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Infinite: Sungyeol
6717 words, rated R
Summary: Sungyeol gets the role of a lifetime; he'll be playing Sungyeol.
Of all the things to throw, a ring isn't high on Sungyeol's list.
Myungsoo's list is obviously very different.
"So, what do you think?" he asks while throwing clothes on his mattress.
Sungyeol stares at the ring in his lap and furrows his eyebrows. "That was the worst proposal ever. Go on, try again."
Myungsoo tosses a hairbrush at him now, which hits him in the chest. Sungyeol picks it up to throw back and misses the other's head by a few centimeters. His friend sighs and flops backwards onto the bed, bouncing a few articles of clothing around in the process.
This is the part where Sungyeol would play the role of the caring, considerate friend. But this isn't an audition, and he's never really been that considerate.
"Do you think I should get a new phone?" he asks before he falls on the bed beside Myungsoo. When his friend says nothing, Sungyeol adds, "I've lost mine."
They both stare at the ceiling in silence, and Sungyeol notices that white really isn't the best color for it. He closes his eyes. He is almost asleep because it's just the way he likes it-still and quiet-when Myungsoo turns a little and says, "He's gonna say no."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
The bed shakes again, and when Sungyeol opens his eyes, he sees that Myungsoo is sitting up with his shoulders hunched and his head in his hands. "Sungjong. I'm talking about Sungjong."
"Ah," Sungyeol says like he already knows what's going on. He doesn't keep the act going for very long. "What about Sungjong?"
It dawns on Sungyeol a little later than it probably should, what with all the impromptu meet-ups for lunch and the just-because invitations to parties they aren't having. Myungsoo doesn't look over; he barely breathes. Sungyeol takes this as a sign to state his discovery. "You like Sungjong."
His friend hangs his head a little lower, and Sungyeol searches the floor for wherever the ring may have rolled to during their battle. He finds it next to some art book Myungsoo must have bought because of Sungjong. It's funny how things start to click.
"Look, I don't know why you're asking Sungjong out after you just proposed to me. Badly, by the way," Sungyeol pauses and waits for Myungsoo's little laugh. When it happens, he hands the ring over and says, "But you may as well give it a shot."
Myungsoo stares at the silver band; it glints a bit under the fluorescent lighting as does his eyes. "Thanks."
It's just one word, but Sungyeol always gets the last one. So as Myungsoo walks out the door, he yells, "If he says no, you better bring me back something nice and shiny."
Myungsoo just walks on by, stopping at the table by the door for a moment. "Found your phone," he calls out while said phone is flying toward Sungyeol.
"Fuck."
∞
It doesn't take long for life to catch up to him from there. Sungjong says yes, which is pretty great for Myungsoo. Graduation creeps closer for Myungsoo and Sungyeol, and decisions are made. These decisions have nothing to do with Sungyeol.
For the record, he is going to miss this place.
∞
"Is this the last of it?"
Sungyeol looks around the now empty room. He nods to Myungsoo who is untangling the cord of his television that only seems to work when it's raining. He probably should tell Myungsoo to forget about it and leave it here as a tribute to the old and falling apart. But then he thinks of nights when he would stretch out in front of it as the world was pouring down. Maybe he'll keep it, just until he finds something better. He doesn't really believe in tributes, anyway.
He leans against the wall that still bears the mark of college after-parties and after-college parties. The white paint is chipped off in places from days of boredom, and he can still smell Tuesday's leftovers in the air. All this reminiscing is getting too heavy; his feet are already tired. Myungsoo is on his knees, balancing his weight on his forearms. To most, he looks like a good friend, but to Sungyeol, he's becoming more and more like a chair.
Myungsoo wobbles a bit when he sits down, and maybe this isn't one of his better ideas. But when everything steadies, Sungyeol props his elbows on the tiny table that supports his television. Tapping the top of the box, he catches his reflection in the filthy screen. He sees someone on the verge of something bigger and better than anything he has done so far. He also sees someone lost and confused. Sungyeol shakes his head only to see the image do the same; it bothers him more than he can say.
So he does the thing that seems to always get him by in these situations-he gets up and walks away.
Myungsoo sighs with relief as the last knot loosens and the cord looks more like a cord than a monster. Sungyeol watches as his friend lifts the set up, bent knees and straight back. It's like a show of strength, but Sungyeol refuses to play along and praise him. Instead, he ducks to check his hair in the screen, patting down the loose strands while Myungsoo kicks at his shin.
Sungyeol looks up and smiles at Myungsoo before rising to his full height, grateful that he has one thing that's better. Myungsoo's smile doesn't fade, but the day looks like it is. They both glance around the room once more; Sungyeol notices how all of the stock furniture looks almost decent without empty bottles and scripts on top of them, how the room looks bigger without guys passed out in the floor, how the world seems bigger now that it's all gone.
But Myungsoo doesn't. He looks happy, almost excited at the prospect of something more.
"So, where to now?" he asks.
The air in the room starts to disappear. Sungyeol gestures towards the door, and Myungsoo nods approvingly. To what, he's not sure, but at least it's a start.
∞
Myungsoo eyeballs the trunk of the car. His eyes squint in calculations while Sungyeol's roll. But then they focus. Between his cardboard boxes and plastic containers are tiny breathing spaces, but they are spaces, nevertheless.
When did his life become contents so small?
Myungsoo thrusts the television into Sungyeol's chest and slams the trunk down. Sungyeol's arms adjust to the extra weight, and he shifts his own against the side of the car.
"Let's go. Sunggyu's waiting," Myungsoo says after he backhands Sungyeol's arm.
By the time Sungyeol thinks to retaliate, the engine is roaring. He grimaces as he wedges the side of the television between his left arm and hip so he can open the door.
Now he knows why some memories are better left where they were made.
∞
Sungyeol changes stations on the radio every time he thinks Myungsoo is about to kill them in some freak car accident. As he listens to a familiar song and sees Sunggyu's apartment building in the distance, he hopes that nine is the magic number.
It ends up being eleven, but really, who's counting?
∞
There are two amazing things about Sunggyu's apartment. One is Sunggyu himself, with all of the care and wisdom one can take without reverting back to diapers. The second is the smell. Woohyun is usually working on another masterpiece in the kitchen when he's not being a total dick. That makes it about half and half.
"Sungyeol, hey, how are you?" Sunggyu asks while circling around him, already grabbing whatever he can yank from the hands of the visitors.
Myungsoo waves a hello with his recently freed hands, tilts his head, and backs out the door without a sound. Sungyeol makes a mental note to text him later about how he currently owns half of the trunk.
∞
Sungyeol slips into Sunggyu's spare pajama pants that probably were still out of fashion five years ago. They are a little short on him, but he supposes he can't complain. He will, of course, but not until he sees Myungsoo. Or Woohyun.
"So, Yeolie, what are you going to do now?" Sunggyu asks as he gathers Sungyeol's jeans. Knowing Sunggyu, he is probably going to launder them and have them spread on an ironing board before Sungyeol even gets up in the morning.
Sungyeol shrugs the question from his shoulders like he wishes he could do to his worries. Sunggyu tilts his head and smiles, his eyes barely visible. Sungyeol prepares for a pep talk and a lot more affection when Woohyun bustles through the door with a bag full of boxes.
"I brought some stuff back from work."
Sunggyu's smile moves from Sungyeol to Woohyun to the packages of food. Sungyeol puts his hand over his stomach to suppress his instant-and constant-hunger. He feels the rumble almost immediately; Sunggyu laughs while Woohyun just stares.
Sunggyu whips his head back to Woohyun and asks, "Did you pick up any toilet paper?"
"Yes, dear. Now, you gonna tell me why he's here or what?"
Sunggyu turns his attention back to adoring Sungyeol but does say, "Sungyeol's going to be staying with us for a while. Isn't that great?"
Woohyun snorts; his face contorts into the typical-douchebag look he does so well-not that Sungyeol ever notices.
"Well, I'm going to take a quick shower then we can eat together, 'kay?" Sunggyu disappears into his room before Sungyeol makes out what he said.
Woohyun apparently is accustomed to this kind of treatment, twisting the cap of a water bottle without any care at all. His eyes never leave Sungyeol, or Sungyeol's general direction.
He settles into a chair at the small dining table, tapping his fingers on the metal as the sounds of water running fill the air. Woohyun walks to the door frame adjoining Sunggyu's room to the "general" area. He looks back at Sungyeol-Sungyeol assumes-before he yells, "I'm not giving up my bed!"
∞
Sunggyu sits at the head of the table-adjacent to Sungyeol and Woohyun-like the common link connecting the others. He props his forearms against the table's edge, dividing his time between eating and talking. The small talk never develops further since Woohyun only grunts. Sunggyu sighs over empty dishes and stale dialogue.
The food wouldn't have allowed for much talking anyway.
∞
Sungyeol climbs onto the top bunk, which is decorated in the fashion-or lack thereof-of Sunggyu. It smells of citrus and mint, night clubs and old books. But as his head hits the pillow, the overwhelming feeling is that of comfort and home.
