Every Good Thing
Summary: Jaejoong travels around the country to search for ‘a good thing’. He meets a genie on the way.
Every Good Thing
He once believed, that
every good thing
is too good to be true
-
Jaejoong often wondered why happiness seemed to declare a permanent war against him.
It had been like that since he could remember. No, he didn’t lead a pitiful childhood life inside a carton-box house. In fact, he was born with silver spoon in his mouth, being the only son of a wealthy governor in the entire city. His mother died when he was really young and his father got married with a high-ranked courtesan. Both of them soon got entangled in scandals with their own secret lover, making young Jaejoong wonder why they bothered to get married in the first place.
Young Jaejoong wasn’t exactly sad about these conditions. It was more of bland, like he didn’t know what proper emotion he should feel in certain situations. His real mother was dead before he could even call her ‘Umma’, thus he couldn’t remember anything about her enough to be saddened by it. His father was a person who thought that money solved everything-which in most occasions was true-so he didn’t really expect any form of warmth given from the man. His step mother was too busy chalking her face and painting her lips, and while he was thankful that she wasn’t some kind of Cinderella’s stepmother, he wasn’t exactly happy either.
Jaejoong tried to ‘look at things from the bright side’ and be thankful that he didn’t live in poverty at the very least, but in the end, he fathomed that an empty life was much, much worse than tearful social-moral theatres he watched once in a while to kill time.
There was a saying that if you never feel sad then you won’t know how happy feels like and vice versa. Perhaps it had something to do with his antisocial trait. He never built any relationship with both guys and girls, being schooled at home with teachers came thrice a week cut quite a lot of chance to socialize and interact. The mountain of silk hanbok and priced jewels in his wardrobe never looked shiny because he never saw anything less than it. A bad happening didn’t feel saddening because he never experienced anything truly good in his life, and vice versa.
His plain life turned upside down, however, on one evening of his 20th birthday. It was a rare occasion when his parents and he sat together for dinner. Perhaps the maids were too hectic over cooking the best meals (his father and stepmother rarely dined in at home; when they did, they demanded much), but soon a something exploded and burned the whole house. Taking down his parents’ life, the maids’, and half of his face with it.
Falling down to being suddenly parentless and homeless never was a small deal. Having a half-burnt face instead of well-crafted cheekbone he once possessed nearly had him punch every mirror he laid a hand on. There was a wide span of scorch mark on his entire left cheeks, a part of his nose, and down to half of his chin. He was fortunate enough that the fire missed his left eye (barely an inch, but still), else he also had to live a life of half-blind.
Only on that time, he realized what he actually had had. And then lost without proper recognition.
It didn’t help at all that his relatives-who gave him temporary place to sleep in-never looked at him the same way anymore. It was either pity or a degree of disgust; whichever, Jaejoong was aggravated enough to bid goodbye without regret. Thankfully his father left enough money in their family account to last him a year of two. After that, he would need to worry about finding a job and permanent house-and how to do all those with that new, horrific face like his. Strangely enough, while he lost confidence and gained an amount of fright to face the world, he didn’t exactly feel sad.
At least, the tragedy taught him something.
That good thing doesn’t always involve money like what his father believed, nor does it revolve around physical beauty like his stepmother often bragged about. A snap of God’s fingers shattered the superficial glam, and the lack of sadness he felt proved that it wasn’t true happiness. The things his parents deemed ‘good’ were actually not everlasting.
So he decided. He would go to look for an absolute ‘good thing’ that created ‘happiness’. With that ‘happiness’, he would fill the emptiness in his heart and move on.
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
comes with a certain price
-
A black-haired man fixed the aluminum mask he was wearing. It was plain gray, fully covering the left side of his face, leaving only the right side visible. People would look at him strangely as he strolled by the roads, looking at his unveiled rosy lips and one sharp dark eye, wondering what kind of beauty hidden behind the intriguing-looking mask.
They didn’t know what kind of ugly monster lurking from behind the half-faced mask. They didn’t need to.
Freedom wasn’t something Jaejoong was familiar with, thus explaining the weird sensation he felt whenever he woke up in another inn room every morning, drinking different brands of cheap soju and strolling down the roads he didn’t even know existed before. His bundle of backpack was heavy with clothes and money-beside that, he didn’t bring anything else. He explored the lengths and turns of every street he passed by, delved into each market he could find and tasting different kinds of food everyday.
That was him, Kim Jaejoong, the son of a mighty governor, who turned into a homeless backpacker traveler.
He didn’t travel for no reason. He was looking for something, something he knew was precious even though he never really saw it. Whenever he entered a shop, or stopped by a stall, sellers would smile and asked,
“Young man, what are you looking for?”
He would stare at them with his masked left eye and uncovered right one, before answering without hesitation.
“’A good thing’,” he would say, slowly, like savoring the word on his tongue. The visible right side of his face remained emotionless, like a dead doll. “I’m searching for ‘a good thing’ that brings ‘happiness’.”
The sellers would look at him in confusion, smiles faltering, before deciding to ignore his strange choice of words and started blabbering about their products. He would listen intently, at first, before deciding that it was just another superficial thing, not, never was the ‘good thing’ he was looking for. He would leave by then, sometimes buying an item or two, attracting bewildered whispers upon his departure.
It was the sixth month of his journey, the 178th day, when he was attracted into a night festival. Kids were running around, bumping into his long legs without apology. Sellers decorated their stalls with multicolor lamps in hope to attract more purchasers. Jaejoong walked the narrow ways between opposing stalls, eyes swiftly sweeping the available stuffs they sold, hoping to find a potential item to quench his thirst over the unnamed ‘good thing’.
After sitting down for soju and a set of dumplings, he finally caught a stall that attracted his interest. The stall was not crowded; in fact, it looked almost unseen by people who passed by. It was not surprising, Jaejoong thought, what with the black teal tent and closed door. However, there was something about the stall that made his legs swing their way into it.
The inside decoration was creepy to say the least. It was all black, with yellow light shimmering dimly above the masked man’s head. All he could see was a black-clothed table with random items strewn on it. A man with weird ethnic cloak and bone jewelry was sitting behind the said table.
“Young man,” a voice resounded, distracting Jaejoong from his mental review on the stall’s poor decoration and the seller’s equally poor fashion sense. The masked man looked up to meet a pair of surprisingly warm eyes. From the face and voice, Jaejoong noted that the seller himself wasn’t old at all, probably just around late 20. “What are you looking for?”
Raising an eyebrow at the typical question, Jaejoong answered automatically, without thinking or feeling. “’I’m searching for ‘a good thing’. ‘A good thing’ that creates happiness’.”
The dark-eyed man expected confusion to cross the seller’s face, but the weird-clothed young man bobbed his head up and down instead, as if understanding his wish. Jaejoong’s curiousness was picked up even though he didn’t hope much. For this seller to be unfazed by his masked face and weird diction already gained some credits.
