Gravity, Chapter One
Fandom: UKISS
Rating: PG (R overall)
Pairing: JaeVin, ElVin (mentioned)
Chapter: 1/9
Word Count: 4,976
Summary: Kevin Woo has resigned. AJ is left with the knowledge that he was not alone in his feelings for the other man and it nearly destroys him. Taking a chance, he follows Kevin to San Francisco in order to try and reclaim the only thing that has ever meant anything to him.
When the world keeps spinning around you even though it feels as though it has ended, it's all too easy to realize how insignificant you really area. My heart is beating. Supposedly that means I'm alive, but it doesn't feel that way. I am moving without purpose or direction. As far as I'm concerned, my life ended three and a half month ago, the same day that Kevin Woo finalized his resignation.
Since then, all that I've been able to do is keep moving. Moving, and trying no to think about the only thing that has ever really mattered to me.
---
The toothpaste goes on the toothbrush. Spit, rinse. Shower. Dry myself off. Get dressed.
This is my morning. This is every morning and it's all I can do just to make it happen. Everything is mechanical, something to do that has to be done. I don't really feel any of it anymore. There's no reason for me to. I haven't felt anything for months.
Four minutes and twenty-nine seconds. That's exactly how long it takes me to fold a spare change of clothes and some bathing necessities into my duffel bag, stored away so that I won't have to bother with returning home in between schedules.
Days are busy now. I like that. It means that there's no time to think or feel. No time to react. Mornings are choreography, relearning all the dances that we already know. It's tough because they've been cut down from seven person routines to six person routines. The change is more marked than you might think, making for a lot of hard work for all of us. The steps are similar or the same, and yet they're completely different. It's good. The work gives me something to focus on. Vocals are the same, taking up most of the afternoon. We've all got to pick up the slack now that he's gone.
Every day is the same. I mean, a few little details change here and there, but nothing major. They told me that it would get better. It hasn't, whatever 'it' is. I guess they were kind of right. I don't really feel sad, or down, or depressed anymore. Not the way that I used to, at least.
It's not like I'm crying myself to sleep at night or anything. Instead, I just feel hollow, like nothing's there. Hollow is better than feeling full of broken glass. That's how it was for the first few days. Maybe a week or two. I still feel that way sometimes. It all depends on how often someone slips and mentions him while I'm around, or when they all fall silent when I walk in a room. I'm not stupid. The entire situation is pathetic and I know it. I'm just not sure whether that word applies to them or me anymore.
The drive to work provides the last few minutes of solace that I'll get to enjoy for the day. Once I arrive, I can look forward to judgmental looks, forced conversation and endless reminders that I am a problem.
Before, when we were still a seven person group, they had us practicing our choreography in one building and our vocals in a studio across town. Now, for whatever reason, they both happen in the same building. I'm guessing budget cuts are at fault, which doesn't bode well for us. The new building is just this side of shabby and it's not up to par with what we're used to.
Nobody mentions the quality of the studio as I walk in and drop my bag on the floor. I can't be bothered to haul it to the locker room. There's no point in expending the energy. I'd rather use it to ignore the way the others look at me, quietly judging me with their stares. While a couple of them will talk to me outside of work, everything is different when our friends are involved.
"Jaeseop. Hey."
A quiet voice kills my plans of ignoring everyone. Looking up, I can see that Kiseop isn't really sure of exactly what to say. He's still saying more than the rest of them, at least right now. Once upon a time, that would have meant something to me. Now, it's just another fact that I file away for future reference.
"Hi," I reply. "What's up?"
He shifts his weight onto the other foot as I look at him. I think I make him nervous. "How are you doing?"
The question is simple enough, but I don't really want to answer. I can't even seem to meet his eyes. "Fine. I'm fine."
The words sound flat even to me. The lack of emotion doesn't seem to matter. Kiseop doesn't really want to talk. Even so, I guess I shouldn't be so chilly. At least he goes out of his way to say hi to me. Most of the others, they cut me a wide berth unless it's something business related. Eli and I hang out after work sometimes. Soohyun kind of tries, every once and a while. I appreciate it, but I can't bring myself to return the effort.
I wish I could convince myself that they give a damn, but I can't. They aren't really worried for me. They're worried about me, waiting for when I finally break down. Right now, I'm at least able to maintain myself at a bare minimum of care. I'm not healthy or happy, but I can work. I haven't been at the top of my game, not for months. Maybe for a while before that, even. When one of us is weak, it becomes an issue for all of us.
Right now, I am that issue. They don't care why. They don't have to. They already know the reasons that I have become this shell of a person. I don't have to hear their quiet conversations to know that they think I'm weak, unstable. I can't think poorly of them for it. None of them have ever been in my position. They don't know what this feels like. Maybe if they did, they'd cut me some slack.
"Okay..."
Kiseop hovers, but even he can't think of some way to extend our nonexistent conversation. Failing to find words, he turns away easily. He rejoins the others at a distance that will keep him safe from my negativity.
The problems that I have don't affect us when we practice. When we're working on relearning our routines, it's as a group. That's the closest I come to feeling normal now. We've got four weeks to go until the first performance that we have to know all of the dances for. That means a lot of hard work for all of us. Even though we're just relearning a routine that used to have an extra person, it's surprisingly confusing. Injuries were frequent for the first few days. Things are moving a little more smoothly now, but we're not graceful or even competent yet.