Woohyun slips in the bed beneath Sungyeol, shaking the top bunk in the process. Woohyun settles down after a while, and Sungyeol relaxes into the mattress.
"Hey, are you asleep yet?" Woohyun whispers.
Sungyeol sighs and closes his eyes. The bed shakes and creaks beneath him, and he buries his head in the pillow. After one breath, the movements stop.
"Hey. Sungyeol, you're not listening to me."
Sungyeol hears a grunt and feels a sharp jab in his stomach, which he presumes is Woohyun's foot pressed against the mattress. Sungyeol pushes himself upward to sit on the bed; his head brushes the ceiling and his eyes are unfocused.
"What the fuck do you want?" he whispers. Well, maybe it's a little louder than a whisper but frustration isn't meant to be quiet.
He swears he can hear the grin in Woohyun's voice. "I just wanted to say goodnight."
Sungyeol flops back onto the mattress and muffles his own bedtime greeting into the pillow.
∞
Thursday is Sungyeol's favorite day, mostly because his favorite activities have always been planned on Thursdays-play practices, beating Myungsoo at beer pong, spying on Woohyun from the corner booth at the café. But that's not really important because today is Thursday.
Not even Woohyun can ruin that.
∞
The thing of it is he never even tries.
Woohyun stumbles out of the shower and gets ready for work, eats cereal as he slips his shoes on. Sungyeol sits at the table and babbles on about anything and everything he knows Woohyun hates.
Woohyun doesn't argue. He doesn't even flinch.
When Woohyun is no longer in sight, Sungyeol checks the calendar to make sure today isn't really Wednesday.
∞
Sungjong texts him sometime around two in the afternoon, which is about the time of day when everything takes a rest before the rush of night.
Sungyeol sits alone on the well-loved sofa in front of Sunggyu's fully-functioning television. Woohyun is at work, probably flirting with some schoolgirls for tips; Sunggyu is passed out on the futon, sleeping his free time away until his next gig. It's quiet without the bickering.
Sungyeol messages Sungjong with a time and a place. He has got to get out of here.
∞
Two orders at a street-side food stand and one lovesick pop song later, Sungyeol falls in step with the model-like strut Sungjong adopted as his own. Sungjong's eyes are as big as the fried dumplings that he shovels into his mouth.
"Think we should get some gimbap?" he asks with another bite. His eyes follow the line of vendors as they stroll along. "Or maybe some ramyun?"
Sungyeol smiles a bit, watching all of the people on the streets and making up their stories. They all walk with a purpose as if they have it all figured out. And maybe they do. But Sungyeol lets himself pretend for one afternoon that he isn't the only one lost in the world.
He feels a quick tug on his shirt before fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him closer and closer to a cart selling skewered fried chicken. Sungjong half-flails, half-jogs down the street before buying three skewers.
"Did you want one?"
Sungyeol shakes his head, taking another bite of dumpling. The stragglers of lunchtime are rushing off to somewhere, and Sungyeol wonders where somewhere is. Maybe he should be going to, but then Sungjong's phone chimes in with the latest chart topper and thoughts are muddled with the melody.
"Hello?" Sungjong answers before tearing into his second skewer. "Yeah, I'm out with Sungyeol."
Sungyeol stops watching the world to watch Sungjong's facial expressions.
"Well I just ate, so probably not. But don't rule it out just yet."
The smile drops as does Sungjong's tone.
"No, that's fine. Tomorrow?"
The third skewer falls into a nearby trashcan, untouched. Sungjong bites his bottom lip; Sungyeol notices the sidewalk.
"Saturday's better for me, too. Good, Saturday it is then. I'll tell him. Okay, bye."
Sungyeol looks up at Sungjong, phone in hand and eyes glancing downwards. Sungyeol digs deep in his memory for a script appropriate for the scene but comes up empty-handed. Instead he counts the number of breaths before the world starts to move again.
"Myungsoo said hi, by the way. Come on, let's go."
Sungyeol follows along behind Sungjong, taking note of the change in posture. His enthusiasm for the day is chucked somewhere in the trash with Sungjong's appetite.
∞
Colorful clothing is on display in every shop window they pass. Sungjong drags Sungyeol inside the sixth one, which looks more like a home for ghosts of fashion trends past.
They look around at the mannequins that are tackily dressed, mimicking the poses and trying to maintain a straight face.
Sungjong is already heading for the changing room; Sungyeol toddles behind with his arms full of bright and clashing patterns.
Sungjong likes to dress up; Sungyeol likes to pretend.
And Sungyeol would be lying if he didn't at least like the sound of Sungjong's laughter against neon green polyester.
∞
The manager of the store asks them both to leave after three hours of trying on clothes. Apparently, a contest about who can create the worst outfit ever is not that important to the businessman.
"He's just mad that the customers were laughing at his sorry excuses for clothing rather than buying them," Sungjong says as he brushes the hair from his face with his fingers. "That was probably the most people he's ever seen in there."
Sungyeol laughs. "I still won."
∞
They find themselves exactly where they started within ten minutes of leaving the store. The day is winding down in the city, and the streets are beginning to fill back up. The air still smells of fried food and a need for rain.
Sunggyu's apartment building is just around the block. Sungjong checks the bus schedule and his phone.
"Tell that shithead boyfriend of yours that he owes me dinner. You can throw in that I said hello, if you want."
Sungjong nods and puts his hand up in the air; fingers extend as far as they can. He moves his arm back and forth a few more times before Sungyeol turns around.
In the movies, this is around the time The End pops up on the screen, before everything fades to black.
Sungyeol isn't ready for the ending, and it's not quite dark enough outside yet.
∞
Woohyun welcomes Sungyeol when he comes in the door. "You got two texts and a phone call," he says as he throws Sungyeol's phone onto the sofa.
"You found my phone. So where's Gyu?"
Woohyun glances at the phone centimeters away from Sungyeol's fingers. "Maybe you should check your phone."
"Maybe," Sungyeol says as he props his feet on the coffee table.
"He had to go in early to help wash dishes. He won't be in until sometime tomorrow, early."
Sungyeol nods approvingly at Woohyun's sigh. An uncomfortable silence fills the room, or maybe it's just regular silence. But Sungyeol is uncomfortable.
"So what did the messages say?"
Woohyun rolls his eyes and gets up to leave. He doesn't go far, just into the kitchen. Sungyeol would probably say something sexist or gender-role stereotypic, something regarding Woohyun belonging in the kitchen. But Woohyun's not looking at him, and Sungyeol knows that Woohyun is at his best when cooking.
Sungyeol's fingers span the short distance over to his phone. The two messages are brief and both from Woohyun. He decides to read them aloud.
"Hey, prick, Gyu's gonna be working late. You hungry?" Sungyeol checks the second message. It's about as long. "Food? What do you want, dickwad?"
Woohyun turns to face him. His head is cocked to the side as if he's waiting for the answers. Sungyeol isn't the type to disappoint.
"Well, yes, I am hungry. And I don't know, just something that doesn't suck. And you're the prick. Anything else?"
"Fuck you."
Sungyeol bends down a little, bringing himself down to Woohyun's height. He smiles. "Can we eat first?"
∞
Somewhere between lifting his fork and swallowing, Sungyeol's mind forgets that this isn't sophomore year.
Woohyun doesn't talk much, but the way his mouth moves to chew is enough for Sungyeol.
The silence isn't mandatory, but it feels like it is.
For the record, this is the first time Sungyeol's voice doesn't fill the silence.
∞
Sungyeol wakes up at 6:30 when the bed shakes, but he makes no attempt to get up.
∞
He wakes up again, thirty minutes later, when new weight is added to the bottom bunk. He rolls over and goes back to sleep.
∞
He finally gets out of bed at nine. Sunggyu is sleeping off the previous night on the bottom bunk, probably because it';s way too bright in the "general area". Woohyun is already at work; the café is most likely opened by now.
Sungyeol brushes his teeth and stares at his reflection for a bit before searching the apartment for his phone.
∞
Twenty minutes into the search, he gives up. He hopes Sunggyu's phone will be easier to find.
∞
He finds Sunggyu's phone on its third ring under a heap of clothes.
"Hello?"
"Sungyeol?"
"Yeah, who is this?" Sungyeol asks as he kicks a few shirts into a neater pile.
"Dongwoo. Why do you have Gyu's phone?"
"Oh, I was just about to call you," Sungyeol says, ignoring Dongwoo's question in favor of one of his own. "What's up?"
"Um, nothing much. You?"
"The same."
"Wanna do something then?"
"Sure."
"Just do me a favor and put Gyu's phone next to his head. He loses his phone more than anyone I know. It's crazy."
"Sure is." Sungyeol fakes a laugh and remembers he still needs to find his own phone. "Well, I'll see you later. Like noonish?"
"Sounds good. I'll pick you up around then. Bye."
Sungyeol ends the call and presses a few buttons. He hears a familiar ringtone coming from somewhere around the sofa. Digging in between the cushions, he finds his phone. "Finally."