“My name is Kim Junsu,” the seller told him, gesturing with his hand for Jaejoong to come closer. “Come here if you believe me.”
Jaejoong obeyed, albeit deliberately. He wasn’t really thinking about belief when he did. Just wanted to know.
“This is a genie lamp from rural Kenya,” Junsu said when his customer was close enough, producing an antique lamp from under the black tablecloth. It looked like the lamp from Aladdin fairy tale Jaejoong heard when he was a kid. “However, the genie will come out only if you’re a person who really needs him. He will grant you only three wishes. If the genie comes out when you rub the lamp, you should choose very carefully. Choose the ‘good thing’ you’re looking for.”
Jaejoong only nodded, and accepted the so-called genie lamp from Junsu. He even paid for it, though he believed it was just another kind of lame tall tell to attract costumers. The lamp wasn’t even expensive, Jaejoong thought as he walked out of the stall. Even if it weren’t real genie lamp, at least the shape is unique enough to add some sparks into his bland life. There was nothing he had to lose.
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
is indeed a superficial thing
-
Having only a backpack as his companion slash multifunctional pouch, it was natural for Jaejoong to sort the contents once in a while and threw away unneeded items. So one week and two days after the night festival, he was surrounded by an ocean of random items on an inn room’s floor, trying to pick which one he should keep and which one he should throw away.
When he said ‘random items’, he really meant random things, like a bag of marinated ladybug chips and a guidebook to build miniature Joseon palace. He threw both items to the pile of ‘unneeded’, sighing at his obvious fail attempt to get a hand on ‘a good thing’. He searched, saw, and bought so many, but still, nothing of those things brought him true ‘happiness’.
The 20 year-old was proceeding to weigh an Arabian belly-dancer doll when his eyes caught something. The old lamp wasn’t even shiny, instead looking poor buried under the articles of clothing, thus explaining why he didn’t notice it earlier.
Jaejoong reached for the neglected lamp-throwing the smiling empty-faced doll in the process-and brought the lamp onto his lap. It was yellow, perhaps initially golden, with strange characters written around the lining of the cap. He remembered faintly what the strange-looking seller told him. Feeling ridiculous but curious enough, he decided to give a try.
Not that he was genuinely interested. He just wanted to try once before throwing it away along with other twenty different items already mounting on the floor.
He rubbed the lamp once, twice.
And waited.
And properly jumped out of his skin when the lamp suddenly exploded with a ringing ‘buzz’, filling the small room with strange flower-smelling smoke.
Faint shape of a man appeared behind the fog, and when the smoke had cleared out enough, Jaejoong was already standing on the corner of his bed with half-empty backpack on tow, ready to strike whatever dubious creature emerging from inside the lamp.
The smoke dissipated quickly enough, and soon the masked man (yes, Jaejoong wore mask, even in the solitude of his inn room) was eye-to-eye with a pair of beautiful, brown, round…… and annoyed-looking eyes.
Jaejoong blinked, backpack dangling uselessly on one hand. The… creature (which was only solid from hip upwards, the body’s lower region was merely transparent smoke connected to the lamp) was a male, if gender applied on this kind of thing. The genie was abating the remnants of smoke with one hand, looking around the inn room in distaste.
“What’s your first wish?” the creature asked curtly, eyes penetrating deep into Jaejoong’s, as if mapping every single line of both his revealed and unrevealed side of face. So contrasting with the nonchalance he imposed on his façade.
“Uh……” Jaejoong mentally chided himself for previously thinking that Aladdin (and genie stories in general) was ridiculous. He could only gape at the young-looking male genie, not knowing what to say. His bland life experiences obviously didn’t teach him what to do when being opposed by an irritated-looking genie.
Who looked much more attractive than Aladdin’s genie, by the way.
“…… what are you?” the dumbfounded backpacker asked after seconds of silence, feeling idiot afterwards.
“A genie, of course,” the creature raised an eyebrow, hands folded before his chest. “Didn’t Junsu tell you before you bought me?”
Jaejoong gulped. “E-err yeah, that weird fashioned seller… I m-mean, J-Junsu-sshi is it? He told me that it is a g-genie lamp, but, well…”
“But you didn’t believe him?” The genie guessed, as if used to this situation.
“Well… not really,” Jaejoong said meekly, backpack crashing onto the bed. Was he to be blamed? He was having the shock of his life, not grievous devastation like his parents’ tragedy, but a wild moment that tilted his reality off balance. “I wasn’t even thinking when I paid…”
The genie scowled. Having ‘genie’ and ‘scowl’ in one sentence already sounded too wrong for Jaejoong’s sanity. “It’s always Junsu’s forte, using dark decoration and husky voice to confuse people….”
“And according to him, I’m your… master?”
“… sort of.”
“He said I can have three wishes,” Jaejoong tentatively stepped down from the bed, eyeing the genie from head to… well he didn’t have toe. “What’s your name?”
“Name?” the genie frowned in confusion. “Changmin, I guess. Is that even important?”
“You guess…?”
“It’s the name of this boy whose form I took after,” the genie shrugged.
“Oh,” Jaejoong nodded awkwardly, clearing his throat. He knew what he wanted, he just couldn’t say it right. “Well, Changmin, my first wish is… ‘a good thing’. I want ‘a good thing’ that creates ‘happiness’.”
When the genie stayed silent, Jaejoong shifted uneasily. “… is it possible?”
“No if you don’t specify what this good thing is,” Changmin answered as a matter of fact. “How can I know if you yourself do not know?”
“Oh,” the masked man’s eyes were casted downwards, head dropping in disappointment. “I don’t know what to wish for now,” he then looked up again, eyes hoping. “Can… can I have you as a friend?”
Changmin eyed him with a mix of curiosity and interest. “It’s not something people usually wish for, you know?”
Jaejoong blinked. “You count that as a wish? It’s not even something solid!”
“Whenever you ask a favor, I count it as a wish,” the genie said plainly. “Besides, do you think a wish or good thing is always something solid materially?”
Jaejoong took a moment before shaking his head, questioning himself why he even bothered to think. “Okay, count that as my first wish.”
Just like that, there went the first encounter between Kim Jaejoong, a homeless backpacker in search for ‘a good thing’, and Changmin, a genie in mysterious magic lamp.
“The first wish was granted.”
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
depends on how one looks at it
-
Time flew like a furling whirlwind. Jaejoong-still with aluminum half-faced mask--continued his journey to discover the presence of ‘good thing’. The only difference now was that he had another companion beside his backpack.
They somehow became friends, even if the weird way, with Jaejoong telling Changmin everything he found in his journey and Changmin intently listening to Jaejoong, sometimes throwing a smart comment or two. They even made a special agreement. If Jaejoong wanted to chat with the genie, he would knock the lamp instead of rubbing it.
Soon enough, the lamp was one of a few things remaining in his backpack and the masked man hadn’t found the need to rub it.
