~ recommended music: you get me so high - the neighbourhood ~ “You know what’s wrong with you, Song Mingi?” Yunho slurred, the bottle of soju still in hand. Mingi was swaying his hips from side to side to music only he hears in his head. On the makeshift table – made out of a big box and a piece of plank on top of it – were speckles of white sand - or diamond dust, Mingi calls it - and he had some on his sharp nose as well, which he wiped off with his fingers when his nose started itching, sniffing at it to get as much into his system as possible.
“What?” Mingi asked, not as curious as he was lazy.
“You’re too clingy to me, that’s what.”
Mingi smirked at the comment. “Clingy? You’re the one who’d be too lonely without me.”
Yunho shook his lowered head as he swished the soju bottle in the air in disagreement. “Do you really think I only have you?”
“I’m starting to think so,” Mingi said, the smirk lingering on his face playfully. “If not, why are you here?”
“How can I leave you alone when you do shit like this?” Yunho asked, looking straight at Mingi now. He was trying to be serious but he can’t help but feel his eyes droop. God, I’m so drunk, he thought to himself. The cold November air wasn’t enough to keep him awake, and the drop from this 11-floor apartment building’s wide open rooftop scared him but not enough to keep himself from downing two whole bottles of soju.
Mingi started humming Illusion under his breath.
“Hey, the moon kinda looks like a purple sun, right?”
“But the moon’s white,” Yunho replied.
Mingi chuckled, and it annoyed Yunho. “You’re not seeing it, man. The moon’s purple. Look.” He pointed at the sky. It was cloudy tonight, and the moon was barely visible; just a slither of light to make a crescent.
Yunho didn’t know what to say. He was worried but Mingi wouldn’t remember anything if he scolded him now anyway. “You’re crazy,” was all he could manage. He stared at the sky for a while, and suddenly he felt Mingi’s arms slide from behind over his shoulders. A pair of hands meet across Yunho’s chest, and he felt the other’s head rest on top of his.
“You look so beautiful right now.”
Yunho suddenly felt like drinking a little bit more of that soju. He was embarrassed but he liked the warmth Mingi provided, despite being able to feel the hands’ coldness as it seeps through his jacket and to his skin like ice. He took them with his own cold hands and tried to warm them by rubbing them together. This made Mingi come closer and pull Yunho into a hug, his cheeks rubbing against Yunho’s hair.
“Thanks,” Mingi said.
“What for?”
“Just… for being here.”
Yunho turned to face the other. “Are you sober?”
“What’s a sober,” Mingi rolled his eyes. He let go of Yunho and went to open another bottle of soju, taking two gulps then wincing as he put the bottle down. Yunho sighed and his mouth moved to one side in disapproval. “Hey hey, you’re blushing,” Mingi mentioned, pointing at the other.
“What? No I’m not,” Yunho replied, putting his cold fingertips on his cheeks as he jutted his lips out a little, feeling accused. Okay, they’re a bit warm, Yunho thought to himself. “It’s just so cold out.”
“Yea,” Mingi chuckled. “Sure.”
“You sure you’re not sober?” Yunho asked, standing up. He started to walk towards Mingi, who was facing out into the neighbourhood.
“The key to being a great artist,” Mingi almost shouted. “is to never be completely sane.” He stretched his arms out, taking in the cold wind as it blew slowly and painfully. “That’s why van Gogh cut off his own ear. That’s why Beethoven was so great; he was spiralling down his own sanity from being deaf. That’s why-”
Mingi stopped when Yunho kissed his cheek.
“You’re cute, but research is showing that van Gogh’s friend was the one who cut off his ear.”
Mingi didn’t know what to do at first, but Yunho kept his eyes on the boy, waiting for a response. His cheeks were still flushed red, but he wasn’t shy. He just really, really wanted to kiss Mingi.
Mingi didn’t know what he was doing when his hand reached out for Yunho’s chin, pulling it closer to his own face, then landing his lips on the other’s. They moved away for a second, then came back together, separating their lips to feel the other’s warm tongue. They felt their heads spin, their blood flowing at rapid speed. They stayed there, kissing each other for a minute. Yunho pulled away first – he looked at the other’s eyes, then looked down. He wanted to leave from embarrassment, but Mingi took his hand.
“Why did van Gogh’s friend cut his ear?”
It took a moment for Yunho to come to his senses to reply. “They were drunk.”
They kept quiet for a bit. Irony works in funny ways.
“They were drunk and the dude was harassing the girl who worked at the bar. Van Gogh thought of the girl as his own sister, so he pulled his friend out of the bar so that he’d stop. The dude wasn’t happy about it, and pulled out his sword at van Gogh. Still, the friend was running as a minister in another country, and van Gogh didn’t want the crime to stop him from winning. So he claimed that he did it to himself.”
“You’re not making this up, right?”
“There’s proof.”
“So van Gogh’s just a really nice person huh?” Mingi sighed.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” Yunho said. He walked away, and swept the leftover ‘diamond dust’ off of the tabletop. “You can be great without the insanity. The world’s a crazy place already.”
Mingi watched as Yunho walked through the door to the stairwell. The effect of half a gram doesn’t do much to him anymore. He still tries to enjoy himself around Yunho, to show him that he’s okay. The thoughts need to disappear, even if it’s only a few minutes. Things are better if Yunho’s around though. He can tell Mingi weird stuff – like van Gogh fun facts – and make him forget about the voices.
I’ll just keep clinging to you then, Mingi thought to himself. It’s the only way I can stay sober, for now.
of course you would remember the first time you met eyes.
at that time he was no one. he was another person to fill the pores of your skin. then he talked to you with those eyes.
of course you remembered that time he said hi to you at that corridor. it was no big deal; just a hi. but not to you, who felt invisible under the sheets in your bed.
of course you would avoid the road where you two met eyes and waved at each other. of course you felt special. he made you feel like you exist. like he saw you.
he saw nothing.
of course you would be upset to know that he was not who you thought him to be.
of course you would be heavy-hearted to smile at his jokes, or the stories of him your friends tell you.
of course you would be hurt.
of course you would cry.
there is no wrong in being weak; in being human.
it's okay, it's okay.
you can live without him in your life. you don't need him. you don't need anyone to fill your life with greatness; you are the epitome of potential. you were made for lazy nights and ocean waves. and it's okay to want to have someone, but know that that won't destroy you.
it's okay, really. it's fine, you are going to be fine. of course you are.
It was a thirty minute train ride during peak hours. She caught sight of him as she came down the escalator to the underground area. He wore a baseball shirt and a cap over his eyes. Spectacles, a slight goatee growing on the tip of his long face, standing over a foot above her head. She followed behind him as they got on the train and turned her back on him as soon as she found something to hold on to. It was still hard for her to balance on her two inch heels, so as the crowd went in and out of the train, she found herself holding onto the pole he was holding as well. As each station passed, she swore it would be his stop.
"Subang," she thought. "He seems like a Subang kid. No? Okay."
"Batu Tiga. He won't go any further than this." The boy stood in his place. "Well."
"There's no way he's stopping at Shah Alam too," she thought as the train approaches the next station. The sky was getting dark and it seemed unfit that a girl like her was out alone. "Fuck what other people thinks," she thought. "I'm better off alone anyway."
As the door opens, she starts for it, and notices that boy moving beside her. "No way... What a huge coincidence. Does he notice me? That we're stopping at the same place?"
"Does he feel the same way?"
They pass the ticket inspection and she walked towards the taxi waiting area when the boy approached her. "Hey! Hey you, with the purple shirt!"
She turned, surprised.
"You got a ride home?"
He touched her cheek as soon as he locked the apartment door. She breathed quietly as he bent down, sticking his tongue in her mouth before their lips touched. They made out by the door, his hands touching her from her neck to her shoulders to her breasts to her ass, and as one thumb pressed against her crotch, he unzipped his trousers with his other hand.
