“You know, this never-ending darkness grows ever scarier. We peer within its depths, trying to make something out, but we are met with nothingness. Yet want to know what lies there, beyond our galaxy, beyond other worlds and dimensions. That’s why I want to be a scientist.”
“Mark,” Donghyuk looks at his friend reproachfully and sighs, “you’re only twelve years old and you’ve already mapped your whole life out across multiple branches of possibility. Even my mother started wondering if I was okay and where all the ‘big words’ in my vocabulary came from. You’re a bad influence on me.”
Young boy rolls his eyes and his gaze lingers on something far in the distance. Minhyun chuckles and looks at his dongsaeng: he’s really changing me and I don’t know if it’s for the better.
“I can’t stand this space obsession of yours!” he repeats every day almost as a mantra, and yet his room is gradually filling with books on astronomy and his drawings become more and more phantasmagoric. Mark has entered his life and changed it in many ways, even if some of them have gone unnoticed.
“It’s the dream I want to come true. And what about you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.” Donghyuk’s arm twitches.
“What is it you like? What is your dream?” Minhyun has been growing more and more captivated by Donghyuk. What kind of person is he? What does he think about? What is his life like? They’ve only known each other for a few months but in this short time they’ve become so close their relationship is that of best friends…
“Why do you care so much, nerd?”
… With a few occasional wrinkles.
//
“Finally,” Donghyuk throws his head back and undoes the tie tightly wrapped around his neck. Now he can breathe easier. The day has been filled with commotion, a seemingly never-ending whirl in which, for some reason, everyone who arrived to the school hall saw something special. It’s just a prom, he thought, there’s nothing special about it. Just another day. A day when our roads are going to diverge, leaving memories as our only link.
The room is dark and moonlight faintly glints on a young man’s face. This moment is just one of many, but for some reason it is just too hard to bear.
“You know,” inhale, “you still haven’t told me what universities you applied to.”
“What does it matter? If I tell you before I know the results you’re going to start making wishful plans, aren’t you?”
“That’s true… Anyway, I’m certain you’ll be fine.”
Lee chuckles and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to think about what will be and what was. Doesn’t want to either take action or arrogantly stand by. All he wants is to stay in this suffocating moment between ebony night and sultry morning. Who cares if it’s winter. The fires around them blaze more strongly and brightly than summer’s noons.
Everyone is waiting for something, seeking an answer for a question unasked, by anyone, even themselves. Every event is a coincidence, the whole world is one big coincidence and the probability of your dream coming true is one to infinity. One small branch of probability, barely noticeable, yet so deeply personal.
The fact they managed to snuck out was pure luck (the teacher got very close to discovering their hiding spot). Their meeting on the roof that day was also luck, as was the rest of it. Both were in the same class through middle- and high school and both are now graduating, with good grades no less. Everything that happens to these two is split between them. The universe saw them as something whole, indivisible, and no one could argue. Not too long ago Mark himself told him that they’re but victims of happenstance, with probabilities luckily converging in their favor.
Minhyun’s dream is already coming true. Having been accepted into his university of choice he is steadily working towards his life-long goal.
Donghyuk’s dream will remain just that. He aspires to create art, books and paintings that are read and watched with bated breath. But it is not to be. He traded his dream for a single chance. In secret, Donghyuk had applied to the same university as Mark. All the coincidences of the past meant something, and he didn’t want to throw it all away because of his own selfish dreams. No matter how vehemently he would profess his disdain for outer space, within his heart of hearts he yearns to explore it. Explore together with Mark. Because their relationship is just one big coincidence.
His mother once told him that there were no such things.
Minhyun’s strong hands are gripping the collar of Donghyuk’s white shirt, young men’s face mere centimeters away. Being pressed into cold concrete hurts a bit, and he’d break free and run away if he wasn’t so curious about what would come next.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”
It’s not a question, really, just pure exasperation. Discontent. Denial.
Well, it all started the day you were born… is what Mark wants to say, but instead he’s just breathing angrily into the dongsaeng’s face.
“Why are you here? Is this really the university you applied to? This isn’t a joke?”
“I know,” Minhyun closes his eyes in quiet frustration, “you wanted to become an artist. What are you doing here, Hyuk?”
Donghyuk doesn’t reply. The things he wants to say could easily be misinterpreted. He’s terrified that the chain of coincidences will be broken by three simple words, especially now, when Mark’s face is so close and his dark eyes are spurring him to say it.
But he’s not going to do it. Not now. Coincidences should remain aligned, they need to happen over and over.
A coward. He darts away, leaving Minhyun standing alone next to some classroom with a nameplate “Lee Taeyong”. It doesn’t matter to him. He keeps running, further, deeper into the building. Or maybe he’s running out. He doesn’t know or care: as usual, chance will decide the outcome.
“Donghyuk, I’m flying!”, Mark gleefully jumps onto Lee’s back and squeezes his shoulders. The world freezes in front of the younger man’s eyes, time itself stops. Minhyun’s laughter distantly echoes in his head along with a loud screech of the realization, threatening to burst his eardrums.
