14. A Lie from the Future
O nly a handful of memories can endure the passage of time, even after decades pass. Among these, the memory of your first love stands out. There is nothing wrong with nostalgia or reminiscing about a first love, but sometimes, these things come pummeling down with the force of a thousand tsunamis. Sometimes, what used to be beautiful can fade into agony, especially when you know you can never have it.
That’s what Yunho thinks.
Sometimes, Wooju is his favorite memory; other times, he’s not. Most of the time, Wooju is just the heartache he wants to forget. And though Yunho will never admit it, the boy was indeed his first love, if not the only one he’d ever loved throughout the years, the innocence he wished he could keep in his pocket forever. Wooju is like a curse he can’t get rid of, one that’s engraved into him for life. He’s like every lilac tree blooming at home, flowering until the end of September, even when they’re not supposed to.
“So you were scouted on the street?” Sangheon gasps in disbelief as soon as class is dismissed.
Yunho casually bobs his head and weaves his way toward the crowded hallway, its plain white walls creating a sense of peace amid the chaos. He and Sangheon match each other’s pace as they maneuver through the sea of people and exit the building.
“I didn’t know you wanted to be an actor.” Sangheon still appears dumbfounded a few moments later. “Does that mean we’ll be seeing you on television?”
Yunho flashes a playful smile on his lips. “Probably. We’ll see,” he says. “You might or might not see me on TV, depending on how my conversation goes with this talent scout. I might need to go to a film school first.”
“Were you the only one scouted? How about Jihoon?”
“What about him?”
“I saw you with him. You were carrying him.”
“Ah, about that... He sprained an ankle. I was just trying to be nice, so I carried him to the infirmary.”
Sangheon stammers, “Is he okay?”
Yunho shrugs nonchalantly. “He should be.”
As they continue walking, Yunho’s eyes drift across the gate. The person he spots causes him to freeze in place.
There, Yunho finds Wooju standing under the iron statue. Wooju, whose eyes latch onto him with a hint of longing and vulnerability that shakes Yunho to the core, hesitantly approaches him.
Whatever Sangheon says next fades into the muffled background. Suddenly, all Yunho can see and hear is Jo Wooju. The boy utters his complete name, “ Ri Yunh o,” with familiarity, holds onto his hand, and pulls him into the school’s greenhouse, leaving Sangheon behind.
Here, time stands still.
For a moment, Yunho marvels at the nostalgic radiance surrounding the room, the diversity of plants lining the pristine shelves, the small, lush tree fountain standing in the middle, and a dozen fireflies flitting around the foliage.
Yunho flinches.
This reminds him of the magical doe he saw at the lantern bridge. He has been so preoccupied about starting over that he almost forgot where he came from.
Then Wooju’s voice rings in his head, “Yunho.”
Yunho startles before centering his gaze on Wooju.
“Don’t go, please,” Wooju begs him.
Yunho sucks in a sharp breath as he momentarily tears his gaze away from the raven-haired boy. He swears not to fall for those deceitful puppy eyes again.
“You’ve been ignoring me for days, even after I cooked porridge for you,” Yunho bites out, “and now you’re talking to me again? Can’t you make up your mind?”
“Don’t become an actor.” The words that escape Wooju’s lips puzzle Yunho even more as the boy squeezes his hand.
Yunho shoots Wooju a glare. “What?”
“Do you even know what it’s like to be a celebrity? The moment you choose that path, you can no longer go back to the life you once knew. Everyone will just treat you like a product, and you will have no choice but to act like one. You will have no control over your own life,” Wooju warns him. “Is it really something you want to pursue?”
Yunho’s glare deepens. “You’re a hypocrite,” he mutters, ripping Wooju’s grip off him. “You’re an actor yourself. Why can’t I be one, too? Besides, what would you know about what I want?”
Wooju’s expression morphs into one of shock as if he did not expect Yunho to refute him. It’s as though he thought he had the real Yunho in his clutches, forever his to behold.
“You think I wouldn’t recognize you?” Yunho sneers, his voice laced with contempt. “I’ve watched many shows and movies. I know what I’m getting into, so leave me alone, will you? Don’t act as if we’re close enough for you to tell me what to do. You don’t know me.”
Wooju seizes Yunho’s arm once again. “Don’t go,” is all he has to say for the taller boy to melt from within.
Wooju looks up, eyes glassy and lips parted. It’s as if he wants to say more—as if he has an answer that actually makes sense, but nothing comes out. He appears to be at an impasse, and Yunho knows it because he feels the same way. Because he assumes he knows Wooju so well.
So well that it hurts.
“Let go,” Yunho mumbles, his voice barely audible as he veers away from Wooju’s eyes once again. The truth is he likes the somewhat comforting warmth of Wooju’s touch, that unspoken longing he’s supposed to hate.
“Do you think it’ll make you happy?” Wooju questions in a strangled voice.
“What makes you think it won’t?” Yunho snaps, forcing himself to meet Wooju’s gaze. “As long as I become better than you, I’ll be happy. Even better if I don’t have to see your face anymore.” He jabs a finger into Wooju’s chest. “If you think being an actor is so bad, why don’t you just quit? You’re a terrible actor anyway. I hate your acting, your voice, your face. I hate you .” Because you make me feel powerless . “I hate everything about you, Jo Wooju.”
“If you hate me so much, then why do you watch the shows and movies I’m in?” Wooju retorts.
Yunho considers the question, and it takes him an embarrassingly long moment before the words find their way into his mouth. “Because your disgusting acting motivates me to be better,” he replies, his tone a mixture of uncertainty and frustration, a reflection of the chaos inside him—and with that, Wooju’s hold on him loosens.
“Should I make you hate me more then?” Wooju dares.
Yunho lifts an eyebrow. “What?”
Then Wooju pulls him closer, their hearts beating as one, and finally, after years of longing for this moment, Wooju leans in and kisses Yunho’s lips.