"Wait wait wait," she stopped him, letting go of his lips' grasp. "I don't do third base."
"What?"
"I'm keeping my virginity."
"What the fuck for?" he smirked, pulling her skirt's hem playfully. "I know you're wet down there already anyway."
"That's not the point," she said, looking away when he tried to get hold of her lips again.
"Oh come on," he whispered. "It won't hurt, I promise..." He pulled down his trousers to his ankles, busy working on both his boxers and her skirt.
She gave a slightly crooked smile as her hand swiftly reached into her handbag for the butterfly knife. He didn't see anything in the dark and foolishly drooled with joy when he manages to get her skirt down to the ground. In a blink of an eye, the girl pushed the blade into his stomach and pulled it back out. His eyes bulged out, looking at her exasperatedly. She then sliced his throat, blood spluttering on her smooth complexion and the purple blouse and the yellow walls. The body fell on the wooden floorboards underneath them as she sighed.
"Shit. Not again."
She pulled her skirt back on and took off her shoes, peeping around for the kitchen. "Tea, tea, tea, tea..."
After washing her blade and hands clean, she boiled some water and looked for any signs of tea in the cupboards. "Score! And it's the good kind too. Man, that was too bad. I didn't even get to talk to him... Seemed like a nice guy."
She sat next to a window, staring out at the moon. The scent of blood seeped through every room of the small apartment, but she kept her nose by the mug of tea. Quietly sipping her worries away, she thought of all the boys that couldn't keep their dicks in their pants, and then the one guy who wouldn't even look at her, and how she would do anything for him to love her the way he loved that other girl, and her tea turned cold and salty from her tears dripping down her cheeks into the mug, and her hands shook on her lap, and the scent of blood was then accompanied by the quiet sobs of a girl who was never loved.
It's awful because he knows that in a way I'm trying to avoid eye contact with him.
It's awful because he has such a handsome smile.
It's awful because he's not worth the thought.
It's awful... because when I saw him this morning I didn't hate him, I didn't want to avoid him, but in a way I know I ruined it, or I never had a chance at all, and I was so upset I ran away from the world.
extracted from a letter to m.jup dated 18th April 2015.
"You took the train, then walked a bit to your apartment."
"Oh. What day is it?"
"Saturday."
"Kate?"
"We parted with her in the train at a different station. She said she had a good time."
"It's winter break."
"Yes it is."
"How did you get home?"
"I took the train, and walked a bit to your apartment."
"Funny. Where do you live again?"
"Further down town, on Westchester's."
Finally, you look up at my face. Not just glance to make sure who I was like when you first woke up, but actually look at me. My reflection. My mess. The smothered eyeliner and bird's nest of a hair. You looked confused. I wonder if I should explain myself. If I should explain why I bothered so much about what he did and if he would end up okay.
"Someone had to make sure you got home safe. Now stop asking shit and take the aspirin."
Green. Blue. Blue. Shades of last night. You couldn't shut up about Kate and I couldn't shut up about how I longed for you and you were blind and you replied with "I'm blinded by the light in her eyes," and I sighed a white mist out of my mouth and wiped the tears with my free hand and heaved your arm over my shoulder to make sure you didn't fall on the icy cold tar below us. I wanted to kiss you, I wanted to kiss you and the alcohol mixed in your saliva so that I could be as drunk as you, drunk enough to do things without thinking it through, but I was still sober, too sober, that I thought it wouldn't be right for you, because you wouldn't remember a thing, and I wanted you to know how my lips taste like, and not merely just as memories - I wanted you to know them, so I'll wait.
Blue. White. White and black. The lines that sketch our surroundings. You took the shirt off your back without saying a word and headed to the showers. I stood in your room silently, waiting for you to say something but you kept quiet, the shower running steadily, water hitting the tiled floor in a tempo. I waited, until you came out in a towel around your waist, a surprised expression on. I walked out of your room and you said loudly that we're heading out so I decided to wash up at the guest room - a familiar place, unlike his own room. When I look in the mirror, it's terrible to see what I've become in one night. Winter break. Bar party with classmates. It was horrible.
We laughed and drank and talked in loud, rowdy voices as if nothing was wrong when everything was. He looked at her and I looked at him and she looked at the boy with dark blond curls growing down his thick neck and we glanced back to our drinks, letting the rocks hit against the glass, clinkering against each other, eyes subtly saying everything we couldn't say, so no one made eye contact. Little that we know that later the girl would be locking lips with him and I would be there to watch and he would be sighing about his dreams coming true (but they were all lies and I couldn't tell you) and I would be sighing my misery away (but it decided to stay).
I washed up, and when the soap started to get too painful for my eyes I decided it was a sunglasses type of day, and I slipped on a sweater over last night's blouse and jeans and hopefully the coat and scarf was enough to cover up the scent of last night (although it probably reminded me more of how real it was). You were in fresh clothes, looking nothing like last night, except for the dark circles under your eyes, and you wore last night's coat and scarf too, and the lift flashed back memories of me sobbing and you singing while standing against the cold metal casing. But today you stood still and quiet, except for the slow hum of the machine moving and the "Coffee?" that I could only hear because everything else was so quiet. I glanced at your dark eyes for a second and looked away, nodding.
We walked side to side to a place we both knew, closely but not close enough. I wanted to pull his hand closer and lock arms with him but at this point I don't know what he's thinking and although it's probably about Kate I didn't want to give any more impressions that I loved him or anything like that so I ignored the idea. Sitting across from each other in the cafe didn't help, when our knees were almost touching and out feet trying not to knock each other out of the way. Finally we started talking like before and you told me to take off my glasses and although I didn't want to at first I melt at your every word and you tried not to laugh but it's okay because when you laugh I laugh and you're the cutest thing when you do so and I both hate it and love it and you bring out both the darkest and lightest sides of me and I feel miserable knowing you're not mine.
And as we walked back to my place I knew nothing will ever be right but if you walk with me like this everyday maybe I would be miserable but I would be miserable with you and that's fine. Smothered eyeliner and alcohol breaths, were all fine. I would be here and you would be here too. So I gave you a long hug before heading down to my basement apartment, embracing the fact that you are here, now, with me, and not with her, who would eventually break your heart, but I would be there to listen to it shatter.
Green. Blue. White. The colors of your scarf. Black. Black. White. The colors of the night sky. Flashes, flashes. "I'll be fine. See you."
"I'm sorry, but we only allow family members to
visit him at the time being."
Beep.
"Wearehis family members."
"I'm sorry?"
Beep.
Yongguk's sight blurred as he opened his eyelids, the
bright lights on the ceiling blinding him.
Beep.
His eyes caught the shadows of a body in white, dark
brown locks falling over the shoulders. His vision cleared as he blinked a few
times.
"I'm going to have to check on the
doctors..."
"Jieun?"
The girl in white looked down at Yongguk, a look of
surprise in her round, wide eyes. Yongguk's mouth curved at its ends, his thin
lips blue and cracked.
Beep.
"You... Can see me?"
"Why not?" Yongguk asked, breathing slowly.
It hurt a lot, his chest. He felt the hole being covered but it's not filled in
with what used to be flesh. It felt cold and empty, but the bandage helped
slightly. Yongguk tried to move his hand - he tried to hold Jieun's but it was
harder than he thought it would be - and Jieun instinctively held it, coming
closer to the man with a sad smile.
"You're okay." Jieun nodded at Yongguk's
words that sounded more like whispers. "You look so beautiful. You're
okay. You're okay. Okay."
Jieun brought Yongguk's hand up to her face, letting
him hold her face. "You feel cold."