∞
Dongwoo takes him to a rundown restaurant a few blocks from Dongwoo's apartment. They sit in a booth next to the only window. Dongwoo orders for Sungyeol while the latter picks at the chipping paint. It turns that the too-bright yellow was once a lighter shade of blue, before that a flesh tone. He wipes his hands on his jeans.
A plump older woman brings their food out. When Dongwoo asks about her family, she talks about her lazy son, her pregnant teenage daughter, and her deadbeat husband. Dongwoo seems genuinely interested; Sungyeol swats at the fly swarming around his plate.
She leaves the table with a smile, which Sungyeol finds odd considering her problems.
Once she's out of earshot, Sungyeol asks, "You come here often?"
Dongwoo nods as he digs his spoon into the rice. "It's close. And the people here are nice."
Clearly, that is all that is nice about this place, but Sungyeol keeps his mouth shut. After all, he isn't the one paying for his food.
∞
Dongwoo has the ability to smile during any situation, like his world has never gone to shit. And maybe it hasn't.
Sungyeol checks his reflection in the window and tries his best to smooth the creases of a frown on his face. He pushes the corners of his lips up a little.
His world has never gone to shit, either.
∞
The tip on the table is probably enough to cover Sungyeol's meal; Sungyeol thinks it may be the only thing keeping the place together. He adds a few more bills when Dongwoo chats with the man at the register.
Being nice seems to be free, but looking nice is expensive. He supposes this will help a bit.
∞
Dongwoo's apartment is a contradiction in itself. It's a mix of a mountain man's essential gear and a teenage girl's favorite garb of the day. It looks like a shed in one of those conspiracy movies where a guy lives off the useless junk of others, but it also looks like the setting of one of those reality shows where a guy keeps the useless junk for no apparent reason.
Sungyeol is sure Dongwoo has a reason; he just can't be bothered to care. And it's not like the place is filthy or anything, quite the opposite. It's just pushing maximum capacity for knick-knacks.
"Have a seat," Dongwoo says as he wanders into his tiny kitchen.
Sungyeol flops down on the couch and stretches his legs out across it. He rubs his hands over the splotches of green and blue on the armrest, the only lasting souvenirs of his first loss at paintball.
"Thirsty?" Dongwoo asks. Sungyeol doesn't respond, knowing that Dongwoo will bring two bottles of beer to the table anyway.
Dongwoo hands Sungyeol the ice cold bottle. He points at the paint on the couch, "That was not one of our better ideas."
Sungyeol chuckles a little. "It would have been better if we were sober."
Dongwoo nods. He tilts the bottle to his lips; Sungyeol decides to take a drink, too.
After a swallow, Dongwoo hums as if in thought. "We should do it again sometime."
Sungyeol feels the liquid slide down his throat, chilling his body as it goes. Some things never really change.
∞
But as Sungyeol listens to Dongwoo talk about his job, he realizes some things do change.
"Its just a small time gig, you know. But I figure, it'll pay the rent until the whole chemistry thing takes off," Dongwoo says as he finishes off his bottle.
Sungyeol sits there, his bottle half-empty and his stomach in knots. Dongwoo pries the beer from Sungyeol's hand and drinks the rest in one gulp.
"So, I heard you are living with Gyu and Woohyun." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and the back of his hand is wiped on his jeans. Sungyeol nods a little; Dongwoo continues. "I could use a roommate. No one ever comes by except Howon. He only comes when he needs something."
Sungyeol follows the movements of Dongwoo's mouth, making out the words but not quite putting them together. "You want me to move in?"
Dongwoo winks before he carries the empty bottles into the kitchen. "You can stay over and think about it, if you want."
∞
Howon comes over an hour later, claiming he wants to see Sungyeol but he goes straight to the refrigerator. Dongwoo doesn't act surprised, and Sungyeol never put himself as a higher priority than food or booze.
"We should go out tonight," Howon says. Sungyeol can barely hear him over the sounds of contents moving in the fridge.
"I don't think so." Dongwoo shoves Howon out of the way to repair the damage caused by his friend's invasion. "I invited Sungyeol to stay the night to see how he likes it here, but he won't know whether or not he likes it if he's hungover."
"Honestly, he'll probably like it better if he's hungover. He'll sleep right through the night without being bothered by this shit you keep around." Howon grins, and Dongwoo smacks the back of his head.
"Let's let him decide," Howon says, rubbing his head. "So, wanna go?"
Sungyeol thinks it over. "Sure," he says finally.
Howon grins at Sungyeol before biting into the sandwich he has concocted. Dongwoo rolls his eyes.
∞
A night out with Howon means a stay at the bar for Sungyeol. Lights of pink and blue dance across the floor, reflecting the sweat off the bodies grinding in the center. Howon's hands are resting on some girl's hip; Sungyeol's hands slide down the neck of a bottle.
The bass of the song throbs in the soles of his shoes, and the glow of the dance floor burns his tired eyes. He understands why Dongwoo stopped coming to these years ago.
A lady sits next to him. Her eyes are as dark as her skintight dress, and her lips are painted red. She orders something fruity with a cutesy name.
Sungyeol tears the labels off of his bottle as he waits for the next. A dish of peanuts and dried fruit sit on the bar counter beside him, untouched.
She lights up a cigarette and watches it burn between her fingers. The smoke from it makes the club look like it's on fire. She orders two shots of soju, one for her and one for her friend.
Sungyeol isn't sure if he should be flattered or scared when the bartender puts a glass in front of him.
∞
She kisses Sungyeol after her sixth shot. She tells him that she is sex personified, smelling of cheap perfume and tasting like tar. Her thick lipstick smears across his lips one more time before she breaks down in sobs. The love she always wanted sinks in watered down alcohol.
Sungyeol pays for the shots and his three bottles of lager before stumbling for the door. The city burns like one hundred cigarettes, and the wind is causing the world to spin. He hails a cab and texts Howon after he sputters Dongwoo's address to the driver.
His body is moving too fast for his head, but that's always been his problem.
∞
Dongwoo opens the door to the apartment. He helps Sungyeol take off his shoes and all but carries him to the bathroom.
Sungyeol feels everything he's tried so hard to suppress work it's way up his throat. His fingers tighten around the porcelain bowl, hoping each purge will be the last.
Dongwoo's hands are cool on his back, rubbing the muscles in circular motions. Sungyeol gets dizzy just thinking about it.
He stands on wobbly legs while Dongwoo wipes his mouth for him. Sungyeol catches hints of bright red on the toilet paper before Dongwoo flushes down the evidence.
Sungyeol is tucked in sometime after three, wearing a paint-splattered t-shirt and some old mesh shorts. They feel strange on his skin, and he keeps rearranging them on his body.
Dongwoo kisses his brow before turning out the light. Sungyeol has never been more comfortable.
∞
He wakes to the smell of Dongwoo, but as Sungyeol gets out of bed, he smells Woohyun's cologne. But then his head starts spinning, and it's way too bright.
Sungyeol sniffs the shirt until the scent fades. He changes into the pants he wore last night and one of Dongwoo's favorite t-shirts. He heads for the kitchen and forgets whatever he may have done last night.
∞
A simple understanding has always been there between Dongwoo and Sungyeol. They never talk about drunken adventures while under the influence or when hungover. They just carry on until the next time they're together and reasonably sober.
"Have you seen my phone? I know I had it in the taxi," Sungyeol says while Dongwoo slides him a plate of food and a few pills for a headache.
"You had it when you came in. I put it on the nightstand."
Sungyeol doesn't remember seeing it, but to save face, he heads back to the bedroom. It's not there, which means Sungyeol went somewhere else last night. But to save face, he calls out, "Found it. Thanks."
∞
Days without rain catch up to Seoul. The sidewalks become slippery catwalks for Sungyeol as he slowly makes his way to Sunggyu's.
The televisions on display in a store all depict the weather. When the man's segment ends, the broadcaster starts a new story. Sungyeol doesn't really pay much attention until an older man is interviewed. He says that life is full of answers.
Clouds are covering the city like a thick blanket. The rain beats down a little harder on his umbrella, but he doesn't really notice. His mind swims in the little puddles he tries to avoid.
Life is full of answers.
It rings in his ears like a speech he partially slept through in a philosophy lecture.
As thunder roars around him, Sungyeol grips his umbrella tighter and lets the storm of his mind drown out the rest of the day.
Sure, life is full of answers.
But what the fuck is the question?
∞
The question comes hours later as a revelation. Like all of his other revelations, Sungyeol finds it mixed in his food while bickering with Woohyun.
"Why are you such an asshole?" Sungyeol asks as he guides another spoonful of rice to his mouth.
Woohyun scoffs. "It's called being charming. You should try it sometime."
Sungyeol rolls his eyes. Then he pays attention. There's a mark on Woohyun's skin right above his collar bone. Woohyun tugs his shirt to cover it, but Sungyeol sees it anyway. It starts a new train of thought. Woohyun stops it before it goes too far.
