🍞 Our bread smile 🍞 ✨️🍞 KIMCHAY AU✨️🍞

8. Missing them

They didn’t win the dance but they didn’t care. No one could care less about the end of the show between Kim and Porchay.

Kim was happy. He felt relieved. He had the sensation that a relationship is back, as fast as if they never had stopped talking before. It was strong and his heart was dancing under the rain. As much as they were quite messy at this dance together, now his steps were lighter in this house and after another day passed, the week is near the end. Only some days, only some hours which would pass so easily for Kim because he just had to cook and to let time pass through his soul, because he had nothing to be ready for.

He was surprised to be more excited about talking with his old friend than about cooking what he always had loved.

He was more worried about Porchay, about the boy who was stuck here when he didn’t want to, with someone he needed to play lovey dovey with because cameras wouldn’t allow them to have a safe conversation about their couple.However it was seen, there was a difference between the moment they arrived and the last night they had. Kim was surprised by how much it hurt to witness this Ten being able to tightly hug Porchay’s waist but when the boy just moved out of bed and decided to sleep on the sofa downstairs, something was looking wrong, so wrong.

He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t walk to him under those cameras. He couldn’t show how scared he was of Porchay’s state because he simply curled up on himself and as much as it looked as if he could be sleeping in a comfy position, Kim knew this one, he knew the way his Porchay was under the pressure of something. Something he had no idea about. The sadness was piercing through the screen.

He wasn’t the only one to understand the boy better than anyone.

—

“Chay…” Porsche whispered sadly.

He didn’t want to go to sleep. He had this pain in his chest and he was certain that his brother was feeling the same one. The awful sensation that the world is falling, that their sky would always be tainted by the mourning of the souls they weren’t ready to let walk away.

They would have never been ready to hear about their parents’, mother and dad, disappearance, to hear that their hearts didn’t even beat anymore. They couldn’t even think about it, they were too young, they were far from even knowing who they were first that their stability was smashed away. Accidents were called accidents because no one could have predicted them.

They stood strong together, they tried to be the shoulder they needed and even if they survived well together, Porsche felt bad.

He couldn’t sleep looking at his Porchay in this state. And no one would know and no one could know.

He sighed and hugged himself. His brother surely thought that he could go through this, that he could cry a little, hidden, or that it would be smoother than before. It wasn’t in the end, and he was proud of his boy trying. He was convinced that trying wasn’t bad but he couldn’t stand to be far away from him and not be able to do anything.

And when by inadvertence he saw people commenting that they didn’t understand what he was doing, that it looked weird, that he wasn’t the one for Ten, that they might have had a fight. When he saw how much people could just interpret images and create whole stories about someone else, he lost faith in humanity.

On this show, outside, on the streets, he had the bad after taste of thinking that humans would always consider less the real humans than the fictionals ones. As if Porchay wasn’t just like them, as if the only person they would respect was the one they would  create themselves or the one they could control in an imaginary world. When someone is fictional, it is easy to have thoughts about that person, but when that person is alive, breathing and living, it seems like they enjoyed more to taint a human’s reputation . It was easier to create stories fulfilling a satisfying, often weird, or dreamy narrative, even hurtful, than to just pass ways, because someone's life will always be someone’s life first of all.