darkcupcakes: Requiem of Winter Days (Part 2/2)

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+++

Yoochun’s condition started to change a few weeks after his birthday. While his treatment had initially kept the cancer from spreading, it seemed to be losing its effectiveness and the cancerous cells had resumed their growth. After I informed him of this new development, Yoochun lost a bit of his confidence and started withdrawing from others. He gradually stopped going to visit other patients and even stopped playfully flirting with the hospital employees. He began spending most of his time in his room, only leaving it once in a while to move his legs and get a bit of exercise.

I would often catch him sitting on a chair, looking outside almost longingly. To me, he looked like someone who had suddenly realized that what he thought had been a place to help him, had now turned into a prison. It saddened me to see him like this; so on a warm July day I walked into his room with a bright smile on my face and clapped my hands as I stopped at the foot of his bed. There was a book opened on his lap, but he had been staring into space instead of reading so he startled when he heard the clap of my hands.

“Yoochun, today, you and I are going outside,” I announced firmly. I walked closer to his side to get the book off his lap and pull his blankets away.

“Wait…what?” he asked, completely puzzled by my sudden visit and announcement. “Doc, I can’t go outside…what if I catch a cold?”

“I’ll make sure that you are dressed enough so that you don’t catch one, but don’t worry. I think that some fresh air and a bit of sunshine would actually be good for you. What do you think?”

“I..I guess?”

I smiled reassuringly at him and offered him my hand which he took as he moved to get out of his bed. I briefly left him standing so that I could pull the wheelchair closer to him and he sat down in it. I went to the small closet where his clothes were put away and pulled a warm sweater out. It was hot outside, but this was going to protect him in case a breeze was to suddenly appear. I handed the sweater to him, put a small blanket over his legs and then wheeled him out of his room. We took the elevator down to the main level, then outside to the terrace. There were a few picnic tables there, and parasols were opened wide to protect from too much exposure to the sun.

I told him to wait for me for a moment and left him alone on the terrace, placed half in the shade of a parasol and half exposed to the rays of sunshine. I saw him close his eyes and then a hint of a smile formed on his lips. It took me a few minutes to go get what I needed and then return, and when I did, I had a picnic basket in my hands. I walked to one of the tables and started taking the containers of food out. Yoochun must have heard the noise because he slowly reopened his eyes, blinked a few times and then wheeled himself closer. His eyes widened when he saw what I was doing and he glanced at me in wonder.

“I thought you and I could have a picnic,” I explained with a laugh when I noticed his shocked expression.

“But what about your other patients? Aren’t doctors supposed to be extremely busy?” he asked, but was already moving to get out of his wheelchair and onto the bench.

“We are extremely busy, but I’m on my lunch hour right now and I have my pager with me at all times so if there is an emergency, I’ll be notified. Don’t worry about these things Yoochun. Just focus on getting better okay? Are you hungry?”

“A little bit,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “Doc, why are you doing all of this for me?”

He seemed hesitant as he asked and when I turned to look at him, he just averted his gaze and focused it on his hands instead.

“Because you are a bit more special than the other patients to me Yoochun and because it is my duty to make sure that the knight I serve is healthy enough for battle,” I replied and winked at him.

My answer made him look back up and roll his eyes. He even reached out and gave my upper arm a light punch, and muttered something about me being an idiot, but at least he was smiling. I started opening the different plastic containers and eventually sat down across from him. He was now eyeing everything with interest and pointed at a rolled omelette with his pair of chopsticks.

“Did you make all of this?”

“I did. I don’t know if it’s going to be as good as your mother or Jaejoong’s cooking, not that I would know how good it is because I’ve never tasted it, but you have and I know you love when they cook for you, but I did my best. I’m not a very good cook though so I apologize in advance if it’s a bit too salty or if I accidently put sugar instead of salt,” I answered, falling into a small ramble as was often the case when I felt nervous.

Yoochun didn’t say anything more though. He simply picked up a piece of the omelette and ate it. I watched his reaction intently and saw the evolution of his feelings just by the expressions on his face which ranged from doubtfulness to surprise to pleasure from the taste. I let out a sigh of relief and started eating as well. We spent the rest of my lunch hour talking, eating and laughing until I had to cut it short after being paged.

