Archive of Our Own

Leehan was running late. The clicking sound of his dress shoes echoed in the empty hallway of the building as he looked for the room where the wedding was supposedly taking place.

He finds the signage, Hall no. 5: Diamond Hall, then stops just before the large doors of the venue. Leehan does his usual ritual, shaking his hands and legs, before mustering up the strength to push open the door.

Before Leehan could touch the handle, the door swung open. Sungho stepped out and immediately noticed his sorry state from the commute. Sungho sighed and pulled him aside before Leehan got the chance to move past him.

“You’re late.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Leehan apologized immediately. He felt no right to refuse when Sungho began dusting him in all places.

“If you’re going to be late, you might as well make yourself look good, Leehan,” Sungho reprimanded as he spun Leehan around and began smoothing the fabric down his back, picked at the stubborn white lint on Leehan's dark blazer. Another turn and he was now adjusting his collar. And even though his tie survived the stressful commute, Sungho still fussed with it. He undid the tie and redid the knot himself. “You know you have to look presentable for this kind of job.”

Amidst the thin rustle of the fabric (the sound of Sungho struggling to tie the tie he undid. Leehan lets him take his time), Leehan noticed the faint sound of a piano playing a pop song behind the large doors. “Who’s playing? Do you still need me here?” Leehan asked.

“Yeah.” Sungho nodded. His eyes were fixed on the tie (still not tied).

“That’s just Riwoo, my new assistant. He’s been playing Bruno Mars, but the vibe is all wrong. Take over when he’s done with his song.”

“Got it.”

“Same here,” Sungho said as he finally figured out what to do with Leehan’s tie. One final pat on his shoulder signalled Leehan that he was free to go.

“Wait!”

Leehan felt a pull on his arm, and now he was turned to face Sungho again. Sungho then began taming his hair, carefully moving away the longer locks that went past his eyebrow. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Sungho's eyes looked over at him once more before giving Leehan a look of satisfaction.

“There, better,“ Sungho sighed. “If you need me, you don’t. I’ll just be in the garden.”

As Leehan entered the venue, he spotted the grand piano exactly where Sungho had told him it would be. A man with a noticeably small frame relative to the instrument was playing a simple arrangement of Grenade. It was an ironic song choice, and Leehan found the arrangement too plain, but still, his practiced ear noticed how the notes of each key left a sweet melody in the air. Leehan found it light, easy to listen to. It was charming.

Leehan stood by the instrument and waited for the man to finish his song. From his position, he saw how the man’s fingers danced across the keys of the piano like he had rehearsed the song a thousand times. He was definitely Sungho’s assistant.

“You’re Sungho’s pianist?”

“Yeah. Sorry about the time.”

“It’s alright. Sungho expected it, so we’re prepared.” Sungho’s assistant stood up from the stool of the piano, “I’m Riwoo, by the way. Here, sit.” Riwoo motioned Leehan to take his spot.

“Leehan. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’ll just be at the back. Find me if you need anything, okay?” Leehan acknowledged him with a nod. Riwoo proceeded to the back as he had said, definitely off to facilitate the event in Sungho’s stead.

Without a tune playing in the background, Leehan grew hyperaware of the atmosphere in the function hall. Chatter and laughter from the guests, children running about, everyone seemed happy to be here.

Leehan had played for a few weddings before, so he knew the guests couldn’t care less what song they hear in the background (fact proven again when no one batted an eyelash when Riwoo decided to play Grenade instead of the more obvious choice, Marry you). But in a room full of people minding their own conversations, there is at least one person who would mind when a professional pianist decided to play a little dissonance.

Think about the couple. Is what Sungho would have told him. Leehan can almost hear him say it in his head. Wasting no more time than he already did, he started playing the chords of his first song:

Perfect, Ed Sheeran.

The perfect piece to set the mood of the occasion. After that, he kept playing a few more songs from his romance roster. In the middle of a piece, a man stepped closer and stood beside the piano.

Leehan knew him. He was one of the grooms, the man of the hour.

He was Myung Jaehyun.

When Leehan finished another song, Jaehyun took it as an opportunity to greet him.

“Leehan! You’re here? Please tell me you know how to play Reality,” Jaehyun pleaded, more eagerly requested. Leehan can see the happiness in his eyes, so happy it’s almost contagious. He swears he can feel warmth radiating off of Jaehyun.

Without a word, Leehan wrapped up the chorus of the current song and went on to play what Jaehyun had asked for.

Reality, Richard Sanderson.

He could tell Jaehyun was impressed by his smooth transition. He was about to greet him back when a voice beat him to it.

“Here he is! Dear, do tell us how you and Taesan met?” asked a lady. She was decorated with pearls and the scent of roses. Her hair was a dark brown at the tips and gray on the roots, a tell of her elderly age.

“Might as well tell us why you young folk decided to marry. What did you even see in him?” When Leehan glanced to his side, he found that the voice came from an elderly man. His arms were linked to the elderly lady. Jaehyun was leaning down towards the couple to hear them better.

