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Hyunjin always thought it would be more meaningful than this.
He gazes at himself in the bathroom mirror, caught by the sad glint of his own eyes. A smiling glittery face looks back at him. Cheeks sparkling, eyelashes glittering, lips shining under the dim bathroom lights. The music pounds and he can feel it through the floorboards as it displaces the weak smile on his face.
The night had come quickly. Hyunjin had been counting the days until they graduated for months. There were small, cute stickers over the numbers on his calendar, and then one day he’d ran out of stickers and there had been no days left to count. Hyunjin leans over the sink, staring at himself as the world falls apart behind him.
Through the wall, Chan is laughing. Hyunjin hears it, that high, joyful sound he knows by heart, and the smile finally crumbles.
I don’t want to go.
He still remembers how the graduation gown had felt. It was heavy on his shoulders, as if promise and future were pushing down on him. His hoodie now is loose, soft against his skin, but it feels just as heavy. Hyunjin sighs.
They’d cheered for him, that day. He’d stepped out in front of the crowd when his name was called and it was his friends - his messy, small, sweet friends - had cheered the loudest. Through years of high school he’d been loved by his classmates, the golden boy, the trainee, the popular one who’s eyes sparkled when he smiled. But it was only ever the love of his best friends that he wanted.
Hyunjin runs a hand over his face, and his fingers come away sparkling.
They’re waiting for him, he knows. He has to get back to the party.
He blinks away the tears stinging behind his eyes. He’s their light, their golden boy. He’ll swallow the pain for tonight.
I don’t want to go.
Chan’s laugh grows louder. Hyunjin realises too late that he’s heading towards the bathroom door, and he quickly reconstructs his mask, knowing all too well that his sadness will be shining through the cracks.
Chan bursts inside of the room. With his eyes crinkled and his cheeks pink, he’s achingly familiar. His blazer sleeves hide his hands and Hyunjin, as he is so often reminded, loves him.
Hyunjin wonders if his mirror image is crying, even if he himself isn’t.
“Hyunjinnie.” Chan giggles. He’s all dark eyes and joy as he pulls at Hyunjin’s arms. “Come back to the party. What’s taking you so long?”
“Sorry,” Hyunjin grins at his best friend, fighting the urge to push him away and crawl under the sink, “Did you miss me?”
“Always.” It’s a weak word, Hyunjin thinks. Forever. Always. They aren’t possible, just promises made to make leaving hurt less. “Jisung has eaten most of the cake, so hurry your ass up if you want any.”
“Yes, captain.”
There’s a moment, in the dimly lit bathroom, when Hyunjin hopes Chan will see through his smile. There’s always been a perceptive edge to Chan. He always knows, somehow, when something is wrong. Hyunjin waits for his gaze to change.
Maybe it’s the drinks, or the atmosphere, or the heavy music, but Chan’s eyes stay bright. He doesn’t know that Hyunjin is breaking.
Chan reaches out to touch Hyunjin’s sparkling cheek with the tips of his fingers, not knowing that it’s the worst thing he could’ve done.
“Our pretty Hyunjinnie,” Chan says, smiling shyly, and Hyunjin swallows all of it. “Come on.”
Hyunjin wants to shout no because leaving the bathroom is a goodbye and the party is a goodbye and Chan’s smile is a goodbye but he pushes open the door anyway.
The floor rumbles with music, as if it’s about to fall through.
*
Hyunjin met them too late.
He was an ex trainee idol who’d been on the edge of fame until he injured his leg beyond repair. His failure didn’t mean much to his classmates, though, who saw him as the golden boy, the tragic hero, the dancer they wanted to know. Perhaps they thought that if they were friends with him they’d catch a little of his light.
His first day of high school had been hell, until he met them. Hyunjin had walked through those doors, his heart lodged in his throat. His backpack had felt heavy on his shoulders and his expensive clothes were loose, making him feel even more like a fraud.
All eyes had turned to him. Fake smiles had pierced him, immediately, and made him feel small and wrong. He’s so pretty, someone said. Did you hear he was an idol, another said. Whispers followed him through the school.
