Sanctuary [4/5]
Title: sanctuary
# of chapters: 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )
Word Count: 24, 045
Pairing: ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan
Bands: EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)
Rating: PG
Warning: character death | mention pf suicide
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.
Summary: The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection - words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.
A/N: cross-posted on AFF
<<
Chapter IV-2 (Final): Obnoxious
A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.
- Oscar Wilde
2013.11.27 Wednesday Seoul, South Korea
Woken up by a smell of burnt pancakes and a familiar voice booming through every nerve in his eardrum, Chanyeol groggily shot up from his surprisingly empty bed and ran towards the kitchen. There was Kyungsoo, with a Jongin - looking almost exactly like he did, still in pajamas, soul still in dreamland - and a Jongdae frowning at everything, muttering something like “It’s six o’clock in the morning. Why do I have fuckers for friends?”, in tow. His eyes slowly wandered around the kitchen, grimace starting to creep up his sleepy self as he looked at the fire extinguisher Youngwoon gave them for Christmas, sitting right beside a grinning Sehun with a burnt apron wrapped around his waist.
“What the fuck?” Deep, raspy voice echoed in the kitchen.
“Well good morning to you too.” Sehun turned to him. “I made you breakfast”
Chanyeol wanted to run. A stack of what looked a lot like flat coals with butter on top and soaked in some sort of sticky syrup appeared under his nose, making him choke as the smell of burnt breakfast assaulted his senses. His nose scrunched as he tried his hardest not to run into the bathroom and barf whatever he ate the night before out in the toilet. It was very hard, especially with a snickering Jongin that for some reason managed to find some solace under the table, lying down as he held onto Kyungsoo’s ankle like it was his lifeline. Why do I have fucker for friends? Jongdae’s silent mutterings started playing inside his head, creating some sort of a taunting chant he wished would make the poisonous thing in front of him disappear and he was more than thankful when it did and was replaced by a pair of soft lips pressed on his, followed by grunts from across the kitchen.
“That’s your breakfast. Since Kyungsoo-hyung said the pancakes I made are probably not edible-”
“I bet.” There was a side comment, quickly followed by Sehun, flinging a burnt pancake across the kitchen - landing exactly on Jongdae’s face. “Fucking hell.” The elder muttered as he ran to the bathroom, probably to throw up and clean up the syrup stuck on his face.
“Continue.” Chanyeol smiled as he placed another peck on the smirking lips in front of him. “Also why are we having this meeting?” His eyes went to Kyungsoo, who was busy trying to pry his ankle off Jongin’s grip.
“Well, let’s just say that your boyfriend is a very excellent chef and decided to roast the whole kitchen - which he would be banned in, by the way, until he gets to fix everything he broke.” Kyungsoo just shook his head. “Seriously, I really don’t know what am I gonna with you two.” With that, the younger left, dragging Jongin - literally - who still refused to let go of his boyfriend’s ankle.
“Five thousand won and Kyungsoo will kick Jongin’s face before they even reach the elevators.”
“Ten thousand won. Kyungsoo-hyung will throw Jongin off the stairwell and use the elevator to go to the next level just to wait for Jongin and kick him in the groin.”
“Call.”
“Call.”
A deal sealed with a kiss. A little too cliché yet both didn’t mind. Shared by two wandering hearts, unconsciously beating as one, who would mind? Shared by two wandering souls that found serenity in each other’s arms, why would they mind? Fireworks at fifteen minutes past six o’clock in the morning wasn’t part of the cliché yet the fluttering of wings inside collided bodies, as hands wandered slowly, caressing an expanse of pale skin and curly, dark brown locks was lingering through every fiber of their being. Caramel brown eyes, fixed on a pair crescent shaped ones as they both grasped for air - lips swollen - speaking words of affection.
“I love you.” Three words, embedded by millions of emotions, answered by a bright smile, protruding cheeks, and eyes turning into slits.
“Ugh you guys are gross I swear. I have to deal with this with Kyungsoo and Jongin at out flat and now here too? What the fuck?” Jongdae, looking like a wet baby duckling, emerged from the bathroom only to rush back in again. “Get room!” Elder’s voice hollered, followed by a string of curses and some muffled sounds, something close to throwing up.
“This is our apartment you fucker!”
“Well don’t just go and make out when you have visitors. That shit is gross.”
“Stop bitching and just go to Baekhyun hyung if you’re jealous you don’t have anybody to make out with.”
“Byun Baekhyun? Really?!” Jongdae again, emerged from the bathroom, face smoldered with what looked a lot like constipation and dysmenorrhea. “You’re fucking disgusting Oh Sehun.”
“Thank you.”
“Fuck you.”
“I have Chanyeol for that.” A smirk.
