Challenge #1 -- Entry 13
Title: one-winged birds
Pairing: jay/seungri (if you squint, tilt your head, and count to 300), no pairings really
Rating: pg
Genre: slice of life
Summary: Jaebum admits his mistakes and broken weaknesses and maybe that’s what attracts Seungri the most.
Song(s) used for inspiration: Both songs
A/N: The fragility of bonds. The continuance of life. It’s complete, utter AR because as far as my limited knowledge of kpop goes, Big Bang and 2PM didn’t share stages. And their promotions during 2008-2009 never shared stages either so I made things up. I’m sorry.
----------
The exalted feeling of a night spent under the stars with someone challenging him to a battle of movement hits him like a quick jolt of electricity. He coughs loudly. There is no one around to hear him except for the cry of waves breaking foamy white against the piers. The Emerald City holds no gems for him tonight, but it gleams with its own brilliance under the velvet night, a soft green glow mixing with blue-gray wilderness.
He finishes his coffee with a satisfying slurp and crumbles the plastic. All it does is fold in on itself and places pressure back onto his palms. He drops the crumpled plastic and the top falls off, splattering small drops out onto the sidewalk. It looks like a firework ending its own life and he picks it up, arms poised over his head to throw the thing into the bent trash can when he hears someone shout his name.
He stops and looks around, arms lowering, hips turning. There is no one. Maybe he had imagined it.
By the time the plastic hits the bottom of the can, he is running away into the darkness.
There are dances to make, music to move to, and things to do.
Life always goes on.
The next day, he uploads a video of him dancing on YouTube. There are a lot less views and comments, and he doesn’t care about that. He’s done it for the fun of it, because he wanted to, a short clip of him moving. He thinks it’s time to capture the skill of motion.
Jay thinks he’s done an all right job, and that’s what really matters.
-----
The library is nearly empty; the day is sunny and bright with the small wisps of clouds hanging over the city. Jay goes into the library and reserves a computer.
He basically gets one right away and logs in before searching for lyrics. He mostly memorized the whole song, but it’s a “just-in-case”, a backup in case his memory fails him. The lyrics are printed out and he’s done with the computer. The crisp, clean paper is stuffed into his bag, falling down next to open wrappers of half-eaten candy.
The next time he takes it out, it’s crumbled with multicolored stains, and he crosses out the parts where he thinks he should rap. He wants these videos to have little meanings for himself, not just to the fans. He can already feel the beat and there are lyrics on the tip of his tongue.
Hunched over the paper, he stares at it, rewriting and rewriting lyrics.
First of all, it should rhyme.
I get approached a lot being who I am
Okay. That works.
It’s not wonderful or great, but it’s a start.
-----
He sniffles, thinks that he really ought to do this and get it over with, and bangs his funny bone against the door. Jay nearly drops the laptop, and the carefully balanced webcam slides precariously. He rights himself automatically, tears forming in his eyes.
Ouch.
Maybe this is a sign for him to stop, a sign for him to not make a video today, but he grinds his teeth together and places his things on the sink after using a hand to brush off some water. He’s going to do this today.
Okay, he thinks and uses his hands to wipe his lips. This is it. The music starts and he rubs his face. Sniffles a little.
A deep breath. Let it out. Shake his head to loosen some muscles.
And he starts.
Pauses.
The music picks up again and he looks into the webcam, a beady little eye staring right back.
He sings, makes little motions with his hands, and hopes that his voice won’t give out because Jay only wants to do this once, this perfect one little time. He finds himself moving to the beat, back and forth, swaying a modest little bit.
When he finishes, he watches the video. His voice is all over the place and the vibrations in the bathroom makes him wince.
It doesn’t matter.
He’s done.
-----
Junsu’s voice hardens immediately and Jay changes the phone from one hand to the other. “I have a message for you.”
Jay absentmindedly plays with the phone cord and twists it around his forefinger. “Hm,” he grunts, “what is it?”
“You know Jiyong, right?” Junsu sounds angry, painful. Jay doesn’t want to talk anymore.
Jay pulls his finger away from the cord and it snaps back, hits the wall, and hangs dejectedly. “Who?”
“Jiyong. G-Dragon. For God’s sake, Jaebum, he’s the one that sold a lot, the one in Big Bang, my friend.”
“Right. And?” He remembers blond hair and plagiarism, a heart breaker and a gilded cage.
Junsu’s voice is cold and tight. “Well, he wants me to tell you, thanks for screwing up his maknae.”
Jay is startled. He jerks the phone away from his ear and looks at it, nearly seeing Junsu’s half-grin in the mouthpiece. He slowly eases it back to his ear and Junsu’s breathing is being filtered from an ocean away. “What?”
“Think about it,” says the man on the other side of the phone, on the other side of the world. “I don’t know what you did to that kid, but apparently, Jiyong thinks you’ve done something bad. Bye.”
“Wait, hyung, I didn’t speak to--!” Junho’s voice is cut off as the line falls flat, one of the few lines tying Jay to the world of glamour and glitter cut. Jay stares at the white nothingness of the wall until a woman’s voice makes him jump. He has been trying to remember a boy’s face, but the name slips past him into a night with two spotlights.
