[oneshot] A Journal of Conquests 5/5

[minwhore]

<<

The next morning was off to a great start. He’d called Kyungsoo after waking up, brushing his teeth, and showering, eager to hear his lover again; Kyungsoo answered with a sleep-roughened voice that sent chills down Jongin’s spine and made his knees weak in the best way possible.

“Good morning,” Jongin said, smiling happily into the phone. “You aren’t up yet?”

“Hm?” Kyungsoo murmured, and there was rustling over the line. Jongin imagined that Kyungsoo must be turning over to look at the clock. There was a noise of exclamation just a few seconds later. Jongin chuckled as Kyungsoo asked, surprised, “It’s already eleven?”

“Yeah,” he said, amused. “Are you doing anything today?”

“I don’t think so,” Kyungsoo said dubiously, and there was more rustling that Jongin assumed meant Kyungsoo was getting up. Kyungsoo yawned lightly, and then continued playfully, “Why? You want to do something?”

Jongin flushed, scratching the back of his neck. He lowered his hand as soon as he realized Kyungsoo couldn’t see him, and let out a laugh. “Guilty as charged.”

“Sure,” Kyungsoo replied. “I don’t see why not. The weather is a bit chilly though.” Jongin opened his mouth to say something to that but Kyungsoo didn’t give him a chance. “If you say something cheesy right now, I will come over there and kick you. It’s too early for cheesy right now.”

“Okay, okay,” Jongin said pacifyingly, smiling to himself. “Meet in the park near your place in an hour and a half, then?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo said, and in the background water began to run. Jongin bit his bottom lip; Kyungsoo was getting ready to take a shower, it seemed. He wished he was over there. A wet Kyungsoo was a great Kyungsoo, he’d learned.

“I’ll see you then,” he said, swallowing his dry throat, and hung up. He sat there, trying to calm himself down, and looked at the clock on his bedside table and groaned.

An hour and a half would not pass by fast enough.

He dropped onto his bed, body bouncing lightly as the springs repelled him back into the air before settling. He got himself comfortable, staring idly up at the ceiling. He put his arms behind his head as a faux pillow as he wondered how to make the time pass by quickly. It wasn’t as if he had much to do at the house unless he went out to bother either Taemin or Kevin. Taemin he crossed out easily; he still felt rather uneasy after seeing Taemin packing something questionable into that small cardboard box. He turned the thought of irritating Kevin around in his head, then sat up and smiled.

It would have to do.

He stretched his arms over his head as he headed for the door, walked out and down the hallway, searching for his friend through all the rooms. He had to be there, somewhere. He wandered around, checking all of the rooms he thought he’d find Kevin in. He wasn’t in the extra guest room, he wasn’t in the kitchen either.

He stood in the empty living room, frowning in disappointment. Was Kevin running some errands? Jongin rolled his eyes; at least Taemin seemed to be gone.

Jongin sighed and walked back to his room. Maybe he’d try and watch some TV.

He passed by the study room and paused, hearing a rustle of papers behind the door. He grinned. Maybe Kevin was taking care of some paperwork Jongin’s parents gave him to do every month. Eagerly, he opened the door.

But instead of running into Kevin, he ran into Taemin.

Shit, he thought, and began to slowly back away. Unfortunately, Taemin had spotted him easily over the papers he’d been reading.

“Jongin,” Taemin called to him, taking off his glasses to look at him. Jongin froze, sighed, and turned around cautiously, pasting a pleasant expression on to his face.

“Taemin,” he greeted politely and gestured toward the papers in front of Taemin. Maybe if he treated Taemin cordially enough, his step-brother wouldn’t start harping on him about Kyungsoo. “I didn’t mean to bother you from your executive duties as Student Council Vice-President.” Taemin stood up, eyes narrowed dangerously when he heard that. Jongin bit the inside of his cheek.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Taemin said coldly, walking around the table up to Jongin. Taemin was just the slightest bit shorter than Jongin, so he was able to stare straight into Jongin’s eyes, face up-close and personal. His face was still beautiful, pretty, and it would have seemed innocent like usual if he hadn’t had that horrible, angry expression marring it.

“You’ve changed,” Taemin said, an angry amusement twisting in his voice. His top lip curled into a half-sneer. “That pretty little idol of yours has completely wrapped you around his fingers.”

