Archive of Our Own

The sun was out, shining brightly down on the sea. The waves tossed and turned, white foam splashing at the tips of Chanyeol’s boots. It was quiet out there, the water glittering like a sheet of aluminium. Chanyeol stared over the water, his hands shoved into his pockets.

It had been over a year now. No one thought he was coming back. Even Jongdae had finally given up. His own brother did not think he was alive. But Chanyeol had to keep on hoping. He did not know what to do otherwise.

Chanyeol stroked his thumb over the engraving on his ring, chewing his lip. The waves licked at his boots, a breeze ruffling his hair.

“Yeol.” The voice made him look up. He turned to see Jongdae’s fiancé picking his way across the rocks. Chanyeol watched him trip, swearing when his foot slipped on a wet rock until he reached him. His face was soft with sympathy when he set a hand onto Chanyeol’s arm.

“Jongdae made breakfast,” he said quietly.

Chanyeol hummed in reply, turning his eyes back onto the sea. He stared for several moments more, just listening to the waves crashing against the rock, feeling the salt spray on his face. The water glistened, almost iridescent. His throat clogged up and he had to swallow back tears.

For the briefest moment, he thought he saw Junmyeon’s face reflected in the water, waving frantically. A tear slid down his cheek and he turned away, grasping onto Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Let’s go eat,” Baekhyun murmured, steering him away. Chanyeol nodded and they worked their way across the rocks in silence, accompanied only by the crashing of the waves.

Jongdae was waiting in the sunroom, the table already set with four plates. Chanyeol froze for a moment, his eyes flitting over the fourth place. He glanced up at Jongdae, who did not seem to realise what he had done until Baekhyun gripped his elbow, murmuring something into his ear.

“No, leave it please,” Chanyeol said, his voice ragged when Baekhyun made to take the plate away.

The pancakes smelled delicious, coupled with the plate of fruit Jongdae had cut and the maple syrup. But everything tasted like cardboard in Chanyeol’s mouth whenever he glanced over to see the empty spot where Junmyeon’s breakfast sat, untouched.

He tuned out Baekhyun’s quiet conversation, eating his pancakes methodically. When he reached for his glass of water, his hand froze mid-air.

Junmyeon’s face was in his water glass, lips opening and closing as if he was trying to say something. He looked just like he had when he had gone into the water that day, hair damp from sea spray.

Chanyeol’s hand shook when he gripped the glass. The water rippled and Junmyeon vanished.

“Chanyeol?”

Both Jongdae and Baekhyun were staring at him in concern.

“I’m okay,” Chanyeol said, his voice trembling. Was he hallucinating?

“Maybe you shouldn’t go into work today,” Jongdae said softly, “I’ll cover you.”

“No. I’ll do it. I’m fine,” Chanyeol said, standing up abruptly. “I just need to wash up.”

He left the sun room before either man could protest, rushing through his morning routine in the hopes that the hurry would push the thought of Junmyeon from his mind.

It was a small town and people talked. A man going missing in the water was uncommon news. Even though it had been a year, nothing really happened in small towns.

Chanyeol hated it. He hated the way gazes lingered, whispers starting wherever he walked. He hated the way people treated him like delicate glass, so fragile that he might break at the wrong word. He hated the look of pity he got every time he walked through the door of the florist.

There were no words exchanged as the woman wrapped up his gentians, Junmyeon’s favourite flowers, curling the ribbons in silence instead of teasing him gently when Chanyeol used to come in for them for date night.

The sight of them hurt, beautiful blooming flowers that used to frame Junmyeon’s face. He never failed to get excited about them, no matter how tired or burnt out he was.

Chanyeol stroked the blooms, setting them carefully in the passenger seat as he started the car.

It was nearly sunset when he reached the rocks where Junmyeon had been last seen. The waves were gentle, swishing softly against the sand as he walked along the shoreline. His shoes would be full of sand later when he got home.

But there would be no Junmyeon to gently scold him as he shook them out.

He clutched the bouquet to his chest, staring out over the water. Wind tugged at his hair, at the flowers in his hands. The air smelled like salt and tears when he laid the bouquet down onto the sand, the waves washing away the teardrops that landed beside it.

Chanyeol did not stay to watch the water take the flowers out to sea, to see the purple blooms disappear beneath the waves.

-

Junmyeon’s eyes fluttered open slowly. The light filtering in on the edge of his vision looked strange, almost distorted. He shifted and gasped when he realised that he was floating.

The air was cool against his skin but almost filmy in its quality. He sat up slowly, biting hard down on his lower lip when the air seemed to move to accommodate him. Junmyeon looked up at the ceiling, his eyes widening when he realised it looked like water.

Was he underwater? How was he breathing?

He moved slowly, warily until his feet touched the floor. Everything was white, tinged with blue and rippling. Sunlight cast strange shadows on the walls when he touched the gold frames that adorned it.

Where was he?

The last thing he remembered was the riptide. The water yanking at his shirt, at him. Tugging him beneath the surface. He had never been afraid of water before, but he had then.

He remembered thrashing, screaming for no one to hear. He remembered the water filling his lungs, the sunlight filtering through the surface slowly turning black.

Junmyeon shook himself, blinking tears that he did not know had begun falling, out of his eyes.

A draft swept through the strange room and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. Chanyeol had to be frantic by now. He had to get back.

One glance at his watch made his brow furrow. The clock hands were frozen at 11:22 am. The time that he had gone into the water. He had no way of telling what time it was.

A sudden wave of panic swept over Junmyeon and he knelt, scrunching up into a ball as he began to shake. He was in a strange place, his watch had stopped working and there was no visible way out. There was no way to tell how long he had been gone.

Breathe, Junmyeon, breathe. He chanted in his mind in between shaking gasps. Panicking won’t get you out.

He did not know how long he stayed like that, curled up in a ball on the floor of the unknown room.

It was a lilac sheen falling over his eyes that made him look up as if something had blocked out the sun. Junmyeon took a shuddering breath, slowly unfurling. There was no more strength in his legs when he tried to stand, staring up at the bouquet of gentians quite literally floating above his head.

“Chanyeol,” he rasped, his hand trembling as he reached for the bouquet. He gasped when he touched it, solid under his skin.

The gentians fell into his arms, completely waterlogged. But they were still fragrant, even though the paper wrapped around them had all but disintegrated.

Junmyeon touched the ribbons, tears beginning to drip down his face again.

Chanyeol was waiting.

He hugged the flowers to his chest, inhaling deeply. As if it had read his mind, something creaked in the corner of the room. Junmyeon spun, sucking in a sharp breath when the wall moved on its own accord, sinking back to reveal a passageway.

The passage was empty, the walls a dull grey. Perhaps that was the lack of light but Junmyeon stepped forward anyway. His footsteps echoed as he walked, eerie in the hollow silence.

He froze when the wall behind him slid close with a creaking sound. The gentians in his arms were a comforting weight. He clutched them close, counting his steps as he put one foot in front of the other, trying not to think about the oppressing walls.

The hallway opened into another room, walls painted white but Junmyeon saw only grey. The only thing within the room was a strangely familiar water fountain.

Junmyeon nearly dropped his gentians, his heart tripping in his chest when he saw the sculpted dolphins, water spouting from their beaks.

It was the fountain where he had first met Chanyeol.

Almost as if it could see the memory in his head, the walls flickered and Junmyeon found himself leaning against the fountain even though he had no memory of walking there.

He stared, wide-eyed, around him as students bustled across the green lawn. His gentians had been transformed into stacks of school books, the corner poking harshly into his ribcage.

Junmyeon looked down and sure enough, he was dressed in his old school uniform. He turned to look into the fountain and shrieked when he saw Chanyeol’s face staring back at him.

“Chanyeol?” he called tentatively. His books wobbled and suddenly he was in the empty room again, holding a bouquet of wilting flowers.

The fountain was silent, with only the occasional dripping of water echoing in the room.

Junmyeon trembled, setting the flowers at the edge of the stone. He leaned over, peering into the water.

Chanyeol’s face stared back at him, pale and thin, devoid of the smile he had fallen in love with. He looked sick.

Junmyeon’s heart clenched. He touched his fingers to the water, gasping when it caused ripples to spread across the surface.

“Chanyeol? Chanyeol, it’s me,” he said, unsure if he could even be heard.

But Chanyeol had vanished.

Junmyeon swallowed, perching on the edge of the fountain. Colours swirled across the room’s walls, so bright that he had to close his eyes.

When he opened them, he was back in the courtyard, his stack of books threatening to fall over.

Junmyeon stared, wide-eyed as a much younger Chanyeol strode across the lawn, chatting with invisible people. He followed him with his eyes, watching with a pang in his heart as he disappeared behind the school doors.

