PARO: THE FEELING THAT NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO IS ALWAYS SOMEHOW WRONG

August brought heaps of even more rain and blasts of sunny days when the heat became so unbearable that I thought my face would dissolve along with the evaporating earth water. My electrical fan no longer satiated my constant need to cool down and I had to finally install an AC. The news said it was going to be a hot and long-lasting summer this year. Despite the horrible consequences of the weather, I sure hoped it did.

Things with Wonho were escalating at a steady pace. We still did not have a name for us, but between the late night phone calls, suddenly inspired talks, and conversations, random outings, sometimes chatting feverishly and sometimes silently musings at cafes, or at our ancient library, the campus, or before his kendo club, or taking evening walks together, I realized it was enough.

As I was locking the door to my apartment, crooning the gashina song that had been blowing up in the radios and overseas, I heard a thudding sound and flinched, almost dropping the keys.

"I told you not to creep up to me like a ghost, Hyungwon," I said before turning to face him, which eventually I did. "Remember that I once almost attacked you with my spray?"

His nonchalant and unobtrusive face, yet the very looming figure shadowed over me. "I just came to make sure you were going to meet Wonho today."

"You've asked about today twice already." I jammed the key inside my small purse and gave him a hard look in the eyes. The boy, of course, did not bat an eye.

"Where are you going to meet him?"

"To a western-styled restaurant he wanted to take me out," I almost groaned with the answer, frustrated. As time passed Hyungwon only got wearier of the situation and investigated me in a precise manner almost every day.

Not that I did not enjoy the invasive Q&A session with him, I liked talking to him in general — there was always something serene about Hyungwon, albeit I just did not have any newfound information to give him other than what kind of stunt Wonho's cat pulled the other day.

There was always a growing uncertainty hanging about the air, but, when with Wonho I could not think of much else. Everything else but us faded into the background like when the camera zooms and pans around to the main actors and everything else remains unnoticeable to the eyes of the watchers.

I still did not know why Wonho killed himself in the other worlds. Would he really do that here?

"Is today important of any sorts?" I asked just when Hyungwon was about to descend the staircase to his apartment. The question was just there, being asked without a real motive or meaning behind it but it seemed to shock him a little.

"I don't know." He then disappeared downstairs.

Whatever, I thought. He was moody and always had been moody. The sun in contrast was as bright as an innocent child's smile.

It was not the kind of heat that would pierce through your skin. As a matter of fact, the sunrays felt as soothing as taking warm ginger tea when you're feeling a little tired. With each sip the tiredness leaves you further away.

There was no sign of a rainshower at all. But the weather forecast predicted one around evening and just to be on the safe side, I had brought my umbrella along.

Feeling the warm sun on my face, I skidded along the sidewalks, my transparent stick of an umbrella often bumping with my naked legs. I was wearing a jeans skirt (as I'd noticed Wonho would always blush and look anywhere but my bare knees if I wore a short dress or a skirt, and to be honest, I found that adorable), paired with a white short-sleeved blouse, and white flats.

The spring boy had sent me the location the previous night. Following the route, I was there in twenty minutes, with ten minutes to spare on our rendezvous.

It was a little past lunch hour so the crowd inside wasn't unbearable, but still an amount of students and office workers and couples and alike bristled over the place in a boisterous manner. The food was relatively cheap here, a minimalistic decor but there was a natural feeling to it with the many potted plants around every corner, table, and even the ceilings that made the place photogenic. The place was already rising to popularity.

I sat on a table for two in a far corner, just near a human-sized plant, illuminated by brown lighting fitted under the pot that held it.

He was never late. Though I found myself waiting not ten minutes but for the next thirty minutes.

In the meantime, people came in, ordered food, ate, talked, clicked selfies, and walked away, and new people came, while I sat there in the corner with the plant. I was never much of a crowd watcher so I focused on the interior instead, checked my phone, checked if my umbrella was still propped against the wall beside me, studied the menu.

In another fifteen minutes, I felt like I was attracting the attention of the restaurant authorities for just sitting there, doing nothing, even though I was sure no one noticed me because no one looked my way or approached me, still I ordered a mojito and called Wonho's number anxiously.

The number was out of reach and straight redirected me to voicemail.  Alright, don't panic. Calm down, drink. I did and ordered an iced americano ten minutes after I had finished the former drink slowly and deliberately.

I called him a couple more times. No answer. Did he forget we were supposed to meet today? Did his phone break somehow, or perhaps he had lost it?

Did anything happen to him?

I immediately crossed that terrible thought out and killed it right there. It was only August 25th. I was getting way ahead of myself. Nothing happened before November 1 anywhere. Was that supposed to calm me down?

