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Yifan can’t move a finger without his permission. He’d never do something Junmyeon wouldn’t like. No one saw Junmyeon, no one but Yifan. He is sitting on the chair with his reading glasses on, he is brushing his hair in front of the mirror, he was leaning against Yifan’s shoulder a minute ago, he is everywhere but nowhere at the same time. He is intangible, maybe because he doesn’t exist or maybe he does but only for some. Yifan is sick of people telling him that he has gone crazy, that he is seeing things because he can’t draw a line between the coherent world and the incoherent one. “He doesn’t exist, it’s a hallucination your mind keep making as a cope up mechanism”. Why are they being like this he asks. “They are jealous babe, they can’t see us together” is what Junmyeon will always tell him, holding him close, hiding him from himself.
Yifan and Junmyeon have been together for last 22 years. They grew up together with Junmyeon right by his side, just like his guardian angel. That’s what Yifan likes to call him. His guardian angel, always telling him what is good for him and what is not. Jun smiles at him when called.
His dad left him when he was 4. His mom passed away when he was 19. He met people but none of them stayed. He had few flings but not a single one of them gave him anything worth fighting for. Junmyeon was the only one, the transcendental reality. The only one opening the window of the place he never wants to leave.
Yifan’s days are spent sitting in front of his personal computer, frowning, doodling shapes and designs and Junmyeon teaching him how to put his talent to use. His nights are spent on the roof top, talking about endless things, asking about meaningless stuff from Junmyeon. But Jun never turned him down, with his hand on Yifan’s chest, he will answer why they can’t meet his friends, why they can’t click photographs together, why they can’t go shopping for Junmyeon, why they can’t adopt a pet, why Yifan should not talk about him with strangers, why Yifan should not talk to anyone but him.
He first met him when he was 4. His mother dropped him at the day care and after crying for 15 minutes he sat alone with his toy car. This became a routine, his mother dropping him at daycare, looking tired and coming back after what feels like years to pick him up looking much more exhausted. Father was always out, coming only on weekends. He runs to him only to be shrugged away. He asks him to take him out for ice cream, only to get shouted at. He knew something was not right between his parents when he heard them yelling at each other and throwing stuff around the house couple of times. But he couldn’t muster up the guts to step out of his dim room to see what’s happening downstairs. He needed affection, he needed care, he needed someone to draw with, to make bed castles with, to blow soap bubbles with, to share candies with, he needed a friend. He remember praying to God every night to send someone. To send one of his angels. And that’s when he heard footsteps in the room. A small figure dressed in the same galaxy pajamas as his own stepped closer to the corner of his bed. He was around his height, maybe he was around his age too. With a bunny plushy tucked under fragile arm, and a bright angelic smile he introduced himself and his bunny friend. Junmyeon, he called himself. They talked all night. From that moment Junmyeon has been around him.
Yifan finds him when he is drunk, he finds him when sober, he finds him sitting next to the bed when he is fucking the guy from his English class, he finds him around when he sucked the life out of his girlfriend’s lips, waiting for instructions, waiting for directions. He finds him around when he visited his mother’s grave, he finds him when he was kicked out of the bar, he finds him when he was locked in that dingy cell of the asylum. The only time he couldn’t find Junmyeon around when the doctor forced those pills down his throat. He knew something is missing. Someone should be there whispering what to do next, someone should be massaging his scalp with delicate finger tips, someone should be rubbing his nose in the junction of his neck, someone should be smiling at him from a distance. But no one is here. It feels uncomfortable. It feels hollow. Yifan is alone. Alone again.
No, he can’t be alone. He has to find this missing piece, but he can’t remember anything, can’t trace this silhouette in the back of his mind, can’t pin this feeling of emptiness down. He will remember once he will stop taking those pills. Next time when the doctor will turn up to give him the medications, he will trick him and run out of this place. Once he is out, he’ll be fine.
He ran and ran, barefoot, till his lungs couldn’t take it anymore, till his eyes started burning, till he tripped on nothing, till he lost his way, till he hit the hard ground and couldn’t get up. With tears running down his face and hair sticking to his forehead, he sat on his knees. Hopeless and waiting. Waiting for a miracle, waiting for a light, or maybe waiting for this to end finally.
He looks up and smile. Junmyeon is here, with his inviting open arms. Looking as fresh as a daisy in sparkling moonlight. He somehow gets up, still trying to catch his breath and falls in his guardian angel’s embrace. Smearing dirt and blood on junmyeon’s pristine white shirt. Muttering apologies under his breath for forgetting about him, for not being able to see him for last few days. He has no idea how much time has passed. He didn’t see his hair turning grey and falling off. He didn’t see his wrinkled skin around the eyes. He didn’t see his vision getting cloudy. He didn’t see those 20 years he spent looking for answers behind the tall walls of mental illness institute. He didn’t see Junmyeon for more than two decades but still it feels like it has not been that long. Junmyeon as usual smiles.