The scene flickered and Junmyeon found himself sitting at the base of the fountain. The grass crinkled under his fingertips when he touched it, yellowed.

Leaves the colour of flame floated down from the trees, one landing in his hair. He moved to pluck it out, hand freezing in motion when someone bounded up to him, a shadow blocking out the sun.

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon murmured under his breath, watching as Chanyeol’s face changed from youthful delight to thin and wan. “Chanyeol, I’m here!”

The scene faded around him, but all Junmyeon could see was Chanyeol reflected in the water before him. He was looking back, wide-eyed.

He had heard him.

-

Loss was a strange thing. Even when his entire world had been ripped out from under him, it went on. The world went on turning, no matter how much it felt like time had stopped.

Chanyeol could not remember how it felt to wake up without pain anymore. His heart ached from the moment he opened his eyes and realised that he had spent yet another day without Junmyeon at his side.

He went about his daily routine, pausing every so often to watch the way the sunlight shone in from the floor-length glass walls.

No matter how long they had stayed there, Junmyeon had always taken a moment to admire how the sun’s rays lit up the living room. Sometimes, Chanyeol would tease him about it and he would merely smile, stealing a kiss before going on to make breakfast.

The jam did not taste as good as when Junmyeon would make it. Chanyeol did not know how to make it and neither did Jongdae. So they made do with store-bought.

The gentians in the living room vase were drooping when he set the table. Chanyeol touched a delicate petal with one finger, thinking about all the times Junmyeon swapped out the flowers for fresh ones before he could even see them wilt.

With trembling hands, he pulled the flowers from the vase, tossing them into the trash.

Breakfast was a hollow, empty affair with the empty vase. And the empty seat.

Jongdae had taken one look at the sad, colourless table and left. Chanyeol heard his car start before Baekhyun could even stop him and he was pulling out of the driveway so fast that the tyres squealed.

They had picked their way through the food when Jongdae returned, sweaty and flushed, clutching a bouquet of fresh gentians in his arms.

He went straight to the sink without a word, ignoring the cold toast on the table.

Snip, snip went the kitchen scissors and they could all hear the sounds of stems thudding into the bottom of the sink.

Baekhyun cleared his plates without a word, picking up the empty vase. He shot Chanyeol a sympathetic look as he set the vase down beside his fiancé, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

Chanyeol dumped his own plates into the sink.

“I’m heading out,” he said to the empty air, “won’t be home for dinner.”

At that, Jongdae turned, his mouth furrowed but Chanyeol was out the door and down the steps before he could even say another word.

The store was quiet as he unlocked the door. It was dark inside but that never bothered Chanyeol. Junmyeon, on the other hand, had always thought it was creepy whenever he followed Chanyeol into work.

Chanyeol flicked the lights on, listening as the ancient water fountain at the centre of the store bubbled to life. It had a for sale tag attached to it but no one ever bought it.

Junmyeon loved that old thing. Despite the fact that it had strange chimaera etchings and sculptures that spouted water. He said it reminded him of where they had met and Chanyeol could only smile endearingly whenever he was met with that argument.

Now looking at it only brought him pain.

Chanyeol ran a cloth over the stone basin catching the water, staring at the chimaera’s blank eyes. What he would give to have Junmyeon back with him, tracing the stupid etchings with a curious finger, chattering about nothing while Chanyeol cleaned up the shop.

He was so deep in thought that he nearly missed the water speaking.

Chanyeol blinked, looking down at the stream of water turning into a miniature waterfall. His eyes widened in shock at when he saw the face in the water.

“I’m here! Chanyeol, I’m here!” Chanyeol shuddered, his grip on the edge of the stone fountain tightening. Though his image flickered in and out, there was no mistaking that beautiful face.

It was Junmyeon.

“Please tell me I’m hallucinating,” Chanyeol muttered, staring at the multicoloured image of Junmyeon dancing in and out amongst the tiny waterfall spilling from the fountain. There was no one in the shop yet. It was too early for the other employees to be around and he was grateful for it. They would take one look at him talking to a pool of water and call Jongdae.

“Chanyeol, it’s me.” Junmyeon’s voice floated into the air, musical and rippling like the water he was trapped in.

“How- where are you? You’re dead. That’s what the police said. You can’t be here,” Chanyeol said aloud, his voice trembling. Bile was rising up in his throat as he thumbed over his ring, memories rushing through his mind. It was as if it had happened yesterday, the wind rushing through his hair as he combed the beach until it was dark.

The brilliance of a torch like a homing beacon in the night. The sea had been wild, rushing and roaring with the threat of storm clouds looming overhead. They had searched for days but there was nothing left of him.

No body, no belongings.

It was as if Junmyeon had just simply vanished.

“I’m stuck. It was a rip current. Chanyeol, love, you look so pale,” Junmyeon said, his tone concerned. His brow furrowed as Chanyeol stared back at him, guilt and terror clogging his throat.

“A rip current should have drowned you. How- how are you speaking to me? Or is this all in my head?”

“I thought I was dead too, love. You should sit down.”

Chanyeol sucked in a sharp breath.

“Where are you?” he asked harshly, “we searched for you. For so long that even the police gave up. Jongdae gave up.”

“How long- how long have I been gone?” Junmyeon had gone very pale, stammering.

“A year. It’s been over a year, Junmyeon.” Chanyeol squeezed his eyes shut, trying to filter out the pain with every breath.  

“Oh dear god.”

Junmyeon’s hair was tousled, messy and he looked like a frightened rabbit. Chanyeol wanted to scoop him up and hold him close at once.

“Where are you? I’ll come and get you. Just tell me where you are,” he demanded, gripping the edge of the stone bowl so hard that his knuckles turned white.

“I- I don’t know. I woke up in a roo-” Junmyeon’s image flickered like a bad TV connection. Chanyeol’s gut lurched.

“Jun- what’s happening?” he asked, frantic, when Junmyeon’s expression contorted like he was in pain. The image flickered once, and then twice before he was gone.

Chanyeol stared at the empty water, wide-eyed. He took a shuddering breath, trailing his fingers through the sheet of running water. It seemed so calm, so gentle, such a stark contrast to the whirlpool of emotions churning inside him that he lost his temper.

His fist slammed into rough stone, pain exploding through his nerves. Chanyeol suppressed the urge to scream, his chest heaving.

Purple bruises were beginning to bloom from beneath his skin when he took a step back, trying to find air.

Was this some big cosmic joke?

He had spent so long grieving him, almost giving up hope. And now-

Junmyeon was alive.

Chanyeol rubbed at his knuckles, gasping like a fish. He needed space. The antique shop suddenly felt far too cluttered and claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on him.

“Chanyeol.” A hand on his shoulder shocked him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Jongdae standing behind him, brows furrowed in concern.

“Why are you here?” he croaked.

“Minseok called. He said you didn’t look so good. I’m covering your shift. Go home and rest, Yeollie.”

Chanyeol shook his head, still staring at the water trickling down from the fountain. It sang merrily as it fell, almost mocking. He slammed his fist into the basin again, making Jongdae jump.

“I’m going to get him back,” he muttered, not noticing the way Jongdae’s face creased with concern as he stormed away, another bruise growing on his skin.

He did not go home like Jongdae wanted him to. Instead, he drove down to the beach again, to the boardwalk this time and sat behind the wheel, watching the waves wash in over the shore.

“Where are you?” Chanyeol whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. He smacked his steering wheel, swearing when he bumped his bruises.

All this time and Junmyeon had been alive. He said he was stuck. Where could he be stuck in?

-

Junmyeon screamed when the floor opened up beneath him. He free-fell through empty sky, screaming for no one to hear until everything went black.

Sunlight filtered through his closed lids, grey and green, milky. It looked funny, distorted somewhat, like a refraction.

His cheek was pillowed against something soft and for a moment, Junmyeon had a flicker of hope that he was home.

He rolled over hesitantly, his body aching in all sorts of new ways. One arm stretched across and he touched linen.

“Chanyeol?” he murmured under his breath, inhaling. The linens smelled like home, tinged faintly with saltwater. The empty side of the bed was warm as if Chanyeol had only just gotten up.

Junmyeon’s eyes flew open and the fragile hope shattered.

He was lying on a bed in the middle of a forest, surrounded by dark green, imposing trees. The sunlight looked strange filtering through all that green, cascading over Junmyeon like a waterfall of light.

Junmyeon crawled out of the bed, staring around him in wonder.

“Chanyeol?” he called hopefully, grasping at the still-warm bed linens that was quickly growing cold.