He goes outside.
It’s a nice day with slow ocean breezes.
He thinks it’s time to go to the beach.
Maybe take some friends and his little...
No, he’ll go alone.
When he arrives, the beach isn’t empty, as he had hoped, but rather full. There is a secluded little spot where there are large boulders stacked next to each other and he makes a little circle for himself.
The water is cool and slippery; he falls into it several times. The ocean plucks his hat from his head and he has to swim for it.
He’s tired. I can’t go on like this.
Jay opens his hand, fingers stretched far apart from each other, the bones a stark pale peach against his skin. The sunlight streams through the cracks and he sees a little bit of those rainbow hexagons spill across the earth. He closes his eyes and finds a crooked smile slowly opening to warm brown eyes buried within a darkness he thought he had shut out.
He does the same at night, when it is just him and the lulling recording of waves within a seashell’s body.
The back-and-forth phone calls stop. Sometimes, he waits by the phone, head in his hands. Other times, Jehan picks up and whenever he speaks in rough, angry Korean, Jaebum knows that it’s for him.
“Be nicer to the people on the other side of the phone,” he chides.
Jehan frowns and looks away. “I have to protect you, ya’know? They want to hurt you and you’re just letting them.”
Jay wonders when Jehan became the protector.
-----
He thinks of a night under two spotlights and another boy who dances to the beat of the city. The boy’s eyes are Korean. His build is Korean. The words that roll off his tongue are Korean.
The way he moves is dance.
He saw this guy dance before, but there was none of that unrestrained force and power, none of that wild beauty. He wonders where it goes when the boy is onstage with the other members of his group. Does he keep it inside and persuade it to grow unnoticed until the door opens? Does it expand horizons and fulfill the melody of the world? He has never seen free styling done so well before to an unheard song, but with such a familiar melody of life.
The way the kid moves is contagious and he finds himself trying to copy the movements before stopping to understand the slick actions.
A subtle flick of the wrist, a quick turn of an ankle, and there are so many small details that he isn’t able to remember them all.
When the boy finishes, he feels like he’s finally breathing again. That was a dance.
-----
He’s on the bus, a cell phone in hand. There are other Seattleites on the bus, a few scattered over the seats and some badgering the driver.
A girl wearing a red Abercrombie hoodie, faded blue jeans, and a white Nike shoes, stares at him with eyes frowning. He looks away from them and into the city lights. He rests his shoulder on the glass and keeps his hair away because he has no idea what person sat in his seat before. The bus rumbles across streaked black streets and lights flash pass him.
“Hey,” mumbles a voice. Jay looks up slowly, unsure if the speaker is talking to him. It is the girl decked out in American clothing. “Are you...?” she begins, falters, and then clears her throat. “Sorry, but are you Park Jaebum?”
Jay blinks and nods. “Yeah. Hi. Nice to meet you.”
The girl tilts her head a little and smiles. “Yeah, you too. I was... Well, you see, my friend is a big fan of yours and I was wondering if you could, you know...,” she gestures awkwardly, “sign something.”
“Oh, sure.”
Relief spreads across her face. “Oh, thank you so much. My friend will love it, thank you.” She hands him a notebook and turns her head to search for a pen from her pockets. “Here. Thank you so much.”
Jay grins back shyly. “No problem.” He takes the pen from her and with one hand supporting the notebook, signs with a flourish. “Here.”
The girl takes it from him. The sudden silence feels awkward and as the bus stops moving, he stands up and motions towards the door. “It’s my stop right now so…”
“Oh,” the girl says. “Of course, I’m so sorry.” She gets out of his way. “Thank you.”
He flashes her a quick smile and breezes through the doors. The bus slowly pulls away from the stop and when Jay glances into it, the girl is hugging the notebook to her chest, head bowed.
He begins to walk as the bus turns the corner. It’s quite a walk to his house. He begins to shuffle his feet and pull out his headphones. Might as well get some music.
-----
He’s reminded of the movie Titanic and something about a guy holding up a girl who looks like she’s flying. He doesn’t remember their names and he really doesn’t care, but it truly feels different when it’s him and the rush of wind.
The long line of lights curve through the water.
Maybe it’s time to move on.
-----
He finds out on the Internet. He reads the words and then closes the browser, shuts off the laptop, and searches for Youngbae to snuggle up against.
“What’s wrong?” the older man asks as he takes hold of his arm.
“Nothin’,” he mumbles. “I just....”
Youngbae smiles knowingly. “Nerves? We’ll be all right tomorrow. Just wow the crowd, remember?”
“Wow the crowd,” Seungri repeats. “Right. We’ll wow the crowd.”
“Electric Love Tour, okay? It has to be electric-fying,” says Youngbae as he pokes the maknae’s cheek.
Seungri smiles a little. “Of course. Electrifying. No problem.”
He closes his eyes and listens to Youngbae hum under his breath. The next day, he plays up the fan service until Jiyong corners him after the concert.
“What was that today?” Jiyong hisses.
“What was what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” growls Jiyong, nails digging into Seungri’s wrist. “What was all that?”
“It was nothing.”
