“Daehyun-ah…”

It was a voice he thought he’d never hear again.  As Daehyun stood rooted to the spot in shock, he felt blankness in his mind that he hadn’t felt since all those years ago.  He couldn’t look away from Youngjae’s still youthful but weary face; he couldn’t turn his ears away from the soft voice that called out his name. 

He could feel a bubbling in his chest.  It was a familiar sensation and was often followed by long bouts of suffocation, imploding pain, and buckets of tears.  Before anyone could react, he turned and quickly ran up the stairs to his room.  Shutting the door tightly behind him, he heard footsteps follow him before a soft knock came at his door.

“Daehyun,” Youngjae’s voice echoed through the door, “Please… open the door.”

Daehyun shook his head and clasped his hands to his ears.  He gasped as a familiar weight settled on his chest.  His heart thudded loudly in his ears and his own breath helped drown out Youngjae’s voice as the latter continued to plead from the other side of the door.

He thought he would be happy if Youngjae ever visited.  He had imagined it countless times during his long days stocking vegetables and fruits.  He imagined himself filled with happiness at seeing Youngjae’s smiling face; he imagined them hugging, eating together, and catching up on old times because the truth was, he never blamed Youngjae. 

That night had been a freak accident.  They had been overworked and, as a short breather, Youngjae had suggested they go out to grab a bite.  He’d agreed enthusiastically because he was bored of eating burgers, bread, and hand rolls.  So the two of them had hailed a cab and climbed in.  Even though the roads had been icy earlier that morning, the day’s sun had melted all of the ice… or at least they thought it did.  The driver didn’t see the black ice on the bridge.  Their cab tumbled just as it reached the other side of the bridge and smashed into the guard rails.  He couldn’t remember much after that.  He remembered being thrown out of the car and landing on cold concrete.  He remembered Youngjae’s bleeding face over top of his, yelling his name.  He remembered a burning sensation in his lungs as if he would never breathe again.  And then… he remembered the white washed ceiling of a hospital without Youngjae.

In the years since the accident, his memories of it had begun to fade.  At times, he couldn’t remember at all.  Now, he wish he could stop remembering.  He didn’t want to remember how his world had crumbled at the news of losing his voice.  He didn’t want to remember his mother’s soft sobs behind his hospital room door where she thought he couldn’t hear her.  He didn’t want to remember seeing the members’ faces as they pretended that everything would be the same because nothing… nothing would ever be the same again.

It had taken him months to get suicide out of his mind for good.  His psychiatrist had helped him accept that there was life beyond singing, something he had difficulty accepting at first.  When he finally beginning showing signs of life, his mother had insisted he move back home.  Even as he returned to his hometown, he never thought of blaming Youngjae for the accident.  It wasn’t logical; it didn’t make sense. 

But now, as Youngjae knocked on his door again and again, Daehyun found himself wishing Youngjae would disappear.  He wished Youngjae would go back to the hole he’d been hiding in all this time and leave him alone.  For the first time in seven years… he found himself hating Yoo Youngjae.

Youngjae placed a palm to the door and leaned his forehead against it.  It had taken every ounce of willpower not to break down and cry the moment Daehyun turned and ran.  Instead, he’d given chase but it was no use; Daehyun had shut him out.

He knew this would happen; it was something he had expected the moment he decided to pack up his bags and go to Busan.  Even so, it hurt so terribly that he felt like escaping back to his routine life again.  He wanted to grab his bag and get on the next train back to Seoul.  But he didn’t.  He knew that if he did, it would truly be the end.

“That boy,” Daehyun’s mother sighed as Youngjae went back downstairs, “I know he wanted to see you all these years even if he couldn’t say it himself.”  She gave him an apologetic smile.  “Please don’t give up on him, Youngjae-yah,” she said softly, “It’s… been a rough few years for him but I’m sure he’ll open up.”

“Yes,” Youngjae said, the lump in his throat making his voice hoarse, “I understand.  I should have called a head of time…”  He hadn’t even had time to properly pack before he’d raced to the train station.  He knew he had to act before he could change his mind.

“How long are you planning on staying in town?” she asked, putting a hand on his arm, “If you don’t have a place to stay yet, we have a guest room-”

“Ah, thank you,” Youngjae said, “But I already booked a hotel room.  I’ll be staying for a week.  I was able to get some time off from work so…”  It felt strange saying that to Daehyun’s mother; she had been a front-line supporter of B.A.P back in the day. 

She nodded and said, “You’ll stay for dinner at least?”

“No,” Youngjae said softly, glancing upstairs at the tightly closed bedroom door, “I’ll… come back tomorrow.  It must have been a shock for him to see me so suddenly.  I’m… not really a person he would want to see.”  Even his own words seemed to stab at his heart. 

Before he could burst into tears, he bowed to Daehyun’s mother one last time before making his way out onto the streets.  Taking a deep breath, he began walking towards the bus stop two blocks down.  The truth was, he hadn’t booked a hotel.  He had no idea where he would sleep that night but he was certain it wouldn’t be under the same roof as Jung Daehyun.