Competence has little to do with the thoughts running through my mind as we move. I'll be honest, I'm not the best dancer in the group by a long shot. I've screwed up more than once, even during stage performances and filming for videos. Right now, though, I am at the top of my game. The others are struggling, but I'm not. Every move is as close to perfect as I can make it. I know these dances better than I know the back of my hands.
That's a first for me. Knowing our routines so well, I mean. Once upon a time, I had been too distracted to pay attention, even when I was supposed to be doing the choreography. I was always too busy. Too busy watching him, or the others, or just being high on life. Now, work is my distraction, one that I indulge in whenever I have the chance. When I don't want to think, I can lose myself in the sweat that rolls down my back and the thin streams of music pulsing from the weak speakers of our boombox. Counting each beat gives me something else to focus on even if only for a little while.
Day after day, nothing changes. When we're done with practice, exhausted and filthy, I know what comes next. It's time for my expected lecture from our beloved leader. I know Soohyun means well, but I still feel a lump in my throat as Soohyun approaches. He places his hand on my arm and nods at the others as he leads me out into the hall. I don't know why he bothers. He's done this since the beginning. At least twice every week. Sometimes three times, if I'm really a mess and can't make him think I'm holding myself together.
When he begins to talk, it's more like a script than heartfelt concern. I already know what he's going to say. "You can't keep doing this, Jaeseop." His voice is soft, quiet, like he's afraid someone will overhear. There's nobody out here but us. None of the others give a damn. "We're all worried about you. We want to help, if you'll let us. You can always talk to one of us, you know. Me, or Eli, or Kiseop. Even Dongho or Hoon. They're just as worried about you as I am.
Bullshit. "I know."
"Have you considered trying that medication your doctor suggested?" He pats my shoulder and I'm still regretting mentioning it. Antidepressant number three. The first two were a bust. One made me feel like a robot. The other didn't do a damn thing. He knows that, and he also knows that I won't try again. He doesn't care. "They put me on that same stuff a couple of years ago. It really helped me. Maybe it'd work for you, too."
"I don't want to give it a try, Soohyun." The words are harsher than I intended, but I am very tired of hearing this. Especially from him. I shouldn't be angry, but I am. "I've tried everything they've suggested. Therapy. Medication. Working harder. Just 'moving on.' It doesn't work. It doesn't help. Nothing does."
"Nothing's going to help if you don't want it to," Soohyun tells me, his voice hard and soft all at once. "You're a mess, Jaeseop. Have you even shaved this week? We've got an interview later. If the manager saw you like this--"
"Let him see," I say, heaving a sigh. I can't take anymore of this. Not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, I turn away. "I don't need this right now. Look, don't worry about the interview. I'll be presentable for it, whatever. Just leave me be."
"Stop." Soohyun steps in my path as I walk away. He's not as tall as I am, but he seems to tower over me right now. I can't move past him. I respect him. Even when I'm being reckless and irritable, there's still a part of me that wants to listen to him.
Quietly, I ask, "What do you want?"
"You can't keep doing this."
What right does he have to tell me what I can and can't do? Every nerve in my body tells me to just tell him off, push past him and leave. I can't. I know that I can't. Swallowing down everything I don't want to feel, I try to turn it into a question. "What, exactly, is 'this'?"
"Nothing." Soohyun sounds like he's carrying the weight of the words on his shoulders as he meets my eyes, lips turned down in a frown. "You're doing nothing, Jaeseop, and it's killing you."
I don't hang out with the others after work. If they go to clubs, or noraebang or whatever, I duck out. Usually, I don't even have to come up with an excuse. They just don't ask anymore. Even if they did, most of them already know there are only two places I wind up. Usually, it's home. My family doesn't ask too many questions. I think they don't want to know why I'm such a mess. They probably suspect. Let them. They'll figure it out sooner or later.
Sometimes, however, I wind up here. Standing in front of Eli's door. This doesn't happen constantly, or even often. We used to be inseparable, but our friendship is dying. Just like me. And just as willfully. It's not as though either of us has done anything to save it, and that's fine.
The door opens. Eli doesn't even ask why I'm there. He just lets me in, grabs a couple of beers from the fridge and shoves one in my general direction. We both sit on the couch, ignoring the television that's playing in the background. All I'm thinking about is the bitter taste of the alcohol and the drone of Eli's voice as he tells me about some girl he met at a party last night. Or maybe he's talking about something his Dad said. I have no clue. I'm not paying attention.
I hate alcohol. Didn't used to mind it. Actually, I used to drink my share. Had way too much of something strong one night and got sick enough to leave a lasting memory. Now I can't really stand it, but I'm still here drinking a beer. Eli, he likes to party. Since I started drinking again, he's actually cut back. I'd probably find that funny if it wasn't kind of sad.
"I need another," Eli tells me. It's the first clear thing he's said that I've actually managed to make out. Getting to his feet, he shuffles into the kitchen. He opens his fridge and looks disappointed at whatever he doesn't see inside. "You know, I'm kind of hungry. Let's go grab something to eat."
I don't think I've eaten at all today. Haven't really thought about it. "Sure."
"What are you in the mood for?" He's asking, but he keeps looking in the fridge as though a pizza is going to materialize or something.
"Anything. Whatever you want."
He smiles, sort of. It lights his face halfway before he shrugs. "I'm kind of bored. Maybe we should go grab something to eat and then hit a club. Might be fun."
Fun? Yeah, I know the word. He's wanting to go get lost in the music, and the people, the alcohol and God knows what else. He used to call it winding down after work. Considering how wound up we'd get, that's a laugh. We were reckless, but it was a blast. That was then. This is now. The thought of a sweaty room with too-loud music, the smell of cigarettes and the high chance of walking out of there with little recollection of what we did has no appeal to me at the moment.
