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Chenle’s confused when Renjun’s laugh suddenly dies out, his face morphing into one of great concern. His own dies out alongside Renjun’s, caught off guard by the sudden change in atmosphere.
“Chenle? What’s wrong?” He asks. Chenle furrows his eyebrows, still unsure of where the question came from.
“What are you talking about?” Chenle asks. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“You’re crying,” Renjun says. “You don’t realize?”
Renjun grabs a napkin off of the table, wiping under Chenle’s eye, and once he pulls it away, it’s wet. Chenle hurries up and takes out his phone, opening the camera.
There are indeed tears streaming down his face.
How did he just start crying without notice? One minute he was okay, and the next moment—
“Ouch!” Chenle shrieks, dropping his phone in shock.
“What the fuck?” Renjun jumps up, panicking. “What’s wrong?”
Chenle grabs his right wrist, writhing from the pain.
“It burns,” Chenle whines. “Fuck!”
Renjun grabs Chenle’s arm. “Wait a minute…”
He grabs Chenle’s left hand, and removes it from his other wrist. That’s when they both notice that the star mark on his wrist is bubbling as if he’s just gotten burned.
“What the fuck, Renjun?” Chenle asks. “What’s happening?”
Chenle looks over to his friend whose mouth is agape.
“Chenle…” Renjun says gently. “You really don’t know what’s happening?”
“No…”
Renjun takes a deep breath in, “This is your soulmate mark, right?”
Chenle nods slowly. He’s stayed pretty blissfully unaware of soulmate culture and research, figuring that things would just fall into place. All he knew was that once he finally met his soulmate, the black star on his wrist would start to change color.
“When it scorches like this,” Renjun takes a deep breath, “it means that your soulmate died.”
✶
Despite it being that hottest summer that Chenle has ever experienced, all he’s been wearing for the past couple of days is long sleeved shirts. The soulmate mark has become scabbed over, and it’s been causing him to receive so many looks of pity. He eventually just couldn’t take the stares anymore, and began putting on long sleeves to cover the mark.
Chenle never gave his soulmate too much thought. They were bound to cross paths one day—so why stress about something so natural? They were born to be together, destined to fall in love. When they met, Chenle would know.
It was never something he bothered to think about, but now that his destined person is gone, thoughts of the mystery person have consumed his mind. What kind of person were they? How would their first meeting have gone? Would it be love at first sight? Rivals to lovers?
He shouldn’t let what can’t be changed torment him the way that it is, but it’s impossible.
Maybe Chenle can go off and find love on his own, but what if that person finds their own soulmate and leaves him?
He can go and seek out a soulmate bereavement group, but that still doesn’t feel right to him.
Maybe Chenle’s making excuses, but he’s not sure what to do in a situation like this.
Everyone in his life is with their soulmate—or their soulmate is at the very least alive. When Chenle looks at the black ribbon on Renjun’s shoulder that’s in no way damaged or scabbed, he remembers that.
“You’re not paying attention to this movie.” Renjun huffs and shuts the TV off, turning to focus his attention on Chenle instead. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Chenle grumbles, reaching for the remote and turning the television on again. “I was watching that.”
“No you weren’t.”
Renjun’s eyes fall to the scorched star on his wrist, which Chenle hasn’t been able to take his hand away from, and sighs.
“It’s okay to grieve.” Renjun’s small hand rubs circles into Chenle’s back. “You haven’t been the same, lately.”
Chenle groans in frustration, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall.
“Grieve over what? I didn’t know them. How do I mourn someone that I never even met?”
“By allowing yourself to be sad.” He pulls Chenle in by his waist, giving him a weak side hug.
Renjun’s being patient with him, very patient. A tactic that he only brings out at Chenle’s worst moments, which only sends him further down the spiral.
Renjun considers this one of his ‘worst’ moments?
“Sad about what?” Chenle brings his sleeve to his eyes, covering them up. It’s to no avail, since he knows that Renjun has already seen the tears starting to drip from them.
“Stop holding it in.” Renjun pulls Chenle’s hand away from his face. “Just cry it out. The person you were destined to spend your life with is dead, Chenle. Just because you didn’t know them doesn’t mean you can’t cry over it.”