“Oh my God. Whatever. Goodbye. I hope I never see you two again. Tell Kyungsoo I’m going to Joonmyeon’s. At least his place his normal.”
Chanyeol just chuckled as he watched the door close behind Jongdae. Chanyeol just chuckled as he thought about how his life was almost perfect. Chanyeol just chuckled as he wrapped his arms around thin waist, drawing random patterns on the hip bone as he pulled the boy closer. Chanyeol just chuckled as Kyungsoo’s words echoed inside his head - boyfriend.
He remembered reading on the internet about how perfection was just an idea. That perfection could be defined by however the way people wanted to look at it, that every person had their own version of perfection. And Chanyeol suddenly thought maybe, just maybe, that this was his version of perfection. It took a lot of tears, courage, and heartaches yet Chanyeol thought everything was worth it. He had everything he was dreaming of. Chanyeol thought everything was perfect.
Yet dreams end once the dreamer wakes up, and perfection was just an idea.
Four thirty seven o’clock in the afternoon. Chanyeol woke up from his nap, surprised to find the other side of his full sized bed empty. There was no blush pink hair tangled in his fingers. There was no scrawny, pale, body in his arms. There was no Oh Sehun beside him. Instead, there was a bright orange sticky note stuck on his forehead.
“Had to go out real quick. Be back for dinner. xoxo ♥ ♥.”
Chanyeol felt like giggling like a school girl. He was about to get up when he felt something vibrating under his pillow, more like Sehun’s pillow since he somehow managed to use up the whole bed. Sehun’s white, mobile phone somehow ended in his hands as his fingers did some sort of tango and some ballet over the screen - contemplating if he should mess with the younger’s phone. He knew Sehun’s phone passcode by heart.
“Don’t use your birthday. You know our friends they can all guess that.”
“Yeah, yeah. Can I use yours then?”
“Too obvious.”
“How about this?” Chanyeol’s heart stopped as a smirk slowly crept up Sehun’s lips.
“How- You still-“
“Of course. Why? You already forgot?”
“How would I? I cut my finger trying to carve that on a tree.”
Two kids, one ten year old and the other one eleven - both wandering, looking for some comfort they couldn’t find at their own home. Two boys that found happiness in the company of one another decided that they should carve their names on the tallest Japanese red pine tree in their secret hideaway to preserve their friendship they both swore would last forever. The elder, with awkward long legs, round eyes, and loud voice decided that maybe they should include the date of when they first met.
“July 28 2003. They day we first met.”
Chanyeol punched in the numbers and the white phone stopped vibrating. It was a reminder. Call Pororo Hyung. Ask to make dinner. It made him laugh. Sehun had been weirdly, organized that day - scheduling everything from breakfast to everything else. The nap they both took wasn’t really part of Sehun’s plans but he managed to convince the younger when promised it would only take a few minutes. He was about to put the phone in his bedside drawer if the text messages that were flashing on the screen didn’t catch his attention.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:17pm]: Sehun-ah. Luhan ge’s at the emergency room. The hospital called me. I’m all the way in Qingdao. I don’t think I can go back until tomorrow. I know it’s too much to ask but can you please check up on his for me?
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:18pm]: Where’s Kris?
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:18pm]: Long story. It’s not my place to tell you.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:20pm]: Please? Sehun-ah?
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:22pm]: I’ll buy you a year supply of bubble tea.
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:27pm]: Make that a year and a half. Plus free lunch once a week.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:27pm]: Do you think I shit money?
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:28pm]: Going once.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:28pm]: I’m broke.
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:28pm]: Going twice.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:29pm]: Fuck it! Deal! Just make sure he’s fine. Okay?
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:29pm]: Thank you. I know this is not easy for you. Chanyeol will probably not like it.
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:31pm]: He doesn’t have to know. I’m leaving now.
Park Chanyeol didn’t really have any idea how or why but he just found himself walking down a very busy hallway, plain white walls, air stale and smelled like antiseptics. There were people walking around, some in white coats, some in hospital gowns, and some in regular clothes. Park Chanyeol didn’t really have any idea how or why but he just found himself asking the lady, in white dress, behind the counter in one of the nurses’ station for bed number of a boy named Luhan.
“Mr. Luhan is in bed 21. It should be down this hall and to your right.” The lady smiled at him, as she pointed to the white washed hallway in front of him.
“Thank you.” He muttered, smiling, yet eyes wavering from nervous to doubt.
Chanyeol took the path the lady told him too. It was too bright and too long yet he silently wished that it was longer when he his eyes quickly widened as tears streamed down his cheeks. Fireworks at fifteen minutes past six o’clock in the morning, and fluttering wings must have been really too cliché for him. Perfection maybe really was just an idea. Maybe perfection really didn’t exist. Japanese red pine trees could probably last forever but not the words and numbers carved on their trunks. Dreams really did end once the dreamer woke up.
