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“Shh, he’s here.”
A harrowing creak of the door signified his presence, and the petite crowd went from excited chatters into a frenzied hush. Soobin, delighted by the reaction, bit back a timid smile, adjusted the cozy front of his turtleneck, and pushed himself in.
“Surprise!”
He was met with four pairs of familiar, equally wide eyes, glinting with enthusiasm as they all stood up in synchrony. The clasps of their hands that followed were almost rehearsed to excellency as they immediately broke out into a rather disordered version of ‘Happy Birthday’.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!” Soobin found himself shaking his head in amusement, laughing underneath his breath as he approached the table they were all standing around. Not the most amazing rendition in the world—nor that he’s heard of; but their voices were full of bliss, and Soobin would rather take that over any other. His eyes immediately crinked into perfect crescents, multiple sets of dimples adoring his face as he smiled; at the ends of his eyeline, on the apple of his cheeks, by the corner of his lips.
“Happy birthday, dear Soobin. Happy birthday to you!” They hollered more than they sang, voices in diversifying volumes of hazardous, claps uneven and smiles as warm as Soobin felt.
Surprised he was not, but joyful he was. His friends have always been terrible at planning surprise parties—like Soobin wouldn’t remember what day his birthday was, or that he wouldn’t be able to see through their sneaky smiles the night before. However, he was still elated all the same—them and their silly little arrangements, their cheeky yet affectionate endeavours and most especially their small yet heartfelt gestures. Every year, for the past twenty. It never gets old.
It didn’t go unnoticed by Soobin that the other four were effortlessly matching outfits, bedecked in varying adornments of blue plaids from head to toe. He, who was unaware, showed up in anticlimactic faded jeans and an even more anticlimactic yellow plaid sweater.
It was like this wasn’t even meant for me, they just wanted his birthday as an excuse to excessively dress up. He snickered at the thought, head hung low in embarrassment at the shower of attention still on him as they finished their sad excuse of a song.
Their oldest sauntered onto him, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him to the only unoccupied seat at the table. “Stop being slow, birthday boy. Make a wish and blow the candles!” Yeonjun chirped, sitting down beside him in a hurry that wasn’t in any way necessary. The tall, dark-haired male to his left put a birthday hat on him just when he wasn’t paying attention, tucking the elastic band underneath his chin with ease. When turned to, he just flashed Soobin a mischievous smile.
What was once the guest living room of his house was jazzed up beyond recognition. His window was covered with a gigantic lavender cloth, lavished with bright sequin stripes and pastel coloured balloons lousily taped. They said ‘Happy Birthday’, like it would on any other average birthday party—but the little hearts scattered around the text led Soobin to believe that this was Hueningkai’s doing. Even on his TV table there were clumps and clumps of balloons tied everywhere, some coming in white and blue polka dots. He glanced and noticed his little succulent pot by the TV having a smile painted on its surface, topped with a birthday hat of corresponding colours. Who even uses polka dotted balloons anymore? He mused, entertained by the youngest’s spirit manifesting even through the most minor of touches.
In front of him was a tastefully decorated cake, a vivid purple framed with hues of bright blue and pink frosting. Blue like my hair, and pink like Yeonjun’s . Perhaps the older picked out the colour story with that intention in mind, or so he would have hoped. What fun little details.
The candles atop the cake looked like they were carefully planted, the letters spelling a yet slightly askewed version of ‘HAPPY BDAY’—Soobin can imagine a concentrated Taehyun trying to perfect their positions and a nagging Beomgyu stressing over the unimportance of that arduous immaculacy in the background. His smile only grew with the visual image he was given.
Thus, the birthday boy put his hands together in a prayer, closed his eyes, and made his wish. With the way his smile never ceased the entire time made it easily predictable just what he was wishing for. In the back of his mind, a familiar melody began to play in a feminine voice he recognised as his mother’s.
Hold onto the memories, they will hold onto you.
He told himself not to open his eyes until after he was done; because what he’d see next, he dreaded. This was always where it ended, not a second further. Slowly, as if to mock him, the voice inside his head continued.
And I will hold onto you.
Soobin had been here many times.
“Where’s the rabbit?”
“Here’s the rabbit,” chimed Soobin, giggling softly as he picked up the shadow puppet and held it up against the wall. The stick inside his grip waddled under his manoeuvre, mimicking the action of said animal hopping. The boy next to him laughed, putting his bear puppet on top of his—at least that appeared to be the case, according to the puppets’ silhouettes. They fake wrestled with the aid of Beomgyu’s pompous sound effects, a rabbit and a grizzly bear brawling in contrast to the bright light against the wall in front of them.