-----
The basketball is old and memorable in his hands as he bounces it down the street to the court. It’s empty, a desolate looking place guarded with two bare-boned trees. He looks around before scurrying into the court. There are new cracks down the middle and the paint has faded some colors, but it feels well-known to him.
Jay plays by himself until the sun is near mid-sky and a group of people join him. It’s a quick, fun game; he’s on the losing side until the last few minutes when his team steps up its game. Somehow, things end in a tie and he leaves.
If only life is this easy.
He goes to the corner store, a small quaint shop with flickering lights and dead bulbs. There are shoved candies that line the counter, sodas and milk squished together in the freezer, and a fly buzzing around the fruit stand.
He gets a bagel and coffee and heads out.
Jay ends up on a bench overlooking the ocean, the ease of flow of the water making rhythmic sounds.
After eating the majority of the bagel, he tosses it off to the side. A seagull cocks its head and he does the same. It flies down from its position on the lamp post and takes several hopping steps towards him.
“Hey,” he says. He’s talking to birds now. Wonderful.
The seagull hops closer and Jay scoots away. It basically runs towards the bagel and begins to tear it apart. Jay watches with a small half-smile on his face. Another seagull soars down.
He watches the two seagulls fight over the half-finished bagel. Their calls and flapping wings mesmerize him, shrill cries and dirty feathers scratching the pavement.
“Hey, Jay!” He looks up. A friend. A hand on his shoulder, warm and friendly. “Are you ready to go?”
“Go where?” he asks, sounding bewildered and lost. He clears his throat to get rid of the childishness, but he isn’t sure if it works. The hand squeezes his shoulder lightly, almost as if believing he will shatter if the hold is too tight. He wants to say that he can take it, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Go away. Somewhere, anywhere. Let’s go.” The words flow out in a gentle stream and washes over him, pulling him slowly toward solid ground.
“All right.” He doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to really, but he throws out an arm to put around the lifesaving ring that is chucked at him.
It’s only way later that he realizes it had been his brother, Jehan, who used to be the one who looked up at him with wide awed eyes, that had taken him to the old ice cream shop.
He wonders when Jehan started wearing this weak smile on his face, when Jehan looks at him with knowing eyes, and most of all, when Jehan becomes the one that’s taking care of him.
He remembers fighting with this kid, this little immature monster, and marvels at the man he sees before him. He missed this part of his brother’s life and he doesn’t want to miss any more pieces.
-----
Jaebum appreciates it.
The boy is made of awkward smiles and dark circles, but he’s pretty sure that he’s made up of the same.
“I watched your performance,” the boy says quietly, looking painfully clumsy with his words, fingers on the hem of a T-shirt overlapped by a jacket. “It was cool.”
Jaebum doesn’t understand Koreans, really. He’s too busy racking his memory for an image of this boy. He doesn’t remember where he had seen him before. He looks oddly familiar, but something is off. “Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say besides that. If the boy is a fan, then perhaps he will ask for an autograph or give him a gift. Maybe go away after a few more gawks.
This boy is more confident and self-assured. He looks as though he knows somewhat why they are out in the night, closed off from the rest of the show.
“I wanted to ask you,” says the boy, rubbing his hands together, maintaining eye contact, “if you could teach me how to, um, bboy better.”
Jaebum raises his eyebrows and stops himself from right-out gawking, but he’s too late to stop his lips from quirking upwards. “Can you do any moves?” He tries to play nice, tries to let the boy down nicely, but the boy grins at him, a tooth over his bottom lip.
“Yeah! I can show you!” The boy falls to his knees and begins a six-step. However, when he goes on to try a flip, his arms give and his face meets the ground. He hurries over to the boy’s side, fingers landing lightly on his shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he asks, concern on his features. “Did you hurt yourself?”
The boy lifts his head and a bright grin meets his eyes. “Nah, I’m fine. Just didn’t practice in a while so...,” the boy says and then trails off as he struggles to get to his feet. Jaebum takes his arm and pulls. “Thanks.”
“Well,” Jaebum says as he turns a critical eye towards the boy and tries to remember how the boy had moved. “You should definitely practice some more if you’ve got the basics down. You could take it easy first and maybe join a club or team and practice with other people.” He notices that the boy deflates a little. He gives him an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry; you can probably join a crew and it’s really fun and stuff.”
“Do you know who I am?” the boy asks, all fidgeting gone, a steely glint in his eyes.
“Er, sorry?” he says, this time racking his brain for a clue. If this boy was the son of some important--
The boy beams at him, a happy little crooked grin. “Hi,” he says, “I’m Lee Seunghyun from Big Bang. I’m sorry I forgot to introduce myself.” The way he says it makes Jaebum think differently; it almost seems planned.
Oh, Jaebum thinks faintly. Oh.
He shuffles his feet and bows. “Hello, I am--” The boy interrupts him.
“I know,” he says. “I know.“ There is finality to his voice and Jaebum can’t help but grin back.
“If you teach me how to bboy, I can teach you have to salsa,” Lee Seunghyun says.
Jaebum’s lips tremble and he feels as though this kid ought to be one of those outgoing guys that just didn’t fit in. “Sure,” he answers with a tilt of his lips, “but, uh, I don’t think I need to know how to salsa.”
“Oh, well, it’s really fun. C’mon, just try?”
