Work Text:
Jungsu has long loved gardenias. He was born in late June, near the gardenia blooming season. He doesn't describe it as a coincidence, but rather a destiny. For a long time, he has ascribed every aspect of his life to the characteristics of this plant.
His first encounter with gardenias was when his mother arranged a vase of them in the middle of the living room when he was twelve years old. He still vividly remembers what it felt like to see the flowers blooming with their sweet scent emanating from the blossoms. The smell evoked in him a sense of tranquility, bringing him to an imaginary hanging garden where dreams and reality co-existed. The fragrance embraced him tightly, hugging his neck like a silver necklace his mum gave him on his birthday. The feeling was visceral, to say the least.
And when he already has a place on his own, the habit of arranging a vase of gardenias and other flowers is still stuck with him. He appreciates every moment he can isolate himself from the world, placing flowers by flowers in the vase, pruning the branches and the leaves, trying his best to create a floral masterpiece by his own hands. Whenever the world crushes him to pieces, he will finally find his way back to this long-lived habit, a habit affirming his existence in this cruel world.
Maybe that's why he loves everything about the flower. He loves the zesty fragrance, the scent that brings him to peace whenever he is at war with the world. He adores how the flower looks, with multiple white velvety petals intertwining with each other at the center, which can be described as fragile and breakable. The leaves are soft, and he has this wish to lay his back on a bed made of them. The plant, similarly, looks as if it can collapse under any strong wind, which is completely opposite to Jungsu's appearance.
He has people tell him repeatedly he has a wide shoulder and a firm torso and he can be a strong pillar for anyone to count on, thanks to a healthy diet and regular walking and running exercises. However, before that, there was a time he forced himself to stay skinny by starving himself. It was painful to think about it again, it was a self-sabotaging habit he's glad to get rid of. Staying healthy was a long way for him to take, and somehow he has succeeded.
However, when physically, he can be considered healthy; internally, he's weak and mentally unstable. He has the memory of countless times he crashed out in his school's bathroom stall, with tears and fears swelling on every skin particle of his body engraved on the brain's surface. Even for now, he still falls prey to the melancholy hanging around him, to the point he locks himself in his room, letting his mind derail. He describes himself as vulnerable and defenseless, and that's how he's easily drawn to the metaphorical imagery of something that resembles him, and gardenias match that perfectly.
Gardenias were also the reason why his adolescence was a hell to get through. Korea has always been conservative, and any out-of-the-box self-expression would be a harbinger for the devil. He can't forget the time when middle school boys bullied him for liking flowers instead of superheroes. A fag, the word is still rotting in his brain like a cancerous tumor, forcing him to face the harsh truth of the reality he's living in. He did not understand then why having feminine hobbies was condemned as evil and sinister, while inflicting malicious behaviors was manly and masculine. His inner child was scarred by that memory, and the aftermath was when he cried endlessly in the school's bathroom stall, to the point his mother was called to pick him up because he collapsed on the floor after hours of losing himself.
That incident still haunts him to this day, even when he has forgotten the faces of the bullies, and the fresh scent of gardenias sometimes feel like a sword caressing his porcelain skin. He tries his best not to associate his favorite flower to traumatic times, but he has never managed to do so. Because when one bad memory is gone, a new, more painful one is already knocking on the door, forcing its way in his life.
He's twenty five now, sitting in the chiavari chair on the back of the room, surrounded by waves of overwhelming laughters, watching Seungmin—his boyfriend, getting married to a woman whose face he has seen for the first time, who is walking down the aisle in the dazzling lights of the wedding hall. She is Seungmin's fiancée, someone Seungmin's family forces him to marry to preserve the bloodlines.
That was Seungmin's explanation when he told Jungsu he wanted to stop this relationship. Fucking weird. His voice was eerily calm when breaking up a four-year relationship. After that, it was silence, the silence that ached Jungsu's heart, the silence that tore everything they tried to build down, the silence of guilt penetrating through Jungsu's skin. It was a betrayal, it was an ever-bleeding scar that nothing can heal.
Seungmin was his everything for the past four years. Jungsu remembers meeting him at the flower shop, when the florist told him there was someone accidentally picking up the gardenias he pre-ordered. That was a terrible mistake, and he desperately wanted that for himself, but he was too scared to speak up for himself, so he stayed still like a coward in the middle of colorful petals. He was filled with fear, the fear of being confronted just because he wanted what he had ordered. It was Seungmin that broke the silence between them.
Seungmin was in the shop looking at roses when he heard that the flower bunch he picked was wrong. He approached Jungsu first, and his voice was warm and mellow, melting in Jungsu's veins like syrup. Jungsu would be a liar if he said he didn't fall for it back then. That was the voice of an angel, a god-like creature that was sent to lift him out of his mess. Seungmin stood in his blue flannel shirt and his jeans, rambling apologies for not knowing this was taken. It was really funny. Maybe it was a destiny for Jungsu to know Seungmin also liked gardenias, a flower that resembles him, a flower that represents all his love and fear, all his highs and lows, all his deepest secrets.
Something clicked between them immediately, and they walked out of the flower shop, holding posies, planning a dinner together. From a simple pizza date, their relationship had grown into something immensely significant, an indispensable part of their life. They couldn't dare to lose each other, for that would be a painful reality they can never accept.