"I'm really not up for that tonight," I tell him evenly. "You want to, go ahead."
Eli turns away from the kitchen, hovering in the doorway. "Come on, man. It's been too damn long. We could have a really great night. We still can. It's early, there's time--"
"Not interested."
Walking out into the living room, he's already fishing for a different shirt to wear out. "It'll be a riot. We can even find someone to help you out. Maybe some girl for the night or--"
"I said not interested," I repeat, a little more firmly. The very idea of what he's talking about makes me sick. Sure, I've done that before. Who hasn't? That's not me anymore. That hasn't been me for a long time.
"AJ, for fuck's sake, you can't keep moping forever." He's tired of my attitude. Everybody is. Doesn't matter. "Move on."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." I crush the empty beer can with my hand, looking anywhere but at him.
"Bullshit," Eli replies. He's not being friendly or warm now. He's getting pissed off, too. "I know better than you think."
Looking up at him, all the anger that I felt with Soohyun returns, doubled. Not thinking, I spit out the first thing that comes to mind. "Yeah, you would."
The second that the words leave my mouth, they're replaced by the bitter taste of regret. No matter what, Eli and I are friends. And he's right. He's the only one out of all of them that really gets what's going on with me. The others might worry about me or feel sorry for me, but Eli knows what it's like to miss someone. This someone in particular. Maybe he never had it as bad as I did, but it's still something we have in common. We never let that come between us, not while he was here. It's strange that he can do so much more damage now that he's gone.
"Sorry." It's all I can say now. I'm still not sure I mean it.
He feels the same as I do, at least. It shows in his words. "It's okay."
"Have you heard from him?" I ask quietly, unable to help himself.
It's his turn to sigh. He was expecting the question. Maybe he was even waiting for it. "Same answer as the last time you asked. I haven't heard from him in, what, two weeks? Maybe three. Something like that. He doesn't really talk to me anymore."
He doesn't really talk to any of us anymore. But Eli, at least he gets messages. If he texts Kevin, he'll get a response. If he calls, Kevin will answer. That's more than can be said for me. My calls go unanswered, my texts unreturned. Nothing I do matters to him. That thought burns more than all of the past weeks combined. He has cut me out of his life as though I never existed, and yet my life still revolves around him. I've tried. I just can't seem to get past that.
Swallowing the pain down, I close my eyes. "But he's okay, right? He's doing good?"
"He's fine," Eli sighs again, slumping back down on the couch beside me. "He's... he's got a life out there. He's happy, I think. Busy. That much I know. He's real busy now. Got a job, new place. He's... things are different over there."
"Good." I wish I could mean it. I really do. "I'm glad."
Eli falls silent. Taking a deep breath, he starts talking again, the words surprisingly hesitant. I get the feeling that it's been building for a while. "AJ, I'm... trying to understand. Really trying. I know that he..." He pauses, collecting his words before starting again. "I know you're going through hell. You're... you're hurting, and I get that. But there's not shit you can do about it. There's not shit I can do about it either, and I've been trying. It's... it's time to give up. Really. You can't b--"
"Eli," I say, a warning in my voice.
"Just let me finish. We aren't a part of his life anymore." His voice is stronger now than I've heard it in a while. He gets to his feet, unable to keep going while he's still seated. "Not... the way we used to be. Not at all, really. Be happy... that he's happy. Let that be enough and get on with enjoying your life."
When he finishes, he's wringing one hand in the other. He paces back towards the kitchen, not meeting my eyes. Speeches really aren't his thing, less so when he's got some alcohol in him, though I doubt he's even buzzed.
Looking away from him, I bite back all of the bitter commentary I want to give in response. "You don't get it."
"You're right," he replies, "I don't. You tell me you love him. Hell, anybody can see it. But I can't figure out why, if it's true, you can't just... let him go. He's where he wants to be."
"I've tried."
"What?" Eli has turned away, returning to the fridge for a fresh supply of beer.
Clearing my throat, I say again, "I've tried. To get over him, move on, whatever you want to call it. It's just not that simple."
Walking back into the living room, Eli hands me another beer and then onto the couch again. He pops the top on his own can. "Why? It's not like... AJ, you never even... He never even gave you a chance."
The tone of his words is rough, all of his previous cool gone. He's not trying to offend me, even though the words rub me the wrong way. I wish he could understand, even a fraction of it. Maybe I can explain, maybe I can't. I can at least try.
"Have you ever had someone that makes the whole world look different for you?" I ask him, turning to see his reaction. "It's like the sky is bluer, the food tastes better and things just feel better. All that just because they're around you."
"No." To his credit, he doesn't snort or laugh at the cheesy description. "Truthfully, kind of hope I never do. If something like that wrecks you this bad, I don't want to know what it'd do to me. Sounds scary as hell."
"You have no idea." I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to explain. "It's... it's like gravity. Every time I try to pull myself away from him, I just keep coming right back. No matter how hard I try to escape, I just can't get away from him."
We both fall silent, focusing on the bitter drinks we're imbibing. I wish it was at least good beer, but he got the cheap stuff. I'll bet he was more concerned with his Red Bull. We both know we won't make it out of the apartment. No clubs for us tonight. If there's food, it'll be delivery. Tonight's another night lost to my problem. This time, I'm dragging Eli down with me.
Tilting his can back, he drains the last of his fresh can. "You need help, AJ."
