remnants ( myungsoo x sungjong, g) epilogue
original
*
It has been a month since Myungsoo moved the last of his things out of the apartment. He left behind various things, from his duvet to his favourite cup that he knew Sungjong liked to drink out of, odd bottles of medicine he no longer needed to an old tube of BB cream he’d forgotten to use; he’d taken his other things, such as his TV and his towels and his bag full of camera lenses.
Almost two years after Sungjong finished college and got his own full-time job, they agreed to split on mutual terms and live separately, so Myungsoo gathered his things and moved in with his younger brother, while Sungjong planned to stay in the apartment until he saved enough money to move to Busan. Their relationship was scattered, not really a relationship at all because they were both so busy and often didn’t speak to each other for days. Myungsoo was the one to bring it up - over a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows, ironically - which at first Sungjong was defensive about, but they agreed, for the sake of their individual lives, that they both deserved some time alone without the pressure of a relationship to uphold.
Still.
It never stopps hurting Sungjong when he comes home from work and the apartment is cold, empty and dead inside. The only sign of life are his own - his breakfast, his unmade bed, condensation on shower tiles - and he had since taken down that ugly clock in the kitchen, making everything even more silent. Sungjong certainly felt lonely in the last two years of his relationship (it was both of their faults, they should’ve seen it coming), but not as lonely as he feels now, completely alone for the first time in years.
He is doing okay without Myungsoo. Just enough.
He doesn’t like going grocery shopping, cleaning the apartment or doing laundry because those are the things they always did together. Towards the end of the relationship, they started doing less and less and arguing more and more, but despite the hardships, he misses Myungsoo. He misses his clothes lying around, he misses the nights they would order take-out and watch a movie instead of doing chores, he misses morning sex on their rare mutual days off. Everything.
Sungjong sighs, dropping his bag on the floor by the kitchen, and falls onto the couch, drawing his knees up to his chest. He sniffles, his eyes suddenly wet with unshed tears, but he blinks them away.
If he could go back, start work at a different place, spend more time together with Myungsoo before it was too late, he definitely would. He would do it in a heartbeat.
He pours himself a shot of soju and gulps it down, cringing at the strong taste. It’s been a while since he resorted to alcohol to make himself feel better but tonight calls for it. Tonight is the anniversary of signing the contract to move into this apartment - Sungjong was always better at remembering dates more than Myungsoo - and tonight, more than any other night, he needs this. He needs to feel.
It’s not a wise decision to dig out the box of notes Myungsoo used to leave on the fridge before his exams from the bottom drawer of his wardrobe, but he blinks away another set of unshed tears, and takes it to the living room. It’s also not a wise decision to find Myungsoo’s hoodie that he gave to Sungjong when they first moved in and wear it, but he does it anyway. He brings several other bottles of soju to the coffee table and sits on the floor in front of it. There’s no TV anymore because it was the last of Myungsoo’s things to leave with him, and Sungjong honestly didn’t feel like buying another.
He reads the first note, written only a few months earlier when Sungjong was going for his driving test. The next, Sungjong’s birthday the year before. After that, Sungjong’s graduation ceremony and first job interview. All significant events in his life, all events that happened with Myungsoo.
A tear rolls down his cheek, hits the paper with a small splash and slightly blurs the ink, but Sungjong doesn’t stop it. He’s learned not to be dependent, and he likes to think of himself as such; he’s learned not to romanticise the good points of their relationship and ignore the downfalls; and he’s learned not to dwell on the past, instead becoming forward-thinking. But nothing, nothing at all, could have prepared him for how he feels right now, and even taking a glance at the seat next to him on the sofa, he is reminded of Myungsoo falling asleep with his head on his lap, of play fights and tickle fests resulting in endless giggles, of spilled drinks and unidentifiable stains.
He cries, sobbing quietly with the notes scattered on the floor below him, taking another painful shot of soju, and another straight after.
It’s a really bad decision to call Myungsoo, especially at 2am when he’s tipsy and emotional and angry, but he does it anyway, letting out another sob when he hears him answer in a low, sleepy voice.
He sniffs, “…Myungsoo?”
His voice on the end is calming and it immediately lessens his tears and quietens his sobs.
“What’s wrong?” He answers, “Are you crying?”
Sungjong nods even though he knows he can’t be seen, “I said I wouldn’t call you…I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I really needed to hear your voice,” Sungjong says in a shaky whisper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Myungsoo shushes him, “It’s okay.”
“I’m kind of drunk and I…I found the notes you used to write and I read them all. I’m sorry.” Sungjong sobs again, another fresh set of tears wetting his cheeks.
Myungsoo sighs, but not in annoyance. Something akin to sympathy, maybe? Or pity.
“Try to get some sleep, Sungjong. You have work tomorrow. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” Myungsoo’s voice is affectionate and quiet, and Sungjong imagines closing his eyes and opening them and Myungsoo will be there in front of him, and it will be just a dream.
Sungjong knows that Myungsoo is right; he is most of the time. Myungsoo always had Sungjong’s best interests at heart, which is why he always made Sungjong go to sleep properly during his finals. “Hyung,” he says. He hasn’t called him hyung for a while. “Hyung, I miss you.”
Myungsoo doesn’t answer for a few seconds, but then Sungjong hears him say a quiet “I miss you too” before he hangs up, clears away the notes and throws the empty soju bottles in the trash. He falls asleep, eventually, and in the morning, skips work so he can finally get rid of the remnants of Myungsoo from the apartment that he left behind.