“Don’t,” Jongin said warningly, glaring. He really didn’t want to hear this from Taemin again. It hurt, knowing that Taemin was so against Jongin finding true happiness with Kyungsoo. Yet at the same time, Jongin felt pity. Taemin, he knew, was miserable, and liked seeing misery in others to try and combat his own anguish. Jongin had always been there with Taemin, mocking others promptly, helping him survive through his anger and other issues.

But now that Jongin had found someone to love, Taemin probably felt threatened, abandoned even. Jongin could relate.

They’d been through Taemin’s first depression together, after their parents had begun to fight and left the apartment to their two sons for months - years. Jongin had been there to comfort Taemin when he broke down from the stress, pressure, and loneliness heaped onto him, but this time was different.

He couldn’t comfort Taemin anymore.

It was time Taemin walked on his own.

“You don’t love me anymore,” Taemin said and the realization made his voice small. He grew serious, searching Jongin’s face, as if hoping to see something there that denied that. When he didn’t see anything, Taemin’s eyes grew hard, and he whispered, “You’ve changed so much that I almost don’t recognize you.”

“That’s what love does to people,” Jongin explained, voice gentle. “It changes you, makes you want to become a better person than you once were.”

“Don’t even try to feed that shit to me,” Taemin yelled at him, storming away from him, anger and fear battling across his face. His face had turned an irritable red. “There is no such thing as love in this fucked up world!”

Jongin closed his eyes at that, feeling something tug at his heart. He’d used to think exactly like Taemin had, just a few weeks ago. He felt a bit foolish now as he recognized how wrong he’d been.

He opened his eyes and said simply, “There is.”

Taemin looked down at that, expression hidden behind his hair. Jongin was only just beginning to wonder if Taemin was giving up finally, when Taemin let out a laugh, soft at first, then loud and hysterical.

“What would your friends do when they see you like this?” Taemin asked between laughs. “Can you imagine how trashed your reputation would be when the entire school realizes that you fell in love with a goody two shoes idol? Not to mention, how angry Kyungsoo’s fans would be when they realize you two are dating?”

Jongin was barely able to control the anger he felt towards Taemin. He pressed his lips together in an effort to keep silent.

Taemin continued, uncontrollable, “Does Kyungsoo even know who you really are?”

Jongin slammed his hand against the wall, glaring at Taemin to silence him. Taemin stopped at that, though he still had this funny little smile on his face.

“He doesn’t know about me right at this moment,” Jongin finally said, clenching his jaw. “But he will after today.”

“Kyungsoo won’t believe you,” Taemin said, smirking as if he’d heard the answer he’d been waiting for. “It’s impossible for you to have changed so quickly. You can’t quit bad habits as easily as you think, Kim Jongin. You should know that - Kyungsoo definitely will.”

“He will believe me,” Jongin said confidently, though on the inside the slightest bit of doubt had blossomed. He tried to ignore it as he went to grab the doorknob. Jongin turned on his heel, shot Taemin one last glare, and left the study room, slamming the door shut behind him angrily.

Taemin stared after him, lips pressed together in a thin line, no longer smirking. He fished out his phone from his pocket, scrolled through the contacts to highlight a name, and hit call.

“Kevin?” he asked, still staring at the door. “You can deliver my little...present to Kyungsoo now.” He hung up without listening to Kevin’s reply, and whispered, “Say goodbye to your precious love, Kim Jongin.”

Jongin had forgotten to grab his keys in his haste to leave the apartment, so he left the apartment unlocked and continued down to the park. The weather was chilly, as Kyungsoo said, but not nearly as much as earlier that month. He strolled down the sidewalk, hands stuffed into his coat pockets as he watched the hustle and bustle happening around him.

He arrived at the park earlier than expected, so he sat down on an unoccupied bench, idly observing a soccer game between three little kids. Their laughter reached his ears, pure and innocent and joyful, and he had to smile when he caught sight of their wide grins as they chased each other down.

What he wouldn’t have given to have a childhood like that.

There were more people at the park than he expected as he looked around and he frowned. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to meet Kyungsoo here. No doubt there would be prying eyes as they talked. He pulled his cell phone out, thoughtfully staring down at the screen.

Maybe he should cancel the date?