"I know," I breathe. I really do know. "It's ridiculous, but I can't move past it. Not after what happened."
Eli freezes in the middle of setting his can down. He wasn't expecting that particular reply. His response sounds falsely casual. "You said he didn't even tell you when he was leaving, didn't even say good bye. What really happened?"
He's right. Kevin really didn't tell me good bye. Not like he did with the others, at least. He didn't even tell me what time his flight was leaving so I could see him off. Ours was more private, something that I haven't told anyone about. My secret. His secret. Now, I think that maybe it's time to tell someone.
"The night before he left, Kevin asked me to meet him out in front of his house. I didn't go in. We just sat outside and talked," I begin. I can hear my voice shaking. I don't know if it's the alcohol or my emotions making me tremble. "For hours. You have no idea. And he... he told me that he felt something. For me. He said he... He said that it wasn't just me. But it didn't mean anything, he said, because he wouldn't act on it. He said it would ruin him if he did. His... future. His image. He.. he couldn't let us... be anything and..."
I can't finish my sentence. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Eli is staring at me, his eyes wide and round. He has no idea how to respond. That was probably the very last thing he ever expected to hear. I don't know what I want him to say. Words of comfort? Some sort of encouragement. Neither happens.
"He's gone," Eli tells me finally. "He cut you off."
"He did."
Leaning against the back of his couch, Eli lets out a sigh. "What's the problem, then?"
"Because for the longest time, I thought it was just me." There, another admission. "I thought I was crazy, and I thought he couldn't possibly feel the same way and... he did. He did. He felt it, too. He's everything to me, Eli. Everything, and we were so close to... to..."
So close to nothing, and I know it. Another unfinished sentence.
I don't like the look in Eli's eyes right now. It's not like the others. He doesn't think I'm crazy or a lost cause. He pities me. He wants to tell me that I'm wrong, or that I shouldn't feel that way or that I'm fill of shit. I wish he would.
Instead, he simply says, "I'm sorry, but he's gone. We lost him, AJ. We lost him."
Gone. For me, it means a lot more than just the absence of Kevin's presence from my life. There's a hole there that can't be filled, not by all the 'could have beens' and 'not a chances' in the world. Kevin had walked away from me. From all of us, really. I'll never understand how he managed it, but he did.
It's funny. There's so much about that night that I didn't tell Eli. So much he can't know. He wasn't there. He didn't see the way Kevin looked at me, the way he pulled me out of the view of the lights around the front of the house so he could lean closer while he talked to me. His voice was shaking, you know, while he told me. He was afraid, even though it wasn't like he was expecting a rejection or anything like that. The only thing he was expecting was closure. He got it. I didn't.
For some reason, Kevin's ability to just drop everything and leave is all I can think about as I walk to my car. My mind keeps replaying the last conversation I had with Kevin, overlaid with all of the times everyone has told me to just move on. How is it that he could just buy his way into a new life, and yet I can't seem to do anything with the one I already have? None of it makes any sense to me.
I wish I was drunk. Then, at least, I could pass these thoughts off as alcohol-fueled wonderings born from intoxication and depression. I'm not. I'm not even buzzed. I'm stone cold sober and tonight is the first night in almost a week that I've wished I was anything but that. I don't like feeling things this strongly, this clearly.
The others are right about one thing; I'm not accomplishing anything by this not-living day in and day out. I'm going nowhere because my life has moved on without me, doing something entirely different on the other side of the world. I doubt he even thinks about me anymore.
Starting my car, I drive away from Eli's apartment. It's insanely late. Probably early, actually, but it's not like I was watching the time. I'm trying to take Eli's words at face value, but something about this entire situation just feels wrong to me. Completely wrong. It's like a piece of me is missing.
As the words run through my mind, the breath catches in my chest. Hitting the brakes harder than I should, I let up enough to ease into an empty parking lot and shut the engine off. Clear as day, the solution presents itself. If something is missing, you're supposed to find it. Something of mine is missing, and I'm never going to feel right until I find out what could have been if that piece was still in place. Even if nothing comes of it, I have to know.
What I'm thinking is madness. I'm fully aware of it. But it's doing something rather than doing nothing. Definitely madness. If I go through with this, there's a very high chance that it could cost me everything. Everything. What I want to do could cost me my job, my friends, any hope of a career. And there's not a doubt in my mind that it is worth every ounce of trouble that I already know it will bring. Just the thought of doing this fills me with something I haven't felt in ages: determination.
Pulling the phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovers over the screen. I want to call, but I know it's late. Very late. A little too late, all truth be told. Plus, Soohyun's the one I need to get a hold of. If I do call and he answers, he's probably going to try to talk me out of this. He cares about me. All the bullshitting in the world can't convince me otherwise. He's been trying to help me out, no matter how much I'd like to say otherwise. I appreciate it. Really. Right now, though, I think I need to do this and help myself for once.
Nixing the phone call, I turn it into a text instead. I stick to the basics. I'll be back in two weeks. No longer than that, no matter what happens. He can tell the company that I needed a break. At this point, I doubt they'd argue. If they do, I guess I'll just come back to no job. I'll deal with that when, and if, it happens. Right now, I've got other things to worry about.
Those things start popping up in my mind as I send the text and start the car. With my decision made, I feel an immense wave of relief washing over me. This is what I've needed all this time. This is right. First, however, I need to get home. I've got some packing to take care of. I'll eave on the next flight I can catch. I'm going to San Francisco, and I'll find Kevin if it's the last thing I do.
