"Tell me once again why I am doing this!" Yunho' voice held the note of annoyance to it, signifying that only his general good nature - and maybe a presence of his girlfriend's gentle hand on his arm - was restraining him from actually snapping.
"Because Yoochun is your best friend, and you never deny your friend help in a difficult situation", LeeSoo's tone was so serene, that for a moment Yunho was absolutely sure that she was mocking him. He eyed her with suspicion.
Then he sighed and surveyed 'the disaster' around them. "But why this?" He actually whined.
What the two of them had to deal with right now was the result of Yunho agreeing, or rather offering himself - being possessed by devil itself, no less - to help his friend with the exhibition. It seemed as a simple task at first - all he had to do was to talk to the art gallery owner about the matter at hand and monitor the packing of the paintings. But the manager kept talking nonsense and shaking the contract before Yunho's face, the loaders could do nothing until the papers were signed, and the only person who could solve the problem in the blink of an eye was currently not answering his phone.
"God dammed!" Yunho swore for the twentieth time, as he listened to Yoochun's voicemail pick up again. LeeSoo gently rubbed his arm. "Maybe he doesn't hear it", she offered in the manner of consolation. But that only caused Yunho to erupt in a new series of curses. He flipped his cell open, hit the buttons again, intending to try his luck again, when the door to the gallery opened letting Yoochun in.
'He looks almost like his old self', LeeSoo thought looking at the young man. Dressed in designer clothes, a black half-buttoned shirt and blue faded jeans, he looked both trendy and casual at the same. A fashionable pair of sunglasses obscured his eyes, and he didn't remove them upon proceeding into the hall. The keys of his Jaguar dangling from his fingers, Yoochun was all business, walking straight to the manager, without even sparing a glance to his friends.
Stopping before the man, he said in a low voice, "I want my paintings off this exhibition. Name your price."
And half an hour later three of them were watching the loaders take the pictures off the walls, pack them and move them into a van. Yoochun looked distressed, and couldn't suppress nervous pacing.
"Why didn't you pick up?" Yunho asked more out of the need to fill in the silence, than because of the actual grudge.
Yoochun just shrugged. "I lost my cell somewhere", he shrugged, not
concerned a bit. He was fidgeting, trying to will with his mind only the men to
move faster. He wanted to be done with it.
The awkward silence descended yet again. And LeeSoo in a vain attempt to lighten
the mood turned her attention to one of the few, not packed yet, paintings
hanging behind her. It was one of the loveliest seascapes she had seen. Most of
the canvas was taken by the sky, blue and gray, mostly covered by the thick
clouds. The sun was not visible, but some of its rays penetrated the veil of
cirro-cumulus, reflecting on the sea surface in pure gold. On its background the
masts of yachts looked like strange branches of black trees, prominent and
stretching up to heaven.
"I like this one a lot", she said.
That captured Yoochun's attention; he stopped and looked at the painting she was referring to. Looking at his paintings now felt as if they hadn't been drawn by his own hand. They looked unfamiliar, strange. They were as new to him as to any other visitor of the gallery. For a brief moment he felt confused, his eyebrows furrowed, because he couldn't remember how he had been drawing it, and if he had at all. And then it dawned on him.
With acute preciseness his memory supplied him with the details of that sea voyage they had taken, of that little outdoor cafe, situated right over the yacht club with the splendid view down the harbor. It had captured their hearts back then, and Yoochun could remember, spending numerous hours there, drinking cheap black coffee and simply enjoying each others company. The view had been imprinted in his mind, as well as on a few photographs; and after their return home he had felt the urge to embody it on canvas as well.
Looking at this painting now was like cutting his scarred heart afresh, and Yoochun wasn't sure he could bear it. Tearing his eyes off the magnificent view he shifted his gaze to his hands, to a thick white gold band on his left hand, the ring which twin was now buried six feet under the ground.
Suddenly he felt sick.
"I used to like it too", he murmured, and in a blink of an eye was walking outside.
