Archive of Our Own ^beta

The audience around him was screaming a pre-show applause as he stood off to the side of the huge stage. A stage he thought he would never see in person. A dream that should have never come true.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I hope you all are having a wonderful night tonight. It is with great honor that I get to announce that we have a very special guest today," the announcer stood in front of the stage, a thick microphone in his hand, much unlike the headsets the actors were wearing backstage. "He flew all the way from Korea just to see this show being put on today- the man who wrote and directed the first appearance of this play..."

At that, a few members of the audience stood on their feet and clapped. 

Wooyoung glanced over to where Hongjoong was sitting, his red, fiery hair was easy to spot in the crowd. Hongjoong met his gaze instantly, a soft smile on his face as he gave a thumbs up.

No matter how many times Wooyoung did this, it never got easier. The nerves always got the best of him. This was no small stage either, and it was no small crowd. 

This was Broadway, ever playwriter and director's dream.

"We are so glad he came to support us on opening night, and we have just a few moments before the curtain opens for the opening act, so we thought it would be an absolute treat to hear from the man who created the masterpiece of the play- so please welcome to the stage ..."

The announcer must have said his name, but the crowd was already screaming by the time the words would have come out of the man's mouth. Wooyoung knew that it was his cue to go, stepping up the rest of the stairs to walk across the large wooden stage. The sound was deafening, but he loved it. 

He was handed a microphone himself when he got to center stage, the lights blinding him to the point where he could barely see anything past them.

"Ah, well good evening everyone," he spoke out in English, having practiced what he wanted to say only hours before. His Korean accent was thick and he could only hope that the people there could understand him. If his hands were shaking, he hoped no one noticed. He made sure to smile widely, doing his best to pretend that he was not scared out of his mind. "It really is an honor to be here tonight, I would have never guessed that this is where I would be standing even three years ago."

The audience finally settled down and sat back in their seats.

Wooyoung gulped and then took a deep breath. 

"I would personally like to thank you all for coming to see the play that I wrote and directed. 'To You' was something that started out just as my final in university and now it has made it to one of the biggest stages in the world- I can't even begin to tell you all what that means to me."

And he really couldn't, these people in front of him would never understand what it meant to him. No one would ever know. 

"And my English is not really good," he found himself chuckling awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck. He could already hear Hongjoong cursing at him later. "But I will do my best to say a few words about this play. It's been three years since I wrote it, and now 'To You' is being shown across the world. When I had written it- I remember not knowing that I had actually written it about someone. One of the most frequently asked questions I get in interviews is who is 'To You' to?"

He paused for a moment, listening to the crowd whisper some hushed words. 

"And I've never actually answered that question before, but I would like to tonight," he glanced nervously over to where Hongjoong was, the older man telling him to take a deep breath. He did. "I had written this play about my childhood best friend- though I didn't know it at the time and it wasn't until it was brought to my attention that I realized I had done it. I think the only thing I really have to say about this play is to remember that once you find something beautiful in life- never let it go."

Wooyoung gulped, and once again took a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

"I never got to tell him, so," he paused for a moment, sweating in the thick blue suit he was wearing. "Yeosang, wherever you are out there, I wrote this to you."

There was a soft and genuine smile on his lips, gasps coming from the crowd. 

"So without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy the play I wrote, 'To You'!" Wooyoung said finally, his voice elevating as everyone around him started clapping once more before he bowed deeply and handed the microphone off and couldn't be happier to finally get off the stage. There was a reason he wasn't the performer and was the writer.

He wasn't Seonghwa. 

He was back in his seat before he knew it, sitting next to Hongjoong as he placed a hand over his beating heart.

"You did well," Hongjoong spoke to him, patting his shoulder with a gentle smile that never failed to calm him down. 

"I nearly got sick-"

"You were definitely green."

"Shut up Hyung," Wooyoung whined, resisting the urge to punch the older redhead in the shoulder. 

"You shut up- it will be starting soon. Seonghwa will be upset if you aren't paying attention."

"You're acting like this is his Broadway debut- he's been doing this for like a whole year now," Wooyoung whispered to him as the lights dimmed, the rest of the crowd quieted down as well.

"He has, but he's been wanting to star in your play ever since we first watched it."

"You two act like it's the most important thing on the entire earth," Wooyoung slumped back in his chair a little, but immediately perked up when the curtain opened and there stood a beautiful tall man on center stage. Wooyoung could see from where he was, the sparkling eyeshadow he was wearing, his black hair gelled back perfectly. 

Seonghwa looked gorgeous as always. 

"Well it's about Yeosang, so it is the most important thing isn't it?" Hongjoong's voice cut through the silence, only enough for Wooyoung to hear.

Yeosang. 

Maybe it was the most important thing.

Wooyoung hated Yeosang. 

He hated Yeosang with every single cell, fiber, and particle in his body. When Wooyoung looked back at it, it's funny to him that he took that much personal offense when Yeosang wouldn't return eye contact. Maybe it was because his six-year-old brain decided the new kid that moved in just a day earlier was a total "meanie", as he as called him back then, that Yeosang became his sworn enemy. 

A bright-eyed kid with a birthmark under his eye that Wooyoung couldn't seem to take his eyes off of. So small in stature, but always held a stuffed elephant in his arms and never put it down regardless of what he had to carry. Wooyoung had been overjoyed that someone was moving in, right next to him no less. It had been the cause of his adrenaline rush and maybe why his mother's favorite vase was shattered on the ground because he took a corner too sharply and knocked it over trying to spy on the new family from the window. 

Yeosang was an only child, sitting on the porch with his stuffed animal clutched to his chest like his life depended on it. He stayed out of the way, so well behaved as his parents and the truck workers helped unload all their stuff into the house. The house itself had been on the market for so long, Wooyoung couldn't remember the last time that someone was living in there. But then again his six-year-old mind couldn't even remember what he had for breakfast most days. He was so small, skin and bones practically, that Wooyoung thought he was a few years younger than himself.

It was probably a week later that Wooyoung was finally allowed to go over, his mother holding his hand tightly along with a plate of "welcome to the neighborhood" cookies, as they went over to welcome the new family. Wooyoung had been ecstatic, jumping over each crack in the sidewalk and tugging on his poor mother's shoulder, punching the doorbell at least five times too many. 

Even from a young age, Wooyoung knew that people liked him. He knew his power, his charm. The bright and giant smile that his mother always praised him for and his round cheeks that no one could resist pinching.

Maybe all that praise got to his head, inflating his ego to a size that no child should ever have because as soon as Wooyoung said his introductions with his very famous smile and chirpy voice and Yeosang wouldn't even look at him- his whole world shattered. 

He was stunned, to say the least, frozen in his spot when Yeosang wouldn't respond other than a super brief look that at least acknowledged Wooyoung's presence in the world, but only because his mother told him to. 

And maybe six-year-old Wooyoung was a tad bit on the dramatic side, nearly in tears when he got back inside his house, collapsing on the couch like his whole entire life had been a lie.

"He didn't even say hi to me-" he cried to his mother, alligator tears finally spilling from his eyes as his mother stood in front of him with a fond expression. "Why didn't he even- does he not like me?"

"You know," she squatted down next to him, pushing his hair out of his face and wiping his tears away. It was no use, they kept coming back, but she tried anyway. "Some people are shy Youngie. Remember San? He was so quiet the first day of pre-school and now you two are best friends."

"But- San at least said hi back," Wooyoung sniffled and then proceeded to catch a terrible case of the hiccups to which his mother couldn't help but coo and kiss his nose. 

"Just give him some time dear."

And maybe the world hated him, at six years old Wooyoung felt like he was going through his midlife crisis because it just so happened that Yeosang was attending the same school he was. There he was, standing up at the front of the classroom with his big, stuff elephant that was almost the same size as him. Wooyoung had just pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking down into his chair as the teacher introduced the new student. 

Fate had it, the only empty seat in the first grade was next to Wooyoung. 

But what hurt even worse, was that San seemed to be able to crack Yeosang's hard exterior. Okay, well maybe that was also a little exaggeration but that's how Wooyoung remembered it. San had gotten Yeosang to be able to smile before Wooyoung got him to say hello. 

So yes, to put it simply, Wooyoung hated Yeosang. 

Yeosang was his sworn enemy. All because the boy refused to acknowledge him other than maybe a brief glance and then would laugh when San walked into a glass door. 

It wasn't fair. 

But Wooyoung was no quitter. No, his mother raised him better than that. If Yeosang was going to ignore him and his entire earthly existence, then Wooyoung was going to prove that he was not someone that Yeosang could just forget. 

So it was safe to say that Wooyoung had been desperately trying to make a lasting memory in Yeosang's brain since they were six. 

Even when they got to junior high, Yeosang still had yet to mutter a single word to him. It drove Wooyoung absolutely mad. For almost a year, he thought that maybe Yeosang couldn't speak and it wasn't actually his fault that he didn't say anything to Wooyoung.

But that was until he heard San and Yeosang talking during lunch that the idea of forgiveness settling in Wooyoung's stomach flew right out the window. 

"- So my dad had to pick me up from practice, and he came with his blue '69 mustang," San was speaking, stuffing his ham and cheese sandwich into his mouth. Yeosang was sitting across from him, his elephant sitting on the table. Wooyoung was at the opposite end of the table and if this had been an anime, he was sure the artist would've depicted him with a dark raincloud over his head. "- and now everyone on the team won't stop asking me for a ride!"

Wooyoung nearly choked on his grapes when he heard Yeosang speak for the first time in his life.

"That's cool," he muttered, voice surprisingly soft and barely there. His face was pretty expressionless, which was normal for him, but his lips were curved slightly upwards which meant he didn't completely hate the conversation. 

"Right? I'm like the popular kid on the team now and it's so..." blah, blah, blah, Wooyoung drowned his overly expressive friend out and instead made a conscious effort to not completely squish his own sandwich in his hand. 

Why he felt so betrayed or even jealous was beside him. Wooyoung had plenty of friends, hell the whole class loved him. He could talk to anyone about anything. He didn't need Yeosang's approval. He really didn't.

But that didn't stop him from keeping San in the locker room a few minutes longer before they had to race out for their physical education class. Maybe Wooyoung was at an all-time low, his second midlife crisis hitting him just at the end of sixth grade, but he was determined to find out why Yeosang didn't like him.

"What?" San asked, standing in the middle of the empty locker room. He looked at Wooyoung like he had grown three other heads, squinting his eyes when the other had held him back while everyone else left to meet their teacher out on the field.

"I said," Wooyoung gritted out, and then leaned closer to whisper in San's ear. He would rather be caught dead than have someone else hear how pathetic he was. "Does Yeosang hate me?"

"Why are you asking me that?" San asked, but there almost seemed to be a tad bit of amusement in his expression. 

"Because- he only talks to you. Granted I have no idea why he would pick you of all people... I mean we are neighbors for the love of God. I don't - I don't understand why he won't speak to me," his voice really started to sound desperate the longer Wooyoung kept talking and it only made him feel even more pathetic.

"Okay first off- ouch, I am an amazing friend. Second off, he's just shy, he barely talks to me either."

"You have the biggest personality on this earth-" Wooyoung countered, running his hands through his hair like he was at a stressful business meeting. "If he's so shy- why the hell would he talk to you?"

"That's a lot of talk coming from someone like you-"

"Shut up."

San was smiling, borderline laughing at this point, clearly more than amused with his predicament. Wooyoung decided he hated San too at that moment. 

"Hey- did you hear from that team you tried out for?" San asked, changing the subject when he decided he had enough fun seeing red, hot steam coming from Wooyoung's ears. "I know you were really excited about it."

Wooyoung gave a look to his friend, almost a glare, but he couldn't stop the immediate smile that took over his face.

"Yeah! They called my mom last night, I made the team," he answered like it was nothing, the cool act he had been perfecting since his younger years. "I start practice next week, catch me playing worldwide when I get to high school."

"You're so full of yourself," San laughed, but smacked Wooyoung on the back, successfully giving him a bright, red five-star. "But congratulations, you're the best soccer player I know. You deserved it!"

"I know I did," Wooyoung smacked San back just as hard and if not harder. What? He was competitive. "But we really have to go now, I don't want detention again."

"Well if you kept that big mouth of yours shut-"

Smack.

"Ow!"

The first time that Yeosang finally spoke to Wooyoung was two years later when they were in eighth grade. If you had asked Wooyoung if he had planned the entire thing, his pride and ego would have said yes. But in reality, it all happened on a whim. A whim that was fueled by frustration and a lack of patience. A whim that was also fueled with the confidence the leather jacket that his mother bought him for Christmas because he felt like one of the greasers from The Outsiders.

It was right before Wooyoung had soccer practice, playing for the school's team as well as his club's. He had just changed into his practice gear, his cleats clicking along the long hallway where he knew Yeosang would be coming out of the math room at any moment. It was the afterschool tutoring club for that algebra and intro to geometry course that half the grade was failing. Technically, Wooyoung should've been in there, his math grade was nothing to be proud of, but he still refused to get help. 

Yeosang on the other hand, must've been some sort of genius and offered to help teach some of his fellow classmates when the teacher was busy. 

Okay, so maybe that was the real reason that Wooyoung refused to attend, not only because it was a conflict with practice but because Yeosang was talking to everyone else, but him. But today was the day that Wooyoung could get an answer out of him, one way or another. He had told San to tell their coach he would be a few minutes late because he had to talk to a teacher about his math grade, which wasn't entirely a lie. 

He stood outside the math classroom, leaning up against the lockers like the cool kids would do in movies, and waited for his target. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he figured it would be best if it wasn't rehearsed, and at least that's what he told himself because he really had no idea what he wanted to say in the first place. 

So when Yeosang came out of the math room, pulling his backpack over his shoulder where Wooyoung could see just the top of the stuffed elephant poking out of it, he knew he needed to make his move. Wooyoung deserved an answer, after all, he had been nothing but kind to the other.

He raised his hand to talk, choosing to take a nice and gentle approach, but Yeosang walked right past him.

What the ...?

Being nice and gentle flew right out the window because before Wooyoung knew it, he had taken three giant steps and slammed his arm on the locker right in front of where Yeosang was walking with his head down, successfully stopping him. Maybe it was a little aggressive, the loud noise nearly echoed throughout the hallway and Yeosang barely stopped in time before he ran into Wooyoung's arm. Yeosang was smaller than him, smaller than the entire class, and when he looked up at Wooyoung with wide eyes that were screaming in alarm, Wooyoung almost felt bad.

He wasn't a monster or a bully, so of course, the fear in Yeosang's eyes did not please him. 

But he still wanted an answer. 

"Why do you ignore me?" He asked flatly, dryer than he would've wanted but maybe his frustrations had finally snapped. He knew that his face was scrunched up like he had smelled old cheese, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

It almost looked like Yeosang was going to ignore him once again, and Wooyoung was about ready to completely blow and then never try again. The smaller just stared down at his shoes, his fingers twiddling together like he was nervous, but he didn't move, and neither did Wooyoung.

"Why do you care?"

It was soft, but it was there. The first words that Yeosang ever spoke to him, the first words in a little over seven years of knowing each other. Yeosang looked up at him, his eyes still wide but they looked less alarmed. Had it been anyone else, literally anyone else that had said those words to him, Wooyoung would've taken offense to them, especially with the attitude Yeosang had said it in.

But no. Wooyoung was overjoyed, so overjoyed, in fact, that he almost had a whole out-of-body experience. 

"Well?"

There is was again, Yeosang talked to him twice.

Wooyoung could only blink, his tongue refusing to work for a moment and all he could do was smile. 

"Why? Because I want to be friends," he said after a few more moments, still unable to get over the fact that shy, tiny, little Yeosang had an attitude. "We're next door neighbors too, we should walk home together."

"You have practice until late," Yeosang said, stepping back from his arm. 

"Wait for me then," Wooyoung smiled, making sure to use all of his charms to try and get Yeosang to see that he was not scary. His comment was definitely out there, but Wooyoung was no wimp. His motto was "go big or go home" after all. 

"Why should I wait for you?"

"Because," Wooyoung kept smiling, so happy that nothing in his life could ruin his mood. "We're best friends now. Walk home with me today."

He didn't even phrase it as a question.

"I haven't even agreed to a single thing-"

"Great, I'll see you after practice!" Wooyoung left no room for argument, finally pulling his hand off the locker. He smiled so widely, knowing it was probably blindly towards the other boy standing three feet in front of him. 

Before Yeosang could say no, or say anything at all, Wooyoung was already bolting down the hall, his cheats echoing on the tile. But right as he rounded the corner to burst out of the doors, he looked back briefly to see that Yeosang's usually expressionless face, had the smallest little smile on it.

Bingo. 

When practice was over, Wooyoung was dripping sweat from every single ounce of skin on his body, he almost forgot what he had told Yeosang. Almost. The practice was two hours, and in all reality, he hadn't expected the smaller boy to even consider waiting for him, so after he had slung his sports bag over his shoulder and had walked up the few flights of stairs to get to the main school building, he hadn't expected to see a certain boy with his elephant stuffed animal clutched in his arms sitting at the lunch benches. 