Renjun walks over to one of his drawers, and Chenle can only watch as he grabs a box of tissue before pacing back over.
“Cry. You’re sad, so cry. It’ll only help you feel better.”
Maybe Renjun is right, but Chenle can’t accept that.
“It’s not that serious.” Chenle stands up. “I’m going home. I have to walk Daegal.”
“Chenle–”
“Goodbye.”
✶
“Hey.”
The voice is unfamiliar, as is the room that Chenle is in. The red carpeted floor doesn’t bear any resemblance to one that Chenle’s seen before.
“Need help getting up?”
Chenle lifts his head up to the source of the voice.
“Who are you?” It’s a young man, maybe around Chenle’s age—maybe older. He’s fairly attractive, in Chenle’s opinion, and probably the popular one too.
Round eyes stare down at Chenle, a sparkle in them that he swears isn’t humanly possible.
“I’m Mark.” And when the man holds his hand out to Chenle, he notices the star shaped tattoo on his wrist, matching Chenle’s own.
His soulmate .
“Hi.” Chenle reaches his arm out, allowing the man to help him stand up. “You’re my soulmate. Look at our wrists.”
They hold their wrists next to each other’s, watching as the black tattoos begin to fade. The one on Mark’s arm fades into a deep shade of red, while Chenle’s own fades into a navy blue.
“You haven’t said your name yet,” Mark points out, which makes Chenle laugh.
“I’m Chenle.” He looks around, realizing that the room they’re in looks like a movie theater concessions area. An empty counter with empty popcorn machines behind it. Empty slushy machines. Butter dispensers that look old and decrepit.
“Pretty shabby place for a first date,” Chenle jokes, eliciting a laugh out of Mark.
“I definitely wouldn’t have chosen it myself.” Mark scratches behind his neck. “Can’t even get popcorn in here.”
“I wonder who chose it. How we even got here.” He lacks any sort of urgency, despite not having any knowledge of where he is.
Mark reaches his hand into his pocket and pulls out two tickets. He hands Chenle one of them.
‘Stories Left Untold: M&C Edition
Theater 30’
“Should we go to the theater?” Mark asks.
And despite taking a moment to internally question the action, Chenle finds himself immediately answering.
“Sure, let’s go.”
They follow the signs, stopping outside of the assigned theater.
“This is it,” Mark says. “Looks a little odd, doesn’t it?”
The theater does appear a bit strange from the outside, but it only becomes more strange once they walk in and see that there’s only two seats in the large room.
“I guess it was specifically made for us,” Chenle chooses to joke as they take the seats.
The lights of the theater immediately dim, and the screen at the front of the room suddenly lights up.
‘Dear Chenle,
I’m sorry that we never got to meet in our lifetimes, but I’m honored that you get to see this highlight reel. I hope that you enjoy the man that I would’ve been if we got to meet. It’ll never amount to what we could’ve been, but I hope that it’ll still make you happy in some way. Even though we never got to know each other, I still love you.
Forever and always,
Mark Lee’
Chenle turns to Mark, about to ask him about the message, but then music suddenly starts to blare, stealing his attention away.
✶
It’s already late at night—the stars are glimmering in the sky, which should be Chenle’s cue to go home. But he has a game in three days, and he hasn’t been able to make any baskets at practice. And as the star player, he’s supposed to. He’s been off of his game for the past week, and he can’t figure out why.
He shoots the ball again from the three point line, and despite his prayers, it goes right past the basket, instead rolling towards the entrance of the court.
“Shit!” Chenle shouts. He can’t take it anymore. If he continues on like this, he’ll cost his team the tournament.
They’re depending on him—everyone is depending on him. What’s a team if the captain is doing a shitty job?
“Hey,” a voice says, breaking Chenle out of his own mental prison. “It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”
There’s a man approaching him, carrying Chenle’s basketball in his hand.
“What’s it to you?” The audacity of this man to be questioning Chenle as if they know each other.
The guy passes the ball over to Chenle, and as he does, Chenle catches a glimpse of his wrist.
