Losing Count

Taemin thinks he is philosophical, introspective, or maybe not. Maybe he just thinks a lot- likes to think a lot. He likes silence and solitude. He likes it when he can hear his mind, he likes it when he can spread his mind before his closed eyes, linking everything to everything. He likes the wonder of it all- the wonder of how occupied, how caught up he could be without a reason or person around.

He prefers window seats due to this very reason. He can keep himself occupied, thoughts running through his mind, some from elsewhere, some from the view he sights. He prefers window seats also because he can close his eyes and rest his head against the window frame, letting his thoughts color the darkness that he sights.

He is an outspoken person when he leaves the world of serenity he builds up at times, being frank and honest about everything. He’s chided by everyone, because he isn’t like what he lets on, because he suffers due to it.

He’s thick-headed, selfish too, because he’s too caught up in what he thinks, too caught up to realize that there is someone else’s mind he needs to regard.

And that is why Taemin is the kind of person that gets dumped easily.

Minho is the kind of person that dumps everyone easily.

He has a charming face, a comfortable aura, an alluringly dependable smile, that makes the fact that he dates anyone who’d ask first, for a week, something very justifiable.

A week passes and he’s awfully loyal, awfully respectful, awfully compliant, awfully everything ideal, that it makes him a perfect boyfriend, a dream everyone wants to live despite them being dumped at the end.

He shatters dreams every week with words awfully true.

“I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up.”

Kibum knows Minho’s reasons- his friend is cautious, his friend grabs at every opportunity, because he believes in fate but does not believe it to be almighty.

So, Minho searches for a person, the one made for him, the one who is hard to meet, harder to obtain. The one his parents let go or missed and ended up stuck with each other, someone else’s fate, stuck in a mundane life they no longer lived for themselves.

Minho searches for a person, the one made for him, his reflection in the contrary, the one who’d complete him, the one who’ll give his existence reason.

But Kibum is skeptical, It may take more than seven days to know.

Minho argues, It takes only a few moments.

A week, seven days, a cycle of time set by the world, a cycle which repeats for him unchangingly, was enough to find such moments, either hidden or scattered. He searches for those moments in his unchanging weeks, those moments that will shake his sentiments, his mindset, make him understand what truly an emotion called love was.

Kibum says Minho is a romanticist, but Minho says he’s a rationalist, because harboring romanticism is rational for every human.

His claim stirs Kibum so much that he ends up believing him at times.

Taemin attends a professional course at a well-reputed university, but he sometimes wonders why.

He sits in class, thinking around what the professor says, sometimes thinking about something else, trying to relate everything that he knows to everything he thinks, trying to make sense of the topics explained, trying to understand why he needs to know them, trying to understand why he finds himself where he is.

He speaks what he thinks immediately after class, earning amused looks from Jinki and Jonghyun who always say one thing, no matter what he asks them.

“It’s fate.”

Taemin shakes his head in perplexity, thinking how it could be fate when he had chosen to be where he is; and he speaks it again to the two, who answer with a smile.

“You were fated to make such choices.”

Taemin is rendered speechless as his thoughts whirl instead, compelling him to indeed believe it a play of fate, because no matter how much he thinks, he could not find reasons behind most of his choices.

Minho stood in front of his potential fate, a girl beautiful with long hair that swayed in the light breeze, nervousness reigning her mien, eyes that did not meet his, voice ever so soft, timid. He says yes without thinking, because he had prepared himself to, he repeats her name under his breath to imprint it in his mind for a week and walks away politely, promising to meet her soon.

He keeps his every promise when being obliged to her, he tries to be kind, be understanding, to bring out the best in her, to bring out what she hides, her true self that sets her apart from everyone else.

He sees her smile, laugh and talk, he watches her all the time, with senses alert to grasp the moments, with a heart eager to be shaken.

He tries counting moments when that happens, but he never gets past One.

He tries hard.

Comes Sunday when he stands before her again, when he speaks the words he is notorious for.

Her mien dims and Minho watches her, not finding himself shake at her fallen face, not finding himself feeling anything but apologetic.

She accepts, she leaves, like she had implicitly promised, but Minho stands, watching her go, not having the slightest desire to make her stay.

He sighs and turns.

She was not his fate.

Taemin wasn’t one for appearances.

There was only little a person’s appearance let on, there was not much to like basing them on what they looked like. What made a person was always hidden inside, something which many people hesitated to show others, and Taemin thought it was a matter of comfort.

