Falling.
Title: Falling
Genre: Angst
Pairing: KangTeuk
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Leeteuk was tired of being a failure of a leader, and with Kangin still in the army there was no one to catch him when he fell.
**100 SJ Fic Challenge**
001. Freefall, Leeteuk/Kangin
*****
He’s done
Leeteuk rips the battery out of his phone and throws both the flat rectangular battery and Optimus L3 at the wall. They clatter unceremoniously to the ground, where they stay while Leeteuk continues to tidy up his room. He can’t leave it messy for everyone to clean it up for him, he can’t have his dongsaengs waiting on him even after he’s gone. He’s already given away most of his valuables. Some to the loving fans that were so grateful for the gifts they fainted right there. Some to his oblivious and confused members so they’d know he was with them even when he wasn’t there physically. Some to his family back at home, because they were important too. The only ones he hadn’t given away yet were reserved for Kangin and Kangin only. He sighs. If Kangin were here, he’s sure nothing like this would be happening. But he can’t blame his not being good enough on Kangin, because he loves the younger man and he’s done nothing wrong anyways.
A group photo of Super Junior from every year they’ve been together sits in a stack on his desk, next to the small journal he’s kept ever since they debuted. Inside the journal lays precious secrets and thoughts, things he’d only ever share with Kangin. There’s more there, but his vision’s suddenly gone blurry and he can’t see them.
He has it all
But at the same time, has nothing
He rubs at his eyes and tries not to think of all the fans he and the others have acquired since 2005. They’ve always sold out at shows. The studios were never empty. Walking in public without getting noticed at all has become that of a magic show. The ever-faithful ELF, the ones that believed in them from the start. Leeteuk only wonders how they can believe so strongly when he’s lost all the faith and hope he has.
He tries not to remember his first time on stage, the first album they released...the first of anything, really. When it all began, no one thought they’d succeed. No one thought they’d make it. Super Junior was supposed to have been a failure from the start. But when they rocketed to the top, led by none other than himself, people’s heads started to turn and then they weren’t just Super Junior, they were Super Junior, the top idol group in Asia. Not to mention the biggest. It’s a shame they’re about to lose one more member. If things go on like this and people keep leaving, Super Junior will no longer be the biggest, and maybe not even the best. But okay, because as long as they keep the members they’re left with, things will be fine. He’s nothing but a burden to his group and they can afford to lose one more member. There will still be ten of them, if Heechul and Kangin stay after their military service. Ten. That’s enough to keep them at the top, plus two more, Henry and Zhou Mi. Though he’s never really talked to them enough - something he regrets now that he won’t be able to talk to them at all - they’re still a part of Super Junior. So that’s twelve. That’s enough.
But back to the point, Leeteuk started as a failure and will end as a failure.
He’s done
He turns away from the desk. He doesn’t want to re-read the note he’s left for Kangin one last time, doesn’t want to look at the apology letter he’s written for the other members. Doesn’t want to see the items that were once precious but were now as meaningless as he was. The framed picture of him and Kangin, the journal, the group photos, the first pair of drumsticks he’s ever gotten. Those things belong to Kangin now.
Leeteuk picks up the phone and battery that have tumbled to the floor, places them on the desk as well. Kangin can have it if he wants it, though the machine is nothing of real importance or value, it was only something to contact people with. But maybe Kangin will take it, simply because the former owner was Leeteuk.
So done
The elevator ride is shorter than usual. He’s been up here a few times before with the members ,to look at the stars and grab a breath of fresh air, but even then the ride feels short. Too short. It won’t matter soon, though. Nothing will matter. And if things still manage to matter after he goes over the edge, he’ll drag his bruised body up all fifteen flights of stairs if he has to, just to throw himself down again. He’s failed at so much, there’s no way he’s going to let himself fail this one simple task.
He peers over the ledge. The building’s higher than it used to be.
No one can stop him, anyways
One more step is all it will take.
One more step and he’s gone from it all.
Away from Siwon, whose body is too perfect for him, the leader, to keep up with.
Away from Yesung, whose voice is too damn amazing for him, the leader, to match.
Away from Eunhyuk and Donghae, who were handpicked by the dance gods while he, the leader, wasn’t.
Away from Shindong, who could really make people laugh while he, the leader, couldn’t.
Away from Kyuhyun, who’s so young and so talented and and so handsome where he, the leader, isn’t.
Away from Sungmin, who’s tough yet cute while he, the leader, is somewhat wimpy and terrible at aegyo.
And finally, away from Kangin, who was too good to be true.
So now he’s falling
The feeling is marvelous, and Leeteuk kicks himself for not choosing a higher building. It’s almost as if he can fly, but he knows that when he lands, he’s grounded forever.
One direction
He looks up because he doesn’t want to look at the ground. It’s rushing up at him too fast and he wishes he was back at the top, but oh well, because there’s nothing he can do about it now. There’s people gathering below, he can feel it. He can hear their anguished cries as they watch an angel with broken wings fall from the sky. He hopes he doesn’t splat. He hope nothing spills out onto the street. Or maybe he does, because then maybe it would be better that his face was so mangled it was unrecognizable. Too peaceful in death. A still chest. Milky skin gone pale. Maybe it would be better if his friends didn’t have to see that.
Down, down, down
Soon he’ll be nothing but a news story. Nothing but a memory. A bad, bad, memory.