“You’ve met before, didn’t you? He’s cute, like a toddler. Makes it easy teasing him.” He heard Jaehyun’s voice light up as he replied to the couple. As he began talking about his lucky guy. Leehan lets muscle memory take over, lets himself listen in to how Jaehyun described his beloved.

“I adore how he's a family guy. He's really appreciative. Remember the gifts he gave you just because he felt like it?” Jaehyun continued. Above the notes he’s been playing, Leehan heard the old couple’s delight reminiscing on the random gifts they had received throughout the years, that although more useless than practical, the gifts were full of thought.

“So, why marry?” the older man asked again, still not satisfied with Jaehyun’s answer.

“Hmm…” Jahyun trailed, genuinely in thought, “One day I just felt happy with the thought of marrying him. That’s it.”

“Wait a minute, you’re the ones here who’ve been happily married for decades. Why ask me why I wanted to marry?” Leehan felt himself hold back a laugh. “Listen to my vows later, then you’ll see,” Jaehyun said to the couple, selling it so good Leehan thought of hanging around the ceremony just to hear the vows he prepared for his guy.

Whatever Jaehyun was thinking, he could not contain his joy. And in the end, there was no need to. His happiness seeped through the ears of those who heard his laughter that sounded like there was more he wanted to say. “Bottom line, he’s special. And I felt more special just knowing that a random puppy-shaped cloud made him think of me. Makes you feel a little boastful.”

Hearing their conversation, Leehan became strangely aware of the way his fingertips touched the piano keys, aware of how well-maintained they were, how the warm light of the function hall shone on the piano’s gloss, how the piano’s high-gloss finish made him see his own reflection on the music rack. A second of self-consciousness was all it took for him to start feeling his back straining as he began to mind how he sat on the stool, elbows stiff as he thought of how his arms should be gliding across the keyboard. He increased his focus as he finished the current piece he was playing, while he ignored how familiar he was with the pride the groom had described.

Jaehyun continued to entertain guests who stopped by near the piano, answering questions about his life, future plans after the wedding, his certainty.

Have you bought a house yet?

How many kids?

Are you really sure?

Are you both earning enough?

Every question Jaehyun was asked, he was glad to give an answer, happy to share all the stories he had, never tired of talking about his love, never tired of assuring them his truth that his guy was the one.

Leehan’s fingers ran across the piano keys, getting ready to play the next song, a song that found its way into his head after listening to Jaehyun’s sweet yapping.

So This is Love, Ilene Woods and Mike Douglas.

When the last of the guests moved away and settled into their seats, Jaehyun took the chance to finally thank Leehan for playing his song request.

“Thank goodness you knew how to play Reality. I would have lost it if I didn’t hear the song today of all days.”

Of course, Leehan knew it well. “It was Taesan’s favorite,” he replied.

“Until now, it still is. The wedding won’t be complete without it.” Jaehyun stood beside him. From the reflection of the music rack, Leehan could see him looking down at the keyboard as he continued to play. He hadn’t stopped playing since Riwoo gave him his seat. “It sounded beautiful, Leehan. Thank you,” Jaehyun added.

“I learned it for someone. He wanted me to learn it,” Leehan confessed. A little truth wouldn’t hurt.

“Oh, was it his favorite, too? You're trying to impress him? That’s cute. Maybe we like the same type.” Jaehyun joked, quirkily asked, apparently interested in the window Leehan opened about his private love life.

Leehan let out a snicker, translated his supposed laugh into a happy note on the piano, pressing harder on the keys than he should.

“You know, it’s impressive how you can still hold a conversation while you play.” Leehan looked up at Jaehyun from his stool. He smiled a thank you, showing off a little because that’s just how good Leehan was. “See? You’re not even looking at the keys. How do you do that?

Ah, now Jaehyun shines a spotlight on him. Sungho wouldn’t be pleased if he ever saw him striking up a conversation instead of focusing on his duty as his assigned pianist, but he can’t just ignore Jaehyun. Sweet, sweet Jaehyun. And besides, Leehan wasn’t annoyed in the slightest by his questions. He knew Jaehyun well enough to understand that it was just him literally buzzing with infectious joy for what was to come. It was his wedding, after all. He had every right to act all giddy.

“So are you both a thing now, Leehan?” Jaehyun continued, “When did it start?”

“Just friends. Now he’s just someone I used to like.”

Leehan was a great pianist. He had participated in countless events, performed in front of countless people, and even represented the country in international competitions. He was a professional, almost flawless. Almost.

Because Jaehyun was as great an observer as Leehan was a musician. He was sharp enough to notice the way a note played a little too light, then the next note too long by a second, all after Leehan told him they were just friends.

“Hmm, okay. Can you play Reality again? I want to hear more.” Jaehyun was more than kind enough to overlook the notes, ignore what they had implied. Leehan was thankful that he did.

“Sure.”

Reality, Richard Sanderson.

Right at the start of the first chord, the large doors of the function hall swung open. Leehan looked up, half-expecting to see bleached hair, but saw a dark-haired man in a well-tailored suit walk in the venue instead.

Han Taesan.