For the first time in his life, Jungsu let someone in his flower arranging sessions, a holy ritual as he described. Every week of every summer, Seungmin would grab posies of gardenias, white roses, and baby blue hydrangeas that Jungsu ordered beforehand and stay at his apartment for hours, where they would try to beautifully arrange them for hours. It was exhausting, but with Jungsu, it was one of the happiest, most memorable times he wanted to cherish forever.
Jungsu wanted to stay in every moment, every memory they have created together. He was always there, laying bare his body for Seungmin to dissect. Every secret, every suffering, once belonged to Jungsu, now was Seungmin's too. And Seungmin did the same thing, cut open his heart to let Jungsu sink his body into it. They have become one, inseparable.
He remembered what it felt like to devour Seungmin's lips, have him bury his body deep inside, hearing him say, "I want you forever, and I want you only". He loved whenever he was able to kiss Seungmin, to feel the soft, velvety, cherry-colored lips, to taste the saccharinity melting in his tongue. Every intimate moment they had spent together was heaven to him, and they were too precious to throw away in a night, and Jungsu could now only chew on his pain like a hard pill to swallow.
Jungsu had Seungmin in every corner of his life. From the pictures on his desk, the records that reminded him of Seungmin, to every late night talk, every abroad flight, Seungmin's figure still lingered like an apparition. Once sweet and delightful to look at, these became reminders of how Seungmin had scarred him, carved into his heart an eternal pain that could burn Jungsu alive. Everything he used to have was a dream, a dream Jungsu wanted to tuck himself in forever, but now it struck him as a distortion of his love, his hopes, his desires. He remembered Seungmin having told him, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you" , and that became the keepsake of their unbreakable relationship. And Seungmin always lived up to that promise, until the very day he said he wanted to break up.
Jungsu's emotions are perplexed when he looks at the stage. On the stage, there is Seungmin, in a black tuxedo with his dark hair slicked back. Tonight is his night, a special night, the night that marks their separation. It doesn't taste sweet as Jungsu wants it to be, but it's a torture to his sanity. Walking towards Seungmin is his fiancée, or now is his bride. She is being accompanied by his father, wearing an ivory wedding dress with hand-sewn beads, something that suits her elegant features.
She looks perfect, and Jungsu can't compete with that. He used to dream of holding Seungmin's hand and devoting his whole life to him, yet this wish is flushed down the wishing well. He is stripped of his own desires, left with nothing to be held and adored. In that blank state, his mind ran back to the moment Seungmin said "Let's break up" so easily, so randomly, and so cruelly.
It was a Saturday night three months ago, when they were walking back home after a movie night. The cinematography was gorgeous, the script was thought-provoking, and the acting was visceral. Everything was perfect, until Jungsu realized there was something wrong with Seungmin's reactions. He was somehow distant, and he ignored Jungsu's words occasionally, as if his mind were wandering somewhere. Jungsu tried to brush it off, convincing himself that Seungmin was just exhausted or he had a tiresome day.
However, the truth was a monstrosity. Upon saying goodbye at Jungsu's apartment door, Seungmin casually said "Let's break up. My family wants me to marry a girl to preserve the bloodline. I'm sorry". The way he delivered it was weightless, and it almost felt like a joke. Jungsu pinched his neck, shaked Seungmin's shoulders, asking him if he was trying to pull a leg. Yet, he stayed silent. Despite Jungsu's constant confrontations, he remained unspoken, letting the thin air become the clearest answer.
Jungsu couldn't feel anything. It was too sudden, it was so sharp, it wrecked him unexpectedly, it bludgeoned him until he couldn't breathe normally anymore. He banged on Seungmin's chest, desperately searching for a plausible explanation of whatever was going on right now. But, replying to him was nothingness, was silence, was the breezy air of early April. Seungmin stood like a lifeless statue, an embodiment of death.
A part of Jungsu was brutally chopped off, and he collapsed right in front of his door. In the midst of his physical reactions, he couldn't see anything, but he could hear Seungmin's footsteps echo in the corridor, then the ding of the elevator, then nothing again. His mind was chasing questions that he couldn't answer, "Who was that girl he's talking about?", "Why did he leave me so suddenly?". He curled up on the hard ground, hanged himself on a thread of uncertainty, laid there until he lost his consciousness.
Jungsu woke up around 3 a.m., when the corridor had fallen into darkness. He was left alone by his beloved boyfriend, both romantically and physically. He was taken aback by his boyfriend's apathy, for that was the very first, and the only time he wasn't himself in front of Jungsu. He tried his best to drag himself into the apartment, now filled with melancholy and isolation.
On the countertop stood their flower vase, a porcelain vase of white jasmines. It was Seungmin's idea that they would choose jasmine as an alternative to gardenia since it was late spring and its fragrance bears resemblance to the zesty, hazy scent of gardenia. The aromatic blossoms infused their distinctively pure and sensual scents into the air. Yet, to Jungsu, they served as intruders, wrecking his walls of self-protection, exposing his flesh to the wolves. Just days ago, he and Seungmin still stood face to face at the table, trimming the branches, polishing the leaves, arranging the flowers into their positions. Now, the flower vase wasn't beautiful; it was ugly, repulsive to look at.
The jasmines, Jungsu once thought were a great idea, were now tearing his heart in all directions. They were not gardenias, and would never be gardenias; they could never soothe his soul. They apathetically stared at Jungsu, like reminders of how evil, how cruel Seungmin was to leave him in a fetal position. Their appearance looked like a betrayal, a cold-hearted sword hidden under soft petals. Their scents ripped his nostrils out, pushing their invasion into his head like a brain-eating amoeba.
