grandfather's clock
Jaejoong / Yoochun
1,614 words, g
It’s a funeral that doesn’t go with the usual depressing rain like in movies. Jaejoong steps up to the high platform of the reception hall and takes off his sunglasses. Guests - who are wearing proper black suits - look at his checked shirt and ripped jeans through the corners of their eyes. It’s burning hot outside.
He is no kind and caring grandfather / father so people are just here for the formality, except one who can’t stop crying in the far corner of the room next to the altar, a fragile and beautiful looking boy. No one seems to know who he is. Jaejoong is sitting by the wooden pillar just outside the main hall to avoid hearing those adults talk bad about him out loud on purpose. It’s not like he feels offended, he simply has heard all the complaints in the universe about his attitude.
“You’re about the only one who even bothered to fake crying.”
Yoochun turns around with still red eyes. His black suit is old and cheap looking. They’re standing under the shades of a big oak tree at the back of the house.
“Aren’t i a great actor?”
If Jaejoong had had his eyes shut he would have laughed at that confession as most people would. That boy seems emotionally dried in his eyes. Jaejoong takes out his pack of cigarette and brings it to Yoochun’s face. Yoochun shakes his head. Summer is so unpleasant, it’s hard to breathe and the sound that the bugs make from the bushes is annoying.
Yoochun is an orphan whose parents are still alive and well. Ridiculous as it may sound to Jaejoong, gramp took Yoochun in when he was twelve. Jaejoong is going to be a great rocker. Yoochun will become a respectable businessman.
“He is an irritating old man, must be the age.” Jaejoong exhales white smoke.
“That’s why you’re a third rate rocker.”
“What the hell do you know about rock, model student?”
“You’ve got a leaf on your head.” Yoochun points with his index finger and Jaejoong is taken by surprise, “Don’t suddenly and arbitrarily change the subject.” Yoochun chuckles. Ridiculous as it may sound to Jaejoong, gramp took Yoochun in when he was twelve. Yoochun was sent away to a prestigious boarding school and only called back by the old butler when the death was confirmed. That’s why no one knew about his existence in the house.
“So you were crying for real?” Jaejoong turns to Yoochun with wide open eyes. Yoochun coughs and Jaejoong panics, waving his hand to chase the cigarette smoke away.
It was just a normal encounter. People don’t normally keep in touch after meeting for the first time at a funeral, especially when they had been total strangers. Yoochun returns to his faraway boarding school and Jaejoong finishes high school. After about a year Jaejoong hears from his mother that the ‘orphan boy who lived off grandpa’s money’ went to study abroad in America. He replies without much interest and hangs up the phone before his mother could ask how he’s been in his new apartment. It’s another summer and it’s still hard to breathe. Jaejoong grabs his electric guitar and starts disturbing the neighbours. Jaejoong is going to be a great rocker. He moved out after finishing high school and has no intention of going to college. There is no college which can teach him how to become who he wants to become. Adults are hypocritical and they care too much about achievements. Music makes him feel like the world belongs to him and is listening to him. He has a best mate who’s nicknamed Changmin-the-hulk. This bookworm knows nothing about rock but supports Jaejoong anyway. He works in a CD store and once upon a time promised that he would ask the owner for the best spot once Jaejoong’s record was released. One day Jaejoong just randomly comes by the store and looks around for a visible space on the wall to hang his debut poster. He points and talks to the wall “There. Or maybe there.” People look at him, weirded out, and Changmin pretends he doesn’t see anything.
Jaejoong has been kicked out of his apartments three times already because of his loud voice and guitar especially late at night. He’s changed his address so many times even his parents are a little bit confused now. That’s why it makes even less sense when this happens. It’s like a dejavu of the funeral four years ago. Yoochun is wearing a plain black suit but this time he has no tie on and the suit looks expensive. His hair is a little bit longer and his face has the look of maturation. It actually might be the dejavu of four years ago as today is grandfather’s death anniversary.
“I’ve come back to return the money.”
