Hello Lovely, Loyal, Dear Readers!

I'm going to be updating a little faster now.  ^_^

Thank you for sticking with this story!   (*^_^)

Chapter 28

HimChan was in his element.

Being the people person he was, getting to work with someone new, someone who didn't know all of his old jokes already or just wasn't used to him or his ways, was always refreshing. And when it was someone as friendly and easy to train as Kevin, it made it even better.

"You're making those like an old pro already," HimChan complimented Kevin on the specialty coffees he had prepared.

"They're only basic designs," Kevin responded humbly.

"But most people don't do that well so quickly," HimChan smiled. "Don't these look good, JongUp?"

JongUp took a cursory look at the beverages before smiling slightly.

"Yeah," he said, mustering up as much enthusiasm as he could, which wasn't much.

It didn't escape HimChan's notice.

"Once you take these over to table five, I think they're ready to order at table eight," he told Kevin gently.

"Okay," the new employee smiled. Then he took the tray of beverages to the waiting customers.

"JunHong, keep an eye on everything for a minute, will you? JongUp, office," HimChan ordered as he marched through the double doors into the back.

When they got to the office, HimChan closed the door behind them. Then he JongUp.

"What's your problem?" he demanded.

"What are you talking about?" JongUp answered.

"You've had some sort of bee in your bonnet all morning. What the hell is wrong with you?" HimChan asked stepping closer to the younger employee.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Nothing?"

"That's right, nothing," JongUp said firmly.

"He's a new employee, JongUp. You have to encourage him. Do you want him to quit after his first day?"

"He doesn't need any encouragement from me, HimChan. He's getting more than enough from you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" HimChan asked taking another step towards JongUp.

JongUp just looked at him with his jaw set and his eyes narrowed.

"I'm talking to you," HimChan said in a low voice. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't you think you're being a little too helpful?" JongUp asked. "I mean, I know he's cute and all, but do you really think it's professional to slobber over the new employee so much on the first day? He might misunderstand. I wouldn't want you to be accused of ual harassment."

"ual . . . ? Are you kidding me?"

"And why are you calling me in here? JunHong was acting just the same as I was . . . normal, like we always do. It's you who's changed, fawning all over that guy . . . "

"I wasn't fawning . . . "

"If you're finished . . . "

"I'm not finished. Look, I don't know what's got into you today, but whatever it is, you'd better hurry up and get rid of it . . . " HimChan growled, taking another step towards JongUp.

"Or what . . . " JongUp answered, taking a step towards HimChan. Now, their faces were only centimetres away from one another. Each could feel the other's breath on his skin.

"Or . . . . . . . . or . . . . . . . . . " HimChan said as he looked into JongUp's eyes. He could feel his anger at the younger employee's insubordination begin to dissipate as it was replaced by an increasing feeling of . . . what exactly was he feeling . . . ?

The two just stood looking into each other's eyes, so close they could feel the heat coming off the other's body in palpable waves. Each seemed riveted to the spot, unable to either back away or move forward. They stood deadlocked in each other's presence, immovable, when the door opened.

"Sorry to barge in, but it's getting busy out there," JunHong said.

"Coming," HimChan said in a low voice as his eyes stayed engaged with JongUp's.

JunHong rushed back to the front. But his entrance had broken the spell that had held them fixed. With his eyes never leaving HimChan, JongUp began to back up.

"It's just not great for morale if you seem to be playing favourites, HimChan," JongUp said quietly, as he dropped his gaze.

"I'm not . . . " HimChan said exasperatedly. Then after taking a moment to really look at JongUp's expression, his voice softened, ". . . I'm sorry if it seemed that way, but I'm just training him, JongUp."

Did I just apologise? Without having done anything wrong? What's wrong with me?

"No, I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry for overreacting . . . and, I'm sorry if I was rude, boss," JongUp answered with a small half-smile. HimChan didn't respond to the apology, either accepting or rejecting it. They just stood looking at one another for another moment or two. HimChan just questioned the look in JongUp's eyes with his gaze. But he didn't know how to read it. It had somehow become undecipherable.