Sitting down at the bench inside of the stop, Youngjae tried to collect himself.  He was in public, he reminded himself, crying was not an option.  He gripped his bag tightly as he blinked away the stinging behind his eyes.  He had to get himself together; he could always cry later.  For now, he needed a place to stay because the winter daylight was fading fast.

Taking out his phone, he searched for motels in the vicinity and called a cab.  Luckily, rooms were still available upon such short notice.  Settling into his room, Youngjae tried to think of a plan of attack.

Daehyun was hurting; he knew that.  Even if years had passed, a wound like this didn’t heal so easily.  He himself was still suffering; things would only be worse for Daehyun.  Even so, he was determined to do something.  He had risked his job when he’d called his boss and told him he was taking vacation.  He risked his heart to more pain by coming to Busan.  He couldn’t leave without accomplishing anything.

The day seemed to drag on longer than usual.  The celery had been restocked and so had the potatoes.  Now, as he piled on the last box of apples, Daehyun was quickly running out of things to keep his mind occupied and off of Yoo Youngjae.

Why had he come now?  After seven years?  Could something have happened to the others?  Daehyun felt a slither of panic before he quickly banished the idea and shook his head.  No… if something had happened, he would have heard of it on the news by now.  The others were still under the spotlight after all and there hadn’t been any bad news for any of them.  So then what?  Did something happen to Youngjae?

Daehyun paused as he pulled the last apple from the box.  Was Youngjae sick?  Was that the reason for the sudden visit?  Again, a slither of panic rushed through him.  No, no, he told himself, Youngjae didn’t look sick.  Maybe, it was an illness that wasn’t so obvious.  Could it be terminal?  Or maybe Youngjae wasn’t ill at all; maybe he came because someone in his family had fallen ill and he wanted to seek comfort from his old best friend?  How were the B.A.P families doing anyway?  Daehyun remembered the closeness they’d shared with each other’s parents and siblings.  Could something have happened to one of their families?

“If you want to eat it,” came a soft whisper from behind him, “I’ll cover for you.”

Daehyun blinked and turned around to face Lina, who was dead serious as she looked around the busy grocery story for their manager.  He hadn’t realized he’d been staring at the apple he’d still held in his hand but Lina must have spotted him and misunderstood.

He shook his head and gave her an embarrassed smile.  He pointed to his head to indicate that he had really been lost in thought and scratched his head as Lina understood and returned his smile.

“What were you thinking about?” Lina asked, setting down her empty box next to his and raising an eyebrow at him, “You had this frown on your face like the world was weighing on your shoulders.”

Daehyun shook his head again and gave her a little wave.  He shrugged and looked down at the apple in his hand.  He couldn’t shake his curiosity and, at the same time, he didn’t want to be curious.  He wanted to go back to the peaceful place he had worked so hard to find after the accident; he wanted nothing else to do with his glorious past.

“Oh my…” Lina whispered from beside him, her eyes looking past him at the front entrance where a small crowd had gathered.

Looking in the direction Lina was looking in, Daehyun’s eyes widened as Youngjae walked inside and scanned the store.  Several younger shoppers took out their phones immediately and began snapping pictures of him but Youngjae didn’t pay attention. 

For a brief moment, their eyes met and Daehyun could barely contain the emotion that filled his lungs.  Handing Lina the apple he’d been crushing in his hand, he his heels and quickly made a beeline for the back rooms.  He could hear the crowd squealing from behind him; several shoppers in front of his path had realized the commotion and had whipped out their phones as well.

Before he could make it to the swinging double doors, he felt a hand on his wrist pull him to a full stop.  He didn’t want to turn around but the strength around his wrist was too much for him to break free from.  Turning, he glared at Youngjae as the latter looked at him with a pleading expression.

“Talk to me,” Youngjae said in a barely audible whisper, “Don’t run.  I just want to talk.”  He glanced around at the circle that had drawn around them before pulling Daehyun through the double doors and back into the employee change rooms.

Luckily, the rooms were empty and, it seems, the shoppers had been prohibited from entering the back.  They had some peace and quiet… for now anyways.  I wouldn’t be long before the employees came buzzing in to see what was happening.

Daehyun shook his wrist free and pulled off his apron.  Marching to his designated locker, he opened it and threw it in with anger.  Not only was Youngjae disrupting his hard-earned peace, Youngjae was also disrupting his work.  He was fuming at the thought of his greasy manager finding out; just when he’d finally had a steady job too.  He could only imagine the glee on that fat man’s face as he handed Daehyun his bags and pointed him to the curb.   

“I know you’re angry that I showed up here,” Youngjae said as Daehyun shoved items into his backpack, “But you won’t see me if I wait at your house.  And I know you don’t want to see me-”

Daehyun threw him a dark look as if to say “Then why did you come?” before continuing to zip up his backpack and slam his locker shut.

“-but I need to talk to you,” Youngjae continued as if he didn’t see Daehyun’s glare.  “It’s been seven years, Daehyun-ah,” he said with a hoarse voice, “I shouldn’t have waited this long, I know.  I can’t turn back time but I’m…”  His voice cracked as he grabbed Daehyun’s arm again.  “I’m here now,” he said in a soft whisper, “And I’m begging you to give me another chance.”

