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“What do you mean you can't sleep?”
Jeongin sighs, raking a hand over his face. He’d figured that out of everyone, Chris would understand, but they’ve been going in circles for about 15 minutes now.
“Hyung, for the fifth fucking time, I-”
“No, I get it. I heard you. I just don’t-” He inhales deeply, “Have you tried-”
Jeongin groans, cutting him off. “Yes, I’ve tried it. Whatever you’re about to say, I’ve tried it. I’ve tried melatonin. I’ve tried tea. I’ve tried changing my diet. I’ve tried everything.”
Chris presses his lips together, nodding. Jeongin can see he wants to argue.
“It’s not a big deal, hyung.” Jeongin tries to reason.
“Innie…”
Jeongin can see the concern written all over his face. He kind of regrets bringing it up to begin with, but Chris wouldn’t stop asking if he was okay when he saw the bags under his eyes. Yeah, sure, he looks like he got hit by a bus, and his cheeks are a little sunken in, but still. It’s not like Chris has any room to talk.
Maybe he shouldn’t be so ungrateful. Chris is just trying to help. Jeongin hasn’t been doing too well recently. In fact, things have been pretty bad for a long while.
Put simply, Jeongin can’t fucking sleep.
No matter how long he lies in bed staring at the ceiling, his brain just won't shut off. Nothing seems to help, and it’s driving him insane. He’ll get maybe two to three hours every couple of days, but that’s about it.
It doesn’t help that his mental health is already in shambles, and the lack of sleep makes it so much worse. Sleep deprivation does things to a person. His anxiety is through the roof. He feels helpless. If a doctor made him fill out one of those depression questionnaires, he’d be institutionalized.
“I’m really okay, I promise.” Jeongin lies straight through his teeth, and he knows Chris knows, but Chris doesn’t push.
“Alright. If you say so, Innie.”
Thankfully, he drops it for the night. It still takes a good amount of pushing before the Aussie actually leaves, though. It’s nearing midnight when Jeongin’s finally alone in his studio apartment, and he should be relieved, but all he can think about is the long night ahead of him.
He stands by the front door for a moment, contemplating what to do.
He could make something to eat, but then he’d have to wash dishes. He could watch TV, but he’s not really in the mood to scroll through streaming apps looking for something interesting.
He should probably shower. He can figure out the rest after.
☾
Sometimes, when he’s really feeling at his wits' end, Jeongin itches to ask Chris to put his MMA skills to good use and knock him out. Maybe if Chris weren’t so hell-bent on being fatherly, he would.
The apartment is silent. All he can hear is his own breathing and the occasional rustling of his sheets whenever he moves. The blackout curtains are drawn shut. The space is nearly pitch black. He stares at the ceiling, his body heavy with fatigue, thoughts muddled by exhaustion.
He’s just so tired.
All he wants to do is sleep, but his brain refuses to succumb. With every sheep counted, his frustration grows, and his eyes begin to burn, prickling with tears. Something about it feels so pathetic, crying like a toddler who missed their nap.
He’s so overwhelmed with everything. Nothing seems to go right. The ball of dread in his stomach continues to grow and grow and grow. He feels so alone, which is stupid because his best friend was literally just here.
Chris doesn’t get it, though, despite what he says. This has to be more than insomnia. It has to be.
Because it’s not just the fact that he can’t sleep. He’s also been falling deeper and deeper into this… darkness. One that leaves him blind, unable to picture a future in which he feels okay, in which he’s happy. It’s like he’s doomed to whatever this is for the rest of his life.
For Jeongin, there’s no light at the end of the tunnel. There’s no relief, no escape. There’s only suffering. He doesn’t know how much longer he can do it. The string is pulled taut, ready to snap, and one more night of staring at the ceiling until his eyes cross might do it.
Back when it first started, maybe four months into his freshman year of university, he’d chalked it up to the stress of adapting to a new environment and schedule. College is nothing like high school. Surely, being thrust into the adult world with barely any preparation would make for a perfect explanation for his restlessness, right?
But it didn’t stop, didn’t go away. Not once he finally fell into his new routine, not during spring break, not after finals when he was free of the burden of studying. It never stopped.
He considered taking a gap year at one point, but his parents heavily disapproved, uncaring of the crisis he was going through. He didn’t argue because they’d probably stop paying for his studio if he did, so it continued into his sophomore year.