"Oh", LeeSoo let out a soft sigh, "Did I say something wrong? I didn't want to make him even sadder..." But Yunho just shook his head and took one of her hands into his squeezing gently, "I am afraid, no matter what any of us says to Yoochun right now will only remind him of his loss and cause him pain."
"We just have to wait and let him get over it himself," he added in
afterthought. LeeSoo smiled a bit, recognizing her own words. She turned her
head to look through the glass doors outside, and saw Yoochun leaning on his
dark green Jaguar, a cigarette dangling from his lax fingers. He looked as if a
mannequin made of wax, so motionless he stood. Moving closer to her boyfriend
LeeSoo watched their friend and quietly prayed for him to find the strength in
himself to be able to move on.
//
The light was directly falling on his face, blinding him. When he opened his eyes he could see almost nothing but whiteness. Squinting he could make out a wall and a window, which shutters were flung open, letting in the fresh air. It smelled of the sea and sun and it made him smile.
Stretching he moved to leave the cocoon of tangled sheets. His feet bare he moved sluggishly to the window. Blinking against the sunrays he waited for his eyes to adapt. When he finally could open them without any trouble, he saw a splendid view of the sea.
The day has obviously reached its noon, for the sun stood high above the horizon sending the milliards of beams to dance across the sea surface below. The sea looked magnificent. Calm and deep navy blue it rocked almost unnoticeably against the shore.
The sky was bright blue with white cotton-like clouds that looked as if painted on the canvas. Seagulls screamed shrilly above, composing the symphony with the sound of waves below. The scenery was so serene, it looked unreal.
Two familiar hands encircled his waist. He felt a warm body press to his, and a pair of lips brush over his bare shoulder, in a greeting. He melted against the gentle touch, savoring the love and blissful happiness he felt.
"It is so beautiful", he let out a soft sigh of contentment.
"It is", the answer was breathed out, making him shiver, "maybe I will paint it one day."
The arms around him squeezed him tighter.
"Or maybe I would be just coming to this place with you a year after a year, until the scenery would imprint in my memory and then I would need coming here no more. I would be able to close my eyes and see it. See the sea, the sky, smell it, feel you. And then maybe in my next life I would be reborn as a sea and you would be a sky, and we would come here and live forever at the horizon, where the sea makes love to the sky…"
//
Kim woke up feeling disoriented. He opened his eyes grudgingly, blinking at the dimness of the room. The reality looked gray and plain compared to the bright dream he just had had. It seemed as if all colors were sucked out of everything surrounding him. For a brief moment he felt blind and deaf at the same time.
The impression the dream had left was fleeting but striking. By the time he could fully realize where he was, Kim could hardly remember the details. He could vaguely recollect that everything was bright and he was sure he had seen the sea. And there was that familiar presence, which had filled him both with warm and love, but he was unable to pinpoint anything else.
Something tickled his cheek, and Kim was surprised to find the tears quickly drying on his face. He couldn't remember crying, it must have happened when he was dreaming.
Confused and feeling sad for no particular reason Kim set off to do the housework.
//
Changmin opened the door to his apartment and was instantly welcomed by a delicious aroma. That made him toe off his shoes more quickly and pad his way to the kitchen and the source of smell. There he was met with the view of Kim in his full housekeeping mode, dressed in an apron and armed with a spatula, cooking.
"Wow, that smells really good!"
Kim turned to him and smiled.
Their visit to the police had turned out uninformative. No missing people reports, whose description would have matched Changmin's new friend, not a clue, nothing. They said they would inform them, if they find anything. And when they had left the police station, there had been such a look of utter despair in Kim's face, that Changmin had had no heart to refuse him the place on his couch for a period longer than one night.
That was how he got a new flat-mate for an unknown period of time. There was a problem with money and buying food for two persons, but Changmin had already planned to look for a job, so he was sure they could make it through. With his unfortunate loss of memory Kim was reluctant to go out in the fear of getting lost, that's why he stayed in the apartment and had nothing better to occupy himself with cleaning and cooking. Changmin was against it at first, but after Kim offered him to view it as a way of payment for the opportunity to stay at his place, he had to agree.