A shadow flitted across the trees out of the corner of his eyes and Junmyeon jerked, snapping his neck so hard that he got whiplash.

For a moment, the shadow was still enough for him to recognize its shape.

“Chanyeol!” Junmyeon swung off the bed, staggering to his feet. His heart was in his mouth when the shadow darted away as if it had heard him call out.

“Chanyeol, wait!” Junmyeon broke into a run, stumbling and tripping over tiny pebbles that seemed to come out of nowhere. He scrambled up the hill, following the shadow as it walked, always two steps ahead of him.

Sometimes he would see a glimpse of a jacket-covered shoulder peeking through the trees and that would be enough to spur him on. Others, he saw Chanyeol’s back, walking away from him.

He tripped once, rolling his ankle on a rock and Chanyeol appeared to slow for a moment as if to check on him. Junmyeon’s heart tripped but it was a fleeting moment before he was continuing on briskly, far ahead of him.

Junmyeon heard laughter, echoing from behind the tall trees, as if there were other people watching, with them. His skin crawled at the feeling of eyes on him, people always watching, always judging.

It dragged at his heels as he stumbled up the hill, panting, shame coating his cheeks in red when Chanyeol climbed it with no issues. He did not seem to feel the weight that Junmyeon did, climbing that hill.

Junmyeon chased after him for what felt like hours, footsteps only slowing when he realised that it was futile. He was crying, tears streaming down his face when he stopped, hands braced on his knees.

His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, sobbing Chanyeol’s name. He could not reach him.

Chanyeol was too quick, his footsteps too sure in this land unknown to Junmyeon. Junmyeon fumbled and he tripped and fell and stumbled over rocks that he had never seen before trying to catch up.

Branches scratched at his face and arms like claws and soon, his shirt was damp with sweat and dew dripping from the leaves.

It felt like when they had first started dating. Chanyeol was always so sure of himself and his place when Junmyeon floundered.

A wave of terror washed over Junmyeon when he saw Chanyeol’s figure growing farther and farther away. Was he leaving him? Did Chanyeol not want him anymore?

He sucked in a sharp breath, placing his foot straight down onto a sharp rock. Pain exploded through him when his ankle rolled and he fell hard.

Dirt smeared all over his pants and white shirt. His ankle was throbbing so badly that he wanted to give up.

He was freezing, breath puffing from his lips into mist. Somehow the air had gotten colder until he was shivering uncontrollably.

The figure in the distance had stopped moving. He could see its shadow climbing up a tree as if Chanyeol was waiting for him to get up again.

Junmyeon rubbed his throbbing ankle, trying to rise to his feet but his ankle simply would not hold him. He muffled a sob of frustration, fingers digging into the dirt when the figure started to move once more.

“Chanyeol, please wait!” he gasped, “wait for me! I can’t run anymore!”

As if he had flipped a switch, Chanyeol stopped, a ray of light piercing straight into Junmyeon’s eyes.

Junmyeon flung up an arm to shield himself, gasping at the cold biting through his clothes. He could hear footsteps thudding against the dirt, occasionally crunching on a leaf.

Something warm draped around his shoulders before the world spun violently.

Junmyeon opened his eyes to see Chanyeol smiling down at him. One glance around told him that he was no longer in the strange woods, but rather, at one of those first parties that Chanyeol had invited him to when they were still dating. The one Junmyeon had been reluctant to stay at.

He spent that night on a couch with a red solo cup sticky in his hands, watching Chanyeol mingle. He remembered the eyes that watched him, lip-glossed lips whispering in dark corners and girls and guys alike that draped themselves over his boyfriend, cutting glares his way. Perhaps they were daring him to say something.

It was still cold even with the sweater that he regretted wearing. Everyone stared and though they said nothing, he knew they wondered what Chanyeol saw in him. Even Junmyeon wondered what he saw in him.

Junmyeon remembered the chills that wracked his body, the goosebumps rising on his arms and the way it felt as though the room had converged around him, his ears full of whispers.

He thought he would have gotten used to it. Chanyeol had invited him to multiple parties that all felt the same. But nothing had changed. Junmyeon was still the weirdo, the teacher’s pet. Not even a popular boyfriend could change that.

He had run out when he finally got up the courage to move, the liquid in the red cup spilling over the disgusting vinyl of the couch.

It was pouring out. Chanyeol had driven him there. He could see his car, in all its flashy red glory and remembered the furious urge to scratch it up, break down and cry.

The rain came down in sheets so hard that the world blurred. It soaked through his sweater, the fabric sticking to his skin as he took another step out from the sheltered stoop.

Lightning flashed across the sky. Junmyeon jumped when thunder followed, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. He wiped at his fringe, gasping when the rain sprayed at him, freezing cold.

He would have to walk home, like a loser. And everyone would have watched him leave without telling Chanyeol.

A sob caught itself in Junmyeon’s throat. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering violently. The rain was not going to stop anytime soon, soaking into his jeans.

Those were his nice jeans too, the straight cut skinny jeans that made Chanyeol do a double-take when he came to pick him up. They did not have holes like his but Junmyeon was not quite there yet.

Maybe he would never get there. Never be quite good enough to hang out with Chanyeol and his friends. Maybe one day too soon, Chanyeol would realise it too and wake up. And walk away.

Junmyeon sniffled, hugging himself as he walked along the sidewalk. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky and he jumped again at the thunder that cracked down right after.

The thunder and the rain were so loud that they drowned out the sound of footsteps racing down the concrete.

Junmyeon jerked around in shock when something big and warm was draped around his shoulders, large hands wrapping around him. He turned to see Chanyeol staring down at him with a furrowed brow, his hair flattened to his head by the rain.

“Chanyeol, I-.”

“Myeon, you must be freezing. You should have told me you wanted to leave. Come on, I’ll take you home,” Chanyeol cut him off, taking his hand. He did not seem upset at all, just confused.

Junmyeon stared as he was led into the back of Chanyeol’s car, both of them dripping water all over the expensive leather seats.

Chanyeol cranked the heater up, leaving the radio off because the sound of the rain pounding down would only drown it out.

“You don’t have to-” Junmyeon tried when the engine rumbled to life. He hugged himself, pulling Chanyeol’s jacket tighter around him.

“Myeonnie. I’m your boyfriend. And I don’t want you to get sick walking in this rain,” Chanyeol said, reaching over to hold his hand. Junmyeon let go of the jacket to take it, squeezing it tight. He did not speak, holding onto the hand like it was his lifeline as they drove across the town.

It was a quiet drive with just the sound of the rain drumming down onto the car roof as they drove. Chanyeol never made to let go of Junmyeon’s hand until he pulled into Junmyeon’s driveway.

The porch light was still on. Jongdae always left it like that whenever Junmyeon was late home.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Junmyeon prepared himself for what he expected to be the last time he would ever sit in Chanyeol’s car. He did not expect for Chanyeol to reach into the backseat, pull out an umbrella before jumping out into the rain to open his door for him.

“Chanyeol-,” he started uncertainly but Chanyeol was leaning down, backing him into the wet car. Junmyeon gasped a little when he kissed him, fingers flying up to catch Chanyeol’s damp shirt.

“Don’t apologize. We had a deal remember?” Chanyeol murmured against his lips. Junmyeon exhaled when he stepped back, trailing a thumb over his cheekbone tenderly.

He remembered. Of course, he did. Chanyeol thought he apologized too much.

“Won’t your friends be waiting on you?” he asked instead when Chanyeol laced their fingers together, walking him to the porch. The umbrella did very little against the pouring rain and they were both already soaked anyway.

“They’ll call me in the morning,” Chanyeol said with a smile, leaning down to kiss his forehead. Junmyeon stared up at him, unconvinced.

“Let me stay the night?” Chanyeol asked softly, “I don’t want to drive in this rain. I can take the couch.”

Junmyeon blinked. He thought that Chanyeol would have wanted to go back to the party. Perhaps drop him off, give him a kiss enough to knock him off his feet before disappearing back into his glamorous party boy life. He was not expecting him to want to stay.

“Okay,” he murmured, still in disbelief. Chanyeol’s jacket was soaking wet on his shoulders but he had never felt quite so warm as he led him into the house, both of them dripping water all over the hardwood.

Junmyeon remembered lying in bed, listening to Chanyeol’s careful tread outside, the soft kiss pressed to his cheek before he took the couch like a gentleman. He remembered holding on to Chanyeol’s jacket for days, never quite daring to wear it but just holding it, hugging it.

The world spun and Junmyeon came back into himself, gasping as he clutched at the imaginary jacket around his shoulders. There were tears streaming down his face as he stared around him, the room hollow and empty.

