After Seokjin, the least likely person Jeongguk could have imagined to rescue them, did just that, they drove for hours. No distance they could travel was too far from Mrs. Choi or the bouncer, who had each over-proved their dedication to Jeongguk's utter demise—but they got as far away as they could: Busan. Before their journey, however, they needed to get Jeongguk in stable condition. His skin was pale and glossed over in a sheen of cold sweat as his head lolled against Haneul's shoulder in the backseat of the car. His thoughts, already muddled from the sheer blood loss, tangled even more at the sight of Seokjin, driving as fast as he could away from the apartment complex. Why was he here? Why would he care enough to save them? Jeongguk had thought Seokjin's conscience wouldn't be tarnished in the slightest if something bad had happened to him—his former best friend had made it painfully clear that he didn't care about him anymore. None of it made any sense, and the bullet penetrating Jeongguk's abdomen didn't make processing the information any easier.
"Where do I do? Where should I go?" Seokjin had asked, voice full of panic, hands gripping and re-gripping the steering wheel. Jeongguk couldn't find the energy to speak, so he focused on keeping his breath semi-even and keeping himself awake despite the overwhelming fatigue that was beckoning him. He could hear Haneul's cream and honey voice murmuring words to him as her hands pressed firmly into his wound, crimson staining her skin. The sight of his blood on her trembling hands and the searing pain made him queasy. Taehyung, however, made no move to answer Seokjin's question, merely sitting silently in the passenger seat, eyes devoid of emotion as he stared at the gun in his hands. No doubt, he was in shock, horrified of what he had just done in a spur of the moment, life or death decision.
"I-I don't know. I—" Haneul started, as soon as she realized Seokjin's question had been hanging in the balance for too long. "The hospital. My hospital. Seoul National." She cried.
"Are we going to admit him?" Seokjin asked.
"We can't. They'll make him stay for post-op, and the police will get involved since it's a gunshot wound—it's too dangerous. The police treat Wanderers like shit, and my—" Haneul paused momentarily, voice faltering. She wiped furiously at the tears in her eyes, simultaneously smudging Jeongguk's blood across her cheeks and feeling ridiculous for crying at a time like this, but she had just begun to process that her own grandmother not only tried to kill her, but put the one she loves in this situation. No wonder she had told her all of those awful stories about Wanderers when Haneul was young...it all made sense. She internally kicked herself—if she had realized the correlation earlier, this may never have happened. "My grandmother and the bouncer are too close for us to stay long. We need to get as far away from Seoul as we can."
"You think they'll try to come after him again?" Seokjin asked incredulously, and Haneul nodded, eyes still glazed with salty tears.
"I know they will." She said softly, continuing to apply pressure to Jeongguk's stomach. "We can't admit him. I'll just...I'll do it myself." She said softly.
"You'll operate on him yourself?" Seokjin asks, surprised, and worried about the girl in the backseat. "Are you sure you'll be okay to do that?"
"I have to be." She says quietly, stifling a sob that threatens to escape as Jeongguk lets out a groan of pain.
"It hurts." He murmurs, and Haneul presses gentle, comforting kisses to his jaw and cheek.
"I know, Guk. I know, but we're almost there." She says, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.
"Can I...can I take a nap?" He asks, blood loss making his lips feel like cotton and his mind full of fog. Any prior thought about keeping himself awake had disappeared into the murky abyss.
"No, baby. You've gotta stay awake, okay?" She says, voice soft but stern.
"But I'm...I'm so tired." He whines, and Haneul shakes her head, more tears escaping her eyes.
"Jeongguk, no. Stay with me." She said, voice louder now. Turning to Seokjin, she asked desperately, "Are we almost there?"
"Yeah, just a few more minutes." He answered, and in the rear view mirror, Haneul can see Seokjin's own waterline brimming with tears. She doesn't know what changed his mind on Jeongguk, but she is so grateful he did.
The few minutes it takes them to arrive at the hospital feel like hours. Getting Jeongguk out of the car proved to be more difficult than it was to get him in, due to his semi-conscious state, but with the help of Seokjin and Taehyung, they snuck him in through the back. They each jumped when a woman in scrubs rounded the corner, a nurse from the circulation desk, but with hushing from Haneul, she kept her concern to herself—especially after realizing she recognized Jeongguk from bringing Haneul muffins after her night shifts. The nurse helped them into the back room, and after Seokjin provided a brief explanation of why they needed to do the procedure, she insisted on getting trustworthy anesthesiologists, nurses and other surgeons to help.