It hasn’t gotten any easier to deal with, either, and Jeongin works himself to the bone to maintain his GPA. It consumes all his energy, and so everything else slips through the cracks. The only person he’s talked to outside of class in weeks—maybe months—is Chris, and that’s only because the motherfucker won’t leave him alone.
Jeongin wants it to end. All of it. He can’t do this anymore. He doesn’t want to do this anymore. This isn’t worth it, at least not to him. He can’t remember the last time he felt okay, the last time he smiled, and it was genuine. This isn’t how life is supposed to be.
☾
On a night where Jeongin somehow manages to fall asleep, possibly for the first time in days, he meets him.
Jeongin is sitting on a dock, staring out at the vast, dark ocean. There are no stars in the sky, and he can’t see the moon. The wood is freezing under his thighs. He wraps his arms around himself to keep warm.
The waves of the sea are hypnotizing to watch. He wonders what lies beneath the water. Part of him knows this isn’t real, that it’s just a dream, but he swallows the thought so he can enjoy it while it lasts.
He hears footsteps approaching, and he stills. His mind starts racing at a million miles per hour because not once, not ever, has there been another person in his dreams. It’s always been just him.
Alone.
Jeongin bites the inside of his cheek as the person takes a seat next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see it’s a boy with chocolate brown hair dressed in a white crewneck and white knee-length shorts. He’s barefoot, much like Jeongin himself, and his skin is tan and smooth, a heavy contrast to the cloth resting against it.
The boy doesn’t say anything, not until Jeongin looks up at his … face? Something’s not right.
Where he’d been expecting a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth, there’s nothing. It’s obscured by blurriness, and no matter how many times Jeongin blinks, it doesn’t go away.
Jeongin should be terrified to see a faceless person sitting next to him on the edge of a dock, but an odd sense of safety washes over him. The boy tilts his head to the right, his hair blowing slightly in the wind.
“Who are you?” Jeongin asks in a whisper, his voice tight.
“Are you sad, Jeonginnie?”
Jeongin blinks, his breath hitching in his throat. The nickname makes his heart stutter, and something in the back of his head is telling him to run. But curiosity is one hell of a drug.
“How do you know my name?”
The boy laughs softly. “Do you remember where you are, Jeongin?”
Oh, right. He’s dreaming. Duh.
“Sorry.”
“So, are you sad?” The boy asks again, pressing his palms flat to the platform beneath him and kicking his legs. His head is still turned towards Jeongin, but Jeongin has to look away. The whole facelessness thing is starting to creep him out.
Maybe he shouldn’t pass up this freaky, free therapy session, though.
“Uhm- I guess.”
“Why?”
Jeongin shrugs, staring at the water. If this were real, he’d probably be able to see his reflection on the surface. “I don’t know. Can’t sleep.”
“Aren’t you sleeping right now?” The boy teases, and Jeongin shoots him a glare.
“Aren’t you, like… a creation of my subconscious mind? Don’t you know what’s wrong?”
He hums, tilting his head up towards the empty, barren sky. “I don’t think so.”
Now Jeongin’s confused. He furrows his eyebrows, using all his brainpower to come up with an explanation for the sudden existence of his new imaginary pal.
“What’s your name?” Jeongin asks.
“I don’t know.”
What?
“Goodbye, Jeonginnie.”
Jeongin’s eyes go wide with panic as he realizes what’s about to happen. He’s not ready to wake up. He wants answers.
“Wait- no-” He reaches out to grab the boy by the arm, but he’s already gone.
Jeongin wakes with a start, breathing heavily. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, and his eyes are wet with tears.
“What the fuck…” He mumbles.
He picks his phone up off the nightstand. The time reads 8:44 am.
Wait.
Huh?
“That can’t be right..”
By the grace of the gods, Jeongin somehow slept for five uninterrupted hours.
☾
There’s only one thing on his mind for the next couple of days.
Dream boy.
Not a very creative name, but he wasn’t given much to work with. The kid doesn’t even have a face, for fuck sake.
Something about the whole thing is just so weird. Some strange, possibly celestial being shows up in Jeongin’s dream, he’s able to stay asleep for more than two hours that night, and he doesn’t want to snap his own neck when he wakes up the next morning.
He has so many fucking questions.
If he told anyone about it, they’d probably think he’s going nuts, and that probably wouldn’t be too far from the truth. Part of him thinks he should be a little more scared of the person suddenly showing up in his dreams.