-----
Throughout the next few months, whenever he sees the words BIGBANG filed under the small program, he grins into his hands.
“What’s up with you?” Taecyeon asks sometimes when he’s giddy.
“Nothing,” he answers and folds the paper in half.
After their performances, he slips away into dark alleyways and Lee Seunghyun would wait for him, pacing all the while, muttering under his breath.
The kid’s weird, but it’s a good kind of weird.
When the rumors about Seungri of Big Bang hanging out around backstage to prey on the pretty girls, Jaebum hoots into his hands.
“What’s so funny?” Chansung asks as he glances over the shoulder. “What are you reading, hyung?”
Jaebum closes the browser. “It’s nothing.” He continues to snicker as Chansung raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”
When he sees the boy, he’s the same ball of sunshine. Jaebum grins.
-----
He remembers when he would go to the second nearest park because it had a small pond there, often filled with Canadian geese, a few dozen white ducks, and three roosters. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, he sees a rabbit, white and spotted black.
He sits there, legs drawn up to his chest, arms around his knees, and he watches these animals interact with each other. He calls them different names.
First, “Chansung” is the one with a little feather always sticking up from his crown. He would hoard the food and chase away the others. It’s a grumpy little duck, but Jay remembers one time when he had been running in the rain through the park, “Chansung” made the group huddle under a man-made cave. Jay had slowed down as the duck waddled into another section and came out with a long stick of bread. He had continued running, but with a grin on his face this time.
“Junsu” is the brightly colored rooster, hues of dye running into each other. “Junsu” is the one that struts around with the other roosters, but he trips on rocks and squawks loudly. It’s amusing, but Jay frowns when “Junsu” plucks out his feathers.
“Nichkhun” is the king of the Canadian geese. The Canadian king, Jay thinks and giggles to himself. “Nichkhun” leads the other geese and Jay once took a camera to the park just to admire the goose through lens.
“Junho”, the fleeting spotted rabbit, hops around. Jay doesn’t see much of him, but when he does, he feels like he’s captured a rare prize.
He calls the little snarky duckling “Wooyoung” because he pushes the rabbit and jumps all over “Chansung”. It’s endearing in a way that makes his heart ache.
“Taecyeon” is the turtle in the pond. He doesn’t know why, but “Taecyeon” reminds him of the real Taecyeon.
He starts to name animals after people in real life. “Jehan” is a little duckling and “Yoon” becomes the biggest orange-white fish in the pond.
“Lee Seunghyun” is the little pigeon that always stays on the twelfth branch of the tallest tree. Sometimes, he flies down to nibble at the bread crumbs that Jay breaks off from his sandwich, but he is usually chased out by the other pigeons. However, whenever the other pigeons fly away and it’s only that little pigeon scratching mournfully at the ground, Jay tosses the last bits of his food.
One day, he goes to the park and doesn’t see “Lee Seunghyun” on the branch. Jay edges closer to the tree until he sees the mangled body of a little bird, feathers and red mingling together.
It’s like a wake-up call. He’s going crazy. He’s got to stop this.
Jay stays away from the park.
“What’s up?” Yoon asks as he slides next to Jay.
“I don’t know where I’m going in my life,” Jay confesses. “It’s... hard.”
Yoon smiles softly and knocks his hand against Jay’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” he advises. “Finding out is half the fun. You know what I think you should do?”
“What?”
“Go back to dancing and singing like the old times, yeah?”
Jay shakes his head. “It’s too soon.”
Yoon shrugs. “It’s just a suggestion. Don’t worry too much about it. Go back to doing what you love to do. You’ve been in touch with the boys in AOM, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Go back and have some fun.”
“I do already.”
“That’s good then.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
-----
The first time he sees Yoon after the incident, it is in the airport and they all wave to him, family and friend. He waves back, a little beating heart crying as it shakes itself apart.
“Hey,” says Yoon.
“Hey yourself,” Jay answers and there are little tears knocking on his lids, asking to be let out.
“How’re you holding up?” Yoon asks seriously.
“All right.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Jay thinks back to when he is grabbed by the shoulders and shoved down in front of a computer. Taecyeon, with barely hidden uneasiness, clicking on a site. The dorm is silent as he reads and Taecyeon stumbles over some translations for him. He looks through the site and then leans back in the chair.
The human aspect of him comes to life.
“They want me to die,” he whispers in shock as he turns his head. No one in the dorm makes a sound and the clock ticks.
Here, it’s soft, comforting words and concerned eyes.
Yoon punches him on the shoulder lightly. “Man, you’re here now. It’s all right.”
-----
The first time Seungri sees the post, he frowns. The Jaebum that he knows is a sweet older kid, a bit lost, but he scowls at the words.
That’s not nice, he thinks and feels himself getting angry. I’ll just ask him the next time I see him. He closes the window and opens the one to BIGBANG’s homepage.
He never sees Jaebum again.
-----
“No, no, you have to do this, you see?” he says as he demonstrates. The kid nods seriously. “Yeah, you were a little off here, so maybe that’s why it didn’t work out. Want to try again?”
Seungri nods and tries again.
-----
A/N: It’s supposed to be backwardish: end, beginning, middle. I think I ruined it though. Damn it.