Until the class President had thrown an arm around his shoulder, Hyunjin was ready to give up.
“Hey!” The warm voice had said in the classroom, sunny smiles and knowing eyes. His blonde hair fell over his face and his hoodie was oversized, but he still had an air of a leader. He was someone to rely on. “I’m Bang Chan. You’re new here, right?”
So Hyunjin had leaned on him.
He’d met the others later. With tentative footsteps he’d found the music room, and with joy had joined the club of seven other boys that seemed to be bursting with happiness and noise.
And they saw him.
Chan most of all.
Over those few years the eight of them had shared everything. Secrets, pain, laughter. And most of all, music. Hyunjin loved music with his entire self, and so did all of the others. They sang together, danced together, wrote together. It was heaven in that tiny music room every day after school
Hyunjin had never had close friends like this before. His trainee friends had also been his competitors. His classmates wanted to know him for their own benefit. Everyone he ever met wanted him for themselves. But not these seven boys. Never them.
Over time Hyunjin had begun to wish that he’d met them earlier.
And that he didn’t have to say goodbye.
*
“There you are!” Jeongin’s sweet voice calls.
They’d booked a room in town for their last party. As students they hardly have any money, so the room is old and lit badly, but it’s theirs. There’s a long table, filled with their favourite party foods. There’s streamers and glitter, party hats and fake moustaches and balloons, and the giddy smiles of teenagers in love with the night.
Minho is bobbing his head to the beat as he eats. Jisung smiles through cake crumbs, leaning on Felix’s shoulder. There’s a loud peace to the moment that makes Hyunjin want to cry.
“I didn’t eat the cake.” Jisung says, through a mouthful of cake.
“He didn’t eat the cake.” Minho mimics, and reaches across the table to poke Jisung’s cheek.
Hyunjin giggles and let’s himself be pulled back into his seat by Felix. They sit at the long table as the music pounds and the food is tasteless in Hyunjin’s mouth. Rough on his tongue like sandpaper.
“When are we starting karaoke?” Changbin asks, a moustache held over his mouth.
“Hopefully never.” Chan murmurs to Hyunjin, his eyes taking on that teasing glint that Hyunjin had fallen in love with. His heart pounds painfully.
I don’t want to go.
“Karaoke.” Jeongin claps. Repeats it again. He’s the youngest, all innocence and happiness and excitement at the idea that they’ll soon be free from high school. Hyunjin wants to keep him in his pocket and never let him go.
“You heard the man.” Seungmin says, winking at Hyunjin as if to say let them have their fun. It’s a rare moment of solidarity between two different people who sometimes clash. Hyunjin loves him for his clear eyes, and his soft voice. He thinks that there’ll always be a piece of himself in Seungmin.
So the eight of them stand and wrap their arm around each other’s shoulders and sing loudly. In the back of Hyunjin’s mind is the thought that this will soon end, even as he makes his throat sore with singing old Korean songs.
“You’re good.” Chan laughs, and shoves his shoulder, and Hyunjin wants to kiss him. He wants to crawl inside of him. He doesn’t want any of this to end.
“You’re better.” Hyunjin says easily, watching as Chan’s mouth touches the microphone when he sings.
They had nights like this in music club, too. Singing so loudly that janitor yelled at them. Tearing all of their responsibilities apart.
I love you, Hyunjin thinks, I love all of you.
“Life is good.” Changbin croons. But their lives are ending, Hyunjin thinks desperately.
Felix hangs on Changbin’s shoulder, giggles and sings out of time with him. They look like sunshine.
Karaoke inevatibly turns into an impromptu rap battle. Hyunjin’s mouth stretches with his smile as Jeongin improvises and Felix raps lowly and the world is just the eight of them.
“Awesome!” Hyunjin says to Minho happily, ruffling his hair and pretending his heart isn’t splintering more and more as the music continues.
When will it end?
