Work Text:
Chen Kaiwen was never seen without a camera.
Every single moment he loved was captured on his SD card, the little digital screens bursting with life and colour and love and memory.
He had moments of Anxin laughing, pure and unguarded, Jiahao’s tiny, sweet smile, rare and true. He kept them close, the pixels seemingly stopping time, capturing the emotions of the people he loved so very much. His friends chasing each other jokingly, mid laughter, Junseo feeding some cake to Anxin, Xinlong and Jiahao doing a dance performance together with the widest smiles on their faces, all the pictures paused, mid-happiness, paused colours and laughter meshing together to be captured under his camera lens.
But among all the pictures, one face appeared the most often.
Zhang Jiahao, one of his best friends, the best dancer in the school, and the person he loved the most.
Kaiwen never stared for too long. He never did anything to show anyone how starlight bloomed in his chest whenever he talked to Jiahao. How he captured the littlest details on his lens, details a little too intricate and personal, even for someone like Kaiwen. Little sparks of life that you would only see if you looked closely enough.
Because Jiahao had his eyes on someone else.
Everyone knew. No one dared to say a thing. Not to Kaiwen, not to Jiahao, and definitely not to Kim Junseo.
Kim Junseo, the perfect student who got perfect grades, tutored others for free, laughed and smiled with everyone else, and was universally seen as an angel who did a bit too much for his own good. The artist that painted details more intricate than most would, spending hours in front of his canvas to perfect his art, and somehow captured the most beautiful emotions with just his paintbrushes.
It was not wrong to love Kim Junseo.
But was it too selfish for Kaiwen to wish to have Jiahao to himself, just this once?
Was it wrong that he didn’t want Junseo to have Jiahao?
Was he evil for wishing Junseo wasn’t so perfect, so that he had a reason to dislike the artist?
Chen Kaiwen could only stand back. With his camera, he captured small moments of the two staring at each other, their knuckles brushing against each other, their shared giggles and touches that they thought they could hide.
And he quietly wished he could be like Junseo.
ʚɞ
The days passed, Anxin and Xinlong watching it all unfold as Jiahao and Junseo danced around each other slowly, and Kaiwen stood at a distance, a ticking timebomb waiting to blow up.
Xinlong thought it was tragic.
Anxin saw his best friend falling apart.
Kaiwen pointed his camera wordlessly most of the time, letting the clicks and the pixels do the talking. He smiled, laughed when he had to, and talked animatedly at times, letting his signature smile appear sometimes. He ignored the fact that the boy he’d loved for two years was in love with another, and pretended he was okay. He showed everyone the side that he wanted to believe. The Kaiwen that didn’t go through unrequited love, the Kaiwen that didn’t have to watch Zhang Jiahao fall for someone else in real time.
He wished he was okay.
Anxin wished the same thing.
Anxin loved Junseo too. He loved him like a brother who took care of him, like someone who heard and saw him. Anxin loved Jiahao, as a friend who listened, helped and heard, in every way he could.
But he loved Kaiwen the most, his best friend of ten years.
He’d seen Kaiwen reject people, fall for Jiahao, and wait silently with his camera by his side.
It broke Anxin to see Kaiwen like this.
He wanted his best friend to be happy.
And he hated that two of the people he loved dearly were slowly, unknowingly breaking his closest friend into pieces.
ʚɞ
It was the 3rd of December, 2024.
The school day concluded with the sky converting to a dark grey, the clouds covering the sun as rain fell against the pavement. The wind was strong, and Kaiwen had nothing but a small umbrella, having worn short sleeves that day.
Jiahao wordlessly took off his sweater and placed it over Kaiwen’s shoulders. It was a light shade of purple, close to lilac, but slightly faded out from the numerous washes it’d been through.
It was Jiahao’s favourite.
“Keep it.” He’d said. “It looks better on you.”
And so Kaiwen did.
He held it close. Left it untouched, folded perfectly and perched on the side of his table, only taking it out to wear on special occasions where he knew he would see Jiahao.
He’d worn it exactly three times.
On the third time he’d worn it, during Anxin and his own joint birthday celebration, he saw Junseo and Jiahao talking quietly, laughing softly, looking at each other like no one else existed.
He hated it.
He was turning nineteen, and he couldn’t even have the boy he loved to himself for just one day.
So he kept quiet.
Captured another moment on camera.
The flash was white and blinding, capturing the sweet moment, remembered as one that Kaiwen would never forget.
It kept him up at night.
And he hated that he couldn’t stop wishing he was in Junseo’s place.
ʚɞ
Kaiwen wrote in his journal daily. He’d export photos from his camera, choose the best ones of the day, print them out and stick them into his journal with glue tape, writing in the margins around them in his small, slightly messy handwriting, about the day’s happenings and his feelings.
Almost every single day, he’d write about Jiahao.
On his birthday, the 19th of December, his entry did not contain any pictures. Just words.
“I turn nineteen today. I should be happy. Everyone is happy for me, and I received a lot of love and gifts.”
“But I’m not. Today also marks my second year that I’ve been in love with Jiahao, and the second year he’s not returned my feelings.
“Junseo is an amazing guy. But I wonder…
What would it be like if he loved me back? I wish he did. I really wish I could be Junseo, so he would love me too.”
There was a singular, brownish-red drop near the corner of the page.
He’d spent the night of his birthday awake, not with smiles, but with tears streaming down his face as he sobbed quietly.
Tiny lacerations decorated his forearm. Faded scars, some across the length of his forearm, some palm sized and some barely even visible. Three fresh ones bled as he cried, his tears mixing with the bright red, dripping onto his clothes and a single drop landing on his journal before he pushed it away.