He laid his eyes on the living room. He saw the couch, in which they uncomfortably squeezed their bodies into while watching movies. They both shared a liking for the pictures, with stunning scenes and melodic scores. He still remembered how they spent the night there, discussing whether the movie was great or not. He still remembered how they joked around in the blue light of the television and the noises of late night traffic flows.
The vinyl shelf stood emotionlessly next to the couch. It was Jungsu's proudest collection, with various records in multiple editions, some in limited stocks. He always unwinded after a long day at work by playing the score of his favorite movie and journaling in his diary. It was his own way of living, completely detached from the world until Seungmin appeared in his life.
Jungsu could never forget the times they lounged in his living room, indulging in glasses of alcohol and slices of cakes, shaking their hips to the synth-pop anthems on the record player. It was his birthday, and the record was the very first gift Seungmin gave him. He appreciated it more than anything, more than any limited copy he owned. Looking at it being displayed on the wall right now, Jungsu felt assaulted by its presence; he couldn't look at it with a straight face anymore, for tides of sadness would have shattered him to pieces if he had dared to.
He tried to wash away his memories in this room, but he was simply unable to. He could never forget the wild kisses under the influence of alcohol, when they were too drunk to act innocently around each other. Seungmin was drenched in sweat, and Jungsu could feel his body's temperature rising under the tension of heat and breaths. They couldn't think straight in their heads, and all their actions were controlled by love and lust. Their desires to consume each other, to become one grew stronger and stronger, until they blacked out on the floor, with nothing to be hidden. That was Jungsu's first time, his first time for everything.
Four years passed, and from desires, they subdued to the despairs of Jungsu's heart, ugly and colorless. The vinyl collection became a blot in his mind, and all the good memories became malignant. Everything divine now turned into blasphemies, everything memorable now lingered on his mind like wrathful ghouls. He tried to grasp what was going on inside his head and what he was trying to do during the last hours, but he couldn't, for his heart was soaked in a bleak shade of gray, the color of nothingness.
Bridal Chorus is in the air. Jungsu is watching Seungmin slipping out of his grip in real time, and there is nothing he can do apart from accepting this reality. Every footstep the bride makes is equivalent to the growth of the crack in Jungsu's heart. The echoes are ruthless and brutal stabs to him, thrashing his head fiercely. The song, once a vow to preserve their love, becomes its death march, taking its life away no matter how he tries to save it.
Jungsu remembers telling Seungmin about his dream wedding when they were in his bed together. He wanted to be surrounded by gardenias, and he listed songs he wanted everyone to listen to during the ceremony. Seungmin would grab his phone and create a playlist containing mentioned songs, in the particular order Jungsu wanted. Now he's watching Seungmin getting married to someone else to the familiar melodies, a betrayal he has to suffer.
The morning after their breakup, Jungsu woke up, dampened in excessive sweat, tears, and saliva. The sun was shining through the window panes, burning his excruciated face. His eyes directed at the glowing orb in the sky, with his mind wandering somewhere unknown. He was losing his purpose of life, when vitality was being consumed by grief and terror. He felt dirty, impure, tainted by the presence of himself in his bedroom, the place where he considered a sacred temple.
He remembered having dragged himself into the room then immediately sunk into the sheets, without cleaning himself after everything had happened. He looked at his wet white shirt, seeing his body through the fabric. He felt uglier than ever, and all his self-deprecating thoughts told him to violently scrub the filth out of his skin. He tried to be clean, he tried to be strong, he tried to be someone Seungmin could hold onto, but when the purpose was gone, he was stripped of his desires to stay and feel alive, and all the things waiting ahead of him were stairways down hell.
He didn't bother to get out of his room that day. The presence of the outside world became a beast to his fragile heart, striving to prey upon him if he dared to step outside of the threshold. He could sense gangrene growing somewhere in the back of his head, blackening his skin, restricting his body from moving. Mentally, Jungsu could feel rot expanding; physically, he couldn't lift his legs out of stagnation, as if they had been immobilized. His stomach growled in hunger, in despair, cried out for a moment of attention, but it got nothing in return. Sadness had overshadowed the fundamental need of the body, making him fall prey to his self-destructive habits again, something he promised to abandon years ago.
A sudden realization clicked. It was Seungmin that he wanted an explanation from. He opened his phone, desperately texting and calling Seungmin, yet all he received was silence, the deafening silence that kicked him right through his spine, flushed his eyeballs with tears, setting his body ablaze. He tried to calm himself down, tried to make sense of Seungmin's words, but the painful last night memories haunted him terrifyingly, forcing him to quit.
Jungsu spent the next few days solving the conundrum in his head without going anywhere. The starvation, thought to keep his eyes open, turned out to be a killer to his own sanity. He forced himself to be rational, yet layers and layers of bitterness and poignancy stacked on his mind, driving him to lose himself. He blamed himself for being stuck in this mess, figuring out what to do when time passed. He blamed Seungmin for suddenly breaking up with him, leaving him right here, abandoning him. He hated the world with his heart, for taking away the love he cherished the most.
Jungsu was aware of his patheticness, yet he knew he wouldn't survive rotting away his heart inside for days. He had lied to his boss that one of his relatives died so he had to take a few days off, for his conditions resembled a grief-stricken person. But he knew that the lie would come to light one day, so after three days, he managed to pull himself together and get to work.