“Chanyeol?” he called softly, half hoping. The wall rippled like water and he jerked back, gaping when Chanyeol’s face appeared.

-

It was hard to sleep, knowing that Junmyeon was alive and out there waiting. Chanyeol had no idea where or how he was going to get him back. He lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling, hugging the pendant that Junmyeon had given to him years ago. It was a birthday gift, the first birthday that he had shared with him.

Clutching it in his hands, he tossed and turned, listening to the waves churning outside.

What had it felt like? Had it hurt when the current dragged him down? Was it even real or had he been hallucinating the entire time?

He awoke to the smell of burning. For a moment, Chanyeol thought that there was a fire in the house. He rolled over, expecting to see smoke billowing into his room.

But he was met with an empty wall.

Blinking, Chanyeol climbed out of bed, taking a step forward. He was in a room with three white walls and a long hallway stretching out into darkness.

The smell of flames was coming from the end of the hallway.

Something jingled in his pocket and Chanyeol looked down. His fingers closed around a shiny chain, the pendant that Junmyeon had given him.

He was not sure if it was a dream. It felt like one, the walls rippling as if he was underwater.

Chanyeol took a step forward, jumping when something flickered at the end of the hallway.

Light.

“Junmyeon?” he called, squeezing his fist around the pendant. The light flickered once more and he broke into a run, his heart thumping in his chest. His blood roared in his ears as he ran towards the light.

His footsteps echoed in the empty hall, dissipating when the hallway widened into a room.

Chanyeol stared, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. It was hot in the room and no wonder, for it was filled with rows upon rows of candles. Flames flickered, casting strange shadows that danced on the walls.

It was so bright that it hurt to look at them, the light searing across his eyes.

“Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol gaped when a figure appeared before him, shrouded in the glowing light.

It was Junmyeon, looking clean and fresh, not a strand of hair out of place. He looked beautiful, lips curved into a soft smile.

Chanyeol found himself speechless, the hollow in his chest suddenly full again.

He took a stumbling step forward, clutching at the pendant in his hand. Junmyeon looked back at him, his eyes gentle and kind. He raised his hand, palm up, expectant.

Chanyeol reached for him but before their hands could touch, a movement behind the bright lights startled them both.

Chanyeol had to blink and look again, for he was certain that his eyes were deceiving him.

Hidden in the shadows, tucked away behind the candles was another Junmyeon. Unlike the one in front of him, this one was hunched up, as if he was trying to scrunch into himself. His clothes were damp and dirty and there were scratches on his cheeks and up along his arms. He looked utterly defeated.

Chanyeol looked back towards the smiling Junmyeon, hand still outstretched, just waiting for him to touch him.

Swallowing, he grasped at the pendant, casting another glance in the direction of the dirty Junmyeon. That one did not even look in his direction,  his eyes cast down at the floor.

“Junmyeon?”

Both men looked at him, the dirty one looking away at once before their gazes connected.

Chanyeol shuddered, biting down hard on his lip. Was this a test? How was he supposed to know which one was his?

Hesitantly, he thumbed over the stone on his pendant.

The walls of the room flickered. All of the candles went out at once, plunging the room into darkness that lasted all but a split second.

Chanyeol gaped.

He was back in the school hall, where Junmyeon was named valedictorian. The speech he held in his hand was damp with sweat and tears. Chanyeol would know.

They had spent weeks poring over it, the perfectionist in Junmyeon determined to make every word meaningful. Chanyeol remembered kissing his forehead, pouring him tea and snuggling in his bed while Junmyeon wrote draft after draft.

It was a huge honour. And Junmyeon wanted to get it right.

“Come to bed,” Chanyeol slurred, glancing blearily at the red numbers of Junmyeon’s alarm clock. “It’ll still be there tomorrow, Myeonnie, please.”

“No. I had- I had a phrase. I need to get it out before I forget it.”

Amidst Junmyeon’s frustration and rustling of papers, Chanyeol had fallen asleep. He awoke to see Junmyeon sprawled over his papers, his cheeks damp with tears.

Chanyeol thumbed at the silver tracks on Junmyeon’s face, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“You work too hard,” he murmured, regretting it when Junmyeon stirred, turning over.

The scenes flickered, like a movie on fast forward.

Chanyeol saw Junmyeon on the verge of a breakdown over his work, him dragging him out to a party that Junmyeon very obviously did not want to attend and that one date night that ended in a spectacular fight.

Chanyeol had gotten a black eye courtesy of Jongdae for that one.

He watched, guilt settling like a rock in his stomach as Junmyeon emerged from the bedroom. He looked like a dream, his hair swept back with that one stubborn strand hanging in his face.

Chanyeol tucked it behind his ear, smiling when it simply flopped back again. He straightened Junmyeon’s collar, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, feeling Junmyeon’s lips curve against his.

“Thank you,” Junmyeon replied shyly, taking the bouquet of gentians that Chanyeol had gotten from his favourite florist. He hugged the flowers close, fingers stroking over the satiny ribbon.

Chanyeol laced their hands together, his heart bubbling with warmth. He led him to the car and they drove out onto the pier.

The moon was shining by the time they left the restaurant, full and happy.

Chanyeol had a glass too many and Junmyeon had indulged too. Their hands brushed against each other as they walked along the boardwalk, the night breeze ruffling their hair.

The waves washed gently against the shore, familiar and soothing and the wind smelled like salt and the ocean.

“Look,” Junmyeon murmured, pointing. He traced a line in the sky, leaning into Chanyeol’s space. It made Chanyeol’s heart trip. Junmyeon was never big into PDA and he still had some hang-ups about being in a relationship with a man.

It was that gesture that made him brave enough to reach over and tangle their fingers together. To his delight, Junmyeon let him, turning to look at him with a brilliant smile.

Chanyeol loved that smile. He tucked himself into Junmyeon’s side, paying more attention to the man himself than the constellations that Junmyeon was pointing out to him.  

He could see the stars reflected in Junmyeon’s eyes when they stopped at the edge of the pier, listening to the waves lap beneath them. Chanyeol leaned in close and Junmyeon turned to face him, smiling bigger than he had ever seen him smile and Chanyeol could not help but lift his hand to brush a lock his hair away from his face.

A noise from behind them made him jump and the moment was broken.

Junmyeon lurched away, blinking in confusion.

Chanyeol turned to glare at the three men who had interrupted them. They all had sneers on their faces, lips curled in contempt.

“Beat it,” Chanyeol growled. He knew them. The entire town knew them. They were nothing more than bullies and would never be anything else.

He wound an arm protectively around Junmyeon’s waist, hating the way his heart shrivelled when Junmyeon stiffened.

“Didn’t know you were a fag too, Kim. Seungri told me about you but I didn’t believe it,” the one in the middle leered. Junmyeon shrank back at once, shaking off Chanyeol’s hand.

“We- we aren’t- I’m not-” he stuttered, tucking his hands into his pockets and Chanyeol’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yes, we are. And?” he snarled, ignoring Junmyeon’s whimper.

“The town would be better off with all of you gone,” another sneered, “if you think you’re better than all of us because you went to some Ivy League school, Park, you’re dead wrong.”

“Well, at least I’m educated enough to know that love is love!” Chanyeol shot back. “And that our relationship is none of your business.”

The idiots ignored him, their gazes turning to Junmyeon. Chanyeol could practically feel Junmyeon shrivelling up, shrinking into himself. He moved to stand in front of him protectively.

“Watch yourself, Kim. If your parents hear about this.”

Junmyeon’s sharp inhale made Chanyeol’s blood boil. He glared, narrowing his eyes.

“Was that a threat, Seojun? Did you forget how badly I trashed your ass and need a reminder?”

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon murmured lowly. Chanyeol did not take his eyes off the three men even when he felt a gentle tug on the hem of his shirt.

“You threaten him again and I’ll break you like a twig, you hear me?”

“Chanyeol! Stop it. We’re just friends,” Junmyeon cut in. Even though he knew that the last sentence was said for them and not him, it still cut deep to hear it.

Chanyeol could barely contain the fury bubbling in his veins when they finally made it past the three assholes. His night was officially ruined when Junmyeon refused to get on his bike.

“I’ll walk. It’s better if they don’t see us together,” Junmyeon said, his voice small and tight.

“Is this how it’s always going to be?” Chanyeol asked, unable to help himself. His grip on his helmet tightened when Junmyeon looked away. “Us hiding our relationship from everyone but Jongdae?”

“Chanyeol. You know I can’t-”

“You can. No one in this town gives a fuck what we do. That’s why we came here. It’s just those three idiots that you let under your skin.”

“That’s not true. I- I don’t mean to-”

“To what? I haven’t even told Yoora about us because you won’t let me. She’s my sister.”

