The Inane Perpetuation of Predictable Vapidness
5th Life
My name is Park Chanyeol and I have lived 211 years. That is 77,015 days, 1,848,360 hours, and 110,901,600 minutes of me being a cynical prick, hoping the world will end in a violent explosion. Actually, I don’t want the Earth the explode, I just wish I’d spontaneously combust. The Earth didn’t do anything wrong to deserve such a fiery fate. Its only fault was having me in it.
Living 211 years gives you millions of stories of how idiotic people can be. I might write an excessively large book about my experiences and call it, “The Inane Perpetuation of Predictable Vapidness”. Chapter one would be about the man who almost chopped my head off, not that I would die from a small flesh wound like that. Or maybe I’ll write about the deity who gave me immortality.
Oh wait, deities aren’t human, are they? Well, they’re more idiotic than any human. They have supernatural powers and whimsical natures and that, ladies and gentlemen, is probably the worst combination of traits anyone could have.
See, when I was about 18 years old, I thought it would be a swell idea to look for food in the mountains. I got in a fight with my overbearing father and being the ungrateful I was, I ran away from home. I couldn’t really cook anything so I tried eating some plants to curb my appetite. I came across this tasty looking root-mabob-thing and this lady comes out of nowhere, giggling.
What freaked me out at first was the glowing. Secondly, she was floating. Lastly, she knew my name and the names of my all my ancestors. All I could think was, “Wow, hi, beautiful lady. I’m just going to go to travel to the corner of the Earth and fall off the edge because you’re scaring the hell out of me.” Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. I knew the world was round, not flat. It was the 1800s after all.
Since that fateful encounter 193 years ago, I have not aged, I have not grown sick, and I have not died. When I got hurt, I healed almost instantly and if I starved myself, I would still go on living. I would just be hungry. The deity told me that the reason she gave me immortality was because my “beauty” was worthy of it. She kissed my forehead and had me eat the magical root-mabob-thing. I didn’t feel any different nor did I look any different afterwards, but I knew. I knew I wasn’t the same.
She said that one day, I will thank her for the immortality. In some ways, it could be considered a blessing and though I have tried again and again to hate this gift, I have been grateful. To be exact, I have been grateful 4 times throughout my life, but that thankfulness was always followed by extremely long periods of intense hate.
So I am, for lack of better words, miserable. I am more miserable than all of the brooding teenagers in the world combined. Why? Basically, I spent 193 years as a raging hormonal wreck, generation after generation, as a piece of archaic history persisting in the present.
I am the inane perpetuation of predictable vapidness.
Today is April 15th, 2014 and it is week 5 of spring semester at HongIk University in Bucheon. When I first came to the University, I hadn’t been in Bucheon for about 160 years. Everyone I knew back then died a long time ago, not that I knew a lot of people in the first place. I wasn’t very outgoing and I think I came across as a misanthropist. 160 years ago, I probably was a misanthropist because I had come to the revelation that immortality came with a curse. I was cursed. And I hated everyone for it.
This wasn’t a curse like the ones on King Tut’s tomb or the Kennedy Family; it was much more cruel and spiteful. This curse gave me the biggest hope and joy I could have ever asked for, only for it to be taken away in one swoop. The curse comes and goes and when he’s here, my will to live grows exponentially. When he’s gone, I feel like the epitome of white noise and deep space. It was devastatingly overwhelming and empty.
That’s right, HE. My curse was in the form of a man. His name is Kim Junmyun, Do Kyungsoo, Zhang Yixing, and Oh Sehun. They are the same man but reincarnated, and he is, was, and will be, my everything.
When I was made immortal, I had fallen in love with a man named Kim Junmyun a couple years after the fact. He was an unassuming character. My first impression of him was that he was a reserved man with quick insight. He was handsome with soft features but he was not particularly striking. But there was still something about him that tugged at me. He could draw you in with his eloquence and quick-wittedness. He had a gentle smile that hid all his pain and eyes that expressed his every emotion. He was perceptive, unconventional, tenderhearted, and wise.
He could keep me up all night talking while also making me so comfortable that I could fall asleep in his embrace. He challenged me to think outside the box and taught me to cherish all the small moments that I would bat away with the blink of my long eyelashes. Junmyun knew I was out of place and that I was lost, but he accepted everything I was and everything I wasn’t. He melted the ice around my heart like the spring sun that is shining today. Today is April 15, 2014.
