“I’m just so tired right now.”

“You wouldn’t be so tired if you had packed light. Isn’t that the norm these days, backpack travelers?”

“Do I look like I’m in the mood for an argument?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Then stop saying anything.”

“Okay.”

. . .

“Did you bring a lock for your bag?”

. . .

“Hey.  I’m asking something.”

. . .

“I’m leavi—“

“Sh*t.”

“What?”

“I left something.”

“For the nth time, what the did you leave?”

“Myself.”

“Seriously, now.”

“I’m serious.”

“You left yourself?”

“Yeah, when he left me.”

“You left your lock in your house, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, and that too.”

“Sh*t.”

“I know.”

“Here, use mine.”

“Thanks.”

“Lock yourself in there too.  You might get lost in the maze of the ed-up world there is.  Be grateful you got back to square one.”

Kyungsoo inserts the hook of the lock in the hole of the zipper then hears the satisfying click as he applied pressure on the said lock.  He sighs in relief and looks up to a man dressed in a sweatshirt and pants, the hood over his head while earphones carelessly dangled from his chest.  The other is looking around, shifting the bag on his back once in a while and a small case that was so light Kyungsoo doubted it the first time he saw. 

“Hey, thanks Jongin.”

“Yeah, no problem.  What’re ex-s for, right?”

There is a tinge of bitterness in that statement that made the small, owl-eyed boy wince.

“Let’s check in?”  Kyungsoo says after the lengthy silence that transpired between them.

Without saying a word, the taller, tanned guy turns around and walks to the counter, followed by a Kyungsoo looking back at his suitcase and wondering why he was running away for once in his life.

--

“Congratulations.  You boarded the flight.”

“Thanks.  And for your lock—“

“Don’t mind it.  Your suitcase needs it more than mine.”

“I’ll give it back—“

“When you get back to Korea?  Sure.”

“Why are you heading to America, anyway?”

Jongin looks away, opting to occupy himself with the movie on the screen in front of him.  Kyungsoo, on the other hand, looks out of the window, the white clouds fluffy enough to make him smile.

The smaller guy pokes the screen in front of him until his favorite in-air movie pops out.  Smiling, he places the headphones on and starts the movie, unaware that a pair of eyes beside him are looking at him and thinking where they went wrong.

Both had all 13 hours to answer the questions in their heads.

--

“Sir, would you like to have chicken, pork or beef?”

Jongin stirs as the voice wafted through his sleeping ears, coupled with a gentle shake from his side.  He comes to realize that it was already dinner time and the stewardess is asking Kyungsoo who gave no reply but roused the sleeping guy beside him.

“I’ll have chicken, thanks.”  Kyungsoo replies curtly once Jongin comes to his senses, bowing to the girl whose attention immediately shifts to Jongin.

“How about you, sir?  Chicken, pork or beef?”

“Pork.  I’ll have pork, thank you.”

When both had their dinner in front of them already, they switched.  Kyungsoo liked pork more and Jongin liked chicken most.

It was like high school all over again, except they were in an airplane, and they weren’t lovers.

Not anymore, at least.

--

What bothered Kyungsoo to the bone was this.

“Did you change your cologne?”

“What?”  A surprised Jongin said, looking at his seatmate as if he were lunatic of the year.

“I said, did you change your cologne?”

“Since third year college, yes.  Why?”

Kyungsoo nods, looking outside again.

“Nothing.”  He replies.

“Missed my old scent?”  Jongin immediately asks.

“Nope, I’m just curious.”

“I see.”

But the truth is that Kyungsoo missed not just Jongin’s scent, but Jongin himself.

--

What bothered Jongin, on the other hand, was this.

“Is that your old, dingy sweatshirt back in high school?”  Jongin asks.

“Yeah, why?”  Kyungsoo asks back.

“I thought you got rid of it.”

“I almost did, back in second year college.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because it somehow reminded me of you.”

“Then why didn’t you throw that away, if it does?”

“Because I wanted to hold on to one piece that would remind me of you.”

“And?

“That’s me.  I hold on.  I always hold on.”

Silence.

And in that silence, Jongin came to realize how Kyungsoo was unusually strong, and how he was unusually weak.

And how Kyungsoo could easily let those words come out of his mouth while he could barely make his tongue move to do the same.

--

“Hey, Jongin.”  Kyungsoo says as he stands up, albeit partially. 

“What?”

“I’m going to the washroom.  Move.”

There was barely enough space for the two of them to move and Kyungsoo’s footing was unsteady, so he ended up straddling Jongin as he lost his balance and sat on the other’s lap. 

“I’m—“

“Stand up now.”

With hands on his waist helping him to stand, Kyungsoo did and hurriedly walked to the lavatory, washing his heating face.

He never felt Jongin’s hands become cold as ice and his breath shaky and unsteady.

--

“Why are you going to America?”  Jongin asks.

“To forget.”

“Why would you like to forget?”

“Because I need to.”

“Forget what, exactly?”

“People.”

“Are you living there permanently?”

“I would’ve brought more baggage, if that was the case.”

“And if you forget?”

“I know I can’t.  Not that easily.”