The week drags on at a torturous pace, and try as he might, Jeongin doesn’t get more than a couple of hours of unfulfilling sleep every couple of days. He doesn’t see Dream Boy again, which has him feeling utterly hopeless.
☾
Every night, Jeongin tries to replicate how things were when he met him for the first time. He lies in bed, still as a rock, hands folded on his stomach and eyes trained on the grooves of the ceiling. He tries to keep his mind blank, but it just won’t shut up.
He gives up after the sixth day of disappointment.
He meets his stranger again on the seventh.
Jeongin is sitting in the middle of a park, on a metal bench. It’s dark, once again, and the sky is still absent of stars. It’s not as cold as it was on the beach, but the cool air still nips at his neck and makes him shiver.
“Funny seeing you here.”
Jeongin startles, whipping his head around to find Dream boy standing behind him. He places his hand over his heart, heaving a sigh.
“You scared me. And what are you talking about? This is my dream.”
Dream boy snorts, then moves around the bench to take a seat next to him. He’s still dressed in white, and his face is still all blurry.
“How are you, Jeongin?”
Jeongin studies him for a moment, not quite sure how to answer. He lets his gaze fall to the grass underneath his feet.
“Tired.” He answers honestly.
“Are you sad?”
Jeongin huffs, rolling his eyes. “You asked me that last time.”
“Maybe I’m hoping for a different answer.” He hums.
Jeongin presses his lips together. There’s really no harm in opening up to a figment of his imagination.
“Yes, I’m sad.” He confesses. “I’m sad, and I’m drained, and I really want to give up.”
Dream boy nods, urging him to continue.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel so numb and heavy all the time. I don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything.” He says, clasping his hands together in his lap. “I haven’t talked to anyone besides Chris in forever. I’m sure my old friends hate me by now.”
“Mm, I think they’d understand if you told them.”
“It’s not that easy, man. It’s- ugh. I don’t know. It’s not just that. I feel like this isn’t worth it. Like- Like life isn’t worth it. I can’t see myself actually being happy.” Jeongin’s voice shakes, his emotions fighting to get the best of him. “I mean, seriously. Am I supposed to just work every day for the rest of my life until I die?”
“Well, something like that, yeah.”
Jeongin blinks rapidly, processing, then a smile tugs at his lips. He can’t stop himself from chucking a bit, not expecting such a blunt answer.
“But there’s more to it than that.” Dream boy continues. “You just have… tunnel vision, I guess. You’re so focused on all the bad shit that you don’t see the good, y’know?”
Jeongin stops laughing, and he clears his throat. That’s not exactly what he wanted to hear.
“It’s hard to appreciate the good stuff when I’m so exhausted all the time.” He grumbles.
“I think you’re exhausted all the time because you don’t appreciate the good stuff.” Dream boy argues, sounding sure of himself, like a smart ass.
“You just don’t get it, bro.” He grumbles, shaking his head.
“I think I get enough, Yeni. I don’t think you want to die. I think you just want to be okay.”
Jeongin scoffs, “Obviously.”
“So, let yourself be okay.”
“Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?” He snaps, starting to get irritated. “Don’t you think I would if I could?” He tries to meet Dream boy’s eyes, but- right, he doesn’t fucking have any.
“You can.” He says simply, Jeongin’s unnerved by the lack of… well, everything on his face, so he looks away. “Goodbye, Yeni.”
“Hang on- I’m not done talking to-”
Jeongin wakes.
“-you. Fuck!”
☾
Dream boy’s words plague his mind, running through his brain on repeat.
‘So, let yourself be okay.'
What the fuck does he know? He doesn’t even exist! The solution isn’t that simple. It can’t be. Right?
The more he thinks about it, the less it makes sense, but he still puts a bit more effort into ‘letting himself be okay’. Whatever the fuck that means.
He starts with making and eating breakfast every day. Something he never used to do, and he feels stupid because he feels so much better after filling his stomach in the morning. It’s not world-changing by any means, but he has just a tiny bit more energy throughout the day.
That’s the only change he’s made so far, not having the motivation to do anything more.
Every night, he silently begs for another visit from Dream Boy.
Most nights, he’s left disappointed.
☾
Dream boy visits him about once, maybe twice a week. They sit together and Dream boy listens to Jeongin whine and complain until he suddenly says ‘goodbye’ and disappears, leaving Jeongin feeling a little hurt and lost. The longer they stay and talk, the longer Jeongin sleeps, and the better he feels.