"Shouldn't you be doing something?" The smile on Woohyun's face is ugly yet so intriguing.
Sungyeol drops his utensils and walks to the door with question in tow. Before he leaves to find one of life's many answers, he shows his gratitude in the best way he knows how.
The hand gesture brings another smile to Woohyun's face-this one more attractive-but it's his fingers that have Sungyeol's attention when the sentiment is returned.
"You're an asshole," Woohyun mutters like he's trying to keep it to himself and let everyone know at the same time.
"It's called being charming," Sungyeol shouts as he closes the door.
∞
Without a phone or Sunggyu to complain to, Sungyeol's head clouds up like the sky. The rain has stopped, and the cracks in the sidewalks hold water without question. But Sungyeol isn't that lucky.
Shouldn';t you be doing something?
He passes by the tents on the street that sell noodles and beer. It's not really what he needs right now. He needs to get away. He needs...
The traffic is halted as he crosses in front of them. Howon doesn't live too far from here, and he'll have just what Sungyeol needs.
∞
Howon opens the door and lets him in without caring about the time. Sungyeol wanders to the bean bag chair in the corner and sinks in.
"What's up?" Howon glides over to the dark couch, stretching his legs out across it.
Sungyeol plots out the finer details of his plan, but he ends up muttering nonsense. Luckily, Howon is able to keep up.
"You want to borrow my van?"
One simple nod is all it takes for Sungyeol to have keys in his hands.
"Take care of her," Howon warns.
∞
Sungyeol's quest calls for a gathering, the first in a few weeks. Howon demands everyone bring snacks and booze. Sungyeol notices that even boring stories come out with as much enthusiasm as campfire ghost stories when Howon tells them.
Dongwoo stops over first, arms full of lager and chips. Sungyeol smiles at him as he grabs the drinks.
"So, you thought about it?" Dongwoo asks. His face is hopeful.
Sungyeol nods, probably more than is needed. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."
"What offer?" Sunggyu asks as he bustles over, pulling his shoes off.
"Yeolie's gonna move in with me!"
Sungjong comes in on that, clapping his hands. Myungsoo just nods. Woohyun pops the top of a beer, carefully avoiding Sungyeol's gaze.
Howon appears from behind Sungyeol, patting his back a little harder than Sungyeol would've liked. Beers are passed around, bowls of snacks are placed on the table, and Sungyeol's eyes are stuck on Woohyun.
∞
Sungyeol puts his hands on the steering wheel and waits. It's seven o'clock on a Sunday morning, and Sunggyu's hands are against the frame of the driver's door.
"Is this about moving? You know you can stay with us for as long as you need, right?" Sunggyu's eyes, though barely visible, look sad.
"Like hell, he can," Woohyun says, elbows resting over the edge of the window rolled up halfway.
Sungyeol's fingers move to roll the window the rest of the way up, to block out Woohyun and his stupid remarks. Instead, Sungyeol sticks the key in the ignition. The roar of the engine pushes his friends behind the van. He watches them wave from the rear-view mirror.
Sunggyu looks like a mother sending her kid off to school for the first time. Dongwoo and Howon smile as if they always knew it would come to this. Myungsoo sticks his hand in the air like he's a rockstar saluting his fans. Woohyun doesn't wave, doesn't smile.
He puts it in drive and makes it a few miles down the road before he remembers something.
∞
"Sungjong, what the fuck are you doing here?"
Sungjong rubs his eyes and climbs into the front passenger seat. "I didn't want you to be alone."
Startled and suspicious, Sungyeol looks Sungjong over as he waits for the light to change.
"Look, it was after two this morning. In my defense, I had been drinking."
Sungyeol smirks. "Like that makes it any better. I guess, I'll take you to your apartment."
"No, I'm coming with you."
Sungjong's hands fidget in his lap, and he is biting his lower lip. Sungyeol decides that going by the apartment would be too much of a detour to his soul-searching.
∞
They pass Seoul's city limits before Sungjong says anything again.
"Why are you here?"
Sungyeol runs the reasons in his head and keeps his foot on the gas pedal. "Why are you?"
Sungjong frowns and turns to stare out of the window. His fingers never move too far from the cell phone in his lap. "I don't think it's working out."
His phone rings as if on cue. Sungjong ignores it, so Sungyeol tries to, as well.
When the silence fills the van again, Sungjong continues, "We never see each other anymore."
Sungyeol doesn't point out that Myungsoo just called. He just keeps driving.
∞
"You remember Myungsoo's days as a male model?" Sungyeol asks, hoping for one of Sungjong';s smiles.
Clear bulbs glow yellow, illuminating the mediocrity of midday traffic. The van is running low on fuel, but they are high on memories. Sungjong merely nods.
"Myungsoo was so bad, but the picture turned out alright," Sungyeol says. He takes an exit and pulls into a gas station.
"Thanks. He wasn't easy to work with." Sungjong's fingers trace the outline of his phone.
"You worked it out, though."
Sungjong nods again, this time with a smile. "Guess we did."
∞
Sungjong calls Myungsoo as Sungyeol pumps some gas into the van.
A mother shoves her daughter to walk more quickly when she sees the two guys in a serial-rapist-white van.
"Huh, I thought the red paint would have helped," Sungyeol says as he pulls onto the street.
Sungjong laughs.
∞
"Think we need to go back?"
Sungjong stares at him for a while. Sungyeol glances over to see what was wrong with the question.
"What?" he finally asks.
"You haven't figured out what you wanted to yet."
Sungyeol drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Maybe because I don't know what I want."
"You used to talk about doing things, and now you don't know?"
"I don't think I ever did."
Sungjong pops a piece of chocolate into his mouth. "Then, why worry about it now?"
∞
Sungjong sleeps most of the way back to Howon's. Sungyeol takes this as an opportunity to call Howon and let him know. They mostly talk about the quality of driving and the fuel Sungyeol put in and if there are any scratches or dents.
After hanging up, Sungyeol relaxes in his seat.
∞
It's dark when he parks. Sungjong is rubbing his eyes awake, and Howon is waving like an idiot from the front of his apartment building.
Myungsoo all but carries Sungjong out of the van; Sungjong doesn't seem to mind that much.
Sungyeol taps Myungsoo's shoulder when Sungjong is safely on the ground. "Bring my stuff over to Dongwoo's tomorrow. And don't think for one second that I won't know if you took something."
Myungsoo pokes him in the side. "Why would I want any of that shit?"
"Because you bought most of it," Sungjong says.
∞
"Is this everything?" Dongwoo asks as he plugs in Sungyeol's television.
Sungyeol wipes the screen with one of Dongwoo's old shirts. "Yeah, I think it is."
Dongwoo smiles and falls back on the couch. Sungyeol falls next to him, admiring his stuff intermingled with Dongwoo's. Apparently, the apartment can hold more than he originally thought.
"Looks good." Dongwoo rubs his chin on his right shoulder.
"I know I do," Sungyeol grins. Dongwoo smiles, too.
∞
Visiting Sunggyu is a must, but Sungyeol puts it off until later in the week. However, he finds himself knocking on the door the next day.
"Hey," he says when Woohyun opens the door.
Woohyun nods and moves aside so Sungyeol can move in. He also slips something into Sungyeol's hands.
"You found my phone?"
Woohyun rubs the back of his head and stares down at the floor. "Thought you might need it back. You got a few messages, by the way."
Sungyeol looks at his unread messages, most of them from Woohyun. His throat is a little tight, and the air isn't going to his lungs like it should be.
"About what happened..."
Woohyun cuts him off. "Don't."
Sungyeol cocks his head to the left to look at Woohyun, to really look at him. "What if I want to?"
Woohyun shrugs. "I'll text you sometime."
∞
Sungyeol walks to where Dongwoo is parked on the side of the street.
"Go okay?" he asks.
Sungyeol nods. "Better than I thought. Remind me to keep up with my phone."
Dongwoo chuckles. "No worries, man. I got you."
Part of the issue of achievement is to be able to set realistic goals, but that's one of the hardest things to do because you don't always know exactly where you're going, and you shouldn't.
-George Lucas
That was the quote that started it all.
For Z. Thanks for reading over my shoulder and stealing the chair when I got up, for understanding my crazy rants to music videos, for listening to our often one-sided late night talks, for everything.
This was originally labeled Great Wide Somewhere from a line in the song "Belle (Reprise)" from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. It was then known as Notover, mostly because of an inside joke about the music video on which this story is based ("Nothing's Over" by Infinite). I finally decided on the title when reading comments about Sungjong's introduction on the first episode of Days of Infinite.
If you reached the end and wondered why you wasted your time on this or thought this was going nowhere, then I'm sorry. This is mostly my feelings after school, when everyone has a plan for the future. All I could see were kids I once knew becoming adults, except they didn't understand that they didn't need everything figured out right then. It was all too fast, and I felt that during this.
Again, if you are angry, I offer cyber hugs and my condolences. Whatever your stance, thanks.
