Remember Me

Soapy water slides over the smooth ceramic surface, bubbling on the iron grate of the drain. Smells like vanilla and chemicals. Hyunjin washes his face, letting the water run down his neck, shakes off his hands and dabs them with a towel. He straightens his short ponytail, looking in the mirror, and exits the bathroom. Changbin has not come yet. His apartment has become so familiar that Hyunjin has a favorite spot on the sofa and his own dark blue blanket. Having recorded one full-fledged track and received a rather positive, albeit small, reaction on the Internet, they decided to work on the music further. Seeing each other almost every day, people involuntarily draw closer, although Hyunjin always had the feeling that he had known him for a long time and understood his train of thoughts without any problems. Hyunjin finishes studies earlier and enters his apartment himself, dialing the code on the door unconsciously already. Changbin usually comes up in half an hour to an hour. Trust built up quickly and Hyunjin still does not understand how it happened. They talk a lot, mostly due to Hyunjin's habit of doing things against each other and leaving the last word to himself. He regrets his hot-tempered actions almost every time, but each time Changbin sits down and discusses what happened, and gradually Hyunjin finds it easier to control himself. He likes that he could talk to this person directly. Hyunjin by nature always dumps everything without a filter and the fact that Changbin is just as straightforward is very approachable and helpful. The view from the window is as dull as ever. Hyunjin looks at the houses below and catches a sense of crazy déjà vu. Every time. Even when he came here for the first time, he looked out the window and recognized this place. As if he had already seen it more than once, because even the pattern on the curtains on the fifth floor of the neighboring building was familiar. The whole apartment causes such a reaction. He doesn’t need to ask where something is. Hands themselves reach for the desired shelves. It was weird. Memory problems were not as serious as at the very beginning after coming out of a coma. Hyunjin discussed the past with his friends and parents no problem, but some moments he frankly did not understand. He could turn on the film and know its plot, recognize the scenes, although he certainly has not watched it - all the films he watched were mentioned in a special notebook. He could start reading a book and realize that he knows the ending. He could play songs that he has never heard for sure, because he was in a coma when they were released, and sing along with them. Hyunjin blames it on an injury, but sometimes it scares him. Why does he know things he is not familiar with? One evening, Hyunjin watches a dog running across the lawn through the window. When it is taken away by the owner, he steps back and plops down on the sofa next to Changbin, who was reading the notes from the university. They finished proofreading the new lyrics and waited for the food to be delivered. Hyunjin is about to take out his phone to run through social media when his head starts to drill from the inside. The doctor said that for the next year and a half, migraines would be normal after everything that had happened. For some reason, in this apartment they hit him more often and feel differently. It feels like something is trying to punch a hole in his skull and burst out. He exhales loudly through his nose. “Your head hurts?” Changbin puts down the notebook. “A little.” “Take a pill, I'll get some water.” He goes to the kitchen and returns with a glass. Hyunjin throws his well-known white oval, which disgustingly scratches the throat every time, into the mouth and drinks it with water. A daily serving of pills has become the norm. His brain howls harder and he grimaces resting his forehead against Changbin's shoulder. “Lay down.” Changbin grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to lie down on his lap, placing a pillow under his head. His fingers begin to slowly fiddle with the honey hair and Hyunjin smiles with the edge of his lips. It always feels easier around Changbin. For some reason, he was sure he could trust him. There is such reliability coming from him that he always calms down almost instantly. Yes, Changbin can be sarcastic and fool around as much as he wants, but if Hyunjin feels bad, then he immediately becomes serious and never leaves until he is sure that everything is alright. Hyunjin knows he cares about him. He just does not understand why. The way guys who fall for his looks treat him and the way Changbin treats him are different. Changbin does not just look at him, Changbin listens to him and understands him or at least tries to understand. Hyunjin lies for a while, feeling how everything inside calms down from the warmth of another person, and then turns around, lying on his back. “Will you tell me how we got know each other?” “We met in the park when