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"What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it?"
- Good Grief, by Bastille
"You're still shining,
You're still like a fragrant flower,
Now trust me, hold me again,
So I can feel you, hold me"
- Hold Me Tight, by BTS
---------------
"Hyung...Cein's dead."
They said when you enter algor mortis, the third stage of death, you will feel your entire body grow cold. I felt dead at that moment, except it happened in an instant instead of the scientific process of 18-20 hours, and except I am certainly not dead, as my pulse was racing against my skin.
"Dogeon," I called out, voice shaking like my hands that were gripping the phone. He needs to be called out; making a prank about it once is funny, twice is straight-up unacceptable. Not to your hyung, no. You don't joke like that.
"I came to the funeral yesterday," Dogeon's words pierced like bullets into my skin. "Hosu's in the hospital and Jooan's in jail...I visited them, too. I helped Jeha calm down because he was sobbing in Cein's casket all night...hyung, I cannot look after them anymore, I used up my day-offs. Can you check in on them? Cein has very few visitors..."
I ended the call and scrolled through my recent contacts furiously. I cannot hear any more of this nonsense. Cein's number called me recently, but I was at the university, and my boarding school confiscates our phones the entire week. I called him back. Ring after ring competed with the sound of my racing heart. Answer the call, Cein. I paced around the school parking lot and snarled a curse at the students who greeted me. Ring, ring, ring. What is up with this guy? Two more rings, then a flat line. A voice of the operator informed me that the user of the number cannot be reached. I ended the call again and cursed, before striding vehemently towards my car.
Hyung, Cein's dead. No, it can't be. He was happy last week—I talked to him on Sunday before I entered school. I slammed my fist on the steering wheel to honk at the car that was too slow in front of me. "Fuck off!" Cein's dead. No, it can't be. I turned left towards the funeral service where he was working. I'm going to see him there at the door, grinning after I fell into one of his tricks. I would like to curse him, to punch him, to teach him a lesson or two about respecting his elders. But I wouldn't; I know myself, I was never able to scold or hurt him. Besides, his smile is among my greatest luxuries in life that my father's money could not provide.
Smile for me, Cein. Please be happy that you tricked me again.
The distance from the parking lot to the door was not that long, but I was running out of breath once I reached it. Tight ropes were squeezing in my chest the moment I saw his face in the list of the dead, along with their room assignments. No, it can't be. That bugger—he even went out of his way this time, didn't he? I think I'm gonna scold him for real now. I ran through the halls to look for the room assigned to him. I'm gonna scold him, and I'm gonna beat him up. I bumped into a girl working at the funeral home; I apologized, but I didn't stop. Yes, I'm gonna beat him up for once so he will learn.
When I came to the door, panting, the room was empty as I swept my eyes quickly to scan it. I knew it. The world was spinning as I was tired from all that running. He is playing me. I leaned on the door frame, catching my breath, before braving a glance towards the casket.
Cein was smiling at me. He was smiling in his uniform, inside a frame, sitting atop the wooden casket.
If I weren't suddenly pulled into a hug, I may have collapsed on the floor. Cein's father caught me just in time; he was whispering gratitude to me as I melted into his arms. Cein's smile back at me wasn't moving. No, it can't be. I regained the strength on my feet and politely broke away from his father's embrace. He will need scolding. I ran towards the casket, eager to pull him out of his elaborate tricks. His father pulled me away again before I could even open it.
"Son--"
"No!" I yelled as I was being dragged away. "He needs to stop this--Cein! Cein, get up there and face your hyung--"
"He is dead, son! He is dead!" Cein's father gripped me tightly on both shoulders and met my eyes with his teary face. No, it can't be. "He set a hotel on fire...he is dead. I'm sorry, son, but he's gone..." The rest of his words were drowned by sobs, and he slowly let go of me and broke down crying on my feet.
No, it can't be.
I stayed frozen, staring at Cein's picture on the casket. I cannot breathe; the ropes in my chest are getting tighter. I pulled away my tie and unbuttoned my collar. He is still smiling back at me. Cein, I can't breathe.
