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There’s a lot of words Min-Gi Park can use to describe himself as — ambitious, stubborn (at times), reserved — but, brave has never really been on that list of words. He never considered himself to be a brave person, and he was okay with that, okay with working at Dumpty’s for the summer and then going to study something at uni he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to.
That was until he chased after his childhood best friend and jumped into a wormhole, got stuck on a magical train, met a talking bell, got chased and almost killed by lots of… creatures. He still didn’t think he was brave, but it did make him want to take a step in the direction he always wanted to.
And when both Ryan and him landed outside of Dumpty’s just a few days after they vanished, — and being on the train, it felt longer, but he assumes time went by differently there, fucked up train magic, really — when they walked over to his house while trying to think of some reason why they were gone for almost a week, he felt lost, in some way, but also like some piece of the puzzle had come back into place. It was a weird feeling.
His parents didn’t say much when they opened the door to find him standing outside of it. They enveloped him in a hug filled with tears of relief, took both Ryan and Min inside and made sure they were both okay, made scallion pancakes even though it was almost one in the morning.
When he had to break the news that he wasn’t going to uni, that he was going to take the biggest risk of his life, go on a road trip across Canada to perform, to make music, he didn’t feel brave. He almost felt the complete opposite, if he’s being honest. The way his parents’ eyebrows furrowed in unison, when they said softly, Are you sure? It’s a big risk, going out there. It might not be the best option for you, he felt like reverting back to all of it, telling them they were probably right and reverting back to a life before the train, where he would be preparing to study finance at some university he already forgot the name of.
But, as he turned his head, looked over at Ryan’s reassuring — and slightly nervous — smile that was present on his face, he didn’t. And he wouldn’t have, not after everything they went though.
. . .
They went through a lot. Min-Gi was sure he’d die of a panic attack before playing at their first show, but he didn’t. He was nervous, about the people, about playing with Ryan in front of a whole venue of people who didn’t know them personally, but, surprisingly, he was also comfortable. Ryan was there, hand on his shoulder, calloused but still soft, still warm, and he figured he could do this for the rest of his life. That was the plan.
And, in every place they stopped at, he made sure there was enough to do, enough sights that they saw. Partly because, he wasn’t sure they’d spend a lot of time in any of those places again — at least, not enough to do the more tourist-like things — and, mostly, because he didn’t want to spend most of their time in their disgusting motel rooms, maybe because the rooms are a gross and uncomfortable place to stay in for a long amount of time — that’s what he told himself back then, anyways — but, he knows the real reason was because he didn’t want enough time to reflect on his feelings. He guesses he did anyways, but at least it wasn’t in a dirty motel room.
He always found new things to admire about Ryan. Unlike himself, Ryan was brave, bold, full of magical thoughts and ideas. It’s something he should probably envy, since he can’t help but want to acquire those traits, but he finds himself falling for them instead. When he points at a painting and spews out an interpretation that’s witty and stupid but yet somehow makes sense, how he could go on and on about dumb facts he knows about various aquatic animals, how he can effortlessly play in front of a crowd without having a nervous and sweaty moment beforehand. It’s enviable while also being magical, admirable, and overall beautiful. He notices a lot of things about Ryan tend to be.
It’s not a new sentiment when Min intertwines their hands together as they watch the Northern Lights shine in the sky above them. And, Min had always liked art, always liked how the beauty of nature tied into it — hence the reason why he wanted to see the Northern Lights in the first place — but he realizes in that moment that something about the way their hands danced while they met each other before they stopped, ended their dance in the warmth of their hands combined, was also art; art made for the both of them and no one else. It might’ve been more beautiful than the art that had been above his head during that very moment, and it probably was, it was more beautiful, more magical. Yet, he still made himself let go, let his hand remember what the cold felt like. Maybe because it was overwhelming, maybe because he knew the sentiment — despite it not being an entirely new one — still held the words and the feelings that he was way too nervous to let Ryan know about.
He couldn’t help himself, though, not even when he’s in a room full of nature, the world’s art, he couldn’t help but turn his head to look at the boy who was walking ahead of him, touching the delicate leaves with his soft yet calloused fingertips, sniffing the leaves for who the hell knows why, and he couldn’t help capturing it. Min-Gi from that moment in time would’ve thrown up had someone told him sometime in the future Ryan would be aware of the fact that he had (not so) sneakily taken pictures of him — but, present Min-Gi doesn’t mind anymore, because now they’re placed inside of him and Ryan’s shared scrapbook, and it’s magical. He finds that a lot of things involving Ryan always are.
There was magic just about everywhere when Ryan was around, in the lingering touches, in the stares that Min felt as he was driving back to their dirty motel room after a show — and, back then, it made him more nervous, but now when it happens, he feels content. It’s hard for him to revert back to those feelings he had before, the times when he was scared to say anything, scared to show his feelings, because he knows now that there wasn’t any reason to hide it.