Maybe that's really when Wooyoung had fell for him. Eighth grade, after soccer practice on a Wednesday evening. 

And maybe that's why Wooyoung got a lot of the things he wanted in life because he spoke up about it. The older he got, the more his confidence in himself grew. He wasn't afraid to speak up for himself of the injustices around him, and he learned to grow out of needing everyone to like him too. Wooyoung grew up very quickly, probably sooner than he should've. But life wasn't always the kindest to him in that aspect. 

But it was the little things that made him happy, or more specifically, one little thing that happened to go by the name Kang Yeosang. 

There was a click somewhere in their relationship, and Wooyoung couldn't exactly pinpoint when it happened, but he figured it was probably around the time when they started walking home from school together. They had gone from Yeosang completely ignoring Wooyoung's existence in life, to almost clinging to him. It didn't bother Wooyoung in the slightest, in fact, he was quite overjoyed with it. 

They finished and graduated eighth grade together, and that was probably the best year Wooyoung ever had. Yeosang would wait for him every day after school so they could walk home together, and sometimes they would take the long way home that passed by a small little park. That was their "hideout" as Wooyoung would call it, though there was nothing hidden about it, and most of the time it was overrun by little kids and their parents. But Yeosang never said anything about it, and his small smile and bright eyes told Wooyoung that he enjoyed it as much as he did himself. 

Yeosang never really did talk much, always seeming to choose his words carefully and would rather express his feelings through facial expressions and actions. But Wooyoung didn't care and wouldn't force him to speak more than he was comfortable with, he just decided he would have to talk double for the both of them. San found it hilarious most days, Yeosang would sit close to Wooyoung at lunch while the two athletes would converse about how stupid the math homework was the night before. 

Wooyoung remembered the last day of eighth grade when they sat together under the tree eating the sandwiches their mothers still made them, enjoying the soft breeze of summer. He didn't think much of it then, but looking back at it now, he didn't realize exactly what it had meant. San seemed to know something about Yeosang. There was always that knowing look in his friend's eye whenever Yeosang would shy away from Wooyoung's physical touches or when his expression would turn sad or borderline sour when Wooyoung smiled at him.

And it happened that Wooyoung was talking about his favorite memories he had about grade school, being characteristically emotional because it was his last day there, and had mentioned that Yeosang was a highlight of his time there.

"You know, even though you ignored me year after year, you still are my best friend that I made here," Wooyoung had said before taking a giant bite out of his sandwich.

"Are you really going to throw away our friendship like that-" San had cried out, clearly scandalized.

"Oh shut up, you bully me more than actually love me. You literally kicked the ball into my face last night-"

"Yeah, yeah, okay whatever. Shut up now," San grumbled, a fake sort of hurt washing over his face. 

Wooyoung had laughed at that, overjoyed with his victory over his menacing friend, but when he looked over at Yeosang who had gone completely silent, Wooyoung's smile had dropped a little. Yeosang almost looked pained, his lips pressed together and if his hair hadn't been so long that it covered his eyes, Wooyoung would've been able to see the tears that had filled them. 

Wooyoung never questioned it and had asked Yeosang many times if he was making him uncomfortable and the other was always quick to tell him that he was doing nothing wrong. It was always a mystery why Yeosang would look so hurt or out of place when that happened, but Wooyoung figured if something was really bothering his friend, Yeosang would tell him.

Yeosang and Wooyoung both entered the next chapter in their life, but this time they did it together. High school.

What Wooyoung thought would be the best four years of his life, thanks to the High School Musical Series, was what made him so excited to experience it, was definitely a lie. Yeosang on the other hand never really expressed joy or even resentment towards it, but instead just followed behind Wooyoung every step of the way.

Just like in grade school, Wooyoung had a big personality. And with every big personality, comes a shy, reserved friend. 

Thankfully, the summer before their freshman year, their friendship had gotten even tighter so Yeosang wasn't too shy to be able to hold onto the strings of Wooyoung's backpack when the hallways were so crowded to help navigate him through. In fact, Yeosang wasn't too shy with Wooyoung to even hold onto his arm when there really were too many people around them. 

Wooyoung owed it all to San, the glue in the relationship.

San had gone to a different high school, and so he made it very clear to the both of them that they would be spending every day of their summer vacation together before they wouldn't see each other again. It was bittersweet, and every movie, pool visit, hiking adventure, or sneaking out of the house left a little bit of a sour feeling in Wooyoung's stomach because he knew that it was only a countdown until he would never see his first best friend, San, again. 

But all that time spent together was what allowed Yeosang to get closer to Wooyoung, and to be able to really get to know each other. It was a blessing in disguise, and so were the two of them having most of their classes together.

Yeosang wasn't awkward, or "weird". He was just quiet. By their sophomore year, Wooyoung had seen development in his best friend. He was talking more, smiling more often than not. It wasn't hard to make conversation with him at all, but he didn't really speak unless spoken to. He was pretty popular with the teachers, very respectful to them, and excelling in his classes. He was even well known among his classmates, always greeting him in the hall when he passed by and Yeosang would wave back with a soft smile and it never failed to make Wooyoung's heart flutter because he was so proud. 

He had stopped bringing his stuffed animal to school freshman year, but whenever Wooyoung went over to his house to study (play video games), it was always atop his friend's bed without fail. He knew that it was common to keep stuffed animals, but usually, people would grow out of them as they got older. Wooyoung didn't think Yeosang was weird for holding onto a child's toy but found himself growing curious about it each time he went over.

"What's the elephant for?" He asked when both of them were deep in Mario Kart. Yeosang was winning by quite a bit already, so maybe that's why Wooyoung decided to hit him with the question then as a diversion. 

"What elephant?"

"The stuffed animal you carried around until freshman year?"

"Oh," Yeosang said, his eyes still very concentrated on the screen in his room. "You didn't seem to have a problem with it before."

"I don't have a problem with it," Wooyoung was quick to shut that idea down, getting a little distracted himself and furthering the distance between the two of them. "I was just wondering if it had like a special memory associated with it or something like that?"

Had Wooyoung been looking at Yeosang, he would've noticed the little side-eye that he gave him. 

When Yeosang didn't respond, Wooyoung went to try and dismiss the topic. "You don't have to answer that- it really isn't that big of a deal-"

"No it's-" Yeosang cut him off, and Wooyoung caught out of the corner of his eye Yeosang nearly driving off the path. "It's not a sore subject for me. It was just the first friend I ever had."

It was sweet, and it made Wooyoung's chest bubble happily at that. But just like all things Yeosang, it was also bitter. 

"I love that."

"Yeah, I carried that around to keep me company."

"Why don't you carry it around anymore?" Wooyoung asked, pausing the game and suppressing the urge to laugh at the hurt noise coming from Yeosang's throat. He turned to sit facing Yeosang as the other just leaned back against his bed and sighed. 

"Well," he started, placing the controller down in his lap and letting his arms drop down to his side. "I figured I would become a major target for bullying if I was carrying around my stuffed elephant."

"Would you?" Wooyoung continued, folding his hands together. "I mean would you still carry it around if there was a guarantee that you wouldn't be bullied?"

Yeosang was quiet for a few moments and appeared deep in thought. He opened his mouth and then closed it a second later. 

"No," he answered, staring at the paused screen.

"Why not?"

He paused again, but instead of thinking hard about it, Yeosang just smiled and turned to look at him. "Because I have you now."

It was funny how it happened, but the older they got, the more popular the two of them were. By the end of sophomore year, everyone in the school knew who they were. It wasn't a large high school by any means, the one that San went to was leagues bigger, but it was still no small feat. Yeosang was known for his academics, excelling in everything and tutoring students after school had ended in any subject they needed it. He was gentle and kind and somehow found a way to explain it to them in a way they could understand. There wasn't a single person who was in their right mind that didn't like him. Of course, there were those that were jealous of his success and "fame" and would do what they could to sabotage him.

But what they didn't know was that Yeosang was Wooyoung's best friend, and if he ever caught wind of someone planning something, Wooyoung would put an immediate stop to it. 

While Yeosang was knowing for his academics and calm personality, Wooyoung was known for his power and athletics. From a young age, Wooyoung had shown very promising results in soccer. He and San had played together in many rec leagues and then for the school too. But Wooyoung had always stood out, a phenomenal wing player with an insane amount of stamina and power behind every play he did. He was captain by his junior year and took them to the finals which they did end up winning, and that was what really got him recognized by a bunch of college scouts. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung were about as different as they could be, but they stuck together like superglue. Wooyoung had tried to teach Yeosang to play soccer but when the older had a lovely running into with the ball to his face, Wooyoung decided that maybe soccer wasn't Yeosang's thing. It was endearing though that he would keep trying and would try to make every one of Wooyoung's games. 

His number one supporter. 

They even dyed their hair together when senior year rolled around. Yeosang went platinum blonde and Wooyoung decided he wanted to try this soft lilac color. It was on a whim, late at night, and with a bunch of terrible and cheap box dye with some beer that Yeosang had found from his parent's house- the two boys found themselves with different colored hair and a stained bathroom that they knew would never recover. 

It turned out better than they thought it would - or than it really should've. But when they arrived at school, they were already the talk of the week. Wooyoung thrived in the attention, basking in the praise for how good he looked and all the girls and men alike swooning over him. Yeosang stayed away from it as best as he could, he wasn't a spotlight person and would rather study in the library quietly while Wooyoung was bombarded with people in the hallways.

At the beginning of their last semester, Wooyoung had burst into Yeosang's house, or his second house as he would like to call it, and nearly scared the poor blonde to death when he slammed a closed letter onto the kitchen table where Yeosang was studying his calculus.

"What's that?" he asked, staring at the offending envelope and then glancing up to see Wooyoung's face.

"It's from the university that I need to get into-" Wooyoung was nearly jumping around with too much energy, still dressed in his practice gear and Yeosang could see that the younger hadn't even bothered to take his cleats off. 

"Oh really?" Yeosang picked up the letter and held it in his hands. "It's really thick."

"I know-" Wooyoung snatched it out of his hands quickly. "I just- I can't open it. I can't even- if I didn't get accepted then I don't know what I'll do-"

"You applied to multiple amazing colleges Youngie," Yeosang grabbed onto his arm to help ground his friend. "I know this is your favorite one and you've been wanting to go here since... "

"I was ten!"

"Exactly, and I don't doubt at all that you got in," he smiled softly at him.

"But my grades- my GPA has been terrible lately because all I do is soccer and it's such a prestigious university-"

"Wooyoung," Yeosang called his name, a little firmer than before. He pulled the letter from his hands and set it on the table. "We've been studying together, your grades have improved. For someone who is so confident in themself, you have no confidence."

"That sentence made no sense-"

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me for once," the look in Yeosang's eye was sharp, but not mean. It was something that Wooyoung was not really used to and closed his mouth. "If it's meant to be, then you will be accepted. And if not, you are meant to be somewhere else in life. Things happen for a reason, I am a firm believer in that. Sometimes it's not what we want at first, but I also think it's for the best. But all of that being said, please be more confident in yourself. It's weird seeing you not."

Wooyoung pouted, somehow emotional over his best friend's tiny little monologue. 

"I hear what you're saying, and I know you're right, I've just wanted this for so long," was his answer, and Yeosang grabbed his hand and held it in his own. 

"I know, you haven't shut up about it since junior year. Do you want me to open it for you?" Yeosang asked and Wooyoung almost considered it, he really did.

"No, I think I should open it. I don't think I could live with myself if you read that I didn't get in because my math grade sucked."

"You know I'll find out eventually," Yeosang laughed at him, pushing the letter towards his friend. "Go on, I'll be here supporting you no matter what."

And that's how Yeosang found himself with both his arms full with Wooyoung's sobbing body because, by some great miracle, the younger one between them had gotten into the university of his dreams. Wooyoung hadn't needed to read more than eight lines of the long document to realize that he would be going there off of an athletic scholarship. They wanted him because of his abilities as an athlete and offered him a spot on their soccer team. 

"... As long as you maintain a GPA of 2.5, your athletic scholarship will remain active..." Yeosang had managed to take the document from his friend to read over the fine details that Wooyoung dismissed. 

"Easy peasy, lemon squeezy," Wooyoung muttered from the ground, somehow sprawling himself over the wooden floor of the kitchen. 

"What's your GPA right now?"

"2.7, we don't talk about it," Wooyoung grumbled, his eyes closed but smile wide. "All that matters is I got in, nothing can stop me now!"

Yeosang chuckled and tossed the paper onto Wooyoung's lifeless body, watching it fall gracefully over his friend's face. 

"I am proud of you, congratulations."

"Hey, if it wasn't for your countless hours of teaching me the horrid pre-calculus, I wouldn't be here," Wooyoung sat up, the piece of paper falling to the ground. Yeosang looked at him briefly, a rather weird and unusual sense of gratitude on the boy's face. 

"That's what best friends do Youngie," Yeosang chuckled a little before turning his attention back to the books on the table. "Plus, it was such a joy to witness your many mental breakdowns because 'the numbers won't be nice to me' and 'why does math exist? It literally stands for mental abuse towards humans'."

"That because it does stand for mental abuse towards humans," Wooyoung mumbled, and even if his friend was teasing him, there was nothing in the world that could knock him off the cloud nine he was on. "You know, it's easy for you because you're so goddamn smart. Math and every other subject on this planet don't come easy to everyone you know."

"It's because I study and I am not a slave to the sport I play."

"Oh please- the sport is a slave to me," Wooyoung chuckled and stood up, pretending to kick an invisible ball into a goal that was probably the oven. "Did you see the goals I scored last game?"

There was a small smile on Yeosang's face, his fingers reaching for a pen on the table he was using to take notes. While Wooyoung was busy celebrating his imaginary goal, Yeosang couldn't help but watch him with a fond expression.

"You know, not to be sappy or anything," Yeosang started, and Wooyoung couldn't help but try again for another goal. "I am so glad you haven't lost your inner sparkle."

"What does that mean?" The other asked, turning his attention to the seated male.

"You're just like what you used to be when we were kids."

"You saying I'm childish?"

"Not exactly," Yeosang thought for the next few moments, the gears visibly turning in his head about what he wanted to say. "You were so ... how do I put it? Lively? You always had so much energy and were willing to be best friends with everyone. The life of the party to put it best. I've read that it tends to die out in those when they grow up, but you still have your sparkle."

Wooyoung stared for a few moments, blinking a few times as his stomach bubbled. Yeosang didn't say much, but when he did, it was usually with words that Wooyoung could never quite understand. The older was untouchable. He had secrets and spoke with a certain finesse that Wooyoung could never really understand. It was easy for him to say that he knew Yeosang best, and he was very proud of it. But even then, Yeosang was a mystery. 

So when he said things like that, it caught Wooyoung off guard. 

"Sangie," he nearly pouted, a set of emotions taking over him. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the older boy, and rubbed his nose into his cheek. Yeosang shrieked, pushing Wooyoung's face away from him with a stiff arm.

"Get your snotty nose off of me-" he nearly cried, pushing at him with even more force when the younger wined and pushed forward once more. "Maybe I was wrong- you are just a child."

"Yeosang!"

Wooyoung was sky-high, a skip to his step when he walked through the halls. He was nice and friendly by nature, but now that he had gotten the good news, he was even more so. He got all his homework done beforehand, working extra hard in practice and in the weight room after practice to get even stronger. Everyone could see it, and everyone congratulated him for being accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the nation.

His coaches patted him on the back, his teammates doing the same thing but left a lovely five-star mark on his tanned skin. 

It was the last game of the regular season before tournament play started. Of course, they were playing against their rivals early on, hoping to knock them out of the competition knowing very well that it would be their hardest game of the season until they played them again probably in the finals. 

Wooyoung was nervous, and no matter how much experience he had gained over the years, he was never able to learn to control the nerves that took over his body. Was he confident in his team's abilities to win? Of course, he was, in fact, they were expected to win because of the new freshman that had been gifted by God Himself. But still, he knew the university had sent their coaches to come to watch him and how he did in a game as big as this. 

"You're going to be fine," Yeosang told him, both of them standing outside of the locker room where Wooyoung was supposed to be getting changed into his uniform already. "It's not like this game will knock you out of the tournament, right?"

"No, it's not. But if we win, it will place us in the spot we want to be in the tournament bracket. That means easier games for us to play," Wooyoung answered, running his hand through his hair.

"I don't understand how sports work but okay..." Yeosang sighed, leaning his shoulder on the wall. "Just play like you always do."

"They are watching me," Wooyoung whispered, looking around carefully like the walls around them had ears. 

"They already know how you play, they just want to see how you are under pressure. You have beat this team many times, you know how they play."

"They play dirty," Wooyoung grumbled. "So fucking dirty."

"Then be careful," Wooyoung looked up to see Yeosang looking at him, a slight glare in his eyes. "You hurt your knee last practice, it's not fully healed. If they play that dirty and see you're injured, you'll be the main target."

Wooyoung looked down at his knee, seeing the tape wrapped around it for support. It glared at him almost as much as Yeosang was. He knew the older was right, he could feel the difference in it when he walked. It didn't necessarily hurt, but something was off. His coaches and trainers told him to take it easy so he wouldn't worsen it, but the pressure was getting to him. 