April… that was when Junmyun died. That year, the snow had melted early but it was still blisteringly cold. Despite that, the forsythias started blooming like if it could not tell how cold it was. Junmyun smiled at the bright yellow flowers and said, “Chanyeol, these flowers remind me of you. They remind me of all the good things in life.”
I remember how he sat among them, sitting extremely still so the bird nearby wouldn’t become alarmed and fly away. He laughed when a bee would fly by me because I always hold my breath when those satanic creatures fly by. I’ve had a traumatic experience with being stung so I wasn’t fond of them. His laughter was so melodic, loud, and full of life but that was only a sweet illusion.
Junmyun had been sick for years and he was dying. No one could cure him and though he would become violently ill, he was not afraid to die. That very day we spent laughing around the forsythias, he took his last breath. He took with him, my heart. I was consumed with fear, hate, pain, suffering, and bitterness.
I knew there was something different about that day when I woke up to Junmyun sitting by the window. He usually needed help to get up to sit there. Junmyun was always in pain but that day he looked so relaxed and peaceful. That night he laid down, with my hand in his, and the last thing he said to me before he died was, “The forsythias are lovely this year. They remind me of you.”
A day later, I watched his family bury him under those flowers we had sat around. When it finally hit me that I could no longer hold Junmyun or hear his voice, I became a shell of myself. I cried myself to sleep every night until I met Kyungsoo, a 22 year old musician, 41 years after Junmyun's death.
Kyungsoo looked nothing like Junmyun; he was slightly shorter and he had an eye-catching countenance. Despite that, his aura and essence was unmistakably the same. I knew Kyungsoo was Junmyun’s reincarnation. When I met him for the first time, I was consumed with not only joy, but fear. The reason was because Kyungsoo had been sick for years and he was dying. No one could cure him and even though he would become violently ill, he was not afraid to die. Like a horrible black and white Deja Vu film, it didn’t take long for me to guess the ending.
Kyungsoo was going to die and he was going to reincarnate and I would wait for him.
Forsythias remind me of the day Junmyun and all his reincarnations died. They were blooming everywhere in Bucheon. It was as if they were telling me not to forget that Sehun, Junmyun’s third reincarnation, had died 38 years ago and that it was about time I met Junmyun again. Thank you, Mother Nature, I didn’t forget that fact that but thanks for reminding me with your damn forsythias anyway. Now I’ll just spend the rest of the school year thinking about the time I will meet Junmyun again and what he would be like in this lifetime.
Junmyun was never the same in each life. He looked different and even had different personalities but I would, without fail, fall in love him. Junmyun had so much laughter and warmth to share. Kyungsoo was beautiful inside and out, but he was also a little hot-headed and blunt. When Kyungsoo died, I left Bucheon. I left the country altogether because I couldn’t stay in Korea anymore. The memories were too painful.
At the time, I could only afford to go as far as China and I thought that maybe if I went away, Junmyun would not reincarnate or if he did, maybe he won’t be able to find me. Maybe then he will not have to die a painful death. But I was naive. A curse will not leave you simply because you leave the place of its origin. Without a doubt, I met Junmyun’s reincarnation, Zhang Yixing, at the cliff now called ChangKong 62 years after Kyungsoo's death. I wanted to jump off the edge the moment I saw him but I couldn’t do it.
He is my everything and I had found him again. I found myself again.
He was taller than Kyungsoo and had the most gorgeous auburn eyes. He was a man of few words but was not lacking in affection. Even though his family thought he was some kind of freak because of his eyes and his strange ailments, he loved them unconditionally and would do anything for them. He was the definition of loyal and strong.
I came back to Korea when Yixing died, knowing it was futile trying to flee the country. I also needed to leave China because everything reminded me of Yixing and I had to get away. I decided that maybe I will try to stay away from Junmyun in his next life and maybe, he would be able to live long. I avoided him the best I could.
When I saw Oh Sehun who was strongheaded and mischievous, I knew right away who he was. And yet, I also knew he was different from his past lives. He was a broken man from a dysfunctional family. He was not quick to trust and was ruthless but I could see the sparks of innocence and complete adoration he had for me in his eyes.
My attempts to get away from him only drew him closer but one thing I did figure out was that his death was because of me. As was the death of Yixing, Kyungsoo, and Junmyun. When I stayed away, they seemed to live longer. Out of Junmyun’s 4 lives, Sehun lived the longest and it was probably because I tried hard to stay away. Yixing lived longer than Kyungsoo but he died earlier than Sehun because I gave into my loneliness faster (*see bottom for the order of reincarnation*).