The day before that, Jungsu gathered his courage and looked at the mirror. What a fucking loser, he thought. His hair was messy and drenched in sweat, as if someone had chopped them all off and carelessly glued them back. His eyes were dark and hollow, with their souls consumed by dejection and hopelessness. His throat became too dry, and he couldn't utter a single word out of his mouth. He excessively coughed into the sink, with nausea inflating his stomach. His visions were blurry, and he collapsed right next to the bathtub.
He regained consciousness, and the disappearing survival instincts banged him with the desire to eat something. In a tumult of emotions, not knowing what to do, he dragged his heavy body to the fridge and ate whatever his eyes met inside, which was a green apple. The first bite, then the second, then the third, Jungsu chewed the apple slowly, calming himself down. He felt as if his soul was brought back to him, and the feeling of desperation went away for a short moment.
He went back to his bed, just to see his pillow was sprayed with his hair. This is really bad, he thought to himself. Everything he tried to do was to cope with the break-up, to find himself in a better light, yet he lost himself. He didn't realize the person standing, thinking, talking in his head, as if the soul was consumed and replaced with death. He realized he had to change, he didn't know how to yet, but he simply had to. The break-up had taken so much from him.
It was not a great idea at all, to step into daylight with your mind unprepared. He told himself, "It'll pass, it'll eventually pass", yet the rot will circulate on the top of his head. He couldn't manage to finish his job properly, and daily tasks felt like chores piling up. He wanted to wipe away his memories about Seungmin, yet it was impossible when everything he did reminded him of that exact face, the face he loved and hated.
Jungsu was scared of everything, scared of what the world would beat him with. He wanted to rush into Seungmin's place, to confront him, to shut the monstrous pain lingering in him down forever, yet his feet got cold. He gaslit him into thinking Seungmin would finally reach up to him first and give him a reasonable explanation, so they could be happy like they used to be. However, that day never came. There was nothing to be heard from Seungmin, and Jungsu slowly came to the realization that he actually knew nothing of that face. Facing him right now wasn't the Seungmin he had loved, but the ghost of a wrathful monster had replaced him.
The officiant's announcement brings Jungsu back to reality. He's sending warm welcomes, but to Jungsu, they are blades slitting his ears, sickening Jungsu to his stomach. He wants to rip his ears out, but words are aiming at him like cannonballs, trying to crush his face at any random moment. The moment he's scared is coming for his throat, slithering under his skin with its venomous fangs.
Jungsu looks at the man of his life, standing proudly on the stage, holding the hand of a woman whose name is foreign to him. The officiant then announces that both parents will give some words to this beautiful couple. Jungsu can't help but look at their elite demeanors, their practiced smiles, and immediately he knows what this marriage is meant for, an arranged marriage with economic purposes. For that reason, every word uttered from the mouths of the elderly sounds like blatant lies to Jungsu.
Jungsu is far better financially independent, but compared to Seungmin's family and the bride's, his money is meaningless. He believes that every expense should be split equally, and if he were honest, that thinking habit might have deteriorated how this relationship turns out. They both agreed on the rule of never borrowing money from the other unless it was an emergent situation. Jungsu didn't think much then, but looking back, it had diminished the very little chance of knowing Seungmin's background. He really thought he understood Seungmin like the back of his palm; however, that wasn't Seungmin he knew, but the representation of the person he once called home.
Three months passed in flickers of the streetlights, and not much had changed. Jungsu was happier at least, even though sometimes the memories ran back to him, stabbed him like millions of needles. His rhythm of life was going back to normal, and he started to find the joy in little actions he had to do. The hardest part of recovering from these heartbreaking memories was flower arranging. For four years, Jungsu was accustomed to occasionally having Seungmin buy flowers for him, having Seungmin come around and arrange the flowers together. Now, when left in solitude, he had to do everything on his own.
After a long time, he stepped foot in the florist's, where the blossoms greeted him with a carousel of scents. At the entrance, the lavender caressed his nose with a woodsy and slightly sweet fragrance, while the hydrangeas colored the ambience with their brilliant petals. To his left, there were masses of roses in various shades, along with bright carnations and Peruvian lilies. To his right, stood still the golden sunflowers, the vibrant chrysanthemums, and violet irises. The colors together were kaleidoscopic, bewitching, inviting, and Jungsu felt as if a part of himself was revived here.
Jungsu picked up the gardenias he ordered, chose some white roses and hydrangeas, then walked home. The morning sun was soft, the air was chilly, and suddenly life appeared to get better, even if it was in his mind. He entered his apartment, putting a record on, then he let himself immerse in this holy experience. He was feeling his youth reconciling with his heart right now, and every trauma seemed to have disappeared, at least for this fleeting moment.
In front of Jungsu was the very first flower vase he had made all by himself after years. A pure, unadulterated white was facing him, and he stared back at it, as if he was finding something he had lost along the way. The music had died out hours ago, so it was silence that infiltrated the air. It was the sound of tranquility, when his heart had already made peace with his new life he was leading, and he had gradually accepted the break-up. However, life had its own way to disturb him with winds and storms from the past.
When Jungsu took the trash out, he discovered that there was a letter for him in the apartment mailbox. He picked it up, then went up to his apartment. He sat down on the coach and took a closer look at the letter, and he noticed something familiar written on it.