He shook his head as soon as the thought entered his consciousness. He was just looking for excuses as to not tell Kyungsoo anything. Sighing heavily, Jongin rubbed a weary hand down his face. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to tell Kyungsoo everything.

“Jongin!” someone called and he contained a grimace.

Well, it was too late for him to be having any second thoughts now, he told himself as he looked up to see Kyungsoo, bundled up in an assortment of layers as if to cover up his identity, walking up to him. Kyungsoo grinned at him, smile wide and cheeks pushing up against the sunglasses he wore to cover his eyes. “Hi!”

Jongin smiled back. “You look cold,” he teased. Kyungsoo’s lips puckered into a pout at that.

“My manager wouldn’t let me leave without all of this,” Kyungsoo whined as he sat down. He flopped his head back onto the top edge of the bench, exposing his pale neck from the scarf wrapped around it. Jongin eyed it, noting with faint satisfaction the slowly healing hickies just barely peeking from the cloth. Kyungsoo wasn’t a fast healer, he guessed, and the thought brought a smile into his face. He’d have to see later if the other hickies he gave Kyungsoo were still there.

“Well, we could go somewhere else,” Jongin said thoughtfully. “Where we can get some privacy. You wouldn’t have to wear all of that then.”

“Like where?” Kyungsoo asked, arching a brow. “My place is off-limits because my manager is there. Unless you’re offering to take me to your place?” Jongin was shaking his head before Kyungsoo could even finish. Taemin would definitely still be at the apartment, and introducing Kyungsoo to Taemin of all people was a no-go.

“We’ll stay here than, I guess,” Jongin muttered.

“Thank you for the thought, though,” Kyungsoo said, and Jongin could almost see his eyes crinkling happily behind the glasses. “I’m glad I have a boyfriend who cares so much about me.”

Jongin choked, surprised at the sudden teasing. Whipping his head over to stare at Kyungsoo, he could only blink, startled, at the peaceful-looking man sitting beside him. Jongin let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, observing Kyungsoo from his new perspective. Kyungsoo looked... content, as if he had everything he wanted. Jongin could almost relate.

“If your fans ever hear you say that,” Jongin said teasingly, an unwilling smile tugging at his mouth. “I shudder to think about what they’d do to me.”

“I don’t think they’d react that badly,” Kyungsoo said, not buying into Jongin’s teasing as he cocked his head thoughtfully. He was just the tiniest bit adorable. Jongin thought idly about buying a headband with some cute cat eats on it to complete the picture. “I think they would approve of you. Most of them, anyway.”

“Oh, really?” Jongin asked challengingly. He personally didn’t believe so; Kyungsoo had some really scary, hardcore fans who were intent on marrying him, if what he’d seen from the fancams were true.

“Yes, really,” Kyungsoo said, giving Jongin an exasperated look that he could feel through the dark glasses.

“If you say so,” Jongin replied dubiously, rolling his eyes. He personally thought that Kyungsoo was putting way too much trust in his fans.

“I’m glad you agree with me,” Kyungsoo said, almost sweetly as he smirked. Their hands touched when Jongin shifted, and he kept it there for a second, savoring the tiny skin contact he had with Kyungsoo before shifting again, pulling his hands into his lap.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” Jongin said, sobering up. He turned to stare at the children playing soccer again, a part of him dreading to look at Kyungsoo as he got ready to spill everything. He resisted the urge to wipe his suddenly damp hands against his jeans.

“Hm?” Kyungsoo hummed questioning, tilting his head to let Jongin know he was listening.

Jongin opened his mouth when he was struck with sudden speechlessness. Instead of telling Kyungsoo everything, he found himself blurting, “I hate soda.” A couple linked at the arms passed by their bench, laughing at something, and though Jongin knew they were most likely not laughing at him, he still felt embarrassed. There was disappointment there, too, but there was also a lot of relief. He relaxed immediately, and told himself, Maybe next time.

“I...see,” Kyungsoo said quizzically, after a pause. And he added, “But I already knew that.”

Jongin slanted a surprised glance at Kyungsoo. He had?

As if he could hear Jongin’s thoughts, Kyungsoo quickly explained, “Well, I mean, I assumed that you didn’t like soda since you always asked for water when we ate meals back at Luhan’s house.” His sunglasses were slowly slipping down his nose, so Kyungsoo had to shove them back into their rightful place only three words into his explanation.