“You’re gonna pass out on this court if you don’t go home soon.”
Chenle paces over to the man, grabbing his wrist and staring at it. And that’s when he begins to feel his own soulmate mark tingling.
“No way…” The man says.
“No way, indeed,” Chenle chuckles.
“That makes sense.” The man’s eyes are glued to his own soulmate mark, which Chenle can see fading into a dark red. He looks at his own, and sees it fading into a navy blue.
“What makes sense?” Chenle asks.
“Why I felt so concerned about you,” the man explains. “I usually wouldn’t do something like this, but for some reason, I just couldn’t walk past you without saying something.”
“I’m glad that you did, then.” Chenle smiles, pretending that he wasn’t cursing this man in his head just a few minutes ago. “I’m Chenle, by the way.”
“I’m Mark.”
✶
“That was a bummer,” Mark sighs. Chenle sighs along with him. Their date got ruined by the storm (so much for ‘sunny skies’,Apple Weather), and now they’re all soaked, hiding under a business’s awning for shelter.
“Yeah, that wasn’t fun.” Chenle watches as the streets become flooded. “Think we can make it back to one of our places?”
Mark sighs. “I don’t think it’s safe to drive in this.”
He’s right. Chenle doesn’t even know why he’d ask.
“We’re so fucked,” Chenle says.
“I think we are.”
Chenle takes out his phone, gracious that it hasn’t died or sustained some significant water damage. He’s able to dry the screen enough to get to Google, searching up if there’s a short stay or anything anywhere nearby.
“Says there’s a hotel down the street. Wanna try that out?”
“That’s probably our best bet,” Mark answers. “We should make a run for it.”
So Chenle grabs Mark’s arm.
“One…two..three!”
He bolts off in the direction of the hotel, dragging Mark behind him. Luckily, they make it to the building without falling or getting carried off by the strong winds.
“May I help you two?” The receptionist asks, clearly trying to hold in her laugh.
“Uh, yeah,” Mark answers. “Are there any rooms available? Please say yes.”
The receptionist laughs as she types into her computer.
“We have one room with one bed, if that works for you two,” she says. “There are robes available in the room if that interests you as well.”
Chenle and Mark have been hit with the famous ‘and there was only one bed’ trope, but it’s whatever. They’re already soulmates, despite deciding that they’re going to take things slow.
“That works,” Chenle answers, taking out his card.
Chenle unplugs the blow dryer and places it back down on the counter, his hair now adequately dried after his shower. He returns into the room, where it’s fairly dark, the only light being from the TV’s glow. It’s just enough to illuminate the bed, Chenle smiling as he sees Mark’s fluffy, brown, hair all messy on his head.
“Did you get into a fight on your way out from the bathroom?” Chenle asks as he slides next to Mark in the bed.
“I tried brushing it,” he groans.
“With what? A pinecone?” Chenle teases as he runs his fingers through Mark’s hair, smoothing it out a bit.
“Stop teasing me.”
“You make it hard not to.”
Mark sighs. “What a shitty first date.”
“Yeah,” Chenle agrees. “But we can look at the bright side. This will become a funny memory one day.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Mark still looks defeated, and all Chenle wants to do is cheer him up.
“Come on,” Chenle moans. “Look on the bright side.”
“What bright side?”
“You’re laying naked in a hotel bed with me!” Chenle breaks out into laughter as Mark’s face goes red.
“We’re not naked! We’re wearing robes!”
“But what’s under the robes?”
Mark stays quiet, clearly embarrassed as he turns his head away from Chenle.
How cute.
Chenle rolls over on top of Mark, cupping the older male’s face in his hands.
“Woah…” Mark gasps, clearly taken aback by their close proximity. Even in their couple of hangouts before this official date, they haven’t gotten this close yet.
Chenle laughs again, before leaning in and pressing his lips to Mark’s, capturing him in a sweet kiss.
“Now we have something good to remember,” Chenle says as they pull away, a light blush dusting Mark’s cheeks. Chenle can only imagine that he has a matching one on his face. “Our first kiss.”
