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Flashbacks of the night before kept coming to him like the gust of wind which now hit his face so coldly. The beach was empty, the sand was icy cold underneath his bare feet, and he was shivering. The sunrise was very welcoming but something about his whole situation told him this was no welcome. Carrying his loved one in his arms, Chan started sobbing, his legs almost giving up completely. He was weak, and couldn't carry the weight much longer. As he looked down and stared at the man he loved most in this world slip away from his arms he screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He wouldn't give up on him, the way he didn't give up on Chan. This is not the end, this is not our finish line. We're so close. I got you, I'm here. I'm not going to let you go. I'm gonna save you...
Chan was hesitant about going to the party. Not because he wasn't really into them, which he was not, but because he hated feeling like an outsider. He wasn't a party animal and he knew he never would be, but he loved the idea of acceptance, and faking a smile and drinking and going to parties and being socially accepted was a goal he wanted to achieve more than anything. Popularity, that's what he truly wished for. Friends. Love. To be wild and young and be just like the rest of them, dumb drunks who did stupid things and broke the rules just for the fun of it. He longed to be a part of them. He had friends, sure, but Changbin and Jisung weren't like him in any way: they were part of other groups as well, and even though Chan loved them and had known them since they were little kids, he had gone a different path and couldn't belong to their same social groups anymore. He had lost his chance. He was lower in the rank, his social life was nonexistent next to them. They were his safe haven. They were, in a way, all he had and yet, he had nothing at all.
When Jisung called him that Thursday inviting him to a party Hyunjin, the most popular kid in school, was hosting, he didn't hesitate to say yes and kindly accept the invitation. It was his opportunity, his once in a lifetime shot at pretending he, for once, wasn't an outsider. But now, an hour before Changbin picked him up, he was nervous. Anxiety rushed through his veins and his hands were shaking. He looked in the mirror once more and took a deep breath: he had changed his clothes at least 6 times but he was still unsure whether he was dressed appropriately. "How do kids these days dress for parties?" He wondered to himself, he really was inexperienced when it came to parties and going out and making friends and getting drunk and fitting in. Chan ultimately decided to go with jeans and a casual white buttoned shirt. He sighed again and threw himself on his bed, looking at the ceiling and wondering if he had made the right choice.
"You look good, don't worry," Changbin assured him once he got in the car. He had noticed his nervous lip twitch and had tried to calm him down. "It's just a party."
But it wasn't just any party to him. Chan hadn't been invited to a party in a long time, and he honestly couldn't remember what it felt like. Apart from that, he was going to the party the most popular kid in his school was hosting, and he bet Kim Seungmin and Yang Jeongin, Hyunjin's best friends and part of the most popular clique in school would be there too.
"We're gonna be there with you," Jisung said from the backseat, smiling at him. "Don't worry."
As soon as they arrived to Hyunjin's place, they were welcomed with beers and high fives, things which Chan thought were also for him, but he found himself being dodged and ignored and ultimately Jisung and Changbin lost themselves in the crowd and Chan was left alone: the night didn't start as well as he thought it would.
He tried his luck and joined the dance floor, but eventually he left, after being unkindly glared at and being ignored and pushed aside. He had always liked his own company but the purpose of his presence there had been in vain, and he was a bit ashamed. He felt out of place, a feeling he was used to already, but that he hated profoundly.
Hyunjin's house was like a palace; it was archaic and greek styled and the floors were marble-grey and white and the rooms were big enough to fit at least a thousand people. When he went out the backdoor, the party was still going on outside, at least 300 people were dancing and running around and getting drunk and playing games but what caught his attention the most was the pool at the back. It was crystal clear and it looked like forbidden territory. It was huge, the size of a tennis court. A group of teenagers were having a blast inside of it, shouting and laughing and splashing each other around, and he would've loved to join and share the fun, but he knew he wouldn't. Without thinking twice about it, and being absolutely sure nobody was watching him, or paying attention to what he was about to do, he sat down by the pool, taking off his shoes and leaving them aside on the grass. He submerged his ankles down the water and twiddled them playfully. He was the whole pool apart from the group and neither of them seemed to notice his sudden appearance. From afar, he took a better look at them: they were everything he wanted to have. Their clothes were lying next to the pool, and that's when he noticed the bushes and a mysterious figure watching them from behind. The person was lurking attentively, without drifting his eyes away from them.