“Yeol-”

“I’m tired of this, Myeon. You never stand up for me. For us. I don’t understand why you’re so afraid. Am I not good enough? I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you and still you insist on keeping this a secret. You barely even let me hold your hand in public.”

Junmyeon was trembling where he stood, his eyes wide and glossy. His lip was bleeding from where he had bitten it so hard he broke skin.

“Yeol, I- I’m- sorry.”

“I just don’t understand why it’s so hard. I love you, Junmyeon. I really do.”

Chanyeol gritted his teeth, putting on his helmet and snapping the straps so hard that they stung against his skin.

“See you at home,” he snapped when Junmyeon opened his mouth to say something else. They had this argument before. Many times and he had been patient. Until tonight, he thought they had been making progress.

Without a backward glance, he swung onto his bike, revving the engine. Sand kicked up around him as he drove off. He saw red as he rode away, going so far over the speed limit that the world blurred around him.

Chanyeol did not return to the glass house. He stopped by a convenience store, bought a six-pack and rode down to the beach.

He reclined against the rocks and drank, one after another until all he could feel was a pleasant buzzing in his veins and the sound of the waves in his ears.

The stars in the sky were blurry when he stared up at them, blearily remembering how they looked reflected in Junmyeon’s eyes. His heart twanged painfully and he shoved the memory away, tossing a glass bottle so hard against the rocks that it shattered.

Those shards would be washed out to sea, tumbling over and over again until jagged edges were worn smooth. Chanyeol wondered if that was what would happen to him and Junmyeon.

If he would get so used to the repeated pain of being pushed away in public that he would become numb to all emotion. If eventually, his jagged, passionate love would eventually be worn down into calm.

Perhaps that was what Junmyeon wanted.

But that was not what Chanyeol wanted. He wanted to shout his love from the rooftops, let the world know just how wonderful Junmyeon was. That he did not care what people thought of them, as long as he had Junmyeon by his side.

Chanyeol rolled over into his side, groping around blindly in his pocket when he felt something vibrate. He yanked out his phone, tossing it onto the sand.

He must have fallen asleep because when he awoke, the sky was bright, sun rays piercing his eyes.

“You son of a bitch!” Jongdae’s voice hurt his ears and made his head spin in a different way. Chanyeol staggered back, clutching at his face in shock. The punch was just enough to shock him into full sobriety.

“What the fuck?” he gaped, blinking at Junmyeon’s little brother.

“Where the hell have you been? You take Junmyeon out, he comes home alone, a crying mess and you dare to show your face the next morning? Get the fuck out of my house, Park Chanyeol.”

“Jongdae.”

At the sound of his voice, Chanyeol looked up. His heart seemed to stop beating in his chest when he fully processed Junmyeon sitting at the table, hands folded demurely before him.

He had bags under his eyes, rimmed with red as if he had been crying all night. His shoulders hunched a little when Chanyeol dragged his eyes over him as if he wanted to shrink away.

“Come inside and have breakfast. You must be starving.”

As if on cue, Chanyeol’s stomach grumbled.

Junmyeon’s lips twitched and the rock in Chanyeol’s heart vanished. They were alright. All was forgiven.

Or was it?

Chanyeol bought him flowers and new paintbrushes, a peace offering but as the scene faded before his eyes, he realised that he had never apologized. They had never spoken of it again.

Just swept it under the rug and pretended it never happened.

How many times had he done that? Been insensitive to Junmyeon’s pain and insecurities? Just because he did not understand, could not relate?

Scenes flickered across the walls, brief moments in time. Chanyeol saw himself lecturing Junmyeon about hurting himself, kissing his palm when he saw crescent moons left by his nails. Junmyeon’s nails were ragged and torn by years of nail-biting. He remembered a brief conversation that they had. Junmyeon had mentioned that he understood why people hurt themselves.

Chanyeol had brushed it off, never turning to look at Junmyeon’s face to see the pain. He remembered chalking it up to sadomasochism, even joking about it. He remembered hearing needles clacking away, poking his head into a room to Junmyeon frowning down at a ball of yarn as if it would make his worries disappear.

How could he have not seen? Or worse, had he seen and not cared?

Chanyeol shuddered, swallowing hard when the two Junmyeons reappeared before him. He could see clearly now.

They were both his Junmyeon. One shrouded in darkness, perpetually in shadow and the other lit in light, radiant. To ignore one was to take away a part of Junmyeon.

How long had Junmyeon hidden away? Never showing Chanyeol his dark side because he was afraid? Because of how Chanyeol had chosen to ignore his fears and insecurities?

Chanyeol’s stomach churned with nausea as he stared at the two Junmyeons. His heart was like a jagged rock in his chest, heavy and piercing.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m sorry that I never let you show me your pain.”

The two figures flickered and blurred, the candles glowing so brightly that Chanyeol had to shield his eyes.

When he could see again, there was only one Junmyeon staring back at him.

“Myeonnie?”

“Chanyeol!”

It was Junmyeon.

“Junmyeon! Where are you?”

“I- where are you?”

“I don’t know. I woke up and followed a light. Junmyeon, I’m sorry. I truly am. I should have listened. I should have seen.”

Junmyeon blinked. His gaze turned soft and Chanyeol had never wanted more to hold him in his arms.

“It’s alright, Yeol. I should have let you in. I was just- too scared. I was afraid you would leave if things got hard. I had no faith, so I’m sorry too.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, the silence only broken when Chanyeol reached out to try and touch his face, his fingers going right through the projection.

“I’m going to come home, Yeollie. I promise. I just- I think I know how now.”

“Tell me. How can I help?”

The wry twist to Junmyeon’s lips made Chanyeol’s breath catch. He was damp and his hair was mussed but somehow, he was still the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

“I don’t think you can, Yeollie. I have to do this on my own. I know.” He stopped when Chanyeol opened his mouth to protest. “I wish you could be here. Chase away my monsters for me. But you can’t. I have to face my demons on my own, Yeol. Only then I can be the best version of myself.”

“I don’t need the best version of you. I just want you,” Chanyeol choked, wrapping his arms around himself. He missed him. Missed the warmth in his bed, the laughter and the smiles. Even half of Junmyeon had been enough to fill his heart and his life.

“I know. But I don’t think I’m doing this for you. I’m doing this for me. I need to know me before I can know you again.”

“Please come back to me,” Chanyeol whispered, folding his arms across his chest in an effort to keep himself from hugging the projection, empty air.

“I will. I will, my love. Just wait for me.” Junmyeon’s voice was filled with conviction, his gaze tender. Chanyeol nodded, sucking in a sharp breath when the image flickered and the room went dark.

He stood in the dark for a moment, listening to the dripping of water. It was agonizingly slow, each drop making a plopping sound when it hit the ground.

Chanyeol closed his eyes as the dripping grew louder and faster until it sounded like rushing water. Someone grabbed his shoulder. He jerked awake, his eyes flying open in shock.

Jongdae stared down at him, knees covered in sand. His brows were creased with concern as he cupped his face.

“What- how-” Chanyeol gasped, sitting bolt upright. His legs were covered in sand, the little granules burrowed under his nails, coating his arms. His back ached, twinging badly when he tried to get his legs under himself.

“You weren’t in the house when we woke up,” Jongdae said quietly, “so I came to look for you.”

“I- I saw Junmyeon,” Chanyeol blurted out, turning his head. He could still hear rushing water, like a river flowing into a waterfall.

Tilting his head, he frowned. That made no sense. He was by the seaside, at the spot where Junmyeon was last seen. His head was pillowed against a rock and when he turned over, the sound grew softer.

“Yeol,” Jongdae said, very small. He looked so sad that Chanyeol had to lean up and hug him, tugging him into his lap.

“He’s going to come home. He’s alive, Dae. He’s coming home.”

Jongdae stared at him, shaking his head.

“I think you need to see someone, Yeol. Do you even remember walking out here last night?”

Chanyeol stopped, blinking. The last thing he remembered was crawling into bed, tears streaking down his face.

“You were dreaming, Chanyeol. He’s been gone a year- he’s not coming back-”

“N-no. I saw him. I saw him, Jongdae. In the fountain at work. He was there.”

“Chanyeol.” Jongdae cupped his face, shaking his head harder. “Chanyeol, stop it.”

“No, you stop it!” Chanyeol shoved him off, a blaze of anger lighting in his chest. Jongdae stared up at him as he rose to his feet, shaking off the sand.

“Chanyeol-”

“I know what I saw. There’s no body. He’s not dead.”

He could still hear the rushing water. It was driving him mad. Slowly, he climbed onto the rock, picking his way across.