From: Oh Seungmin
It was Seungmin's, the person who disappeared without a word three months ago, the person Jungsu swore to himself he loved the most, the person who left Jungsu in despondency for days. He was here, ready to come back and wreck Jungsu's life to pieces. For a moment, Jungsu's head was filled with flashbacks from his post break-up period. All the self-deprecating thoughts, all the self-destructive habits, they loudly echoed in his heart. Trembled, he opened the envelope, to see a wedding invitation and a letter.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the hell is this, Jungsu couldn't believe what he saw, even after he pinched his waist and slapped his face. The memory of Seungmin's last words cut his heart immediately. He didn't understand why Seungmin had to choose the moment his heart chose to forget everything, why Seungmin had to send him an envelope instead of calling, and why Seungmin didn't say anything that night. Jungsu put the wedding invitation aside, while the fear for reality, the desperation to know forced him to open the letter.
Dear Jungsu, my love.
This is Seungmin. It has been a long time since I last spoke to you. How have you been doing? I'm sorry for leaving you so abruptly that night, and I'm aware that I made you really depressed. I know that you deserve an explanation.
In short, my parents ordered me to the girl they have chosen. I regretted not having talked to them about you, even if they would have disowned me. I felt like a jerk because I never found a way to talk about my family matters to you. I was so confused with what to do in my life then. I knew that I couldn't object to their decision, and I didn't want you to get caught up in all of this, so I left you like that.
I'm sorry for not having found a way to properly tell you. I couldn't make sense of what I had done back then, and it was so cruel to the person I loved the most. If time went back, I would have done things differently, and I would have made everything possible for us to be together. I still remember my promise to you, yet I'm the one who broke it, and I feel so sorry for having done that to you. You deserve everything good in this world, and I don't deserve you now.
I know it's weird to invite you to my wedding, but I believe that is my last chance to say sorry to you. You can choose not to come there, and I understand your decision and I will never blame you for anything. It's going to be a strange thing to say for now, but you're the only one I love. I love you big time, and no matter what happens, that will never change. If we happened to be humans in our next life, I would find a way to run to you and make it all up to you.
I'll always love you.
Oh Seungmin
This was the worst thing that had ever happened to Jungsu. In three months, he had tried very hard to forget what it felt like having someone by his side, to enjoy his solitude. Now, all his efforts had fallen on the duck's feathers, and he spiraled back to the beginning. He wanted to erase Seungmin's face, but he was unable to. Maybe life would have been better if Seungmin disappeared forever, but Jungsu couldn't imagine, and he wouldn't dare to imagine so. He still loved Seungmin wholeheartedly.
The ink was blurred by his tears. The vowels and consonants were getting indecipherable, and Jungsu couldn't make out what was written down, for tears had covered up the paper, and his eyes. He wished Seungmin hadn't written this letter, so he could live in the privilege of ignorance forever. An unreal fantasy was always easier to accept than a bitter reality, which he could never swallow. Jungsu never wanted to live this nightmare, yet he was here, forcing himself to chew on it.
The sun was blazing through the glass panes. Hours ago, it was fondling Jungsu skin, warming his neck. This moment, the light was being magnified, directing at his body, hunting him down then burning him as if he were a Medieval witch. It wasn't loving anymore, it was cruel and discomforting. His sweat joined the streams of tears flowing out of his eyes. It made him feel dirtier than ever, like he was the one soaked in these woeful sins. His body was pathetically shrinked down to invisibility, and he couldn't bother to keep himself awake anymore.
It was evening when Jungsu opened his eyes again. The loud, chaotic traffic noises were raging, invading his broken heart. The sun was less intense, but the heat was still an invisible killer. He really couldn't feel anything, as sadness had taken over his ability to lift his legs. He was forced to sit here, to think about what had to do when everything went out of place again. What did he have to do now, when it was miserably apparent that he still loved Seungmin, and he still missed the memories they had together. They kept lingering on his mind no matter how hard he tried to erase them.
For all his life, he had been a coward. He had been running from reality ever since his birth, and he always had others stand up for himself. He still had flickering memories of hiding in the bathroom stalls, covered in bruises when his mother picked him up. He still remembered chewing on the wrongly served food because he was too scared to confront the waiter. When dating Seungmin, he was so happy to have him as a frontman, to be with someone able to speak up for him. Jungsu was heavily dependent on Seungmin, so when he was left alone on all fours, he couldn't make a decision by himself.
Would Jungsu ever grow up, or would he stay a child? The features of an adult couldn't hide his immaturity, something he was still unable to work himself out of. He couldn't believe the person sinking himself into the leather was the one who worked himself to the bones to pay off the expenses and buy his own apartments. The same person who had multiple jobs on his hands was the one agonizing over an unsalvageable relationship. That was still Jungsu, but that personality was far gone, was so strange, so unrecognizable. He did not understand why he grew miserable. His wish was only to lead a peaceful life, yet he constantly crashed into the spiral of sufferings, grinding him to powder. Tears had drained all of his energy. He wanted to believe that this was only a lucid nightmare, or maybe he's living in a coma, and he would finally wake up from this. However, that was impossible, and he eventually had to face up with the ghosts of his miseries.
If I stay here, will Seungmin run back to me?
Jungsu wanted to believe that everything was a joke, and Seungmin would knock on his door and surprise him with something else. Jungsu would get angry, but it would be better than this reality, where a wedding invitation was attached to the apology. He had to swallow the truth inside his stomach, and live with it for the rest of his life. Time was crueller than anything; he thought three months was going to be enough for him to escape this hellhole, turned out he hadn't made it out of the bottom, and he got sucked deeper in it.
