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All it took was a midnight call from the police to turn all their lives upside down. Sunoo supposes that night was bound to leave a stain on their small town, one way or another. A pair of friends, driving back from a music performance —a first on all accounts for the forgotten place they called home— at two in the morning. The car cut through the rainfall and the two friends sang along at the loud music coming from the speakers. Perhaps, if it was day instead of nighttime, or if the roads were dey instead of slippery wet, or if they just chatted instead of listening to loud music and singing along, then maybe…
It didn’t matter anyway. The investigation of the accident was well underway and Sunoo couldn’t do anything other than sit there, dressed in black and holding his mother’s hand tight in his. He wasn’t sure if it was in an effort to console her or a way to keep himself tethered to reality and not what ifs . That didn’t matter either.
Jay was in the hospital, with a nasty concussion and a broken arm, but healing. Sunoo should focus on that and slowly come to terms with the rest. These things take time, as he’s been told multiple times since last night. He knows. But that prospect doesn’t actually make it easier to deal with now.
People stand up, each holding a number of flowers or bouquets to leave against the wooden surface of the white coffin. Jungwon’s mom cries silently on the edge of the room, gripping her own set of flowers for her child and looking on, as her husband rubs comfortingly at her back, sporting similar tear tracks on his face.
Sunoo averted his gaze and hurriedly cut in front of an older couple. He deposited his assortment of roses next to the coffin, sparing a glance at Jungwon’s photo, before exiting the funeral home.
It’s at the first hit of wind against his skin that Sunoo realizes his own tears have dripped down his neck and moistened the collar of his shirt. He wipes them away with his sleeve, and takes a shuddering breath. The frigid air burns his lungs with each inhale, but he continues to breathe in deeply before he succumbs to another meltdown.
The walk home is a short one, and Sunoo wishes he’d notified his mom before he left the service, because he feels too drained to do anything but toe off his shoes and faceplant into his bed.
Sleep comes fast, thankfully. But the dreams are not forgiving.
——
Sunoo wakes up with a sob lodged in his throat. He tries to swallow it down but coughs when it moves lower, towards his lungs. The glass of water he always keeps on his bedside table, in order to prevent sore throats in the morning, is empty. It stands as a reminder that Sunoo really did sleep through the remainder of yesterday. He can recall the door opening and closing when his mom got home some time after him, and he remembers his duvet covering him up and his bedroom door creaking shut, and nothing else after that.
Besides the dreams.
They say you see your life flash before your eyes when you’re close to crossing over. Sunoo used to live by the mindset of living life unregretfully and to the fullest, so his last moments would be as happy as possible. He’s not so sure now. Memories of a childhood friendship, growing up together and forgetting the times they were apart because they’re too few and far between; experiences and adventures by each other’s side. Instead of happiness and a sense of fulfilment for a well-lived life, Sunoo fills his heart ache, two imaginary hands twisting and squeezing the organ between them.
If only he could turn back time. Follow Jungwon and Jay to that stupid indoor concert, or even better, ask them —beg them!— to come back home with him, snuggle up in blankets and eat dry cereal out of the box while watching Netflix.
Ugh ! Sunoo groaned against his pillow, trying his hardest to ground himself and his wandering thoughts. He feels too hot and uncomfortable, as he is still dressed in his formal jacket and pants.
He turns around, staring at his ceiling for a while; a tiny spider crawling up the wall, some chipped paint on the corner there.
The telltale sounds of his mom waking up and getting ready for work filter through his closed door. Her footsteps are comforting, the routine —even not his own— brings a warm comfort along with it. Time heals all , the voice of a faceless random woman echoes in his head, and Sunoo wants to believe it.
The front door clicks shut, his mom delicate as always in order to not wake him up before he absolutely needs to get up for class. Another groan escapes his lips at the thought of school. He can’t recall the day of the week, but he’s already decided to skip at least the first class of the day. Nobody would care or miss him anyway. The world will continue to go on even if he stays at home for a day, but deep down he knows that it’d be worse to stay alone right now.
He’s gathering the will to roll out of his bed, when the doorbell rings. At first, he’s not sure it’s actually that or simply his brain playing tricks at him, but then it rings again, shrill and completely real.
