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Junmyeon finds a hair tie under his bed. He is in the middle of packing -- clothes, shoes, piles of books strewn all over the floor – when he discovers it. The company has arranged for his group to move together in a dorm now that they’re about to debut hence the mess. You need to double your effort, the higher-ups keep reminding them as if they have not been bending over backward all this time since they started training. Especially you, Junmyeon. Not to his face, they said that but it already goes without saying since he is soon to be a leader. Of all his responsibilities, packing should be the least of his worries. What could be so difficult about it anyway? He just needs to shove his belongings in a suitcase and he’s done.
Joke’s on him; he has never been more wrong. It is a hard pill to swallow but organizing his stuff has never been his strongest suit. A missing pair of sneakers already has him turning his bedroom upside down. He has checked everywhere, every nook and cranny to no avail. But there, under his bed, he finds something else instead. It is a simple hair tie in the shade of violet dotted with little white flowers. Silly, that’s purple, not violet, she would probably say as she snatches the hair tie from him. She would then tie her hair into a ponytail, her usual hairstyle, wispy bangs framing her delicate face.
Wait.
Did he just think of her? Oh right, it cannot be helped; this is her hair tie after all. But he shouldn’t be thinking of her. There are clothes to pack, a shoe to find, and a practice scheduled later so he can’t afford to lose focus. Stop it, Junmyeon tells himself. He can’t miss her. He hasn’t earned the right to do so. But to stop missing someone is like stopping the flood when there’s a storm. And here he is, caught in the very eye of it.
Despite his self-protests, he wonders how she is doing right now. Does she still tie her hair in a ponytail? Or has she finally gathered the courage to cut it the way she always wanted to now that she’s in the university? Has she settled in her dorm? Of course, she did. Why wouldn’t she? It’s been a few weeks since the schools have opened; she probably has already made friends with her fellow education students or even students from other departments. She fits there perfectly: a bag slung over her shoulder, hair tucked behind her ear, laugh bouncing in the halls as someone cracks a joke. That someone used to be him.
Well, he never had a good sense of humor and his jokes always fell flat but eliciting a smile from her was already enough. Like that one time she asked him about what he wanted to be. They used to study together in this very room of his; she helped him with his language homework and him with her maths. He can picture it even now. Yes, that’s probably how she left this hair tie. I’d like to be a teacher, he remembers her saying, glasses slipping off the tip of her nose. What about you? What’s your dream?
You. You’re my dream.
There was silence. Then they both erupted into fits of laughter that almost brought tears into their eyes. She probably took it as a joke then but he meant it. Their parents even approved of them. They were the perfect couple, model students, and the school envy according to their friends. Junmyeon and Joohyun. She would become a teacher in a primary school, surrounded by wide-eyed kids rapt with attention. He would probably be working in an office, a white-collar job like a financial analyst, or an accountant in a bank. They would come home to each other at the end of the day in a little house with gardenia hedges in a quiet suburb. A kid or two of their own would probably be nice too. On weekends, they would go on dates to obscure cafes or just laze in each other’s company. On holidays, they would book trips to countries they only saw in movies. They would share a bottle of wine as the sun sets on the horizon.
Everybody thought they would end up together. He thought so too.
But life doesn’t always go according to anyone’s expectations. It’s no one's fault, she told him over untouched coffee a couple of months ago. She had a way of coloring him transparent. She had arranged his thoughts and laid them before him as he struggled to put them into words. They were over. It was his fault but she was just too kind to blame him for it. He knew it was bound to happen the moment he signed himself away into a contract. When he could not even hold her hand in public anymore. When it would take him days to reply to her messages. When he had almost forgotten her birthday. He became someone they both can barely recognize.
But she was not mad at him. She understood. And it was the worst part.
I’ll pray for your dreams to come true. Go follow them.
He didn’t though. He only watched as his dream wished him well, stood up from her seat then turned around. Dream went on her way one bright orange afternoon like air slipping between his fingers and never looked back. Their paths had diverged even before that but it was that moment he could not see anymore where it would wind back together. Maybe one day. Maybe never.
Or perhaps he should have taken her words right away. It plays in his head, of what could have happened, during those wee hours in the morning when he’s too tired to fall asleep. There would be him searching for her in the crowd. He would think he had already lost her forever but then he would spot her purple hair tie. He would run to her, take her in his arms before she could take another step out of his life. He would whisper promises of making things work out and of never letting go as she laughs at him for being so dramatic.
He could do it. He could still ask her, beg for her to take him back, and promise to do better. The thought tugs at him whenever his thumb hovers over her name on his phone. A sane person would have deleted her number already but he could not bring himself to do it. Instead of ripping off the bandaid, he had composed countless messages though not one word makes it past the send button. It is futile. Because say he would be able to change her mind and keep her holding on over the distance; would that make her happy? There was distance between them back when she was still beside him. They were wedged apart by his ambition and inability to take care of those dear to him. She would be unhappy and he cannot bear to cause her unhappiness anymore.
So instead, he prays. Just like how she will pray for his dreams, he will pray for her happiness. He will pray she finds someone who will love her better than he did. If he cannot have that future with her then he will dream for her happiness even if that happiness is a future without him in it.
He keeps the hair tie with the rest of the things he packs with him. He still has not found the missing pair of sneakers and he will most likely get reprimanded for being late to practice but no matter. A piece of her has found him. One day, when the hands of fate decide to cross their paths again, he will return it to her. She will tie her hair up in a ponytail, the ends brushing her nape. Violet looks good on you, he would say. Purple, she would correct him. They would stand in front of each other drinking each other’s smiles. Someday, they might find their way back to each other but until then he could only hold on to this little memory of what they had.