#juji-han

Monday, May 05. 07:30 AM

When you had woken up, you expected Wonwoo to text back. He would apologize, say he just had a headache and went to sleep, and that he didn’t mean to worry you. But he didn’t.

He didn’t respond yet. What the fuck is he doing? Your thoughts were consumed by Wonwoo. Where could a six-foot guy have disappeared? How are people so present, so active one moment and then another moment just… gone?

You grabbed your phone, going to Wonwoo’s contact.

Delivered

Your thumb hovered over the call button. Class was going to start soon, and if you bothered him now, he’d keep bothering and teasing you about how you were so worried about him.

Maybe he’s just busy… today’s the last class anyway, maybe he’s just busy studying for the final.

You grabbed your backpack and keys, a tiny sense of hope bubbling in your stomach. He’ll be there.

10:15 AM

Jihoon ran behind you, catching up to your strides, “How’d you do on the final?”

“Um, it was alright. I think I missed the last question, it didn’t make sense and I couldn’t really focus well.”

Jihoon hummed in agreement. He looked down at the floor, still following you to the parking lot. Jihoon’s head snapped up, “Have you seen Wonwoo?”

You stopped in your tracks. You had almost forgotten. How could you forget? Is that why you couldn’t focus? How could you forget that Wonwoo wasn’t here? What distracted you? Was it the too quiet classroom, or the tapping of pencils against the desks from students who were stuck on a question?

You stared at Jihoon with a blank face. Your eyebrows then furrowed, “No. I texted him last night, but he didn’t answer. I just thought he was studying for the final.”

Concealing your worry was hard. How could you forget he wasn’t in class with you?

What kind of friend am I?

Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you sent Wonwoo a message.

r u sick? text me back soon, please

11:07 PM

You laid on your bed, head hanging off the edge of the bed, feet barely touching the headboard. Mingyu laid next to you, his head resting on your pillows.

Wonwoo still hasn’t answered, and you still didn’t know why. Frustration and anxiety were the only emotions you could feel. Towards wonwoo for not answering and making you scared, and at Mingyu for not even caring.

You raised your head, resting on your elbows, core shaking. You stared at Mingyu. He scrolled through his phone, a focused expression on his face. Why the hell isn’t he concerned about Wonwoo?

You could feel a laugh of disbelief crawling up your throat. You shook your head, laying it off the edge of the bed again. With a sudden shake of your ankle, you looked up again.

“Why were you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” you mumbled, sitting crisscrossed. “It’s just that, why… aren’t you as concerned as I am?”

Your eyes stayed down, staring at your lap and picking at your fingers. Would he be insulted that you just accused him of not being worried?

“I am.” Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed, a frown forming. “I am, I really am. Don’t think I’m not.”

Mingyu grabbed your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, “Wonwoo… he- uh, he does this thing every once in a while, okay? He doesn’t answer, he disappears for a few days, and then, he comes back, as if nothing happened.”

You nodded, days of tears, from anger, frustration, fear, and anxiety, finally releasing themselves.

You just wanted to see Wonwoo again.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll tell the other boys to message him, okay?” Mingyu rubbed your shoulder, wiping your tears with his sleeves. “Don’t cry, it’s gonna be alright.”

You remember the first time you met Wonwoo. It was three years ago when you were a freshman at the University of Seoul.

You were friends with Mingyu first, you both had an art class together, and after talking for a while, you told him you had a film class. He had gotten so excited, telling you all about a friend who you’d like, and how you guys had similar interests. Interested in the friend Mingyu kept talking about, you suggested meeting up at a diner that you’ve gone to since you were a kid.

The following day, Mingyu rushed into the diner, Wonwoo following behind him, eyes locked on Mingyu’s back. You spotted the tall man, his smile wide, eyes scanning the diner for you.

You raised your hand, waving, and grabbing the attention of Mingyu.

His long strides finally reached your table, where he scooted into the booth across from you.

Mingyu spoke fast, as if he was rapping, the excitement of a puppy in a six-foot-two man’s body, “Hi. I almost didn’t see you. I wanted you to meet my friend too. Good thing you’re here.”

Mingyu shrugged his coat off, tugging on Wonwoo’s arm so he could sit down.

“This is Wonwoo. He’s shy, so- yeah. He’s shy.”