Sehun’s lips were pressed on Luhan’s.
“Dean Park. I’m taking the scholarship.”
“Okay? I thought you didn’t want it. Why the sudden change of heart? Something happened Chanyeol-ssi?”
“Unexpected things can change unyielding decisions.”
“That’s deep. Also, call me Leeteuk.” A chuckle was heard from the other line. “I already got your a plane ticket to Paris a long time ago. You can leave anytime you want. ”
“I want to leave tonight if possible.”
“Okay. Are you packed? I’ll pick you up at 7.”
“Thank you.”
On the way out of the hospital, the gift shop looked a little to interesting. There were stuffed toys, lots of them, jewelries, bags, candies, even ice creams. Chanyeol left with a stack of blue sticky notes two red sharpies, and a recipe book.
“Flight AP4MSI to Paris, France.”
Chanyeol looked the plane ticket in hand, eyes lingering on the date written on the far left corner of the sheet.
2013.11.27
“Happy birthday Chanyeol-ah! I miss you!” Says the text his sister just sent him before he decided to leave his mobile phone, along with Sehun’s, on the kitchen counter right on top of the recipe book he got.
“Learn how to cook.” The letters were big, and red on the blue sticky note.
He started chuckling as tears freely rolled down his cheeks once more, memories about a certain promise made a long time ago stabbing his whole being.
“Promise me.”
“Yeah?”
“On my next birthdays, we will celebrate it together. All of them.”
“I promise.”
Chanyeol really wasn’t sure who to blame for the broken promise. Was it him? Or was it the boy he once dreamt of perfection about? Would it be worth it to blame? To get mad? To hate? He wanted to do both yet he couldn’t seem to feel anything. It was just all emptiness, shallow emptiness, graced with untreated wounds and covered up scars slowly creeping up every fiber of his whole being.
“Flight AP4MSI to Paris, France.”
A love sick puppy’s stupid idea of romance really was pathetic. Perfection really didn’t exist. Dreamers did wake up. Everything was just a ploy that fate decided to play on him. All that left was emptiness, nothing else.
*****
2017.05.30 Tuesday Seoul, South Korea
It was that time of the year when Chanyeol couldn’t distinguish if it was still spring or was it already summer. The sun was too hot yet the wind was too chilly. Cherry blossoms were still blooming yet hyacinths were starting to wither. It hasn’t even been a week since he got back to Korea but it almost felt like his life had once again, turned upside down. Cars slowly stuck in traffic as rush hour hit the city; the bus would probably be at least five minutes late.
“Hey. You should hurry.”
Two cups of bubble tea felt cold in his grip - one chocolate one taro - felt a little too heavy as a pair of round eyes grazed over a message sent on his phone. Park Chanyeol started wishing that time would stop ticking, and the world would stop spinning as he sprinted his way towards a familiar path towards that huge building in the middle of Mok-dong, ignoring the sticky liquid spilling on his hands and clothes as he bumped into random passerbys earning him a few curses.
The world suddenly became a little too irrelevant when it had been stated how the universe and time would never stop moving for the sake of one. Pretending that life was like fair with endless paths that would all lead to a paradise was almost like being a mocking bird - imitating sounds that was never theirs. It was like chasing a falcon soaring up the sky without realizing that there was a cliff waiting at the end. The world is cruel and obnoxious - a lesson people should learn always chose to ignore. The universe is like an endless cycle of pretending and ignorance, overlooking the fact that maybe the cycle would end somehow beyond the lather, wash, repeat theorems. Time limits are unavoidable. Endings are inevitable.
“The doctor said I can’t drink bubble tea anymore.” The pout plastered on thin lips all the way across the world was still clear in his mind. Winter in Paris was the worst yet the burning sensation under his eyelids was causing his eyes to water. “He said it’s choking hazard. What am I? Five?”
“No, but you act like one.” Kyungsoo appeared in the corner, a bowl of soup in hand. “I made you kimchi stew. Shut up and eat.”
“But I want bubble tea.” Sehun whined.
“See, I told you. Five years old.” Wide, sad eyes turned to his direction. Without any words spoken, a message of pleading was sent. With just one look, he knew that Kyungsoo was just trying to be strong for all of them. Both of them knew the truth, all of them did.
Time limits are unavoidable. Endings are inevitable.
