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Rain poured down from the dark, heavy clouds of an angry sky.
A lone figure dressed in black stood before the headstone of a freshly dug grave, the cold rain matted his once neatly styled dark hair and soaked the black woolen overcoat he wore.
“Hey Mark… It’s been a while….” He began, smooth deep voice trembling slightly as the words left his lips as a forced breath. “Things… haven’t been so good since you left.” He paused, taking a deep breath and held it to keep himself together even though tears flowed down his cheeks, mixing with the rain. “I’m not sure if you can feel it, but I still weep for you.” The man’s voice shook as memories of a man’s face washed flashed through is memory. “But weather I shed tears or not… you’re too far from me now.”
A sob choked him, breath halting as his knees gave out and he landed on the cold muddy grass that seeped and stained his black trousers, “Please, don’t feel guilty. I know well that I wasn’t born with love… but because of that, it doesn’t mean I can’t feel. I can feel it all.” He bemoaned loudly, tears falling freely now as the levee holding back the flood waters of his grief failed.
“It’s awkward here without you. I call your name without realizing it… always expecting you to answer. Expecting to feel your reassuring embrace on the nights when the tears just won’t stop, you, the only one who hugged me no matter how much I cried.” He lurched forward; hands fisting the freshly lain soil and watched through tear filled eyes as the mud welled up between his fingers.
“Why can I still feel the darkness alone inside of me? Why… why can’t I feel the light, although I know it’s there? Please Mark… the responsibility for the result of love… Will there be anyone who cries for me?”
“Please… tell me in a closer distance… I can’t hear you saying I’m sorry. I’m not made of plastic you son of a bitch!” He moaned and he bowed forward, pressing his forehead to the muddy ground.
“I need a helping hand… I don’t want to live anymore.” He uttered in a whisper.
As he spoke, the sound of the rain and the world seemed to melt away around him. A tender warmth, like a sunbeam on a spring day, warmed his cold cheek and he looked up to find the source.
Time seemed to slow to a stop around him as he gazed at the apparition of his fallen lover; his image wreathed in a halo of soft golden light. One ghostly pale hand reached forward to gently cup Jinyoung’s stunned face and smoothed a thumb over his cheek. A sob caught in Jinyoung’s throat as a new wave of tears erupted from his eyes and he moved to embrace the man, only to pass through him as the illusion cracked and reality flooded back; the sound of the rain and wind, the planes that flew overhead, the sirens and car horns in the distance and the chill in the air that caused small white puffs to form before his trembling lips.
The familiar melodic drum of heavy droplets upon the nylon of an umbrella met his ears as the cold rain suddenly ceased it’s pelting upon his muddied withered form.
“Jinyoung, it’s time to go.” A voice said softly, it was warm like roasted hazelnuts mixed with coffee. Firm, but not harsh and held a note of concern for the wellbeing of the man before him as he held out a hand, not caring that he was becoming soaked by the steady downpour due to his umbrella that was held out to shelter the grieving man before him.
Im Jaebum, an enforcer for the Seven Stars crime syndicate, known for his penchant for violence and a fiery temper to go with it, squatted before him, where the vision of Mark had been moments earlier. They had known each other for years now, with Jaebum occasionally soliciting his services. The man had always been gentle with him, almost as if he was afraid that he would break at the slightest touch of his hands. He was a trusted friend, one of the rare few that his kind of life allowed. Attachments were dangerous, they both knew this.
Slowly Jinyoung lifted a muddy hand from the grass, but hesitated for a moment before taking Jaebum’s rough, calloused hand, allowing the enforcer to pull him up to his feet. A soft cluck of the man’s tongue, coupled with a motherly sigh at Jinyoung’s drowned appearance was heard before he pulled the mourning stripper against his side.
The black umbrella sheltered the two of them from the rain as they made their way across the sprawling muted green lawn to a solitary black, foreign-made luxury brand car parked nearby. Tears continued to cascade down Jinyoung’s cheeks the whole way as shivers wracked his cold, half frozen body.
“Let’s get you home and cleaned up. I’ll call the club, they’ll understand.” Jaebum murmured, Jinyoung’s silent weeping the only reply he received.
