Jar of Hearts
Jar of Hearts
A GRi one shot
In which Seungri wonders who Jiyong thinks he is, collecting jar of hearts
ONE.
Seungri is 12 when his mother gives him a pretty little blue jar with silver detailing to keep his heart in. Seungri marvels at the intricate designs and holds the little blue jar with his even littler heart in it with such painful care that his mother could not bear to look at her son. Seungri knows and he feels sorry that his mother’s jar was empty. He’s seen it before, a ruby red jar slightly bigger than his and the glittering dusts that’s left in the jar.
All that’s left of his mother’s heart.
So Seungri promises- he promises himself and his mother that his heart shall be kept whole, unmarred, unbroken, forever growing and never crumbling into dust like the poor woman’s. He said so to his mother and could not for the life of him understand why she smiles that smile that is a little rough at the edge and cuts like a papercut.
TWO.
Seungri is 14 when he meets Jiyong in somewhere between the night and the day, that special twilight moment when the city is all light and glitter and the sky all soft in colors. For reasons that completely escapes him Seungri ends up on the rooftop of the neighborhood youth center, staring at a blond boy who is staring at the city lights with a cigarette held loose between his fingers, scarf caught in the wind and feet a few inches off the ledge.
It’s strange.
It’s very strange as he wonders at how the world is suddenly empty and hollow without sound, without feelings, without warmth, but with mists covering the ground, raising out of nowhere and engulfing everything in its wet cold grasps. It’s like the life is sucked out of the world and the only thing warm -the only thing alive- is that blond boy who doesn’t seem to want to live at all. It’s as if all the light in the world radiated from the boy who has his back turned to Seungri and who’s getting closer and closer to being splattered on the dirty pavements way, way down.
In Seungri’s humble opinion, it’s an awful way to die for someone that radiates heaven and life. So it’s perfectly natural for him to run and grab the leather jacket attached to the blond boy right before he takes that last step off the ledge.
As Seungri lie on the floor of the rooftop with a furious blond punching his face in, he could have sworn his little heart in his little blue jar in his chest grew one size bigger.
THREE.
“I lost mine.”
Seungri nods sympathetically as he fiddles with the strings of his hoodie, eyes soft and a clear view of his soul. Jiyong chuckles as he took a long drag from cigarette number-who-the-hell’s-counting-anyway with his free hand massaging his hollow chest. There was only a faint glow where a brilliant shine should be and Seungri really really want to fix that as the steady thump-thump of his heart glowed in the little blue jar.
“I was young and I was stupid,” Jiyong continued, his face scrunched up in disgust. “Should’ve known I’d have lost it.”
“You could get it back if you want to, you know.” Seungri shrug as he watches the cars speed by. The two boys had their legs dangling through the stone bars of the fly over with cars passing by below and behind them, their head lights casting yellows and reds all over.
“I know.” Is the simple reply. “But I don’t want it back. Never got any good out of it, only that fucking stabbing in my chest.”
“Well…” the younger boy hesitates as he let his frozen fingers trace the back of Jiyong’s hand, his eyes following the trail of smoke from the glowing cigarette. “The stabbing lets you know you’re alive.”
“Then I rather be dead.”
But you’re more alive than anyone of us here, Jiyong. You can’t mean that. He wanted so bad to say it, but the words just wouldn’t come out. So instead Seungri -kind, sweet, loving Seungri- kisses Jiyong’s temple and keeps watching the cars below.
He could practically feel his little blue jar in his chest quiver as his heart grew another size bigger.
FOUR.
Seungri is 16 when Jiyong talk him into going for an audition for an entertainment company he hadn’t even bothered to learn the name. His blond friend spent hours and hours whining and begging Seungri to tryout as he dance to the beat from the radio, eyes intent on the mirror where each movements are reflected. Seungri is bad at saying no to Jiyong to begin with, so it doesn’t come as a surprise when he finds himself standing in the middle of a room of mirrors and judged.
Seungri could feel the tiniest growth his heart makes when Jiyong hug him tightly, congratulations pouring from his pretty mouth. Chest to chest, the young boy convinces himself that yes Jiyong’s heart is back and yes it’ll be his someday and god yes his own heart is going to replace Jiyong’s on the same day. And when he closes his eyes he sees a world of colors instead of a world of dull monochrome where everything is dead and soulless.
“Jiyong?”
Then the world of color somehow corrodes as Seungri is gently gently pushed off Jiyong as another boy catches his butterfly’s attention. Jiyong’s eyes widen prettily as his cheeks flush, hands already outstretched to touch the other boy.
Oh, that must be him.
He sees a hint of golden on Jiyong’s chest and feels his own flickered slightly.
FIVE.
Seungri thinks that god is playing with him when he learns that the boy’s name is Seunghyun; the name that his mother used to call him. Seungri is sure that the universe is playing with him when the three of them are put together in the same class for everything with two other trainees.
Seunghyun is nice, talented, kind, awkward, and frustratingly good looking. Seungri could not -for the life of him- find any faults in the older boy, nor could he find the will in his one-size-smaller heart to wish ill upon him. He sees the way his hyung ignites the light within Jiyong’s eyes when all he could ever do the past 2 years was to only make them reflect the light in his own eyes.
Crack
“Seungri-yah?”
Warm fingers caress his face and he hums low, eyes closed and jar cracking.
“Are you alright?” his hair is swept to the side as a palm rests on top of his forehead. “You’re not getting a fever, are you?”
Seungri shakes his head and opens his eyes. He sees Jiyong with a worried frown, hands cradling his head and waist held securely by Seunghyun.
He smiles and watches as the shine slowly returns to Jiyong’s chest.
SIX.
Jiyong could be cruel to him, Seungri knows. He remembers the cutting remarks (but Jiyong was tired), he remembers the sometimes hard punches (play-fighting, really) he remembers waiting for hours in the cold (Jiyong’s not good with time) and he remembers being ignored (Jiyong just didn’t see him there, honestly).
But try as he might, he can never find an excuse as to why Jiyong is kissing Seunghyun when he knows that he’s the one who takes, who steals, who snatches, who fucking ruins people’s lives and leaves their jar empty. He swallows and grin, his hands arranged in a thumbs up and tries not to vomit when his hyungs smile shyly when they (finally) notices him.
Crack
Crack
Crack
The golden shine from Jiyong’s chest is blinding to Seungri’s eyes and he thinks he can feel sharp edges digging into his heart.
SEVEN.
They debut in a flurry of colors, sweat, tears, laughter and a hefty amount of booze to calm the nerve. The stage is bright with lights from the high heavens and the fans are screaming, crying, adoring as they stands side by side on the stage. He stands between Youngbae and Daesung, his hands in theirs and identical grin mirrors on each of their faces.
Beside Youngbae is Jiyong with his arms around Seunghyun’s waist and Seunghyun’s arms around his shoulders in a mockery of a friendly hug. His eyes are close, his grin is wide and his heart is visible for all to see in its golden glory, packed prettily in its yellow jar with glitters and a tag that says Seunghyun.
CRACK
Seungri utters a small ‘oh’ as the sharp edges of his blue jar digs deep in his heart, making it bleed and dims. He imagines the screaming is for him, for the horror of his own jar piercing his heart when it is suppose to protect the organ. He imagines Jiyong looking at him with eyes wide and guilt ridden as his heart gives way.
He realizes there’s more than one way for a heart to die than to crumble into dust and he wonders what his mother would say. Little bits of blue glass litters the stage amidst the chaos and the heart is gone.
