Chapter Text
Here he is.
Sohee took a deep breath.
As if in response to a cue from the introduction of a leading character in a romantic comedy he had watched one too many times before, Sohee closed his eyes as the wind gently caressed his face, sighing as he gathered himself. Today, on what seemed to be an ordinary Tuesday, he found himself standing in front of his old high school, a place where he had spent most of his youth.
There have been a lot of changes.
Well, even in a year, significant changes could be deduced; what more in fifteen years that had passed?
Roaming around the empty hallway that Sohee had once belonged to somehow brought a wave of nostalgia to him. It seemed like he was a high schooler again—carefree, beaming with an immeasurable amount of passion and dreams ahead of him. Now, in his mid-30s, as he walked past the familiar hallways he once belonged to, it felt like those cherished moments already belonged to a distant past.
Years had passed, and it would remain a mystery to him—left for him to interpret, to understand.
When he shifted his gaze towards the courtyard, the trees that once provided him shade from the scorching summer heat were now gone. It was a place where he used to hang out with his friends, where he used to spend most of his free time. The air was filled with a mix of memories and a sense of familiarity but somehow felt foreign to him. The once-familiar landscape now bore the marks of time and change. It was a poignant reminder that life moved forward, and what was once an all-encompassing world was now just a fragment of his past.
This school, where Sohee had spent most of his youth—skimming through his notes, frustratedly preparing for examinations and activities that worn him down, racing through the hallways, joyfully sneaking into the cafeteria with his friends, playing around the soccer field, mostly being a victim of poorly estimated trajectory soccer balls by his seniors, secretly looking at his silly crushes from a distance from his locker—would be demolished in less than 24 hours.
The news of demolition was inevitable and, in some ways, weighed heavily on him.
It was particularly a rainy day, at his workplace when Sohee received an email from the former class president of his class regarding the impending demolition of his school. It appeared that the demolition might be a result of the school filing for bankruptcy a year ago, and only this year had the demolition been finalized, as the property had been purchased by new owners.
She suggested that, before the demolition, all of them in the class should gather and unearth the time capsule they had buried in the backyard. Sohee vividly remembers writing a letter for his future self and to other people he had deemed significant enough to him back then, along with the letters, he recalled putting some of his prized possessions. Additionally, she proposed that it would be a great moment to hold a spontaneous reunion for their class. Contrary to popular belief, their class shares a tightly knit bond. Maybe, because they all reside in a comparable small community, where everyone knows everyone. Hence, the close-bond formed between, is a natural upbringing.
Attending was not on Sohee’s agenda; however, a part of him wanted to go. He was curious about what the Sohee from 15 years ago wrote—what was he like? Did he fulfill the aspirations he wrote down? Sohee also wanted to retrieve his diary, buried along with his letter, to give himself a chance to relive his high school self once again.
He didn’t know if it was too normal or if it was a personal issue, but once he entered the workforce, it seemed like he had lost himself. Well, his bubbly and positive personality remained the same, but Sohee felt empty. It felt like he had lost a fragment of himself, and he couldn't pinpoint and put a name to it. Sohee wasn’t quite sure if he could retrieve it.
One of the reasons for attending was that Sohee hadn’t set foot in his hometown for the last 10 years. This was partly because he had been swayed by cutthroat competition with his peers in his adult life after finishing his degree in the city, getting caught up in relentless competitions in his career. Perhaps due to personal reasons he couldn't decipher, the thought of returning to his hometown made his stomach churn in an unbearable way—an unspoken avoidance, something he couldn't quite put into words.
His mother greeted him at the train station with a tight embrace, a gesture he had dearly missed. Tears welled up as he returned to his childhood home. After graduating from university and moving to the city, it was always his mother who visited him; he hadn't returned home since graduation. Sensing the pain Sohee silently carried with him in his hometown, his mother refrained from prying and simply embraced him whenever he felt overwhelmed or emotional.
Upon arriving home, Sohee felt like the place was frozen in time—the furniture's arrangement, the scent, and the overall aesthetic remained unchanged. His father enthusiastically greeted him, having closed down their grocery store, inconveniencing some, just to prepare a meal for his returning son. Sohee felt joyous and overwhelmed by the amount of food he was forced to eat.
Returning to his hometown felt distant; everything seemed unchanged—though that might be an exaggeration. There were noticeable alterations here and there, but despite the familiar surroundings, it felt strangely foreign to him.