✶
Chenle pushes Mark onto the bed, clambering onto his lap as soon as he can. He’s left breathless when Mark pulls him into a kiss, grabbing his waist and rolling them over, laying Chenle on his back.
They’ve just gotten back from their fifth date, and Chenle thinks that they’ve taken it slow enough. He hopes that it’s been long enough, because he has his heart set on this happening tonight.
“Ah, hyung,” Chenle pushes Mark’s head away from his neck where he was biting. “Not there.”
If Chenle shows up with a hickey, his teammates won’t let him hear the end of it.
“Why not?” Mark asks. “Scared?”
Chenle scoffs. “Scared of what?”
“I don’t know.” Mark’s lips ghost the crook of his neck. “Scared to show off? Scared to show them you have a boyfriend at home?”
Chenle’s not scared of anything.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, grabbing Mark by the back of his head and shoving his face back into his neck.
Chenle’s eyes roll to the back of his head as Mark sucks on his sensitive skin. Even more when Mark’s hands migrate under his shirt, his fingers gripping onto Chenle’s waist, pressing down hard enough to where they’ll definitely leave a bruise. Especially if he keeps them there.
Chenle hopes that they stay there all night long.
When Mark pulls away, he looks down at Chenle so intensely that it almost scares him. He doesn’t think that he’s seen Mark so serious about something yet.
“Chenle, what do you wanna do tonight?”
And Chenle feels like the answer is obvious.
“You know what I wanna do.” It should be obvious. Chenle was the one who pushed Mark down onto the bed and sat on his lap.
“Say what you want me to do.” Mark’s hands fall to the hem of Chenle’s shirt and push it up. Chenle shudders as the cool air from the room hits his exposed stomach.
And he only becomes colder when Mark’s lips press right below his belly button, sending a shiver down his spine.
“I wanna fuck,” Chenle manages to choke out despite losing his mind under Mark’s touch.
Mark continues to press small kisses on his stomach as his hands go to unbutton Chenle’s pants.
“Be more specific.”
He doesn’t know why the fuck Mark is making this so complicated.
“You’re really gonna make me say it?”
Mark slowly pulls Chenle’s pants down, maintaining eye contact as he does so.
“Mhm,” Mark hums, making the butterflies in Chenle go wild.
“I want you to fuck me.”
✶
One moment Chenle is running normally, and then suddenly he’s on the ground, a burning sensation in his knee. He feels himself scream, but he can’t hear it. He sees the referee blow the whistle, but he can’t hear that either.
All he can hear is a ringing sound in his ears, along with the little voice in his head assuring him that his career is over. He doesn’t even know what’s happened yet, but this has to be the end.
But one voice breaks through.
“Chenle!”
He looks up to see Mark hopping over the barricade between the crowd and the court, running over to him along with the coaches and referee.
“Chenle.” Mark crouches down. “What happened? What hurts?”
“My knee.” Chenle grabs onto Mark’s arm, digging his nails deep into the skin, trying to ground himself.
“Can you try and help him stand?” His coach asks Mark.
Chenle allows Mark to pull him to his feet, but the second that he puts any weight on the injured knee, he nearly falls over.
“It might be his ACL.”
No. No. No. No. No.
The infamous ACL tear—any athlete’s worst nightmare.
“Shhh,” Mark hushes Chenle as he sweeps him off of his feet. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. Please don’t cry.”
“Hyung.” Chenle hides his face in Mark’s shoulder. “It’s over. My career is over.”
“Your career isn’t over,” Mark reassures. “Someone called an ambulance. It’ll be here soon.”
But Chenle can’t help but to feel that way. He’ll be over a year out of the game. Will they even want him back after that?
He’s good as finished here.
“It’s okay.” Mark carries Chenle out of the stuffy gymnasium. He carries him out of the arena as a whole and brings him outside, letting him breathe fresh air.
“Your career isn’t over, Chenle,” Mark says one more time. “Now breathe in, and breathe out. I know it hurts, but try to calm down, you’ll feel better.”
Chenle follows his instructions, staring at the sky as he takes a deep breath in, trying to calm down.
“It’s not working,” Chenle complains, to which Mark sighs heavily.
“Give it time.”