Then, I was sinking...towards an unparticular destination. I felt the weight on my feet pulling me down into an endless spiral of nothingness. Cein's gone. Down, and down, I go. I can still hear his laughter after he delivered his joke to me last Sunday. The books I was gonna bring him to read are still in my car. Music books from my university. I bought new music sheets for his upcoming birthday, I wanted to surprise him again. Down, and down, I go. He is gone.
Cein's gone. He isn't coming back.
He isn't coming back.
"My Cein will be glad of...of your visit." His father was speaking to me again after he recovered, but I'm still falling. Cein's not going to laugh again. "The youngest was hysterical...we...that is, the smart boy and I...have to phone his parents as the security is concerned about his well-being." I'm still falling. He is gone, why is he gone? "Do...do you want me to call your parents, too?"
That temporarily pulled me back up. "No," I replied, sniffing the snot that was dripping down to my lips. I did not even notice that I was crying. I wiped them off with my sleeves. "No, I'll stay here."
Cein's father looked at me with concern. "Are you sure?"
I nodded, before sitting on the floor properly to reduce his anxieties. Cross-legged, I stared at his picture again. I left him before...this time, I'm staying.
"Very well. There is...there is some food here..."
Cein's voice faded in my ears as the world turned blurry again. If I close my eyes long enough, I could still picture him smiling, his face flushed with alcohol that we consumed all day. Fuck. I'm falling again.
Did I miss something the last time we met? I replayed our conversation over and over again.
"Hyung," he called out. "Do you like me?"
I nodded. "I do." He laughed.
Perhaps I should've said more. No, Cein, I love you. I care about you. I wish you to be happy. Why did I not say that? Fucking stupid.
My phone vibrated after a few minutes, pulling me up temporarily again. Jun-ho's calling. I ignored. It vibrated again after a while; the screen's now wet with all my tears. I ignored it. It vibrated again; this time, it's Father. I turned it off.
What use is a phone nowadays? He called me, and I didn't answer. Cein asked politely; it's not as if he was intruding. "Hyung, can I call you anytime?" he asked. Yes, I said, like a fool. Anytime. And I missed it. He called me that day, and I missed it.
"I'm sorry," I said, tucking my knees into my arms and burying my face in them. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
I'm useless; all the riches and privileges in the world, and I'm useless. I couldn't stop the redevelopment of my neighborhood, and my friends lost their homes. Now, Hosu's in the hospital after being relocated to a new youth center, Jooan's in jail after moving with his parents, and Cein's dead. I am useless. Cein tried to warn me of the principal, and I didn't pay attention. I couldn't stop him from being transferred. I am useless. The one time that he called me for anything, and I did not answer. I am useless, and he knows that.
Yet, he forgave me. Fuck, he forgave me. He smiled when I honked at him after years of hiding in the U.S. He bore no resentment when I left him without a proper goodbye. Instead, he bought me drinks and food, and rewarded me with jokes, warmth, and laughter. Now the food being served at his funeral is growing cold, with no one to eat it. Why is no one coming?
When Hosu celebrated the New Year alone, Cein went to his youth center to celebrate it with him, with half of the roasted chicken that he and his father had not finished. I knew because soon, all seven of us were on the rooftop, watching the fireworks of the new age. He would not allow anyone to be alone—why is he now?
I gasped for air in between my sobs, but nothing will come. I love you, Cein, we love you. I'm sorry for not saying it enough. I'm sorry for not being the hyung you needed me to be. You're as stable and as magical as a sunset, did I not tell you that? I placed my head between my hands so I could think. Did I tell him that? Did I tell him how much he means to me?
The door opened again, pulling me out of this delirium, and I saw Jun-ho standing. No. I looked at Cein's father in betrayal, and he looked at me apologetically.
"Hwan, we need to go, you can come back tomorro--"
"No." I scrambled back to my feet and shook my head, wiping my face once more with my already soiled sleeves. "I'm not leaving him," I said, gesturing to the casket.
"Hwan."
"Leave me here," I said, raising my voice a little to remind him of his place. I've been too useless in maximizing my privileges, I would pull all of them now to bring him back to life—but I can't; what I can make sure is that he is never alone again. "I want to stay."
"Don't wait until your father comes in here, Hwan."
"Tell him not to come."
"I could, but he wouldn't listen, you know how he is. If you don't come home—"
"No."
"He will not blame you, Hwan," Jun-ho said, sternly, with a glance at Cein's father. "The only punishment you can get is being grounded. For others...I cannot attest to it."