Leehan saw his figure grow larger, the click of his footsteps sounding heavier on the floor with each step closer to where he sat behind the piano. When the features on his face became more prominent, Leehan spotted two things about Taesan.

First was the lack of silver on his ears. It was a contrast to how he usually wore a stack of three along his earlobes. Tonight, he looked tame with wearing only one pair. Leehan had never thought Taesan would limit himself to only one pair.

Second was a glimpse of silver creeping from under the sleeve of his left arm. The watch had a leather strap that matched the dark of Taesan’s suit, had a silver rectangular frame that complemented the dark of his hair. It was an accessory Taesan said he’d wear only on special occasions. Leehan wanted to tell people right then that it was the watch he gave Taesan five Christmases ago. Of course, he would wear it today.

Leehan saw it in his eyes, the moment Taesan recognized the song playing, the moment he recognized the person playing it. Then, Leehan saw the sparkle in his smile, dazzling his entire face, instantly melting his sharp features. It was the moment Taesan noticed Jaehyun was also behind the piano.

Leehan notes another thing: Third, Taesan never changed at all. He still looked at things he genuinely loved with a childlike smile.

The pianist remained professional. He kept his fingers moving across the smooth keys of the instrument. Confident with his skill, he can’t help but look at the couple. Taesan was smiling at Jaehyun. Leehan looked back to his side and saw that Jaehyun, too, was looking at Taesan with the same intensity. Leehan looked back at Taesan again and found him still dazzling with that damn smile.

A bitter feeling seeped in the space between his stomach and his heart. Leehan notes a fourth thing: He didn’t mind feeling bruised from the inside. Not anymore.

It wasn’t always like this, no.

It had been years since Leehan found himself by Taesan’s side. He had not left since.

When Taesan wanted to purchase tickets to a concert of his favorite band, Leehan had tagged along to keep him company after hearing how long the waiting could get. He didn’t expect them to wait under the striking heat of the sun. Taesan had let Leehan lean on him so he could stay balanced while half-asleep from the waiting. Taesan bought two tickets because he wanted Leehan to go with him.

He recalled waking up to the weight of Taesan’s jacket draped over him. The sky had already turned to a dark blue. He hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep over his laptop. The music he had been studying was piled into a corner of his desk, the keyboard he was practicing on was switched off. When Leehan reached to unplug his laptop, he realized that it too had already been taken care of when he found his phone charging instead. It must not have been long since Taesan left his place. His phone was yet to charge to 20 percent.

Leehan felt the stiff in his neck and the ache in his back. He stretched his arms to lift the heaviness from his sleep. Mid-yawn, he caught tiny colorful dots plastered from his arm all the way to the back of his hand. Closer inspection, he realized they were small stickers of musical notes.

There was a similar tug on his cheek. Leehan peeled the sticker off to find a small orange heart.

Silly Taesan. Though he had come over to his dorm to hang out countless of times before, he must have gotten bored. This was not the first time Leehan had fallen asleep while he had him over. As he always did, he went on to text Taesan to apologize for sleeping on him and ask if he had gotten home, then proceeded to carry himself to his sweet bed.

When Leehan reached to pull back his blanket, he found his bed already occupied. Taesan lay there snoring as he hugged one of Leehan’s many pillows. Leehan wanted to sleep, but seeing Taesan all peaceful, all vulnerable, Leehan only felt restless.

He never went back to sleep. He sat back down at his desk and finished the remaining write-up needed for an overdue assignment as Taesan dozed off in the background.

That wasn’t the first time Leehan felt the rush in his chest when he looked at Taesan, or when Taesan looked at him, or when Taesan did anything at all. He didn’t know when was the first, but he knew the rush didn’t come to him all at once. When he met Taesan for the first time in junior high, Leehan found him rude, extremely overstepping at times, but his blunt innocence was undoubtedly charming. Leehan will always remember how sweet and friendly Taesan sounded as he invited him to lunch at the cafeteria because he found Leehan handsome.

So, yes, Taesan caught his attention. And attention, as small as it may be, is already a seedling to attraction.

There was a time he was jolted awake by his phone ringing. Leehan would have ignored the call on a weekend morning, but he could never ignore Taesan’s name written on the call ID. Taesan had called him to come over to his unit down the street because of an ‘emergency’. When Leehan arrived at his place, Taesan was already outside the door. Turns out, he called him to catch a lizard that found its way in his cabinet after leaving the window open the night before. When the work was done, Taesan had insisted he stay. He offered his own bed as compensation, told him to go back to sleep while Taesan attended to his weekend errands.

Leehan ended up sleeping on Taesan’s bed until noon. He woke up to the sound of rustling in the kitchen. Taesan was back home, already readied the table for lunch, told Leehan he knew he’d be awake by this time so he prepared his portion of food as well. They sat across from each other on the dining table. Leehan woke himself as he ate, and as Taesan rambled on about the people he met at the studio he had visited that morning. Leehan noted how caring of a friend Taesan was. Noted how it didn’t bother him much that Taesan was only a friend.

