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He wants to be everything that he is not. Life is static. An inevitable emptiness that only grows within him. Sylvia Plath once said, “I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.” So why is his flesh rotting when he has no soul to begin with?
Surrounded by people, by his friends, he could at least pretend to be happy. They have no idea who he really is though. A poser. How he had deceived them when he was and still is a terrible liar, he does not know. But Seungkwan is none the wiser when they go out for coffee. And Hansol loves it when they watch movies together.
Chan is human, he knows that much. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise, to act as though he is a gross perversion of something not even resembling a person. He has read that belief over and over in books, from Osamu Dazai to Qiu Miaojin. But he looks in the mirror and could barely recognize the creature staring back at him, human or not.
“Chan, are you ready to go?” He shifts his focus to Soonyoung outside his door, waiting for him so that they could walk to class. Reluctantly, he tears his eyes away from his reflection and takes a breath before opening the door to face Soonyoung. He smiles and says hi, instantly melting into the person Soonyoung is familiar with.
Soonyoung will never know who he truly is. It is scary to think about as they walk down the street to campus. Soonyoung likes it when Chan is happy, so that is all Chan will ever be.
He moves on autopilot. Every day is the same. Chan recalls loathing the monotony at some point in his life. He has found himself lying in bed and staring at the ceiling more often in recent days, weeks even. It is easier to pretend to live a happy life this way.
One day, everything will be better. That is the goal, isn’t it? To better his life, to be someone his friends and family are proud of. Seungcheol is definitely not proud of the current version of him, the one that constantly disappoints with his ineptitude of social cues. Chan could see it in his eyes from where Seungcheol is sitting across from him, conversing with Jeonghan. They likely talk about Chan behind his back, about how they only include him at their house parties because they pity how pathetic he is.
The two of them keep glancing, not so discreetly, over at Chan. It makes his skin crawl and he knows he needs to leave the room. He stands up, perhaps too abruptly, and pushes his way through crowds of people to the kitchen, purposely avoiding eye contact with the two still talking.
He does not know why he tries to come to parties like these. It is a compulsion. He feels so awkward talking to anyone there, especially without the crutch of any of his friends. But he wants to be someone so badly that he cannot help but force himself to be invited.
The kitchen is thankfully empty. After all, the only reason one would enter is to refill the stash of alcohol outside. Chan quietly sips his own beer and sighs. It is not productive to think that everyone hates him and he logically knows he is being paranoid about Seungcheol. There is that small chance that he is not wrong though, so protecting himself before the inevitable disappointment is all he could do.
A boy walks into the kitchen. Chan does not permit any attention to him beyond noticing his presence, Instead, he cradles his beer and plays a lousy phone game.
“There’s only room for one loser at this party.” Chan whips his head up as the words leave the boy’s lips.
The boy has glasses and slightly tousled hair. Chan would not call him a loser by any standards, but considering himself, he knows that humans are not what they look like.
“I’m sorry?” is all Chan manages to say, eyes glued to the boy who is now leaning on the counter opposite to him.
“Apologies, that was meant to be a joke.” Chan laughs slightly on instinct. “I’m Wonwoo by the way.”
Chan extends his arm for a handshake. “Chan,” he says as Wonwoo offers his own. “It’s quite sad to be hiding out in the kitchen, don’t you think?”
Wonwoo mulls over this for a moment. “I suppose it is. Though sad people are usually alone and it appears that there are two people here.” There is commotion outside from some drinking game. “Why are you here?”
Chan shrugs and takes another sip of his beer. “I could ask the same for you, but it does not really matter.” He does not have the slightest clue as to what possessed him to act this way, to not give the slightest piece of effort to maintain his image of being okay. “Do you like cream puffs?”
Wonwoo nods. He throws his empty can in the trash, frowning as he clears away other rubbish left over on the counter.
Chan does the same. “There’s a place open late up on Walnut street. Want to join me?”
They leave through the fire escape. Chan tells Wonwoo that it is to avoid pushing through the crowd in front of the door, but really he wants to avoid the scrutinizing gaze of Seungcheol. Chan knows Seungcheol would be disappointed that he, once again, disappeared without saying goodbye.
The cream puffs are nice but the company is nicer. The last time he had a conversation where he did not adapt to what the other person wanted was a fleeting memory. They walk together, though, words tumbling out of Chan’s mouth in a way that is unrelated to the alcohol sitting inside his body.
He knows that this moment will never last and after this night, he will never see Wonwoo again. He is willing to take that chance though, to brave the inevitable disappointment.
“You’re easy to talk to,” Wonwoo says with cream smeared at the corner of his lips.
Is he really? Chan knows how incompetent he is with first meetings with people, how awkward his mannerisms and words are. He is different today, though, different with Wonwoo. “It’s the opposite. I don’t think I have ever been this talkative to someone I’m not close to.”
“Well you heard me rant about minesweeper strategies for the past ten minutes, so I would say we are close.”
“You don’t even know my surname,” Chan brazenly says. Perhaps it is the fact that he would never see Wonwoo again that fuels his confidence.
