It was a clawing feeling. A hopeless feeling, and Yoseob was desperate to come to terms with it before it drowned him in a sea of confusion. He knew what he felt for Junhyung was… wrong, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get it to vanish. He knew that he has loved Junhyung for three years, not in a friendly brotherly way, but in the way where the hot searing emotion made his heart palpitate faster. In the way that made his eyes dilate in pleasure, made his cheek muscles twitch higher. It was chemicals that urged his body to respond. However, no matter how he tried to dismiss those feelings, Yoseob suffered. He knew Junhyung did not feel the same way. But the sea of emotion threatened to spill over his whole body.

At times he felt that he could not control himself from reaching out to touch the man, to feel his hair, his lips, his hands, his necks, his chest, his back, and god knows what else. He could not even get him out of his dreams or fantasies. For the past three years, he had been working overtime just to get Junhyung out of his head. He needed something tangible to distract him from the plethora of daydreams of the older man’s smiling face. Over the past three years, his cheeks had lost some of its roundness and his skin some of its color. Not too noticeable. But finally came the day when Yoseob could no longer keep this deadly and heart aching secret to himself.

He had planned the day carefully, making sure everything was perfect. Yoseob knew he stood no chance, but he had to at least try. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, some little part of him dared to hope Junhyung would return his feelings, or maybe even just try to go out with him. And so when he said those three little words, those eight letters, those three syllables, those five vowels, he still had a miniscule and hopeful glimmer in his eyes. His heart pounded and his voice shook, which he cursed himself for. His back was sweaty and his knees felt weak. It had felt nerve wracking to say the words, but Yoseob felt like a huge burden was lifted off his chest. He hadn’t noticed that over the years, small weights were being stored gradually in his heart. But now he felt like his head was in clouds. Yoseob waited for Junhyung’s reaction. He tried to gauge his expression, but couldn’t pick up anything. Finally, and almost unbelievingly, Junhyung turned around and walked away without uttering a single word.

Yoseob stood in the same spot for a long time.

In the span of the next two months, Junhyung did not even spare Yoseob a single glance. Their group of mutual good friends continued to meet them, occasionally giving worried looks at the distance that had formed between the two previously close friends. Yoseob had grown alarmingly thin. His hair, albeit clean, seemed thinner and lay lifelessly on his head, shadowing his eyes. However, on the rare moments when he did lift up his head, the group could see the heavy bags, the hollow cheeks, and, most importantly, the disappearance of that cheeky glimmer in his eyes. Junhyung seemed to neither care nor notice the decaying status of his once close friend. Yoseob would frequently try to resuscitate the dead friendship only to be stopped by the solid wall of Junhyung’s coldness. The attempts gradually grew lesser in number as the hours Yoseob spent awake and working increased.

At the start of the third month, Junhyung brought a girl with him. He introduced her as his girlfriend. Yoseob, from the back of the room, stared at the beautiful girl. Her figure was petite and slim and he envied the way his arm slung around her waist perfectly. Her very existence seemed to be made for the man that no longer acknowledged Yoseob's  existence. The way they looked into each other’s eyes and the way the entwined their fingers. The way their couple rings glimmered in the sun shine and the way he hugged her from behind seemed so natural.

--

Yoseob's Point of View

She was nicer than me. She was cuter than me. She was funnier than me. She was smarter than me. She was better than me. I wished I could hate her and Junhyung. But I couldn’t. What right do I have to despise Junhyung’s happiness? What right do I have to even say it was his fault? It was all my fault for falling for him, for confessing, and for even daring to hope that maybe he would love me back. I faded into the background as our friends enthusiastically greeted her. Over the next month, she came to every time we met up. She took my place on the couch, next to Junhyung. She took my place on the floor when we played video games. I was just there, a ghost, watching them laugh. I was no longer turned to when they had something to share. On the rare times they did, my mouth didn’t function. They would turn back, disappointed in me.

That was when I would walk to the kitchen and make some snacks for them. That was the only time I felt useful.

It had been exactly one month since she had been introduced to us. Though nobody else was aware, I understood that she was slowly replacing me in everyone’s hearts. I was sick. Physically and mentally. I no longer wanted to see my friends who had so easily slid her into my spot. So sick of seeing them being with her as if she was the shiny new toy and I was the old, dusty, and broken one. So sick of seeing Junhyung touching her, kissing her, laughing with her. So this week I didn’t go meet up with them. I stayed at home, trying to keep images of them out of my mind. Trying to stop images of me and him flooding into my head.