Once a seed takes root, it stubbornly grows to whatever it wants itself to be. It felt too violent to pull out a root that had already found a warm place in the soil of a heart. Leehan did not know then what the seed would grow into, or when it would bloom fully, or if it would bloom at all. Leehan only knew that he couldn’t possibly remove it without the risk of pulling his entire heart out along with it.

So Leehan lets it be. He lets it grow.

Was it a mistake? No. Or maybe not yet at that time.

Day after day, Taesan’s presence would stick out like a sore thumb. Leehan didn’t mind it, didn’t mind the sprouts in his chest whenever his friend was around, or the way they would crumble when he spoke fondly of people he met at the studio. Perhaps it only mattered when Taesan was not around, when Leehan was all alone with his thoughts, alone with feelings that seemed to burst whenever he remembered Taesan doing anything cute or attractive that day. It had come to a point where he already had a mental list of things that Taesan did that left him breathless.

(He didn’t mean to keep tabs, it just happened, really. Really.)

Like that time they were in a music room in the library, they spent their overlapping free time together. Leehan was practicing for a performance, and Taesan… Taesan was bathed in the glow of the sunset. Every light and shadow hit him just right as the orange of the sun shone directly at the open blind of the music room. They had turned on the fan to cool down the stuffy mix of dust and wood, but it did nothing to cool down Leehan’s mind. All it did was send a breeze that lightly rustled Taesan’s long black hair and spread Taesan’s own notes of bergamot and sandalwood along Leehan’s direction.

It’s been a while since they started their free time together. Leehan looked up to see what got his friend so quiet. He said he would do his assignment, but Leehan caught Taesan watching him instead. Leehan figured he was waiting for him to mess up so he could start up a conversation, that is, judging from the playful look he had in his eyes… his eyes… Taesan’s eyes.

Taesan’s eyes were honey brown. A brown you’d catch when his eyes reflect the light, a brown unique to Taesan alone.

Before Leehan could stare at him a second too long, he quickly looked back at his music sheet, but perhaps he was a second too late because his fingers already slipped over the black keys mid progression. A loud mess of a chord rang from the piano. Leehan would have to start over again.

“Can you dye my hair?” Taesan didn't even wait for Leehan's clumsy mistake to die down.

“Why? Why me?” Leehan asked as he went on to play the mellow intro of the piece he was practicing, as he kept his eyes fixed on his music sheet, as he acted like their current privacy didn't bother him so much that the randomness of the question didn't faze him a bit.

“Trying something new. I think it’s cool. I want oreo hair, like a literal oreo,” Taesan replied. Leehan can feel Taesan’s eyes on him. “You’re good with your hands. I trust you with the bleach,” he added.

If Taesan had asked him a few months earlier, Leehan would have agreed to help. But this was not a few months ago. The seedling in his chest had already grown a few thorns.

Leehan played a few more measures before he replied, “But it’s bleach. What if something happens to my hands?”

Leehan declined. He had a point. Taesan agreed. He changed the topic and never asked Leehan to help dye his hair again.

“Why don’t you try playing modern songs? Is it because you can’t?” Taesan had bluntly asked him months later. They were in the same music room, but the old orange sunset from before was now a bright blue. It was a hot, sunny afternoon.

Leehan looked up to see him entering the room while he played his piece on the piano. Taesan’s classes weren't supposed to start until later in the day. He would usually still be asleep at this hour. Leehan didn’t have time to wonder why Taesan was here this early. His mind was more occupied by other things.

Taesan’s hair was different.

It was longer, but not just plain black now. He had a streak of light yellow running through the middle of his head, from ear to ear... like an oreo. And it should be silly, but Taesan was right. That streak of bleached hair looked good on him.

“I can. I just don’t practice it,” Leehan replied. It was the truth. He had yet to have time to enjoy songs past the classical and musical genres. He turned back to the keys, leaned forward to his music sheet. Liebestod, read the title. It was assigned to him by his instructor with the hope that he could become a more emotive pianist.

And his instructor was right, maybe it could make him a better pianist as Leehan found the piece challenging. He let out a sigh of frustration and started again from the beginning. He had been going at the score since morning. Now he was down to the last page of the score, and Taesan had caught him in his agitated state.

Theoretically, the piece was easy. Leehan had already done a run-through of the whole score and he could hit each note perfectly. But playing the piano was more than just pressing down the keys as told by the notes on the music sheet. Leehan knew that, of course, he did.

As he passed through the practiced measures, a thought came into mind, the thought banging on the cracks in his chest: Taesan never went to salons to get his hair done. Each haircut and hairstyle he had was a do-it-yourself.

Now the thought began clawing at the grown seedling in his heart: Someone else did the bleaching for him. Someone else had done the job that Taesan had once entrusted to Leehan.

It seemed like perfect timing. Leehan again reached the page full of measures that called for fortississimos, inside were notes that called for crescendos. Leehan can play them. It wasn't difficult at all. He felt once more the buildup of each note at his fingertips, he knew to press down the keys to play the necessary volume. It was a tantalizing agony, and Leehan understood it. He can handle it.

Taesan watched him at the side of the piano, awestruck by the power Leehan had done to the passage. It was heavy. He had already perfected these measures. Leehan didn’t know he could play them with any more volume, but he did. Now came the measures he’s been having trouble with.