Wonwoo huffs out a laugh. “You got me there.” The stars in the night sky look as diminished from pollution as ever, but Chan could still pick out a couple constellations from their park bench. “My friends always admonish me for being too quiet but truthfully I don’t know how to talk to them.”
“Why’s that?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you another time.” Wonwoo pushes off the bench with a quiet salute to Chan, and heads off into the night.
Later, in bed, Chan wonders why Wonwoo lied to him. There is never going to be a next time.
A week has passed and Chan’s mind cannot leave that night. He cannot walk around campus without a part of brain being occupied by the hope that he would run into Wonwoo somewhere. He does not know whether Wonwoo is friends with Jeonghan, but he still wishes that Jeonghan would invite him to his apartment for another party.
Chan is sick. Healthy people are not this hung up over a regular conversation. Normal people experience this all the time and do not spend their waking hours thinking about a boy they would never see again.
“Is there something on your mind, Chan?” He still needs to keep up his persona, so he must respond with a shake of his head to Seungkwan’s question.
The two of them are currently studying in a library. They do this often, though both of them know they never study and instead spend the time gossiping or talking about classes. Seungkwan likes to gossip. However, Chan is much quieter this time, pretending to do work.
Seungkwan side eyes him. “I’ll believe you for now.” He abruptly shuts his textbook. “I totally forgot, I have to meet with someone about spirit committee logistics! Do you want to join me? It shouldn’t take that long.”
Chan is desperate to rid his mind of the curse that is Wonwoo, so he agrees. It is almost as if that night never happened. It is possible that Chan had just imagined the entire event as a way to make his life more interesting than the boringness it is. That theory does nothing to cure his brain though.
“So Mingyu, the person I’m meeting, is friends with Seungcheol. He was at the party the other night. Speaking of, when did you leave? I think I was too drunk to notice,” Seungkwan chuckles.
Chan frowns slightly at the reminder of the party. He quickly schools his expression, though, at the thought of his company. “I left after an hour, I think. Sorry, I forgot to say bye.”
Seungkwan hums and they find themselves at the campus gate. “Ok, Mingyu was supposed to be here five minutes ago, but he is late as usual.”
Chan chuckles out of courtesy and leans against the gate, observing his surroundings. Everyone seems so happy. Are they truly? Do they enjoy walking on campus, meeting friends, or even just existing in the moment they are in? Or, are they faking it like Chan?
“Finally, you show up!” He tears his eyes off the club table across the plaza at Seungkwan’s voice. When Chan looks over at him, he sees Wonwoo. He is behind a taller boy who Chan presumes to be Mingyu, and Chan wishes to be anywhere but the place he is in.
Wonwoo notices him. “Hi Chan!” He says it too casually, and Chan barely manages a wave back and a smile that most probably comes off more as a grimace. He wonders if Wonwoo could tell how much Chan has had his mind occupied with him within the past few days. It is very apparent that Wonwoo has not given him the same thought.
Mingyu looks between them, brows furrowed in confusion. “You two know each other?”
Chan swallows. “Uh, yeah. We met at Jeonghan’s party the other day.” His initial shock has worn off and in its place, Chan’s usual mask has returned.
Seungkwan stares at him. “You didn’t mention you made a friend.” Chan cringes on the inside. “Well, nice to meet you! I’m Seungkwan. Are you also friends with Seungcheol?”
“I’m Wonwoo. And no, I was just dragged along to the party by Mingyu.”
Before Seungkwan could ask more, he is interrupted by Mingyu’s ringtone. He picks up and Chan could make out muffled yelling, though the words are lost. “Now? Fine, I have Seungkwan with me. We will head over.” Mingyu hangs up and sighs. “We have to go over to Jun’s. Someone graffitied the statue, again.”
“Chan, I’ll see you later, sorry!” Seungkwan manages before the two of them run away, leaving Chan and Wonwoo alone. Chan supposes he should be happy about this situation considering his thoughts for the past week, but his heart feels as though it is going to hammer out of his chest.
“So,” Wonwoo starts apprehensively, which Chan cannot help but interpret as repulsion towards the situation. “Do you like to read? There’s this bookstore I have been wanting to go to, but my friends are anti-reading except for manga, and it’s awkward to go alone.” He looks at Chan expectedly.
Chan tries to not make his voice sound desperate. “Of course! I would love to join you, I love to read, but truthfully I am not that knowledgeable about books.”
The bus ride there is twenty minutes long, of which they sit in silence side by side. The bus is too quiet to talk in anyway, and Chan quite enjoys looking out the window.
He almost trips when getting out of the bus, and Wonwoo holds his arm to steady him. The remnants of his touch linger as they walk to the bookstore, but Chan chooses not to think about it and instead listens to Wonwoo talk about his favorite books.
“Have you read this before?” Wonwoo lifts up a copy of Hunger by Knut Hamsun. Chan shakes his head. “I’ll buy it for you. It’s worth the read.”
They spend the rest of their time together walking slowly through the store. It is mostly Wonwoo speaking, but Chan tries to chime in whenever they end up near a book that he has read. Which is not many, but he likes to hear Wonwoo speak anyway.