"I want you to be forever happy", that wish from Seungmin circulated over his head. If that was what Seungmin wanted, why did he have to excruciate Jungsu to the deepest point of his heart? Happiness wasn't at hand anymore, it had long flown away in the motion of a butterfly. The hole he dug to hide his emotions would soon overflow, but he could only keep pouring and pouring, until his heart couldn't feel anything. It was three months ago all over again, and Jungsu wasn't ready to fight the battle with his inner demons.
"Jungsu-ah, you're my gardenia"
Jungsu could feel Seungmin's voice flicking through his mind like a meteor. He swerved his head to the countertop, and sweet scents were emanating from the flowers. They were reaching their hands to him, telling him they would lift him out of this mess. The roses and hydrangeas were stretching its blossoms, spreading their fragrances, but Jungsu had his eyes on the unbloomed gardenias. They were less attractive now, but in a few days, the white petals would crack open the buds, painting his kitchen with its shade of pure white, infusing his place with its refreshing scent, which could be sensed from every corner of his apartment.
The flowers were telling him something. Maybe in their ephemeral time of being alive, they had created something that would last long like a legacy. This moment was one of the rare times something sparked in Jungsu. He realized that his life was much more than love. He devoted so much of himself to his relationship with Seungmin that colors of himself gradually disappeared on his body. Even when there was nothing left desirable, he would desperately seek a strand to hold onto forever, which upon looking back sounded so pathetic and selfless. This might be the perfect time to gracefully end this feeling, and acceptance was what he had to go through.
The day after, he went to the tailor's and ordered a custom suit. It was extravagant, but knowing this might be the last time he can meet Seungmin, money was not a big deal anymore. Weeks of suit tailoring passed, and the final product was exactly what Jungsu had dreamed of. It was a classic light beige Italian linen summer suit. He got this idea when he and Seungmin were scrolling through wedding outfit ideas on the Internet, and they encountered this particular color that they both liked. He still heard Seungmin's voice, "I really want us to wear this on our special day. You will look beautiful in it", and that felt really precious to him.
Standing in front of the mirror in the newly delivered suit, Jungsu could feel the rapid movement of the old memories running back to his mind. If Seungmin had been here, he would have complimented this fit, and he would have tenderly kissed Jungsu, whispering into his left ear that he wanted this moment to stay forever. Jungsu desired that feeling, the heat, the love, the tension of their flames, but they were all extinguished before their chances to bloom. The silence, the loneliness came back to him again like comeuppances for losing himself, for mindlessly devoting his existence to love, only to be left on his own.
"It is what it is", he sighed to his reflection, took the suit off, hung it in his closet.
And Jungsu's here, in the tailored suit, glancing his eyes away from the stage, scanning through the crowd to see faces he wishes he had known. He used to think about officially meeting Seungmin's parents or hanging out with his friends, but in the end he chickened out. He regrets having done this forever, for he has forever lost the opportunity to do so. "Why has Seungmin never said anything about me to his parents?", "Why Seungmin never talks about his family in front of my face?", these soul-searching questions are meaningless now, and guilt smashes Jungsu to pieces of flesh. He used to believe if two people are madly in love with each other, they can create a dreamlike love story, but that fairytale shatters too soon. When you love a man, you love his family, and Jungsu has learned that lesson the hard way.
That was his choice to stay as a secret while the love was kept as an oath. He couldn't even show remorse for his stupidity, for he was so blindly in love that he forgot how ugly reality looked. Every sound cracking open his ears now sounds exactly like the ones he encountered in his nightmare, where he and Seungmin were cut off from each other. He used to treat it as a joke to laugh around with Seungmin, but when it had manifested itself into reality, it became too late to be cured, and he is suffering the consequences.
His thoughts are drowned in the applause to the officiant's announcement. Here goes the next part of the ceremony, the vows exchanging. Jungsu has already accepted that whatever is going to come out of Seungmin's mouth might be blatant lies, so he just blankly stares at the delighted faces on the stage. He is too indulged in his memories, about what would have been, could have been, about every dream slipping out of his palms. The voices in his head are too loud for him to listen to what the bride is saying, until everyone applauds and it's Seungmin's turn to speak. This might be the last time he can hear the tender, honeysuckled voice that once was his.
Seungmin's voice, through the microphone, echoes in the room and in Jungsu's heart.
"I want to use this special moment to dedicate my vow to the very special person in this room right here. This is written with all my heart, all my love to you."
He stops for a while, looks at the crowd, then continues.
"You're the love of my life. I still remember the times we have spent on each other's side, the precious moments we have created together. For four years, you have always been on my side, loving me with everything you have. There we are, solidifying what we have with a wedding. You have always been the one I will cherish for the rest of my life, the one I will devote my whole life to."
He then looks down the gardenia pinned on his lapel, and he looks up again.
"I'm keeping our promise, which is to pin a gardenia on my chest near the heart. Gardenia is your favorite flower, and that is mine too. I want you to remember that this is the testament of our love, of my loyalty to you. Thank you for everything that has happened."
Unexpectedly, he turns his sight to Jungsu, who is gazing at him from the very far side of the hall.
"I love you forever."
