I walked into work that day with my usual attire— a classic black suit, my work keys strung in a metal ring around my thumb, black dress shoes, and a blue drawstring bag.

It was the fifth time that week I had come to work. The manager, in a way very unlike managerial services nowadays, told me to go home. Said that I was around too much.

“Twelve hour shifts for the past five days? Lee Chanhee, you need to go home and rest. What’s up with you?”

I couldn’t exactly tell him.

How could I explain that I needed an escape from a reality I didn’t want to live in anymore? How could I explain that I was heartbroken, in more ways than one, and didn’t want to give myself time to dwell upon it? How could I explain how much a single loss had impacted all of us, like a domino effect? How could I explain that I was in love with a boy who had turned to stone?

“Don’t worry, boss. I feel great, and ready to work. More hours means more pay. My mother could use the money.”

Another lie. My parents were well off, they didn’t need some measly paycheck from their failure of a son.

I saw a reluctant nod, and a wave of dismissal. I gladly obliged.

In the staff locker room, I bumped into my familiar black-haired friend.

“Chanhee, back at work again?” Jonghyun asked, buttoning up his suit jacket. I just nodded with a smile.

“Byunghun is scheduled to work today.”

I couldn’t help the dangerous rush of anxiety and excitement. Maybe today would be different. Maybe today he would at least look at me. Maybe today he wouldn’t freeze up whenever I made contact with him. Maybe today he would be different.

“I know. I haven’t seen him since last week.” I say, my heart fluttering in synchronization with my stomach churns. I yearned for him so badly I could feel it in every inch of my body, every breath I took, every breath I exhaled. I yearned to be touched by him, to be protected by him. To see his smile, to hear his laugh, to hear him call my name. It had been so long since he had done any of that.

“Speak of the devil.” Jonghyun mutters, quickly finishing up and looks over at me, briefly touching my forearm. “I’m going to be outside. You and I are reception today.”

I nod, pumped with so much adrenaline that I wasn’t quite sure what he had said, I just wanted to get rid of him. I wanted to be alone with my Byunghun.

True to Jonghyun’s words, he came strolling in, looking absolutely breathtaking in his white suit and black tie. His locker was next to mine, a choice made before the accident. He hadn’t moved it yet, and that gave me hope.

“Good morning, Byunghun.”

I got a nod. A full nod. That was more than last time, and I could barely contain my excitement.

“How are you?”

Byunghun opened his locker, calmly placing his bag inside. “Good.”

It wasn’t like him to return the question to me. I didn’t mind.

“Are you ready for work? What station are you at?”

There was a pause before his reply. As if it was an afterthought. I didn’t mind. I was glad I was getting something; something was better than nothing. Even hearing his voice was music to my ears.

“Door.”

But before I could converse with him any further, he slid his phone into his pocket, shut his locker, and walked out without another word.

I should have been disappointed.

I was happy.

That was more than I got out of him for a while. He was talking. He was acknowledging me. That was more than I could ever ask for.

-

“Hi, I’d like to check in.”

I put on as much of a smile as I could muster, looking up at the man standing alongside a woman, presumably his wife, and three children lagging behind them. “Sure, could I get a last name?”

This was protocol. Before we got assigned our first shift, we were required to memorize a few scripts. The first was for when guests checked in. The second was for when guests wanted to make reservations. The third was for when we were answering phones. The fourth was for when we were at the door, greeting guests. It was okay to deviate from the script a little, but the same context had to remain. We had to smile, appear unmoved no matter what the situation, and remain professional.

I got the required last name and asked the guests to wait a moment as I walked to the back, to the large filing cabinets. This system was strange—they used both paper and technology. It was more work for the employees, having to learn how both systems worked. As I was searching through the alphabetical list of folders for the last name I was given, my eyes drifted to the front of the hotel, where Byunghun was.

He was smiling. He was greeting guests. He was shaking hands, bowing. He was laughing.

I found it unfair. I was envious. Those strangers had no idea what they were getting, how precious each look that he gave, each word that came out of his mouth, each smile that radiated off his features, was. There were people like me, people that have known him for three years, that were struggling to even get a response from him.

It was sad to think that those strangers were of a higher priority than I was.

For the longest time, I was his first.

I managed to tear my eyes away, picking up the correct folder and bringing it back to the front desk.

It had become routine for me, this process. I could do it without fully putting my head into my actions. I typed, read, repeated certain information. I activated the designated two key cards, placed them into a paper pocket, handed them to the guests.

The cycle repeated until it was time for my lunch break. After lunch, some shifts changed. I was met by the news from Jonghyun himself that he was scheduled to do door for the rest of the day, and Byunghun was to take his place in reception. I was, naturally, ecstatic.