The bus ride back to their campus feels too soon, and Chan wishes that his life could be in that bookstore with Wonwoo forevermore. His arm stings with the ghost of Wonwoo’s hand and his bag feels impossibly heavier with the book that Wonwoo had bought him.
It is hard enough to pretend to be enough for his friends, but his parents add a variable that Chan hates.
He worries so much about the right social interactions he should have that he never has time to worry about his future. Of which, he has no path. It does not help when his parents call him once a week, asking whether he has plans for the summer or suggesting paths for his future. Chan loves his parents too much to not listen.
It does not help, either, that his brain is filled with Wonwoo. His heart skips a beat whenever he is casually mentioned by one of his friends, and he cannot help but yearn for more moments like the ones they had. Chan wishes he has a name for this feeling. He wishes more that Wonwoo even feels a fraction the same.
He has not been paying attention to the lecturer for the past ten minutes, instead taking to doodling aimlessly on the margin of his notebook. Soonyoung looks over at him, eyebrows furrowed, as if stopping himself from saying something. That is something else that has been different since the party. The weird looks from his friends. Is he that much of a stranger?
The bell tolls, which Chan registers a minute too late. Everyone else around him is already packing up their belongings, and Chan rushes to join them. Soonyoung stands next to him as he does so, and they walk outside to the autumn breeze.
“Are you doing ok, Chan?” Soonyoung’s voice abruptly bursts through the silence.
“Yeah, I have just been tired recently. I don’t know why.” The lie falls quickly out of his lips.
Soonyoung looks dubious but does not push the matter further. “Do you want to hear a really funny story?”
“Sure.” It is easy to talk to Soonyoung. He seldom is serious.
“Over the weekend, I went over to Jihoon’s apartment. He’s the producer friend I was telling you about.” Chan nods his head despite having no recollection. “I had stolen Seungcheol’s hat the other day and-“
Chan tunes out Soonyoung after that, humming a yes whenever appropriate. The sun slowly sets in the distance.
“-I can’t believe Jihoon actually agreed to produce it! Anyway, I’m going over to his place for dinner. Do you want to come with me? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you there.” Chan has always been awful at saying no, so he finds himself agreeing.
Jihoon’s apartment is not too far from his and Soonyoung’s. Chan had noticed Soonyoung spending less and less time at their apartment, so he could not help but conclude that Soonyoung had been here instead.
Jihoon lets them in. “Hi Soonyoung and mini Soonyoung,” he teases and Chan would have felt out of place had it not been for Jihoon’s smile towards him. He falls for the smallest things.
His apartment is the typical college student apartment. Not exactly sterile as the dorms were, but not as warm and comforting as a home is. A temporary place to live. The bookshelf at the corner of the room is a nice touch. Chan observes it as Jihoon shows Soonyoung the food he bought in the kitchen. The majority of the shelves are filled with manga, with the exception of the two at the top. Instead, novels that Chan could slightly recognize occupy the space. He makes out the word “hunger” on the side of one before Soonyoung calls him to the kitchen.
“I hope you don’t mind if my roommate joins us.” Jihoon sets the table as he asks Chan, which Chan vehemently agrees to as he was not supposed to be here either. Chan washes his hands and sits at the table, banned from helping by Soonyoung.
He plays a game on his phone to pass the time, not paying attention to what the other two are doing. In the corner of his vision, he sees someone sit next to him, and he turns his head.
Wonwoo looks back at him. “We seem to run into each other a lot,” he says with a slight laugh.
He is more withdrawn when they are with other people, not confident as Chan remembers. Chan had also noticed this two days ago when he had seen him with Mingyu. “Seems like it,” Chan settles on casual conversation, “I suppose you are Jihoon’s roommate then?”
Wonwoo nods and opens his mouth to say something, before Soonyoung interrupts, “Chan! this is Wonwoo!”
“We know each other,” Chan says too quickly, without hesitation.
Jihoon opens his mouth in shock. “How? Wonwoo, you’re more social than I assumed.”
Chan is saved from saying even more embarrassing statements by Wonwoo. “We became friends at that party that Mingyu made me go to.”
Friends. For the rest of the meal, Chan’s mind latched onto that word. He talked when he needed to and ate just fine, but the word rattled through his brain like the keys in his pocket. It is stupid, he knows. Wonwoo had nonchalantly used that word, and Chan had to be so dramatic about it. It was nice to know, however, that Wonwoo thought of him more than just someone.
They end up on the couch after dinner, watching a movie that Chan vaguely remembers Hansol making him watch a couple months prior. He tries not to focus on the warmth of Wonwoo pressed up against him on the too small sofa.
It is too late to run away from this feeling. Chan’s feet are chained to the ground. He is a prisoner to his own body, his own mind. and once again he will be forced to go through the pain of losing someone.
Predicting feelings is hard. Even artificial intelligence does it better than him. Though that is all they are meant to do, predict outcomes based on a set of parameters. It still hurts Chan’s ego that something fake is better than him.
