Work Text:
What they don’t tell you about working with your ex is how awkward it can get. Certainly, Ricky had braced himself to have to undergo less-than-comfortable situations, but he’d trade with anything in the world in exchange for his current predicament. Spicy food. Ugly Christmas sweaters. His high school boyfriend. Anything.
Across the desk, Gyuvin remains hunched over the unassuming letter Ricky handed him five minutes ago. Printed on it were barely three lines: a polite address out of courtesy, then his expression of wanting to resign by the end of the month, and another polite address thanking Gyuvin for his kind consideration.
Shuffling in his seat, Ricky diverts his attention instead to the digital clock hanging on the far right wall, watching as the seconds go by in neon red. 54, 53, 52-
Gyuvin clears his throat. “I’m afraid I have to say no, Ricky.”
Ricky’s eyes snap back to Gyuvin, perplexity building within him. “Pardon?”
“Well,” he starts, offering a courteous smile. “You hold a very important role within our company. Letting go of valuable talent like you is something we simply cannot afford to do. And even if I wished to comply with your request, HR would take issue with my decision.”
It’s ironic that he mentions HR, Ricky muses, given how their past history was the biggest violation of company code. Even so, he’s not one to let things go easily as is. “I can assure you that there’s no dearth of skilled talent out there,” he tries, tone placating and polite. “Surely, you will be able to find a competent hire in due time.” Inwardly, he’s thinking this is a stupid argument to be even had in the first place. It’s also an extreme understatement, given how sought-after a job at Bloom is; Ricky himself had fought tooth and nail to get his position.
Gyuvin only slides his resignation letter back to him, smile still etched on his face. “My answer still remains a firm no.” There’s a dangerous finality in his tone, with the way he enunciates his words with a weighty gravity; don’t prod me any further, my answer will never change , is what the subtext says. Ricky quivers in anger, some part of him wishing to reach over and violently shake his shoulders and scream, let me leave, you fucking bastard . But he shoves this intrusive thought aside, and merely returns Gyuvin’s smile before grabbing the letter off the table and making to leave his office.
Right as he reaches for the door handle, Gyuvin calls out. “If you do need a break, however, you’re always free to go on leave for a while. The year’s coming to an end and it’s best to use up all your vacation time lest it goes to waste.” He pauses. “And should you want to extend your leave duration, I’m willing to cover them for you so you’ll still be paid.”
There are a thousand thoughts coursing through Ricky right now, none of them all too pleasant. Nevertheless, he turns back to look at Gyuvin, forcing an ever bigger smile on his face. “I’ll certainly consider that, thank you.” Then, he’s out the door, speeding down the corridor as fast as he can go. When he reaches the elevator, he jabs the button, tapping his shoes against the carpeted floor as he watches the floors tick by. Mentally, he’s calibrating all his possible options now that Gyuvin so lovingly shot down his first, and intended sole, attempt at resigning. On one hand, he could go straight to HR. On the other, with how Gyuvin has HR in the clutches of his palm, he’s not sure how well that will go.
15, 16, 17. The elevator dings as it arrives at Ricky’s floor. He steps into it and spams the button, willing the doors to close as soon as they can. The moment he’s fully enclosed in silence and solitude, he hangs his head down and shuts his eyes, evening out his breath as he tries to go over his options again. HR is completely out of the question, Jiwoong may not be able to do much, Hao will relay it to Gyuvin who will block me again, Taerae is on leave right now, which leaves…Hanbin…Hanbin it is.
The elevator dings, signalling its impending arrival at its destination. When Ricky opens his eyes, he finds his resignation letter all crushed up in his hand.
Props to Gyuvin, he thinks, for dismantling his hopes all over.
-
Their workplace romance started quite ordinarily. Months of working together in spearheading Bloom’s latest project had entailed the pair going into overtime on most days, even going back to the office on weekends. In between the laughs and vexations they shared, the times they were still up at one in the morning poring over Excel sheets while on Zoom calls, and the cups of coffee Gyuvin had brewed for Ricky with the company’s run-down machine to keep the both of them up and running despite the latter’s distaste for the bitter liquid, love had found its way in, culminating in Gyuvin’s asking him out on a dinner date the day their project finally wrapped up. Ricky, being just as taken in as he was, said yes.
