This will be divided into two parts. The portions written in Italic are flashbacks.

    She doesn’t cry.

She doesn’t cry when she delivers the eulogy, brief and faintly pretentious in what she hopes would feed everybody’s expectations. She doesn’t cry when his mother comes over and embraces her and saying things she can’t—no, doesn’t want to hear. She doesn’t cry when the priest is monotonously reciting the last rites while the casket is slowly lowered into the massive hole and flowers are thrown with it. She throws one too, a wrinkled and utterly disassembled red rose she had been holding captive in her crumpled fist. She doesn’t cry but they all do because he’s already down there and his death inevitably becomes genuine in their eyes, their hearts.

No, Riva doesn’t cry.

And when she’s left all alone an hour later, with huge clouds blocking the harsh sunlight in the skies, she stares at his grave. She remembers the first time they talked, he was a good few inches taller than she was so she had to tilt her head up to catch his every expression, every gleam that crossed his beautiful eyes. Now he’s under the ground, literally beneath her feet and she snorts because isn’t life just damn hilarious?

After a few moments of watching him being dead and listening to the soft howl of the wind, she decides she wants to go home. It’s over and there’s nothing here for her anymore.

“ you, Baekhyun. you.” is the last thing she says to the granite tombstone, to him, before turning her back and walking away.

The following days at school become an almost intolerable routine. What makes it worse are the looks other people give her. The accusatory stares are both baffling and amusing, eyes looking at her as if she had any major involvement in her boyfriend’s death, a secret culprit that remains to be interrogated for any accountability she might have had whether it was a lover’s quarrel, acerbic words or little offenses that just accumulated over time. She honestly doesn’t know either and now that he’s gone, she will never come to know. The unbearable ones are the sympathetic impressions; the way people give her pitying looks, treat her like she’s going to snap anytime soon and offer her thinly-veiled condescending words. Their PE teacher even urged her to sit out one of their volleyball games one time. Riva remembers the horrified look on the instructor’s face when she glibly told him my boyfriend is dead, he cannot play volleyball anymore but I certainly still can so why won’t you let me play.

The trip to the principal’s office was so worth it.

This, she thinks as she lays in bed one night, is the consequence of death. Not to the dead person of course but to the living, the people he left behind who now have to make do with what he left, fix what he destroyed and right what he has wronged. This, it turns out, is Baekhyun’s legacy to her.

To be the girlfriend of the dead boy who committed suicide.

She sees him a week after the funeral. He sits beside her under their usual hangout tree without a word, gaze lost on the horizon. She doesn’t bother with small talk, she never does and she isn’t going to start now. But his presence is at least oddly comforting and he is the only one who hasn’t actually tried to spit out unsolicited condolences or pretentious bull in an attempt to make her feel better.

     Jongin has never been particularly good with words and although in the past it secretly dismayed her, she is thankful       for the silence now.

     She lays her head on his shoulder, closes her eyes and blocks out everything else.

~~~O~~~

“You guys are ing, aren’t you?”

They had just been goofing around the classroom, celebrating their teacher’s absence when their outspoken and self-proclaimed class clown who is really just a screwed up son of a with an ego taller than his height and a brain smaller than his balls suddenly decides to drop the bomb.

All eyes were on Baekhyun and Jongin now, waiting for their reactions. Everybody at school knew their tandem was legendary. Best friends ever since toddler Baekhyun puked on toddler Jongin’s shoes because he was crying too much with all the constant bullying and Jongin, already showing signs of a rage machine at a young age, was too incensed by the disturbance that his little fists make quick work over the faces of Baekhyun’s assailants, their unlikely friendship continued until high school where they both became popular, Baekhyun, the quiet intelligent guy and Jongin, the playboy, known for his temper and faultless dancing.

“Aren’t you?” Park Chanyeol’s grin became wider every passing second that his question was left hanging over the air, unanswered. Whether he had a death wish or not, nobody knew, the guy just had a twisted sense of humor.

Baekhyun stared up at him from a book he was reading, unreadable eyes behind framed glasses. But before Jongin could take the necessary steps for his knuckles to reach and travel deep unto Chanyeol’s face, a crisp voice slices through the tension.

“So what if they’re ing? I think it’s better than finding sanctuary in the comfort of your own hand which you would know all about, right Chanyeol?”

They all turned to see Riva, their classmate, fixing the contents of her bag, a smug expression on her face while regarding Chanyeol.

He rolled his eyes at her. “Oh, I forgot all about Ms. Gay Rights Freak. Hey Riva, have you ever considered getting a life?” He shot back at her.

“I don’t know. Have you?” She shrugged, throwing the question back.

“Whatever.” Chanyeol waved a hand dismissively, effectively ending their little dispute because apparently, his paltry intellect had failed to provide him with a witty comeback.

Activity in the classroom ensued as Riva met Baekhyun’s gaze. They’ve been classmates ever since he can remember but for the first time, he’s seeing her.

