KENOPSIA: THE EERIE, FORLORN ATMOSPHERE OF A PLACE THAT'S USUALLY BUSTLING WITH PEOPLE BUT IS NOW ABANDONED AND QUIET

On a Sunday Wonho took me to where he lived, an old and rundown neighborhood in downtown Seoul. It ought to have been scrapped by the developer companies already and turned upside down for new projects, but somehow this neighborhood seemed to evade the intrusion.

The buildings mostly were old, along with the shops and supermarkets by the narrow streets that ran like zigzags in a maze. Everyone seemed to know everyone. Wonho passed at least seven people- kids, elderlies, people around our age who said hi to him before we got to the building where he lived.

It was a four-storied, grey apartment building, almost exactly the same as the other ones. He lived on the third floor. We climbed the staircase as there was no elevator. In no time, I was well inside his lone place.

He gave me flustered smile, his eyes darting towards his room to see if anything was out of place. "This is it," he said sheepishly.

The very first thing that attracted me was the huge window facing north in his room. Only woods and a mountain beyond it. Green vegetation, a cellphone tower far ahead, and the huge sky.

Almost on cue, he went and opened it up. A gust of wind blew in fluttering the curtains. The sky outside was overcast with a layer of white clouds. There was not one inch the white hadn't covered, it very much looked like an outstretched, infinite blanket.

The weather was hot and humid, yet the wind blowing in made the room colder, and life came to it. His apartment was neat. There was one bedroom, a well spacious living room, and a kitchen with a small dining space. The furniture was minimalistic, the bedsheets pristine white along with his curtains.

He trailed behind me as I made myself home and carefully observed the details, taking in everything, the essence, the scent, him, this was where he lived. To me, it felt very much like a home, a place where you didn't just live but felt like you belonged.

"Where do we start?" I circled around and meet his eyes. He was wearing shorts again, with an oversized blue tee and a pair of white socks. "Let's start with dying your hair tips blue," I said, and a broad grin showed up on his face.

After he put on the water on the stove to boil for coffee, we headed for the bathroom. By then, I was getting well accustomed to his blond hair. I thought it suited him, his pale complexion, sunny exterior, his spring-like disposition.

For fun, we bought temporary blue hair dye we found in a 7/11 store where we went to buy snacks and ready-made sandwiches. It was to be used only for the tips and would last for a week tops.

While I helped him wash his hair by using the hand shower as he slightly bent over the washbasin, I realized how once I really wanted to touch his head. I often had the thought later too. His hair was soft, smooth, and when I ran my hand down his hair the strands swirled beneath my fingers like silk. Clouds in form of hair.

"When someone touches my hair I feel really sleepy," he hummed in a low voice. The walls in his apartment were thin. Somewhere someone was watching tv loudly, and someone was washing dishes with clatters and bangs, those noises blended in the ambient background.

"Do not fall asleep on me now," I said, taking in a bit of shampoo in my hands and rubbing it thoroughly. He giggled in reply.

Suddenly I stopped and turned a little around to face the door. "Wait, you didn't lock your front door, di you?" I remembered as I told him.

"It's alright. My mom lives next door. I need to check on her when she comes back. She almost always makes no sound."

It was like he could read my mind when he spoke his next words. "Yeah, we could've lived in the same apartment but I guess, both of us need room. She likes to have everything in her own pace. Things were different before but not now."

I raked my mind to remember if I had noticed the next door. It was definitely identical to Wonho's and there was nothing to pick it out of ordinariness. I only remembered a few soju bottles on the floor.

"How about the other day when you suddenly left my place in the dawn?" I spoke as casually as possible, washing away the foams from his hair. That question had been bugging my mind.

"I needed to take care of my mom. She turned up suddenly and couldn't find her own keys."

"I guess, that happens to all of us," I responded. It was possible that he genuinely didn't hear me asking the question to him some days back. The answer was nothing to hide from me.

He wore the plastic gloves on his own hands to use the dye himself. "I'm sorry but if you caress my hair any longer I really will fall asleep right here," he said with a chuckle.

A faint blush appeared on my face, I could see myself in the mirror. Now that his hair was wet it stuck to his head, and he slicked it back revealing his full forehead. A heavy towel draped on his shoulders, it was a sight I had never seen before. For a strange reason, I felt like I belonged here too, in this apartment, with him.

"I'll go make the coffee then. And prepare the snacks." A bit flustered over my thoughts, I almost ran towards the kitchen.

I put on some calming music loud on my phone. The water was already boiling hot on the stove. I searched his cabinet drawers for coffee, cream, and sugar, and everything was in perfect order. Neat and clean. No dishes on the sink either.

The coffee was grounded, and the aroma was fresh. There wasn't much for me to do. I took the bags of chips, rice cakes, and sandwiches we had brought from the store and organized them into plates and bawls. Only then, did I notice a cat leisurely sitting on the dinner tabletop, surveying me with its droopy eyes as if it had known me for ages.

"Hey there," I greeted. The cat let out a soft grunt in reply. The tip of its tail pointed and slightly waving in the air. The cat was a male and quite old in age, it was striped in white grey, and black.

It was Yerum, I've seen his picture a lot of times from Wonho. Yerum seemingly was adjusted to strangers, or at least to me, as he showed no reaction when I approached the dining table with the food.