His feet dragged him to his old designated classroom in his final years of high school, Class 3-A, located on the 4th floor just adjacent to the faculty room. As Sohee ascended the stairs, each step echoed throughout the empty halls, memories flooding back. He couldn't help but reminisce about the moments when the only things that truly mattered to him were: rigorous preparation for his college entrance exams, helping around for their family business, taking good care of his pets, his friends, and Hong Seunghan.
Arriving at Class 3-A, Sohee paused, taking in the sight of the room that once held the promise of the future—a space where young adults honed their skills and prepared themselves to face the uncertainties the future held for them. Everything looked out of order; the desks that used to be lined in perfection, filled with textbooks and even doodles or vandalism, were now dull and empty, coated with thick dust, piled on top of each other.
Gently closing the door behind him, Sohee dragged a chair from the corner and wiped it with his hands, brushing the collected dust onto the sides of his trousers before taking a seat. He closed his eyes, drumming his fingers in a certain rhythm against the empty desk.
Sohee couldn’t help but think about the people who were once significant to him: his old friends (whom he had shared both highs and lows of high school with), friends he lost touch with when he moved away to further his studies—had they already figured out what they wanted to do in their lives? Were they successful in the paths they had chosen?; His teachers who had guided him throughout his journey as a student—were they still teaching, shaping the minds of the young, or had they retired already?; and those silly crushes he once harbored—were his thoughts able to reach them?
Most importantly, his mind lingered on Hong Seunghan, a friend who played a significant part in his life.
Hong Seunghan was the person who inspired Sohee to dream big and soar high. He was a friend who believed in Sohee's capabilities, even when most others doubted him initially, finding it uncharacteristic for someone like Sohee to have the guts to step out of their comfort zone. Seunghan was more than a friend; he was the person, aside from his family, who believed that Sohee could make a name for himself and break free from the confines of the small community they lived in, seeking bigger horizons that the city had to offer.
Also, the person whom he deeply cared about and who held a space in his heart.
Hong Seunghan was the person who had captured everyone’s interest and heart.
And Sohee is part of that crowd.
Who wouldn’t? Hong Seunghan was a paragon of exellence, excelling both academically and streetwise. He was helpful, nice, kind, polite, witty, generous, and possessed every positive quality imaginable. Their previous class advisers set an unparalleled standard for him, considering him the epitome of what everyone should aspire to become, creating an untouchable benchmark that others struggled to reach.
Everyone rooted for his happiness, looked after him, and adored him.
Lee Sohee, despite his desperate attempts not to, was not an exception.
It didn’t help that Hong Seunghan was his best friend. Seunghan was the first friend Sohee ever made. His family tended to move a lot during those times, searching for an appropriate place to set up their business. Sohee was a shy kid, and due to constant moves, he struggled to make friends with his peers. However, Seunghan, on the other hand, was his polar opposite. He never had problems socializing or making friends, carrying a light and inviting aura whenever he walked into a room.
Sohee was thankful that Seunghan randomly chose to sit next to him in 5th grade. Unlike other kids, Seunghan never poked fun at Sohee’s horrible bowl haircut and wonky teeth. Instead, he incessantly told him how adorable and cute they were. It was so incessant that Sohee began to think the compliments were genuine, contrary to popular belief. Since then, they became an inseparable pair. Where one went, the other followed. They always came together. Sohee carried the nickname "Seunghan’s other half," which his classmates would use to tease him. It should have made him slightly annoyed, but his silly, fragile heart only fluttered to it, holding it dearly.
Sohee and Seunghan were never seen apart during their school days, unless one of them got sick.
How badly Sohee wished it had stayed the same.
However, Seunghan was a real charmer and had attracted a long list of admirers, all hoping and wanting to be a part of his life.
He has this magnetic force in him that easily draw people; attracted, attached, in love with him.
Sohee inadvertently has been casted as their go-to person, they could reach out to ask about Seunghan's likes and wants, his whereabouts, and his hobbies, to relay their messages or letters (he even became a mediator). He was always there; Sohee had always been there, witnessing gifts piling on top of Seunghan’s desk. He watched as seunghan’s desk became like a shrine of affection, adorned with gifts and a token of appreciation. As the days passed, the growing number of his admirers slowly burdened Sohee’s heart; he felt like any time soon, Seunghan would choose one of them, ultimately forgetting about him. Still he fulfilled his duty, relaying the messages and gifts.
And the fact that Sohee was not entirely wrong slowly broke him.
During the first year of high school, Seunghan introduced his first girlfriend to Sohee, Choi Hwayoung.