“Aren’t you disgusted by my appearance?” Jaejoong asked one night, when they were safe in the solitude of an inn’s room somewhere near Busan. He never thought about gaining the confidence to put off his mask in front of anyone else, but there he was, lying leisurely on a bed, mask abandoned on the drawer. Every curve of his burn scar was visible.
“No,” Changmin was floating from his lamp, arms crossed, words curt like they were the first time Jaejoong met him. After traveling for so long, seeing how world changed from time to time and place to place, the familiarity made Jaejoong feel somehow at ease. The witty words, the poker face, the rare smiles and mismatched eyes, the distinct flower scent. Everything. “At least you still have more dignity. You can walk on your own, not being carried around in a backpack like a certain being.”
The backpacker laughed, being used to the wittiness and sarcasm that built the genie in front of him. He knew the genie never meant any harm, not with those almond eyes that looked so warm despite his sharp tongue. Jaejoong was so used to it that he almost forgot the days when he couldn’t smile, laugh, or cry openly, for a reason as simple as he didn’t know how.
Because now he knew.
“At least you ought to be bored my ranting,” Jaejoong told his companion, sweeping a strand of black bang from his eyes. It was fun in an odd way, chatting with Changmin, like re-learning something you already knew but didn’t realize you did.
“Not really,” Changmin answered. “Your voice is nice.”
There was no flowery tone in the compliment, no hidden intention. Just a statement of fact. A trivial truth.
Somehow it made the words far more meaningful.
Jaejoong sank into the bed, covering his whole face with the comforter. There was a new emotion he was feeling, foreign, creeping from the pit of his stomach up to his face. He didn’t know before that he could blush.
“Changmin, what will happen to you once I have all my three wishes granted?” The backpacker changed the topic. He was now peeking from behind the fold, twin dark eyes twinkling like a pair of black pearls.
“Vanishing… or reincarnating,” the genie rubbed his chin, thrown into contemplation. One of his hands was twirling the hem of his top (sadly, unlike Aladdin’s genie, Changmin wore a top). “To be a human, animal, another genie… I don’t know.”
The backpacker was sitting with straight back, blinking with eyes open wide. “You won’t be the same as you are now?”
At the genie’s silent affirmation, Jaejoong stated without hesitation, “Then, I promise I will never have my third wish.”
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
once comes, lasts happily ever after
-
Three weeks after, Changmin floated out of his lamp not because Jaejoong knocked it like he did every single day, but because he rubbed it.
The genie came out to find his master’s face so close from his own. Shining face that glimmered with hope. No matter how the mask covered half of it, the radiance was clear, and Changmin doubted any scar or mask could hide such beauty from sight.
“Changmin,” the backpacker was gazing at him with hopeful eyes. The intensity of it was enough to make Changmin float back several inches, maintaining proper distance between them. “I have my second wish.”
The genie’s face remained indifferent, though deep down a mental countdown was ticking loudly. When the second wish was uttered, the distance between them and separation would be a last wish away. A word from Jaejoong, and everything was done.
Changmin knew a being like him, whose life cycle revolved around quick dissipation and reincarnation, shouldn’t be too attached to anything. Not the earth, the sky, animals, and definitely not human. Not his master. Not Jaejoong.
“What is your second wish?”
But he couldn’t help but enjoying his time with Jaejoong. There were a number of times when he had the duty as genie, and never in those occasions did his masters wish for something as simple as being friend with him. Genie is a tool, used to satisfy human needs. Temporary, material needs that left those humans nothing but more craving in the end.
His paradigm about humans tilted upside down when Jaejoong not only asked, but also offered friendship to him.
But he knew he couldn’t be selfish. Jaejoong had bought him and while the term ‘friends’ still applied, they had another contract.
“’True love’,” the answer was immediate, sure, without hesitation. “I have journeyed a thousand miles and observed what it was that builds ‘happiness’. It was ‘love’. ‘Love’ between two people, ‘love’ that makes every drop of tear tastes sweet and every smile rotates the world the right way. I don’t care if it’s a woman or man. Just… ‘true love’.”
Changmin was silent, before grunting under his breathe. “Why do you always ask for something so abstract?” Jaejoong was waiting, hopeful, with half-revealed face beaming in anticipation.
When Changmin stayed still, however, the smile slowly faltered. “… is it possible?”
The genie merely raised an eyebrow. “What, do you expect the person to pop out of the thin air?” he snapped, unconsciously growing cold and irritated. Jaejoong grinned sheepishly at the realization, scratching the back of his head. “Wait and see how Fate mulls over you wish, twists your line of life with another’s.”
With his master’s silly grin and dreamy eyes, Changmin retreated into the safety of his lamp, where he was nothing more than a gush of insignificant white smoke. No feeling and no broken heart.
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
is not worth fighting for
-
Two days after the second wish was uttered, Kim Jaejoong met Jung Yunho.
Jung Yunho was the owner of a vast ranch in a peaceful village town, where groups of sheep happily feasting on fresh grasses, basking in the warmth of sunlight. The man was like the sunlight itself, or the grasses, because his smile was so warm and his laughter so refreshing.
It was like attraction at its fastest pace, where eyes meeting and smiles shyly exchanged. The chemistry grew quickly. Yunho fell for Jaejoong’s initial distant look, intrigued by the mysterious beauty that hid behind a half-faced mask. They sat together by the bank of a small lake near the ranch, exchanging stories, and soon the ranch owner fell harder for Jaejoong’s angel-like voice and the animated way he spoke.
Jaejoong, too, was absorbed by the man’s shining gorgeousness. But more than that, he was intoxicated by the affection Yunho showered upon him. He never felt that cherished, that loved, it’s a feeling so sweet he hoped it would be everlasting. He even went as far as stop traveling around, thinking that he finally found the ‘happiness’ he had always dreamt of. Yunho offered him a room in his pavilion, a promise for lasting togetherness, and Jaejoong didn’t even feel the need to think.
“Changmin, thank you for granting my second wish.”
The genie nodded slightly, trying to hide the bitter curl around his lips. Half-sitting on the bed, Jaejoong twirled his mask between slim fingers, lovesick grin on his face.
Changmin tried not to think of how Jaejoong never thanked him for granting the first wish.
“Jaejoong-ah?” Yunho’s voice suddenly resounded, followed by a polite knock on the door. He was considerate enough, Changmin thought, since it was already past 10 in the night.
Jaejoong tensed at the call, quickly putting on his mask and hissing for Changmin to get lost. The genie obeyed reluctantly, glancing for the last time to find his master open the door for Yunho, a wide smile on the span of visible milky face. Changmin didn’t like that smile, too doll-like; but who was he to speak?
The ranch owner smiled back fondly, twinkles in his eyes. “Do you mind if we have a chat now?”
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
is merely shapeless delusion
-
It needed 10 full seconds for Changmin to react when Jaejoong, his master, rubbed the lamp for the third time.