Jongin frowned. If Kyungsoo had noticed that, what else had he noticed?

“You’re surprisingly observant,” Jongin said, amazed.

“I’m a smart boy,” Kyungsoo said brightly, tapping at his head with a playful smile. Then he got up, dusting his knees before holding a hand out to Jongin. Jongin blinked up at him, looked at the hand offered, and took that hand, gripping it firmly. He was pulled from where he’d been sitting, down through the park, and onto a sidewalk. Jongin just stared at the back of Kyungsoo’s bouncing head, wondering what Kyungsoo was doing.

He allowed Kyungsoo to drag him, a little thrill in his stomach when he realized that Kyungsoo hadn’t let go of his hand yet, before asking, “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” Kyungsoo said breezily, sneaking a playful glance over his shoulder to look at Jongin’s confused face. “But going nowhere will eventually lead us somewhere, right?”

And Jongin couldn’t help it; he fell just a little more in love with Do Kyungsoo.

Jongin walked Kyungsoo back to his apartment two hours later. They’d ended up at a coffee shop after leaving the park, and then at a music store before heading home. Kyungsoo was still using the camera Jongin gave him, taking pictures of the two of them every few minutes. Jongin had wanted the picture with the two of them having cream mustaches - it reminded him of their couple pillows - but Kyungsoo had slapped his hand and grabbed the photo possessively.

Jongin swung some of the CDs Kyungsoo bought for him at the music store (all of which were his own albums, Jongin snorted fondly), and every once in a while their hands would brush as they continued talking.

Word on the street about Kyungsoo out and about must have leaked because some of Kyungsoo’s loyal fans were already in the midst of stalking them a few minutes before they decided to call this date done for now.

He internally mourned at the loss of Kyungsoo’s hand in his.

Jongin sighed when they finally reached the door to Kyungsoo’s new apartment. There was a small, familiar looking cardboard box sitting innocently right in front of Kyungsoo’s door, and Jongin frowned down at it, wondering where he’d seen that box before. He shrugged a moment later and turned to Kyungsoo, who was picking it up.

“Do you always get gifts at your door?” Jongin asked flatly, trying to control the unease the box brought him. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes at his tone.

“Don’t you be getting jealous,” Kyungsoo scolded before answering, “I only get presents at my door sometimes, and normally by my hardcore fans who know where I live. All the other presents I get via my manager.”

“They need to stop giving presents to you personally,” Jongin complained, scowling. “Why can’t they just give everything to your manager?” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes again, and Jongin felt slightly offended. Why was Kyungsoo so sassy with him today?

“I need to go,” Kyungsoo said instead. He gifted Jongin one last, loving glance before disappearing into his apartment, box in hand.

Jongin stared after him, then fished for his cell phone. He opened up his conversation with Kyungsoo and typed, see you soon! and hopefully next time i’ll get to kiss you! ;)

He walked away only when Kyungsoo sent back, Yeah, I’d like that.

Taemin seemed to be in a good mood when he got home, which was a slight relief to Jongin. He’d take a happy step-brother over an angry, jealous one any day.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Jongin said, eyeing him as he slowly walked over to the hallway.

“Oh, I am,” Taemin said happily, and that was when Jongin remembered. That box had looked like the one Taemin had been folding up a few days ago. Fear struck him silent. Taemin didn’t send anything to Kyungsoo, did he?

“What did you do?” Jongin demanded, unable to help his suspicions. Taemin wasn’t making it any easier on him, either, giving Jongin a look that sent him into a panic.

“What are you talking about?” Taemin asked innocently, munching on a crunchy chip. Watching him chew nonsensically, audibly and with such pleasure, grated on Jongin’s nerves. He stormed up to Taemin and snatched the bag of chips away from him.

“What did you do?” he asked again forcefully. Taemin narrowed his eyes at him, displeased that his chips had been taken away.

“Did you have a nice talk with Kyungsoo?” Taemin asked instead of answering, a mean smile on his face. “I sure hope you told him everything like you said you would.” He let out an ugly laugh. “You probably didn’t though, because you’re a fucking coward.” Jongin dropped the bag of chips to the floor, uncaring if they spilled everything as he took hold of Taemin’s shoulders.

“What did you send him?” Jongin asked, and he could barely hear himself over the roar of his rushing blood in his ears.