JongUp was the first to speak.

"I guess we'd better . . ."

"Yeah," HimChan said with a similar half-smile, "I guess we'd better . . . "

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                      *

That same morning, as HimChan and JongUp returned to the front of house at Runaway, JinYoung was just beginning to wake. He groaned weakly as he turned slowly in bed. Being awake was pain to him. When he was asleep, he could either be oblivious of the mess his life had become or dream of Mark. Both options were preferable to the misery of wakefulness.

He woke up in his own bed. At first, he had no idea how he'd got there. Hadn't he been sleeping in Mark's room? Then, it came back to him. His mother had come over. He had gone to his room, just to keep up appearances. He couldn't have his mother thinking that he had any reason to be in Mark's bed, especially since it was almost a shrine since he'd left. Changing the sheets and occasional cleaning was about all he did. Everything else was as Mark had left it. And that room contained all the precious artefacts of their life together: the pictures and the letters to name a couple.

This room was the room he didn't want to be in.

This room meant nothing to him. It had always only been a smokescreen to hide the true nature of his life with Mark from the world. So, not wanting to spend another minute there, he dragged himself to Mark's room and lay heavily on his bed.

JinYoung could feel weakness taking over his body. It was such a stark difference from how he'd felt with Mark in Seoul. Eating well, training, sleeping well, laughing, just being content in his life had filled him with so much energy, with so much life. It was such a difference to the way he was feeling now, it was astounding. How would he ever come back from this?

He knew he had to get up. He had to eat. He had a business to run. He had responsibilities. But somehow, the thought of facing any of that was beyond him at the moment. He just wanted to slip off back to sleep and dream of Mark and, under the present circumstances . . . if the truth be told . . . never wake up again. What a relief it would be, he thought to himself just to slip away while living some beautiful dream with the only person he would ever love, but would never have again.

How many days had it been?

He leaned over the bedside table, his phone and then checked it.

Messages and calls from all and sundry, but no word from Mark.

JinYoung knew that he'd have to contact him soon. Today. It wasn't fair keeping him in the dark like this. He deserved better than this kind of treatment, especially when he hadn't done anything wrong. All he'd done, all he'd ever done was to love JinYoung. Someone so clearly undeserving of his trust and devotion . . .

More fool him.

More fool him . . . JinYoung thought as he smiled with tears in his eyes.

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                           *

"Are you awake?" YoungJae breathed into JaeBum's hair. His handsome boyfriend's face was nestled into his neck as his even breath caressed YoungJae's skin.

JaeBum breathed in deeply before placing a gentle kiss on his neck.

"Yes, I'm awake," he said, kissing him twice more on the neck before looking up at YoungJae.

They kissed softly and slowly wrapped in each other's arms. Then they settled back into their sleeping positions, YoungJae placing a soft kiss on top of JaeBum's head.

"Don't kiss the top of my head," JaeBum complained, "I haven't washed my hair yet. It's gross."

"It's not gross. I didn't even notice," YoungJae assured him.

"Love is not only blind, but also seems to have no sense of taste, touch or smell."

YoungJae JaeBum's arm and shoulder gently. They had both been taking a nap together before what promised to be a long, late recording session later. They were fortunate that the combination of their voices seemed to be what the producers liked at the moment. It gave them the opportunity to work together often and since they didn't know how long that would keep up, but they were enjoying it while it lasted. Working together was great, but it was also great to be able to rest together, like they were doing right now.

"Have you been able to reach JinYoung-Hyung?" YoungJae asked.

"No, no luck. It always goes straight to voicemail."

"Maybe . . . maybe he lost his phone? Maybe it's laying somewhere out of battery power and that's why . . . " YoungJae suggested.

"Maybe . . . but he could have phoned Mark from a landline. He wouldn't necessarily phone me, but Mark?"

"I suppose," YoungJae agreed. "Have you tried phoning him at Escape?"

"I didn't want to bother him at work, but, I guess, maybe I should."

JaeBum rolled out of YoungJae's arms and reached for his phone. He propped himself up and dialled the number.