The realization slowly sank into Sohee, causing a sharp pain in his chest and pricking tears in the corners of his eyes. Even with the close proximity they shared, the sudden realization that he would never stand a chance with Seunghan shattered his heart into multiple fragments in every direction
In the quiet moments, Sohee couldn't escape the loneliness that crept into his heart. Even if it feels so wrong, he longed for a chance, a moment when Seunghan would see beyond the sea of admirers and recognize the depth of Sohee's feelings.
Yet, as each day passed, Sohee became increasingly aware that such a moment might never come.
It had been a year or two since he had last heard about him. The last time he heard of him was through a colleague who happened to know Seunghan; he never really paid attention to what she was saying. But from what he could conclude, it seemed like Seunghan was living a wonderful life, one he could only dream of.
Sohee and Seunghan, despite the major rift that occurred between them during the final year of high school, maintained contact after their graduation. Sohee chose to further his education in the city, while Seunghan attended the local college in their community. They exchanged letters and texts (once they got their first phones through juggling part-time jobs and studies) whenever they could.
It felt like Sohee never really left. Seunghan would attach photos to their letters, some containing his images and others showcasing the scenery of their community. It felt like he was always beside him throughout this whole time. Whenever Sohee came home to visit his parents during holidays, Seunghan was the one to fetch him at the train station. They prepared and shared meals together with Sohee’s family, spending the limited time they had with each other in pure bliss.
This had become a routine for Sohee and Seunghan.
Always there for each other.
Until it wasn’t.
During his internship year, he received a message from Seunghan regarding his plan to settle down and start a family of his own. Seunghan was comparatively young; he was only 23, recently graduated. It seemed too early to consider starting a family. Sohee wouldn't question his financial capabilities, as Seunghan was the sole inheritor of his family, known for their wealth. And settling down? Seunghan had not introduced any potential partner to Sohee other than his ex-girlfriend back in high school, so the sudden decision seemed suspicious.
Initially, Sohee thought it was a horrible prank Seunghan was playing to get him back to his hometown. There were times when Seunghan would prank him, claiming there’s an emergency or a very urgent situation, and he needed to go back home ASAP. Sohee would rush back, only to find Seunghan sporting a playful smile on his lips as he stood waiting for him in the train station. It was solely because he wanted to see Sohee; he missed him. These antics of Seunghan sent Sohee’s poor heart into irregular pacing (he once sought the doctor’s opinion, thinking he had arrhythmia, only to be diagnosed as normal), pushing him into a false pretense of oblivion, knowing that Seunghan, his Seunghan, only saw him as a good friend.
However, when he received an invitation card and a letter in his apartment to be part of the momentous occasion, it dawned on him that he could no longer hold onto Seunghan as he used to. The confirmation that Hong Seunghan was finally settling down hit him hard, not just as a friend but as someone who yearned for more.
Sohee felt grateful that Seunghan chose him as the best man for his wedding. It was a bittersweet acknowledgment of their tight-knit bond, yet a painful reminder to Sohee of what he could never be. Receiving the invitation was a sign for him to put to rest his restless heart, to bury these ugly feelings he secretly harbored for the older man, and let time wither them away in silence and distance.
Wanting to be there for his best friend's special occasion, Sohee tried practicing to contain his emotions, conditioning his mind to be just happy. However, despite repeating thoughts like "Be happy for your friend; he is finally getting his happy ending, don't be bitter about it," as a mantra to suppress his feelings, he still couldn't contain his emotions.
The mere thought of Seunghan, his best friend, getting ready already emotionally devastated him.
The complexities of his feelings towards Seunghan made it unbearable for him to fathom witnessing Hong Seunghan marrying someone else. Sohee felt that even stepping inside the venue would bring tears, especially if he witnessed them exchanging vows and sharing a deep, passionate kiss. He would rather have his eyes ripped apart from its sockets than witness it.
His heart, his selfish heart, wouldn’t be able to handle it. Sohee decided not to attend his best friend's momentous occasion at the last minute, claiming that something urgent had come up at his workplace, preventing him from attending. Sohee promised that he would make up for his absence (which he never did; Sohee never spoke to Seunghan after he got married, nor did he ever go to his home to spend the holidays as he usually would) as a way to protect himself from the impending pain, an inevitable one that he could only bear in silence.
It was selfish and immature of him, but Sohee knew that witnessing his best friend embark on a new chapter, one that didn't include him in the same way, would only further succumb his heart to a different level of heartbreak.
The decision not to attend was a self-preserving one, an acknowledgment that witnessing the union of the person he romantically loved with someone else would shatter the fragile dam holding back his emotions.