+++

“What does your apartment look like?” Yoochun asked me when I came to check up on him on an August evening.

I glanced at him with an amused smile and then back at his charts. “Why do you want to know that?”

“You’re a doctor and I’m curious. Do you live in one of those overly priced and luxurious apartments? Or maybe you live somewhere that’s the size of a cupboard. How is it decorated inside? Is it all modern without anything to give it a feel, or is it full of little souvenirs and pictures?”

“I find your sudden interest for interior design quite amusing,” I told him and laughed when he frowned and pouted.

“I’m serious! I really want to know. You can learn a lot about a person by knowing what their house is like.”

“Alright, well, if you must know, I don’t live in a luxurious apartment, but I don’t live in one that’s the size of a cupboard either. I have a two-bedroom apartment that’s not too far from here. When you step into the hallway, you have a high chance of tripping over strewn shoes. It’s even more dangerous when you are in a hurry. My living room only looks tidy when I know my parents are coming to visit or when I want to impress someone…”

“You mean when you want to score with a chick,” Yoochun cut me off.

“That’s not what I meant at all…moving on. As I was saying, my living room, well my couch always has a throw blanket, rarely folded. My coffee table is often covered with magazines, books, empty cups of coffee and empty bowls of treats.”

“What about your bedroom?”

I looked up from my clipboard and pressed it against my hip as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and shook my head. I cleared my throat and tried to deflect the conversation to another topic such as Yoochun’s current test results, but it went completely ignored which I had been expecting, but had hoped wouldn’t happen.

“C’mon doc, tell me please? Otherwise I’m just going to assume that you have things to hide. Like, oh, maybe you have a shrine of someone in your closet or worse, maybe you have a small lab where you create potions and ointments out of dead people.”

“Yah, do I look like a murderer to you?” I asked him in disbelief. I had always been amazed by the things Yoochun could come up with at times.

“You never know Yunho. It’s the most innocent ones you have to look out for…”

“Alright, I get it, but I’m telling you right now, there’s nothing exciting about my bedroom. I have a queen-sized bed in there and a walk-in closet, but that’s about it. My desk is in the other bedroom as I am using it as an office. I rarely take the time to make my bed.”

“So basically you’re messy. I didn’t picture you as the messy type,” he commented, sounding thoughtful.

“I can clean up after myself Yoochun,” I assured him with a roll of my eyes. “Are you done with this little interrogation?” I saw him shook his head as a grin spread on his lips and he held up his hand with one finger raised to show he had one more question. I sighed, but motioned for him to ask away.

“Are you married? Or maybe you have a girlfriend? Oh, is it a boyfriend?”

My eyes widened and I definitely considered not answering and just walking out of his room, but I had already developed a soft spot for Yoochun and was having a hard time refusing him things he was asking for.

“I’m single,” I finally answered after a moment of silence.

He choked on the sip of water he had just taken and ended up coughing while slapping his chest with his free hand. “What? But you’re so hot!” he exclaimed after having regained his breath. His cheeks turned red when he realized what he had just said and he started mumbling excuses.

“Yeah well, you don’t get to be with someone just by looking hot,” I laughed and took a moment to sit down and continue this conversation with him. “What about you? Do you have someone in your life? Is it Jaejoong? And how about you tell me about what your dream house would look like?”

This is how I learned about the special relationship between Jaejoong and Yoochun and how even if it looked like they were together, they actually weren’t. Yoochun also described in great detail the kind of house he dreamed of having once he was a successful adult. He insisted that he wouldn’t accept living in a house that didn’t have a piano and at least one wall of bookshelves. According to him, it had to be very spacious, with huge windows to let the sun in, but also to be able to see the snow fall in winter. He said that it was more romantic that way. He also said that he didn’t want a house that would look too empty, too cold as if no one was living there. A house after all, wasn’t a place to store cold statues, but rather to provide shelter to living human beings.

I ended up learning a lot about Yoochun in the weeks that followed. He didn’t particularly enjoy talking about himself too much though and preferred to ask me questions instead. I found myself sharing bits and pieces of my life with him, things I had never really told anyone before and dreams about a different future I had forgotten about.

I’ve always treasured the fact that Yoochun had put such trust into me that he was willing to open up and share his thoughts and dreams with me. I was grateful that he had deemed me worthy enough to be allowed into his world, his life, as more than just a doctor, as a friend.