The thunderous claps quickly fill the empty room, and Jungsu's fazed, flustered heart. Seungmin can still notice him after months of estrangement, even when his face is blurred by the lights. What should he feel right now, when in the midst of insincerities, stood bright the truth that he always believed in. He has Seungmin's promise engraved on his heart: "I will wear one right here, on my heart" when he casually said that "I want our wedding to be adorned with gardenias".
The flower was the testament of their undying, eternal love. Jungsu couldn't forget how beautiful, how priceless Seungmin's smile was when he said that, and that smile slowly turned into a kiss. They had kissed many times, their tongues had already carved deep into every corner of their skin, but this felt more realistic than ever. It wasn't pretty like the pictures, but it was the beauty of reality. The kiss felt deep, sincere, filled with hopes and dreams for the future, with all the efforts to build their love together. They had lost themselves into the passage of time, and nothing mattered anymore.
Jungsu's mind ran back to the moment he and Seungmin imitated a wedding inside his apartment. It was after they had finished arranging the flowers. Amidst the pure colors of the petals, the dreamy fragrance penetrating the air, two souls were standing still, having their eyes locked at each other's. They read out loud their improvised vows, all incoherent, full of fillers and mumblings. They set up a teddy bear as their officiant and announced themselves as two husbands—which they liked to call themselves if they ever got married. They sealed their lips with a deep, heartfelt kiss, a kiss that marked their everlasting love on the river of time, the river whose greatest job was separating souls.
Maybe that was why it all felt so genuine, more than whatever has just happened on the stage, on the faces of the crowds, which Jungsu couldn't dare to think if they were heartfelt or not. Looking at where Seungmin is standing, he tries very hard not to break down in tears, not to let his sobbing blemish the performance the rich are putting on. He can hear the laughter, the conversations, and he can also see the details on their faces, their bright smiles and their glistening glazes. Yet, they are flawed, they are full of hidden defects, they are crafted out of rush and hypocrisy. Jungsu can see through everything, even if they are sugarcoated with expensive, ostentatious settings and well-practiced expressions, for there isn't presence of love, which he and Seungmin have plenty.
He can tell that Seungmin doesn't love his bride, and vice versa. Everything is well-expressed through their faces, through their awkward interactions, through their distant smiles across the stage. It will be unbearable to Jungsu to tie the knot with someone his heart doesn't bother to care about, yet it's a reality for people like Seungmin. Being born rich is equivalent to having your life dictated from a very young age, to have freedom stripped from every aspect of your life, and to becoming a puppet in your parents' eyes. That's tragically dystopian.
Whatever show they're putting on is making Jungsu want to vomit. It is indeed a good-looking one, but it's nauseatingly pretentious, and he might go insane if he has to endure a second here. He can controversially stop everything, by jumping onto the stage, screaming at the microphone that he would take this man away, taking Seungmin's hands and fleeing from his hellhole. But he knows, he is unable to do so. He is well-aware that both he and Seungmin can't bear the consequences of casting aside their lives for one brief moment of flickering happiness. In the end, they are both cowards, just written in different fonts.
Maybe this relationship is doomed from the start. Jungsu always wants a relationship where they can love, share things with, and care for each other equally. However, there has long been an imbalance, which has been lurking beneath, depriving him of his desires. When Jungsu has to work until his bones are thin for money, Seungmin can have it easily. But that privilege always comes with a cut-throat price, which is freedom. Jungsu used to manipulate himself into thinking this would never be a problem when they finally got together, but that reality burst into fire the day they split. Equanimity has never been on his side.
Seungmin's speech is greeted with never-ending applause. Then the officiant announces that they have become husband and wife, the crowd claps loudly again, and Seungmin and his bride bow at each other. Everything happens too fast, almost as if it were a fever dream, a suffocating dream that Jungsu couldn't find a way to escape. He doesn't care to look at the stage right now, for he knows that there is nothing holding him here anymore, and he might have the apology he needs. That should be enough for a love that isn't meant for blooming.
Jungsu bittersweetly sits in silence of his own heart. This wedding would be his and Seungmin's, if he had opened his mouth, if he had killed the coward controlling his head. "Never blame yourself for anything", Seungmin's wise words now work like a counter-attack, for sometimes he feels as if he were to blame for how his love didn't work out. Even if it is what it is, it will never be easy for him to absorb this new life, for there will never be a way that everything will cascade into their orbits. No, everything has been distorted, twisted to deformity.
Love's Dream After The Ball is playing. Jungsu can see Seungmin and his bride waltzing under the sparkling lights on the stage, with starry eyes from parents, relatives, and friends looking at them. He sits there like a stranger, a ghost that lingers somewhere nostalgically. And now, that is the moment he decides to leave. He deserves some peace by his own, to find the person that has long lost, to reconnect with the world that he has left behind.
Jungsu leaves the wedding hall through the exit door, then walks to the rooftop. From here, he can have a clear view of the city, the tall buildings, the bustling roads, the chaotic traffic honks. Looking down the hectic life, the bustling traffic, he is unsure about what he should feel or do after this moment. Should he continue the way that he lives now, to indulge himself in sad memories, or throw it all away and rejuvenate his life? There seems to be no way to put his fingers around it. It has never been easy to throw away something that has been built on his youth, his love, his dedication, almost everything imaginable. This is a joke that feels so real.