Jongin stopped talking about dancing. Jongdae and Baekhyun became a little too chirpy, making lame jokes and pranks every five seconds. Joonmyeon would just sit silently in the corner, watching, listening. Minseok would slouch in another corner, smiling silently as he watched an old friend’s eyes turn into slits as the younger laughed along with the others. Yixing dropped by once with a box of cupcakes. Zitao would come every Wednesday, talking endlessly until the wee hours of the night, keeping his friend entertained. Kyungsoo refused to go home yet was always getting dragged by Jongin as Baekhyun quickly grabbed the stack of plates and cups that slowly accumulated on a small table in the four-cornered room. Luhan and Kris would say hi once in a while - shared some awkward whispers and apologetic smiles. Everything seemed so normal yet so different. From the university’s cafeteria, lunch breaks and weekends were spent in a four-cornered room, with an awfully light green painted walls, and air that smelled like antiseptics.
Chanyeol wanted to cry yet Kyungsoo’s eyes were imploring. Please don’t. They said. Jongin’s head shook from the corner as the younger’s eyes wavered from the computer screen towards the pale boy sitting in the middle of a bed, wrapped in a very boring set of white sheets. Please don’t cry. Joonmyeon was sitting in the far corner of the room, watching him intently as he forced a smile. The elder just nodded. Good job.
“Sehun-ah. Listen to Kyungsoo okay?”
I will be strong. I need to be. For the both of us.
Sehun eyes locked on his.
I know you want to cry. I’m sorry.
“Okay.”
The video call ended with Kyungsoo forcing a spoonful of kimchi stew in Sehun’s mouth and Jongin whining about Kyungsoo never fed him like how the elder did Sehun. Joonmyeon just threw a pillow in Jongin’s face before the elder bid good bye to help Minseok close the comic shop. And Chanyeol, trying his hardest not to shed a tear as his eyes traveled towards a small screen right beside the bed - red lines curved up and down along with annoying beeping sounds that would always haunt him in his sleep.
“Hyung I want bubble tea.” Were Sehun’s first words when Chanyeol arrived at the hospital, luggage still in tow.
“Yes. Yes of course. How could I forget?” He chuckled, trying to mask the silent tears slowly trailing down his face. “Should I get you one right now?” baritone voice shaky, as he reached for a familiar mop of brown hair he had long missed. A kiss was placed on pale, white forehead. “I missed you.”
“Not yet. Stay with me for now.” The screen said. Chanyeol’s whole being shivered. “Hyung. I love you. I’ve always did. I will always do.”
It was the first time Oh Sehun told Park Chanyeol that he loved him. Sweet yet heartbreaking. He would rather hear those words from the younger, than reading it from a screen, but who was he to complain?
Sehun lost his ability to speak a few months after he went back to Korea. The doctor said the disease progression was faster than what they could have had predicted. It started with the numbness of limbs, quickly followed by paralysis and inability to speak. The boy started wearing oxygen mask in his sleep that was soon ordered to be worn twenty four seven.
“It would help him breathe but I will not help with the progression of the disease.” The doctor, Cho Kyuhyun, even added before he left the room.
“Sehun-ah.” Chanyeol’s voice dithered as air quickly escaped his lungs.
He discerned he shouldn’t chase falcons when he perfectly knew there was cliff waiting for him in the end yet the labyrinth seemed to be calling out his name - maybe it was the mocking bird, copying the cry of his paradise. Or maybe it was just him, pretending that perfection would still exist beyond all the clichés and nostalgias. Maybe it was the dreamer that refused to impede confusing his dreams from reality. It really was him, silently hoping, praying, wishing, that maybe someday, somehow, his dreams and his idea of perfection would turn into reality.
But it was already given that the world is cruel and obnoxious.
A few pairs of familiar eyes trailed him as he mustered a smile and slowly cracked the door open. Women dressed in white, along with Dr. Cho were running around the small, four-cornered room with awfully light green painted walls and air that smelled like antiseptics. Bright red cart, with drawers was sitting right beside the bed. The haunting beeping of the screen made his head hurt yet it didn’t stop him from walking towards the pale, scrawny figure lying on the bed.
“Sehun-ah. I got your bubble tea. Chocolate. Your favorite.”
Tears fell as a hand tapped his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be here Chanyeol-ssi. Please step outside”
Dr. Cho’s eyes lingered on his.
I will do my best. I will save him. I promise.
There was a nod, followed by silent sob. The labyrinth was slowly falling apart as his dreams and ideas crashed, quickly falling down the cliff. The beeping sound disappeared, replaced by a prolonged monotonous flat piercing sound that pierced his soul.
“Clear!” Dr. Cho’s voice echoed inside his head, as the door closed behind him.
2017.05.30 Tuesday Seoul, South Korea
Park Chanyeol, the dreamer awoke from his dream, lost his idea of perfection and let go of the sight of the falcon. Park Chanyeol, the mocking bird finally surrendered to reality.
>>
# of chapters: 5 ( + prologue and epilogue )
Word Count: 24, 045
Pairing: ChanHun | KaiSoo | HunHan | KrisHan
Bands: EXO (main) | Super Junior (side)
Rating: PG
Warning: character death | mention pf suicide
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.
