Chapter One

Chapter One

September 15, 2022. 9:53 p.m.

“Just why the hell can’t you listen?? After all those times I tried pleasing you, this is what I’m left with? You just leave me here, standing in the pouring rain, and you don’t even give a damn??” I ask, fury burning up in me. I look skyward, feeling each and every drop of rain pour like tiny bullets on my face. “you know what? **** it. **** this whole relationship. It must’ve meant nothing to you, right?” I watch as Yoojung gazes at me with such a pitiful expression.

“fine. If that’s how you want it to be, then let it be. We were never really meant to be anyways.” He shouted from 3 meters away from me.

“and…that’s a wrap! Good work everybody! I’ll see you lot tomorrow,” the director said as the crew applauded us. Since Junji left for his tour in America, I haven’t heard from him since. And that was a year ago. I’d already graduated from uni by now, and I took a major of acting, since it was all I really desired to achieve in life.

I watch as the camera crew take down all the equipment from the set, the headlights of the cars and vans shining brightly within the deep autumn night that loomed above us. I hop into one of the vans and flick on the lights on the roof of the van, and God it was bright. I flinched away right when the light was on, and I could barely even see probably without squinting hard. I guess I was too used to working in that darkness the set had, to the point where I couldn’t handle such a relatively dim light.

Every time, after work; after any event, I’d message Junji, hoping for some answer, regardless of what it was. So what if its dry? I wouldn’t care at this point. I just needed at least a word from him. But still, nothing. Not a single response since the first month he’d left me for his tour. And I understand. I understand that he’s busy and he has other things to do, and I wouldn’t want to put him under any pressure for anything. But a year without a response? I feel like that’s too much.

I stare soullessly upon every message I sent to him, from when it was my first Christmas without him; when it was his birthday; when I finally got accepted to my job; or times when I just worried about him.

“Junji!! Guess what? I graduated today!!”

“Hello?”

“You must be rather busy, right?”

“If you read this, merry Christmas! I hope you enjoyed it…wherever you are…”

“Junji, if you’re there, happy birthday!!”

“I don’t even know if you ever read these anymore, but I just hope you’re doing alright!”

“I saw you on Billboard today! Top 50, right? Congrats!!”

And the messages go on, and on. Just reading them made me worry even more about him, even though he might not even be acknowledging me at this moment. I scroll up and up to our first messages with each other.

Junji: “so I see you really do care about me to the extent where you added my number, right?”

Me: “I just wanted to see if it really was you, that’s all.”

Junji: “Well that’s just boring. I thought you actually cared ;(“

Me: “Fuck it. I’m going to sleep now.”

Junji: “So soon? Don’t you want to catch up?”

Me: “Hell no. I’m leaving now.”

Junji: “Fine, goodnight, my Rie~ (and love you~)”

Just looking at each message, each word…each letter he sent. I wanted to cry at that point. I could already feel my eyes burning up with tears, until they already started streaming down my cheeks. Where the hell are you, Junji? I thought. As I sat quietly at the back seat waiting for the rest of the crew to come in, I watch as rain started showering down to the ground, each drop making a soft thump against the car window. The thumps started becoming a strong, drum that pattered against the tinted glass like the beat of a sweet tune. I then hear the gentle shift of the car door opening, which got me back to my senses. I immediately dried my eyes and tried to act as normal as possible, though it was physically impossible to do so in this state. I then move my glance over to who entered. It was Yoojung, the actor I was to work with in this show, and also one of my best friends that I’ve ever had. He then glances back at me. “Rie, you okay? Why are your eyes so bloodshot?” he asked with a tone of worry in his voice. “nah, it’s nothing,” I said, which was definitely a lie. “I guess I’m just tired. Acting can be tiring sometimes, y’know?”

“are you sure? Because if you need anyone to rely on, or at least to help you, then I’ll always be there for you to talk anything out. Besides, we’re gonna be alone in the car for a while. The others are busy getting some tteokbokki for this cold weather.”

“Well…there is something…You see, you and Jin Young are the only people who know I’m…gay. So you’re the only one that can understand me in this…”

“Then go ahead! I’ll listen no matter what!”

