Work Text:
Sunghoon stands inside the school auditorium for one last. The principal is giving some speech about “endless new possibilities” that life would bring forth. It’s graduation day. Sunghoon’s high school years are over. In a week he will be leaving the familiarity of his hometown and moving to a new city, all alone. He doesn’t know how he even got accepted into SNU, sure his grades were in the upper ranks and his skills as a figure skater which is definitely good enough to land him a spot into the National team was apparently a shoo in for SNU. It has been the talk of the town for the past month, even with the sales in his father’s shop soaring.
Sunghoon wonders if he would be able to fit into the Seoul lifestyle. He has been trying for the past months to lose his daegu satori, so that he doesn’t stand out. He has gone even shopping for better clothes. Will he even be able to make friends? What if he fails and gets kicked out of the program?
He is broken out of his thoughts as they start calling the names of students to collect their degrees on stage.
“Park Sunghoon” the announcer calls his name.
Sunghoon takes a deep breathe, puts on his confident smile and goes on the stage. The principal smiles at him and wishes him the best for Seoul.
He looks around to see Heeseung and Jake going up on the stage to collect their degrees. Heeseung , Jake and Sunghoon have been friends since the beginning of high school. Heeseung and Sunghoon have been friends since their childhood, having grown up in the same town. Jake had moved to town during the beginning of their freshmen year and they have friends ever since.
After the event, Sunghoon is surrounded by his family and his classmates that he loses sight of his friends. He takes pictures with his family, some with his classmates. He finally excuses himself, tells his family he will catch up with them later. He runs through the crowded corridors to find them.
He hears Jake’s laughter ring out first, loud and carefree, his arm draped casually around Heeseung’s shoulders. It was a sight Sunghoon had grown accustomed to over the years. His two best friends—the ones who had been there since they were kids, when playing soccer after school and eating cheap ramen by the river were all they cared about. But now, something had changed. It wasn’t something tangible or obvious, but it gnawed at Sunghoon from the inside, a slow, creeping sensation of being pushed to the sidelines.
Suddenly Jake looks back and his voice cut through the haze of Sunghoon’s thoughts, his eyes bright with the same boyish energy they’d always held.
“Sunghoon! Where have you been man? Hurry up!”
Sunghoon forced a smile, his feet quickening as he jogged to catch up with them. But even as he approached, the distance between them felt insurmountable, like a widening chasm he couldn’t quite cross. He fell into step beside them, but the conversation carried on without him, Jake and Heeseung engrossed in their own world, talking about the weekend soccer match with an ease that made Sunghoon feel like an outsider in his own group.
Heeseung turned to him suddenly, his smile warm but fleeting. “We were thinking about hitting up the arcade tonight. You in?”
Sunghoon hesitated, his gaze flickering between the two of them. The familiar ache in his chest tightened, and the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. He wanted to go—he wanted to feel like part of their world again—but the idea of being there, watching Jake and Heeseung share inside jokes he didn’t understand, was unbearable.
“I can’t, I pomised my family I would have dinner with them tonight” Sunghoon said quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the noise of passing students. “ Also, I have to pack. Seoul, you know…”
Jake’s grin faltered, just for a second, before he quickly recovered, clapping Sunghoon on the shoulder. “Right, Seoul! Man, I keep forgetting you’re leaving next week. Feels weird, doesn’t it? Like, you’ve been here forever.”
“Yeah,” Sunghoon replied, the word hanging in the air between them. He could feel the weight of it—forever—pressing down on him, because deep down, he knew that things were about to change in a way that might never go back to how they used to be.
Heeseung’s gaze lingered on Sunghoon, his smile tinged with something softer, something closer to sadness. “We’ll miss you, man.”
Sunghoon wanted to believe him, but the pit in his stomach told him otherwise. He nodded, offering a small, strained smile. “I’ll miss you guys too. C’mon lets go in and take some pictures together”
But even as he said the words, they felt hollow, like an echo of something that used to be real.
---
That night, Sunghoon sat in his room, the dim glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows against the walls. The suitcase on his bed lay open, half-packed, its contents spilling over the edges in a chaotic mess that mirrored the storm brewing inside him. He stared at it for a long time, his fingers absently tracing the worn fabric of an old hoodie—one he’d worn during countless late-night hangouts with Jake and Heeseung, back when things felt simpler.
The room was quiet, too quiet, except for the faint murmur of the television coming from the living room. His parents were watching a variety show, the occasional burst of laughter filtering through the door, but Sunghoon’s thoughts were elsewhere, replaying the moments from earlier in the day.
Jake’s smile, the way it faltered. Heeseung’s eyes, filled with something that looked suspiciously like doubt. The distance, the slow unraveling of their friendship, had been creeping up on him for months. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but now, with the countdown to his departure ticking away, it was all he could think about.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new message from Heeseung.
Heeseung: You sure you don’t wanna hang out? We won’t have many more chances before you leave.
Sunghoon stared at the message, the words blurring in his vision as his mind churned with conflicting thoughts. He knew Heeseung meant well, that he was trying to keep things normal, trying to hold on to whatever was left of their friendship. But it felt forced. Like they were all pretending nothing had changed, when deep down, they knew everything had.
Sunghoon: Sorry, just tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.
He set the phone down and leaned back against the pillows, his eyes closing as the familiar weight of loneliness pressed down on his chest. It was an ache he couldn’t shake, one that had been growing ever since he’d made the decision to leave for Seoul. A fresh start, he’d told himself. A chance to escape the suffocating feeling of being left behind. But now, in the quiet of his room, he wasn’t sure if he was running toward something new, or running away from something he couldn’t face.
______________________________________
The train ride to Seoul felt endless, the countryside blurring past the window in a swirl of green and grey. Sunghoon watched it all slip away—the narrow streets of Daegu, the small houses clustered together, the distant mountains that framed the horizon. It all grew smaller and smaller, until it was just a memory.
When he finally stepped out of the station into the heart of Seoul, the city greeted him like a wall of sound and movement. The air was different here, heavy with the scent of street food and car exhaust, a constant hum of life buzzing around him. The streets were packed with people, each one moving with purpose, weaving through the crowded sidewalks like they knew exactly where they were going. It was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the quiet familiarity of Daegu.
Sunghoon stood there for a moment, his suitcase at his feet, taking it all in. The towering buildings stretched high above him, their glass facades glinting in the late afternoon sun. Everything here was bigger, louder, faster. It made him feel small, insignificant, like a single drop in an ocean of people who had already carved out their place in this vast, sprawling city.
The campus of Seoul National University was no different. It was huge, a maze of buildings and pathways, students rushing between classes with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, faces buried in their phones or deep in conversation. Sunghoon wandered through the campus, trying to take it all in, but it was hard to shake the feeling that he was completely alone in a sea of strangers.
That’s when he met Jay.
“Lost?” A voice called out, and Sunghoon turned to see a guy with a bright smile and easy posture, standing a few steps away. He had a casual confidence about him, the kind that made it seem like he belonged wherever he was.
“Yeah, a little,” Sunghoon admitted with a small laugh. He glanced down at the campus map in his hand, which wasn’t helping at all.
Jay chuckled, stepping closer to peer at the map over Sunghoon’s shoulder. “First week on campus, huh? Don’t worry, I’ve been here for a year and I still get lost sometimes.”
Sunghoon smiled, feeling a small sense of relief. “Yeah, it’s a little overwhelming.”
“Tell me about it,” Jay said, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. “But it gets better. Come on, I’ll show you where the lecture hall is. You’re probably heading the same way as me.”
As they walked, Jay effortlessly filled the silence with conversation, talking about campus life, classes, and the best places to eat around the university. Sunghoon felt the tension slowly ease out of his shoulders. Jay had a way of making everything seem less intimidating, his carefree attitude rubbing off on Sunghoon in a way that made him feel lighter.
---------------
It was a late afternoon, a few months after he came to SNU, when Sunghoon first saw her. Her silhouette bathed in the soft glow of the library’s golden-hour light. She stood by the tall windows, her long, dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders as she flipped through the pages of a thick textbook, entirely absorbed in whatever she was reading. Her fingers moved gracefully, lightly touching the edges of the pages, her lips parted ever so slightly in concentration.