For their first date, Gyuvin took him to some obnoxiously up-scale restaurant where their dinner came in seven courses and most of what they ate was unpronounceable. Nevertheless, Ricky loved it, and so did Gyuvin. It wasn’t so much the place as it was Gyuvin, who had filled the entire evening with his witty jokes and remarks, and endless yet comical tirades about the nosy, insufferable senior management he had to constantly deal with.
In the aftermath, Gyuvin wormed his way into Ricky’s life. Slowly but surely, Ricky’s apartment grew to become filled with Gyuvin’s paraphernalia; his toothbrush next to Ricky’s, his collection of Off-White sweaters in Ricky’s closet, his gaming set-up in Ricky’s living room. When he woke, the first sight his dazed eyes registered was the mess of brown hair splayed across the pillows, body entirely hidden by the swaddle of blankets.
At work, they tried to keep their relationship under wraps. Don’t shit where you eat is what they say, after all. They would check in at different times, spend their lunchtime with other colleagues, and address each other as they did before. After work, Ricky would get into Gyuvin’s car before they drove off to Ricky’s favourite Gong Cha to get him three cups of bubble tea, all at 100% sugar level. All was well, until Sung Hanbin from Management walked in on them boldly making out in an empty meeting room after most of their department had left early for a conference.
Ricky had instantly shoved Gyuvin away, nearly sending him careening into the table with the force of his anxiety. Gyuvin, however, had remained uncharacteristically calm, even aloof, despite Hanbin’s gaping at them. Such was how Ricky learnt that Gyuvin’s family was a major shareholder of Bloom and that their CEO also happened to be Gyuvin’s uncle because Hanbin, utterly flabbergasted, had warned them that he would have to raise their relationship with HR, to which Gyuvin said he could try, but that he would inevitably fail.
Ricky knew Gyuvin came from money. That he was from a conglomerate family, was not what he expected at all. In retrospect, it explained a lot: Gyuvin’s position despite his age, how casually he presented Ricky with expensive gifts, and his extensive travels to places all over the world that he often recounted to Ricky at night before they drifted off to sleep.
But with this discovery came a whole spade of problems, both new and old ones that he had previously easily dismissed. There was how Gyuvin deftly evaded Ricky each time he asked if they could instead go over to his place, either switching to another topic so expertly Ricky barely realised what he was doing until much later, or brushing it off with a litany of excuses ranging from his neighbours having extensive renovation works throughout the day to his parents being over. But most jarring, was that Gyuvin had hidden that truth from him. In the grand scheme of things, it was anything but significant, merely another sliver of his lover’s background that would invariably play a part in better acquainting their souls with each other, yet the constant wilful omission of it cut Ricky quite deeply.
Did you not trust me enough , he questioned Gyuvin soon after Hanbin left.
It’s not that at all, Quanrui. It’s just…my family is-
Strict? Homophobic?
…
Is it because of that?
…not really. They’re… Gyuvin winced… traditional.
So they’re strict and homophobic, is what I’m getting.
No. They’re not…homophobic. But my family is the archetypal conservative kind…as in they would rather me be with someone Korean, and ‘ensure the lineage continues’...as they call it.
Ricky remained silent, before he snorted. Doesn’t really change a thing, does it? What I’m getting is that they wouldn’t like me regardless.
And for the first time, Gyuvin looked irrevocably broken. He made to reach for Ricky, but Ricky pulled away. Hurt flashed in his eyes, but Ricky couldn’t bring himself to care about that. I’m leaving, is all he said, and turned tail and walked out.
Of course, they had reconciled soon afterwards; Gyuvin had texted him several times and Ricky had only told him please, give me some time , before the storm eventually passed and Ricky gathered that perhaps, he had overreacted and let his emotions get the best of him. He called Gyuvin, who came rushing over to his apartment at breakneck speed. At Ricky’s doorstep, they clung to each other so tightly they became brittle.
Even then, despite all their apologising, neither truly broached the topic, opting to bury it within themselves instead. They settled back into their usual routine, living, laughing and loving as they used to.
Such was, as the poets say, the beginning of their end.
-
The first thing Hanbin lets out upon seeing him is an exclamatory, “Ricky!” and his surprise is understandable, since the Management Department is not a section he ever frequented, nor had reason to. Until today, at least. Nevertheless, Hanbin is quick to cover up his initial surprise, settling into a gentler note as he asks, “What brings you here?”