Call me a selfish, hopeless romantic but until you’ve been in my shoes, don’t judge the decisions I have made. Especially because I have decided not to meet with Junmyun’s reincarnation, this time around. I will try my absolute best to avoid him. Maybe that way he won’t die. Maybe he’ll live a decent life and maybe he’ll fall in love with someone who won’t kill him.
I want so badly to think this decision wasn’t a selfish one but who am I kidding, it was the most selfish things I had ever done. Yes, I want him to live. I want him to have a real shot at a long life but I also want to protect myself. I don’t know if I can handle losing him again. After Sehun died, I had never felt such intense devastation. I knew he was going to come back and yet I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breath because I couldn’t see him again. It has been 38 years and I still can’t move on.
“Hello! Come join us at Bucheon Mission Church for bible study,” a pretty girl told me while handing me a lime green flier. The bible study was at 7-8PM in the music building.
“No thank you, I’m not Christian,” I said but I took the flier anyways.
“You’re very handsome,” she said in a very matter-of-fact tone. I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or self conscious about that. If she knew I was actually the age of her great, great, great, great grandfather, she probably wouldn’t have thought I was handsome. Oh, if only she knew.
I smiled at her awkwardly, said thanks, and walked away. I don’t want to toot my own horn but yeah, I’m pretty damn handsome. That’s why the deity gave me immortality. Damn my parents’ genes. I wouldn’t have to go through this miserable life if it wasn’t for their looks and my father’s obstinate stubbornness that drove me away… but those are only excuses. It was all my fault that I was miserable. I shouldn’t have been looking for food in the mountains in the first place.
When I got through the entryway, the whole campus was covered in forsythia plants. How cruel. It was cruel yesterday, it is cruel today, and the world still goes ‘round.
The world seemed like a beautiful garden on the inside of a shatterproof greenhouse. I am outside and I’m not allowed in to join the children in front of me. They will laugh, grow up, have ups and downs, and then die. Resting in eternal peace. Unlike me.
I will forever walk this Earth, unable to end this inane perpetuation of predictable vapidness because I am always waiting. I meet Junmyun every few decades and that is the amount of years people grow up and find themselves. For them, whether it’s bad or good, they make their own choices. My choices are made for me.
Sehun died 38 years ago and 38 seems like a good number of years to pass for fate to mess with my feelings again. I want to see him, so very much, but I don’t want to meet him. I’m afraid. Please fate, don’t be so cruel to me. Four times is enough.
“Are you sure you want to go to school? You don’t have to go to college, you know. You should stay in the hospital a little longer, Baekhyun.”
“Hyung, I’m fine. If I feel sick, I will call you. There are also doctors on campus. I’m not a child so, calm down,” I said as I put my hands on my brother’s shoulders. My brother was an accomplished virologist and diagnostician and he is the only living relative I had left. We only have each other.
My brother, Jaehyun, became a virologist and diagnostician so he could try to diagnose what I had and cure it. He has not found it yet. I know I’m going to die but I’m not afraid. Life will go on without me and I have no doubt my brother will be fine. I never tell him that I think his attempts to cure me are futile but I know he’s losing hope. I just want to encourage him and give him good memories while I’m still alive. If not, maybe we’ll meet in the next life. I can make it up to him then.
I’m not buddhist or superstitious or anything but Koreans say that phrase a lot, “let’s meet in the next life”. I don’t really know if there’s a next life, a heaven, a hell, or a paradise with beautiful women but whatever is after death, I’m ready for it. I don’t want to be sick but I don’t want to die. Death is final and it’s too early for the end. I hope there is life after death, like reincarnation.
“Hello! Come join us at Bucheon Mission Church for bible study. There will be snacks!” a pretty girl said to me. I smiled at her and tried to grab the flier but my brother was faster. My reflexes weren’t exactly the best after spending so much time in a hospital bed. He pulled me aside and looked me in the eyes.
“Hyung, come on.” This was exasperating.
“Listen, I’m happy for you. Really. I’m glad that you’re going to school but I guess I’m just a little scared. You’re all I have left and since I’m usually with you all the time. I guess I’m just feeling a little lonely.”
Jaehyun looked so sad and to be honest, I felt a little guilty. My brother has been overprotective of me since my parents died. When I started to get sick, he was obsessed with my well-being. No one could ever ask for a better sibling but I felt smothered. I loved my brother, truly, but his love was suffocating. I need to venture out into the world, even if it killed me.