Infinite: Sungyeol
6717 words, rated R
Summary: Sungyeol gets the role of a lifetime; he'll be playing Sungyeol.
Of all the things to throw, a ring isn't high on Sungyeol's list.
Myungsoo's list is obviously very different.
"So, what do you think?" he asks while throwing clothes on his mattress.
Sungyeol stares at the ring in his lap and furrows his eyebrows. "That was the worst proposal ever. Go on, try again."
Myungsoo tosses a hairbrush at him now, which hits him in the chest. Sungyeol picks it up to throw back and misses the other's head by a few centimeters. His friend sighs and flops backwards onto the bed, bouncing a few articles of clothing around in the process.
This is the part where Sungyeol would play the role of the caring, considerate friend. But this isn't an audition, and he's never really been that considerate.
"Do you think I should get a new phone?" he asks before he falls on the bed beside Myungsoo. When his friend says nothing, Sungyeol adds, "I've lost mine."
They both stare at the ceiling in silence, and Sungyeol notices that white really isn't the best color for it. He closes his eyes. He is almost asleep because it's just the way he likes it-still and quiet-when Myungsoo turns a little and says, "He's gonna say no."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
The bed shakes again, and when Sungyeol opens his eyes, he sees that Myungsoo is sitting up with his shoulders hunched and his head in his hands. "Sungjong. I'm talking about Sungjong."
"Ah," Sungyeol says like he already knows what's going on. He doesn't keep the act going for very long. "What about Sungjong?"
It dawns on Sungyeol a little later than it probably should, what with all the impromptu meet-ups for lunch and the just-because invitations to parties they aren't having. Myungsoo doesn't look over; he barely breathes. Sungyeol takes this as a sign to state his discovery. "You like Sungjong."
His friend hangs his head a little lower, and Sungyeol searches the floor for wherever the ring may have rolled to during their battle. He finds it next to some art book Myungsoo must have bought because of Sungjong. It's funny how things start to click.
"Look, I don't know why you're asking Sungjong out after you just proposed to me. Badly, by the way," Sungyeol pauses and waits for Myungsoo's little laugh. When it happens, he hands the ring over and says, "But you may as well give it a shot."
Myungsoo stares at the silver band; it glints a bit under the fluorescent lighting as does his eyes. "Thanks."
It's just one word, but Sungyeol always gets the last one. So as Myungsoo walks out the door, he yells, "If he says no, you better bring me back something nice and shiny."
Myungsoo just walks on by, stopping at the table by the door for a moment. "Found your phone," he calls out while said phone is flying toward Sungyeol.
"Fuck."
∞
It doesn't take long for life to catch up to him from there. Sungjong says yes, which is pretty great for Myungsoo. Graduation creeps closer for Myungsoo and Sungyeol, and decisions are made. These decisions have nothing to do with Sungyeol.
For the record, he is going to miss this place.
∞
"Is this the last of it?"
Sungyeol looks around the now empty room. He nods to Myungsoo who is untangling the cord of his television that only seems to work when it's raining. He probably should tell Myungsoo to forget about it and leave it here as a tribute to the old and falling apart. But then he thinks of nights when he would stretch out in front of it as the world was pouring down. Maybe he'll keep it, just until he finds something better. He doesn't really believe in tributes, anyway.
He leans against the wall that still bears the mark of college after-parties and after-college parties. The white paint is chipped off in places from days of boredom, and he can still smell Tuesday's leftovers in the air. All this reminiscing is getting too heavy; his feet are already tired. Myungsoo is on his knees, balancing his weight on his forearms. To most, he looks like a good friend, but to Sungyeol, he's becoming more and more like a chair.
Myungsoo wobbles a bit when he sits down, and maybe this isn't one of his better ideas. But when everything steadies, Sungyeol props his elbows on the tiny table that supports his television. Tapping the top of the box, he catches his reflection in the filthy screen. He sees someone on the verge of something bigger and better than anything he has done so far. He also sees someone lost and confused. Sungyeol shakes his head only to see the image do the same; it bothers him more than he can say.
So he does the thing that seems to always get him by in these situations-he gets up and walks away.
Myungsoo sighs with relief as the last knot loosens and the cord looks more like a cord than a monster. Sungyeol watches as his friend lifts the set up, bent knees and straight back. It's like a show of strength, but Sungyeol refuses to play along and praise him. Instead, he ducks to check his hair in the screen, patting down the loose strands while Myungsoo kicks at his shin.
Sungyeol looks up and smiles at Myungsoo before rising to his full height, grateful that he has one thing that's better. Myungsoo's smile doesn't fade, but the day looks like it is. They both glance around the room once more; Sungyeol notices how all of the stock furniture looks almost decent without empty bottles and scripts on top of them, how the room looks bigger without guys passed out in the floor, how the world seems bigger now that it's all gone.
But Myungsoo doesn't. He looks happy, almost excited at the prospect of something more.
"So, where to now?" he asks.
The air in the room starts to disappear. Sungyeol gestures towards the door, and Myungsoo nods approvingly. To what, he's not sure, but at least it's a start.
∞
Myungsoo eyeballs the trunk of the car. His eyes squint in calculations while Sungyeol's roll. But then they focus. Between his cardboard boxes and plastic containers are tiny breathing spaces, but they are spaces, nevertheless.
When did his life become contents so small?
Myungsoo thrusts the television into Sungyeol's chest and slams the trunk down. Sungyeol's arms adjust to the extra weight, and he shifts his own against the side of the car.
"Let's go. Sunggyu's waiting," Myungsoo says after he backhands Sungyeol's arm.
By the time Sungyeol thinks to retaliate, the engine is roaring. He grimaces as he wedges the side of the television between his left arm and hip so he can open the door.
Now he knows why some memories are better left where they were made.
∞
Sungyeol changes stations on the radio every time he thinks Myungsoo is about to kill them in some freak car accident. As he listens to a familiar song and sees Sunggyu's apartment building in the distance, he hopes that nine is the magic number.
It ends up being eleven, but really, who's counting?
∞
There are two amazing things about Sunggyu's apartment. One is Sunggyu himself, with all of the care and wisdom one can take without reverting back to diapers. The second is the smell. Woohyun is usually working on another masterpiece in the kitchen when he's not being a total dick. That makes it about half and half.
"Sungyeol, hey, how are you?" Sunggyu asks while circling around him, already grabbing whatever he can yank from the hands of the visitors.
Myungsoo waves a hello with his recently freed hands, tilts his head, and backs out the door without a sound. Sungyeol makes a mental note to text him later about how he currently owns half of the trunk.
∞
Sungyeol slips into Sunggyu's spare pajama pants that probably were still out of fashion five years ago. They are a little short on him, but he supposes he can't complain. He will, of course, but not until he sees Myungsoo. Or Woohyun.
"So, Yeolie, what are you going to do now?" Sunggyu asks as he gathers Sungyeol's jeans. Knowing Sunggyu, he is probably going to launder them and have them spread on an ironing board before Sungyeol even gets up in the morning.
Sungyeol shrugs the question from his shoulders like he wishes he could do to his worries. Sunggyu tilts his head and smiles, his eyes barely visible. Sungyeol prepares for a pep talk and a lot more affection when Woohyun bustles through the door with a bag full of boxes.
"I brought some stuff back from work."
Sunggyu's smile moves from Sungyeol to Woohyun to the packages of food. Sungyeol puts his hand over his stomach to suppress his instant-and constant-hunger. He feels the rumble almost immediately; Sunggyu laughs while Woohyun just stares.
Sunggyu whips his head back to Woohyun and asks, "Did you pick up any toilet paper?"
"Yes, dear. Now, you gonna tell me why he's here or what?"
Sunggyu turns his attention back to adoring Sungyeol but does say, "Sungyeol's going to be staying with us for a while. Isn't that great?"
Woohyun snorts; his face contorts into the typical-douchebag look he does so well-not that Sungyeol ever notices.
"Well, I'm going to take a quick shower then we can eat together, 'kay?" Sunggyu disappears into his room before Sungyeol makes out what he said.
Woohyun apparently is accustomed to this kind of treatment, twisting the cap of a water bottle without any care at all. His eyes never leave Sungyeol, or Sungyeol's general direction.
He settles into a chair at the small dining table, tapping his fingers on the metal as the sounds of water running fill the air. Woohyun walks to the door frame adjoining Sunggyu's room to the "general" area. He looks back at Sungyeol-Sungyeol assumes-before he yells, "I'm not giving up my bed!"
∞
Sunggyu sits at the head of the table-adjacent to Sungyeol and Woohyun-like the common link connecting the others. He props his forearms against the table's edge, dividing his time between eating and talking. The small talk never develops further since Woohyun only grunts. Sunggyu sighs over empty dishes and stale dialogue.
The food wouldn't have allowed for much talking anyway.
∞
Sungyeol climbs onto the top bunk, which is decorated in the fashion-or lack thereof-of Sunggyu. It smells of citrus and mint, night clubs and old books. But as his head hits the pillow, the overwhelming feeling is that of comfort and home.
