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Six-year-old Jaemin is passive, a little dissociative, and difficult. Little Jaemin hardly draws one thing about his “future dream” when all kids around him chatter happily about being a doctor, a pilot, a firefighter, or a police. The boy will walk around the class instead, looking for an “inspiration” and draws whatever he sees interesting on other kids’ paper. Little Jaemin’s dream changes every two months and his impassivity stays through the timeline.
Jaemin is in the middle of drawing an airplane—pilot, repetition counter: 3—when he glances at his seatmate, the boy with snaggletooth, drawing little stars and big stars across his paper with the slightly green-stained yellow color. Jaemin stops at his track and follows the boy’s movement, drawing circles with various colors that the boy realizes as planets. The snaggletooth is drawing the Milky Way.
Suddenly, the drawing is thrust into his face until he can smell the typical paraffin wax getting into his respiratory.
“Jaemin, do you think it’s pretty?” The boy asks cheerily behind the paper.
Jaemin’s eyes go wide at the way his seatmate begins the question. He remembers none of his classmates remembers his name, let alone calling his actual name. The way, and only way, he reacts to their recess activities’ invitation make them disinclined, as children decide a person is good or not based on who can play along with them and who can’t. So far, Jaemin’s name at school is “Hey” and he is just someone.
The snaggletooth calls his name and he feels warm all over his body almost immediately. To know that someone doesn’t actually retreat from their attempts to befriend Jaemin makes him feel good, feel nice, feel like a wonderful spring day. And the heart is where the garden of flowers is, blooming ever so beautifully.
Jaemin pulls down the snaggletooth’s arms to show him his approving nods. The impact is unintelligible, ways out of his limited logic because the boy before his eyes beams so bright it’s blinding. No, “beaming” is the lowest understatement; the snaggletooth bursts . He has the widest, happiest, brightest smile a kid around Jaemin’s age can muster without creeping other people up, the cute snaggletooth is showing, his cheeks are dusted pink, and there is no other word that best explains him other than the celestial he has been drawing all the time.
“Thank you, Jaemin!” says the boy excitedly before turning back to his table. Jaemin grabs his wrist quickly to catch his attention again and the boy does look at him this time with confusion laced on his face.
“You...” Jaemin intelligently vocalizes with the same redness on the cheeks as the other boy when he compliments his drawing. “Star.”
The snaggletooth blinks once, then twice before cracking a toothy smile. The last thing that Jaemin can imagine is the boy squishing his cheeks between his crayon-dirted palms and says,
“I’ve decided that you are very cute, Jaemin. I like you and let’s be friends!”
***
The day the snaggletooth establishes their friendship, Jaemin begins to force his brain to work harder for the boy. His first task is memorizing the boy’s full name. Jaemin doesn’t remember any names from his class because likewise, no one seems to care about his. But Snaggletooth Boy cares and that’s why Jaemin should too.
Huang Renjun . That’s Snaggletooth Boy’s full name. Jaemin practices every day, knowing that his Korean tongue fails his Mandarin every time. So, he shortens it to simply Injun, which the said boy immediately agrees because it just sounds cute, claims him. Jaemin beams for the first time in his life (that’s still really short and young, younger than an adult turtle), feeling the weird sense of pride that bursts inside of him and how his shoulders feel bigger after what he has accomplished. His parents tell him it’s called “pride”, and Jaemin decides that he likes it. He’ll make Renjun happy because that’s where his pride takes form.
His second task is describing Renjun to his parents. Both of his mom and dad are left agape at his story, how he makes friends with Renjun and how the snaggletooth boy looks like. He tells them about his figure until his favorite lunch menu. At this point, his parents think that Jaemin may also be able to describe the difference of Renjun’s shadow between under the zenith sun and the moonlight.
The storytelling session ends up with a standing ovation and his parents telling him that they’d like to meet Renjun in graduation day which Jaemin nods eagerly at the idea. Later when the boy has drifted away to the dreamland, his parents continue to talk about him, Renjun, and how they’ve figured out the way to raise him and that he is making a good progress thanks to the Chinese boy.
His third task is to memorize Renjun’s likes and dislikes, dos and don’ts. Renjun has never been a complicated person with a conflict of interest. He only likes the celestials, is amazed by the vast universe and how they work, gawks at the constellation, and runs excitedly to mini puzzles of the Milky Way which he should assemble the miniature, puts the self-colored planet in order, and screws some driver to get a very cool desk lamp. And also, he likes to draw and to paint. Even though it’s far from explicable but still, appreciative and is getting better by practices.