"I can't take it easy..."

"Yes, you can. Don't be stupid."

Wooyoung sighed, nearly sweating from how nervous he was. He knew Yeosang was right, but his adrenaline was running hot and he hadn't even started warming up yet. Wooyoung was never good at controlling it, and no matter how many times Yeosang tried to calm him down, it never worked. 

"I have to get ready," he said, cracking his knuckles on his fingers. Yeosang cringed at the noise but nodded regardless. 

"Alright, go kick some ass, captain. I'll be watching from the bleachers."

In all his years of playing, Wooyoung had acquired many injuries. From sprained ankles to bruised hips, he had basically seen it all. Thankfully, none were super serious and required him to sit out for more than three practices at a time. It was a miracle, he was a careless player and would do moves that would send most to the hospital. But Wooyoung knew his body very well, he knew what he could handle and what he couldn't. His coaches and teammates trusted him in that area too, knowing that he would push himself up until the absolute limit.

Wooyoung was a risk-taker, but he wasn't stupid. 

Being captain of the soccer team also meant he had a responsibility to his teammates to not get hurt either. It was his job to lead them and stay out on the field no matter what happened or who they were playing. 

This game should've been no different. 

Right before they started playing, Wooyoung looked up into the stands, immediately spotting Yeosang among the crazy students and parents who were screaming at the top of their lungs. He couldn't pinpoint was the emotion on his face was, but it looked like he was worried. He gave Yeosang a thumbs up, flashing his famous smile to the camera crew that was on the sidelines of the field.

It was his routine that helped him calm down, get into the zone. Even after warming up, taking a few shots at the goal, and nailing each one perfectly like he always did, he could tell something was wrong. Something was very off and he couldn't tell what it was.

He didn't know if it was the other team getting into his head, his lifetime-long rival already making nasty shots at him. Usually, he would play along, throw the same comments back as friendly and competitive banter, but he just couldn't. The bells and the yelling were louder than he remembered, the crowd had tripled in size since he last looked. His teammates looked ready, fire in their eyes from the pep-talk Wooyoung gave earlier. But Wooyoung just stood on the field, grass slightly wet from the rain they had earlier that day and swallowed thickly. 

He looked once up to Yeosang who was pressed against the railing on the stands with barely any space left because of how many people were there. His eyes widened, heart starting to race even more than it already was because San was there too.

San who he had not seen in years, San who used to be his best friend and soccer partner since they were in diapers. San had finally been able to come to one of his games because he had finally gotten a break in his own schedule of games. He had become a young soccer legend too, both of their names would appear in the paper sometimes when talking about promising future athletes and if it wasn't for the fact that their schools were so far away, they would've played each other.

Wooyoung would've thought that seeing him would've made him overjoyed and excited, so happy to have finally seen the man after all these years. San had even dyed his hair too, almost as blonde as Yeosang was next to him. But no, suddenly he felt even worse, his stomach tying into thick knots that almost had him keeling over.

San waved, but his smile dropped from his face when he saw his friend's condition. Wooyoung could see him turn to Yeosang, both of their faces turning into a thick worried expression.

Wooyoung hated it.

But when the whistles from the refs blew, signaling the game to start, all the sirens going off in Wooyoung's head were ignored. He pushed down the screaming in his heart, moving with his teammates as they had gotten the ball, and proceeded down the field. It was going fine, Wooyoung's knee was holding up perfectly, there was no pain and when he ran to chase after the ball that was kicked too far in front of him by his teammate, he had no problems with it. 

It wasn't until the defender confronted him, his big body that was probably two sizes bigger than his own, that everything really went downhill. It all happened in a second, Wooyoung dribbling the ball perfectly with his feet to move around the defender with practiced ease - but then suddenly colliding with the wet ground. 

He had no idea what had just happened, just the very distant sound of a million different whistles blowing and the crowd suddenly going quiet. His teammates rushed around him, standing over him as all he could do was look straight up at the blinding lights that surrounded the field.

"Holy shit-"

"Wooyoung! Are you okay?"

"You son of a bitch! That was the cheapest shot I've ever seen in my life!" 

Wooyoung swallowed, his vision scattered with black dots as he was struggling to breathe. He thought distantly that the wind had been knocked out of him, but he was losing consciousness quickly and the last thing he remembered was someone screaming, "get out of my way" and the searing pain in his knee. 

When he woke, he was in a place he was not familiar with but was quickly able to figure out that it was a hospital. His clothes hadn't been changed, still laying on the hospital bed in his uniform, the only difference was when he looked down that his right knee had the bulkiest brace on it. Starting from midthigh and ending almost by his ankle, the brace held him completely still and the second he tried to move his leg, the pain that soared up his body was enough to make him nearly scream out. 

Wooyoung was no doctor, not even close, but he knew that didn't mean anything good. 

But before he could start to freak out all the way and completely lose his mind, there was a soft hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down onto the bed. Wooyoung wanted to protest, but there was no strength in his body and the more he moved, the pain only got worse and worse. He wanted to cry, as pathetic as it was, and he couldn't help the tears that welled up in his eye.

"Wooyoung, please sit back, it will only hurt worse."

Wooyoung knew who it was in an instant, the sweet honeydew of a voice was a dead giveaway. He didn't even need to open his eyes.

"Yeosang- fucking hell- what happened? Where's San? Is my mom here?" 

Yeosang still kept a firm grip on his shoulder, keeping his back pressed against the bed. Wooyoung kept his eyes closed, the bright light making him sick to his stomach. 

"San is talking to the doctor about getting you some better pain meds, and your mother is coming, she was just held up at the diner," Yeosang answered him smoothly, his hand moving to pat Wooyoung's head. "You're still running a fever."

"God- it hurts so bad- what happened?"

"I couldn't really see what happened but San said that the defender stuck his leg out when you passed him and knocked you to the ground really hard, the wet grass probably made the fall even worse," he answered again, and Wooyoung could feel the bed dip slightly, assuming Yeosang was sitting next to him. 

"I told you," Wooyoung swallowed, his throat suddenly burning. "They play dirty."

Yeosang didn't answer, and Wooyoung already knew the older was frowning deeply. 

Before he could say anything else, someone else must've walked into the room, and just from the frustrated sigh alone, Wooyoung knew it was San.

"They refuse to give him more pain meds, something about it being unlawful-" San's irritated voice would've made Wooyoung laugh had it been a different situation, but the youngest couldn't manage even a smile. "Can't they see how much pain he is in- it's a miracle he didn't pass out sooner!"

"San," Yeosang called, and Wooyoung opened his eyes just in time to see the oldest bring a finger to his lips to tell San to be quiet. 

But San was San, and as soon as he saw Wooyoung move, somehow back from the dead, he was at his side immediately, his eyes wide with worry. 

"Oh my- you're alive- I thought you died!"

"Be careful-" Yeosang was quick to push San off the bed before he could disturb Wooyoung's leg. San apologized quickly and instead just stood by the side of the bed where Wooyoung's head was.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Like I'm dying, it hurts so bad," Wooyoung answered, bringing his hand down to feel the top of the brace. His whole leg was throbbing and he could barely feel the ice pack that was pushed on top. The tears finally started to fall from his eyes, and he wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the embarrassment he was feeling. 

"Fuck-" San cursed and stood up straight. He looked as stressed as Yeosang was. "Your mom will be here soon- I wish they could give you more pain meds but they can't."

"It's fine-" Wooyoung croaked, trying to lay as still as possible. "How's the game going?"

"How can you care about the game right now?" Yeosang asked in disbelief.

"The defender was kicked out, but the game is still going on. Once it's over I am sure your teammates will come and visit. Everyone is very worried."

"This is so embarrassing," Wooyoung brought an arm over his eyes to try and hide the tears that refused to stop falling. He knew he looked absolutely awful, his eyes burned and he could barely breathe because of his stuffed nose. "What's wrong with my knee?"

Part of him didn't want to even know, and when the silence dragged out longer than he would've wanted it, Wooyoung only grew sicker to his stomach.

"What's wrong with me?" He asked again, his chest feeling heavy.

San and Yeosang must've exchanged a look because their answer was the same.

"We can tell you later, for now, just focus on not moving." 

"Don't give me that, just fucking tell me!"

"Wooyoung-" San started, the distress clear in his voice, but Yeosang cut him off.

"You blew out your knee."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

"What-?"

"The ligaments- they're gone," he answered quietly, the hand on his shoulder tightening almost painfully. 

Suddenly, Wooyoung couldn't breathe.

"All of them?" He asked, his voice stuttering as his mind raced to catch up with the news.

"All of them.  Tore them right off. You'll need surgery."

"But I- I can't - the tournament- the scholarship- I can't have surgery!" He tried to sit up again, adrenaline flying through his bloodstream. Two pairs of hands were on him this time, pushing him back down on the rough bed to keep him there.

"There is no tournament Wooyoung," Yeosang's voice was cloudy in his ear, almost like his head was underwater. "You're done. You can't play anymore." 

Wooyoung didn't remember much else from that day. He couldn't remember if he completely broke down into tears or if he passed out altogether after Yeosang had said that. He could've blocked it from his memory, and he had even asked Yeosang many times, even years later what had happened after that, but the older never told him. Wooyoung remembered that day as the turning point in his life. 

He hadn't exactly had the easiest life ever, but it wasn't hard either. But after that day, it seemed that everything went downhill. He knew later on in his adult life that a lot of it had been because of his over-emotional self, but there were also a lot of unforeseen parts that happened. If he had been more observant, then maybe the future wouldn't have been such a shock for him. 

Wooyoung grew up that day, more than he thought he did. 

Yeosang helped him as much as he could, and San too when he could as well. But San still had his own life, far away, living the dream that Wooyoung was supposed to. News of what had happened to Wooyoung spread all over the town and school, and even though he appreciated the condolences, it was only a reminder of what had happened. Even though he technically didn't have to show up for practice anymore, he still did, hobbling around on his crutches as best as he could because he couldn't put any weight on his right leg for a long time.

It was humbling and embarrassing, he could barely do anything for himself. Simple things like walking, going up the stairs, or evening opening the door had become nearly impossible for him. Going from being a star athlete to someone who could barely even put clothes on himself was hard for him to swallow. His pride and ego took a big hit, and he forgot how to act sometimes.

He tried to use it as a learning lesson as much as he could, trying not to get too down on himself in the meantime. But it was hard, the constant endorphins and adrenaline soccer had brought him had suddenly disappeared and Wooyoung found himself in almost a state of depression. He tried his best to keep the smile he had on his face, continuing to interact with all his high school friends when he could. But it wasn't the same. 

The night before his surgery, Wooyoung had called Yeosang over to his house because his mother would be working late that night and the younger really needed to get vent. They were up in his room, Wooyoung sitting on the floor with both legs stretched out in front of him while Yeosang was laying on his bed with his head handing off the edge. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, but Yeosang was always different like that.

"I hate this," Wooyoung started, his eyes staring holes into the bulky brace. "I hate this so fucking much.":

"I know," Yeosang responded with, his eyes closed as he put his hands over his chest, fingers laced together. 

"It's so stupid, I can't even - I'm literally so useless. I have no purpose, zero reasons to be here. Can barely even walk up the stairs and everyone stares at me when I walk by them."

"Everyone stared at you before," the older replied softly.

"It's different," Wooyoung gritted out, his fingers tightening into fists by his sides. "They used to stare with admiration like I was someone they wanted to be. I was a role model. Now they just stare at me like I'm weak... wounded."

Yeosang didn't respond, and it was probably better that he didn't. He had known Wooyoung for long enough to know that the younger needed to just vent out all his frustrations. It was a month after the accident and Wooyoung couldn't handle it anymore.

"It's just pity in their eyes, pity, pity, pity. I hate it so much!" Wooyoung's voice nearly cracked, and at the sound of it with the added stress he had been suppressing, tears started to form in his eyes. "I used to be everything and now I literally have nothing. I lost the scholarship because I can't play anymore! Because that kid on the team was so butthurt that he couldn't defend me- he ... he ruined my entire career!"

Wooyoung's eyes only burned, even more, the salt in the tears making them turn red. But it was dark in the room, neither of them had bothered to turn on the light and the only source of light in the room was the dim moon shining through the open curtains. 

"We both know that I ... that I am not smart e-enough to complete university in a degree that will support me enough in life-" Wooyoung's voice finally broke, cracking a little at the end of the sentence and that caused Yeosang to crack open an eye, briefly looking over at Wooyoung who's body was caving in on itself. "... Soccer was all I had. I was going to go pro- now I can't ..."

The tears burned so bad, but Wooyoung refused to let them fall. He refused to embarrass himself any more than he already had. He was hating himself at that moment, wondering why such a thing could ever happen to him.  

"Youngie," Yeosang finally spoke up, his voice gentle and soft like it always was. "You can still play, after your surgery, you will grow stronger. You will become what you once were and you can still go professional later in life if you want. This is only a minor setback, I have seen you come back from things just like this."

"You don't understand," the word came out sharp, a deep sound resonating from the back of Wooyoung's throat as he couldn't even bear to look up at his older friend. "You will never understand because you never ... you've never loved something like I have. This sport - soccer - was everything to me. It was the reason that I woke up, that I was able to put a smile on my face because I just loved it so much. You will never understand because you never played a sport- you'll never know the emotions that it brings. All you do is sit around and study all damn day - your nose is constantly in a book! You'll never understand!"

If Wooyoung had looked up instead of keeping his firey eyes planted on his knee that was bruised beyond repair, he would've noticed the look that Yeosang was giving him. 

"I think I understand more than you will ever know," he commented, his voice slightly more strained than it was before. "And I know you are just upset right now and you are venting, but do not forget that I too have feelings. I would've played a sport if I could've. I would have been active in all the clubs, sports- whatever you want to name it if I could. But life isn't just cruel to you. I sit around and study all damn day because that's all I can do, but you would never know that would you?"

Wooyoung looked up finally, a very unpleasant feeling settling in his stomach making him even more upset than he already was. Yeosang's eyebrows were pinched together. Wooyoung remembered that day that his friend didn't necessarily look mad, but there was a hidden emotion there that he wished he had paid attention to. 

But Yeosang sighed before Wooyoung could open his mouth again and rolled over onto his stomach. 

"But that doesn't matter anyway, what matters is that you get your head in a better place. You're right, I can't fully understand you because I have never been in that exact position before, but I have been in plenty of positions where what I wanted desperately was taken away from me and it wasn't my fault," Yeosang was looking at him, his eyes stern but also understanding. "But you're lucky enough that you can come back from this, you can once again chase your dream and succeed in it. I have known you for so many years, you are strong. Do you remember when your dad left?"

Wooyoung's eyes widened, the tears disappearing. 

"You were so young, he was gone before I had even come. But I remember it didn't really hurt you until later in life, but you still got through it. You've been forced to grow up early- I'm sure only a few people at school know what you've been through. You are strong because of what has hurt you. You may not feel it now, but you are getting stronger and stronger each day," Yeosang told him, the words sitting like a sack of potatoes on Wooyoung's chest. 

"But..." Wooyoung found the word coming out of his mouth before he could even stop it.

"It won't be easy," Yeosang chuckled a little, moving backward to support his body on the bed fully. "I never said that this will be a walk in the park. I haven't seen something take you down like this for a long time. But what I am saying, is that not all hope is lost for you." 

Wooyoung felt words on the tip of his tongue, though he had no idea what they were. He could not deny the way his heart was slamming against his chest from the words his friend was speaking. He had a habit of getting into his own head and not being able to get out by himself, it was one of his toxic traits and he knew it. But Yeosang somehow, always knew how to talk him down with logic and make him feel empowered at the end of it. 

"One day at a time?" Wooyoung whispered, already knowing what the older was going to say.

"One day at a time," Yeosang smiled softly, a sight that the younger would never get tired of seeing ever. 

It was times like these where Wooyoung would love to reminisce about how their relationship had changed over the years.  He also loved to think about how much Yeosang had changed and opened up to the world himself. 

Wooyoung remembered the tiny, tiny little boy sitting on the front porch with his stuffed elephant when he first moved in. He remembered how Yeosang never spoke to anyone or really acknowledged them. The older was always by his parents, clinging to his mother's leg like his life depended on it. It was like that for so long- Yeosang never grew into his body until he was much older.

The kids would call him the runt most of the time because he was just so small. It was like he was malnutrition even though Wooyoung knew his mother fed him well because she also fed him too when he went over to the older's house.

But now, he was bigger, and Wooyoung couldn't help but stare at the way the moonlight would highlight Yeosang's back muscles under his shirt. He had come so far- the little exercise he did had done wonders for him. Not only for him physically, but mentally too. Yeosang was always so self-conscious, and Wooyoung was absolutely delighted to see the older become confident in his own skin. 

But above all, Wooyoung was just happy to be able to call Yeosang his friend. 

He remembered looking at the older one on the bed and just feeling warm, the sight before him was enough to cool his firey heart and help him think more clearly. 

"You're staring at me like you love me," Yeosang commented, a slight chuckle to his words that were enough to bring Wooyoung back to the present.

He shook his head, the dopey smile disappearing from his cheeks as he sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall.

