“When he shall die,

Take him and cut him into little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun”

-Romeo and Juliet

    Today marked a special day for Byunghun.

    Today had been a week since he had met Chanhee.

    Today, had been the seventh day in a row he had met up with Chanhee. Seven days of seeing his bright smile, and feeling his own lips quirk up into an inerasable smile. Seven days of casual talks of nothings, of listening to the soft sound of Chanhee’s laughter, and occasionally his own. Seven days of being noticed. To commemorate this honorable feat, the chestnut haired boy promised him a special surprise.

    Today, Byunghun seemed to push himself through the crowd, the current of the wave of humans moving slow and thick, like the breeze in the summer sky. It was a sticky sweet, like ripe peach nectar rolling down one’s chin. But somehow, he had something else on his mind, that wouldn’t allow him to savor this lazy weather.

    He all but skittered through to the park he was once before, to only find it empty. His heart lurched. Was he simply dreaming the day before? He shook his head. He cannot dream. He simply could not afford it. He rustled to the swing set, the seat burning the back pockets of his pants and scorching his bottom. He stared down at his lap, digging his feet in a pile of woodchips, as if sheltering them, and he waited.

    He waited, as one waits in movies, patiently, steadily, but surely.

    But he was no actor.

    He was simply drowning himself in his own pretty, little lies that hopefully, Chanhee would come.

    Hopefully, Chanhee would remember.

    “Hey! Sorry I’m late!” a familiar voice called out, panting. The blonde boy lifted his head to find the chestnut haired boy sprinting towards him, hair bouncing, until he was in front of him. His thin chest heaved as band of sweat around his forehead rolled down. He had hoodie over his designer-print shirt, and he tugged on the sleeve to used as a rag to wipe the sweat off his face. After he regained his breath, he still managed to give his usual smirk. “Guess these shoes are good for something, huh?” he all-but bragged, bending down to brush the nonexistent dirt off his shoes. The latter grinned. “But, you know, the later the better.” he added, wiping his hands on his pants. He flipped his hair.

    “What do you mean?” Byunghun asked.

    “I promised I had a surprise for you, didn’t I?” he winked--that wink!--causing Byunghun’s face to feel as if it exploded into flames. Chanhee, who was extremely pleased at this feat, smiled smugly.

    “Oh please, Byunghun, get your head out of the gutter. I have a little more class than that,” he huffed, which made the blonde blush even harder. “Come with me,” he said, grabbing the younger’s wrist and pulling him upwards. Another euphoric rush pumped through his veins as he could feel the warmth of the chestnut haired boy’s palm simmer through his hand to the core of his stomach. Before the shorter knew it, Chanhee was up and running once again, as if he was already recharged. They were running northwestward, towards the hill that was a few meters away.

    “Chan--hee! Slow down! Can’t--keep--” Byunghun gasped in between breaths. Chanhee tilted his head back, his fringe falling to the sides of his face, his eyes squeezes tight as he let out a full-out laugh, a pure, not held-back one, gleeful, like an infant. It sent butterflies in the shorter’s stomach aflight.

Chanhee pulled Byunghun’s slipping hand closer, sliding his fingers in between the crevices of the latter and interlacing their fingers. He shut them tight against the back of the boy’s hands. Byunghun, who could already hear his heart pounding in his ears, could hear it beat at least five times faster. It released the adrenaline in Byunghun’s veins as he could feel his legs grow lighter, smiling so hard that his cheeks became sore as they ran up the hill. Their laughter arose from the bottom of their stomachs to the tops of their lungs, sounds of childish nonsense, pure innocence, like the essence of summer.

    When they had made their way to the top, Byunghun could feel Chanhee’s grip on his hand loosen as his own. He freed their hands as Byunghun plopped to the ground, criss-crossing his legs and crossing his arms. Chanhee, whose back was towards him, turned to glance at the sitting boy.

    “You ready for your surprise?” he smirked. The boy nodded.

Chanhee spun on his heel to face him, his arms flying behind his back. “Stand up, and close your eyes.” The blonde boy obliged, standing a foot away from him. “Hold out your palms,” he commanded, and slowly he put out his hands. He felt something cylindrical and heavy being placed in his grasp, as he gently squeezed it, its coldness seeping into his fingertips.

    “What is it?” Byunghun asked.

    “Open your eyes.” Chanhee said, and before him, laid an old hand telescope. The shorter awed at the sight of it, bringing it up to eye-level to examine it, his fingertips tracing over every square inch of the surface. The metal was rough and slightly rusty, as half of the portion was wood, banded with faded gold rings.