YoungJae nestled into his lover's arms, laying his head on his chest as JaeBum talked on the phone. He lazily traced letters on JaeBum's stomach, causing the other to have to mouth a soundless 'stop it' at him as he concentrated on listening to the person on the other end.

"He's not in," JaeBum said as he disconnected the call. "They didn't give me any more information than that."

"I wonder if he's okay," YoungJae said absently, once again tracing letters on JaeBum's stomach. "Maybe he's sick."

"Maybe . . . maybe . . . do you have his home number?"

YoungJae gave it to him and JaeBum called. No answer. But, he left a message.

"Hey it's me, JaeBum. How are you doing, JinYoung-ah? Are you okay? I've tried your cell phone a few times and just phoned your office and they said you won't be in today. I . . . I, well, just phone me back when you get a chance. Take care, JinYoung-ah."

JinYoung heard the message.

He knew that if JaeBum was calling him, sounding like that, he must be worried. And if he was worried, he could just imagine how Mark must be feeling. But it was the middle of Mark's shift, so he couldn't phone now. He'd have to phone him once he got off work.

He would definitely have to call him tonight.

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                      *

Evening fell quickly.

JinYoung spent most of the day sleeping. In between, he reread letters, looked at pictures and did his best to eat, but it was no use. Whatever little food he was able to force down just sped back up with a vengeance, leaving him feeling even more weakened than before. It was getting to the point that when he sat up, he started to see black and stars before his eyes. He knew he wasn't doing well, but no matter how much he tried, he wasn't having much success eating.

Now that it was dark, he just thought to stay in bed. Maybe he would feel well enough in the morning to try eating again.

As he lay there, he wondered why MiRa hadn't been phoning. It wasn't like her. Usually, when he was around, she'd come over every day and phone sometimes several times a day, but ever since they'd had their conversation, he'd heard nothing from her.

Maybe she's busy making wedding plans, he thought grimly. But surely she wouldn't start that before he'd visited her parents?

He heard a knock on the door.

It took JinYoung a very long time to get to the door and by the time he got there, he felt barely able to stand.

"JinYoung-ah!" a voice shouted as he stood shakily in the open doorway.

It was his father's.

His father caught his son up in his arms and held him.

"JinYoung-ah, tell appa . . . what's wrong?" he said into his son's hair.

But JinYoung said nothing.

Mr Pak helped JinYoung to the sofa and ran to get a pillow and some bedclothes from his room. Once he'd situated JinYoung comfortably on the sofa, and he had a good look at his son, he realized how terrible he looked. He has to eat something now, he decided.

So he went immediately to the kitchen and washed the fruit he'd brought; then he started peeling it.

He fed JinYoung a section of a small tangerine and he was able to keep it down. He slowly and carefully fed his son section after section, until he had eaten half.

"Good, JinYoung-ah . . . good," his father cooed as he sat next on the floor next to his son.

As for JinYoung, the sugar from the fruit had begun to revive him. He started feeling a little better.

His father looked at him tenderly.

"What's wrong? Tell appa . . . "

"I just think I may have picked up a stomach flu or something," JinYoung explained.

"Have you been able to eat at all?" his father asked.

"Not much, but I'm sure I'll be better now," JinYoung said, trying to muster a smile. He didn't want his father worrying.

But Mr Pak wasn't sure that that was all there was to it. He'd had almost nothing else on his mind all day, and he just couldn't shake certain feelings.

"JinYoung-ah," he said purposefully, "you know that you can tell me anything. If something's bothering you . . . you can tell me."

JinYoung looked into his father's eyes. He could see worry in them. And he looked so tired. JinYoung didn't like seeing him look so tired. It made him look like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"It's nothing, just a stomach . . . "

" . . . okay . . . okay," his father said quietly, patting his son's arm. "It's okay. It's only a stomach flu, then. It'll be better in a couple of days, right? They don't last long. Then you'll be healthy again," Mr Pak agreed. "But, there are some things I don't understand."

"What's that?" JinYoung asked nervously.