You gave Wonwoo a tiny wave, and he returned a tight lip smile, pushing his glasses up, “Hello.”

“I like your hair.”

Wonwoo muttered thanks, reaching up to try and fix his already neat red hair.

Mingyu stared at the two of you, a small smile forming on his face.

“So... let’s talk.”

From that point on you remember feeling close to both boys. The three of you spent as much time as you could together. Three best friends, who would always stay together.

Tuesday, May 06. 10:23 PM

You sat in the diner. Alone for the first time since you met Mingyu and Wonwoo. The fluorescent lights hummed and the sound of ceramic cups clashed against their matching ceramic plates.

You stared at your phone, going through your messages with Wonwoo. It’s only been four days since Wonwoo went ghost, yet it felt like an eternity.

You missed having him close to you, your guys’ hands brushing against each other and you both blushing.

There was a time before Wonwoo, but you barely could remember it. It felt like you’ve guys been together forever.

When your phone dinged, you immediately opened your phone, Wonwoo’s contact opening.

i’m sorry.

You read over the message over and over. It’s was like your thumbs were frozen. If you responded, would he respond? You couldn't deal with the silence anymore, but you had to know he was okay.

where are you?

Minutes passed. No response. You felt tears well up, a lump forming in your throat. Slapping your phone on the table, your head fell into your hands.

What the fuck. Are you fucking kidding me right now?

You shook your head, pushing your hair back. Wonwoo was going to be the death of you. Your heart ached, and it felt like nothing would soothe it.

Wiping hot tears, you stood up from the booth, leaving a five-dollar bill on the table. Fuck this.

You walked to your car, slamming your door shut, your grip on the steering wheel tight.

You wanted to speed and get to Wonwoo’s house as fast as possible. When you got there, you wanted to bang on his door and yell for him, even if it meant waking up his neighbors. At the same time, you wanted to drive as slow as possible, maybe you’d get an answer while you were driving, and he’d say, right here. waiting for you.

When you arrived at Wonwoo’s apartment, you knocked on his door. Your first knock was quiet and considerate. The second was more confident. The third knock was loud, all of your frustration pouring out into the knock.

The doorknob slowly turned, only to reveal Jihoon.

“Why are you here?”

Jihoon didn’t answer, turning his body to the side, giving you space to come in.

“Jihoon... what's going on?”

He shrugged, sighing and running his hands through his hair, “Wonwoo’s gone. His clothes, his shoes, mostly everything. It’s all here.”

You stared at Jihoon. The words weren’t processing. Wonwoo. Gone.

You pushed past him, going to Wonwoo’s room.

His room was neat, with everything put away. You slowly walked around his room, placing your hand on his desk.

“It’s dusty.” You stated. Jihoon, who stood at the doorframe, sucked in a breath.

“Yeah. Which means Wonwoo hasn’t been here for a while.”

You turned around, wiping your hand on your jeans. You walked over to Wonwoo’s closet, Jihoon’s eyes following your every move.

Maybe there would be something in his closet. A box that held a notebook with all his secrets written inside. Maybe a location would be written down, a place he disappears to, just in case he might forget one day.

But his closet was empty. No boxes, just hung-up shirts and shoes neatly placed on the floor in two rows.

You stepped back and sat on the edge of his bed. Jihoon slowly stepped over to you, sitting next to you.

You felt Jihoon’s hand on your shoulder, his gaze burning into the side of your head.

If you looked into Jihoon’s eyes, you would cry.

“I’m sick of crying.” You whispered. Jihoon rubbed your back, staying silent.

That night was quiet. Only the sounds of buzzing cicadas, and the faint footsteps of the upstairs neighbors.

You spent four days in disbelief that your best friend was gone. With the proof finally in front of your eyes, your world came crashing down.

Wonwoo was really gone.

Saturday, May 03. 12:19 AM

When Wonwoo imagined leaving, he imagined it with you by his side. You would be in his passenger seat, fingers tapping to a beat. You guys would leave after saying goodbye to all your friends. Mingyu would cry and insist he can fit in the trunk, but ultimately let you guys go.

Instead, Wonwoo packed his stuff up alone, leaving his life behind at midnight. He started his car, thinking of you. When he leaves, how would you respond? Would you look for him?

As much as Wonwoo wanted to text you a place to meet him at, he wouldn’t.