Taehyung and Seokjin had been shooed to the back empty back hallways of the surgical wing to wait, and in the interim period, they were joined by a frantic Hoseok, who had been in the middle of a dance intensive when he had seen Seokjin's messages about Jeongguk. After four long hours of waiting, Haneul emerged, blood on her gloved hands, looking exhausted and emotionally drained but relieved nevertheless. He was going to be okay, but they still needed to travel. Haneul sat in the back of Seokjin's car with Hoseok, Jeongguk passed out across their laps with Taehyung in the passenger seat. The hours dragged on, Seokjin driving straight through the night with the only sound being Jeongguk's ragged breathing until they reached an inconspicuous motel outside of Busan. Carefully purchasing some rooms, for which Seokjin insisted to pay, they sneakily carried Jeongguk upstairs and laid him on the bed.
And that's where they've been for the past three days. Jeongguk's condition improved considerably, despite the unavoidable pain, so much to the point that he could sit up—and to the point that they were leaving. Not just leaving the shitty motel, or leaving Busan—but leaving the country. Too many people know him here, too many people hate him, want to hurt him. While Jeongguk had been deliriously high off pain medication for the past days, they had decided to book a flight through one of Hoseok's many connections who owed him a favor. How Hoseok's seemingly never ending list of people indebted to him came about, Jeongguk didn't know, but this one had gotten them on a flight to Italy, where Jeongguk and Haneul would stay until they figured out what to do next.
But what was there to do next? Jeongguk's near brush with death this time was one time too many for his friends and his lover, so he didn't want to argue with their executive decision to uproot his life. Yet, he wondered what good it would do. He wondered if he was worth going to all this trouble for.
Now, Haneul's tender hands change the bandages on Jeongguk's wounds. He sits on the bed of their motel room shirtless before her, jeans hugging his thighs, mouth pulled taut into a expression of pain despite Haneul's efforts to be gentle. She murmurs apologies for each wince, each flinch, each ripple of agony across his handsome face. He grips the covers so hard his knuckles turn white, but finally, Haneul withdraws her hands from his bandages to unclench his fists and slip her fingers into the void space.
Jeongguk looks up at her for the first time in a while, as he had been opting for a random place on the floor during the unpleasant experience of her tending to his wounds. He can see the concern on her face, the same pure worry that has been radiating off her for the past three days. Eyebrows knit, plump bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Consistent touches that are meant to be comforting to him, ones conceived with the best of intentions, ones that are meant to make him feel loved and safe and special—
So why does Jeongguk feel this way?
So undeserving of all the love and comfort she has given him, so guilty for causing so much unnecessary hurt for Haneul, for Taehyung, Hoseok, and Seokjin. So disgusted with the essence of who he is—a coward, someone who's been running from himself for his entire long life, someone who has caused others so much pain just by being associated with them. More disgusted with himself than he's ever been. He doesn't understand why his friends are going to such an extent for him, why they were even his friends in the first place. He's more trouble than he's worth.
What he does understand is why Haneul's grandmother hates him so much, why the world hates him so much. Why they want to kill him so badly; why they would sacrifice their own flesh and blood to see him hurt the way he made them hurt. The hate they feel for him is far from superficial, rather, it runs deep. It's programmed into their DNA sequences and engraved into the marrow of their bones and carved into the empty hollow spaces between their rib cages. The void where their hearts should be, but aren't, because he shattered them into smithereens.
He understands it to the point that he starts to feel that way about himself, too. He finally realizes that the silver linings he used to see in everything were just a figment of his imagination constructed to make him feel better. And he wonders why it took him so long to realize just how much of a disgrace to the world he is. He wonders why it took hurting so many people to understand. He wonders why it took seeing the woman he loves with the barrel of a gun pressed to her temple and tears streaming down her cheeks to see how toxic of a presence he is in the lives of those around him. And this realization, this epiphany that occurred in that moment—it took away every ounce of fear and desperation and fragile humanity that he would have previously felt when he held the gun up to his own head.
Because, in that moment, he was exhausted, not with a fatigue that can be cured by sleep, but exhausted by life in and of itself. And he honestly didn't even care if he lived or died. If it meant putting the people he loved out of the misery he caused them, he would do it in a heartbeat. If it meant finally, finally being done with the burden he has carried for two hundred years, then he didn't mind. If it meant finally being able to sleep, then so be it.