* ~ * ~ *
There was so much red.
Jaebum stared at Jinyoung as he sat upon the bed, an eerie calm about him. A gun rested in his hands and a very headless, very nude body of a rival mafia group member lay next to him, staining the lavender bedspread a deep crimson. The stripper’s dark eyes were dull, nearly lifeless as they stared down at the gun in his blood splattered hands. Unaware of his audience, he took a small sigh-like breath and with a steady hand, lifted the gun to his temple; closing his eyes as a lone tear rolled down his cheek.
“NO!” Jaebum’s body surged forward before he even realized it and pulled the gun away, a single round firing into the ceiling before he pried the weapon out of the young stripper’s steely fingers.
“Shit!” The enforcer cursed as he quickly emptied the clip and chamber then shed his long black trench coat and wrapped it around the younger’s slender, almost emaciated, blood soaked body.
With another curse the enforcer grabbed Jinyoung and spirited him out of the room and down the back stairwell; successfully avoiding the patrons and most of the workers of the pleasure club. When they arrived in the underground parking garage, Jaebum practically threw the younger man into the passenger seat of the car before he slid into the driver’s seat and drove out of the garage.
The mobster’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, glancing over at his passenger as the orange street lamps that gleamed through the windshield, illuminating Jinyoung’s handsome face and the red flecks that were drying upon his nearly flawless skin.
Jaebum’s jaw clenched in an effort to keep the anger that bubbled up inside of him like a baking soda volcano at bay.
It had been a week since the rainy day in the graveyard and he had kept a watchful eye on Jinyoung since then. He had enlisted the help of Xero and Youngjae; the bartenders at the club Jinyoung worked at, to keep tabs on Jinyoung when he was unable to do so himself.
To see how far the dancer had slipped in his grief and depression… His stomach gave a sickening flop at the thought of what the younger had just attempted. How many other times had he tried to end his life before this? Jaebum’s heart shuddered at the thought, not even wanting to fathom the idea.
Once they arrived at Jaebum’s apartment complex, he pulled into the underground garage and all but dragged Jinyoung into the elevator and up to his apartment. It wasn’t a large space: two bedrooms, a bath and full kitchen that was big enough for both himself and his roommate, Youngjae. It was decorated modestly, with his interest for film and photography holding a central design aspect in the form of antique film cameras that lined two small book shelves in the living room, while oversized, framed black and white prints of Ansel Adams’ photography hung upon the walls; making the small space seem more like a gallery than an apartment.
As soon as the door closed Jaebum grabbed the younger and slammed his back against the smooth metal surface.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?!” he roared, anger bubbling over as his fingers dug into the listless stripper’s bony shoulders, greeting the words with only silence. “Do you really want to join him that badly?! Huh?! Do you?!! Have you even thought about anyone else other than yourself Jinyoung? How anyone would feel if you died as well?!”
Dark eyes that had been focused on the floor flicked up to Jaebum, revealing a quiet rage that burned deep within their inky depths.
“You think you’re the only one who’s suffering from Mark’s death? That you’re the only one he was close to?!” Jaebum shouted.
“Let me go.” Jinyoung uttered quietly, eyes unwavering from Jaebum’s face.
“Don’t be so fucking selfish when Yugyeom is out there as well, putting on a brave face while he mourns the death of his only fucking brother!”
Jinyoung’s right hand moved on it’s own accord and the sharp crack of his palm as it struck Jaebum’s face, echoed in the silence that followed.The older’s expression hardened as he bared his teeth, his resolve only bare threads that held back the rage he felt as Jinyoung glared back.
Without a word the mobster tore himself away from the stripper and stormed off to his room, the slam of the door rattling the walls as the loud roar of anger and frustration sounded from inside; followed by the crash of what Jinyoung could only assume was the reading lamp as it was thrown against the wall.
A soft meow drew his attention downward as Nora, Jaebum’s Siamese cat rubbed up against his blood stained legs, staining her cream colored fur a rusty brown. Slowly he slid down the door as his strength left him and a new wave of grief surged over the already broken levees of his resolve. Another soft mew sounded as Nora jumped onto his lap, sensing the younger’s distress and nuzzled up against him, licking his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her and bawled into her stained fur.