One thing he notices, though, is that after every conversation they have, he’s a little lighter the next day. It doesn’t feel like his bones are made of cement, and his head doesn’t feel like a bowling ball balanced on his neck.
It’s stupid, crazy, and confusing. This stranger shows up in his unconsciousness, and suddenly things start changing. Improving.
Jeongin still doesn’t tell Chris about it. He wouldn’t even know where to start, but Chris notices the subtle difference.
“Your eyebags have gotten smaller.” He points out when they’re eating lunch together on campus.
“Gee, thanks, hyung.” Jeongin deadpans, stuffing his cheeks with the chocolate croissant bought for him.
“Are you finally getting some sleep?”
“Something like that.” He affirms, ignoring the disgusted look he gets for talking while chewing.
“Well, I’m glad.”
☾
“Why do you always leave so fast?” Jeongin asks.
They’re sitting at the top of a hill, the night above draping them in darkness. There’s one star in the sky. Jeongin watches it intensely, as if it’ll vanish if he looks away.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Can’t you just… stay?”
“I don’t think it works like that.”
“Then make it work like that.” Jeongin pleads, daring to look Dream Boy in the face. Or- y’know, the lack of face.
Although recently, Jeongin noticed the outline of the boy’s jaw is unobscured. He can just barely see the sharp edges that make up his bone structure. He wants to reach out and trace his finger over them, but knows better.
“I wish I could.” Dream boy murmurs.
“Yeah, me too.”
“Goodbye, Yeni.”
“Goodbye, Dream boy.”
☾
Jeongin meets up with an old friend on a sunny afternoon. They sit together at a picnic table in the courtyard, one that's tucked under the shade of a large willow tree.
“I’ve been worried about you, Jeongin,” Felix tells him, a sad smile on his lips.
“I know, I’m sorry.” He replies in a quiet voice. Guilt is eating him alive, coiling in his gut and settling there as he tries to avoid Felix’s pitiful gaze.
“Where have you been?”
“Nowhere, I guess. I’ve just been… tired.”
Felix nods, but Jeongin knows he thinks it’s a bullshit answer. To be fair, it is a bullshit answer.
“Are you gonna disappear on me again?”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Good. I’ve missed you.”
They catch up on everything Jeongin’s missed, talking for a couple of hours. Jeongin finds himself actually, genuinely smiling. The life that had been sucked right out of him was beginning to seep back into his soul, and he wanted to soak it all up and appreciate it like Dream Boy had told him to.
☾
There are two stars in the sky when Dream Boy takes his place next to Jeongin by the lake.
“You talked to an old friend.” Dream boy says.
“I did.” Jeongin confirms. “We met up for lunch. I hadn’t seen him in a while so I thought I should reach out. I’m glad I did. I missed him.”
“I’m proud of you.”
The words make his cheeks burn and his chest warm.
Jeongin can see just a little bit more of his face tonight. He doesn’t let his eyes drift anywhere else, trying to commit the sight to memory.
“Who are you?” Jeongin asks. The chances of getting a real answer are slim, but he tries his luck anyway.
“I don’t know.” Dream Boy responds.
Go figure.
Jeongin sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “Will you ever?”
“I don’t think so.”
☾
When Jeongin feels particularly down, he seeks comfort in remembering Dream Boy’s words. They keep him going, keep him from spiraling further into the dark thoughts that threaten to yank him down into places he can’t crawl out of.
He isn’t cured by any means. He still barely gets any rest, but some days are easier than others. He wants to know more about the stranger who’s saving his life. He wants to talk to him about something other than himself. He wants to learn everything about him, but it’s hard to get to know someone who only exists in a liminal space between states of being.
All he knows is that Dream Boy makes him feel a little more alive. A little less empty. A little warmer. Maybe that’s outrageous, but he has nothing else to cling to.
☾
He hears Dream Boy before he sees him tonight.
He looks around, scanning the empty lavender field, trying to spot the boy in white he’s become familiar with. There are a dozen stars in the sky tonight.
Jeongin searches for the source of the voice. The ground is rough under his bare feet. The grass tickles his ankles as he follows the melody.
This is new. Dream Boy has never sung before.
When I open my eyes and get up
I wish I felt more rested
I wish I can have a night with good dreams
Like the sun that goes to sleep at night
I want to peacefully fall asleep
For a tomorrow that will shine brighter
Okay, the lyrics feel a little targeted, Jeongin thinks. It’s an oddly familiar song, too, but he can’t name it. It’s on the tip of his tongue, and it’s so frustrating.