The truth crashed down on me like a huge wave, catching me off guard. It was the moment that I realized my cruel upbringing. Cein's right, I am unhappy. I understood that I was not loved, but I now realized that my father was just cruel to anyone who loved. He sees passion in anything, and he kills it. My scribbling when I was young, my mother, my friends. When Cein's mother loved him, he killed her, too—in many ways but one. And now, it is my turn to die.
I took one glance at Cein's casket and followed Jun-ho out of the funeral home. I walked—no— dragged myself towards his car. I am falling again. He said something about sending someone to pick up my car. I didn't listen. I am falling again. I think Jun-ho half-dragged me inside the house, for I cannot remember my legs working. Inside, my father was fuming. He was yelling at me, but I am falling again. I looked down at the floor and saw it spinning in a blur. I am falling again.
Father grabbed me by the collar and forced me to look at him. "Do you understand me, Hwan? You are not coming to his funeral. No son of mine will be seen burying that troubled child."
I did not listen. Jun-ho dragged me away for the second time. This time, I was drinking until Cein's father snatched the bottles from my reach. The alcohol helped me ignore that I am still falling down. "Give it to me," I called on, reaching for the bottle, my clothes mopping the floor as I struggled to stand. I am sinking. "Give them to me."
"Son, I'm gonna ask you to stay at home until he is cremated. You need help."
I am sinking. "I'm staying here." I tried to push myself up, but my hand slipped on the alcohol and sweat and tears that soaked my clothes. "I'm staying." I tried again, and failed again. I'm a fucking failure, am I?
That's when Jun-ho came to drag me home again. Father threatened Cein's father this time if I come back. I did not listen. I cannot listen. Why would I leave Cein alone again?
The threats turned out to be unnecessary, because Cein's father died of a heart attack a few days before he was cremated. He is alone again. I visited him when I could, when my body could bring itself to disobey my father and waddle towards my car. Twice, Jeha joined me. Once, Dogeon. The first time, Jeha was hysterical than I was; he was crying and crashing out so much that I felt ashamed of expressing my own grief. The security threatened to ban him if he did not stop it, so he left, giving me strict instructions not to follow him.
The second time, Jeha came with Dogeon, and Jeha was calmer. I am still sinking. Dogeon wrapped his arm tightly around Jeha's shoulders, and he looked at me in comfort as Jeha and I stared at Cein's casket in silence.
"I tried to save him, hyung," Jeha whispered after a while. "It...it took me a while to find the hotel, but..."
"Jeha..." Dogeon tried to stop his grief from overspilling, but Jeha's been the closest to Cein for a very long while.
"...but I found it! I was inside when the alarm went off, everybody ran, but I didn't--"
"Jeha--"
"I ran towards him, hyung, I took him out before the firefighters could come and take us out--I did it. I don't understand where it went wrong."
"It's not your fault." I envied the calmness in Dogeon's voice and the way it soothes my own wounds. Perhaps, if it were him that Cein talked to on Sunday, Cein would still be alive. Dogeon would answer his calls.
Jeha started crying again, and the pain was reflected in Dogeon's eyes. I am, as usual, useless as I sat beside him. Never had the knowledge to say the right things. Useless.
"Tomorrow, Hosu and Haru's set to be discharged," Dogeon spoke again, his voice weary but steady. "Perhaps, we could make a small memorial for Cein-hyung at the beach, since we don't know who would claim his urn now that his father's gone."
Cein's gone, too, I thought. The harrowing reality consumed my entire being once again, and I sobbed my tears on the back of my hand. Come back to us, Cein. I nodded and tried to keep it together when Dogeon squeezed my shoulders. "I am going, I am going," I said. "Tomorrow...at the beach."
At night, I could hardly sleep. Dehydrated perhaps because of the alcohol and the crying, I stare at the dark, falling, falling, endlessly. When sleep consumes me, I see Cein's face, and I relive the conversation we had the first time we saw each other again after years. "I hope people will remember me as a funny guy, who is excellent at piano," he said, drunkenly swaying back and forth in his seat. "Not the kid who was accused of killing his own mother."
I placed a hand on my chest, barely being able to keep my head up as I was already dozing in and out of consciousness. "Hyung will remember you that way."
