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The ward was small and there was no longer even room for the seriously ill. There was for him, it seemed. Seungcheol didn't think he was sick. He just thought he had vices. Vices that could be corrected even without all the medicines they pumped him with from morning to night. He was no longer himself. He walked like a living dead day and night.
- Have you considered hospitalization?
- No. And I won't.
- Look, I spoke to your parents: they say that in their opinion you should be admitted to hospital.
- I'm thirty. I believe that the decision-making power is mine.
- Not in this case. You see, Seungcheol, a drug addict can't risk being exposed to the world out there. Not in your condition.
- I stop whenever I want.
- I don’t think so. Otherwise, you would have already stopped.
- And who tells you this, doctor?
But the doctor had been very convincing, and he was now hospitalized in the psychiatry department. The days were so long he always wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible.
The only light he had was Jeonghan.
Jeonghan was thin as a paper sheet, it was no wonder that every time Seungcheol touched him he could feel his ribs, spine and shoulder blades vividly. He, to all intents and purposes, was sick. He shaked every time he didn’t have his hoodie with him, and it was June.
Jeonghan didn’t go anywhere without his glasses, too. He was blind as a mole, but even with those thick frame glasses, Seungcheol found him so beautiful he couldn’t stop staring at him. He remembered the first time he saw him, on his first day. At that time, Seungcheol had been there for two weeks and two days. And he saw this paper thin boy, curved on his bed, reading something.
Seungcheol had stopped in front of his open door, smiling at him with his consumed teeth, hoping not to scare him.
- Hi! - he said. The boy had raised his head and eyes from his book, looking at him. A shy smile appeared on his lips. - Hi.
- You’re so beautiful. - Seungcheol said, sincerely. The paper thin boy smiled even more, his cheeks turned red. - Thank you. You’re beautiful too.
- Oh, no. I’m not. I’m all consumed by the drugs, you see? Even my tongue is. See? - He stuck out his tongue, and the boy tilted his head. - This doesn’t make you less beautiful. I like your pants.
- These? Oh. I stole them.
The boy laughed. - You stole them?!
- Yeah. I steal lots of things. Have you ever stolen anything?
The boy didn’t even think before answering. - No.
- Good boy. Stealing is not a good thing. I did it because I spent everything on drugs.
- You stole them from who?
He brought a hand to his mouth, whispering: - A clothing shop.
- Makes sense.
- Can I come in?
- Of course. I feel alone here.
Seungcheol entered the room, looking around. The room, like any other, was bare and blindingly white. Psychiatric rooms were almost naked, there wasn't anything that could hurt the patient. Pillows, cables, even body care products were segregated by the nurses. But Jeonghan’s room was full of puppets and books, and Seungcheol was softened by that. He could understand Jeonghan’s good heart just by that. He took a panda puppet from the night table and looked at its eyes, smiling. - So cute.
- My mom brought me that. For the hospitalization.
- She must love you.
- She does.
- Mine doesn’t. She brought me here, with my father. They didn’t want me at home. I know it’s embarrassing, a thirty years old man still lives with his parents.
- You look younger. I’m twenty-nine.
Seungcheol widened his eyes. That boy looked like an angel, a young angel. How could he possibly be his age? - Twenty-what?
Jeonghan laughed. - Twenty-nine.
- Did your parents send you here, too?
- No. I decided to come here.
- Why are you here?
Jeonghan’s face darkened. - Because I don’t eat.
- You… Don’t eat?
- Yeah.
- So you’re like, anorexic or something? - Seungcheol wasn’t good with feelings or words, but he didn’t do it on purpose.
- Yeah. - Jeonghan let his gaze wander through the room. - And you? Why are you here?
- I love drugs.
That had been their first interaction. And now Seungcheol was in his room, dying from boredom, thinking about his sun. And longing for a cigarette. So he decided to do something about that. He walked out of his room, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and walking straight to Jeonghan’s room. He saw the boy sleeping in his bed, and he was delighted by that vision, even if it hurt.
