One Week (Day Seven)
Title: One Week
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Tragedy
Pairing: YooSu (YunJae)
Length: Multi-chapter; Seven//Eight chapters
Previously: The Trailer || The Characters || The Prologue || Day One || Day Two || Day Three || Day Four || Day Five || Day Six
A/N: Sorry that it took so long... I had no idea how to write this... It was hard. It is only one of the endings at the moment (not going to say which though, you can find out later once you read) I hope that everyone still wishes to see this come to a close, no matter how it ends (whether it be happily ever after or if it is tragic) I tried hard, so I really want to see what everyone thinks. Thank you, and maybe the next ending won't take such a long time (4 weeks~ *sighs*)
Ending One
… … …
Yoochun startled from his dreams, vivid images of Junsu slowly fading away from him engraved into his mind, and looked around, eyes frantic and trying to see if his worst nightmare came true.
He was met with utter darkness and the faint sound of a heart monitor beating. He sighed in relief, happiness swelling in the pit of his stomach, knowing that Junsu was still alive. Letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room, Yoochun stretched his limbs--numbed with sleep and the awkward position he had fallen into slumber land in. His neck hurt like hell, but it was worth it. He got to spend what might be Junsu’s last night with the boy.
His slight restless movements jarred the pale teen on the bed awake, tired brown eyes slowly blinking open and turning to him. Yoochun gave a sheepish grin in apology, not quite sure if Junsu had seen it or not. Junsu shifted in the bed, turning to lay on his side, a difficult task due to the tubes attached to his arms, his gaze trained on the face of the man he loved.
“Hey,” he croaked out weakly, one hand--a hospital band tied around his dainty wrist--reached out and touched Yoochun’s cheek, the contact cold but not unwelcome by the Korean singer.
“Hi, yourself,” Yoochun whispered back with a smile, cupping the hand against his face in his own, free hand reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp.
When the soft light flickered on, Yoochun’s breath hitched in his throat, finally realizing that this was the end. Junsu’s eyes looked ready to close for good, deep purple circles embedded into overall pale skin, and his breathing ragged, throat itchy and sore, lungs not strong enough to pump air in and out of his body anymore. But still he smiled, and there was nothing in the world more beautiful at that moment.
“Chunnie…?” Junsu called out softly, or maybe it was intended to be louder than the barely audible mumble escaping from two chapped lips. “Lay by me…”
“I don’t think… that I’ll be able to fit.”
Junsu looked down, his tiny body trying to will some strength in it to move over, trying to provide Yoochun some room on the bed. When he was satisfied with the space he smiled broadly, or at least tried to, his lips were too cracked and hurt too much when he stretched them out, and patted the bed. Yoochun choked back the lump in his throat, sure that it was his heart trying to leap out of his body because Junsu’s heart was barely beating, and slowly crawled into the small free area on the bed.
Junsu snuggled closer with a small grin, whispering, “That’s better.” He placed one tiny hand over the singer’s chest, fingers tapping to the beat of the pulse, humming along a tune that Yoochun recognized as one of his songs--back from the time where all he wanted to do was sing and before he was aware of the sick fan that he had come to love.
Yoochun preferred not thinking about the time where there was no Junsu, not now, not after he met the eighteen year old…
He linked their fingers together, biting his bottom lip as he noticed how cold and shaky the other’s hands had gotten. Junsu smiled, one hand still placed over his lover’s heart while the other was held tight between two tired bodies. Even if this was the end, Junsu was happy--happy that this happened, that he found love, that he was allowed these last few days.
“I’m… going to miss you,” the teenager breathed out, moving back slightly to better look at the older male’s face. “But I’ll watch over you every day… and maybe, one day, in our next life… we can see each other again.”
Yoochun was too tired to argue. Too weak to fight any longer. Too scared to try to hang on. So he just nodded, small grin on his face that did not quite reach his eyes, and all he wanted to do was grab Junsu and kiss him senseless, love him till he was better…
Yoochun decided to stop dreaming… they would not make it to morning at this rate. Junsu was fading fast and his words were now a jumbled mess of whispers and murmurs.
Junsu’s humming was quieting, his hand in Yoochun’s growing slack, and the one above his heartbeat slowly sliding down his chest.
“Yoochun.”
“Hmm, Su?”
He was met with silence for a moment and the tears welled in his eyes, fearing that Junsu was already gone. But he felt the wetness dripping down onto his neck and trailing down underneath his shirt and he knew that Junsu had stopped trying to be strong as well.
“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to go to sleep and never wake up again. I want to see you forever.”