“Just a little recording,” Taemin said, eyes wide and angelic. He continued, that damnable smile still on his face, “Of you fucking Krystal, that is.”

His hands dropped from Taemin’s shoulders in shock, and he stumbled back a step.

“My poor brother,” Taemin cooed, looking like he was enjoying this, like he was enjoying the pain on Jongin’s face. “You probably never thought that I’d use that recording against you. I wasn’t going to... at least, until you fell in love with that idol of yours, anyway.”

Anger and betrayal reared its foul head in him, making his vision fuzzy. At his side, his fingers slowly curled into a fist, and he almost pulled it back to hit Taemin, but he stopped himself, squeezing his eyes shut and relaxing his hands, one finger at a time. When he finally thought that he could look at Taemin without feeling the need to hit him, he opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. He opened his mouth to say a scathing remark but rethought it and forced on a polite smile. His frustration made his smile sharp.

Taemin, who hadn’t been expecting a smile from him, eyed him warily, his own smile draining off his face. Jongin was happy to see it go.

“You know what?” he asked, taking another step away from Taemin, slowly heading for the hallway. “I hope you fall in love one day and realize all the hell you put me through. And I hope you feel bad about it. I really, really do.”

Jongin touched the wall leading into the hallway, sparing Taemin a small glance before going for his bedroom. He grabbed a suitcase from the bottom of his closet, packing up everything he thought he’d need in the next few days - some shirts, a few jeans, extra boxers, his journal, paper, a pen, his cell phone, his wallet, and his keys - and glanced around his room before opening the door and leaving. He would just buy everything else he was missing when he needed it.

When he got back out to the living room, Taemin was still standing where he’d been when Jongin had left to pack. Jongin eyed him, slightly, slightly concerned, before turning his eyes away resolutely to open the apartment door. He paused, halfway out the door, and turned around to look at Taemin just one more time.

“Oh, and fuck you,” Jongin said, and allowed himself to relish the shocked look on Taemin’s face.

And he left, slamming the door shut behind him for the last time.

Understandably, Kyungsoo didn’t answer any of Jongin’s calls, nor did he answer any of the text messages Jongin sent him. Jongin had to give up after a while; his clock on his dashboard told him it was already late and he had to find some place to stay for the night before worrying about Kyungsoo.

He ended up checking himself into a hotel, and set about writing an explanation out on a paper. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do with it, but he had the sudden urge to get everything out of his system. He wrote about his life, how his parents got divorced, and how his father ended up marrying Taemin’s mother. He wrote about his first encounter with Taemin, how beautiful and angelic he’d looked on the outside, but how broken and mean and negative he was on the inside. He wrote about the shit he’d done for Taemin, wrote about the shit he’d started doing for himself when he realized that he was just as warped and cruel as Taemin was. He wrote about the bet, and how much of a bad person he once was.

And finally, he wrote about love, about change.

He wrote about Kyungsoo.

When he was done, he sat back and rubbed at his stiff neck. He’d been leaning over the papers scattered out in front of him like it would be the last thing he’d get to give to Kyungsoo and, as he rubbed a tired hand down his face warily, perhaps that was an accurate assumption on his part. He wondered if Kyungsoo would even read these papers.

Probably not.

He nodded to himself at that, rubbing soothing circles on his closed eyelids. That sounded about right.

But still...

Even if there was a 99% chance that Kyungsoo wouldn’t read these papers, there was that last percentage left that gave Jongin hope. And hope he did. He hoped he hadn’t blown it with Kyungsoo, that he hadn’t just lost the love of his life.

He wanted to be able to see Kyungsoo’s smile in the future, hold his hand in the car while they talked about nonsensical things and sang to crappy songs on the radio, and build more igloos with him during the next snowfall. He wanted to be able to go to Kyungsoo’s concerts, hug and kiss him for a job well done after the concert ended, and leave Kyungsoo as breathless as he had left Jongin as he listened to his songs. He wanted to be able to wake up in the morning to Kyungsoo’s sleepy smile, and love like he’d never loved before.

He just... He just wanted Kyungsoo back.

Folding up the papers and shoving them into the journal, Jongin pushed himself up from his seat and stretched the kinks out of his neck and spine. He walked around the table he’d been writing on, grabbed his journal and his car keys, and left his hotel room.

