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Gunwook isn’t sure what day it is today.
Is there a purpose to keep track of stuff like that at this point? Not too long ago, you needed to know the date for more important reasons before, back when life was normal and having a routine made sense. In school you had to know when you had your finals week, at work you were required to meet your deadlines, and while at home you wanted to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries.
But now? Society is finished. Whatever was known as normalcy is now a ghost inhabiting the empty streets. Nothing is sacred anymore, not even the passage of time.
“Don’t get distracted, stay here while I check for danger,” Gyuvin’s voice snaps him out of it.
“When was the last time we were in a dangerous situation? That one big rat we found the other day doesn’t count,” Gunwook shoots back.
“You never know, I guess.”
Gyuvin goes back to the kitchen area while Gunwook stands there in the abandoned living room. It is sort of lovely; some old fashioned flower furniture, a big couch and a matching center table, a broken TV and a similar carpet. Gunwook walks up to take a closer look at the shelf in the corner. This house belonged to a not so big family; a mother, a father, a son, a little daughter, and the grandpa were all smiling at the camera for the picture after the Christmas dinner was served.
Whatever starts to ache in his chest, Gunwook decides it’s best to ignore it. He moves his feet again and almost stumbles due to the paper littering the floor. He crouches down and picks up an old newspaper to skim over it.
“January 10th, 2026”
“OMS DECLARES WORLD EMERGENCY”
“The Health Ministry has coordinated focal points all over the country with emergency resources and professionals willing to assist. The President orders everyone to evacuate their homes immediately and go to their nearest safety location.”
“Mass panic and long lines create chaos in supermarkets: people are resorting to looting.”
“World leaders are worried about how this will affect the economy.”
“Is This The End? Experts discuss.”
Gunwook remembers that month clearly, and it keeps replaying in his head. The havoc, the lives they once knew were over forever, the time paralyzed. Remembering is what keeps the people that mattered most to him alive, but at no point would he go back to the way things were. Is it bad to not be apologetic of this statement? May God drag him right now to Hell if he should, but he does not miss his family even for a second. He’s sure that if the world didn’t end he’d still have found a way to separate himself from their abusive grip and run away with his best friend, Kim Gyuvin.
“Whole house is clear!” Gyuvin shouts. This is something that also happens regularly: Gyuvin always pulling Gunwook out of his overthinking shell.
“This is a safe neighborhood, if I remember correctly, but thank you for your sacrifice though!” Gunwook smirks.
“Am I not such a great hyung,” Gyuvin jokes. It’s been ages since he referred to himself as the hyung, and it’s been ages since any of them cared about the whole ordeal of being born in different years.
Gunwook glances for the last time at the trophy case in the living room. There are a couple of medals and trophies displayed, won by the son and daughter in the family, and the parents’ university diplomas. There are words untold in the gesture, some I’m proud of you, you did so well, thank you for your hard work that made Gunwook’s skin crawl. He makes a mental note to find a bat and come back later to blow off steam with the excuse that it’s therapeutic.
“Did you find anything?”
“I know you’re gonna love this.” Gyuvin shows the hand he was hiding behind his back.
Gunwook knew the face he made could’ve been from a little kid as he instantly recognizes the green package with red letters: Homerun Balls, his favorite snack ever. He snatches the package from Gyuvin’s grip and opens it instantly, and offers the bag to Gyuvin after eating a few in one go.
“Dude,” he can barely verbalize, his cheeks stuffed with the sweet chocolate balls. “I could cry right now. Do you know how long it’s been since I even saw one of these?”
“It seems they were fans of candy.” Gyuvin is able to catch how Gunwook’s eyes light up after this statement. “Don’t worry, I already filled the bag with the ones I found and are still edible. There’s even some soda cans!”
This has been their usual routine for a while. It’s not like they’re short on food, water or a place to sleep— there’s plenty of these abandoned places, all left behind by the humanity that lived there before, more than needed for two young men to live with. At this point they try to look for fun: toys, trinkets, junk food, and they got lucky with the beer bottles they found last week. That’s something they had never considered when they used to watch apocalyptic zombie movies; how monotonous surviving could be.
Gunwook fills his water bottle and finishes raiding the kitchen before moving to the rest of the house. At the end of the hall there’s a room with a mini sofa, a filled bookcase and a small table with a jar and dead flowers. Gunwook’s attention is centered on the shelf, he misses reading books so much and hopefully he’d find some interesting ones in this house.
“Is that…?” Gyuvin points at an unnoticed object in the less illuminated corner of the room.
Both of them stare for a few seconds before recognizing what the oval object is. They run as they giggle and drop to their knees, hands clumsy with excitement. It’s a wireless boombox, and if they prayed enough, the batteries would still have enough life left in them to make it work. It seems that there was a CD inside of it already, but they’ll take any music genre that is available at this point.
The music starts to sound, and a relief comes instantly from their faces. It’s a slow song they can’t recognize.
“Would I sound like an asshole if I said I’m grateful this family had to leave this absolute treasure behind?” Gyuvin is the first one to speak after the first song was finished.
Gunwook cackles at this, no filter at all is needed when more than half of the population has vanished. “This is one of your worst jokes, actually.”
“And you need to expect even worse jokes from me.” Gyuvin starts to stand up and offers a hand to Gunwook, mocking chivalrousness. “Mr. Park, will you concede this classic piece to me?”
Gunwook gets on his feet and responds with a pretentious bow. “It would be an honor, Mr. Kim.”