The next hour of waiting was terrible, filled with agony and desperation. I felt acid rising in my stomach but could not eat anything. My short hair was probably a terrible mess for how much I had mussed it up by then. I no longer cared for my appearance, that I looked like shit already with my pained face as if I was ready to cry, and my crinkled-up skirt for the amount of time I had brushed my clammy hands on it.

Another drink laid completely untouched before me. I did not even know what it was, I just ordered it to stall more time. I just wanted him to show up any second and give any excuse, no matter how absurd it would be I'd take it with ease.

Every passing minute felt horrible. I tried to keep the negative thoughts away but when the sky outside started to darken, and not because of the passing daylight but because a rain shower was coming just like the forecast, I could no longer control my thought demons.

I paid the bill and walked out of the restaurant. I felt like everyone on the street was watching me, there was probably something about my face or the posture that shouted inevitable accident. Though I couldn't care much on that either that moment.

I called up Minhyuk to ask him if he knew where Wonho was, and to no avail Minhyuk was oblivious. I ran up Jooheon too, I then called Changkyun. No one knew. But Jooheon told me not to worry much because he was probably there somewhere.  Sometimes he does that. He gets lost in the track.

Calling Wonho showed no outcome so I texted him multiple times asking if he was okay and where he was, knowing I wouldn't get an answer. The clouds gathered and a pitter-patter rain started to fall, I barely had it in me to open up my umbrella but I did anyway.

Yet somehow I got soaked from head to toe when I arrived before the library. I didn't choose home, that solitary apartment on the rooftop looked less inviting. Plus Wonho could somehow show up here instead of other places as he very often came by on my shifts around evening.

I was expecting to see Hyungwon occupying the lone place as he took over in the days I bailed out, but to my surprise, the library was closed. The shutter down, locked, the closed sign hanging helplessly behind the glassed door.

I pondered over it for a second, thought if I'd call Hyungwon and realized he never had a cellphone on him. I still stood there, albeit, further away from the front door but under the shade.

The sunny morning had devolved into a cold after hours. People with flashy or ordinary umbrellas, hats, raincoats, boots, and those not prepared for the rain at all rushed to their feet to their destinations. Soon even they were gone. Only darkness awaited, and damp cold. The rain didn't stop.

Out of the blue, I saw a blonde male approaching the library with his dark umbrella, and I was about to shout out to him but then I saw it was not Wonho but someone with a way thinner and taller build, curly blonde hair.

The male surveyed the closed sign with contempt and soon he was gone too. I was left utterly alone.

I picked up my phone and decided to give it another go, call Wonho at least one more time, although I was so sick of the mechanical voice telling me the number was out of reach that I felt like shoving my hand inside the screen and choke the speaker. I dialed the number with my heart in my hands.

It rang.

For the first time since I'd called him today the call went through. Impatiently I waited. It rang three more times before someone picked it up, obviously him but there was no voice at the other end of the call. Dead silence followed.

Such a gaping silence that everything else went quiet around me for a second. I no longer heard the clamoring rain. But then there was a beating sound, my own heart.

"Hello. Are you okay?" The cold skin on my cheeks felt warm with a tearstream trailing down. I focused on the little humming sound from the other side instead.

"Yeah, I'm fine." His voice was just as regular as every other day. It really was him.

I spoke next doubtfully, "yeah? You sure?"

"Hmm," he made a sound from the back of his throat like he often did in between his mulling overs or intent listenings to me. "Why did you call?"

Why did I call? I couldn't really articulate any word for a brief moment.

"You didn't show up today," I finally said.

The line felt like it went dead, or I thought so. I actually had to check if the call was still ongoing. My clothes were dripping wet and stuck to my body. Only then I took note of my opened umbrella, just lying on the sodding gravel. It wasn't blown away already only because the wind wasn't harsher.

"I can't do this."

The voice sounded distant, and at the same time so proximate as if he was right there beside me.

"Can't do what?" My teeth were clattering. I didn't know if it was because of the cold or something else.

"With you," he whispered close to my ear. "I can't do this anymore with you," he spoke more firmly this time.

"Why?"

Again, the silence ensued. The tremblings of my teeth and the pounding of my heartbeat were the only sounds, with an occasional murmur of the trees and the placards of the surrounding stores, and a hissing sound of the pouring rain.

"Why do you always have to run away whenever things start to get better between us?" I croaked out, thinking I'd stop but the words fell out of my mouth. "You don't ever want to tell me anything. There's just so much left in the dark! Whenever I think I can understand you, you do something completely unpredictable! I just... Have you ever thought how much it wears me down too?"

I had burst out when I said the next words. "I just don't want you to die! I care for you so much."

After a second, the call cut off abruptly.

The silence was never meant to go away, was it? The summer sure was. No matter how much I hoped things would change, it didn't, and wouldn't.

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A/n: 25th August is my birthday and this chapter takes place on that day.

I love pain