Summary: The brown, leather bound journal had five hundred pages filled with infinite words of affection that would last for eternity, beyond dreams and perfection - words that would continually become a mocking bird and soar above the horizon, chasing a falcon without caring about the cliff at the end of the labyrinth because yes, mocking birds could also fly.
A/N: cross-posted on AFF
<<
Chapter IV-2 (Final): Obnoxious
A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.
- Oscar Wilde
2013.11.27 Wednesday Seoul, South Korea
Woken up by a smell of burnt pancakes and a familiar voice booming through every nerve in his eardrum, Chanyeol groggily shot up from his surprisingly empty bed and ran towards the kitchen. There was Kyungsoo, with a Jongin - looking almost exactly like he did, still in pajamas, soul still in dreamland - and a Jongdae frowning at everything, muttering something like “It’s six o’clock in the morning. Why do I have fuckers for friends?”, in tow. His eyes slowly wandered around the kitchen, grimace starting to creep up his sleepy self as he looked at the fire extinguisher Youngwoon gave them for Christmas, sitting right beside a grinning Sehun with a burnt apron wrapped around his waist.
“What the fuck?” Deep, raspy voice echoed in the kitchen.
“Well good morning to you too.” Sehun turned to him. “I made you breakfast”
Chanyeol wanted to run. A stack of what looked a lot like flat coals with butter on top and soaked in some sort of sticky syrup appeared under his nose, making him choke as the smell of burnt breakfast assaulted his senses. His nose scrunched as he tried his hardest not to run into the bathroom and barf whatever he ate the night before out in the toilet. It was very hard, especially with a snickering Jongin that for some reason managed to find some solace under the table, lying down as he held onto Kyungsoo’s ankle like it was his lifeline. Why do I have fucker for friends? Jongdae’s silent mutterings started playing inside his head, creating some sort of a taunting chant he wished would make the poisonous thing in front of him disappear and he was more than thankful when it did and was replaced by a pair of soft lips pressed on his, followed by grunts from across the kitchen.
“That’s your breakfast. Since Kyungsoo-hyung said the pancakes I made are probably not edible-”
“I bet.” There was a side comment, quickly followed by Sehun, flinging a burnt pancake across the kitchen - landing exactly on Jongdae’s face. “Fucking hell.” The elder muttered as he ran to the bathroom, probably to throw up and clean up the syrup stuck on his face.
“Continue.” Chanyeol smiled as he placed another peck on the smirking lips in front of him. “Also why are we having this meeting?” His eyes went to Kyungsoo, who was busy trying to pry his ankle off Jongin’s grip.
“Well, let’s just say that your boyfriend is a very excellent chef and decided to roast the whole kitchen - which he would be banned in, by the way, until he gets to fix everything he broke.” Kyungsoo just shook his head. “Seriously, I really don’t know what am I gonna with you two.” With that, the younger left, dragging Jongin - literally - who still refused to let go of his boyfriend’s ankle.
“Five thousand won and Kyungsoo will kick Jongin’s face before they even reach the elevators.”
“Ten thousand won. Kyungsoo-hyung will throw Jongin off the stairwell and use the elevator to go to the next level just to wait for Jongin and kick him in the groin.”
“Call.”
“Call.”
A deal sealed with a kiss. A little too cliché yet both didn’t mind. Shared by two wandering hearts, unconsciously beating as one, who would mind? Shared by two wandering souls that found serenity in each other’s arms, why would they mind? Fireworks at fifteen minutes past six o’clock in the morning wasn’t part of the cliché yet the fluttering of wings inside collided bodies, as hands wandered slowly, caressing an expanse of pale skin and curly, dark brown locks was lingering through every fiber of their being. Caramel brown eyes, fixed on a pair crescent shaped ones as they both grasped for air - lips swollen - speaking words of affection.
“I love you.” Three words, embedded by millions of emotions, answered by a bright smile, protruding cheeks, and eyes turning into slits.
“Ugh you guys are gross I swear. I have to deal with this with Kyungsoo and Jongin at out flat and now here too? What the fuck?” Jongdae, looking like a wet baby duckling, emerged from the bathroom only to rush back in again. “Get room!” Elder’s voice hollered, followed by a string of curses and some muffled sounds, something close to throwing up.
“This is our apartment you fucker!”
“Well don’t just go and make out when you have visitors. That shit is gross.”
“Stop bitching and just go to Baekhyun hyung if you’re jealous you don’t have anybody to make out with.”
“Byun Baekhyun? Really?!” Jongdae again, emerged from the bathroom, face smoldered with what looked a lot like constipation and dysmenorrhea. “You’re fucking disgusting Oh Sehun.”