"What is love anyway?" He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I always ask that myself, something I think about when I can't sleep," Yeoasng went back to laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Wooyoung couldn't tear his eyes away from the way Yeosang's bleached hair looked in that position. "Sometimes I wonder if love even exists."

"Why's that?"

"I don't think I have ever experienced it," the older started with, but he seemed to be thinking about a million things at once. "And I don't think I will ever be able to."

"Why not?" Wooyoung leaned forward a little bit, a subconscious frown playing at his lips. 

"Well for starters, I see what love does to others. And I guess it's fair to question if that love is even love itself because it seems to hurt more than it does anything else. I almost feel it's a lie that people created- a false sense of hope you know? I don't think I've ever seen a love story truly work out," Yeosang sighed heavily, his chest rising and falling in a systematic movement. 

"But movies-"

"That's all they are Wooyoung," Yeosang stretched his neck to be able to look at the younger. "Just movies."

"You're such a downer Sangie," Wooyoung found himself nearly whining, though he couldn't help but smile a little bit. "We just need to find you someone who will take your breath away."

"Even if I was able to find someone that I ... loved, it wouldn't work out."

"Why not? You don't know that, you've been single your whole life."

"Because," and Yeosang turned once more, rolling onto his stomach and then sitting up, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them. "I know that in the future, distant or near, that I will not be able to give them what they truly desire."

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, his mouth opening and closing twice before he figured out what he wanted to say. "Are you ... are you asexual?"

Yeosang scrunched his nose in that cute way he always does when Wooyoung said something silly. 

"What no- that's not what I meant by that."

"Then what did you mean?"

Yeosang sighed once more, turning his head to look out the window.

"I mean that if someone could ever truly learn to love me, learn to understand me, learn to accept what could happen..." he started, his jaw tightening up. "... then they should be given the whole world right? That is no easy task."

"You don't exactly make it easy, I had to try for years-"

"I purposefully make it hard, ever since I was young. I knew what I had to do to protect others," Yeosang answered quietly.

"I don't really understand," Wooyoung said, tilting his head to try and follow what his friend was saying. It was hard to see him like this, the person he adored most in the world besides his own mother, talk down about himself like his existence was a burden to others. 

"I don't want to hurt anyone," the older said slowly but even quieter than the last time. His face had dropped, and it was rare to see any sort of emotion on him so Wooyoung couldn't help the way his heart dropped when he saw Yeosang looking so guilty. "And I already fucked up with someone on that."

"With who?" Wooyoung asked carefully, and if he could pull his legs up to his chest like Yeosang was doing, he would. But he was stuck both physically and emotionally. 

Yeosang didn't respond for a few moments, and Wooyoung almost thought that he wasn't going to altogether, but Yeosang closed his eyes and smiled gently. "With you."

Wooyoung could only blink, knowing the older couldn't see his facial expression because he was turned away.

"You haven't fucked up with me? You've never hurt me," Wooyoung answered in confusion.

"But I have, and you'll understand later," the smile seemed forced, more upset than anything. "You'll understand when it hurts most. I was selfish, I never meant to let us get this close. I wanted - I wanted something that I could never have and wasn't strong enough to say no."

Wooyoung could only sit there with his mouth parted open slightly. 

"I don't- I don't understand," he managed to force out.

"I knew that from the moment that I met you, the first day when you came over with your mom to welcome us to the neighborhood, that you would be the reason that my life would be harder than it already was."

Wooyoung shook his head a few times, so many different emotions flooding his head giving him a splitting headache. And right before he was about to say something, Yeosang's body jerked a bit, and then a split second later he was coughing violently, his hand placed over his chest. 

Wooyoung watched for a few seconds, going to move to spring into action to help his friend from his coughing attack, but the brace made everything a million times more difficult and by the time he was able to get to his feet and hobble over to the bed, Yeosang had already pulled out a bottle of pills from his pocket and was shoving them down his throat. 

It took Wooyoung back for probably the tenth time that night, watching the way that Yeosang swallowed them effortlessly without any water. His eyes drifted down to the bottle he had dropped to the bed, some of the pills spilling out and onto the sheets.

"Jesus... they're so big," he muttered to himself, his fingers almost reaching out to grab one. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Yeosang muttered, his voice sounding strained. His hand was still pressed to his chest protectively, but he wasn't coughing any longer. 

"I thought ... I thought you weren't taking pills anymore," Wooyoung sat down on the bed as best as he could, pushing them back into the bottle and closing the lid. "I thought you weren't getting sick anymore..."

Wooyoung knew that Yeosang had struggled with his immune system since he was practically born. He always thought that it was because he was born prematurely and hadn't had time to fully developed which would explain why he was so tiny for so long. But for as long as he knew, the older was always sick with the flu and colds and occasionally pneumonia. He missed a bit of school because of it, but as far as Wooyoung knew, it had gotten a lot better. 

Yeosang hadn't been taking pills for a long time, at least he hadn't seen it. He wasn't always going to the doctors like he did when he was younger. He was healthy and growing stronger physically. 

"I'm not," the older answered, pounding his chest with his fist a few times. "I'm fine, it was just a little relapse. Nothing to be worried about."

"That wasn't something to not be worried about-"

"Wooyoung," and it was the way that Yeosang said his name, his body twisting in an unnatural way to look at Wooyoung with a stern look, that Wooyoung felt even worse. "I am perfectly fine. There is nothing to worry about. Drop it, okay?"

Yeosang and his secrets. Wooyoung may have been his best friend, the only person on the face of the planet that had been able to break the tough exterior of his walls, but that didn't mean Yeosang trusted him enough with everything. 

Did it hurt? More than anyone knew. 

By the time the middle of summer rolled around, Wooyoung's knee had healed enough that he was able to start walking around on his own without the help of the crutches and if he was lucky enough, he wouldn't need the big and bulky brace when he started university. He had dedicated himself to physical therapy, that becoming what soccer once was to him. Yeosang would pick him up afterward in the old blue pickup truck he had fixed up sophomore year and still keep around, every day. 

He told Wooyoung to take it easy at first, but of course, the younger man never listened and the fact that he was healing as quickly as he was, was attributed to his own stubbornness.

But even then, Yeosang knew a bit of it was to make sure that the younger man wouldn't think too much about having to go to a different university after being "kicked out" of his dream school.

They were out getting ice cream on a late summer evening, a week before Wooyoung left for university that was in a completely different city, that he realized that he hasn't asked Yeosang about what he was planning to do for his own schooling.

He had just assumed that the older had gotten into the school of his dreams because of just how damn smart he was. But it still left an uneasy feeling in his stomach, looking over to Yeosang who was licking the vanilla ice cream from the dripping cone because of how hot it was.

"So," he started, adjusting his sitting position in the back trunk of Yeosang's truck. "Where are you going to school? I can't believe I haven't even asked you that yet."

He saw Yeosang tense up a little bit, his fingers tightening around the cone enough for it to crack a little under his fingertips. 

"Oh, well about that," he muttered, turning his head away and just stared down at the cone. "I'm actually not going to university."

Wooyoung found himself blinking dumbly without a single thought in his brain because - what? 

"I'm sorry-" he nearly choked out, his throat suddenly dry. "I know I definitely heard you very wrong because I just heard you saying that you weren't going to school?"

Yeosang sighed, his shoulders dropping like some infinite amount of weight had been bestowed upon him. 

"No, you heard right. I'm not going. High school is it for me in terms of schooling."

"I don't... I don't understand- why?" Wooyoung could feel his heart pelting him against his rib cage. He knew if it wasn't for the sunset casting a warm golden glow on his skin that he would've looked as pale as a sheet of paper. 

It didn't make sense to him in any sort of way. 

"I just," Yeosang started and then pressed his lips together as his hair fell over his eyes when the soft breeze disappeared. "It won't be for me."

"What do you mean it won't be for you? Schooling is what you do best! School has been everything for you- you love it!"

Wooyoung wasn't entirely sure why his voice had elevated in pitch or why he suddenly seemed so distraught about it, but the thought of Yeosang just quitting something he truly loved or the thought of him not going to university was making him sick to his stomach. 

"I know," Yeosang muttered softly, setting the melted ice cream cone on the ledge of the bed of the truck and folding his hands together. "I know how much I love it, it's the only thing that I seem to be able to do well these days." Then he seemed to chuckle, but there was no humor laced in with it. It was a dry laugh, one that seemed forced. "But I guess some things don't work out."

"I don't understand..." Wooyoung felt beside himself, his mouth open in disbelief.

"Don't. Don't try to understand," and it sounded like he was almost pleading with Wooyoung without even looking at him. "There is nothing to understand on your part."

"No- That doesn't... now hold on," Wooyoung set down his own cone and moved closer to Yeosang, grabbing onto his shoulders and forcing the older to face him. "You've been doing this so much lately- you never tell me anything and you're always disappearing for days at a time and won't even tell me why! You can't just tell me that you're not going to university now after you graduated as our valedictorian- and then tell me to not even try to understand why... none of this makes sense- what is going on?!"

Yeosang didn't even look at him, his face tilted away at a rough angle where his jawline was protruding more than it usually was. Wooyoung's fingers subconsciously dug into his friend's shoulders out of frustration. 

"Why won't you tell me!" He asked again, his voice elevated and rough when Yeosang didn't respond to him. 

Once again, when Wooyoung looked back on this memory, he wished he would have paid closer attention to the way Yeosang's eyes glazed over and filled with tears that never fell. But instead, he had been blinded by his own anger and confusion because his best friend since forever ago, had been pushing him away ever since the summer had started. Ever since they graduated high school when Yeosang was nervous to give the valedictorian speech and Wooyoung reassured him that it would be the only speech he wouldn't sleep through- Yeosang had been growing distant. 

His best friend that was gentle as a sheep, who was different than anyone he had ever known, had started to become a stranger to him again. He was reverting back to how they used to be before Wooyoung had cornered Yeosang in middle school and confronted him. 

He hated it. 

He didn't know what had changed, but whatever it was, it was taking his best friend away from him. 

"You never tell me what's going on with you anymore," Wooyoung continued, his voice suddenly softer and had a hint of vulnerability to it. "You never tell me why you're gone for days at a time with no communication or anything like that. Yeosang- this is literally our last summer together and I know we both have kind of been ignoring that and not talking about the elephant in the room- but this is not how I wanted it to end."

"You're acting like we'll never see each other again Youngie," Yeosang's voice was light and airy like he was trying to add a little bit of humor to lighten the dampened mood. He still wasn't looking at Wooyoung, instead, his eyes were cast out to the scenery around them, his dark eyes oddly shiny. "We still have a week before you go."

"That's not the point-" Wooyoung found himself once again in a state of disbelief. "The point is that we haven't really even seen each other all that much this summer and it's the last summer we'll have together!"

Yeosang turned to look at him, his eyes suddenly widening as he took in Wooyoung's appearance. He must've looked absolutely upset because the older was suddenly moving closer like he wanted to console Wooyoung, his hand reaching out but then stopping midway in the air and tightening into a fist before dropping it.

"I'm sorry," the words were muttered so softly and Wooyoung would've missed it if he hadn't been paying attention. "I really am. You have no idea how sorry I am."

"It's your dream Yeosang," Wooyoung found himself saying, his hands finally letting go of his friend's shoulders, the shirt wrinkled where he had his hands earlier. "You've always wanted to go on after high school and become one of the smartest scientists there ever was! That has been your dream since we were little! What could have possibly changed that?"

Yeosang just smiled.

Wooyoung didn't know what was worse, that if the smile was trying to make him feel better, or that the smile seemed genuine.

"And that's all it will ever be, just a dream."

"Why not make it a reality-"

"Not everyone has a happy ending."

"Don't talk like that, I fucking hate when you talk like that. You don't know what the future has in store for you- you will never know. I don't know if you're going through a depressive state right now or what, but you're clearly not okay- haven't been for a while," Wooyoung spoke, sitting back against the metal of the truck and couldn't help but stare at his friend that looked confronted. "Whatever is going on, Sangie, let me help you, please. That's what best friends are for."

There was a moment where both boys just sat in silence and let the wind do the talking for them. They had parked on top of a small hill that overlooked the city. It was where lovers would come to hang out, it was almost a secret and private location that people could come to escape the world around them. Yeosang and Wooyoung often came here on the weekends to get away for many hours at a time, running from their responsibilities. 

"I know," Yeosang said after a while, and he reached forward and patted Wooyoung's outstretched thigh. "You always were too kind to someone like me."

Yeosang and his riddles. Yeosang and his secrets. Curse them all. 

"You know," the older started when the silence became too strong and unbearable. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I've been thinking about my life and everything that's happened in it. I've been thinking about the dreams I used to have as a child and then slowly lost them because I knew what was going to happen."

"I hate when you talk like that... all those riddles that I can't understand. Why don't you just tell me?" Wooyoung spoke out, his voice painfully strained. 

"Because," Yeosang pressed his lips together once more. "It's easier for me that way."

But not for me, Wooyoung thought. I feel like I don't know you anymore.

And maybe that's why he was struggling so badly with it. Because the man in front of him, the one with the overgrown blonde mullet that he had grown up with since they were young children, the man who had unintentionally helped him with everything and anything without even asking for something in return, the man that he called his best friend who he would gladly take a bullet for, was a stranger.

He was scared he didn't actually know who Yeosang was.

He was scared he had already lost the person he could rely on most. The person who was his corner-stone, his partner in crime, the only one who could make him think clearly when he was upset. 

"It's going to rain soon," Yeosang said suddenly. 

That brought Wooyoung back from his depressive tangent, his eyes blinking back the salty tears that had appeared without him knowing. 

"What-"

"It's gonna rain," the older said once more, and he leaned his body back, his neck and head resting against the ledge right where his ice cream was. 

"How do you know-?"

"I can feel it," he answered immediately, and there was the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. "The rain, I can feel it."

Wooyoung looked up at the sky and the slightly darkening colors because the sun was setting behind the horizon. Maybe he really needed to get his eyes checked because he couldn't see any clouds around them no matter how hard he squinted. But he didn't doubt his friend- he had never been wrong about that once in his life.

Maybe Yeosang was some sort of rain whisperer- like dog whisperers but for rain.

He was obsessed with rain, his eyes always lighting up in pure joy when it started raining. He would run outside with his rainjacket and rain shoes on and stay out until it stopped. Yeosang didn't really do that anymore because he was older now, but his smile was still the same. The light in his eyes was still childlike whenever it rained.

Wooyoung looked back down at his friend, seeing the way his eyes were closed and his arms crossed over his chest in complete peace. 

"I think dreams are wonderful things to have, and that everyone should try and follow them, no matter how crazy. I think dreams are beautiful. I think life itself is beautiful, just like the nature around us," Yeosang's deep voice hit Wooyoung like a truck, his words going right through his soul. "I think the world is magical, a place where anything can happen. A place where opportunities lie, where when one door closes, another one opens."

Wooyoung just watched the way Yeosang's adam's apple bobbed up and down when he talked and the way his long eyelashes moved with the wind. 

"The world truly is a wonderful place, despite all the pain and suffering that happens. The joys of life- just simply existing and making new memories with your friends and loved ones- that's all I crave to experience."

Wooyoung shivered, the breeze turning cold and fridged around them.

"And even for those whose life is cut short, unfairly taken from them when they did nothing wrong and never deserved the pain and suffering that came from just waiting for their last day to come, will say that the flowers that bloom in the spring that make the bees buzz around and the birds that chirp when the sun comes up, that life is beautiful."

As Wooyoung sat there, under some sort of spell as he listened to the words that leaked from his best friend's lips, he couldn't help but gulp painfully as his eyes dragged over the hard lines of Yeosang's body. From his pale cheeks to his sharp, tiny, little nose, to even the little fangs on his teeth whenever he smiled. He couldn't even stop himself from looking at his soft pink lips that looked like the older had put some sort of gloss over but half of it had been rubbed off from the ice cream. His wide shoulders and strong chest and arms that had carried Wooyoung many times when he could no longer walk, his eyes went everywhere. 

"Just waiting for that day, when all of this," and Yeosang brought his hands up, gesturing to everything around them without even opening his eyes. "suddenly disappears because life is unfair and cruel to even the most innocent of people, won't change my mind that the world and the wonders that it holds, is truly beautiful."

Wooyoung's jaw opened a little, not able to tear his eyes away from his friend as he smiled and even laughed a little. The sound causing his own heart to jump. 

"God it's so- " and Yeosang's smile only grew, and Wooyoung wondered briefly what his friend was imagining with his eyes closed. "It's so beautiful."

Wooyoung tilted his head, his emotions, and thoughts all over the place. He couldn't pinpoint one specific emotion or even a coherent thought, it was all one giant mess that left him restless as he sat there quietly. 

"So dreams, a wish, an idea, of what you can do with your life- who you could become with the life you were given is something that I never want to let go, that I will never let go. It's something that I am holding onto with both hands because at the end of the day, it's all I'll ever have," Yeosang let out a soft breath, his chest falling and muscles relaxing. "Just a dream of what I could've been."

Off in the distance, there was the softest sound of thunder rumbling from its source. It shook Wooyoung to the core as he watched Yeosang shiver at the sound, his smile only growing.