Ricky slips into the seat at Hanbin’s desk, sliding the crumpled letter over to him. “It’s about this,” he says, gesturing at Hanbin to take a look. The older is viscerally confused, but he nonetheless acquiesces, smoothening out the creases in the paper before he reads it.
“And you’re here for this because…?” Hanbin asks once he’s done. His eyebrows are slightly raised as if to say he’s still not quite sure why Ricky approached him.
Ricky states, flatly, “Because I tried approaching Gyuvin, and he said no.”
“And you came to me because…”
“Because.”
The unspoken words must be clear, because Hanbin lets out an understanding hum. “Well”, he tries, “I’ll see what I can do…But if Gyuvin’s so insistent, then I’m afraid I won’t be able to do much.” Ricky chuckles at this; God knows how well-aware they are of that.
“I know. But it means a great deal to me, really. You’re my last and only hope. Truly.” At this, for the nth time in the day, he mentally curses Kim Gyuvin.
Hanbin shakes his head, but there’s a faint smile blossoming across his face. “Well then, guess I’ll have to really try my best, no?”
Ricky nods, bowing deeply as he stands up from the chair, hoping he manages to convey the depths of his gratitude to the man. “Thank you, Hanbin.” Because as futile as this may all be, there’s no one in the world he trusts more than Hanbin right now.
-
Over the weekend, Ricky receives a singular email via his work account.
From: Sung Hanbin <[email protected]>
To: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
Subject: Regarding our meeting
Date: 13 December 2023, 09:08
Dear Ricky,
I’ve liaised with upper management over your resignation. They have approved it, and you will be able to leave by the end of two weeks. You need not worry about any possible interference; I made sure to prevent them.
Warmest regards,
Hanbin
-
From: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
To: Sung Hanbin <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: Regarding our meeting
Date: 13 December 2023, 09:11
Dear Hanbin,
Thank you for your help. May I also know if it is possible to apply for annual leave during these two weeks? I have yet to use it for the entire year.
Much thanks,
Ricky
-
From: Sung Hanbin <[email protected]>
To: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: Re: Regarding our meeting
Date: 13 December 2023, 09:16
Dear Ricky,
No worries. Your annual leave has also been approved.
Warmest regards,
Hanbin
-
Two years passed before it eventually boiled over. It began with this: Ricky, on the sofa watching a rom-com on his iPad, Gyuvin, hastily shucking his shoes off and throwing his coat onto the hanger before joining Ricky on the sofa.
Bemused, Ricky paused his show and set his iPad aside to turn his attention to his lover, splayed out like a starfish. Tired?
Mhm. Very.
Well, you’re home now. You can rest. Want me to make you anything?
Gyuvin didn’t respond, gaze stuck on the ceiling.
Hey. Ricky nudged his cheek. I can make some ramen for you. Would you like that?
…I don’t know.
It’s ramen, you’ll be fine. Right as he stood up, Gyuvin’s hand shot up to pull him back down, and Ricky let out a loud oomph as he hurtled back into the sofa. Babe, what was that for?
Quanrui. Gyuvin’s gaze shifted to meet Ricky’s curious gaze, his lips slightly trembling.
Yes?
Gyuvin lifted himself off the sofa and into a sitting position, reaching for Ricky’s hands and clasping them within his own. I- His eyelids fluttered shut.
What is it? Something was clearly off, and it was starting to get to Ricky.
I had dinner with my parents today.
Perplexed, Ricky went, Yes. I know.
I had dinner with my parents today…and- Gyuvin’s eyelids fluttered back open, a melancholic sheen glazed over his eyes. They talked to me about… He inhaled, taking in a deep breath… marriage.
Ricky was slowly beginning to understand where their conversation was headed for. Nevertheless, he pushed onward. Softly, what about that?
Gyuvin abruptly crowded into Ricky’s space; his knees were now creeping over Ricky’s lap, his warmth seeping into his skin. Yet, a sinking coldness only grew within Ricky. Quanrui. Jagiya. You know I love you, right?
Gyuvin, he cautioned, both a reprimand and a plea. Whatever it is you have to say, say it.
Pain contorted Gyuvin’s features. They told me I have to marry soon.
Go on , Ricky urged. Prodding, like a foolish tiger.
They found me a match. Gyuvin’s grasp on his hands grew tighter, choking the life out of them. He was choking his heart with his words. Someone to marry.