Lunch breaks were thirty minutes. During that time, Byunghun never ate. He finished work early, at two. I know this because up to six months ago, I would go with him at two every work day to eat lunch with him. Jonghyun or Changhyun usually took my place for a while until I returned.

During the assigned breaks, Byunghun and I would just hang out, talk. Kiss. Feel each other’s presence.

That hasn’t happened for a while now.

This break found Byunghun in the staff room, a thick package of papers in his hand. I recognized it—the scripts that each employee were given. He was reviewing it. Most likely, he was finding an excuse to not talk to me. I hoped that that wasn’t the case.

“Byunghun.”

He didn’t even look up. His head dipped in the slightest, as if to substitute for a verbal greeting.

“You know that by heart, idiot. Why are you reading it again?” I laughed. I only wanted to lighten the mood.

He didn’t look too amused.

“Don’t have anything better to do.”

Ouch.

“Do you want to talk? We could go get coffee, like we used to. I could get you something to eat, in case you’re hungry. Or we could just stay here. I could help you with the scripts, if you aren’t confident in th—”

“Chanhee.”

Hearing my name roll of his tongue like that was bliss. It had been so long since he said my name, since he addressed me. My heart beats quickened. My head spun. How did he have this much of an effect on me?

“Calm down.”

He was right. I wasn’t usually like this. I didn’t bring up the past around him, because I knew how much he hated it. I didn’t want him to hate my words, and I didn’t want to give him any reason to hate me. Today was different. Today he gave me hope that it wouldn’t be like every other day in which I was coldly ignored or avoided.

I should have been grateful with what was given to me. It was foolish of me to hope for more.

“Do you want me to leave?” I ask, in a hushed tone. I was afraid of his answer. I didn’t want him to say what I thought he was going to say, which would have been ‘yes’. I wanted him to want me again. I wanted him to yearn for me like I did for him.

His answer was genuinely surprising, and left me breathless.

“Stay here. Just stop rambling.”

-

Byunghun’s story was a hard one. Only a handful of the employees here, the few who were friends with him and I knew about what had happened.

He wasn’t one to boast around his grievances and loses. He hated pity.

Six months ago, his parents had passed in a fatal car crash. They were people Byunghun truly loved. He was the pride and joy of his kind-hearted mother, and the legacy of his intelligent, gentle father.

He valued family more than anything else. And I could respect that.

He always followed curfew. He never did anything that could displease them, although little could. He spoke so highly of them.

Why do all the bad things happen to the best people?

After the accident…Byunghun wasn’t Byunghun. He began a dark, treacherous spiral that affected more than just him, but everyone around him. We were trying to save him, and he was trying to plunge himself in deeper. We outstretched our arms to him, called out for him, desperate to hang onto what we could to pull him back to the place he used to be, but he turned away from our embraces and deafened his ears to our voices.

He wanted to destroy himself.

And he did.

Byunghun and I were in love.

After the accident…it appeared as if he lost the ability to feel anything remotely close to that.

Byunghun and I were inseperable.

After the accident…he pushed me so far that he couldn’t pull me back in.

I remember the last night I spent with him, before he had closed himself off. It was a Friday. We were spending it at my place, on my bed. He was crying. He was sobbing. His body was shaking. I tried to comfort him, but none of my usual tactics worked. Then again, Byunghun wasn’t much of a crier, so my tactics were a little lacking.

-

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Chanhee.”

Chanhee rolled his eyes, spraying some dishwashing soap into the sink filled with water. “I haven’t even done anything yet, Jonghyun.” He shook his head, dropping the half-cleaned dishes one by one into the soapy mixture.

“I mean getting close to Byunghun again. He’s not the same person that he used to be, and you know that. You’re setting yourself up to get hurt again, and I don’t want to be the one picking up the pieces.”

The older boy let out a sigh.

Jonghyun just didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what it was like to be in love.

Chanhee knew, there was nothing that could get him to completely distance himself from Byunghun. He loved him. He was in love. That kind of bond wasn’t as easily broken.

So what, if Byunghun’s once soft heart turned into stone?

Never would that change Chanhee’s feelings for him.

“Don’t worry. I’m handling it.”

A few minutes before Jonghyun arrived, Chanhee had sent a very tedious text to Byunghun. Tedious in that he spent three hours with his thumb hovering over the SEND button, mentally debating over whether sending a text so soon after finally being exposed to the slightest return of his old Byunghun was all right or not. They hadn’t texted once since the accident.

He was scared of Byunghun’s response. How would the boy respond? Would he be cold and brush him off? Would he be like his old self again? Somewhere in between?

The text was simple. HEY, WHAT ARE YOU UP TO TONIGHT?.

The follow up question, obviously: WANNA HANG OUT?

