[077]
@cheolliemoon
["i remember you."
three words, large enough to tip the world.
i remember you.]
the first snow, the first flower that bloomed, the first cloud that cleared, and the first leaf that fell. he remembered all of them and the feeling of loneliness every time that it will leave a mark on him. the traces are there in every page stuck to one another, but he was still there, 671 days ago when pragma called saying that a friend turned into an angel. he was still there, that night when mako tucked him in, promising that they are alright.
he scoffed, closing the fourth journal, halfway through with a clench in his heart. mako was a liar. he promised that they would be alright and then when he woke up, they were not. since that night that akiomi died, he woke up with lies. skipping a day to live on another, marked by the deaths welcoming him. he stayed there, and there was a part of him that didn't want to leave.
"ayaw mo na magbasa?" sol asked without looking. this is one of the funniest things that the two of them built. one doesn't have to look, but they know what those gazes mean. the taps on the table, the control of emotions. no breeze was needed, just a pure way of knowing each other. but snow just smiled and opened his laptop. "just remember me," his friend told him, "the name of the folder. just remember me," and so he looked for it.
there it is. the shivers of the first snow, the joy of the first blossoms, the sands left when the sun shone, and the first longing when the first leaf fell, "snow!" it was always the first line in every video. he was happy in those two years. and then the snow melted, the flowers dried, the sands were washed, and the fallen leaves grew again. he was happy but maybe not happy enough. because eyes never lie and there are tears trying to break free. watching every single facade, snow looked through the dates and there's the city of new york, busy. but it welcomed him. different restaurants, different people, "snow!" they called, and he replied with an incline of his head to the side with a little brightness on his face.
he was the snow along the cherry blossoms in april, he was the snow that the sun in july cannot melt, the snow that will not fall with the leaves of november, and the snow that will stay even after winter.
he remembers.
but smiles turned into a frown when he read three words, enough to retell the story of youth, "i remember you," and those are the days he tried to bury with lies piling up every morning. the traces must be gone, but this is the happiness he couldn't forget. the first rain of high school, the first road trip of graduation, the first day of college, the first birthday he had in this same restaurant. it was the happiness that did not last. the first cake that he baked, the first gala that he attended, the first time they went to that new ktv in town. he must bury them but he clicked it twice, thrice until it opened.
"snow!" maven called him while the latter was playing under the rain, uniform soaked in the cries of the skies, but smiles are plastered. and he told them to wait as he set up the camera with five teenage boys playing instead of studying. not close enough to say they are best friends, but close enough to hold each other's hand as they spin along the merry-go-round, and their hair syncs in splashing the water.
"snow!" aryang called as she held up a camera while snow and mako builds their sand castle, "sa likod niyo!" and just the moment they turned around, the waves of the sea ruined their castle, his long blonde hair was soaked and tasted salty, and their laughter syncs. it did not end there, because on their way home, the windows were rolled down and the six of them were standing along the wind that blew their hair. screams of happiness echoed with the roars of the cars passing by them.
"snow!" devon called him while he fixed his uniform, "goodluck!" and he complained, shaking off the nervousness of entering a university. maven laughed, patting his head while mako held his hand. so much of the first day that he was not looking forward to people that they will meet, but the smell of home when he got to tell what happened at the end of the day.
"kuya snow!" akiomi called his attention and he raised the cake that miles and maven baked. red coats and pink icings on his face. cone on his face and that lovely look mako steals every single time. the opening was chaotic and the other couples were trying to steal every moment that was supposed to be for him and the restaurant. "happy birthday angel," mako whispered and kissed his cheeks. october 1st, 2017, they said a purple restaurant was born, seven men having fun, and a maiden that was lost because of the chaos going on.
"snow!" he turned his head to akihiro and suddenly an icing was wiped on his face. days before the gala, and he is guessing that making a cake all together was not a good idea. the kitchen was a mess and screaming was all over the place. they are like children who experienced this for the first time. careless and free, not thinking about tomorrow or what other people would say. the past doesn't define these men, but the future that was waiting for them. bright smiles and ugly cakes, snow hoped that this would last forever.
"snow!" eve called him like a proud mom while his arms snaked around his friends, swaying while they screamed the lyrics of the song. it was, they thought, a perfect lunch. of joy and fun, in the middle of the discord that was finally done, and they are not like the other adults who would adjust their bond for their work. they have to be back in minutes, but this is fun. this is more fun than work.
a video after the other of the memories that was not written in any paper. he thought it was done, he thought it was over. but he clicked the untitled clip with black cover. he was scared to see what's in it or what was the first word that it would welcome.
and he was welcomed, "snow!" by mako who was preparing the camera while he was shy with all the blush on his face, "dali na!" and snow remembers this day. of yeses and the bunch of three words turned into four, "say it again on the camera, please! for me!" but he remained silent shaking his head no, hair fluffing from a side to another with giggly smile on his face," come on just say it for a memory, please!" but snow did not say it. instead he pulled mako down by his nape, colliding his lips with the latter. 14 and they are here, in love in the middle of november. he was sure it would fall on the other side of the world, but he was here.
"snow," sol called him softly, tapping his clenched fist, "are you okay?" and as if he just woke up, snow saw the different shade of the purple in the restaurant, the different photographs and staffs. he shut down his laptop and chuckled. after all the video and memories kept in journals and folders, this is reality. none of it stayed, none of it lasts, none of it slipped from his memory even once.
"i'll go to the restroom," and he left the food untouched, the journals unopened, and sol dumbfounded. he walked as fast as he could until he could lock himself up, sobbing quietly without anything on his hands to wipe them off. it was falling on his cheeks, continuous like the pain that never stops. he wants to forget, but forgetting means the end, and snow hates endings. that's why he hated autumn. that's why he hated winter. because they are the end.
he hates the moon, periods, or anything that will stop him from going on.
three knocks made him stop, take a breath and ask who it was, no one answered. but there was a purple handkerchief slipping on the door. another set of knocks then footsteps were heard. it wasn't sol, he never brought handkerchiefs with him, let alone a purple one. nonetheless he picked him up, ready to wipe his tears away to pretend that he was alright once he stepped out of the restroom, but a note with a familiar penmanship greeted him, "angels don't cry," and he knew who it was from.
mako clenched his fist once he locked himself in his office.
he remembered everything too. from the day that a blonde was introduced that first year of his high school life, to how he met the eyes of the same guy with navy hair. he remembered it, the first handshake and first talk. even that one moment when there was rain in snow's eyes. he hated that storm since then. he hated it until now, when snow rushed to the restroom with clouds getting heavy. he hates it when his angel cries.
his angel.
snow ran his fingers through his hair and mocked himself. he thought he was no angel, after leaving, after hurting him. every angel remembered, every angel stayed. angels are real, but this overwhelming memory is like a dream.
"see you later."
or is it a dream?
"i remember you."
he just wants to remember life more than dreaming about it.