Pairing: jay/seungri (if you squint, tilt your head, and count to 300), no pairings really
Rating: pg
Genre: slice of life
Summary: Jaebum admits his mistakes and broken weaknesses and maybe that’s what attracts Seungri the most.
Song(s) used for inspiration: Both songs
A/N: The fragility of bonds. The continuance of life. It’s complete, utter AR because as far as my limited knowledge of kpop goes, Big Bang and 2PM didn’t share stages. And their promotions during 2008-2009 never shared stages either so I made things up. I’m sorry.
----------
The exalted feeling of a night spent under the stars with someone challenging him to a battle of movement hits him like a quick jolt of electricity. He coughs loudly. There is no one around to hear him except for the cry of waves breaking foamy white against the piers. The Emerald City holds no gems for him tonight, but it gleams with its own brilliance under the velvet night, a soft green glow mixing with blue-gray wilderness.
He finishes his coffee with a satisfying slurp and crumbles the plastic. All it does is fold in on itself and places pressure back onto his palms. He drops the crumpled plastic and the top falls off, splattering small drops out onto the sidewalk. It looks like a firework ending its own life and he picks it up, arms poised over his head to throw the thing into the bent trash can when he hears someone shout his name.
He stops and looks around, arms lowering, hips turning. There is no one. Maybe he had imagined it.
By the time the plastic hits the bottom of the can, he is running away into the darkness.
There are dances to make, music to move to, and things to do.
Life always goes on.
The next day, he uploads a video of him dancing on YouTube. There are a lot less views and comments, and he doesn’t care about that. He’s done it for the fun of it, because he wanted to, a short clip of him moving. He thinks it’s time to capture the skill of motion.
Jay thinks he’s done an all right job, and that’s what really matters.
-----
The library is nearly empty; the day is sunny and bright with the small wisps of clouds hanging over the city. Jay goes into the library and reserves a computer.
He basically gets one right away and logs in before searching for lyrics. He mostly memorized the whole song, but it’s a “just-in-case”, a backup in case his memory fails him. The lyrics are printed out and he’s done with the computer. The crisp, clean paper is stuffed into his bag, falling down next to open wrappers of half-eaten candy.
The next time he takes it out, it’s crumbled with multicolored stains, and he crosses out the parts where he thinks he should rap. He wants these videos to have little meanings for himself, not just to the fans. He can already feel the beat and there are lyrics on the tip of his tongue.
Hunched over the paper, he stares at it, rewriting and rewriting lyrics.
First of all, it should rhyme.
I get approached a lot being who I am
Okay. That works.
It’s not wonderful or great, but it’s a start.
-----
He sniffles, thinks that he really ought to do this and get it over with, and bangs his funny bone against the door. Jay nearly drops the laptop, and the carefully balanced webcam slides precariously. He rights himself automatically, tears forming in his eyes.
Ouch.
Maybe this is a sign for him to stop, a sign for him to not make a video today, but he grinds his teeth together and places his things on the sink after using a hand to brush off some water. He’s going to do this today.
Okay, he thinks and uses his hands to wipe his lips. This is it. The music starts and he rubs his face. Sniffles a little.
A deep breath. Let it out. Shake his head to loosen some muscles.
And he starts.
Pauses.
The music picks up again and he looks into the webcam, a beady little eye staring right back.
He sings, makes little motions with his hands, and hopes that his voice won’t give out because Jay only wants to do this once, this perfect one little time. He finds himself moving to the beat, back and forth, swaying a modest little bit.
When he finishes, he watches the video. His voice is all over the place and the vibrations in the bathroom makes him wince.
It doesn’t matter.
He’s done.
-----
Junsu’s voice hardens immediately and Jay changes the phone from one hand to the other. “I have a message for you.”
Jay absentmindedly plays with the phone cord and twists it around his forefinger. “Hm,” he grunts, “what is it?”
“You know Jiyong, right?” Junsu sounds angry, painful. Jay doesn’t want to talk anymore.
Jay pulls his finger away from the cord and it snaps back, hits the wall, and hangs dejectedly. “Who?”
“Jiyong. G-Dragon. For God’s sake, Jaebum, he’s the one that sold a lot, the one in Big Bang, my friend.”
“Right. And?” He remembers blond hair and plagiarism, a heart breaker and a gilded cage.
Junsu’s voice is cold and tight. “Well, he wants me to tell you, thanks for screwing up his maknae.”
Jay is startled. He jerks the phone away from his ear and looks at it, nearly seeing Junsu’s half-grin in the mouthpiece. He slowly eases it back to his ear and Junsu’s breathing is being filtered from an ocean away. “What?”
“Think about it,” says the man on the other side of the phone, on the other side of the world. “I don’t know what you did to that kid, but apparently, Jiyong thinks you’ve done something bad. Bye.”
“Wait, hyung, I didn’t speak to--!” Junho’s voice is cut off as the line falls flat, one of the few lines tying Jay to the world of glamour and glitter cut. Jay stares at the white nothingness of the wall until a woman’s voice makes him jump. He has been trying to remember a boy’s face, but the name slips past him into a night with two spotlights.
He goes outside.