When September came, I often found Yoochun crying when I was checking up on him. He was always curled up on himself and trying to be silent, his face buried into something. Sometimes it was his pillow, other times it was a big sweater or a soft blanket. I tried many times to talk to him and cheer him up, but failed greatly and only managed to make him cry more. He only confided to Jaejoong whenever his best friend would visit.

I just assumed that it was caused by the change of weather and how a lot of people get a little depressed around that time of the year. I selfishly refused to admit to myself that this was probably caused by his cancer and that maybe he had started to realize that his condition wasn’t getting any better, but instead getting worse.

+++

Yoochun’s hair never grew back.

It was a windy, but sunny fall morning when I went to work that day. It was the beginning of October and Yoochun had been a patient at the hospital for just a few days over six months now. The first thing I noticed when I got on our department floor was the commotion. The nurses were running back and forth between their station and the portion of the hallway to my right. I managed to stop one of them and asked her what was going on.

“Oh, doctor Jung! It’s Yoochun, I think…I think we’re losing him,” she said, a hint of panic in her voice.

I paled and ran, shrugging out of my coat as I went, throwing all my stuff on my desk chair as soon as I got into my office. I put on my sarrau and took the time to thoroughly wash my hands before running back out of the door and all the way down the hall to Yoochun’s room. I instantly took command of the situation and ordered a nurse to go call his family. She nodded and left the room in a rush. I asked the other nurse to fill me in regarding his condition as I stepped closer to his bed.

Yoochun’s face was covered with sweat and he was shivering. His eyes were closed, but his lips were slightly parted and his breath was coming out broken as if it were hard for him to breathe. I hovered above him and pressed my hand against his forehead. He was burning. The nurse explained that his health had started deteriorating during the previous evening and so they had given him some medicine to treat the fever with the authorisation of the doctor who was working on the unit at the time, but instead of getting better, Yoochun just kept getting worse and when they looked at him again a few hours before I got to work, they realized that he didn’t have just a simple fever, but pneumonia.

It wasn’t unusual for cancer patients to get pneumonia, but it was always a big danger, something that needed to be treated right away as it could be fatal. I knew that Yoochun had been getting weaker from the chemotherapy sessions and I wasn’t sure his body would be able to fight the infection, even with the help of antibiotics and/or other procedures. I still ordered out what treatments were to be given to him and the nurse left after nodding to go prepare the medication.

I stayed at the side of his bed and after a moment, slowly reached out to take his hand, and I gave it a light squeeze. It felt so small, so fragile in mine. It took a few minutes for Yoochun to open his eyes and I could tell it was difficult for him to do so as he was squinting and blinking, his hand tightening in mine. His head lolled to the side and I wasn’t sure if he could see me or not, if he thought he was hallucinating because of the fever or if I was actually real.

“Yunho?” he croaked out and I nodded, clearing my throat.

“Yes, I’m here,” I replied clearly, hoping my voice was as reassuring as I wanted it to sound.

“I think…I think I’m dying,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I should have denied it. I should have told him that no, he wasn’t dying, that he was going to get better and that he would soon be out of this damn hospital and out into the world again, laughing with Jaejoong and meeting new people, but I knew he would have known this wasn’t the truth.

I took a sharp intake of breath through my nose and exhaled shakily.

“Yoochun….I’m sorry,” was what I managed to say, keeping hold of his hand.

Sorry that I had promised him six months ago that he wouldn’t die, that we would be fighting this together, side by side, and that we would both come out of this dreadful battle victorious. Sorry that I had not been able to provide him with the chance of a wonderful future. Sorry that even now, I wasn’t able to bring myself to tell him that I was in love with him because as his doctor, I still had protocol to follow and I believed it was some sort of unwritten rule that doctors were not allowed to fall in love with their patients. Sorry that I was a coward while he was the most courageous young man I had met in my life. A part of me hoped that he could see, that he knew how special he had became to me.

“You did all you could,” his voice cut through the stale air of the room and he shifted with difficulty. “It’s not your fault.”

