Of course, the phone rings when Sanghyuk just starts to drift to sleep.

He’s almost completely taken by tiredness but he wakes up again, confused, heart startled from the noise. , seriously every single damn time we manage to catch a break, Hongbin thinks as he waves Sanghyuk back down, sighs internally, and goes to pick up the phone. The universe has got to stop with its circus tricks.

“Hello?”                                                                    

“Hello.” It’s a woman’s voice, which is surprising. Hardly anyone calls the landline anymore, much less someone not his mother. Hongbin rubs his hand across his forehead. “Is this – Is this Lee Hongbin?”

“Yep, you’ve got the right number.”

There’s a pause, a silence.

“My name is Kim Jisoo. I’m – Is Han Sanghyuk in?”

Hongbin stuns and a surge of anger briefly rises. “How did you get this number?”

“I used to teach him.”         

“S – Sorry?” Hongbin breathes incredulously.  

“I taught Sanghyuk at the orphanage in Daejeon,” She explains. “Sanghyuk is from Daejeon. He was my student.”

Hongbin doesn’t know what to say. He looks at Sanghyuk taking a sip of water from on the couch and Sanghyuk looks back with a flat, half-wistful expression.

“I know you don’t – I shouldn’t have called so abruptly, I know it’s hard to understand. But the first two years all I did was look for him. So you have to – you have to understand. I I’ve spent a whole decade blaming myself, I just need to know he’s alright –”

“He’s alright.” Hongbin says, coming back into himself. “He’s with me and he’s fine.”           

He knows it’s not what she wants to hear, but it has to be enough for now. There’s too much to process right now; and secretly this is something he was always afraid of. The possibility of Sanghyuk going back to his previous life, to the people that were good, and not wanting Hongbin anymore. He’s had so many sleepless nights over this… this irrational worry, but now it’s true. It’s true and it’s real and it’s here. Hongbin has tried to make this house a home for him; but it might never be one. Not if Sanghyuk knows in his heart of hearts that it will never be one.                                                                                                  

“Thank God, I’ve been so worried – I saw the broadcast. The press conference, and – Is there anything I can do for him? Anything I can –”

“I’m sorry. I know you’re anxious, but It’s been a really, really hard week,” Hongbin says empathetically. “I know he looked like he was coping at the conference but – things are just not as simple as that. I wish things were different, but I’m not quite sure he’s up for meeting anyone new right now.”

“But is there any way I could see him? Please – He’ll recognize me. I promise. Ask him about Minhyun. I’ve just been looking for him for so long, I hope you understand.”

She has the kind of voice that just sounds tired; like there’s nothing there except emptiness, even though there’s still a hint of a well jaded charisma there. Hongbin can almost hear himself in it and it breaks his heart like the dull thud of a family door shutting in your face.

So he relents, as he always does. “Okay, you know what? Come up to my office in Seoul and ask for me at the front desk. I’ll be in on Thursday and we’ll see if we can work something out.”

“Thank you.” Jisoo says, breathing like she can’t believe it. “I’ll be there first thing.”       

“For now I’ll make sure to tell Sanghyuk that you called–”                 

“Can you do me a favour?”                                                          

“Y – Yeah, sure,” Hongbin stutters, feeling like a faceless voice over the phone has suddenly robbed him of his dominance over the conversation. Jisoo has a strong charm. “What is it?”

“Tell him that I’m sorry.” Jisoo takes a breath and neither of them speaks. “Tell him… Tell him that Minhyun is doing well. He’s – um – He’s trying to get into Seoul National for Psychology, we’re both still in Daejeon, and he’s doing really well in school. He’s dating a really nice girl – He misses Sanghyuk. A lot. Still. I – yeah. Yeah. That’s it. I might talk your ear off if I don’t stop now.”

It’s an attempt at humour so Hongbin gives a polite laugh because he knows that Jisoo needs it.

“I’ll be sure to tell him.” Hongbin assures. “You have a good night, okay? I’ll see you on Thursday.”

As he hangs up the phone, he feels a whirl storm of conflict in his heart. As much as he thinks everyone in the world should get to meet somebody as amazing as Hyuk, he also doesn’t think that there’s anyone in the world who deserves that. Meeting Sanghyuk was a pure of luck and he’s not ready to let that go.

(What if he prefers Minhyun – whoever he is? What if he goes back to Daejeon and realize he always belonged there? Never here? What if – what if Hongbin can’t have him anymore?)

“Who was that, hyung?” Sanghyuk asks, pulling a blanket that smells like Hongbin over his shoulders. There’s still an overload of sensation that feels like barbed wire on his skin but he can feel it ebbing away.

“It’s a lady called Jisoo?” Hongbin pauses. “Any idea who she is?”      

Sanghyuk shakes his head and for a tiny moment Hongbin holds out the hope that maybe it was a prank call. Maybe – Maybe, parallel universes collided for a brief second and snapped back into place. Just a mistake, just a harmless prank of the universe.