It hurts enough that Hyunjin keeps blinking away tears. He can’t match their happiness. How are they so joyful to leave him? How could they not feel as if their worlds were turning inside out? He thinks they must see the end of high school as the next step towards something greater. But Hyunjin doesn’t think there’s any road left for him.
When they leave him behind there’ll be nothing but silence and emptiness.
“Hey, love,” Chan murmurs, close to Hyunjin’s ear, and his breath smells like candy. They’ve all collapsed back into their chairs, laughing breathlessly after Seungmin’s attempted rap. “The future is exciting, right?”
Hyunjin swallows.
“Sure.” Hyunjin lies, his hands tightening into fists on his lap, “I can’t wait.”
Tomorrow he has to start packing. His college is a few cities away. It isn’t that far from home, but far enough that he’ll miss his family and his friends often.
It’s not as far as the U.S, anyway. Hyunjin’s heart always sinks when he realises how far Chan is going to be from him.
*
“You’ll be okay, right?” Chan had asked him, that night in Hyunjin’s car, when he’d thought Chan was going to confess but had actually said I’m going to study in America and his whole world had crumbled.
“Of course.” Hyunjin had laughed easily, his hands trembling, and Chan had never asked again.
Hyunjin has been having this dream every night for weeks. In his dream everyone stays and the world doesn’t change. In his dream Chan had turned to him in the car and had said I’m in love with you, I’ll never leave you.
*
Minho is dancing on the table.
Jeongin is giggling and throwing seaweed at him. Felix is trying to climb up and join him. Chan is giggling beside him. They’ve never had a party as fun and loud as this one.
“I have an idea.” Jisung announces, raising his hand dramatically as if he’s in class, and Hyunjin loves him painfully.
“Oh, God.” Seungmin laughs. “I hate when you say that.”
Jisung ignores him.
“Party games.” He says, “We never play party games.”
Between studying and making music and learning each other, Hyunjin is hardly surprised that they’ve had no time for party games.
“What are you thinking?” Felix asks, eyes warm with fondness. Hyunjin has always wanted a heart like his.
“There’s a bunch of stuff we could play.” Jisung bubbles with excitement.
So they play card games and tell when they lose. They play charades and fall over each other laughing. They turn the party into a game, a fun, neverending game, that Hyunjin doesn’t want to play.
It’s all fine - or at least, as fine as it can be - until Jeongin’s eyes take on a mischevious glint.
“Have you heard of 7 minutes in heaven?” He asks.
He’s sitting on Seungmin’s lap, leaning against his chest. Minho rolls his eyes, but the smile tugging at his mouth suggests he’ll play anyway. They’re all soft, melting under each other's smiles.
Not soft enough to stay, though, Hyunjin thinks.
He hasn’t drank a lot, knowing it would be a bad idea when he’s in such a sentimental mood, but he feels hazy and unsteady anyway. He’s leaning his cheek on the cold table, and he mostly just watches Chan shuffle the playing cards as he chats to Changbin.
“Just admit you want to kiss me.” Hyunjin teases, and Jeongin squeaks and almost falls from Seungmin’s lap.
“Well, haven't you ever been curious?" Jeongin asks, "I know I am."
They all must've been, at some point. Hyunjin has kissed Changbin a few times, on the school roof when they both needed someone to lean on but couldn't say it out loud. Hyunjin remembers the few weeks that Minho and Jisung dated - remembers, too, the awkward aftermath, the pained glances across the classroom and their stilted silence in the music room. It's all part of growing up, that longing to be close enough to someone that your touches become more than friendly.
He's never kissed Chan, though. Hyunjin knows that's a line he can't cross. He isn't willing to risk his heart like that, not since he's already overwhelmed by his unrequited love for his best friend. Enough so that even hugging him is dangerous. Almost criminal.
So when Jeongin winks at him, Hyunjin feels dread crawl up his neck.
Anyone but him, he thinks desperately. This night is already painful enough.
"Is that the game where you're locked in a cupboard?" Felix asks, freckles hardly visible in the low light.
"Something like that." Chan laughs.