Out of his current friends, Hansol is probably the one that knows him the most. Not in the way of facts about his life (that would be Jeonghan), but rather due to Hansol’s abhorrence of superficiality. He is so down to earth that it scares Chan sometimes, and he has found himself avoiding Hansol at times in order to prevent Hansol from realizing how fake he is.
Chan spends yet another party sitting with him. They do not talk much, instead watching their peers have fun. He knows that Hansol does not mind not being a part of the party. Chan feels so bad that he cannot be like them, though, that his mind is burdened by something inexplicable that prevents him from having genuine fun.
Jeonghan comes up to them, his roommate that Chan barely knows in tow. “Chan! I want you to try this cake I baked!” He follows Jeonghan to the kitchen, noticing how Hansol and the roommate talk as they leave. They seem close, something Chan had not noticed before.
As usual, the kitchen is free of people. Chan leans against the counter as Jeonghan pulls a cake out of the fridge and starts to cut a slice. “You’ve changed this semester. Been so quiet,” Jeonghan says with his back facing Chan, loading a plate with the slice.
True to his words, Chan does not know what to say. He was unaware how much his friends actually noticed his behavior, sans the basic happiness he is meant to exude. He was always under the impression that he was never at the forefront of their thoughts or concerns. “I don’t think that I have changed. I’ve just been tired recently. I don’t know why either.”
Jeonghan passes the plate to Chan. “If you say so. but just know, I’ll always be here if you want to talk to anyone.”
The cake tastes good and Chan does not know what to say. It sounds stupid to tell him that the reason he acts differently is because his mind has been preoccupied with someone. That every day feels hazy, does not feel real, because that moment never did. That he never really was the person Jeonghan thinks he is.
Hansol is still talking to Jeonghan’s roommate when he returns. Chan sits back down with a slight wave of his hand and eats his cake.
“You’re Chan, right?” The roommate shifts his attention towards him.
Chan nods. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
He laughs. “I’m Joshua! Jeonghan’s roommate, but you could probably tell that by now.”
They sit in awkward silence for a few moments, Hansol taking pleasure in their uncomfortableness. “Ok, that may have been the worst first meeting that I have ever seen.” He could barely contain the laughter akin to window wipes, a sign that Chan noticed means he was genuinely amused.
Joshua pouts and punches Hansol’s shoulder. “Shut up! You know how I am when meeting new people.”
“You say that and you still host the school’s radio show.”
“That’s different!”
Chan is a voyeur in this situation as he eats his cake. It is different from being that of a party, Much more personal and intruding. And yet, he could not stop his mind from flicking to Wonwoo. Previously, he would have been jealous of the two in front of him, would have felt the need to act out in order for one or both of them to notice him. Now, the only feeling he has is want.
“Are you not tired of your life?” Soonyoung asks from their sofa. He is sitting weirdly as usual, back on the ground and legs supported by the sofa instead.
Chan chuckles. “Why are you being so existential today? So unlike you.”
“Hey!” Soonyoung gets up and peers over the sofa at Chan. “I can be philosophical when I want to.” Chan simply stares at him. “Ok fine, Minghao is coming over to talk about his future. Apparently I am responsible enough to give him advice.”
“Who’s Minghao?”
“He’s someone I met in that dance class I took last semester. Apparently he’s friends with Hansol too, I saw them talking at a party once.”
Chan raises an eyebrow. “And he thinks you’re the right person to ask for advice?”
“I don’t know why either! My life is so confusing. But anyway, he’s a good person so I’ll try my best to help him somehow.” Soonyoung looks at his phone at an incoming text and then promptly opens the door.
“Thanks for this, Soonyoung. I was really losing my mind earlier.” Chan hears as he coils up his laptop charger. He does not pay attention after that, zoning out as he packs his backpack for a day in the library. Soonyoung did not explicitly tell him to leave, but he knows it would be weird for everyone involved if he were to be here during their serious conversation.
He looks up as he finally zips up his backpack. Minghao and Soonyoung are still standing at the doorway, having a small conversation. He almost does not notice Wonwoo standing behind them. Of course he is. Chan sees him everywhere as though he is the atoms that make up the earth.
Minghao turns his attention towards him. “Hi I’m Minghao! You’re Chan, right? Wonwoo wanted to tag along with me since he was saying that you live here.” He takes off his boots and walks inside, depositing his backpack by the sofa.
“Nice to meet you! Yeah, I’m Chan,” He trails off, unsure of the implications of Wonwoo’s appearance. Soonyoung looks at Chan inquisitively, but Chan ignores the look and pushes past him towards Wonwoo. “Do you want to go to the library?” They leave with a quick goodbye to the other two.
“How did you know I live here?” Chan asks, kicking a rock.
“Jihoon told me you were Soonyoung’s roommate.” Wonwoo is quieter than usual.
The birds chirp around them, juxtaposing the incessant noises of traffic.“I thought you didn’t have friends?”
Wonwoo laughs. “You just happened to see me with my only three friends.” He pauses. “Well now four, with you.”
Chan chooses to not linger on those words. “You never told me why you don’t know how to talk to them.” It may be too serious a question for the situation, but he has always been a curious person.
