LuHan, holding a box of chocolates, anxiously, with trembling hands, knocked the door of apartment number 12.
“Baozi, it's LuHan.” He waited, as the door flung open and a petite man came out, with an amiable smile.
“Hello, did you came to see MinSeok?” LuHan's chest crushed a little at the image of a man,ordinarily coming out of his apartment with a bowl of ramen in his hand. Looks like he knows this place, like he stayed the night.
“Oh, no, it's nothing, sorry, wrong room I guess.” He bowed and left in haste, hoping to find a bar near, quickly.
He arrived at the shop and turned the lights on. Somehow, the created an impression of smaller... But in a perfect condition, MinSeok cleaned it up in his spare time, not a single bit of dust. He explored the stocks of CD's until his hands were holding his song. Comptine d'Un Autre Ete. The quiet melody of the piano sounded in the room, single notes of the polyrhytm, one louder than other, crescending and accelerating. More anguished, his own nursery, his own harmony, his own melody. He withdrawed into blackness when his eyes closed in the main part of the instrumental. Memories played back, so vivid, yet so dead.
“I'm not coming back Soo...”
All absurd. All lies. His life was a delusion, when he held YiXing but felt SuHo's arms around him. He made a pledged to not ever fall this hard again, to hold love back, to only stay for a while. He condemned himself for playing on his friend's feelings, the way the melody builds up, only to end unexpectedly, leaving a feeling a numbness and finality.
Was he deceiving himself each time he wished for a single call, a message? Desperately listening to this song to remember, because there was nothing left of him. Closing himself in this place, away from people, surrounded by melodies, only to be closer to where he was before, when a smile was something familiar and music was something that kept him breathing. In a place where he wasn't missing anything and someone was always holding his hand to lead him the right way.
The sound of the door opening distrated him from falling apart, as a single man came in peeking around and searching for something that was indeed the white grand piano. He stood in the door, beaming at KyungSoo and playing an imperceptible piano with his fingers, following the last notes of the lyric. He knew that song. He played it thousands of times before, yet the song was still as heartrending and worthwhile as before, haven't lost its excellence.
“Hi, I'm sorry, we're closed.” He sent an absent smile, but the stranger didn't propel, purely pointed to the door sign which read 'open'. KyungSoo must have forgotten to turn it around. He felt precarious but considered that one person wouldn't take much of his time, so he stepped into the role of a cashier once again. After hours.
“Would you like any help?” With a courteous voice, he tried gaining the customers attention, but there was no response. From the back, the boy seemed tall. Or...