In that moment, there was no word adequate enough in all three languages he knew to encapsulate the intense gamut of emotions he experienced; hurt, anger, sadness, despair, resignation, no way of describing the haunting he felt. I see.
Gyuvin shook his head. No. It’s not like that, Quanrui. It’s not.
Harshly, you and I both know that’s not true.
Please, he begged, eyes mirroring that same despair clogging his voice.
Ricky wrestled his hands out of Gyuvin’s grip. What is that you want, Gyuvin? For me to pretend like this is all okay? We’ve spent, what, nearly three years together? And in that time, I’ve spent most of it choosing to remain blind to reality ever since that day. But I knew the day would come, no matter how much I naively wished it wouldn’t, where this would all blow over. And it’s here now. Would you like to continue sustaining this charade? Each breath he took was painful. His eyes were beginning to tear up. He wished this was all a dream.
We can find a way, Quanrui. At that, Gyuvin reached forward to take Ricky’s hands again, but Ricky moved back, away and apart from him. Was Gyuvin ever this selfish, so blind to his pain?
Through gritted teeth, Ricky punctuated, there is no other way, Gyuvin. There is only whatever your parents have decided for you.
No. It’s soft, whispered.
Stop it, please. You have got to open your eyes.
No. He’s got his head in his hands, folded into himself as if he’s a clam trying to protect itself from the world.
Tomorrow, Ricky began. By tomorrow, I want all your stuff out of my house.
Then, he’s off the sofa, in full haste to the haven of his room. As he clicked his bedroom door shut, two hearts collectively shattered and crumbled, the final facades of fantasy having broken apart.
It ended with this: Gyuvin, alone on the sofa, weeping into his palms, Ricky, lying in his bed (
their
bed,
their
room, a silent voice haunts), letting his tears fall, tears that run a river across his face and stain the pillows that smell so much like Gyuvin.
-
The first few weeks were hard. When your ex is also your boss, things become extremely convoluted. For one, Ricky was unable to seek proper closure, not when he was to see Gyuvin’s face every day. When he broke up with his high school boyfriend, for instance, he had gone out of his way to only be out in the hallways whenever his ex was having classes and took the long route home even though it took him an hour more. In class, he made sure to be far away from any of his ex’s friends. Logically, Ricky had a clear way out in that he could have taken a couple of days off from work, or even more drastically, requested to be transferred to another department, but he was also incredibly headstrong; if he could not divide work matters from his personal feelings, he was sure to not survive in the corporate world.
Gyuvin, was thankfully, nothing but professional. Every morning, he walked by their desks and greeted each of them with a cheery grin and a cup of coffee in his hands, just as he used to. During department meetings, he often called on Ricky for input, relying on his final recommendations for decisions and judgements.
In fact, so cordial were they at work, that few picked up on their break-up. It was on one particular afternoon that Ricky was about to leave early, having finished all his work and finding no purpose in sticking around the office any longer, that he bumped into Gunwook at the washroom.
“Leaving so soon?” Gunwook asked, eyebrows raised in amazement.
“Yes?” Ricky is not quite sure why Gunwook’s so taken aback.
Gunwook makes his way to the hand dryer. “That’s peculiar. Not waiting for Gyuvin?”
It’s his turn to be thrown off. “And why would I be waiting for Gyuvin?”
Gunwook turns back from the dryer, staring at him as if Ricky’s grown a third eye. “Because he’s your boyfriend?” He says this matter-of-factly but also tinged with amusement, not unlike how a preschool teacher would tell a toddler that no, I am not your mummy.
“Oh,” Ricky says sheepishly. “We’re not…together anymore.”
Immediately, Gunwook does a full-body swivel as he pivots around his feet, eyes having grown as big as saucers. “Wait, really?”
“Well, yes.”
“Damn.” He falters; for the first time since Ricky’s met him, he’s evidently at a complete loss for words. “Uhmmmm…I’m sorry?”
Ricky laughs, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It was a harmless mistake.”
Nevertheless, the encounter lingers in his mind the entire way home. Ricky mulls over it and turns it over in his head round and round and round, somewhat awed at how resolutely undisturbed and unchanged they appeared to be to everyone around them. I suppose facades are all we’re good for, he muses.