Dread gripped his heart as soon as he saw the backpacker’s tearful face. Lines of tears tracked the ugly curve of his scar, eyelids trembling, rows of pearly white teeth biting into an abused lower lip. Jaejoong looked angry, angry and desperate, as if hating the world and everything it got to offer.
“Why?” the voice was hoarse, scarred, and Changmin dared not to think of a cause. “They said true love will accept without demanding, but why?! Did you lie when you granted my second wish? Isn’t it true love that you bestowed upon me? So why can’t he accept?! WHY?!”
The genie was confused, but remained quiet against the bombardment of questions. It wasn’t his place to answer. His duty was merely delivering the wish to Lady Fate and let it up to her to knit the storyline.
“Jaejoong…”
“I’ll have my third wish,” the black eyes shone, wild with anger and determination. There was no doubt in those eyes, no more consideration, and Changmin resisted the urge to gulp at the imminent consequence.
“This is your last chance, Jaejoong, think wisely,” he advised softly, posture tensed and taut, frightened. Please Jaejoong, remember that you once promised never to use this chance, to have this… this friendship forever, right--?
“I want to get rid of this scar.” The third wish was uttered, clear and doubtless against the still air. Something cracked inside Changmin, though the genie couldn’t figure out exactly what. Or he actually had an inclination and did not dare to ponder further.
Instead, he heaved a deep breathe (or looked like that, he didn’t exactly need to breathe). “Jaejoong, are you sure-?”
“Yes.” The answer was immediate, spoken through gritted teeth and shaken eyes, and Changmin closed his eyes. Something cracked. “If this goddamn scar is what deprives me of true love and happiness, if this is what makes him cannot accept me, then I’ll get rid of it without hesitation. No one can stop me. Not you, not a ridiculous promise, nothing at all.”
It hurt, stabbed right through his heart several times over, but Changmin kept quiet. Jaejoong never told him what the matter was-they never talked that often ever since Jaejoong met Yunho. But Changmin could see it in those determined pearl-black eyes, saw Yunho in the depth of them, Yunho and not him. No more of him.
It hurt, but Changmin knew his duty. That his place was no longer a friend to Jaejoong, but merely a purchased item. Jaejoong was his master.
“Your third wish was granted.”
Webs of malformed skin started to dissipate slowly. Jaejoong closed his eyes, feeling as each inch of skin went back to its glorious perfectness. He smiled, and when everything was done he opened his eyes and mouth to say thank you.
Changmin already vanished, leaving only a wisp of distinctive flower-scented air.
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
is merely an empty dream
-
Jaejoong sat lifelessly in the inn room, gazing absently towards the empty air. On his lap, an old yellow lamp was sitting quietly, abandoned.
He lifted his hand and tried to knock the lamp. Once. Twice. Nothing came out of it. The lamps was back to being an ordinary lamp, without a snarky (but warm-eyed, warm-eyed) genie to come out and scowl at him, yet accepting his flaws and listening to all his blabbers.
Jaejoong let his hand fell on his side. In the spur of emotion earlier, he wasn’t thinking about consequences. Because it hurt, the way Yunho looked at his scarred face hurt, the words Yunho uttered afterwards hurt, that was why he mindlessly went to his only source of comfort, planning to ease himself though he hadn’t really thought how.
He didn’t consider about short-term and long-term consequences. Now he was there in the lonely room, yes perfect-faced but no true love or true friend to show it to.
What’s the meaning of this all?
Jaejoong remembered, the accepting eyes his genie friend possessed, never once tainted by distaste or disgust. Finally, after having fallen to the lowest downturn of esteem, he had found someone who could accept, found him since the first wish. Only he was so foolish that he never realized.
And now he lost him.
“Changmin-ah…” he whispered brokenly, weakly tapped the lamp that Changmin once resided in. Tears fell from large eyes, down the porcelain cheeks and onto the carved surface, but the lamp remained silent and unresponsive in his hold. He was alone, completely alone, the only good thing in his life flew away without his realizing. Or worse, he was the one who let it go. Changmin could be reincarnating into a prince in Mexico or another genie in rural Africa, find someone who could cherish him more than Jaejoong ever did.
Changmin, wherever you are and whomever you’re with now, please… do remember me?
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
lies in thing you never realize until it’s gone
-
Days continued so painstakingly slow, like lazy humid summer afternoon that felt like dragging on forever. Jaejoong was no longer a backpacker, having settled in a small town and worked as a cook in a food stall (a talent he just found out nowadays, by the way). It was a stabile job, his employer was kind and the customers loved his work.
However, Jaejoong found himself in a daze almost everyday, as if losing his core, his sense of balance.
He had his own room now, with clothes and stuffs jammed into a narrow wooden wardrobe. The mask he once used everyday had been thrown into a trash can somewhere near Ilsan, so had everything Yunho once gave him. His old backpack was stored at the far corner of the wardrobe, bearing nothing but a single item.
An old, ancient golden lamp from Kenya.
As day by day continued, Jaejoong found himself not thinking about Yunho that much, instead wondering where Changmin could be at certain time of the year. Had he reincarnated into something new? Did he find a new master and become friends with him? It was like a dream, those months he spent with Changmin, yet the flawless contour of his face told very clearly that the genie wasn’t a fragment of imagination, their story together wasn’t false illusion.
If he transform into someone new… does he still remember about me?
The cook sighed, fanning himself with his hands. It was almost afternoon, and he had approximately ten minutes more before people crammed in for lunch.
Will he forgive me for having my third wish? Or is he relieved because he doesn’t need to listen to my pathetic stories anymore? Does he find someone more interesting out there?
“Two bowls of noodle, two kinds of vegetables!” An order came, and Jaejoong woke up from his daydream.
“Soon!” he shouted back, throwing the needed ingredients into a preheated cooking pot. Delicious aroma wafted from the boiling food. Tasting a little and satisfied, Jaejoong put down the fire.
“Jaejoong-ah, the servants are busy, could you please serve the food yourself? The second table from the door!” his employer shouted from behind the counter, all the while busy counting the money a customer just handed. Jaejoong shouted back his affirmation, making his way through the bustling people in order to get to the right table.
“Here is your food, please enjoy,” he said, putting the plates in front of the customer. “Is there anything else I can get you--“
His words were cut dead, however, by sheer gaze of achingly familiar brown eyes. The customer smiled enigmatically, eyes going mismatched as he said, “I ordered food for two but I’m only alone here, could you perhaps join me, Jaejoong-sshi?”
“C-Ch-Changmin…” Jaejoong was totally dumbstruck, legs going numb as he tried to think coherently. He gapingly eyed the man from head to toe-oh, he now had toes. “H-How…?”
Changmin only shrugged with a little laugh. “Lady Fate could be slow sometimes.” Stroking Jaejoong’s now-porcelain left cheek, he said tenderly, “Your second wish was granted.”
-
He now believes, that
every good thing
lies in front of him, right here, right now
-
FIN
A/N: Writer’s block is reaaaally frustrating!