He's happy, careless. It doesn't bother Chan, Hyunjin thinks, the prospect of being alone with any of them in the dark. Kissing them. Kissing him. Hyunjin's shoulders tense. His friends don't see the hard lines of his face in the dark, tightening when Jeongin's smile widens.
Hyunjin has never been the type of keep his feelings hidden. He's always found it hard to suppress love. He'd told Jeongin his feelings for Chan, one night under the stars, had spilled all of the love and worry inside of him. I think I'm falling for him, he'd murmured quietly, and Jeongin's hands had curled around his own. It's okay, Jeongin had said sweetly.
Hyunjin thought Jeongin had understood, back then. But Jeongin is high on the atmosphere, on excitement for the future. He's heading to college next week, and he won't stop talking about growing up. Soon he'll be a sports student several hundred mils away. He doesn't see Hyunjin's pained eyes, as they try to warn Jeongin. Please, he asks quietly, without words, but Jeongin doesn't hear him.
"Who's first?" Jeongin giggles.
"I don't understand what's happening." Changbin pipes up, but no one hears him. No one except Felix, who whispers a confused me too. They're so endearing, Hyunjin thinks, smiling fondly despite his heartache.
"I'll go first." Minho pipes up, brave and bold as he is. Hyunjin is torn between despair and hope when Jisung's eyes light up. They'd never really gotten over each other, despite the messy ending. The too-close friendship that followed their breakup said everything. "How are we choosing then?"
"The bottle is a classic." Chan laughs, picking up his empty bottle from the table.
So they lean over the table, watching in anticipation as Chan holds the glass. His nails are painted black, and his hands are piano players hands, slender fingers and gentle touches. Hyunjin will never forget the first time he saw Chaj play the piano. It would always be like a dream.
The bottle is spun. And, because the universe is cruel, because fate likes to mess with them, it lands on Jisung. Of course it does. They blink at each other. Jisung's rising hope matches Minho's tentative delight, and Hyunjin swallows when he takes Jisung's hand and rises to his feet.
"You've got to stay in there for 7 minutes exactly." Seungmin calls, having already warmed up to the game. They step into the tall cupboard in the corner of the party room. "Remember, anything's allowed."
Minho winks, causing Jeongin to burst into another fit of giggles.
"Oh, now, I get it." Changbin grumbles, and Felix falls on his shoulder with a laugh.
Hyunjin doesn't look at Chan as the door shuts quietly behind Minho and Jisung. His heart aches when he hears their breathless giggling and soft murmurs through the door. He wonders if it's easier to share, in there, in that small, black space with nothing to feel but each other. When the two fall silent after 3 minutes, Hyunjin isn't surprised.
They all look at each other.
"Is this really a good idea?" Chan asks quietly. His eyebrows are furrowed. They know all too well that Minho is staying home for college, while Jisung is moving away. They don't fit together, Hyunjin thinks, and sees himself in them.
"It'll be fine." Jeongin says sweetly. "Don't you think love can defeat anything?"
Seungmin shakes his head and ruffles Jeongin's hair, and Hyunjin knows he doesn't think so. Neither does Hyunjin. After all, if it could, they wouldn't be leaving him. He wouldn't be alone.
After another 4 minutes of silence, Jeongin knocks happily on the cupboard door. Minho and Jisung step out silently, Jisung's cheeks pink and Minho's hands shoved into his pockets. They don't say anything as they sit at the table. Minho bites into a slice of pizza, and Jisung picks up a black balloon and throws it into the air, and they don't speak.
"Well." Jeongin says, clapping his hands, "Who's next?"
Can't you see, Hyunjin thinks desperately, and the balloon in Jisung's hands pops, can't you see this is hurting us more?
Love is little good if it's too late.
He's disappointed when it's Chan who speaks up.
"I'll do it." Chan says easily. Toothy and bright. His eyes are dark with promise and eyeliner, and his blonde hair falls softly over his eyes. Hyunjin hates him, for just a second. "I'll take mercy on you guys, don't worry."
"Sure you will." Seungmin cackles.
"Who are you hoping it is?" Jeongin asks.