There was a blanket of dirty snow everywhere. My boots scuffled along the side walk of the park. I was trying to clear my mind as my friends were probably karaokeing somewhere. The park was deserted, too cold for children to play and too cold for a leisurely walk. I stopped in the middle of the snow laden path and watched the sky darken. For the past few weeks I had been just trying to keep memories of me and him locked up. As I stood in the deserted park, the bottled emotion suddenly tumbled out and I let the tears fall. I stood still, watching the sun dip below the horizon, silently crying.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around. A scruffy teenager with a knife stood in front of me. He snarled as he said, “Wallet and cellphone.” I eyed the knife and the pitiful reflection of myself within it. I fished out my wallet and cellphone and handed it to him. As he fumbled to check the contents, I realized I left the precious photo of Junhyung inside. Stupid, I know. Utterly stupid to keep a photo of him in there when he doesn’t even love me. That’s how idiotic and lovesick I am. Without thinking, I yelled and grabbed my wallet back. The scared teenager’s eyes widened and I saw panic fill his face. I barely even saw a flash of metal head toward my torso before he started running away. My beating heart drowned out the heavy steps of the teen and my slow pants. I stared at the knife wound as blood bloomed across my sweater.

It didn’t even pain me. It was beautiful, like a sign of my bleeding and dying love. I laughed at my stupid comparison. This time, it throbbed in protest. “Even you don’t find me funny, do you?” I said out loud to my wound. The blood rapidly seeped out, picking up pace. For some strange reason, I did not panic. Maybe death was something I wanted. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. I gazed impassively at the blood now staining the snow.

Too late I had realized there was someone rushing towards me. It was Junhyung’s girlfriend, the last person I wanted to see. She screamed gleefully. “Yoseob! Why didn’t you come?” Then she looked down at the blood. Her faced paled and she shattered the peacefulness with one high shriek. Then she fainted into the blood. I looked up and I saw Junhyung sprinting towards us. My heart sank even more. I was embarrassed of the ugly wound and I desperately tried to hide it, back peddling furiously.

He, for the first time in three months, looked at me in the eye. Normally, I would have sung in joy, but he had the most furious, murderous, glare in his eyes. He took a stride and punched me as hard as he could in the face. “What did you do to her!?” He screamed at me. I laid on the snow, flinching away. My heart clenched in pain and my face burned even more painfully than the knife wound. But I was insanely joyful and sad at the same time for the most absurd reason. I smiled and my cheek throbbed, proof that he had willingly touched me one last time. My heart throbbed and I scolded myself for being so degraded as to even be happy that Junhyung had punched me. I laughed and gurgled out blood while on the ground, contemplating at how I could even think these things as my life bled out of me.

My head spun as I eavesdropped on Junhyung’s sweet whisperings the girl smeared with my own blood. I closed my eyes and pretended that it was to me he was whispering to. That is was he kneeling at my side, my hair, and ghosting his fingers over my lips. “Wake up please, wake up. Please be alright, I’m gonna call the ambulance right now, okay?” I was in my dream world as I cried tears of joy and sadness. Images of him and me wrestling on the floor, sharing a drink, confiding to each other flashed through my already half jumbled head.

It actually felt like his hands were caressing my cheeks, felt like his lips were on mine. No longer feeling physical pain, my numb cheek felt the tears freeze. I let my hand drop from my bloody side, having no more strength to keep it up. I felt myself slipping as I heard the distant sound of an ambulance. Using the last of my will power, I turned my head towards Junhyung’s back. My voice came out hoarse as I whispered, “I-I love you, J-Junhyung.” For the last time, and with a sense of content that I hadn’t felt in three years, I let my eye lids fall, giving me the dreamless and deep slumber I had always wanted.

--

After seeing no wounds, Junhyung turned around after he heard a murmur. Yoseob faced him, a thin line of blood trailing down the side of his face from his parted lips. There were no puffs of condensation rising from his mouth. Junhyung looked down at his shoes, which were stained from red, warm blood. The source of the spreading blood came from Yoseob’s side. Junhyung’s eyes widened and hesitantly crawled towards Yoseob. He touched Yoseob’s cheek gently, caressing it.

His mind went blank and the next thing he knew was the paramedics shoving him out of the way and his girlfriend shaking him lightly. As he was dragged away, his boots crunched the already crystalized pink chunks of blood and ice.

--

Good Night.

Junseob for ing ever.