“Then why?”

“It’s one step.”

“So why waste the money, time and energy to travel when you could have just forgotten whoever that was in the comfort of your own home?”

“Because forgetting means throwing that memory out to the wind.  How can you forget something that’s etched in your heart without throwing your own heart away?”

“You’re throwing your heart away in America?”

“Somewhat.  I’m hoping to gain a new heart there.”

“I see.”

“You don’t.”

“Because I never forget.”

“Because you do not want to forget.”

“Forgetting begets missing.  And I don’t want to miss a chance to see every flaw this world has in store for me.”

“Why’s that?”

“So that I’ll learn.  So that I’ll live knowing that these imperfections make my world perfect.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to miss a moment.”

“We all have moments.  It’s up to us to sort what and what not to store.  What we don’t have is time.”

“So you’re going to America to forget.  Expensive forgetting you got there.”

“That’s life.”

--

 It is in these quiet times that Kyungsoo thinks of the old Jongin.

The Jongin who used to hold his hand whenever he felt scared, never minding that he got sweaty palms every time.

The Jongin who used to drag him to the school’s rooftop and peer at their schoolmates like scientists peering through an ant farm.

The Jongin who held his hand for no reason at all.

The Jongin who—

Then he felt something brush his hand, and saw that the Jongin beside him, sleeping, was unconsciously holding his hand.

Then Jongin’s head lolled off to Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

And Kyungsoo, slowly and experimentally, leaned his head on Jongin’s.

And they stayed like that for hours.

--

Jongin wakes up to a sleeping Kyungsoo, head leaning against his.

And he feels his hand touching another’s, and realizes that he is holding Kyungsoo’s hand.

In that moment, Jongin’s resolve was set.

--

“You never answered my question.”

“What question?”  Jongin answers quietly.

“Why you’re going to America.”

“To find something.”

“With that suitcase of yours you’re actually trying to find something?”

“Yeah.”

“Find what?”

“A heart that’s broken.  So I can heal it.  And give it back to the owner.  Make it new again.”

“Huh, really now.”

“I’m quite serious.  Plus I got a month’s vacation so why not spend it away.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks for the support.”

--

Lapsing into total, complete silence was one thing both were good at.  They would just stare into the sky, or sometimes at the teacher, and wonder if things that are worth time, effort and love end because the time, effort and love one gave is already enough that giving more would be disastrous, or if the time, effort and love one gave just wasn’t enough.

They knew the answer as the rain poured and two people under blue and yellow umbrellas bearing the same design walked in opposite directions.

Sometimes, it is the second one.

Oftentimes, it is the first.

--

If Kyungsoo could say one thing he missed of Jongin, it was the way the latter, without words, made him feel special.

--

If Jongin could say one thing he missed of Kyungsoo, he would probably say nothing.

Because he never missed Kyungsoo.

Because Kyungsoo was always, always in his heart.

Even when they broke up.

Especially when they broke up.

It was then that Jongin realized that the bearer of the yellow umbrella made him blue. 

--

“What if we didn’t break up?”  Kyungsoo asks as they ate the snacks given to them several hours ago.

“I don’t really like answering what if’s.”

“Just out of fun, Jongin.”

“Maybe we’d be traveling together.”

“Isn’t this considered traveling together?”

“This trip?”

“Yeah.”

“This is coincidence.”

“Then what do you think we would do?

“We’re probably holding hands right now, covertly making out.  Maybe even more.  Maybe you’ll put your head on my shoulders and I’ll whisper how much I love you.  Maybe a cheesy pick up line or two.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

“Well that’s something.”

“Kyungsoo what if we didn’t break up?”

“Hmm?  Throwing back the question to me, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe we’ll just cozy up in our own house, watch TV, be the couple everyone envies.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“Well that’s something.”

“Why you—“

“What?”

--

High school was the time to grow up, be a teenager and enjoy life.

For Kyungsoo, this was the time where he could be free from everything—life, love, family—everything.  His parents always thought  of him as a perfect son: grades are consistently high, had minimal but lasting friends, did not go to those parties that left other kids like him slumping on the curb; those things that made other parents envious of them.

When high school came, Kyungsoo asked if he could live on his own.

What his parents didn’t realize was that their son, with his doe eyes and his plump, heart shaped lips, was so fed up with his “perfect” life that he chose to leave it for the danger and adventure of the real life.

Of course, his parents easily consented.

It was easy keeping up his grades; that was a no-brainer for him.  Consistently he was in the top and that made his parents very happy.

Well, he was also part of the crowd that made itself present in every party there was ever thrown.

It was easy dodging classes for him, going to the infirmary and complaining about headaches when all he was nursing was a terrible hangover.  The next day he was back as if nothing happened, with his prim-and-proper façade.

Nobody caught him in his changing.

It was only Jongin.

Jongin who caught him once in the infirmary.

Jongin, the main dancer of the school’s dance troupe.

Jongin who was with him last night, drinking shot after shot.

Jongin who leaned in and whispered, “Wow, you’re ing weak with alcohol” then proceeded to lie in the bed beside him.

Jongin who was the third overall best student.

