From the showery summer which concealed any enthusaistic rays of light from the boundless space above, to the penetrating wintertime, slicing faces and every exposed part with its inhospitable chill solely comprised of aggression, life in Seoul had never been mesmerisingly pleasing to me.
Especially when Joshua's away.
With the wrap-up of our first Asia Tour, this boy left for his hometown, Los Angeles, to enjoy quality time with his family and peers. And before he left he dropped everyone a note and to me of course,
"Jeonghan-ah, promise m-"
"To be nice to the younger ones and be good."
I replied too quickly, because that's what he always said prior to his short departures. It's been the same since our pre-debut days, and he's been repeating this so constantly that I remembered everything about this sentence. A brisk one, but full of genuine emotions.
By everything, I meant not just the caring words that never ceased to arouse frantic gallopings in the miniature me, but also his fine tone — tender and low tempo, every vibration attached to the very end of eternal placidity, potent enough to calm each unsettled thread of anguish but at the same time, incessantly brought about ringlets of ripples in the racing heart of mine.
And by everything, I also meant how well I'd known his expressions — all and every, apparent and unnoticeable. From his prominent veins, how they made their way to the very end of his jaw, a lethal feature which caught me off guard on stage whenever I barely took a glimpse of how much of a masterpiece it had been. Then my pupils would gravitate to his lips, observed how they curled beautifully against the pleasant syllables he produced, and now he would say,
"Jeonghan-ah..."
But the me right now would be too immersed into this appreciation — then his gentle and masculine nose, his eyebags, the soft parts that occupied his eyes whenever he's overwhelmed with joy and bliss...
And finally, his eyes.
The couplet of crystal spheres which resembled a pair of galaxies, astounding and alluring, captivating every unasked prey into its world of utter amaze, a place where fantasies gradually came true, where the occurances of only miracles and legends were permitted, where suffering and grief was constrained.
Only peace prevailed,
And love.
But there was no more Joshua. I strolled along the dormitory's corridor until I reached the end of it, unlike my usual routine of throwing doors open and a little boy would always frown upon witnessing it, I gently pushed the ombre wood and exhibiting was a guitar hanging on the light wall — yet there was no frowning boy. I ran my fingers over the components and fidgeted with the strings with absolute care, played a few improvised notes and hummed along. I sighed and glanced over to the organised desk.
Atop it was a picture of him, smiling my favourite smile and flashing his bright teeth, alongside his equivalently cheerful and accommodating family. I fixed my gaze on the boy in the centre, a beloved human being who deserved no slander or harm but ceaseless empathy and unrequited affection, whose uncertainty was often overlooked when he prioritised everyone else's before his.
This boy, whom I'd gladly pamper despite my seeming nonchalance, I whispered.
This boy.
So as the drizzle danced with jubilance, a wry smile escaped and it was perhaps beyond forever until I pay no heed to this favourite person of mine.
