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The first time Seungmin dreamt of that boy, he was fourteen years old.
Seungmin had had strange and unexplainable dreams since he could remember, dreams that seemed so vivid and scary that when he woke up, he had to ground himself with a hand on his chest and try to steady his breathing to avoid having a panic attack in the middle of the night. The worst dreams were always during the busiest school days, between exams and every waking moment spent studying, when the stress and pressure were so intense that he would fall asleep right after an intense study session, stomach cramping from skipping dinner but too exhausted to even satisfy a basic need like eating. He would gladly avoid eating if it meant getting an extra half an hour of sleep, even when his sleep was seldom peaceful.
One night, however, everything changed. In that dream, Seungmin was lying on a magnificent field filled with yellow flowers, so realistic that he could feel the warm sun shining above him and the soft grass below him, tickling his skin ever so slightly. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun's rays, but in doing so, his arm collided with something right next to him. Or rather, someone. He turned his head and noticed a boy his age lying beside him, looking back at Seungmin. He had short brown hair, a mole under his left eye, and bright eyes that looked at him with curiosity and a glimpse of fear. The two boys' faces were only a few centimetres apart, but neither appeared to be bothered by their proximity or attempted to distance themselves. The stranger then extended a tentative hand and gently stroked Seungmin's cheek with his thumb, in a gesture that expressed nothing but pure fondness. Seungmin's lips stretched into a smile at the tender gesture. The stranger’s hand felt warm and soft against his skin, and his movements so delicate, as if he was handling something fragile that could break at any moment. In a bold gesture, Seungmin placed a hand on his waist and got closer to press his forehead against the boy’s. It was so blissful, and it was like Seungmin's body knew what to do before his brain did. It felt so real. Too real, almost suffocating.
When Seungmin awoke abruptly from his dream and returned to reality, the first thing he felt wasn’t fear or dread, but a deep hollowness in his chest. His heart hammered against his ribcage as the warm sensation from the dream faded, giving way to cold sweats. The dream was tender and simple, both heavenly and dangerous for the fourteen-year-old boy, who had only recently realised that he wasn't interested in girls no matter how hard he forced himself. He was in the age of puberty, of first loves and first kisses, but the mere thought of being intimate with a girl made his stomach churn as if something felt misplaced, when it should feel natural to him. He couldn’t say out loud what he really felt, not to his older sister, not to his friends, and certainly not to his parents. Seungmin had no one to rely on. The shame of being considered faulty, an abomination, the loathing gazes of friends and acquaintances… It would be too much.
So, he did what he thought was the right thing to do: keep everything to himself and let his future self handle it. But before doing that, there was something he needed to do first.
He unlocked his phone, the glaring light of the screen in the dark room was hurting his still sleepy eyes, but Seungmin was stubbornly determined to get to the bottom of it. He researched the meaning of dreams, what it meant when a stranger appeared in his dreams, whether the brain was even able to conjure up new faces out of thin air. It was still dark outside, it was probably four in the morning, meaning that Seungmin could actually try to have a few extra hours of sleep instead of being so fixated on something that might mean nothing at all. And yet, there was something that was pulling him, kind of like an itch inside his brain that only this kind of research done in the middle of the night could scratch.
After what seemed like hours of research, between conflicting information and a deep dive into psychoanalysis, he finally reached a conclusion that left him somewhat satisfied. He learnt that the human brain is incapable of creating new faces, so the “strangers” a person sees in their dreams are actually real people met during the day but may not know or remember. His research suggested that he had at the very least seen the boy in his dream, but Seungmin couldn’t pinpoint at all when or where he saw him. He could be anyone—a schoolmate from a different grade, a friend of a friend, a stranger he briefly glanced at while walking through the park... As for the reason why he dreamt of him, Seungmin wasn’t ready to admit it out loud.
He tried to avoid thinking about it too much. He decided to write that dream down in a still blank notebook—in English, so that his parents' prying eyes couldn't decipher what was written on those pages—and that was the last time he allowed his mind to dwell on the boy.
☾
The second time Seungmin dreamed of that same boy, he was twenty years old. In the oneiric surrounding, he recognised the comfort of his own room with its cream-coloured walls and dull curtains. The stranger was there again, this time with blond shoulder-length hair and a more mature appearance, but with the same bright eyes and tender smile he had six years before. The mole under his left eye had faded and looked more like a freckle, but Seungmin still thought it looked lovely.
The boy was sitting on Seungmin's lap, both hands cupping his cheeks, and Seungmin's hand was nestled in the other's soft hair. Although Seungmin was fully aware that he was dreaming, he could feel the softness of the stranger's lips against his as they kissed, the wetness of his tongue teasingly licking Seungmin's bottom lip, and the warmth of the boy's body on top of him. It should have felt filthy, the way their lips smacked and their hands roamed to explore each other’s bodies, and yet there was nothing but love and gentleness in their movements.