“Thank you.”
“Fuck you.”
“I have Chanyeol for that.” A smirk.
“Oh my God. Whatever. Goodbye. I hope I never see you two again. Tell Kyungsoo I’m going to Joonmyeon’s. At least his place his normal.”
Chanyeol just chuckled as he watched the door close behind Jongdae. Chanyeol just chuckled as he thought about how his life was almost perfect. Chanyeol just chuckled as he wrapped his arms around thin waist, drawing random patterns on the hip bone as he pulled the boy closer. Chanyeol just chuckled as Kyungsoo’s words echoed inside his head - boyfriend.
He remembered reading on the internet about how perfection was just an idea. That perfection could be defined by however the way people wanted to look at it, that every person had their own version of perfection. And Chanyeol suddenly thought maybe, just maybe, that this was his version of perfection. It took a lot of tears, courage, and heartaches yet Chanyeol thought everything was worth it. He had everything he was dreaming of. Chanyeol thought everything was perfect.
Yet dreams end once the dreamer wakes up, and perfection was just an idea.
Four thirty seven o’clock in the afternoon. Chanyeol woke up from his nap, surprised to find the other side of his full sized bed empty. There was no blush pink hair tangled in his fingers. There was no scrawny, pale, body in his arms. There was no Oh Sehun beside him. Instead, there was a bright orange sticky note stuck on his forehead.
“Had to go out real quick. Be back for dinner. xoxo ♥ ♥.”
Chanyeol felt like giggling like a school girl. He was about to get up when he felt something vibrating under his pillow, more like Sehun’s pillow since he somehow managed to use up the whole bed. Sehun’s white, mobile phone somehow ended in his hands as his fingers did some sort of tango and some ballet over the screen - contemplating if he should mess with the younger’s phone. He knew Sehun’s phone passcode by heart.
“Don’t use your birthday. You know our friends they can all guess that.”
“Yeah, yeah. Can I use yours then?”
“Too obvious.”
“How about this?” Chanyeol’s heart stopped as a smirk slowly crept up Sehun’s lips.
“How- You still-“
“Of course. Why? You already forgot?”
“How would I? I cut my finger trying to carve that on a tree.”
Two kids, one ten year old and the other one eleven - both wandering, looking for some comfort they couldn’t find at their own home. Two boys that found happiness in the company of one another decided that they should carve their names on the tallest Japanese red pine tree in their secret hideaway to preserve their friendship they both swore would last forever. The elder, with awkward long legs, round eyes, and loud voice decided that maybe they should include the date of when they first met.
“July 28 2003. They day we first met.”
Chanyeol punched in the numbers and the white phone stopped vibrating. It was a reminder. Call Pororo Hyung. Ask to make dinner. It made him laugh. Sehun had been weirdly, organized that day - scheduling everything from breakfast to everything else. The nap they both took wasn’t really part of Sehun’s plans but he managed to convince the younger when promised it would only take a few minutes. He was about to put the phone in his bedside drawer if the text messages that were flashing on the screen didn’t catch his attention.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:17pm]: Sehun-ah. Luhan ge’s at the emergency room. The hospital called me. I’m all the way in Qingdao. I don’t think I can go back until tomorrow. I know it’s too much to ask but can you please check up on his for me?
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:18pm]: Where’s Kris?
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:18pm]: Long story. It’s not my place to tell you.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:20pm]: Please? Sehun-ah?
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:22pm]: I’ll buy you a year supply of bubble tea.
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:27pm]: Make that a year and a half. Plus free lunch once a week.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:27pm]: Do you think I shit money?
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:28pm]: Going once.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:28pm]: I’m broke.
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:28pm]: Going twice.
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:29pm]: Fuck it! Deal! Just make sure he’s fine. Okay?
Idiot Kung Fu Panda [3:29pm]: Thank you. I know this is not easy for you. Chanyeol will probably not like it.
Handsome Oh Sehun [3:31pm]: He doesn’t have to know. I’m leaving now.
Park Chanyeol didn’t really have any idea how or why but he just found himself walking down a very busy hallway, plain white walls, air stale and smelled like antiseptics. There were people walking around, some in white coats, some in hospital gowns, and some in regular clothes. Park Chanyeol didn’t really have any idea how or why but he just found himself asking the lady, in white dress, behind the counter in one of the nurses’ station for bed number of a boy named Luhan.
“Mr. Luhan is in bed 21. It should be down this hall and to your right.” The lady smiled at him, as she pointed to the white washed hallway in front of him.
“Thank you.” He muttered, smiling, yet eyes wavering from nervous to doubt.