“What money?” Jaejoong is still adjusting to his sudden appearance. He’s just half awake and his apartment is messy. That was definitely not the first question he wanted to ask Yoochun after not seeing each other for so long.
“Everything grandfather spent on me. It was supposed to be for you, his only grandson.”
“Who cares about that? He’s freaking dead.”
“You dyed your hair blond? It suits you.” Yoochun smiles.
Jaejoong’s eyes open widely and so does his mouth. Yoochun is still like an alien. The way he speaks and does things makes no sense. It appears to be very natural to him but he confuses people. He switches conversation subjects, he changes his mood, he plays ridiculous pranks, he messes with Jaejoong’s simple mind. So now Yoochun is almost a respectable businessman, but Jaejoong is still stuck at singing to himself and maybe some small gigs at local pubs if he’s lucky.
“But i’m writing a great song. I just know it.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m serious! It’s called ‘Maze’.”
And Jaejoong goes on forever about this great song of his as the coffee gets cold. Yoochun just nods and nods and orders refills. Jaejoong knows Yoochun understands none of his babbling, but he just wants to keep going. It’s much easier to breathe in autumn. Jaejoong doesn’t even want to sit there when Yoochun greets his parents and hands them the cheque. It seems ridiculous, he thinks. It’s everything Yoochun has earned over these past four years and no one is actually asking for that money. But Jaejoong’s parents accept it anyway.
“Are you going back to America?” Jaejoong closes the front door behind him as they walk out to the main road. “Do you even have any money left?”
“You still smoke? I still don’t.” Yoochun smiles as he usually does and it irritates Jaejoong because he thinks there’s nothing to smile about, even with that subject change. “At least i’m debt-free”, Yoochun says and Jaejoong can’t even be bothered to talk back at that stupid reply. Instead, he feels like punching himself awake after ‘but you still owe me my heart’ came across his lips, almost blurted out.
“Now you can use that money and finally do something big, like making a record with that new great song of yours. When it’s released i will - ”
“I think i’m in love with you.”
Yoochun turns around, “What did you - “
“I’ll go find you with my number one single, soon.” Jaejoong says out load and runs away.
Jaejoong always thought adults were hypocritical but he himself is turning into one and that thought doesn’t please him. Every year there is a summer, and every summer there is grandfather’s death anniversary. But this time Yoochun doesn’t suddenly appear anymore. Not next year. Not the year after that. Not the year after the year after that. The oak tree under which they shared their first encounter and conversation is still there with leaves changing every season. With every summer, they’re green. With every death anniversary, Jaejoong comes with his all time favourite checked shirt and ripped jeans, and a pack of cigarettes in his pocket.
Changmin is putting new CDs on the shelves as he does every Monday and putting away the unsold old ones at the same time. Jaejoong is sitting like a dead corpse behind the counter, on the floor. Changmin kicks Jaejoong’s legs away to step in.
“I didn’t even get in the top one-hundred.” Jaejoong mumbles to himself.
“You didn’t even get in the top two-hundred.” Changmin whispers to himself but it seems Jaejoong heard that anyway.
“I worked on it for three-freaking-years.” Jaejoong opens his left palm and there’s a crumpled piece of paper with Yoochun’s address on it. Suddenly it is taken away by a hand from behind him.
“I just came by to let you know my new address.” Yoochun smiles while looking down at Jaejoong. “And i already bought the CD, but still waiting for the number one single.”
Changmin looks at the stranger with a curious pair of eyes as he has never seen Jaejoong so shocked. Yoochun takes the pen away from Changmin’s hand and writes something down on a blank sheet. He then gives it to Jaejoong and walks away. He’s wearing black suit again with a long coat on; his hair is now cut short just like how it was when they first met seven years ago. Changmin is so confused he doesn’t know which one to look at but as Yoochun disappears from outside the store he decides to check out how Jaejoong’s doing down there behind the counter.
“I’ll be damned,” he says, throwing his head back.
“Who was that?” Changmin whispers.
“I’ll start writing a new song tomorrow.” Jaejoong stands up, straightening his clothes. Summer is almost here.