But he doesn't know how to tell Haneul that. Doesn't know how he could even try to tell Haneul that without breaking her even more. He entered her life with the chaos and devastation of a hurricane—but there was no eye of the storm, no period of peace and serenity. He knows he needs to leave before he causes even more damage, because whether she knows it or not, hurting is his nature.
Hurt people hurt people, and Jeongguk can't seem to stop.
He knows he needs to leave her soon. He knows he needs to get on that plane without her, but—true to his character, he notes—he's too damn scared to say a word.
So he says nothing. Nothing of substance, anyways, as they pack the few belongings they have, meet Seokjin at the car, and drive to the terminal. Jeongguk participates minimally in conversation, devoting all his concentration to his arm thrown over Haneul's shoulders, soaking in the feeling of her close to him. He watches her features reflect her emotions, watches the solemn yet relieved smile that consistently sits on her plump lips. He savors her every move and her every touch like a man on death row devouring his last meal, like a sinner succumbing to his guilty pleasure moments before going to confession and facing retribution.
A small voice in the back of his mind tries to convince him not to follow through with the plan he has orchestrated in his head, but the majority of his conscience stifles the voice. He has to do this.
Stepping out of the car after the half hour drive, Jeongguk offers a smile to Haneul as she hands him the crutch he uses to keep himself upright. He watches as a man from the plane rushes forward, and shakes hands with Hoseok. Upon a closer look, he recognizes him, and Haneul does, too.
"Wooseok?" She asks in surprise. The man, Wooseok, glances over Hoseok's shoulder.
"Oh, Haneul. Hi." He says awkwardly, and then his eyes flick to Jeongguk. Guilt washes over his features, and Jeongguk realizes where exactly he recognizes him from. He was the man who opened the door to Haneul's apartment in minimal clothing all those months ago. "And you must be Jeongguk. I'm so sorry about—"
"Don't be." Jeongguk interrupts him, and relief floods his face. "It is okay."
"Why are you here?" Haneul asks, still baffled at the sight of him.
"Wooseok here was one of my nurses in the hospital." Hoseok says, gingerly brushing over the spot where he was shot with the slight of his hand. "His father owns a private flight company, and I did Wooseok a favor once. Good to see I don't have to introduce him to you two—but, Seokjin, Taehyung, this is Lei Wooseok." Hoseok explains. Wooseok shakes Seokjin's hand, and then Taehyung's, but Jeongguk doesn't miss the way their hands linger in each other's grip, the way their eyes connect as if magnetically. There's something there, he can see it. As unlucky as he has been with love until recently, Jeongguk has lived long enough to know exactly what finding a soulmate looks like.
"Right, so," Wooseok continues, shaking himself from his Taehyung-induced daze. "The plane's about ready for takeoff, I'll get the captain and crew ready." He says, and then he walks back toward the plane, leaving the five others alone and dreading what they know is coming next, and Jeongguk even dreading what they don't.
Seokjin approaches him first. His footsteps are cautious, and Jeongguk manages a small smile when he sees how nervous his former best friend is. As soon as the smile breaks out on Jeongguk's face, Seokjin surges forward and hugs Jeongguk tightly. Wincing at the pain that flares in his bullet wound, Jeongguk hugs back gently. "Sir, you're hurting me." He chokes out, and Seokjin loosens his hold, but doesn't let go for another few minutes. When he finally does, there are tears in his eyes. "Do not cry, sir." Jeongguk insists, and Seokjin chokes out a laugh.
"How many times have I told you not to call me sir?" He chuckles, and this gets a laugh out of Jeongguk. Once their laughter dies down, the younger man rests his hand on Jeongguk's shoulder. "Jeongguk—hyung—I'm so sorry. I will never forgive myself for how I treated you. And I wish I stopped being so stubborn earlier. I wish we could have been friends longer, before—before all of this." Seokjin cries, gesturing to the plane.
"It's alright. I forgive you. You made up for it in the end. You saved me, but more importantly, you saved Haneul, and Taehyung." He says, and before he can say anything else, Seokjin is clinging to him again. Patting his back, Jeongguk has an idea. "I do know one more thing you can do for me." He murmurs, careful to make sure that only Jin could hear.
"Anything." Seokjin said.