Chanhee hadn’t checked his phone since Jonghyun came over. Two and a half hours. What if Byunghun had responded? What if he didn’t? A strange itching overcame him. He was curious. He was anxious.

Jonghyun would for sure not approve.

Chanhee didn’t understand their friendship. Jonghyun had known Byunghun since he was born, they had been friends for Jonghyun’s entire life. Nobody knew more about the other than each other. They referred to each other as brother. They were close.

So why on earth was Jonghyun so adamant in leaving Byunghun alone in his suffering?

He knew better than anyone that Byunghun needed someone right now, someone to hold him and tell him that things would be okay. Someone to take care of him, take some off some of the burdens of everyday life so the boy could properly mourn. Chanhee was surprised Byunghun even showed up to work on schedule, without a second overtime. Byunghun put his best face at work, and fulfilled his duties faithfully.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again, hyung. Hyung? Hello? God, you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

Chanhee had to snap back to reality. He couldn’t help it. His fingertips were itching to get his hands on his phone to check for a reply. They usually came like this, right? When the person was least expecting it?

Jonghyun seemed to know exactly what he had been thinking. “Go check.” He sighed, shaking his head as he reached over for the dirty plate that had been sitting in Chanhee’s hand for twenty minutes. “Tell me what he said, if anything.”

Chanhee didn’t need to be told twice. He threw the gloves into the sink and nearly raced up the stairs. His heart was pounding in his chest, blood rushing through his veins in complete adrenaline. Was it pathetic, clinging onto some spark of hope? He hoped not.

FROM: LEE BYUNGHUN

            SURE. WHERE?

A smile spread over his lips. His heart raced. Pressing the phone to his chest, he looked down at his feet. His smile widened. A laugh escaped.

With shaking fingers, he hurriedly wrote a reply.

TO: LEE BYUNGHUN

            DO YOU WANT TO GET SOMETHING TO EAT? MEAT?

Chanhee had nearly mentioned the small, Italian restaurant that they had once frequented. Byunghun had always loved spaghetti, and Chanhee had always loved catering to Byunghun’s needs. Plus, the goofy grin that Byunghun wore every time they went to said restaurant was a treat in and of itself.

But he knew better.

He couldn’t bring up the past. He had tried. Oh, had he tried.

Each time, Byunghun reacted in a way that was nearly inhuman. He snapped. He shouted. He sneered. Anything of the past was too sensitive to bring up.

Baby steps. Baby steps was all that was needed. Byunghun would get back to normal within time. The fun loving, beautiful boy would return to him again. He just needed time.

FIVE YEARS LATER . . . .

“We have gathered here today to mourn the passing of Lee Chanhee, a brother, a son, and a friend…He was brave, kind-hearted, and always strived to be better and work harder, racing towards his dream. But, alas, stress and the impermeable burden of heartache, coupled with a life-changing accident has led him into the arms of God. Now, I would like to present with great sadness, a eulogy by a Mr. Lee Byunghun.”

He tried to choke down a sob. He took a deep breath. Jonghyun, in an attempt to soothe the older, gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. Ricky patted his back from the pew behind him. With a whole lot of courage and a slightly trembling frame, he managed to make his way to the podium.

Byunghun cleared his throat. He gripped the wrinkled, lined piece of paper to death. His knuckles were white, and his hands were shaking so bad he could hardly read the ink-stained words on the page.

He hadn’t practiced much. He had tried. Oh, had he tried.

It never ended well. It made him angry. Frustrated. Sad.

“Lee Chanhee was…someone who always cared about others. He never gave up on them. No matter what.” Byunghun started, voice already trembling.

He went on, with much difficulty.

“I, five years ago, went through a traumatic time. Both my parents passed away. Being so emotionally invested in them, as a son is to his parents, it took a great toll on me. I didn’t care for much during that time. I refused…a lot of things. Love. Comfort. Care. All of which…” Byunghun took a deep breath to calm his wavering voice, and gave two, hard blinks to get rid of the moisture that was beginning to pile up in his eyes. “he fruitfully provided. He always cared for me, even when I did not express gratitude for it.”

“Now, in my bettered state…I wish I would have done things differently. I wish I would have appreciated more of what Chanhee offered, and returned it to him.”

“I’ll be indebted to him my entire life. Thinking of him, I’ll—I’ll live with an open heart, and mind. Never will I ever take anything for granted. And following in his image, I too will be a hand to hold when someone needs help, a shoulder to cry on when there are tears to be shed, and a strong pillar of support when world tumbles down.”

“Chanhee, I know you’re here, somewhere. Thank you for being my hand to hold, my shoulder to cry on, and my pillar when my world tumbled down. And when we meet again, I’ll be all those things that you had been for me. You are loved, and you will be missed. Always keep smiling, angel.”