“Say something. Aren’t you glad? We’re going to be part of the same launch. Don’t you get it? You and me. We’ll study the stars and send reports back to Earth. Just like we always wanted.”
His face is lit with a genuine, happy smile that will instantly fade when Donghyuk reveals that he wasn’t accepted. He is to remain a flight engineer, deemed unfit to be a crewmember.
“Hyuk? What’s wrong, Hyuk? What’s the matter?”
Minhyun’s face freezes with fear.
Minhyun is overcome with cold and loneliness. The apartment is chilly despite the open windows, that should let in warm and comforting spring winds. He doesn’t feel their warmth. Lee should be celebrating his triumph over destiny, but it feels hollow. And the reason for it is Donghyuk. The launch is in two days. His first flight further than Earth’s orbit. Cold dread is coming over him, crawling under the skin, stinging, bringing in soft whispers fears pried from the most inner depths of his mind. The chain of coincidences has been broken by a sheet of paper with the names of the crewmembers. They are the ones who will fly beyond the Solar system. The ones who will find a new home out there. The one who will not come back.
Donghyuk and Minhyun have gone through too much together to be separated like that. Mark doesn’t want to leave behind his smile, warm like sunshine, and his dark eyes, attracting attention like black holes attract light. He’ll lose the chance to look into those eyes, not for years or even decades, but for ever.
Minhyun throws his head back and for the first time lets his feelings break through, tears flowing down his cheeks. He shouldn’t have volunteered. He has a family, friends and… him.
People chosen to die out there either have no attachments to this planet or are incredibly talented. The fact he was chosen is flattering, but now he just wants to rid himself of this talent and stay as a simple pilot or a flight engineer, on the same planet as Donghyuk.
He picks up his phone with trembling hands and messages Mark who, he knows, will try to stay as far away as possible during the launch.
His chest is heavy; he lets out a stifled groan. The pain is unbearable.
“Please, please, please.”
A suppressed cry is seething within him. Minhyun wishes it was not too late into the night for Lee to reply. The device vibrates. The young man clutches it, anxious.
haesun: you’re such a jackass… The launch is tomorrow, you need to get some sleep.
haesun: I shouldn’t be bothering you at such a time.
starboy: Please, come over. I need you.
Several times the app indicates that haesun is typing a message, but then it stops.
Minhyun knows that Donghyuk is already putting on his cherry-colored jeans and cusses under his breath trying not to wake up his roommates. He lives and spends most of his time in the engineers’ section of the complex. They weren’t allowed to setlle anywhere else since the facility’s location must remain secret. Along with the personnel’s real jobs. They are, of course, permitted to leave the bunker, but living anywhere else is out of the question. Mark himself would spend all his days there, but before the launch he had been let out to see his family. To say his goodbyes.
Donghyuk grabs his car keys and runs, as fast as he can. Today will be the last day they spend together. The launch is tomorrow and they will have to ready the equipment and inspect it for a millionth time. After all, safety is paramount. A small oversight could cost a life, and that life – millions of others. Donghyuk absent-mindedly types the passcode and rushes through barely opened doors—not a second can be wasted. He doesn’t understand why their friendship went downhill after the news about Minhyun’s departure hit. His heart was aching with resentment and dull pain. Even a glimpse of Mark’s highlighted hair would stifle his breathing with anger. He was on the verge of tears when plans about their life he had envisioned crashed and burned. Donghyuk was going to confess to Mark after the docking, with the ship flying above the planet. He wanted to say it when there was no going back, to hear his “I love you” drown in the nothingness of space, but sear in his friend’s memory.
Yet the chain of coincidences broke. Their chances fell to pieces. All of his fragile dreams shattered, like a vase knocked to the floor by a careless child, with no possibility of repair or re-purchase. Actually, a new one would be pointless anyway.
Minhyun could refuse to fly and tried to do just that, but Donghyuk reached the professor just in time to warn him not to listen. He’s out of his mind. Can’t believe his good fortune. Old man just laughed and sent the engineer off, telling him not to worry.
Donghyuk’s hands are shaking. He clutches the wheel, teary-eyed, and swallows the pain from a piercing, frightening realization.
Minhyun is trying to breathe, but the tears won’t let him. They’re suffocating him, not letting him function. The time is slipping away not by seconds, by minutes. Donghyuk is on the way, he knows it. He’ll be there soon. He’ll arrive at the last moment and embrace him. That’s certain.
Minhyun’s chest hurts from stifled cries. He’s afraid. Afraid to fly without Donghyuk. Afraid of being separated from him. And not because he himself dreads isolation, but because that would mean leaving him alone. One of them will stay on the planet surrounded by the empty void and the other will be eternally wading through it.
Their dreams, their shared happiness – it will all be separated by hollow space, made of pain and unending darkness.
He is tempted to run away. To blow up that damned bunker and never look back. They would be hunted down and killed, but at least at that moment they would be together.
As it is now, as soon as the ship takes off they lose their chance to die together. To touch. To run away from home, cheerfully laughing. To share their happiness and dreams. Apart from one – to see each other again.
