Next Door |•YEONGYU/BEOMJUN•|

~5~

A few weeks passed by in a blur. Beomgyu felt better than before. His grades were still not up to his father's expectations, which were a 100 in every subject. He was a college student. People struggled to get above 40. But at least he wasn't getting anything less than A+es.

He also apologized to Yeonjun's mother. He was glad she liked him so much. He tried to get the elder's younger brother to tell him that he was sorry, and he really didn't mean to do that. But the kid was too young, and he sighed to himself.

Digging a hole and digging thyself six feet under sounds extremely pleasant.

Beomgyu pleaded with Yeonjun's mom to let him know when the latter would be discharged. And as said before, since she loved him so much, she accepted, and poor Gyu couldn't be more grateful.

He had to go and talk to Yeonjun himself. Like had had to. He wasn't a coward. His phone buzzed with a text from 'Ms. Choi' and he held back his breath.

Ms. Choi:
He is back, dear.

He exhaled the breath he took in. Going right now would be too weird for him. He will do it when he sees Yeonjun.

Tomorrow at college.
Not at, when going to college.

"Okay, Gyu," he muttered to himself, getting down the stairs. "You can do this."

​Beomgyu's heart seized as he saw Yeonjun stumble, a cold wave of guilt washing over him. It was his own fault, a heavy and undeniable truth.

He was about to call the elder by his name before realizing it might be a bit traumatizing for the elder to get out of the hospital and remember the cause that made him go in the first place. So he just tapped the other on his shoulder, since they were nearly the same height. 

Yeonjun jumped with a curse, almost shooting out his mouth before he covered it with a hand.
"Ah shi-"

Then the elder realized who the other person was, and all the emotions left his dark eyes.
"What do you want, punk?" he replied, his voice harsh.

Beomgyu pursed his lips, a wave of hurt washing over him. "I'm sorry, hyung," he started, dreading to meet the other's eyes. "I really didn't mean to-"

Yeonjun stopped him with a hand.
Beomgyu looked at the elder's eyes.

​"I might have considered forgiving you," Yeonjun said, his voice cold and distant. "But forgiveness is for friends, and you were never even close to that."

Beomgyu's whole world collapsed in front of him. His bias just told him that. And he was his entire world. Before he could process anything, the elder left, keeping him standing there alone.

Ouch would be an understatement in this case.

Ms. Choi saw the whole scene unfold in front of her own eyes. She couldn't disagree with the fact that she was very disappointed with her son's behaviour, but right now, she just felt extremely sympathetic towards Beomgyu. Yeonjun wasn't like this to anyone. He was a well-mannered boy. He could mix with people very easily. So why was he so harsh towards this boy next door? Did something happen between them? She couldn't really figure out when exactly, because this was their first time seeing the boy. Or maybe not for her son.

But she saw how hard Beomgyu tried to create a bond among them. How sincerely he apologized to her when her son was hospitalized. But Yeonjun just pushed him away.

She shouldn't be concerned about this since it's none of her business. But what's not a nosy neighbour? She liked Beomgyu way too much. So much that she could exchange him for Yeonjun.

She sighed and closed her eyes. But firstly, she needs to put in some manners in her son.

Beomgyu entered his house quietly, which was quite unusual for him since he literally couldn't keep his mouth shut. But it didn't go out of his mom's notice.

"Beomgyu-ah?" she called out, seeing his silhouette from the crack in the kitchen door. "Didn't see you there. Lunch is almost ready. Can you please-" she paused, seeing her son not glancing at her as he went up to his room like a ghost.

She became worried. Did he have a bad day at school? Did he get bullied? A bad result in a test?

She quickly went up behind her son and gently opened the door, saying, "I'm coming in, dear." She saw her son sitting on his bed with a blank expression plastered on his face. "Dear?" Her voice was calming, coated with a tinge of worry. "Is it about your exams? You know that even you're father knows that it's impossible to meet his expectations."

She went and sat on the floor next to her son. She ran a hand through his long hair, a worried look on her face. "Beomgyu?"

Beomgyu's eyes met hers, and she could see all the sadness marring them. 

"I don't know, Mom," he sobbed, the words a desperate, broken whisper. "I'm trying so hard, but it's all failing. Doesn't anyone notice? What is so wrong with me?" Tears streamed down his face, a raw and agonizing cascade. "Am I so unlovable?" he choked out, collapsing into his mom's gentle embrace as she moved to sit beside him on the bed.

She held him, her own heart clenching with a helpless ache. The familiar warmth of her son's body felt alien, like now, a ghost of the little boy who once came to her with every scraped knee and small sorrow. This was different; this was a soundless, soul-crushing despair. Beomgyu didn't share his burdens anymore, and she found herself standing on the outside of his pain, desperate to get in. She felt useless. The soft words she murmured against his hair, feeling hollow and insignificant. A memory flashed in her mind- the sight of her son on the ground with a badly sprained ankle. Back then, she could always call a doctor and know he would heal. But now, she faced with this deep, invisible wound, and she was powerless. She never wanted to see him hurt like this, after his incident. In a way she couldn't fix.

​When Beomgyu finally calmed down, a dam broke inside him. He started to pour out everything that had been churning in his mind.

​"Mom," he began, his voice barely a whisper, raw and broken.

​She simply nodded, her hand gently stroking his hair, a soft, silent promise that she was there.

​"I don't know what's wrong with me. These past few weeks... they've been a complete wreck." His words came in a frantic rush. "I don't want to finish school. I just want to be a soloist, but I can't even dance because of my stupid ankle. And my favorite idol... I finally got to see him, but he just keeps pushing me away. He won't even let me practice my guitar." Beomgyu stopped, a sharp sob catching in his throat, his chest heaving as he fought for air.

​His mother's heart spun at his sudden, painful confession. A cold pang of guilt seized her. How had she missed this? She listened to every choked-out word, her own eyes welling up with a silent pain. She knew she had to do something, anything, to fix the chasm that had opened between her son and his happiness.
​"Don't worry, dear," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I'll talk to your father about it."

​That seemed to bring a fragile peace to Beomgyu's storm. But the 'favorite idol' part of the puzzle remained, a knot she couldn't untangle.

​Later, she gently lulled him to sleep, pulling a pillow under his head so he was more comfortable. As she tucked the covers around him, her gaze fell on the faint, lonely glow of his guitar. A wave of emotions crashed over her. She smiled through a film of tears as she looked from the guitar to her son's peaceful, sleeping face. How had he grown so fast? A part of her desperately wished he could stay this innocent forever.

​But worry gnawed at her. He hadn't eaten anything all day, and she knew his insomnia was taking a heavy toll. She didn't have the heart to wake him from his first peaceful sleep in weeks.

​"Honey, I'm home," a voice called from the front door.

​And in that moment, she knew. She wasn't just going to "talk to his father." She was going to take matters into her own hands.