Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

thirty-seven ; yeonjun

I woke a broken life, but my body was whole. I’d expected some kind of gruesome surgical scene when I lifted my sheet to look, but the bandage was a simple square of gauze over my abdomen.

At first, a part of me was convinced it was just a dream, though I knew better.

Christmas came and went while I was in the hospital. Beomgyu and his mother had visited with presents and silly Santa hats. But it just made me more aware that Halmeoni lay in a coma down the hall. This was the first Christmas I’d spent without her in thirteen years.

Three days after being discharged, I had the first episode. A headache that started behind the temples and grew to a migraine within seconds until the pain became a nauseating wave. I barely made it to the bathroom before I was sick. I didn’t tell anyone. But when I passed out at the PC room, I woke up in the hospital.

They called it a seizure.

I’d been scanned and tested and had gallons of blood drawn. Everything showed that I’d completely healed, no blood clots, no tumors. A perfectly healthy boy who kept getting migraines so bad that I’d end up in the emergency room.

I spent New Year’s in the hospital. And I wasn’t liking this trend of celebrating my holidays in a patient gown. So with Lunar New Year fast approaching, I resolved to stave off the headaches.

It didn’t help that bills piled up from the hospital and late rent, and Soobin never came back. I waited to hear from him, convinced he wouldn’t leave without a word. Life couldn’t be that cruel, to have my parents abandon me, then my halmeoni so sick she wouldn’t wake up, and now Soobin had left. However, as the days, then weeks passed, I realized I’d been wrong to have such faith. Life wasn’t fair. It was a mocking master that yanked at the frail strings of my life until they threatened to snap.

•    •    •

“You skipped Sunday dinner,” Beomgyu said, plopping down beside me.

I didn’t look up from my computer screen. The click-clack of gaming filled the air of the PC room.

“My mom is starting to get worried. She might call your mother again if you don’t—”

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll come next week.” I still didn’t glance up from the screen.

“Halmeoni will be proud of you when she wakes up.”

I didn’t reply but my throat tightened as I clicked through the practice test. It was like a full-time job catching up on years of missed schoolwork. But I’d learned that the tactical mind I used for my gaming was actually pretty good at studying.

“Yeonjun-ah, don’t you think you should get some decent sleep? And some food?” Beomgyu leaned closer and sniffed, then scrunched up his nose. “And a shower?”

“Don’t bother, Beomgyu hyung,” Huening Kai said from the other side of me, where his screen announced his losing score. “I already suggested a trip to the jjimjilbang. It was a fail.”

“Like your father would even let you go to a public bathhouse,” I muttered.

“Yeonjun-ah!” Beomgyu chastised, and I knew I must have crossed a line. Beomgyu never took Huening Kai’s side.

“Second year is almost over. Once senior year starts next month, I won’t have time to catch up,” I reminded them.

“You need to take care of yourself, too, or you’ll burn out.” Beomgyu studied me. He’d changed his hair again this week. It was dyed in purplish color. It fit him. A face that currently watched me with deep concern.

“You slept at the hospital again last night, didn’t you?” Beomgyu picked at my wrinkled blazer. “Is it because you’re not comfortable at your place alone? You could stay with us. My mom wouldn’t mind and Tofu misses you.”

“No, my place is fine,” I insisted, my eyes never leaving my screen.

“Is it even your place anymore?” Beomgyu asked. “Your mother is paying the hospital bills. I’m sure she’d help with rent if she knew the landlord changed the lease from long-term to monthly. You know he’s trying to kick you out while Halmeoni is in the hospital.”

“I don’t need that woman’s charity.” I closed my eyes to ward off a growing headache. It had been hard enough accepting my mother’s help to pay the hospital bills. But Beomgyu had pointed out it was her duty as a daughter and mother to pay for it. But I’d refused to admit I needed more financial help for rent, especially when my mother hadn’t even offered to let me stay with her and her new perfect family. She had to know I’d say no, but still she hadn’t risked asking me.

Beomgyu turned me by the shoulders so he could look at my sallow complexion. “Yeonjun-ah, I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t need to be. I have everything under control.” I fisted shaking hands, stuffing them into my pockets to hide from Beomgyu’s eagle eyes.

“Maybe you should call.”

“I told you I’m not calling my mother.”

“Not her,” Beomgyu said. “Choi Soobin.”

Just the sound of his name made my heart ache.

“Why would you tell me to do that? You never really trusted him.”

“He keeps secrets. If he knows who hurt you—”

“I told you he wasn’t there when it happened. He found us after.” I hated lying to Beomgyu, but it was better this way. Safer to keep him in the dark.

Beomgyu shook his head, his eyes conflicted. “That’s not the point. I just think it would be better if you got some kind of closure. You’re so sad all the time, Yeonjun-ah. I don’t like it.”

“I’m not sad. I’m just busy.” I brushed off his statement.

“Don’t let your pride get in the way this time.”

“This time?” I scowled, pretending to read my screen but not absorbing any of the words.

“You think that if you admit you miss people, that means you’re weak,” Beomgyu said. “But maybe it will help you let go.”

“I don’t need your amateur therapy,” I said, clicking a random answer on the practice quiz and swearing when it came up wrong.

“I just care about you, Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said.
That was the problem. Jihoon didn’t want anyone to care about him. It only hurt more when they left.