Chenle breathes in and out again, staring out into the distance as the flashing ambulance lights get closer and closer.
✶
Chenle sits on the bathroom floor playing with his knee brace as Mark rubs the red dye into his hair.
“I’m almost done,” Mark says.
Chenle’s been stuck in a bit of a rut since his injury, and it’s only gotten worse since the surgery. His coach waited until after his recovery process started to let him know that they’ll touch base in a couple of months to see where Chenle is at. And to Chenle, that sounds like his spot on the team isn’t secured.
So his basketball career may very well be over.
Forced to retire at twenty-three. That’s not something that Chenle ever anticipated happening—and therefore not something that he was ready to cope with.
But he’s lucky to have Mark. Lucky to have his boyfriend by his side, helping him every step of the way. Bringing him back down to Earth when it all becomes too much. Suggesting small activities like dyeing their hair, just so Chenle has something to look forward to.
“And now we let it sit.”
Mark runs the bath water to clean off his own hands, before he sits on the ground next to Chenle.
“Excited for your new color?” Mark asks. And Chenle wants to be pessimistic and deny it, but the smile on Mark’s face is too cute. Too sweet to get rid of.
“I am,” Chenle answers, a smile of his own appearing on his face. “Tomorrow we’re bleaching yours, right?”
“Yup,” Mark answers. “Don’t touch my eyebrows, though.”
Chenle chuckles, cupping Mark’s cheek in his hand. “I won’t.”
Mark, who’s first interaction with him was making sure that Chenle didn’t wear himself out from practicing all night. Mark, who hasn’t stopped taking care of him since then. Mark, who showed up to pick Chenle up from practice every single day—even when he worked late. Mark, who ran to Chenle the second that he fell over on the court that day. Mark, who's been gentle and caring to Chenle on every step in his healing journey, even in his ugliest moments. Even in the moments when Chenle yelled at him to go away, yelled about how he didn’t understand what it felt like
Yelled about how maybe they should break up.
Mark never left.
“I love you.” Despite neither of them saying it to each other yet, the words roll off of Chenle’s tongue easily—naturally.
Mark looks surprised once the words hit his ears, but without a second of hesitation, he says, “I love you, too.”
✶
Chenle’s abruptly pulled back into reality when the screen goes black, ending the montage of sentimental moments.
First meeting, first date, first kiss, first time, and first ‘I love you.’
It all felt so real, giving Chenle whiplash as he’s now met with a dark room.
He turns next to him, seeing that his Mark’s face is flushed red.
“Cute, wasn’t it?” Mark asks.
“Yeah,” Chenle answers. “That was us.”
“It was.”
Chenle feels himself blush, now suddenly feeling very familiar with the man next to him, despite just seeing him as a stranger.
“Mark-hyung,” Chenle says. The name and honorific feel natural to him now. “Can I call you that?”
“Of course,” Mark answers, an awkwardly cute smile on his face. “I’m Mark, and I’m your hyung too.”
Chenle laughs, feeling his heartstrings tug as he looks at the man.
“Was that real?” Chenle finds himself asking. “Was that really us? Are you my Mark-hyung? Are you my boyfriend?”
It felt so real, but Chenle still doesn’t know. He can’t help but feed into the skepticism nagging him at the back of his mind.
“It was,” Mark answers. “I’m yours, Chenle. Your Mark-hyung.”
And suddenly Chenle feels like he’s being pulled over to him, leaning over the armrest of the seat. Mark leans in along with him, cupping Chenle’s face.
But something feels wrong.
“Mark-hyung.” Chenle grabs Mark’s wrists in his hand, making sure that the man is tangible.
And Chenle feels him. Feels warm skin under his fingertips.
Mark has to be real.
“What’s wrong?” Mark asks.
“Nothing.” Chenle dismisses him in favor of smashing their lips together.
And it feels so real, Mark’s lips moving against his. Soft lips against his own chapped ones, sharing the moisture. Chenle’s nearly about to climb over the armrest into his lap, but then music begins to fill the theater again.
“What the hell?” They pull away, and Chenle looks back at the screen.