“I love you,” Seungmin heard himself saying as the two pulled away. The boy smiled.
“I love you too,” the boy replied, giving him a tender look that made Seungmin's head spin. At that moment, it was as if his brain and body had their own autonomy, and he was only a spectator in his body. Seungmin's mouth moved on its own, and a name appeared on his lips.
“Hyunjin?” Seungmin asked in a frail tone, the name sweet and thick like honey.
“Yes, love?” the boy replied, stroking Seungmin's nape with a tender hand.
And Seungmin awoke abruptly, the warmth of the dream replaced by the loneliness of reality and the cold sheets of his bed.
Seungmin couldn't help but wonder, 'Why now?' as he replayed the dream in his mind in order to remember every single detail. When he was fourteen, he blamed it on the fact that he was suppressing his attraction to boys, prompting his subconscious to create a scenario in which his true desire emerged. But why did he dream of that same boy again at twenty, after finally accepting his homosexuality? It was probably a coincidence, Seungmin mused, but at the same time he felt a strange feeling at the back of his mind that suggested otherwise.
Without wasting any more seconds, Seungmin grabbed the same notebook he had used six years ago, its pages still untainted except for the first one, and with the help of the flash of his phone he scribbled that new dream down in a hurried and messy handwriting, adding the name ‘Hyunjin’ in capital letters at the bottom of the page. When he was finished, he stared at the words written in blue ink, the boy's name echoing in his mind.
‘Hyunjin,’ Seungmin found himself whispering to himself in the silent room, tasting that sweet name on his tongue like a piece of candy. He could easily get addicted to it.
☾
"Maybe he's your soulmate," Jeongin—Seungmin's best friend and the only person who knew about his sexuality—joked after hearing the bizarre story, his tone light-hearted as if he didn't really mean what he said.
“But it’s been six years, why now? Do you think I’m reading too much into it?” Seungmin wondered aloud, his thoughts scattered and confused, but Jeongin only shrugged. Normally, Seungmin didn’t believe in anything that couldn’t be explained with logic. In fact, his rationality was one of the things he was most proud of. But that situation was completely unexplainable, and the fact that he had little to no information about an event that had a significant impact on him frustrated him a lot. The unknown felt too unbearable to him. “You don’t happen to know a boy named Hyunjin who fits the description, do you?” Seungmin tentatively asked, cringing internally at the hint of desperation in his voice and the absurdity of his request, only to let out a bitter sigh when Jeongin’s answer was negative. Maybe he really was overthinking, Seungmin thought. After all, he was a closeted gay boy in a conservative country, with no experience in the field of love other than a couple of crushes on some of his classmates back in high school—crushes that Seungmin tried as hard as he could to forget, lest he suffer a heartbreak at best and a beating at worst if somehow they found out. Perhaps his subconscious gave him that fictitious scenario because he knew, deep down, that he would never be able to achieve that in the real world.
☾
Seungmin tossed and turned on his bed, hoping that sleep could come to him soon, but to no avail. Despite the promise he made to himself to forget about that second dream, he couldn’t help but see the boy—Hyunjin—every time he closed his eyes. His long hair so soft to the touch, his curious eyes, his tender voice, the feeling of his plump lips pressed against his own…
Seungmin let out a soft groan that seemed so loud in the otherwise silent room. Against his own advice, he couldn’t keep Hyunjin out of his head. He touched his lips where Hyunjin kissed him so greedily: Seungmin had never kissed a boy before—he’d never kissed anyone, for that matter—and he had never dated anyone either. So, how could a dream seem so real that he could feel the warmth of the hands that cupped his face, as if the contact was genuine rather than a product of his own subconscious, when he had no experience of it? How could he be able to smell the faint scent of body lotion on Hyunjin’s body, and taste the strawberry chapstick on his lips as they kissed? How could he possibly know the feeling of another boy stealing the breath from his lungs? He wasn't supposed to know all of that, he wasn't supposed to know how a first kiss felt, and he certainly wasn't supposed to dream of the same stranger twice.
The best thing to do was to just go back to sleep and forget about all of that. And yet, at the same time, he was afraid of going to sleep. He was afraid of falling asleep with the hope of seeing him again, only to wake up disappointed after a dreamless night. He was afraid of becoming too attached to someone who was supposedly only a fragment of his mind, of chasing something nonexistent rather than focusing on the surrounding reality. Seungmin was never one to believe in things that were illogical or to have unrealistic expectations, but that changed when he dreamed of him for the second time. He felt as if he was losing his grip on reality, unable to tell what was real and what was not, and that terrified him.