There was something delicate about the moment, like a scene from an old photograph, perfectly framed by the quiet and the lingering scent of aged paper and ink. Sunghoon, standing a few meters away, couldn’t help but pause, his eyes drawn to her as though she were the only person in the vast, echoing library. He wasn’t the type to notice people like this—not in this way. But something about her felt…different.
He was trying to look away, trying to focus on the shelf of books in front of him, when fate decided to intervene.
As he turned to leave, a thick volume slipped from the shelf above and collided with the edge of Wonyoung’s table. It startled her, sending her own stack of books toppling to the ground. She gasped in surprise, looking around to see what had happened, and then her gaze met Sunghoon’s.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Sunghoon rushed over, his face flushed with embarrassment as he crouched down, frantically gathering the fallen books.
Wonyoung blinked, surprised but not upset. Instead, she let out a soft, melodic laugh, one that sent a strange warmth spreading through Sunghoon’s chest. “It’s fine, really,” she said, kneeling down beside him to help. Her voice was calm, soothing in a way that immediately put him at ease.
As their hands brushed against each other’s while picking up the books, Sunghoon felt an inexplicable spark, something he hadn’t felt in a long time—if ever. His heart seemed to stutter in his chest, and he found himself looking up at her just as she glanced in his direction. For a split second, their eyes locked, and the world outside the library seemed to fall away, leaving only the soft rustling of pages and the quiet thrum of their own breaths.
“I—uh—really didn’t mean to scare you like that,” Sunghoon stammered, his cheeks burning as he handed her the last book.
“It’s okay,” Wonyoung replied with a gentle smile, taking the book from his hands. Her fingers brushed his again, and he swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sudden rush of warmth that surged through him. “It happens. Libraries are dangerous places, you know.”
Her teasing tone caught him off guard, and Sunghoon found himself smiling despite his awkwardness. “I guess I should be more careful next time.”
“I guess you should,” she replied, her eyes crinkling with amusement. And then, as if the moment wasn’t already too perfect, she stood up, brushing the wrinkles from her skirt. “Thank you for your help…?”
“Sunghoon,” he said quickly, standing up as well, feeling the weight of her gaze on him. “Park Sunghoon.”
“ Jang Wonyoung,” she replied, offering her hand. Her fingers were soft and warm in his, and for a moment, Sunghoon forgot to let go.
In the weeks that followed, their paths seemed to cross more often than not. The library became their shared space, an unspoken agreement between them as they found themselves sitting at the same table day after day, sometimes talking, sometimes just sharing the silence. There was something incredibly peaceful about those moments—something Sunghoon hadn’t realized he’d been missing. With Wonyoung, it was as though the noise of the world faded into the background, leaving only the soft murmur of their voices, the faint rustle of pages turning, and the gentle rhythm of their breaths.
One evening, as the sun set outside, casting a warm, golden hue across the library’s wooden floors, Sunghoon glanced up from his notes and caught Wonyoung watching him. She quickly looked away, her cheeks tinged with a delicate shade of pink. He smiled to himself, feeling his heart flutter in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.
“Do you always study this late?” Wonyoung asked, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.
“Only when I’m trying to impress someone,” Sunghoon replied, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Her eyes widened In surprise, and then a soft laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, really? And how’s that going for you?”
Sunghoon’s pulse quickened. He met her gaze, the playfulness in her eyes stirring something deep within him. “I’m not sure. You tell me.”
There was a pause—a brief, charged moment where neither of them spoke. The air between them seemed to thicken, the space narrowing until it felt like the world outside the library didn’t exist anymore. Wonyoung’s lips parted, as if she was about to say something, but instead, she simply smiled—a soft, almost shy smile that made Sunghoon’s heart skip a beat.
“I think you’re doing okay,” she said finally, her voice barely more than a whisper.
From that moment on, something between them shifted. The gentle teasing, the fleeting glances, the way her hand lingered just a second too long when they passed each other a book—it all added up to something undeniable. The library wasn’t just a place for studying anymore; it had become a sanctuary, a place where the two of them could retreat from the world and simply exist together.
One evening, after they had packed up their things and were walking out into the cool evening air, Sunghoon finally worked up the courage to ask.
“Do you want to get dinner?” he asked, his voice soft but steady, his eyes locked on hers.
Wonyoung paused, a look of surprise flickering across her face. And then, slowly, she smiled. “I’d like that.”
Dinner turned into a long walk through the city. The streets of Seoul were bathed in a soft, amber glow from the streetlights, casting shadows that danced along the pavement as they strolled side by side. The noise of the city—the honking cars, the distant chatter, the hum of neon signs—faded into the background as they wandered through narrow alleyways and across quiet bridges.
At some point, their hands brushed together, and Sunghoon felt his breath catch in his throat. It was a small, fleeting moment, but it sent a shockwave through him, a pulse of electricity that seemed to flow from his fingertips to his heart.
He glanced at Wonyoung, his pulse quickening when he saw the soft smile playing on her lips. Before he could overthink it, before the moment slipped away, he reached out and gently took her hand in his. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Wonyoung looked down at their intertwined fingers, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink, but she didn’t pull away.
Instead, she tightened her grip just slightly, her thumb brushing softly against his.
The city felt different that night—alive in a way it hadn’t been before. The lights seemed brighter, the air crisper, and everything around them seemed to hum with possibility. As they walked, hand in hand, Sunghoon realized just how much he had come to care for Wonyoung. It wasn’t just the way she smiled at him, or the way her laughter seemed to light up the darkest corners of his heart. It was the way she made him feel—like he was no longer invisible, no longer on the outside looking in.
They reached the Han River, its surface glistening under the moonlight, reflecting the city’s lights like a thousand tiny stars. Wonyoung stopped, turning to face him, her eyes shining with a softness that made Sunghoon’s heart ache in the best way possible.
“Sunghoon,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the river lapping gently against the shore.
He stepped closer, his hand still holding hers, their bodies just inches apart. “Yeah?”
“I’m really glad we met,” she said, her cheeks flushed, her gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before she looked back up at him, her eyes filled with something tender, something vulnerable.
Sunghoon smiled, his heart swelling with warmth. “Me too.”
And then, before he could second-guess himself, before he could let the moment slip away, he leaned in and kissed her. It was soft, tentative at first, his lips brushing against hers like a whisper. But the moment her lips responded, pressing gently against his, everything else faded away. The world, the city, the river—it all dissolved, leaving only the warmth of her kiss and the steady rhythm of their hearts beating in sync.
When they finally pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other’s, both of them breathless and smiling, Sunghoon realized something. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t running away from anything. He wasn’t escaping. He was here, fully present, and he wanted to stay.
Life in Seoul began to take on a rhythm for Sunghoon, one that was vastly different from the quiet, familiar routine he had known in Daegu. The days were busy, filled with lectures, study groups, and occasional late-night trips to convenience stores. But it was the evenings—the time he spent with Wonyoung and his new friends—that began to define his life here.
For Sunghoon, now Seoul feels more like home than Daegu ever. Sunghoon has found his little family here; Jay, who considers Sunghoon the bane of his existence as well as his best friend whom he would die for, Jungwon, Jay’s boyfriend who is probably the wisest person Sunghoon has ever known and Riki, a Japanese transfer student they have adopted somewhere along the way. And maybe that is why, Sunghoon had decided to go to Japan with Riki and his friends last summer instead of going to Jeju like he usually would. The last he had seen Heeseung and Jake was a year ago.
But then there was Wonyoung. She had a way of turning even the most mundane moments into something special. Whether they were grabbing coffee after class or taking long walks through the crowded streets of Hongdae, Sunghoon felt an unspoken connection growing between them, something deeper than words. The more time they spent together, the more he realized that Wonyoung wasn’t just a fleeting part of his life in Seoul. She was becoming his anchor.
One late evening, they sat side by side on a bench near the Han River, their breaths visible in the crisp autumn air. Wonyoung had leaned her head on Sunghoon’s shoulder, her fingers tracing absent patterns on his hand. The city’s lights flickered on the water, casting shimmering reflections that danced with the flow of the river.
“I never thought I’d enjoy the city as much as I do,” Sunghoon admitted, his voice soft, thoughtful. “It felt so big at first, like it was too much.”