~~~O~~~

“So what do you want to do?”

He slowly drags his eyes up over her towering figure standing over his table. There is chattering and commotion inside the classroom as the students talk about their after-school plans. “I want to sleep.” He finds himself saying.

She laughs and tugs at the sleeve of his uniform. “Oh comeon, Jongin. There’s a proper time for that.”

“Yes, and it’s right now.”

“Why are you so sleepy anyway? Have you been watching late at night again?” Riva pokes him on the cheek.

He swats her finger away. “What the ? Can’t a guy simply be tired? Jeez, you’re just like Baekhyun. You’re always—“ And he stops, the rest of his sentence dying wordlessly because there’s a fracture in her smile now and it hits him how there are just some things he can’t ever mention again.

Kim Jongin wants to rest. He hasn’t had any decent sleep for the past few days.

But he ends up taking Riva down to the park to fix that cracked smile on her face.

~~~O~~~

“Here. If you guys aren’t busy, you can drop by if you want to.” She handed them a piece of paper.

Baekhyun didn’t take the flyer but he read the words on it. He adjusted his glasses as he looked down at her. “No, thank you. We’re not interested.”

Jongin, on the other hand, snatched the paper from her hand and slowly read it. “Why? What’s that? Let me see. Um… community of gay rights believers. What in the actual is this? You think we’re gay?” His steely indignant eyes locked on hers, paper crumpled in his fist.

Riva wasn’t intimidated. “It’s a club where gay rights are discussed and encouraged. It is not exclusive to a specific gender; the important thing is that he/she cares about the rights of the gay community. One doesn’t actually have to be gay to join it." She deadpanned at him.

“And what the hell gave you the impression we remotely give a rat’s about the rights of faggots?” Jongin challenged.

“Now see, that’s actually one of the bylaws we’re pushing. To decapitate less educated s who insensitively use the word in a poor attempt to sound Western. We’re in Korea, Jongin. Nobody cares if you can say the word.” she retaliated, both hands on her hips.

Baekhyun couldn’t help the smile on his lips as he watched the exchange. “You know what,” he interrupted, ignoring Jongin’s protests of war against their quirky classmate. “On second thought, I think we should go to this, Jongin. Sounds fun. Count us in.” His eyes were on hers, smiling warmly while she beamed back at him.

Three days later, Jongin and Baekhyun found themselves with Riva sitting in a small dingy room about to have their first meeting as members of the gay rights club.

“Are the others coming?” Baekhyun asked, whispering, eyeing the empty chairs surrounding them.

“They would…if we can recruit more.” Riva answered sheepishly.

Jongin had his mouth open. “What the hell do you mean?”

Riva mustered up her sweetest smile. “Kim Jongin and Byun Baekhyun, I welcome you as the first recruits of the Community of Gay Rights Believers.”

~~~O~~~

He is both surprised and baffled to see her standing on his porch when he opens the door.

“What are you still doing? Where’s your stuff?” she frowns at him, both hands on her hips, a sling bag dangling on her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he scratches his head.

Riva shakes her head and rolls her eyes at him. “It’s Saturday, stupid. We always have picnics on the beach on Saturdays.”

“We’re still doing that?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

Jongin is able to stop himself. He knows the rules now and he’s going to play it right this time. “You’re right. Give me a minute and we can go.”

“Don’t you just love the breeze?” she says as she lays her back on the sand. Jongin tries not to stare at her body beneath the thin wet shirt plastered to it after her little swim. He stuffs a chicken sandwich in his mouth and looks away.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, dickhead.” She complains, giggling slightly.

He swallows the food first before answering. “I thought your statement was rhetorical.”

She suddenly sits up and points at him. “Oh my gosh. Did you just use an encyclopedic word on me?” Her smile is beautiful. He can just make out the faint little droplets of water slowly creeping down her face and realizes he wants to them off her skin.

Not to taste it. But to taste her.

He mentally kicks the awkward thoughts away. “Rhetorical is hardly encyclopedic, Riva.”

She covers in mock surprise. “And you understand what encyclopedic means too. Oh, Jongin I’m so proud of you.”

“ off, will you? What’s up with you today, anyway?”

She continues to smile at him. “Nothing. I just have this brilliant idea in my mind.”

They have different views on what could be considered brilliant but he doesn’t tell her that. “What is it?”

She crosses her legs and looks at him seriously. “I think it’s time for us to revive the gay rights club.”

“Okay, forget I asked.” Jongin waves his hand dismissively.