Thinking it’s his mom, having forgotten her keys or something, Sunoo trudges to the doorway.
“What are you doing still in your pajamas, dude? We’re going to be late to band practice.”
Sunoo stares after Jungwon, as the younger pushes past him and walks over to the kitchen table, grabbing two apples and throwing one to Sunoo when he remains unmoving by the door.
A shudder goes through him, and he feels the tingle all over his body as his hair stands on end. And maybe it’s from the cold air seeping in from outside, and not his best friend whose funeral he’d attended yesterday being in his kitchen. Maybe.
“Sunoo?” Jungwon sounds worried as he takes a couple steps closer. Sunoo would take the appropriate number of steps back, if he wasn’t rooted to the ground in astonishment.
Was this a lucid dream? Was he still sleeping? He hoped he was. Because it’d be really fucked up if he started seeing ghosts all of a sudden. Dreaming would also explain the fact that their last band practice was previous Thursday, right before their Friday night performance. They wouldn’t resume classes until after the winter break. This was surely his brain just making him relive past events in his sleep.
“Sunoo? You’re kinda freaking me out here. Are you okay?” Jungwon had moved closer in the time Sunoo took to figure out what was happening.
And ha! Jungwon was one to talk about being freaked out? What was Sunoo supposed to feel then?
He hummed and closed the door silently, as if afraid he’d interrupt his own dream. “Band practice, yes,” he mumbled as he walked back to his room, careful to avoid any sort of contact with the Jungwon of his imagination, and closing himself into his room once again. He leaned against the door, heart thumping wildly in his chest.
It was weird. Of course. With no experience on the matter, he wondered if he was supposed to be so mindful of his thoughts and actions while he was dreaming. He found himself having to force the words and reactions out of himself, while he expected it to come naturally, like a theatre actor playing an old role.
He wasn’t dreaming, was he?
“If you don’t hurry up, we’ll seriously be late,” Jungwon said from the other side of the door, making Sunoo startle. A bit of silence, then, “Are you sick?”
Sunoo squeezed his eyes shut tightly. This can’t be real.
“I’ll be out in a second,” he managed to call out, his voice cracking on the last syllable. He made quick work of taking off his suit and changing into more casual clothes. After a small searching session, he located his phone in the pocket of yesterday’s jacket, and out of habit, he clicked the side button so he could check the time.
8:13, Monday, December 14th
Propelled by the same habit, he pushed his phone in his jeans’ front pocket without giving it much thought. It was as he walked out of his room, experiencing another jolt of shock at seeing Jungwon still standing in the kitchen —reading a magazine his mom left open on the counter this time—, that it clicked.
December 14th ? This was last Monday. Last band practice. Sunoo’s eyes widened as each thought occurred, and he glanced at Jungwon in disbelief.
He had to verify the date, and without much thought, reached out to fish Jungwon’s phone out of his hoodie’s pocket.
Monday, December 14th.
Sunoo looked between the phone screen and Jungwon a couple times, Jungwon growing increasingly perplexed with each repetition.
Then, Sunoo smiled. Uncontrollably and wholeheartedly. He didn’t know if he would unexpectedly wake up to a world without his best friend once again, but here, next to Jungwon, he felt whole again. He grabbed the front of Jungwon’s hoodie, pulling him against his chest and wrapping his arms around him in a suffocating hug. There was a millisecond of a pause before Jungwon reciprocated.
“I had a weird dream,” he said, in way of an explanation. “We’ll be late, let’s go!”
Jungwon huffed behind him, and Sunoo knew he was smiling even as he walked down the hall, Jungwon’s footsteps close behind him.
“Say, do you want to have a little sleepover Sunday night?” he asked, on their bus ride to school. He felt weird asking the question, even though he’d mulled over it for nearly the whole ride until he finally spoke it to existence. It made him feel deceitful in a way. But this was his chance, before Jay mentions the music festival during lunch that day.
“Hm? Sure,” Jungwon smiles easily, even though Sunoo could still see the leftover worry in his eyes. “We can make caramel popcorn.”
Sunoo’s eyes lit up. “Yes! We definitely have to have caramel popcorn!” and just like that, they excitedly started discussing the possible sleepover activities they could do.
Time heals all, indeed, Sunoo mused. Especially when it turns back.