"Take care of Haneul for me. Please. I know she won't need it, she's the strongest person I know, but if she ever does—"
"What?" Seokjin pulls back slightly. "Hyung, she's going with you—"
"Sir." Jeongguk interrupts him, giving him a look. He can see the understanding register on Seokjin's face, followed by more tears gathering at his waterline and the clenching of his jaw.
"Okay. I will. I promise." He says, and Jeongguk nods.
"Thank you. Thank you for everything." Jeongguk says sincerely, and then Seokjin is retreating back to the others, only to be replaced by Hoseok lunging forward and hugging him tighter than ever, almost knocking Jeongguk's crutch off traction. The pain Jeongguk feels is overcome by the sobs and tremors that shake Hoseok so violently, and Jeongguk can tell Hoseok has been holding them in for a while. "Hoseokie. Seok, breathe. Breathe." He coos, clutching his crying best friend as his tears soak into his shirt.
"Promise. P-Promise you'll call me every day, and that you'll take your medicine, and that you'll still go to dance classes and read all your books and listen to old music and find a job that isn't making stupid fucking coffee, and get healthy amounts of sleep, a-and—" Hoseok rambles, pausing to inhale shakily. "And promise me you won't let yourself go back to how you were before. Promise me you'll make new friends and go out and have fun, because I won't be there to drag you out of your house anymore. Please, just promise me you'll be happy." Hoseok cries, hand pressing to Jeongguk's cheek firmly. Jeongguk's heart aches for his best friend, and he wonders how he can be so caring and kind despite all that Jeongguk has put him through. And Jeongguk's guilt only intensifies because he knows he probably won't carry out Hoseok's wishes, because he knows he doesn't deserve happiness or friends like Hoseok thinks he does. But, for the sake of his sobbing best friend with a heart of gold, Jeongguk nods.
"I will. I promise, Hoseokie." He says. "Thank you for being the best friend I ever had." At this, Hoseok loses all the composure he had gathered during his little speech.
"Shit, you can't say things like that and expect me to be fine, you asshole." Hoseok cries, and peels himself off of Jeongguk. "I'm gonna go sit in the car before I drown us all in a river of my own tears. I love you, you dick." He says, and Jeongguk laughs at his dramatics and watches as he does just that.
Finally, Taehyung approaches Jeongguk. His blue hair is fading, but his eyes are brighter than ever. Rather than the hesitation of Seokjin's hug or the aggression of Hoseok's, Taehyung gracefully and gently wraps his arms around Jeongguk, burying his face in his shoulder. The purity of the gesture makes Jeongguk want to cry, but he forces himself not to. Instead, he says, "I'm sorry, Tae."
"For what, hyung?" He asks, confused.
"For not being the person you deserve. Because you deserve love so much, Taehyung. And I promise you'll find it." Jeongguk says, and Taehyung manages a small smile. "You deserve someone so much better than me, more than I could ever give you."
"I know." Taehyung says, and Jeongguk laughs a little.
"Thank you for everything. You saved my ass so many times." He says.
"And I'd do it all over again." Taehyung says sincerely, and Jeongguk gives him a squeeze of appreciation before letting go. As soon as he does, he feels a hand interlace with his own, and the warmth and size returns the momentarily forgotten dread to the pit of his stomach. He looks down at Haneul, who stands next to him, a smile on her beautiful face. Jeongguk feels nauseous.
"You ready?" She asks him. Jeongguk almost says that he isn't. That he just wants to sit here and look at her and take her in in her entirety for just a little longer. That if he could stop time, and go back, and relive every moment they ever spent together, he would. But instead, he gently removes his hand from hers. He watches the confusion flash across her face, and tries to ignore the pang of guilt and hurt.
"Haneul." He begins, but is unsure of what to say next. He planned what he was going to do, but never got around to thinking of what to say. "Haneul, I—I need to leave." He deadpans, and Haneul raises an eyebrow at him.
"I know, Gukkie, we're leaving now. The plane's ready to go." She says, painfully oblivious, and Jeongguk finally thinks he understands what people mean when they say ignorance is bliss.
"No, Haneul, I—I need to leave. You...you need to stay here." He explains, and Haneul furrows her eyebrows at him. He aches to cave in to her, to let her get on that plane with him. But he can't. He can't let himself put her through any more of all of the chaos he creates wherever he goes.