1,614 words, g
It’s a funeral that doesn’t go with the usual depressing rain like in movies. Jaejoong steps up to the high platform of the reception hall and takes off his sunglasses. Guests - who are wearing proper black suits - look at his checked shirt and ripped jeans through the corners of their eyes. It’s burning hot outside.
He is no kind and caring grandfather / father so people are just here for the formality, except one who can’t stop crying in the far corner of the room next to the altar, a fragile and beautiful looking boy. No one seems to know who he is. Jaejoong is sitting by the wooden pillar just outside the main hall to avoid hearing those adults talk bad about him out loud on purpose. It’s not like he feels offended, he simply has heard all the complaints in the universe about his attitude.
“You’re about the only one who even bothered to fake crying.”
Yoochun turns around with still red eyes. His black suit is old and cheap looking. They’re standing under the shades of a big oak tree at the back of the house.
“Aren’t i a great actor?”
If Jaejoong had had his eyes shut he would have laughed at that confession as most people would. That boy seems emotionally dried in his eyes. Jaejoong takes out his pack of cigarette and brings it to Yoochun’s face. Yoochun shakes his head. Summer is so unpleasant, it’s hard to breathe and the sound that the bugs make from the bushes is annoying.
Yoochun is an orphan whose parents are still alive and well. Ridiculous as it may sound to Jaejoong, gramp took Yoochun in when he was twelve. Jaejoong is going to be a great rocker. Yoochun will become a respectable businessman.
“He is an irritating old man, must be the age.” Jaejoong exhales white smoke.
“That’s why you’re a third rate rocker.”
“What the hell do you know about rock, model student?”
“You’ve got a leaf on your head.” Yoochun points with his index finger and Jaejoong is taken by surprise, “Don’t suddenly and arbitrarily change the subject.” Yoochun chuckles. Ridiculous as it may sound to Jaejoong, gramp took Yoochun in when he was twelve. Yoochun was sent away to a prestigious boarding school and only called back by the old butler when the death was confirmed. That’s why no one knew about his existence in the house.
“So you were crying for real?” Jaejoong turns to Yoochun with wide open eyes. Yoochun coughs and Jaejoong panics, waving his hand to chase the cigarette smoke away.
It was just a normal encounter. People don’t normally keep in touch after meeting for the first time at a funeral, especially when they had been total strangers. Yoochun returns to his faraway boarding school and Jaejoong finishes high school. After about a year Jaejoong hears from his mother that the ‘orphan boy who lived off grandpa’s money’ went to study abroad in America. He replies without much interest and hangs up the phone before his mother could ask how he’s been in his new apartment. It’s another summer and it’s still hard to breathe. Jaejoong grabs his electric guitar and starts disturbing the neighbours. Jaejoong is going to be a great rocker. He moved out after finishing high school and has no intention of going to college. There is no college which can teach him how to become who he wants to become. Adults are hypocritical and they care too much about achievements. Music makes him feel like the world belongs to him and is listening to him. He has a best mate who’s nicknamed Changmin-the-hulk. This bookworm knows nothing about rock but supports Jaejoong anyway. He works in a CD store and once upon a time promised that he would ask the owner for the best spot once Jaejoong’s record was released. One day Jaejoong just randomly comes by the store and looks around for a visible space on the wall to hang his debut poster. He points and talks to the wall “There. Or maybe there.” People look at him, weirded out, and Changmin pretends he doesn’t see anything.
Jaejoong has been kicked out of his apartments three times already because of his loud voice and guitar especially late at night. He’s changed his address so many times even his parents are a little bit confused now. That’s why it makes even less sense when this happens. It’s like a dejavu of the funeral four years ago. Yoochun is wearing a plain black suit but this time he has no tie on and the suit looks expensive. His hair is a little bit longer and his face has the look of maturation. It actually might be the dejavu of four years ago as today is grandfather’s death anniversary.
“I’ve come back to return the money.”
