Obsession;; Chapter 4.
OBSESSION;; R
last part hallelujah beware the creepiness ends up contagious kwhaha
thirty-six.
Rehearsals go on a bit too long and everyone's a bit agitated, tensions high at the lack of coordination. Jonghyun sits on the side, mostly watching everyone go on and off stage, irritated at his bum leg for still being burdensome and keeping him away from fulfilling his stage presence to the fullest. Every so often someone comes by and sits with for him for awhile, watching the drama unfold before leaving when they are called up. Things get particularly soapy when Sungmin comes and sits by him, pinching Jonghyun's shoulders for comfort.
"I wish we had popcorn," Jonghyun whispers and Sungmin nods in silent agreement, feeling the live movie in front of them up on stage. Boa's storming off, hands flailing in the air, her petite figure fiercer when she storms past the staff at the bottom of the steps.
"If you keep the sound system like that, you can forget about me actually going on stage tonight."
And like that she's gone, the staff hurriedly calling the next people up for practice. Jonghyun's distracted by a bro punching fight with Sungmin and he almost jumps in his seat when he hears Jessica's voice blaring on the speakers. It's familiar, but he frowns confused, the song not on the playlist he remembers.
"What?" he slips out when Onew steps on stage after her, both breaking into song, belting out the lines of the One Year Later ballad. "But that's not in the line-up."
"Didn't you check the line-up this morning? They've been screwing it up all day, they are going to set this concert back a year. Later. Haha."
Jonghyun doesn't find this very funny at all, and he fakes a smile. He can't quiet digest the meaningful soulful eyes Onew is delivering and Jessica reciprocates to; how it's his hyung, his very close hyung constantly around her, finding any excuse to be with her, fighting for the void in her that Taecyeon left, he thinks. His stomach lurches and he frowns, and Sungmin gives his thigh a misleaded squeeze.
"Cheer up, Jjong-ah. Your leg will be better in no time."
He spits on the concert floor, not surprised when flecks of blood are mixed in his saliva.
thirty-seven.
The concert wasn't as fun as he thought it would be, everyone much more focused and composed than relaxed and joyful, the irritation of the last minute rehearsal stages taking a toll on everyone.
He sits at the bar of the hotel club, strobe lights beaming around him, bass tones blaring behind on the club floor and he can practically feel the heat and sweat of everyone mixing into a soup on his back. His head is kind of beating, beating hard and it doesn't help that Jungmo and Yesung are sitting on either side of him, heckling each other and occasionally him, ordering drinks for him whenever the current one at hand becomes empty.
He never says no, quite liking the fill each sip brings him, even with his head convulsing and blood rushing. He's no Onew, and he knows he's reached his limit a long time ago, but hey, his expertise on how to throw up with no one realizing has been perfected over the past six months, so he drinks and drinks while his hyungs continue to make their careless jokes overhead.
It gets tiresome when he downs his number endless shot though, so he finally stumbles out, onto the dance floor cutting through with solid determination. It doesn't take him long to reach her, recognizing the sway of that figure immediately, the pattern of her hair flying with her body gyrating to the beats, just like her dance practices.
"I could see you a mile away," he says really without thinking, wrapping an arm around her waist, forcing the surrounding guys around who thought they had any chance with her to scatter off.
"Someone will see," is all she responds with, and they both assess the situation, bodyguards, fellow SM towners and staff all piled on to the dance floor with the commoners. No one's going to pay attention, they aren't that important, he convinces himself silly, sliding his other arm around her torso, nuzzling onto her shoulder - his favorite thing to do. She slips out of his grip, but not harshly, turning around to face him.
"Jonghyun, come on. Not here. Not tonight."
He can barely hear or make out the words spilling out of that pretty little mouth, so he leans in closer, both of them still, not bothering to keep up a facade of pretend dance. Everyone around them is still swaying, he can see Krystal watching him a few feet behind her sister, but it doesn't matter, Jessica is full focused on him waiting for his response.