Beautiful. 

Yeosang was beautiful. 

A week came quicker than anyone could have ever hoped it to. Leaving Yeosang behind in his hometown, leaving his own house with his mother and all the friends he had made in the small community, was something Wooyoung would never have been able to prepare himself for. The night before he left, all his stuff packed into his little car to take to university, the neighborhood held a going-away party for him to wish him the best of luck in his future studies and hopefully his athletics when he healed enough to be able to get back onto the field once more.

It was a wonderful party, a bonfire, and a barbeque with music and dancing and decorations everywhere.

People were happy, the food and atmosphere a lively one that made Wooyoung actually excited for once.

He couldn't dance around like his high school friends were because of his still-healing injury, but he sure did his best. 

San had even come, much to his surprise. The older man still had a few days before he was leaving for his own university and Wooyoung's mother had invited him to come. But what was even more surprising than seeing his old childhood best friend pull up, was that San was not alone. Next to him stood a tall giant, a man with bleached hair that had grown out a bit because the roots were dark. He reminded Wooyoung of the golden retriever one of his teammates had that always came to their games.

"This is Yunho, my boyfriend," San had introduced them and wasn't able to suppress the laugh when Wooyoung choked on his coke. 

"Boyfrie-"

"We've been dating for five months now, and are going to the same university. He was the goalie on our rivalry team and I had run into him by accident trying to score a goal and nearly knocked him out," San explained all too proudly. Yunho beside him laughed lightly, his voice sounding just as pretty as he looked.

Of course, that's how they met. Wooyoung knew that it was perfect. Those two were clearly destined to be together. 

"And you didn't tell me-" Wooyoung pretended to be offended, crossing his arms over his chest with his signature pout. "Friendship card revoked. Not cool man."

"Oh please, it's not like you were ever going to tell me about you-know-who," San shot back, not buying Wooyoung's act for even a moment. 

Wooyoung felt his face pale, not knowing what the older was talking about but also knew exactly what he was talking about. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered, his eyebrows knitted together. 

"Sure you don't," San's smirk was criminalizing. He could read Wooyoung before Wooyoung even knew it himself, that's why he and San had gotten along so well. San just knew.

They had gone off to a place where it was a little quieter, Yunho had found someone he knew, one of Wooyoung's teammates, and was talking with them comfortably. San and Wooyoung were sitting at a barstool, the party was hosted at one of his neighbor's houses, more like a mansion in Wooyoung's opinion, both nursing a cold coke in their hands. From where they were, Wooyoung could see Yeosang who was dressed in all black, a nice button-up shirt with tight ripped jeans that caught everyone's attention with just a quick glance, standing by one of the mothers who was talking to him with a lovely smile on her face.

Just like everyone knew Wooyoung, everyone also knew Yeosang. 

It felt weird to look at him like that. Look at him like what- his brain would supply, not even really understanding his own intentions. But whatever it was, it felt like there was a heavy pressure on top of his chest, pressing down with no relief or any regard for his mental health. 

"So what's going on between you two?" San had asked him, his eyes crinkling at the edges. 

Wooyoung just pressed his lips together, playing with his fingers. 

"He's not going to university and won't tell me why. Something's different about him now, and I don't know what changed. It's like he's avoiding me- and he's always talking in these riddles about life and the joys that it brings and dreams... I just don't understand any of it anymore," Wooyoung hadn't really meant to spill all his words and thoughts like that, but it just happened. San was the only other human on the planet that he could talk to about Yeosang because he was the only other one that was close to the older boy and would understand him.

San was silent, his eyes trailing over to where Yeosang was standing and lightly laughing at something the woman had said next to him. There was a look in his eye, something that looked super familiar to Wooyoung but he couldn't remember where he saw it.

"He hasn't told you, has he?" 

Wooyoung's eyebrows only furrowed more.

"Told me what?" 

San looked away, placing his can of coke on the table and sighing out heavily.

"I can't tell you that," he started. "I made a promise to him that I wouldn't."

Wooyoung wanted to screech at the slighter older man. But the look in San's eye made him hesitate, it made him nervous. San had never looked at him like that before, it was a look he hated to see.

Pity. 

"If it makes you feel any better, I found out on accident," San told him, leaning back in the chair. "But that didn't make the information that I heard any easier to hear. I hope he tells you soon."

Wooyoung could only stare at San, could only look at the way the lights cast a shadow on his deep cheekbones. It was weird to see how they both had grown up, remembering how they used to be when they were in preschool and now sitting together as grown adults ready to go off to university. 

It made him nostalgic, remembering his younger years with San. It made him wish they had gone to the same high school and even the same university and grown up together even more than they already had. But at the same time, San's words did nothing to calm him. It only made him too look over at Yeosang and felt the knot in his stomach tighten. 

"Well I need to go grab my giant of a boyfriend before he gets dragged into another game of soccer, he had a game earlier today and I know he's tired," San hopped off the chair, throwing his empty soda can into the trash before bounding off to go lock arms with Yunho who was trying his best to politely decline a pickup game of soccer and pulled him to safety to go and talk to Wooyoung's mom who was overjoyed to see him.

"Hey," Wooyoung looked up, not even realizing that he had zoned out to his own thoughts until Yeosang was standing in front of him with his hands on his hips. The younger found his mouth dry, licking at his lips as Yeosang raised an eyebrow. "Wanna dance?"

"Who? Me?" Wooyoung asked, looking around dumbly like Yeosang wasn't even talking to him. 

Instead of responding, Yeosang just grabbed onto Wooyoung's wrist and pulled him up and over to where some people had gathered to dance around. It was mainly the younger kids who were dancing to the upbeat music, but as Wooyoung and Yeosang pushed through the crowd, they were able to spot some older adults getting in on the fun. 

The two of them danced around like idiots, trying to make a fool out of themselves, not even bothering to move to the rhythm of the music and just make each other laugh. It was hot and even after a few minutes, they found themselves sweaty, their hair sticking to their necks and foreheads. But the longer they danced together, the longer that Wooyoung really was regretting leaving. 

He tried his best to push the dooming knowledge away that he was going to a place where Yeosang would not be, but it was really pushing through. Even if Yeosang was right in front of him, all smiles and bright eyes, holding onto Wooyoung's hands and shoulders and they danced around- all Wooyoung could think about was how his life would be without Yeosang. 

So when the music quieted down, a slower song playing and everyone seemed to partner up, (the parents coming out with their respective partners), and Wooyoung took Yeosang hands and dropped them over his shoulders and placed his own hands on Yeosang's waist, he couldn't help but feel his chest tighten. 

It wasn't supposed to be that serious, Wooyoung wasn't supposed to be as upset as he was, but it didn't seem fair that Yeosang was as well off as he was when Wooyoung was suffering. San's words earlier had disappeared, and Wooyoung couldn't help but pull his best friend closer, chest to chest, and just held him like his life depended on it.

Wooyoung was always big on skinship- Yeosang not so much. But over the years the older had gotten used to it and never thought anything of it when Wooyoung would hold him chest to chest or chest to back or even sink his teeth into the older's shoulder.

So of course Yeosang thought nothing of Wooyoung's sudden movements. He just chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest in a way that Wooyoung could feel it, and wrapped his arms around Wooyoung and pulled him even closer.

Maybe that's what intimacy felt like, Wooyoung couldn't deny the way his heart wouldn't settle as he rested his cheek on Yeosang's shoulder.

This was his happy place. This was where he belonged. Maybe he didn't really understand what any of that meant for him or for their relationship, but quite frankly, Wooyoung didn't care. Because at that moment, Yeosang, kind and warm Yeosang, was still in his arms, his fingertips pressing into his back in almost a possessive manner. 

"It's going to be alright," Yeosang whispered to him, his voice tickling his ear because of how close he was to him so the younger could hear him over the music.

"I know," Wooyoung mumbled back.

"Everything has a way of working out, no matter how many doors are shut. I will still find a way to see you, I won't let you be alone," Yeosang added, his deep voice being the only thing able to comfort him.

Had Wooyoung been drinking, he could've blamed his next comment on the alcohol, the only problem was there was no alcohol at the party.

He was completely sober. 

"I don't think I can live without you," the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. But even then, he didn't feel embarrassed, and it didn't stop him from pulling away from the older man making them both stop in their swaying from side to side. Wooyoung looked up at the slightly taller man, their gazes catching each other. 

It was an honest statement. Yeosang had always been there. He just had. They hadn't necessarily been friends the entire time, but Yeosang was there, and now Wooyoung wasn't really sure he was ready to leave him behind. 

But Yeosang's eyes were kind and soft. It was like he had been expecting this all along. It was like he knew this would happen and was just waiting for the day when Wooyoung would leave. There was no hatred or anger in his look, only hope and wonder. 

It was almost hard to look at him. 

"You can," he answered back and leaned his forehead down until they both were touching. The heat and the sweat that came from it did not even bother Wooyoung, he didn't care when Yeosang was breathing in the air that he was breathing out. "You will learn to live without me, and you will do it well."

Wooyoung never saw it that day because his eyes had only been on Yeosang at that moment. But he missed the way that San was watching them from the couch where he sat with Yunho, his legs spread over the tall man's lap with his overly large hands gripping onto the meat of San's thigh in a calming way. He missed the way that San had to look away to blink the tears back in his eyes and how Yunho reached up with one of his hands to squeeze at his own.

"Life isn't fair, is it?" San muttered, only so Yunho could hear it.

"No," the blonde answered. "It never is."

Wooyoung's next four years of university presented itself as some of the hardest years in his life. But also some of the best years of his life. The school he had gone to was not an easy one by any means, but it wasn't the prestigious school he was originally accepted into. His classes were both boring and exciting, and it all depended on which teachers he had gotten. 

His freshman year had been utter chaos, moving into the dorms by himself had been hard, but that's when he had met his roommate, Song Mingi, and had made his first friend. Wooyoung had sworn that making friends in a new city, a huge school would be hard for him. But Yeosang had reassured him that making friends was not a weak spot for Wooyoung and that he would be just fine. 

Wooyoung had always been the "it" guy no matter where he went, and it was always super important to him that he was that person. But before he starting his freshman year, he decided he just wanted to be himself, and maybe be more in the shadows instead of being such a public figure. 

Song Mingi was tall. And Song Mingi was loud. But Song Mingi was the reason that Wooyoung enjoyed his freshman year and wasn't too homesick. 

The giant of a man, who Wooyoung always had to look up to, was so friendly that it was hard not to love him. He was on the basketball team and that's how Wooyoung started to make friends, but he was careful with who he befriended and decided that he would rather be acquaintances with more people than actually being friends with them. 

But what really blasted off their relationship was when Mingi shared how he had an injury to his shoulder that took him out for a whole season when he was in high school and couldn't play basketball for what felt like forever. They had bonded over that, and by the time the first month of the semester was over, Wooyoung no longer had to wear any sort of brace for his knee and could start working out normally once more. It was freeing in more ways than one, and he made sure he texted Yeosang every day about his progress. 

It wasn't until his sophomore year that Wooyoung extended his friend group past the giant basketball player. Wooyoung met Seonghwa and Hongjoong through one of his theater classes, both being upperclassmen, and helped him through the tough curriculum. Hongjoong was a designer and made all the clothes and Seonghwa was a star actor whose dream was to make it to Broadway.

He definitely had the face for it, and the voice no less. The man was stunning, having every sort of appeal oozing out of him. Wooyoung even remembered having a crush on the dark-haired man at some point early on in their relationship, some sort of infatuation. But that was quickly shot down when he figured out that he had been dating Hongjoong since they were juniors in high school no less. 

Wooyoung started to work more with the theater group after that, helping out with stage prep and make-up designs, falling in love with the art side of it all. Seonghwa and Hongjoong had been amazing mentors and even better friends. They were super sweet and the high school sweethearts were so talented that Wooyoung found himself wanting to be like them. 

And through Seonghwa, Wooyoung was able to meet Choi Jongho.

It was a little bit of a running joke that Jongho had the same name as San did - which he kept to himself of course - but Jongho was a character. He was on scholarship like Seonghwa was for the theater program and as soon as Jongho had opened his mouth to sing - Wooyoung knew exactly why. 

The kid could sing. He gave every star a run for their money with his angelic voice that could hit any note imaginable. To say Wooyoung was impressed and shocked was an understatement. He remembered standing off stage with some other directors with his jaw on the ground when he first heard the younger man warm up his vocal cords.

How they all became a small group of friends was beyond Wooyoung and his knowledge. But he would have never traded it for the world.

A basketball player, two Broadway stars, a fashion designer, and then Wooyoung, was something that almost seemed wrong, but so right at the same time. 

During his first two years of schooling, he decided he wanted to go into film. He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do, maybe as a film director, but that was the direction he was heading in. He hadn't given up on his soccer dream yet, but the longer he went without playing the sport that used to be his everything- he started to lose the desire to play it. 

It was almost disheartening, but Hongjoong had told him once during a rehearsal break that it was because he had another door open for him that he didn't feel trapped anymore, that he could finally let go of it.

"You said that you sucked in school right?" The blue-haired man had asked him, even though they all knew the answer because they had seen it first-hand many times. "And that soccer was the only way for you to make it big? Or even just make a living you know? It was what you were passionate about, you loved doing it."

"But passions can change many times through a person's life. I didn't always want to be in theater, I was originally going to be a doctor but then I fell in love with singing," Seonghwa pipped in, his head leaned against Hongjoong's shoulder, getting stage makeup all over the other's yellow t-shirt. 

"And that's okay, you can still miss soccer. In fact, I would be surprised if you didn't, it was such a big part of your life. But you found a new passion, you love working with film whether it's pictures or movie making. You found something you're good at, and that's exciting. A door was closed and now a new one has opened. Not to say you shouldn't play it anymore, I am just saying don't feel bad for not actively desiring to play it anymore," Hongjoong's words stuck to him as a bee did to honey. 

"You know," Wooyoung looked up at him from where he was seated on the ground. "Someone very special once told me the same thing about the whole door thing. He said something about doors closing and opening all the time."

"Oh? Someone special?" Mingi perked up from where he was spinning a basketball on his finger. 

"I am so glad that's the only thing you got from that," Wooyoung scoffed at him. 

"Who is this special someone?" Jongho asked from where he was laying on the couch, pillow over his face to block out the light. 

"My childhood best friend," Wooyoung mumbled, but Seonghwa heard him.

"Oh? Was it San? You mentioned him a lot, used to play soccer with him right?" The oldest asked, truly genuine. 

"Wait-" Jongho sat up, the pillow tumbling to the ground. "San. Do you mean, the Choi San? As in the Choi San that is the next hot pick for the national soccer team?"

Wooyoung couldn't help but smile rather proudly. 

"Mhm, that's him. We went to school together and we played together."

"Dude- that's so fucking sick! So you must've been really good then if you played with him-"

Wooyoung's smile faltered just a little, looking down at his knee where he could see the scar he had gotten from surgery. A reminder of what he had lost. 

"He was so good-" Mingi jumped in, equally as excited as Jongho looked. "I searched up some of his high school games and I swear Wooyoung would've gone national with San!"

"Mingi," Seonghwa's voice came out low and warning, not harsh by any means, but still enough to let the younger man know that he should probably stop talking about it.

The basketball player mumbled out an apology, but before the air between their little group got tense, Hongjoong swooped in, tapping Wooyoung's shoulder with his finger.

"So if it's not San, then who is this other childhood best friend? You never mentioned anyone else."

Ah yes. 

Wooyoung never told them about Yeosang. 

"He was just ... someone that I really admired. We had a tricky relationship at first, but we worked it out and in the end, he was my person, you know?" Wooyoung always struggled to describe his relationship with Yeosang, even after knowing him for so long and having so many experiences with him. 

"Yeah, I know," Seonghwa's voice was warm, and Wooyoung didn't even have to look at him to know that he was looking at Hongjoong when he said that.

What a simp.

Luckily, Jongho gagged for him, so Wooyoung wouldn't be the one scolded for ruining the moment... again.

"Well you should bring this person here sometime maybe, I'm sure we'd love to meet him," Hongjoong commented after he leaned over and planted a kiss to Seonghwa's lips in retaliation to Jongho's noise. 

"Oh- I don't know if he'd-"

"It never hurt anyone to ask. I want to meet the man who made Wooyoungie blush just thinking about him."

"He's my best friend-"

"That's what they all say."

"Shut up Mingi!"

"Shut up Mingi-"

Junior year, Wooyoung was asked to start helping with directing the plays the theater program put on. And by senior year, Wooyoung was the one fully directing them. Of course, there was a professor that helped out, the main point of the theater program was student involvement and with Wooyoung's declared major, he was the one doing most of the directing. He had learned so much his junior year and was showing very promising results with the senior year fall play that he was granted full directing abilities for the end of the year spring play. 

The four years passed by in a flash, much quicker than Wooyoung would have ever guessed. 

But it was the amazing friends he had made along the way that helped him get through it. Seonghwa and Hongjoong had already graduated the year before and it had been hard saying goodbye to the older couple, but they promised to come back to see the play Wooyoung was directing. The two of them had gone over to America, Hongjoong signing with a top clothing brand and Seonghwa getting a gig in L.A. and working his way up in the cast lines. 