He really looked at me then, his feverish brown eyes meeting mine, and he slid his other hand over. I reached out to take it in my free one. I ran my thumbs over the skin of the back of his hands and he smiled at me. He didn’t look panicked at all. It was like he had already accepted the situation and was prepared for the end. I couldn’t tell if he was actually terrified inside and just putting up a front. I hated it.

His family and Jaejoong arrived to the hospital not too long after that. His mother rushed to his side, her face already covered with tears. His brother looked terrified and about ready to pass out. Jaejoong was trying not to cry, trying to be strong, but his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth and he was gnawing at it nervously.

The three of them all had a chance to talk to him. I had made a move to leave in order to let them have some privacy, but Yoochun’s grip had tightened around my hand and I realized he didn’t want me to leave, so I stayed, but tried to make myself discreet. It was hard for Yoochun to talk, but he did, forcing himself to whisper reassuring words to his family, to his best friend until he said he was tired and he closed his eyes again.

His death was officially announced at 5:47 on the afternoon of October 4th, exactly four months after his nineteenth birthday.

When I finished work that day, I eventually ended up on Changmin’s doorstep, knocked on the door and sank to the step, what little energy I had maintained until then finally abandoning me, just as he opened the door.

“Hyung? What are you doing here? What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling his t-shirt over his naked torso, his facial expression changing from annoyed at being disturbed from whatever it was that he had been doing before I arrived, to genuine concern upon seeing me.

I didn’t answer. My voice refused to come out of my throat. I sniffed back a sob, which caused my lips to tremble and my eyes to water even more. I saw Changmin crouch down next to me, out of the corner of my eyes, and felt his hand settle on my shoulder. I turned toward him and buried my nose against his chest, felt his arms wrap protectively around me and that’s when I finally let the barriers go and cried.

I don’t remember how long we stayed there in his doorway or how he managed to get me inside. I vaguely remember him whispering to a girl who nodded and kissed his cheek before leaving his apartment. Everything was a blur.

Changmin didn’t ask questions. He prepared a bath for me and stayed in the bathroom, his gaze not once leaving mine and I believe that’s what kept me from sinking. His eyes were my anchors. He lent me a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt and took me to his bedroom. We laid down together, he behind me, his head propped up on one elbow. I curled up on myself and buried my face in his pillow, hiding the tears that had started to escape my eyes again, muffling my pained sobs. His free hand gently moved over my back and combed through my hair, his presence reassuring, until I fell asleep, exhausted.

+++

I went to pay my respects to Yoochun’s family when the time came. The picture of him among the flowers was one of Yoochun I had never been able to see before, one of him healthy. He was glowing in the picture, eyes bright with mischief. His cheeks were round and high and he had a beautiful smile.

I had hesitated a lot before going. I wasn’t sure if his mother was angry at me for not being able to save her son. This was a possibility and I had prepared myself to be yelled at, but when Yoochun’s mother saw me, she took my hands in hers and squeezed them. Her eyes were bright with tears, but she gave me a small smile.

+++

I kept myself busy with work, taking care of my patients to the best of my abilities as a doctor. I saw some of them win their battles and go home to their families and I unfortunately had to witness some lose their battles. Days morphed into weeks and weeks into months and there was not one moment where I wasn’t thinking about Yoochun.

When it snowed for the first time that winter, I imagined how he would have reacted. I pictured him being excited at the sight, but complaining about the cold later on and the thought made me smile, albeit sadly. Christmas was particularly hard. I tortured myself with thoughts of what could have been if Yoochun had been alive, healthy, out of the hospital, if I had had the guts to tell him that I loved him.

And then the phone call came, exactly four months and two days since Yoochun’s death, on February 6th, on my birthday.

Changmin had insisted on taking me out for the occasion and we were to spend the entire day together. We were at our favourite café when my cellphone rang and I frowned when I saw a number I didn’t recognize flashing on the screen. I usually would have ignored it, but considering it was my birthday I thought maybe it was someone who’d want to tell me their birthday wishes so I pressed the talk button and put the phone to my ear, running a spoon into my cup of coffee with my other hand. Changmin was looking at me curiously.

“Hi, Yunho speaking,” I said before clinking the spoon against my cup.

“Dr. Jung? I am sorry to call you like this on your day off, but I called the hospital and they gave me your number and…”

It was a female voice on the other end of the line and I frowned, sitting up a bit straighter and setting the spoon down on the table.