Don't say me, Hyunjin thinks, and then a quieter voice in his head pipes up,
Please say me.
"Felix, of course." He laughs, reaching over Hyunjin to grab Felix's hand, and the rejection stings. He's never been stabbed but he knows how the nick of a knife feels, sharp against his skin, and it feels like that.
It feels painful.
"Favouritism." Changbin pouts.
It's in good fun, Hyunjin thinks. It's always a joke. Nevermind that Hyunjin is splitting in two over the party table. Nevermind that he'll never get these moments back again. Every moment between them should be light and good. That's what friendship is.
Jeongin reaches for the bottle and winks at Hyunjin.
Don't land on me.
Please land on me.
Hyunjin knows the universe is cruel. Especially to him. Of course the bottle cap is facing him when it stops spinning on the tabe.
"Hyunjinnie!" Chan laughs, pulls him to his feet, wraps an arm around his shoulder. Don't, Hyunjin thinks, as he laughs good naturedly. I want to go home.
*
It started to sink in last month that this was permanent.
Felix was lying on the carpet in the music room, his phone held over his face. The eight of them were having a rest from studying for exams, and coffee and naps were all they cared about. He'd called Hyunjin over and he'd asked, which photograph?
"What do you mean, Lix?"
"Which photograph?" He blinks at Hyunjin, smiling sweetly, "You know, for my college room? I'm printing photos. Which one of us do you like?"
Hyunjin could imagine it. Could imagine Felix's room, so far from his own, the only trace of Hyunjin left a flimsy photograph that would probably fall off anyway. He gulps and smiles and points at a random photograph and realises it's ending. It'll be over soon enough.
*
The cupboard is even smaller inside. Hyunjin stands with his back against the wall, tense and rigid. He can hear Chan breathing - he smells of a sweet sort of musk that makes Hyunjin's heart flutter. The space is small enough that they keep brushing whenever they move.
"This is kind of spooky." Chan whispers, laughter bubbling in his throat, while Hyunjin struggles to breathe.
It reminds him of that night in the car. Too close to Chan on the passengers seat. Anticipating a confession, a whispered secret, I love you. Only horror had come instead. I'm going to America. He was the first person Chan told that he was leaving.
"Well? Do you want to, uh, do it?"
Hyunjin blinks. The shyness in Chan's voice takes him off guard, and makes him want to laugh. He can almost imagine Chan's embarrassed face in the dark.
"What, kiss?" Hyunjin laughs, easily. "If you want to."
"I mean, I don't... mind. " Chan whispers, "It's all part of the fun, right?"
Hyunjin shouldn't break the rule he'd always kept. Don't kiss him. Don't submit to the feeling inside of him, calling out for him to just give in. He knows Chan doesn't want him like that. So why does he step forward in the tiny cupboard?
"Go easy on me." Chan giggles quietly.
Has he kissed anyone before, Hyunjin thinks, pressing his palm against Chan's chest, has he fallen in love before? His fingers rest on the hemline of Chan's shirt, under his blazer, just brushing the skin of his neck. Chan's breath doesn't catch. Hyunjin's does.
"Isn't this a fun night?" Chan asks.
No, Hyunjin thinks.
He leans forward. He ghosts his lips across Chan's, and feels the ache inside of him grow, and grow. It's almost unbearable when he steps closer and presses their mouths together firmly. His palms are pressed against Chan's chest, and he kisses him deeper. It isn't a game.
Not for Hyunjin, at least.
Chan turns his head away. He's laughing.
"Sorry." He says, reaching out in the dark to ruffle Hyunjin's hair in the dark. "It's just too weird, I can't do it."
Ha.
Hyunjin is bleeding. There's no blood on the wooden floor of the cupboard. But he knows he's wounded, somewhere inside. It's only a matter of time before it starts to drip.
"Hyunjinnie?" Chan giggles, "God, this is stupid. Why did I agree to this?"
Desperate, Hyunjin reaches for him and tries to kiss him again. His hands are rough, but Chan is stronger, and pushes him away by his shoulders firmly.
"Seriously. It's just a game, let's stop." Chan says.