Chanyeol took the path the lady told him too. It was too bright and too long yet he silently wished that it was longer when he his eyes quickly widened as tears streamed down his cheeks. Fireworks at fifteen minutes past six o’clock in the morning, and fluttering wings must have been really too cliché for him. Perfection maybe really was just an idea. Maybe perfection really didn’t exist. Japanese red pine trees could probably last forever but not the words and numbers carved on their trunks. Dreams really did end once the dreamer woke up.
Sehun’s lips were pressed on Luhan’s.
“Dean Park. I’m taking the scholarship.”
“Okay? I thought you didn’t want it. Why the sudden change of heart? Something happened Chanyeol-ssi?”
“Unexpected things can change unyielding decisions.”
“That’s deep. Also, call me Leeteuk.” A chuckle was heard from the other line. “I already got your a plane ticket to Paris a long time ago. You can leave anytime you want. ”
“I want to leave tonight if possible.”
“Okay. Are you packed? I’ll pick you up at 7.”
“Thank you.”
On the way out of the hospital, the gift shop looked a little to interesting. There were stuffed toys, lots of them, jewelries, bags, candies, even ice creams. Chanyeol left with a stack of blue sticky notes two red sharpies, and a recipe book.
“Flight AP4MSI to Paris, France.”
Chanyeol looked the plane ticket in hand, eyes lingering on the date written on the far left corner of the sheet.
2013.11.27
“Happy birthday Chanyeol-ah! I miss you!” Says the text his sister just sent him before he decided to leave his mobile phone, along with Sehun’s, on the kitchen counter right on top of the recipe book he got.
“Learn how to cook.” The letters were big, and red on the blue sticky note.
He started chuckling as tears freely rolled down his cheeks once more, memories about a certain promise made a long time ago stabbing his whole being.
“Promise me.”
“Yeah?”
“On my next birthdays, we will celebrate it together. All of them.”
“I promise.”
Chanyeol really wasn’t sure who to blame for the broken promise. Was it him? Or was it the boy he once dreamt of perfection about? Would it be worth it to blame? To get mad? To hate? He wanted to do both yet he couldn’t seem to feel anything. It was just all emptiness, shallow emptiness, graced with untreated wounds and covered up scars slowly creeping up every fiber of his whole being.
“Flight AP4MSI to Paris, France.”
A love sick puppy’s stupid idea of romance really was pathetic. Perfection really didn’t exist. Dreamers did wake up. Everything was just a ploy that fate decided to play on him. All that left was emptiness, nothing else.
*****
2017.05.30 Tuesday Seoul, South Korea
It was that time of the year when Chanyeol couldn’t distinguish if it was still spring or was it already summer. The sun was too hot yet the wind was too chilly. Cherry blossoms were still blooming yet hyacinths were starting to wither. It hasn’t even been a week since he got back to Korea but it almost felt like his life had once again, turned upside down. Cars slowly stuck in traffic as rush hour hit the city; the bus would probably be at least five minutes late.
“Hey. You should hurry.”
Two cups of bubble tea felt cold in his grip - one chocolate one taro - felt a little too heavy as a pair of round eyes grazed over a message sent on his phone. Park Chanyeol started wishing that time would stop ticking, and the world would stop spinning as he sprinted his way towards a familiar path towards that huge building in the middle of Mok-dong, ignoring the sticky liquid spilling on his hands and clothes as he bumped into random passerbys earning him a few curses.
The world suddenly became a little too irrelevant when it had been stated how the universe and time would never stop moving for the sake of one. Pretending that life was like fair with endless paths that would all lead to a paradise was almost like being a mocking bird - imitating sounds that was never theirs. It was like chasing a falcon soaring up the sky without realizing that there was a cliff waiting at the end. The world is cruel and obnoxious - a lesson people should learn always chose to ignore. The universe is like an endless cycle of pretending and ignorance, overlooking the fact that maybe the cycle would end somehow beyond the lather, wash, repeat theorems. Time limits are unavoidable. Endings are inevitable.
“The doctor said I can’t drink bubble tea anymore.” The pout plastered on thin lips all the way across the world was still clear in his mind. Winter in Paris was the worst yet the burning sensation under his eyelids was causing his eyes to water. “He said it’s choking hazard. What am I? Five?”
“No, but you act like one.” Kyungsoo appeared in the corner, a bowl of soup in hand. “I made you kimchi stew. Shut up and eat.”
“But I want bubble tea.” Sehun whined.
“See, I told you. Five years old.” Wide, sad eyes turned to his direction. Without any words spoken, a message of pleading was sent. With just one look, he knew that Kyungsoo was just trying to be strong for all of them. Both of them knew the truth, all of them did.
Time limits are unavoidable. Endings are inevitable.