And from now on all Changmin's things were in their places, no dust and litter at unfortunate places, his clothes always neatly folded, the textbooks in neat piles. Kim cooked, what seemed to be a delicious meal every day, washed dishes and otherwise made himself helpful. And that was more than Changmin could wish for.
Speaking of cooking. Changmin stretched his hand to grab a small piece from one of the steaming pans to try and was not prepared to have his fingers hit with the spatula. He eyed Kim, who gave him a stern look, "Wash your hands first!"
"Yes, mom!" He stuck his tongue at the other, which caused Kim to erupt in giggles, and left the kitchen to change and wash hands.
It was funny how quickly the two of them seemed to fit into the bonds of comradeship. Although Changmin always found it easy to find common language with almost anyone, he had never done it so fast. It seemed as if they had known each other for years and not for - how long? - three days. He enjoyed talking to Kim, who in return seemed to enjoy listening to him, and sometimes their friendly banter reminded him of his best friend Junsu.
Changmin dropped his backpack near his table and proceeded to a closet. The apartment he was currently residing in was as cheap and as close to his University as one could get. Thus it was also extremely small, consisting only of one room which served as both a bedroom and a living room. His bed in the corner with a little night table on its side, his desk occupied yet another corner closer to the only window in the room. The couch previously rarely used and now occupied by Kim stood somewhere in between the table and the bed close to the further wall from the entrance. The kitchen was tiny, and had enough space only for one person at a stove and one sitting at the table at a time. Changmin had no TV, and Junsu claimed that he led the life that of a hermit. The boy usually only smiled at those words, knowing full well that he didn't need anything else, for he used his apartment only to sleep at and study.
After changing into his home clothes and a quick visit to the bathroom, Changmin was more than ready to try his friend's cooking achievements. He almost bounced to the kitchen, his stomach rumbling and mouth watering. Kim was just laying the table and smiled at his obvious eagerness.
They ate in silence. Changmin finished his meal and let out a content sigh.
"It was delicious. Thank you", he said to Kim.
"I am glad you liked it", was the soft reply, "I enjoyed cooking."
"You cook so well and you enjoy doing it", Changmin scratched his head thinking, "Maybe you were a chief cook at some restaurant?"
Kim blinked at him and then laughed. "I don't know. Maybe", he said, shrugging.
"Doesn't it feel right for you?" For some time Changmin was trying to guess what kind of life his friend might have had before. Judging by his appearance during their first meeting Kim was well-off, but he knew nothing of his preferences or hobbies. He seemed to be educated, for he showed knowledge in literature and arts, when he browsed through the boy's collection of books. But he knew nothing of math and actuarial studies, Changmin was majoring in.
"Not really", Kim shrugged again. He stood to take their dishes to wash. He looked very different in Changmin's old clothes, more real than in his trendy clothes. He took off most of his jewelry as well, the boy noticed, save for the ring on his finger.
Not knowing what possessed him to do so, Changmin grabbed Kim's wrist to hold him still.
"Why do you wear this ring?" He asked. "You took off the rest of your jewelry. Why leave this?" Kim looked at the ring for some time, and said, "I don't know, why I didn't take it off. It just seemed right to leave it on." His face got some sad note, "I feel that is very important to me. But I don't know - can't remember - in what way."
Changmin felt that he had overstepped some line, touched upon something very private, that's why releasing the slender wrist, he attempted a joke, "You aren't married, are you?" But the humor was lost on Kim, as his eyes turned even more wistful. "I don't know", he whispered and taking the dishes turned his back on Changmin.
That evening his roommate went to bed earlier than usual. Huddled up on the couch, almost invisible under blanket, except for the mop of dark hair - Kim had an air of grief about him. And although Changmin couldn't deduce whether it was from the fact that his memories refused to return or from that unfortunate question he had asked, it tugged on Changmin's conscience nevertheless.
~*~
to be continued
date: 08/07/06