Rating: PG (R overall)
Pairing: JaeVin, ElVin (mentioned)
Chapter: 1/9
Word Count: 4,976
Summary: Kevin Woo has resigned. AJ is left with the knowledge that he was not alone in his feelings for the other man and it nearly destroys him. Taking a chance, he follows Kevin to San Francisco in order to try and reclaim the only thing that has ever meant anything to him.
When the world keeps spinning around you even though it feels as though it has ended, it's all too easy to realize how insignificant you really area. My heart is beating. Supposedly that means I'm alive, but it doesn't feel that way. I am moving without purpose or direction. As far as I'm concerned, my life ended three and a half month ago, the same day that Kevin Woo finalized his resignation.
Since then, all that I've been able to do is keep moving. Moving, and trying no to think about the only thing that has ever really mattered to me.
---
The toothpaste goes on the toothbrush. Spit, rinse. Shower. Dry myself off. Get dressed.
This is my morning. This is every morning and it's all I can do just to make it happen. Everything is mechanical, something to do that has to be done. I don't really feel any of it anymore. There's no reason for me to. I haven't felt anything for months.
Four minutes and twenty-nine seconds. That's exactly how long it takes me to fold a spare change of clothes and some bathing necessities into my duffel bag, stored away so that I won't have to bother with returning home in between schedules.
Days are busy now. I like that. It means that there's no time to think or feel. No time to react. Mornings are choreography, relearning all the dances that we already know. It's tough because they've been cut down from seven person routines to six person routines. The change is more marked than you might think, making for a lot of hard work for all of us. The steps are similar or the same, and yet they're completely different. It's good. The work gives me something to focus on. Vocals are the same, taking up most of the afternoon. We've all got to pick up the slack now that he's gone.
Every day is the same. I mean, a few little details change here and there, but nothing major. They told me that it would get better. It hasn't, whatever 'it' is. I guess they were kind of right. I don't really feel sad, or down, or depressed anymore. Not the way that I used to, at least.
It's not like I'm crying myself to sleep at night or anything. Instead, I just feel hollow, like nothing's there. Hollow is better than feeling full of broken glass. That's how it was for the first few days. Maybe a week or two. I still feel that way sometimes. It all depends on how often someone slips and mentions him while I'm around, or when they all fall silent when I walk in a room. I'm not stupid. The entire situation is pathetic and I know it. I'm just not sure whether that word applies to them or me anymore.
The drive to work provides the last few minutes of solace that I'll get to enjoy for the day. Once I arrive, I can look forward to judgmental looks, forced conversation and endless reminders that I am a problem.
Before, when we were still a seven person group, they had us practicing our choreography in one building and our vocals in a studio across town. Now, for whatever reason, they both happen in the same building. I'm guessing budget cuts are at fault, which doesn't bode well for us. The new building is just this side of shabby and it's not up to par with what we're used to.
Nobody mentions the quality of the studio as I walk in and drop my bag on the floor. I can't be bothered to haul it to the locker room. There's no point in expending the energy. I'd rather use it to ignore the way the others look at me, quietly judging me with their stares. While a couple of them will talk to me outside of work, everything is different when our friends are involved.
"Jaeseop. Hey."
A quiet voice kills my plans of ignoring everyone. Looking up, I can see that Kiseop isn't really sure of exactly what to say. He's still saying more than the rest of them, at least right now. Once upon a time, that would have meant something to me. Now, it's just another fact that I file away for future reference.
"Hi," I reply. "What's up?"
He shifts his weight onto the other foot as I look at him. I think I make him nervous. "How are you doing?"
The question is simple enough, but I don't really want to answer. I can't even seem to meet his eyes. "Fine. I'm fine."
The words sound flat even to me. The lack of emotion doesn't seem to matter. Kiseop doesn't really want to talk. Even so, I guess I shouldn't be so chilly. At least he goes out of his way to say hi to me. Most of the others, they cut me a wide berth unless it's something business related. Eli and I hang out after work sometimes. Soohyun kind of tries, every once and a while. I appreciate it, but I can't bring myself to return the effort.
I wish I could convince myself that they give a damn, but I can't. They aren't really worried for me. They're worried about me, waiting for when I finally break down. Right now, I'm at least able to maintain myself at a bare minimum of care. I'm not healthy or happy, but I can work. I haven't been at the top of my game, not for months. Maybe for a while before that, even. When one of us is weak, it becomes an issue for all of us.
Right now, I am that issue. They don't care why. They don't have to. They already know the reasons that I have become this shell of a person. I don't have to hear their quiet conversations to know that they think I'm weak, unstable. I can't think poorly of them for it. None of them have ever been in my position. They don't know what this feels like. Maybe if they did, they'd cut me some slack.
"Okay..."
Kiseop hovers, but even he can't think of some way to extend our nonexistent conversation. Failing to find words, he turns away easily. He rejoins the others at a distance that will keep him safe from my negativity.
The problems that I have don't affect us when we practice. When we're working on relearning our routines, it's as a group. That's the closest I come to feeling normal now. We've got four weeks to go until the first performance that we have to know all of the dances for. That means a lot of hard work for all of us. Even though we're just relearning a routine that used to have an extra person, it's surprisingly confusing. Injuries were frequent for the first few days. Things are moving a little more smoothly now, but we're not graceful or even competent yet.