Jeonghan looked like a hurt angel whose wings had been clipped. So thin, everyday he looked thinner and thinner. He had never seen him eating. Every time they had dinner, because dinner was at six p.m. and everyone had it together, he never ate, even if the nurses constricted him, with very unpleasant tones.
- Eat, Yoon.
- I don’t want to.
- I said: eat. If you don’t eat, we tie you up.
- I don’t like lentils.
- You say this every fucking evening and morning. Fucking spoiled boy.
- Hey, don’t treat him like that. - Seungcheol said that evening, and the other patients raised their heads. The nurse looked at him. - Mind your business. I do this for him.
- Have you tried talking to him with sweetness? Maybe his will to eat will be better. You treat us like fucking criminals. And even criminals shouldn’t be treated like this, because they’re human, too.
Jeonghan smiled at him. And his heart started beating faster. He knew he was doing something good by that.
- Shut up, Choi, and eat your lentils.
- No! I deserve to be listened to! Our voice matters! Am I right?
The patients nodded, or said “Yes” in unison.
- We’re not just surnames. We’re people. - Lee Chan said, at the back of the table.
- Of course we are! We are fucking people! And we need to be treated like people!
- Okay, then. - The nurse raised his voice, and overturned Jeonghan’s plate against his pajamas. Jeonghan jumped as the hot soup of lentils touched his skin, wincing. Seungcheol immediately rushed to him, helping him to clean himself.
- What the fuck?! Are you dumb?
- He didn’t want to eat, so he won’t eat. Goodnight. If I don’t see you in your beds, I’ll tell the psychiatrist.
Seungcheol was still shocked by that action. Jeonghan couldn’t even have a shower, because his products and his clean pajamas were in the locker, which was locked and the nurses had the keys. And he probably didn’t have the courage to ask anything. Seungcheol approached him, sitting on his bed and caressing his sunken cheeks.
- Hannie. How are you? Time for a cigarette?
He didn’t take so much time to apprehend Jeonghan was crying, not sleeping. He should’ve felt so humiliated. Seungcheol would make that nurse pay for that.
- Cheol. Am I spoiled?
- You’re not fucking spoiled. You’re really trusting the words of a crazy ass psychopath? You’re ill. You perfectly know that. Here, let me give you this. - Seungcheol had brought a clean sweater from his locker. He asked the keys to the nurses, because he didn’t really care what they could’ve said.
Jeonghan took the sweater. - For me?
- Of course it’s for you. You smell of lentils.
Jeonghan’s eyes dropped.
- Oh, no, no! It’s not your fault, baby. - Seungcheol lifted Jeonghan’s chin, looking at his eyes. He was about to cry. - It’s not your fault. It’s his fault. He made a mess on your beautiful pajamas!
- You… You called me “baby”.
Seungcheol didn’t even notice. He just let his word flow. - Oh. Did I?
- Yeah.
- Sorry. I didn’t mean to.
- No, it’s okay. I like that.
Seungcheol smiled. - Okay, baby. I’ll do it again, then.
Their relationship was so pure Seungcheol wanted to cry. They were… Friends? He never really understood that. They were more than friends.
“Friends don’t call each other baby ” he told himself. And he liked Jeonghan. Every time he looked at him, his heart made somersaults. His big beautiful eyes, his pink lips, his long, black hair. Everything about Jeonghan looked like a fever dream. Jeonghan wore that black sweater, too large for him, but still adorable on his skin.
- Cigarette? - Seungcheol insisted.
- You heard what he said. If he sees us, he ties us up.
- Okay, then I’ll sleep here.
- You… You can’t.
- You’re fucking boring. - Seungcheol lay down on Jeonghan’s bed, hugging him tightly. He could feel his spine and ribs. The boy hugged him back, caressing his back with his small hand.
- I love you.
Seungcheol raised his head, looking at him. - You do?
- I’ve never loved someone like I love you.
Seungcheol held his face, looking at his eyes, at his lips. - Can I kiss you?
Before he could, Jeonghan kissed him. Seungcheol couldn’t be happier. He hugged him ever tighter than before, kissing him everywhere, making him laugh. - I fucking love you too.