"You want something?" I said as I set the bawls on the table. Yerum didn't look at all interested, he casually threw in a glance then looked at me lazily.

Extremely carefully, I placed a hand on his back. He looked very inviting to pet. I moved my palm gently across his soft fur, and he closed his eyes in delight. Like a thank you of some sort, he let out a heavy meow.

By the time, I was bringing out the coffee, Wonho had come back scuffing the towel on his head. "That was easy. Oh, I see you've met Yerum."

"We became friends," I chimed in. Yerum let out another curt meow following my sentence.

With a peal of encouraging laughter, Wonho went to find the hairdryer in his bedroom. "I saw that you are writing a song!" I shouted mildly from the dining space.

Immediately, he showed up again with a disgruntled and shocked face, towel still draped on his head. "Please tell me you did not read it."

"Oh, come on. I don't peek. I only saw the sheets on your couch." And I really hadn't inspected it any further.

Colour came back to his pale face. "It's a song I'm writing for you. You can not see that before I'm done." With a charming smile, again he left to his bedroom.

It was my time to be surprised then. "For me?" I stammered on my tongue.

"Yeah, I am composing and writing it. I'm no Beethoven but I'm trying," he answered from the next room. The buzzing sound of his hairdryer went off.

"You don't know how much that means to me," I said quietly, and I didn't know if he heard me or not.

A moment later, he spoke again against the sound of the machine. "Did you know Beethoven was deaf?"

"I didn't," I said, bemused. I had close to no idea about classic musicians.

"He wasn't always. But later in his life, he started going deaf. At the end of his life, he could hear nothing. He composed most of his extraordinary pieces after he became deaf," he said it all from the next room. The whirring sound of the hairdryer paused in the middle, only for a little.

"He really was no joke then. I have massive respect for him now," I responded from the living room. I circled around the place, light on my footstep, and eventually stopped before a small-sized family photo framed and hanging on the wall. That was the only photo displayed outside in the entire apartment.

I recognized him right away, a younger version of him, possibly 15 or 16. Still handsome, and amazing features, but with a thin and narrow build. He was wearing a black hoodie with jeans, beside him another young boy, approximately 12 or younger, with a bit of longer hair and a shorter build than Wonho. Beside them were a couple, smiling slightly at the camera. They were by some mountain road with a view of the clouds and a faraway sea, an old black Corolla car by their other side.

None of them were smiling too hard, but the ones you give while taking a family picture before the camera. Yet there was a pleasant feeling, anyone could tell they were a nice and easygoing family.

"We still have the car but don't use it anymore," Wonho said from my back.

I turned to face him, and in a moment, my heart almost leaped out of my mouth. He looked vastly different with the tips of his pale blond hair turquoise, the color didn't come out blue as the packaging had suggested. He looked like a mythical creature you could only find in fantasy books.

"I look, weird?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

I shook my head at him. "Majestic," I said, smiling, "really looking like a prince now. Maybe not from the Arabian nights but some other magical fantasy."

A pink hue spread across his cheeks. I faced away and turned to the picture again. "You look very much like a model here too."

"I wish I was joking when I tell you this but I was a kids model," he retorted. Shellshocked and mouth agape, I turned to him again.

He scratched on his head shyly, eyes fixed on the photo on the wall beyond me. "You know those ads for kids and teen outfits. I was an ulzzhang when I was a teen. You can't find much on me from those days on the internet if you try... I loathed those so I made them take em down."

I couldn't help but frown at him. "Why?"

"Not proud of the past, I guess. It was nothing sublime. I was just a kid who wanted money and fame to hang out with other kids like me. And get girls. I was starkly different back then."

He let out a small laugh before continuing, "plus my younger brother was far better. He was capable of something greater. He was amazing at mathematics and always won competitions in school, later on, national levels too. All throughout middle school and high school. He brought in a good amount of money from winning those. And when our father left us only with the car and some alimony for the divorce, my brother's winning money helped a lot. I was just a kid screwing up everything. If Hyejun was alive, he would've become something great someday."

That was the first time he had told much so much of his personal life revolved around his family on his own according. There was no change of expression on his face, he was blankly gazing at the photo, lost in it.

I felt a tug in my heart watching his vacant expression. The next thing I knew, I had gone up and hugged him tightly.

My head rested on his broad chest, and I could hear his heartbeat going out of pace for my abruptness. "You did great too," I told him. "I'm sure Hyejun is proud of you, just like you are of him."

His heartbeat was loud just like mine. He cleared his throat a little and slowly wrapped his arms around me. "I... I guess, my income from the modeling jobs helped a little that time too. They were meager but contributed."

"Yeah," I nodded, planting my face fully on his chest, taking in his scent, his warmth, his presence. "You're still here, and we are so proud of you." My voice came out smothered because of the tight embrace.

"Thanks, Sunny." His chest vibrated with those simple words.

We hugged each other for some time. And then we ate, listened to music, watched your name on his bed with the wind blowing inside from the north, and Yerum curled into a ball by our side. If I knew this happiness was going to be out of reach soon, maybe I should have tried harder to spend every second with him.

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A/n: why do you think wonho killed himself in the other worlds?

Out of topic but what is your favourite hair color on Wonho? I think blond really suits him. And that frilly brown hair with an undercut he once had