Daehyun pulled on his arm, but with less vigour than before as he tried to avoid Youngjae’s eyes.  He could feel his own stinging as a familiar sense of emptiness ate at him from the inside out.  He wanted to yell at Youngjae, to scream at him and blame him for everything that wasn’t his fault.  He closed his eyes as tears flooded them and tried to block out the images of the accident.  He could still hear their careless chatter in the cab, and still smell the faux leather of the seats.  The memories renewed his strength and he tore away from Youngjae and made a mad dash for the back door. 

He didn’t make it.

Youngjae chased after him and pulled him into a tight hug.  He struggled but it was no use, the familiar scent of Youngjae flooded his nostrils and took him back beyond the accident to a time when they spent days and days together practicing their harmonies in the music room.  More than that, he remembered the way he used to feel around Youngjae, as if nothing in the world could stop them.  They had each other; they understood each other.  And, although unspoken, they had shared a special connection that they hadn’t been able to replicate with the others.

Now, as Youngjae whispered heartfelt apologies in his ears and as Youngjae’s tears wet his own shoulder, Daehyun felt lighter for the first time in seven years.  It was as if Youngjae’s presence suddenly helped him shoulder half the weight he had been carrying with him these past years.  Though he wanted to blame Youngjae for causing all of this, he found it impossible to hate Yoo Youngjae.  The truth was that he didn’t blame Youngjae for causing the accident; he blamed Youngjae for leaving him alone. 

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae murmured, burying in his face in the crook of Daehyun’s neck as the other did the same to him, “It’s my fault.  It’s all my fault.”

Daehyun looked up through teary eyes at  Youngjae, whose face had crumpled into deep anguish.  He watched as Youngjae’s eyes seemed to drift in and out of lifelessness as the latter remembered the day of the accident.

“If only I hadn’t asked you to come with me,” Youngjae said with a broken voice as he sank to the floor, “I should have known the roads would be icy.  It was a stupid decision… stupid, stupid, decision.”  He pressed the palm of his hands into his eyes and leaned with his legs huddled together against the lockers.

Daehyun knelt down and watched with wide eyes as Youngjae seemed to struggle with breathing.  He had long since became at peace with his voiceless state.  Though Youngjae’s sudden appearance had opened the wound a little, it was nothing he knew he couldn’t handle.  But Youngjae…

It was obvious Youngjae still lived the nightmare.  Daehyun could tell from the way Youngjae’s hands shook, or the way Youngjae’s words seemed both slurred and tight.  Even though he didn’t blame Youngjae for the accident, it was clear Youngjae didn’t think the same.

“I should have suffered the same as you,” Youngjae spat bitterly, his voice hoarse, “I would feel so much better about all of this-”

Daehyun grabbed Youngjae’s collar and pulled the latter to his face.  He gave Youngjae an angry frown before softening his features. 

Youngjae’s eyes widened as he stared at Daehyun.  The years didn’t change a thing between them; understanding flashed across his eyes as if he knew exactly what Daehyun was trying to convey.  “I’m sorry,” he said softly as Daehyun released him, “I… am sorry every single day of my life for what happened to you.”

Daehyun reached forward and brushed the tears from Youngjae’s cheeks.  He had been sorry too and it had nearly destroyed him.  Now, as he looked back at Youngjae’s face, he wondered just how he could really convey what he’d felt. 

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae murmured endlessly as fresh tears flowed from his face, “Forgive me.  I’m sorry, Daehyunnie… I’m-”

Daehyun leaned in and leaned his forehead against Youngjae’s.  Giving his head a small shake, he closed his eyes and cupped his hands around Youngjae’s cheeks.  The latter fell silent as his chest shook with the aftermath of crying. 

The two sat in silence and, after a while, a calm seemed to settle in the two of them.  Daehyun felt a gentle brush of lips on his cheek and arms circling his shoulders as Youngjae pulled him into another hug.

“I’ve been living life like I’d died that night,” Youngjae said softly, “I gave up everything because I didn’t deserve anything.”

Daehyun listened silently, his own chest aching with loss and yet filling with a hope he hadn’t felt since all those years ago.

“I hated my life,” Youngjae murmured, “And I was running away… seven years later I was still running away from it.  From you…”  He let out a shaky breath and wiped at his eyes.  “I can’t bring back the time I’ve already wasted,” he said, “But I won’t waste any more of it.”

Daehyun looked up as Youngjae stood and held out a hand for him to take. 

“Can we start over?” Youngjae asked, “Hi… I’m Yoo Youngjae.  I love music, sports, and your mom’s cooking.  If you’ll have me, I’d like to join you for dinner tonight.”

Daehyun blinked, surprise and subtle amusement playing on his face.  He looked at Youngjae’s outstretched hand.  He had waited for years for Youngjae to extend his hand.  Even if he hadn’t realized it, he had been waiting for the day Youngjae would stop running to turn around and finally reach out his hand. 

Finally… they could start over.

END

Author's notes:

Thank you for your patience!  Here's part 2!  I'm not completely satisfied with it but for now, it will do!