Ach, decided to update now. I think the last chapter offered too little and was too unsatisfying.

Chapter 18

The day had finally come.

Mark's café was open.

'Runaway'.

And it was starting out a bigger success than he'd expected.

This was largely due to the fact that Mark had correctly assessed that the university students would be his customer base. He'd posted flyers around the campus announcing student discounts. He was counting on volume to offset the lower prices and the strategy was working. Not only was the interior well-lit and comfortable, encouraging students to meet and some to even study there, he also appealed to the eco-friendly thinking of this segment of the population. He offered further discounts to customers who brought in reusable containers to be filled with their favourite beverage, but also offered disposable cups and lids made of biodegradable, compostable materials. As far as he could, he tried to keep plastic and other non-renewables out of the café preferring to work with machines and appliances made of glass and metals. This, combined with the decor, the revised and updated menu and the assortment of handsome servers, had the business taking off like a rocket!

And it didn't stop there. Once the buzz started, even local business people started coming in to pick up their cup of java before work and sending people there for coffee runs for mid-morning and mid-afternoon breaks.

Needless to say, when it came to work, Mark was happy.

And, thanks to Jackson, he was also finally feeling better at home.

He was now sleeping like a baby.

After the first training session with GaYeon, he thought he would never be able to walk again. Or use his arms. Or any part of his body, really, since everything, even parts he didn't know he had, seemed to hurt.

"I can't go back."

"Don't be a baby, Mark. It may hurt a little now, but . . . "

"Jackson, it hurts to breathe."

"You've got to keep it up. Your muscles are just stiff. The faster you get everything circulating, the better you'll feel. Anyway, how's your sleep problem?"

The truth was that ever since Mark had started training at Jackson and GaYeon's centre, the nightmares had stopped. But he didn't want to admit it because then Jackson would go on and on about how brilliant he was and he'd keep repeating it and probably laughing.

"They've stopped. Haven't they? . . . C'mon, Hyung admit it. You've been getting a good night's sleep every night, haven't you?"

Mark had, in fact, been sleeping very deeply indeed. Stiff, painful body or no stiff, painful body.

"Admit it . . . admit it . . . " he cajoled.

"Okay I admit it," Mark mumbled.

"Oh my stress . . . is GONE!" shouted Jackson, punctuating the line with his high-pitched laughter.

I knew it . . .

"Okay, that's it. I'll put your name in for 6:30 tomorrow evening."

"Jackson . . . "

"And, if you don't show. I'll come and get you myself. But then, I'll have to make you work twice as haaard," he sang.

"Okay, okay. I'll be there," Mark conceded.

"That's my reasonable Hyung," Jackson smiled.

So, between being happy in his work and working out three times a week at GaYeon and Jackson's training centre "CentreShock", Mark wasn't doing too badly. He'd even started making new friends among the staff.

Initially, Mark didn't think it was a good idea: it went against his business philosophy, but the truth was, no one could survive the onslaught that was HimChan, KwangHee and Key. As soon as they came in, as they were getting ready for their shifts, they would just start talking to him about their morning or about what happened last night, or looking at brochures or catalogues and asking his opinion on those or any other number of personal things, so they didn't give him much of a chance to keep his business philosophy in place.

Especially HimChan.

He seemed to have felt a certain comfortable chemistry with Mark right away because they quickly became close friends. In almost no time, he was confiding with him and often they would meet after their work shifts for a meal or just to linger over a drink and talk. And he was so talkative. But in a very entertaining way. Sometimes, all of what he said didn't amount to very much if you were to sum it up, but with Kim HimChan the best part was not actually the content of his conversation, but the way in which he expressed himself: the goal was often the journey. He was so entertaining. Mark found he could watch him and listen to him for hours and never get bored. So he ended up spending a lot of time with his entertaining, chatty morning manager.

This was certainly not what he'd expected.

He had to face it. The café business was altogether much different to running a hotel/spa. At Escape, people expected a certain amount of distance: distance between employee and customer; distance between employee and boss; everybody dressed either in a business suit or a uniform with always an air of detachment between them. This was what it meant to be professional in the hotel business.

But the café was completely different.

So, before he knew it, he was not only regularly hanging out with his old friends from university, he was making new friends at the café.

Friends like Kim HimChan.

Whether or not that was a good idea, remained to be seen, but at the moment, his life was finally starting, bit by bit, to be fun again.

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

After her run-in with Mark, MiRa had started visiting JinYoung on a daily basis.

At first, he felt a mixture of gratitude—because her company eased his loneliness—and resentment—when he would remember that her presence had partly been the cause of his loneliness. But he couldn't blame her really: she had no idea about the truth of what had been between Mark and him, so how could he fault her for interfering?

She would come over in the evenings after he'd had a hard day at work, and cook or bring food for him. They would talk about how their days had gone and whenever he could swing it and wasn't too tired, they would work on songs together or just hang out having fun, singing carelessly in a karaoke room: on one occasion, even with their parents.

With every day that passed, she felt herself and JinYoung getting closer and closer in every way.

Except romantically.

No matter how much time they spent together, he would never touch her. Sometimes, they would touch inadvertently, shoulders for example while they sat next to each other, but there was never any intentional touching with romantic intent coming from his side.

I know he said he's a slow mover, but this is ridiculous.

One evening, while they were relaxing at JinYoung's watching a movie, she turned and looked at him as they sat in the darkened room.

"Oppa . . . "

"Hm . . . " he answered, still looking at the screen.

"Oppa!" she cried in exasperation.

" Yes . . . yes . . . what is it?" he asked turning toward her.

Their faces, now close together presented the perfect opportunity.

