epilogue

150 11 3
                                    

He was done with guessing.

He was done with imagining.

He grew annoyed, always unsettled, always agitated.

"Let me know you," he closed his eyes as he whispers, "please."

In his hand, a slightly crumpled paper was secured in his fingers's embrace.

Bullies decided to open his locker and burn the other recent letters.

That locker was really a burden.

Only the special ones kept in his house were safe.

Someday, when he debuts, he'll make a search party for her.

Someday, he'll find Daerim.

With shaky hands, he neatly ironed the paper flat with his hands. He tried pressing it down on his lap, hoping the ugly lines that ruined the beauty of the plain envelope. But that's not how papers work.

▪▪▪

dear Hoshi,

hi~ it's been almost... three months since my first letter? wow. i hope you appreciate my everyday letters (even tho i skip some days hehe) not as if you liked receiving letters... bUT STILL IT'S HARD TO WRITE. but emails are a bore. y not spice it up. :D

in the span of three months, i grew attached to you. is that weird? is that-- ew. i would erase that by now but i'm too lajji.

i think it's time to know who i really am.

hi, my name is Park Haerim. i was a student in your school. i used to be known. but things changed, things happen.

this will be my last letter. goodbye!

sincerely yours,
Daerim, now Haerim.

▪▪▪

His heart skipped a beat.

For a minute, his gaze was glued on the corner of the paper where the closing remarks were.

Her real name was more beautiful than her code name.

It was her last letter?

But why?

Hoshi stood up and started to run. His feet seemingly had a mind of their own; running to where the heart desires.

He ended up facing the huge and tall oak door of the principal's office.

This is the time where he was thinking about retreat; aborting his, air-quote, mission.

Slowly, his hand rises uo to the level of the doorknob. The cold metal stung his hand; it was obvious no student dared to open the door, nor try to touch it. Not even think about what is inside.

Perhaps, he was the first?

The door creaked open as he gently pushed it. He believed that the loud creak echoed inside the quiet room.

He stepped a foot past the doorframe and in the room, later being followed by the other, going inside the room.

"Ah," the principal smiled, "a new face."

locker letters | kwon soonyoungWhere stories live. Discover now