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To say Min-Gi Park missed Ryan Akagi was an understatement.
I made a promise to distance myself;
He had everything he could want in the world. He had a beautiful girlfriend, a caring family, and a successful future, right at his fingertips. And yet, above all else, he was missing something. He was missing someone.
Took a flight, through aurora skies…
Suddenly, he remembered the fateful day where everything went downhill. His lips contorted with a bitter sourness to them, his eyes full of sorrow as they fixated on old photos of his best friend.
Ryan was his first everything; his first love, his first kiss, his first friend.
"I don’t think we can keep doing this.”
Min-Gi resented himself for making his choice. He sought out a facade of happiness that could never be as genuine as Ryan Akagi’s.
His stomach twisted in knots as he saw his face drop. He remembered the tears that welled up in his eyes, the bump in his throat bobbing.
He knew Ryan all too well.
Honestly, I didn’t think about how we didn’t say goodbye;
Just, “see you very soon”.
Min-Gi did the one thing he knew how to do well—he ran away. He ran, practically blind, face first into what he thought would be his future and yet, here he sat, a trembling thumb brushing dust off a fragile picture frame.
It was the two of them, standing side-by-side, exaggeratedly smiling at the camera. Even in his moment of sadness, he couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh, his throat burning.
Even after months of breaking up with him, he still loved him all the same. In his heart, he was tied to Ryan; like the soulmates they were, bound together by the golden string of fate. He recalled his most recent relationship—with a girl—and how it turned out.
It hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you.
“Do you miss him?” She asked, her soft brown eyes a reminder.
“What?”
“I asked, do you miss him? Y’know, your ex, the weird one.” The moles on her face made his heart ache.
“He’s not weird. He’s just… He does his own thing, that’s all.”
“Mm, whatever. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“... No, of course not.” He bit through his own lie.
“I figured you might. You guys seemed close,” She frowned as Min turned his face away from her.
“I guess we weren’t as close after all.”
So, I didn’t call you for sixteen long days,
If he were to be honest, he was fueled by fear. He was scared of his whole life; the past, present, and future. He didn’t want things to change. He had to make a choice, a sacrifice, for what he believed would be better for Ryan and himself.
The world was cruel to open, queer couples - Min had seen and heard horrifying stories. He couldn’t bear to put Ryan’s life at risk.
Min-Gi wanted things to be planned out and easy for him, like a straight road leading to nowhere, and yet—
Ryan was the one that brought complexity to his life. And he loved that about him, how he made his life exciting, worth living for.
It hurt him to know that everything reminded him of his past friend.
and I should get a cigarette, for so much restraint;
No matter how long I resist temptation, I will always lose.
“So, what do you think? Does this dress look good on me?”
The girl wore a white-flowered dress that billowed past her knees. To match, she had a pair of calf-length heeled boots, adding a few inches to her height.
The dress, itself, complimented her dark hair, face neatly framed between brown curtains of color.
Ryan would wear this dress. He couldn’t stop seeing Ryan everywhere he looked, and right now, that’s all Min could think of—His ex-lover in the dress of his current one.
“I—Yeah, you look amazing! Really, you look like a piece of artwork.”
Shaking his head, he did his best to dismiss his thoughts of Ryan, suppressing hidden feelings. She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck for an embrace.
“Aw, Min, you always know what to say.” Then, she placed a firm kiss on his lips, faintly tasting like strawberry chapstick and mouthwash.
Min-Gi could be content with this. He WOULD be content with this life; repressing his true desires for temporary happiness, hoping it could be permanent forever.
It hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you.
Even after their departure, Min-Gi never really forgot about Ryan. He hoped they would cross paths again, however that entailed, but he was fearful of the results.
Would his old friend accept him with open arms? Or would he view him as a mere stranger, a repressed memory?
For a while, he didn’t know. Ryan was always unpredictable like that, eager to explore the unexplored, and courageous as ever. He saw a passion in him that he couldn’t see in himself.
What had happened between them? Frankly, Min-Gi resented his choice, one that he had to live with. But there was an aching longing in his chest, as though he was missing a piece of himself.
He found himself lost at night, endlessly staring at blank walls, pondering the possible “what if’s” if he had chased after them.
He was tired of letting people determine his future. He wanted to take things into his own hands. For himself, for his future, for Ryan.
I’ve done the math, there’s no solution—
We’ll never last, why can’t I let go of this?
However, there was nothing he could do. Ryan was long gone, most likely adventuring across Canada and the States, Min-Gi long forgotten. Maybe that was what Ryan thought about—Maybe not.
He missed him. Everyday, no matter how hard he wished, Ryan wasn’t coming back; not for a long time. He recalled the nights where he shed tears over him, fists balled at his sides, body trembling with anxiety.
The nights where his voice would run raw from sobbing were too often. He had let his whole life be dictated by others' actions and passions, never his own, and yet—Music and his best friend were his passion.