Now he’s gone.
Genre: Angst
Pairing: KangTeuk
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Leeteuk was tired of being a failure of a leader, and with Kangin still in the army there was no one to catch him when he fell.
**100 SJ Fic Challenge**
001. Freefall, Leeteuk/Kangin
*****
He’s done
Leeteuk rips the battery out of his phone and throws both the flat rectangular battery and Optimus L3 at the wall. They clatter unceremoniously to the ground, where they stay while Leeteuk continues to tidy up his room. He can’t leave it messy for everyone to clean it up for him, he can’t have his dongsaengs waiting on him even after he’s gone. He’s already given away most of his valuables. Some to the loving fans that were so grateful for the gifts they fainted right there. Some to his oblivious and confused members so they’d know he was with them even when he wasn’t there physically. Some to his family back at home, because they were important too. The only ones he hadn’t given away yet were reserved for Kangin and Kangin only. He sighs. If Kangin were here, he’s sure nothing like this would be happening. But he can’t blame his not being good enough on Kangin, because he loves the younger man and he’s done nothing wrong anyways.
A group photo of Super Junior from every year they’ve been together sits in a stack on his desk, next to the small journal he’s kept ever since they debuted. Inside the journal lays precious secrets and thoughts, things he’d only ever share with Kangin. There’s more there, but his vision’s suddenly gone blurry and he can’t see them.
He has it all
But at the same time, has nothing
He rubs at his eyes and tries not to think of all the fans he and the others have acquired since 2005. They’ve always sold out at shows. The studios were never empty. Walking in public without getting noticed at all has become that of a magic show. The ever-faithful ELF, the ones that believed in them from the start. Leeteuk only wonders how they can believe so strongly when he’s lost all the faith and hope he has.
He tries not to remember his first time on stage, the first album they released...the first of anything, really. When it all began, no one thought they’d succeed. No one thought they’d make it. Super Junior was supposed to have been a failure from the start. But when they rocketed to the top, led by none other than himself, people’s heads started to turn and then they weren’t just Super Junior, they were Super Junior, the top idol group in Asia. Not to mention the biggest. It’s a shame they’re about to lose one more member. If things go on like this and people keep leaving, Super Junior will no longer be the biggest, and maybe not even the best. But okay, because as long as they keep the members they’re left with, things will be fine. He’s nothing but a burden to his group and they can afford to lose one more member. There will still be ten of them, if Heechul and Kangin stay after their military service. Ten. That’s enough to keep them at the top, plus two more, Henry and Zhou Mi. Though he’s never really talked to them enough - something he regrets now that he won’t be able to talk to them at all - they’re still a part of Super Junior. So that’s twelve. That’s enough.
But back to the point, Leeteuk started as a failure and will end as a failure.
He’s done
He turns away from the desk. He doesn’t want to re-read the note he’s left for Kangin one last time, doesn’t want to look at the apology letter he’s written for the other members. Doesn’t want to see the items that were once precious but were now as meaningless as he was. The framed picture of him and Kangin, the journal, the group photos, the first pair of drumsticks he’s ever gotten. Those things belong to Kangin now.
Leeteuk picks up the phone and battery that have tumbled to the floor, places them on the desk as well. Kangin can have it if he wants it, though the machine is nothing of real importance or value, it was only something to contact people with. But maybe Kangin will take it, simply because the former owner was Leeteuk.
So done
The elevator ride is shorter than usual. He’s been up here a few times before with the members ,to look at the stars and grab a breath of fresh air, but even then the ride feels short. Too short. It won’t matter soon, though. Nothing will matter. And if things still manage to matter after he goes over the edge, he’ll drag his bruised body up all fifteen flights of stairs if he has to, just to throw himself down again. He’s failed at so much, there’s no way he’s going to let himself fail this one simple task.
He peers over the ledge. The building’s higher than it used to be.
No one can stop him, anyways
One more step is all it will take.
One more step and he’s gone from it all.
Away from Siwon, whose body is too perfect for him, the leader, to keep up with.
Away from Yesung, whose voice is too damn amazing for him, the leader, to match.
Away from Eunhyuk and Donghae, who were handpicked by the dance gods while he, the leader, wasn’t.
Away from Shindong, who could really make people laugh while he, the leader, couldn’t.
Away from Kyuhyun, who’s so young and so talented and and so handsome where he, the leader, isn’t.
Away from Sungmin, who’s tough yet cute while he, the leader, is somewhat wimpy and terrible at aegyo.
And finally, away from Kangin, who was too good to be true.
So now he’s falling
The feeling is marvelous, and Leeteuk kicks himself for not choosing a higher building. It’s almost as if he can fly, but he knows that when he lands, he’s grounded forever.
One direction
He looks up because he doesn’t want to look at the ground. It’s rushing up at him too fast and he wishes he was back at the top, but oh well, because there’s nothing he can do about it now. There’s people gathering below, he can feel it. He can hear their anguished cries as they watch an angel with broken wings fall from the sky. He hopes he doesn’t splat. He hope nothing spills out onto the street. Or maybe he does, because then maybe it would be better that his face was so mangled it was unrecognizable. Too peaceful in death. A still chest. Milky skin gone pale. Maybe it would be better if his friends didn’t have to see that.
Down, down, down
Soon he’ll be nothing but a news story. Nothing but a memory. A bad, bad, memory.
Now he’s gone.