"Must be the air-conditioning." Jieun's
voice cracked slightly.
"Don't cry." It broke Jieun's heart, the
moisture of her eyes threatning to fall over. She held it, breathing in hard to
gain strength. Yongguk's thumb wiped the moisture away.
"So it was worth it."
"What was worth it?"
"Taking the bullet for you."
Jieun gave in to the clear liquid and it ran down her
cheeks, and she sobbed softly, wiping the tears with her other hand. "Yes.
Yes it's worth it."
"You're alive. You're perfect. So
beautiful."
The door to the room clicked open, letting in a tall
blond man and a slightly shorter boy with dark hair following behind. A girl
with dark red hair and dimples was the last to enter, thanking the nurse. The
blond one smiled widely.
"It's about time," Youngjae started, sitting
on the edge of Yongguk's bed. "The others are waiting at the base. The
nurse said you can go back home tomorrow morning, with a few meds."
Youngjae shifted slightly, glancing at Jieun. Jieun looked down at her lap,
letting go of Yongguk's hand.
"Jieun?" Yongguk called, noticing her sudden
uneasiness. The other three looked at each other with confusion.
"Yongguk, are you okay?" Sunhwa asked,
frowning.
"Jieun, how did you get in here?"
Jieun stepped back from Yongguk's bed, not saying
anything.
"Yongguk, what are you talking about?"
Himchan asked.
"How did Jieun get in here?" Yongguk pointed
to where Jieun was, looking at his three friends. Himchan glanced at where
Yongguk pointed, but he wasn't quite looking at where Jieun is. Youngjae looked
at his shoes knowingly. He knew something was weird about the atmosphere.
Something that doesn't belong is here. Yongguk was confused. What is going on?
"Yongguk, Jieun..." Himchan started, looking
at the bed sheets. With a heavy heart, he looked at Yongguk, the smiles from
before gone. "Jieun died that day, remember?"
"What?" Yongguk looked back at where the
girl was, but the shadow of a white dress and dark locks was gone.
Beep... Beep... Beep...
Youngjae looked worryingly at the screen of the
machine by the side of Yongguk's bed. His heartbeat rate is increasing. Sunhwa
came closer to hold Yongguk's hand.
"Yongguk, it's okay. It's going to be okay."
"She was here," Yongguk's voice squeaked
slightly, the tears choking him. "She was here. She held my hand and..
And.. She was okay.. She was so beautiful.."
Sunhwa teared up. "Yes, she was beautiful. She
really was."
Yongguk's heartbeat slowed down.
"Did you see her? Did you see how beautiful she
was?" Yongguk asked, looking at Sunhwa.
"I didn't see her, but I know she's
beautiful."
Yongguk looked back at the ceiling.
"Beautiful."
Himchan and Youngjae looked at each other. They both
sighed. Yongguk has to pull it together if things are to go back as usual. They
both know how much danger they're in right now, and the faster the leader
heals, the better the chances they can get away. But it won't be easy. This is
a huge loss. Not to the rebellion, but to the souls of the members. Jieun held
everyone's heart close to her, and now she had let them go.
Beep.
Yongguk doesn't say anything more, and with everyone's
sorry silence, he dozed off, his eyes closing shut to see Jieun in the
darkness, holding his hand with warmth.
Kyungsoo paced slightly quicker, catching up with the taller. When Jongin did not see him, he decided to lunge his arms over the taller's shoulders, trying to choke him with his forearms but to no avail, pulling Jongin back due to their height difference. Jongin turned around, his eyebrows raised. He laughed slightly and turned back to the front. His steps wobbled a bit when Kyungsoo stopped walking, not letting him go.
"What are you trying to do?"
"I had a bad day. Carry me home," whined Kyungsoo, his arms still over Jongin's shoulders from the back. When Kyungsoo's leg faltered, he dragged Jongin down with him.
"Argh, stop," Jongin told as he bent back, but not doing anything to remove Kyungsoo's arm. Kyungsoo did as he was told, grinning quickly, but pouting again as he moved to Jongin's side. They moved towards the school gates together. "How bad a day did you have?"
"Kinda bad. Suicidal bad. But I guess that's nothing new."
"You scare me," Jongin told. "And I would love to carry you home, but I'd rather carry a chick back home. Sorry."
"Well, that's you," Kyungsoo sighed.
Jongin smiled at the smaller, then he slung his arm over Kyungsoo's shoulders. "Don't take it too badly. Hey, I'll send you Baby Don't Cry's music sheet tonight. You practice that and feel better, okay?"
"Yea, sure," Kyungsoo mumbled. He could smell Jongin's breath as he talked, the handsome face looking down on him and grinning. What did he have for lunch? Kyungsoo wondered. Cheese and ham sandwich? I didn't have lunch with him, so who did?
As they walked pass groups of students crowding the front gate, Jongin released his arm so that they could walk by faster. Jongin smiled at a few people who greeted him. Kyungsoo wondered if he was holding Jongin back. Maybe he wanted to talk to those people. In the distance, Kyungsoo spotted a familiar face. He knew the kid from his vocals class - not exactly the best vocalist but his looks made him popular - and he saw Jongin hang out with the kid once in awhile. They looked close the few times Kyungsoo saw them together; laughing at private jokes and sharing water from the same bottle. Kyungsoo wondered if Jongin had lunch with him.
"So like, you know that Sehun kid?" Kyungsoo asked softly, afraid the owner of the name heard him.
"Yea," Jongin said, then paused for awhile. He guessed Kyungsoo wanted an explanation, although what for he was not sure. "He's in my dance class."
Jongin looked at Kyungsoo, wondering if that was enough, but the other was not looking at him. Instead, he was staring uncomfortably at Sehun, his eyes wide and unreadable as usual. Does Kyungsoo not like him? Did Sehun do something wrong to him? Before a 'why' slipped out of Jongin's mouth, Kyungsoo stopped in his tracks, right before they passed Sehun.
"I'm waiting for the bus," Kyungsoo told.
"Oh okay then," Jongin said. "See you later." They both knew Jongin walked back. They knew a lot about each other that did not need to be mentioned. Plus Kyungsoo was not much of a talker, so Kyungsoo presumed they were okay with silent moments between the two. Jongin admitted the knowing look on Kyungsoo's face and the silent wave with a smile before he left was something special - something he could only do with Kyungsoo - but he felt a slight relief not having to think of what to say anymore or if he should say anything at all. Sehun was fun to be around - new and full of surprise, like a video game he just started playing. He called to Sehun as he passed by, and Sehun's blank face turned into a toothy smile. Jongin punched Sehun's stomach lightly then ran away. Sehun motioned to hit him, an arm over his abdomen. But instead he just laughed, his feet not moving away.
Kyungsoo watched from the edge of his eyes as Jongin walked the opposite way while looking back at Sehun, grinning widely. He stopped looking. Soon the bus came and he got on, and so did Sehun. Sehun bumped into an acquaintance and started chatting with her. Kyungsoo noticed their loud conversation, plugging his headphones on. The world seemed further away with music that he kept to himself. He watched the people in the bus - couples, friends, old women with their grocery baskets, Sehun and the girl. And then there was him.
Later that evening, Kyungsoo stared at his laptop screen. He had one foot up on the seat, his back leaning on the rest. He needed to finish an assignment, but his thoughts were not in control. He cannot seem to concentrate before he thinks about something else - that book on his reading list, that new album by an artist he wanted to listen to, the Baby Don't Cry sheet, Sehun, Jongin. He loved and cared for Jongin, he really did. Although the handsome factor was the main reason Kyungsoo was attracted to Jongin, the two got to know each other non-romantically and Kyungsoo was okay with that. In comparison to their three year friendship, who was Sehun? Sehun is a new kid. His friendship must matter more to Jongin than Sehun's, right? Kyungsoo admitted his old crush must be affecting how he thinks and cares about Jongin, but the realization does not make it stop.