“She said she used to teach you at the orphanage.”                      

Then Sanghyuk doesn’t answer for a long time. Not because he doesn’t know; but because he does. In the core of his being, in the residue of his childhood tucked away in his heart. He knows who she is – she’s the faceless teacher in his dreams, she’s the one voice in his head that has always reminded him of the capacity of life to be… good, despite how bad things are. In the dust of his soul, she turns around and smiles at him.

But Hongbin is about to speak when Sanghyuk says, “I don’t want to see her, hyung.”

Sanghyuk must be perfect to her right now. That young boy who was a little bit too wild, but who still had a pure heart. He doesn’t want to destroy that image of himself. He wants to stay perfect in her mind for as long as he can – for as long as he’s allowed to. At least in the dream, when she turns around, she gets to see someone deserving of love. If she sees him now, all she might see is a nervous shell, empty of what he used to be.

“Well, you don’t have to meet her,” Hongbin says, crouching down next to him. “At least not until you’re ready.”

That teacher was almost half his life before he was abducted so he hopes that he’ll be ready, one day. He has tried to forget her – on some days he knows that he’s the one who always stops the dream before he gets to see it to the end, because he doesn’t want to see her. It hurts too bad.

He has tried to forget her; but she has always been there. The guardian angel, the saving grace, the lighthouse hidden in the darkest recesses of his fear.

***                                                                                                            

Jaehwan runs until he can’t anymore. His feet lose all feeling and his lungs scream. He takes a bus in a loop until the driver looks at him weird and he can’t stand it anymore; the pressing burden of judgement. He walks home and thinks and thinks until he’s sure his existence itself is going to become a thought.

Then he comes to an epiphany. A thought never dies, no matter how much people don’t want it to exist.  

He looks at himself in the mirror and hates it so much. He throws all his booze away.

***

Nakhun comes over after a twenty hour shift and gives him the all clear. His ribs are fine, just badly bruised. Nakhun is surprised that he hadn’t passed out during the choking, given the state of his neck – but other than that he just prescribes Sanghyuk bedrest (after copious amounts of nagging and chiding, to which Sanghyuk just takes in his stride).

So instead of leaving the house, Minki and Jaehwan come to Sanghyuk to prep for the trial, which makes him feel less safe than if he were leaving the house by himself everyday. Hongbin notices everything that is different – Jaehwan is so quiet with Sanghyuk now that it’s unnerving. The first few hours, the lack of insults thrown at Sanghyuk is a respite. But then Hongbin realizes that it’s more like any conversation between them has frozen over. Sanghyuk doesn’t look at Jaehwan even though eye contact is something they’ve been working on the past few weeks; and Jaehwan, even more so than Sanghyuk, tries to disappear into himself.

But the change in Sanghyuk is even more obvious when Jaehwan leaves.

He tucks back tightly the chair that Jaehwan uses into the dining table, wipes all the chairs down with a cloth, and obsessively clean any cups that they use. Sanghyuk has always taken a long time with chores, so concerned with doing things perfectly, but with stuff that Jaehwan uses he seems to take almost twice as long.  Hongbin sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night finding Sanghyuk checking all the locks in the apartment.

At first Hongbin attributes it to anxiety over the trial. He has noticed reporters sleuthing around the vicinity, and he’s more than sure Sanghyuk has noticed them too. But after a while, things don’t check out anymore.

Sanghyuk is only ever like this on the days that Jaehwan comes over: obsessively clean around the house, unnecessarily worried about security, and having an especially hard time trying to concentrate on anything at all. He tries to hide it, but hiding it seems to make the anxiety even worse.

“Do you not like Jaehwan?” Hongbin asks one day, and Sanghyuk flinches.

Sanghyuk was hoping he would be able to dodge it until the whole trial is over and he doesn’t have to see Jaehwan ever again. But the whole apartment smells like Jaehwan – he doesn’t know where is safe anymore; all his spaces seem to have an expectation, and have therefore become useless. Everything is going back to day one all over again. He was getting better, but as usual, everything around him will always move faster that he ever can.

(This is where Jaehwan hyung likes to sit. Jaehwan hyung uses this cup. We have to make sure this cup is clean the next time he’s over or else he might get mad if he doesn’t get to use it. Jaehwan hyung left his comb here, we have to safe-keep it. Jaehwan hyung – Jaehwan hyung –)

In the hours when Jaehwan finally leaves the house, this feeling of violation and utter intrusion feels so heavy that Sanghyuk sometimes can’t even bring himself to sit down on the floor. So he busies himself with cleaning – with… with making sure he can sleep without the fear of Jaehwan breaking in and finishing what he failed to finish.

“No,” Sanghyuk replies. “I’m just – scared. I guess. Of him.”            

“Can I do anything to help?” Hongbin asks good naturedly, handing over a plate for Sanghyuk to wipe dry.

Sanghyuk shakes his head. And it’s scary because it’s true.