Maybe that was why he'd been hiding his arms under long sleeves and hoodies since autumn started.
ʚɞ
Anxin and Xinlong were worried sick.
They knew Kaiwen couldn’t keep hiding behind his smiles and his camera.
He captured every moment like his life depended on it, showing his friends all the happy moments he’d captured, teasing Jiahao and Junseo’s endless game of back-and-forth with a wide smile on his face.
The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Anxin noticed first. He would show up to Kaiwen’s house with kimchi and porridge, or any other foods Kaiwen loved, because he knew his best friend had stopped eating properly at some point. Every hangout, he’d click away on his camera, while he barely ate anything, smiling at Junseo and gazing at Jiahao with a wistful smile. Anxin made sure his best friend ate, and sometimes they sat in silence, in the comfort of each other, and other times, they talked about every other topic just to distract Kaiwen from Jiahao and his increasingly hopeless situation.
Sometimes, they’d talk about Jiahao too. Kaiwen would rant or talk about how angry he was that he couldn’t do anything to change things. That it was no one’s fault. That he wished he would be free from this never ending cycle of pain.
Xinlong knew he was truly gone.
Xinlong tried to help him in other ways.
Xinlong would stand by Kaiwen, one hand on the younger’s shoulder, a silent voice next to the boy with the camera. He appreciated every photo that was taken, showing Kaiwen which photos he liked the most, and helping Kaiwen with anything he needed. He listened to Kaiwen talk, attentive and sharp, ready to detect anything that was slightly off.
Xinlong did everything in his power to be a supporting pillar. Someone Kaiwen could trust and hold on to.
ʚɞ
Junseo and Jiahao announced their relationship on the 12th of January.
No one was shocked. Everyone was happy for them. Xinlong said it took them long enough, with a teasing smile and a light punch to Jiahao’s shoulder.
Anxin tried to smile, but he was more worried than he was happy.
His heart ached for Kaiwen.
He had no choice but to watch as his best friend fell apart right in front of his eyes, congratulating the couple with tear-filled eyes, hiding his face behind his camera one last time.
ʚɞ
Later the same day, Anxin called Kaiwen nineteen times. Just to check if his best friend was still doing okay.
No response.
It took ten minutes for Anxin to arrive at Kaiwen’s apartment.
He rang the doorbell thrice.
No response.
He used the spare key, tucked into the corner of the carpet.
He opened the door of Kaiwen’s apartment, greeted by his worst nightmare.
Blood.
Blood splattered in tiny drops at the door, dried up and slightly brown at the corners.
“Kaiwen?” Anxin called out, his voice trembling, stepping inside.
The apartment was ghostly quiet. His voice echoed, and he looked around.
Clean. Too clean.
The tables were largely empty, a few things scattered here and there. The lilac sweater was neatly placed on the dining table, and a journal and camera next to it.
And blood. Tiny drops, scattered around the table and floor.
Two short sentences were written on the journal’s cover.
我爱你。我永远都会爱你。
“I love you. I will love you forever.”
A vibration rang from Anxin’s pocket, causing him to startle slightly.
“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately, his voice shaky.
“Hello, Mr. Zhou. This is a call from W1 Hospital. This call is regarding Chen Kaiwen, who has you listed as your emergency contact.”
Fuck.
“He was found in his home after a neighbour called us, worried about suspicious noises coming from his home.”
“After we arrived, we found a case of attempted suicide. He had several cuts on his arms and had overdosed, and we did everything we could to keep him alive.”
“Unfortunately, Chen Kaiwen passed away en route to the hospital.”
ʚɞ
The wake was small.
Anxin, Jiahao, Junseo and Xinlong, a few other friends, and Kaiwen’s family.
It all ended too fast.
He was barely nineteen.
For the first time, Anxin could finally pick up Kaiwen’s journal and camera.
When he was home, he took the camera first, inserting the SD card into his laptop. A folder popped up, and he clicked on it.
Hundreds of candid photos in vivid light, memories captured by Kaiwen’s hand, all to keep in little pixels that would carry on.
Jiahao. Anxin. Junseo. Jiahao. Xinlong. Jiahao again.
Kaiwen barely had any photos of himself. Just of his friends.
A tiny tear rolled down Anxin’s cheek, seeing the world through his best friend’s eyes.
He wished he could have prevented this.
He opens the journal next.
Pages filled with black ink and paper cutouts, in love and tears, in joy and sadness.
The last entry was from the day of his death.
12th January, 2025.
Kaiwen died watching Junseo mesmerize Jiahao.
“It’s been two years. It’s finally over. Jiahao is in a relationship with someone else.”
“I’m not surprised that it’s Junseo-hyung. Junseo is amazing and treats everyone well. I wish them all the best.
“To Anxin, I know you’re reading this. I’m sorry to you and Xinlong. You two did your best to help me, but I was too far gone. I’m sorry for being your best friend. You deserved someone better.
To Jiahao and Junseo, I wish you a happy relationship. Be happy, travel the world, and live happily.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t hold on. I hid for too long. I forgot how to live as a normal person, because now all I know how to do is hide and click and capture. I forgot how it feels like to be genuinely happy, and I don’t want to keep on living like this.”
“I’m sorry. I love you. I hope you all move on without me.”
The room echoes with Anxin’s sobs.
Because he failed to save the disaster he’d predicted so long ago.
He couldn’t save Kaiwen. He couldn’t save his best friend.
And he’d never see him again.