One day at a time, he tells himself, one day at a time.
*
It has been a month since Myungsoo moved the last of his things out of the apartment. He left behind various things, from his duvet to his favourite cup that he knew Sungjong liked to drink out of, odd bottles of medicine he no longer needed to an old tube of BB cream he’d forgotten to use; he’d taken his other things, such as his TV and his towels and his bag full of camera lenses.
Almost two years after Sungjong finished college and got his own full-time job, they agreed to split on mutual terms and live separately, so Myungsoo gathered his things and moved in with his younger brother, while Sungjong planned to stay in the apartment until he saved enough money to move to Busan. Their relationship was scattered, not really a relationship at all because they were both so busy and often didn’t speak to each other for days. Myungsoo was the one to bring it up - over a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows, ironically - which at first Sungjong was defensive about, but they agreed, for the sake of their individual lives, that they both deserved some time alone without the pressure of a relationship to uphold.
Still.
It never stopps hurting Sungjong when he comes home from work and the apartment is cold, empty and dead inside. The only sign of life are his own - his breakfast, his unmade bed, condensation on shower tiles - and he had since taken down that ugly clock in the kitchen, making everything even more silent. Sungjong certainly felt lonely in the last two years of his relationship (it was both of their faults, they should’ve seen it coming), but not as lonely as he feels now, completely alone for the first time in years.
He is doing okay without Myungsoo. Just enough.
He doesn’t like going grocery shopping, cleaning the apartment or doing laundry because those are the things they always did together. Towards the end of the relationship, they started doing less and less and arguing more and more, but despite the hardships, he misses Myungsoo. He misses his clothes lying around, he misses the nights they would order take-out and watch a movie instead of doing chores, he misses morning sex on their rare mutual days off. Everything.
Sungjong sighs, dropping his bag on the floor by the kitchen, and falls onto the couch, drawing his knees up to his chest. He sniffles, his eyes suddenly wet with unshed tears, but he blinks them away.
If he could go back, start work at a different place, spend more time together with Myungsoo before it was too late, he definitely would. He would do it in a heartbeat.
He pours himself a shot of soju and gulps it down, cringing at the strong taste. It’s been a while since he resorted to alcohol to make himself feel better but tonight calls for it. Tonight is the anniversary of signing the contract to move into this apartment - Sungjong was always better at remembering dates more than Myungsoo - and tonight, more than any other night, he needs this. He needs to feel.
It’s not a wise decision to dig out the box of notes Myungsoo used to leave on the fridge before his exams from the bottom drawer of his wardrobe, but he blinks away another set of unshed tears, and takes it to the living room. It’s also not a wise decision to find Myungsoo’s hoodie that he gave to Sungjong when they first moved in and wear it, but he does it anyway. He brings several other bottles of soju to the coffee table and sits on the floor in front of it. There’s no TV anymore because it was the last of Myungsoo’s things to leave with him, and Sungjong honestly didn’t feel like buying another.
He reads the first note, written only a few months earlier when Sungjong was going for his driving test. The next, Sungjong’s birthday the year before. After that, Sungjong’s graduation ceremony and first job interview. All significant events in his life, all events that happened with Myungsoo.
A tear rolls down his cheek, hits the paper with a small splash and slightly blurs the ink, but Sungjong doesn’t stop it. He’s learned not to be dependent, and he likes to think of himself as such; he’s learned not to romanticise the good points of their relationship and ignore the downfalls; and he’s learned not to dwell on the past, instead becoming forward-thinking. But nothing, nothing at all, could have prepared him for how he feels right now, and even taking a glance at the seat next to him on the sofa, he is reminded of Myungsoo falling asleep with his head on his lap, of play fights and tickle fests resulting in endless giggles, of spilled drinks and unidentifiable stains.
He cries, sobbing quietly with the notes scattered on the floor below him, taking another painful shot of soju, and another straight after.
It’s a really bad decision to call Myungsoo, especially at 2am when he’s tipsy and emotional and angry, but he does it anyway, letting out another sob when he hears him answer in a low, sleepy voice.
He sniffs, “…Myungsoo?”
His voice on the end is calming and it immediately lessens his tears and quietens his sobs.
“What’s wrong?” He answers, “Are you crying?”
Sungjong nods even though he knows he can’t be seen, “I said I wouldn’t call you…I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I really needed to hear your voice,” Sungjong says in a shaky whisper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Myungsoo shushes him, “It’s okay.”
“I’m kind of drunk and I…I found the notes you used to write and I read them all. I’m sorry.” Sungjong sobs again, another fresh set of tears wetting his cheeks.
Myungsoo sighs, but not in annoyance. Something akin to sympathy, maybe? Or pity.
“Try to get some sleep, Sungjong. You have work tomorrow. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” Myungsoo’s voice is affectionate and quiet, and Sungjong imagines closing his eyes and opening them and Myungsoo will be there in front of him, and it will be just a dream.
Sungjong knows that Myungsoo is right; he is most of the time. Myungsoo always had Sungjong’s best interests at heart, which is why he always made Sungjong go to sleep properly during his finals. “Hyung,” he says. He hasn’t called him hyung for a while. “Hyung, I miss you.”
Myungsoo doesn’t answer for a few seconds, but then Sungjong hears him say a quiet “I miss you too” before he hangs up, clears away the notes and throws the empty soju bottles in the trash. He falls asleep, eventually, and in the morning, skips work so he can finally get rid of the remnants of Myungsoo from the apartment that he left behind.
One day at a time, he tells himself, one day at a time.