And sometimes, when they enter Ryan’s van — that’s now not only covered in bumper stickers on the outside, but on the inside, is decorated with a few polaroid photos of just the two of them, smiling, sending fond glances the other’s way — he sees the concierge bell sitting idly on the dashboard, and a part of him remembers Kez, while another part of him remembers that night in the motel. When Ryan said he liked knowing that Min was okay, and when Min definitely got the urge to kiss him, but instead engulfed him in a warm hug. When he woke up the next morning with Ryan on his chest and decided that it would be okay if he stayed like that for a little longer. That was a time when he felt slightly guilty about doing so, about letting his feelings get the best of him. Now, he does it all the time, because they have all the time in the world to do so, and he’s not sure he ever wants to be without the magic that Ryan envelopes him in practically every single day.
Then, he took Ryan ice skating, and he’s not sure there was one single reason for why he chose to do so. It was the middle of summer, and Min didn’t really like ice skating when he went with his dad’s boss — maybe it was because it took time away from his and Ryan’s music practice, now that he really thinks back to it — but, he took him anyway, wore mittens and three layers and helped him up with his gloved hands. He let go but then Ryan said those words that caught him off guard, made his cheeks flush red: The safest place I can be is right here next to you. And, so, he held his hand the rest of the way, let go again, and he said it again, and his cheeks did the same thing. Something inside of him felt ready to implode, the fact that Ryan was being bold like he always was and Min was being a mess of stutters and unfinished sentences. Then, he didn’t feel brave, either.
He’s not sure how he feels now. He’s living in an apartment with the person he’s known for his entire life, his best friend, his boyfriend. He’s not sure brave is the right word to describe how he feels, and even though he was the one who kissed him, he’s the one who said the words first, he still doesn’t think he’s all that brave. He feels… content, like his life has been black and white for a while until it was suddenly in screaming color, like his life had been sprinkled in magic stardust.
On their nineteenth birthday, Min’s parents call. They wish both him and Ryan a happy birthday, say that they miss our son and future son-in-law! And Min can’t help that his cheeks flush at the thought of it, that he stutters before quickly saying goodbye and hoping Ryan wasn’t listening hard enough to where he’s going to ask what they said to him.
Their birthday isn’t all too different from what it used to be, since they always end up spending their birthday together anyways. Maybe it’s different because they live alone together, without any parents, as boyfriends, as a band that gets gigs at venues a lot more often, as a band that already achieved their childhood dream of playing a show in New York. Thinking about it is magical, and what Ryan adds to his life is magic. Working at a fairytale themed restaurant was anything but magical, but, having Ryan here, for what he hopes to be a long while, he knows it’s magical, and it’s just like art that someone would find in an art gallery, which makes it infinitely more magical.
And, he thinks about the day, the day he called his parents before calling about an apartment for both him and Ryan to live in, — and it’s still the one they currently live in, though, they are planning on moving to a nicer one, but maybe they’re delaying it because of the memories, of the magic they made, of not wanting to leave their humble beginnings just yet — when he told them after an inhale of breath, “I think I like boys,” and his parents being, to his relief, overall accepting and warm-hearted as they replied with, “You and Ryan have always been inseparable, so happy for you both!” It made his cheeks flush, but he didn’t say anything to make them believe any different despite it not being true at the time — Ryan laughed at that when Min retold the story, full and natural and so filled with magic it made his heart almost burst on the spot, Wait, your parents think we’ve been together since Ottawa? So, they don’t know about me sweeping you off of your feet and taking you on a surprise trip to Niagara Falls?
There’s a lot about the two of them that he could reflect on. Their lingering touches and stares, the song that contained the lyrics at least you’re there, their first kiss, and their second, and their seventh — that one took place in a dirty photo booth that Ryan insisted on going into despite them already owning a polaroid camera. It was gross, but still filled with magic. He senses a pattern, of magic every time there’s something involving Ryan, and he’s pretty sure the magic will live on forever.
And as he looks back into the past, as he thinks about how that one time he decided to run towards something instead of away, as he thinks about the clashing colors that blend easily and how he would go back as Ryan went forward, he also thinks about what he has now, in the present. As Ryan’s leaning against him, scribbling down words in his song journal, as the room is filled with the noise of pencil against paper and Min playing on his mini-synth, he doesn’t care to think about the what-ifs, the what if he had gave in to his parents requests and decided to stay and study finance, the what if Ryan didn’t come back, didn't take his keys and cause them to end up on the train. He doesn’t have to because he’s here in the now, in the start of an age, the start of the rest of their lives, as Chicken Choice Judy, and Ryan and Min.
There’s art in a lot of things, not just paintings, and not just nature, but in the small things like the way that Ryan’s hand fits perfectly into his, or the smell of coconut shampoo, or the feeling of waking up in the morning and realizing everything he has wasn’t only something that existed in a dream, but in reality, too. Maybe he still doesn’t think he’s brave, but he’s done things that he wouldn’t have ever considered to be possible back when he was miserably working at Dumpty’s after his best friend set off to go pursue his dream. He’s figured out what he wanted, he’s gotten what he wanted.
And they’ve created magic, magic that fills the spaces between them, magic that connects them together by the pull of a magnet, by making art. The magic that they created, together, the magic that they’ll always create. It’s long living.