"What?" She asks, voice barely there. She's smart, Jeongguk knows that. He knows the cogs in her mind are turning a million miles a minute and she's beginning to understand where this is going, but he can see on her face that she's refusing to believe it.
"You need to stay here." He repeats, more firmly this time, though his heart feels weaker and weaker with each second he watches her come to understand. "You can't come with me." He says, and he sees the fire flare in Haneul's eyes.
"When have you ever been the one to tell me what I can and can't do, Jeon Jeongguk?" She snaps, and he can hear the denial in her tone now, along with the way it wavers.
"Ever since I started to be the one who put you in danger." He states. "You need to stay here. You need to stay far away from me, where I can't hurt you."
"No. No, Guk, you don't know what I need." She says, anger fleeting. I need you, is what her eyes say, but her bottom lip trembles and her throat feels like it's closing up with the growing lump in it and the words don't quite make it out of her mouth. They don't need to, Jeongguk already knows.
"You're better off without me. You're strong, and intelligent, and beautiful inside and out. You deserve better." He says, and Haneul lunges forward, wrapping her arms around him. She's crying now, he can hear it in her ragged breathing. Jeongguk doesn't hug back. "Please, Haneul. Please, darling, don't make this harder than it has to be."
"Jeongguk, don't. Please, don't do this. Let me come with you!" She pleads desperately. "We can get a house on the coast, and get m-married! We can spend all day listening to your old music, and reading, and going to the beach, and we can have k-kids and a dog and—and we can finally be happy!" She cries. "Don't you want that?" She asks him, and Jeongguk wants to tell her the truth: he does. He wants all of that and more with her; he'll do anything as long as it means being with her. But instead, he starts peeling her off of him, voice failing him. "Jeongguk—stop!" She shouts, holding on to any part of him she can grasp only for him to remove her hands. "Jeongguk, please! Please, don't do this! I love you!" She exclaims, sobbing uncontrollably. "I love you—"
"Then, stop! Stop loving me!" He snaps, cutting her off with his voice louder and colder than he intended it to be, but it does the trick. Haneul's hands fall limply to her sides. He's never raised his voice at her like that before. They're both breathing heavily, staring at each other, equally surprised by his outburst. Once the surprise fades from Jeongguk's face, Haneul can see a vacancy pass over his features, the same one that's been there for the past few days. A hollowness, empty, lackluster expression of utter hopelessness. Any trace of the man she fell in love with is nowhere to be seen. Jeongguk doesn't even resemble himself, all of his naivety tempered with wisdom to match his years, all of his purity and optimistic energy,
all of his youth—
Drained. Stolen. Completely and utterly gone.
A shell of the person he once was.
"After all this time." Haneul chokes out. "You've finally given up, haven't you?" She asks hoarsely. Jeongguk nods, finally allowing himself to cry.
"I'm sorry. I'm just...I'm so tired, Haneul." He says earnestly, eyes showing how pained he is to do this. "I really, truly am sorry. Please take care of yourself."
And with that, he turns, limping away on his crutch towards the plane. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Taehyung watch in utter disbelief. Hoseok and Taehyung are crying, but Seokjin only sighs, knowing what Jeongguk meant earlier. Haneul doesn't move, merely watches, stunned, as Jeongguk boards the plane. "I need you." She whispers, finally managing to verbalize the words, but it's too late. The wind stings her face as the plane takes off, and she watches it until disappears, blending in with the stars in the dark night sky.
Jeongguk is looking at those same stars, too, out the window. He tries his best not to compare them to the constellations and nebulae Haneul's freckles
made on her cheeks, as he frequently did. Their love was special—powerful, rare, once in a lifetime, like a shooting star, he thinks. And then he remembers what shooting stars are—meteors that strike the surface of the atmosphere, that cause wreckage and ruin and devastation.
He can't help but sigh, shaking his head at how fitting it is.
And then he pulls the window shade shut. He doesn't deserve to look at something beautiful, being someone so grotesque and detrimental.
He closes his eyes, but he knows he won't sleep.
WAVES - ACOUSTIC
DEAN LEWIS
A feeling I thought was set in stone
It slips through, my fingers
I'm trying hard to let go
It comes and goes in waves
It comes and goes in waves
And carries us away
I watched my wild youth
Disappear in front of my eyes
Moments of magic and wonder
It seems so hard to find
Is it ever coming back again?
Is it ever coming back again?
Take me back to the feeling when
Everything was left to find
THE END.