He could only hope Kyungsoo didn’t hate him too much to not listen to what he said.

When Jongin got to Kyungsoo’s apartment, night had crept over the city. The sunrise faded, darkness bleeding into the vivid reds and oranges and yellows melancholically, leaving nothing but a doleful black-blue stretching across the sky.

Jongin stepped in front of the door to Kyungsoo’s apartment, and stood there, mind blank as his heart pounded frantically in his chest.

Ba dump.

Ba dump.

He could hear it echoing in his ears like a harsh drum beating its last tune. It pumped rushing blood through his veins, and Jongin could almost feel his blood roaring like a waterfall behind the sound of his heart beating. He swallowed and raised his hand, hesitated, and finally knocked.

His breath stopped as he tried to listen for any sign of life inside the apartment, almost going as far as to press his ear against the door. Almost. When he heard nothing for nearly two minutes, his desperation grew, and he reached up to knock on the door again when it finally opened, light flowing out.

Jongin squinted, relief allowing his lungs to work again, before he realized that it had been Kyungsoo’s manager who had opened the door.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo’s manager greeted stiffly with a short nod of his head. Jongin couldn’t help it when his heart sank. He opened his mouth to spout off reasons why he was there, but he found that he couldn’t. He shook his head, hands shaking where he was gripping at his journal, and in the end just shoved the journal into the manager’s hands.

“Please give this to Kyungsoo,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. Kyungsoo’s manager was staring down at the journal in bewilderment, as if puzzled by what Jongin had just given him.

“I don’t know if I-” the manager started to object, but Jongin shook his head again, this time more fiercely as he tried to drown out the protests.

He dropped down to his knees and bowed his head low, ignoring how the manager stilled in shock at the sight.

“Please,” he begged as he threw away all his pride. The ground felt rough and coarse against his palms, and rocks dug into his knees through his jeans. His forehead was almost touching the dirty ground, but Jongin paid it no heed. “Please give that to Kyungsoo.”

The manager was silent, contemplating, and Jongin dared not to open his eyes. His fists clenched, back tensed and waiting for what the older man would say.

“Please stand up, Jongin,” the manager finally said, and sighed when Jongin refused to do it. He continued, “I’ll make sure Kyungsoo gets this, but I can’t promise that he’ll read it.”

Jongin took a shuddering breath at that, overwhelmed with the sudden emotions flooding him as he took in those words. When he finally gathered his bearings again, he whispered, “Thank you. That’s all I could ask for.”

Kyungsoo’s manager gave a small sigh and said, “Good night, Jongin,” before closing the door, extinguishing the light that had been previously bathing the entrance.

Jongin pushed himself up slowly, standing on wobbly knees. He tried to calm himself, steadying his breathing in an attempt to slow his heart rate down.

He walked around, feeling a little lost, and ended up sitting on a bench near Kyungsoo’s apartment. And there he sat as time ticked by, night slowly leaving the land just as day bloomed overhead.

Jongin, understandably, felt like he hadn’t slept a wink last night, and stood up, almost groaning when his bones and muscles gave a sound protest to his movements. He shook the feeling out of his legs, wincing because it felt like he was walking on pins and needles. The pain slithered out of his lower body until he finally left like he could walk without wanting to sit down again.

He took one step, two steps, before turning around to look at Kyungsoo’s apartment. The window curtains wobbled, as if someone had been watching him just a few seconds ago, and Jongin sighed.

So Kyungsoo wasn’t going to come out and talk to him, after all.

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration before beginning the trek back to his car. He’d parked a few blocks away, but the distance felt too much for him at that moment. That didn’t stop him, though. He plowed through the feeling - all he wanted right now was a shower and a bed that he could sleep on forever.

Maybe after he got some rest he’d feel a bit better than he currently was.

(He doubted it though.)

Jongin had just finished crossing a busy street when a hand grabbed at his sleeve. Startled, his momentum went from moving forward to stumbling backwards.

Angry at whoever had pulled on his sleeve, he closed his eyes and counted to three before turning around with a forced smirk on his face. “Did you need-”

The words died off in his throat when he realized that it had been Kyungsoo who had grabbed him. His mouth hung open, silent, as he took in Kyungsoo’s appearance. It looked like Kyungsoo had as much sleep as Jongin had. His hair was mussed, eyes slightly red from not getting any sleep and possibly from crying as well, and he had bags under his eyes that made Jongin’s heart ache.