--

It went somewhat good from there.

Kyungsoo still maintained his top position, still attended the parties, still was an overall A+ student in school.

Jongin advanced in being the second overall best student, still is the main dancer of the dance troupe, still is with the parties.

The only thing different is that Jongin liked to stay in the infirmary less, and the library more.

“What brings you here?”  Kyungsoo asked as he caught sight of the other’s blonde hair sticking out from a copy of some old book.  He only caught the author’s last name before sitting down.  Wilde.

There was no reply, just a slight lowering of the book.

They continued being like that, silent library buddies.

Kyungsoo would read exactly three chairs behind the other and wonder exactly what was going on in the other’s mind while he himself was reading The Beginning of Everything.

Jongin, on the other hand, was silently grateful that small, petite boy was always three chairs behind him for if he only knew how many times the name Kyungsoo has slipped through his tongue the other would be horrified.

And yes, he was reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. 

--

They started going out summer of second year high school, going to third.

They broke up the fall of second year college, going to third.

--

It went something like this, their break-up:

“I just don’t think we can do this thing.”

“What thing are you talking about, Jongin?”

“This. . . relationship.  We’re already in college, Kyungsoo—our relationship just wasn’t formed with a steady foundation, like high school.  I want something real.”

“So you’re breaking up with me because you want something formed in college.  And gods, you’re saying that this relationship of ours is pure imagination.  Or something unreal.  Is that right?”

“N—no that’s not what I was saying, it’s just. . .”

“Did you find someone new?”

“Kyungsoo, I—“

“Just answer me.  Did you find someone new?”

There was a sigh.           

Then Kyungsoo understood.

He stood up and nodded.

“If that’s what you want, Jongin.”

“Kyungsoo I’m sorry.”

“Just—“

“Soo.”

“Kai.”

Rarely has Jongin heard Kyungsoo call him by the name everyone else called him.

“Kai, just tell me you’ll be happy.”

He never got to reply.  Kyungsoo walked out, very casually, and opened his yellow umbrella.  Jongin did the same.

He never got to see the tears Kyungsoo shed while he was away.

--

It went something like this, how they came to be:

They were in the rooftop of the school one summer day, when both had nothing better to do.

“Kyungsoo, do you like anyone?”

“I guess.”  Kyungsoo said as he moved a bit into the shade and nearer to Jongin.

There was a few intakes of long breaths before Jongin got to speak again.

“I see.”

“How about you?”

“Yeah, I—I do like someone.”

“Who?”

“Hey, I didn’t ask you who so you better respect my privacy.”

“Okay, okay.”

Again, some long intake of breaths and then—

There was a movement on his side.  When Kyungsoo looked, it was Jongin leaning to him, looking at him in the eye and his cheek with a thumb.

“I am in love with you, Kyungsoo.”

Then a kiss.

It was days before Kyungsoo called Jongin again back to the rooftop.

This time, it was him who initiated the kiss.

--

“Hey, Jongin, what were you reading back in the library again?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“Why’d you pick that?”

“Reminds me of someone perfect.”

“Who’s that?”

“You.”

--

Sometimes the thirteen ungodly hours you sit in a plane make you realize how much time there is that you can sit down, make your numb and look out at the clouds in the sky.

“Kyungsoo, what happened to you exactly?”

“What kind of question is that even—“

“I mean, why are you running away.  You never ran away.”

“What, I just walked away?”

“No, I’m serious.”

--

In a gist, Kyungsoo’s heart got broken again.

He met the guy in fourth year college, became lovers, three years after he got a steady  job they broke up.

That was late last year.

They broke up because of the same reason Jongin told him.

He wanted something more real.

Kyungsoo wanted to ask, what the ?  Do I look like an illusion?  Does my love look like a ing unrealistic thing?

But kept it mum.

He needed to, for his sake.

He got this vacation to get rid of Jongin, etched in his heart, because the break-up reminded him of his high school love.

He got this vacation because he realized that all these time, he was still irrevocably in love with Jongin.

He never thought that it would be Jongin who would be his airplane seatmate.

--

“Hey.  Jongin.  We’re landing in a few hours.  You better wake up and brush your teeth.”

Kyungsoo never knew that thirteen hours would be this quick.

--

“Welcome to America.”

These three words made Jongin’s heart sink, because he knew that their umbrellas will walk separate ways again, and it is of the greatest coincidence that they will meet again.

Jongin was hoping against hope.

--

“Kyungsoo I—“

“Yes?”

“I need to tell you something.”

They were waiting for their luggage and Kyungsoo was yawning, but nodded.

“What is it?”

“Do I still have a. . .”

“A what?”

“DoIstillhaveachanceonyou?”

“The did you just say?”

“Do I still have a chance on you, I said.”

Reddening cheeks, eyes wide with surprise and shock.

“I—I—“

“Just tell me a yes or no, Kyungsoo.  I’m willing to wait.  Until we get back to Korea.  I’ll wait.  Just tell me if I do have a chance.”

--

They walked away separately.

There was something between them, something new, something that was forged years ago that is being forged anew again.

This time, it will be stronger.

This time, they’re not letting go of each other.

==