    “This is…” he began, breathlessly.

    “A little old, sure, but it was my grandfather’s.” the chestnut haired boy began. “You like the sky, don’t you? Give it a shot. But it’s antique, so don’t dent it,” he warned him.

    “How do I--?” Byunghun questioned. Chanhee let out an exaggerated sigh.

    “To have thought you were smart, too.” he muttered. He went behind the shorter boy, looking over his shoulder, and wrapping his arms around him, from behind. Byunghun’s eyes widened, his body feeling even hotter in the barely breezy summer night. Chanhee’s hands overlapped Byunghun’s own. “Now, you expand it like this,” Chanhee’s grasp guided him as he pulled the telescope to its full length in one sleek, graceful motion. “Put this end to your eye, hold it in such position,” he explained, holding Byunghun’s stick-thin arms up into the precise position that aligned his sight to the stars. He moved the device around to follow his gaze. He could see the diamonds that floated in the smooth tar coated sky, barely burnt ash black under the summer sky.

    “It’s…It’s beautiful.” he whispered, his voice dissolving into the summer sky. “Take a look.” He handed over the telescope to the taller boy, who held it up to his eye. Byunghun stood behind him, his chest barely brushing his upper back. Somewhere, he hoped that Chanhee could not have felt the erratic beating of his heart in that split second.

    “We’re lucky we got a clear view tonight, huh? Goddamn pollution always fogs up the sky. Tonight, the sky is a bit clearer.” He said. “You know,” he continued, in a softer voice, one that Byunghun almost had to strain his ears to hear. “A part of me falls in love over and over again when I look up at the stars. Seeing them time after time, they’re beautiful.” He put down the telescope, awing at the marvelous spectacle that was before him, his head tilted back entirely. Byunghun could not comprehend why, but Byunghun almost indirectly, unknowingly, and unintentionally, fell in love with Chanhee’s passion, and the way his eyes lit up when Chanhee was discussing this. The shorter boy gazed at the silhouette of the chestnut boy’s profile as he intently watched the way his lips moved. It almost paralyzed him, entranced him to see Chanhee so caught up in the moment as he was now.

    “'When he shall die,' ” Byunghun whispered, his words soft but steady. “'Take him and cut him into little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine, that all the world will be in love with the night, and pay not worship to the garish sun.'” he recited, the words flowing so naturally, recalling them as if he was greeting an old friend. Chanhee snapped his head to look at the shorter.

    “What does that mean?” he asked. The boy blushed so bright, he was sure the chestnut haired-elder would see.

    “It’s nothing. I was just reciting a line from a play.” The shorter could see the shadow of Chanhee’s nose scrunch in bemusement.

    “Play?” he echoed.

    “Yes. A play far before your time.” He added. Chanhee huffed and looked back at the sky.

    “Whatever.” he lifted the telescope back up to his eye and continued to watch the starry night sky. “You know what ? There are only sparse nights like these that we can actually see the stars. But, I guess it’s reassuring to know that they’ll always be there, though, even if we can’t see them. I’d be willing to wait, and forget what they’d look like, and then see them and fall in love with them over and over again.”

    “But stars can’t feel anything. They’re just stars.” Byunghun stated candidly.

    “You just love ruining the damn mood, don’t you?” Chanhee said, shaking his head. “I don’t give a whether they love me back or not. It doesn’t matter, y’know, when I get to see them. When you really love something, once you have it, even for just a moment, you forget about everything else in the world, and suddenly tomorrow doesn’t matter anymore. Just now, and what you can do with the present.” he explained. He put down the telescope, sighing. “, I really am gonna miss this, though. Who knows when the next time I’ll be able to stay up all night with you will be,” he said rather coquettishly, and Byunghun could already tell, even in the splotchy darkness, that Chanhee had winked at him. Naturally, the taller got the reaction he anticipated--a tomato red Byunghun within five seconds flat. He let out another laugh, his eyes forming crescents as he clutched his stomach. “You act like a Japanese school girl,” he muttered, before closing the telescope and returning it to its minimal size. He slipped in his hoodie pocket before nudging the shorter. “I’ve got to head off. I need my beauty rest, you know?” he said, as he did his trademark hair flip. “Will you be okay here?”

    “Of course.” he reassured him. “Good night.”

    “Night!” he called out, before waving off.

    Byunghun laid back on the sticky grass, its soft springiness acting as a mattress under his body. Shutting his eyes, he whispered Chanhee’s name, over and over again, in hopes that it would reach the heavens, and make its way up to the stars.