"Why you look so unhappy," Mr Pak said. "Why you went to Seoul so suddenly. Why your mother tells me that you're going to be married, but you don't look much like a happy groom-to-be."

"I am happy . . . I just don't feel well, Aboji . . . "

"Is Mark okay?" Mr Pak asked. "Was he okay when you saw him?"

Why is he asking about Mark suddenly?

"Yes, he's fine. Why?"

"I just thought maybe you were concerned for one of your friends. Is MiRa okay? Did she maybe change her mind and doesn't want to get married? Is that what's bothering you?"

"No, Aboji . . . she didn't change her mind . . ."

" . . . are you nervous about her parents? I don't think you should be nervous. They like you, don't they?"

"Yes, they like me," JinYoung said.

"Then there's no reason to be nervous, son," his father said squeezing his hand. "I must admit I felt a little hurt that you didn't tell me about your intention to marry." Then he added with a little sadness lacing his words, "that I had to hear it from your mother and not from you directly, made me realize how distant you must feel from me."

JinYoung moved to deny this but his father just went on. "It's okay . . . I guess it's only to be expected. To be honest, I used to feel a little jealous of your relationship with your mother. You two seemed so close. I actually felt a little left out over the years. The two people I loved most in the world being closer to each other than to me, the thought hurt. I know it was wrong of me, but I felt that sometimes," he confessed.

"Aboji . . . " JinYoung said quietly.

Mr Pak drew himself up proudly and his smile shone brightly as he contined. "Now, you're going to get married. I am so happy for you, JinYoung-ah. MiRa is a wonderful young woman. And she really loves you. I can see it every time she looks at you." He then chuckled to himself, "you're going to be a husband, and then, one day, a father. I can't believe it! I remember when I first saw you. You were so tiny . . . so new to the world. I just wanted to do everything for you to be happy. I wanted to work hard so you could have nice things. I wanted you to feel secure, so I maybe worked longer hours than I should have, but I just wanted the best for you. And when you have your children, you'll feel the same. But, I just want you to remember something." Here he looked steadily at JinYoung. "There's nothing more important you can give them than your time. That's what I didn't give you enough of, and I regret it. So, I hope you'll learn from your old appa's mistakes," he said, with tears beginning to collect in his eyes.

"Aboji . . . "

"I'm sorry, JinYoung-ah. I thought I was doing everything for the best. Anyway, even with all the mistakes I made, I couldn't have a better son. I'm sorry."

JinYoung couldn't stand to see the tears roll down his father's face. He hugged his father tightly.

"I'm sorry, Aboji. I've tried to be a good son, but . . . I failed."

Mr Pak held him by the shoulders and leaned his son away from him just far enough for him to look at his face. JinYoung now also had tears trailing down his face.

"What do you mean? You've done everything a father could expect and more." He took his son's face in his hands. "You always worked hard at school, you have a successful business and now you're going to marry a beautiful young woman who loves you. And one day," he said giving weight to every word that followed, "one day, you will be a father. You have never disappointed us. You've spent every day of your life making us proud. You haven't failed, JinYoung-ah. You've succeeded."

JinYoung suddenly felt the energy leave his body.

"I think I should go to bed now, Aboji," he said looking away.

"Yes . . . yes . . . it's getting late and you need your rest. I'll just carry these things to your room. Oh, and I'll bring the fruit too, just in case you want it later."

"Thank you, Aboji," JinYoung said as he got up and started to make his way across the room and down the hallway.

Mr Pak took the dish of fruit to the kitchen and covered it with a large bowl to protect it from the air. Then he gathered up the bed coverings and started walking in the direction of JinYoung's room.

But his son wasn't there.

"JinYoung-ah!" he called out.

But the only answer he got was silence.

He dropped the covers on the bed and began to search for his son. He looked in the bathroom and then walked further down the hall. The door to Mark's former room was open.

And then he saw it.

His son.

Sprawled awkwardly on the floor next to Mark's bed.

And blood was slowly forming a pool beside his head.

I will update again this week. Thanks for reading.