Woohyun slips in the bed beneath Sungyeol, shaking the top bunk in the process. Woohyun settles down after a while, and Sungyeol relaxes into the mattress.
"Hey, are you asleep yet?" Woohyun whispers.
Sungyeol sighs and closes his eyes. The bed shakes and creaks beneath him, and he buries his head in the pillow. After one breath, the movements stop.
"Hey. Sungyeol, you're not listening to me."
Sungyeol hears a grunt and feels a sharp jab in his stomach, which he presumes is Woohyun's foot pressed against the mattress. Sungyeol pushes himself upward to sit on the bed; his head brushes the ceiling and his eyes are unfocused.
"What the fuck do you want?" he whispers. Well, maybe it's a little louder than a whisper but frustration isn't meant to be quiet.
He swears he can hear the grin in Woohyun's voice. "I just wanted to say goodnight."
Sungyeol flops back onto the mattress and muffles his own bedtime greeting into the pillow.
∞
Thursday is Sungyeol's favorite day, mostly because his favorite activities have always been planned on Thursdays-play practices, beating Myungsoo at beer pong, spying on Woohyun from the corner booth at the café. But that's not really important because today is Thursday.
Not even Woohyun can ruin that.
∞
The thing of it is he never even tries.
Woohyun stumbles out of the shower and gets ready for work, eats cereal as he slips his shoes on. Sungyeol sits at the table and babbles on about anything and everything he knows Woohyun hates.
Woohyun doesn't argue. He doesn't even flinch.
When Woohyun is no longer in sight, Sungyeol checks the calendar to make sure today isn't really Wednesday.
∞
Sungjong texts him sometime around two in the afternoon, which is about the time of day when everything takes a rest before the rush of night.
Sungyeol sits alone on the well-loved sofa in front of Sunggyu's fully-functioning television. Woohyun is at work, probably flirting with some schoolgirls for tips; Sunggyu is passed out on the futon, sleeping his free time away until his next gig. It's quiet without the bickering.
Sungyeol messages Sungjong with a time and a place. He has got to get out of here.
∞
Two orders at a street-side food stand and one lovesick pop song later, Sungyeol falls in step with the model-like strut Sungjong adopted as his own. Sungjong's eyes are as big as the fried dumplings that he shovels into his mouth.
"Think we should get some gimbap?" he asks with another bite. His eyes follow the line of vendors as they stroll along. "Or maybe some ramyun?"
Sungyeol smiles a bit, watching all of the people on the streets and making up their stories. They all walk with a purpose as if they have it all figured out. And maybe they do. But Sungyeol lets himself pretend for one afternoon that he isn't the only one lost in the world.
He feels a quick tug on his shirt before fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him closer and closer to a cart selling skewered fried chicken. Sungjong half-flails, half-jogs down the street before buying three skewers.
"Did you want one?"
Sungyeol shakes his head, taking another bite of dumpling. The stragglers of lunchtime are rushing off to somewhere, and Sungyeol wonders where somewhere is. Maybe he should be going to, but then Sungjong's phone chimes in with the latest chart topper and thoughts are muddled with the melody.
"Hello?" Sungjong answers before tearing into his second skewer. "Yeah, I'm out with Sungyeol."
Sungyeol stops watching the world to watch Sungjong's facial expressions.
"Well I just ate, so probably not. But don't rule it out just yet."
The smile drops as does Sungjong's tone.
"No, that's fine. Tomorrow?"
The third skewer falls into a nearby trashcan, untouched. Sungjong bites his bottom lip; Sungyeol notices the sidewalk.
"Saturday's better for me, too. Good, Saturday it is then. I'll tell him. Okay, bye."
Sungyeol looks up at Sungjong, phone in hand and eyes glancing downwards. Sungyeol digs deep in his memory for a script appropriate for the scene but comes up empty-handed. Instead he counts the number of breaths before the world starts to move again.
"Myungsoo said hi, by the way. Come on, let's go."
Sungyeol follows along behind Sungjong, taking note of the change in posture. His enthusiasm for the day is chucked somewhere in the trash with Sungjong's appetite.
∞
Colorful clothing is on display in every shop window they pass. Sungjong drags Sungyeol inside the sixth one, which looks more like a home for ghosts of fashion trends past.
They look around at the mannequins that are tackily dressed, mimicking the poses and trying to maintain a straight face.
Sungjong is already heading for the changing room; Sungyeol toddles behind with his arms full of bright and clashing patterns.
Sungjong likes to dress up; Sungyeol likes to pretend.
And Sungyeol would be lying if he didn't at least like the sound of Sungjong's laughter against neon green polyester.
∞
The manager of the store asks them both to leave after three hours of trying on clothes. Apparently, a contest about who can create the worst outfit ever is not that important to the businessman.
"He's just mad that the customers were laughing at his sorry excuses for clothing rather than buying them," Sungjong says as he brushes the hair from his face with his fingers. "That was probably the most people he's ever seen in there."
Sungyeol laughs. "I still won."
∞
They find themselves exactly where they started within ten minutes of leaving the store. The day is winding down in the city, and the streets are beginning to fill back up. The air still smells of fried food and a need for rain.
Sunggyu's apartment building is just around the block. Sungjong checks the bus schedule and his phone.
"Tell that shithead boyfriend of yours that he owes me dinner. You can throw in that I said hello, if you want."
Sungjong nods and puts his hand up in the air; fingers extend as far as they can. He moves his arm back and forth a few more times before Sungyeol turns around.
In the movies, this is around the time The End pops up on the screen, before everything fades to black.
Sungyeol isn't ready for the ending, and it's not quite dark enough outside yet.
∞
Woohyun welcomes Sungyeol when he comes in the door. "You got two texts and a phone call," he says as he throws Sungyeol's phone onto the sofa.
"You found my phone. So where's Gyu?"
Woohyun glances at the phone centimeters away from Sungyeol's fingers. "Maybe you should check your phone."
"Maybe," Sungyeol says as he props his feet on the coffee table.
"He had to go in early to help wash dishes. He won't be in until sometime tomorrow, early."
Sungyeol nods approvingly at Woohyun's sigh. An uncomfortable silence fills the room, or maybe it's just regular silence. But Sungyeol is uncomfortable.
"So what did the messages say?"
Woohyun rolls his eyes and gets up to leave. He doesn't go far, just into the kitchen. Sungyeol would probably say something sexist or gender-role stereotypic, something regarding Woohyun belonging in the kitchen. But Woohyun's not looking at him, and Sungyeol knows that Woohyun is at his best when cooking.
Sungyeol's fingers span the short distance over to his phone. The two messages are brief and both from Woohyun. He decides to read them aloud.
"Hey, prick, Gyu's gonna be working late. You hungry?" Sungyeol checks the second message. It's about as long. "Food? What do you want, dickwad?"
Woohyun turns to face him. His head is cocked to the side as if he's waiting for the answers. Sungyeol isn't the type to disappoint.
"Well, yes, I am hungry. And I don't know, just something that doesn't suck. And you're the prick. Anything else?"
"Fuck you."
Sungyeol bends down a little, bringing himself down to Woohyun's height. He smiles. "Can we eat first?"
∞
Somewhere between lifting his fork and swallowing, Sungyeol's mind forgets that this isn't sophomore year.
Woohyun doesn't talk much, but the way his mouth moves to chew is enough for Sungyeol.
The silence isn't mandatory, but it feels like it is.
For the record, this is the first time Sungyeol's voice doesn't fill the silence.
∞
Sungyeol wakes up at 6:30 when the bed shakes, but he makes no attempt to get up.
∞
He wakes up again, thirty minutes later, when new weight is added to the bottom bunk. He rolls over and goes back to sleep.
∞
He finally gets out of bed at nine. Sunggyu is sleeping off the previous night on the bottom bunk, probably because it';s way too bright in the "general area". Woohyun is already at work; the café is most likely opened by now.
Sungyeol brushes his teeth and stares at his reflection for a bit before searching the apartment for his phone.
∞
Twenty minutes into the search, he gives up. He hopes Sunggyu's phone will be easier to find.
∞
He finds Sunggyu's phone on its third ring under a heap of clothes.
"Hello?"
"Sungyeol?"
"Yeah, who is this?" Sungyeol asks as he kicks a few shirts into a neater pile.
"Dongwoo. Why do you have Gyu's phone?"
"Oh, I was just about to call you," Sungyeol says, ignoring Dongwoo's question in favor of one of his own. "What's up?"
"Um, nothing much. You?"
"The same."
"Wanna do something then?"
"Sure."
"Just do me a favor and put Gyu's phone next to his head. He loses his phone more than anyone I know. It's crazy."
"Sure is." Sungyeol fakes a laugh and remembers he still needs to find his own phone. "Well, I'll see you later. Like noonish?"
"Sounds good. I'll pick you up around then. Bye."
Sungyeol ends the call and presses a few buttons. He hears a familiar ringtone coming from somewhere around the sofa. Digging in between the cushions, he finds his phone. "Finally."