“Where are you going?” Jongdae scrambled up to him, reaching out to grab the hem of his sweater but Chanyeol shushed him.

“Be quiet.”

The sound grew louder and louder as he made his way across the rocks. The very rocks that he had stood on, looking out over the water at where Junmyeon had disappeared.

The sun shone down, its rays piercing through the surface. The sea was calm, its waves gentle as it lapped against the base of the rocks. So where was the sound of water coming from?

“Chanyeol, be careful!”

Chanyeol froze for a moment, looking down to see that he had made his way to the edge of the rocks without even noticing. The sound of water falling was at its loudest now, practically roaring in his ears.

“There’s something down there.”

Bending, Chanyeol slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out his keys. Cringing at the horrible sound, he scratched an X mark into the rock beneath him.

“Chanyeol, please. Step back away from there.” Jongdae’s voice filtered into his ears, fearful as Chanyeol tucked his keys back into his pocket.

“He’s coming home,” Chanyeol said firmly, backing away. A warm body wrapped itself around his back and he stilled.

He tasted salt on his tongue. Tears ran down his face, carving little tracks that he wiped away harshly.

“He’s coming home.”

-

Junmyeon stepped away from the wall, taking a shaky breath.

Demons. He had to fight his own demons.

It started becoming clear to him after Chanyeol stopped walking away from him. After he had cried out for him to stop, to wait for him.

For so much of his life, he had tried to keep up. To be good, to be better for everyone around him. He had never once stopped to think, to ask for help.

Perhaps it was pride, or perhaps he was just afraid it would make him weak.

The thought jolted through him, the room beginning to spin, blurring around him. The floor was yanked out from underneath him and he screamed his throat raw as he fell, plunging straight into a tank full of water.

Junmyeon gasped, fully expecting to choke but to his amazement, he could breathe.

There was still the small matter of him being completely encased in glass. He pressed his hands to the walls of the tank, staring around him. Little flowers floated at the surface of the water, dots of colour speckling and casting funny shadows onto him.

Junmyeon cringed when the world started to spin once more, the smell of salt filling his nostrils.

When it settled, Junmyeon found himself standing on the pier. The boardwalk bustled with people and for a moment, he was lost.

He was beginning to realise that he was seeing memories. But he could not pinpoint which one this was until he saw Chanyeol emerge from the crowds holding an ice cream cone in his hand. His smile was blinding and it made Junmyeon smile back.

“Here.” The ice cream was cold and sweet against his tongue, refreshing against the hot summer sun. Junmyeon bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning when Chanyeol bumped his shoulder.

“You’re like a child,” Chanyeol said, shaking his head at him. But he was still smiling, his wrist brushing against Junmyeon’s briefly.

Junmyeon tugged his hand away. He gave him a reproachful look to which Chanyeol returned with a puppy dog pout that made him laugh. There were so many people on the boardwalk that Junmyeon had to grip onto the hem of Chanyeol’s shirt to keep from getting left behind.

His boyfriend waded through the crowd like it was nothing. But he kept glancing back as if to make sure that Junmyeon was still with him.

“You’re so small I’m afraid I’d lose you in the crowd,” he teased as they walked past a stall selling bright pink and blue cotton candy.

Junmyeon nudged him hard, squinting at him with a mock glare.

“I am not small,” he glowered, licking at his ice cream. “You’re just a giant.”

Chanyeol threw back his head and laughed, sliding an arm around his waist.

Junmyeon froze. His skin prickled as if everyone on the boardwalk had stopped to stare. The irrational thought clung to him, making him shake Chanyeol off.

“Not here,” he muttered under his breath, goosebumps rising on his skin.

“Oh-, sorry,” Chanyeol replied easily, brows creasing.

A little lump rose in Junmyeon’s throat but he swallowed it down. Gently, he bumped Chanyeol’s elbow.

“It’s okay. Just-” Junmyeon stopped. There was nothing he could say to explain away his fear. They were far away from the city, where his parents had controlled every aspect of his life. He had his glass house and his brother and his boyfriend.

But still, his parents’ iron grip clenched around his chest, their judging gaze looming over his shoulder.

“It’s fine. Let’s go get a drink and maybe some salt water taffy,” Chanyeol said, but his smile has dimmed somewhat. Junmyeon winced.

His reluctance to be touched in public bothered him and he knew it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, to which Chanyeol merely shook his head. A large hand grasped his shoulder squeezing lightly once before he was being guided through the crowd.

No one even gave them a second glance, too preoccupied with their own agenda. Still, Junmyeon kept a little ways away from Chanyeol, watching him talk to the taffy seller.

He was so absorbed in Chanyeol-watching that he did not notice the woman watching him until he bumped into her.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Junmyeon gasped, catching her before she could fall.

“It’s alright. Do you want your fortune read, my darling? You look as if you need it,” the woman said kindly, grey eyes grave. Her gaze was piercing. Junmyeon shuddered involuntarily when she looked him up and down as if appraising him.

“No, thank you,” he started to say.

“Oh, could you do us both? It’d be fun!” Chanyeol reappeared at Junmyeon’s side, clutching a seafoam blue bag in his hands. He tossed a pastel pink wrapped candy in Junmyeon’s direction and beamed.

“Yeol-”

“Certainly. Come this way.”

Junmyeon popped the taffy in his mouth, having no choice but to follow. Chanyeol’s hand snuck onto his waist in the darkness of the tent but the lady seemed to not have noticed, more preoccupied with her fiddling.

Still, Junmyeon nudged him in warning. Chanyeol gave him a very wounded look but dropped his hand, sticking it into his pocket.

“You, come closer.”

The woman did not point or even gesture but her piercing gaze was enough for Junmyeon to step forward. Goosebumps rose on his flesh when she beckoned him closer.

“You must be careful, Kim Junmyeon. Being someone you are not, never brings good things.”

Junmyeon blinked.

The woman yanked off a swathe of fabric, the material swishing like water to the floor. He stared at the person in the mirror, fingers squeezing into his T-shirt.

It was him.

But there was something off about it. Something not quite right.

He heard the sound of rushing water, the back of his neck prickling as if he was being watched.

Something creaked. Junmyeon whirled around to find that Chanyeol had vanished and he was alone in the room. A few dozen pairs of eyes stared back at him from the dark.

“Chanyeol?” Junmyeon cried, cold fear seeping into his bones. “Where’s Chanyeol?”

The eyes blinked all at once and suddenly, he could see a man, a figure as tall as he. Junmyeon baulked, backing away when the man stepped forward into the light.

“What the hell?” he gasped, stumbling and yelping when his back collided with the cool glass of the mirror.

It was himself.

Or at least, he thought it was.

They had the same hair and the same face, but the other Junmyeon was stiff. He was like a doll, black shadows rippling under his skin. His jaw was tight and his smile looked pasted on, a caricature painted on his face.

“Who are you?” Junmyeon demanded.

The other Junmyeon straightened and for a moment, it was like looking at a mirror image of himself, smiling back.

“He is you, Kim Junmyeon. Be careful of the mask you wear. It will crack and when it does, so will you. You are strong but even you cannot carry the weight of the sky. A seagull can only fly further when it no longer orbits the sea.”

It was the woman’s voice, coming out of the darkness.

Junmyeon blinked, stumbling back when he was assaulted by a wave of salty sea air. It stung his nostrils as if the ocean itself was trying to fill him from the inside out. He saw himself, the porcelain doll, standing at the edge of the rocks that he liked to go to in the middle of the night.

They were so convenient, those rocks. They jutted out from the sand, black and stark even under the cover of night. Something about them always made it easier to think, to breathe.

Junmyeon always went out there alone, even when he knew he should not. The tide was high at night and the rocks were slippery. If he fell from them, there would be no one to hear him scream.

He stared. No one knew he went out there. How could they? The world was always asleep when he did. It was easier to breathe when there were not thousands of other minds thinking all at once.

“How- how did you-”

Junmyeon grasped at the wooden frame of the mirror, a tremor shuddering through his body. He was panicking, his breaths coming out in short pants. His vision tunnelled and he could see only the other him, pretty and porcelain perfect.

It was a lie. All a lie.

“Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon blinked and he was back in the tent, staring back at his own reflection in the mirror. The woman was standing beside him, solemn. Her grey eyes bored into him as Junmyeon backed away, clenching his jaw so hard he thought his teeth cracked. He shook his head once at her.

“That was a neat trick,” he managed, cracking a smile. The woman shook her head back, turning to beckon Chanyeol to the mirror. Junmyeon folded his arms over his chest, fighting back an almost hysterical laugh as Chanyeol took his turn before the mirror.