Jaehyun was bigger than me, more muscular, and taller. I guess maybe there was a difference in build because of my unknown illnesses. He has been with me through thick and thin and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. My illness comes and goes. Some days are good and some days are ty. When it was ty, it was REALLY ty but I can’t be cooped up in a hospital forever. I don’t want to be owned by my illness, I want to be me.
“I’m gonna fix you, Baekhyun,” Jaehyun said as he got one foot into a taxi. I could tell he was hesitating to fully sit down but he needed this separation more than I did. I have come to terms with the fact that I am dying but my softhearted brother wouldn’t even imagine it. There was a time I told him that I think he should give up on diagnosing me. He flipped his and I have never seen him so angry. He didn’t cry when our parents died in the car accident so long ago, but he cried that day.
I never brought it up again but maybe if I was around him less, he’ll be able to cope faster. I’m going to die, it’s just a matter of time. He’s a doctor, after all, so he’ll understand. All doctors lose their patients sometimes and a lot of the time, it’s out of their hands. My illness and eventual death is out of his hands.
I smiled at him and said, “I trust you,” before he finally sat in the car. The taxi driver drove away without a second thought and there was something liberating about this. I felt a little lonely too, but I was excited. This was the first time in years that I have been excited about something since I was in and out of the hospital a lot.
My brother wasn’t going to be able to fix me. I don’t think anyone will be able to. I have been sick for a good 6-7 years. I have been diagnosed with cancer, autoimmune disease, endocarditis, thrombosis, sepsis, coagulopathy, and a plethora of other diagnoses that I have never even heard of.
I’ve gone through chemo, taken steroids, immunosuppressive drugs, and number of other medications, but I figured out pretty fast that they were doing nothing for me. My brother and his colleagues have no clue what is killing me and they have no idea when or how I’ll die. I was the picture of perfect health but I would come down with sudden bouts of illness that mimicked other diseases and disorders. Each bout left me weaker than before and nothing was making me better.
I’m not afraid to die because everyone dies. Dying earlier doesn’t make my life any more special than my brother. I wish he’d just focus on himself and not me. If it wasn’t for me, he probably would have gotten married.
I sighed and entered campus which was covered in bright yellow flowers. The forsythias are lovely this year. There was a pleasant aroma surrounding the campus that was sweet and bitter. That bitter smell might be from the medicine I had this morning but nonetheless, it smelled better than the hospital.
The guy sitting in front of me could be the next Picasso. I am seriously moved by his determined and interpretive shading. I’m just kidding. The guy is drawing a picture of Harry Potter on his desk. His doodle of the young, chosen wizard looks like a beaten spoon being smited by Thor’s lightning bolts.
I recently saw “The Avengers” so now I know that Thor is a some kind of Norse god and American superhero. I only found out about Harry Potter 5 years ago. I found the tale amusing but also too fantastical. It’s pretty ironic that I’m immortal and I find a tale of magic “too fantastical”.
It is 10:50 and there is 10 minutes until the psychology course started. I honestly needed a random credit so I thought Abnormal Psychology would suit it just fine. It appealed to me because I am abnormal, but this course covers bipolar disorder and Phineas Gage, not immortality. I know a lot of scientists say claims to the supernatural, like immortality, are just hoaxes or pseudoscience. you science, Ghosts and Aliens are real. Didn’t you watch Casper and ET?
5 minutes had passed and the classroom was starting to fill up with students who had gotten their fill of vitamin D in the sun today. The seats around me were all taken, coincidentally, by women. I did not turn around when people entered or sat around me. I kept looking forward.
The girl to my right smelled heavily of perfume. It smelled good but it was overpowering and I was starting to get a headache. The girl on my left was staring at me again. God, why does she do that? We have been at this school 5 weeks and she still hasn’t gotten used to my face? Take a picture child, it’ll last longer… actually, don’t take a picture, I don’t want to be documented in any way.
The internet is scary. It was invented around the 50-60s by the U.S., British, and French military but now it is everywhere and anything you upload there will forever be recorded. I don’t want to be recorded because people will find out. Being immortal is a secret between me and fate. No one else should know, not even Junmyun’s reincarnations.
This isn’t my first time at a University. 200 years is a long time and I spent 10 years of my life getting a medical degree. Yes, I am a doctor but I haven’t practiced in 22 years. Technology and new research has changed the medical field so much that even if I went back in, I would have no idea what to do. I specialized in Hematology, or in other words, blood. There wasn’t much about blood that interested me anymore.