“I’m sorry, but may I ask who you are?” I interrupted her and heard a nervous laugh in the speaker.

“Oh yes, yes of course I’m sorry. This is Mrs. Park, my son Yoochun was one of your patients?”

I stopped breathing and I must have paled considerably because Changmin shifted on his chair and asked me if I was alright. Was I? I wasn’t sure, but I nodded anyway and cleared my throat.

“Oh, yes hi Mrs. Park. Is...Is everything alright? I mean, is everyone healthy?” I stuttered out, feeling nervous.

Why was she calling now? Why today on my birthday of all days! I was trying to come up with a good reason for her phone call, but I couldn’t think of one. I sincerely hoped that she wasn’t calling me because Yoochun’s brother or herself were sick.

“Yes, we are, but I should probably tell you the reason I am calling out of the blue like this.” I heard her take a deep breath before she continued. “Not too long after my son’s death, I received a phone call from a notary who informed me that Yoochun had left a will behind. You can imagine my surprise upon hearing this. I had definitely not expected my nineteen year old son to prepare for his death.” She sounded sad now and I had no doubt about how it must still be hard for her to talk about Yoochun.

I didn’t say anything and let her continue.

“The notary told me two things. The first one was that I was not allowed to get rid of anything belonging to Yoochun until after the reading of his will. The second thing was that the will had to be read on February 6th, at our house, and that you absolutely had to be there. As I said earlier, I am extremely sorry for calling out of the blue like this, you are probably busy and I know it is a strange demand, but do you think it would be possible for you to visit? I don’t know why my son wanted you to be present, but it was his will and so I am following it.”

I shifted on my chair and looked at Changmin. ‘Pen’, I mouthed and watched as he frowned even more before reaching for his bag and rummaging around in it, handing me a pen after a moment. I mouthed him a thank you and returned to my conversation.

“I...I’m very surprised, but I’m actually not working today so I can come over without a problem. May I have your address?”

She gave it to me and I promised I would be there in about half an hour as it wasn’t too far from the café. I apologised profusely to Changmin and told him that there was somewhere I really needed to go to but that I would call him later and that we could celebrate my birthday appropriately. I made him promise to buy me a cake and after some grumbling from his part and a dismissive wave of his hand, I was rushing out of the café and on my way to Yoochun’s house.

I arrived there thirty minutes later, as promised, and blinked when I got out of my car. The house was small and quite simple. I pushed the small barrier door open and followed the path to the porch, searching for the doorbell and ringing it when I located it. I heard a dog bark and then it was silent again. I jumped when the door opened on Mrs. Park. She looked tired, but she smiled when she saw me. I bowed in greeting and when I straightened back up, she invited me inside.

I felt oddly out of place. This was making everything too personal. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I had only been Yoochun’s doctor, not his best friend, or his boyfriend. I was used to meeting the families of my patients dressed as a doctor, or wearing a suit like I had at the funeral, not wearing casual clothes like I was then. I removed my boots and followed Mrs. Park further into the house until we reached the living room. There were three other people there. There was an old man who I assumed was the notary, Jaejoong and Yoochun’s younger brother Yoohwan who was petting the head of an Alaskan malamute.

I bowed again and shyly took a seat on the couch after Yoochun’s mother told me to. It was so surreal. I glanced around and noticed a piano nearby. The keys were used and the piano looked old. Stacks of sheets of paper were covering the top of it between frames with pictures in them. Pictures of Yoochun with Jaejoong, of Yoochun with Yoohwan, of Yoochun with people I had never seen before, probably friends or other family members. I felt my heart squeeze and so averted my eyes and returned them to the notary who was now clearing his throat and getting some papers out.

“Everyone is present? Good, I will now proceed to read the will of Mr. Park Yoochun,” the notary announced and then started to read.

Hey mom, hwannie, Jaejae and Yunho,

If the notary is reading this to you, then it means I’m not with you anymore and I’m sorry for causing pain to all of you. This is not easy! I have absolutely no idea what kind of stuff you’re supposed to write into a will. I apologize in advance if it’s not very, how should I say, formal enough?

Anyway, on with what’s important.