It was a farce. The lady was just trying to make a quick buck. The mirror had a screen and it was staged.

He repeated those sentences in his mind, over and over until his racing heart had settled. There was no way a stranger could have known, could have seen.

“What did you see?” Chanyeol asked when they left the tent, having dropped twenty bucks into the woman’s waiting hands. She did not take her eyes off Junmyeon until he had stepped out of the tent and even now, as they walked down the pier, Junmyeon thought he could still feel her piercing gaze.

“Nothing much. Just some projections. I thought she was going to read tarot cards or something,” he answered, bumping his shoulder against Chanyeol.

“So did I. But the mirror was cool. I saw you. She said I’d have to put in a bit more effort to keep something important. Or something along those lines,” Chanyeol said with a frown. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No? Yeol, we’re fine. It’s probably a script,” Junmyeon said, shaking his head. “She probably tells half her customers something similar.”

He could feel Chanyeol’s gaze on him as he stepped away to buy them some popcorn but he said nothing else.

“I didn’t know you were so cynical of these things,” Chanyeol said when he rejoined him. The popcorn was buttery and soft in his mouth and it distracted him from answering for a moment.

“I’m not cynical. I’m just realistic. The choices we make determine the life we shape. It’s not some pre-determined bullshit that can be predicted.”

He popped another kernel into his mouth, determinedly keeping his gaze on the horizon where the sun was beginning to set. It was like a fiery ball of red, disappearing slowly into the ocean’s maw. The last rays flaring out over the surface of the sea reflected back at him and they looked like too-perfect lines laid out, shivering and turning jagged as the water rippled.

Junmyeon tried hard not to think about the woman’s words. He was not wearing a mask. He was himself. She had no idea what she was talking about.

“You’re right, I suppose. But still, it’s a nice thought. That we’re just living out the stories that someone else wrote,” Chanyeol mused, “that takes the choices right out of our hands.”

“That would suck,” Junmyeon shot back, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to be a pawn in someone else’s game.”

“Of course you don’t, Mr Independent,” Chanyeol teased, elbowing Junmyeon in the ribs. Junmyeon yelped, nearly dropping his popcorn. He glared, frown melting away when Chanyeol raised his hands in surrender.

“I like my independence, thank you very much,” he said, holding out the popcorn bucket. “It helps me breathe easier, being in control.”

“Well, you can’t really control a lot of things in life,” Chanyeol murmured, almost to himself.

“So I control what I can.”

The scene faded from before his eyes and Junmyeon was left staring blankly at the glass walls that surrounded him. He was still holding his gentians, though they had long but wilted.

Flowers floated past him, casting shadows down onto his clothes. Junmyeon blew out a shaky breath, watching the bubbles rise slowly to the surface where they popped. He touched the glass, pressing so hard that his knuckles started to hurt.

The pain brought his mind back, grounding him.

A mask. The woman had said he was wearing a mask. That it would crack. She had seen right through him as if he was a transparent vessel.

Junmyeon felt as if someone had stripped away his skin and looked at the darkest parts that he had tried to hide. The parts that he had hidden, away from Chanyeol, away from the rest of the world.

That woman, a complete stranger, had seen right through him.

He ought to feel ashamed, to feel angry. Instead, Junmyeon felt only relief. He was relieved that someone knew him. Really seen him. There was no hiding, no shadows wriggling under his skin, no niggling feeling that someone would perceive him as weak.

The woman had called him strong. Chanyeol, independent.

Junmyeon was beginning to see what she had been trying to show him. He was both of those things and more.

He was strong and independent but also fragile like glass. The broken shards were tucked away into the shadows so that no one could see more than the mask, the front that he wanted people to see.

Let go.

That was what he had to do. He had to let go of his strong front, crack the glass mask that he put on every morning. When the mask shattered, so would he.

Junmyeon bit down hard on his lower lip. He pressed his hands up against the tank’s walls, peering out at the shaft of bright light shining into the cave. He was almost positive it was a cave. And the light was sunlight.

He was close. So close.

All he had to do was break.

Junmyeon closed his eyes, clenching his fists. The water swirled around him, the flowers sticking to his skin. His gentians were dead, sunk to the bottom of the tank. They were part of the past, the part that he had to let go.

His date nights with Chanyeol, sitting in a fancy restaurant talking about the most superficial things. The smiles he faked for his boyfriend when he was bone tired.

Junmyeon chewed at his lip so hard he tasted blood.

The flowers clung to him, brilliant in colour. Red daffodils, like the ones Junmyeon had bought for his mother when he was fifteen for Mother’s Day.

This time, he saw the memory coming.

The flowers that lined the counter were so vibrant, so brilliant that they were almost blinding. There were red and yellow and pink but Junmyeon could only stare at the red ones.

The way they framed the face of the young boy working the counter so prettily.

He was his age, a schoolmate.

They had probably passed each other in school a thousand times and Junmyeon had never seen him before.

But right then, standing before the counter with a ten-dollar bill clutched in his hand, all Junmyeon could see was him.

The way his brow furrowed, his tongue sticking out of his mouth the tiniest bit as he wrote out an invoice. His fringe flopped into his eyes and he pushed it away absently, not even noticing Junmyeon.

Junmyeon’s heart skipped a beat.

He’s cute.

A wave of confusion came immediately after. He flushed bright red, even though no one could hear his thoughts.

“Hi, did you need something?”

“I- uh. Mother’s Day,” he stammered, caught off guard when the boy looked up finally. A dimple appeared in the side of his cheek when he smiled and Junmyeon’s breath caught for a moment.

No.

“We just got these daffodils in.” A white finger pointed at the rows of flowers in steel buckets. “They’d be great. Which colour?”

“Uh- red?” Junmyeon was sure the boy could see his blush in the terrible white light of the store. His cheeks were hot when their gazes met.

The boy tilted his head, a confused smile playing in his lips.

“Is that a question?”

“No! I- I’ll take red,” Junmyeon stuttered, dropping the money onto the counter.

His heart was pounding so wildly in his ears that he was certain the other could hear it too. He kept his eyes on the counter, trying to ignore the flush staining his cheeks when their fingers brushed.

Junmyeon practically fled the store the moment he received his flowers, burying the horrific memory deep within him.

He started seeing the boy everywhere after.

Somehow, his eyes would be drawn to him at once, whenever he entered a room. They shared two classes together but Junmyeon never got up the courage to talk to him.

How could he, when all he could focus on was how adorable he looked when he smiled, or how his lost sheep expression was so incredibly endearing.

When his friends talked about which girls were cute, all Junmyeon could think of was that flower boy.

“So is there anyone cute in your class, Myeonnie? Prom is coming up next year.”

“I think Yixing is- he’s really nice,” Junmyeon said absently.

“He is?”

“He tutored me in math the other day,” Junmyeon explained hurriedly when he saw the odd looks his friends were shooting him. “He’s a really good teacher.”

“Righttt. And you think he’s cute?”

“Kinda.”

Junmyeon never understood the implications of his careless words until he heard his parents speaking of the local Pride parade with distaste.

“It is unnatural.”

“Well, they do what they want.” His mother sounded uncertain, making Junmyeon’s heart leap with hope. He picked at his rice, completely missing the look on Jongdae’s face.

“They are mistakes. What can we even do about God’s mistakes?” his father said. His tone was mild but Junmyeon could hear the disdain in his tone.

He swallowed, suddenly overcome with fear. His skin prickled and cold sweat beaded at his brow.

What would happen if his parents found out? Would they still love him? Or would they cast him out?

The fear sank its claws into him, like a creature in the night. Junmyeon fought hard against it, pulling at the reins, desperate.

He was fine around friends. They never treated him differently but at home, he closed off.

Especially when his parents had friends over or sent him out to mingle for the company. They were furious when he said he wanted to pursue art, that he wanted to go to art school.

But when Jongdae decided to do a degree in business, they relented. At least they had one not so hopeless child. When he finished with a combined business and art degree, he moved out.

Even then, their reprimands stuck. His world was ruled so much by fear. He was afraid that people would see. That they would know he was not the perfect, strait-laced son his parents put him out as.

That his parents would find out about Chanyeol.

He had never noticed how much fear and anxiety he held inside him. It seeped into him, hooking at the very fabric of his life, threatening to tear him apart.

The mask was his armour. His smile was his war paint. It camouflaged the pain, so well that he had almost believed it had disappeared.

Junmyeon blinked, opening his eyes to stare at the empty walls. He was back in the tank, flowers sticking to his cheeks. He might have been crying but the water made it hard to tell.

Let go. He had to let go of the heavy things. The weight of the sky, the woman had called it. It had been his sky he was holding up because if he let it fall, his world as he knew it would shatter apart.