‘ERRORERRORERRORERRORERROR
REALITY REEL PLAYS IN
5…4…’
“Chenle leave,” Mark demands. “You shouldn’t see this.”
Now Chenle’s brain is all jumbled up.
“But–”
“Just go!” Mark shouts.
And Chenle tries to stand up, but it’s like there’s a force holding him down to his seat.
The reel begins to play, but Chenle isn’t sucked in like he was before. It’s like he’s just there, watching a normal movie, like he anticipated that they originally would.
“Hey.” A voice on screen says. A voice that Chenle has grown really familiar with.
The image on screen is of Mark sitting on a couch at what looks like a houseparty. A red solo cup in his hand, a pretty boy on his lap, and when the camera focuses in on his soulmate mark, it’s still black.
He and Mark never met here.
“Dude, aren’t you supposed to be driving tonight?” Mark’s friend asks. He just waves the guy off.
“It’s just one drink.”
The night continues, Mark downing drink after drink, dancing with hottie after hottie, eventually throwing up in a houseplant…
“Dude, you’re fucked up, you have to go home, and you’re not driving,” another one of Mark’s friends tell him. “I’ll call you an Uber. Give me your phone.”
Mark rolls his eyes, but reluctantly hands the phone over.
His friend calls the car, and once it arrives, he’s escorted outside.
And all seems okay, until they’re on the highway where another vehicle swerves into them.
Right into the side of the car that Mark is sitting in.
“Hyung?” Chenle’s finally able to tear his eyes away from the screen, staring at the man next to him, who has tears streaming down his face. “Hyung?”
And as Chenle watches Mark cry, a moment of clarity finally strikes him.
This isn’t real. None of this is real. This Mark next to him isn’t real, because the one in the car was.
Because Chenle’s soulmate is dead.
He looks down at his wrist, and the tattoo that turned navy blue upon his and Mark's first meeting is now scabbed over, just like it is in real life.
“Mark-hyung?
The man slowly turns his head over to Chenle, the tears falling faster and faster.
“You knew that none of this was real.” Chenle suddenly feels betrayed. “Why did you let me think that it was?”
“Because it was real, Chenle. If we would’ve gotten to meet, it would’ve been real.”
But they never did. So it’s fake. It was all fake.
Except for the car accident. That happened in real life.
“You’re not real!” Chenle shouts, standing up from his seat. “Why would you let me believe this? Any of this?”
“I’m not real!” Mark admits, standing up and walking over to Chenle. “But the feelings are real! I know that I could’ve loved you. We would’ve been in love.”
Mark’s voice becomes quiet near the end of the sentence.
“So when you wake up, remember me, okay?” Mark pulls Chenle into a hug. “My name is Mark Lee, and I was twenty-five when I died. I loved music, writing, and my family. Visit me, Chenle. You’ll know where to find me.”
And as much as Chenle wants to push the fake Mark away—curse him for somehow bringing him here, making him catch feelings knowing that they can’t ever be together—he can’t find it in himself. He melts into his touch, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions that he’s gone through in such a short period of time.
He’s loved and lost.
Loved and lost a man that he never met.
“Why?” Chenle brings a hand to his face, feeling tears of his own falling. “Why would you– Why would you let me– Mark!”
“I’m sorry!” Mark shouts in a panic. “I’m sorry—but I wanted you to see. I thought it was beautiful. I wanted you to know what we could’ve had…”
And it was beautiful. It was one of the most beautiful things that Chenle has ever laid his eyes on.
But it was him on that screen. A life that he will never get to live just dangled in his face—held over his head.
And now he has to live with this knowledge. The knowledge that he could’ve had something beautiful. The knowledge that such a love was stolen away from Chenle by a careless person.
“Why?” Chenle’s voice is weak.
“I’m sorry, Chenle,” Mark apologizes one last time. “I’m sorry that we never got to meet, but maybe in the next life we’ll be soulmates too. I’ll wait for you until then.”
And then Chenle’s vision goes black.
✶
“Ready?” Renjun asks as he squeezes Chenle’s hand.
“If I ever want to feel okay again.”
