philosophy. The little devil woke him up a little bit too early in Kyungsoo’s opinion and – quite literally – dragged his all the way to the diner.

He remembers how warm it was inside even though outside it was basically a freezer. He also remembers how the air was dense with the smell of fresh brewed coffee mixed with stale cigarette smoke and whatever was being cooked. There weren’t too much people but the diner was abuzz with morning chit chat. Kyungsoo tries not to think about his bed as they took a seat in a far corner.

“Good morning, handsome and handsome. Name’s Chanyeol and I’ll be your waiter today. Can I take your order?” it was the deep manly voice that had them looking up and instead of a short skirt and tight t-shirt, they were greeted by a blinding grin showing a row of pearly whites too happy and too bright for Kyungsoo’s liking. Baekhyun on the other hand, was completely stoned. Everything else after that went by in blur but he recalls how his friend insisted they stay a little bit longer – which ended up being a little bit too long anyway.

The second time, Kyungsoo had refused even before Baekhyun had asked. Maybe he brought someone else to accompany him or maybe he went alone, but the next thing he knew, word was going around that Baekhyun was dating Chanyeol. Apparently Chanyeol was a fellow student in their college, a business major. He’d never have paid any mind to it. But Baekhyun was his best friend and he tells him everything. Everything.

“There’s nothing wrong with falling in love you know,” Baekhyun had said. Kyungsoo didn’t say anything. He never really does. See, the thing about their friendship is that Baekhyun never stops talking and Kyungsoo barely says anything at all. It creates a sense of balance, somewhat, even though the urge to mutilate one another was a mutual – Baekhyun because it seems like Kyungsoo doesn’t even care about what he says and Kyungsoo because it seems like Baekhyun doesn’t even know when to stop talking. The guy even talks in his sleep, for heaven’s sake.

In a way, Kyungsoo was glad that Baekhyun found someone like Chanyeol. He seems like the type to just go along with what Baekhyun has up his sleeve. A complete 180 from what Kyungsoo is, to be honest. At least, he thought, they’d have fun together and Kyungsoo would finally get his alone time he so desperately needed. Wrong. He wasn’t completely sure how and why but he constantly found himself being dragged in their unplanned ‘adventures’ again and again. And before he knew it, Chanyeol and his corny jokes became a part of his life just like Baekhyun is. Kyungsoo will never admit it, but Chanyeol is definitely someone worth having in your life.

“Baekhyun’s out of town for the whole week and I got bored at home. So I thought maybe we could go grab a drink or something and catch up?” Chanyeol said. He was leaning against the door frame of Kyungsoo’s bedroom, purposely not mentioning why the other man was stuffing clothes into a backpack.

“Can’t, I’m busy,” he replied, going around in the small space picking up stuff and putting them inside the bag.

“Still a man of a few words, aren’t you? Where are you going?”

“It’s none of your business, Chanyeol.”

“You’re not still trying to find him are you?” and when Kyungsoo doesn’t respond, he sighed and said “It’s been a year, Kyungsoo. Why can’t you just let it go?”

Kyungsoo stopped what he was doing and turned to face the taller man, face void of any expression, save for the sharp glare. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who had said that he’s only gone if I let him go. So this is me not letting go. Why go back on your own words now?”

Chanyeol didn’t know what to answer so he just stays quiet and Kyungsoo went straight back to work. After a few minutes, he backs away from the door and went to sit on the couch again. The TV was on but his eyes were unseeing. A million thoughts went by in his head too fast for him to fathom so it turns into white noise instead. One question stole the spotlight; had it been his fault to get Kyungsoo’s hopes up in the first place?

Maybe it was only a little bit over thirty minutes, or maybe it could’ve been hours, Chanyeol didn’t know but Kyungsoo did come out of his room. Chanyeol’s eyes tailed every inch of his movements and he couldn’t help but notice the small changes. The way Kyungsoo walks or rather dragged his feet, it was as if his legs were bound to invisible metal balls. His shoulders were a little bit slouched. All of which served as a reminder of the things weighing him down, the thoughts that are slowly drowning him, forcing him to stagger dangerously over the edge of his death throes but not even bothering to call out for help.