Competence has little to do with the thoughts running through my mind as we move. I'll be honest, I'm not the best dancer in the group by a long shot. I've screwed up more than once, even during stage performances and filming for videos. Right now, though, I am at the top of my game. The others are struggling, but I'm not. Every move is as close to perfect as I can make it. I know these dances better than I know the back of my hands.
That's a first for me. Knowing our routines so well, I mean. Once upon a time, I had been too distracted to pay attention, even when I was supposed to be doing the choreography. I was always too busy. Too busy watching him, or the others, or just being high on life. Now, work is my distraction, one that I indulge in whenever I have the chance. When I don't want to think, I can lose myself in the sweat that rolls down my back and the thin streams of music pulsing from the weak speakers of our boombox. Counting each beat gives me something else to focus on even if only for a little while.
Day after day, nothing changes. When we're done with practice, exhausted and filthy, I know what comes next. It's time for my expected lecture from our beloved leader. I know Soohyun means well, but I still feel a lump in my throat as Soohyun approaches. He places his hand on my arm and nods at the others as he leads me out into the hall. I don't know why he bothers. He's done this since the beginning. At least twice every week. Sometimes three times, if I'm really a mess and can't make him think I'm holding myself together.
When he begins to talk, it's more like a script than heartfelt concern. I already know what he's going to say. "You can't keep doing this, Jaeseop." His voice is soft, quiet, like he's afraid someone will overhear. There's nobody out here but us. None of the others give a damn. "We're all worried about you. We want to help, if you'll let us. You can always talk to one of us, you know. Me, or Eli, or Kiseop. Even Dongho or Hoon. They're just as worried about you as I am.
Bullshit. "I know."
"Have you considered trying that medication your doctor suggested?" He pats my shoulder and I'm still regretting mentioning it. Antidepressant number three. The first two were a bust. One made me feel like a robot. The other didn't do a damn thing. He knows that, and he also knows that I won't try again. He doesn't care. "They put me on that same stuff a couple of years ago. It really helped me. Maybe it'd work for you, too."
"I don't want to give it a try, Soohyun." The words are harsher than I intended, but I am very tired of hearing this. Especially from him. I shouldn't be angry, but I am. "I've tried everything they've suggested. Therapy. Medication. Working harder. Just 'moving on.' It doesn't work. It doesn't help. Nothing does."
"Nothing's going to help if you don't want it to," Soohyun tells me, his voice hard and soft all at once. "You're a mess, Jaeseop. Have you even shaved this week? We've got an interview later. If the manager saw you like this--"
"Let him see," I say, heaving a sigh. I can't take anymore of this. Not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, I turn away. "I don't need this right now. Look, don't worry about the interview. I'll be presentable for it, whatever. Just leave me be."
"Stop." Soohyun steps in my path as I walk away. He's not as tall as I am, but he seems to tower over me right now. I can't move past him. I respect him. Even when I'm being reckless and irritable, there's still a part of me that wants to listen to him.
Quietly, I ask, "What do you want?"
"You can't keep doing this."
What right does he have to tell me what I can and can't do? Every nerve in my body tells me to just tell him off, push past him and leave. I can't. I know that I can't. Swallowing down everything I don't want to feel, I try to turn it into a question. "What, exactly, is 'this'?"
"Nothing." Soohyun sounds like he's carrying the weight of the words on his shoulders as he meets my eyes, lips turned down in a frown. "You're doing nothing, Jaeseop, and it's killing you."
I don't hang out with the others after work. If they go to clubs, or noraebang or whatever, I duck out. Usually, I don't even have to come up with an excuse. They just don't ask anymore. Even if they did, most of them already know there are only two places I wind up. Usually, it's home. My family doesn't ask too many questions. I think they don't want to know why I'm such a mess. They probably suspect. Let them. They'll figure it out sooner or later.
Sometimes, however, I wind up here. Standing in front of Eli's door. This doesn't happen constantly, or even often. We used to be inseparable, but our friendship is dying. Just like me. And just as willfully. It's not as though either of us has done anything to save it, and that's fine.
The door opens. Eli doesn't even ask why I'm there. He just lets me in, grabs a couple of beers from the fridge and shoves one in my general direction. We both sit on the couch, ignoring the television that's playing in the background. All I'm thinking about is the bitter taste of the alcohol and the drone of Eli's voice as he tells me about some girl he met at a party last night. Or maybe he's talking about something his Dad said. I have no clue. I'm not paying attention.
I hate alcohol. Didn't used to mind it. Actually, I used to drink my share. Had way too much of something strong one night and got sick enough to leave a lasting memory. Now I can't really stand it, but I'm still here drinking a beer. Eli, he likes to party. Since I started drinking again, he's actually cut back. I'd probably find that funny if it wasn't kind of sad.
"I need another," Eli tells me. It's the first clear thing he's said that I've actually managed to make out. Getting to his feet, he shuffles into the kitchen. He opens his fridge and looks disappointed at whatever he doesn't see inside. "You know, I'm kind of hungry. Let's go grab something to eat."
I don't think I've eaten at all today. Haven't really thought about it. "Sure."
"What are you in the mood for?" He's asking, but he keeps looking in the fridge as though a pizza is going to materialize or something.
"Anything. Whatever you want."
He smiles, sort of. It lights his face halfway before he shrugs. "I'm kind of bored. Maybe we should go grab something to eat and then hit a club. Might be fun."
Fun? Yeah, I know the word. He's wanting to go get lost in the music, and the people, the alcohol and God knows what else. He used to call it winding down after work. Considering how wound up we'd get, that's a laugh. We were reckless, but it was a blast. That was then. This is now. The thought of a sweaty room with too-loud music, the smell of cigarettes and the high chance of walking out of there with little recollection of what we did has no appeal to me at the moment.
