GET FREE [jaeyong]

[15]

[FIFTEEN]

"When the night was full of terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet, oh, take me back to the night we met. I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you. Take me back to the night we met."

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

"YOU can't run away from me forever, Tae, this isn't—"

The small boy ducked away from the voice, books held tight to his chest as he sprinted down the hallway. His sparkling eyes were burning and his vision was all blurry when he swerved between bodies and made a b-line to his next class that didn't begin for another five minutes.

He didn't understand why he kept trying. If he'd just leave Taeyong alone, just leave him to fend for himself and not torture him with the onslaught of heavy turmoil and memories that rose to the surface of his mind whenever he was around, things would be much easier.

Jaehyun could go back to being pretty and popular, like a perfect idol fit for a movie screen with his stupid designer clothing and dimpled smile, and Taeyong could return to being the isolated loner that didn't talk unless spoken to.

Taeyong always thought that he would want Jaehyun back—he'd daydream about having his best friend all to himself, a fantasized world where things were back to how they were meant to be. It'd be the times when they'd talk endlessly to each other into the late hours of the night when they were supposed to be sleeping, where they'd go for long walks together in the woods behind Jaehyun's house, where each brush of the shoulder was natural and smiling was easy—but now, that idea was scarier than ever.

He hadn't noticed how used he was to being alone until now. Until Jaehyun accompanying him was an actual reality and not some random yearning he had when lying on his bed in the dark and staring at the ceiling.

Maybe he didn't want his best friend back.

Because his best friend was Jaehyun: the dorky boy who got flustered often over trivial things. The boy who owned several vinyls and record players, and listened to alternative rock and indie music. He wasn't afraid to share all sides of him to anyone—good, bad, weird, or endearing.

His best friend spoke in human terms, soft and empathetic, and would tell Taeyong earnestly that the last thing he wanted was attention because it meant nothing to him. He'd wear sweats and joggers and hoodies all the time that it would be a shocker to see him in preppy clothes.

He didn't own any social media and distanced himself from anyone of the popular crowd, sticking to his small group of friends. He'd always confide in Taeyong about how much he wanted to go to a music festival and get lost in conversation about the world and what their purpose was on it.

He once told Taeyong, with a shy smile,

"I think your purpose is to help others. You're a healer, but you're also strong and capable of standing up for what's right. You're purpose has to be important, Tae, I just know it."

Then his own eyes widened and he said with a hazy grin, only half joking, 'what if my purpose on this earth is to be a stripper or something? I wouldn't mean much then, would I?'