Wooyoung was so proud of them, and he only wished good things to the couple and couldn't wait to see where life took them. 

But he was still stuck with Mingi and Jongho thankfully, and the two of them kept him plenty busy as he worked his ass off with the upcoming play.

He had a hard enough his junior year helping out, and now he had his head completely under the water with work. It was safe to say that for the two weeks before the play was to start, Wooyoung slept maybe two hours every night. 

But despite his nerves about people disliking the play, he still invited everyone he knew personally. Seonghwa and Hongjoong obviously were invited and they said they had booked a plane ride out already and couldn't wait. Wooyoung invited his mother and she said she might be able to take work off for it but wouldn't know until later.

Wooyoung knew that San wouldn't be able to come because the slightly older man was traveling with the national team during that time for soccer and wouldn't be able to make it, but he sent the invitation anyways. 

And then there was Yeosang. 

Yeosang who he hadn't talked to in a whole year, and Yeosang who he hadn't seen in person for four years. 

Wooyoung didn't know what happened, but last year around the same time, Wooyoung had invited Yeosang to come and see the play he had helped with, but the older man declined to say that he wouldn't be able to make it and hung up immediately after that. Ever since then, Wooyoung had not heard a single word from him, no matter how much he had called or texted. 

So Wooyoung stared at his phone on the table in the dressing room, waiting for rehearsals to start once more, debating whether or not he would even try.

"What's wrong Hyung?" Jongho had come up from behind, his face already caked in the thick stage makeup and dressed in his character's outfit. 

Wooyoung had jumped a little, nearly falling out of his chair, but tried to gather himself as much as he could. 

"Oh, nothing."

"Bullshit, just call him or if you want to be a chicken about it, send a text."

"How do you even know-" Wooyoung started, turning his neck to look at the younger male behind him but Jongho cut him off again. 

"It's written all over your face. It's like you're a lovesick puppy- please don't give me that look it's pathetic- I'm serious, just call him already. I haven't seen you this moppy since last year when he ghosted you."

"He didn't ghost me," Wooyoung hissed, reaching around to smack at Jongho's arm in retaliation. 

"Whatever you say, but the opening scene is starting in thirty seconds and we need our director's head with us and not stuck in some boy next door love story," Jongho laughed a little, but his words still came across on a serious note and left Wooyoung feeling even worse.

"This is why I need Seonghwa-Hyung and not some child punk that doesn't know anything about-"

"What? About love?" Jongho raised his eyebrow, turning on his heel once more before waving his arm for Wooyoung to follow after him. "I think I know more about love than you do. You still don't know you're in love with your childhood best friend."

"It's not love," Wooyoung shot out of his chair, jogging to catch up with the youngest who was already taking center stage. "Love doesn't exist."

The word seemed foreign like it was wrong on his tongue. But the way that Jongho was looking at him, standing right on the small 'X' that was taped into the ground so he knew where to stand for the opening scene, had a shiver run down Wooyoung's spine. 

"If love doesn't exist," he started, his voice lowered so the actors and crew members springing into action around them couldn't hear him. "Then why did you write a play about him?"

Wooyoung felt his heart skip a beat.

"What-" he started, his eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't write this play about him?"

Jongho didn't say anything after that, but the look he gave Wooyoung was startling enough that the older had to walk away immediately, his brain racing in a million different directions each second.

"Alright starting opening scene in three, two, one ...!"

Opening night for the show was as chaotic as it always was, actors and crew members running all over backstage as they frantically tried to get ready on time. All the makeup stations were full, designers and make-up artists sweating in the heat to make sure everyone looked perfect before the show was about to start.

Wooyoung was stressed.

He was so stressed he was sure he was sweating through his suit at this point. Jongho was trying to calm him down, the only seasoned actor that had his shit together properly and wasn't racing backstage to fix things, but Wooyoung was sitting in his director's chair looking like he would faint any second.

"The show literally starts in ten minutes, and half of the actors aren't even dressed yet-"

"Please that's how it always is," Jongho patted his shoulder before yelling at some younger students to hurry up and get ready before the opening curtain would lift.

"I can't even look to see how many people-"

"I think there is close to a thousand-"

"Jongho please, I love you, but shut up."

Before Jongho could open his mouth to retaliate, a voice spoke out behind them. 

"Hey, hey I sense some serious hostility here, perhaps some pre-show nerves?"

Jongho was the first to see them, his eyes lighting up happily which caused Wooyoung to snap his head around to the entrance to the backstage where two very familiar figures stood, and boy was Wooyoung glad to see them.

"Hongjoong! Seonghwa!" Wooyoung bolted out of his chair, not even bothering to put his shoes back on that he had taken off because he was sweating so much. He ran up and hugged the both of them, wrapping his arms around them in the tightest hug. Seonghwa was holding a small bouquet of flowers, dressed in a lovely button-up shirt that Wooyoung made a mental note to ask where he had gotten it later. "Joongie- you dyed your hair again!"

"I work in the fashion industry, what do you want from me?" The older scolded him with no harshness to his voice. The blue hair was long gone, instead, his hair had been cut and dyed an ashy light grey. It looked insanely good on him, and Wooyoung couldn't help but touch it, only mildly surprised that his hair wasn't completely fried. Seonghwa still had his black hair, but he had it brushed and gelled back in a way that showed off his beautiful facial structure that Wooyoung was once jealous of. 

They looked great. 

"Nervous?" Seonghwa asked him after he handed the young director the flowers.

"Petrified," Wooyoung answered immediately, and if it wasn't his answer, it was the way he was pacing back and forth that gave it away.

"Relax- I read the summary of what the play is about on the plane ride over and I can tell you right now that it will be a hit, the audience will love it," Hongjoong reached out and grabbed onto Wooyoung's shoulder, his other hand coming up to press against the younger's cheek to try and calm him down. "I know what you're capable of, and I genuinely am excited to see what you've prepared for us tonight. I truly believe this is your debut for something great Wooyoung."

Wooyoung nearly wanted to cry, those words coming from Hongjoong were no small compliment and it almost made him feel better. Almost.

"Thanks, Hyung," he pouted, and Hongjoong couldn't help but coo and pat the younger's cheek.

"Well we are going to go find our seats, the show is about to start anyways," Hongjoong laced his arm with Seonghwa's, pulling the taller man with him.

"They should be next to mine, front row!" Wooyoung called out to them, waving his arm at them.

"This is why you're my favorite!" Hongjoong called back before the two of them disappeared behind the curtain. 

As soon as they were gone, Wooyoung crept forward and mustered up enough courage to peek out behind the thick curtain to see just how many people showed up. He regretted looking instantly, the sheer number of people was enough to make him lightheaded even though he wasn't the one performing. 

He spotted Hongjoong and Seonghwa who had found their seats and were talking to some people they knew. He even spotted his mom who had been able to make it, sitting down in her chair that was next to his and typing away on her phone as Mingi was beside her. Wooyoung knew there would be an empty seat because San wasn't going to be able to make it for sure, but some part of his heart had hoped that there wouldn't be two empty seats.

He had invited Yeosang over text, because yes he was a coward in Jongho's words, but hadn't gotten a reply. 

He hoped in his heart that the older would make it, his desire to finally see the man and for him to see his final school project had outweighed his better judgment. He knew in his brain that Yeosang wasn't going to come. He tried to not let the disappointment show too much.

He was over it. He had cried over it enough already.

But that still didn't stop the way that his heart ached terribly, his hand reaching up to clutch at his clothing to try and ground himself. But by the time he had taken his seat after shaking many people's hands as they offered their best wishes for a wonderful play, Wooyoung found himself sitting back in his front-row chair, his hand gripping at the armrest of the empty chair next to him.

He thought back to what Jongho had said during rehearsals that one day, about how he had written this play about Yeosang. The idea did not sit well with him, and even as the director and play writer, Wooyoung could not see how the play was about his best friend and even less about how he was in love with him. Love was not real as far as he was concerned. 

Everything Wooyoung ever loved was taken from him.

Love was fake and love was cruel. It was propaganda at best, more like a sickness used to brainwash people. Wooyoung did not love Yeosang. And Yeosang did not love Wooyoung. If anything, the past four years were direct proof of that. Cut communication, complete ghosting from the man that used to be his everything. 

Where had he gone wrong? What had happened to Yeosang and why was he no longer the boy he knew when they were children?

As the play went on, the lights in the theater dimmed low so that the characters playing would be the focus point, Wooyoung found himself experiencing it for the first time. It was like he had never seen it before, hadn't even written it at four in the morning before it was due. The audience around him was into it, he could hear the sniffles and the gasps and the overall hurt that was coming from them. 

Even his own mother had sneaked a slight glance over at him, which he hadn't noticed because his eyes were fixed on the two main characters that took center stage. Her eyes glanced over him, a sad expression that held too much knowledge that even he didn't understand. 

The play was about a boy who grew up chancing after his lifelong crush, a sickly girl who hid from the world because she was scared of herself. It was about their journey together, how he had gained her trust and helped her learn to love herself even in her darkest moments. They grew up together, taking life one step at a time, and the reason that Wooyoung was so worried about the audience's reaction was that this story had no happy ending. People like happy endings, they love when the story is tough but works itself out in the end.

But this play would have no happy ending. 

"I used to hear a simple song," Wooyoung's eyes glanced up to Jongho that had started singing acapella off to the side as he watched his costar walk away from him. She was crying, her body frail because of her sickly nature and she was trying to push him away, to protect him from what was going to happen. But his voice cut through the silence, the entire theater froze as soon as the words left his mouth. 

Wooyoung felt his mother reach over and grab his arm, her face turned up to the stage as a tear leaked from her eye.

"That was until you came along," Jongho's angelic voice rang out again, the sound protruding to every corner.

And it was then, the sudden blast of color all around them as Jongho kept singing his heart out, doing the original song justice in every right way, that Wooyoung felt his heart stop. He watched the characters embrace, Jongho's hand reaching out and cupping the woman's, himself crying because of how sick she looked as he too knew of what the ending held for them. It was all too familiar, a different situation but the same emotion that hurt so bad to lose the person you loved. Love only brought pain, there was no relief, it would end just as soon as it came.

Maybe the younger man was right. His lips parted as he watched the lights and the music cut off, the crescendo of notes stopping abruptly as everything went dark.

"And now I hear a symphony."

He had written this play about Yeosang. He hated it. 

When the play ended and all the actors stood in line on the stage to bow as the audience stood up, clapping so loud that the sound was painful to Wooyoung's ears. The cheers and whistles, the applause itself were enough to make his heart slam against his chest as he watched everyone around him scream out with praise and tears in their eyes. 

He was pulled up on stage, millions of flowers shoved into his arms as he bowed out towards the audience with a grateful smile on his face. And for a moment, Wooyoung forgot all about the pain that had been weighing on his heart. Because the cameras were flashing and the people were still clapping, cheering for him.

Maybe life was beautiful.

He spotted Mingi wiping at his eyes, his white button-up shirt was wet with tears on his sleeves but he stood head and shoulders above most and made sure Wooyoung could see him screaming out to him. He laughed, waving back to Mingi. His eyes found Hongjoong and Seonghwa, where the oldest had tears running down his cheeks and wasn't even bothering to wipe them away.

Hongjoong just smiled, a soft smile that spoke more than any words could. 

Wooyoung wondered briefly, that if San had been able to make it, how he would've reacted. Would he be crying too? Or would he be screaming at Wooyoung like he would when they were younger?

It felt right to be here. And it was at that moment that Wooyoung realized this was what he wanted to do with his life. He was going to take the open door. Because the world behind this door was beautiful. 

He had forgotten about Yeosang when Wooyoung took one last bow with the crew, the biggest smile on his face. 

Until his eyes fell upon a very familiar person in the very back of the theater. 

It was so far away that Wooyoung wasn't sure at first, it was like his brain was trying to deny- to come up with any sort of excuse to deny it. But his heart knew. He could tell it was him just from the way he stood, the way his right foot was slightly more forward, and his shoulders were rounded. He held a singular flower in his hand, a lovely red rose. 

Wooyoung's favorite. 

And it was like the whole world stopped. The cheering and the screaming were gone in an instant. The camera flashes faded, but the color surrounded him only burst more. The dark and greys of the world were suddenly even more beautiful than he remembered. The hatred in his heart evaporated, his lips parting once more as his eyes filled with pressure.

The man's name left his lips, his voice being drowned out by the screaming from everyone else. 

"Yeosang..."

He knew. Yeosang always knew. 

In a flash of light, Yeosang was running towards him, right down the main aisle, scaring people as he passed them. Not that Wooyoung cared, the flowers in his arms all dropped to the wooden stage as he dashed forward to where Yeosang was running to him. He wasn't even thinking, it was a chain reaction, something in his brain just telling him to go.

He met Yeosang right as the other collided with the elevated stage, his fingers gripping onto the edge as his hand reached out for Wooyoung who fell to his knees immediately above him. 

Maybe it was the stage lights, the way it shined down on them like they were the main characters, but Wooyoung could've sworn that the world had become lighter.

"Youngie-" he could barely hear Yeosang's voice, but Wooyoung didn't need to. 

In the moment, Wooyoung blamed it on the adrenaline running through his veins, but he reached forward, both his hands cupping onto Yeosang's thin cheeks. And in another moment, his world felt completed for the first time in forever, soft lips were pushed on his, hands that were not his own tangled in his styled hair to pull him even closer. 

The movies and books Wooyoung used to watch and read always said that there were fireworks when you kissed the person you were meant to be with. But there were no fireworks, no explosions when Wooyoung held onto Yeosang as he kissed him, their breaths dancing on each other's cheeks as Yeosang's fingers dug painfully in his scalp.

Instead, he heard a symphony and a heartbeat. 

The next day, the main headline on the paper was unmistakable.

"University Playwriter and Director Met a Wonderful and Heatwrentching Surprise After Receiving a Standing Ovation."

And underneath, a picture of the both of them was plastered on the front page, Yeosang standing on his toes to reach Wooyoung on top of the stage, their lips locked together in what looked like pure passion and emotion.

The beginning of the end. 

Wooyoung graduated university a week later and was already receiving calls from all over the world about the play that he wrote. He was overjoyed and overwhelmed at the same time, there were big-shot directors from all over the world wanting to show his play on their stage.

What a dream come true.

But even then, he wanted to take the summer off and enjoy it before rushing out into the world once more. So he went back home, stayed with his mother, and helped out around the house when he could. He was beginning to write his next play, but it was hard to think of what to write next. He hadn't known it at the time, but when he wrote the play 'To You', was what he had named it, he had put his everything into it. All his emotions, his worries, his anger and sadness, everything had gone into it.

And now as he sat on his couch, the familiar fabric he knew so well since a child, he had nothing left to write about. 

Maybe it was the pressure of having to write something so amazing once more, or it was writers block that he couldn't seem to shake off. 

If anyone would have asked him if he saw himself where he was ten years ago, he would have laughed in their face and told them he was going to be a soccer star. But here he was, already have earned a name for himself with just one play he wrote and directed for his final project. 

"Jung Wooyoung, the young writer who stole the hearts of everyone who watched with just a simple song."

San had texted him two days later after the shows had ended, telling him that he had cried the entire time and would never forgive Wooyoung for writing something so heartbreaking. Wooyoung had laughed and shown his mother who also agreed with San and proceeded to throw her kitchen rag at him. 

But San's next text hit home in more ways than one.

The story is oddly familiar. It's about Yeosang isn't it?

Wooyoung didn't respond, instead, he threw his phone onto his bed once he arrived in his room and sat down on the wooden flooring. His room hadn't changed one bit, and for some reason, it left him rather melancholy. But there was no time to be sad, not when a certain man sat on top of his bed, scrolling through his phone like he always did. 

"How long have you been sitting there?" Wooyoung asked, not even shocked to see the older man there. 

"Too long, you forgot I was even in here," Yeosang responded with, leaning back to lay on his bed and turned on his side to face Wooyoung.

The position was oddly familiar. 

"I forget things all the time, too many concussions," Wooyoung mumbled, leaning his head back on the wall behind him.

"Yeah... I understand that" Yeosang heaved out a sigh and then shut off his phone and placed it down on the bed. "So, you're living the dream mister hotshot. How does it feel?"

Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh.

"Like magic honestly- I never thought that I could do something like this. I never thought I could create something that people could relate to- it's just a lot."

Yeosang smiled at him fondly, his blonde hair was long gone and was cut back and dyed black. It was shocking when Wooyoung first saw it, but no complaints came from his lips. 

"You underestimate yourself. I always knew from the moment I first met you that you were destined for greatness. I didn't know whether it would be with soccer or something else... I just knew."

They hadn't talked about it. Hadn't even acknowledged the kiss that happened between them at the theater. But it wasn't awkward or anything like that between them, it never was. They were just... living. 

"You always believed in me," Wooyoung chuckled once more, his gaze dipping down to the ground to hide the small blush on his cheeks. "I'm sorry I was such as ass to you when we were younger, especially after I hurt my knee. I was blinded and confused and lost, I didn't mean the things I said."