He wiped his face with one hand from forehead down, his eyes closing for a second. He blinked, trying to refresh himself like he does with his desktop page. It does not work the same though. He decided to check his email. He remembered scribbling his email address on Jongin's notebook. Did Jongin notice it? He typed in the website address and the with two letters Chrome immediately found out where he wanted to go to. He pressed two buttons on the keyboard and his email was unveiled. One unread mail in his inbox - untitled, with an attachment. Kyungsoo smiled at the name of the sender.
I slipped the thin strap into a buckle of the shoe around my
ankle, looking up at the man in front of me. He had black slacks on, a blue
shirt and a black coat over it. His tie was undone under the collar of his
shirt. He looked outside to see if anyone was around. I stood up, pulling my
pale red dress down to remove any wrinkles. I looked myself in the mirror by
the door while stabilizing myself on the three inch heels and checked out my
hair. The sun from outside highlighted it a burning fire. My pale skin was
smooth, my cheeks brushed pink and my lips were coloured a somewhat pinkish
red. The thin strap of my dress revealed an obvious collarbone - what I get
after bulimia. The scar on my shoulder blade where my father placed the end of
a burning cigarette butt was just as obvious.
I looked at the man near the door. He was
staring at me, his eyes an unreadable black. His nose was slightly bent, his
lips not too thin but not too thick. I wish he would smile more often, but the
only times I've seen him smile is when I refuse his offerings of a smoke. He
was good looking, but he looked even better when he smiles. His black hair was
slightly unruly, so I went to him to comb it back a bit with my fingers. He
didn't move, his eyes locked on me.
"You feeling okay?" he asked.
"I'll be fine."
"If you need me-"
"You'll be here. Four till ten. Got
it."
He let out a sigh. I hadn't known this man
for more than two months but I like him more than anyone else I've known my
entire life. He listens. He doesn't say anything, which I won't say is the only
thing I need, but it's comforting at times. When I don't seek advice but a
listening ear, I come here. Things go further but we don't discuss it.
I don't know what he does for a living,
but he has to have a job to afford a place like this and such nice clothes. The
house isn't the fanciest I've seen, but it was considerably big for a stop-by
place. I know I had never lived in such a building. Double storey, three
bedrooms and two bathrooms, a working stove and a six foot fridge.
I never asked what he does. By the looks
of it I probably shouldn't, because I saw him load his gun once before slipping
it into his suitcase when he thought I wasn't looking. It was dark, and I heard
clicking in the cold air. I turned around in the white sheets, keeping my eyes
closed. There was a pause, but when I heard him opening the zip I peeked
through my eyelids. He kept the bag under the bedside table and went back to
bed. His cheeks had a glinting line, what I thought looked like a tear stain.
He stared at the ceiling and whispered to himself, "I can't do this."
I have no idea what I'm doing; being here
with him almost every night, leaving behind my own house, my family. They don't
know. They best not know. They have marriage planned for me.
"Do you have a life?" I asked
him once. I was wearing only his shirt while getting myself a glass of O.J. He
was sitting in a sofa in front of the TV, flipping through the channels,
uninterested, clothed with a white t-shirt and shorts.
"It depends on your definition of
life," he replied, landing on the news. "I got things figured out,
but it's not exactly what I'd call living."
"So you're settled in?" I asked,
walking towards him.
"I guess you can say that." I
sat next to him, folding my legs on the seat and resting my head on his
shoulder. The cold skin of my thighs touch my calves, making me shiver.
"Why? You're not?"
"I can survive," I tell him.
"But I have no freedom. I'm not happy."
"You can't expect being happy to be
easy."
"You can strive for it though."
He turned slightly to look at me through
my red hair, then he turned back to rest his cheek on my head. "Have you
thought of a way?"
"By setting this whole city on
fire."
"How do we do that?"
"Pour kerosene everywhere. Poke holes
into the tyres of firetrucks. Then we light that fancy lighter of yours."
"You have an idea how we'll get all
that kerosene?"
"You're rich. I'm sure you can get to
it."
He snickered. I wish I saw his face,
because I'm sure he looked better than the straight face with the slanted
eyebrows I usually see when I get here. "I'm not rich, but okay, what will
we do after that?"
"We run."
He didn't say anything. I took his hand
and observed it. There were so many cuts; deep lines that went across his palm,
a long stitch scar on the back and his phalanges protruding against the
pink-tinted skin. I stroked the back side slightly with my thumb, and he gently
grasped onto my hands.
The white light from the small crack of the only
window in the underground room woke Youngjae from his slumber, his eyelids
fluttering. His eyebrows scrunched on his forehead as he raised his body from
the floor. The dirty sheets that kept him warm that night fell against his lap,
dust floating in the air. The basement scented of iron and rotting food, but the
boy in a white t-shirt and shorts could only think of one person.
“Hana,” he whispered as his mind came back from his
dreams. He dreamt of him and Hana running and laughing on the beach, their feet
sinking in the soft sand below them as the sun sets. He pushed away the sheets
to see a girl beside him, her legs folded near her chest, her eyes shut. Her
chestnut hair fell over her face, only an oversized shirt clothing her.
“Wake up, Hana,” Youngjae shook the girl gently. Her
slanted eyes opened slowly, her pupils moving towards Youngjae.
“Go,” she told him before she pulled back the sheets
above her head.
“Do you want something for breakfast? Tea? I can’t
remember if we have anymore sugar though, but I’ll try to scrape whatever’s
left,” Youngjae asked, his eyes endearing.
“I’m not hungry.” Hana’s voice muffled through the
sheets.
“Yea, me neither,” Youngjae smiled. “Just being with
you keeps me alive.”
Hana did not answer. After awhile, she removed the
sheets and got up, her eyes looking straight into Youngjae’s. He took up
whatever energy he had left to caress Hana’s cheek with his thumb. He moved in
for a kiss, but the girl looked away.
“You can’t do this anymore.”
“I can’t leave you, Hana.”
“You need to stay alive.”
“I’m fine just being with you,” Youngjae reassured.
“No you’re not.”
Hana took Youngjae’s hand, raising it high so that he
can his wrist, where scars of when he placed a razor blade against it can be
seen, his bones protruding against a pale skin. Just then, the door on the
higher end of a staircase started thumping. Heavy fists knocked on the other
side, instructing Youngjae to open the door.
“Hana, you have to hide,” Youngjae whispered
frantically, fear in his eyes as he tried to pull the dirty sheets over Hana’s
head. The girl pushed him away, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“It’s over, Youngjae. This is only for your own good,”
she sobbed softly. Youngjae wrapped the sheets around her body. “You need to
stay alive.”
“Shh,” Youngjae told her, holding her tight in his
arms. “I’m here, don’t worry. Shh.”
The metal hinges flew apart as the door fell down the
stairs. Figures came over to Youngjae to take him away, unraveling his grasps
from the bloody corpse of his lover he had wrapped with the sheets.
“No, Hana!”
Youngjae screamed as the men pulled his arms. “Hana! Don’t take me away from
her!!!”
I twirled the white rose's stem in my hand, smiling to myself as I take slow steps towards my destination. I was wearing a cream coloured sleeveless dress that reached slightly above my knee, a black ribbon tied at my waist. My brown purse was slung against my right shoulder. I may look silly with my eyes lost in my own dreams, wandering about as my thoughts floated only about Baro.
He told me, as he gave me this single stem, that legend says if I bring a white rose to the neighbourhood's church garden, it will turn red in the presence of your beloved one. And if not, it will wilt with time. I'm not sure if its true but knowing Baro, he would do anything to make it happen. Thinking of this trait of his made me smile to myself again, so I quicken my steps to avoid stares. I can't wait to see him anyway.