It’s a nice day with slow ocean breezes.
He thinks it’s time to go to the beach.
Maybe take some friends and his little...
No, he’ll go alone.
When he arrives, the beach isn’t empty, as he had hoped, but rather full. There is a secluded little spot where there are large boulders stacked next to each other and he makes a little circle for himself.
The water is cool and slippery; he falls into it several times. The ocean plucks his hat from his head and he has to swim for it.
He’s tired. I can’t go on like this.
Jay opens his hand, fingers stretched far apart from each other, the bones a stark pale peach against his skin. The sunlight streams through the cracks and he sees a little bit of those rainbow hexagons spill across the earth. He closes his eyes and finds a crooked smile slowly opening to warm brown eyes buried within a darkness he thought he had shut out.
He does the same at night, when it is just him and the lulling recording of waves within a seashell’s body.
The back-and-forth phone calls stop. Sometimes, he waits by the phone, head in his hands. Other times, Jehan picks up and whenever he speaks in rough, angry Korean, Jaebum knows that it’s for him.
“Be nicer to the people on the other side of the phone,” he chides.
Jehan frowns and looks away. “I have to protect you, ya’know? They want to hurt you and you’re just letting them.”
Jay wonders when Jehan became the protector.
-----
He thinks of a night under two spotlights and another boy who dances to the beat of the city. The boy’s eyes are Korean. His build is Korean. The words that roll off his tongue are Korean.
The way he moves is dance.
He saw this guy dance before, but there was none of that unrestrained force and power, none of that wild beauty. He wonders where it goes when the boy is onstage with the other members of his group. Does he keep it inside and persuade it to grow unnoticed until the door opens? Does it expand horizons and fulfill the melody of the world? He has never seen free styling done so well before to an unheard song, but with such a familiar melody of life.
The way the kid moves is contagious and he finds himself trying to copy the movements before stopping to understand the slick actions.
A subtle flick of the wrist, a quick turn of an ankle, and there are so many small details that he isn’t able to remember them all.
When the boy finishes, he feels like he’s finally breathing again. That was a dance.
-----
He’s on the bus, a cell phone in hand. There are other Seattleites on the bus, a few scattered over the seats and some badgering the driver.
A girl wearing a red Abercrombie hoodie, faded blue jeans, and a white Nike shoes, stares at him with eyes frowning. He looks away from them and into the city lights. He rests his shoulder on the glass and keeps his hair away because he has no idea what person sat in his seat before. The bus rumbles across streaked black streets and lights flash pass him.
“Hey,” mumbles a voice. Jay looks up slowly, unsure if the speaker is talking to him. It is the girl decked out in American clothing. “Are you...?” she begins, falters, and then clears her throat. “Sorry, but are you Park Jaebum?”
Jay blinks and nods. “Yeah. Hi. Nice to meet you.”
The girl tilts her head a little and smiles. “Yeah, you too. I was... Well, you see, my friend is a big fan of yours and I was wondering if you could, you know...,” she gestures awkwardly, “sign something.”
“Oh, sure.”
Relief spreads across her face. “Oh, thank you so much. My friend will love it, thank you.” She hands him a notebook and turns her head to search for a pen from her pockets. “Here. Thank you so much.”
Jay grins back shyly. “No problem.” He takes the pen from her and with one hand supporting the notebook, signs with a flourish. “Here.”
The girl takes it from him. The sudden silence feels awkward and as the bus stops moving, he stands up and motions towards the door. “It’s my stop right now so…”
“Oh,” the girl says. “Of course, I’m so sorry.” She gets out of his way. “Thank you.”
He flashes her a quick smile and breezes through the doors. The bus slowly pulls away from the stop and when Jay glances into it, the girl is hugging the notebook to her chest, head bowed.
He begins to walk as the bus turns the corner. It’s quite a walk to his house. He begins to shuffle his feet and pull out his headphones. Might as well get some music.
-----
He’s reminded of the movie Titanic and something about a guy holding up a girl who looks like she’s flying. He doesn’t remember their names and he really doesn’t care, but it truly feels different when it’s him and the rush of wind.
The long line of lights curve through the water.
Maybe it’s time to move on.
-----
He finds out on the Internet. He reads the words and then closes the browser, shuts off the laptop, and searches for Youngbae to snuggle up against.
“What’s wrong?” the older man asks as he takes hold of his arm.
“Nothin’,” he mumbles. “I just....”
Youngbae smiles knowingly. “Nerves? We’ll be all right tomorrow. Just wow the crowd, remember?”
“Wow the crowd,” Seungri repeats. “Right. We’ll wow the crowd.”
“Electric Love Tour, okay? It has to be electric-fying,” says Youngbae as he pokes the maknae’s cheek.
Seungri smiles a little. “Of course. Electrifying. No problem.”
He closes his eyes and listens to Youngbae hum under his breath. The next day, he plays up the fan service until Jiyong corners him after the concert.
“What was that today?” Jiyong hisses.
“What was what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” growls Jiyong, nails digging into Seungri’s wrist. “What was all that?”
“It was nothing.”
-----
The basketball is old and memorable in his hands as he bounces it down the street to the court. It’s empty, a desolate looking place guarded with two bare-boned trees. He looks around before scurrying into the court. There are new cracks down the middle and the paint has faded some colors, but it feels well-known to him.