∞
Dongwoo takes him to a rundown restaurant a few blocks from Dongwoo's apartment. They sit in a booth next to the only window. Dongwoo orders for Sungyeol while the latter picks at the chipping paint. It turns that the too-bright yellow was once a lighter shade of blue, before that a flesh tone. He wipes his hands on his jeans.
A plump older woman brings their food out. When Dongwoo asks about her family, she talks about her lazy son, her pregnant teenage daughter, and her deadbeat husband. Dongwoo seems genuinely interested; Sungyeol swats at the fly swarming around his plate.
She leaves the table with a smile, which Sungyeol finds odd considering her problems.
Once she's out of earshot, Sungyeol asks, "You come here often?"
Dongwoo nods as he digs his spoon into the rice. "It's close. And the people here are nice."
Clearly, that is all that is nice about this place, but Sungyeol keeps his mouth shut. After all, he isn't the one paying for his food.
∞
Dongwoo has the ability to smile during any situation, like his world has never gone to shit. And maybe it hasn't.
Sungyeol checks his reflection in the window and tries his best to smooth the creases of a frown on his face. He pushes the corners of his lips up a little.
His world has never gone to shit, either.
∞
The tip on the table is probably enough to cover Sungyeol's meal; Sungyeol thinks it may be the only thing keeping the place together. He adds a few more bills when Dongwoo chats with the man at the register.
Being nice seems to be free, but looking nice is expensive. He supposes this will help a bit.
∞
Dongwoo's apartment is a contradiction in itself. It's a mix of a mountain man's essential gear and a teenage girl's favorite garb of the day. It looks like a shed in one of those conspiracy movies where a guy lives off the useless junk of others, but it also looks like the setting of one of those reality shows where a guy keeps the useless junk for no apparent reason.
Sungyeol is sure Dongwoo has a reason; he just can't be bothered to care. And it's not like the place is filthy or anything, quite the opposite. It's just pushing maximum capacity for knick-knacks.
"Have a seat," Dongwoo says as he wanders into his tiny kitchen.
Sungyeol flops down on the couch and stretches his legs out across it. He rubs his hands over the splotches of green and blue on the armrest, the only lasting souvenirs of his first loss at paintball.
"Thirsty?" Dongwoo asks. Sungyeol doesn't respond, knowing that Dongwoo will bring two bottles of beer to the table anyway.
Dongwoo hands Sungyeol the ice cold bottle. He points at the paint on the couch, "That was not one of our better ideas."
Sungyeol chuckles a little. "It would have been better if we were sober."
Dongwoo nods. He tilts the bottle to his lips; Sungyeol decides to take a drink, too.
After a swallow, Dongwoo hums as if in thought. "We should do it again sometime."
Sungyeol feels the liquid slide down his throat, chilling his body as it goes. Some things never really change.
∞
But as Sungyeol listens to Dongwoo talk about his job, he realizes some things do change.
"Its just a small time gig, you know. But I figure, it'll pay the rent until the whole chemistry thing takes off," Dongwoo says as he finishes off his bottle.
Sungyeol sits there, his bottle half-empty and his stomach in knots. Dongwoo pries the beer from Sungyeol's hand and drinks the rest in one gulp.
"So, I heard you are living with Gyu and Woohyun." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and the back of his hand is wiped on his jeans. Sungyeol nods a little; Dongwoo continues. "I could use a roommate. No one ever comes by except Howon. He only comes when he needs something."
Sungyeol follows the movements of Dongwoo's mouth, making out the words but not quite putting them together. "You want me to move in?"
Dongwoo winks before he carries the empty bottles into the kitchen. "You can stay over and think about it, if you want."
∞
Howon comes over an hour later, claiming he wants to see Sungyeol but he goes straight to the refrigerator. Dongwoo doesn't act surprised, and Sungyeol never put himself as a higher priority than food or booze.
"We should go out tonight," Howon says. Sungyeol can barely hear him over the sounds of contents moving in the fridge.
"I don't think so." Dongwoo shoves Howon out of the way to repair the damage caused by his friend's invasion. "I invited Sungyeol to stay the night to see how he likes it here, but he won't know whether or not he likes it if he's hungover."
"Honestly, he'll probably like it better if he's hungover. He'll sleep right through the night without being bothered by this shit you keep around." Howon grins, and Dongwoo smacks the back of his head.
"Let's let him decide," Howon says, rubbing his head. "So, wanna go?"
Sungyeol thinks it over. "Sure," he says finally.
Howon grins at Sungyeol before biting into the sandwich he has concocted. Dongwoo rolls his eyes.
∞
A night out with Howon means a stay at the bar for Sungyeol. Lights of pink and blue dance across the floor, reflecting the sweat off the bodies grinding in the center. Howon's hands are resting on some girl's hip; Sungyeol's hands slide down the neck of a bottle.
The bass of the song throbs in the soles of his shoes, and the glow of the dance floor burns his tired eyes. He understands why Dongwoo stopped coming to these years ago.
A lady sits next to him. Her eyes are as dark as her skintight dress, and her lips are painted red. She orders something fruity with a cutesy name.
Sungyeol tears the labels off of his bottle as he waits for the next. A dish of peanuts and dried fruit sit on the bar counter beside him, untouched.
She lights up a cigarette and watches it burn between her fingers. The smoke from it makes the club look like it's on fire. She orders two shots of soju, one for her and one for her friend.
Sungyeol isn't sure if he should be flattered or scared when the bartender puts a glass in front of him.
∞
She kisses Sungyeol after her sixth shot. She tells him that she is sex personified, smelling of cheap perfume and tasting like tar. Her thick lipstick smears across his lips one more time before she breaks down in sobs. The love she always wanted sinks in watered down alcohol.
Sungyeol pays for the shots and his three bottles of lager before stumbling for the door. The city burns like one hundred cigarettes, and the wind is causing the world to spin. He hails a cab and texts Howon after he sputters Dongwoo's address to the driver.
His body is moving too fast for his head, but that's always been his problem.
∞
Dongwoo opens the door to the apartment. He helps Sungyeol take off his shoes and all but carries him to the bathroom.
Sungyeol feels everything he's tried so hard to suppress work it's way up his throat. His fingers tighten around the porcelain bowl, hoping each purge will be the last.
Dongwoo's hands are cool on his back, rubbing the muscles in circular motions. Sungyeol gets dizzy just thinking about it.
He stands on wobbly legs while Dongwoo wipes his mouth for him. Sungyeol catches hints of bright red on the toilet paper before Dongwoo flushes down the evidence.
Sungyeol is tucked in sometime after three, wearing a paint-splattered t-shirt and some old mesh shorts. They feel strange on his skin, and he keeps rearranging them on his body.
Dongwoo kisses his brow before turning out the light. Sungyeol has never been more comfortable.
∞
He wakes to the smell of Dongwoo, but as Sungyeol gets out of bed, he smells Woohyun's cologne. But then his head starts spinning, and it's way too bright.
Sungyeol sniffs the shirt until the scent fades. He changes into the pants he wore last night and one of Dongwoo's favorite t-shirts. He heads for the kitchen and forgets whatever he may have done last night.
∞
A simple understanding has always been there between Dongwoo and Sungyeol. They never talk about drunken adventures while under the influence or when hungover. They just carry on until the next time they're together and reasonably sober.
"Have you seen my phone? I know I had it in the taxi," Sungyeol says while Dongwoo slides him a plate of food and a few pills for a headache.
"You had it when you came in. I put it on the nightstand."
Sungyeol doesn't remember seeing it, but to save face, he heads back to the bedroom. It's not there, which means Sungyeol went somewhere else last night. But to save face, he calls out, "Found it. Thanks."
∞
Days without rain catch up to Seoul. The sidewalks become slippery catwalks for Sungyeol as he slowly makes his way to Sunggyu's.
The televisions on display in a store all depict the weather. When the man's segment ends, the broadcaster starts a new story. Sungyeol doesn't really pay much attention until an older man is interviewed. He says that life is full of answers.
Clouds are covering the city like a thick blanket. The rain beats down a little harder on his umbrella, but he doesn't really notice. His mind swims in the little puddles he tries to avoid.
Life is full of answers.
It rings in his ears like a speech he partially slept through in a philosophy lecture.
As thunder roars around him, Sungyeol grips his umbrella tighter and lets the storm of his mind drown out the rest of the day.
Sure, life is full of answers.
But what the fuck is the question?
∞
The question comes hours later as a revelation. Like all of his other revelations, Sungyeol finds it mixed in his food while bickering with Woohyun.
"Why are you such an asshole?" Sungyeol asks as he guides another spoonful of rice to his mouth.
Woohyun scoffs. "It's called being charming. You should try it sometime."
Sungyeol rolls his eyes. Then he pays attention. There's a mark on Woohyun's skin right above his collar bone. Woohyun tugs his shirt to cover it, but Sungyeol sees it anyway. It starts a new train of thought. Woohyun stops it before it goes too far.