He could not predict his parents’ reactions or anyone’s. But there had been people, good people who could care less about who he was attracted to.

Let it go, Junmyeon.

Junmyeon exhaled, flexing his hand against the glass. The flowers tickled as he pushed, shuddering.

The water responded to him, churning all around his body. He pushed, tugging on every emotion, every dark thought that he had shoved away into a tiny box.

In that moment, he was in control. The water shifted, agitated. Junmyeon could hear the glass creaking, bowing as the water turned to pressure.

He gritted his teeth, pushing back every instinct that fought against his exposure.

With a roar, the tank shattered around him. Junmyeon tumbled out onto the ground in a rushing wave. He hit the ground hard, blinding pain shooting through both his knees.

A sob spilt from his lips as he picked himself up, wiping the flowers from his face. He was utterly drenched, like a drowned rat.

Something brushed at his bare feet and he looked down to see the dead gentians lying right there.

Junmyeon bent, caressing the sad blooms.

A tear dripped onto the flowers and he sniffed hard, forcing himself to pull his hand away.

The room was silent as he padded across it, leaving the gentians and the glass on the floor behind him. He followed the light, with only the sound of his footsteps echoing around him.

The sight of the dark floor shimmering made something snap inside him and Junmyeon crumpled. He collapsed onto the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, sobbing like his heart would break. Perhaps that was the point. His heart was already broken.

He had been broken and bent and twisted in so many ways that he felt like a tired, shattered shell of himself. His past clung to him like vestiges of shadow, always whispering, waiting for him to fall.

But there was light.

In the midst of the darkness, there was the smallest sliver of light shining through. It rippled like sunlight through water. Junmyeon could get out.

When he finally managed to uncurl himself, he could see the blue of the sky. It was the smallest dot of colour in the distance but it was enough.

He could get out, but he would have to walk across broken glass to get there.

Junmyeon almost wanted to give up. He had been put through the wringer, cried out and dry. He could just stay and never have to know the pain of putting his feet on those broken shards, see the blood bleeding out on the floor.

But his life was waiting for him. His brother and Chanyeol were both waiting for him.

Wiping his tears, Junmyeon crawled forward, dragging himself to his feet. Slowly, hesitantly, he lowered his bare foot onto the glass.

The pain sliced through him, a scream tearing from his throat. He hugged himself, tears streaming down his cheeks as he took another step and another.

His feet crunched on broken glass, crimson blood dripping all over the shattered pieces of his reflection. Junmyeon felt as if he had been run over by a truck then shoved into a washing machine full of metal nails.

His hair was soaked, sticking to his scalp as he limped along, gasping every time his feet made contact with a sharp edge. The mirrors’ edge sliced into his skin but he was so close.

The light shone in, only the tiniest sliver, but after days, perhaps weeks, spent in darkness with only his thoughts for company, Junmyeon was ready to take just about anything.

He staggered when he took another trembling step, a sob catching in his throat when he tripped. Pain seared through his nerves when he fell onto his knees, broken mirror shards cutting into his palms.

Almost there, he whispered to himself, as he dragged his tired body back up. He was dripping blood onto his reflection as he staggered towards the light. You’re almost there, Junmyeon.

His foot found solid ground, little bits of sand sticking to his cuts. But he could hear water, smell the salt in the air. Junmyeon stumbled, catching himself on the nearest wall. He yelped, swearing when his bloodied palms made contact with a rough surface.

Junmyeon left streaks of blood in his path as he limped on, following the sound of waves and the calling of the gulls. He was in pain, so exhausted that he could fall asleep on his feet but the sunlight kept him going.

Saltwater stung his wounds but his footsteps quickened until he was running, the weight lifting from his shoulders. He felt as free as the gulls he heard outside, his feet leaving grooves that the waves washed away as he ran.

His ankle turned suddenly and he fell, sand flying up into the air when he landed hard on his knees. The blood leaving trails on the ground looked absolutely horrific but the waves rushed in, white foam licking at his bare feet.

Red washed out, mingling with the water. The metallic smell lingered in Junmyeon’s nostrils as he crouched there, his chest heaving. Sweat dripped down his brow, stinging his eyes.

With a grunt of pain, he rose again. Every step felt as if he walking on knives but each step brought him closer and closer to the mouth of the cave. He could not stop now.

The sunlight blinded him with its brilliance when he emerged. The sky was blue and Junmyeon could see white specks swooping around. He inhaled, tears streaking down his cheeks.

He had done it. He was home and it was beautiful.

-

Chanyeol returned to the rocks despite Jongdae’s pleas. He could not stay away. Not when his dreams were plagued with Junmyeon.

He went back to the X he had marked into the rocks and stood there for hours at a time, holding on to his pendant. His behavior was frightening Jongdae, he knew. But he could not bring himself to keep away.

Somehow, deep inside him, Chanyeol knew that Junmyeon was alive. That all those dreams were not hallucinations. Somehow, in his in-between state, Junmyeon had managed to communicate with him more than they ever had in the years of their relationship.

Perhaps in a sick, twisted way, the universe had pulled them apart as a sign.

Chanyeol had taken Junmyeon for granted. He had blocked out all his pain, his fear and taken only the good and never saw the bad. Whether that was true, he could not say. Not until Junmyeon came back.

He had to come back.

It would be cruel to torment him with the idea that this might have all just been in his head. That he had missed him, loved him so much that he constructed the entire conversation they had.

Chanyeol sniffed angrily, wiping at his face. He glanced at the bouquet of gentians he had bought on impulse, the flowers already beginning to droop in the heat. He would be sunburnt later, having forgotten his sunblock entirely.

Junmyeon would chastise him. If he was there.

The waves came in and out, the sound of them almost hypnotic. Chanyeol lay down on the rocks, ignoring the little uneven bits digging into his back and arms. The gulls cawed loudly above him, swooping and turning circles in the sky.

It was such a beautiful day.

Time seemed to stand still as he lay there, face turned towards the sky. The waves crashed, almost rhythmic against the rocks, occasionally striking hard enough to send water spraying onto Chanyeol’s face.

He could taste the salt on his lips, like tears.

The gulls cawed again, loud enough for Chanyeol to open his eyes. They were flying away, leaving the sea behind.

Footsteps shuffled on the rocks, shifting sand but Chanyeol paid no mind to them. It was probably Jongdae, trying to convince him to go back home and maybe see someone. Or Baekhyun, sent to soften the blow.

He heard the whispered conversations, the phone calls in the dark. Just the memory of hearing Jongdae cry into Baekhyun’s arms was enough to make shivers run down Chanyeol’s spine.

Chanyeol squeezed his eyes shut again, listening as the footsteps came closer. They were uneven as if the person was limping.

“Chanyeol?” Water dripped onto Chanyeol’s face and his eyes flew open.

He knew that voice.

With a sound that he would deny making later, he sat bolt upright.

Junmyeon stood before him, his white shirt stained red from blood. His feet were covered in sand and crimson, his hair damp and drooping in his eyes. He looked tired as if he had been put through the meat grinder and come out the other side. Yet he had never looked more beautiful.

Chanyeol choked, taking a step back.

His heart thudded in his chest as time stood still. The waves roared around him, slamming into the rocks with a ferocity that matched his mood.

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, afraid that he was dreaming. Junmyeon mirrored him, extending a pale hand covered in streaks of rust.

Chanyeol’s eyes brimmed with tears, spilling over when his fingers brushed against skin. He trembled all over, clasping Junmyeon’s hand in his. A half sob bubbled out of his mouth and he yanked, crushing Junmyeon into a hug.

Junmyeon’s arms wound around his waist and squeezed tight, wetness soaking into Chanyeol’s shirt. The warmth against his body made Chanyeol cry harder, burying his face into the crook of Junmyeon’s shoulder.

He smelled like seawater and oddly enough, faintly of gentians.

Chanyeol had no idea how long they stayed like that, crying and shaking and hugging. When he was all cried out, his tear tracks dried on his cheeks, Chanyeol pulled away, just for the briefest moment.

Junmyeon’s eyes were shiny when he cupped his cheek, thumbing over his cheekbone. Chanyeol was afraid to be too rough, afraid that he would break at any moment like a porcelain doll.

“Y- your hands,” he said, at last, his voice rough from crying. “What happened?”

Junmyeon cracked a smile, thin and wan and Chanyeol could not help the tremor that swept through him. He looked changed. Like a different person.

“It’s a long story,” he said wearily. He reached up, cupping Chanyeol’s cheek. Chanyeol kissed him, feeling his body tremble against him.

“We have a lifetime,” he murmured. “Tell me.”