"I know Youngie," Yeosang answered immediately, his voice gentle and soothing. "We were young. That happened a long time ago. I was never mad at you for what you said because I understood you and where you were coming from."

"It was so long ago, I swear it was like yesterday we were just kids. Back when I was taller than you, like in eighth grade. San and I would always measure our heights at the pool and would fight each other after, and I remember you were always the smallest out of us back then and just stayed in the water and laughed."

Wooyoung smiled at the memory, taking him back to the summer of eighth grade year when they went to the pool all the time. That was a simpler time - an easier time. Being young and ignorant. 

He missed that.

But as soon as Wooyoung looked up to meet Yeosang's eyes, he couldn't help but frown. Yeosang looked confused like he was having trouble remembering what had happened.

"I'm sorry ... I, uh- don't really remember..." he mumbled out, his eyebrows pinching together as he looked like he was doing his best to try and force himself to remember. 

"You don't remember? How can you not remember?" Wooyoung nearly screeched, heartbroken over the fact that his best friend couldn't remember something so vital about their childhood. 

It wasn't even that serious until Yeosang seemed to grow upset, his lips pulling down in a frown as his body curled in on itself. It left Wooyoung feeling uneasy, noticing the way that Yeosang seemed much smaller and frail than he last remembered. He looked boney, not the built and muscled man he had left behind when he had gone to university. His cheekbones stuck out sharply, but in a different way than San's would. 

San's looked healthy. Yeosang's didn't.

He was pale and his clothes looked three sizes too big.

"I actually don't remember a lot of things these days," was the small reply Wooyoung received from the older.

"What do you mean?" Wooyoung asked, shifting to his knees as he waddled over to the older. 

At the bright age of twenty-four, the both of them still acted like they were twelve sometimes. They didn't care, especially not in a moment like this when Yeosang's body curled in even more on itself. 

"Youngie," Yeosang muttered out, his voice suddenly strained. "I don't know how to tell you this."

Wooyoung suddenly felt cold. 

"I've kept it a secret from you for so long- but I can't anymore- not when you can nearly see it for yourself."

"Yeosang, you're scaring me," Wooyoung scooted up the bed, reaching his hand out to grab Yeosang's boney fingers but the older pulled them away. "Yeosang- what's going on? Are you okay?"

Yeosang just sighed, rolling over onto his back and folded his hands on his stomach. He was shaking, fingers trembling and all Wooyoung wanted to do was hold him. 

He refused to look at Wooyoung, his gaze turned instead to where the window was.

"I'm sick," he said finally, the words kicking Wooyoung in the gut. "I've always been sick. I was born with a super rare disease and that's why I moved here in the first place. This city was the only city in the whole country that claimed to have a doctor that studied my specific illness."

Wooyoung sat back on his heels, his eyes wide. 

"I was told that I would live a pretty normal life, I wouldn't need to be hospitalized or anything like that. But I was also told from a young age that I wouldn't live very long."

Yeosang still wasn't looking at him, and Wooyoung was waiting desperately for the joke to end. He was waiting for Yeosang to crack a smile and tell him that he was just messing with him. 

"All the doctors could do was give me medication and run tests and studies, my disease has no cure or anything like that so I just became a test subject for them," Yeosang's words were cold and shaky, his hands trembling even more. "That's why I was so small and little as a kid, because of all the testing treatments and medication."

Wooyoung was stunned cold. His limbs felt like stone, unmoving. 

"I had learned from a young age... that I would not live for very long. That's why I tried to be on my own. I learned that it would be painful to leave someone behind, not only for me but even more so for them. That's why I constantly refused your friendship all those years when we were younger- because I knew that I would grow too attached to you and wouldn't be able to let you go. I wouldn't be able to separate myself from you when it got to the point where I needed to because I wouldn't be able to be your side when you needed me most..." Yeosang's voice cracked at the end, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them once more. 

"Death had never really scared me before I met you. Death was something that was just going to happen, I was conditioned to accept it because I was so young. The pills, the doctor visits, the hospital - that was my life, it was what I was used to and had accepted. I would watch the other kids around me- I would be jealous because they would get to grow up and I wouldn't. But I wasn't ... upset," Yeosang finally turned his head to look at Wooyoung, the younger between the two was still frozen in his place. "Until you stopped me in the hallway and demanded that we walked home together. That was the day that I began to be scared to die."

"Sangie..." His name tumbled from his lips, not even realizing that it had happened until Yeosang's hand came up and caressed his cheek gently.

"I kept it a secret from you because after I had you, I couldn't lose you. You were my best friend- you made me the center of your life. For the first time in forever, I was finally the center of something happy and meaningful rather than dark and gloomy. You showed me that life truly is beautiful. You taught me to love it and enjoy it. You were so animated when we were young, always telling me about your soccer practices and your dreams and inspirations..." Yeosang's expression had brightened significantly, but Wooyoung couldn't find it in himself to smile. "You taught me to dream. You taught me that even if I wasn't going to be here for long, I could still have dreams. There might not have been many things I could do, but that never stopped me from dreaming." 

"But even then- I was a selfish person. I should've let you go. I tried to, so many times. That's why I stopped talking to you after you left for university, I thought that maybe I could finally protect you- but even then I was still too selfish and I couldn't stay away..." Yeosang's hand on his cheek pulled back, and Wooyoung reached out and grabbed it, and held it in his own.

When had his hands gotten this cold?

"I stopped treatment in high school because I knew that it wasn't helping me. I decided then that I would just live out my dreams like a normal person- or at least try and be normal. Those were the best years of my life, pretending to be something I wasn't. I didn't have the constant fear in the back of my mind that I was going to die soon. Instead, I thought of my future," Yeosang squeezed his hand gently, a small smile on his lips. "I thought about what it would be like to go to university, or travel the world... or even get married and live out my life like that."

"I thought you didn't believe in love..." Wooyoung found the strength to say, his own hands trembling from the strain that was put on his body.

Yeosang just looked at him, his eyes turning sad and his lips pressing together.

"I probably did say that at some point didn't I? That was probably when I realized that no matter how much I pretended I was okay, I would never truly get to experience the things that most people got to. Everyone wants to love and be loved," he answered, and then he sighed sadly. "Even me."

Wooyoung felt his bottom lip tremble, his head starting to hurt painfully. He could feel a thick lump settling in his throat, finding it difficult to swallow. It was almost hard to breathe, his heart felt like it was ripping in half right in his chest. 

"H-How long?" The question Wooyoung asked quietly wasn't even something he wanted an answer to. He didn't know why he asked it in the first place, he already knew he couldn't bear to handle the answer.

There was a little squeeze on his hand, the look in Yeosang's eye already confirmed what Wooyoung feared most.

"The doctors told me that once I started to forget things, it would happen very quickly. I wasn't supposed to make it this long, that's why I never went to university," was the answer that followed. "I probably won't be here at the end of the summer."

That was news Wooyoung never wanted to have heard in his life. He really couldn't breathe at that moment, his vision blurry as his whole body trembled violently. He couldn't accept it. There was no way. The man in front of him, the man he had grown up with, would probably not even make it past summer.

There was no way.

"I know that this is ... that it's sudden," Yeosang's voice was like an echo, so far away. "And I am so, so, sorry for everything. I wanted to protect you from this... but I was too selfish. I understand if you would rather walk away from this and pretend it never happened. If that is what you wish, then the past eighteen years of our lives never happened."

Wooyoung's mind shifted to what San had told him that one summer night before he left for college. The upset look in the older man's eye made perfect sense now. San had said he found out by accident and had kept it a secret for all these years. Wooyoung wasn't sure whether he was downright angry at San for not telling him or if he was thankful. 

The reality of it would have been that Wooyoung would've distanced himself if he had known. He was never good with this sort of thing and no matter how close he was to Yeosang- it would have been subconscious. But now, years down the road when they were all grown up- life waiting for Wooyoung with open arms - he couldn't even bear to think he could separate himself from Yeosang. 

"Are you- are you scared?" Wooyoung asked, his voice trembling more than he wanted it to. 

"Petrified." 

"Me too," the words dripped from his lips, the fear and panic evident over his facial expressions. "I'm so- Yeosang I don't even - I can't even process any of this right now. I'm so scared- I can't even feel my heart right now it's beating so fast- How am I supposed to live without ..." The words seemed so wrong to even say out loud. "Without you...?"

The words were foreign, ones straight out of a never-ending nightmare. 

"You can... you can go then," Yeosang's voice cracked, pulling his hand out from Wooyoung's grip. "I won't force you to go through it more than you already have."

"How could you..." and Wooyoung felt his eyes water even more, but the tears refused to fall because he was in a state of utter disbelief. The pain that was dripping from his voice was enough to make Yeosang flinch, the older man trying to move away. "How could you even think that after all we've been through... all these years... that I could just pretend they never happened? How could you expect me to leave you when-"

And he couldn't even finish, the words would no longer come out of his mouth. His throat tightened up, the lump making it impossible to speak. All he could do was stare at the retreating man, never having seen him so vulnerable in his life. That almost hurt more than the news that Yeosang had a terminal illness. 

"I can't leave you," he was able to force out after a while, swallowing thickly the mucus that was building up in his nose from holding back a sob for so long. "I won't."

And maybe Yeosang didn't believe him at that moment, but his body seemed to relax a little, his eyes welling up with big tears that spilled down his cheeks. Wooyoung had never seen Yeosang cry before, not like this. He had seen him cry when he fell off his bike and scrape his knee, or when he fell from the tree - but not like this.

So he did the only thing he could think of. Wooyoung climbed up onto his bed, the small twin was not even close to big enough for both grown men but Wooyoung made it work. He held Yeosang's shaking body in his arms, caging the older and now smaller man in his arms, and even wrapped his legs around him to help ground him. It took a few moments, but Yeosang's arms made their way around Wooyoung's neck, holding him so close.

There was no space between them, the heat radiating off them was almost suffocating. But Wooyoung didn't care. Not when Yeosang was crying against his chest, not when the most important thing in the world to him was about to disappear. 

If Wooyoung would have known that the night he held Yeosang close to him like that, would've been the last normal night for them, then he would've held onto the older man for so much longer. He would've never have let go once Yeosang was fast asleep, his tears dried against his skin and Wooyoung's shirt. In the late early morning hours of the day, Wooyoung would've taken every second to look over the man before him and memorize every little detail he could.

For he had no idea just how fast things could change overnight.

Wooyoung never did learn exactly what disease Yeosang had, never really asked, and wasn't sure he really wanted to know. But what he did know was that it was a miracle Yeosang had lived as long as he had with it. He had talked to Yeosang's mother, his own second mother, about it, and she said that it was very rare but most people died when they were teenagers. It was a lung condition, some sort of mucus-like thing wrapping around the lungs and heart and squeezing it.

Yeosang was a fighter. He was a dreamer. That's why he was still alive with it at the bright and young age of twenty-four.

But just like Yeosang had told him that one night, it was happening fast. It happened quicker than Wooyoung could keep up with. It seemed that each day that passed, Yeosang would forget more and more. It started with the fine details, he couldn't remember old conversations that happened or even smaller events. 

But as the summer progressed, the heat of the day taking over, Yeosang would forget whole years. He couldn't remember much of his childhood, didn't even recognize his old stuffed elephant he had dragged around everywhere. They weren't sure why he was losing his memories, and Wooyoung did countless hours of research trying to figure out why this was happening and how he could stop it. But no matter what he did or where he looked, he came away with one hard pill to swallow.

Terminal. 

No cure.

Wooyoung decided to spend the entire summer in his hometown, his plans to travel around the world flew out the window instantly. He stayed with Yeosang as much as he could, spending his days with him walking around down as they used to ever since they were young. They went to the pool, went to bars, got ice cream, and laid in the fields by the parks and watched the clouds go by.

There was a week during early July that Yeosang even forgot he was sick. That was the hardest week for Wooyoung because Yeosang and he had driven up to that one hill, once again with ice cream cones in their hands, and talked about all the things Yeosang planned to do with his future.

"I wrote them down so I wouldn't forget this time, or even change my mind," Yeosang had told him, bringing out a crumbled-up piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans. Wooyoung just watched him, keeping a practiced smile on his face. 

Yeosang cleared his throat, setting the cone down and holding the piece of paper in both hands. 

"Firstly, I want to become a doctor, some sort of surgeon. I want to save people's lives- help make sure they can live the best life they can. There is too much beauty in this world to miss. After that, I want to go and travel the world, want to go see Paris and the pyramids. I want to travel to Greece and America, maybe even stay a week in Antarctica for the hell of it."

"You've always wanted to travel," Wooyoung muttered under his breath, his legs brushing up against Yeosang's.

"I have? It makes sense to me. You see culture- how different people around the world make beautiful things. They all are so beautiful-  I want to learn from them," Yeosang's eyes were twinkling. 

It could have been the sunset, the last bit of the day's sun rays making his eyes sparkle like that. But in reality, it was just the way Yeosang was thinking about the things he wanted to see and do in life that made him sparkle. 

"And then I want to settle down. I want to find someone- love them as much as they love me. I want to have a family, grow old and then sit on a porch swing on a ranch while we read classic stories to each other every sunrise. I want to see my family grow up and give them advice on life, I just want to share," Wooyoung could honestly listen to older talk all day long. And that's what he did. 

"You've got your whole life planned out, better get started soon," Wooyoung told him, a small smile on his lips as his eyes ghosted over the writing on the paper Yeosang had dropped to his lap.

"Youngie, we are only sixteen, no need to rush. We have our whole lives ahead of us, we'll go to university first and then work our way up from there."

"Sixteen," Wooyoung mouthed the word, his eyes closing shut for a moment as he clenched his jaw. 

He remembered when they were sixteen, eight whole years ago. 

He doubted Yeosang even remembered his sixteen birthday when Wooyoung surprised him with amusement park tickets.

They sat there in silence, watching the sunset behind the horizon line. It was peaceful for once, and Wooyoung closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the ledge of Yeosang's truck. There was a slight breeze, the one that made Wooyoung fall in love with summer. He wished it was always like this. He wished that even he too could pretend that everything was fine. 

He too wished he couldn't remember. 

"Hyung, let's say that you were... sick, like with some terminal illness," Wooyoung found himself saying, eyes still close as he felt Yeosang shift beside him. "Like pretend for a moment that you were only going to live for another few years. What would you do?"

Yeosang was quiet, probably pondering about it. Wooyoung then felt the familiar feeling of Yeosang's hand on him.

"Well, I would probably be really fucking depressed about it. Like- I wouldn't be able to do really anything. I would probably hyper fixate on those around me and become jealous of them because they would get to live out my dreams," there was a sigh that came from Yeosang and Wooyoung thought that was going to be the end of that conversation, but then Yeosang shifted once more and continued.

"But I think at the end of the day, I would only dream more. I would daydream about all the things I wanted to do. I would read- watch as many movies and documentaries as I could so it's like I was there and experiencing it first hand. I would do my best to not let it get to me. I believe you only get one life- and if mine was going to be cut short- I have to make the most of it right?" Wooyoung opened his eyes, turning to look over at his best friend that was looking back at him. "I would want to do what makes me happy. I would want to be with people that make me happy. Maybe that would be selfish but, I would want to see them smile."

"You always make me smile," Wooyoung said softly, his lips curving upwards despite the tight coil in his stomach. 

"But I couldn't imagine that- it's so hard to even think about. I am just so glad that I'm not terminally ill- I would probably cry for days on end," Yeosang's laughter rang out into the evening air, their ice cream cones once again, forgotten to the heat off the summer night. 

"Right," Wooyoung mumbled once more, feeling the thick lump in his throat. "Thank goodness."

In order to not break down, Wooyoung pulled out his phone and typed away furiously, Yeosang watching over his shoulder. It took a few seconds to load, but as soon as it did, Wooyoung turned up the volume and set his phone down on the bed of the truck, and looked up at the sky.

I used to hear a simple song. 

That was until you came along.

"Oh- this is a good song," Yeosang's eyes sparkled again, looking down at Wooyoung's phone. "What song is that?"

Wooyoung's heart sunk. It hurt more than it should've.

"It's our... it's our song," he tried not to sound as hurt as he was. It wasn't Yeosang's fault that he couldn't remember, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "You know the one that I showed you freshman year of high school? We listened to it during our music class and decided it was going to be our song..."

Yeosang's eyebrows pinched together, clearly thinking about it. 

"Oh! I remember now!" And Wooyoung wasn't sure if Yeosang actually remembered it or not or if it was just because he had heard the song so many times already that the lyrics just came to him naturally. 

"You took my broken melody," Yeosang sang out, using his ice cream cone as a microphone. "And now I hear a symphony."

If it was a little out of tune, Wooyoung didn't care. He just stared at his friend, not able to suppress the frown that tugged on his lips. He felt his eyes sting, the music hurting now more than it ever did. What once used to be a beautiful song- their song for so many years - now only brought the reality of life in crashing waves.

Even if Yeosang was sick, even if he forgot he was, he was still so beautiful. His skin glowing and nearly sparkling in the rays, face animated and joyful as he sang along to the song.

Wooyoung wanted to cry.