Yoochun buried his face in Junsu’s light brown hair, letting his tears dampen the soft locks, his body shaking… But he would never know who was crying more. He could not tell if his body was shaking in fear or sadness or love or anything. All he knew was that this was going to be the last time he would ever get to hold Junsu this tight, to have him in his arms.
Outside the hospital, in the distant horizon, Yoochun could make out the first signal of sunrise, oranges and light blues dotting along the mostly blackened sky, the sun waking up from its brief nap, and Yoochun wished that it would never stop shining.
They say that sunrise comes too soon, but for Yoochun… it was not coming soon enough.
“Hold on for another hour, Su, and you don’t have to leave me.” It was this false hope that he wanted to cling onto, even though it was no use.
“Kiss me, Chunnie.”
Junsu shifted again, until he could comfortably lean into the man that held him, his eyes closing, tiny crystal droplets gathered on his eyelashes, and pulled closer. Yoochun took one last shuddering breath before closed the gap, kissing the boy in front of his desperately, tasting their tears on his lips, and feeling the heartbreak that weighed down on them. The singer kissed the boy like there was no tomorrow (which ironically Yoochun had to admit was true), kissed him as if this was all that was keeping them alive, like he was transferring part of his life to Junsu through the passionate lip lock.
And then the kiss was broken when Junsu pulled back, eyes still closed, flush apparent on his deathly pale flesh, and there was a tiny smile on his pink lips. And with the last breath in his body, he whispered for the very final time, “I love you.” Then his body slumped forward, the heart monitor flat-lined, and Yoochun could do nothing but cry, running his hands along the deceased teen’s back, crying and murmuring, “I love you, too.”
When the doctors came not only ten minutes later, they looked at the scene in sadness. On the bed was the Korean artist, hands wrapped tight around the body that was no longer breathing, tears pooling in his auburn eyes as he kept humming to the boy that was in eternal slumber.
It took one hour and Changmin for Yoochun to finally let go. It took five hours, twenty shots of the strongest alcohol he could find, and a tearful Kim Jaejoong to get Yoochun talking again. It took another hour for Jung Yunho to get Yoochun out of the hospital and convince him to go to sleep back at the penthouse. It only took him a minute to realize that maybe the penthouse was not the best idea at the moment, Yunho turning around and taking him to Jaejoong’s place.
It took Yoochun half an hour to finally persuade the others that he was okay, that he needed time to think, be alone, and wallow in self pity by himself.
Going up the elevator to his nice little home near the top of the building had never seemed so long… and lonely.
“I’m home! Jun--” he cut himself off abruptly, remembering that he was the only one living here now… then he laughed bitterly. He was the only one living. Period.
He walked through the house (it could no longer be considered home without Junsu there), entering and leaving every room, waiting for Junsu to pop up and surprise him, tell him that this was all just some sick joke, that he was alive, and that they would get married in the spring time. But there were no surprises, there was no Junsu, and there would be no spring time kisses and exchanging of vows.
He was miserable. He was alone. He was in love with someone that was never coming back.
He slumped against the wall in the hallway, slamming his head back, feeling the tears well up in his eyes and the dull throb in his head take away from the aching lonesome inside his chest. He pictured rosy cheeks and plump lips, brown eyes shining happily as if they were dancing, beautiful dusty brown hair that smelled like sweets.
Yoochun stumbled away from the wall, the bump on the back of his head added to liquor he had already consumed causing his body to disagree with his brain at times, and he finally found himself entering his bedroom, the need for sleep strong… Maybe then he could see Junsu, feel him, and then wake up to find that this was all just a very bad dream.
He just was not prepared for what he was to open his door to.
A stuffed bunny rabbit laying peacefully in the middle of the bed, worn with age but still in a fairly decent condition.
Yoochun let the tears fall freely then, not that he would ever be able to stop them, and curled himself up in the middle of the bed, clutching the stuffed rabbit tightly against his chest, afraid that it might hop away if he did not hold on.
He had already let the owner of the plush animal slip away… he did not want to lose a piece of him as well.
“Yoochunnie? You need to wake up. Yoochunnie.”
Junsu? Yoochun let his eyes fly open then, ready to greet the love of his life and tell him about the horrible dream… But then… when his weary eyes adjusted to the light, all he saw was the concerned almost-black eyes of his best friend. Yoochun glared at his friend for a moment and then rolled back over, frustrated and disappointed and wanting so much for this dream to be over soon.
“Yoochun, you need to get your ass out of this bed.”