“Here, take that, measly rabbit! How dare you try and fight the almighty bear! I’ll have you know I rule the forest!” Grumbled Beomgyu in an exaggeratedly gruffy voice, it being already deep making it octaves deeper. Soobin faked a shudder, the smile still apparent on his face not making it the slightest bit convincing. “Even still, I won’t let you kill me easily! I’m a smart and quick rabbit!”
After a good minute of endless ambushes from the younger, Soobin finally conceded defeat; his shadow puppet flopping lifelessly to the ground with a defeated cry. That, too, he also faked.
“Aha! Victory! K.O!” Hollered the younger, throwing both fists in the air in an excited little dance.
“My turn, my turn!” Singsonged the other boy next to him, shaking his hands in anticipation. The pair of penguin puppets in his grasp bounced in correspondence, already challenging Soobin to another duel. Thus, he can only let out another light chuckle, nodding without much resistance. “Okay, but don’t cry if you lose.” Like he could ever resist Hueningkai.
To the far side of the wall, Taehyun and Yeonjun were completely absorbed in their own world—neither choosing to back down from the shadow puppet fight due to their respective competitive nature. Yeonjun’s nose was scrunched in concentration, trying his best to make the sequence look as realistic as possible while the blond wasn’t the least bit bothered in that aspect; continuously knocking Yeonjun’s fox with his squirrel. He just wanted to win. For odd reasons, Soobin found that image to be highly endearing.
Beomgyu commenced his series of fighting sound effects once more, crudely sliding into battle with his grizzly bear as he growled. Yeonjun played along with a dramatically emphasised yelp while Taehyun remained indifferent. Their duel soon became a three-way war, voices growing louder with each victory and more exasperated with each defeat.
This was one of the only fond memories of them he had left, and even now Soobin struggled to remember.
They were so happy together; always have been. Ever since they were little, all they needed were each other. Right? No matter how tough days would get—however tough hardships for a bunch of adolescents could be—as long as he stood by the bridge, waiting for a familiar group of four boys to emerge from the other side of the hill so they could walk home together, he knew everything would be alright.
Or would it?
Then what went wrong? This was a question he had posed to himself more times than he could count. He could recall the good times, the sweet memories, all the silly details—but the most crucial piece of the puzzle he’d always lack.
Where did it stop becoming, and where did it start ending?
Was it when Taehyun and Beomgyu announced that they were dating? Soobin remembered being as equally shocked about it as did anyone else; but more importantly, he remembered being happy for them. Hueningkai ravished, claiming that he’d always seen it coming, to which Taehyun groaned and Beomgyu shyly giggled. Yeonjun teased them with a roll of his eyes and a disgusted scoff, but the mischief in his tone made it clear that he too shared the happiness.
Their relationship never got in the way of their friendship. For the most part, Soobin remembered everything being exactly the same. Although stares exchanged between them would linger a second longer, holding a deeper meaning, smiles just a tad more affectionate; nothing else really changed. Not to Soobin’s knowledge.
Then, where did it go wrong? Was it when he and Yeonjun shared their first kiss?
He wondered if his recount of the event was as close to the truth as he hoped it would be. He didn’t even know how it started. Even thinking about it made him flustered. The only thing he could recall were the vivid arrays of red and gold reflected in Yeonjun’s eyes just before he uttered words that made his heart flutter, leaning in to attach their lips. He observed that it was twilight, the sun slowly cascading behind them like some form of intimate cinematography to serenade their new establishment. He supposed that they were sitting by the little cliff in his backyard, overlooking the mountains beyond. It was Yeonjun’s favourite spot, and therefore, it was also his.
Soobin couldn’t remember how nor when his heart started beating a little differently around him. It was never a cathartic, italicised ‘oh’ moment—that sense of grand discovery never came to him the way he hoped it would like in those coming of age movies he and Yeonjun spent countless hours cuddled up watching. He had no idea how he began to stare at him a little longer, noticing just a bit more about the littlest things he did, or how his eyes would automatically trace themselves to Yeonjun whenever he told a joke, hoping for the older boy to be the first to laugh. Oftentimes, he was. He barely ever missed.