Chan froze, afraid of being seen by the mysterious figure. He could barely see it from his position, and the bushes did a great job hiding him from anyone's sight. Without further delay, the figure took a few steps forward and, taking advantage of the lack of moonlight, disappeared in the dark of the night. A shiver went through Chan's spine as he searched for the figure with his eyes, drifting them from side to side around the backyard. But soon he found it; a hand had reached out and pounced at the teens' clothes and soon, the clothes were gone as well as the figure.
Chan stood up, his feet wet, his mind set on finding the stranger. When he found him, he didn't even bother to put his shoes back on and followed him discreetly, sneaking behind him. The stranger still hadn't noticed his presence, and Chan thought he never would. He took a better look at him now and discovered he was a boy that looked his age, brownish hair and he had his chest exposed under a loose shirt—Chan figured he had stolen the clothes because he didn't have any of his own, which struck him as odd. He observed him as the boy blended himself with the party, and soon he was inside on the dance floor. Chan followed him inside and sat down on the remaining spot on the couch, surrounded by kissing couples and doped crackheads. As much as he was very uncomfortable, his eyes were fixed on the boy in front of him, and he wouldn't move. He watched him dance, he looked dazed and drunk, but something about the way he moved so slowly and delicately told Chan he wasn't either of them: it was almost natural. The lights inside were dim but he could still see a shy smile running through the stranger's lips and his hands ran through his chest, and something about it all mesmerized Chan. It was as if he belonged there, as if he was somehow the life of the party, and yet people didn't seem to pay attention to him: his presence went unnoticed.
And then he looked right into Chan's eyes. The stranger's eyes met with his in between the dim lights and the haze and the drunks and the loud music and the atmosphere and suddenly the stranger was walking towards him and stretching out his hand and inviting him to dance with him. Before he could kindly refuse the offer and sit back down, he was walking across the dance floor hand in hand with the stranger.
So he danced. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and felt the music coming through his ears like a drug and he was moving with the rhythm and he forgot where he was and his social status and nothing mattered anymore. He was freeing himself from his fears and he felt great. Everything felt so light yet his heart felt full, the desire he had been bottling away all these years was finally free and he was pleased. He had waited for this moment to come but never, not even in his wildest dreams, did he think it would ever come. He smiled, teeth between his lips, and everything felt like Heaven, and suddenly the boy was pulling him forward and sliding a hand down his back and resting it on his hips and Chan giggled, unsure of what was happening but begging for it to never cease. Chan felt, for once in his life, visible. He felt alive and invincible and unstoppable and he felt the adrenaline run through his blood.
He opened his eyes and gazed at the boy, who was now a few centimeters apart. He leaned forward and whispered in Chan's ear, amid the blasting music, "Follow me."
Chan didn't hesitate and, his hand interlocked with the boy's, they went back out again to the backyard and sat by the pool, just by Chan's shoes.
At first, neither of them said anything: Chan kept glancing at the boy, who was stargazing. But his curiosity was stronger than his will to remain quiet and keep on admiring him, so he blurted, "Who are you?"
The boy smiled at him, innocently. "Do you wanna know or do you think you want to know?"
Chan frowned, confused. He laughed, trying to brush it off. "What's your name? I'm Chan."
"Minho, that's what they call me."
Chan looked at him once more, analysing his face and his gestures. He found Minho attractive, and he had never seen him before at school.
"What are you doing here?"