-
The good thing about facades is that they break, however long they take. In this instance, he has Gyuvin to thank, because not more than a month after their breakup, his fiancee comes around to their office area, asking for him. It’s Ollie who relays this to Ricky, fidgeting endlessly as he does so. There’s a woman named Jang Wonyoung looking for Gyuvin, he says timidly… and she claims to be Gyuvin’s fiancee , to which Ricky laughs it off and tells him to go ahead and direct her to Gyuvin because she was, indeed, his fiancee. As soon as he says that, however, silence blankets the entire office and Ricky can feel, rather than see, all eyes turning to look upon him with shock, barring Gunwook.
Later, as he makes his way to Gyuvin’s office to hand over some important files, he manages to bump into her; she’s leaving right as Ricky arrives at his door, and she graces him with a pleasant smile and a nod before she’s on her way. She’s pretty, Ricky thinks, and devastatingly so, with a kind of fragility and delicateness that the best painters could only dream of capturing on canvas.
As per custom, he knocks on Gyuvin’s door before he hears him telling him to come in. Gyuvin’s eyes are glued on his laptop screen with a cup of coffee midway to his mouth when he registers the visage of Ricky at his door. Immediately, he puts it down, an awkward smile developing over his countenance. “Oh. It’s you.”
Ricky gives a slight nod. He holds out the files in his hands, “Here. You wanted this?”
“And these are…?” Gyuvin asks, flushed.
“The files on the possible acquisition of WakeOne.”
“Oh.” He nods. “Thanks.”
Ricky places the stack on Gyuvin’s table, careful to put them far away from his coffee. “I’ll take my leave now then,” he says with a slight bow.
“Uh…alright.”
With that, Ricky’s gone. The moment he’s back at his office area, however, the chatter immediately dies down. As he resumes clearing out his emails as he was doing prior, he makes out several of his colleagues intermittently sneaking glances at him from the corner of his eyes. Well, at least they all know now , he thinks.
-
Office gossip spreads like wildfire because the next Monday, he finds himself being cornered by Hao in the elevator.
As always, they fall into speaking in Mandarin whenever they’re alone together. “Shen Quanrui, is it true that you and Gyuvin broke up?” But because Hao’s tone is so intimidating, it comes off less as a question and more as an interrogation, which is certainly fitting, as Hao had pressed for the elevator to take them to the highest floor - the 70th - which gave them plenty of time.
Ricky sighs. “Yes.” He’s not quite sure how many more inquisitions into his personal life he can take.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
There’s a moment of silence before Hao speaks again. “Quanrui-yah, I’m sorry.” (对不起 rolls off his tongue so softly and gently that if he were in a less composed state, he would easily dissolve into tears).
Ricky leans his head against the walls of the elevator. “Everyone keeps telling me they’re sorry, Hao. But what are they sorry for? That it ended?” He shrugs. “We broke up, as people do. There’s nothing worth apologising about.”
Hao shakes his head. “That’s a problem you see, the way you act so cool and aloof. You’ve barely gotten out of a long-term relationship with him, and now he’s engaged to some other person? That’s quite the betrayal.”
Sometimes, he wishes Hao would cease with his nagging, as much as he appreciates him. “Gyuvin doesn’t owe me anything, Hao. We’re over. He can live his life as he wants, just as I do mine. You have to understand that,” he says, pointedly.
Hao falls silent, although Ricky can still sense dissatisfaction radiating off of him. So, to quell him, he offers him something he’s hardly let himself ruminate over ever since that day. “Besides,” he murmurs, “I was always expecting it. It was just a matter of time.”
-
Much to his own surprise, Ricky is able to hold out for several months before he finally arrives at the conclusion that he has to move on to another fresh chapter of his life, and start anew on a clean slate.
He’s on Facetime with Yujin, his beloved junior from high school, when the younger suddenly breaks into a question. “Are you planning on staying at Bloom?”
Ricky’s too busy perfecting his eyeliner that he barely registers what Yujin asked, until the words settle in his mind, to which he puts his eyeliner down on his vanity table and responds, in turn, with a question. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s been months since the breakup. And I know you’ve adjusted well - or you appear to - but, y’know, change is good. And no matter what, having your ex as a colleague, let alone your boss, is always going to incite some tension.” Yujin must see Ricky’s quirked eyebrow, because he hastily adds, “Maybe not now, but it’s a possibility that’s certainly not low. You never know what might happen, especially when there’s so much… history.”
“Hmmm…is that so? Truly?”
