Jinyoung's new apartment wasn't really even an apartment at all.
It was actually just a room on the third floor of Hillside Residences, a convalescent home for the elderly. Being just twenty-two, most people would find it weird for him to live in a home for the elderly, but it was private and affordable and the best Jinyoung could do on short notice and for such a short-term arrangement. It was already furnished, too, and he got it cheap because the owner of the convalescent home was Jackson's mother who, being a hopeless romantic, was sympathetic to his situation.
That, and he also agreed to take on three shifts a week on a volunteer basis. Two weekend morning shifts and one evening shift on Tuesdays.
It was easy work; Jackson's mother didn't even seem all that bothered by his lack of professional medical experience. She was walking through the room, pointing things out. Despite her age, she looked young and curvaceous and her hair was full and dark.
She told Jinyoung that most of his duties would include things like helping the kitchen staff prepare breakfast or helping some of the residents out of their beds and into their chairs or changing bedpans. Mostly, she just needed another strong pair of young arms, and in exchange for discounted rent, Jinyoung was happy to do the job.
"We have a company that comes by and does the linens on Thursdays," Mrs. Wang said, snatching the dusty linen sheet off the twin bed and rolling it up in her arms. Jinyoung stood in the doorway with a box of his things in his arms. Beside him, Jackson was carrying a second box of his belongings.
Jinyoung stepped inside and looked around the room. It was small, much smaller than the bedroom he shared with Mark back on Campus Drive. A twin-sized bed in the corner of the room. A square window in the center of the wall. There was also a bedside table with a vase full of daffodils and a lamp. On the opposite wall, there was a good-sized wardrobe and a desk. Meager, but it would do.
"Just roll up the soiled sheets and leave them outside your door," Mrs. Wang continued. "You got your bed, your desk, a wardrobe here. There's a bathroom down the hall. Breakfast is from 7 to 10, dinner is at 6, lunch for the residents is at 12:30 but you've gotta cover that one on your own. Following?"
"God, life here is like life in a religious order," Jackson said. "Never knew you ran such a tight ship, Ma."
"How do you think I'm putting you through college?" Mrs. Wang said. "Rent is due on the first of the month. If you won't be around, just stick it under the 'welcome' mat in front of the office. And don't forget, you've got two morning shifts and the graveyard shift on Wednesday."
After explaining his living situation further and giving her son a quick scolding about not coming home often enough, Mrs. Wang left the boys to unpack. Jackson made a show of dumping the box onto the desk and then straightening out and rubbing his back. Jinyoung squatted down and put his box down on the floor. Jackson looked around the room and whistled, commenting that Jinyoung had seriously downgraded from the three-bedroom apartment on Campus Drive. Jinyoung didn't answer him.
"Isn't it kind of morbid to call it the 'graveyard' shift?" Jackson asked after another beat of silence.
"What do you mean?" Jinyoung asked, starting to take items out of the box and lay them on the bed. Textbooks and cable wires. A watch and a pair of black leather Oxfords. A box of brand new pens and an amigurumi octopus. Jackson watched the sad way that his friend handled his own belongings.
"I mean... the graveyard is where most of these people are going really soon," Jackson said, trying to sound cheerful. "Seems kind of insensitive to rub it in their faces."
Jinyoung lifted a picture frame with a photo of his family in it and placed it on the bedside table. "Guess so," he said flatly. Jackson pursed his lips.
"Anyway, home sweet home, huh?" Jackson said, swinging his arms awkwardly. "We always did joke that you were a grandpa in a college guy's body." He laughed and waited for Jinyoung to make some snarky reply, but none came. He just continued unloading the box and laying items down on the bed, holding each one a little longer than normal, as if to caress it.
"You're sure your mom is okay with this?" Jinyoung asked after a while. "I really don't want to disrupt her—"
"It's fine, she totally doesn't mind," Jackson said. Jinyoung finally looked back at him, checking that Jackson was serious. His friend was opening up the wardrobe and hanging a garment bag inside. It contained the tuxedo Jinyoung had bought about a month ago along with some coats and shirts. The rest of his clothing had been stuffed into a luggage bag that now stood in the doorway.