I gave you a track to listen to.” “You know what I mean.” “We did not know each other.” “You're lying. I can see you're lying,” Hyunjin grabs his chin, forcing him to put down the notes again and look at himself. “Why are you lying?” “Hyunjin, we discussed this. You wind yourself up.” “I don't have that kind of problem with my fucking head to make up shit. I recognize your gestures, I recognize the tracks. How can I know them if we didn’t know each other?” “There’s nothing special about my gestures or the tracks,” Changbin sighs and taps Hyunjin’s knee. “It makes no sense for me to lie. Stop getting hung up on this already.” “Have we slept together?” The question turns out to be so unexpected that Changbin freezes for a second at first and then begins to laugh. If only Hyunjin knew they could not even hold hands. “You think there was such a possibility?” “Well, at least I see no reason why I could say no to you.” Hyunjin grins. His hand squeezes Changbin's shoulder and slides slowly to his forearm, touching the hot skin. They were friends, but Hyunjin actually realizes that he has been looking at him differently for a while now. He likes him, he wants to be next to him almost constantly, he wants to feel his hands on his body, but for some reason they are still stomping on the transition line. Changbin's fingers on his knee clench and begin to climb higher, as the intercom rings. The food arrived. “Fuck,” Hyunjin whispers to himself, sitting up as Changbin leaves to open the door. The mood drops back to normal levels, and the topic gets tossed aside. Come to think of it, Hyunjin cannot tell why Changbin would lie to him about whether they knew each other or not. Only if something serious happened between them, but since Hyunjin does not clearly remember absolutely anything and all his suspicions are based on fleeting déjà vu, then they did not communicate much, otherwise he would remember at least something. None of his friends has seen him and Changbin hang out together. And while all the evidence suggests that they did not know each other, Hyunjin’s gut is telling him that he not only knows Changbin but he knows him better than anyone else. On misty Thursday, Changbin gets stuck at the university. Hyunjin makes himself coffee, kills some time on the internet, laying on the sofa, and then decides to practice since he has nothing to do anyway. He wants to jot down a draft of new lyrics that popped up in his head during the day. Leaning over the armrest, he recalls that he did not take his backpack with him, because instead of classes there was a goofy event with chatter from the stage in the concert hall. He could use the notes on the phone, of course, but he hates typing such things since he constantly corrects something and highlights changes in tone. Hyunjin decides to borrow a couple of pages from one of Changbin’s not-so-important notebooks. There was a pile of useless papers from the university on the shelf. Many notebooks were more than half full, so if you tear out the sheets from there, the sheets connected to them on the other side may fall off. Hyunjin flips through a few until he finds a half-empty philosophy notebook. Changbin dislikes this subject and once said that he stopped writing because it would be easier to find all this heap of information on the Internet and print it out than to keep up with the professor. Hyunjin is about to open it in the middle and pull out two sheets when his name flashes in front of his eyes. He frowns, flips back and finds a page with some snatches of conversation. “Look at his desk there should be an answer sheet” “Yeah he even has children I guess.” “Goddammit Hwang Hyunjin I need the answers to the test not the teacher's dirty laundry.” “Are you a ghost or a private detective? Stop staring at his phone.” A violent migraine hits his temples as Hyunjin grabs the rack, trying to keep his balance. He bends in half and his consciousness jumps out of the reality. The study week squeezed out almost every drop of juice from Changbin. He walks into the elevator, leaning wearily against the wall. The only thing that gave him strength and acceleration was the thought that there was someone waiting for him in the house again. When you have someone to come back to, you will drag yourself through any obstacles by the scruff of the neck. He goes out on his floor, dials the combination on the code panel and enters the apartment. Surprisingly, the lights are off, although it was already dark outside. He takes off his shoes, throws off his windbreaker and flips the switch, walking inside. “Why are staying in the dark?” Hyunjin stands by the window with his back to him. He slowly turns around, and from the concentrated expression on his face Changbin understands that something is wrong. “Did something happen?” “Why didn't you tell me?” “About what?” Instead of answering, Hyunjin walks up to him and grabs his palm with his. He squeezes Changbin’s fingers lightly, rubs his wrist, moves to the