Chenle’s mind hasn’t known peace since the day that he woke up from that dream. He’s been plagued with thoughts of Mark Lee, wondering just who this guy was, what he was like, what their future together would’ve looked like if they’d gotten to have one.
And Mark’s—dreamland Mark’s—words have flown through his mind everyday since as well.
Chenle put off visiting him for as long as possible. He’s tried hard to forget the dream, forget Mark’s face, forget what he saw—experienced—that night. But he can’t. All of the dream is permanently etched into Chenle’s brain. Every single painful detail plaguing his mind at inconvenient times. Especially when moments from the dream sequence still occurred in real life.
When the game where Chenle tore his ACL finally occurred, at the same moment that he got injured in the dream, he tore his ACL in real life. But there was no Mark to run over and pick him up. No Mark to keep him grounded as he mourned his basketball career so early on. No Mark to keep him company after the surgery. No Mark to dye his hair red.
So after months in recovery, his mental state in the gutter following his tremendous losses, he decided that maybe this is what he needs. Maybe getting to see some semblance of the man that he was meant to love in this life will bring him some comfort.
Chenle looks back at Renjun one last time, who offers him a supportive smile.
He enters the cemetery, allowing his feet to guide the way.
Mark told him that he’d know where to find him, and so Chenle trusts his instincts.
And those instincts lead him to a well kept gravesite, the granite stone is freshly polished. Mark must’ve been well loved for his site to be so neat.
Chenle takes a seat next to the headstone, ignoring the dull ache in his knee as he crosses his legs. He leans against it, feeling the tears prickling at his eyes already.
He didn’t even know Mark Lee, but being reminded that he’s dead causes Chenle’s whole body to ache. And when he takes another look at the picture on the headstone, it shows Mark’s wrist clearly—the same black star etched on it.
Chenle doesn’t want to make a show of his grief and disturb the other visitors, especially ones who probably actually knew their loved ones, but he can’t hold the tears in. He drops his head into his hands, sobs wracking his body as he cries.
Chenle cries for Mark Lee, who died when he had an entire life ahead of him, and he cries for himself, who’s been robbed of a life with the one person who’d love him unconditionally.
And when his eyes dry up, he feels a bit better.
“Stupid Mark,” Chenle grumbles. He feels guilty for calling the man such a mean word, but why would he pull Chenle in? Why would he visit Chenle in a dream, knowing that they’d never truly get to be together? Let Chenle get a glimpse of their love—what it could’ve been—taunting him.
Chenle knows that he’s a hard person to love. He’s sweet all around, but still rough around the edges. When his life gets bad, he gets really bad. Hell, he even felt like Renjun was ready to let go after his injury until Chenle finally had a moment of clarity.
And the one person who would’ve loved Chenle despite that just had to die.
“Why would you leave me hanging like this?” Chenle sighs, hugging the headstone as if it’s Mark himself. “Every time I go to sleep I pray that I get to see you again. If your feelings were actually real like you said that they were, you’d at least come and see me.”
Chenle feels so stupid sitting here and hugging a headstone, but at the same time, it’s therapeutic.
“I found your social media. I listened to your snippets and really liked them. Did you know that I could sing? If we met, maybe I could’ve sang for you. We could’ve done a song together. That would’ve been fun, wouldn’t it?”
Chenle continues to talk, pausing for responses despite knowing that he won’t get any.
Still, it feels good.
And once he’s gotten everything off of his chest, he stands up. The moon is hanging high in the sky already, which means that it must’ve been an hour or two. Chenle feels bad for leaving Renjun hanging, but he needed this.
Maybe next time he’ll be courageous enough to come back alone.
Chenle looks up at the stars, then down at his wrist, then at the photo of Mark.
“All of the stars are out.” Chenle comments, kicking around some dirt. “Bye, Mark-hyung. I’ll see you another time. Maybe the next time that I feel like shit I’ll come here.”
Before he walks away, Chenle takes one last look at the sky. A shooting star appears, and his eyes follow it until it completely disappears from his vision.
“Was that you saying bye to me, Mark-hyung?” Chenle asks, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. “Since you were so polite, I guess that I can visit again soon.”
✶