"You looked beautiful on stage tonight. Still do." She blushes and he courageously lets a finger glide down that porcelain body, skin so pale it twinkles in the lights, skin so radiant he can feel the heat prickling in his nerves. She doesn't twitch or run when he slides his finger down to her thigh, and then up a little, lifting it up under the hem of her dress, and the muscles in his cheeks tighten when she closes her eyes to his feel, so he slides higher.
"I'm over you." he jokes really, and she snaps back to reality in an instant, unreadable just like that.
"I don't understand you at all anymore."
"I don't understand you. And this insatiable thing you hold over me. I wish you would stop. Just leave me alone," he slurs the last words, head spinning again and he feels angry, snappy and he can't figure out why she's looking at him like he's the devil.
"Me stop? You're the one harassing me on the dance floor."
"Am I supposed to stand afar and watch? Just like I watched you tonight," he slides another finger up her thigh, as the song changes into a high electronic rave, "sing with him, sing like you were in love, look like you were in love. How many times am I supposed to just sit back and watch like everyone tells me to. I'm sick of it, I'm sick of being a good boy." He's slurring his words now, shouting some of them and he's afraid he's making a scene by the way Jessica moves his fingers away and steps back, grabbing his hands.
"If you want to tell me how you feel in your drunken stupor, fine. Get it out of your system, great! But not here, Jonghyun, not now." And with that she leads them out of the overbaring crowd, past her quizzical sister, past some buzzed Super Junior sunbaenim, he really can't tell; they are bumping into people right and left and going at such a fast pace, his headache is only induced further.
thirty-eight.
He's on some bed, pure white, egyptian cotton thread feeling, cream pillows fluffly and inviting. He's not sure how he got there, but his mind is euphoric. An ecstasy filled smirk plays on his mouth and he rustles his feet into the sheets.
"You wanted to talk so let's talk."
Jessica's standing on the side of the bed, one foot tapping on the hardwood hotel room floor, arms crossed. She looks almost motherly and it's pretty comical how pressed she looks.
"Let's sleep, this has to be the best bed ever. My head feels like it's sinking. Wow."
"Your head feels like that because it's big. Look, Jonghyun I think it's best if we don't talk to each other anymore unless we have to. It's just better that way, I don't think I can do this anymore-"
"These pillows are insane, you think I can smuggle some into my carry on when we go home tomorrow?"
"Jonghyun, I pulled you up here for a reason - if you aren't going to take me seriously, you can leave, the door is that way."
Her efforts are futile, Jonghyun finds that unbearably high pitch more cuter than ever when he's piss drunk.
"I have trouble with doors. Come here." He pulls her over the bed, but she refuses.
"Jjong-ah, no." So whiny, utterly whiny, but he laughs when he tugs her a little too hard and she topples over him, looking down, eyes wide and more like a puppy than ever. He keeps his arms on hers, nonchalantly rubbing them up and down, not happy with the coldness of her bare arms.
"I'd wish you wear more clothes."
They stay like this for a minute, just staring at each other, messy and disarray in between the mass of pillows. Jessica gets up all too soon, back to her original position of standing, this time grabbing Jonghyun's arms pulling him reluctantly to sit.
"Jonghyun, we can't be like this."
"I need you," he groans, frowning the cutest pout he knows he has inside him. He shifts to sit at the edge of the bed, pulling her in between his legs, arms around her waist just like he likes it. She stands there, placing her hands on the broadness of his shoulders, sighing. "Why can't we be like this?"
"Because you're with her, because you keep breaking my heart."
Her voice is but a whisper.
"You keep breaking mine. How do you think I felt tonight watching you pour your soul out to Onew, or the way you kept avoiding me on stage. That hurt."
He's thinking too much again, sleepy and his drunken stupor coming back again slurring his words.
"That's not real."
"It feels real, in my fucking heart it feels real. How about all those times I had to read about you and Taecyeon-"
"That was your fault, that was your fucking fault Jonghyun!" She pushes him, hard- but he keeps her in place, "you're the one traipsing around with your girlfriend, not giving a second thought about how it affected me, never looking back."
"Well how about the fact that you took a part that musical?"
"That's the only reason you think I was in it?"
"Not only did it kill me every day when Onew would come home late, blissed out of his mind from rehearsing all night with you and knowing he was touching you here," he presses his hand on her inner thigh, "and here," he moves his palm onto her stomach, "and here," he rests it under the cup of breasts. "for dancing. Yeah, just dancing."