His vision is clouded with tears. He’s almost there, but it feels like he is hundreds of miles away. Donghyuk presses the gas pedal into the floor and accelerates. An oncoming car could be the end of him, but at least before he dies he’ll see Min Hyun’s porcelain skin and dark alluring eyes. The though keeps him going.
The car turns the corner and he sees Mark’s house in front of him.
The tires squeal, halting the vehicle. Donghyuk runs, stumbling, as fast as his legs can carry him. The lights aren’t on, but he knows exactly where the right window is. He hastily climbs the tree by the house, scraping his palms and knees, but never stopping.
It’s just like in the good old days. When they were just happy twenty year-old boys. When instead of one dream they had millions. When their lives were filled with plans for the future and carefree laughter.
He wants their embrace to last forever. To Mark kisses are more than simple touches. They are too intimate. They are too much.
Donghyuk’s lips are so soft and tender he never wants to draw away. His slender fingers are like velvet to the touch, they cling to him, gripping his shoulders. His hair seems like it’s not hair at all, but lustrous silk threads.
The tenderness of all the years past is tearing their minds to pieces. It manifests in light, barely noticeable touches, unsteady breathing, in bitter welling tears that are falling down and mixing together.
They can’t let go of each other. Too much has been lost to stop now. Too much has been gained to lose it all.
Minhyun can hardly breathe, but this time not because of tears, but because of the other person next to him. They are not close enough, not yet. There’s no more tenderness, no more affection to make up. The only thing they lack is closeness.
They fill each other up, giving away all the feelings they’ve been storing within themselves, within their hearts for all those years. Teardrops are flowing down their cheeks, carrying with them the feelings of the past. Bitter, they slide along the neck along with the other’s tongue.
Every caress is despair, every touch – unbearable pain.
“Don’t go”, one utters, choking.
“I want to fly with you”, replies the other, hopeless.
“Pick up the pace! We have only a few minutes before launch! Where’s that Donghyuk gone to?”
Donghuyk ran away. Ran towards the ship to look at Minhyun one last time, through the ship’s metal casing. Tears were uncontrollably flowing down his cheeks again and falling on dry earth, cracked from the heat.
The man heard the loudspeaker counting down. A minute left.
I want to be with you again. Even closer than yesterday. Can you hear me, Minhyun?
And somewhere on the orbit a quiet “yes” will remain. He knows. He understands. Earth is shaking from the heat of the thrusters.
Donghyuk starts quietly whispering lines from a poem Mark used to read to him almost every night, when they would lie in the attic and gaze at the stars.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right;
Because their words had forked no lightning they…
Donghyuk cries in anguish.
…Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Donghyuk falls on the dry heated earth and covers his eyes with his hands so that he can’t see him disappearing into the void. He’s always hated saying goodbyes and would usually leave without saying a word. But this time he couldn’t.
He’s looking intensely into the camera in front of him. There’s no telling who is winning this staring contest. There is not much he has to do: just press the record button, say something and press it again. But it’s still too nerve-wracking. At last, Donghyuk finds the resolve.
“Hey, um… Hi, loser. We kinda screwed up our timing back there, didn’t we? I should’ve come to you sooner. We would’ve had more time on our hands that night. I’m not very into that romantic stuff, you know. Like “baking pastries together” or something like that. But it still kinda hurts that you’ve never even made me breakfast in bed. Though, that may be for the best. You probably would’ve brought me a cracked raw egg sprinkled with some dill instead of a proper omelet. If you’d managed to find one, that is.
Other than that… We’re doing pretty well. Developing a new ship, planning to send you a shuttle with provisions. This one would be faster than your rusty bucket. You know, we really had to have postponed the launch. The new engine we’ve made is much faster than yours, can you believe it?
Half a year has passed, huh. I was acting like a child, and I’m sorry. I know I should’ve written something to you at least. But I couldn’t. Hope you’ll understand.
Mark, I miss you. You can’t even imagine how much.
Sorry for all this mushy talk, but I really want to be with you. Honestly.
I know you’re not coming back and even if you did, I’d be dead by then.
I just want you to know how I want you here.
Okay, then. I’m going. Wouldn’t want you to think I cared about you or something. I detest both you and your outer space antics, you know. Bye, loser.”
Before the monitor went black, on-screen Donghyuk smiled. Minhyun smiled back without thinking. He wants to go back. But he cannot. Right now his only goal is to ascertain whether their destination planet is habitable. For the crew it’s six years away.
But on Earth, decades will have passed by the time they arrive.
As a result, from now on Donghyuk will only smile at him from a ship’s computer screen.
The wind is light and warm today, for some reason. The grass is soft and pleasantly cool.
Donghyuk is lying on it, looking at the skies, through the blue spots between the clouds. Somewhere out there Minhyun is looking back at him. He promised he’d come back as soon as possible, promised they’d be able to look into each other’s eyes again.
Donghyuk believes in it wholeheartedly. Enough to write a letter to his friend every day. He puts them all in a box. So that Mark will be able to see them when he comes back. He’ll see his love in these letters, and it won’t be confined by just three words.
Minhyun, we will meet again.
Do not go gentle into that good night…