As I placed my foot through the back entrance of the garden, I took a admiring glance at the view. The garden was full of colours - carpeted with green grass, greener than I've ever seen anywhere else. Flowers bloomed everywhere in the form of bushes, along with small pots of various known ones like sunflowers and orchids edging them. In one corner there was a table with a few stools along its sides and at the sides of the garden near the bushes were long benches. I went towards it and took a seat.
I stared back at my white rose. It didn't turn red, but it didn't wilt neither. Probably the legend was wrong. I looked around to see if Baro had left any hints that he was here. There was no one - just me. Suddenly the wooden door that acted as the entrance opened and closed by itself. I felt eerie and the hair behind my neck stood, but I took that it was just the wind.
I'm here!
Where is he?
Bomi? I'm here. Bomi? Can't you see me?
After what felt like hours, I sighed. He stood me up. He lied to me. I felt tears prickling and gathering at my lids, but I refused to let it fall. I started towards the door.
Bomi! I'm here! Right in front of you! Why...?
I swung open the wooden entrance but then I felt a tug at my right wrist behind me. I looked back and see the rose that was still in my hand. It was red.
The tears I tried to stop finally fell and my fingers let the red rose slip. Why? How could it have turned red?
Because I'm here. But not me. My soul.
My eyes blurred from the tears and my vision started to make my mind go blur too. I left the garden - and the rose - and walked back home, avoiding myself from looking up. I couldn't let people see me cry. How pathetic.
I was about to cross a road when someone grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back. I looked up and saw a boy with small, kind eyes smiling down at me. His smile seemed sincere, but with a hint of pity when he saw me. But he didn't ask questions.
"You were about to walk into an investigation scene," he told me, looking towards the road.
"Huh?" I followed his eyes, and saw something I didn't even notice was right in front of me. An ambulance had its red blinking lights on, but its siren was quiet. Various nurses and policemen gathered, asking questions towards a man who had guilt written all over his expression. He seemed frustrated. Somewhere further up the road was a minivan, its wheels trailing up a line of blood on the road. People gathered and left, shaking their heads at the scene. Just before the nurses wrapped the victim's body with a white cloth, I got a glance of his face.
Baro.
I cupped my mouth, feeling the urge to scream. My feet moved by itself towards the scene. The boy tried to stop me again, but I pushed away his hands. The nurses looked at me curiously as I moved pass them and towards the body. The policemen were about to stop me but I had already slipped my hands at the white cloth and revealed his face. It had blood streaming down his soft cheeks, now pale and cold. His round nose. His hair that was in a mess, just the way it was the first time I met him at an inter-school football match. I fell on my knees, sobbing loudly. Baro was there. He was my beloved one.
A couple of days after, they had his funeral at the church we were supposed to meet. I attended it with a strong heart. I hadn't cried since that night. But when they went to bury his body I decided to stay behind. Instead, I went to the garden to look for my rose.
It was there, untouched on the grass floor. I observed its condition as I picked it up. It had wilted, petals dark at its edges and the stem thin of dehydration. But I wasn't sure if it was because of nature itself or if it was because Baro had left the garden, leaving me to move on without him.
"I have a disease," she told me plainly. "Probably, you've never heard of it. It's a mental disorder where I hear things. I see things. Things that don't exist. And they tell me things... truths no one bothered to see."
We were two of the few. The few broken ones. We broke, but we fixed each other. I love her. And I will stay with her till the end.
I gave her a hug. "I'll be with you. Don't worry about it."
---
We fled.
We finally did it. We left our lives for a better one. Although he promised sweet things, I had never trusted him one hundred percent. I know he will leave me. The voices said so too. But I won't leave him. I'll be prepared when he goes, but I won't leave him.
He's my only chance of surviving.
"Remember the first time we met?" he smirked, holding me tight around the waist, his chin on my should. The wind blew through out hair, the cold air sticky on our cheeks. I was relaxed. I had control over the broom. It's been awhile since.
"Wasn't long ago," I replied. "About five months?"
"Six," he said. "Six months, a week and four days."
"Why me?"
There was a silence. In that moment, I didn't feel so powerful anymore. The light and floating feeling on the broom felt slightly dragged by gravity. He held me tighter. I wasn't sure if it was because he didn't want to fall or because he didn't want me to fall.
"There's no reason to fate," he whispered. "It happened. I was there. You were there. No reason."
"He's lying!"
"He's lying!"
"He's only using you!"
"He'll leave when he's done!"
"HE'S LYING!"
The voices deafened me, my ears started to ring, as if it was bleeding. I lost control of the broom, my grip on the stick slowly loosening. I heard him calling my name, but all I saw was a blur of lights against the dark night sky, the voices taking over my sense. Soon, my sight was pitch black, and all I hear was a high-pitched ring...
And his voice calling...
"Carmen!"
---
It wasn't easy finding shelter. I felt so stupid. I should've thought this through. Instead we just went without much money on us, and little care.
Thankfully we fell into a tree, although we did get a few scratches no bones were broken. The broom was forgotten as I slowly let her down first, although it was hard since she was passed out. I tried my best to not hurt her, but she did land with a thump. I jumped down and got her up, quick on my feet before anyone around the area woke up from the noise.
I found a bridge and got under it. It was clean enough to hang around for tonight. I washed her cuts and let her rest against the wall of the bridge, then I washed myself. Tired, I laid on her lap, looking up at her chin. She looks to tired. We both are. It must be harder for her. I cannot leave her. Never. I have to save her from those thoughts. I need to clear them away.
Soon, my eyes shut. By the time they opened, I felt a cold liquid drop on my cheek.
"I'm sorry."
I reached out for her face and cupped her cheeks, wiping away the transparent liquid. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
"I'm s-sorry..." she sniffed, biting her lower lip. Then, letting go a huff of breath she closed her eyes, letting more tears run down her cheeks. She's... in pain?
"I'm sorry..." she whispered, not opening her eyes.
I got up, my eyes scanning through her face, then through her body. Then I saw red. Red liquid. Blood, all over her right hand, holding weakly onto a stone. Blood, all over her left forearms. Blood, all over my shirt and her dress.
I look at her face. Her eyes finally opened slightly, weak. "I don't think I can anymore... The thoughts are killing me... I would rather go myself..."
I shushed her, coming over to wrap her with my arms. I removed the stone from her grasp, and placed both hands together on her lap. She sniffed a bit more. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too." I rested my forehead on her head, smelling the scent of her hair. I didn't want to ever let her go. Slowly, the sniffing stopped and I felt that she found it hard to breath. She closed her eyes, the last tear running quick down her stained cheeks. Then I hear her last breath.
Her face was a faded grey, shaded from the sunlight that came from the window behind her. She couldn't see it, but her hair looked a bronze in that light. It looked so smooth, I moved my hands slowly to touch it. But I was careless and woke her up from slumber. Her eyelids fluttered and closed, then her eyebrows scrunched itself in confusion.
"Good morning," I said.
She turned her face - eyelids still shut - towards me and came closer, looking for warmth. "Were you staring at me sleeping? That's creepy, you know."
"You're too pretty," I told her, slightly joking in the sincirity. She didn't say anything, but instead she smiled slightly before burying her face in my shoulder. I pulled her closer and felt the warmth from her back and the chill from her arms. It was odd, but she was beautiful like that.
"I wonder how you can look in the mirror and not ponder on how pretty you are," I told her.
"Because all I see are my flaws," she whispered.
It made me slightly uncomfortable - as if she felt insecure, but the reason I was here was to make her feel better. To feel safe - no matter where she is or who she's with or who she is. So I touched her face, brushing her cheeks - slightly rough from the acne in her adolescent years, but warm to touch with my cold fingers - and told her "Your flaws are pretty too."