It’s a silly scene, actually. Pretending to know any basic etiquette and dancing as if they were in a big dance salon, illuminated with pompous chandeliers, marble floors and surrounded by rich and snobby bastards. It’s fun to pretend they don’t have anything else to worry about. Gyuvin lifts his arm to let Gunwook twirl, resulting in a big gummy smile from him. There’s something almost poetic to be said about the contrast between the outside and inside, the sun setting and the presence of the night coming in, and their small rejoice inside of their “home” for tonight. A song Gunwook doesn’t know starts playing, and he only catches a few words, something about “love”, “eternity”, “together” and “dancing in the moonlight.”
A voice inside Gunwook’s head suddenly alarms him that he should remember the date today, but he pushes it back to enjoy this happy moment, he’ll never know if this will be his last.
***
Gunwook wakes up in a cold sweat from a nightmare. He always dreams the usual: dying due to the disease, the last look his father gave him, not having any resources left. You know, the usual things to worry about. This time it’s something more sinister appearing in his subconscious: the thought of losing Gyuvin.
It’s pitch black when he opens his eyes. They found a very comfortable bed in the parents’ room and left all their stuff packed next to the nightstand. They tend to sleep together, with the excuse that they need to always be prepared for an emergency—neither of them are willing to admit they like cuddling and are afraid of being separated. When Gunwook stretches his arm and pats the other side of the bed, it’s empty.
“Gyuvin?” Gunwook calls for his name while he puts on his shoes.
His heart beats faster and faster as his plea receives no answer. With a trembling hand, he tries to reach for the flashlight he had left next to the bed, but either Gyuvin took it with him or he’s still in his nightmare where everything goes wrong and he loses the older boy.
“Gyuvin?” Gunwook practically screams as he walks through the house, getting accustomed to the darkness and barely recognizing what’s in front of him.
He runs outside and feels like he’s about to cry. The cold air clogs his lungs and prickles his skin, and the nausea in his stomach makes him feel sick.
“Gyuvin?” He screams for the last time.
“Gunwook? I’m right here!” A familiar voice finally responds, although sounding far away.
It’s enough to calm him down a bit. Gunwook feels his soul return to his body and tries to follow where the voice came from.
“Where are you?” Gunwook crosses the path that leads to the yard next to their house.
“Just go upstairs.” Gyuvin’s final instructions are not that clear, since it’s still quite dark and Gunwook feels he might fall at any time.
Gunwook finally reaches the outside stairs of that building, they lead to an abandoned rooftop, and Gyuvin is not offering any explanation.
“Gyuvin, you–” he begins to scold.
“Shhh,” Gyuvin interrupts. “Please watch out for your steps, okay? You’re gonna ruin my masterpiece.”
“What?” It’s the last thing Gunwook is able to ask, he walks cornering whatever was located in the middle of the floor.
Gyuvin lights up four candles, carefully located around a black box with tube entries. Gunwook is unable to tell what it is.
But oh, the spectacle after is quite fascinating.
The black box shoots a ball of fire to the sky and the whistling sound announces what the object was for before exploding in the air. The fireworks are colorful, they light up the firmament before evaporating and converting to bright stars.
“What the fuck, man!” Gunwook shouts, but unable to hold back the smile drawn in his face. “You’ll attract people!”
“Well, I don’t care.” Gyuvin walks over so his next words are not lost in the noise of the fireworks still cracking in the sky. “Happy New Year, Gunwookie.”
Ah, so that was the date he kept forgetting.
They quietly watch the last blows of the machine. The smell of gunpowder filled the air, and once again Gunwook feels like he’s about to cry.
“So romantic, isn’t it?” Gyuvin is the first one to break the silence after the show.
“You’re nuts,” Gunwook says what he’s been thinking in the last hour, “and Happy New Year to you as well, Gyuvinnie.”
The candles, the stars and the moon are the only sources of light left behind after the fireworks ended, Gunwook can see closely how Gyuvin’s big doe eyes never lose their sparkle.
“Ah,” Gunwook complains suddenly. “This reminds me that I never got my first kiss. This sucks.” He doesn’t know why he would bring this up at this moment.
“Mhm, me neither.” He also doesn’t expect that would be the response from the Kim Gyuvin.
“What?!” Gunwook sounds more indignant than what he intended. “Wait… Not even with Ricky? I always thought, you know, you two had something going on.”
Gyuvin doesn’t seem that surprised with the question, so he just snorts at it. “I mean... yeah no, we didn’t. Never.”
“Damn.” It comes from his heart. “If anything, I always thought he was pretty, very pretty.”
The machine starts shooting a second round of fireworks, it startles Gunwook for a second.
“Hey, where on Earth did you get this thing?” Gunwook turns to Gyuvin, but gets interrupted again.
This time, there’s a pair of lips on his own mouth.
It’s kind of ironic, the more he thinks about it. They’re currently in a world that’s wasted, in a society that doesn’t exist anymore, and reminiscing about years that will never come back. They’re living in a movie, having a scene where fireworks light up and he kisses the girl. But this is not a girl, this is his friend and they’re not the protagonists of a novel.
Still, Gunwook leans into the kiss. Being this close, Gyuvin has to tilt down his head a little to match, and cups Gunwook’s cheek while his thumb slowly caresses it. Gunwook doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Is it awkward if he touches Gyuvin’s waist? He wants to touch him, so he holds onto the boy’s belt loops and lightly pulls.
He doesn’t keep track of how much time they last kissing, mouths sloppy and inexperienced, laughing like idiots. As if nobody's watching, as if it’s the end of the world. He only registers that they have to separate to get some air.
Gyuvin plants a peck on Gunwook’s rosy cheek. “Let’s go, we need to find Ricky. He can’t be dead.”
Tonight, the moonlight is brighter than usual.