Wonwoo’s expression softens slightly. “They all have this expectation that I’m this quiet, smart guy who knows everything, among other things. It’s so hard keeping that image up, so it is easier to stay silent.”
They are stopped at a crosswalk across from their university. “I get that. I have so many expectations upon myself that it is hard to keep track, and I don’t blame you for avoiding it instead.” The light turns to walk but Chan does not make an effort to move. “Do you want to do something else, actually? I don’t really want to study right now.” I want to spend time with you goes unsaid.
From the moment Chan met Wonwoo, he was infected by parasites. The parasites ate away at him until all that was left was an empty husk of something that resembled a person, and the remnants of a need for Wonwoo.
The park is beautiful at this time of day, not quite sunset but the sunlight is warm. Wonwoo talks about an episode that happened during a class of his, but all Chan could pay attention to is the way the wind breezes through his hair.
“I read the book you got me,” Chan says after a prolonged silence.
“And what did you think of it?”
“The main character is too proud, would rather starve than be seen as someone who needs help.”
Wonwoo shrugs. “I suppose so. I empathize with him, though. He assumes that tomorrow would be better, that what he does today is just temporary and that his life would not always be in despair. I don’t blame him.”
Chan tilts his head slightly, voice low. “I never thought of it that way. I guess I agree with him, then. The idea of living every day thinking the next would be better.”
“What did you mean by having so many expectations?”
The truth seeps out like a waterfall. “I’m so many different people that I don’t know who I really am. I’m afraid the person you think I am is just another clone.”
“I’ll like you anyway.” Wonwoo’s hand snakes towards Chan’s. “I’ll be your friend regardless of who you may be.” He squeezes it.
And that is all he ever wanted to hear, right? That someone would want him knowing how plastic he is. “Thanks, Wonwoo. You’re a good person.” He pauses, contemplating whether the hand contact is too much. “You know, I’m sure your friends wouldn’t care if you changed their expectations of you. It may be scary, but what’s the worst that could happen? They wouldn’t be real friends if they left you over something petty like presumptions.”
Wonwoo hums. “You’re right.” He moves to get up, and as he walks away he turns back. “You should take your own advice sometime, Chan. You are worth it.”
Seungcheol is the one who saved him, whether he knows it or not. Months ago, Chan almost finally went through with dying a peaceful death. But Seungcheol had constantly messaged him that night, about something or the other, and Chan could not help but respond to him.
A waste of thirty dollars. He had spent the day wandering around the city, gathering the materials needed for his death. He had to write his goodbye letter in the school library because Soonyoung was home, fighting hard to keep the tears at bay because it was midterm season and the seats next to him were full. He even threw the journals he had been keeping since freshman year down a drain, afraid of someone reading his true self. Why was still hiding in death? A better question, why is he still alive?
Seungcheol sits with him in the present moment, as they wait for the football rally to start. They each are here to support their respective friends, Chan for Seungkwan and Seungcheol for Mingyu. It is daunting, sitting beside him. Much more burdensome than it would have been a year prior. Chan could feel the artificiality seeping out of him, like a bad odor that Chan is sure Seungcheol had smelled.
“Are you having fun?” Seungcheol asks, staring at but not watching the dance performance up on the stage. The cheers of other students almost drown out his voice.
Chan shrugs. “As much as I can. I don’t know what appeal Seungkwan sees in this.”
Seungcheol laughs at him. “We would never understand the grip the spirit committee has on them. I swear, Mingyu spends more hours on this than his homework.”
“Some of the things they do are so cult-like, I can’t believe Seungkwan wanted me to join too.”
The rally ends and Seungcheol smiles. “I missed spending time with you. It’s never just the two of us anymore.”
Chan looks anywhere but him. He sees Seungkwan on the stage with the rest of the spirit committee, bowing to the crowds of students. “I missed you too.” There is no harm in saying it how it is.
Seungkwan and Mingyu and two other people Chan does not know head over to them. “Did you guys enjoy the rally?” Seungkwan yells, practically vibrating out of his skin from the adrenaline of excitement. Chan and Seungcheol nod, with the latter moving to pat Mingyu’s back in congratulations.
A boy, with the prettiest blond hair Chan had ever seen, sheepishly smiles and waves at them. “Hi, I’m Jun. The four of us were going to get dinner, do you both want to join?”
He finds himself at a cramped table of some Chinese restaurant. On the walk there, he learns that the other boy’s name is Seokmin, and that the four of them cannot stand anyone in the spirit committee sans themselves.
“It’s always the four of us doing all the work.” Seokmin complains, playing with the chopsticks set in front of him. “I bet that everyone else in the club is just there for free access to the games.”
Mingyu theatrically puts his hand on his face. “Oh, and the drama! Everyday is some new politics or the other.” Seungcheol could barely contain his snort of laughter. “I know we hate everyone, but why does everyone have a problem with everyone else?”
Their food arrives and the complaints are put on halt. Chan shovels some eggplant onto his plate. “Why are you guys still in the club, then?” he asks before eating a big bite of rice.