---
Just a little drabble.
It was a hot day outside. Typical summer day. R lay down on her bed with the white sheets and the sunlight was streaming down onto her face through the window blinds. She sighed. It was hot and a bead of sweat ran down her forehead. She didn’t switch on the fan,she was way too lazy for that. She was,in fact,way too lazy for anything. She was trying to fall asleep,but her mind was too active for that. She hated this. She hated being bored and lazy.
Eventually R decided to get up and be productive. It wasn’t always that she got to stay at her grandfather’s house,after all. Her parents had abandoned her – well,they really just wanted her to stay there while they were on their third honeymoon trip (in Bali,this time. They decided not to go to Europe anymore ever since this one incident where R’s parents got separated for 3 days. R honestly didn’t know what difference Bali,Indonesia would make,but whatever) but to R it felt like abandonment - and she was stuck at her grandfather’s place in Somerset for 6 weeks.
Somerset was a nice place to live in. It was peaceful and the houses were well-kept and looked like they belonged to people who were in a profession that certainly paid well. Her grandfather’s house was no exception,of course. R wasn’t even sure whether she should even call it a house,since it was practically a mansion. Her grandfather’s mansion was a huge three storey building and it had an enormous garden,where flowers grew beautifully. There was a small pond with koi fish in it on the east side. There were gardeners who attended to the garden,of course. Her grandfather could definitely afford gardeners.
As of the moment,her grandfather wasn’t home. He was at a meeting somewhere,maybe. She didn’t really know and honestly,it didn’t make much of a difference. He was always in his study room on the third floor,anyway. Her room was on the first,so the only times they would meet were during mealtimes. But her grandfather wasn’t a cold,quiet man. He was actually very warm and friendly and always had a smile on his face. Her grandfather reminded her of Kenny Rogers.
She went down the stairs and walked the whole length of the living room downstairs to get to the front door. The living room was her second favourite place in the mansion,after her bedroom. It had a great view of the part of the garden where all the roses grew. She got to the front door,which was huge wooden one,with a brass handle and walked out.
All the way to the gate,R passed more rose bushes. Her grandfather seemed to like roses – or rather,her grandmother liked them,since after the gardeners her grandmother attended to the garden most. Her grandmother was a soft-spoken woman and usually spent her day indoors taking siestas. Lots of siestas.
R was pulled back as her grey cardigan got caught among the rose bushes. She had to disentangle it,and as she did,she brought a red rose close to her and smelled it. Roses were great,she thought. Beautiful and they smell nice too. It was no wonder,really,that her grandparents had a lot of these rose bushes in their garden. She didn’t want to flatter herself,but she guessed that there was another reason these beautiful flowers were abundant here.
Krystal was in the passenger’s seat of Taemin’s car when she
took out her compact powder from her purse and started checking her make-up. The
night was young and she wasn’t done having fun in the club yet – even if Sehun
decided not to join them. She decided her lipstick need some refurbishing, so
she took out her usual pinkish-red shade and reapplied. She checked her
reflection again through the rear mirror of the car and got a glimpse of a
shadow at the back seat.
A drip of blood streamed down from Sehun’s temple to his
cheeks as he stares at her blankly.
Krystal’s face was wet with sweat when she woke up on her
bed, her breathing quick and not stable. Her head filled with the image of
Sehun’s blank look. She shook it off, almost on the brink of letting her brain
flop out so that she will never remember that image again. It was just a bad dream, Krystal told herself.
She noticed it was still late at night. She glanced to her
side to see Sehun in deep sleep beside her. They were in Krystal’s apartment.
Krystal could barely remember what happened last night, but she trusted her
boyfriend. Nothing bad could ever happen – Sehun was responsible and
protective. He would never hurt Krystal. She went back to his side, feeling
safe. He moved a bit, but didn’t wake up. Krystal went back to sleep with a
smile – a nice dream of soft clouds and bright days where the grass looked
greener than usual accompanying her.
The next morning when Krystal woke up, the air filled with
the smell of blueberry pancakes. She looked beside her and Sehun wasn’t there.
The window was open, the bright sunlight coming through and lighted up her
room. The translucent curtains flew about aimlessly, bringing fresh air that brings
a smile to Krystal’s just-awoken face. She rubbed her eyes a bit and got up,
pushing her covers away. She glanced at the kitchen from the side of her
bedroom door. Sehun was in an apron, a t-shirt and boxers under it. He winced
at some burnt pancakes that he just placed on a plate stacked with similar
looking circulars. Krystal laughed a bit under her breath. She pulled on an
over-sized t-shirt before coming out to greet the boy.
“Burnt dough for breakfast?” Krystal teased.
“It’s the best I could do,” Sehun told, a small smirk
forming on the corner of his blank expression.
“Well I’d eat it all,” Krystal told, walking towards some cupboards
to take a fork.
“Please do,” Sehun said as he placed his hands on the
counter behind Krystal, cornering her from escape. She looked at him lazily,
and he smiled playfully as he lowers his head a little to place his lips on
hers. She kissed him back, pushing him back slightly. They made out a little
until Krystal sat Sehun on one of the chairs of the dining table. She went back
to the kitchen to pour some O.J. for the two of them.
“You taste like last night,” Sehun commented.
“What did we do last night anyway?” Krystal asked, sincerely
not remembering at all. Her head was blank – all she could remember was the bad
dream, mixed together with the smell of Sehun’s shirt and the green grass. She
took the two glasses of O.J. with one hand, expertly placing her fingers so
that it won’t slip from her grasp, and the other hand bringing the plate of
burnt pancakes with two forks on its edge. Then she walked towards the dining table,
appealed by how good her boyfriend looked with sunlight falling on the side of
his face from the window nearby.
“I don’t know, what do you think we did last night?” Sehun
smirked as he looked at Krystal, his eyes dropping from her eyes to the
pancakes. Krystal found that answer a bit odd. She was expecting something more
straight forward from Sehun. Something like “How can you not remember?” but it
slipped off her mind.
The two didn’t say much after that. Their right hands were
holding forks, cutting and popping a piece of the pancakes into their mouth.
Their left hands were on the table, trailing each other’s fingers. They only
let go when the other needed to take a sip of the orange drink. Then they’d
rejoin and start touching each other again.
“Well, you can still taste the blueberry,” Sehun commented
as Krystal finished off the last piece. Krystal only smiled and squeezed his left
hand a little. She didn’t just taste the blueberry – she also tasted a sense of
sincerity. And that was all that mattered.
“Where are we going
today?” Krystal asked, her sunglasses halfway down the bridge of her nose. Her
long straight hair flew softly when the slow wind blew it. She wore a loose
blouse, letting the hole for the head fall down her shoulders and sleeves
hanging on her elbows. Her denim shorts did little in covering her slim legs.
Beside her, Sehun wore a green shirt, the buttons carelessly done, showing the
wife beater under it. His cap was placed backwards, pushing his fringe back. He
held Krystal’s hands tightly as they walked down the street of her apartment
building.
“Nowhere,” he answered.
Krystal almost laughed. She held back a smile as she replied
“What a wonderful place to visit.”
“It is,” Sehun said, going further with the joke. “A place
with no care – I’d love to live there.”
“Then being with you is like being
nowhere.”
Sehun looked at his girlfriend,
and she looked back, smiling. “To not care. Not caring about anything else
other than you. That’s what it feels like.”
Sehun caressed Krystal’s face,
his thumb wiping her smooth cheeks. When he looked into Krystal’s eyes, she
felt a bit funny. The eyes didn’t seem as lazy as it usually does. Instead it
looked a bit sad. Slightly regretful. Her smile slowly faded away, but the two
kept walking down the street without saying a word, hand in hand. Even the
warmth of Sehun’s hands felt different.