He swallowed and croaked, “Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo glared at him, anger bubbling in those once warm eyes. He pushed something into Jongin’s stomach, and Jongin automatically reached up to keep it from falling. He glanced down and uncomprehendingly stared at his journal, which had been returned to him.

“I haven’t read that, nor will I ever read it,” Kyungsoo said shortly, chillingly. “I came to return it. Also, don’t call me or text me anymore; I changed my number. Goodbye, Kim Jongin. I hope I never see your face again.” Kyungsoo left it at that, turning to leave. Jongin stared after him, shocked, as he clutched his journal in his hands. Kyungsoo was almost at the street light when Jongin snapped out of it and ran after him.

He grabbed at Kyungsoo’s shoulder, spinning him around, uncaring of the people currently watching them curiously as he tried to give Kyungsoo back the journal.

“Take it,” he insisted, eyes wide as he tried to beseech Kyungsoo. His hands shook, a horrible, horrible feeling in the very back of his throat. Kyungsoo pushed him away easily.

“I told you that I didn’t fucking want it,” Kyungsoo seethed, glaring at him acidically. “I want nothing more to do with you anymore!” Kyungsoo was almost shouting, though he seemed to be trying hard not to gain any more attention than necessary. “I cried, Jongin.” His voice dropped down to a pained whisper. “I cried.”

That floated between them as Kyungsoo dropped his head, as if ashamed he were admitting that. Then Kyungsoo’s hands were pushing the journal back into his, weaker this time, but with no less determination.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin said, taking an unconscious step forward. Kyungsoo skittered backwards, tottering at the edge of the sidewalk as cars raced by as he shook his head frantically.

“Don’t come any closer to me,” Kyungsoo warned him, and Jongin felt a flash of alarmed worry when he realized just how close to the cars Kyungsoo was getting.

“Kyungsoo, you-” Jongin tried to warn Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo shook his head, turning around and tripping when he found that there was no more sidewalk behind him.

A blare turned his attention to the left as Kyungsoo stumbled from the sidewalk, tripping right into the nearest car lane. Kyungsoo was scowling as he struggled to get back on his feet but Jongin paid no attention to him as he turned his head at the sound. His eyes dilated in panic when he saw the car coming at Kyungsoo quickly, the journal falling from his hands.

He was running before his journal even hit the pavement.

He got to Kyungsoo in time, pushing him out of the way before the car hit him full on. He heard the impact and he realized just a second too late that he was airbound, easily, like he weighed nothing, like gravity didn’t apply to him in that one second, before he came crashing down onto the ground. Pain shot through his nerves like wildfire, and he didn’t comprehend that he was crying until Kyungsoo was there, hovering above him, tears welling up in his own eyes and dripping down to Jongin’s already wet face.

“Jongin, Jongin,” Kyungsoo was calling his name. Jongin could barely hear it over the ringing of his ears, but he put on a smirk, hoping to relieve some of worry sketched out onto Kyungsoo’s face. Instead, Kyungsoo seemed more worried, squeezing his hand in a tight grip as he shouted at someone to call an ambulance.

“Stay with me, Jongin,” Kyungsoo told him, searching his face. It was painful for Jongin to speak, so he merely squeezed Kyungsoo’s hand with his own. That seemed to alleviate some of Kyungsoo’s distress, so he did it again, though his arm was quickly becoming numb.

“I’m going to be fine,” Jongin managed to rasp out, smiling painfully. Kyungsoo seemed to gather his bearings at that, nodding resolutely.

“You will be fine,” Kyungsoo said, gripping onto his hand tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin whispered, and tried to blink the tears out of his eyes. He couldn’t, though, and his vision grew blurry as he tried to look up into Kyungsoo’s eyes. Everything hurt. He whispered again, “I love you.”

Kyungsoo pulled his hand up, pressing it against his damp face as he said back, “I love you, too.”

“When I get better, I’ll show you my dance,” Jongin promised brokenly, his voice nothing but an exhale. It was getting harder to breathe. Black spots danced in his eyesight.

Kyungsoo’s reply was lost in the sounds of an ambulance. Jongin squeezed Kyungsoo’s hand again instead.

Then he closed his eyes, and smiled one last time.