"Don't you trust him? He's your band member for goodness sake." She's wriggling away now, so Jonghyun stands up, face flustered with heat.
"I don't trust anyone when they are around you. Don't you see what you've done to me? I've become a mess. I don't know who I am anymore, I can't tell what's real and what's fake. To think that you were doing and seeing Taecyeon for some stupid play and for what- for more rumors to erupt about you, shit drives me crazy, you and him, all because of that meaningless play-"
A sharp pain blasts on his cheek, stinging red from her slap.
"Let's face it - you only want me because you can't have me."
"I want you because you're you,"
"If it's that easy, how come you still haven't broken up with her yet?" She's crying again, tears welling in her face, slapping Jonghyun's chest repeatedly. "How come you won't break up with her? Tell me!"
"I can't. I don't know if you'll be waiting for me when I do. I'm scared of being alone."
"So what? Is that it? You just want a fuck buddy before you move on to the next? Someone to keep the bed warm at night?" She's sobbing and wailing loudly and unforgivably, Jonghyun can barely recognize her face.
"Don't do this to me, don't act like you don't know," he edges her towards the bed, fighting back her every slap, "how I feel about you. I told you, I need you, I need you now."
She squeals and cries harder, still slapping him hard when they fall on the bed. He ignores the whiplashes on his chest, caressing her supple skin from toes to head, hands roaming everywhere with no mercy, no conscious.
"You only need me to be inside of you,"
She gasps. He's drifting in her arms, fingers intertwined in the ballet shoe chain around her neck. He's not really sure if that's his leg pressing down on hers, if that stifled groan is erupting from him when he can feel just how tight she is inside with the width of his finger, or if she's moaning when he inches his finger farther and far as he can go. Fingernails are dug into his backside, scratches clawing all over his red fleshed chest, and is she saying no, no, no, no or yes, yes, yes, yes? Ears drop into the pit of his stomach, and god does her skin feel so supple in his touch, so milky and tempting-
"No, no, no."
He's so turned on, clutching on to breasts, skin pinched, his own, yearning, anxious, ready and it's all he can hear when she's arching her back, liquids spilling onto his fingers, warm breath, goosebumps engulfing, raw skin, musty spices mixing with ultra fragrant. It's all he needs.
He finds himself at the doorframe, half-undressed, bruises marked everywhere on his chest, cheeks red and sore, a tormented and tear-stricken Jessica looking up at him, heathen and enraged. He can't really remember why, aside from his head swirling and the numbness in his stomach.
"Don't you dare ever try to fuck me when you're drunk Jonghyun. Or better yet, even when you're sober."
A hash slam to his face. All he sees are the splinters on the magnificent cream colored door.
thirty-nine.
His head spins on the airplane home, and Minho doesn't stop harassing him for an hour, questioning him on the multiple bruises he's sporting. But Jonghyun's mind is completely hazy and he's not sure what parts of last night he dreamt up and what was brought on by the shots he had, so he spends a good remainder of the ride heaving in the toilet. He sees Jessica's arm down the aisle once, and just the pure porcelain-ness of it is enough to trigger a tiny portion of his memory so bad he goes back to the bathroom and doesn't leave for twenty minutes.
forty.
It's no surprise when he returns home with another red stained cheek after breaking up with her. Minho doesn't bother questioning him when he comes home after returning from his place, socking him affectionately, quietly telling him it's for the best. The boys sit at the table, eating their noodles in silence, except for when Taemin quietly mentions,
"You guys weren't right for each other anyways."
forty-one.
No one tells him he's sick, that he needs professional help if it exists. He's miserable, self-loathing and spends the next two weeks trying to recall what happened in the hotel room. It's all a blur, but he distinctly remembers the feel of Jessica with his one finger and the feel of urgently wanting more. He can't remember what he did to get more, if he did get more and he's grave with the horrible thought of what he might have done.