Every Good Thing
He once believed, that
every good thing
is too good to be true
-
Jaejoong often wondered why happiness seemed to declare a permanent war against him.
It had been like that since he could remember. No, he didn’t lead a pitiful childhood life inside a carton-box house. In fact, he was born with silver spoon in his mouth, being the only son of a wealthy governor in the entire city. His mother died when he was really young and his father got married with a high-ranked courtesan. Both of them soon got entangled in scandals with their own secret lover, making young Jaejoong wonder why they bothered to get married in the first place.
Young Jaejoong wasn’t exactly sad about these conditions. It was more of bland, like he didn’t know what proper emotion he should feel in certain situations. His real mother was dead before he could even call her ‘Umma’, thus he couldn’t remember anything about her enough to be saddened by it. His father was a person who thought that money solved everything-which in most occasions was true-so he didn’t really expect any form of warmth given from the man. His step mother was too busy chalking her face and painting her lips, and while he was thankful that she wasn’t some kind of Cinderella’s stepmother, he wasn’t exactly happy either.
Jaejoong tried to ‘look at things from the bright side’ and be thankful that he didn’t live in poverty at the very least, but in the end, he fathomed that an empty life was much, much worse than tearful social-moral theatres he watched once in a while to kill time.
There was a saying that if you never feel sad then you won’t know how happy feels like and vice versa. Perhaps it had something to do with his antisocial trait. He never built any relationship with both guys and girls, being schooled at home with teachers came thrice a week cut quite a lot of chance to socialize and interact. The mountain of silk hanbok and priced jewels in his wardrobe never looked shiny because he never saw anything less than it. A bad happening didn’t feel saddening because he never experienced anything truly good in his life, and vice versa.
His plain life turned upside down, however, on one evening of his 20th birthday. It was a rare occasion when his parents and he sat together for dinner. Perhaps the maids were too hectic over cooking the best meals (his father and stepmother rarely dined in at home; when they did, they demanded much), but soon a something exploded and burned the whole house. Taking down his parents’ life, the maids’, and half of his face with it.
Falling down to being suddenly parentless and homeless never was a small deal. Having a half-burnt face instead of well-crafted cheekbone he once possessed nearly had him punch every mirror he laid a hand on. There was a wide span of scorch mark on his entire left cheeks, a part of his nose, and down to half of his chin. He was fortunate enough that the fire missed his left eye (barely an inch, but still), else he also had to live a life of half-blind.
Only on that time, he realized what he actually had had. And then lost without proper recognition.
It didn’t help at all that his relatives-who gave him temporary place to sleep in-never looked at him the same way anymore. It was either pity or a degree of disgust; whichever, Jaejoong was aggravated enough to bid goodbye without regret. Thankfully his father left enough money in their family account to last him a year of two. After that, he would need to worry about finding a job and permanent house-and how to do all those with that new, horrific face like his. Strangely enough, while he lost confidence and gained an amount of fright to face the world, he didn’t exactly feel sad.
At least, the tragedy taught him something.
That good thing doesn’t always involve money like what his father believed, nor does it revolve around physical beauty like his stepmother often bragged about. A snap of God’s fingers shattered the superficial glam, and the lack of sadness he felt proved that it wasn’t true happiness. The things his parents deemed ‘good’ were actually not everlasting.
So he decided. He would go to look for an absolute ‘good thing’ that created ‘happiness’. With that ‘happiness’, he would fill the emptiness in his heart and move on.
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
comes with a certain price
-
A black-haired man fixed the aluminum mask he was wearing. It was plain gray, fully covering the left side of his face, leaving only the right side visible. People would look at him strangely as he strolled by the roads, looking at his unveiled rosy lips and one sharp dark eye, wondering what kind of beauty hidden behind the intriguing-looking mask.
They didn’t know what kind of ugly monster lurking from behind the half-faced mask. They didn’t need to.
Freedom wasn’t something Jaejoong was familiar with, thus explaining the weird sensation he felt whenever he woke up in another inn room every morning, drinking different brands of cheap soju and strolling down the roads he didn’t even know existed before. His bundle of backpack was heavy with clothes and money-beside that, he didn’t bring anything else. He explored the lengths and turns of every street he passed by, delved into each market he could find and tasting different kinds of food everyday.
That was him, Kim Jaejoong, the son of a mighty governor, who turned into a homeless backpacker traveler.
He didn’t travel for no reason. He was looking for something, something he knew was precious even though he never really saw it. Whenever he entered a shop, or stopped by a stall, sellers would smile and asked,
“Young man, what are you looking for?”
He would stare at them with his masked left eye and uncovered right one, before answering without hesitation.
“’A good thing’,” he would say, slowly, like savoring the word on his tongue. The visible right side of his face remained emotionless, like a dead doll. “I’m searching for ‘a good thing’ that brings ‘happiness’.”
The sellers would look at him in confusion, smiles faltering, before deciding to ignore his strange choice of words and started blabbering about their products. He would listen intently, at first, before deciding that it was just another superficial thing, not, never was the ‘good thing’ he was looking for. He would leave by then, sometimes buying an item or two, attracting bewildered whispers upon his departure.
It was the sixth month of his journey, the 178th day, when he was attracted into a night festival. Kids were running around, bumping into his long legs without apology. Sellers decorated their stalls with multicolor lamps in hope to attract more purchasers. Jaejoong walked the narrow ways between opposing stalls, eyes swiftly sweeping the available stuffs they sold, hoping to find a potential item to quench his thirst over the unnamed ‘good thing’.
After sitting down for soju and a set of dumplings, he finally caught a stall that attracted his interest. The stall was not crowded; in fact, it looked almost unseen by people who passed by. It was not surprising, Jaejoong thought, what with the black teal tent and closed door. However, there was something about the stall that made his legs swing their way into it.
The inside decoration was creepy to say the least. It was all black, with yellow light shimmering dimly above the masked man’s head. All he could see was a black-clothed table with random items strewn on it. A man with weird ethnic cloak and bone jewelry was sitting behind the said table.
“Young man,” a voice resounded, distracting Jaejoong from his mental review on the stall’s poor decoration and the seller’s equally poor fashion sense. The masked man looked up to meet a pair of surprisingly warm eyes. From the face and voice, Jaejoong noted that the seller himself wasn’t old at all, probably just around late 20. “What are you looking for?”
Raising an eyebrow at the typical question, Jaejoong answered automatically, without thinking or feeling. “’I’m searching for ‘a good thing’. ‘A good thing’ that creates happiness’.”
The dark-eyed man expected confusion to cross the seller’s face, but the weird-clothed young man bobbed his head up and down instead, as if understanding his wish. Jaejoong’s curiousness was picked up even though he didn’t hope much. For this seller to be unfazed by his masked face and weird diction already gained some credits.
“My name is Kim Junsu,” the seller told him, gesturing with his hand for Jaejoong to come closer. “Come here if you believe me.”
