city of stars

XXXI

It was scary, how dependent on Hyunjin Felix had been. How much he needed him. How every day started for the sole purpose of ending, connecting evening after evening that the two men spent together.

Felix wouldn't say his life had been colorful — after all, the world he had lived in was monotone — but with Hyunjin, it had somehow seemed a little more bearable, a little more good.

That pretense vanished now. Because the moment Felix realized that Hyunjin was gone, panic had set in. His heart raced and hurt, his hands couldn't stay still, and his traitor eyes welled with tears. Even his brain had gone into overdrive, thinking about their every interaction, searching for the pattern, the hints that have led them here.

To this.

Felix sighs now, looking over the clipboard he's been given – something about a virus spreading in the lower wards — and signs off on the document, handing it back to the nurse, who walks away with a bow.

">The world still went on, whether or not you moved with it. Felix still had a job, a life. There had been whispers going around — whispers that the "traitor" down in the cells was dangerous, that he had spies in the City, that everyone was under suspicion.

The overall City was tenser than usual, not that you'd necessarily notice it if you weren't used to the routine and the monotony of every passing day.

So, in order not to fall under the watchful eye of his superiors, and to keep himself from quite literally breaking apart, Felix did what most people had been doing for years.

He pretended nothing was going on and that everything was fine. He pretended the name Hwang Hyunjin was not familiar to him outside his client list. He pretended he never felt the warm embrace of the elder man on cold mornings, and never heard Jeongin's loud laughter or sly voice.

He pretended to forget. Because he was good at that.

Still, sometimes it was difficult. Like now.

A week after the arrest.

The woman in front of him was talking about her daughter — something about an allergic reaction, maybe? — but her hands were moving along with her words, flashing under the white lights. Her nails were coated with a thin, clear gloss.

Felix could imagine her sitting down and applying it, in some dingy bedroom on the other side of town, the tip of her tongue sticking out in concentration as she carefully painted each finger.

That image quickly turned to one of Hyunjin — of his old, ratty tshirt that fell to his thighs, and the thick sweatpants he wore not to get cold. Of the way Hyunjin's hands were steady when he showed Felix how to paint his nails, and how the light yellow color shone as it dried. The way Hyunjin's dark hair fell into his eyes, and Felix had gotten a little distracted staring at him, so when Hyunjin looked up, catching him, he smiled and rolled his eyes, waving the attention off.

The thoughts that flooded his mind were nostalgic, and they made him sad, made Felix miss him, want to see him.

The woman obliviously prattles on.

15 days after Hyunjin's capture, Felix wasn't faring any better. Someone had brought coffee into the office, and now all the younger could think about was how much Hyunjin drank of the stuff, how he always smelled of caffeine and something more. How whenever Felix got tired and leaned on him sleepily, the smell would engulf him whole and he would relax, his eyes drooping shut, because he knew the older man got him. He knew he was safe with him.

Sitting up, Felix shook the memories off, scowling. He didn't want to remember. Hyunjin wasn't safe anymore. Hyunjin was gone.

Three weeks after the arrest, Felix started going on walks.

Just outside, around the City, in his free time. He watched mothers with their children, and fathers with their friends. Watched two boys walking home from school, and two girls sharing a baked bun.

He walked without a purpose, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his pace matching a nonexistent person beside him. He thought he was doing better.

An elderly couple had their hands around each other as they walked towards the library, basking in each other's company. Her bag was in his free hand, and their slow strides matched each other perfectly after so many years together. There was a simple happiness around them, something so normal and fitting that it felt like they were the norm. That they completed each other — there was no exact place where one ended and the other began. They were simply them — together.

Following them with his eyes, Felix suddenly shivered, tightening the jacket around his shoulders. Shivering, he wondered why he had felt like he was missing something. Like he lost or forgot something very important, leaving it at home or at an unpopulated restaurant.

A month after the arrest, Felix nearly walked into Jisung in the halls, turning the other way when he saw the black figure crossing his path. Jisung doesn't protest, doesn't follow him. Almost as if he expected it.

It was the first time Felix's seen him since that day.

Two months after the arrest, Felix sneaks into Hyunjin's old apartment and sleeps on his bed, clutching the old pillow to his face, inhaling the barely-there scent of Hyunjin's shampoo and coffee.

The place is quiet, and deserted, and a complete mess after the raid. It feels eerie, waking up after his tantrum the night before. Feels odd, walking down the hall and seeing the broken mirror in the bathroom, the shriveled apples in the fridge, the dried toast on the table.

Numbly, the blond man curls up on the couch, and pulls one of Hyunjin's sweatshirts over his body, hood up. He doesn't know what he's doing there, doesn't know what the cold feeling spreading through his body is supposed to mean.

The tear tracks left down his face from the night before had dried up now, but it is of no matter, because new tears run in hot rivulets down his cheek, escaping without his permission.

His phone buzzes with a call from Chan, probably to ask why he didn't come home last night.

Felix ignores it, his fingers worrying the worn fabric of the sleeves, anxiety building up under his skin. He wants to do something, wants to act — but he can't, and that makes him feel utterly helpless.

Tugging another pillow to his chest, Felix inhales and closes his eyes, vowing that this is the last time he lets himself dream.

It isn't.

Sixty-four days after Hyunjin's arrest, Felix seeks out Minho.