Chapter 23: Patience

In one of his most vivid nightmare, he was standing. It smelled like leaves and rain but it wasn't a forest. There was a beautiful scenery, a blue painting of sky and everything was sunshine. Then he looked down and saw Seungri, holding on to a thin skin of earth. It was dark below him. I love you, Seungri's mouth didn't move but he could hear his voice just fine. Please.

His chest hurt and he blinked but Seungri's gone.

***

"I wish I could help," Hyunsuk sank on his chair, suddenly seemed so small.

Jiyong tried to smile. "You've done a lot."

"More," there were regrets spitting from his words. "I wish I could do more, Jiyong."

"You can't," because he knew, it's up to him. The decision would be his and should be his only.

"You'll stay around, won't you?"

"Where else will I be?" Jiyong asked no one. "But Seungri –"

"I'm not letting him go," Hyunsuk sighed. Neither should you.

"Wish me luck."

***

The messages didn't come anymore nor the photographs. But it didn't make him feel better. To be real, it made him feel emptier. He had nothing to hold against anymore but himself; but Seungri.

"I'm home."

He could feel Seungri's eyes on him, lingered stare that he would gladly exchange if only it's a different situation.

Or most likely, an entire different world, one that wasn't so fucked up.

"Have you eaten?" Seungri came closer, Jiyong felt the air shifted, he couldn't breathe. The first time he met Seungri, the air choked him too. He thought this was the best way to remember.

"Seungri," he turned around. Seungri stood near one of his collectible painting, waiting. "I'm letting you go, Seunghyun."

***

It was like a broken machine. It kept on resounding in the back of his mind, that if he closed his eyes long enough, colors would start squirming and picturing Seungri's face, the way Jiyong wished he'd never seen.

"Then goodbye."

Each time, Jiyong had different answer.

I don't want you to go.

Please come back.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

I can't let you go.

I don't want to hurt you.

Stay.

How about good luck?

I need you.

See you later.

I miss you already.

None of them was I can't say goodbye, like what he really did say.

***

He tried to get it off with songs. He preferred his room to stay messy, he wanted his music to keep on playing, he didn't allow himself to stop.

To be honest, he couldn't stop.

Because if he did, if he ever paused to see around, if he ever let one spot to be clean, he'd recall everything he's not supposed to have.

He'd want back everything he used to own; someone he selfishly claimed as his.

Because if he ever looked back, Jiyong would reach for Seungri in every chance he had and that's what he shouldn't do.

When he was offered a comeback, he had thought for a week, a full seven days that Hyunsuk nearly lost his patience. He almost said no but then his phone beeped.

We'll be promoting in Japan, for sure. This is your chance.

When Jiyong said yes, he never felt so sober in his life.

***

******************

***

He doesn't have tea. To be honest, he doesn't think he has anything to offer but his story and himself.

"Why?" Seungri's voice is broken and his eyes are closed as if it will dispel everything Jiyong had just told him; his last wall of protection so pain won't be able to reach him. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

Jiyong finds himself unable to reason. All these years, he thought he'd have at least thousand excuses for his act, yet he can't remember any now. "I couldn't, Seungri."

"But I love you," Seungri falls apart in his arms.

But I love you will be an excuse in a perfect world but not the one they're living in.

***

Jiyong doesn't know how he made it to bed. He doesn't recognize his surrounding at first but it's not hangover, he's sure. The blanket seems wrong, the sun peeking from the curtain isn't yellow, there's an alarm clock he doesn't own. For a moment, Jiyong thinks he's still dreaming. For a moment, he forgot about the scars.

"Seungri," he sits up abruptly, nearly threw himself to the floor.

But it's quiet and sound, only a faint scent of love draped itself around him like a cape greeted back as if he's not allowed to touch the past anymore.

***

Seungri didn't leave him a note.

And Jiyong doesn't know he's been looking for something until someone taps him on his shoulder, asking if he's lost. When he realizes he's in the elevator, he shakes his head and flashes him a smile he know will work. The man shrugs and gets out from the metal box, leaving Jiyong and his memory about how last night, as they're reaching his floor, Seungri's hand was warm and soft against his; how that felt so right.

***

"Sorry," he fidgets with his bracelet. "I know you're busy."

"I'm having five minutes break," Daesung sounds out of breath. He must be doing rehearsal. "What is that, hyung?"

"I talked to Seungri," Jiyong doesn't know if it's a good idea to tell him the day before his concert starts but after telling Seungri, he doesn't feel the need to hide anymore. "I told him everything."

"Hmm," Daesung sighs. "I'm not sure what do you want me to do."

"He left me."

"Left? Seungri?"

"Yeah, Seungri."

"It doesn't sound like Seungri."

"Maybe he's changed," Jiyong shudders at his own thought. "He told me that he was afraid to hear because he would have no more reason to cling –to think –about me, but maybe that's why he wanted to hear," his voice croaks; ugly. "Maybe he wanted to get rid of–"

"Hyung," Daesung's tone is steady, in a calm rhythm Jiyong envies him, always. "Wait, just wait."

"He left, Daesung."

"No," Jiyong hears the younger stifles a laugh. "It's Thursday."

"And?"

"And Seungri is busy on Thursday."

"I don't know."

"What do you know?"

Jiyong can't help but feeling offended. "Nothing, of course."

"Hyung," Daesung laughs, finally. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," he answers, then quickly corrects himself. "Everything I deserve to know."

"Then wait. Just wait."

***

It's not a note.

To be exact, it's the pillows on the sofa that stacked up on one side and two glasses of water on the table, untouched. Jiyong didn't see it at first, maybe because he was too busy looking for Seungri's presence that he forgot there were things of him that might left.

Seungri didn't mean to leave it, for sure.

But maybe that's how fixing things should be.

You look around for traces, for clues, for signs that make you believe it happened, it's remembered. You pick up the bits and pieces of leftover instead of holding one big empty frame.

Then you try.

And you wait.

***

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