“How’d you like the movie?” Sehun asked when they walked out
of the cinema. It was a romantic comedy, and every time it got to a soppy scene
Krystal would rest her head on Sehun’s broad shoulder. Once he turned over to
kiss her head. Krystal didn’t really concentrate on the movie, and they both
knew it.
“I like that part when you rested your head on mine,”
Krystal said bluntly.
“It wasn’t in the movie,” Sehun told, chuckling.
“Still my favourite part.”
“Wanna go back now?” Sehun asked as they ordered some frozen
yogurt for snacks.
“Sure, why not?” Krystal said. “Back to nowhere.”
“Do you know why humans only have one heart, on the left
side?” Krystal asked when they were in bed together, doing nothing but lying
down, staring at the blank ceiling. Their hands were clasped together, as
usual.
“No, why?” Sehun replied.
“So that when two hearts that beat together come closer, the
two would be one.” Krystal turned sideways, observing Sehun’s facial structures
– his high nose, his slanted eyes. He turned to look at hers – her wide eyes,
her sharp nose and pretty lips.
“I don’t get it.”
“Like this,” Krystal said, moving closer and wrapping her
arms around Sehun’s waist. He slung his around her. “Can you feel my heart
beat?”
“Slightly.”
“On your right chest, right? It beats together with yours,
on the left.”
Sehun didn’t tell Krystal that they didn’t beat together. His
was slightly off-track, beating a millisecond after hers.
“I just want to be close to you, Sehun.” Krystal told,
burying her face in his chest. Sehun jerked a little at the sound of his name.
He loosened his grip on Krystal, his hands slowly making its way to Krystal’s
face. He pushed it upwards, so that she would face him. Sehun’s eyes weren’t
slanted. It was wide and alive. His clean-cut dark brown hair was now replaced
with a slightly over-grown chestnut coloured hair, and his lips were plump and
his nose was round.
It wasn’t Sehun. It never was. It was Taemin.
Krystal pulled back, her heart dropping to her stomach. The
playful response to her question. The sad and regretful eyes. His hair looked
nice in the sunlight – because it was a chestnut shade, glowing. Tears formed a
layer on Krystal’s eye sockets as she remembered what they were doing
yesterday. They visited Sehun, Kai and Sulli’s graves. Then they went for a
drink and ended up passing out as they made out in bed. They were depressed and
lonely, even with each other’s company. They would have their good days, but
every night they would end up crying to sleep.
But today, Sehun came back. Only, it wasn’t Sehun. It was a
delusion. And it broke Krystal’s heart to know he’s never coming back for real.
“T-Taemin…” Krystal said as she started to sob. Taemin
shushed her gently, pulling her into his chest. He can’t help but tear up too.
Slowly, he had fallen for Krystal. But Krystal could never forget Sehun. All he
can do is protect Krystal, but he can’t even mend her broken soul.
Taemin pulled Krystal
closer as the sobbing became heavier. He didn’t say anything. Krystal
eventually slept – not because of Taemin’s protection, but because she sensed
Sehun hugging her from the back. He kept her safe, and their hearts beat
together as one.
Taemin
isn’t sure what he’s doing at
the edge of a cliff when Krystal found him. It’s the place he and his four
friends used to hang out. A lonely aging tree nearby still bears some leaves in
this early autumn time. During spring, the five of them would bring food, books, and games. They
would listen to music and just hang out until the mornings and they would watch
sunrise and fall asleep against each other’s shoulders until early afternoons,
when the sun would be too hot for them to stay out. But that was spring. Many
things can change in between seasons. Apparently, what happened to the five of
them is too quick for Taemin to grasp with the tips of his fingers, and it
slips away just like that.
As Taemin
turns to look at Krystal, shadows of Sehun’s face hover in his eyes. He looks
away – back to the blackness of the night sky. He feels calm just by looking at
the emptiness – the stars would never come out what with the bright city lights
underneath them. But he’s used to
it. How can he miss something he’s never seen?
“Don’t you
get bored? There’s nothing here anymore,” Krystal states out, breaking the
peace and quiet. Her earrings are dangling in the soft breeze, brushing her
shoulders as she looks down at the brittle ground. It felt homier with all five
of them there, laughter in the air, the sun burning red and orange in the noon.
Krystal didn’t want to come here – she knew she’d cry at one point if she did.
But so far she’s been strong.
Thunders
roar up ahead. The clouds have been hanging in the sky for days, grey and
heavy. They were expecting this, so the two don’t say a word about it.
“There’s
their reminiscence though,” Taemin replies, his eyes scanning the clouds for
nothing. “I… I miss them.”
*
The
beautiful flowers bloomed with the essence of spring. Taemin’s mini truck
rushed through the highway road, colourful flowers squeezing in every space in
the car that didn’t have a human on it. They left their windows open, so that
the petals would fly behind them, making a trail. Krystal looked out the
window, half her torso poking out of the car to see how evenly the petals fell
on the black tar. She removed her round sunglasses to see the colourful petals
lighting up the road. She laughed and pulled herself back in.
“Whose idea
is this again?”
“Although I’d love to take the credit for
this ingenious plan, I have to admit that derpface here did quite a good job
this time,” Kai commented from the other side of the back seat. In between Kai
and Krystal was Sehun, grinning to himself as he looked at the road in front of
him. Sulli, who was sitting on the passenger seat next to Taemin looked at the
three through the rear mirror, her face red and smiling.
“Aw, my
boyfie planned all this out?” Krystal asked, holding Sehun’s face by the chin
to turn it around so he would face her.
“I’m so
proud of you!” she said, pecking his lips. He pecked hers back.
“You
should’ve known your boy a little better,” was all he said.
“Okay, well
I think I should be credited for the driving?” Taemin piped in. Everyone
groaned and laughed. Kai pushed his head a little.
“You’re the
only with a licence, bro,” he said. “If I could drive then this car would be
flying right now. Speed up!”
“Can’t, my
friend. We’re on a free and easy trip today. So let’s take it easy.” Taemin
pressed the paddle a little harder, making the old car jumped a little then
smoothly speeding up, causing even some stems to fall out of the car. Sulli
held on the handle near the window, squealing. Sehun passed more flowers to
Krystal, sneaking a stem behind her ear. Kai screamed out of his window, and
Krystal followed, letting the wind eat up her bouquet of flowers out of the
window.
They were
young. They had no commitments. They were free. So they had fun.
But how far
can they live with just fun?
*
“There’s nothing
we can do,” Krystal tells Taemin, coming up next to him, looking at his face.
Taemin doesn’t budge. He can’t look at her. The guilt will eat him up.
“It’s the
past and we have to move on.”
“It’s a bit
hard when they were the only reason I had to move on.” The thunders and
lightning start to grow in amount, the grey clouds increasing in size.
Taemin
remembers coming back to an empty home. He has no parents. No siblings. He was
alone.
But he had
his friends.
*
“Don’t
worry man, I got your back.”
That is what
Taemin said when Kai told him he had a crush on Sehun. But he couldn’t admit
that he was gay. It was only Sehun; had always been the only one. Now Sehun had
Krystal and he couldn’t do anything about it.
“It feels
different,” Kai said, his plump lips slowly separating after a long silence.
“To finally let go of something and be sure of what had been playing in your
mind.”
“I wish I could
understand,” Taemin told him. They were watching the red sunset under the old
tree. Sulli was sleeping at the back seat of Taemin’s car, while Krystal and
Sehun had been listening to some music through the same earphones until they
fell asleep on the matted ground.
“But I
don’t think I’ll ever feel like that.”
*
Unsure and
contemplative. Taemin has always been like this.