Jaejoong obeyed, albeit deliberately. He wasn’t really thinking about belief when he did. Just wanted to know.
“This is a genie lamp from rural Kenya,” Junsu said when his customer was close enough, producing an antique lamp from under the black tablecloth. It looked like the lamp from Aladdin fairy tale Jaejoong heard when he was a kid. “However, the genie will come out only if you’re a person who really needs him. He will grant you only three wishes. If the genie comes out when you rub the lamp, you should choose very carefully. Choose the ‘good thing’ you’re looking for.”
Jaejoong only nodded, and accepted the so-called genie lamp from Junsu. He even paid for it, though he believed it was just another kind of lame tall tell to attract costumers. The lamp wasn’t even expensive, Jaejoong thought as he walked out of the stall. Even if it weren’t real genie lamp, at least the shape is unique enough to add some sparks into his bland life. There was nothing he had to lose.
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
is indeed a superficial thing
-
Having only a backpack as his companion slash multifunctional pouch, it was natural for Jaejoong to sort the contents once in a while and threw away unneeded items. So one week and two days after the night festival, he was surrounded by an ocean of random items on an inn room’s floor, trying to pick which one he should keep and which one he should throw away.
When he said ‘random items’, he really meant random things, like a bag of marinated ladybug chips and a guidebook to build miniature Joseon palace. He threw both items to the pile of ‘unneeded’, sighing at his obvious fail attempt to get a hand on ‘a good thing’. He searched, saw, and bought so many, but still, nothing of those things brought him true ‘happiness’.
The 20 year-old was proceeding to weigh an Arabian belly-dancer doll when his eyes caught something. The old lamp wasn’t even shiny, instead looking poor buried under the articles of clothing, thus explaining why he didn’t notice it earlier.
Jaejoong reached for the neglected lamp-throwing the smiling empty-faced doll in the process-and brought the lamp onto his lap. It was yellow, perhaps initially golden, with strange characters written around the lining of the cap. He remembered faintly what the strange-looking seller told him. Feeling ridiculous but curious enough, he decided to give a try.
Not that he was genuinely interested. He just wanted to try once before throwing it away along with other twenty different items already mounting on the floor.
He rubbed the lamp once, twice.
And waited.
And properly jumped out of his skin when the lamp suddenly exploded with a ringing ‘buzz’, filling the small room with strange flower-smelling smoke.
Faint shape of a man appeared behind the fog, and when the smoke had cleared out enough, Jaejoong was already standing on the corner of his bed with half-empty backpack on tow, ready to strike whatever dubious creature emerging from inside the lamp.
The smoke dissipated quickly enough, and soon the masked man (yes, Jaejoong wore mask, even in the solitude of his inn room) was eye-to-eye with a pair of beautiful, brown, round…… and annoyed-looking eyes.
Jaejoong blinked, backpack dangling uselessly on one hand. The… creature (which was only solid from hip upwards, the body’s lower region was merely transparent smoke connected to the lamp) was a male, if gender applied on this kind of thing. The genie was abating the remnants of smoke with one hand, looking around the inn room in distaste.
“What’s your first wish?” the creature asked curtly, eyes penetrating deep into Jaejoong’s, as if mapping every single line of both his revealed and unrevealed side of face. So contrasting with the nonchalance he imposed on his façade.
“Uh……” Jaejoong mentally chided himself for previously thinking that Aladdin (and genie stories in general) was ridiculous. He could only gape at the young-looking male genie, not knowing what to say. His bland life experiences obviously didn’t teach him what to do when being opposed by an irritated-looking genie.
Who looked much more attractive than Aladdin’s genie, by the way.
“…… what are you?” the dumbfounded backpacker asked after seconds of silence, feeling idiot afterwards.
“A genie, of course,” the creature raised an eyebrow, hands folded before his chest. “Didn’t Junsu tell you before you bought me?”
Jaejoong gulped. “E-err yeah, that weird fashioned seller… I m-mean, J-Junsu-sshi is it? He told me that it is a g-genie lamp, but, well…”
“But you didn’t believe him?” The genie guessed, as if used to this situation.
“Well… not really,” Jaejoong said meekly, backpack crashing onto the bed. Was he to be blamed? He was having the shock of his life, not grievous devastation like his parents’ tragedy, but a wild moment that tilted his reality off balance. “I wasn’t even thinking when I paid…”
The genie scowled. Having ‘genie’ and ‘scowl’ in one sentence already sounded too wrong for Jaejoong’s sanity. “It’s always Junsu’s forte, using dark decoration and husky voice to confuse people….”
“And according to him, I’m your… master?”
“… sort of.”
“He said I can have three wishes,” Jaejoong tentatively stepped down from the bed, eyeing the genie from head to… well he didn’t have toe. “What’s your name?”
“Name?” the genie frowned in confusion. “Changmin, I guess. Is that even important?”
“You guess…?”
“It’s the name of this boy whose form I took after,” the genie shrugged.
“Oh,” Jaejoong nodded awkwardly, clearing his throat. He knew what he wanted, he just couldn’t say it right. “Well, Changmin, my first wish is… ‘a good thing’. I want ‘a good thing’ that creates ‘happiness’.”
When the genie stayed silent, Jaejoong shifted uneasily. “… is it possible?”
“No if you don’t specify what this good thing is,” Changmin answered as a matter of fact. “How can I know if you yourself do not know?”
“Oh,” the masked man’s eyes were casted downwards, head dropping in disappointment. “I don’t know what to wish for now,” he then looked up again, eyes hoping. “Can… can I have you as a friend?”
Changmin eyed him with a mix of curiosity and interest. “It’s not something people usually wish for, you know?”
Jaejoong blinked. “You count that as a wish? It’s not even something solid!”
“Whenever you ask a favor, I count it as a wish,” the genie said plainly. “Besides, do you think a wish or good thing is always something solid materially?”
Jaejoong took a moment before shaking his head, questioning himself why he even bothered to think. “Okay, count that as my first wish.”
Just like that, there went the first encounter between Kim Jaejoong, a homeless backpacker in search for ‘a good thing’, and Changmin, a genie in mysterious magic lamp.
“The first wish was granted.”
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
depends on how one looks at it
-
Time flew like a furling whirlwind. Jaejoong-still with aluminum half-faced mask--continued his journey to discover the presence of ‘good thing’. The only difference now was that he had another companion beside his backpack.
They somehow became friends, even if the weird way, with Jaejoong telling Changmin everything he found in his journey and Changmin intently listening to Jaejoong, sometimes throwing a smart comment or two. They even made a special agreement. If Jaejoong wanted to chat with the genie, he would knock the lamp instead of rubbing it.
Soon enough, the lamp was one of a few things remaining in his backpack and the masked man hadn’t found the need to rub it.