As the weeks went by, things only got worse and worse. Yeosang's physical health was getting to a point where he was struggling to breathe and couldn't leave the bed. He had a little oxygen tank next to his bed, to help him get through the night. By the time August rolled around, Wooyoung knew they were getting close.

He still hadn't accepted it. He couldn't. 

If he had only been there for the past four years- then maybe he would've had time to mentally prepare himself for it. If he had pressed more on why Yeosang wasn't going to go to university then he too would've pushed his own education off just to stay with him.

If only he had ... 

It had happened too fast. One day Yeosang was fine, and then the next he wasn't. Wooyoung couldn't handle it. He couldn't bear to see him like that. Pale and so thin, already had lost most of his muscle mass. Wooyoung could only look at him, standing in the doorway of his room.

In hindsight, the hints were there all his life. The riddles, the secrets, the sudden disappearances- they were all there. Yeosang was basically telling him without telling him. He was kicking himself for not noticing. 

How could he not have noticed? Was he so absorbed in himself that he just didn't notice? He really was the selfish one.

If anything the summer had taught him- was that he truly was the selfish one. Always had been.

It was the 28th of August.

Wooyoung woke up that day with a terrible feeling in his stomach. Yeosang's mom had the same look on her face when she answered the door, they both just knew. 

"Alright mister, it's time to get up," Wooyoung pushed his arms under Yeosang's limp back, pushing the covers back and pulling the older man into a bridal position in his arms. It was late in the afternoon, the skies were dark with clouds. They had let Yeosang sleep in because he had trouble sleeping the past few days, but with the way that Yeosang had been, they knew it was getting very close. 

"Don't wanna," Yeosang mumbled, his head resting against Wooyoung's chest as the younger easily carried him down the stairs, the stuffed elephant placed on Yeosang's lap. 

"I know but, you gotta. Some fresh air will do you good."

Wooyoung took them outside, the front door opening and closing shut. He walked out onto the porch, sitting them both down on the stairs, and held Yeosang in his lap.

The older was nearly asleep once again, snuggling into the warmth that Wooyoung was providing. It was cooler that day, and Yeosang's small body couldn't retain much heat anymore.

"How are you feeling today?" Wooyoung asked softly, cradling the other in his lap.

"Good," Yeosang answered, his words slightly slurred. "I feel good."

"I'm glad to hear that," and he truthfully was. The past few days if not weeks had been absolutely terrible. He had been coughing nonstop, all day and all throughout the night. Wooyoung would hold him when he could- but some nights were too much for him to handle. "It's the 28th today, it's almost September already."

"Already? It was just February yesterday," Yeosang seemed to perk up a little but still didn't open his eyes. His nose was pressed against Wooyoung's neck, the steady feeling of his breath was comforting. 

"Feels like it doesn't it? Time flies when you're having fun."

Fun.

"I don't really remember-"

"I know you don't, but that's what I'm here for. To help you remember."

Yeosang reached his hand up, patting Wooyoung's chest gently in gratitude.

"You're too kind," he whispered gently. "What's your name?"

Wooyoung sucked in a breath. His heart clenching painfully, biting into his bottom lip before it started to quiver. He had forgotten his name a long time ago. 

"My name is Wooyoung."

Yeosang seemed to smile at that, the name triggering something in his mind.

"I used to know a Wooyoung a long time ago," he smiled widely, nuzzling his nose further into Wooyoung's neck. "He was my best friend in the whole world. He was the reason I learned to dream again."

"Oh really?" Wooyoung's voice cracked, subconsciously squeezing Yeosang's body closer to his. 

"Yes, he taught me that life was worth living, even if it was short. I miss him so much," Yeosang pouted, shivering violently for a few moments.

"Where is he?"

"He's at university right now, he's somewhere far, far away. I heard that he's writing a play or something like that- I just know it will be amazing," Yeosang talked with so much admiration that Wooyoung couldn't help that his fingers trembled as they clutched around Yeosang's white shirt. 

"I wish I could see him again," he sighed then, shifting in Wooyoung's hold. 

"You will, I promise. He missed you so much too."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Yeosang hummed, and his body started to shake again. "You know, I loved him. Wooyoung, I loved him. From the moment I saw him, I loved him."

Wooyoung's heart stopped.

"I never got to tell him," Yeosang's voice sounded strained, his hand clutching onto Wooyoung's shirt tightly. "I never got to tell him that I loved him. I never even got to see him play soccer again. I loved to watch him play- it was my favorite thing."

Wooyoung felt his whole body go weak, his lips trembling as he tried to hold back the cries that burned the back of his throat. He pressed his lips to the top of Yeosang's head, the softness of his black hair tickling his nose.

"He- he knows," Wooyoung forced out, his voice cracking. "He knows. And he loves you just as much as you love him."

"Will you tell him for me?" It was like Yeosang hadn't even heard him, and all Wooyoung could do was just nod blindly as the tears blurred his vision. "Tell Wooyoung that I loved him."

"I-I will. I promise."

They sat like that, on the front porch of Yeosang's house. Wooyoung held him close to his chest, knowing that Yeosang could feel his heartbeat against his arm. It was silent except for the wind that blew gently, and Wooyoung moved a chunk of Yeosang's hair out of his eyes and pushed it behind his ear. 

The older started shaking, even more, his chest rising and then falling with what looked like a bit of difficulty. But after a few moments, it went back to normal and the vice grip that Yeosang had on Wooyoung's arm lessened. 

The time was close. 

Wooyoung reaching into his pocket but made sure to hold Yeosang strongly in his arms. Once he had his phone in his hand, he desperately dialed the number of the person who was waiting for this specific call.

"Sannie... San- please um," Wooyoung had to stop to clear his throat. "It's happening, you need to come now."

The older man had been warned that Yeosang would probably not make it much longer a few days prior. He was back in his hometown too on break from soccer, and he knew that once he had received the phone call from Wooyoung, that it would mean it was time for the end. He wanted to be there when it happened. It was right that he was there too, being the only other friend that Yeosang was close to. 

"Who is ... San?" Yeosang mumbled after a little bit when Wooyoung hung up the phone.

"He's ... San is someone very special to you. He was the first friend you ever had- the first person that could get close to you. He and Wooyoung would take you places, you were the trio of friends that everyone wished they could have," Wooyoung spoke softly to him, resting his cheek on the top of Yeosang's head.

"He sounds lovely."

"He is."

"And he's coming to see me? Why?"

Wooyoung clenched his teeth together nearly to a breaking point.

"He's coming to say goodbye."

"Why goodbye?"

If Wooyoung's heart could break any more than it already had, it would've shattered once again.

"Because someone very dear to us is leaving- but only for a short while. We'll see him again very soon."

"Where's he going?" Yeosang's voice sounded scratchy and every time he swallowed, he seemed to wince in pain. 

Wooyoung bit his lip. "Somewhere where he won't be in pain anymore. Somewhere he can dream forever and ever."

There was thunder in the distance and it made Wooyoung shudder, the dark clouds above him mocking him.

Yeosang hummed softly, his eyes fluttering open for just a moment, and then closing once more. He grabbed onto Wooyoung's hand, and gingerly held it in his own. 

"He's lucky. I want to be able to dream forever. Can I go where he's going?"

Wooyoung couldn't hold back the sob that peaked in his throat, it was too painful. He sounded like his heart was ripped right out from his chest, the pained noise that leaked from his lips was what caused the tears to finally fall from his eyes. 

"Don't cry," he heard Yeosang whisper to him. "You shouldn't cry."

"You can't say that t-to me," Wooyoung argued, stuffing his face into the top of Yeosang's head to try and muffle the cries that refused to stop.

"Wooyoung would tell you to not cry. He would say that there were better things to look forward to, so you shouldn't be sad."

He could only hold Yeosang close to him, his body shaking almost as much as the older one's was. He was breaking apart and wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on, he couldn't breathe. 

Why did life have to be so unfair? Why did it have to take Yeosang from him? Yeosang was the purest and sweetest person that had ever walked the earth. He didn't deserve this. Yeosang had dreams, he had wishes and wants. Yeosang never got to finish any of them, and it wasn't fair. 

Wooyoung couldn't bear to think back on their life. He couldn't bear to think about the first time he had laid eyes on the older when he moved in next door. He couldn't bear to remember that he hated him before he fell in love with him. He couldn't bring himself to think about how Yeosang had always been there every step of the way, stuck to his side like Wooyoung was honey and Yeosang was the bee.

"I used to hear a simple song."

Wooyoung's eyes shot open, his lips parting. 

"That was until you came along."

Yeosang's voice was barely singing, almost more like a whisper. But it was there, the soft sound was there. He was trying, and it made Wooyoung's chest flutter. 

"Now in its place is something new," his eyes opened again, his head tipping up to peer into Wooyoung's wide and wet eyes for the first time that day. "I hear it when I look at you."

Yeosang's voice gave out after that, but the smile that followed was blinding. His beautiful lips stretched wide over his teeth, eyes sparkling like nothing was wrong with the world.

"It was our song," he whispered, nearly giddy. "I think I'm going crazy because you look just like him."

And Yeosang reached his hand up, his cold and boney fingers resting against Wooyoung's cheek. His touch was searing hot- but Wooyoung would never dare to move away.

"Youngie, so beautiful." He whispered once more, his smile returning more normal and gentle. "He was what made life beautiful. He was my symphony."

Instead of breaking down once more, which surprised him still in his later days, Wooyoung could only chuckle, tears leaking from his eyes and down his cheeks, dripping onto Yeosang's chest. He leaned forward, no words came to mind and pressed his lips against Yeosang's forehead as gently as he could afraid that he was going to break him. 

He regretted not kissing Yeosang more. His skin was so soft and smooth, the man was an absolute work of art. He would never forgive himself for being such a coward and taking so long to figure out that he had loved him. 

He stayed like that, his lips pressed to the man's forehead trying to pour as much love and comfort into the other man as he held him until Yeosang started to shiver again. 

"It's...," Yeosang started, his hand falling down to his lap where his stuffed elephant was. "It's going to rain."

Wooyoung laughed again because of course, Yeosang could still tell when it was going to rain. 

And just as he said that the first raindrop hit Wooyoung's cheek and another clap of thunder sounded in the near distance. The first of many.

You took my broken melody.

And now, I hear a symphony.

Yeosang held his elephant close to him, head falling back against Wooyoung's shoulder, resting peacefully as the rain fell against their faces.

He was smiling.

"We were a beautiful song."

As Wooyoung watched the play before him, he felt his chest tighten. It was like he was reliving his life right before his eyes. From his childhood, starting from the day he entered preschool and had met San up until his present day. It was weird above all else, he hadn't ever been this drawn it.

Maybe it was because of the actors before him, some of the best in the world. Seonghwa had the lead male role, playing the part perfectly with the right amount of emotion and humor to his character. The other actor was doing just as well and so were the rest of the cast, it truly was a gift to be able to see it come together so wonderfully.

For the first time in a long time, he felt young again. Wooyoung felt his heart racing with excitement, watching the characters grow up and live through their lives. It was a coming-of-age story, Wooyoung had written about the wonders and the pains that came with growing up. He could tell the Hongjoong was smiling beside him, occasionally glancing over to see his younger friend enjoying it.

Of course, Wooyoung already knew how the play was going to end. He had written it. He knew of the heartbreak that was to come when the main character found out by accident that the other lead role had fallen ill with something that would not be cured. He knew that the main character would struggle through the knowledge, crying behind closed doors so that the other would not see how upset they were. 

Wooyoung felt it personally. He felt every single bit of it. 

He had not been able to watch the play or read anything about it for so long. Three years had passed to the day, and it was like each day was a reminder of what he had lost.

Who he had lost. 

The play was a total of two hours with one intermission. And at the bright age of twenty-seven, Wooyoung felt like he was brought back to when he was sixteen, riding the farris wheel with Yeosang for his birthday. Those were simpler times, back when the world had color and music. 

As he watched the play, seeing hands held in hands, Wooyoung thought back to what Yeosang's hand felt like in his. He tried not to remember the cold and boney hand he once held, but the strong and warm hand, the one that squeezed his comfortingly. 

It made him smile. He felt warm. 

He had never imagined he would be here. He was supposed to be a soccer player. He was supposed to be shining under the lights of the stadium as he scored a goal for his team, winning national championships just like he did when he was young. But here he was, instead, shining under the lights of a theater, witnessing his life pass before his very eyes. 

And it was in that very moment when the lights dimmed and all the other characters ran off stage and the only person left was Seonghwa, standing right in the middle with one single spotlight on him, everything else dark, that the realization of what the play was truly about hit him full force.

"I used to hear a simple song..." 

His voice was clear and sharp. There was hurt and pain laced in with it, his eyes nearly watery as he sang out the song that made Wooyoung's chest clench tightly. It was the only thing to be heard out in the whole theater, the part in the story where the main character figured out he was madly in love with his best friend who was laying sick and dying in bed.

"That was until you came along..."

Wooyoung's lips parted, not able to tear his eyes away from the dark stage in front of him. 

"Now in its place is something new," Seonghwa sang acapella from where he stood completely still, looking out into the audience like he was alone, singing by himself. "I hear it when I look at you."

And as soon as he finished that line, the lights kicked back on, the stage behind him exploding in color. The live band below the stage was brought to life, the piano and other instruments blaring in a loud volume. Wooyoung felt like he had been punched back against his seat, his eyes widening. 

Wooyoung had been asked many times if he would write another play or even direct one. He had been asked so many questions that he just hadn't been able to answer. Interview after interview, forced smile after forced smile, Wooyoung finally was able to come to terms with the fact that he would never be able to write another play. Nothing would ever top this one, there was no more story left. 

What made this story so raw and wonderful was that it showed the reality of life. It didn't just show the wonders of the world, it showed all the bad things that happened. But it showed it in a beautiful way. Wooyoung had no doubt that if Yeosang was still around, he would criticize the play and say that it had no business being that sad. He would say that it was unfair that they never lived happily ever after and that the character died right as they realized they were in love. Yeosang would probably cry at it, a box of tissues resting in his lap if he watched it, saying that it wasn't fair that the main character ended up alone.

But then at the end, Yeosang would have turned to Wooyoung and told him that the play was beautiful. The colors, the stories, the experiences - they were all beautiful. Beauty was pain, and so was love.

"With simple song, I wanted more. Perfection is so quick to bore," Seonghwa's strong and powerful voice brought him back, the lights blinding. He still was the only one on stage, a solo song. "You are my beautiful, by far. Our flaws are who we really are."

Wooyoung had to reach over and grab onto Hongjoong's arm, grounding him in his seat. The music around him was once again bringing him to tears, his eyes widening in realization. 

Jongho had told him he had written the play about Yeosang. Back when they were still in university, back when Wooyoung hadn't accepted that he had fallen in love. He had always thought that the story he had written was about his childhood best friend. 

"You took my broken melody," Seonghwa raised his arms up, his eyes closing as tears ran down his cheeks, singing his heart out. "And now, I hear a symphony."

Their song. The song that Wooyoung hadn't been able to listen to for so long. 

If he had looked down at his phone, he knew he would see the date of August 28th. 

Hongjoong grabbed his hand, already knowing what was going on inside Wooyoung's head. It was better for him now, he didn't cry like he used to. But no amount of time - Wooyoung knew- would ever be enough to fully recover from it.

Because Yeosang was his soulmate. 

The music cut off again, the stage going dark. Once again only Seonghwa's body was left in the light, his arm reaching out into the black sea of nothing. It was dead quiet, no one dared to make a sound.

"And now I hear," he sang out quietly, more tears running down his cheeks. "A symphony."

Wooyoung had mouthed the last word, leaning forward in his seat just a little. He hadn't realized he too had been crying. The tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto his suit. His vision was blurry and he too wanted to reach out in front of him because all he could see, was someone sitting at the edge of the stage, hair as black as the night and a smile so beautiful that it was blinding. 

The man wasn't looking at Wooyoung, he had his eyes closed and was leaning back on his hands. Cheeks rosy just how Wooyoung remembered them, his body looking strong and healthy. 

Wooyoung's lips parted once more, his eyes watering to where all the lights blending together. 

Jongho had been wrong. He had not written the play about Yeosang. 

The man finally opened his eyes, the dark irises piercing Wooyoung's gaze. It was one look, for a fraction of a second. But he smiled, something Wooyoung thought he would never get to see again in his life.

If love could take a physical object, it would have been Yeosang's smile. 

And then he was gone, the music stopped and all the lights went dark. 

Wooyoung was frozen, his heart thumping against his chest because for the first time in three years, he felt at peace. 

He had realized in that moment, that the play he had written was his life. He always thought it was something original, something he had come up with because he was overloaded with caffeine at four in the morning. But no, this was his story. This was his life. The reason he felt so connected to the story was that he watched himself grow up every single time. 

He might have written the play to Yeosang. Dedication of his love, so he would never forget.

But the play was not about the older man.

When the lights turned on for the intermission, Wooyoung was still starstruck. Hongjoong was patient beside him, not saying anything, just giving him a gentle hand squeeze.

He knew. 

Wooyoung had written the play about himself. Wooyoung was the main character. He was the one that got to live on. He was the one that got to complete his dreams. And Yeosang was the music in the background. 

Yeosang was his symphony.