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Cale did not know why he called the guy from high school, but he was drunk with a drink that was most likely laced with something and all of his so-called friends in this stupid party are probably in on it and he does not want to call anyone from home because he would rather sleep in a ditch than see their disappointed eyes again.
And, well...
The point is, right now when his mind is a mess and he feels sick and every bad decision he's ever made seemed like it was collecting right at this moment—
Cale Henituse thought of the most responsible person he has ever met and he thought of the guy from high school.
And. Well.
His phone is a few years old and he never got a chance to change it, too lazy to get a new model actually, or maybe the phone is just holding onto something precious, but Cale has the guy's number on it by coincidence and so—
"Heyyyy..." Cale slurs, grip tight on the phone even when his vision swam, not sure really if the number he is calling is still the same after many years, "Can you come get me? Please..."
And it goes to show how desperate Cale is at the moment because he never says please, but he did remember, clearly, that the guy from high school was polite, saying please and thank you all the time, and Cale remembers thinking how fucking tedious it must be to say please and thank you to everyone, even to people who don't deserve it, but this guy does deserve it and he is asking a favor and—
"Where are you?"
It took Cale a moment to register the question, but when he did he gives the address, or as much of the address as he remembers because he was walking quite a bit on some sidewalk because he doesn't want to stay at that house with the probably spiked drinks and —
Cale doubles over and heaves out all the food he had all night, which is not a lot and probably why he got so drunk so fast, but at least he was able to lean on a tree and not fall on the asphalt, small mercies, but he dropped his phone sometime between heaving and finding somewhere to lean on and the world is swirling too much to find it easily in the dark.
He tries anyway.
Crawls on the ground to find the phone, trying to feel for it rather than see it, and Cale thought this was rather a new low, even for him, and he feels like crying but he doesn't because he was never one to cry anyway and he'd rather focus his energy to finding the phone because the guy from high school probably won't come anyway and he needs the phone to go home.
What was he thinking anyway? Calling the guy from High School. It has been years since they had graduated and they never even really talked with each other or kept in touch through the years and this is the first time Cale actually called the guy after asking for his number on impulse on graduation day so many years ago.
"Cale?"
He blinks. Did someone say his name?
"Cale!"
The world tilts on it's axis and Cale feels warm hands hold him and they were gentle, and his mind latched on that detail, that they were gentle, and he remembers years before seeing this kind of gentleness and wondering what it would feel like and now he feels it and his vision clears a bit and it is the guy from high school and he is as gentle as he thought he would be and more and—
He is here.
"You're here."
"Yes. Are you ok?"
"I dropped my phone..."
"I see it. Can you stand?"
"I was standing, I think? You're here. My phone fell."
"I am going to put you in a car, ok? Careful. I will just put on your seatbelt. Can you wait here? I will get your phone."
The world stills, and all that exist is Cale and the passing streetlights and the knowledge that the guy from high school actually came for him after a single call from a number that was as old as his phone during what is probably the lowest day of his life, so far.
The feelings this brings up are larger than his mind could process right now, crowding at the edges of his consciousness, demanding to be felt but too overwhelming to be felt at once. There is shock. He is here. The guy from high school is actually here and Cale is in shock but he is not surprised, strangely. Or more that he knew, in a way. That was just the kind of guy he is.
"You are the most responsible person I know."
Cale rambles, half in sincerity and half in a daze of drunkenness that was probably more than the alcohol and he rambles because he doesn't know what else to do but also he meant every word of it.
The guy from high school really was the most responsible person he knows, more than Ron who washes his hands off of everything and more than Eric-hyung who only knows how to nag and more than his father who looks the other way in the name of guilt dressed as love.
His words are clear in his mind but a little rough and broken out loud, but he doesn't notice, and that is fine, they are words he needed said, both to fill the space and to feel.
Cale keeps rambling.
"You always say please and thank you to everyone even when they don't deserve it. You always carry the heavier books when the teacher asks you and class president to bring them back to the office. You never complained even when you looked like you want to, but you stand your ground when the world is wrong and you know you are in the right."
Cale fidgets with the phone on his hand, because of course the guy really did get the phone because he said he would and not just say it to appease him. That is just the kind of guy he is.
"I saw you... You fed the kittens behind the school cafeteria every lunch break, and snuck in on weekends to feed them then too. You think no one knows but I know because I can see you from the 4th floor and you didn't need to do that but you did anyway and... You don't talk much but when you do it is always just right. And you listen. You listen and you care. You always did... You didn't know me, but you helped me find my mom's ring when I lost it and I thought..."
There is a reason why Cale Henituse called the guy in high school he has not seen or spoken to for many years, on why kept his old phone with the old number even when he can more than afford to replace it, on why he could never forget the guy from high school with obsidian hair and kind, kind russet eyes.
"...I thought if it's you, I will be fine. If it's you, I will be fine and you really came and I... I'm fine and I'm right. I'm ok. Because you are here and... and... you really came and... "
Cale Henituse closes his eyes, exhausted but ok, as he never thought he would be, not until the guy from high school actually came and took care of him like he knew he would because he was just that kind of guy that was responsible and gentle and kind, and maybe when he wakes up later in the hospital with an IV on the back of his hand and the guy from high school waiting worried by his bedside, he can finally sort out all these feelings.
Later.
For now,
For now he dreams of many years ago, of the wind between obsidian hair and scars peeking at the edges of the uniform, of muddy knees and dirt smeared hands gently holding a once lost ring, and kind, kind russet eyes on a sunset that painted the sky a gorgeous flame.
It was a memory of the day Cale Henituse first fell inlove with the guy from high school.
And Cale doesn't know it yet but tomorrow will begin the story of a phone call and how the guy from high school was named Kim Rok Soo and he was all Cale thought he was and more, and impossibly, in daydreams he thought would not become real but did, that the guy from high school loved him back, too.