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16

16

[Jeong Yunho]
> 23rd Mar 2023

      It was that day of the year. My birthday. I don't find any excitement in celebrating my birthday; and before you say "he's a wannabe who wants to stand out from the crowd" I'll tell you why I don't like my birthday. This deeply rooted resentment towards me, and everything tied to me, started when I turned eighteen. It was a phase where I was supposed to go through metamorphosis and conquer the world like an adult. I absolutely despised being an adult—people had expectations from me, they wanted me to become one of them. And when you've grown up with a really shitty father and a credulous mother, you don't know what is right and what is wrong. I was messed up in my own ways; mostly in my head, hearing voices echo all the time.

      The morning of my birthday was benign. Like any other day, the sun rose up against the clouds to shed its shine to the once darkened world; the sky allured with shades of blue and orange, hues blending perfectly to concoct an illusion of perfection. I woke up to heavenly scent of food, and a few minutes later, I heard it sizzle. I was deep in my sleep, snuggling with the blankets till I comprehensively opened my eyes to the world and jumped out of bed. In the kitchen, I saw his silhouette, his back faced me, and the sound of humming filled my ears.

      "Good morning," I groggily greeted him, walking into the kitchen. "You really didn't have to do all this."

      "It's our tradition, how can I let it die?" he replied with a gushing laugh, turning to look at me. "Happy birthday, brother."

      Half-brother. I thought. "San and the others are meeting for drinks later tonight, you can join us if you'd like to."

      "Sure," Jongho replied, "someone needs to take care of your drunk ass; you get quite foolish when you're inebriated."

      "I guess that runs in the family," I laughed it off, "I'll freshen up quickly so we can have breakfast together."

      We ate breakfast together, engaged in a small talk; it was mostly me asking him about his studies and the university, rarely about mother's health. He visits her whenever he gets time from university. He even carries my apartment's spare key with him, he's welcomed anytime here. We talked for a little while more, when he decided to leave. Regardless, while leaving, he said he'd come by at night to have drinks with me and the others.

      I let the day drag on after he left, feeling a little lonely, and consumed by despair. I played a little game: whenever I felt depressed, I swallowed down a bottle of beer, preferably any kind of alcohol. It was alcoholism. I really need to get a grip on my life. But the thought itself was far-fetched because I'm long gone from reality.

      Sometimes, the moonlight alludes you to engage yourself in your darkest desires—my darkest impulse is to drink till I couldn't anymore. I pictured myself lifeless, free from every responsibility; I am tempted to, tempted by the devil on my shoulder, who only curses my demise in my ear. Drinks after drinks, I was starting to wonder what I was doing with my life. We were all gathered at the same bar I witnessed you breaking up with your boyfriend. The same bar I frequented every alternate day because I was addicted.

      "My man's got a huge crush on her," San laughed, passing on the comment to Hongjoong and Jongho who were laughing along with him. "Seriously! He hates coffee and sweets yet goes there every two weeks to meet her."

      "And he's celebrating his birthday here?" Hongjoong smacked my arm, "buddy, you need to be there, with her."

      "I don't know," I mumbled, reading their faces glazed with anticipation. "Come on, guys. I really think that's a bad idea."

      "Spending your day with someone you love doesn't make it a bad idea; neither are you too selfish for having that thought," Hongjoong explained, "we won't take it personal, just say the word and we'll take you there."

      "Seemingly, I wouldn't want to waste this chance on meeting the woman who has made my brother fall in love with." Jongho remarked, putting his shot glass down and letting it clink loudly with the table. "What are we waiting for then, let's go!"

      It was almost the time for you to close the cafe when we arrived; little dimly lit, and scent of coffee remnant in air. We sat by the window booth. You took our orders, realised I was drunk. I wasn't really drunk, I was a little tipsy and just like that, I couldn't grasp onto my understanding too well. I deemed myself lucky for not acting out and doing anything that would embarrass me in your eyes. 

      This was the first time you were meeting my friends; Hongjoong and San introduced themselves, but Jongho held back. I had a feeling why he did, but I couldn't justify it. I introduced him to you and felt a pang of bitterness burning my heart when I said he was my half-brother. Jongho would glee with joy when he'd have to introduce himself as my half-brother to others; but ironically, I was just as ashamed to utter the word out with scorn.

      I really despised celebrating my birthday: it reminded me of my struggle growing up around a failed marriage between my mum and dad. Every time on my birthday, I would have this severe urge to disappear. But you, you made me want to stay and watch the night unravel an enigma of mine. The little gesture of yours, a small cupcake with the tiniest of candle on top of it—you made my birthday a little less shitty.

      Blowing out the candle, I wished, I made a wish for your well-being. My wishes have always been yours to keep; they're always about you. I wish I could wait a little longer. But I have to go. I drowned out the noises, stared at the cupcake, reimagined my life with and without you. I was close to crying, and I didn't mind shedding a few tears for you. Too dazed to figure my way out of my trance, I let it deluge me in deeper; lost again, the light at the end seemed bleak. You were dithering from me, away from my hold, away from my touch.

      The coffee I ordered had gone cold.