Seungmin threw the comforter aside, put on a hoodie and a pair of jeans, and went outside. That was something he started doing at seventeen, on those nights when he had too many thoughts in his head that prevented him from falling asleep, and needed to feel the crisp air of Seoul hitting his face and clearing his mind. He would sneak out and walk with no aim in mind, just letting his body decide where to carry him instead of his brain. Once satisfied and calm enough, he would open the Maps app on his phone and follow the path back home.
He gently closed the door so as not to alert his family, and stepped out of the house to greet the still awake city. He wandered aimlessly, his body on autopilot, while the bright lights of Seoul kept him company. Usually, he would put on his earphones and listen to music as he walked, but at that moment he wanted to revel in the noises of the city—the engine of cars passing by, the unsteady footsteps of the businessmen coming back home after a night spent drinking, the loud music from a distant nightclub, the occasional sirens of the ambulance dashing past the traffic… Among that chaos, Seungmin found calmness.
He wasn’t sure how much time he spent walking, but he suddenly found himself in front of a dilapidated playground hidden in plain sight. It must have been abandoned for a long time, Seungmin thought, his gaze fixed on the rusty monkey bars wrapped in vines and on the seesaw’s wood, which had become cracked and swollen due to humidity. When he was little, the monkey bars and the hurricane spinner felt so intimidating, so dangerous, something that only older kids could play with. But at that moment, the sight of that decaying metal brought a sense of nostalgia and even bitterness, as if nature had no business claiming something that belonged to his memories.
Seungmin swept the dirt from one of the swings and sat down, the chains squeaking with a lament from Seungmin’s weight on the seat. He closed his eyes, and let his mind wander. Instead of running away, he let himself sit with his feelings and with the thoughts that had plagued his mind for way too long. He allowed himself to analyse his fears, his doubts, his hesitation, and the attachment he felt for Hyunjin. Assuming that Hyunjin was a real existing person.
“He’s just a figment of my imagination,” Seungmin whispered, but he wasn’t so certain anymore. It wasn’t just a delusion or some sort of psychosis. Something in the deepest pit of his heart was telling him that Hyunjin existed, and he was waiting for him.
‘Or maybe I’m truly losing my mind,’ Seungmin thought with a sigh. Whatever it was, it was useless to obsess over it to the point of losing sleep. His family and acquaintances would describe him as detached, serious, goal-oriented. His sister and Jeongin would describe him as a nerd. But deeper down, beyond those layers, there was a soul that yearned intensely. He never showed his vulnerable side to anyone, scared of being hurt if he did so, but just because he kept it concealed didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He just preferred to show it to the right people. Or person.
Seungmin finally stood up, careful not to break the already fragile chains of the swing. He unlocked his phone and typed in his house address on the Maps app. Twenty-five minutes on foot. He took his earphones out of his pocket, plugged them into his phone, and let the music drown out his thoughts. Being obsessive would not change things—he had already scoured every social media by typing ‘Hyunjin’ in the search bar, hoping to see a familiar set of eyes and plump lips, but he gave up after days of intense but fruitless research. Not only was Hyunjin an incredibly common name, but it was also a unisex one, and he didn’t even know his surname. However, trying to suppress every thought of him wasn’t the answer either. So, Seungmin allowed Hyunjin to be on his mind. Not as the epicentre of his life, but like a train passing by before disappearing into the horizon.
☾
“Seungmin”
Seungmin woke up with a startle, his lungs devoid of any oxygen and his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He gasped for air, frightened and desperate just like someone who was about to drown, but there was no water around him.
Hyunjin. He could recognise that voice among millions. Two years after the last dream, he came back to him with a plea.
Seungmin didn’t understand why, but he felt the urge to go back to that dilapidated playground. Something was calling to him, and he had no intention of letting that voice go. If nothing was there, Seungmin told himself, he would leave that whole story behind. He would stop chasing after a fantasy, maybe he would start seeing a therapist in secret, but he didn’t want the thought of that boy to drive him to madness for the rest of his life.
He put on a shirt and a pair of shorts, and headed outside to that playground. He had only walked that road once, that one time, and yet it was as if his body knew automatically which way to take, when to turn left, when to cross the road. His heart was still thundering in his chest, but he didn’t have time to catch his breath or slow down. Something was pulling at him, manoeuvring his body like a puppet on strings. He didn’t want to set high expectations in order not to be disappointed, but that familiar feeling at the pit of the stomach was way too big to be ignored. It was like a boulder, getting bigger and bigger with each step that led him closer to that playground. Through poorly-lit alleyways and main roads, Seungmin was moving like a desperate man, as if he was being chased by someone. For a fraction of a second, he even thought about those few passersby who were seeing him running so desperately in the middle of the night—he must look like a madman to them. But every thought was secondary to him, except for the boy who came into his dreams when he was only fourteen.