Riva laughs and crawls over to sit beside him. “No, listen. This will work this time, I promise. We didn’t get to have any traction back in our first year because face it, people weren’t really open to the idea, right? But I think now that we’ve grown and matured, they’ll consider it.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m supporting you in this.”

“You supported me back then.” She points out.

“No, I didn’t. It was B—“ he backtracks just in time and revises his words rapidly. “It was your stupid plan to enlist me so you can use my looks to attract gay people the wrong way. And now that I think about it, that’s why your club flopped.”

 “Don’t flatter yourself, Jongin. You’re not that good-looking.” Riva merely guffaws at him and slaps the back of his head playfully. He pokes her forehead to retaliate but ends up hitting her nose instead. They laugh at each other and Jongin thinks, they can do this. They can go on without him. Baekhyun left, taking a huge part of them with him but he likes to think, to hope, that together, they can heal. Together, they can be whole again.

Just him and Riva. Just like he sometimes dreamed it would be.

~~~O~~~

“So you guys are not gay.”

It was after school hours. Jongin had dance practice so it was only Baekhyun and Riva sitting under the massive oak tree at the park and idly watching birds fly in V-formation.

“The answer hasn’t changed as when you asked me during lunch. And Math class. And Biology class. No, we’re not gay.”

“Okay, just making it clear.” Riva shrugged. “It would have been hot, though.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged again as response. “The reticent scholarly boy, the loud arrogant dancer and the forbidden secret romance. You guys practically scream boy to boy fan fiction.”

Instead of throwing a hissy fit like Jongin probably would, Baekhyun exploded into laughter. “You write stuff like that?”

“What’s so funny about it?” she gave him the evil eye. No one gets away with mocking the very thing that makes her happy.

“Nothing. On the contrary, it’s very interesting.” He smiled at her. “So is that the reason why you started hanging out with us? For research purposes?”

“If I say yes, would you stop being friends with me?” she peered up at him, waiting for his answer expectantly.

His smile was reassuring as he shook his head. “No, of course not. I like your company. And even if Jongin acts like a jerk, I’m sure he does too.”

“Jongin doesn’t act like a jerk. He is one.” she corrected and they share a laugh.

“Just to clarify things once and for all. You’re really not gay?” Riva persisted, an attempt at humor if anything.

Baekhyun wasn’t entirely sure if the sudden surge of bravado that filled him was brought on by a need to solidify his point to her but before he can fully assess himself,  his hand suddenly curled around Riva’s neck to bring her closer until their lips were only a short breath apart. This close, he could make out the luminous grey specks dotting her brown eyes.

“I can always just prove it to you right here, right now.” he said, his voice coming out huskier than he’d intended.

Riva gulped visibly, all traces of her previous temerity withering. With shaky hands, she pushed him away. Silence followed, her aggravated stare locked unto his unapologetic eyes.

Finally, she gave up, looking away, chuckling, an action that allowed the tension to diffuse. “Okay, my bad. I pushed you too far.”

Baekhyun laughed, nodding and not taking his eyes off of her.

~~~O~~~

It is exams week and they are both snowed under by thick books, haphazardly copied notes and scattered hand outs. They are in his room and she is sprawled on the bed, two fat text books opened side by side lay before her as she tries to devour their contents simultaneously.

“Riva, I can practically hear your brain cells choking and dying.” Jongin comments, lazily thumbing through his notes.

She doesn’t answer and he doubts she even heard him. It is at times like this, when the silence is dragging, ordinary and still, when Jongin feels the weight of his absence.

He feels it in the empty chair, the extra space in his room where he used to station himself, reading a book or typing away in his laptop. He feels it in the staleness of a lecture inside the classroom, he feels it in the gap between himself and Riva when they walk home from school. Jongin feels it all. It is in every little thing that he does, the little interstices in his routine, the pause between his words. Byun Baekhyun’s absence has become an ineffaceable burden. And he is left with nothing to do rather than feel it.

And always he wonders if she feels it too. But with her smiles and her constant chatter, maybe his worry is all for nothing. Riva is strong; he knows that and despite his resolute promise to be her strength when her own falls short, she seems to be taking it better than he does.

She looks up and regards him. “Did you say something?”

There it is again. That expectation. To hear a third voice join the conversation. The thought almost makes him stagger if he isn’t already lying down on the floor.

Just when I thought I can handle it, he thinks.

He stares at her face, expression thoughtful, brows scrunched together and glossed lips pursed.

The person that is here in front of him and the person he can never see again. Two central people in his life. One under the grave and one looking at him in concern and he breathes a little easily again because where Baekhyun pulls him downward, Riva pulls him up.

His absence. Her presence.