“Aren’t you disgusted by my appearance?” Jaejoong asked one night, when they were safe in the solitude of an inn’s room somewhere near Busan. He never thought about gaining the confidence to put off his mask in front of anyone else, but there he was, lying leisurely on a bed, mask abandoned on the drawer. Every curve of his burn scar was visible.
“No,” Changmin was floating from his lamp, arms crossed, words curt like they were the first time Jaejoong met him. After traveling for so long, seeing how world changed from time to time and place to place, the familiarity made Jaejoong feel somehow at ease. The witty words, the poker face, the rare smiles and mismatched eyes, the distinct flower scent. Everything. “At least you still have more dignity. You can walk on your own, not being carried around in a backpack like a certain being.”
The backpacker laughed, being used to the wittiness and sarcasm that built the genie in front of him. He knew the genie never meant any harm, not with those almond eyes that looked so warm despite his sharp tongue. Jaejoong was so used to it that he almost forgot the days when he couldn’t smile, laugh, or cry openly, for a reason as simple as he didn’t know how.
Because now he knew.
“At least you ought to be bored my ranting,” Jaejoong told his companion, sweeping a strand of black bang from his eyes. It was fun in an odd way, chatting with Changmin, like re-learning something you already knew but didn’t realize you did.
“Not really,” Changmin answered. “Your voice is nice.”
There was no flowery tone in the compliment, no hidden intention. Just a statement of fact. A trivial truth.
Somehow it made the words far more meaningful.
Jaejoong sank into the bed, covering his whole face with the comforter. There was a new emotion he was feeling, foreign, creeping from the pit of his stomach up to his face. He didn’t know before that he could blush.
“Changmin, what will happen to you once I have all my three wishes granted?” The backpacker changed the topic. He was now peeking from behind the fold, twin dark eyes twinkling like a pair of black pearls.
“Vanishing… or reincarnating,” the genie rubbed his chin, thrown into contemplation. One of his hands was twirling the hem of his top (sadly, unlike Aladdin’s genie, Changmin wore a top). “To be a human, animal, another genie… I don’t know.”
The backpacker was sitting with straight back, blinking with eyes open wide. “You won’t be the same as you are now?”
At the genie’s silent affirmation, Jaejoong stated without hesitation, “Then, I promise I will never have my third wish.”
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
once comes, lasts happily ever after
-
Three weeks after, Changmin floated out of his lamp not because Jaejoong knocked it like he did every single day, but because he rubbed it.
The genie came out to find his master’s face so close from his own. Shining face that glimmered with hope. No matter how the mask covered half of it, the radiance was clear, and Changmin doubted any scar or mask could hide such beauty from sight.
“Changmin,” the backpacker was gazing at him with hopeful eyes. The intensity of it was enough to make Changmin float back several inches, maintaining proper distance between them. “I have my second wish.”
The genie’s face remained indifferent, though deep down a mental countdown was ticking loudly. When the second wish was uttered, the distance between them and separation would be a last wish away. A word from Jaejoong, and everything was done.
Changmin knew a being like him, whose life cycle revolved around quick dissipation and reincarnation, shouldn’t be too attached to anything. Not the earth, the sky, animals, and definitely not human. Not his master. Not Jaejoong.
“What is your second wish?”
But he couldn’t help but enjoying his time with Jaejoong. There were a number of times when he had the duty as genie, and never in those occasions did his masters wish for something as simple as being friend with him. Genie is a tool, used to satisfy human needs. Temporary, material needs that left those humans nothing but more craving in the end.
His paradigm about humans tilted upside down when Jaejoong not only asked, but also offered friendship to him.
But he knew he couldn’t be selfish. Jaejoong had bought him and while the term ‘friends’ still applied, they had another contract.
“’True love’,” the answer was immediate, sure, without hesitation. “I have journeyed a thousand miles and observed what it was that builds ‘happiness’. It was ‘love’. ‘Love’ between two people, ‘love’ that makes every drop of tear tastes sweet and every smile rotates the world the right way. I don’t care if it’s a woman or man. Just… ‘true love’.”
Changmin was silent, before grunting under his breathe. “Why do you always ask for something so abstract?” Jaejoong was waiting, hopeful, with half-revealed face beaming in anticipation.
When Changmin stayed still, however, the smile slowly faltered. “… is it possible?”
The genie merely raised an eyebrow. “What, do you expect the person to pop out of the thin air?” he snapped, unconsciously growing cold and irritated. Jaejoong grinned sheepishly at the realization, scratching the back of his head. “Wait and see how Fate mulls over you wish, twists your line of life with another’s.”
With his master’s silly grin and dreamy eyes, Changmin retreated into the safety of his lamp, where he was nothing more than a gush of insignificant white smoke. No feeling and no broken heart.
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
is not worth fighting for
-
Two days after the second wish was uttered, Kim Jaejoong met Jung Yunho.
Jung Yunho was the owner of a vast ranch in a peaceful village town, where groups of sheep happily feasting on fresh grasses, basking in the warmth of sunlight. The man was like the sunlight itself, or the grasses, because his smile was so warm and his laughter so refreshing.
It was like attraction at its fastest pace, where eyes meeting and smiles shyly exchanged. The chemistry grew quickly. Yunho fell for Jaejoong’s initial distant look, intrigued by the mysterious beauty that hid behind a half-faced mask. They sat together by the bank of a small lake near the ranch, exchanging stories, and soon the ranch owner fell harder for Jaejoong’s angel-like voice and the animated way he spoke.
Jaejoong, too, was absorbed by the man’s shining gorgeousness. But more than that, he was intoxicated by the affection Yunho showered upon him. He never felt that cherished, that loved, it’s a feeling so sweet he hoped it would be everlasting. He even went as far as stop traveling around, thinking that he finally found the ‘happiness’ he had always dreamt of. Yunho offered him a room in his pavilion, a promise for lasting togetherness, and Jaejoong didn’t even feel the need to think.
“Changmin, thank you for granting my second wish.”
The genie nodded slightly, trying to hide the bitter curl around his lips. Half-sitting on the bed, Jaejoong twirled his mask between slim fingers, lovesick grin on his face.
Changmin tried not to think of how Jaejoong never thanked him for granting the first wish.
“Jaejoong-ah?” Yunho’s voice suddenly resounded, followed by a polite knock on the door. He was considerate enough, Changmin thought, since it was already past 10 in the night.
Jaejoong tensed at the call, quickly putting on his mask and hissing for Changmin to get lost. The genie obeyed reluctantly, glancing for the last time to find his master open the door for Yunho, a wide smile on the span of visible milky face. Changmin didn’t like that smile, too doll-like; but who was he to speak?
The ranch owner smiled back fondly, twinkles in his eyes. “Do you mind if we have a chat now?”
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
is merely shapeless delusion
-
It needed 10 full seconds for Changmin to react when Jaejoong, his master, rubbed the lamp for the third time.