"I'm really not up for that tonight," I tell him evenly. "You want to, go ahead."
Eli turns away from the kitchen, hovering in the doorway. "Come on, man. It's been too damn long. We could have a really great night. We still can. It's early, there's time--"
"Not interested."
Walking out into the living room, he's already fishing for a different shirt to wear out. "It'll be a riot. We can even find someone to help you out. Maybe some girl for the night or--"
"I said not interested," I repeat, a little more firmly. The very idea of what he's talking about makes me sick. Sure, I've done that before. Who hasn't? That's not me anymore. That hasn't been me for a long time.
"AJ, for fuck's sake, you can't keep moping forever." He's tired of my attitude. Everybody is. Doesn't matter. "Move on."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." I crush the empty beer can with my hand, looking anywhere but at him.
"Bullshit," Eli replies. He's not being friendly or warm now. He's getting pissed off, too. "I know better than you think."
Looking up at him, all the anger that I felt with Soohyun returns, doubled. Not thinking, I spit out the first thing that comes to mind. "Yeah, you would."
The second that the words leave my mouth, they're replaced by the bitter taste of regret. No matter what, Eli and I are friends. And he's right. He's the only one out of all of them that really gets what's going on with me. The others might worry about me or feel sorry for me, but Eli knows what it's like to miss someone. This someone in particular. Maybe he never had it as bad as I did, but it's still something we have in common. We never let that come between us, not while he was here. It's strange that he can do so much more damage now that he's gone.
"Sorry." It's all I can say now. I'm still not sure I mean it.
He feels the same as I do, at least. It shows in his words. "It's okay."
"Have you heard from him?" I ask quietly, unable to help himself.
It's his turn to sigh. He was expecting the question. Maybe he was even waiting for it. "Same answer as the last time you asked. I haven't heard from him in, what, two weeks? Maybe three. Something like that. He doesn't really talk to me anymore."
He doesn't really talk to any of us anymore. But Eli, at least he gets messages. If he texts Kevin, he'll get a response. If he calls, Kevin will answer. That's more than can be said for me. My calls go unanswered, my texts unreturned. Nothing I do matters to him. That thought burns more than all of the past weeks combined. He has cut me out of his life as though I never existed, and yet my life still revolves around him. I've tried. I just can't seem to get past that.
Swallowing the pain down, I close my eyes. "But he's okay, right? He's doing good?"
"He's fine," Eli sighs again, slumping back down on the couch beside me. "He's... he's got a life out there. He's happy, I think. Busy. That much I know. He's real busy now. Got a job, new place. He's... things are different over there."
"Good." I wish I could mean it. I really do. "I'm glad."
Eli falls silent. Taking a deep breath, he starts talking again, the words surprisingly hesitant. I get the feeling that it's been building for a while. "AJ, I'm... trying to understand. Really trying. I know that he..." He pauses, collecting his words before starting again. "I know you're going through hell. You're... you're hurting, and I get that. But there's not shit you can do about it. There's not shit I can do about it either, and I've been trying. It's... it's time to give up. Really. You can't b--"
"Eli," I say, a warning in my voice.
"Just let me finish. We aren't a part of his life anymore." His voice is stronger now than I've heard it in a while. He gets to his feet, unable to keep going while he's still seated. "Not... the way we used to be. Not at all, really. Be happy... that he's happy. Let that be enough and get on with enjoying your life."
When he finishes, he's wringing one hand in the other. He paces back towards the kitchen, not meeting my eyes. Speeches really aren't his thing, less so when he's got some alcohol in him, though I doubt he's even buzzed.
Looking away from him, I bite back all of the bitter commentary I want to give in response. "You don't get it."
"You're right," he replies, "I don't. You tell me you love him. Hell, anybody can see it. But I can't figure out why, if it's true, you can't just... let him go. He's where he wants to be."
"I've tried."
"What?" Eli has turned away, returning to the fridge for a fresh supply of beer.
Clearing my throat, I say again, "I've tried. To get over him, move on, whatever you want to call it. It's just not that simple."
Walking back into the living room, Eli hands me another beer and then onto the couch again. He pops the top on his own can. "Why? It's not like... AJ, you never even... He never even gave you a chance."
The tone of his words is rough, all of his previous cool gone. He's not trying to offend me, even though the words rub me the wrong way. I wish he could understand, even a fraction of it. Maybe I can explain, maybe I can't. I can at least try.
"Have you ever had someone that makes the whole world look different for you?" I ask him, turning to see his reaction. "It's like the sky is bluer, the food tastes better and things just feel better. All that just because they're around you."
"No." To his credit, he doesn't snort or laugh at the cheesy description. "Truthfully, kind of hope I never do. If something like that wrecks you this bad, I don't want to know what it'd do to me. Sounds scary as hell."
"You have no idea." I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to explain. "It's... it's like gravity. Every time I try to pull myself away from him, I just keep coming right back. No matter how hard I try to escape, I just can't get away from him."
We both fall silent, focusing on the bitter drinks we're imbibing. I wish it was at least good beer, but he got the cheap stuff. I'll bet he was more concerned with his Red Bull. We both know we won't make it out of the apartment. No clubs for us tonight. If there's food, it'll be delivery. Tonight's another night lost to my problem. This time, I'm dragging Eli down with me.
Tilting his can back, he drains the last of his fresh can. "You need help, AJ."