Chanyeol left, eventually. But not after making Kyungsoo promise to keep in touch and reminding him that he owed him and Baekhyun a night out to catch up on life. He didn’t expect an answer, not a ‘yes’, not a ‘no’ and he didn’t get any. It was just how Kyungsoo was and he understood that. He’s trying to help as much as he could but these kinds of things need mutual agreement. It doesn’t really make any difference if he holds out a hand but there’s nobody there who reaches out, if there’s nobody who wants it.

Kyungsoo is, in his opinion, a lost wanderer who missed the last train home, whose map and compass got taken way from him. He voiced the thought in the phone with Baekhyun the following night. “What would you have done if a person has gone missing?”

“If a person is missing you can report it to the police,” Baekhyun had said matter-of-factly.

“But how do you find someone who is lost in his own mind? No, scratch that. How do you find someone who is not ready to be found?” Baekhyun had gone quiet and if it wasn’t for the faint sound of his breathing, Chanyeol would’ve thought the line went dead.

“Well, sometimes… in order to find yourself you gotta get lost first,” it wasn’t exactly an appropriate answer but it was something to think about – for both of them. “I miss you,” Baekhyun suddenly said, his voice a soft whisper. A lazy smile tugged at Chanyeol’s lips and he chuckled despite himself, whispering a sleepy “I miss you too,” and “come home quick,” to the receiver. He fell asleep like that with Baekhyun singing his favourite lullaby through the phone. And as much as he wished the other guy was wrapped within his embrace this was enough to get him by just until Baekhyun was back where he needed him to be.

▲

Wind blew through the strands of his hair as Kyungsoo let the windows of his car down. He was driving through a familiar road he hasn’t been on for years. Cold nostalgia hit him like ocean waves and it wasn’t exactly a good feeling. If anything, it made his stomach stir, made his heart race and made his head light. The evening sunlight reflected off his Ray Bans and the skyscrapers gradually disappeared from his rear-view mirror.

The clock on his dashboard blinked 17:23 when Kyungsoo pulled to the side of the road and cut off the engine. For a moment he just sat there, hands still on the steering wheel, eyes staring ahead. There weren’t many cars travelling the route and there weren’t any buildings for miles to come. It was just a stretch of road flanked by empty green fields with the occasional sign boards to affirm drivers they were going the right way – or not.

When Sehun told him where he last saw Jongin, Kyungsoo had half a mind to back down, to give up. He hadn’t expected that Jongin would lead him to that place again. Not after all those years. He wasn’t particularly sure if he was ready to face old memories and relive the past he had worked hard to bury with every intention to keep it that way. But then again, Jongin himself was a part of that old life. And maybe the only way to get him back was to return to where it all began even if it means reopening old wounds. Wounds he now realised have taken too much time to heal because instead of treating them, Kyungsoo kept picking on the scabs.

He leaned against the hood of his black 2008 Hyundai Elantra and took a drag out of his cigarette. Grey smoke enveloped his vision as he exhaled, distorting the otherwise peaceful still of clear air. He took another drag, letting the chemicals intrude his respiratory tract. It’s a paradox, he thought, giving permission to corrode his systems in exchange for a clearer mind. He lets his thoughts wander to Jongin. Just like the cigarette, Jongin too, is a paradox and Kyungsoo can’t quite wrap his head around him.

“Kim Jongin,” he said softly, voice just above a whisper. The name tasted foreign on his tongue, probably the effects of pushing him away too much. Questions invaded his train of thoughts – will he really be there? What will he say? Will he even have the courage to talk to him? If he does, what happens after that? – And he doesn’t hold the answers to any of them.

The sky was a beautiful palette of pastel orange and blue and pink dotted with fluffy white clouds. It was picturesque, he admitted, almost serene. Far from what the city could offer. People say a picture holds a thousand words, but to Kyungsoo a picture can boast a thousand more lies. Pictures manifest how futuristic and elegant the skyscrapers look bathed in colourful city lights when in reality cities are just broken pieces of glass and steel held together by money and greed. People are like that too. We are all just broken cities hiding behind a thin veil of bright city lights.