Dread gripped his heart as soon as he saw the backpacker’s tearful face. Lines of tears tracked the ugly curve of his scar, eyelids trembling, rows of pearly white teeth biting into an abused lower lip. Jaejoong looked angry, angry and desperate, as if hating the world and everything it got to offer.
“Why?” the voice was hoarse, scarred, and Changmin dared not to think of a cause. “They said true love will accept without demanding, but why?! Did you lie when you granted my second wish? Isn’t it true love that you bestowed upon me? So why can’t he accept?! WHY?!”
The genie was confused, but remained quiet against the bombardment of questions. It wasn’t his place to answer. His duty was merely delivering the wish to Lady Fate and let it up to her to knit the storyline.
“Jaejoong…”
“I’ll have my third wish,” the black eyes shone, wild with anger and determination. There was no doubt in those eyes, no more consideration, and Changmin resisted the urge to gulp at the imminent consequence.
“This is your last chance, Jaejoong, think wisely,” he advised softly, posture tensed and taut, frightened. Please Jaejoong, remember that you once promised never to use this chance, to have this… this friendship forever, right--?
“I want to get rid of this scar.” The third wish was uttered, clear and doubtless against the still air. Something cracked inside Changmin, though the genie couldn’t figure out exactly what. Or he actually had an inclination and did not dare to ponder further.
Instead, he heaved a deep breathe (or looked like that, he didn’t exactly need to breathe). “Jaejoong, are you sure-?”
“Yes.” The answer was immediate, spoken through gritted teeth and shaken eyes, and Changmin closed his eyes. Something cracked. “If this goddamn scar is what deprives me of true love and happiness, if this is what makes him cannot accept me, then I’ll get rid of it without hesitation. No one can stop me. Not you, not a ridiculous promise, nothing at all.”
It hurt, stabbed right through his heart several times over, but Changmin kept quiet. Jaejoong never told him what the matter was-they never talked that often ever since Jaejoong met Yunho. But Changmin could see it in those determined pearl-black eyes, saw Yunho in the depth of them, Yunho and not him. No more of him.
It hurt, but Changmin knew his duty. That his place was no longer a friend to Jaejoong, but merely a purchased item. Jaejoong was his master.
“Your third wish was granted.”
Webs of malformed skin started to dissipate slowly. Jaejoong closed his eyes, feeling as each inch of skin went back to its glorious perfectness. He smiled, and when everything was done he opened his eyes and mouth to say thank you.
Changmin already vanished, leaving only a wisp of distinctive flower-scented air.
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
is merely an empty dream
-
Jaejoong sat lifelessly in the inn room, gazing absently towards the empty air. On his lap, an old yellow lamp was sitting quietly, abandoned.
He lifted his hand and tried to knock the lamp. Once. Twice. Nothing came out of it. The lamps was back to being an ordinary lamp, without a snarky (but warm-eyed, warm-eyed) genie to come out and scowl at him, yet accepting his flaws and listening to all his blabbers.
Jaejoong let his hand fell on his side. In the spur of emotion earlier, he wasn’t thinking about consequences. Because it hurt, the way Yunho looked at his scarred face hurt, the words Yunho uttered afterwards hurt, that was why he mindlessly went to his only source of comfort, planning to ease himself though he hadn’t really thought how.
He didn’t consider about short-term and long-term consequences. Now he was there in the lonely room, yes perfect-faced but no true love or true friend to show it to.
What’s the meaning of this all?
Jaejoong remembered, the accepting eyes his genie friend possessed, never once tainted by distaste or disgust. Finally, after having fallen to the lowest downturn of esteem, he had found someone who could accept, found him since the first wish. Only he was so foolish that he never realized.
And now he lost him.
“Changmin-ah…” he whispered brokenly, weakly tapped the lamp that Changmin once resided in. Tears fell from large eyes, down the porcelain cheeks and onto the carved surface, but the lamp remained silent and unresponsive in his hold. He was alone, completely alone, the only good thing in his life flew away without his realizing. Or worse, he was the one who let it go. Changmin could be reincarnating into a prince in Mexico or another genie in rural Africa, find someone who could cherish him more than Jaejoong ever did.
Changmin, wherever you are and whomever you’re with now, please… do remember me?
-
He once believed, that
every good thing
lies in thing you never realize until it’s gone
-
Days continued so painstakingly slow, like lazy humid summer afternoon that felt like dragging on forever. Jaejoong was no longer a backpacker, having settled in a small town and worked as a cook in a food stall (a talent he just found out nowadays, by the way). It was a stabile job, his employer was kind and the customers loved his work.
However, Jaejoong found himself in a daze almost everyday, as if losing his core, his sense of balance.
He had his own room now, with clothes and stuffs jammed into a narrow wooden wardrobe. The mask he once used everyday had been thrown into a trash can somewhere near Ilsan, so had everything Yunho once gave him. His old backpack was stored at the far corner of the wardrobe, bearing nothing but a single item.
An old, ancient golden lamp from Kenya.
As day by day continued, Jaejoong found himself not thinking about Yunho that much, instead wondering where Changmin could be at certain time of the year. Had he reincarnated into something new? Did he find a new master and become friends with him? It was like a dream, those months he spent with Changmin, yet the flawless contour of his face told very clearly that the genie wasn’t a fragment of imagination, their story together wasn’t false illusion.
If he transform into someone new… does he still remember about me?
The cook sighed, fanning himself with his hands. It was almost afternoon, and he had approximately ten minutes more before people crammed in for lunch.
Will he forgive me for having my third wish? Or is he relieved because he doesn’t need to listen to my pathetic stories anymore? Does he find someone more interesting out there?
“Two bowls of noodle, two kinds of vegetables!” An order came, and Jaejoong woke up from his daydream.
“Soon!” he shouted back, throwing the needed ingredients into a preheated cooking pot. Delicious aroma wafted from the boiling food. Tasting a little and satisfied, Jaejoong put down the fire.
“Jaejoong-ah, the servants are busy, could you please serve the food yourself? The second table from the door!” his employer shouted from behind the counter, all the while busy counting the money a customer just handed. Jaejoong shouted back his affirmation, making his way through the bustling people in order to get to the right table.
“Here is your food, please enjoy,” he said, putting the plates in front of the customer. “Is there anything else I can get you--“
His words were cut dead, however, by sheer gaze of achingly familiar brown eyes. The customer smiled enigmatically, eyes going mismatched as he said, “I ordered food for two but I’m only alone here, could you perhaps join me, Jaejoong-sshi?”
“C-Ch-Changmin…” Jaejoong was totally dumbstruck, legs going numb as he tried to think coherently. He gapingly eyed the man from head to toe-oh, he now had toes. “H-How…?”
Changmin only shrugged with a little laugh. “Lady Fate could be slow sometimes.” Stroking Jaejoong’s now-porcelain left cheek, he said tenderly, “Your second wish was granted.”
-
He now believes, that
every good thing
lies in front of him, right here, right now
-
FIN
A/N: Writer’s block is reaaaally frustrating!