It wasn't a rejection of his friend's happiness but a desperate attempt to shield his own heart from the heartbreak that seemed inevitable.
Sohee couldn't sleep properly for months, often succumbing himself to the abyss while crying due to his own selfishness.
Their communication wasn’t abruptly cut off. Seunghan sent him messages, apologizing for not being able to message Sohee regularly as he was busy with wedding preparations. The aftermath of the wedding also hindered him from talking to his best friend more frequently, now that he had other obligations and responsibilities to prioritize before Sohee. Sohee understood and respected it.
Despite Seunghan initiating conversations from time to time, Sohee declined or cut them short because it felt wrong to him. Keeping in contact with Seunghan felt disrespectful to his significant other. Harboring feelings for a friend was already miserable, let alone harboring feelings for a married person; it felt like committing an immoral act. So, he kept his distance and his delicate feelings to himself.
Recalling those moments made Sohee emotional. From the start of Sohee’s miserable love life until the end, where he had already surrendered to a fight that never began. Tears streamed down his face, and he couldn't be bothered to wipe them away because no one would probably enter and witness his vulnerable state.
Fuck.
Sohee has lost track of time; he probably should get going.
His classmates were likely outside, digging up their time capsule. He began composing himself, not wanting his classmates, who were once his friends, to witness the mess he had made for himself. In doing so, he became oblivious to the subtle creak of the door as it swung open, revealing another person; Hong Seunghan, Sohee’s first love and first heartache, standing at the doorway. Seunghan, now aged, still had the same features, but more refined.
Seunghan seemed surprised to see someone inside the vicinity of their previous classroom. Observing Sohee from a distance, not realizing it was him, Seunghan thought it was some random classmate he could either leave alone or catch up with. Choosing the latter, he quietly entered the premises.
The soft creak of the chair pulled Sohee's attention away from the waves of memories he desperately wanted to escape. Startled, he turned to find Hong Seunghan seated right beside him. Sohee was beyond surprised, evident on his face, to see Seunghan, the person responsible for his tears, sitting in front of him. A blush crept onto his face as he locked eyes with Seunghan, his first love, his one and only in the midst of his introspection.
Sohee’s throat suddenly felt dry, even beginning to itch. He let out a few coughs. As Sohee hastily wiped his tears dry and cleared his throat, Seunghan only stared at him in silence, eyes widening as he realized the person he was sitting next to. Sohee didn’t know how and what to talk about; his heart started beating at an erratic pace, but here he was, eyes locking with Seunghan, silence engulfing the atmosphere with unspoken sentiments between the two of them.
Sohee saw how Seunghan tried to physically reach out to him, hands extending, but had not successfully reached him, as Seunghan clasped them together, eventually putting them back into his pockets. Seunghan opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting to speak, but words never seemed to form.
He could only sigh, breaking eye contact as he stared at his feet as if they were the most interesting thing his eyes had ever gazed upon. Sohee understands. Maybe Seunghan felt betrayed by Sohee. Not attending his wedding? Forgivable. But did Sohee ever try to make up for his absence? No! What’s even worse is that he cut contact despite Seunghan still wanting to establish a solid connection between the two of them—totally unforgivable.
Sohee thought that Seunghan was seething with anger, just wanting to contain his emotions. He would be more pleased if Seunghan straight up physically assaulted him, cursing him, wishing never to see him again. But the way Seunghan remained uptight with his emotions made Sohee feel more guilty and sorry.
But he didn't have much for a choice back then.
Yes, maybe Sohee could have explained and told Seunghan the premise to keep their friendship going. But to what extent? Having Seunghan hate him for eternity, for professing his undying love and becoming the subject of prejudice and homophobia in this little conservative, tight-knit community he grew up in? No. Just no. He could never, he would never subject Seunghan to that kind of pain.
As Sohee stared at Seunghan, he realized that Seunghan still looked ethereal. It felt almost illegal thinking that way, but the years he had not seen Seunghan had transformed him from a boy into a man. Sohee regretted not witnessing his best friend grow into the person he is today. There was nothing he could do about the lost time.
As the silence continued to surround them, Sohee started thinking about what he should say. Should he greet him first, or should he apologize for cutting connections? His brain hurt. Cold sweat started beading on his forehead as the awkward silence persisted. Still staring at Seunghan in silence, he saw the other shrug and composed himself, facing Sohee with a bright smile, just like he used to do back then. The only thing that had changed was that there were a few smile lines here and there, but he remained breathtaking.