Please. Hyunjin swallows and stumbles backwards, tripping on his own feet
"Why are you leaving me?" He asks desperately.
"What?"
Silence falls, tense and slow. Hyunjin doesn't know what to make of it. He's sore everywhere, bleeding internally.
"Why is everyone leaving me?"
Chan pauses. He reaches for Hyunjin, but Hyunjin flinches away from him.
"That's not-" Chan pauses, looking for the words. "We're just heading in different directions. It's a new beginning, we're not leaving you-"
"That's the same thing."
"Sweetheart, it isn't-"
"It is. " Hyunjin struggles with the words, running a hand through his hair. "It's over. "
I want to go home, he thinks, even though he knows he already is.
"Are you alright?" Chan says, hands trying to find him in the dark, "Hyunjinnie, you know I'm always-"
Hyunjin pushes the cupboard door open, and welcomes the dim party room, the fresh air. He stumbles back to his seat.
"That wasn't 7 minutes." Jeongin pouts.
"Chan's a bad kisser." Hyunjin jokes, and throws a balloon in the air.
*
They understand each other, Hyunjin thinks.
They've always been the closest. Chan would call him late at night when he couldn't sleep, and they'd talk for hours about everything. They listened to music together, shared secrets and promises, learned each other's smiles by heart.
Hyunjin had fallen in love, for the first time. He's a hopeless romantic, he always has been, so it had been wonderful at first. Writing songs for Chan after dark. Glancing at Chan from across the classroom. He'd thought it was a love story.
Chan didn't even know.
He'd once thought Chan could love him back. But like all of his youth, it was a pipedream, a fantasy that could never last. This wasn't a love story. It wasn't even a story.
*
Dismissing it is easy enough.
Chan stays close to his side, and checks on him every so often, but Hyunjin smiles easily. Laughs it off. And by the time an hour has passed the cupboard is a far away moment and the party is back in its swing.
Just for then, he lets himself pretend. He lies on Jisung's shoulder, and tries to forget everything. So what if Chan couldn't love him like that. So what if his friends aren't going to stay. So what?
The low lights and black decorations have made the party room seem like a perpetual night time. He doesn't realise how late it is until Seungmin yawns and stretches.
"Guys, it's almost three." He says. Jeongin blinks sleepily. "And I have a bunch of shit to do tomorrow."
"Same." Felix pouts. "I don't wanna."
Jisung lets out a long sigh. For a moment Hyunjin basks in their reluctance to leave and thinks maybe they'll stay. But then Hyunjin's head shifts from Jisung's shoulder when he stands from his seat. Chan stands too, brushing down his blazer with a sheepish smile. Hyunjin can feel the goodbye starting to form in the air.
I don't want to go.
I thought we'd have more time.
"Just a little longer," Hyunjin laughs easily, tugging at Chan's sleeve.
"Come on, Hyunjinnie." Chan pulls him to his feet and tucks his hands in the pockets of Hyunjin's hoodie. Beams down at him, like they're best friends, like their worlds aren't going to change.
"Let's take a photograph before we go," Jisung says, "That's what the booth is for."
"Not yet." Hyunjin says.
"Don't whine." Minho says softly, taking his hand, "It's not like this is the last time we'll see each other."
They all fall silent, the air growing tense and stilted. Hyunjin winces. Isn't it?
Jeongin opens the door, but it slams shut as soon as he lets go of the handle. He jumps, surprised, as the bang resonates in the rom.
Seungmin opens his mouth to try and speak, but nothing comes out. He clutches his throat.
Chan glances at him, worry and warmth, but when he tries to speak his words are silent too.
Don't leave me, Hyunjin thinks desperately.
Hyunjin remembers a simple afternoon during their school lunch break. They sat outside on the grass under the spring sun, legs overlapping, mouths stained with ice cream. Felix had said quietly, let's stay like this forever.
Hyunjin falls to his knees, in anguish. Chan reaches for him, but his hand passes straight through Hyunjin's shoulder as if he were a ghost.
What, Chan mouths, with no sound.