Yujin inches closer to his camera, until all that’s visible on screen is his singular eye. He must have thought it to look menacing, as in an attempt to elevate his theatrics, but all it does is make him tenfold more adorable. “Consider this: when you broke up with Jingxiang, you basically upended your entire routine to avoid him at all costs. That change was good, because you managed to spend your last year in high school with no drama and all fun. And you were happy, really happy. Remember?”
“But Jingxiang was different.”
Yujin rolls his singular eyeball. “Of course he was different. No two people are the same, duh. The key point here is: change is good,” he draws out the last word, adding extra emphasis to it, “and I think change is what you need at this stage in your life. You’ve already healed, so what you need now is growth. Growth which, Bloom,” he pauses, laughing at the lexical irony, “cannot provide you with because there’s always going to be some sort of emotional stagnancy present.”
Ricky supposes Han Sauron has got some wise words up his sleeve. “Well then, how do you suggest I go about seeking this change?”
Yujin moves away from his screen, till his full frame appears again. “However you want to, I suppose. Get a job at a place that’s guaranteed to not have dealings with Bloom, somewhere across Seoul…maybe somewhere across Korea…or you could, y’know, even go abroad.”
Ricky hums thoughtfully. “Abroad?”
“Yep,” Yujin nods earnestly. “Wherever, so long as it’s away.”
“But if I go abroad, then what about you?” Ricky teases.
“What what about me? You’ll always have me,” Yujin says mock-condescendingly as if Ricky’s the child here. “And besides,” he smiles, “we’ll always have Facetime. And Kakao. Or whatever you decide to use.”
“Silly brat,” he says, not unaffectionately.
“Yeah, I know. But you love me anyway.”
Ricky nods in acknowledgement; Yujin has always been his rock, his pillar, the one person he could count on to always be there for him, and to know him so absurdly well inside and out that sometimes, he’s afraid of letting him know everything. Yet, the younger manages to figure him out no matter what and offer him much-needed truths and realisations. So when he says, “I do,” it’s so much more than a playful admission on his part, but also a thank you for all that he’s done. Yujin must know this, because as soon as their call is over, he sends him an overly-garish neon red animated sticker on Kakao that flashes “I HEART YOU” in English.
With his newfound realisation, Ricky moves to his desk and gets to drafting his two-week notice. He’s yet to decide on what he’ll do after leaving Bloom, but this, he decides, as he finishes typing his last word, is a good start.
-
Ricky’s a good week into his leave-cum-pseudo-resignation when he receives an email directed to his work account.
From: Kim Gyuvin <[email protected]>
To: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
Subject: (no subject)
Date: 21 December 2029, 15:10
What is it that I hear about you resigning?
-
From: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
To: Kim Gyuvin <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: (no subject)
Date: 21 December 2029, 15:53
Dear Mr Kim,
As per company protocol, it is ill-advised to email anyone on annual leave.
Regards,
Ricky Shen
-
From: Kim Gyuvin <[email protected]>
To: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
Subject: (no subject)
Date: 21 December 2029, 16:54
Could you stop with that? Answer me.
-
From: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
To: Kim Gyuvin <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: (no subject)
Date: 21 December 2029, 18:10
Dear Mr Kim,
As per my last email, as per company protocol, it is ill-advised to email anyone on annual leave. Any further violations will be brought up to upper management.
Regards,
Ricky Shen
-
From: Kim Gyuvin <[email protected]>
To: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
Subject: (no subject)
Date: 21 December 2029, 18:11
Ricky. Please.
-
From: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
To: Sung Hanbin <[email protected]>
Subject: Violation of company protocol
Date: 21 December 2029, 18:13
Dear Hanbin,
Mr. Kim Gyuvin has been sending emails to my work account despite having full awareness of my being on annual leave. Despite conveying a warning to him, he has persisted still. This being a clear violation of company protocol, could you relay it to him through upper management that he cease contacting me? Many apologies for emailing you past working hours, as well as for the inconvenience caused.
Much thanks,
Ricky
-
From: Sung Hanbin <[email protected]>
To: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: Violation of company protocol
Date: 21 December 2029, 18:20
Dear Ricky,
No worries at all; I have conveyed this to upper management. Should Mr Kim persist still, do let me know.
Warmest regards,
Hanbin
-
From: Ricky Shen <[email protected]>
To: Sung Hanbin <[email protected]>
Subject: Re: Re: Violation of company protocol
Date: 21 December 2029, 18:22
Dear Hanbin,
As always, many thanks to you.