But perhaps the sudden thoughts about Taesan’s hair didn’t do well to his growing frustrations. The heat of the sun at noon blaring through the windows didn’t do much either. Perhaps it was the music getting to him that he grew irritated by the minute. His hands moved to the tremolos, notes barely reaching the peak, but Leehan’s hands were too tight. His fingers slipped. The melody collapsed across the music room. Taesan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

What a tragedy. Leehan quickly started over.

Theoretically, it should be easy. Leehan repeats over and over. He can follow the score as it climbed the long fortississimos, but after barely, barely reaching the peak of his tremolos, the notes are pulled down as they are forced to surrender. And perhaps because of the exhaustion from the previous fortississimos, it was inevitable that one measure would eventually call for a pedanto.

That bit was fine. It made sense that a pedanto came its way. It made sense for the music to die down, to wilt. What Leehan couldn't understand was how the measure immediately after that called for a dolcissimo.

After that violent climb, after that quick fall down, he couldn't grasp how he was supposed to play a melodious tune right back from the fall. What a terrible joke. Leehan felt mocked by the music. There's no way he could play it soft when he could still feel the weight of the crescendos begging to play at his fingertips. There's no way he could play it sweet when the fortississimos dared to shake the root out of his heart.

Another slip, and it wasn’t even at the part he had trouble with. He was about to start over again —

“You’re good, Leehan. Take it easy,” Taesan assured him.

And yeah, he really should. Especially when Taesan was approaching him, moving to take a seat on the small stool. Hands still resting on the keys of the piano, Leehan scooched over and made room for him. The scent of bergamot wafted through his senses. Taesan must have been fresh from a bath before he came here.

Leehan stared into the ceiling. The song still played in his head. He breathed out as he imagined the frustrations leave his body and get lost in the air. He shook his arms out as a reset, didn’t realize the discomfort starting to settle on his wrist. Still, he positioned his hands, got ready to play again from the start of the music sheet.

And then Taesan started playing a chord progression on the piano instead.

It was a familiar intro. He played a melody, stopping when he was about to repeat it. He didn’t really know how to play the rest of the song besides the intro.

“What chord is this?” Taesan asked as he played four random notes. Leehan laughed. It was silly. The notes he played weren’t chords at all. He knew Taesan was aware of that.

Leehan positioned his hands on the keys, then remembered the chords Taesan first played, G major and B minor, and copied the melody he had played.

“What’s the title of the song?” Leehan asked him.

“Reality,” Taesan replied. “It sounds easy to me. You should learn it.”

Leehan felt like he should. A well-needed break from Liebestod. He began deducing the rest of the chords part of the scale, went on to try different progressions until he found one that sounded right, and then copied the melody of the song from memory. Taesan, that cute stuff, started humming the song to help Leehan with the melody.

“You’re not going to ask about my hair?” Taesan blurted out of the blue, hand poking at the back strands of his hair.

Leehan took a pause and inspected his new look. It was messy, but the mess suited Taesan perfectly. It was probably the styling. He was afraid to ask who had done it.

“Want to know who did it?” So Taesan brought it up.

“Who?” Leehan didn’t want to know.

“Jaehyun. You should meet him sometime! I swear you two will get along. Let’s ask him to bleach your hair, too! I think a full blonde look would really suit you.”

At first, he was just a guy in the studio, and then a few more stories later, Taesan had become comfortable enough to say his name. Myung Jaehyun. Taesan had always talked about him, found ways to include him in their conversations eventually. Hearing the way he spoke with oh so much adoration for Jaehyun’s work and his very existence, Leehan understood Jaehyun’s place in Taesan’s world long before Taesan ever figured it out himself.

Case in point: Taesan had invited Jaehyun as well to watch the concert of his favorite band with him, even insisted on buying the tickets himself. It was the same show Taesan had been so eager for Leehan to see with him. Leehan didn’t mind. The more the merrier, he reasoned. If Taesan wanted him there, he would be there.

But the day Taesan introduced him to Jaehyun was the day Leehan truly felt the weight of the grown seedling in his heart. As he stood before them, Leehan realized that the once young seedling had grown to a flower too large, too dense, too foreign to give a description to. He felt the thorns poking through his chest as he breathed, petals cramp and throb along the ache of each pulse of his beating muscle. He could feel the stems growing through his bones, could hear them crack inside of him with every movement, could feel it suffocate him with every attempt at a conversation. The neglected seedling begged to be addressed.

The day Leehan met Jaehyun was the day he realized how stinging the taste of jealousy could be.

Fortississimo.

While his chest flared, his head went numb. He felt his body betraying him. He spoke faster, laughed too loud, screamed too much against the acoustics of the concert. He felt the desperate need to mask the discomfort of being in his own skin. He felt self conscious in the darkness of the venue, felt too small and too seen, at least glad that they were in a spot where the shadows easily hid his flushed face. There was nowhere else to hide but within himself. He ended up staying, ended up shouting lyrics to songs he didn’t know, wondering when it would finally end, wondering if he should have agreed to bleaching Taesan’s hair when asked to do so.