The start of the new semester began without a hitch. The school started the new semester by holding a service that morning in honor of Kim Jongin, who died just one week before school started, and Lee Taemin was getting himself ready in the men’s restroom. He was reading through the cards he’d written his speech on idly, picking out his facial expressions in the mirror, when the door to the restroom opened and in came Mister Idol himself, Do Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo seemed to not realize he was there as he went about doing his business, and only noticed him when he went to wash his hands.

“Hi,” Kyungsoo said to him, with a little, almost genuine smile that he gave through the mirror’s reflection. Taemin eyed him distastefully before pasting a smile onto his own face as well. “My name is Do Kyungsoo. Have we met?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I think I would remember if I had met someone as famous as yourself,” Taemin said breezily, his face pinching up slightly when his lips tightened around the smile. Kyungsoo made a nonsensical sound at that, nodding thoughtfully. Taemin forced himself to ask, “Do you like it at this school so far?”

“It’s impressive,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother, though. His death must be hard on you.”

“I’m dealing with it,” Taemin said shortly, and looked down at the cards in front of him that held his speech because he was through with looking at Kyungsoo. SIlence stretched out between them before, on impulse, he asked, “Did you know Jongin?” He sneered at Kyungsoo’s back when the idol turned to grab some paper to wipe his hands off, and quickly resumed looking at his cards when Kyungsoo turned back.

“You could say that,” Kyungsoo replied at last. He studied Taemin’s reflection in the mirror, smile no longer on his face. His face looked angry for a split second before he began to leave. “It was nice meeting you. I’ll be looking forward to your speech.”

The bathroom door closed behind Kyungsoo, and left Taemin to wonder if he had been imaging the victorious undertone to Kyungsoo’s words.

He dismissed it, and focused on getting his speech ready. He smiled and watched as the mirror him smiled back.

It was show time.

Halfway through him giving his rather moving speech, someone came into the auditorium and made a ruckus. Taemin narrowed his eyes, determinedly ignoring the insulting student as she whispered to a row of students before going to the next.

Murmuring echoed in the quiet room as everyone grew distracted. Students began to hesitantly leave the auditorium, first one at a time, then by droves. At one point, they stopped bothering to be quiet as they exited the auditorium, talking loudly amongst themselves as the noise level outside grew.

Taemin slammed his palms down angrily when this continued to happen, furious. He yelled into the microphone, “Do you people have no respect for the dead?”

They ignored him as they left.

Taemin gritted his teeth angrily and marched down from the stage, following the other students out. He found a big crowd outside, all reading pages bound together by simple black clips. He looked at them incredulously, wondering why on earth people had ditched the service to read, of all things, when Krystal flounced up to him, smiling sweetly as she disrespectfully shoved one of the small books at him before leaving. Taemin stared after her, wondering what had her panties in a twist.

Taemin blinked down at book he’d been given, and noted the title, Kim Jongin’s Journal. His hand hovered to pull the pages open, hesitating, before he took the cover with his fingers and flipped it to reveal the pages that laid waiting inside.

He skimmed through each page, watching his and Jongin’s secrets unravel before his eyes. Everything he’d done was written within these pages, from start to finish. Jongin had catalogued it all, penned it in like he was trying to make the memories last. Tears sprang behind his eyes as he looked up.

Everyone else looked back at him, disappointment and disgust lining their faces.

Taemin laughed at them, laughed so hard that the tears he’d been trying to hold back began to stream down his face, unchecked.

You are amazing, Kim Jongin, he thought almost wryly, and cried for the brother he’d lost.

Months later, Do Kyungsoo made a brilliant comeback. His title song was a ballad over a lost love, and his new album itself held a lot of beautiful love songs. He made references to Polaroid pictures, and couple pillows, and people began to wonder what had happened to their little idol. These songs were different from the ones he normally had on his albums, and his fans found that weird.

Speculations rampaged through the social networking sites about his change. Some reasoned that he must have fallen in love during his time in his new high school, while others guessed he’d had these songs for a while, and that his company was finally willing to try them out.

His album hit the shelves, and it sent his fans buzzing frantically when they read his Thanks-To.

Because on the last page of his Thanks-To, he’d written:

Our love didn’t last for a tomorrow, like I had hoped, but I’m glad I loved you.
Thank you for loving me.

Signed,
Do Kyungsoo

fin.