He never rejected confessions, because he found no reason to; also because he never based anyone on appearances and first impressions, also because he wondered what hid behind it all. There was unpredictability, there was excitement, and this strong hope that this person was the one he was made for.

But it was only him that grew comfortable, only him that opened up. His counterpart was wary of his forwardness, was irked by his frankness. In the end, they left him, disappointed that he was not what they thought; leaving him disheartened, wondering why they never liked him for who he truly was.

He realized that he only seemed like he was their dream. He never actually was.

Thus, he couldn’t help but think and think, wonder and wonder, who in this vast expanse of life they called the Earth, was the one whose dream he truly was. He couldn’t help but think how he would find them, how will he know if he does. He couldn’t help but think too...would he be able to find them at all?

His thoughts were turning into the worries of his idle time, but he didn’t voice them to Jinki and Jonghyun because he knew what their answer would be.

Leave it all to fate.

Every unresolved thought of his head, Taemin began leaving to fate. He felt at ease by doing so, knowing well he’ll find the reason behind their existence some time or the other.

But there was one thought that didn’t let him calm.

Minho.

He was a student from another course, whom everyone talked about, he was everyone’s dream for a week, and Taemin couldn’t help but wonder how.

How could one person be what so many sought?

Jinki had spoken of what he had heard- the fact that Minho agreed every Monday, the fact that Minho was sincere while it lasted, the fact that Minho ended it cruelly at the end of every week with the very same words.

I couldn’t fall in love with you. Let’s break up.

It intrigued Taemin beyond reason, intrigued because there was something in his eyes, something in his smile that stirred him, intrigued him because he could not ascertain the reason behind Minho’s weekly change of partners, intrigued him because Minho and him seemed similar, but were different.

And Taemin realized how.

Taemin seemed like a dream. Minho actually was.

Taemin gave up thinking how Minho could be everyone’s dream.

He gave up thinking because he ended up voicing it to him.

But Minho had no answer.

Taemin was triggered, annoyed on not finding calm and he ended up saying words, uncaring of what they might bring forth.

“Go out with me.”

Minho looked at him with surprise, a smile brewing on his face at his brashness, “Okay.”

Taemin blinked at what had just happened and raised his arm to glance at the digital watch at his wrist.

It was Monday.

Taemin wondered how and why and he could soon hear his mind fill his ears with the answer.

It’s fate.

It’s fate, Minho thought, staring at the one ahead of him, dark hair falling over irate, impulsive eyes, face stiff after what he had uttered, while he waited for him to respond.

“Okay,” Minho replied like he always did, replied because he did not want to refute fate, replied because amidst the annoyance, amidst the arrogance he could spot confoundment, a desire to seek and unravel.

Taemin, he repeated the name under his breath, letting it be imprinted in his mind as he stared at his shocked face, his wide eyes, the mouth that was hung open slightly before he raised his arm to glance at his watch and continued to stare at it in utter horror.

“Please be kind to me.” Minho said, walking away with a smile, glancing back at Taemin who still stood in astoundment.

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle to himself because it was the first time that his week had had such a different start. And when he realized that, his laughter faded and he halted, glancing back, finding Taemin still rooted to the spot, hands in his pocket as he played with the pebbles on the path.

He watched Taemin walk away, keeping the rising hope within him in check, It takes a few moments.

He took a deep breath, resolving himself as he counted, One.

There was truth in Jinki’s words.

Minho was sincere, awfully sincere that Taemin was irritated at the way Minho followed him. Taemin had not expected Minho to take him seriously, but there he was, being what he was supposed to be as implicitly promised.

Be it waiting at the gates for him to come, be it walking him to his every class, be it sitting together at lunch, be it waiting after classes to walk him back home, Minho was always there for him just like a boyfriend was.

It was Tuesday when Taemin decided to free himself of his irritation. Decided to live the dream everyone claimed Minho was, because that was the very reason he had approached him, to find out what exactly set them apart.

He dragged Minho to a date, saying he wanted to enjoy his company while it lasted. And Minho let himself be dragged, amused at how brave Taemin was, amused at how forward and frank he was, amused at how he differed from what he let on.

Amidst the games they played, the food they shared, the walks they took and the sceneries they watched, Taemin realized Minho tried hard. Tried hard beyond his limits. Tried hard out of his comfort zone. All to make Taemin comfortable.

Taemin wondered why.

Being impulsive as he was, he spoke why.

But Minho remained silent, like those were words he cannot speak easily, words that mattered.

And Taemin grew silent too despite the questions ringing in his head, because he realized he was a person of fleeting importance, someone not worthy of those words at all.

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