But Leehan should have known that his misery wouldn't end when the concert did.

Later that night, they sat in a crowded fast-food chain. It was the typical rush one would see after a concert. Leehan sat across from them. With his throat sore from the screaming he had done at the show, he gave up on talking. Instead, he observed the two in front of him. It was sweet of Taesan to still include him in their conversation, just letting Leehan nod, or hum in reply. Leehan only felt ashamed for being so hyper-focused on every interaction Taesan had with Jaehyun: the care, the attention. Leehan had seen firsthand how good of a man Jaehyun was— had seen everything he never will be.

With each smile, each knowing look they shared, Leehan felt each petal pound against the soil of his heart as they fell one by one.

Perdendo.

At the end of the night. Taesan had suggested they accompany Jaehyun home as he wasn't familiar with the area. Months and months ago, Leehan would have loved to join them. He won't mind spending more time with Taesan and Jaehyun, even make use of the moment to get to know Jaehyun better. But that was months ago. Now there was a sea of dried petals that crumbled with each breath from his lungs, crumbled at each thought of Taesan and Jaehyun together, each thought of Taesan’s time that was no longer his. It was dead weight.

For the second time in his life, Leehan refused Taesan's wishes. He waved them goodbye, watched them walk away together and headed back to his dorm alone.

It was in his loneliness that Leehan realized how things might have turned out differently if he had tended to the seedling in his chest the moment he knew it was there. He had always imagined this seedling that throbbed along with the beating of his heart as a single bloom, but no single flower, no matter the size, could ever have grown this many petals. No single flower would have been enough to carry the density of his feelings.

In his loneliness, with each petal that has fallen, Leehan found dozens of petal-less flower heads rooted in the soil of his heart. Once upon a time there was a flower that bloomed for every love for Han Taesan that he could find. Now all Leehan was left with was a sea of dried petals and a garden of empty flowers.

By the time he got home, Leehan felt hollow.

And as he faced Taesan the next morning to accompany him in buying gifts for Mother’s Day, Leehan found that Liebestod made sense after all.

Dolcissimo.

The third time in his life that Leehan refused Taesan's wish was when Taesan invited him to be his groomsman at his wedding. Leehan had declined, apologetically told him he had already been booked for a performance on the same day.

But then the very wedding he had refused to attend was the one he had to play in. Sungho must have had something to do with this, was what Leehan thought.

“I knew it. You’re the pianist Sungho’s been waiting for,” Taesan greeted him, “I thought you’d never come!”

Taesan brought him back from his small trance. He found himself absentmindedly still playing the song on the piano. Leehan laughed, more at himself.

“You know I wouldn’t miss your special day.” Leehan kept playing the song. He felt a bit guilty for having declined Taesan’s request. He remembered he was Taesan’s friend first above all else. He went on to play another run of Reality by the time he reached the end of the song.

Just like Jaehyun, Taesan can’t help but be amazed at the way Leehan played. It was not the first time he played the song for him, though it must be the first time Taesan was hearing his own rendition of the song.

“I didn’t even know you could play it better,” Taesan remarked with a soft smile. He felt mesmerized, touched at how Leehan was playing his favorite song. “You’re amazing, Leehan!”

“Thank you,” Leehan replied with a sense of pride. He was grateful. It was knowing the difference between learning a piece and understanding how to play it yourself. His instructor was right. He became a better musician, an emotive pianist. After he figured out how to play Liebestod, after he figured out how to make use of the garden that bloomed in his chest.

For the flowers whose petals had crumbled to dust were still flowers that decorated the soil, and even when crushed and dried, they had a scent that stayed fragrant inside the walls of his heart.

He knew he wouldn’t be the musician he was today if Taesan had not unknowingly broken his heart. But more than that, he wouldn’t be the musician he was today if he had never loved Taesan from the start.

And even after years have passed, it remains the one thing he’ll never say out loud in his lifetime.

From a distance, Riwoo raised his hand as he called for Taesan’s attention.

“I’ll be back.” Taesan reached out and gave the back of Leehan’s neck a quick massage. He then patted Jaehyun’s back, his arm lingering at his coat. “Leehan, watch over Jaehyun for me. He might cry all of a sudden.” Taesan pointed a teasing finger at them before heading toward the back where Riwoo stood. Jaehyun brushed him off with a look. Leehan shook his head with a smirk. His eyes followed Taesan across the room.

He was still playing the song, his eyes focused on the spot where Riwoo and Taesan were talking. Leehan did not realize how Jaehyun had his eyes on him.

“It’s him.”

Jaehyun’s statement caught him off guard.

“What are you talking about?” Leehan chuckled, though he knew exactly what Jaehyun had meant.

“You look at him like how he looks at me,” Jaehyun quietly pointed out with a knowing smirk. Leehan felt his fingers almost falter before muscle memory saved him. He just laughed again, not really knowing what else to say.

“Still into him? Just between us, promise!” Jaehyun continued. He seemed more amused than anything, sounding all excited like he had found out some grave secret.