MiRa leaned forward to kiss him.

But JinYoung moved away.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"What am I doing? What are you doing? We have been seeing each other for so long now. I've been seeing you every day for almost two months and you ask me that? We've even spent time with each others' parents. Why do you think it would be strange to kiss me?"

"I already told you that . . . "

" . . . I know, you're a slow-mover. But there has to be more to it than that! Don't you see that it doesn't make any sense. Unless . . . " she said sadly, "there's someone else you like. Is there someone you like at work, Oppa and you're just afraid to tell me?"

"No, nothing like that," he answered.

"Then, why? You said you liked me. We get along well. You said you see me as a woman . . . you think I'm pretty. So what is it, Oppa?"

Mark . . .

He didn't answer.

"Just close your eyes."

"MiRa . . . "

"Just close your eyes and if you don't like it, we can stop. But just give it a chance. Please?"

"MiRa . . . "

"Maybe you're just afraid. Maybe . . . I don't know, but we can try, can't we? You know how I feel about you. Can't you try to see if you can feel that way about me, too?"

JinYoung looked at her face. She was truly lovely.  She had a natural beauty that made her very alluring.

When other girls were going to have their faces changed, she looked at her own eyes and decided that although that shape was no longer 'in', to her they looked beautiful and from that moment on, she steadfastly refused all her mother's attempts at trying to get her to change them. She'd told him that, for years, her mother hadn't given up. She was a tenacious woman, but so, she was to discover, was MiRa.

He marvelled at her. He also had a tenacious mother, but JinYoung had given up fighting her. In fact, he didn't want to fight her. He wanted everything to be between them as it had been when he was younger. He wanted them to just agree on everything like before. No discussions. No arguments. No bad feelings.

They used to understand each other and that was such a nice feeling! But everything had changed. And now . . .

Now there was another woman with whom he wanted to agree. He wanted them to get along. He didn't want to make waves, or have conflicts. MiRa, that tenacious young woman, sat before him with love and longing in her eyes. And she wanted him.

And, he could see, in those eyes, that once she was sure they really loved each other, she would always stay with him; she would never leave him; she would never let him go.

So, JinYoung, with no further excuses to offer, slowly closed his eyes.

But when he did, he saw the face that was in his mind every night before he fell asleep and every morning when he woke up.

Mark's.

He felt the softness of lips pressed against his.

The lips were tender pressing a long, sweet kiss against his own.

JinYoung's heart wrenched as he felt, once again, how much he missed and longed for  Mark.

But Mark left him and was never coming back. He had to accept that.

And what was losing Mark for, if JinYoung only ended up rejecting MiRa? What would all this have been for?

'You're going to have to think about how you feel about MiRa.'

'You two seem to get along really well, so I guess if . . . if  you have to marry someone . . .'

'I saw your future . . . '

He could hear Mark's voice in his head.

He could feel lips pressed against his and he had longed for that feeling he'd felt with Mark for so many nights, so many days, that. . .

. . . before he knew it, he was kissing her back.

His arms went around her waist as he held her tightly against him. The picture of Mark in his head became more and more vivid as he continued to kiss her.

His kisses became almost violent as he squeezed his eyes shut trying to rid himself of the picture of Mark that continued to invade his mind.

Mark isn't coming back. I have to accept that.

He isn't coming back . . .

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

That night, after MiRa had gone home, JinYoung opened the door to Mark's bedroom, ran across the room and dove face first into Mark's bed. He hadn't slept there since Mark left, and the sheets were as he had left them. Changing them was something JinYoung couldn't bring himself to do. To do so would be to throw away the last faint trace of Mark's scent, or Mark's warmth, of Mark himself, and there was no way he felt he could do that.

Mark . . . MARK! . . . he cried inwardly, wrapping himself up in his sheets and holding his pillow tightly against his body.

I tried. Do you know that? Did you feel me trying?

Will I feel it when you touch someone else? when you kiss them, like I kissed her? Do you hate me now?

You left me. You said you would always love me and then you left me. Why can't I just forget you? Why do I have to love you so much?

People break up all the time, for all kinds of reasons. And they move on. You moved on.

So, why can't I just move on from you?

A hopeless romantic, JinYoung looked in the direction of the bedroom door, hoping he would see Mark, just standing there. Smiling. Shaking his head. Saying something like 'my Jinnie is so silly. How could you think I could ever leave you?' Then he would walk in, but before he was even halfway across the room, JinYoung would already have leapt out of the bed and into his arms.

Mumbled words of apology would emerge in fractured snatches as they kissed and kissed, pressed against each other so tightly that there was not even a modicum of space between them.

But Mark wasn't there.

You're never coming back, are you?

My Mark, can you feel me asking?

I thought about you, did you know that? I thought about what you said. I thought about how happy my parents would be. I thought about how much she must love me to do what she did. It would be so easy to love her, right? It should be.

So, why can't I?

Why can't I?

Early the next morning JinYoung finally performed the task he had been avoiding.

But it was truly over now and he knew it.

It was time.

He slid slowly out of the bed onto the floor.

Then he knelt beside it for one brief moment, as if worshipping at their altar for one last time.

Then he stood and, beginning with the pillowcase, began finally, to undress the bed.

Feeling a little down because someone decided to stop reading this story.

I've read very long chaptered fics that were updated very infrequently over the course of an entire year, so I just didn't imagine that anyone would give up on mine as long as I updated frequently and kept the story rolling ahead.

Also, I didn't tag this as 'angst' because I didn't think it was. Maybe that's because I already know the whole story in advance. Was I mistaken?

Anyway, for those of you who are sticking around. Thank you.

I'll try to update again soon.