He appreciated Jackson's help with getting his things settled into his new room, but the careful way that he was moving around the room and watching his words was making Jinyoung uncomfortable.
"Tell her thanks, again, if you see her on the way out," Jinyoung said. Jackson turned and stared at Jinyoung, blinking. Jinyoung met his gaze for just a second before turning back to unloading. Jinyoung had run out of things to take out of the box, but Jackson watched as he kept picking up and then tossing down each item, the amigurumi octopus, the Oxford shoes, the watch.
"Yeah, sure," Jackson said. Another beat of silence. "Are—are you okay?" Jackson asked. Jinyoung stopped for a minute and turned.
"Yes," Jinyoung said.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm fine, Jackson," Jinyoung replied, too fast. Jackson looked over the collection of items on the bed and felt sorry for Jinyoung. He really ought to get rid of some of these things, Jackson thought. There were too many things that reminded him of her.
"Do you need anything?" Jackson asked again.
"No," Jinyoung said.
"My shift at the bar is gonna start soon. You sure you don't wanna just hang out with a pint?" Jackson said as a last attempt, but Jinyoung held his gaze longer to make him see that he meant what he said.
"I should unpack," Jinyoung said, his voice flat again. "And I think your mom wants to give me an orientation later. Thanks, though."
With that, Jackson nodded and walked toward the door. When he was nearly out of the room, though, he shook his head and then turned back to Jinyoung one last time.
"Just give it some time," Jackson said sadly, and his words made Jinyoung tense up. "You'll forget her soon enough. Him, too."
He was out of the room and down the stairs by the time Jinyoung had recovered enough to return to the task of unpacking. But by then, he was no longer in the mood. Jinyoung walked to the door to close it, and then he looked around the room. The juxtaposition of the strange environment and the homely familiarity of his belongings gave him an odd feeling. He walked back to the bed, put his hands on his hips, and examined the array of items that lay there.
Almost exactly a month ago, Jinyoung had come back to the Campus Drive apartment unexpectedly early from a trip back to his hometown and found his girlfriend sitting on the couch making out with his roommate.
Jinyoung looks his hands from his hips and rubbed his face, as if trying to rub the memory from his mind. It was an image that would haunt him forever: his girlfriend, Nawon, with her arms wrapped around the back of Mark's neck, his roommate suck on her face, both of their breaths mingling.
"What the fuck?" he had shouted as soon as the shock had passed and realization rammed into him like a speeding bus. The two untangled from each other's arms. Nawon's lips had been swollen, and Mark looked paler than usual. Jinyoung stopped there, not wanting to remember anymore of that moment. There was screaming and crying and a lot of confusion. In the end, Jinyoung had just stormed straight out of the apartment and headed straight for the bar where Jackson worked.
On Campus Drive, Jinyoung had lived with three other boys: Mark, his roommate, a sophomore, Yugyeom and a Thai exchange student that they called Bambam. Jackson lived with his relatives in an apartment downtown, and he turned out to be the only one in their group of friends who didn't know that Mark and Nawon were going behind Jinyoung's back.
When Jinyoung found out that they all knew, he dropped his friends except Jackson. He ended his relationship with Nawon, and moved out of that Campus Drive apartment. For a few weeks, he stayed with Jackson while he looked for another place to stay. Hillside Residences popped up a few weeks later.
Jinyoung looked down at the items again.
He would have liked to get rid of everything he owned that reminded him of Nawon, but that simply wasn't sensible. He could easily throw out amigurumi figures she crocheted for him on his birthday, but it was harder to throw out a pair of black Oxfords she bought for him since they were the only pair of formal shoes he owned, and he'd need them for graduation. They dated for just seven and a half months, but she had carved out such a large space for herself in his life. Now that she was gone, he felt light, like he could disappear with the next gust of wind.