Jaemin learns that Renjun lives way too positively that he has no dislikes. Well, except ghosts and monsters. And he has a pretty wild imagination about alien abduction. Renjun can go on until the next sunrise talking about conspiracies and possibilities, that they are not alone in this big, big universe. Jaemin just teases him about watching too many Chicken Little but that only results in a pouty Renjun and a silent treatment that lasts only five seconds. Cute, but not exactly what Jaemin likes.
(Or maybe, later in the future, he’ll find it cuter.)
His fourth task comes rather intuitively, coming out of impulsion than deliberate thinking as children don’t do much of it but more of impulsion. Jaemin is taught what is wrong and right regardless of his will to be involved in making the decision. He likes his spot in the grey area; it’s cool and quiet. Neutral, the way he favours.
It’s the kindergarten anniversary day decorated with balloons, desserts in all colors, camera’s flash, smiles, joy. Each kid is given a goodie bag full of stuff: most of them are snacks, cute stickers, and a tumbler. They are free to eat the tooth-rotting dessert, play games, and runs around whatever they want.
Jaemin is walking with Renjun, hand-in-hand, trying to find something to ease his growling tummy. Renjun on the other side is pretty much the opposite of him. He is full, bright and glowing, but insists on eating more snack just because he likes them.
“Do you know Jaemin that Ms. Wendy prepares a looot of lollipop?? She said, she’d present them for the guests and we can take it too!” Renjun bounces happily and spreads his arms excitedly only to hit a boy’s plate of desserts. All of the contents are scattered on the floor, becoming inedible just in one fateful second.
Renjun clasps his hand in front of his mouth realizing his mistake and Jaemin is just standing still on his spot, emotionless but curious. The victim of Renjun’s arm is a big kid with a protruding stomach and the suspender makes him look more stuffy. Jaemin knows him and he is not the biggest in their batch but that doesn’t mean he is not intimidating. The boy is known to shove everyone else in his way and is a spoiled brat. He soon looms over Renjun, face discontented and red with boiled blood.
“I’m-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” and before Renjun can finish his sentence, he is sent to the floor by the kid. His butt stings at the harsh contact with the hard surface but the tears sting the most. He does his best to hold them this time because he knows he is a big boy now and Jaemin’s presence somehow makes him ashamed for crying. He doesn’t want Jaemin to deal with his crying mess anymore but tears keep falling on his cheeks.
Renjun is too preoccupied making his big boy image on the floor that he doesn’t know Jaemin takes a big slice of chocolate cake from the table and slams it to the boy’s face and expensive shirt, whispering undervaluing words about the boy with the calmest yet dirtiest look he can muster until Renjun’s choked sob drowns under the other boy’s shrilling cry.
Jaemin still has difficulty relating to Renjun’s interest, he hardly memorizes most of the celestial objects, he slips one or two letter of a star system’s name (“It’s Alpha Centauri, Jaemin, not Alpha Century!”) but he carves it in his bones that Renjun likes them. And for once in his lifetime, his teacher is not collecting a blank piece of paper. They also write an A on his attempt of drawing Renjun and a big yellow star that he labels as Rigel.
***
“Have found your future dream, Jaem?” asks Renjun in one windy night in October. They are in Jaemin’s balcony, enjoying the Seoul skyline from a quieter place. The boy is wearing the taller’s hoodie, the clothe is overwhelming him with the softness of its fabric, Dr. Squatch Cedar Citrus scent that Jaemin’s left, and his bodily warmth. Renjun loves watching the star in this particular hoodie, also because it provides him cute sweater paws. “Don’t say it’s to give me a star again.”
Jaemin doesn’t drift away from the breathing city in the middle distance when he says, “An astronaut.”
Renjun breathes out a single laugh and replies calmly, “C’mon, you are 18, Jaem.” His answer successfully draws the taller’s attention. Jaemin turns his head to look at the unaware Renjun next to him, the wind plays with his hair it makes him look more graceful under the moonlight.
