1.
A drop of light had formed in front of my eyes
It bloomed into a star, bright in the night sky
Did you see me, the drowning fool while everyone was dry?
The first time they met, Sunwoo was three seconds from jumping. He was twelve stories above the dark racing streets of Seoul, the cold night wind on his cheek and a listless ache in his bones. There was no logical reason for Kim Sunwoo to be standing on this ledge, life seemingly happy and oh so spectacular. His roommates would have found the note by now, with how his phone was blowing up with calls and texts while Sunwoo just stared at the wisps of clouds in the sky. They were so free, so unburdened and beautiful and how Sunwoo yearned to feel like them, even if it was for only a moment. He’s taken the first step off, feet hanging over the edge and it was scary how calm he is. It was scary how the familiar squeeze of fear isn’t there anymore, gone with his will to hang on to life any longer. He was leaning forwards, shutting his eyes close and letting gravity take over as he admitted defeat and—
“Don’t do it, please,” an unfamiliar voice called out. There was a soft sting on his arm as Sunwoo opened his eyes, faced with the running current of activity. He turned around calmly, feeling the familiar gnaw of fear creeping back in as the numbness faded. Sunwoo felt the black cloud over his head thundering again, storming and brewing as he met the stranger’s eyes.
“I don’t think I can step back,” Sunwoo mumbled instead. The stranger’s expression wasn’t one of panic or even fear, like the look in Sunwoo’s friends’ eyes when they find his knife again, or when they find him with the empty pill bottles and so, so close to ending it all. It wasn’t the pity he gets from less close friends, or even the mild concern he gets from acquaintances. No, the stranger’s gaze was one of familiarity and empathy, like every droplet of rain on Sunwoo’s head has also fallen on this stranger’s tousled blond hair. His grip was firm but gentle, a small tug to it as Sunwoo felt himself being tugged away from the ledge. The rain cloud followed, dripping down and Sunwoo felt like drowning as he stared at the dark sky covering their heads.
“You can always step back,” the stranger mumbled, pulling Sunwoo into a soft hug as he squeezed his shoulder. Sunwoo felt the weight of something slipping into his hands, a familiar buzz jolting him awake as the stranger pulled away.
“So step back,” the stranger whispered, before turning away and leaving through the faded teal door Sunwoo spent so many days trying to cross over. The feeling of fear in the back of his mind swarms him down, biting and grasping as Sunwoo finally musters the courage to blink out the tear at the corner of his eyes. The sky seemed a little less dark now, lightening at 2 AM in the morning and Sunwoo faintly registered the sirens blaring in the background. He bites his bottom lip and takes a tentative step away from the ledge. Then another. And then, the call came in again.
2.
The water was cold that day, oh so frigid on my skin
You saw me under, and without caring where I might’ve been
You dove in anyway. And the story begins.
Sunwoo learns that the stranger’s name is Sohn Youngjae, or Eric, three days after from a small welcome party Changmin throws at the studio. A bright, bubbly dancer on Changmin’s crew who just moved to Seoul from LA for university, who carried a mask so cheerful Sunwoo couldn’t believe those were the same listless eyes he saw three days ago. He finds him waiting for Changmin one cold autumn night, picking at his jeans as he stared at the river just across the street from the dance building. It’s so easy, Sunwoo thinks, to just run to one of the many bridges overlooking the bridge and jump. Or maybe he doesn’t even need to go that far. After all, he’s already on the ninth floor. He feels the ache. Feels the sting from Kevin’s desperate tears as he held Sunwoo in a tight hug three nights ago. Feels the relief that sagged from Changmin’s shoulders when he wrapped Sunwoo in a bear hug. Feels the anger seething through Chanhee’s grip on his shoulder when he yells at Sunwoo for even considering the idea of jumping.
He wonders what kind of scolding he’ll get this time.
“The water’s really cold. Not a good way to go, trust me,” a somewhat familiar voice echoes in the empty practice room. If Sunwoo concentrates, he can feel the booming bass from the other practice room is being held, now devoid of its original purpose as Eric stares at him with a soft grin on his face.
“Tried it before?” Sunwoo asks, an amused smile dancing like a ghost on his lips. Eric gives him a tight-lipped smile.
“Four years ago, if memory serves,” Eric expands, walking over to drop down by Sunwoo’s side. Sunwoo just stares at him in mild interest, wondering what cruel curveball fate is trying to send him in an attempt to stop him from that fateful jump. There’s the scent of cherries in the air, slightly sour yet sweet as Eric leans his head on Sunwoo’s shoulder. There’s an odd kind of comfort to his touch, like Sunwoo was an old friend and not just someone he met three days ago on the verge of a jump. Sunwoo supposes they started a couple of steps ahead.
“How many times have you tried it?” Sunwoo asks, wondering himself where his sudden nervousness came from. Kim Sunwoo is the extroverted student everyone knows, after all. The life of the party, wherever he goes. Eric’s smile tugs at the corners of his lips, quirking into a half-grimace as his eyes unfocuses.
“Seven, maybe?” Eric says, a slight lace of acceptance in his tone. Sunwoo feels his heart squeeze.