elbow, slides up to the shoulder, along the neck and then puts his hand on his cheek, looking into the eyes. “Fuck, it’s so fucking cool to touch you,” Hyunjin leans forward and hugs him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pressing against his cheek. “Didn't you miss me, you stupid rain cloud?” Changbin freezes in shock, not being able to process what was happening. Hyunjin pressed against his chest makes his heart pound so wildly that he almost starts shaking. The name he called him makes something in his soul shrink into a ball. “Hyunjin? You... you remember me?” “Yes, you fucking moron,” there is discontent in his voice, but he still does not move away and only strengthens his grip, catching every sensation. “Thought you could get rid of me? I’m fucking back.” Feels like the air has been knocked out of the lungs. Changbin lets out a shaky breath and hugs him back tightly, closing his eyes. A typhoon is raging in his chest. Only if earlier it was a typhoon of despair, now it throws flowers and confetti around in euphoria. Fingers squeeze the back of his T-shirt. Hyunjin is back. His Hyunjin is back. His annoying insolent Hyunjin, who loves stupid quiz shows, yells in his ear in the morning, considers his classmates to be downright twats and bargains about who will choose the movie for the evening. “Why didn't you tell me anything?” “I didn't want to oblige you with anything. Your normal life and your life in a coma are two different realities. I didn't want you to think that you owe me something, especially a relationship. I am the one who knows you and perceives you as someone with whom I’d lived for several months. And to you I was a stranger." “Idiot, I am always me. And you are the center of gravity in all my realities. Even back then, in the park you were not a stranger to me. I felt like I knew you. Felt that we were connected. I told you about it a million times.” “There was a chance you wouldn’t believe me.” Changbin lets out a chuckle, relaxing. “You could’ve said that I’m a psycho and can go fuck myself.” “I knew right away that you were a psycho.” “Prick,” Changbin slaps his butt lightly. “So how did I do?” “In terms of?” “Did I win you over for the second time?” “Let me think.” Hyunjin pulls away, but only to give him a sly look and kiss him smiling on the lips. His fingers run down Changbin's cheeks, touch his ears, burrow into his hair. The part of Hyunjin that remembered everything about the life in a spirit form cannot calm down and literally revels in every touch, every sensation, every drop of his warmth. Now he knows what Changbin's skin is like, what his hair is like, how pleasantly he smells of a cool mint perfume. He wants to feel all this more and more without stopping. “Hell yeah you did,” Hyunjin replies out of breath as they stop a few minutes later. “You won me over for the second time.” Changbin smiles and kisses him briefly again. He no longer needs to control himself. He had been looking forward for it so much. After he and Hyunjin began communicating in "reality", he memorized every fleeting touch, because it used to be impossible before. Now he could grab him by the elbow, tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, push him with a shoulder. Hyunjin is real, made out of flesh and blood. He wants to hug him and never let go. There was a time when Changbin thought he had lost him. “So did you miss me? Before we met in the park.” “You know the answer.” “I want details.” “It's a little boring when no one is fucking my brain,” Changbin giggles, but looks him in the eye earnestly and sincerely. “My home is not home without you. It makes no sense for me to return when you’re not here, because no one is waiting for me.” “Is it you subtly suggesting me to move in?” “I suggest you to come back to me. To come back to your place.” “I have already come back. I'm home.” Hyunjin presses his forehead against his. “Now show me how much you missed me. Show me what I was missing as a ghost. Don't hold back.” “That’s a dangerous request. If I don’t hold back, you’ll have to wear turtlenecks for a very long time.” “Prove it. I’m such an asshole that I don’t believe you.” Once, Changbin had to give him up in order to let him live. It was excruciatingly difficult to return to an empty house every time, because there was no more soul in it. But now that this soul itself returned to him, Changbin does not want to let it go. He kisses his lips, face and body and it is not enough for him. The fervor with which Hyunjin responds to every movement and pulls him closer, longer, makes his head spin. Same for Hyunjin, who clings to him and slides his hands over his skin so greedily, as if he was afraid that this opportunity would disappear again. His life is split in two, but both these parts are tied by the same intersection, the same person that Hyunjin could not forget even if he wanted to. He always remembered him. Seo Changbin has always lived somewhere inside and is now registered there forever.