“Can I have my ‘pats of support’ because I finally have a dream?” This time Renjun cracks a loud laughter and hides his mouth with the sweater paw, and something in Jaemin’s gut springs. His bestfriend is undeniably stunning when laughing, he knows that since their kindergarten story. But how busy is Jaemin actually in high school to not notice that Renjun has grown up into a very beautiful boy that stunning becomes an understatement now? Does he know that he is glowing and looking more ethereal as time passes by? Just like the star he calls beautiful all the time.
“Here, let me give you a better one,” Renjun slowly approaches his bestfriend with two arms apart before snaking them around Jaemin’s waist. He presses his body against him as he tightens his embrace.
“This is Renjun, Jaemin’s main support system, and I’m giving you a hug of support because this is… just what we losers do all the time?”
Jaemin encircles his arms around Renjun’s smaller figure, transferring warmth as much as he could so the boy won’t catch a cold the next morning. He returns the affection intuitively even though his mind wanders in another realm, looking for words and explanation to why his heart is beating violently and why does ‘star’ feel so foreign in his tongue. He has been telling people about the star he is about to reach and see but with Renjun in his arms, thoughts are shared and hearts are on each other’s sleeves, ‘star’ seems so far away, so overstating. The boy hugging him feels more real than anything he has ever drawn in his childhood about the future dream. Renjun fixes his position in Jaemin’s difficult childhood and lights his way until he can adapt to the surrounding, becomes his comfort zone in the living space he has to like.
Feeling the boldness is back in his bones and flesh, he runs his fingers through Renjun’s hair, gentle and affectionate. When he feels the boy smiles to his skin, Jaemin immediately corrects every single thought and mindset he has built for more than a decade. He has been wrong to think that his future dream involves the space and celestial objects. He has been wrong to think that Renjun is there to help him find his dream. He should stop focusing on giving a speck of star to him when he finally travels the space. Renjun is the star that his dictionary should define this whole time.
Jaemin feels the surge of relief run in his vein. He breathes them out to the open air, he feels lighter.
***
“Isn’t it cool that you stay true to your ‘catch a star’ idealism and actually enrol in the aeronautical engineering department? Well, even though it brings you no closer to any stars. Just the cloud.”
Jaemin doesn’t leave the equation in front of him, only smiling a little at the remark before adjusting his spectacles that slightly slide down the bridge of his nose. He glances up a little only to make sure Renjun is not stumbling upon the balcony’s railing and wasted in his twentieth year of life. He is too good to die foolishly.
“Unlike me. Business school nails you to the ground; to the society and their basic bitches,” says him bitterly.
“Are you whining, Injunie?” Jaemin teases from his seat, looking up only to receive a death glare from the said boy. He chuckles lightly and gets lost in the calculation again, fingers busy tapping the calculator. The silence doesn’t last long because Renjun starts pointing at the layer of stars, counting them under his breath, and exclaiming the brightest star that twinkles momentarily, wondering what star it will be.
This time, Jaemin really puts down his pen and tears his eyes from the algebra. He takes his time watching Renjun’s back, dressed under his Tranquility Base t-shirt that hangs down until the boy’s thigh. The easy shorts in the chilling October weather is a confrontation as Renjun develops a tendency to challenge the death as he grows up. Jaemin sees it very adorable because he ends up losing to the mother nature every time.
Renjun’s count of stars has lost its track when he feels Jaemin’s body is pressed to him from the back, his arms are conveniently resting around his waist. The taller’s breath is warm against his neck and he shivers. He quickly blames it to the chilling wind but God knows it’s Jaemin, his bestfriend.
“Do you want to know the reason I enter the aeronautical engineering?” says him right to his ear, low and nothing like his usual voice. Renjun only nods stiffly, doesn’t know if he is ready to hear it or not when Jaemin is standing too close like this.
“I mistook my future dream.”
“I can pave my way to be an astronaut easily. I look like I only have two brain cells, at least that’s what other people think of me, but I don’t. I don’t only have two brain cells and I don’t want to be an astronaut because I saw my future dream wrong.”
Renjun replies amidst his internal turmoil and haywired thoughts. “W-why? You told me you want to see the star for me.”
There’s a pregnant silence between them when all Renjun can feel is Jaemin’s coffee-laced breath.
“Because I define the star wrong. The star in my dictionary is different with other people. And I believe everyone has a different one for their own too.”