“Lee Sohee!” Seunghan called, his voice sounding raspy yet warm and sweet, which eventually eased the awkwardness and tension in the air. His bright demeanor effortlessly put a smile on Sohee’s lips. “Hi,” was all Sohee could manage to utter. “How have you been? Has the city life worn you down already?” Seunghan enthusiastically inquired. Sohee swore he saw him inching much closer to him, or it was just fatigue tricking him.
“I’m doing fine. I recently got promoted,” Sohee responded. When he looked up to meet Seunghan’s eyes, they were shining brightly, filled with pride. “I always knew that you’d make it!” Seunghan declared, echoing with genuine happiness.
Sohee couldn't help but smile to himself. “How have you been?” he asked, not too detailed, not wanting to pry into Seunghan’s personal endeavors, but somehow he was really curious about how Seunghan was doing. He just hoped he was doing fine.
“Honestly, miserable and surviving on questionable life choices,” Seunghan responded with a smirk. Sohee couldn't help but chuckle at the response, Seunghan, too, seemed amused and pleased to elicit a genuine laugh from Sohee.
“Ha, how many years has it been? 10 or 9, I am not quite sure, but I am glad I get to see you again. I thought I would never again,” Seunghan lamented, his words laced with regret. A moment of silence followed, regretting his word choices, wishing that he could be more articulate. But he has always never been good with his words.
Clearing his throat as he felt the tension building up, leaving the other conversation elsewhere. “You really didn’t change much. You didn’t even grow taller, and you seem like the Sohee I’ve known,” he teased, attempting to lighten up the atmosphere. Sohee grumbled at Seunghan’s words, retorting, “You didn’t either! You still stink!” Hearing an audible whine from Seunghan. As their conversation progressed, Sohee sensed an unspoken need for clarity. He felt a growing urge to apologize to Seunghan, to offer an explanation that had long been overdue.
“Seunghan,” Sohee called, sounding serious, catching the full attention of the other, waiting for him to continue. “I am sorry about—" However, before Sohee could proceed, he was cut short when the door suddenly creaked open, revealing a former classmate, Song Eunseok.
“Lee Sohee?!” Eunseok's eyes lit up as he caught sight of Sohee. Excited and beaming with so much energy, he hurriedly ran towards Sohee, engulfing him into a tight hug. “Long time no see!” he exclaimed, his eyes sincere and shimmering. Sohee, squirming from his hug, whined in protest, “You miss me that much?!” Sohee sassed, trying to get away from Eunseok’s embrace.
Song Eunseok was special. He was one of the few friends that Sohee kept in touch with after high school. Eunseok was also the person who knew about Sohee's feelings for Seunghan. It shouldn't have been anyone's knowledge, Sohee's feelings for Seunghan. Living in a small, conservative community, Sohee's feelings were a delicate secret. The countryside, with its ingrained traditions and values, didn't provide a welcoming environment for same-sex attractions. The revelation of Sohee's emotions could become a source of shame, potentially tarnishing Seunghan's reputation.
Eunseok happened to know because of the incident that caused a rift between Seunghan and Sohee back in their final year of high school. Sohee would be forever thankful for Eunseok, for being there for him, for being a shoulder he could cry on, a person he could depend on when he was being shredded into pieces by heartbreaks in the past due to his immeasurable love for Seunghan. Sohee and Eunseok planned to go together and informed each other to meet at the gate, but Sohee came here instead of their meet-up spot. He was glad Eunseok knew where to find him. Eunseok always knew.
“Of course I do! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Eunseok responded, pulling Sohee into another tight hug, the warmth of his breath brushing against Sohee's neck. Pulling away from the hug, “They're already downstairs,” Eunseok stated, referring to their former classmates, his gaze roaming around to see Hong Seunghan standing there in silence.
He shifted his gaze slowly back to Sohee, not acknowledging the other. “Shall we go? I bought a shovel; I thought you might forget yours. You tend to forget a lot,” Eunseok stated, earning a huff from Sohee. Eunseok affectionately patted Sohee's head, tousling his hair and eliciting a playful whine. For a moment, Sohee forgot about Hong Seunghan. But the sound of someone clearing their throat caught his attention—ah, Hong Seunghan.
“Shall we all head downstairs?” Sohee suggested. Eunseok nodded, pushing past Seunghan, purposely bumping their shoulders, his hands lazily wrapped around Sohee. Hong Seunghan stood there in silence, watching things unfold before him, sensing an unspoken dynamic that lingered between Sohee and Eunseok.