Wonyoung smiled, her eyes closed as she nestled closer to him. “Seoul can be overwhelming,” she agreed. “But it’s also full of possibilities.”
It was true. The city felt alive, always moving, always offering something new—a stark contrast to the quiet familiarity of Daegu. Sunghoon thought back to his days in his small hometown, where time seemed to move slower, the streets more predictable. There was something comforting about Daegu, but it no longer felt like a place where he belonged. Not like Seoul did now.
As the weeks passed, his days in Daegu began to feel distant, like they belonged to someone else. The group chats with Heeseung and Jake that used to be filled with jokes and plans for the weekend were now mostly silent. Every once in a while, Heeseung would send a message, or Jake would share a funny meme, and Sunghoon found himself replying with a laughing emoji or something. There was the occasional updates and the obligatory wishes on each other’s birthdays.
There was always something happening in Seoul—an impromptu dinner with Jay, a weekend trip to the amusement park with Wonyoung, Riki, and Jungwon, or even just a late-night study session in a café that turned into hours of conversation. Sunghoon was always moving, always surrounded by people, and it was easy to get lost in the energy of it all.
One weekend, Sunghoon sat in his small apartment, his laptop open in front of him as he tried to focus on his assignments. It was quiet for once—Wonyoung had plans with her friends, and Jay had gone home to visit his family. As the silence stretched on, Sunghoon’s thoughts drifted back to Daegu, to the weekends he used to spend with Jake and Heeseung. He picked up his phone, scrolling through old photos—pictures of the three of them at the arcade, messing around by the river, or grabbing late-night snacks from the convenience store.
A wave of nostalgia hit him, the memories of their friendship making his chest tighten. He hadn’t spoken to Heeseung in weeks—hadn’t even thought about reaching out. Jake, too, had become more of a memory than a constant presence. Sunghoon stared at the group chat, his thumb hovering over the message box, but after a long moment, he sighed and set the phone down.
He told himself he was just busy. University was demanding, and between his studies and his new friendships, it was hard to find the time. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t just about time. It was easier this way—easier to let the distance grow, easier to pretend that Daegu was a part of his past, not his present.
Wonyoung noticed the change too, though she never pushed him to talk about it. She could sense when his mind wandered, when his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. One evening, as they sat together in a cozy café, she gently touched his hand.
“You seem distant lately,” she said, her voice soft but concerned. “Is everything okay?”
Sunghoon looked at her, his heart squeezing at the sight of her worried expression. She always knew when something was on his mind, even before he did. “Yeah,” he said, though the word felt heavy, unconvincing. He paused, taking a deep breath. “It’s just… I haven’t talked to my friends from Daegu in a while.”
Wonyoung nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Trying to keep up with people when your lives are moving in different directions.”
Sunghoon let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of her words. “Yeah. I didn’t think it would be, but it’s like… they’re living their own lives now, and I’m living mine. And sometimes, I don’t know if there’s still room for each other in those lives.”
Wonyoung squeezed his hand gently. “It’s okay to grow apart. It doesn’t mean you don’t care about them. Sometimes, people drift, and it’s no one’s fault.”
Her words were soothing, but they didn’t take away the quiet ache in Sunghoon’s chest. He thought about Heeseung’s last message, something about a local soccer game, and how he hadn’t even replied. Jake had sent him a picture from a recent hangout, the two of them smiling without him. They didn’t mention it, but he could feel the distance—an unspoken understanding that he wasn’t part of that world anymore.
It was strange how quickly things had changed. A year ago, Sunghoon couldn’t have imagined his life without Heeseung and Jake. They had been his constants, the friends he thought he’d have forever. But now, as he sat across from Wonyoung, her presence warm and grounding, he realized that maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe forever wasn’t about staying in the same place, but about moving forward, even if it meant leaving some things behind.
As fall approached, the pace of life in Seoul didn’t slow down. Sunghoon’s days blurred into a mix of studying, hanging out with friends, and quiet moments with Wonyoung. The holidays were around the corner, and he knew he’d eventually have to go back to Daegu, even if just for a short visit.
But the idea of going back stirred something uneasy inside him. Would Heeseung and Jake still be the same? Would their friendships pick up where they left off, or would the distance between them be too much to bridge?
One night, as he sat on the rooftop of his apartment building with Jay and Riki, the cold air biting at his skin, Sunghoon found himself opening up to them in a way he hadn’t expected.
“I’m supposed to go back to Daegu for the holidays,” Sunghoon said, staring up at the clear night sky. “But I don’t know if I want to.”
Jay glanced at him, his expression thoughtful. “Why not? It’s your hometown, right?”
“Yeah, but…” Sunghoon hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “I haven’t talked to my friends there in a while. I feel like I’m drifting away from them.”
Riki, who had been quietly sipping his drink, spoke up. “It happens, man. I think it’s normal. I am barely in contact with my friends from Japan. People grow apart, especially when they’re not living in the same place anymore.”
Sunghoon nodded, though the ache in his chest remained. “It just feels weird, you know? Like… I’m starting a whole new life here, and they’re not part of it.”
Jay sighed, his breath visible in the cold air. “That’s how it goes sometimes. But if you really care about them, you can still keep them in your life, even if things are different. It just takes effort.”
Sunghoon didn’t reply, his thoughts swirling as he stared down at the city below. Seoul was his world now, his reality. But Daegu—Heeseung and Jake—they were still part of him, even if that part was slowly fading. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to let go completely, but for now, the pull of the present was stronger than the ties of the past.
______________
Sunghoon was sitting at his desk, a gentle hum of the city life outside filtering through the open window. The afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden glow as he glanced over at Wonyoung, who was lying on his bed, her eyes closed in peaceful relaxation. He smiled to himself, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. Life in Seoul had turned out better than he had imagined.
He had just reached for his phone to scroll through his messages when it rang—an unfamiliar number lighting up the screen. He frowned, hesitation pulling at him before answering.
“Hello?”
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a shaky breath. The voice that came through was raw, heavy with something dark. “Sunghoon…”
Sunghoon stiffened instantly. Heeseung.
“Heeseung?” His heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t heard from him in months. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Another shaky breath. The silence on the line dragged, each second stretching into an eternity. Then, finally, Heeseung’s voice cracked through, a breaking dam of emotion that sent a chill down Sunghoon’s spine.
“Jake’s dead.”
The words hit Sunghoon like a freight train. His breath caught in his throat, the world tilting on its axis. “What…?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Heeseung, what are you talking about?”
“He killed himself, Sunghoon,” Heeseung choked out, his voice a ragged edge, filled with a mixture of anguish and disbelief. “Jake’s gone.”
Sunghoon felt the phone slip from his hand, hitting the desk with a dull thud as his mind struggled to process the words. Jake… gone? His chest tightened, and a wave of nausea surged through him. This couldn’t be real. It felt like a nightmare, the kind that leaves you gasping for air in the middle of the night. But he was awake, and the words lingered in the air, unshakable.
“What?” Sunghoon’s voice cracked as he grasped for something, anything to make sense of what Heeseung had just said. “No… no, that’s not possible. How? Why? Heeseung… why?”
Heeseung’s sobs echoed through the phone, and for the first time, Sunghoon realized just how fragile his friend sounded. “I don’t know! I don’t know why… I—” His voice broke completely. “I found him this morning… he didn’t leave a note, nothing.”
The world felt distant, muffled, like he was hearing everything through thick fog. Sunghoon’s chest felt like it was caving in, his heart pounding wildly as panic clawed its way up his throat. Jake. His Jake. The one he’d known for years, the one who always seemed to have a smile no matter what. The friend who had been part of every memory, who had been a constant in his life. Gone.
He glanced at Wonyoung, who had now sat up, worry etched across her features as she watched him with concern. Her eyes searched his face for answers, but all he could do was shake his head in disbelief. “No,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “This can’t be happening.”
“Please, Sunghoon… come back,” Heeseung’s voice sounded hollow, drained of all hope. “We need you here. I can’t do this alone.”
Sunghoon swallowed hard, his throat dry, his mind spinning with questions, confusion, and a growing sense of dread. He felt the weight of Heeseung’s words, the desperate plea behind them. And in that moment, Sunghoon knew that he couldn’t stay in Seoul. He couldn’t pretend his life here was separate from everything he had left behind in Daegu.
