Sitting with his back to his bathroom door, he clutched a letter to his heart. His letter. He heard his mother trying to get him out to talk even so he was unable to do anything. He couldn't stop crying. His heart ached dreadfully as if it had been robbed raw. He was suffocating, he had just lost all his bearings in a single message.

« You know Jisung, you're the only good thing that ever happened in my whole life, I love you, forgive me :) »

His day had started well like other days. He woke up unwillingly when he heard his alarm clock ringing. He had gone to highschool shuffling along under the pretext of becoming an influencer and therefore not needing to pass the final exam or whatever it was called.

The unique thing that seemed different to him : it was his look. The one he loved so badly that it tore his chest apart every time they stared at each other's eyes. The only man that he glanced at differently. This day, the man who daily haunted the brunet man's thoughts stood apart and peeked into the void.

Usually, it was him the loudest, energetic or funniest of their friends group. However, he seemed missing. Jisung had simply thought that he was ill and he intended to ask him about it that evening by message on Kakaotalk.

But it was sadly too late now.

The guy he loved had finished earlier that day, unlike him. He'd gone home and since then nothing. His heart had stopped beating. Before that, the oldest had sent his message. Jisung had left highschool, he'd even given up trying to finish his day and almost skip the two last classes.

He had run until his lungs burst, hoping that all this was just a tasteless joke on the part of the older man. But it wasn't. When he arrived at the scene, it was a cold shower for Jisung. The young man saw an ambulance and his body.

The body of the one who had loved so much that he could die for it a million times. Now it was far too late. In the distance, he heard a medical man officially announce the time of death.

— 16h56, my sincere condolences

He bowed to the parents of Jisung's beloved, who were surprisingly calm compared to the gravity of the tragic event that had just taken place, these words filled with sadness.

As the nurse announced the time of death, Jisung almost fell over, barely holding on to the tree that hid the scene from him. This scene, like a tattoo, will be anchored in his memory forever, and will only be erased when the youngest dies.

Finally, he had managed to summon up all the courage he had left to go and talk to his lover's parents. Deep down he sincerely hoped that this message was a mistake, that the person he had met was not him.

He walked timidly towards the house. He rang the bell with the same energy and it was an almost smiling mother who opened the door. She was holding a closed letter in her hands and emanating an unhealthy energy that immediately made Jisung understand why the older man had refused all this time to welcome anyone into his home.

— You're Han Jisung or one of their dumb friends ? asked the woman in a haughty tone that gave to the student a weird feeling

— Han Jisung

He replied curtly, hiding his sadness. She handed him the letter she held in her hands, which he hastened to take.

— Minho left that for you. I don't know what you are for him but I don't want to see you again anymore. Alright ?

— Alright Madam

She rolled her eyes and without adding anything more, the woman violently closed the door in front of the young man. As if to reassure himself, he began to think that her behaviour was a form of mourning. It was impossible for him to imagine a mother serene and peaceful living in the face of her son's death.

He dragged himself home. This time not because he didn't want to go to school, but because he'd just realised that he'd lost him forever.

The further he went, the more reality caught up with him. When he arrived home, fortunately no-one was there. He went upstairs and locked himself in the bathroom. Once that door was closed, he collapsed, inconsolable.

Tears moistened the tiled floor. The same tiles that sent shivers down Jisung's spine.

He read and reread his last message despite his foggy eyes blocking his vision. He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want any of this to be real. Not him. . .

Jisung's mother returned a few moments after her son. She had come as quickly as possible after hearing the news so as not to leave her child alone in his misery. She tried everything she could to get him out so she could talk to him, but he seemed unable to do anything. In the end, she left him alone.

After only a long moment, Jisung managed to calm down slightly. Enough to catch his breath at least. He then looked at the last thing Minho had left him. And he opened the envelope.

In it, there was a photo of him tearing up and two clumsily folded, handwritten sheets of paper. They were numbered, probably so that Jisung would understand how to read them.

The boy plucked up courage and read the letter.

[🥀]

« Dear Han Jisung,

You, my best friend. If only I had had the courage to talk to you earlier. You always seem so busy with other people, I always feel like you don't like me. . .

You know, I watch you. I'm always the first to notice when you buy new clothes, when you change your hairstyle or when you change your soap. That soap that smells so good.

Every time you look at me, I blush and it terrifies me. But I could live with that, just seeing you smile makes me happy, with or without me.

But still, if it were all you, I'd surely be the most fulfilled person this earth has ever known.

However you're not here all the time.

You know, Jisung, I really wish I could have stayed with you longer. I really wish I could still laugh with you or just see you happy. All good things must come to an end after all.

Please forgive me. It's not you I'm abandoning. I just don't feel like I belong. You're the only one who lets me feel anything. I'm alone the rest of the time.

At school everything seems fake and at home my parents always have more important things to do than realise that I exist. I should have gotten used to it by now.

You know, Jisung, I've never told anyone this, but my parents often shout at me for one reason or another. Sometimes, on their bad days, they go further than that. . .

Forgive me Jisung.

I'm just fed up, I feel like I don't belong here anyway. After all, with or without me, it's all the same.

Jisung, I love you, never forget that.

Keep writing and composing, I love your music and especially hearing you sing. That's all I ask.

Promise me you won't join me. I don't want to see you in the afterlife or I swear I'll kick your ass !

Jisung, forgive me, I wish I was stronger.

Lee Minho »

[🥀]

— I forgive you, sighed the man affected by the letter, clutching it to his chest and unable to stop sobbing.

[🥀]

5 years later

Sitting on a rooftop, he scribbled softly in a notebook as he gazed up at the sky, a wistful smile on his lips.

Even after all these years, he had only himself in mind. As promised, he had never stopped composing music, and had even joined a band with some lovely members.

And yet, every evening, he continued to look up at the sky and talk to it. The day he died was indelibly etched in his memory and nothing could make up for the loss of the person he loved most.

Yet he fights day and night to keep going. He waits impatiently for his time to come, but he wants to make him proud.

— Jisung, we've got to go! Announced a voice from behind the door that led to the roof.

— I'm on my way

The dark-haired man replied as he stood up. He then looked up at the sky, smiling with all his teeth.

— Minho, I miss you so much, but I'm holding on, I'll stay up for you !

He murmured these words before hurrying off to join his friends.