To my best friend, my soul mate, Jae-darling, I leave all of my music. Everything I’ve written, whether it’s finished or not, I’m giving it all to you. Most of it should be on the piano, but there should be some folders and what-not in my room somewhere. You can use them, all my compositions. Please use them. Add your own twist to the unfinished ones, complete them and I hope that maybe you can help show some of them to the rest of the world. I’m also leaving you all of my CDs and every single little thing that’s related to us somehow. You’ll know. I can’t list them all, it would be too long.

I looked up and glanced in Jaejoong’s direction. He was biting his bottom lip and holding himself tightly, trying not to cry but failing miserably at it as fat tears were rolling down his cheeks and dropping onto his t-shirt. The notary continued reading what Yoochun had decided to leave to his mother and his brother, which was pretty much everything else that had belonged to him. He had written that they were free to do whatever they wanted with his stuff, but that they were not allowed to get rid of the piano, ever. His reason was that Yoohwan may one day have a musically-inclined child who could turn out to be a musical genius and as an ‘uncle’ his role was to make sure his nephew or niece would have the best of the best, and according to Yoochun, the best piano was actually the one currently in this living room. I knew my turn was next and I took a deep breath.

To Yunho, the best doc on this motherfucking planet (sorry mom, I should watch my language I know, I know), you probably wonder why you are in this will right? Well, obviously, it’s because I have things that I want you to have. Why? Not going to tell you here. One of the things I’m leaving you is going to give you the answer you’re looking for anyway. First thing is my beloved scarf. You might want to wash it before wearing it. It’s probably still full of germs, but yeah. It’s going to keep you warm during the long winter days and I bet you still haven’t bought one even though I told you to!

It was true. I hadn’t bought a scarf to protect myself from the cold. My reason had always been that it would be useless to have one as I barely spent any time outside, but this was going to change now. The notary paused his reading to hand over a neatly folded scarf, a chunky knitted thing that was probably three feet long judging by the height of the pile formed by the fabric which was being held in place by a ribbon tied around it. I ran my fingertips over the soft fabric and felt my throat close up.

The second thing is a DVD and it’s my special birthday present to you because today’s your birthday! Happy 30th birthday you old man.

I felt four pairs of eyes turning in my direction and the intensity of those gazes could have burned holes through me if they had been lasers instead of eyes. I felt my cheeks heat up from the attention and offered a shy smile.

“Fuck…” Yoohwan said.

“Damn Yoochun, not cool,” Jaejoong muttered under his breath.

The notary handed me a small plastic case with a DVD inside and a simple ‘For Doc’ scrawled in Yoochun’s handwriting on top of it. This was the end of the will. The notary packed his things and politely excused himself. Yoochun’s mother walked him to the door and we heard the door close after a few minutes. Jaejoong and Yoohwan were still looking at me and they looked like they had no idea what they were supposed to say. After a moment I stood up, just as Mrs. Park was returning to the living room.

“I should probably go as well,” I said softly, surprised by how calm my voice sounded.

“Doctor Jung, I’m really sorry,” Mrs. Park told me with a sad expression on her face. “I had no idea today was your birthday. I never tried to find out why Yoochun had chosen this date.”

I reassured her with a smile, told her it was okay, that she couldn’t have known and let her walk with me to the door. I put my boots back on and pressed the scarf against my chest after slipping the DVD case in the pocket of my coat. Before I could leave though, she pulled me into her arms and hugged me tightly. When she let me go, she looked at me in a way that made me feel like I was her son and she was sending me to the army. It was a strange thing to witness. I wished health to her and the family and left.

Once in my car, I took a deep breath and pressed my forehead against the steering wheel. It took me a moment to regain my composure and feel well enough to drive. It took me a while to decide where to go. A part of me felt like it would be better not to be alone to watch the DVD because I wasn’t sure what I would see and wasn’t sure if I would be strong enough to deal with the whole thing. So I wondered if calling Changmin right away and going to his apartment would be best, but in the end, I chose to go to my own apartment. It felt like this would probably be best for me to watch Yoochun’s gift alone.

As soon as I got to my apartment, I kicked my boots off and didn’t take the time to remove my coat before going straight to my living room. I gently set the scarf down on my couch and walked up to the DVD player. I grabbed the TV remote and turned it on. I did the same to the DVD player and took the plastic case out of my pocket. I opened it and carefully placed the DVD into the player. I walked back to my couch and set the remote down on the coffee table before shrugging out of my coat and sitting down just as the ‘movie’ started.