“I’m coming,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice thick with grief. “I’ll be there.”
Heeseung didn’t say anything more before the line went dead. Sunghoon stood there for a moment, frozen, the silence in the room deafening. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the reality he couldn’t escape.
Wonyoung moved closer, her face pale as she gently touched his arm. “Sunghoon, what happened?”
He looked at her, his eyes wide with shock, tears threatening to spill over. “Jake…” He struggled to get the words out, his throat tight. “He’s gone, Wonyoung. Heeseung just told me. Jake killed himself.”
Her eyes widened in horror, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my God…”
Sunghoon’s hands began to shake uncontrollably. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “How did it come to this? How did I not see it?”
Wonyoung wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, her embrace the only thing keeping him grounded in that moment. He buried his face in her shoulder, the sobs finally breaking free as the reality of Jake’s death crashed down around him. Grief tore through him, violent and overwhelming, leaving him gasping for breath.
“I should have been there,” he choked out. “I should have known… I left them.”
Wonyoung stroked his back gently, her voice soothing despite the tremor in it. “You couldn’t have known, Sunghoon. None of us could. It’s not your fault.”
But Sunghoon couldn’t shake the guilt, the gnawing sense that he had abandoned his friends when they needed him most. He had left Daegu for a new life in Seoul, leaving behind the people who had been there for him. And now, Jake was gone. Forever.
“I have to go back,” he said quietly, pulling away from her embrace. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was firm with resolution. “I have to be there for Heeseung. I owe them that much.”
Wonyoung nodded, her eyes soft with understanding. “We’ll go together. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Sunghoon swallowed hard, grateful for her support but feeling the heavy weight of the journey ahead. The life he had built in Seoul suddenly felt distant, insignificant compared to the loss that now hung over him. He had to face the past he had tried to leave behind, even if it meant confronting the grief, the guilt, and the pain that came with it.As he stood there, the late afternoon light fading around him, Sunghoon felt the walls of his carefully constructed life begin to crack and he wasn’t sure how he was going to hold it all together.
The Daegu station feels different even though it’s exactly the same since the last time Sunghoon was here. For once, there’s no Heeseung waiting. When Sunghoon had texted him saying he was coming back for the funereal, he was just met with silence.
“Waah I feel like I can already breathe better” Jay says, beside him. Jungwon hums and agree with him.
“Is your friend coming or should we get a cab?” Riki asks him.
When Sunghoon had told his friends everything and how he had to go to Daeugu immediately, Jay had wanted to accompany him. His parents were on a Europe trip and he had nothing better to do anyway. Jungwon’s parents live in Seoul and he sees them all the time so he also tagged along. Leaving Riki alone in the city was a safety hazard so they brought him along too. Wonyoung’s family was coming to Seoul for the weekend for her cousin’s wedding so she said she would join them later on.
Sunghoon sighs “I think we should get a cab”
Ever since that night, Sunghoon has tried to talk to Heeseung multiple times but he was met with silence or curt responses. Maybe he had a lot on his plate, Heeseung was obviously grieving but something in Sunghoon’s gut told him that Heeseung was angry at him.
“Sunghoon-hyung” a voice called him suddenly. Sunghoon turned around and saw a blob of pink hair.
“Sunoo hey, what are you doing here?” Sunghoon asks as he hugs him.
“Sorry I am late, hyung told me you were coming today. Are these your city friends? Sunoo asks.
“Yeah this is Jay, Jungwon and Riki” Sunghoon introduces them.
“Hi I am Sunoo, it’s a pleasure to meet you” Sunoo says shakes as he shakes their hands. And if Sunghoon notices the extra long gaze Sunoo and Riki share while they shook their hands, Sunghoon decides not to comment.
Sunoo and Sunghoon have been neighbours since they were kids. Their parents have been best friends since their childhood and Sunghoon have grown up as brothers.
“Are you guys hungry, we can stop by to get some food” Sunoo asks in the car to which Riki immediately agrees.
They stop at the Choi’s diner. Soobin is working at the register as usual, everything is the same and yet everything is different.
“Sunghoon-ah hey” Soobin says as he sees him. There’s a hint of sorrow in his voice, a lilt of sympathy which says “ I am sorry your best friend is dead”
“Hey Hyung” Sunghoon replies “ uh these are my friends from Seoul”
Soobin smiles at them kindly and takes their order as they settle in their seats. 3 highschoolers are sitting on the usual seat that Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jake used to occupy. Sunghoon feels a lump form in his throat, it’s never going to three of them again. He will never see Jake again, never be able to laugh with him again, never be able to ask him for advice again. He is just gone, without any sign. Sunghoon looks at his chocolate milkshake, it used to both his and Jake’s favourite. Sunghoon doesn’t think he can ever drink it again.
Grief has always been complicated to Sunghoon. He isn’t much of a crier, he has trouble with wording his feelings. Grief to Sunghoon is numbing like one moment he is standing and next moment he is drowning. The day after Sunghoon got the news, he woke up like usual, made his usual coffee, met his professor about the internship as an assistant researcher. He went to work, doing his usual shift at the coffee shop, he laughed at his coworker’s jokes. But he felt a lump in his throat everyday, his fidgeting got worse till blood came off his skin.
Wonyoung had gently cleaned his wound, saying nothing.
“Do you think I am a bad friend?” Sunghoon had asked
“Oppa of course not” Wonyoung had replied immediately.
“how could he do something like this? Why couldn’t he have talked to someone? Why did he have to die?” Sunghoon had asked. He didn’t know who he was asking, maybe God or whatever higher entity that exists, maybe Jake himself.
Wonyoung had pulled him into a hug, patting his back in comfort. Sunghoon closed his eyes, hoping the tears would come out. He wanted to cry, scream and probably demand Jake for answers. But Jake was gone and he all Sunghoon was left with was this sense of emptiness.
“How’s Heeseung hyung holding up?” Sunghoon asks Sunoo.
“He is trying” Sunoo replies.
Sunghoon doesn’t ask further, doesn’t know what ask.
Sunghoon is trying too.
He just doesn’t know what he is trying.
To let go and move on?
Or to hold on.
----------------------
Sunghoon is standing admist an empty field, a spring breeze hitting his face. Someone is calling his name
“Sunghoon-ah” it’s Jake’s voice. Sunghoon turns around, and there he is , smiling and waving at him. Sunghoon feels himself smiling
“Come on, Heeseung hyung is waitng for us” and then he is running way.
Sunghoon chases after him.
“Ikeu wait for me, don’t run so fast” Sunghoon shouts. But Jake does not listen, he runs away faster until Sunghoon can’t see him anymore.
“Jake?” Sunghoon calls again “ Jake!”
“Don’t leave me” Sunghoon shouts. But Jake does not comeback.
It’s not sunny anymore, instead it’s raining. Sunghoon is still running and calling for Jake.
But he has vanished into the horizon.
Sunghoon wakes up in cold sweat. He can hear Jay’s loud snoring from where he is sleeping on the ground. Sunghoon checks the time.
3:45am. It’s still dark outside.
Sunghoon gets up, takes his jacket and tiptoes out of the house careful not to wake anyone.
The roads are empty, the town is yet to wake up. Today is supposed to be the funeral. In a few hours, he will have to put on his black suit and say his final goodbyes to one of his closest friend. Sunghoon doesn’t know how.
So he runs.
He runs until he finds himself in front of his old high-school. He wonders how his life would have been if he hadn’t befriended Jake in high-school. If it had been just been him and Heeseung. Would things have been easier?
He feels someone’s presence beside him. He turns around to see Heeseung.
“Hey” Heeseung says
“what are you doing here?” Sunghoon asks, a little surprised.
“ I could ask you the same thing” Heeseung replies.
“Couldn’t sleep” Sunghoon sighs
Heeseung nods in understanding.
“Want to go inside?” he asks
“ Can we?” Sunghoon asks.
Heeseung climbs up the gate and goes to the other side.
“Be quiet” he tells Sunghoon.
Sunghoon follows him quietly .
“ is the terrace door lock still broken?” he asks.
“yup” Heeseung answers.
“wow nothing has changed” Sunghoon says with a laugh.