He had lost one so quickly, crying to the sky in agony as he wished for time to turn back.
But nothing would make Ryan return; at least, not now.
So, I broke my promise; I called you last night.
I shouldn’t have, I wouldn’t have if it weren’t for the sight of a boy—
He remembered how his fingers would tremble over the phone receiver, uncertain of what he would say if his old friend answered.
Min-Gi’s head spun at the thought of hearing his voice; perhaps he would be surprised or angry, rightfully so. He would hang up before the second ring, pacing, biting already-chewed nails out of nerves.
Over their time apart, Min-Gi did, within his best efforts, to gain confidence and put himself first. He talked with his parents about his passions and worries; they weren’t upset about Min-Gi’s beliefs or dreams.
Like him, they were frightened of an uncertain future for their son, but longed for him to be happy. And Min-Gi knew, in time, a mutual understanding would be exchanged between himself and his parents.
His parents were proud of him. They wanted him to be happy and that’s all he could ask for. Now, it was time for him to put his foot forward and resolve this mess—his mess and he was going to make things right with his best friend.
—Who looked just like you, standing out on Melrose Avenue.
It hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing, with you.
—
Min-Gi could feel his heart in his throat as he sat inside his car. His knuckles were pale from clenching his fists, seat reclined back, as he glanced over to his girlfriend.
She smelled, overwhelmingly, of flowery perfume and practically shined in glitter; it was an unsettling sensation for his sinuses. She was saying something, but all he could hear was garble. His mind was elsewhere.
The last time he was in his car, so intimate-like, was with Ryan Akagi. He hadn’t dared to taint such a sacred place, not one that reminded him most of his old lover and friend.
And yet, in some way, this felt like a betrayal—It was as if he was moving on for good and Min-Gi wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
What was he doing? He broke up with him because of a deliberate choice; to ensure their safety and beneficial future, but this didn’t feel right. Being with someone else than Ryan wasn’t right.
However, none of that mattered when she got close, interlocking her hand with his. It felt faintly familiar, as if he had done it before, but his brain fell to static as their lips connected.
Gentle hands roamed his sides, grazing up and down in a soothing motion, but it didn’t help. Min-Gi’s lungs felt like they were on fire, engulfed in a roaring flame.
At first, he didn’t know what to do with his hands and, trusting his instincts, he did the one thing he knew how to do; he held her face, running a thumb over a warm cheek. And suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.
Time felt like it was moving slowly as Min-Gi came face-to-face with his memories. All he could see was Ryan above him, smiling down as his contagious laugh bubbled out of his mouth.
It sounded like music to his ears, a symphony, he had realized—one that he wanted to listen to for his entire lifetime.
All he could envision was Ryan; kissing him, holding his hand, and spending the rest of his life together. All of his girlfriend’s mannerisms reminded Min-Gi of him and he came to a realization—he couldn’t do this anymore.
He had to accept the fact he was repressing feelings for so long and that it was time for him to embrace them.
Min-Gi Park never stopped loving Ryan Akagi. He just stopped loving himself when he left.
In a panic, Min-Gi took hold of the girl’s shoulders and pushed her away, eyes opening in fear. His chest heaved as her hands went in the air, expression reading,
“It’s okay, I know something’s wrong, I’m not here to hurt you.”
Nothing could be contained any longer. Tears began to roll down his cheeks, mind overstimulated and heart aching. How long did he expect to keep this charade up?
How long was Min-Gi planning on keeping Ryan “safe” by being them apart?
Genuinely, he didn’t know. He had no idea how much this could have hurted and here he was, sobbing into his girlfriend’s shoulder.
They spent hours inside of his car, talking the night away, as the hours drew longer and farther apart.
To his surprise, she was understanding—She could sense that, throughout their relationship, there was a sadness to Min-Gi.
She could never put her finger on it and now she could see why. She explained to him that while they could no longer be together, she wanted to keep in touch.
She saw him as a close friend, even in heartbreak. That’s what she wanted for him—For Min-Gi to be happy and himself, no matter who he was with.
And Min-Gi found himself happy.
It hurts to be something, it hurts to be nothing without you.
It had been months since their exchange in the car. From the depths of his heart, he was grateful to have that experience of a relationship, and her as a friend.
He hadn’t expected her to be so kind to him; in a way, Min-Gi overlooked her kindness for his own battles.
Now, he was alone, but content with himself. There was much to unpack within himself; his independency and the lingering love for his best friend.
Although there was still a lingering sadness, it felt a bit lighter, as though he was finally able to be honest with himself.
He wanted to make things right.
One night, he found himself laying in bed, staring idly at the window. His heart would forever belong to Ryan Akagi; no matter the number of different universes or realities, they were soulmates and destined to be together.
As his eyelids grew heavy, he could faintly make out how bright the stars shone, just like Ryan all those months ago.
And as he fell soundly asleep, they began to glow a bit brighter than before.