"I know," I breathe. I really do know. "It's ridiculous, but I can't move past it. Not after what happened."
Eli freezes in the middle of setting his can down. He wasn't expecting that particular reply. His response sounds falsely casual. "You said he didn't even tell you when he was leaving, didn't even say good bye. What really happened?"
He's right. Kevin really didn't tell me good bye. Not like he did with the others, at least. He didn't even tell me what time his flight was leaving so I could see him off. Ours was more private, something that I haven't told anyone about. My secret. His secret. Now, I think that maybe it's time to tell someone.
"The night before he left, Kevin asked me to meet him out in front of his house. I didn't go in. We just sat outside and talked," I begin. I can hear my voice shaking. I don't know if it's the alcohol or my emotions making me tremble. "For hours. You have no idea. And he... he told me that he felt something. For me. He said he... He said that it wasn't just me. But it didn't mean anything, he said, because he wouldn't act on it. He said it would ruin him if he did. His... future. His image. He.. he couldn't let us... be anything and..."
I can't finish my sentence. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. Eli is staring at me, his eyes wide and round. He has no idea how to respond. That was probably the very last thing he ever expected to hear. I don't know what I want him to say. Words of comfort? Some sort of encouragement. Neither happens.
"He's gone," Eli tells me finally. "He cut you off."
"He did."
Leaning against the back of his couch, Eli lets out a sigh. "What's the problem, then?"
"Because for the longest time, I thought it was just me." There, another admission. "I thought I was crazy, and I thought he couldn't possibly feel the same way and... he did. He did. He felt it, too. He's everything to me, Eli. Everything, and we were so close to... to..."
So close to nothing, and I know it. Another unfinished sentence.
I don't like the look in Eli's eyes right now. It's not like the others. He doesn't think I'm crazy or a lost cause. He pities me. He wants to tell me that I'm wrong, or that I shouldn't feel that way or that I'm fill of shit. I wish he would.
Instead, he simply says, "I'm sorry, but he's gone. We lost him, AJ. We lost him."
Gone. For me, it means a lot more than just the absence of Kevin's presence from my life. There's a hole there that can't be filled, not by all the 'could have beens' and 'not a chances' in the world. Kevin had walked away from me. From all of us, really. I'll never understand how he managed it, but he did.
It's funny. There's so much about that night that I didn't tell Eli. So much he can't know. He wasn't there. He didn't see the way Kevin looked at me, the way he pulled me out of the view of the lights around the front of the house so he could lean closer while he talked to me. His voice was shaking, you know, while he told me. He was afraid, even though it wasn't like he was expecting a rejection or anything like that. The only thing he was expecting was closure. He got it. I didn't.
For some reason, Kevin's ability to just drop everything and leave is all I can think about as I walk to my car. My mind keeps replaying the last conversation I had with Kevin, overlaid with all of the times everyone has told me to just move on. How is it that he could just buy his way into a new life, and yet I can't seem to do anything with the one I already have? None of it makes any sense to me.
I wish I was drunk. Then, at least, I could pass these thoughts off as alcohol-fueled wonderings born from intoxication and depression. I'm not. I'm not even buzzed. I'm stone cold sober and tonight is the first night in almost a week that I've wished I was anything but that. I don't like feeling things this strongly, this clearly.
The others are right about one thing; I'm not accomplishing anything by this not-living day in and day out. I'm going nowhere because my life has moved on without me, doing something entirely different on the other side of the world. I doubt he even thinks about me anymore.
Starting my car, I drive away from Eli's apartment. It's insanely late. Probably early, actually, but it's not like I was watching the time. I'm trying to take Eli's words at face value, but something about this entire situation just feels wrong to me. Completely wrong. It's like a piece of me is missing.
As the words run through my mind, the breath catches in my chest. Hitting the brakes harder than I should, I let up enough to ease into an empty parking lot and shut the engine off. Clear as day, the solution presents itself. If something is missing, you're supposed to find it. Something of mine is missing, and I'm never going to feel right until I find out what could have been if that piece was still in place. Even if nothing comes of it, I have to know.
What I'm thinking is madness. I'm fully aware of it. But it's doing something rather than doing nothing. Definitely madness. If I go through with this, there's a very high chance that it could cost me everything. Everything. What I want to do could cost me my job, my friends, any hope of a career. And there's not a doubt in my mind that it is worth every ounce of trouble that I already know it will bring. Just the thought of doing this fills me with something I haven't felt in ages: determination.
Pulling the phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovers over the screen. I want to call, but I know it's late. Very late. A little too late, all truth be told. Plus, Soohyun's the one I need to get a hold of. If I do call and he answers, he's probably going to try to talk me out of this. He cares about me. All the bullshitting in the world can't convince me otherwise. He's been trying to help me out, no matter how much I'd like to say otherwise. I appreciate it. Really. Right now, though, I think I need to do this and help myself for once.
Nixing the phone call, I turn it into a text instead. I stick to the basics. I'll be back in two weeks. No longer than that, no matter what happens. He can tell the company that I needed a break. At this point, I doubt they'd argue. If they do, I guess I'll just come back to no job. I'll deal with that when, and if, it happens. Right now, I've got other things to worry about.
Those things start popping up in my mind as I send the text and start the car. With my decision made, I feel an immense wave of relief washing over me. This is what I've needed all this time. This is right. First, however, I need to get home. I've got some packing to take care of. I'll eave on the next flight I can catch. I'm going to San Francisco, and I'll find Kevin if it's the last thing I do.