Then, I would fall again--fast, swift, in lightyears, and I would wake up in cold sweats. I should have held him. When he said that to me, I should have held him. He would've hated it, but he'll know I meant it. After realizing that I am living in a reality where he's no longer around, I curl up in my bed, sobbing on my blankets. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
The morning of his cremation, I was woken up by a phone call buzzing my phone. It's the funeral home.
They were asking for Kim Hwan. "It's me," I replied.
What they said pulled me out of the spiral I was drowning in completely. "When?" I asked, heart hammering against my chest. "Anytime today."
"I'm coming now," I replied, scrambling out of bed and feeling my feet on the ground for the first time in weeks. I have stopped falling. The boys were asking for me as I was driving my car. They're at the beach already. Wait, I told them. I have to pick up something important.
At the beach, I saw them sitting by the shore, shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting for the sun to come down. Hosu and Haru are already discharged and are teasing Jeha, and Dogeon is on his day off, but he still looks tired. When he saw me, he waved me over, but when he saw what I was carrying, he ran to me, and the rest of them followed.
"They gave it to you?" Hosu asked, touching the urn I am hugging tight. "He left it to me," I replied. "In case his father can't."
"How...?"
"He left a note," I replied, trying to swallow the tears that were coming again. "Jeha, it's good that you took him out on time. It was in his pockets; it would've burned otherwise."
"What does it say?" Haru asked. I shook my head. "I...haven't read it yet. I want to do it with you."
"Let's go, hyung." Dogeon, as usual, is leading our way back to the shore. "Jooan will be calling soon--let's do it with him."
The waves crashed and spilled their water on the shore, teasing our toes. The world is steady, quiet, serene.
Dogeon's phone rang and he answered. The police officer informed us that this is a recorded call, and we could end the conversation if we disagreed. Jooan's name was read, then there was silence, then it was his voice.
"Hyung?"
Dogeon's face lit up. "Oh, Jooan-ah!"
"Hyung!" Jeha called out. "Can you hear us?"
Jooan laughed, and it tugged my heartstrings. "You're too loud that even the officers here can hear you, Jeon Jeha!"
We laughed. "Jooan-ah, Cein-hyung joined us today. He left his ashes to Hwan-hyung," Dogeon replied in between sniffles. "We're here at the beach again!"
We heard Joaan chuckle in between the static of the weak signal at the beach and Dogeon's broken speakers on his phone. "Is that so? Then we can celebrate his next life together!"
"He said he wanted to be a rock, so we will have more difficulty finding him again," I said, earning another series of painful laughter from the boys.
"Watch, I'll find him once I get out," Jooan said over Dogeon's phone. "And I'll take him to all the beautiful places."
"Ya, why are you so sweet to him, huh? You never said anything like that to us!" Dogeon complained, grinning as he wiped off his tears.
We'll miss you, hyung," Haru said, touching the urn in my hands. "We'll make sure to keep Jeha out of trouble."
Jeha's full on crying again, so we have to stop. We squeezed him into a tight hug and said tough but comforting things that Cein would have said to him.
"Let's read the letter now before Jooan's phone call is over," Hosu suggested, so I handed the urn carefully to Jeha, who cried more terribly while holding it, before taking the piece of half-burnt paper from my pocket. The police were kind enough to give it back to his father after the investigation confirmed his suicide, and now the funeral home is kind enough to give it to me.
Kim Hwan-hyung, I read, out loud for Jooan to hear.
If you're reading this, that means I have failed in my promise to you of trying to stay alive. I'm sorry. Please do not look at the mirror to look for anyone to blame. For once, I want to be held accountable for something that I did. I thank you for the laughter and the shoulder you have lent me. Please look after Jeha, as you did for me, and make sure he stays out of trouble. He'll be needing you more.
I wish to be burned after I'm dead--to ashes like my mother. And if my father is not there to receive me, I hope you will. I hope you take me home to the boys, and I hope you take me home to my mother.
Thank you for everything, hyung.
Cein.
The sunset bled itself into the horizon as we finished reading his note. I cried, clutching the note in my hands, as Hosu pulled me into the group hug that embraced Cein's urn.
You're home now, Cein. Hyung took you home. Thank you for coming back.