And it is a grave secret, was supposed to be one until Jaehyun had shamelessly asked him about it. More surprisingly, Leehan felt a sense of relief. Jaehyun had opened up his chest and the soil in his heart was graced by the warmth of the sun for the first time. Leehan felt light.

"Do you have any song requests?" Leehan asked Jaehyun as he was nearing the end of the piece. His fingers moved slower while he prepared to perform the next song.

“Ignoring the question?” Jaehyun teased again, “Surprise me. Play anything.”

Leehan started playing the first song that came to his mind:

Nothing’s gonna change my love for you, George Benson

“I'm sorry, Leehan,” Jaehyun said upon hearing the song choice. Leehan realized later what it might have implied.

“Cheer up. I'm over him,” he assured, “I'm playing this for both of you.”

“First love?” Jaehyun curiously asked.

“No, but he was special,” Leehan replied. His fingers felt as light as his chest, “he’ll always be.”

“I get it,” Jaehyun said softly.

“You’re marrying him. Of course you do,” Leehan joked.

Jaehyun studied him, then smiled. The pianist didn’t say much, and Jaehyun could not read him as well as Taesan could, but he was certain of the peace he heard from the notes he played on the piano. Jaehyun gave Leehan a pat on the shoulder.

Just as Leehan had always stayed by Taesan’s side, Taesan had never left his. It made it easier for Leehan to witness every part of him, made it easier for Leehan to learn to love him within the boundaries of their friendship over the years.

He had learned how to tend to his garden, knew now to pull out the thorned, dead stems to make room for flowers that still dared to bloom.

He’ll always remember how it used to feel, how it hurt when the petals fell. How each new bloom pounded at the roots when he tried to push them down, tried to stop them from growing at all. But the flowers will always throb in his chest. They will always find a way to sprout beautifully, then their petals will always fall painfully against the soil. Leehan gave up containing the blooms. As he had always done, he let them grow when they wanted to. Now, he has learned to let them fall when they should.

Eventually, Leehan discovered something beautiful about his garden. He found that some flowers kept their petals. Some flowers never wilted after they bloomed. And at last, he found within him a garden of fresh flowers.

“Thank you for coming, Leehan. I know it means a lot to Taesan that you’re here today.”

“Congratulations, Jaehyun.”

And in that garden were flowers that bloomed for every love for Han Taesan that he could find.

Leehan's fingers moved to start a new song:

Grow old with you, Adam Sandler.

There was no point in saying farewell to something that had no plans to leave. The Taesan he loved will always rest in the deepest parts of his heart. There was nothing left for Leehan to do but to cherish it.

After the short ceremony, the reception began. Riwoo gave Leehan the cue to rest, and then he replaced the live piano with a pre-made wedding playlist a while later.

Leehan took the remaining time to catch up with Taesan and Jaehyun. He greeted the relatives and friends he hadn't been able to talk to earlier as he was immediately told to do his responsibilities at the wedding. He shared stories with them, shared anecdotes about the newlyweds. He also got to know some friends that Taesan and Jaehyun had invited.

And since he had worked with Sungho longer than Riwoo had, he also went on to assist him with some tasks, specifically those that involved speaking with co-organizers.

As the night went on, Leehan finally went up to Jaehyun and Taesan again to congratulate them both. As per their request, Leehan agreed to lead the toast. He introduced himself once more to the guests, introduced himself as their friend, introduced himself as the wedding planner’s pianist. He went on to share the day he met Jaehyun for the first time, went on to share the night at the fast-food chain where he had quietly observed him with Taesan.

“To Taesan and Jaehyun!” Leehan said as he raised his glass of champagne. The guests repeated after him, glasses clinked in every direction of the hall.

Leehan noted one final thing for the night: Love can only grow, not be contained. Seeing Taesan and Jaehyun clink their glasses with each other, then followed by a kiss, it gave Leehan a rush in his chest that made him smile with content.

As the wilted petals from his old love nourished the soil in his heart, he realized there was a new love he wanted to cultivate.

After a few more conversations, Leehan stepped out into the garden. The sun had set hours ago. He immediately spotted a figure in the distance. He smiled, took a photo before walking closer.

“Bubbles?” Leehan asked.

Sungho sat on the curb of the garden path, blowing bubbles from a long wand. He sneered at Leehan but moved an inch to his side. Leehan naturally sat in the space beside him.

“What are you doing here? Do you need anything?” Sungho asked, blowing on the wand again.

“Just remembered you were here,” Leehan said. He stared at the bubbles floating freely through the air. “Did you know? That it was Taesan’s wedding?”

“Of course I did,” Sungho replied. “I know you won’t accept the job if you knew who the couple was. Also, you needed a little excuse not to go to his wedding, didn’t you?”

Leehan was surprised. “You knew?”

“I have eyes,” Sungho shrugged.

Sungho was the main wedding planner and Leehan’s boss for the evening. Leehan was well aware of how observant he could get. They had met years ago when Sungho approached him after Leehan spontaneously played a piece in a music shop just because Woonhak dared him to. Sungho’s usual pianist had ghosted him right after being paid and now he needed a replacement. That was how Leehan started playing for weddings. That was how he became Sungho’s go-to pianist for the past few years.