Jun laughs, mouth full of food that he shoved in a moment prior. He swallows. “Look how happy everyone was at the rally. I feel like I am meant to make people joyful like that.” The other three nod in agreement around him.
Chan ponders on that. All his life, he never had a purpose. He was always the person to give up when things got hard, immediately moving on to the next thing. He could never understand what Jun meant by that, to genuinely love something. But he thinks about Wonwoo and realizes that maybe his life is not that far off after all.
Seungcheol and Chan end up walking everyone to their respective homes. It was an unspoken agreement as both of them wanted to spend more time with each other. They drop off Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Jun and finally it was just them and Mingyu, walking under the streetlights.
“Wonwoo talks about you a lot, Chan.” Mingyu abruptly says.
Chan does not know what to say. Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at him, and he wishes to run away and hide. “He does? I guess we are friends now.”
“That’s nice. He’s been more talkative lately. Even though we have been friends for years, I don’t think I have heard him speak this much before.”
Seungcheol pats Chan’s shoulder. “Chan has that effect on people. You can’t help but love him.” He wishes that Seungcheol did not lie all the time, but he smiles regardless.
The pounding music reverberating throughout the apartment did nothing to soothe Chan’s headache.
He knows that it is a direct result of one too many drinks. Chan regrets it like he regrets everything. His tongue is more loose when he is drunk and he could barely keep his hands off of Wonwoo. The older is tipsy as well, Chan could tell that even in his own state. Definitely not as bad as he is, though.
Sitting against the wall alongside Wonwoo, he seems to recognize more people than he ever did before. Minghao is queueing songs by the speaker. Seokmin and Joshua are deep in conversation, the former’s body curled inwards as if to protect himself from the people around him. Chan had never known that the energetic person who came to all of Jeonghan’s parties was Mingyu. Seungkwan has an arm around Jun’s shoulder as they sing some Orange Caramel song. Jihoon shakes his head in disapproval as Soonyoung and Hansol see who could chug their beer the fastest. And Seungcheol and Jeonghan talk together as they always do.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Chan tries to whisper but it comes out as more of a yell. The music is loud enough to mask his voice and Wonwoo nods and they end up at the fire escape. The chain of events are quite jumbled in Chan’s mind, and he feels grateful that he is not the type of person to throw up when drunk.
Wonwoo stares at the stars wistfully. He is ethereal in the moonlight. It is a mystery that Chan has survived this far without him, that his heart had never clawed its way out of his chest in search of Wonwoo.
“Is it a crime to want you?” Chan hears Wonwoo say. His eyes are still glued to the night sky, as though the stars would satiate his longing.
He thinks he made it up. That the words are some sort of alcohol induced delusion. That Wonwoo was never real after all, just an apparition that Chan’s mind crudely conjured as a way to cure his emptiness.
Wonwoo is real, though. As real as the metal bars that he is situated against. As real as the occasional noises of cars below them. As real as the stars in the night sky. As real as his hand that rests above Chan’s own.
Chan dumbly responds with, “What?” His voice is hoarse.
Wonwoo sighs. His fingers curl and he runs his other hand through his hair. “I’m trying to say that I am in love with you.” There are sirens off in the distance somewhere. “That I have been in love with you from the moment that I met you. Maybe it took my mind longer than my body to realize, but Lee Chan I love you.”
He gasps. They stare at each other and Chan almost kisses him right then and there. The shapes of Chan’s hand swirl under Wonwoo’s. His body will not listen to his mind, his mouth dry of words no matter how many times he opens it. Instead, he yanks his hand out of Wonwoo’s grasp and runs.
His feet barrel uselessly along the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment. Surprisingly, his face is free of tears. At the very least, his apartment is a mere block away from Jeonghan’s and he shuts the door and sinks against it in no time.
The cold feeling of emptiness shivers through his bones. He wants to be everything he is not, and the one thing he truly wants is to be Wonwoo’s. And yet, he is sitting here all alone on the cold tile floor.
A knock on the door behind him resonates through his body. “Chan? I know you’re in there, please open the door.” Hansol’s voice is muffled by the door but it is unmistakably his.
The universe moves too quickly and Chan finds himself standing across from Hansol. The latter does not say anything, patiently waiting for Chan to speak up. “What are you doing here?”
Hansol’s eyebrows furrow. “I saw you run out of Joshua’s apartment. You look like you are about to cry. What has been going on with you, Chan?” He hesitates before he speaks again. “Are you okay?”
Chan sighs and slightly glares at Hansol. His head feels too full of cotton to register the rudeness of the action. “I don’t get why you care. It’s my life. Any decision I make, good or bad, does not affect yours in any way.”
“Don’t be selfish, Chan. Do you not understand how much everyone is worried about you? Jeonghan cries so much thinking about how he can’t fix whatever is wrong with you. Seungcheol blames himself all the time. Soonyoung and Seungkwan care so much as well, but my point is either face reality or don’t pretend to have cared about any of us.”
With that, Hansol slams the door. The echoes of his footsteps permeate in Chan’s brain long after he leaves. Selfishness is a disease, and unfortunately from the moment he was born, Chan was infected with it.