Heeseung open the terrace door and then looks back at Sunghoon and replies
“ You are wrong, everything has changed”
Sunghoon stops, stunned at Heeseung’s words
“I di-didn’t mean it like that hyung” Sunghoon says.
“I know” Heeseung replies. He offers Sunghoon a cigarette which Sunghoon surprisingly accepts. He rarely smokes, maybe when he is extremely stressed. Wonyoung hates the smell and Jay hates the stench it leaves in the apartment.
But Sunghoon needs one right now.
They sit quietly, blowing the smoke.
“So how are things in Seoul?” Heeseung asks.
“Go-good, I just finished my finals. And I have this internship starting in a month” Sunghoon answers.
“You are here for how long?” Heeseung asks.
“Around 2 weeks” Sunghoon replies.
Heeseung doesn’t say anything in reply.
“What about you, hyung?” Sunghoon asks.
“You know the usual work at the garage” Heeseung says “I work full time now and the money isn’t bad.”
“that’s good” Sunghoon replies and then hesitantly “ How are you holding up?”
“Can we not talk about that? Heeseung answers curtly.
Sunghoon sighs, he doesn’t know who else to talk to this about.
“How’s your girlfriend? Wonyoung right?” Heeseung asks.
Sunghoon feels a smile come to his face when he thinks of her.
“She’s doing well” Sunghoon replies “ she is coming here in a few days, we should hang out together when you don’t have work”
“Jake said she was nice, that she is good for you.” Heeseung says instead.
“ She is. I wish they could have met” Sunghoon sighs.
Heeseung doesn’t say anything. It’s not that dark anymore, the faint light of the sun lighting up the sky.
“ Hyung?” Sunghoon asks. “Can I ask you something?”
Heeseung gives a hum which Sunghoon takes as a yes.
“Did you ever get to tell Jake?” he asks
“tell him what?” Heeseung questions
“that you were in love with him” Sunghoon says.
Heeseung gets up, “I don’t want to talk about this”
“why?” Sunghoon asks.
“ Leave it alone, Sunghoon” Heeseung snaps.
Sunghoon immediately retreats, Heeseung never got angry with him.
“I am sorry” Sunghoon apologizes.
Heeseung sighs “ I have work, I am going”
Sunghoon nods, “I will see you at the funeral”
“ I am not going” Heeseung says.
“What?” Sunghoon asks in surprise “ why?”
“ I don’t want to” Heeseung replies.
“ what do you mean you don’t want to?” Sunghoon questioned. “ He was our best friend Heeseung, don’t you at least want to say goodbye?”
“I have nothing to say to him” Heeseung tells him.
“Why are you behaving like this?” Sunghoon asks
“You won’t get it Sunghoon” Heeseung says.
“That’s cause you won’t bloody talk to me” Sunghoon snaps.
“Talk to you?” Heeseung scoffs “ You fucking left Sunghoon”
“Are you seriously blaming me for wanting to have a better future?” Sunghoon questions.
“oh fuck off, we stopped fitting in your life the moment you went to seoul” Heeseung scoffed.
“ Jake and I kept in touch, it was only you who had a problem”, Sunghoon yells
“That’s cause he idiolized you or some shit. He wanted your life, the rush of city life. The monotonicity of small town life killed him” Heeseung yells back “ he kept hoping you would invite him for that Japan trip last year, but I guess we weren’t cool enough to be a part your life.
“That’s not true, I wanted to invite you guys but we were staying at riki’s place and he wouldn’t have been able to accommodate so many of us. I promised him we would go together the next time” Sunghoon cries out
“This is all your fault” his mind tells him. “ You killed him”
“Keep your empty fucking promises to yourself” Heeseung scoffs.
“ Shut the fuck up” Sunghoon screams “ Yes I left , yes I got a life outside of this town, but I never stopped reaching out. I called on every single one of your birthdays, checked up on both of you for months. But you couldn’t even bear to give me two seconds of your time since Jake arrived. When was the last time you called? Jake and you were much closer? So why couldn’t you see he was suffering so much. Friends do go through different paths in life all the fucking time, doesn’t mean you end up killing yourself over it”
The next thing Sunghoon feels is him lying on the ground, holding his aching jaw. Heeseung had just punched him.
The punch landed hard, knocking Sunghoon off balance. The sharp pain radiated through his jaw, but it wasn’t the physical blow that hurt the most—it was the look in Heeseung’s eyes. Raw, untamed anger. Grief. Betrayal. All the things Sunghoon hadn’t seen coming.
Sunghoon was on the ground, clutching his jaw as the taste of blood filled his mouth. Heeseung stood in front of him, fists still clenched, his breathing ragged. For a moment, neither of them moved, frozen in the wreckage of what just happened. Then, as if suddenly realizing what he had done, Heeseung’s face twisted, and before Sunghoon could say anything, he turned and bolted.
“Heeseung!” Sunghoon’s voice cracked as he shouted after him, but Heeseung was already running, his figure disappearing down the dimly lit street, consumed by the fog of the dawn. Sunghoon stood there, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind reeling from the suddenness of it all.
The cold autumn air bit at his skin as he pressed his palm to his throbbing jaw, still stunned. He wanted to run after Heeseung, to stop him, to make him listen. But his legs felt frozen, rooted to the spot. The pain in his heart weighed heavier than the one in his face.
Everything had gone so wrong, so fast.
The day had started with tension, both of them barely holding it together as they stood in the shadow of Jake’s death. But he hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected Heeseung’s anger to explode so violently. The grief, the guilt, the years of friendship that had crumbled into dust between them—it all led to this moment. Sunghoon stared down the empty street, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.
Heeseung’s voice echoed in his head, the accusations laced with a pain Sunghoon couldn’t ignore. “You left us! You left Jake!”
He had wanted to explain, to tell Heeseung that he had never meant to abandon them, that he hadn’t known how bad things had gotten. But it was too late. The punch said everything Heeseung couldn’t put into words, and now, he was gone.
Sunghoon finally forced his legs to move, stumbling forward a few steps as if he could still catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s retreating form. But the street was empty now, save for the flickering lights of distant cars and the muted hum of the city. Daegu suddenly felt so small, so suffocating. He hadn’t felt this way since the day he left for Seoul, thinking that distance would somehow make things better.
But it hadn’t.
His breath came in short, uneven bursts as he tried to steady himself, shaking off the shock. He couldn’t chase Heeseung—not like this. His mind was a chaotic mess, too clouded by the weight of Jake’s death and the shattered pieces of what used to be a friendship he had cherished.
Sunghoon wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, the metallic taste lingering on his tongue. He could hear footsteps approaching—light, hesitant steps—before Jay, Jungwon, and Riki came into view. Jay had woken up and realised Sunghoon wasn’t home and they had come out to look for him. But now they were here, their faces etched with concern as they took in the scene.
“Sunghoon?” Jay’s voice was soft, cautious, as if he could sense the fragility of the moment. “What happened?”
Sunghoon opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. What had just happened? Heeseung had punched him—he was angry, broken. But there was more beneath the surface, a wound deeper than the physical violence, one Sunghoon hadn’t been able to heal.
“Heeseung…” Sunghoon’s voice wavered as he spoke, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “He blames me. For Jake.”
Jungwon stepped forward, his eyes wide with worry as he placed a gentle hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Heeseung blames you for what?”
Sunghoon shook his head, still trying to piece together the storm of emotions that had erupted. “For leaving… for not being there when Jake needed me. Heeseung thinks… he thinks I abandoned them.”
Jay exchanged a glance with Riki, both of them wearing expressions of unease. Jay stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “Sunghoon, you couldn’t have known.”
“I should have,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice breaking. “I should’ve known something was wrong with Jake. I should’ve stayed in Daegu instead of running away to Seoul like everything would be fine.”
The weight of his own words hung in the air, oppressive and heavy. He had left—he had thought starting fresh would fix everything. But it hadn’t. Jake was gone, and now Heeseung had walked away from him, too.
Jay’s hand tightened on Sunghoon’s shoulder, a gesture of reassurance. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Sunghoon. Coming to Seoul was important for your future.”
Sunghoon blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. His friends were here, standing with him, but it didn’t change the fact that a part of him was breaking under the weight of guilt. Heeseung had been right—he had left. And now, it felt like he had lost everything.