That's when he noticed his pose: Minho had refused to bathe his feet inside the pool with Chan, despite the heat wave that Seoul was going through right now. He was hugging his legs, resting his chin on his knees, looking down at the pool. He wondered if he was hydrophobic.
Minho raised an eyebrow and smiled maliciously. "I sneaked out." He sounded somewhat proud of himself.
"So you're a rebel?"
Minho chuckled, "I'm not a rebel, I just want freedom. Isn't that what you want as well?"
Chan frowned once more, "How do you know what I want? You don't know me."
The boy leaned backwards and seemed to analyze his expression. His sight drifted from Chan's face, down his chest and legs and ultimately stuck with his toes, which were underwater. "Chan. Introverted, smart, very smart. Great grades, a bright student. Few friends. Frightened. You're looking for freedom, just as I am. We're outcasts, excluded from society."
Chan gasped, dropping his jaw just enough for Minho to steal his words, "Am I right, Bang Chan?" He grinned, pleased with himself. "But I'm not like you. I do break rules and have fun, and my exclusion from society has nothing to do with the fact that people don't like me. Or that I don't socialize enough. It's because of who I am."
"And who exactly are you?"
"Lee Minho. That's all I am. Just a name and a face."
Chan laughed, and Minho smiled at him, his eyes gleaming. They shared a few more stares before Chan said, sarcastically, "So your superpower's figuring people out?"
"Yes, that's right," he smirked. "What's yours?"
Chan's smile had been wiped out by the question. "Disappearing," he blurted out, looking down at the pool, praying Minho wouldn't ask him about it. But he did.
"Explain," he said.
And so he did. "People don't see me if I don't want them to. I blend in with my surroundings pretty well."
"So you're what? Invisible?" Minho lifted the mood, and he was glad he did. The smile returned to its rightful place, and his dimples were showing.
"You didn't notice me looking at you when you stole the shirt," he confessed, unsure of Minho's response.
Minho rested a hand on his thigh and his heartbeat went wild. His hand was soft and warm, and it was relatively small too. He gazed at him, peacefully. "Oh, but I did."
Before Chan could reply saying something like "sure you did" or "yeah, right," an unknown hand had dragged Minho up and was holding on to his shirt firmly. "Who are you?" Hyunjin had discovered the intruder and he was mad, fire in his eyes and smoke out of his ears. Minho looked unbothered but highly uncomfortable, and didn't say anything right away. A whole crowd had engulfed them and they were now the center of attention of the party. Seungmin and Jeongin stood behind the host, and Jisung and Changbin were nowhere to be seen. Woojin was there as well, the guy Chan had a crush on for so many years: he now looked different, and the butterflies he had felt all those times he looked at him were gone.
"Hey! Leave him alone," Chan defended him, standing up and rising his chin, an unusual feeling of bravery and self confidence invading him. Chan was not feeling like himself, but he liked it.
Hyunjin's deadly stare went from Minho directly on him, and that's when he realized he hadn't seen him at first. Chan could've played it safe and remain quiet, and wait for Hyunjin to just leave them alone but something inside of Chan had refused to just let his situation slip.
"And you? What are you doing here?" he snapped, looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed.
A sudden yell prevented him from answering. "Hey that's my shirt!" Felix, a guy from his grade, made his way through the crowd and stood in front of Minho, glancing at Hyunjin and giving the boy a confused look. "You're a thief!" He then proceeded to free him from Hyunjin's grip only to push him into the pool. It all happened very fast, the crowd jeered at him and then left, as soon as it had formed. Everyone returned to what they were doing prior to the intervention, and that's when he noticed Jisung and Changbin at the back, standing a few feet from him.
But Minho wasn't coming back up to the surface. A paralyzing fear ran through his body as he frantically searched the water with his eyes, but he was nowhere in sight. Without thinking twice about it, without even taking his shirt off he dived right into the pool.