Tonight, I’m awake again
It’ll probably be like this tomorrow night, too
So tell me now, I’ll find a way
Tomorrow night, there is no other way
I can't sleep
“Alright, wise guy, where are you?” Jeongin demands, sick of walking around aimlessly.
Dream boy materializes out of thin air in front of him, scaring Jeongin so bad that he almost falls on his ass.
“Shit- c’mon dude!” He complains, clutching his chest. “You almost made me piss myself!”
Dream boy snickers. “Hello, Yeni.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Hi.” Jeongin rolls his eyes. “What was that song?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Of course not. Silly me. Do you know anything?”
“I know you.”
“Very helpful, smart ass.”
Dream boy shrugs, sinking to the ground to sit with his legs folded underneath him. Jeongin joins him.
“Your voice is nice,” Jeongin says after a few moments of silence.
“Thank you, Yeni.”
“Will you sing for me some more?” He asks.
“No.” Dream Boy replies.
Jeongin lets out a laugh. “Alright, asshole.”
Seungmin glances over at him, Jeongin wishes he could see the expression on his face. “Are you sad, Jeongin?”
Jeongin doesn’t answer right away. The question lingers as he looks up at the stars, thinking. It’s been a while since he truly felt like he wanted to kill himself, he realizes. The plan he made so long ago sits dusty in a forgotten corner of his mind.
He answers the phone when Felix calls, and he opens the door when Chris knocks. He eats breakfast every morning and dinner every evening. Keeps up with the laundry, stocks the fridge every week, brushes his teeth regularly.
Since Dream Boy showed up a few months ago, he’s been getting better.
“I guess not.” Jeongin finally answers, a soft smile finding his lips.
“That’s good. Are you happy?”
“I don’t think so.” He responds immediately.
“That’s okay,” Dream boy says gently. “You will be soon.”
Jeongin side eyes him, frowning. “That’s a little eerie.”
“Don’t think about it too hard.”
So he doesn’t. Instead, he tries to take in as much of Dream Boy as he can. His once completely obscured face becomes a bit clearer with every meeting, and Jeongin can make out a pair of soft brown eyes and the soft slope of his nose. He has a slight cupid’s bow, Jeongin notes.
He wishes he could see more.
☾
The last time Jeongin sees Dream Boy is the night before the Fall semester of his Junior year begins.
It’s different from all the other times they’ve met. For starters, the sun is shining bright over their heads. Standing in the middle of a vast field of brightly colored flowers, Jeongin can’t help but feel anxious. This doesn’t feel right. It’s like his brain is making up some fancy, whimsical landscape to soften a blow.
Dream Boy approaches him, and Jeongin can see the blurry image of a smile resting on his lips. It feels like a taunt, just barely being able to make out the boy’s features. It makes his stomach twist. After spending countless nights together, doesn’t he deserve to have a peek under the mask?
“Hello, Jeonginnie.”
“Hello, Dream boy.”
Dream boy takes in their surroundings, humming softly. Jeongin refuses to take his eyes off him, afraid he’ll vanish if he blinks.
“It’s a lovely day, don’t you think?” He asks, something melancholy in his tone. Sorrow under the sunshine.
Objectively, it is. The breeze is soft and calm, the air is fragrant, the sky is impossibly blue. It should be comforting, beautiful, but none of it does anything to quell the dread in Jeongin’s gut.
“I guess.” He mumbles, reluctant to agree.
Jeongin watches as Dream Boy bends over to pluck a blue flower from the grass. He studies it for a moment before holding it out.
“Here.”
Jeongin’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion, and he purses his lips. He hesitantly accepts it, turning it over in his hand. The stem is delicate against his palm. The fragile petals feel soft beneath his fingertips.
“Why-”
“This is our last meeting, can’t you tell?”
The world stops spinning. The wind stops blowing. Jeongin stops breathing.
“Wh- huh? What do you mean?” He stammers, voice wavering with panic. Jeongin tears his eyes away from the gift in his hand to search Dream boy’s face for an explanation, but when he looks up, the space in front of him is vacant.
Just like that, he’s gone.
He didn’t even say goodbye.
☾
Not a day goes by that Jeongin doesn’t long to hear that voice again. Sometimes, he’ll come home from class and go straight to bed, begging and begging and begging to see him again. Nothing else matters, not since the night he disappeared.