The class started and I hadn’t even realized that all the seats were taken. The female professor, Dr. Yoon Seulhye, took up the podium. The doctor was young, probably only a little over 30, but she was at the top of her field of neuropsychology. She was quite beautiful and a little too optimistic. Her optimism kind of annoyed me but for someone who has to work with terminally brain damaged patients, it’s no wonder she took up a smiley disposition. She has to be optimistic or else her patients would lose hope… or I guess, she would too.
30-some minutes after the doctor went on and on about the supramarginal gyrus in the parietal lobe, I felt a tap on my shoulder. A male voice asked me if I could pick up his pencil. His voice sounded kind of husky but it wasn’t deep or scratchy. It was unique and strangely soothing. The pencil was conveniently right in-between my feet so I grabbed the black and white pencil. It said “Bucheon Critical Care Hospital” on it. I handed it to him.
While trying to perform some pen tricks, my pencil rolled off the edge of the desk and landed in-between the long legs of the guy in front of me. It’s probably 24 degrees celsius outside but he was wearing all black. I could only imagine how hot he was. I tapped the guy on the shoulder and asked him to pick it up for me. At first, he didn’t seem to react but nodded and reached for it. What a strange guy, he didn’t even turn around to see who tapped him.
He took a moment and read the writing on the pencil. It says “Bucheon Critical Care Hospital” on it. I grabbed it from my brother’s desk the other day when I couldn’t open my bag of gummy bears. I stabbed a hole in the bag and placed the pen in my pocket. I forgot to give it back.
The guy turned around and I was surprised at how good looking he was. He looks like a Kpop idol. Despite his lankiness, he had a really youthful face and he also looked extremely familiar. Maybe we’ve met before? Or maybe he really is an idol and I saw him on a billboard or something.
His smile fell from his face and his eyes grew wide. He seemed really scared and angry. His reaction made me self-conscious. Maybe he did know me? Did I ever wrong anyone in my life? I don’t think I did. He quickly turned around and ran his long fingers through his soft looking black hair.
Geez. What’s up with that guy?
Damn it. mother nature. fate. me. Of course this would happen.
Once the professor dismissed the class I got up quickly and sped out the door. I was sitting in the middle of the room and I was first one out.
I need to switch out of the class or maybe I should transfer out of the school? Was he always in my class? I never look around me so I don’t know the people in the class. I don’t know anyone but the two girls who sit next to me but even then I didn’t know their names. It was like Minhee or Jaehee? Or maybe it was Nayoung or Ahreum? Damn it, I should’ve looked around.
This is not only funny but cruel. I came to school thinking I could avoid this. I guess you’re dumber than you thought you were, Park Chanyeol. You win, fate. You ing win.
Junmyun and his reincarnations were afraid of education. They thought that if they went to school and learned about the world, they would regret dying early. They weren’t ignorant to how dismal the world was but they wanted to be ignorant to the beauty of the world. Those masochists. But I thought that fear was some kind of perpetuation. I thought all of Junmyun’s lives would be afraid to come to school. So why is he here?
I made quick turns around this brand new building which was completely glass on one side. I could see people bustling inside. It was some sort of research facility but there was a cafe called “The Atrium” on the first floor. I went in.
It smelled of coffee, earl grey tea, onion bagels, and lemons. I didn’t know where I was going in this building but I took the elevator to the 8th floor. I don’t know why, the 8th floor seemed like a good enough place to be. I found some random empty seats, so I sat there. People in white lab coats passed me by but I guess it wasn’t weird for me to sit here. They didn’t say anything.
This . I’m running away like a coward but how could I stay? Where could I go? When I turned around and saw the boy’s face, he had the same disapproving facial expression Sehun made when he met strangers. It surprised me and now I’m depressed. He wasn't Sehun but at the same time he was Sehun. He is the 4th reincarnation... the 5th life. I have just met Junmyun's reincarnation.
I can’t breath.
And that pencil! It said “Bucheon Critical Care Hospital”, didn’t it? That means he’s critically sick, doesn’t it? He’s dying and he met me, which will only make him more ill… what do I do? I probably offended him when I freaked out when I saw him. Maybe he’ll hate me? I don’t want him to hate me but it’s probably for the better. I should be a jerk to him. Would that make him stay away? No, but I tried that with Sehun and it didn’t work. Why did he have to make that face Sehun always made? I’m scared. Please stop this fate. I'm scared.
***Order of lives: Junmyun (1st life), Kyungsoo (2nd life), Yixing (3rd life), Sehun (4th life), Baekhyun (5th life)***
I will put up the next chapter in a couple days.
All narraration in Courier New is Chanyeol's POV
All narraration in Times New Roman is Baekhyun's POV
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