“That’s one less than me,” Sunwoo chuckles hollowly, feeling the rain cloud disperse ever so slightly. He can’t quite place his finger on what made it disperse, just registers the clear air he’s inhaling from the heater in the room, and the scent of cherries from Eric and exhales.
“When I jump, would you jump with me?” Eric asks, and Sunwoo finally sees the curve ball flying in his direction. He smiles sadly.
“Sure.”
3.
It slid down my throat like a ball of fire
But somehow the the numbness took over the ire
If I told you I was fine, would I be a liar?
Sunwoo’s used to numbness. His entire life has been somewhat numb, like sitting in a bathtub of freezing water and only ever feeling the slight pricks of pain down his spine. His parents divorced when he was five, neither wanting the child as he was forced into the foster care system. He ran away from every one of those homes, good and bad, simply out of guilt and pain. The night’s crickets and the wind’s caress became his friends, carrying Sunwoo into a dance of sorts as he felt the melody of the night running through him. It was the only time he really felt alive, away from the memories and what could have been. The what should’ve been.
Sunwoo met Younghoon in middle school school, a high school tutor with a soft spot for the kid who always fell asleep during class but never forgot about his classmates. He caught Sunwoo sneaking snacks into a girl’s bag once when Sunwoo heard her parents yelling at her weight while he was sneaking out. Younghoon called him the neighborhood superhero for painstakingly remaking an entire science project for a bullied kid in class, even pitching in to help Sunwoo glue on the final pieces of paper during their lunch break and sneaking it into the kid’s locker. Sunwoo remembers the night spent poring over his stupid math homework and sipping on trhe strawberry milk Younghoon bought for them every night. He thought that Younghoon would be the family Sunwoo never had, finally the light at the end of the tunnel. Sunwoo had cried so hard attending Younghoon’s graduation ceremony he never even noticed how Younghoon’s parents were nowhere to be seen. But that didn’t matter. They were each other’s family, like two lonely clouds linking together to float into forever.
The day after Sunwoo graduated, Younghoon is found dead in his apartment, an empty bottle of pills by his side.
Eric tells him a similar story when they’re up at 4 AM eating dried squid one night, trading stories over a joint Animal Crossing island. Eric’s actual brother Jaehyun was gone too, albeit in a different way. They were oddly close, a different kind of comfort from one another that didn’t seem to care if they had only known each other for three months. Chanhee called Eric Sunwoo’s missing other half once, watching them bicker over the last piece of chicken. The piece ended up going to Eric, who won after pouting the world’s most adorable pout and Sunwoo is nothing but human as he relents. It was the least he could do, after Eric had poked a massive hole in his storm cloud.
Jaehyun had apparently been the same for Eric, a shield from their abusive father and his many girlfriends, working two jobs to support the two of them and even dropping out from high school for his baby brother. Eric tells Sunwoo about the scars and eye bags he’d see on his brother and remembers the vow he made to the stars that one day, he’ll make so much money his brother could live a worry-free life. He began dancing on the streets as a result, earning street credit and even being scouted by three kpop companies before he decided to drop them all and pursue a job offer at one of the world’s best dance studios, but don’t tell Changmin that. It’ll only get to his head.
Sunwoo is rubbing circles into Eric’s back by the time they finish their little tributes to their brothers on their island, holding him as Eric sobbed into his palms. The ache resurfaces when Sunwoo remembers Younghoon, tugging at his heartstrings as the first few tears slip out. The street lamps filter in soft rays of light for their little apartment on the sixth floor, covering them in a soft hue of white as they let each tear drop. They end up falling asleep with tear-stained cheeks and arms wrapped around each other, nothing but a light blanket Kevin draped over them when he finds them the next day.
Sunwoo wakes up to a new light at the end of his tunnel, one that’s snuggled into his chest and arms draped over his torso and Sunwoo finally gets the phrase living for somebody else.
4.
Sad days become happier with your tender smile
You, who I’ll protect from the world for a long while
You, who swears to stay with me for a longer while
Eric is with Sunwoo the day he finally sees a therapist for the first time. The therapist’s name is Sangyeon, who is also Eric’s therapist and few close friends in Korea. Sunwoo spent most of the session hesitantly revealing each scar engraved in the scratched surface of his memory, Eric’s fingers drumming a steady beat on his thigh. They end up registering for shared sessions, all too hesitant without the presence of the other and Sunwoo wonders if he’s overstepping any boundaries. It’s Eric who tells him to shut up mere moments after they leave the room, an eye roll and boop on Sunwoo’s nose as he mumbles a soft ‘I know that look’. Sunwoo thinks he’s never fallen that hard before.
Sunwoo is with Eric the first time his father shows up on their doorstep after finding out where his son was for the last three years. Eric’s roommate Juyeon had punched him hard enough to keep him away for a week, but the damage had been done anyway. Sunwoo cradled Eric like a baby that night, whispering sweet nothings into his hair as he desperately tried to soothe the deep scars impaled in the depths of Eric’s memories. The once sweet scent of cherries turned sour as Sunwoo cursed out the poor excuse for a man who dared call Eric his son. It’s Sunwoo who whispers a soft ‘not today’ when Eric asks if they could jump today, a soft kiss on his cheek and a tightening grip on Eric’s torso as Sunwoo coaxes him to sleep. Sunwoo learns Eric fell even harder as his shirt is bundled up and pulled in closer.