“What do you mean?” Renjun complies when Jaemin spins him to look at his eyes. Little Jaemin who he met in the kindergarten didn’t have such intense gaze and deep, dark brown orbs as he does now. And with such juxtaposition that he never encountered before, Renjun gets to point out details that he missed. The chubby, round jawline that’s chiselled now, sharper features of his face, and something unintelligible that inundates him with adult’s charm. Maybe because Jaemin is so calm and familiar that Renjun doesn’t notice them.
“I define the star wrong. Star is not any more ‘the natural luminous body visible in the sky especially night’, because my night is not like this,” Jaemin points out the nightfall. “My night is when I believe people see me as a failure. The antisocial kid who later will be nothing but a troublemaker.”
Renjun blinks, hesitating the thoughts in his mind, about where Jaemin is leading him because he hardly reads the taller’s mind even after years.
“All of the bullshit I told people, that I wanted to see the universe, that’s because I didn’t really have a purpose in life. I followed what you like in order to see if space and its objects would lead me to my future. Honestly, I never felt any draw to them. Instead of trying to figure out my dream, I did my best to make you happy even if I don’t know what you were talking about back then. And I kept changing Alpha Centauri’s name.
“I feel the attraction to you. The boy who brought light in a lusterless boy’s monochromatic life and induced him to have a purpose in life, a dream to live on. You are the star, Jun. You are my star,” Jaemin confesses. “I know it’s wrong to want to have you in my life forever. I just- you are my bestfriend and even though you are my reason to keep going on with this life, it’s not right to want more of what’s been established.”
Renjun doesn’t say a word, too caught in his own thought. To know that in his twenty, he is already a mean to someone else’s life is overwhelming. To know that it’s Jaemin, the person he’s loved for a long time is more overwhelming. The taller sounds softer and more fragile even with that baritone voice of him, something that sounds close to insecurity. And Renjun doesn’t like insecure Jaemin. It’s equal to waking up the destroyer beast he has tamed with so much difficulty and persuasion.
“I will not risk our friendship, Jun, I-”
“No.” Renjun chimes in, staring right to Jaemin’s eyes. He cups Jaemin’s face with his two hands gently. “It’s not wrong to want me in your life, you have the rights to want more of what’s been established between us, you are not risking our friendship, and you can cross the line, Jaemin.” The boy reddens at the last sentence and quickly corrects it before Jaemin has the time to think the connotation. “Not that line! The other- safer- line- you know-”
“Just fucking kiss me, idiot, and forget about your insecurity,” says him defeatedly.
Jaemin’s eyes glint, first with confusion and disbelief but soon changes to adoration and hope. A smile blooms on his face, the happiest that Renjun has ever seen in his life and he wonders what kind of superpower that he possesses to bring so much happiness in Jaemin’s face now.
Jaemin is still staring at him and smiling stupidly at him, sending warmth all over his body and painting his cheeks pink.
“Gosh, why am I falling in love with such an idiot like-”
The taller captures his lips, washing away all of the intended words and curse words he has formed in his tongue. Jaemin moves gently, not rushed like Renjun had thought because if he was him, he would kiss the light out of Jaemin like tomorrow didn’t exist. All the pining tension that stiffened his nerves must be tiring because he feels the same way. Renjun tangles his arms around Jaemin’s neck and plays with his locks as Jaemin begins exploring his mouth with tongue, making sure he leaves his trace correctly and impressively.
An unconscious moan escapes Renjun’s mouth when Jaemin’s knee brush his inner thigh a little and the taller parts away to laugh and gives them a break. Renjun punches him lightly on his chest before hiding his face in Jaemin’s crook of neck, the embarrassment burns him.
“You are really weird, Jaemin. You pulled away and laughed when your partner was feeling it, I don’t think I can continue this new relationship.”
“So, I should be carried away? And accidentally ‘cross the line’?”
“Do that and even if you call me Rigel, Arcturus, Canis Major, my lovely star, whatever, I won’t look back, Jaemin.”
“Stop spitting out those names, Injun, my brain is limited.”
“Shut me then.”
Jaemin doesn’t need to be told twice.
***
Lusterless little Jaemin is labelled as a knucklehead by society, a failed product of the millennia. Little Jaemin doesn’t care because he is busy making his snaggletooth boy happy. The bottom line of his life that doesn’t come out from a second-dimensional picture like other kids has on their paper. He is made of stardusts and wonders and shines brighter than all stars scientists can be proud of.
Huang Renjun is his star, he finally defines right.