The image was a bit shaky at first, but then it focused and Yoochun’s face appeared on the screen. He looked as thin as he had been during his stay at the hospital, but he had hair. Long brown hair that was framing his face and he was sitting at a piano. After seeing the one at his house, I could tell that the video had not been filmed there, but then where? He had an elbow on the edge of the piano and his chin cupped in his palm and he was making a face as the camera kept shaking a bit.

“Are you done setting this up? It’s taking you forever and YAH! Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry Chun, it’s just…the hair, you look like a girl.”

“Jae I swear to god, if I wasn’t sick, I would totally be kicking your ass right now.”

The image finally stabilized and it gave a good view of Yoochun sitting on the piano bench. He was wearing jeans that seemed too big for him and an oversized sweater that was falling off his shoulders. He was wearing the scarf that was now in my possession. I didn’t see Jaejoong on camera, but knew that he was leaving as Yoochun’s gaze on the screen followed an invisible presence and then refocused on the camera and my breath caught in my throat as it looked as if he was staring straight at me.

“Hi Doc. normally, you should be seeing this on your birthday and I wanted to give you something special. I’m sorry that I can’t personally be there. I would have loved to. It would have been hilarious to make fun of your old age.”

He paused then and chewed on his bottom lip then. He looked sad.

“I wish we had met under other circumstances. I often thought about how we could have met outside of the hospital and realized I don’t really know a lot about you. I tried to learn as much as I could, which is why I kept asking you questions whenever you would come check up on me, but there are still a lot of things I would have loved to discover. Things such as whether you pick onions or mushrooms out of your food, or the way you look when you wake up. Do you look as perfect so early in the morning as you do during the day?”

He grinned then and it was that sleazy grin I had seen him give to some of the nurses in the beginning of his stay at the hospital, a mix between flirty, playful and sexual. I felt a shiver run up my spine.

“I wish I could have been close enough to you to meet your friends. It would only have been fair considering you met mine, or well, one of them. I think I would have gotten along with your best friend, the one who you told me made fun of your hair once? Do you think he would have liked me, approved of me? Anyway, enough talking…I think my gift to you is going to say everything that must be said. I’m going to play and sing something for you. It’s not something I composed myself, but I hope you will like it anyway. I am planning on adding my own twist to the song though. Yunho, this is your song…”

Yoochun stopped talking then and positioned himself in front of the piano. He made sure that the microphone that was nearby was to the right height and was working properly. He then cleared his throat and set his fingers over the keys. And then he started to play, and sing.

“It’s a little bit funny this feeling inside
I’m not one of those who can easily hide
I don’t have much money but boy if I did
I’d buy a big house where we both could live

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show
I know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one’s for you

And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it’s done
I hope you don’t mind
I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
Well a few of the verses well they’ve got me quite cross
But the sun’s been quite kind while I wrote this song
It’s for people like you that keep it turned on

So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue
Anyway the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen”

I’m not sure when I started crying. Tears were running down my cheeks but I refused to move to get tissues. I didn’t want to look away from the screen. Yoochun’s voice as he sang was breathtaking. It was low, breathy, but clear and so beautiful. His eyes closed when he began improvising his playing, making the song longer than it actually was and a smile was dancing across his lips. When he finished, it took him a moment to pull his hands away from the keys and turn back to the camera so that he was again looking directly at me.

“Doc, Yunho, because of your presence, the past few months at the hospital have been easy to bear. I am very happy that it was a doctor like you who took care of me, but you see the thing is that, somewhere along those few months, I started seeing you as more than just my doctor. I considered asking you out, “hey doc, want to be my boyfriend?” but I didn’t want to be the cause of pain to you later on. Maybe I am now and I’m sorry. I see the way you look at me, how concerned you are and I can tell that it goes beyond your role as a doctor. I know you never told me how you felt, and you probably won’t, but that’s okay Yunho, because I know, and I love you too.”

He kept talking, something about me meeting someone and being happy in the future, but I had stopped paying attention after I had heard him say he loved me. Eventually, the screen turned blue again and I reached for the scarf with trembling hands. I untied the ribbon and pressed the fabric against my face. It smelled like him, but it was very faint, a lingering smell of cigarettes absorbed into the fabric mixed with the cologne he used to wear. I cried into it for a long time.