“So…before I came to the company, I had a boyfriend…and he was the famous, Kim Junji, as everyone knows him by. And our relationship was quite healthy for the circumstances between our personal lives. But…after he went for his tour in America, the both of us were never in contact anymore. Not even a message…and now, I don’t even know where the hell he is, or if he’s even doing alright or not,” I manage to say through sobs and tears. “So all I just want to know is if he’s okay, and if he just wants to end this relationship if it’s too much for him, ‘cause we can’t just break up without even saying anything to each other…”

I hear Yoojung give out a deep sigh, the look of empathy in his eyes just piercing through my soul. “you don’t deserve to be treated like such shit. Tell you what, tomorrow, I’m going to try finding Junji’s whereabouts, and when I do (or at least if I do), then I’ll tell you!” he says, rather determined.

As I gaze at him more and more, I start to burst into tears, the woe inside me taking over completely. “You need a hug?” Yoojung asks, his tone calm and gentle. I nod, as I might’ve really needed it by now. All I wanted was to just feel the warmth of someone’s arms after so long. Last time I’ve ever gotten hugged was…the day before Junji left me. When I was to see him off…and when we had our last kiss. All in LyOn’s Den…

The feeling of being hugged had never felt this needed in so long, which made me want to cry even more. Once again, I hear the car door slowly shift open, along with the chatting and blabbing of the rest of the crew. They were all holding a plastic cup in their hands, which I’m guessing was filled with tteokbokki, or fish cake skewers. Jin Young, the main director of our show then glanced at me and Yoojung, who were still in each other’s arms that time. “Rie, you alright? I don’t really see you in such a state of grief before,” he asked, quite concerned for me.

“He’s not really feeling too good. So let’s get him back to the flat as soon as possible…” Yoojung said. I then raise my head up from Yoojung’s shoulder and glance at Jin Young. “Trust me, I’m fine,” I say, rather sarcastically, even though I knew that he could definitely see how bloodshot my eyes were because of all the crying.

“Rie, you know that if you’ve got an issue with something; anything, you can always talk to us!” Jin Young said from the driver’s seat. As we drive along the darkness of the main street, I sit at the back, still sobbing even after all this time. I hadn’t dared to turn on my phone. Not now, at least. When I get home, maybe? But even when I did get home, I could barely even do anything at that point. All I did was isolate myself in my room, not wanting to ever come out again. It’d felt like I’ve been sleep-deprived for days, and yet I could barely even close my eyes because of how much was spinning through my mind. Throughout the cold darkness that engulfed me in my room, my eyes still lay wide open. I was pretty sure I was a mess at that point. Then slowly, very slowly, my eyes start to close, and I could feel my body become more relaxed than it used to. At last, I slept, even though it was mostly through tears and sobs, all that mattered was that I wasn’t tense anymore. It basically felt like I was dead, just I knew I’d come alive once again.

When I’d woken up, however, I noticed my body was still tense. I knew I barely gotten any sleep. I checked my phone to see the time. “6:40 a.m.” it read. Just then, I received a message from Yoojung, which I was rather confused by, because what would he be doing awake this early in the morning?

“Rie! Guess what??” he exclaimed.

Me: “What now? How are you even up this early?”

Yoojung: “I managed to find Junji’s whereabouts! (With the help of KB, of course…)”

Me: “You did?? How??”

Yoojung: “yep! I’ll send you the address.”

“********** St. Haebangchon”

Me: “Haebangchon??”

Yoojung: “Yep. What’s the problem with—oh. Wait. That’s where you two met, right?”

Me: “exactly.”

Yoojung: “well good luck, because I already booked you a train to go there this weekend.”

Me: “oh **** you.”

Yoojung: “love you, bye~”

Well now I’m fucked. I’m gonna meet Junji face to face this weekend, and I am not ready. Perhaps it’s because I didn’t see him in a while? Or maybe because I think he hates me? I’ll never know if I don’t try, right? The weekends are literally in two days, and yet, I wasn’t informed that I’ll be meeting someone whom I haven’t seen nor talked to in a year or so.