And oftentimes, he would return his secretive glances as well. Since when has Yeonjun’s smile been this attractive? Has he always looked like that? A shy, flabbergasted Soobin could barely find answers to that question, because every time they held hands—a gesture very casual and overdone amongst the five of them—Soobin began to take on a whole different perspective of how Yeonjun would always stroke his thumb over his skin. Has he always done that to others as well? His heartbeat was too loud for him to properly hear his thoughts, therefore he discarded the question. He just hoped his palms weren’t that noticeably sweaty. He hoped and hoped that Yeonjun wouldn’t pull away or read too much into his nervous fidgeting.
And since when did Yeonjun begin looking at him first too whenever he cracked a joke? And why has he always noticed each time?
Has falling in love always been easy, or was it Yeonjun who made it easy?
Was it because he was just so lovable in the way he’d give him forehead kisses for every little accomplishment he achieved? The first to always stand up in class and proudly clap whenever Soobin delivered a presentation—something the older knew he dreaded? The first to pull him aside and embrace him tenderly just when Soobin needed a shoulder to lean on, even with neither of them uttering a word?
Maybe it was because Yeonjun was easy to love. Soobin wasn’t certain if he ever labelled what they had, because despite that development, it felt as though nothing changed; yet nothing stayed the same. Was it possible for it to be this dreamlike, falling slowly then all at once? Perhaps he’s always been in love with him, he thought.
When the older boy pulled back, there was the most stunning smile on his face; and an even more stunning look in his eyes. It made Soobin’s heart jumped when the realisation dawned that this look was reserved for him only. Yeonjun had never looked at anyone else like that. He prided himself in that exclusivity.
If it wasn’t that, then what else?
Soobin couldn’t remember anything beyond Yeonjun’s tender smiles as they stole little kisses behind their friends’ backs, or how whenever they came over Yeonjun would always be the last to leave. On days where it ran late and Soobin’s mother insisted that he stay the night, Yeonjun and Soobin spent their time huddled up under a blanket on his rooftop, watching the stars. Yeonjun would always sing for him, peppering little kisses to the side of his head each time he smiled because ‘you just look too adorable, how can I ever resist?’
New Year’s eve was one of those nights, just after the other had left when they finished the countdown due to their curfews. Yeonjun, as usual, was the only one who stayed. This time, he brought front a large bottle of Pepsi and two plastic cups, seating himself beside Soobin who was already comfortably snuggled into their blanket fort. Above them, the night stars sparkled like miniature diamond showers.
“I have a song I wanna sing to you. I just found it the other day,” he spoke, a wide smile on his face as he poured him a cup. Soobin wordlessly took it, amused. “You like Taylor Swift, don’t you?”
He nodded, sipping the Pepsi, eyes still trained onto the boy who coincidentally was also his only subject of interest. “I do.”
Yeonjun’s wide smile broadened into a full grin. “Perfect, you’ll love this. It’s called New Year’s Day. I know, I know. I’m so romantic, aren’t I?” Soobin only responded with a light giggle that earned him a peck to his temple. The older boy only snuggled closer, wrapping a lazy hand around his waist. Soobin let him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And perhaps it was. Perhaps it was in Yeonjun’s arms where he rightfully belonged.
After clearing his throat dramatically a couple times, Yeonjun finally started.
“There’s glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby.” To Soobin’s totally unbiased opinion, he believed that Yeonjun had the best singing voice out of all of them—scratch that, the entire school. Perhaps the entire city. Maybe even the entire world.
“Candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor, you and me from the night before.” His voice softened at the last part, a knowing smile creeping up his face as he stared at Soobin. Therefore, he couldn’t help but lean in to interrupt his serenading with a small kiss. Yeonjun erupted into what was probably the most melodious laughter Soobin ever heard.
After a while, he let him continue, snuggling into the familiar comfort of his chest. Yeonjun’s fingers threaded through his hair, stroking the back of his head just where he liked it most.
“ — I want your midnights, but I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day.” Soobin heaved out a pleasured sigh, staring up at the stars with blissful eyes. The older boy continued with his song, but Soobin was only half-listening as he was rather distracted by Yeonjun’s heartbeat from where he was pressed against his chest.
“Hold onto the memories, they will hold onto you.” Yeonjun lightly hummed, planting a kiss on the top of his head whenever he could find it in him to catch a break between the lyrics. Soobin could never describe just how much his heart expanded at the older’s little intimate gestures. He felt like he could explode, from sheer happiness; although in hindsight he was aware that that was the most corny thing he could ever say. Soobin was slightly embarrassed by his own train of thoughts.