“What money?” Jaejoong is still adjusting to his sudden appearance. He’s just half awake and his apartment is messy. That was definitely not the first question he wanted to ask Yoochun after not seeing each other for so long.
“Everything grandfather spent on me. It was supposed to be for you, his only grandson.”
“Who cares about that? He’s freaking dead.”
“You dyed your hair blond? It suits you.” Yoochun smiles.
Jaejoong’s eyes open widely and so does his mouth. Yoochun is still like an alien. The way he speaks and does things makes no sense. It appears to be very natural to him but he confuses people. He switches conversation subjects, he changes his mood, he plays ridiculous pranks, he messes with Jaejoong’s simple mind. So now Yoochun is almost a respectable businessman, but Jaejoong is still stuck at singing to himself and maybe some small gigs at local pubs if he’s lucky.
“But i’m writing a great song. I just know it.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m serious! It’s called ‘Maze’.”
And Jaejoong goes on forever about this great song of his as the coffee gets cold. Yoochun just nods and nods and orders refills. Jaejoong knows Yoochun understands none of his babbling, but he just wants to keep going. It’s much easier to breathe in autumn. Jaejoong doesn’t even want to sit there when Yoochun greets his parents and hands them the cheque. It seems ridiculous, he thinks. It’s everything Yoochun has earned over these past four years and no one is actually asking for that money. But Jaejoong’s parents accept it anyway.
“Are you going back to America?” Jaejoong closes the front door behind him as they walk out to the main road. “Do you even have any money left?”
“You still smoke? I still don’t.” Yoochun smiles as he usually does and it irritates Jaejoong because he thinks there’s nothing to smile about, even with that subject change. “At least i’m debt-free”, Yoochun says and Jaejoong can’t even be bothered to talk back at that stupid reply. Instead, he feels like punching himself awake after ‘but you still owe me my heart’ came across his lips, almost blurted out.
“Now you can use that money and finally do something big, like making a record with that new great song of yours. When it’s released i will - ”
“I think i’m in love with you.”
Yoochun turns around, “What did you - “
“I’ll go find you with my number one single, soon.” Jaejoong says out load and runs away.
Jaejoong always thought adults were hypocritical but he himself is turning into one and that thought doesn’t please him. Every year there is a summer, and every summer there is grandfather’s death anniversary. But this time Yoochun doesn’t suddenly appear anymore. Not next year. Not the year after that. Not the year after the year after that. The oak tree under which they shared their first encounter and conversation is still there with leaves changing every season. With every summer, they’re green. With every death anniversary, Jaejoong comes with his all time favourite checked shirt and ripped jeans, and a pack of cigarettes in his pocket.
Changmin is putting new CDs on the shelves as he does every Monday and putting away the unsold old ones at the same time. Jaejoong is sitting like a dead corpse behind the counter, on the floor. Changmin kicks Jaejoong’s legs away to step in.
“I didn’t even get in the top one-hundred.” Jaejoong mumbles to himself.
“You didn’t even get in the top two-hundred.” Changmin whispers to himself but it seems Jaejoong heard that anyway.
“I worked on it for three-freaking-years.” Jaejoong opens his left palm and there’s a crumpled piece of paper with Yoochun’s address on it. Suddenly it is taken away by a hand from behind him.
“I just came by to let you know my new address.” Yoochun smiles while looking down at Jaejoong. “And i already bought the CD, but still waiting for the number one single.”
Changmin looks at the stranger with a curious pair of eyes as he has never seen Jaejoong so shocked. Yoochun takes the pen away from Changmin’s hand and writes something down on a blank sheet. He then gives it to Jaejoong and walks away. He’s wearing black suit again with a long coat on; his hair is now cut short just like how it was when they first met seven years ago. Changmin is so confused he doesn’t know which one to look at but as Yoochun disappears from outside the store he decides to check out how Jaejoong’s doing down there behind the counter.
“I’ll be damned,” he says, throwing his head back.
“Who was that?” Changmin whispers.
“I’ll start writing a new song tomorrow.” Jaejoong stands up, straightening his clothes. Summer is almost here.