And here I am now, standing in the train station leading to Haebangchon. As I watch the train slowly pull up to my stop, I started feeling sick. I was sick with every sound; every crank it made, and I just felt nauseous. I glace at Yoojung, who was also tagging along with me. “you really sure about this?” I ask, doubtful that I should be going to see him or not after all this time. “definitely! I mean, I was the one who planned this, and besides, you miss him, don’t you?” He suggests.

“I mean, I do miss him…but what if he doesn’t miss me? What if he hates me now?” I ask.

“He wouldn’t, I’m sure! He was probably just…really, really, busy.” But no. He was wrong. Very, very wrong.

. . .

I stare blankly upon the train window, watching as me and Yoojung pulled up to Haebangchon station. Haebangchon, as I remember it, was a rather small country side. Nothing major had changed over the year I haven’t been there. It was still the old little town I used to live in, but all that changed was time. Time and my feelings towards this place. I’m sure, by the time I meet Junji face to face, all my feelings would’ve changed.

As we hopped out of the train capsule, I look back at the address Yoojung sent me. It’d seemed like the address close to LyOn’s Den. It was my old house. Though I now live in Seoul and am a rather popular actor, I still do pay the rent to this place. I just see it as somewhere to go whenever I’m off work, like a kind of hideout, almost. That, along with an abandoned church that sat near the outskirts of Haebangchon. It always gave this fairytale vibe that’d always get me whenever I step foot into it. And that feeling still haunts me sometimes, even though it can be such a beautiful feeling as well. We even passed by it at some point on the train ride. As I unlocked the main door, I felt as though I would be greeted by something bad…really bad.

I looked upon my surroundings. Just how I left it before I left last summer. Nothing seemed different. The furniture was all in place, all covered with a silky white cloth for protection. Everything was just as I left it since around a year ago…except one thing. A pale, white card that sat at the main table in front of the couch. I picked it up and turned it around, revealing an incredibly messy handwriting, like it was almost, and most definitely hurried.

“I don’t think we can go on like this anymore. Let’s end it here.”

As I read through each letter; each word; each sentence, my eyes were blurring. I hated what I’d just seen. Though it doesn’t specify who sent it, I knew it was Junji, judging by his handwriting and vocab. My heart had already sunken all the way down to my stomach, and all I felt was just emptiness. But even though, I still wanted to confront him in person. It can’t just end like this. It really can’t. And it shouldn’t. I’d always thought we were meant to be, and I still do. So I’m determined to convince him that I really do have time for him. I can’t let all those memories we had together fade into bygone ones. They’re too special to be treated like that. I slam the card onto the table and glance back to Yoojung. “do you have an idea on where Junji might really be in?” I ask him.

“You know the locals here, right? So then we can ask one of them! Do you know anyone in particular?”

“Umm…ah, right! The ajussi that lives across the street. Mr. Chanyeol. He was one of my wisest best friends I had here in Haebangchon. I absolutely loved and trusted him quite a lot. So maybe he knows where Junji could be!”

“Then let’s go ahead and meet him today. Right now. At this very moment.” Yoojung said with determination in his voice.

. . .

And here I see ourselves in Mr. Chanyeol’s front door, hope and anxiety running through our veins. I knock on the door of his vintage looking house, the floorboards already starting to form holes in themselves. No answer. I knock again. And the door bursts open, slamming open right on my face. “who’s there??” Mr. Chanyeol asks with an alarmed look on his face. Casual thing he’d do. I’ve gotten hit on the face by him a majority of times. It wasn’t not normal that he’d do that. “Oh. Rie. It’s been a while since I saw you around. Where have you been?” Mr. Chanyeol asks in his casual rough, old voice.

As I rub the part of my face that the door hit out of pain, I then glance back at him. “oh…umm…just visiting! Say, did you perhaps stumble upon a guy called something like “Junji” or anything? Because at the moment, me and my friend here is looking for him…” I ask, desperate for an answer. As I gaze at him more, his expression looks rather lost in thought, seeming like he was trying quite hard to remember the name “Junji.” His eyes then sparkle with a realization. “ah, yes! Is it the tall man with slightly blonde, long hair?” He asks. “Just who I was looking for,” I say. “do you perhaps know where or when you last seen him?”

“Just today. At the square—”

“That’s all I need. Thanks again, Mr. C!” I say, cutting him off as I run straight to the direction to the square.

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