Chapter 17

"I can't go today, Soobin. I'm sorry."

Another empty excuse as he pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up. Yeonjun sighed to himself before leaning back against the tree, pulling up the first name in contact, and pressed the dial.

One beep. Two. Then, three. Yeonjun grew exasperated. He'd grown to detest beeping noises, and this was unnecessarily getting under his skin. Yet, he didn't expect it to stop anytime soon.

"The number you are trying to reach isn't available right now, please try again later."

The automated voice sent him straight to voicemail. That didn't bother Yeonjun, anyway. Because it was exactly what he dialled for.

"Gyu, it's me again. I had a horrible day today." He sighed, putting the phone closer to his mouth. This had become a routine for him, visiting the park and leaving Beomgyu's phone number a voice message at the end of every day.

It had been another arduous year for Yeonjun. He'd graduated now, looking for his opportunity to start a career as a dance teacher. He had long dreamed of celebrating his graduation day with Beomgyu, the younger standing right next to him on that venue stage—dressed in a similar gown, wearing a similar hat, staring at him with the proudest smile in the world.

When he wasn't there, Yeonjun felt like he was on that stage alone, although hundreds of others were beside him. Feeling lonely in a crowded room was possibly the second worst feeling he'd ever encountered. Only Taehyun, Hueningkai and Soobin were there to celebrate it with him. Back then, he told himself that it was enough.

Ever since Beomgyu left, Soobin had been trying to spend more time with him. For once, they would meet outside the hospital, and Yeonjun was forced to realise just how normal the other boy looked without his lab coat. On lonely nights when the silence of his own bedroom had him in a chokehold, Soobin was there to soothe his uneven breaths. On days when Yeonjun's signature smile didn't reach his eyes, Soobin was the first to reach for his hand. When he took longer than usual to respond to a text, Soobin would almost always call him precisely an hour and a half afterward. Every single time, he was right on the clock. This time was no exception.

Except, Yeonjun made yet another lie. Today was one of those days, but strangely enough Yeonjun couldn't find the strength in him to fake another smile in front of Soobin. He knew the other boy would never say it to his face, but deep down he knew just how much of a hassle he'd been.

That was all he was—Choi Yeonjun, a burden. A failure.

He was never a patient at that hospital, but somehow it turned out that this nurse had been taking care of him for far longer, and far more attentively than he would those in his professional demand.

And God had Yeonjun felt like utter scum sometimes for always being dependent on him. He was the older one, but why was it that Soobin acted the part more than he did? When will he finally be able to live on by himself?

It was when he realised he wouldn't, that led him to the park—a bottle of pills in his coat pocket, a phone in the other. So now, he sat, knees hugged to his chest under a shrouded maple tree, leaving a voicemail to a number he'd spent half of his monthly wage paying just to keep open.

"Has it been long enough? Because I can't do this anymore, Gyu. It's becoming too exhausting, and I don't know if I have any more reasons to keep going. You're not here anymore, and I just—" he had to stop himself before he began getting all choked up. "I… I've given up."

With his free hand, Yeonjun reached inside his coat pocket and felt for a familiar cylinder bottle, grasping it tightly in his hold. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm still a coward." He continued, voice desolate.

With that, he hung up and tossed his phone aside. Taking a deep breath, Yeonjun allowed himself to look up at the sky one last time as he slowly pulled out the capped bottle in his pocket.

The sky was beautiful. It was a fine gradient of lilac, orange and pink—a breathtaking sight, especially seen from a park where no buildings were obstructing the view. The sky looked so vast, it made Yeonjun wonder if Beomgyu was up there staring back at him somewhere. It reminded him of the first time they went on top of the Ferris wheel, seeing the sky so close for the first time. Oh, how he would do anything now to relive that moment again.

He thought about how he would soon see his favourite face again, and a forlorn smile spread across his face. Yeonjun had planned this out for a while now, as shameful as he was to admit it. He'd done his share of research, looking for the right medication and ensuring the right amount of dosage it'd take to tip him over the edge. He'd sneakily asked Soobin a few questions whenever he visited him at his hospital, and Soobin would always stare at him with an odd look but paid no further attention.

Soobin. He dreaded that he had to leave the only person that would ever come close to what Beomgyu was to him. But he could no longer be courageous—or was selfish the more appropriate term?—enough to continue using the male as a substitute. Deep down, he knew that the void Beomgyu left, no one can replace. Not even Soobin.

And God did he try to prove himself wrong. He tried, and tried, but it was to no avail. The missing piece he was looking for had escaped him long ago just as when Beomgyu's last breath escaped him. Continuing to use Soobin for his cowardly deeds was not fair to him.

Yeonjun shakily inhaled. He convinced himself that this was the right thing to do.

He looked around. This area of the park had always been more secluded this time around. He waited for the last couple to leave the field before he held the bottle of pills in front of his face. He was all left alone now, just as he'd planned. All it would take were several pills and a single gulp. Then, he'd just have to lay back and close his eyes. Five minutes later, it would all be over—and the rest would be up to the universe. His suffering will finally end then.

However, as he uncapped the bottle, his eyes caught a brief glance of the park's clock tower. Why he thought to randomly check the time now, he had no idea.

It was 5:53pm. The sun was beginning to set, painting everything in its trail an overwhelming cast of molten gold.

Sunset had always been Yeonjun's favourite time of the day. Perhaps doing this now was the best possible way to send himself off. He sighed to himself as he spilled the contents of the bottle onto his palm, which trembled more violently than he would have liked to admit. He wouldn't even need water to gulp them down, he didn't care enough to bring any.

Just as he was above to chug it all down his throat, a loud 'crack' resonated from above him.