Seungmin reached his destination, his leg muscles burning and his lungs demanding oxygen once again. He allowed himself to catch his breath for a few minutes, before venturing further into the abandoned playground. He only made a few steps, then he halted. There was someone there, sitting on the exact same swing he had sat on many years ago. Seungmin’s heart began beating loudly again, while his head was spinning so much that he thought he was going to fall to the ground. It was difficult to distinguish the features of the boy sitting on the swing in the dim light of the streetlamps, and the curtain of long black hair framing his face made it even harder. The stranger had his eyes fixed on the ground, his head slightly bowed down. He didn’t even notice Seungmin, who was standing right in front of him, only a few metres away.
With each passing second, the courage was leaving Seungmin’s body, and rationality was taking its place. He felt so stupid. The boy in front of him was probably a stranger, maybe someone who suffered from insomnia and headed out in search of a distraction. And Seungmin was staring at him in a way that he was sure was creepy.
Seungmin was about to turn around and go away, to disappear from that stranger and from that playground altogether, to finally forget about Hyunjin. But the second he conjured his muscles to move, the boy in front of him suddenly raised his head and locked eyes with him.
Seungmin’s body froze.
It was him. His Hyunjin. He was looking at Seungmin with such wide eyes, his face a mask of many emotions—surprise, recognition, incredulity, vulnerability. Fear. His curious eyes, the faded mole under his left eye, his plump lips, his sharp jawline… Every facial feature was exactly the same as the Hyunjin that came to him in those dreams, down to every single detail. Seungmin closed his hand into a fist and sank his fingernails into the soft flesh of his palm, and he dug so hard that he felt the skin ripping a bit. He did it to make sure that it wasn’t yet another dream, that he wouldn’t wake up in a few seconds on the verge of a panic attack. But the pain was definitely real. He wasn’t dreaming.
“Seungmin,” Hyunjin said, his voice so frail that Seungmin almost didn’t hear it. Then, Hyunjin’s eyes were filled with tears.
He sprang from the swing, the rusty chains making a frightening noise in the process, and walked towards him in hurried steps. Once there was no distance between them anymore, Hyunjin threw himself into Seungmin’s arms and enveloped him in a tight hug.
Seungmin melted in Hyunjin’s arms, in the hug that he didn’t know he desperately needed. He wrapped his arms around Hyunjin, hugging him tightly and with the same force. No, that definitely wasn’t a dream.
“I’ve been looking for you for so long,” Hyunjin said, his words coming out muffled due to his face being buried in the crook of Seungmin’s neck. Then, Seungmin’s sight got blurred from the tears. There was no mistaking it—the scent of his body lotion, the softness of his locks, the warmth of his body… That was really Hyunjin. All those years spent looking weren’t in vain. All those nights when he fell asleep in hope of seeing him again, that feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of him, and even those moments when he felt he was bordering on insanity. It was over. Hyunjin was there, right in front of him, hugging him like he too had gone through the same frustrating process and doubts. Fate can be so cruel at times.
Seungmin didn’t know how many minutes they spent in each other’s arms, but Hyunjin eventually broke the hug to look him in the eyes.
“You’re… Real,” Seungmin said, eliciting a watery laugh from Hyunjin. And then, just like in one of his dreams, Hyunjin took Seungmin’s face in both his hands, his movements so delicate and careful as if the other could suddenly disappear into thin air. But Seungmin had no intention of moving, not when the boy of his dreams—quite literally—was finally in front of him in the flesh.
And so, the two boys stood in an abandoned playground in the middle of the night, as they hungrily examined each other’s faces to drink in every detail. Hyunjin’s thumb stroked Seungmin’s cheekbone, while Seungmin’s hands found their place on Hyunjin’s waist. Every movement felt so natural, it was like Seungmin’s body already knew what to do way before his brain. And the same was for Hyunjin, who was admiring Seungmin with awe as if he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.
It was like time froze, and they were the only two people left on the face of the Earth. Seungmin got even closer to Hyunjin, his movements deliberately slow to give Hyunjin the chance to put distance between them, if he wanted to. He stopped only when he was mere centimetres away from Hyunjin’s face, enough to feel the other’s breath tickling his lips and the familiar scent of his strawberry chapstick. But instead, Hyunjin closed the distance and caught Seungmin’s lips in a kiss, while the darkness of the night shielded them from the outside world.
And like that, Seungmin felt alive again.