( / the call goes directly to voicemail for a second time that night. something within him that he’d been trying so hard to keep strong and sturdy and brave, it caves in upon itself as soon as that digitalized voice begins to speak — his eyes flutter closed, tears catching and sparkling in his long eyelashes like the beads of morning dew that bend green thrones of grass beneath their shimmering weight. he closes his eyes, as if the paper-thin sheets of flesh that obscure a burning busan from his sight can somehow block out the harsh face of reality, too. as if simply squeezing his eyes tightly shut and wishing — wishing for a warm summer rain to bring feeling back to his frozen bones, or for sticky hot blood to stop flowing forth from the crimson smile in his tattered side, or for the man on the other end to pick up please please please — could change anything. there are no shooting stars to place his hope upon in this unfeeling night sky, and even though he cannot see the hell that their city has been transformed into from behind his eyelids, reality still claws at him anyway — the acrid smoke violating his nostrils with its burning stench; the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth and coating his throat. and joonmyun, who was not there to answer his phone — his lack of response either meant that kyungsoo would soon be joining his hyung in the land of the dead, or that this one last call… this call will be the only goodbye to joonmyun he’s going to have a chance to say. a rushed farewell letter, forged in tears and fear and sorrow. the boy has furled around himself to form a compact little ball on the ground, curling around the ghastly wound that splits one side of his body from hipbone to ribcage. his mind is fogging up like misted glass — and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe, too, every gasp of air rattling wetly as blood pools in his punctured lungs — but he’s got to make this call worthwhile. for joonmyun… and for himself, too. because he’ll never get to hear his hyung’s softly sweet voice again, so patient and kind and steady, and joonmyun’s hands that have fleetingly grazed his skin, their touch so gentle and warm… ) — ( / kyungsoo’s shallow breaths catch on a sob, and his entire body writhes as he chokes and splutters, desperate for air. he realizes with a muted jolt that the voicemail has begun to record — and with rivulets of blood trickling down his chin, kyungsoo flounders for control over his body… and even more difficult, his trembling voice. ) j-j… joonmyun hyung… ( / a breathless whisper is all that will leave his quivering lips. ) hi… hyung… i’m… i-i’m so, so sorry… that i won’t even be able t-… to hug you… one more time… ( / pauses to cough; he turns his face away from the screen in a futile attempt to spare joonmyun from having to hear the sounds of his death. ) i… wish that i… had more time… it’s scary, joonmyun… i’m s-so scared… it’s so… cold… ( / but a smile pulls at the tails of his cracked, bloody lips. despite the pain, despite the fear — even despite the freezing chill that seeps father and farther down his limbs. ) b-but… i’m happy… b-because i got to… meet joonmyun hyung. wish… i wish we had… more time. don’t be sad… d-don’t. you deserve… love… and j-joy… please live. can you… do that for me?… ( / kyungsoo swallows around the jumbled knots that’ve made themselves at home in his throat, thinking about his last few words. trying to make them count. ) those pages… you helped me save… were parts… of my journal. y-you can read it, hyung… to hear things i… want to tell you… but won’t ever get to… say. was i… a good… dongsaeng? you’re the… best hyung… i’ve ever been blessed… to meet… ( / compressing a thousand words into a measly minute has been one of hardest things he’s ever had to do. one minute to express his love as much as he can — one last time. ) goodbye, hyung… t-take care. i’ll be okay, d-don’t you worry… i’ll be… just fine