“And I will hold onto you.” He stopped then, flashing him another one of those smiles Soobin recognised as the ‘Soobin exclusive’—as Yeonjun’d dubbed it. Poor Soobin’s little heart when he barely had time to compliment the older’s singing before his lips were occupied once more.
Needless to say from that day on, it quickly became his favourite song. Their song, Soobin would catch himself thinking on random nights as he fell asleep to it on loop through his earphones, madly giggling like the lovesick fool he was.
Every single day since then, whenever Soobin would turn to glance at Yeonjun, he would find the older boy already staring. Perhaps he’s always been looking at him, and Soobin just failed to notice.
But when did he stop looking? What else went wrong?
Was it when they all rushed out of school when they received news of Yeonjun and his parents caught in a car accident, in which the boy was sent straight to the hospital?
Was it when Yeonjun didn’t wake up for three days; and when he did, he was greeted with the news of his parents having passed away? The events became blurrier as Soobin tried to accurately recall how it all went down. He remembered silence. A long silence as all four of them stood surrounding Yeonjun’s hospital bed, shocked speechless. And when that silence had passed—a painful callback to reality for Soobin—there were cries. Lots of them, coming from every which way to the point it overwhelmed him. He didn’t even remember if one of them were his—if all of them were his. All he knew was that they held each other and cried, sharing Yeonjun’s agony as if it was their own, hearts collectively dropping to the floor like fragile shards of shattered glass.
Maybe that was where it all started going wrong. Only when it was gone did they realise how different it was to not have Yeonjun’s usual joyousness around. The boy didn’t laugh at everything like he did before, the best he could offer now being a half-hearted quirk of his lips. Hueningkai then would take on the role of being the moodmaker of the group, trying his best to shift things into normalcy with his bright energy, loud laughs and lame jokes. Even then, it wasn’t enough. His smiles were a little too wide to the point where it looked like a force grimace at times, his laughs painfully boisterous that anyone would be able to tell it wasn’t genuine. The loss was great, and if it weighed heavy on any of them, it was neverending quicksand for Yeonjun.
Soobin realised that it was since then that whenever he turned to look at Yeonjun, Yeonjun wasn’t looking back. He began to see less and less of his ‘Soobin exclusive’ smile. The older boy was no longer staying late whenever they hung out at his house, needless to say the nights they spent on his rooftop feeling more and more out of reach.
The day they graduated high school, they opted to spend the remainder of the afternoon celebrating. Taehyun had offered a barbecue party at his house, while Hueningkai insisted on the karaoke bar. Soobin and Beomgyu, who have always been the more complacent and less opinionated of the group when it came to hang out spots, decided it was best to let Yeonjun be the tiebreaker.
However, the boy in question only smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes before saying he was sitting this one out because he didn’t feel well. He turned around and headed straight home, and neither of them had the heart to ask him to stay.
It was the first time their circle of five had a vacancy. That fact made them all feel exceedingly hollow, but if any of them noticed the stale look on their faces, no one mentioned it. Like a mask, smiles slipped back on as they headed off. They collectively decided that they would check on Yeonjun later, for now giving him the private time he needed.
Later never came.
The next morning, Soobin remembered the second wave of his biggest loss hitting him unprepared in the form of breaking article headlines.
‘High School Boy Hit by Drunk Driver at Corner of Myeongdong and Gangnam Boulevard, Died on Impact’
When he had to read the name of the boy identified, Soobin felt like a part of him also died at that moment. Maybe this was also where it all went wrong. What else happened after that? Soobin did not know. Perhaps he did, but memories blurred into a distortion of whirlwinds in his mind, wiping his brain clean and making his head ache whenever he tried to remember. Why can’t he remember?
Has he celebrated his birthday since then? Soobin wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t so sure. What happened to Taehyun and Beomgyu? What happened to Hueningkai and his bright smile? Where did they go?
Why did they all leave him?
As Soobin sat there, eyes closed and brows furrowed when he tried to push the extent of his fragmented memories the umpteenth time, a loud slam echoed throughout the room. His eyes involuntarily snapped open.
In front of him stood his mother, expression weary as she stared him down with an unreadable look in her eyes. Soobin had recognised it as remorse; but this time, something more was laced beneath it. Guilt?