Why? Why did he leave? Why was life being so cruel to him? He’d finally found something to look forward to, something to distract him from how miserable he was, only to have it ripped away with no warning.
It’s unfair. It’s mean.
All the progress he’d made over the last few months comes crumbling down, leaving him standing in a pile of dust. It’s like a switch has been flipped. He’s right back to square one. The way he was the night he kicked Chris out of his apartment all those months ago.
Life continues, though, whether he’d like it to or not. Jeongin goes through the motions, going to school and turning his work in, occasionally answering Felix’s texts with much less enthusiasm than usual. Everything is done on autopilot.
It’s not really living. He’s just surviving.
☾
Chris lets himself into Jeongin’s apartment after class one day. The first thing he sees is Jeongin curled up in the bed, lying on his side while staring at the wall. His eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, his cheeks sunken in, his lips chapped and bitten raw from where he’s chewed the skin off over and over.
He crosses the room and drops to his knees next to the bed, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Jeongin’s arm.
“What happened? You were doing so well…” He whispers, rubbing circles into his bicep.
Jeongin doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even acknowledge him. He doesn’t have the energy or the will. All he wants is to see his Dream Boy.
Chris exhales. “Yeni…”
“Don’t call me that.” The growl rips out of him before Jeongin can stop it, startling even himself. Hearing the special nickname evoked such a visceral reaction within him, breaking his heart in half and unleashing all the bitterness that was hidden inside.
Chris jerks away, wide-eyed. “I- uh, sorry.” He whispers, somehow understanding that he crossed an invisible line.
Jeongin deflates, sending him an apologetic glance. He knows he shouldn’t have snapped like that. Chris didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no way he could’ve known. “I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s fine.” The elder cuts him off, unfazed by the small outburst. He won't hold it against Jeongin, not when he’s obviously struggling. “I’m just… worried about you. What’s going on? What happened?”
Jeongin doesn’t have a straight answer for him. “I don’t know, hyung.” He whispers, sounding broken. He sees Chris wince. “I’m trying. I really am, but it’s so hard.”
“Jeongin… I’m here if you need to talk. You know I’m always here.”
“I know, hyung.”
“I can’t stand seeing you like this.”
“I know.”
A suffocating silence settles over the both of them. Chris doesn’t say much else. Neither does Jeongin. They sit there, unmoving, for some time, not even meeting each other's eyes. Jeongin tries to ignore the guilt welling in his gut. He feels horrible for dragging Chris into his fucked up spiral.
☾
Jeongin doesn’t lock the door to his apartment when he leaves. With nothing but the clothes on his back and a destination in his head, he begins his trek to the train station. A thin layer of snow blankets the ground, crunching beneath his sneakers as he walks down the sidewalk.
Clouds hang overhead, blocking the afternoon sunlight before it has a chance to cast warmth onto his skin. Jeongin doesn’t mind. He’s grown to like the cold after experiencing nothing but for what feels like an eternity.
After he purchases his ticket with a handful of coins, Jeongin boards the bus and shuffles down the aisle until he reaches the last seat in the row. Sitting down, he directs his gaze toward the window, looking but not seeing. Nothing outside could interest him in his current state. When the rumble of the engine reverberates through the car, Jeongin tilts his head back against the seat cushion and lets his eyes close.
The world passes by, and Jeongin lets himself fall asleep for hopefully the last time.
☾
He deboards a few cities away from home. The smell of salt engulfs his nose as he exits the station, reassuring him that he’s right where he wants to be. The moon has risen, hanging in the sky accompanied by no stars. All too familiar.
The walk through town gives him time to think. Reminisce. Strangely, he’s overcome with peace, like he knows freedom is just within reach. Strangers pass, cars speed by, streetlights flicker, and Jeongin continues on towards the beach.
The wood of the dock creaks under his weight, slick with frost and breaking the silence of the night as Jeongin makes his way towards the horizon. The vast, dark ocean looks gorgeous. Jeongin doesn’t wonder what's beneath the surface. The curious part of him died along with his will to live.
The sound of the waves crashing against the shore fill his ears, providing something similar to white noise and soothing his aching heart. He thinks about what’ll happen after he’s gone.
Chris will be the first to discover what happened. He’ll walk into Jeongin’s studio and see the note taped to the fridge. Then his parents will find out, and they’ll cry and beg to know where they went wrong. Felix will be gutted, unable to rationalize the truth, telling himself it’s all a lie and Jeongin will be back the next day.