“Why? There’s no point,” Yoochun muttered darkly, unconsciously gripping the bunny tighter, feeling like a child that needed their security blanket. But the person that he felt safest with was no longer able to protect him, comfort him, hold him while he cried.
But Jaejoong did not like this attitude and the next thing he knew he was thrown roughly to the floor, Jaejoong straddling his waist, pinning him in place, as he stared at him angrily. Yoochun could not think of any time in the past that his easy-going, caring friend had ever looked so ticked off.
“Do you think Junsu wants you to be like this? Do you, Yoochun? You’re being a bastard, running away, and acting like the world is falling apart because he is no longer here with you.” Jaejoong’s eyes narrowed and there was an ugly scowl on his beautiful face. When Yoochun made no response, Jaejoong jerked on the other’s wrists and slammed him back down. “Answer me, damn it? Are you going to sit here and waste away because your life has no meaning now? Do you think Junsu wants this? A pathetic lover!”
“Junsu’s not here,” was Yoochun’s nonchalant reply, but his teary eyes betrayed him.
Jaejoong growled at him, fists grasping tight against Yoochun’s tiny wrists. “You won’t be either if you keep acting like this.” There was a sniffling sound made, and Yoochun could not tell who it came from. “You’ve been in bed for more than twenty-four hours now. You look like shit and you’re not answering your phone. Just because Junsu is gone doesn’t mean you can shut us out! He doesn’t want you to be like this!”
Yoochun felt something fall to his cheek and that was when he noticed that this hurt his friend just as much. Jaejoong had not gotten to spend much time with Junsu, but Jae had always attached himself to people easily… Junsu’s death probably hurt him, too. Yoochun had never thought about anyone but himself… With a pained sob, Yoochun reached up to hold onto his friend once the death grip on his wrists loosened.
“I’m so sorry, Joongie. I love him so much. I…”
Jaejoong pulled him closer, his vision blurry with all the tears he had tried to contain for Junsu and Yoochun’s sakes. “I know… it hurts…”
“I want him back.”
“Me, too, Chunnie. Me, too.”
… … …
Yoochun could not think of a more beautiful day for Junsu’s funeral. The sun was shining brightly overhead, soft wispy puffs of white streaking along the blue sky, and the first traces of autumn ending and turning to winter were present with the cold wind that blew by and let the colorful leaves dance in its wake.
And Junsu was beautiful despite the lack of warmth in his skin and the rosy color that used to be present on his young face.
“How’re you holding up, buddy?” Yunho asked later, once most people had left and others were giving their condolences to the Kim family.
Yoochun heaved a sigh. It had been two days… and it felt like such a long time already. Waking up alone was something he had still not gotten used to, the bags under his eyes evidence enough. His cheeks were stained with tears, eyes bloodshot and irritated, and his hair was disheveled due to his hands pulling at it in frustration and the breeze that relentlessly pounded against their forms.
“I’m holding on… if anything,” Yoochun replied softly, eyes glancing at the flowers that had been placed on top of the mound of dirt that covered the beautiful boy forever trapped in his teenaged body. “It’s hard, but… I know that he wants this… He wants me to be happy and live until I can see him again.”
“Yoochun…” Yunho started but was cut off by his close friend, a small sad smile stretched across his otherwise blank face, and the Jung had to bite his inner cheek at the dead expression in his friend’s eyes. He just needed time.
The famous singer bent down, placing a yellow flower (bright and sunny, like his Junsu’s smile) on the mound, right on top of the other vibrant plants that decorated the lot. “I’m not going to forget him. Ever. I don’t think I could if I tried, and I’m not sure I want to. I’m not going to attempt to find someone else, he was the one, and I know that he’s probably frowning at that, but no one gets me like him. I’m content.”
“Are you happy with that?”
Yoochun pursed his lips and then nodded.
“Yeah… as long as I can dream of him… it’s all I could ever ask for.”
… … …
“What’s this?”
It was the first thing that Changmin asked when Yoochun delicately placed a stack of papers onto his manager’s desk. Changmin lifted the stack up, looking at the title and the little notes and lyrics scattered onto the paper in black ink.
“It’s a song… It’s for Junsu.”
Changmin looked over it, let the music and melody dance through his head, then looked back up at his client with wide, glossy eyes. “It’s beautiful…”
“… I promised him… and I intended to keep this one.”
The younger man nodded, flipping through the pages, fondly thinking of how much thought and emotion was poured into the piece. It was truly a masterpiece. Even if he had always stressed the importance of making a song that would get constant radio play, time on the charts, and instant nominations for “number one song of the year” Changmin could not care less at that moment.