The pool was deeper than it looked, and Chan was way too short to touch the bottom with his feet and still be able to breathe outside of it. It was dark as well. Everything was peaceful, and Chan could hear his own heartbeat. His eyes burned and he couldn't clearly see what was in front of him due to the chlorine. He held his breath as he swam across the pool, turning his head desperately, searching for Minho. Unpleasant thoughts rushed through his mind but he was determined that he would find him. The coldness he had felt upon entering the water was completely gone once he saw him, but he saw more than he would have wanted: Minho was safe, alive but it wasn't him, something had changed and Chan let out a gasp, freeing a few too many bubbles of oxygen in the water. Chan's eyes scanned him from top to bottom and that's when he noticed a long, scaly tail in his legs' place. He watched in amazement as Minho waved it around, revealing its beautiful colors, a degrading blue and light blue colors.
But nothing mattered anymore, not who he was nor what Minho was. The feeling of losing Minho had been greater than his shock and the thought of him drowning had paralyzed him enough to know he loved him. He stared at him for a second, now realizing the beautiful light brown shade his eyes had. So he rushed forward, closing his eyes, and planted him a kiss, their lips meeting: after all he was a teenager, having the time of his life, breaking rules and having fun and being wild, and he was free. It lasted only a few seconds but it represented eternity to him: he never thought his first kiss would be underwater, with a merman. His lungs almost gave in before he realized he was quite out of breath and needed to rise up. He impulsively grabbed Minho's hand and swam upwards, towards the surface.
Jisung and Changbin were glad to see him, both sighing in relief, and helped him out. But they were reluctant to help him take Minho out, confused looks over their faces.
"Chan, what the fuck?"
"Who's that? What's going on?"
Before he could reply to Jisung's questions, he lifted him out of the water, carefully placing his tail on the edge of the pool: its beautiful colors were gone, in its place grey and white blackish colors. His face was pale and the reddish color his lips once had were gone as well. Minho's skin was cold, and he was shivering: his teeth were violently chattering. Chan held him in his arms, kneeling down next to him as he laid helplessly on the ground.
He turned to his friends. "Help me, I need to take him somewhere else."
Jisung looked away, covering his mouth. "He's freaking me out, what the hell is he?"
"I don't know what's going on," Changbin mumbled. "I-I-I don't know, Chan."
Chan knew they were no use, and that they wouldn't help him. But he wasn't going to allow himself to let Minho suffer any longer. He looked so fragile, so weak, unlike the first time he saw him. It looked like the colors and the light and his life was draining away from him, somehow melting away with every drop of water falling down his soaked hair.
"I'll get you out of here, I promise," he shakily whispered, shivering.
Flashbacks of the night before keep coming to me like the gust of wind which now hit my face so coldly. The beach is empty, the sand is icy cold underneath my bare feet, and I am shivering. The sunrise is very welcoming but something about this whole situation tells me this is no welcome, but instead more like the end. Carrying my loved one in my arms, I start sobbing, my legs almost giving up completely. I am weak, and can't carry the weight much longer. As I look down and stare at the man — or merman — I love most in this world slip away from my arms I scream, tears streaming down my cheeks. I won't give up on him, the way he didn't give up on me.
"This is not the end, this is not our finish line. We're so close. I got you, I'm here. I'm not going to let you go. I'm gonna save you," I whisper, every step I make towards the sea feels heavier and heavier, and I feel like it is dragging me down.
Minho looks serene, peaceful: lifeless. "All this time I was searching for you. That's why I ran away, I had to find you. I knew you'd be the one to save me."
His voice is soft, almost like a whisper. "Please, don't talk," I urge him, but he goes on.
"I should've never gotten out of the water. But I wanted to meet you. I wanted to be free," he struggles, taking small breaths in between words.
"Don't give up. We're almost there," I say, "Stay with me."
"I've always been with you, and I'll always stay with you, Chan."
My legs give in and I slowly place Minho on the sand, panting, sweat running down my face. He still has Felix's shirt, and he's still shivering, and I don't know what to do anymore. My muscles ache and my legs hurt. I kneel down next to him, defeated; Minho is still in my arms.