He threw away the last of his cigarette and went back into the car. The skies gradually transformed into a soft blanket of blues and purples and the roads felt even more familiar – almost too familiar. A few more turns and buildings came into view. Kyungsoo stopped his car in front of a typical suburban house. The exterior is worn out with age – faint yellow paint chipping off the walls, flowers withering as if the owner doesn’t even remember ever planting them. Or maybe they just don’t even care anymore. He had given a call to his mother, the first one in years, and the excitement and relief in his mother’s voice had him feeling somewhat guilty. But he knew she understood. He needed to get away.

His chest felt tight as he got out of his car. He still had the house key and he knew his parents never bothered to change the locks. He contemplated just going in but decided to knock instead. His mother was older than he remembered. She looked as worn out as the old house. Tired and weary. But the smile came easy. Kyungsoo enveloped her in his arms and his chest felt even tighter. He hadn’t realised just how much he had missed her until he buried his face in her hair and breathed in the familiar scent of flowers and spices he had grown up with.

His old room was still the way he had left it in as though he never left at all. There was a feeling he can’t quite put his finger in. Guilt perhaps? He doesn’t know. Right in front of his old desk was a window and right in front of that was Jongin’s house – his room to be exact. At least it used to be. A tsunami of memories hit him head-on making him dizzy, drowning him in a series of jumbled up emotions. He doubled over, clutching the edge of his desk, breathing hard.

They moved into the neighbourhood halfway into freshman year of high school and he despised his parents for that. Their marriage wasn’t the healthiest and in the brink of crashing. And they thought a new environment would do them good. All Kyungsoo can think about was that everybody else most probably already have their own groups of friends. The least they needed was a new kid getting lost in a new place.

Zitao had said he envied Kyungsoo. “You get to start over. You can become someone else, someone new and nobody would know, nobody would judge you.” It was absurd, he thought. Why the would he even want to become someone else? It’s not like it’ll change how his parents are. It’s not like his life will become less of a battlefield once he comes home.

Their neighbours, the Kims who live next door, came over with some homemade kimchi. A housewarming gift Mrs Kim had said. They looked like nice people and he learned they had a son – a certain Jonginnie – about his age and they thought it would be nice if they became friends. Kyungsoo never bothered. First day of school was hell. People kept giving him curious glances and the girls giggled and the guys scowled and he had to introduce himself to every teacher that came in his class. He spent most of his time alone and nobody really bothered him so this went on until the end of the semester. Until Jongin came into the picture.

Jongin was a freshman and Kyungsoo was a sophomore at the same school. Kyungsoo knew he was the “Jonginnie who lives next door” his mother had always talked about. Not that Kyungsoo ever paid any attention. School ended a few hours ago and the school was barren of students except for Kyungsoo, as far as he was concerned. He was on the roof of the school’s building like always, a half empty water bottle and cereal bar wrappers lay forgotten next to where he was sitting, headphones plugged into his iPod, reality shut down for a just little while longer.

The evening wind was cold against his cheeks but surprisingly relaxing. He closed his eyes, leaned his head against the wall and just let the music drown out all the weighing him down. His lips were moving in sync with the lyrics blaring in his ears and before his mind can register it, he was singing along at the top of lungs. The feeling was something he cannot describe but it felt good, he felt free, almost indestructible. He only opened his eyes when the song ended and realised he had to leave. Sighing, Kyungsoo took off his headphones picked up his trash and stood up only to find someone in front of the door leading to the stairs, back turned towards him. He cleared his throat, “Can I help you?”

Said person stayed still, both hands on the doorknob, not answering. “I kinda need to go down, if you don’t mind stepping aside for a moment,” Kyungsoo tried again. He was getting impatient but admittedly he was a little bit amused.

