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Linong meets Xukun on a stone bridge just before the sun sets on a Friday evening.
“Don’t slip, you’ll fall easily.”
Linong swings his legs, scooching back so the wall of the bridge hits the back of them. He turns around to see Xukun, a beautiful head of brown hair and a sharp gaze that any idol would envy. Staring down at the lake water below, he shifts his weight to the palm of his hands so his shoulders scrunch up. Xukun leans on the wall of the bridge next to him.
“It’s nice outside,” Xukun quietly states, and Linong hums in agreement.
Linong is always sitting on the edge of the same bridge every Friday evening. There’s never any time for just staring aimlessly until the sky grows dark, especially within a few weeks of the gaokao. But it’s the only time Linong ever leaves the little nest created by thick textbooks, sheets of homework that paint dark circles under his eyes and deepen the bend of his back.
“How was your week?”
The two have fallen into some kind of a routine. It’s very comforting; Linong relies on it like an anchor, to give him some kind of semblance that there is something worth working for in the world.
“It was good. I ranked 5th in a test we took recently.”
Xukun never asks too much, and Linong never bothers to look too deeply into it. They see each other often, but somehow Linong cannot bring himself to call Xukun anything more than a stranger.
He stares up at the sky, a fiery collapse of reds and oranges, and breathes in deeply. Linong doesn’t know what school Xukun goes to, or even his age. He doesn’t know what kind of food Xukun likes, or if he has any siblings. Linong can’t even keep track of the hair color Xukun sometimes changes.
They could pass of as strangers who simply know each other’s names.
“Linong.”
Xukun is staring at him, saying something, but all Linong can do is look at the quickly setting sun and think about the math test he most definitely did not study for. He just nods; after all there is nothing Linong can ruin about Xukun’s opinion of him.
“Linong.”
Linong almost slips off the edge of the bridge, but Xukun is suddenly behind him, holding tightly onto his waist so that the stone digs uncomfortably into his lower back. They stay like that for a few moments; Linong feels Xukun beginning to lose his grip.
“Let go, I can swim.”
Xukun gives him a wary glance, but Linong smiles. It’s a soft lift of his lips that he knows makes people coo. At times, he hates the affect it has, but it has surprising persuasive abilities too. After a few more moments, Linong is falling, and he holds his breath to brace himself for the impact.
The lake is rather deep, and Linong’s clothes stick to him, pulling him down under the water. It’s so cold. Linong stays underwater, tucking into himself, squeezing his eyes shut until his lungs beg him, will him to get out of there. It’s comforting though, and Linong wonders how painful it would be to just drown himself as he hauls himself upwards. His hair plasters itself against his forehead while he swims to shore.
“Are you alright?”
A hand extends to pull him on shore. Xukun is offering his jacket, but Linong waves his hand in protest.
“Just wet, I’ll be okay.”
Linong waddles onto the stone path, feeling the evening wind send chills over his skin. The sky is a brilliant midnight blue, the sun long gone past the horizon. He should really be heading home.
“Linong.”
This time Xukun squats down so Linong sees his eyes, piercing. They enrapture him, force him to pay attention. Today, they are blue and icy.
“Be strong okay? You’ll do well on your tests, and you’ll get into a good university. I know. Trust me.”
Linong has no choice but nod. Xukun doesn’t break eye contact for another few moments, looking into Linong, taking him apart, putting him back together again.
But we are mere strangers.
“You should go home. Don’t catch a cold, okay?”
Linong gets through his test just fine. In the end he manages to rank 2nd. His parents will be satisfied, and that is the only motivation Linong has to even look at the rankings in the first place. He thinks about the next test coming up in two days, thinks about the amount of textbooks still standing around his desk at home.
It’s a Sunday morning. Linong walks to the bridge, climbing over the edge, sitting down on the smooth stone. He feels aimless; there is no where to go and no where to be. It’s alright though.
“Don’t slip off this time.”
Linong is surprised that Xukun is there, right behind him, staring at him with a twinkle in his eyes. He turns around, hands grabbing at the stone to keep himself on the edge to see Xukun with a head of brilliant silver hair.
“Are you stalking me? I thought we only meet on Fridays.”
Xukun chuckles, “I can leave if you want. I can leave and never come back.”
“Hey I didn’t say that,” Linong pouts.
“Here, turn around,” Xukun offers a hand, “You’re always sitting on the edge and I’m always afraid you’re going to fall.”
“It happened last time and I was completely fine.”
Linong complies, however. He doesn’t know why; there’s no reason for him to listen to Xukun. But he does.
“You came up last time. After a minute.”
“Wait, are you afraid I’m going to drown myself?”
Xukun has the decency to flush, staring down at his shoes. They’re regular shoes today, a dirty pair of vans. But he seems to relax when Linong hops off the bridge, feet landing onto the solid ground beneath him.
“Can I not worry about that? I see you every week, just staring off into the distance on the edge of the bridge. Do you know how many attempted drownings have happened within the last month?”
Linong giggles. He knows it’s a serious subject matter, but the small chuckle just falls out of his lips.
“Xukun, I barely know anything about you. If I were to really commit suicide, why would I listen to you?”
Linong means it in the best way possible, but the words still come out bitter and angry. Xukun just smiles though. It’s a helpless, empty smile. His lips are lined with a shimmery lip gloss that shines as his lips twitch.
Then, I hope to meet you in the next life.
Linong sits on the edge of the bridge on a Wednesday night. He stares at the sky, waiting for a large amount of time. Waiting for what, he has no idea.
The sun disappears, and Linong slips. The water pulls him down with her cold hands, wrapping around him and burning his lungs until she bursts into them, filling them up with her embrace.
Xukun.
His head feels light. Everything burns a fiery red.
Why did you want to save me?
-
“Linong.”
Xukun is always wary about going out to the same bridge at the same time every week. His manager is highly against it, but Xukun is stupidly stubborn at times.
The other boy is still staring at the sky. His cheeks are rosy and his eyes glimmer. Xukun looks down at the water, a painted replica of the sunset. Linong hasn’t shown any sign that he has heard Xukun, but Xukun remembers what Linong bashfully admitted to him the first time they met.
“I just space out a lot. You can tell me anything you want and I won’t remember it.”
Xukun thinks about how tired Linong always is when they see each other. He sees dark circles in the other’s attempts to give him a weak smile. There are a lot of “don’t worries” and “I’ll be okays.” But Xukun remembers all the crying and screaming. He remembers Linong talking about wanting to sing, wanting to be an idol but not getting enough support for it.
“I’m not as pretty as you Xukun. I could never make it. I’m no good at singing or dancing.”
“Linong.”
The boy stiffens with a start, slipping off the edge of the bridge. Xukun can’t remember getting ahold of him in time.