Amidst the confusion, the concoction of emotions, Jungsu pulls out a cigarette pack and a lighter, and he smokes. For a very long time, he smokes again. He used to smoke on his balcony, for fear of damaging the gardenias, which are sensitive to cigarette ashes and smoke. Maybe this is a part of him that is different from the flower. He has been tainted by stress and mental agonies, and the pure, unadulterated part of him just withers away, all too fast. He misses it, he misses the person he used to be, but change is incessant, and change perhaps will never cease, and he simply has to accept this version of him, no matter how ugly, how abhorrent it looks.
He remembers Seungmin telling him that he hated the smell of cigarette chemicals when they were eating out. That's why he stopped smoking, until this very moment. Now, he's surrounded by the toxic smoke, and he's inhaling the scent of destruction again. Is it the freedom that he wants, the freedom from the cage of purity this relationship trapped him in, or is it just another prison that he will rot inside pathetically?
The creaking sound of the door cuts his thoughts. Jungsu turns around to see Seungmin, who is walking towards him. He flinches to see a familiar figure walking towards him, who is still in his stiff, suffocating tuxedo. Before Jungsu can speak anything, Seungmin has already spoken up.
"You're smoking again", there are grains of disapproval, and also worry in Seungmin's voice.
"How come you find me up here?", Jungsu exhales a pillar of white smoke, putting the cigarette out.
"You always love the evening sky, everything about it", Seungmin says.
"Don't you worry about whatever is going on down there?"
"As if I gave a fuck", Seungmin smears, walking over to Jungsu.
Still that familiar voice, still vulgar remarks Seungmin loves to make whenever he's upset, but now they aren't Jungsu's anymore. He looks at the face that has been through thick and thin with him, the face that now belongs to someone else that both of them have no idea about. How can he find another person like Seungmin, and how can he live down the flames they have poured their diesel into? All too fast, all too quickly, all too ridiculous life has turned out, like a torture chamber he's chained to.
An amber orb is stretching its beams all over the city. The wind is blowing through their hair, strong and relentless, too much for a peaceful evening. The clouds, bubbly and cotton-like, are lounging across Monet's canvas, where bright pigments of orange and red satisfyingly complement each other. They can't ignore the bustling noises below, which are stirring their disturbed, excruciated hearts.
It hurts to say something, but it's unbearable to let the silence ruin whatever they have left.
"Are you staying in this city?", Jungsu speaks up first.
"Maybe not. I'm moving to Seoul because I'm going to take over my father's company.", Seungmin answers firmly.
"Are you going to leave me?"
"I don't want to."
Silence settles around.
"Don't worry, I understand", Jungsu sighs, "This is what we are meant to be. I don't want to make a mountain out of something that can't be redone."
No reply from Seungmin. He might be thinking similarly to whatever Jungsu has on his mind.
"Look", Jungsu says, putting his hands on Seungmin's shoulder, "I love you forever, and I know you love me too. But we can't be together in this life."
He embraces Seungmin, whispering in his ears.
"I don't want to forget you, and I don't want the same thing to happen to you", Jungsu tries to appear strong, to be as apathetic as possible, but his tendency to be soft gives him away.
Seungmin hugs him back, burying his head in Jungsu's neck, and he's choked with uncontrollable sobs.
"I know, I know", Jungsu comforted.
Seungmin then slowly turns his head to Jungsu's face, cupping the other's cheeks, with tears wetting his lashes.
"Please, Jungsu, please listen to me.", Seungmin cries out, his voice trembling, "I will never forget you. You're my one and only, my closest friend, my soulmate, everything. Thank you for four years. I will never forget you, my love."
And for the last time, their lips touch. There's no room for desires to grow, there's no place for happiness to flourish, only a flickering moment to mourn the lost love, which has become strange. Jungsu can still taste the sweetness on Seungmin's lips, along with a faint scent of wine. He wishes he could hold onto this forever, to have his lips engraved on his memories. He agonizingly admits that he's not grown out of this relationship yet, and he's still afraid of what's coming for him ahead. He dreads the life without Seungmin, the life whose theme is distance. Maybe Seungmin does too, so he tries to linger on this kiss, for this might be the last time they can indulge in moments like this.
Between their chest brightly blooms the gardenia. The flower is white, untainted, still in the shade that Jungsu adores. It is an unspoken testament of their love, a taste of youth they can't forget, an unfulfilled dream that they have to abandon. No one has to know, and no one has the rights to know what the flower's meaning is to Jungsu and Seungmin, for this is written for two souls who are bound to separation, an ephemeral beauty of tenderness and destruction.
And soon, the flower will start to wilt, like the one before, and the one after this. That is the inescapable fate of gardenias. Jungsu remembers how he had to explain to Seungmin that he had to change the water and take care of the flowers regularly when Seungmin asked why they died out so quickly. "If you don't put your heart into this, it will never see the will to live", he said all the time.
It is pitiful how the relationship has turned out. A relationship is formed upon imbalance disguised as equality, concealment hidden under the name of genuineness. However ugly truth looks, whatever pains truth inflicts on him, Jungsu does not want to hold any grudges against Seungmin anymore, for it would fuel hatred and contempt, spoiling the very little moment they are having together. The love they had isn't beautiful, it isn't a dream, but at least it is real, and it feels sincere more than anything that has happened to him.
Seconds pass by, and their time is running out. Soon, they will part ways, setting their foot on their own paths.
Maybe in another life, they will escape the pains they have to endure.
Maybe in another life, they will achieve the dreams they always long for.
Maybe in another life, they will find each other again.