“Soobin, honey, there you are.” She approached him, her stance woeful as she gently grabbed him by the hand and forced him up. Thus, Soobin stood. “You seem to always come here on your birthday. It’s time for your meds.”
Soobin didn’t say a word, staring blankly at the empty table where he was seated in front of. There was nothing on top of it—no cake, no snacks, no balloons on the walls, no bright sequin stripes. No them. No him.
Just what went wrong? Why was he alone now?
“You’re going to ask again, aren’t you?” She spoke with a knowing tone as she took the now empty glass from Soobin’s hand, leaning in to tuck his blankets in. Soobin would be embarrassed at the fact that his mother still tucks him in at his big age of twenty, but right now he couldn’t care less. “The look on your face, I know it.”
Therefore, Soobin just stayed quiet and solemnly nodded. His mother heaved out a tiny sigh, put the empty glass by his nightstand, and took a seat on his bed. “Well, since your meds are going to kick in anytime soon, I suppose it’s fine to tell you. The doctor said you won’t remember it anyway. So no lullaby for you tonight, yeah? I’ll sing your favourite song again tomorrow.”
A small smile was present on her face now as she reached in to stroke one side of his face, eyes warm. Something discerning flitted past her expression as quickly as it arrived. If Soobin blinked, he wouldn’t have missed it. But he didn’t.
“They’re gone, honey. They have been. This is the second year.”
For some odd reasons, Soobin was unnaturally calm about this discovery. Maybe it was his medication beginning to take effect like she said—or maybe it was because of the fact that according to his mother, this wasn’t the first time he’s heard it—but to his own surprise, he showed no reaction.
His mother, as if expectant of this, continued like nothing was out of the ordinary. “You remember that on graduation day, you guys wanted to go to a karaoke bar together to celebrate, right? And Yeonjun said he wasn’t feeling well and headed home? So you guys went on without him?” A meek nod. His mother caressed his hair, sorrow now evident in her eyes. It was like she was preparing him for what she was about to say next.
“That didn’t happen. My silly child, for your entire life that you’ve known them, did you think they’d leave without Juni? Of course they wouldn’t. They chased right after him. You were the only one who didn’t.”
Hearing it now made Soobin arrive at a striking epiphany.
Of course. How would they ever leave any of them behind? That was so not like them at all. Why did Soobin think that they did? Why didn’t he follow them? Did something happen there that he didn’t know of? More importantly, why would Soobin ever leave Yeonjun behind—the boy whose eyes hung the stars, whose smile captured his heart? Why wasn’t he the first one to chase after him?
Why?
There was a brief pause before his mother’s soft voice resumed. “They all got hit. It wasn’t just Yeonjun.”
Oh.
“The police said they saw you run to the sidewalk a while afterward, but you said nothing and left. That day, you came home like everything was normal too, so I didn’t ask. The doctor told me later that the shock was so great that the memory began to alter itself out the second you were faced with it.”
Soobin’s brows furrowed, confused, like he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Perhaps he did, but something about his consciousness told him to reject it. He wanted to ask questions, but his muscles suddenly weighed tons more than it did seconds earlier. Even moving his lips was a feat.
Perhaps it was the medication—he hoped it was—but his eyelids began to grow heavy as well, so Soobin gave up trying to fight against the slumber he was being lulled into. In the background, his mother’s words became harder to make out, voice blurring into white noise.
“—called dissociative amnesia, which you got from this trauma. The hospital said yours is the most intense case they’ve ever seen in the past ten years. No treatment seems to work. They tried it all; therapy, medication, hypnosis, meditation. Nothing triggers a reaction, your brain seems to automatically shield you from that memory no matter how many times I’ve told you this. Your birthday seems to be the only day where you show signs of remembrance. You always go to the living room.”
As his eyes slowly closed, he could see the last of his mother’s face inching closer, placing a chaste kiss to his forehead. “My poor boy. Go to sleep now, tomorrow will be a brand new day.”
To Soobin’s hazy mind, her voice sounded like a comforting lullaby—the touches against his cheek gentle and soft. It didn’t take long for his breathing to slow into a steady rhythm, chest heaving with each little rise and fall. Unbeknownst to him, his mother hadn’t left his side.
“Happy birthday. They’re celebrating for you in the heavens.”
The next morning, Soobin woke up anew, mind a clean slate as he then again wondered what went wrong. “Why isn’t he picking up the phone?”