Even now
with Krystal trying to twine their hands together, he’s still unsure whether
she’s just an illusion or if she’s real. He finally doesn’t fight anymore, and
lets Krystal’s slim fingers slip in between his. Krystal looks up at his face
again and he doesn’t fight the urge to look at her. Her eyes search for
something that she can’t find in his.
“Don’t do
this to yourself," Krystal said.
“What
are you doing about it?”
*
Ever since
the incident, Krystal has been trying to keep herself away from any memory of
the five of them being together. Since the streets of Seoul and anywhere else
they had been to in South Korea remind her of them, she moved away to America
to live with her parents for three months. Not until she heard about Kai
hanging himself did she come back. She knows Taemin needs her.
*
“So he did
it here?” A thunder roars and a drop of rain falls on Krystal’s nose.
“At that tree
right there.” Taemin looks away again. “Why out of all places. Just when I
thought we’d finally have some place to remember we were happy…” he trails off,
his eyes starting to get wet and his throat starting to dry. Krystal tightens
her grip. When Taemin cries, she can’t. She knows she has to be strong.
*
“You’re not
coming to the club with me?” Krystal asked Sehun over the phone.
“Sorry, not
really feeling it tonight,” Sehun said, stretching from the lower bunk of the bed
he shared with Kai.
“Yeah, I
have a feeling you won’t really mind if I flirted with other guys,” Krystal
retorted.
“Krystal, please
don’t,” Sehun plead.
“Yeah sure
Sehunnie, you know I won’t,” Krystal bit her lip, avoiding herself from smiling
stupidly. “I’m just gonna dance to a few songs and head back home.”
“I don’t
have to worry right?”
“Nope,”
Krystal smiled. “Love you.”
“Love you
too.”
That was
the night it happened.
*
“I
shouldn’t have gone without Se—“
“Don’t say
his name.”
The rain
gains weight and drizzles above their heads, wetting their hair and clothes,
drops landing on their faces. Kai wasn’t the first in Taemin’s priority list.
Although they had promised each other ‘bros over hoes’, the girl Taemin fell
for was no hoe.
*
Taemin
looked at her glinting eyes, her smile sincere and her bangs giving a hidden
personality look. And she did have a hidden personality. Although Sulli was
quiet and didn’t say much, she laughed heartily with her beautiful voice. She
would play her favourite songs every time the five of them fell into silence in
the car and she would start singing. And everyone would just listen. She was a
natural charmer. And Taemin had always seen it since grade school.
But she
didn’t see him.
“Oppa!” her
voice rang through Taemin’s ears. Sulli was referring to a close friend of hers
through the phone. She obviously had something for him – the way her eyes grew
slightly bigger every time his name came out on her phone screen, and how her
voice was always gentle and small when she talked to him. Taemin could only
watch. Then when he felt that pain in his chest, he would look away.
*
“Sulli…”
Krystal
doesn’t say anything. She hears Taemin’s voice hoarsely saying it. She sighs.
“We can’t go on like this.”
“Why are
you pretending like we did nothing wrong?!” Taemin finally screams. He looks at
Krystal furiously, his eyes are red from trying to stop the tears. The rain
makes it hard to tell the difference between his tears and raindrops. Krystal
doesn’t say anything. That night was too hard for him. But it was just as hard
for her.
*
“A few more
shots?” Taemin raised a glass at the bar and Krystal lifted up hers, already
giggling from the alcohol. Taemin spotted Krystal alone on the dance floor and
pulled her to the side when some men starting pinching her butt. Now they were
drunk, not realizing the time, and forgetting about their lovers.
Krystal’s
body hit the wall of Taemin’s house as he kissed her lips hard, licking her
upper lip once in awhile. Krystal’s right hand was on the back of Taemin’s
head, pushing him in for more. Her left hand reached out to undo his belt.
*
“Do you
think I wanted things to turn out like that?!” Krystal shouts over the thunder.
The rain is getting heavier and their clothes and hair are getting from wet to
soaked through.
“Why did
you go away?! Why did you run?!” Taemin shouts back.
*
“You’re not
going to the club with Krystal tonight?” Kai asked as he was about to walk out
of the door, going to get some dinner.
“Tonight my
friend,” Sehun said, his arm swinging over Kai’s shoulders. “Tonight we’ve got
a plan.”
*
“I won’t be
here anymore if I stayed!” Krystal screams.
*
“You’re
going to propose to her?” Kai asked. His stomach fell. His throat felt a bit
dry.
“Yet
another ingenious idea from the derpface.”
“Are you
sure about this bro?”
Their
doorbell rang and Sehun went to get it. It was Sulli.
“You ready
to go ring shopping?” Sulli asked.
Kai’s jaw
dropped. Sehun looked at him apologetically. “So, you coming?”
Kai took a
few seconds to swallow all of this in. Later he decided that he should start
moving on. He couldn’t hold on to Sehun forever. “I’ll get Taemin’s keys.”
*
“But I was
all alone,” Taemin sobs, the rain falling on his face. A lightning flashes
above them to give the two a short glimpse of each other in the night’s
darkness. It is followed by another thunder. Krystal looks at Taemin with
regret.
“I’m
sorry.”
*
Krystal’s
blouse was on the floor of Taemin’s house, along with empty pizza boxes, random
comic books and the boxers he was wearing that night. Taemin was kissing
Krystal’s neck when suddenly his phone rang.
“Sulli.”
Krystal
jumped up from Taemin’s bed.
“Sehun.”
*
“I don’t
want to be alone anymore.” Taemin moves closer to Krystal. He’s out of tears. He’s tired of crying.
*
“I’m sorry,
your friends Kai, Sehun and Sulli were involved in an accident where the car
was crushed against another car by a lorry. The lorry driver was drunk,” the female
voice said through Taemin’s phone speaker. “Two are badly injured. It
is unlikely for them to survive. One managed to escape with bearable injuries.”
“Wh-who is
it?”
“The
driver.”
*
“It was all
our fault.” Krystal finally lets the tears flow out of her loneliness. But now
they’re mixed with the incessant rain.
“That’s
enough.”
*
“I don’t
think I can ever forgive myself.”
Taemin
looked at Kai. He had a bandage on his forehead over his right eyebrow. They
believed that they would never see Krystal ever again. So they decided to go up
the cliff one last time before moving on.
“It wasn’t
your fault.” Taemin slowly gulped, remembering that night with Krystal. He
secretly would never forgive himself either.
“Taemin, I
want you to remember this,” Kai said. “Nothing’s gonna be alright after this.
We will be scarred forever. But I want you to move on. We had happy memories.
Everything was fine. Time waited for us. But only for so long.”
He paused for a while, as if looking back and regretting everything. “I only
want you to remember the happy memories. Let go of all the bad ones, and walk
facing the front. Look back once in awhile; I want you to never forget us. But
just walk straight ahead.”
Taemin only
looked at the sun. He knew what was going to happen. But he decided he wouldn’t
stop his friend.
“Promise me
you’ll remember.”
“Promise.”
*
“Let’s
think about the happy memories. Let’s just think about their laughs.”
Sehun’s
laughter mixing over with the picture of his bloody face in the front
passenger’s seat, crushed in between the hard metals.
“About
their voices.”
Sulli’s
singing voice ringing in their ears but their eyes only saw the innocent face
pale in the hospital bed.
“And their
smiles.”
Kai’s last
smile as he removed his bandage in the red sunlight.
Krystal
sobs into Taemin’s soaked chest. He pulls her in as she weeps.
“There’s
nothing we can do. We only have each other now.”
Krystal’s
scream echoes from the cliff down to the houses below it, slowly reaching the
apartments further away, fading with the thunders and the lightning. There,
standing in the rain, Taemin and Krystal only have each other. And they promise
they will never leave the other. Because they are, the only reasons left to
move on.