Much love,
Ricky
-
Barely half an hour later, Ricky’s in the middle of re-watching the third season of Sweet Home as part of his Netflix marathon when his phone pings with a Gmail alert. Frowning, he reaches for it, only to see it’s an email from Gyuvin. He’s about to reach over to his laptop to send yet another email to Hanbin, when he realises it’s from Gyuvin’s personal account.
From: Gyuvin <[email protected]>
To: Ricky <[email protected]>
Subject: (no subject)
Date: 21 December 2029, 18:56
Ricky. Please. Why are you doing this?
-
Ricky is floored. Utterly floored. Leave it to Gyuvin to find a way to bend the rules as he wished, though in this case, he certainly wasn’t flouting any.
His finger itches at his keyboard, fully tempted to send Gyuvin something along the lines of “Dear Sir, u’re engaged pls stop contacting ur ex. it’s over & move on god” , but he’s half-afraid of the consequences of his poor impulse control, and half-afraid of what Gyuvin might do in retaliation.
The solution was simple: block Gyuvin’s email, just as he did his personal number and Kakao and Instagram and Facebook and Telegram and Tiktok the moment Hanbin confirmed his resignation, but Gyuvin could always create multiple, endless accounts to email him nonetheless. Ricky could also create a new email account, but this one was tied to so many of his accounts and subscriptions, that shifting everything over would be a nightmare.
Yet, some part of him wishes to hold on to this modicum of contact with Gyuvin. It’s all that he has left of him. Growing up, Ricky would always hear stories of red strings and inyeon and soulmates, but never believed in them. How can there be a destined one, when change is bound to happen? Among billions and billions of people out there, the concept of a fated lover pales. But he understands why such beliefs exist; with Gyuvin, he had felt so much love, loved so deeply and thoroughly that if he were any more Panglossian, he would’ve called him his soulmate, his eternal half. If you were to ask Ricky what he believed in more instead, he would say 缘分 - yuan fen, a less romantic, more earthy concept to describe what he has with Gyuvin. Perhaps he and Gyuvin were always meant to come together in some way or another, but not destined to stay together; 有缘无分, as they say. It was a phrase his mother said once in passing about her first love, something which he never truly understood, until Gyuvin.
The thing about love and humans, however, is that sometimes, and more often than not, it cannot be rationalised nor parcelled out like the geometric rules of mathematics or empirical laws of science. There is no direct cause-effect, rule, or set reaction to explain or attain a specific state of being. It is because love is irrational, that Ricky is here, mulling over a lost love, the notion of love, all the what-ifs and have-nots in his relationship with Gyuvin, and why he has yet to block Gyuvin still despite the rational portion of his mind screaming at him to do so.
Because love persists still, he shuts off his phone, right as it dings with another Gmail notification. No longer in the mood for anything, Ricky turns off his iPad and heads back to bed, the very same bed that Gyuvin used to lie in years ago. Now, it’s been mostly been a little too empty, aching for another body to rest within its embrace, like a metonym of his soul; on some nights, Ricky lies wide awake, unable to sleep despite his wishing to, consumed by memories both painful and blissful, wishing that when morning came, he would find Gyuvin next to him, brown hair splayed over the pillows, the infallible portrait of an unyielding love.
-
In LA, Ricky wakes up cold. It’s not so much the climate as it is a spiritual coldness. He is, after all, thousands of kilometres away from everyone he’s ever loved and cherished. And despite the past two years he’s spent in the city, he’s yet to fully acclimatise to it. He doubts he ever will. Granted, the two years so far had done him good. He had met new people, loved new people, and grown immensely, just as Yujin said he would, but the phantom aches stayed and built a home within him, and they flare up every now and then.
It is on particular one morning in LA, a morning just like any other morning, when he wakes to a Gmail notification from Gyuvin. Gyuvin, for all his obstinacy, continued to email him ceaselessly, having figured out that Ricky, for some reason, had yet to block him. His emails range from quotidian tirades about his daily life, both at work and at home, to questionings on Ricky’s well-being and how he’s been holding up, to emotional, achingly vulnerable and lengthy chunks of writing sent way past midnight in KST lamenting how he misses Ricky, how he wishes Ricky would come back, how he loves Ricky even after all these years. Sometimes, they’re a mix of all of them.