Riki’s soft voice broke the silence. “Do you want to go after him?”
Sunghoon shook his head slowly, his gaze fixed on the spot where Heeseung had disappeared. “No… not right now.” He couldn’t face Heeseung again, not with things this raw, this broken. “He needs time. And so do I.”
Jay sighed softly, pulling Sunghoon closer, offering a quiet comfort that Sunghoon didn’t know how to accept. “We’re here for you, whatever you need.”
Sunghoon nodded, grateful for the support even though the ache in his chest remained. He wanted to believe that things could be fixed, that he and Heeseung could heal what had been shattered. But right now, the only thing Sunghoon could focus on was the emptiness in his heart—the absence of Jake and the hollow space where his friendship with Heeseung had once been.
And so, they stood in silence, the cool autumn air wrapping around them as Sunghoon tried to figure out how to mend the pieces of his life that felt too broken to fix.
____________________
Sunghoon sat at the edge of his bed, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the chipped wallpaper. The dim light cast soft shadows around the room, but it felt cold, distant—like everything else lately. His jaw still throbbed from the punch, a dull reminder of the chaos that had unfolded just a few hours earlier. He’d replayed the moment in his mind over and over, trying to understand how it had come to this. How he had lost both Jake and, now, Heeseung.
The door creaked open softly, and Wonyoung stepped inside. She had arrived to daegu in the morning. Sunghoon had wanted to go to the train station but Jay and Jungwon had gone instead, saying Wonyoung would only worry more if she sees his bruised face. Wonyoung had not asked him about Heeseung when she arrived, Jay had probably filled her in and she has opted to give him space. Sunghoon had appreciated it, but he knew she wouldn’t stay silent forever. She never did. Wonyoung always knew when he needed to talk, even when he didn’t want to.
She sat down beside him, her warmth a stark contrast to the chilly room. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. She gently reached out and touched his jaw, her fingers grazing the tender bruise left behind by Heeseung’s punch.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, her voice a gentle whisper in the heavy silence.
Sunghoon winced slightly at the contact but shook his head. “Not really,” he lied. The truth was, the physical pain was the least of his worries.
Wonyoung sighed, pulling her hand back as her eyes searched his face. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Sunghoon. I can see how much this is hurting you.”
He swallowed, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. She was right. He didn’t have to pretend with her. Wonyoung knew him better than anyone, and he knew she wouldn’t let him keep everything bottled up.
“It’s not just the punch,” he said finally, his voice low. “It’s everything. It’s Jake. It’s Heeseung. It’s…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to find the words to explain the storm that had been raging inside him since the moment Heeseung called.
Wonyoung waited patiently, her presence a quiet comfort as she leaned into him slightly, her shoulder brushing against his. “You’ve been holding all of this in since we got here. You don’t have to carry it alone, Sunghoon. Let me in.”
Her words broke through the walls he had been trying to keep up, and suddenly, the weight of it all felt too much to bear. He let out a shaky breath, his hands curling into fists in his lap as he tried to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill for hours.
“I wasn’t here,” he whispered, the guilt pressing down on him like a suffocating wave. “I left them, Young-ah. Jake needed me, and I wasn’t here. And now Heeseung—he hates me for it. He blames me.”
Wonyoung’s hand found his, her fingers gently prying his fist open and slipping hers inside, her touch grounding him. “Sunghoon, you couldn’t have known what was happening with Jake. No one could.”
“But I should have,” he replied, his voice breaking as the flood of emotions overwhelmed him. “Heeseung was right. I left. I left them behind when they needed me most. I thought I was doing what was best for myself, but I didn’t think about what it would do to them.”
Wonyoung shook her head gently, her dark eyes filled with empathy as she looked at him. “You didn’t leave them to hurt them. You went to Seoul to chase your own dreams. That doesn’t make you a bad person, Sunghoon. You weren’t running away from them—you were trying to find yourself.”
Sunghoon looked down at their intertwined hands, Wonyoung’s words washing over him like a soothing balm. But the guilt still gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving. “But Jake… he’s gone. And I’ll never get the chance to make it right with him. I’ll never get to tell him I’m sorry.”
Wonyoung’s grip tightened around his hand, her voice soft but firm. “Jake’s death isn’t your fault, Sunghoon. It’s not Heeseung’s fault, either. Sometimes, no matter how much we love someone, we can’t always save them from their pain. You couldn’t have known what was going on in Jake’s head. And beating yourself up about it isn’t going to bring him back.”
Sunghoon felt the tears he had been holding back start to slip down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, ashamed of the vulnerability he felt creeping up inside him. But Wonyoung didn’t let go. She leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder, her voice steady and comforting.
“I know it feels like everything is falling apart right now,” she murmured, “but you still have people who care about you. Jay, Jungwon, Riki… and me. We’re all here, Sunghoon. And so is Heeseung, even if he’s hurting right now.”
Sunghoon let out a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension in his chest ease just slightly. He knew she was right. He wasn’t alone, even though it felt like his world was crumbling beneath him. Heeseung’s anger, Jake’s death—it was all too much to process, but Wonyoung’s presence was a lifeline, keeping him from drowning in it.
“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
Wonyoung lifted her head and turned to face him, her eyes filled with gentle understanding. “You don’t have to fix everything right now. Sometimes, healing takes time. And Heeseung… he’s grieving, just like you are. Give him the space he needs, and when the time is right, you’ll talk. But for now, you need to focus on taking care of yourself.”
Sunghoon nodded, knowing she was right, even if it didn’t make the weight of everything feel any lighter. He pressed his hand to his jaw again, wincing slightly at the lingering pain.
“I must look ridiculous right now,” he muttered, half-laughing through the tears.
Wonyoung smiled softly, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “You look like someone who’s been through a lot, but who’s still standing. And that’s what matters.”
Her words struck a chord deep within him, and for the first time since Jake’s death, Sunghoon felt a small flicker of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, letting her warmth seep into him.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Wonyoung’s eyes softened, and she pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “You don’t have to think about that. I’m not going anywhere.”
They sat in silence for a while after that, the weight of the day settling between them. But with Wonyoung by his side, the grief felt a little less suffocating, the guilt a little less unbearable.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sunghoon allowed himself to breathe.
-------------
The air was thick with a somber silence as Sunghoon stepped into the church, his heart heavy with dread. It was the kind of silence that felt deafening, wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. He stood at the entrance for a moment, staring at the rows of pews already filled with faces he recognized from his past—classmates, neighbors, people from the small town in Daegu who had known Jake in some way or another.
But none of them really knew him, not like Sunghoon did.
Sunghoon’s eyes traveled forward to the front of the church, where Jake’s casket rested. It was simple, understated—just like Jake had been. The sight of it hit Sunghoon like a tidal wave, his breath catching in his throat as reality set in once again. Jake was really gone. There would be no waking up from this nightmare, no going back to how things were before.
He swallowed hard, forcing his feet to move. Each step felt like a monumental effort, as though the weight of his grief was pressing down on him with every passing second. Wonyoung walked beside him, her hand gently resting on his arm, offering silent support. Jay, Jungwon, and Riki followed close behind, their faces drawn with solemnity.
But it was Sunghoon who felt the full brunt of the loss. Jake had been his friend since high school, a part of his life for so long that it was hard to imagine a world without him in it. And now, here he was, standing at Jake’s funeral, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible.
The scent of flowers filled the air—lilies and roses, their sweet perfume clashing with the bitter sting of grief. Sunghoon hated it. The flowers, the quiet murmurs of people offering their condolences, the preacher's solemn voice—it all felt wrong. Jake wasn’t supposed to be gone. He wasn’t supposed to be lying in that coffin, reduced to a memory.
Sunghoon reached the front of the church, his gaze finally landing on the casket. His knees felt weak, but he stood still, his heart pounding in his chest. The lump in his throat made it hard to breathe, let alone speak, but he knew he had to say something. He owed Jake that much—one final goodbye, one last chance to make things right, even if Jake could no longer hear him.
Wonyoung gave his arm a gentle squeeze before stepping back, giving him the space he needed. Sunghoon took a shaky breath, his eyes stinging with unshed tears as he stepped closer to the casket. He placed a trembling hand on the cool, polished wood, his fingers brushing against the surface as if hoping to feel some sign of life—something, anything that would tell him Jake wasn’t really gone.