Jay plays by himself until the sun is near mid-sky and a group of people join him. It’s a quick, fun game; he’s on the losing side until the last few minutes when his team steps up its game. Somehow, things end in a tie and he leaves.
If only life is this easy.
He goes to the corner store, a small quaint shop with flickering lights and dead bulbs. There are shoved candies that line the counter, sodas and milk squished together in the freezer, and a fly buzzing around the fruit stand.
He gets a bagel and coffee and heads out.
Jay ends up on a bench overlooking the ocean, the ease of flow of the water making rhythmic sounds.
After eating the majority of the bagel, he tosses it off to the side. A seagull cocks its head and he does the same. It flies down from its position on the lamp post and takes several hopping steps towards him.
“Hey,” he says. He’s talking to birds now. Wonderful.
The seagull hops closer and Jay scoots away. It basically runs towards the bagel and begins to tear it apart. Jay watches with a small half-smile on his face. Another seagull soars down.
He watches the two seagulls fight over the half-finished bagel. Their calls and flapping wings mesmerize him, shrill cries and dirty feathers scratching the pavement.
“Hey, Jay!” He looks up. A friend. A hand on his shoulder, warm and friendly. “Are you ready to go?”
“Go where?” he asks, sounding bewildered and lost. He clears his throat to get rid of the childishness, but he isn’t sure if it works. The hand squeezes his shoulder lightly, almost as if believing he will shatter if the hold is too tight. He wants to say that he can take it, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Go away. Somewhere, anywhere. Let’s go.” The words flow out in a gentle stream and washes over him, pulling him slowly toward solid ground.
“All right.” He doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to really, but he throws out an arm to put around the lifesaving ring that is chucked at him.
It’s only way later that he realizes it had been his brother, Jehan, who used to be the one who looked up at him with wide awed eyes, that had taken him to the old ice cream shop.
He wonders when Jehan started wearing this weak smile on his face, when Jehan looks at him with knowing eyes, and most of all, when Jehan becomes the one that’s taking care of him.
He remembers fighting with this kid, this little immature monster, and marvels at the man he sees before him. He missed this part of his brother’s life and he doesn’t want to miss any more pieces.
-----
Jaebum appreciates it.
The boy is made of awkward smiles and dark circles, but he’s pretty sure that he’s made up of the same.
“I watched your performance,” the boy says quietly, looking painfully clumsy with his words, fingers on the hem of a T-shirt overlapped by a jacket. “It was cool.”
Jaebum doesn’t understand Koreans, really. He’s too busy racking his memory for an image of this boy. He doesn’t remember where he had seen him before. He looks oddly familiar, but something is off. “Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say besides that. If the boy is a fan, then perhaps he will ask for an autograph or give him a gift. Maybe go away after a few more gawks.
This boy is more confident and self-assured. He looks as though he knows somewhat why they are out in the night, closed off from the rest of the show.
“I wanted to ask you,” says the boy, rubbing his hands together, maintaining eye contact, “if you could teach me how to, um, bboy better.”
Jaebum raises his eyebrows and stops himself from right-out gawking, but he’s too late to stop his lips from quirking upwards. “Can you do any moves?” He tries to play nice, tries to let the boy down nicely, but the boy grins at him, a tooth over his bottom lip.
“Yeah! I can show you!” The boy falls to his knees and begins a six-step. However, when he goes on to try a flip, his arms give and his face meets the ground. He hurries over to the boy’s side, fingers landing lightly on his shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he asks, concern on his features. “Did you hurt yourself?”
The boy lifts his head and a bright grin meets his eyes. “Nah, I’m fine. Just didn’t practice in a while so...,” the boy says and then trails off as he struggles to get to his feet. Jaebum takes his arm and pulls. “Thanks.”
“Well,” Jaebum says as he turns a critical eye towards the boy and tries to remember how the boy had moved. “You should definitely practice some more if you’ve got the basics down. You could take it easy first and maybe join a club or team and practice with other people.” He notices that the boy deflates a little. He gives him an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry; you can probably join a crew and it’s really fun and stuff.”
“Do you know who I am?” the boy asks, all fidgeting gone, a steely glint in his eyes.
“Er, sorry?” he says, this time racking his brain for a clue. If this boy was the son of some important--
The boy beams at him, a happy little crooked grin. “Hi,” he says, “I’m Lee Seunghyun from Big Bang. I’m sorry I forgot to introduce myself.” The way he says it makes Jaebum think differently; it almost seems planned.
Oh, Jaebum thinks faintly. Oh.
He shuffles his feet and bows. “Hello, I am--” The boy interrupts him.
“I know,” he says. “I know.“ There is finality to his voice and Jaebum can’t help but grin back.
“If you teach me how to bboy, I can teach you have to salsa,” Lee Seunghyun says.
Jaebum’s lips tremble and he feels as though this kid ought to be one of those outgoing guys that just didn’t fit in. “Sure,” he answers with a tilt of his lips, “but, uh, I don’t think I need to know how to salsa.”
“Oh, well, it’s really fun. C’mon, just try?”
