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[Open Midday Tryst?]

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Yoo Jonghyuk knows that Kim Dokja, this time for sure, has flown out of his grasp. He lives in the sky, looking at them from time to time, but he is now such an omnipotent being with so many things to attend to that he can only catch glimpses of their timeline from time to time. He is omnipotent, but not consciously all seeing.

It’s an ending no one wanted.

All the things that Yoo Jonghyuk had wanted to tell Kim Dokja, he could never tell him. Even if he wanted to hold his hand or hear his laugh, it was impossible.

He just wished that he had looked back in the subway train one last time.

However, at the cost of losing Kim Dokja, life moves on. Seoul is rebuilt and infrastructures are reconstructed. The kids grow up and Yoo Jonghyuk ages as well even when his heart has not aged a day.

It was in a fit of desperation that Yoo Jonghyuk opened up Midday Tryst again, even when the Star System’s influences were long past its prime and stigmas were barely usable. He started using it to document their lives, as he had done once in the past during the Star Stream. He messages, slowly over time, tracking the progress they have made.

He started out small, remembering what happened recently, and adding as he went along.

「 Yoo Sangah works as a public figure now. 」

「 School systems have started now so the kids have started going to classes. 」

「 Lee Hyunsung worries constantly. 」

As an afterthought he typed another line.

「It’s strange how Seoul heals so fast」

 

「That annoying prophet is managing government affairs. 」

 

「 Han Sooyoung started teaching a lecture about writing. 」

「 Jung Heewon works with the police force right now. 」

「 As for me, 」

 

The messages that were already infrequent had longer gaps of time between them.

 

「 Han Sooyoung brought groceries over and yelled at me to make a meal for once. 」

「 I kicked her out; it’s my house. 」

 

「 Lee Jihye has graduated college. 」

「 The kids are in high school now. 」

 

 

 

「 The company is meeting up. 」

「 Your company. 」

 

「 I didn’t go. 」

 

 

 

「 Kim Dokja, why didn’t you come with us during the group regression? 」

 

「 I have so many things I want to ask you. 」

 

 

 

「 Han Sooyoung yelled at me to get it together and stop staying stuck in the past. 」

 

 

 

「 I moved out of the house I shared with Yoo Mia and cut contact with the rest of them. 」

「 They don’t understand. 」

 

 

「 Seoul seems to be healing. 」

「 I can’t stand to look at it. 」

「 I know my anger is unwarranted. 」

 

「 Kim Dokja what does you smile look like again? 」

「 What does your laugh sound like? 」

 

「 Kim Dokja, tell me. 」

「 What do I do now? 」

 

「 Kim Dokja. 」

There’s so many things that Yoo Jonghyuk never said that he slowly wrote into the message system.

「I… 」

「I lo- 」

Yoo Jonghyuk stared at the words for a moment. He looked in the mirror; his hair was a mess, his stubble grown out past a socially acceptable length. He looked like a relic of the past, a husk of a person, one half of a whole.

He deleted the rest of the message and threw his phone down on the deformed couch. He had had enough time to sort through his feelings at this point, but what did it matter? It was already too late. After all, each message he typed was always followed by the same automated message.

[These messages cannot be sent.]