“Nothing. I said your brain cells must probably be dying now.” he gives her a mischievous smile, not betraying the quiet turmoil going on inside him.

She throws an eraser at him and it hits him squarely on the cheek. She laughs and the radiance of it calms him for a little while.

Yes, we’re going to be okay, he tells himself.

He doesn’t know if he believes it.

~~~O~~~

Baekhyun swiped the sweat off his brow and regarded his two friends. “Are you guys crazy?”

Riva looked back at him, mischievous grin in place. “Maybe.”

“It’s bad enough that we skipped gym classes.” Baekyun continued whining.

“Enough chitchat, hand me that, quickly.” Jongin interrupted, motioning to the huge glass jar filled with their own brand of surprise.

Baekhyun reluctantly pushes it to him. Then Riva holds the bag open as Jongin opens the jar and swiftly empties its contents into it.

“Oh that bastard will himself.” Jongin cackled.

“Hurry, close it, close it.” Baekhyun harshly whispered, mildly panicking.

Riva looked at him, zipping Chanyeol’s bag close and laughing. “Crap, Baekhyun. We don’t need you chickening out on us. That’s not our goal here.”

“Yeah, man. Take a chill pill.” Jongin seconded. “All right, we’re outta here.”

The three of them exited the boys locker room and hid in the nearest empty classroom to get a good view to observe their handiwork.

Not long after, gym was over and their classmates poured out of the sports hall in steady quadrants. Chanyeol and his minions went straight to the locker room to change back into their uniforms.

“Gentlemen, we are about to witness some results.” Riva announced, peeking out of their hiding place.

Surely, not two minutes have passed and shrieks were heard from the locker room, followed by the sound of doors slamming then a running parade of half- boys led by a very skinny Park Chanyeol who wore nothing but tattered boxers. They all emerged from the said room and into the hallway with a dozen bullfrogs jumping and croaking after them.

Every clueless student was beholden to the sight and needless to say, it was an incident about to be remembered more than their graduation.

By this time, Jongin and Riva were both a hysterical mess on the floor, gasping for dear life, uninhibited laughter wracking their bodies. It had gone better and way more hilarious than they expected.

And he hadn’t realized it but Baekhyun was sprawled on the ground too, laughing until there were tears in his eyes.

~~~O~~~

Even the tossing and turning becomes too tiring so he sits up on the bed.

This is impossible. Sleep is difficult to come by now and he is very tired.

“.” Jongin roughly shoves a hand through his hair. “Get out of my head, Baekhyun.”

He sighs and slams his body back to the sheets. “Please.” He begs into the darkness.

The silence is shattered when his phone rings, grating sounds echoing off the walls. He slowly reaches up under his pillow and squints at the harsh light of the screen.

Riva.

“Are you there?” she immediately asks without preamble as soon as he answers.

He realizes right away something is wrong. “Yes, why? What is it? What’s the matter?” He sits up again.

There is silence on the other line and the only thing he can hear is her breathing. Vaguely, he thinks that she can hear his too. “Hey, what is it? Something wrong?”

She doesn’t answer and there is an unpleasant rumbling in his guts. He doesn’t know what to make of her stillness, doesn’t know if it’s her or it’s just him.

“Riva.” He whispers softly. “I’m here.”

He hears rustling and then an almost imperceptible, “I’m here too, Jongin.”

The line goes dead and there is no more breathing, no more rustling. Jongin only hears static now. He hears the sound of emptiness.

~~~O~~~

They don’t talk about it the next day. In fact, they don’t talk much at all. Not about the things that matter at least. They talk about school, about TV shows, about the weather. They talk but they don’t really tell each other anything. They hear one another out but don’t really listen.

Jongin notices it now. He should have earlier but it doesn’t really matter, he tells himself. Which is a lie. Of course it matters. It matters when Riva fills every silence between them with mindless chatter, like it’s her obligation. It matters when her laughs are too loud now, too obnoxious for it to mean actual happiness. It matters when her smiles stop being smiles anymore and instead become brick walls where she can hide whatever it is she is truly feeling.

He remembers her voice that night. It is vivid now and he sees everything with a newfound lucidity.

Are you there?

He recognizes misery. Riva is just as wretched as he is.

Maybe even more because just as the imminence of dark and pregnant rainclouds about to burst in heavy downpour loom in quiet foreboding, slowly, she is slipping.

Jongin doesn’t know it but this moment of clarity is just the calm before the storm.

-to be continued-

part 2 will be longer and will (hopefully) be posted soon

riva, dear, sorry this took a while to update and you'll have to forgive my writing.

it's rusty, i know. i miss you, dude.

my beloved subs, thank you for subscribing and reading. have a nice day.