The person – a fellow male student judging from the uniform – was taller than him by a couple of inches, slender and the breeze ruffled his dark brown hair in such a way that made Kyungsoo think of dancing ballerinas. Kyungsoo wonders just how long he had been standing there. He was a little bit self-conscious at the thought that the boy might’ve heard him singing. He never sang in front of anyone before, it was a guilty pleasure he chose to keep to himself alone.

“I’m uh… I’m sorry. Um- I-I didn’t mean to- I-“ the boy stumbled at his own words and Kyungsoo grew even more amused. He ran down the stairs before Kyungsoo could even blink. Something about the boy was familiar but he shrugged it off as he walked down the stairs and just like any other day, Kyungsoo let that day slip by his fingers and forgot about it overnight.

But Jongin didn’t.

▲

“I want you to coach him.”

“Why me? Joonmyun’s the captain.”

“Joonmyun is a goal keeper. You’re our best striker. Consider it punishment for skipping practice.”

EXO was Kyungsoo’s second escape after his rooftop getaway. He enjoyed soccer almost as much as he enjoyed singing. The team had held a try-out for new players and a certain Kim Jongin – a freshman – made it in. Apparently Kyungsoo had to personally coach him and he had no choice but to give in. He later learned that the rookie Kim Jongin is the Jonginnie who lives next door and he was actually a very good player.

Human relationships are funny things, one moment you’re strangers and the next moment you don’t even remember how you became close, suddenly you just are. And Kyungsoo found it easy to be around Jongin and he felt lighter, much happier somewhat. Suddenly it wasn’t just Do Kyungsoo, it was now Do Kyungsoo and Kim Jongin. They were inseparable – where there’s Kyungsoo, there’s bound to be Jongin and vice versa. The thing is, Kyungsoo was never one for socialising but he never failed to catch himself wanting, no, needing Jongin’s presence near him all day, every day. And it scared him.

School was over two hours ago and they were sitting on the rooftop. It has become some sort of routine for them to just sit there and talk about whatever. “You know, Hyung, I’ve never been to your house before,” Jongin said out the blue. Kyungsoo just looked at the younger male, unable to form a coherent word. “It’s just that, we’ve been neighbours for who knows how long now and I just thought… you know…” he lets the sentence hang in the air.

“Do you… want to come over?” Kyungsoo hesitantly asked. It wasn’t because he didn’t want Jongin to come over but he was afraid they were caught on a bad day. He didn’t want anyone to see just how wrecked his home really is behind the average suburban household façade. Especially not Jongin.

“Of course!” he sounded too enthusiastic in Kyungsoo’s ears. So they did just that. They walked side by side all the way home cracking up jokes only the two of them understood. Kyungsoo didn’t know it then, but Jongin was the only one he shared inside jokes with.

“It’s spam, I already told you that. Or maybe someone got the wrong number.” Kyungsoo and Jongin were outside the front door and his parents were inside but the way his dad’s voice boomed, every syllable was clear. His head snapped and his eyes wide as he looked at Jongin.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come over today,” he said quickly. Jongin was about to say something when the screaming started.

“I saw your replies to that . Do you think I’m that stupid?” Kyungsoo half expected Jongin to look sympathetic but he didn’t. Instead, he looked calmly at the older boy, reached out for his hand and smiled. He freaking smiled.

“It’s okay Hyung, I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He let go of Kyungsoo’s hand and backtracked to his house. His eyes never left the younger boy until his figure disappeared inside the doorway. He wonders what Jongin must’ve been thinking as he pulled on his headphones and turned the volume up to the max in hopes he could drown out the shouting. Perhaps if he turns his music up loud enough he won’t be able to hear the sad sound of his heart breaking.

Being with Jongin was like one of those moments when he’s listening to a new song and something just clicked right from the first verse and then it immediately became his favourite song. Being with Jongin felt like those moments when he’s alone on the school’s rooftop singing his heart out. He forgets his sorrows, he’s content and he’s at peace, even if it’s just for a while. In so many ways, Jongin was Kyungsoo’s favourite song and he’s not ready to let it fall off the chart.

❄❄❄