This time, he ends up crying. He barely makes it to his room, out of instinct that Soonyoung should not see him this way if he were to come home.
The night passes by and he cannot sleep. Not when he hears Soonyoung stumble into the apartment, the soft voice of Jihoon following him and making sure he made it to bed. Not when the golden rays of the sun creep under his curtains. Not when he hears the door open and close as Soonyoung has left for the day.
He lays in bed, staring at the ceiling as if it contained the stars from the prior night. Exhaling, he turns to his side and reluctantly pushes himself out of bed. Chan cannot stand to look at himself in the mirror and he washes his face for a semblance of sanity. The monster that destroyed his life with a single fell swoop would only stare back at him.
It does not help. He goes back to bed moments after, bringing the blanket over him once again. It feels wrong. It is too hot, but too cold without a blanket. The position of the blanket does not feel right, no matter how many times he tries to reposition himself. The room is too bright from the sunlight, but the blinds are closed and he cannot fix it much more than that.
He tries to check his phone and sees numerous messages from his friends. He ends up turning his notifications off and mindlessly plays a phone game. That is all he is capable of. Moronic tasks that even a monkey could do. He could never think, create like a normal person.
Soonyoung returns to their apartment and quietly knocks on Chan’s door. Chan feigns being asleep to avoid him, though he knows it is only a temporary bandage before he has to face losing everyone he loves.
Curiosity gets the best of him and he ends up opening his messages.
Boo Seungkwan
-Are you ok?
-Hansol didn’t mean to be so harsh, he was just worried
-We all are
-Please respond
Chwe Hansol
-I’m sorry
Choi Seungcheol
-I love you so much, I hope you know that
-Please let me know you are alive at least
Unknown Number
-Hi this is Jun ^-^
-I got your number from Seungkwan
-Is everything ok? I saw you run out of the party
-You looked upset
Unknown Number
-Do you know what’s going on with Wonwoo?
-He won’t talk to me
-This is Mingyu btw
Yoon Jeonghan
-Chan, can we talk?
-I’m sorry I didn’t try so hard to reach out before
-I just want you to feel better
-Whatever you are going through, know you don’t have to alone
Kwon Soonyoung
-I bought you food
-It’s in the fridge whenever you wake up
Chan has half a mind to switch off his phone and go to sleep. The reminder of his hunger got the best of him though, and he carefully removes his blanket and creeps out of his room.
Soonyoung, thankfully, is in his own room. Surprisingly, he does not confront Chan and remains where he is even after Chan makes noise in the kitchen. The actions of all his friends are so confusing. Chan does not want to risk Soonyoung changing his mind, so he does not bother heating up his food and instead scurries back to his room.
He rereads the messages as he eats the cold noodles. Logically, he knows he needs to talk to at least one of them. It ended incomplete with Hansol, and he owes them that much to finish it in finality. It is too daunting to talk to Hansol again though, and he brainlessly swipes between the chats to figure out which one would not make him feel as though his heart is going to beat out of his chest.
Chan wishes it could be none of them. The lack of sleep catches up to him and he clumsily closes the half eaten container of noodles. Seungcheol messages him once again while he gets back into bed.
Choi Seungcheol
-Could you come over tomorrow to talk?
His vision is phasing in and out of sleep and he unwittingly responds with an ‘Ok’ to Seungcheol’s text. His hand goes limp and he succumbs to a dreamless sleep.
The bell rings. Chan is ripped out of his restless sleep only a couple hours later. Soonyoung must have left in between the time he had fallen asleep and now, as the door was not opened after the ring. He has half a mind to pretend that no one is home, but he finds his feet trudging towards the door instead. The bell rings again. Wonwoo steps through the now open door.
The tears stream down Chan’s face unwillingly. Another point of self hatred, the waterworks that inevitably show up when he is mad. “What do you want, Wonwoo?” Logically he knows he should not release his frustration onto him, but he could not stop himself. After all, his shift of mood, and apparently personality, all boiled down to Wonwoo. Always him.
Wonwoo is as calm as ever. For some reason, that made Chan even more angry. “Please don’t push me away. I don’t think I can handle that anymore.”
People attract similar people, so Chan was certain that all he knew were liars. It is clear that Wonwoo is one as well. If not now, then back at the fire escape. “As if you ever cared about me. I know I’ll always just be a footnote in your life. Don’t pretend as though I am anything more, as if I was ever someone to you.”
Wonwoo does not say anything. He does not offer meaningless words of comfort, nor does he express his inevitable anger on Chan. Instead, he pulls him into an embrace.
Chan sobs in his arms, head leaning against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, like a prayer. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The arms around him tighten and Chan’s voice tapers off.
They stand there for minutes, hours even. His world existed there in Wonwoo’s arms. Wonwoo is silent the whole time, content in just holding Chan. He knows that he would eventually have to talk about it. To tell the truth for once in his life, to not give up.
He wipes his eyes and reluctantly pulls out of Wonwoo’s hold. “I’m sorry for running away,” his voice is breathy and Wonwoo finds him a tissue to blow his nose into.