* ~ * ~ *
It was hours later that the two men were able to be in the same room again.
Jaebum out on the balcony, a cigarette smoldering between his lips as he surveyed the illuminated night cloaked cityscape that stretched out before him. Inside, a showered Jinyoung stroked a freshly bathed Nora on the charcoal colored couch, absently watching the various weather forecasts for the region in an effort to keep his mind from drifting to what had happened at the club. It worked for a few minutes, but he soon found his mind wandering to other things.
With a heavy sigh, Jaebum took a final drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray that was balanced on the railing of the balcony, sliding open the closed glass door to enter the room before closing it behind him with a soft click. His sharp eyes glanced at Jinyoung from the doorway, simply watching him for a few moments before he walked over and plopped down on the couch next to him. Jinyoung glanced through his peripheral vision when Jaebum came in, his attention turning back to the television as he sat next to him.
Silence enveloped the two men as they watched the muted weather broadcasts, the silence becoming more pregnant by the moment before Jaebum sighed loudly and reached over to scratch Nora along her jaw and chin, earning a loud purr in return.
“Jinyoung, we can’t avoid this.” He said, the warm hazelnut voice flowing out slowly, as if he was hesitant on where to start and turned to look directly at the young man beside him.
“Look… I won’t take back what I said earlier, but I’m going to level with you. What you did… what you were going to do was selfish, not to mention incredibly stupid and reckless. We’re all hurting because of what happened to Mark, he was a part of this family, a brother just as you are. Just as Youngjae is and Jackson and Yugyeom.”
Jinyoung listened, his composure calm at first, but his face slowly contorted into a grimace as Jaebum continued. Finally he couldn’t take any more of the man’s lecture and stood, dumping the poor cat off his lap with a loud displeased meow and stormed off to the kitchen where the sound of him rifling through the cupboards was heard. A glass clanked hard against the granite counter top, followed by the squeak of a cork as it was pulled from a bottle.
Jaebum got up and followed the man, watching as he poured himself a glass of whiskey then snatched it from Jinyoung and drained the entire thing in one go, letting out a soft hiss as the liquid burned down his throat.
“Drinking yourself to death is not going to make it go away Jin.” He said, earning a sharp glare from Jinyoung as he poured himself another glass then downed it.
“It might not, but it will at least numb everything else.” The younger hissed back as he went to pour a third before Jaebum reached over and grabbed the bottle, yanking it from Jinyoung’s hand and took a swig of the harsh alcohol that burned as it traveled down his throat.
“Jinyoung –“
“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT JAEBUM!” The younger erupted, slamming the tumbler he still held on the counter, causing the glass to shatter upon the stone counter top and embed into his hands.
“You have no idea how hard this is for me, how hard it’s been! Every day I open my eyes wanting to die, having the eyes of those lecherous pigs upon me, feeling their hands crawl upon my skin like spiders; the feeling of being so dirty that even scrubbing my skin raw won't bring relief.
“Mark… Mark was different. He was a light in the darkness that engulfed me… a flame… he… he made me feel human again.” The man finished with a hitch in his voice, tears rolling down his face as he leaned heavily against the counter and fisted his hair with bloodied hands.
The older was silent as he listened, thin eyes watching Jinyoung in his anguish, wincing at the glass embedded in his bleeding hands. Slowly he moved around the counter and gently wrapped his arms around the younger man who tensed at the touch before slowly relaxing again. He knew Jinyoung, knew his history, how he had given up a future in medicine to work off the debt of his deceased father in an effort to keep his mother and sisters away from the life he now led.
“I do know.” He stated quietly sliding his hand up to loosen Jinyoung’s injured hands from his hair in order to inspect the wounds.