Hyunjin looks around. They're leaving me, he thinks, as his friends' bodies become transparent. Their forms are flimsy like spirits, like the wind, and he can hardly see them anymore. They fade into the black of the room, and disappear..
"Why are you leaving me?" He asks. Is growing up disappearance?
Will I fade away too?
He sobs, now that the room is empty. No one can see him curl in on himself, knees up to his chest, crying into his hoodie in the cheap party room. Why do things have to end, and how long can he pretend they won't before he's faced with the reality of it?
If he opened his eyes he thinks he would be bleeding. He thinks he would be stained with pain. There's no promise of the future in this.
Then warm arms hold him.
Hyunjin feels him, his best friend, his first love, hold him quietly. In the darkness while he cries there's someone to lean on, even if it's only temporary. Chan strokes his hair, his arms strong and his chest firm, and Hyunjin doesn't try to smile anymore.
He feels the rest of his friends too, piling onto him. He's trapped under one huge hug, all warm and tight, that makes him feel at home.
"Hyunjinnie." Chan's soft voice says. They pull away from the hug and Chan brushes the tears from his face with his fingertips. "We're sorry. We didn't realise you were hurting."
"How could I not?" Hyunjin asks, broken, "Why is this so easy for you guys? Don't leave me."
"We're not leaving you," Jeongin says, and pats his head. "We'll always be friends, okay?"
Hyunjin already knows that isn't true.
"New beginnings aren't as scary as you think." Chan says, in his wise, low voice that Hyunjin wants to listen to. But he can't believe it. "It's going to be okay, I promise. We'll always be beside you."
You've already disappeared, he thinks.
Or maybe it's Hyunjin who's disappearing. Maybe losing his friends, the people who finally made him believe in himself, will make him disappear. Will memories be enough to keep him alive?
They're all heading to the future. Hyunjin wants to step backwards. I don't want to go.
"Come on." Seungmin holds out a hand, and Hyunjin takes it with a distraught smile. "Let's go and take that photograph, okay?"
He's dragged into the photo booth. There's no light in his friends' eyes, even as they pull on party hats and fake moustaches and silly scarfs. Hyunjin swallows bile as Chan places a crown on his head.
He thinks he might be dying when they finally pose for the photograph, in that stuffy old booth. They're all smiling but it feels like murder, like the death of their old selves, and Hyunjin hates them and loves them more than anything in the world.
Friendship. Pain. He's only 19. Where does it all go ?
"3, 2," Chan murmurs in his ear. Countdown. It's almost time. "1."
The room flashes when the camera does. Hyunjin stands with his old friends, pulling a silly face, and wishes he could disappear.
*
Later, after watery goodbyes and long hugs and a plane ride that went on for hours, Chan is unpacking.
His college room in the US is small and sort of cozy. He doesn't get a lot of light, but his desk faces the window and he hears the birds in the afternoon, so he couldn't ask for a better place to live in. He's only been there for a few days, but he's excited. Buzzing with potential.
What's going to happen next. His pain at leaving the friends he'd always took care of is overshadowed by his joy at a new future.
Life had been hard for all of them, after all. They'd been each others light through dark high school days, but now they're free. Chan is free. He loves the sky here. He loves the air, the food, the people. The busy New York streets welcome him.
He's unpacking another box when a slip of paper falls onto the carpet.
He picks it up, and when he realises what it is a small, fond smile blooms on his face. The photo strip is ripped, and it wasn't packed neatly like everything else. He runs his finger over the picture and remembers the photo booth. His old friends. He hopes they can meet again in the future.
Chan's brow furrows suddenly. He looks down at the strip of photos and feels like something is missing.
Uneasy, he places it on the desk.
"Are you ready?" A stranger asks from the doorway. Chan grins.
"Always." He says, and leaves the room. Heading towards something new.
On the desk, the photograph is left behind.
If Chan had looked closer, he would've noticed it.
7 smiles. 7 best friends.
There was someone missing.
The space beside Chan, where Hyunjin had pretended to smile, is empty.