But there was nothing. Just the cold, unyielding reality of death.
Sunghoon lowered his head, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Jake.”
The words felt inadequate, too small to contain the vastness of his guilt and sorrow. But they were all he had. His chest tightened as the tears finally began to fall, hot and relentless, streaking down his cheeks as he tried to hold himself together.
“I should have been there for you,” he continued, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. “I should’ve known something was wrong. I shouldn’t have left you and Heeseung. I thought… I thought leaving would fix things, but I was wrong.”
He paused, his breath hitching as he struggled to find the right words. What could he possibly say that would make up for the years of distance, the silence between them, the moments he had missed? Nothing. Nothing could ever make it right.
“You were my friend,” Sunghoon whispered, his hand pressing harder against the casket as if the contact could bridge the chasm between life and death. “And I loved you, Jake. We all did. I just wish I could’ve told you that while you were still here.”
His heart ached with the weight of unsaid words, the regret of not reaching out enough, never asking if Jake was okay. He had been so caught up in his own life, in building a future in Seoul, that he hadn’t seen the cracks forming in Jake’s life. And now, it was too late.
The room around him seemed to blur as his emotions overtook him. His knees buckled slightly, but he held onto the casket, steadying himself. Sunghoon didn’t care about the people watching, the polite silence that filled the church. In this moment, it was just him and Jake—a goodbye he never wanted to say.
“I miss you,” he said, his voice barely audible. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most.”
He felt a soft touch on his back, and when he glanced up, Heeseung stood a few feet away, his face etched with grief. He had come after all and that gave Sunghoon a little peace.Their eyes met, and for a second, Sunghoon wasn’t sure what to expect. But there was no anger in Heeseung’s expression now, no blame. Just pain—raw and unfiltered. The same pain Sunghoon felt.
Heeseung didn’t say anything, but the look they shared spoke volumes. They were both grieving, both drowning in the loss of someone they had loved deeply. And despite everything—the fight, the punch, the years of gradual distance—they were still bounded by that love.
Sunghoon swallowed hard, wiping his tears with the back of his hand as he took a step back from the casket. Heeseung moved forward, standing where Sunghoon had just been, and for a moment, they were side by side, united in their shared grief.
Sunghoon turned to Wonyoung, who reached for his hand, her grip warm and reassuring. He gave her a small, grateful nod, thankful for her quiet strength.
Together, they stepped away, allowing Heeseung his moment to say goodbye. Sunghoon wasn’t sure what the future held for him and Heeseung, whether their friendship could be salvaged, or if the weight of Jake’s death would forever stand between them. But for now, they had shared this moment, and that was enough.
As Sunghoon walked toward the exit of the church, the weight in his chest remained, but there was a small, flickering hope that maybe—just maybe—they could find a way to heal.
But for now, it was time to say goodbye to Jake, and let the pain of that loss settle deep within him, where it would stay for a long time to come.
---------------------------------------------
The train ride back to Seoul felt like an eternity. Sunghoon stared out of the window, watching the landscape blur by—a mix of green hills and gray buildings, the scenery reflecting the turmoil within him. It had been 2 weeks since Jake's funeral, and the weight of grief still clung to him like a second skin. He felt raw, exposed, and profoundly lonely, even amidst the thrumming energy of the city he had come to love.
As the train approached the station, he thought about everything that had changed. He had moved to Seoul to find himself, his heart still heavy with grief. It feels as if he has left a part of himself in Daegu
Stepping off the train, he was greeted by the familiar chaos of Seoul, the air filled with the sounds of bustling crowds and distant honking. Sunghoon took a deep breath, letting the city’s energy wash over him, but it did little to alleviate the heaviness in his heart. But he still continued to live his life, he went to classes, hung out with his friends, went on dates with Wonyoung. He signed himself up for weekly therapy sessions, with Wonyoung’s encouragement. Talking to a professional and accepting his grief helped him slowly start mending the void in his chest.
And like that, a year passed since Jake’s death.
It was one afternoon when he was studying alone in his room, his phone buzzed on the coffee table. He glanced at it, expecting to see a message from Wonyoung or one of his college friends. Instead, his heart skipped a beat when he saw the name flashing on the screen: Heeseung.
It took him a moment to process, his breath catching in his throat. A year had passed since they last spoke—since that fight, that punch, the funeral. Sunghoon hesitated, uncertainty gnawing at him. Should he answer? Was this really the right time?
With a deep breath, he swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Sunghoon?” Heeseung’s voice came through, a mix of hesitance and relief. It sounded different, layered with emotions that had built up over the year.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Sunghoon replied, his heart racing. “How have you been?”
There was a long pause on the other end, and Sunghoon could almost hear Heeseung gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been okay. It’s been… a lot to handle, you know?”
Sunghoon nodded, even though Heeseung couldn’t see him. “I get that. I’ve missed you. It’s been really hard without you guys.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Heeseung admitted, his voice softening. “I’ve thought about reaching out so many times, but… I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me.”
The honesty in Heeseung's words struck Sunghoon. “I wanted to, but I felt like I had lost my place in your life. It felt wrong to intrude after everything that happened.”
“I should’ve reached out sooner,” Heeseung said, regret evident in his tone. “I guess I was just afraid of how you’d react. After Jake… everything fell apart for me. And I blamed you for leaving. But I realize now that I was just hurting.”
Sunghoon’s heart ached at the confession. “I should have been there, Heeseung. I should have stayed. I never meant to abandon you or Jake. I thought I was doing what was best for me, but I only made things worse.”
“I know,” Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wish we could’ve talked about it then, but it all happened so fast. And with Jake gone… I didn’t know how to process any of it. I still don’t, really.”
Silence enveloped them, thick with shared grief and unspoken words. Sunghoon’s mind raced as he tried to find a way to bridge the chasm that had formed between them. “Do you want to meet up? Maybe we can talk? I don’t want us to be like this anymore.”
Heeseung let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. “I’d like that. I really would.”
They agreed on a small café not far from where Sunghoon lived, a cozy place that served the best coffee in the neighborhood. As Sunghoon walked there, his mind raced with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. What would they say to each other after everything that had happened?
When he arrived, Heeseung was already seated at a table in the corner, his gaze fixed on the window. He looked different—more worn, like the weight of the world had settled onto his shoulders. Sunghoon hesitated at the entrance for a moment, watching as Heeseung absentmindedly stirred his coffee, lost in thought.
Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon approached the table. Heeseung looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. The moment hung between them, thick with unspoken words and memories.
“Hey,” Sunghoon said, sliding into the chair opposite Heeseung.
“Hey,” Heeseung replied, his voice low. The tension in the air was palpable, and Sunghoon could feel the distance that still lingered between them.
Silence stretched out, each second feeling like an eternity. Sunghoon opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he looked down at the table, trying to gather his thoughts.
“I’ve missed you,” he finally said, the honesty of the statement surprising even himself.
Heeseung’s gaze softened, but there was still a wariness in his eyes. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me after everything.”
Sunghoon winced at the truth of that statement. “I didn’t know how to face you. I… I felt cast aside when you and Jake were together. Like I didn’t belong. I thought maybe I was better off in Seoul, but I was wrong.”
Heeseung studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You weren’t cast aside, Sunghoon. I just… I didn’t know how to reach out. Everything got so complicated after you left.”
“Complicated how?” Sunghoon asked, a mix of curiosity and apprehension tinging his voice.
Heeseung shifted in his seat, his fingers tapping nervously against his coffee cup “ I did confess to Jake, you know. But he never gave me an answer. We hooked up a few times and everytime I thought maybe this time he would tell me he he likes me too. But he never did”
Sunghoon’s heart sank at the admission.
Heeseung’s eyes filled with regret as he looked at Sunghoon . “ I thought I would be okay with whatever little he gave me but then I would see how he talked about you. How his eyes would shine with so much admiration and love and an ugly part of me would feel jealous”
“Jake and I were just friends, there was no other feelings that existed between us” Sunghoon replied, the guilt rising again within him. “ but he loved you Heeseung, in his own way he did. But he was probably fighting his own battles that we never knew about. I really wish he had had reached out to us.”