“Honestly, I always thought I’d be playing River Flows in You for you and Taesan.” Sungho sent more bubbles into the night's chilly air. Leehan watched them float as high as they could before they popped, leaving small splats of solution on the grass.

“Bet you didn’t expect the other groom, too,” Leehan said, knowing fully that the only times Sungho had seen Taesan was when he was with Leehan. Never with Jaehyun. The first time he saw Jaehyun was likely for wedding planning purposes.

But Sungho’s expression and behavior today towards the wedding told Leehan otherwise.

Another case in point: Sungho blew bubbles on Leehan’s face.

“You know him?” Leehan probed.

“He was the one who hired me to plan their wedding.”

“That’s all?”

“If he can pretend we're strangers, I can too.”

As expected, there was more to it. Leehan gave him a look and waited for Sungho to tell him more. Sungho looked back at him, rolled his eyes as he sighed in defeat.

“He wanted long term, I didn't. I insisted we’re just casual. Six years later, he called and asked the business to help him plan his wedding.”

“Six years.”

“Yeah.” Sungho felt embarrassed and blew more bubbles. The bubble solution was half empty now.

“So, what got you so grumpy today?”

“I don’t know.” Sungho sighed again. “You only realize what you really want when it's already too late. There's nothing you can do about it. It is what it is. There's no taking back the things we did.”

“Or the things we didn't do.” Leehan added.

“Your turn,” Sungho began as he returned the wand in the bottle. “Tell me why I didn't play River Flows in You for the both of you?”

“He’s a flower.”

“And the flower dies when you pluck it out. I already knew that. Don’t get all sappy on me.” Sungho busied himself once more with the bubbles. The distinct fragrance of the bubble solution began mixing with the scent of wet grass.

“If I want to be a good gardener, I should know when to leave my flowers alone.” Leehan stated. Sungho didn't pry further. Leehan wanted him to. He reached out to a few of the bubbles in front of him, felt the bubbles pop on his palm, felt his skin getting damp with each pop.

As Leehan waited for him to speak. Sungho offered the bubble wand instead. Leehan took it. The bottle and the wand were warm from Sungho’s touch.

Leehan loaded the wand with the solution and blew air through the small holes. More bubbles filled the air. They had been watching the same thing for minutes, but the bubbles were interesting. They floated wherever the breeze led them, popped whenever they pleased.

“Leehan,” Sungho said after a moment. “Am I a flower too?”

Leehan blew more bubbles at a steady pace. He felt his face flush, but that could be the champagne he had earlier.

“Do you want to be a flower?” Leehan asked back.

Sungho didn't reply. He leaned back on his hands. He looked up and was surprised to see that some bubbles could fly at such great heights before disappearing into the dark.

“I’m not your gardener, and I don't know how your flower type lives,” Leehan added, fully aware of the implications of their conversation.

He dipped the wand into the bottle and placed it in front of Sungho’s face, right across his lips. Sungho stared at it, watched as a single drop of the solution dripped down and landed on his tie. He puckered his lips and blew air through the wand himself. A stream of bubbles floated once more.

“But I won’t stop you from growing. You’re welcome in my garden, Sungho.”

Sungho laughed for the first time that evening.

“That’s right. Don’t kill me,” he joked. He turned his head to the side to look at Leehan. “As my new gardener, take care of me even if I'm just a weed.”

“So you guys were here all along,” a voice said from behind.

The two looked back to see Riwoo approaching them. “Guests have started going home. We also started the pack-up.”

“Did the grooms leave yet?” Sungho quickly asked.

“Not yet. They wanted to talk to you.”

Sungho looked at Leehan with a knowing look and sighed through his smile. He then stood up, stretched after pocketing his bottle. “Let’s go. You too, Leehan. Play some background music for us.”

As they stepped into the doors of the Diamond Hall, Sungho suddenly pulled Leehan by the arm. As he turned Leehan to face him, he then pressed the back of his hand against Leehan’s forehead, then moved to check the temperature of his neck.

“What's wrong?” Leehan asked, flustered.

“You’re red, but you don’t seem to have a fever.” Sungho began comparing their temperatures. He had one hand on Leehan’s forehead again and the other on his own. “Did you drink the champagne? You know we still have work tomorrow.”

Leehan took Sungho’s wrists and moved them away from his face. “No, I didn't. That's just the heat.”

Yet Sungho felt the evening cold on his cheek. He slowly nodded to himself, thought that it must be why Leehan had been talking about flowers and gardening all of a sudden.

“Just sit at the piano. After we finish packing up, I’ll take you home myself,” Sungho commanded. He knew of Leehan’s limits.

“Any requests?” Leehan asked as they finally entered the room.

“Surprise me,” Sungho replied to which Leehan laughed at. It wasn’t the first time he heard that reply tonight.

“What's funny? Is the alcohol getting to you?”

“No, just remembered something.”

Leehan sat at the stool of the grand piano. He positioned his hands at the keys, felt them smooth on his fingertips. He gave one final look at Sungho before starting the song he had in mind:

Cant help falling in love, Elvis Presley.