+++

It happened on a cold December morning, five years after Yoochun’s death.

I had been asked to attend a conference given by a well-known Canadian university regarding new developments in the field of cancer research and so found myself spending a week in the charming city of Montreal. Unfortunately for me, I had not expected to be greeted by a violent snowstorm. It had been going on for two full days now and was starting on the third. I believe they had started to count the amount of snow by feet at that point. It was beautiful though. The streets were illuminated by Christmas lights in the windows of the stores and there was just this particular holiday spirit floating in the air.

I had just gotten a coffee at a local café and was about to leave with my full cup in hand. I brought it close to my mouth so I could take a sip when someone ran into me, causing the coffee to spill over onto my chin and my hand. The surprise and the sudden burn caused me to drop the cup and create a mess. I let out a string of curses and brought my hand to my mouth to suck on the reddening skin.

It’s only at that moment that I noticed there was a guy, much younger than I was, maybe around 25, who was apologising profusely between asking me if I was alright and to please let him buy me another cup. I took the time to look at him. Chocolate brown hair was escaping from beneath the black slouchy beanie he was wearing. His eyes were a pale shade of green and there were light freckles dusting the bridge of his nose and the top of his cheeks. He was wearing a khaki army winter jacket that had fake fur around the hood. His jeans were black, slightly faded and tucked into combat boots.

His scarf matched mine.

I snapped out of my obvious staring and apologized when I noticed he was still waiting for me to say something. I was tempted to say that it was not necessary for him to get me another cup of coffee, but there are just moments in life you have to take advantage of and I wasn’t about to let this chance pass up so I told him I’d be glad if I could indeed have another cup. He smiled widely and held the door open for me, letting me go back in first before following after me. He apologized a few more time as we waited to order.

Now, at that point, we could have gone our own separate ways and that would have been the end of this encounter, but when he asked me if I’d like to maybe stay and share a table with him, I found myself unable to refuse. We found a free table and sat into comfortable leather armchairs. I watched as he unzipped his coat and shrugged out of it to make himself comfortable. He was wearing an oversized black sweater with the sleeves so long they were covering half of his fingers, and a plaid shirt underneath judging by the collar peeking out.

After I got out of my coat as well, he asked to see my hand and so I reached across the table without even thinking about it and let him look at it, his fingers gently brushing over the skin to make sure that the burn wasn’t too serious. Once he was satisfied, he let go of my hand and announced with another bright smile,

“I’m Felix.”

“Yunho, it’s nice to meet you Felix,” I replied with a light smile of my own. He had the most adorable accent. It sounded like a mix of British and French.

Apparently, he noticed I had an accent as well because his next question was where I was from and his mouth dropped open when I told him Korea.

Felix and I ended up talking for what felt like hours. He asked me a lot of questions about how it was like to live there, what I was doing here in Montreal, etc. He was very curious and his laugher was so honest, coming from deep within, I couldn’t help but smile whenever I heard it. When I asked him if he was working, or still going to school, he said:

“I’m a pianist. Well, obviously I am not a famous one yet, but I hope to be one day. If that doesn’t work out, I’d still like to do something related to music, maybe compose for others? Actually, now that I think about it, one of my friends sent me a song recently and maybe you’ve heard of it?”

He fished his mp3 player out of the pocket of his jacket and ran his thumb over the screen a few times before finding what he was looking for and handing me one of his earphones. I put the one he had offered me into my ear and waited for the music to start.

Piano instantly filled my ears and I closed my eyes as I listened. It was a beautiful song and my eyes flew open in surprise when someone started to sing, in Korean. I glanced up at Felix who seemed quite please with my reaction. He let the song play until the end and returned his player to his pocket after I had ended him back the earphone.

“So? What do you think? It’s pretty good right? I wish I could write something this good one day.”

To this day, I still don’t know if it was fate or not, but I firmly believe that what happened that December morning couldn’t have been just a matter of pure coincidence. It was Felix’s answer to my question that confirmed this belief of mine.

“Who’s singing and playing?”

“The singer’s name is Kim Jaejoong, but it’s been said the song had actually been written by his best friend. His name was Park Yoochun.”