“I get it now,” Heeseung said, his voice softer. “but a year ago, I was angry and hurt. I wanted someone to blame, and you were an easy target. But I realize now that we both lost something important.”
Sunghoon nodded, the ache in his chest beginning to ease slightly. “I lost you, Heeseung. I lost both of you. But I want to find a way back, if you’ll let me.”
Heeseung looked up, his eyes meeting Sunghoon’s with a mix of vulnerability and hope. “I’d like that. I really would.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the air between them shifting, the tension slowly dissipating as they began to mend the fragile threads of their friendship. It wouldn’t be easy, and there would be scars left behind, but they were willing to try.
“I’m sorry for everything, Sunghoon,” Heeseung said finally, his voice earnest. “I should have reached out sooner. We both should have.”
“Let’s start over,” Sunghoon suggested, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “We can take it slow. I don’t want to rush anything.”
Heeseung smiled, the expression genuine and warm. “I’d like that.”
As they began to talk, the conversation flowed more easily than Sunghoon had anticipated. They reminisced about their high school days, shared laughs about their silly memories, and opened up about their fears and hopes.
The café slowly filled with the afternoon crowd, but for Sunghoon and Heeseung, the world outside faded away. In that moment, they were no longer defined by their losses or the mistakes of the past. They were simply two friends, navigating the difficult terrain of grief and healing together.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden light through the café windows, Sunghoon felt a flicker of hope ignite within him. Maybe this was the beginning of something new, something that could be rebuilt stronger than before. Together, they could find their way back to each other, one step at a time.
5 years later
The sun cast a warm golden hue over the picturesque garden as the gentle sound of laughter and soft music filled the air. It had been five years since Sunghoon and Heeseung had started to mend their friendship, and now they stood in a beautiful open space adorned with flowers and twinkling lights, ready to celebrate the love that had blossomed between Sunghoon and Wonyoung.
Guests filled the rows of white chairs, all smiles and glances of affection. Jay and Jungwon stood close by, sharing a moment of their own as they exchanged affectionate whispers. Riki danced around the edges, his excitement contagious as he captured the day’s moments on his camera.
Sunghoon stood at the altar, a vision in his tailored suit, looking dapper yet relaxed. His heart raced, anticipation coursing through him as he waited for Wonyoung. She was everything he had dreamed of—supportive, loving, and a beacon of light that had guided him through some of his darkest days.
Heeseung stood off to the side, a mix of pride and nostalgia welling up inside him. He was honored to be Sunghoon’s best man, a role he had never imagined himself in just a few years prior. Watching Sunghoon and Wonyoung together filled him with warmth, reminding him of how far they had all come. The friendship he had nearly lost had been rebuilt stronger than ever, and now, witnessing this union was a testament to that resilience.
As Wonyoung approached, radiant in her flowing white gown, Sunghoon felt his breath catch. She walked with grace, each step drawing him closer to the moment they would become one. Heeseung’s heart swelled with happiness for his friends, a contentment he had fought hard to reclaim.
As Wonyoung reached the altar, Sunghoon took her hands in his, their fingers intertwining perfectly. They exchanged soft smiles, their eyes filled with love and promise. Jay who was officating th began the ceremony, his voice a soothing backdrop to the heartfelt emotions swirling in the air.
“Today, we are here to celebrate the love between two my closest friends, Sunghoon and Wonyoung,” Jay said, his tone warm and inviting. “They have chosen to write their own vows to express their commitment to each other.”
Sunghoon looked into Wonyoung’s eyes, his heart pounding as he prepared to share his vows. “Wonyoung, from the moment we met, you brought color into my life. You have shown me what true love means. You are my best friend, my confidante, and my greatest support. I promise to stand by you through all of life’s challenges, to laugh with you in times of joy, and to hold your hand through the storms. I will never let go of you, even when we are old and wrinkly and till death do us part. You are my everything, and I choose you today and every day for the rest of my life.”
Tears glistened in Wonyoung’s eyes as she listened, her smile wide and genuine. “Sunghoon, you are my light and my home. You’ve helped me grow in ways I never thought possible. I promise to love you fiercely, to encourage you in all your dreams, and to stand by your side no matter what comes our way. I want to create a life filled with laughter, love, and adventure with you, I want to be by your side till we are grey and old. You are my heart, and I choose you, now and always.”
The air was thick with emotion as the couple exchanged rings, the symbols of their love shining brightly in the sunlight. Jay smiled at them. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Sunghoon leaned in, his heart racing, and pressed his lips against Wonyoung’s in a soft, lingering kiss that felt like the culmination of all their love and dedication. The guests erupted in applause, cheers echoing around the garden as they shared the beautiful moment, sealing their vows with a promise of a lifetime.
Heeseung watched with a heart full of happiness, his own journey of healing reflected in the joy of his friends. He had found peace within himself, realizing that love was not just about holding on but also about letting go—letting go of the past, of the hurt, and of the fears that had once chained him.
At the reception dinner, it was time for the speeches. Heeseung stood up, smoothing the front of his suit as he approached the microphone. He took a deep breath, his heart racing slightly as he faced the audience, a playful smile creeping onto his face.
“Hello, everyone! For those who don’t know me, I’m Heeseung, Sunghoon’s best man and long-time friend,” he began, his voice steady but warm. “I feel incredibly honored to be standing here today, celebrating these lovebirds finally getting married.”
The crowd chuckled softly, and Heeseung smiled, his gaze drifting to Sunghoon and Wonyoung, who were beaming with happiness.
“Now, I’m not going to lie. Being Sunghoon’s best man has its perks, especially today! But it also comes with the responsibility of sharing a few embarrassing stories,” he said, winking at Sunghoon, who groaned playfully.
“Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we? Before he met Wonyoung, Sunghoon was known for being the quietest guy in our group—especially around girls. I remember this one time in high school, he had a huge crush on this girl . He was so nervous about talking to her that he practiced what he would say in front of the mirror for hours. When the moment finally came, all he could manage was a shy ‘hi’ before he turned around and sprinted away!”
The audience erupted in laughter, Sunghoon’s face turning a shade of red as he recalled that embarrassing moment.
“Or how about that time he tried to join the drama club, thinking it would help him break out of his shell? Instead, he ended up forgetting his lines completely on stage and just stood there awkwardly while the rest of us tried to improvise around him. The entire auditorium was filled with laughter—except for Sunghoon, who looked like he was about to faint!”
Heeseung paused for dramatic effect, letting the laughter die down before continuing. “But here’s the thing: those moments are what make Sunghoon, well, Sunghoon. He may have been awkward and shy back then, but that’s part of what makes him so lovable. And look at him now—standing here, marrying the woman of his dreams. He found his voice, his confidence, and it’s all thanks to Wonyoung, who has brought out the very best in him.”
Heeseung looked at Sunghoon, his expression turning sincere. “So, let’s raise our glasses to love, friendship, and new beginnings! May your journey together be filled with laughter, adventure, and endless happiness!”
Amidst the festivities, Heeseung noticed a unfamiliar figure standing alone at the edge of the garden—a man with an easy smile and sparkling eyes, enjoying the celebration from a distance. Their gazes met, and Heeseung felt a flutter in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
As the evening wore on, Heeseung found himself drawn toward the man, their conversation starting with a simple compliment about the wedding. Laughter bubbled between them, and with each exchanged word, Heeseung felt the walls he had built around his heart begin to crumble.
He realized how much he had missed this feeling—being seen, being appreciated. The man’s name was Minho, a friend of a friend, and as they talked, Heeseung discovered a shared passion for music and art that ignited something within him.
“Do you believe in second chances?” Minho asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.
Heeseung thought for a moment, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I do. I think every ending is just a new beginning in disguise.”
The night continued around them, filled with joy and celebration, and Heeseung felt a warmth spreading through him that he had thought was lost forever. There was a spark between them, a connection that felt both exhilarating and comforting.
As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Heeseung found himself gazing into Minho’s eyes, feeling a sense of possibility blooming within him. He knew he was ready to embrace this new chapter, to open his heart again, and to explore where this unexpected connection might lead.
As he stood there, laughter and love surrounding him, Heeseung realized that while Sunghoon and Wonyoung’s love had blossomed beautifully, his own journey was just beginning—one filled with hope, friendship, and the promise of new love.