This was a song that deserved more than a title… It was a song that expressed true love and loss and an attempt to move on, with only the thoughts of meeting each other again propelling them onward. A song that described Yoochun’s feelings for Junsu.
“I only have one request,” Yoochun spoke after a few minutes of silence. Changmin looked up and nodded to him, a signal for the singer to continue. “I want… Yunho and Jaejoong to sing it with me. I think… that Junsu would like that.”
“I do, too,” Changmin agreed with a smile of his own, happy that his friend was doing all this, for love, for happiness, for a chance of moving on, and for Junsu.
And… that was when Changmin decided that Junsu was an angel sent to the earth to help Yoochun straighten himself out… to not take anything for granted. To experience love, life, laughter, and hopes that never died even after one’s parting.
… … …
Three weeks later had him kneeling before an ash colored tombstone, fingering the little letters engraved into the marble, and a broad smile on his full lips. He removed his bag, put down the portable radio, and rested his forehead against the cool stone that marked that this was the spot that the love of his life’s body rested under.
“Hey, Su, how have you been? I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you this past week--I was making you something for your birthday.” He paused and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, ignoring the itchy feeling that the material brought to his skin. “Speaking of which, happy birthday, babe! Jaejoong baked a cake last night and we took it to your parents and brother. There were a lot of tears and smiles and jokes and memories, but it was an overall nice night. Junho says that he misses and loves you--he doesn’t want you to think that he’s forgotten you… He’s just not ready to accept the fact that you’re… not here with us… with me…”
Yoochun reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny slip of paper, which upon further inspection was a picture. “Do you remember this? It was the second day you were with me. We went to the fair and Changmin talked us into taking pictures. Okay, so you two forced me to do it as well… and I am glad that we did. I cannot believe that this is the only picture we took together. I had a copy made of it, one for you and one for me.”
The singer placed the picture underneath a rock, making sure that neither would blow away because of the winter wind that chilled him despite his warm clothing.
“Okay, so that was part one of your gift… Part two…” Yoochun turned to his side and clicked on the tiny portable radio, hoping that the batteries had not outlived their usefulness--he had been in such a hurry to get there that he had not taken the time to make sure. Popping in a CD, he pushed play and said, “You told me to sing again. To find my inspiration and make the best songs you had ever heard… Did you know that you were the reason--the only one at that--why I have this CD? The inspiration behind all my songs… was you.” He coughed, the traces of his cold still lingering in his lungs.
Curling up on the snow covered ground, Yoochun placed the extra blankets he had brought with him around his body and underneath his head, to shield his body from the harsh weather, and slowly drifted off into his own deep sleep.
Tonight there were no dreams but just soft words of love and whispers of forever.
… … …
“…In the latest news, Park Yoochun, or more widely known as famous Korean pop artist, Micky, has come from his long hiatus with a new ballad, something new and different from the company he works for. Unlike his usual songs about love and loss, set to catchy pop beats, this one is more pure. As if Micky was singing this for someone other than fans and money. The emotions captured in it are quite real and it leaves everyone questioning who the song could be about. When asked about the inspiration behind the song, the singer would just smile, not saying a word, but rumor has it that it is about the sick fan that had stayed with him for a week. No one is sure if there were any romantic relations between the two, and his rep refuses to disclose us any information, but many have said to have spotted the two around the city during that one week, laughing and holding hands. The boy was said to have died on November the twenty-sixth, in the hospital in downtown Seoul, where Micky was said to have been present along with famous rock duo Jung Yunho and Kim Jaejoong…”
“…This is Seoul’s number one radio station where we play nothing but the best. Here is the number one hit single by the famous singer, Micky, coming from his hiatus to bring to us a beautiful ballad composed solely by him. Off his new album, Picture of You, in stores January the sixteen, here it is. Unforgettable.”
“‘You had a hard time in my embrace
And it's not until after I've let you go
Can I think and see clearly.
But I love you everyday
I'm still waiting for you like I've always done
See you once again, my love’”
...THE END...
Authoress's Note(s): It's not done yet... I still have another ending to write, but I hope everyone still enjoyed this one... And take it as you want to--Chun could have died by the tombstone, maybe he just fell asleep... in my personal opinion... well, I dunno what happened. I was being... emotional~ *sighs and goes to sit in her emo!Chun corner* Hope you like, comments are appreciated, and I'd like to know if you still want the alt. ending~ Thank you! Let me know if you're still here!!!
To Alt. Ending