2.21 ARTIFICIAL LOVE: A good show

warning: click for light spoilers1

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Gay marriage isn't legal in their country but it doesn't stop them from dreaming. With enough money, it's not too inconceivable to hop to another country and just have the ceremony. 

Siwoo has the money. There are only two main reasons that stop them. One, being Siwoo's career, the fact that he's a public figure. Something like this is bound to turn to shit and there's no way to keep it completely hushed. Two, there's the matter of people.

Who would they even invite? And could they be trusted not to leak everything to the tabloids for money? Would they even have enough money to come abroad just for Beomseok's wedding?

He doesn't know why he thinks so much. Technically they've only been together for a year and a bit, and that isn't even counting the time they've actually been dating (can it even count as dating) so really, it's all just a big fantasy that they talk about nonstop. 

Seriously, it's nonstop. 

They talk about suits and venues. They talk of their itinerary and Siwoo even sifts through companies, photos, places, and prices. They talk about it so much, Beomseok almost believes that it's real.

Is it real? Beomseok lies in Siwoo's bed. Even though they always sleep together, their two rooms have yet to merge, their respective belongings separate. 

Siwoo has already left. He was gone before dawn had broken and left Beomseok alone. There are times when the idol gets so busy it feels like they hardly see each other. Recently, he started shooting a drama series. Recording and promotion for his next mini album is coming and Beomseok feels oddly lonely, surrounded by Siwoo's sheets, surrounded by Siwoo's scent.

He chides at himself for his dramatic thoughts and forces himself up. It's already 10 am. 

More than a year had gone by and nothing too strange had happened. Seriously, Beomseok should just learn to be grateful. So he tries to practice this elusive gratefulness and stretches. There's a bit of a mess in Siwoo's room. The clothes they discarded last night were still on the floor and laundry's to be done. Not to mention some items on the desk were left, misplaced.

It's something for Beomseok to do, so he does it, cleans up after Siwoo just because he can. Because he cares. The laundry's taken out and sorted. After that's done, Beomseok cleans Siwoo's desk. 

He finds an old photo album left at the side of the table and frowns, confused why such a thing might have been left on the table. Vaguely, his memories remind him, Siwoo talking about some silly project they're forcing him to be part of, which required him to share some childhood photos.

Curious, Beomseok flips open the book.

A smile lights his face immediately, caressing the sheen plastic that holds old photos in place. Siwoo was just as cute as a baby as he is now, Beomseok decides. He's just as angelic. Moments are captured when Siwoo is just barely learning how to crawl. He's with his parents both still well and healthy before the divorce and fallout that made the current Siwoo so distant from his parents.

There are even pictures of a fluffy brown dog. 

He wastes about an hour in the photo album, cursing when he realizes the time. There's still a scheduled stream he needs to get to eventually so he should probably put the photo album away.

That's when he remembers that Siwoo puts all his old, unimportant things in the back of the closet. So he takes the photo album and saunters over.

The thing is, Siwoo hates it when Beomseok asks about the box, so he assumes that whatever is in it, isn't for Beomseok's eyes.

It can't be that bad, Beomseok reasons. Even if it's just a bunch of crazy sex toys, Beomseok's not easily alarmed. He assumed it's just a bunch of other photo albums like the one he has in his hand. Still, he understands and respects Siwoo privacy and would never go out of his way to see what's in the box. (Still, he's curious.) 

But the back of the closest is stuffy and dark, the hanging swing of clothes too dense to look past even with his phone light because of all the clothes. He tried as he could to peel the box open but it was decidedly shut and not welcome to prying eyes. Beomseok grumbled but left without a choice he pulls the box out from its dark corner.

Dust stirs, causing Beomseok to cough. The four folds are crisscrossed on the top, no wonder it was so difficult for Beomseok to pry earlier. He doesn't mean to go through Siwoo's things though, just opening it enough to slip the album back inside but something catching his eye.

A school bag. It's a child's schoolbag, old and dusted, weathered with age but something about it is strikingly familiar and Beomseok's confusion melds into curiosity. He peels the box completely open. Next to the school bag are an assortment of items, of those things only two were photo albums shoved neatly to the edge of the box.

There's stuff like a bottle of laxatives that's been expired for years. Beomseok frowns at the yellowing label and cannot fathom why Siwoo would keep such a thing. He puts the bottle down and returns to the schoolbag, pulling it out.

Didn't he have the same one as a kid? It was one that got stolen when he was a child. Confused, he turns the schoolbag around and that's when everything stops; his breath and his heart stilled with shock. 

Right on the back was a clumsy name tag written with a child's writing: Lee Beomseok.

He drops the bag, hands trembling and mind blank. Horrified, he shoves the schoolbag back into the box and he's about to throw the photo album back in there too but he pauses.

Beomseok shakes like a leaf. He pulls out the other photo albums. 

One of them is innocent, mostly featuring Siwoo in his teenage years and his mother. Beomseok almost sighs with relief. 

That relief is ruefully stolen from him when he looks into the other photo album and finds pictures of himself.

It's unmistakably him from his childhood, each taken from a voyeur perspective, the child in the photos has no realization that he's being watched. 

The photo album drops like he's burned and Beomseok's mind whites from panic. He scrambles to put everything back into place, eyes bulging and hands trembling.

He's in an absolute state of panic and his fight or flight response is triggered. He doesn't want to fight, Siwoo isn't even home so Beomseok flees.

He takes the car keys and fucking flees. 

Nothing makes sense. Did Siwoo take those photos? How could Siwoo have the old school bag that was stolen from him years ago? Was Siwoo nearby when Beomseok grew up? No, but, that still doesn't make sense because Siwoo might be his hyung but he's only a year older. How could a child— 

Beomseok phones Dayoung first because she's in the city but she's not picking up. He curses, damn her for being busy with her trashy fiance. But it's not really her he needs to talk to. It's Yejun. Yejun might know things.

So he dials Yejun's number and almost runs a red light, his trembling hands are damp on the steering wheel. "Pick up, pick up," he chants, desperate. Beomseok's mind is churning a thousand kilometers a minute and he thinks that even the fluffy brown dog looks kind of familiar.

Wasn't that the mutt that pissed on his leg that one time? No, surely that's his imagination going wild. Conspiracy theories begin to unfold. Was it Siwoo that made his stomach feel terrible that time in the park? Was it Siwoo who told Kyungmi about his sexuality? Was it Siwoo who—

No, these things can't be. His foot slams down on the gas and all the lights on the street blur together. 

There's no way.

There's no way and yet the box exists. It's not just a figment of Beomseok's imagination, right? The image of it pulled out of the closet is seared in Beomseok's mind. Seriously, nothing makes sense. 

The call finally goes through, "Hyung?" Yejun hums casually. Beomseok can hear giggling and laughter in the background, likely his fiancee and maybe someone else. "What's up?"

Beomseok's eyes flick to his phone screen. The car zooms right past the red light. "Yeju—" he doesn't finish, voice is drowned out by a sharp car horn and the vehicles collide. 

When Siwoo hears the news, he doesn't make it home that night. He smiles sweetly at his staff and tells them he needs a trip to the bathroom. But he goes all the way up to the building's top floor instead and jumps.

A whole mess is left in his wake but what does Siwoo care?

He's dead.

Again.

But what kind of consequence is death when you can just live again? No parting is sacred, no parting is eternal. Siwoo doesn't care, because he will hunt down his beloved again and again. As he should. Because he can.

What can even stop him? When he has control of Fate. 

Ouros: Hah! Let us see how long this idiocy can last. Go on, bird brain, and give us a good show.