-----
Throughout the next few months, whenever he sees the words BIGBANG filed under the small program, he grins into his hands.
“What’s up with you?” Taecyeon asks sometimes when he’s giddy.
“Nothing,” he answers and folds the paper in half.
After their performances, he slips away into dark alleyways and Lee Seunghyun would wait for him, pacing all the while, muttering under his breath.
The kid’s weird, but it’s a good kind of weird.
When the rumors about Seungri of Big Bang hanging out around backstage to prey on the pretty girls, Jaebum hoots into his hands.
“What’s so funny?” Chansung asks as he glances over the shoulder. “What are you reading, hyung?”
Jaebum closes the browser. “It’s nothing.” He continues to snicker as Chansung raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”
When he sees the boy, he’s the same ball of sunshine. Jaebum grins.
-----
He remembers when he would go to the second nearest park because it had a small pond there, often filled with Canadian geese, a few dozen white ducks, and three roosters. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, he sees a rabbit, white and spotted black.
He sits there, legs drawn up to his chest, arms around his knees, and he watches these animals interact with each other. He calls them different names.
First, “Chansung” is the one with a little feather always sticking up from his crown. He would hoard the food and chase away the others. It’s a grumpy little duck, but Jay remembers one time when he had been running in the rain through the park, “Chansung” made the group huddle under a man-made cave. Jay had slowed down as the duck waddled into another section and came out with a long stick of bread. He had continued running, but with a grin on his face this time.
“Junsu” is the brightly colored rooster, hues of dye running into each other. “Junsu” is the one that struts around with the other roosters, but he trips on rocks and squawks loudly. It’s amusing, but Jay frowns when “Junsu” plucks out his feathers.
“Nichkhun” is the king of the Canadian geese. The Canadian king, Jay thinks and giggles to himself. “Nichkhun” leads the other geese and Jay once took a camera to the park just to admire the goose through lens.
“Junho”, the fleeting spotted rabbit, hops around. Jay doesn’t see much of him, but when he does, he feels like he’s captured a rare prize.
He calls the little snarky duckling “Wooyoung” because he pushes the rabbit and jumps all over “Chansung”. It’s endearing in a way that makes his heart ache.
“Taecyeon” is the turtle in the pond. He doesn’t know why, but “Taecyeon” reminds him of the real Taecyeon.
He starts to name animals after people in real life. “Jehan” is a little duckling and “Yoon” becomes the biggest orange-white fish in the pond.
“Lee Seunghyun” is the little pigeon that always stays on the twelfth branch of the tallest tree. Sometimes, he flies down to nibble at the bread crumbs that Jay breaks off from his sandwich, but he is usually chased out by the other pigeons. However, whenever the other pigeons fly away and it’s only that little pigeon scratching mournfully at the ground, Jay tosses the last bits of his food.
One day, he goes to the park and doesn’t see “Lee Seunghyun” on the branch. Jay edges closer to the tree until he sees the mangled body of a little bird, feathers and red mingling together.
It’s like a wake-up call. He’s going crazy. He’s got to stop this.
Jay stays away from the park.
“What’s up?” Yoon asks as he slides next to Jay.
“I don’t know where I’m going in my life,” Jay confesses. “It’s... hard.”
Yoon smiles softly and knocks his hand against Jay’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” he advises. “Finding out is half the fun. You know what I think you should do?”
“What?”
“Go back to dancing and singing like the old times, yeah?”
Jay shakes his head. “It’s too soon.”
Yoon shrugs. “It’s just a suggestion. Don’t worry too much about it. Go back to doing what you love to do. You’ve been in touch with the boys in AOM, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Go back and have some fun.”
“I do already.”
“That’s good then.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
-----
The first time he sees Yoon after the incident, it is in the airport and they all wave to him, family and friend. He waves back, a little beating heart crying as it shakes itself apart.
“Hey,” says Yoon.
“Hey yourself,” Jay answers and there are little tears knocking on his lids, asking to be let out.
“How’re you holding up?” Yoon asks seriously.
“All right.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Jay thinks back to when he is grabbed by the shoulders and shoved down in front of a computer. Taecyeon, with barely hidden uneasiness, clicking on a site. The dorm is silent as he reads and Taecyeon stumbles over some translations for him. He looks through the site and then leans back in the chair.
The human aspect of him comes to life.
“They want me to die,” he whispers in shock as he turns his head. No one in the dorm makes a sound and the clock ticks.
Here, it’s soft, comforting words and concerned eyes.
Yoon punches him on the shoulder lightly. “Man, you’re here now. It’s all right.”
-----
The first time Seungri sees the post, he frowns. The Jaebum that he knows is a sweet older kid, a bit lost, but he scowls at the words.
That’s not nice, he thinks and feels himself getting angry. I’ll just ask him the next time I see him. He closes the window and opens the one to BIGBANG’s homepage.
He never sees Jaebum again.
-----
“No, no, you have to do this, you see?” he says as he demonstrates. The kid nods seriously. “Yeah, you were a little off here, so maybe that’s why it didn’t work out. Want to try again?”
Seungri nods and tries again.
-----
A/N: It’s supposed to be backwardish: end, beginning, middle. I think I ruined it though. Damn it.