Selfishly, none of it is enough to change Jeongin’s decision. As much as he loves his friends, his family, he can’t bear continuing like this. If there’s an afterlife, he’ll meet them again and apologize for hurting them. If there’s not, he only hopes they understand why he had to leave.
Jeongin lowers himself to sit on the edge of the dock, legs dangling above the water. The water doesn’t move the way he’s used to, the way it does in his memories. It’s still, patient, and waiting. The cold air is biting, but grounding at the same time. He’ll welcome anything that challenges the numbness living in his ribcage.
He inhales deeply, pressing his palms against the wood beneath him and leaning forward. He’s ready for the unforgiving sea to take him. To envelop his body and replace the air in his lungs. To free him.
Jeongin closes his eyes, scooting towards his resting place.
A faint voice pierces through his thoughts, freezing him in place. “Jeongin…”
Jeongin’s eyes snap open, his stomach dropping. Sparks shoot straight down his spine, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand straight up. His limbs stiffen, his heart pounds, his mouth goes dry.
Is it him? It can’t be. He’s not real. This can’t be real.
“Jeongin.” He hears again. Clearer this time, erasing any doubt that it’s real.
He slowly turns his head, bracing himself for what he might find. Half-expecting the space behind him to be vacant, Jeongin’s shocked to be faced with a boy clad in white staring back at him.
He feels like he might throw up. He blinks once, twice, three times, and yet the boy remains.
It’s him.
“Y-You…” Jeongin whispers, unable to gather any semblance of a thought. With great difficulty, he drags his gaze up to meet the boy’s eyes. His brain short-circuits.
Nothing obscures his face, all his features exposed under the moonlight for Jeongin to see. All the air leaves his lungs, punched right out of him as he takes in the gorgeous person before him.
“Yeni.”
A sharp pain zips through his chest. He’s been longing to hear that for so long, dying to see his stranger again. Now that they’re mere feet apart, outside the realm of Jeongin’s unconsciousness, a name rings in Jeongin’s mind. One he’s never heard before yet carries an undeniable weight, like a memory he never had.
“Seungmin…?” He says carefully, unsure of how he knows it.
The boy tilts his head, a faint smile appearing on his face. “Yes.” He says softly, confirming what Jeongin already knew deep down. “It’s me.”
Jeongin’s head is spinning, hands trembling as he struggles to make sense of the situation. It feels unreal, like an illusion that could shatter at any given moment.
“How do I-... why do I know that?” Jeongin forces out, his eyes starting to sting with tears. An overwhelming sense of despair washes over him, unable to discern whether this is reality or not.
“You always have.” Seungmin responds, stepping closer and bending down to reach towards him, curling his long fingers around Jeongin’s wrist. He tugs, Jeongin follows easily, allowing himself to be helped up and led away from the water.
The warmth of Seungmin’s hand on his skin dispels any worry that he might wake up and find out this is some sick nightmare. This is real. Seungmin is real. Jeongin twists his own hand until he’s able to interlace their fingers, his grip tight.
“I know you.” He whispers, more to himself than to Seungmin.
“You know me.” Seungmin confirms anyway.
They reach the sidewalk that leads back to the train station, Jeongin’s ache to die left forgotten by the shore. Maybe he should be more wary of this strange being–who only ever existed in his dreams–showing up moments before he planned to leave this place behind. What if he’s going crazy? Hallucinating? Already dead?
Seungmin turns and smiles at him. All of Jeongin’s worries melt away.
“I hope you have enough change for two train tickets, Yeni.” Seungmin says, rubbing a thumb over Jeongin’s knuckles. “Because I’m flat broke.”
Instead of answering, Jeongin uses his free hand to pull Seungmin closer by the neck, pulse thrumming in his ears and tears still rolling down his cheeks. Seungmin closes the distance without hesitation, sealing their lips together in a bruising kiss. Hands to waists, tongue to tongue, both holding on with clear desperation.
The darkness, the self-hatred, the exhaustion, it all melts away. There’s only Seungmin and the connection that feels like it’s been there forever. There’s finally a light at the end of the tunnel. There’s a will. A future, maybe.
Jeongin pulls back, a string of drool still connecting them. His cheeks are pink, eyes sparkling.
“You came back.” He whispers.
Seungmin laughs quietly. “I’ll stick around this time.”