Jongin stopped talking about dancing. Jongdae and Baekhyun became a little too chirpy, making lame jokes and pranks every five seconds. Joonmyeon would just sit silently in the corner, watching, listening. Minseok would slouch in another corner, smiling silently as he watched an old friend’s eyes turn into slits as the younger laughed along with the others. Yixing dropped by once with a box of cupcakes. Zitao would come every Wednesday, talking endlessly until the wee hours of the night, keeping his friend entertained. Kyungsoo refused to go home yet was always getting dragged by Jongin as Baekhyun quickly grabbed the stack of plates and cups that slowly accumulated on a small table in the four-cornered room. Luhan and Kris would say hi once in a while - shared some awkward whispers and apologetic smiles. Everything seemed so normal yet so different. From the university’s cafeteria, lunch breaks and weekends were spent in a four-cornered room, with an awfully light green painted walls, and air that smelled like antiseptics.
Chanyeol wanted to cry yet Kyungsoo’s eyes were imploring. Please don’t. They said. Jongin’s head shook from the corner as the younger’s eyes wavered from the computer screen towards the pale boy sitting in the middle of a bed, wrapped in a very boring set of white sheets. Please don’t cry. Joonmyeon was sitting in the far corner of the room, watching him intently as he forced a smile. The elder just nodded. Good job.
“Sehun-ah. Listen to Kyungsoo okay?”
I will be strong. I need to be. For the both of us.
Sehun eyes locked on his.
I know you want to cry. I’m sorry.
“Okay.”
The video call ended with Kyungsoo forcing a spoonful of kimchi stew in Sehun’s mouth and Jongin whining about Kyungsoo never fed him like how the elder did Sehun. Joonmyeon just threw a pillow in Jongin’s face before the elder bid good bye to help Minseok close the comic shop. And Chanyeol, trying his hardest not to shed a tear as his eyes traveled towards a small screen right beside the bed - red lines curved up and down along with annoying beeping sounds that would always haunt him in his sleep.
“Hyung I want bubble tea.” Were Sehun’s first words when Chanyeol arrived at the hospital, luggage still in tow.
“Yes. Yes of course. How could I forget?” He chuckled, trying to mask the silent tears slowly trailing down his face. “Should I get you one right now?” baritone voice shaky, as he reached for a familiar mop of brown hair he had long missed. A kiss was placed on pale, white forehead. “I missed you.”
“Not yet. Stay with me for now.” The screen said. Chanyeol’s whole being shivered. “Hyung. I love you. I’ve always did. I will always do.”
It was the first time Oh Sehun told Park Chanyeol that he loved him. Sweet yet heartbreaking. He would rather hear those words from the younger, than reading it from a screen, but who was he to complain?
Sehun lost his ability to speak a few months after he went back to Korea. The doctor said the disease progression was faster than what they could have had predicted. It started with the numbness of limbs, quickly followed by paralysis and inability to speak. The boy started wearing oxygen mask in his sleep that was soon ordered to be worn twenty four seven.
“It would help him breathe but I will not help with the progression of the disease.” The doctor, Cho Kyuhyun, even added before he left the room.
“Sehun-ah.” Chanyeol’s voice dithered as air quickly escaped his lungs.
He discerned he shouldn’t chase falcons when he perfectly knew there was cliff waiting for him in the end yet the labyrinth seemed to be calling out his name - maybe it was the mocking bird, copying the cry of his paradise. Or maybe it was just him, pretending that perfection would still exist beyond all the clichés and nostalgias. Maybe it was the dreamer that refused to impede confusing his dreams from reality. It really was him, silently hoping, praying, wishing, that maybe someday, somehow, his dreams and his idea of perfection would turn into reality.
But it was already given that the world is cruel and obnoxious.
A few pairs of familiar eyes trailed him as he mustered a smile and slowly cracked the door open. Women dressed in white, along with Dr. Cho were running around the small, four-cornered room with awfully light green painted walls and air that smelled like antiseptics. Bright red cart, with drawers was sitting right beside the bed. The haunting beeping of the screen made his head hurt yet it didn’t stop him from walking towards the pale, scrawny figure lying on the bed.
“Sehun-ah. I got your bubble tea. Chocolate. Your favorite.”
Tears fell as a hand tapped his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be here Chanyeol-ssi. Please step outside”
Dr. Cho’s eyes lingered on his.
I will do my best. I will save him. I promise.
There was a nod, followed by silent sob. The labyrinth was slowly falling apart as his dreams and ideas crashed, quickly falling down the cliff. The beeping sound disappeared, replaced by a prolonged monotonous flat piercing sound that pierced his soul.
“Clear!” Dr. Cho’s voice echoed inside his head, as the door closed behind him.
2017.05.30 Tuesday Seoul, South Korea
Park Chanyeol, the dreamer awoke from his dream, lost his idea of perfection and let go of the sight of the falcon. Park Chanyeol, the mocking bird finally surrendered to reality.
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