"We have met before?"
"Of course, Chan. We met in our dreams. Don't you remember?"
But of course now I remember, Minho's soft voice uncovering a part of my memory I have been denying for a long time, unconsciously self forcing myself to forget. And forget I did, until now.
Ever since I was a little kid I have dreamt about the sea and its magical creatures. I have always been fascinated by mermaids and mermen, even believing they were real. I received a lot of mocks and people didn't believe me when I once told then I had seen one. My friends stopped talking to me and I was excluded from all after school outings and later on, parties. They had all labeled me as a "freak," "weirdo," all except Jisung and Changbin, who had known me for a long time, and even if they didn't believe me, they still hanged out with me, never really knowing why. I grew up with trust issues and social anxiety, afraid of what people might think of me. But I forced myself to change, to leave all that "fantasy" side of me out and become like one of them. I never really became one of them, and right now I realize I will never.
"I can't go on without you by my side," I plead, "Don't leave me, please."
"You set me free," he smiles, blinking slowly. "Our love was never meant to be. It's forbidden. But, like I told you before, I'm not like you. I do break rules and have fun, and my exclusion from society has nothing to do with the fact that people don't like me. Or that I don't socialize enough. It's because of who I am. It's because I'm not human."
I sob, wiping the tears off my face.
"I broke, possibly, the biggest rule: leave the ocean. And also falling in love with a human. But I couldn't help myself. Only you could save me, only you could set me free."
"I can't go on without you, I'm not gonna leave you here," I say, my voice cracking.
I pick him up again, with the strength I have left. We're so close, the shore is a few feet away.
Minho takes a deep breath, and I can see he's struggling with breathing.
I have to hurry.
I stagger, each time closer until I can feel my feet in the water.
I keep going.
I fight the waves as they crash into my arms.
The water is up to my hips. Minho's still in my arms.
I make my way through the water. Minho's weight becomes lighter.
The water is up to my armpits. Minho's tail is completely submerged underwater. I'm still holding him in my arms.
"Chan, you're freezing," Minho says in a whisper. He has no strength left either. "I have to go now."
I start crying again, moaning in pain. I scream, closing my eyes and feeling how the pain goes as I take it all out. But there is more, much more pain I won't be able to take out. "You figured me out completely. I am all the things you said I was, but you gave them a whole new meaning. I used to be afraid of opening myself to people but I had no problem doing it with you. You saved me. I'm gonna save you like you saved me."
Minho's face gleams despite losing its color, and he curves a smile. "But you already saved me. Now it's time to let go."
"I don't want to."
"I won't forget you, Bang Chan, and you won't forget me." Those words don't comfort me as Minho thinks they do.
"You set me free. I did things I would've never done if it wasn't for you. I felt like I belonged somewhere, like I was normal for once. I don't want that feeling to fade. With you I'm not an outcast because I belong somewhere. I belong with you."
Minho reaches out and strokes my cheek, his wet hand is still somehow soft, and I weep even more.
"We'll meet again," he whispers, followed by a cough. Time is running out.
"We will?"
"Well, of course," he croaks, almost no voice left. "I'll see you in your dreams. That's where I'll always be."
"This is it?" I ask, letting him go, watching how he swims out of my arms. I have never been good at goodbyes, and I never will be.
Minho's eyes reflect pain. "This is it," he confirms. I nod, turning around and making my way back to the beach. I fight the need to turn around and look at him one more time, but I won't: it will only be more painful.
I crawl out of the sea, my arms giving in as my face turns red, my eyes get puffy and my heart bleeds: it now has wounds that will never turn to scars, and will continue to bleed.
A few minutes go by in pain before I'm finally strong enough to turn around and look at the sea again: in Minho's place there is only white foam that spreads along the water, the color of a pearl, the color of perfection and innocence and purity and light and safety and goodness: everything that Minho once was, and what he represented to me.