“I meant everything I said yesterday, Chan,” Wonwoo says slowly. “And I know it’s selfish, but I would rather have even this small moment with you now than forever with anyone else. And I’m sure now that you don’t feel the same way but-”
“I love you,” Chan interrupts Wonwoo, before his brain catches up to his mouth and the words refuse to come out.
Wonwoo is taken aback, clearly not expecting this. “Oh” is all he could say in response, hands positioned awkwardly by his side.
Chan continues, “I think I’ve been in love with you ever since I met you. Maybe even before that, my heart yearned for you in a way that frankly scared me. You’re the only person I’ve wanted to be honest with, whether that matters to you or not.”
Before he could say more, Wonwoo pulls him into another embrace and Chan melts into his arms. “Maybe soulmates are real with the way I need you,” he murmurs. Perhaps he has a soul after all, but all this time it was in Wonwoo’s possession.
He had always believed fate to be a pacifier that people use to pretend that their lives would be better one day. Even with this belief, he had found himself begging to something more times than he could count, that his life would be better someday. That he was capable of being wanted in a way that matters.
His life matters in Wonwoo’s hold, and for the first time he found himself not caring that he did not own his own soul.
He makes the trek to Seungcheol’s apartment the next day as he promised. Though the weight on Chan’s chest significantly lessened, he still feels worried for the inevitable sorrow he is going to face.
He will not be surprised when Seungcheol cuts him off once and for all, especially after what Hansol said. Despite the texts, Chan cannot help but feel as though his friends were just apologizing to placate him. That this whole time they were only his friends out of pity. The ugly feeling festers like a fire inside of him.
“Jeonghan insisted on coming too,” Seungcheol says to fill the silence that stretched the moment he had arrived. The three of them sit on the sofa, none wanting to be the first to talk about the actual subject.
Chan takes a deep breath. “I don’t think that I am a good friend, or even a good person,” is the only thing he could fathom to say at the moment. It is only fair to the two of them to be truthful in their last moments together.
Jeonghan looks miserable at his remark. “Why would you think that, Chan?”
He avoids the gaze of Seungcheol, who is sporting an expression that is bordering on anger. “I’m so selfish. Not to mention that I pretend to be someone I’m not, and it is never good to lie. When have I ever been a good friend to any of you?”
The silence stretches once again.
“How could you say that about someone I love?” Jeonghan has tears that had silently streamed down his face. Chan wants to comfort him, to apologize for distressing him, but his mind and body are frozen still and all he can do is wait.
“I think you give your acting too much credit,” Seungcheol tries for humor. He sobers up when the other two do not laugh. “Yes, maybe you never realized we actually cared about you. But that doesn’t make you selfish. Insecure probably, but you have done so much for all of us that having an ego is too contrasting with who you are.”
Jeonghan wipes his face. “I can’t tell you what is going on in your mind. But wanting to be accepted is not the same as lying.”
Chan lowers his head, staring at his hands clenched in his lap. His bones feel too heavy. “Then why does it feel like I’ve been pretending this whole time? Like I am a different person than what you know?”
Seungcheol’s expression morphs into something more gentle. “You’ve never had to be anyone but yourself, Chan. But maybe you thought you had to because somewhere along the way, you stopped believing that you were enough.”
The words are not a comfort. They are too close to a truth that Chan had buried deep inside his mind. He blinks hard against the sting in his eyes. “I don’t know if I could fix that,” he whispers.
Jeonghan moves first. He slides along the couch, sitting beside Chan, close enough that their shoulders touch. His hand hovers near Chan’s, as if he wants to hold it. “You don’t have to fix anything. You’re not some broken robot that needs a couple of screws to come back to life. We aren’t here to tell you what you need to do. We are here because we love you, Chan.”
“I have always been so scared that you secretly hate me.”
Seungcheol sighs, moving to crouch in front of Chan. He meets Chan’s gaze. “Don’t you get it? Hansol was mad yesterday because we don’t hate you. Because we love you. That’s why it hurt, that’s why he yelled at you. But that’s also why we are here.”
Chan’s throat tightens and for the third day in a row, he cries. He hates it. Hates how exposed he is when he cries. But his chest feels lighter, and for once the tears feel less like a weakness and more like a release. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking.
“You never needed to apologize, Chan.” Jeonghan murmurs. He holds Chan’s hand in his own, playing with his fingers. “But thank you.”
Seungcheol gets up and sits beside him. The arm he puts around Chan’s shoulder feels like a comfort that he had once thought was a forbidden luxury. “You’re allowed to not be perfect. To doubt yourself, to have a messy life. Just, please don’t shut us out. Let us be there for you too. And I promise, we want to. The two of us, Hansol, Seungkwan, Soonyoung, we all love you.”
Chan smiles. “I think I need to realize that more. That I’m not tricking you all into being friends with me.”
True to Seungcheol’s words, his life will never be perfect. There is no clean ending or sudden fix. Some days he will still want to be everyone that he is not. He does not know how to describe the feeling exactly. Perhaps it is relief, or it is feeling seen. Or, it is being alive.