Like Jackson, everyone else who knew about his and Nawon's breakup treated him like a broken figure or a lost child, trying to console him with small talk and pints of beer. But Jinyoung was long over mourning the lost relationship, he thought. He was no longer depressed; he was annoyed.
He moved the items aside and sat down on the bed. No more girlfriend. New apartment. Graduation in four months. Still no word from med schools. What now?
As he was sitting and contemplating his next move and what an irritating clusterfuck his life had become, he looked down into the box and found a brown manila envelope at the bottom of it. Jinyoung sighed as he reached for it. He knew what was inside, he'd already opened it. On the train on the way back from his hometown. He opened it up again and two smaller envelope fell into his lap. One had his name on it. He slid his thumb under the flap and took out the letter.
"Dear Jinyoung," the letter began.
"By the time you read this, I will most likely have passed on already. I hope you won't be too upset. The thought of upsetting so many people is really the only thing that's making this so hard. I've had a good run these 60 plus years, and I've met so many people that have made my life vibrant and worthwhile. You are one of them.
"I have been teaching 13 year olds for thirty years, longer than I haven't been teaching. But in all those years of teaching, I still believe you were one of the most exceptional. You were always hard working and responsible and honest. Before I got sick, I had always wanted to reach out to you and suggest catching up over lunch or something. But I see now that that won't be possible. I'm disappointed that I won't be able to see the kind of man you've become, though I have faith that you've grown up to meet and exceed all my expectations.
"In these darks days, it gives me comfort knowing that young men like you are still in this world and that I played a part in your growing up. I remember an essay you wrote once, in my class. You said that when you grow up, you wanted to be a superhero. I laughed reading that bit, but you went on to explain that you meant a superhero like your father, the town's fire chief who had just saved a young girl in a burning department store.
"I hope you haven't given up on this dream. Too many of the "superheroes" in our society are vain, arrogant men who are looking more for an ego boost than a real chance to help people. The world needs more heroes like you.
"Anyway, I ought to say goodbye. I'm sorry I was never able to arrange that lunch meeting with you. I wanted to arrange a meeting with Kim Jisoo, as well. As you know, she was also a brilliant student, one of the brightest. Please do me, your beloved ailing teacher, a favor: when you get this letter, call Kim Jisoo and arrange a lunch meeting with her. The two of you can reunite and reminisce about the good days of middle school together, and I will be there with you in spirit.
"All the best,
"Mr. Hong"
Jinyoung sighed as he put the letter down and rubbed his temples. A superhero. Yes, that was what he said he wanted to be when he grew up. That was ten years ago, he was twelve. He no longer wanted to be a superhero. Right now, he didn't feel very heroic at all.
Jinyoung looked back at the letter. Specifically at the last part of it. He had gone back to his hometown a month ago to attend Mr. Hong's funeral, but the trip back had also forced him on a stroll down memory lane. And most of the memories on that lane that involved Kim Jisoo weren't exactly the most pleasant. Yes, she was a brilliant student, but she was also petty and rude and arrogant and self-important and she hated his guts as much as he hated hers. Under no other circumstances would he even think about reaching out to her again. Get lunch with her? He would sooner stick needles into his eyeballs.
But this was Mr. Hong. The teacher that inspired him most as a kid. And this was Mr. Hong's last request, his dying wish. If not downright rude or blasphemous, surely it was bad luck to deny a dying man his last wish, right?
Jinyoung sighed again. He'd been sighing a lot lately. The second envelope had her name on it, which he assumed was another letter of similar nature to his. He could just mail it to her. But then the guilt of not following through on the favor Mr. Hong asked of him would weigh on his conscience. He also could just do nothing, but a person of strong moral character such as he couldn't stand the thought of not keeping a promise. He dug his phone out of his pocket and then opened up his contacts list. Her number was there in his phone. All it would take was one call.
He hesitated.