“I knew this guy once.” He started almost absently as he picked the glass from his friend’s palm. “Incredibly handsome, could have been a movie star if he wanted to.” Jaebum sighed heavily, his breath tickling Jinyoung’s ear. “Unfortunately this guy had his eyes set on someone else and was blinded to everyone else around him.” He paused as he poured some of the whiskey over the younger’s hand, a soft hiss of pain issuing from the younger while Jaebum reached back to grab a kitchen towel out of the drawer next to the stove.
“One day, a deal goes bad and the person this guy had his eyes on is killed. Popular person, well-liked by many people, but soon after the incident, people moved on, except for the guy.
“He falls into a depression and closes himself off, unable to see those around him who care and want to help him move on.” He gently wrapped the towel around the younger’s hand as he spoke, creating a makeshift bandage that he tied off before wrapping his arms comfortingly around Jinyoung’s waist.
“What happened to him?” Jinyoung asked after a few moments of silence passed, shifting his weight to lean against Jaebum’s broad chest and rest his head upon the older’s shoulder, the events of the day and alcohol hitting him all at once and bringing on a drowsy buzz. “This guy you knew.”
A small smile lifted a corner of Jaebum’s mouth as he maneuvered them to the floor, his back resting against the fridge, bringing the whiskey bottle with him and took a swig before offering it to Jinyoung who reached up and took the bottle with both hands, their fingers brushing against each other.
“He tried to kill himself, and nearly succeeded a few times as well. But someone always stopped him.” He mused softly, as his thumb brushed over the old and faded scars that adorned the underside of Jinyoung’s arm, something he had discovered in the early days of their friendship.
“Oh yeah?” Jinyoung murmured, as he shifted to peer up at Jaebum with one eye. “Then what happened?” His warm breath danced across the stretch of the mobster’s neck, causing the tiny hairs to rise in small goosebumps.
“Eventually, he realized that there was someone beside him the whole time. Someone that would never leave him, and would chase the darkness away until they were old and grey, had arthritis and forgot who they even were anymore.” Jaebum finished and lifted the now mostly empty bottle to his lips.
Jinyoung was silent for a moment before he spoke. “So… he found God then?”
The whiskey Jaebum had in his mouth ended up on the other side of the kitchen as he sputtered and choked.
“NO YOU DUMMY! HOW DENSE CAN YOU BE? IT’S ME!” He blurted out then froze at the admission, realizing he had so easily fallen into Jinyoung’s trap.
The rich sound of Jinyoung’s laughter bubbled up from near the mobster’s chest and the man sat up, covering his mouth as his eyes crinkled at the corners and the soft, whisker-like wrinkles Jaebum loved, revealed themselves. He took in the sight of the older’s sullen frown before he dropped his hand and leaned in to plant a kiss on the elder’s lips then drew back and maneuvered himself to straddle the mobster’s hips, pushing him back against the fridge. The older blinked in surprise at the kiss and let out a soft oomph as he looked up at Jinyoung, his hands reaching up to wipe away tears that beaded and gathered upon the younger’s lashes.
For an instant, Jinyoung saw the visage of Mark before him, just as he had in the rainy graveyard and stared for a moment before he blinked and it was Jaebum once again. Mark was gone and it was time to move on, he knew it, and felt this was Mark’s way of saying it was okay for him to move on as well.
The stripper bit his lower lip as he reached up to grasp the older’s hand and took a deep breath.
“You really mean that? What you said before… about growing old and all that shit?”
“Yeah, every word.” Jaebum answered honestly.
Jinyoung gazed back into the older’s eyes, searching for anything that said otherwise, but came up empty. He let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding and leaned forward to rest his forehead against his friend’s, closing his eyes.
“Chase away the darkness Jaebum.” He uttered quietly as Jaebum’s hands moved to cradle his head and their lips met once again.
* ~ * ~ *
Sunlight filtered through newly leafed branches as two people stood before a fairly new headstone. A light warm wind tossed the dark, neatly styled hair of a young man in his early twenties, his bandaged hand clasped tightly with that of the man beside him.
A fresh bouquet of white daffodils and light blue hydrangea blooms replaced the withered blooms before the headstone and for a moment the world seemed to stop as dark eyes rested upon small monument of their fallen comrade.
“Hey Mark…. It’s been a while…”