“At least let me have this?”
“You can have so much more.”
They were on the third floor of Eric’s apartment building when Sunwoo finally understood why people stayed alive. The light that filtered through Eric’s blinds that morning woke him up to find Eric staring at him, fondness dripping from his eyes as a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“Good morning,” he says, like the flock of doves that returned to Sunwoo’s spring after a harsh winter. Sunwoo smiles as he kisses him in lieu of an answer. Their relationship is an odd one that transcends all definitions of time, so neatly framed in their tangled bodies and breaths and Sunwoo just knows he’s stepping back for another day. Knows that no matter what divine force decides his fate had chosen to allow Sunwoo life for a little longer, shaping it in the form of Sohn Youngjae, who Sunwoo will cherish forever.
“Good morning to you too.”
5.
And then I wonder, what would the ocean say to sky it never meets?
What does the wind say to the underground burrows it never sees?
What would I be like, had the timeline gone the way it should’ve been?
They end up jumping at twenty three. It’s been four years since they’ve known each other, pinkies linked as Sunwoo stares at the dipping sun on the horizon and he can’t help but think how wonderfully poetic it all is, the way the air whistles in his ears as he falls through the sky by the side of the boy he loves. They find each other like two melodies dancing together in perfect harmony, melting into each other as Sunwoo smiles a content smile. The numbness is replaced by a different feeling, one that drowns out everything as findness engulfs Sunwoo’s entire being. They’re happy on paper, so blessed and successful in their endeavours. Yet a little deeper down, their relationship is one that transcends those boundaries, formed by one fateful night approximately three seconds from an alternate ending. A little deeper down is the doubt it’ll end in a worse ending, gnawing away at Sunwoo like a hamster. Eric soothes it everytime, a well placed kiss on the bridge of Sunwoo’s nose as he pulls him into the jump, refusing to let their ending happen any other way.
It’s not their promised jump, per se, more of a dive next to a waterfall as their friends cheer them on, but Sunwoo has always been one for loop holes. They whoop at the top of their lungs when the promise that brought them together is finally fulfilled, drowned by laughter and carefree joy as Sunwoo feels the rain clouds softening up.
They never quite go away, always spiking up at the worst times and drowning him in the angry roar of tidal waves. His throat never quite goes back to normal, the imaginary sting of his pseudo-brother’s pills running down his throat too many times to be considered normal, but Sunwoo isn’t one to care. Eric tells him it’s okay far too often, sometimes even when his own flames are eating him alive. Sometimes, Sunwoo will find him staring at the knives in their kitchen, the imprints of holding his brother’s body still seemingly fresh on his skin. Sunwoo will run his own hands along Eric’s arms with sweet nothings against his temples, a pressed promise of never leaving him behind to fend off the demons by himself. Their pact was fulfilled, sure, but only in the eyes of their friends. A reassurance, of sorts, because they’ve made the promise to last until their last moments, whenever that may be.
“Happy five year anniversary,” Eric whispers against Sunwoo’s chest one night, as the soft ticks on the wall clock acts as their lullaby. It must be past midnight, Sunwoo registers, brushing the strands of hair out of Eric’s eyes as he presses a soft kiss against his lips.
“Happy five year anniversary,” Sunwoo whispers back, staring at the way the moonlight paints galleries onto Eric’s fringe, still the same shade of blond from five years ago. The wind is blowing through the open window a little stronger through their little rented room in the motel, seeing as how they’re on the ground floor this time. The scent of the beach wafts through to cup Sunwoo’s cheeks like the cold city winds the first night they met, but the scent of cherries is all Sunwoo can sense. He presses a soft kiss to Eric’s forehead and sighs, willing the rain clouds to ebb for just one more night.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
+1.
The sun has to fall every night for the moon to rise
I asked you to jump with me so I’ll never lose your light
The one from the crescent moon beneath your nose stays bright
But the one in my soul eventually loses its fight
Will you dive with me, under the waves that eventually drowns us?
Will you die with me, stay the one part of me I can trust?
Will you jump with me, darling, when no one will notice?
Will you fly with me, to the end of this endless black mist?
…
“You can always take a step back,” Eric mumbles to himself, three seconds away from stepping off the ledge. There’s a grip on his arm, gentle but reassuring as he’s pulled away from the ledge. He sobs, unable to keep the tear in as the winds cups his cheeks. He looks up to find Sunwoo staring at him, eyes devoid of the anger, fear, pity and concern in his friends’ eyes, replaced by soft familiarity as his hands cup Eric’s face and pulls him closer. Their foreheads touch, breaths mingling with the cold night sky as Eric exhales shakily. The scent of strawberries fills the air as Eric tries to grasp for the strands of emotions again, pulling him back into the world as he sobs again.
“You can always take a step back.”
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