Ricky never gives Gyuvin the grace of a reply, but he reads them all, something he knows Gyuvin knows, and Gyuvin knows Ricky knows that he knows. They’ve been dancing this twisted tango for years, and if Ricky were a better person, he would stop for Wonyoung’s sake.
Today, the email Gyuvin sends is long, perhaps the longest one he’s sent yet. As he reads through it, his vision blurs until he completely loses sight of the screen, crying in a way he hadn’t for years, not since the night they broke up.
From: Gyuvin <[email protected]>
To: Ricky <[email protected]>
Subject: for you
Date: 5th February 2031, 09:34
Quanrui-yah, I’m getting married tomorrow. Maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t. Anyway, I’m telling you now, so now I definitely know you do. How’s it in LA today? If it ever gets too cold for you, please turn the heater on and wear an extra layer or two. If you get sick you’ll be feeling miserable for a while.
I spent the entirety of last night thinking about us because of the wedding and I’m not sure if I ever told you this, but around a year or so into our relationship I thought a great deal about us getting married legally. I even had plans - I considered Taiwan and South Africa and the US (I really liked the idea of a Vegas wedding) and I would have vivid dreams of you walking down the aisle - sometimes in a dress, sometimes in a jumpsuit, sometimes in a suit, either way you looked beautiful - and when I woke up in the morning I would see you peacefully sleeping away and I would always think, God, this man is beautiful, please, let me have him for the rest of my life. I even got us engraved wedding rings after a dream that was so vivid I almost thought it was real - with KR for Kim Ricky and SG for Shen Gyuvin - and I hid them in the black closet in the third compartment under a shirt you hardly wore because you hated it so much yet couldn’t bear to throw away because it was so expensive, so you would never find it. Obviously it never amounted to anything because look at where we are now. The morning after we broke up and you were out of the house and I was packing up my things, I was clearing out the closet when I remembered the rings and I teared up so damn hard when I found them again because I remembered all those dreams and wishes of us I used to have and then there was the painful awareness of the reality of how invariably broken we had become. I still have the rings with me in my jewellery box, although I haven’t looked at them in years because I’m afraid to.
When I woke this morning I was in tears again and I figured it must be because I was dreaming about us, about you. If time travel were real I would go through time in a heartbeat to undo all my fuckups just so I’d be with you still. I would go all the way back to the day we first met, on the 17th floor in my former office, just so I’d do everything right; be honest with you right from the start, fought harder for you and us. Do you remember that day? Because I do, and to be honest, I think every moment I had with you is forever emblazoned in my mind.
But Quanrui, the thing is I can’t do all that - I can’t change the past. The past remains in the past and it haunts me every day and it haunts me that I can’t do anything to change it, to make it better in some way such that maybe tomorrow it’d be you I was getting married to.
My sister and Seungeon and Yunseo and Hao have all been telling me to reconsider everything before it’s too late. Hao especially. Maybe if I was less of a coward I would, but there’s so much pressure on me, Quanrui, that I almost feel like drowning. I can’t let down my parents nor Wonyoung nor her parents nor everyone else but the more I push on the more suffocated and empty I feel. I can’t let everyone down but I also can’t let myself, let us, down. How selfish is that of me? Am I being selfish? I beg God every day to tell me what to do but he never answers. So Quanrui-yah, what should I do?
Know this: if you somehow showed up at the wedding tomorrow, I would call it quits & run away with you in a heartbeat, all of this be damned. Maybe this is the most selfish wish of mine; that you’d make the decision for me, instead of me having to make it myself. It’s going to be held at the hotel right next to the restaurant we had our first date at - do you remember that too? In the grand ballroom, at 3pm. If you show up…I’d be right there with you in an instant.
But I know you won’t. You’re too kind-hearted to do that. Some part of me hates you for that. Some part of me hated you for walking away from our relationship and giving up on us, even though I know I was all in the wrong and that faulting you is ridiculous and absurd. So have this: after tomorrow, I’ll cease all of this if you give me any sign or indication. Tell me to stop and I will, and we will go our separate ways from there. Can you do this much for me?
I love you, Quanrui. You were my first serious love, and you are my last love. I’m sorry for everything. Please, for my sake, stay safe and healthy.
Yours always,
Gyuvin
-
It’s a cold, cold morning in LA, and love, Ricky thinks, is painful.