"Shouldn't you be doing something?" The smile on Woohyun's face is ugly yet so intriguing.
Sungyeol drops his utensils and walks to the door with question in tow. Before he leaves to find one of life's many answers, he shows his gratitude in the best way he knows how.
The hand gesture brings another smile to Woohyun's face-this one more attractive-but it's his fingers that have Sungyeol's attention when the sentiment is returned.
"You're an asshole," Woohyun mutters like he's trying to keep it to himself and let everyone know at the same time.
"It's called being charming," Sungyeol shouts as he closes the door.
∞
Without a phone or Sunggyu to complain to, Sungyeol's head clouds up like the sky. The rain has stopped, and the cracks in the sidewalks hold water without question. But Sungyeol isn't that lucky.
Shouldn';t you be doing something?
He passes by the tents on the street that sell noodles and beer. It's not really what he needs right now. He needs to get away. He needs...
The traffic is halted as he crosses in front of them. Howon doesn't live too far from here, and he'll have just what Sungyeol needs.
∞
Howon opens the door and lets him in without caring about the time. Sungyeol wanders to the bean bag chair in the corner and sinks in.
"What's up?" Howon glides over to the dark couch, stretching his legs out across it.
Sungyeol plots out the finer details of his plan, but he ends up muttering nonsense. Luckily, Howon is able to keep up.
"You want to borrow my van?"
One simple nod is all it takes for Sungyeol to have keys in his hands.
"Take care of her," Howon warns.
∞
Sungyeol's quest calls for a gathering, the first in a few weeks. Howon demands everyone bring snacks and booze. Sungyeol notices that even boring stories come out with as much enthusiasm as campfire ghost stories when Howon tells them.
Dongwoo stops over first, arms full of lager and chips. Sungyeol smiles at him as he grabs the drinks.
"So, you thought about it?" Dongwoo asks. His face is hopeful.
Sungyeol nods, probably more than is needed. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."
"What offer?" Sunggyu asks as he bustles over, pulling his shoes off.
"Yeolie's gonna move in with me!"
Sungjong comes in on that, clapping his hands. Myungsoo just nods. Woohyun pops the top of a beer, carefully avoiding Sungyeol's gaze.
Howon appears from behind Sungyeol, patting his back a little harder than Sungyeol would've liked. Beers are passed around, bowls of snacks are placed on the table, and Sungyeol's eyes are stuck on Woohyun.
∞
Sungyeol puts his hands on the steering wheel and waits. It's seven o'clock on a Sunday morning, and Sunggyu's hands are against the frame of the driver's door.
"Is this about moving? You know you can stay with us for as long as you need, right?" Sunggyu's eyes, though barely visible, look sad.
"Like hell, he can," Woohyun says, elbows resting over the edge of the window rolled up halfway.
Sungyeol's fingers move to roll the window the rest of the way up, to block out Woohyun and his stupid remarks. Instead, Sungyeol sticks the key in the ignition. The roar of the engine pushes his friends behind the van. He watches them wave from the rear-view mirror.
Sunggyu looks like a mother sending her kid off to school for the first time. Dongwoo and Howon smile as if they always knew it would come to this. Myungsoo sticks his hand in the air like he's a rockstar saluting his fans. Woohyun doesn't wave, doesn't smile.
He puts it in drive and makes it a few miles down the road before he remembers something.
∞
"Sungjong, what the fuck are you doing here?"
Sungjong rubs his eyes and climbs into the front passenger seat. "I didn't want you to be alone."
Startled and suspicious, Sungyeol looks Sungjong over as he waits for the light to change.
"Look, it was after two this morning. In my defense, I had been drinking."
Sungyeol smirks. "Like that makes it any better. I guess, I'll take you to your apartment."
"No, I'm coming with you."
Sungjong's hands fidget in his lap, and he is biting his lower lip. Sungyeol decides that going by the apartment would be too much of a detour to his soul-searching.
∞
They pass Seoul's city limits before Sungjong says anything again.
"Why are you here?"
Sungyeol runs the reasons in his head and keeps his foot on the gas pedal. "Why are you?"
Sungjong frowns and turns to stare out of the window. His fingers never move too far from the cell phone in his lap. "I don't think it's working out."
His phone rings as if on cue. Sungjong ignores it, so Sungyeol tries to, as well.
When the silence fills the van again, Sungjong continues, "We never see each other anymore."
Sungyeol doesn't point out that Myungsoo just called. He just keeps driving.
∞
"You remember Myungsoo's days as a male model?" Sungyeol asks, hoping for one of Sungjong';s smiles.
Clear bulbs glow yellow, illuminating the mediocrity of midday traffic. The van is running low on fuel, but they are high on memories. Sungjong merely nods.
"Myungsoo was so bad, but the picture turned out alright," Sungyeol says. He takes an exit and pulls into a gas station.
"Thanks. He wasn't easy to work with." Sungjong's fingers trace the outline of his phone.
"You worked it out, though."
Sungjong nods again, this time with a smile. "Guess we did."
∞
Sungjong calls Myungsoo as Sungyeol pumps some gas into the van.
A mother shoves her daughter to walk more quickly when she sees the two guys in a serial-rapist-white van.
"Huh, I thought the red paint would have helped," Sungyeol says as he pulls onto the street.
Sungjong laughs.
∞
"Think we need to go back?"
Sungjong stares at him for a while. Sungyeol glances over to see what was wrong with the question.
"What?" he finally asks.
"You haven't figured out what you wanted to yet."
Sungyeol drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Maybe because I don't know what I want."
"You used to talk about doing things, and now you don't know?"
"I don't think I ever did."
Sungjong pops a piece of chocolate into his mouth. "Then, why worry about it now?"
∞
Sungjong sleeps most of the way back to Howon's. Sungyeol takes this as an opportunity to call Howon and let him know. They mostly talk about the quality of driving and the fuel Sungyeol put in and if there are any scratches or dents.
After hanging up, Sungyeol relaxes in his seat.
∞
It's dark when he parks. Sungjong is rubbing his eyes awake, and Howon is waving like an idiot from the front of his apartment building.
Myungsoo all but carries Sungjong out of the van; Sungjong doesn't seem to mind that much.
Sungyeol taps Myungsoo's shoulder when Sungjong is safely on the ground. "Bring my stuff over to Dongwoo's tomorrow. And don't think for one second that I won't know if you took something."
Myungsoo pokes him in the side. "Why would I want any of that shit?"
"Because you bought most of it," Sungjong says.
∞
"Is this everything?" Dongwoo asks as he plugs in Sungyeol's television.
Sungyeol wipes the screen with one of Dongwoo's old shirts. "Yeah, I think it is."
Dongwoo smiles and falls back on the couch. Sungyeol falls next to him, admiring his stuff intermingled with Dongwoo's. Apparently, the apartment can hold more than he originally thought.
"Looks good." Dongwoo rubs his chin on his right shoulder.
"I know I do," Sungyeol grins. Dongwoo smiles, too.
∞
Visiting Sunggyu is a must, but Sungyeol puts it off until later in the week. However, he finds himself knocking on the door the next day.
"Hey," he says when Woohyun opens the door.
Woohyun nods and moves aside so Sungyeol can move in. He also slips something into Sungyeol's hands.
"You found my phone?"
Woohyun rubs the back of his head and stares down at the floor. "Thought you might need it back. You got a few messages, by the way."
Sungyeol looks at his unread messages, most of them from Woohyun. His throat is a little tight, and the air isn't going to his lungs like it should be.
"About what happened..."
Woohyun cuts him off. "Don't."
Sungyeol cocks his head to the left to look at Woohyun, to really look at him. "What if I want to?"
Woohyun shrugs. "I'll text you sometime."
∞
Sungyeol walks to where Dongwoo is parked on the side of the street.
"Go okay?" he asks.
Sungyeol nods. "Better than I thought. Remind me to keep up with my phone."
Dongwoo chuckles. "No worries, man. I got you."
Part of the issue of achievement is to be able to set realistic goals, but that's one of the hardest things to do because you don't always know exactly where you're going, and you shouldn't.
-George Lucas
That was the quote that started it all.
For Z. Thanks for reading over my shoulder and stealing the chair when I got up, for understanding my crazy rants to music videos, for listening to our often one-sided late night talks, for everything.
This was originally labeled Great Wide Somewhere from a line in the song "Belle (Reprise)" from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. It was then known as Notover, mostly because of an inside joke about the music video on which this story is based ("Nothing's Over" by Infinite). I finally decided on the title when reading comments about Sungjong's introduction on the first episode of Days of Infinite.
If you reached the end and wondered why you wasted your time on this or thought this was going nowhere, then I'm sorry. This is mostly my feelings after school, when everyone has a plan for the future. All I could see were kids I once knew becoming adults, except they didn't understand that they didn't need everything figured out right then. It was all too fast, and I felt that during this.
Again, if you are angry, I offer cyber hugs and my condolences. Whatever your stance, thanks.