He can't reflect much when half the members of SNSD enter their waiting room backstage, screaming and wailing at the boys, cooing over Taemin's permanent cuteness, Minho's handsomeness, Onew's charm and Key's snark. There must be a gloomy overcast above Jonghyun because none of the girls attempt at engaging him in a conversation, only for Tiffany to side-eye him occasionally.
It's all for the best as he runs over and over in his mind the perfect apology he will say to Jessica, the one he owes and he wants it to be meaningful and pertinent, so he recites it until he fumbles. Sooyoung enters the room hand in hand with a frail Jessica not too much later, and his stomach instantly lurches at the sight.
He's not sure she sees him, mixing with the crowd on the other end, voices overlapping at a high decibel as everyone tries to outtalk over each other.
Someone screams outside about DBSK going onstage and how SME needs to show their united support so everyone files out, excited and thrilled to watch but Jonghyun stays back, finding Jessica's company when she takes a seat onto the low sofa with him.
He starts rehearsing the words in his head, reciting them mindlessly, but they never come out and Jessica just sits there, waiting. She huffs impatiently, sidling into his side, breathing into ear.
"Are you alright?" he sputters. She's un-normal, eyes sedated, mouth in a frown, slender hand groping his bulky thigh. "I-I'm sorry. I don't know what I did. I was drunk. I'm sorry."
He hates himself for not sounding genuine, for not remembering his speech, but she's advancing on him, stroking his hair, giggling madly, hand frisking higher, a sheen spreading over him.
"What's up with you?" he tries brushing her hands away, but she refuses, the situation feeling very similiar.
"I've been drinking. I wanted to be like you."
His heart breaks into twenty pieces.
"I'm so, sorry. I'm a mess, I didn't mean for you to be a mess. Please, forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive, Jjong-ah." She whispers huskily, and inches even closer until her legs are practically on his, "It was stupid of me to stop you. So stupid," she unzips his pants daringly, even more daringly dives her hand in, immediately fondling without a second thought.
"Shit," is all he can say, temporarily blinded as her palm takes the whole of his dick and strokes it, dedicated; face appeased by his chin, peering up at him waiting for his approval. He can't fake it, his whole body's irreversibly and wrongfully aroused with her touch and it gets worse by the millisecond.
"Truth is, Jonghyun - I was enjoying it so much," she shifts her position so that she's turned on his lap now, her hand pumping vigorously. His mind is a blur again, images speeding like a bullet, unable to catch to one and the heat is rising, cheekbones sharp, temples throbbing. "I think I like the hold you have over me Jonghyun. I liked it when you wouldn't stop fingering me that night. I should have let you fuck me right then, like you wanted."
Jonghyun opens his eyes, unaware that they were shut, looking up at her, little beads of sweat falling from her forehead onto his.
"I want you to fuck me right here, right now. Let's get even."
"What?" His stomach lurches, reprehensibly sick and frenzied, grabs her hand out of his crotch but she growls, shoving it in again, refusing to stop riding him, her eyes narrowed in slits. "This isn't right, oh, god, what have I done to you, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." he says in between sharp breaths and heavy sobs and she's stroking him even harder, waiting for him to come, hands malicious.
"I'm fucked up. All I think about is you."
That haunting smile returns on her lips and she takes the oppurtinity when alarm strikes to throb and hump her legs against his, riding him while pumping him and the tension formed drives him up the walls, he tries reciting the apology in his head again, getting stuck on the phrase 'It was never my intention to hurt you.'
"You have to..." He's panting now, "believe me, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll leave you alone, I'm sorry."
"We can be fucked up in the head together, Jonghyun." His fists unclench from her back, and he throws his head back to the wall, sweat and make-up running down his sore neck, body relaxing against his will as he spills himself into her hand.
"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, it's not supposed to be like this." He mumurs over and over, feeling the weight of her body on him suddenly, legs sore, feet reaching the ground.
forty-two.
Things blur, doors open, nasal shrieks consume the room, angry dry stabs halt the breathing in his chest. Someone's crying, tables are being shoved, screeched across the floor, he swears he hears the sound of a million mirrors breaking for dramatic effect. It's all so hazy, but he finds himself being shoved against the wall by a diplomatic Minho, multi-tasking and keeping Tiffany at arms length from lunging at Jonghyun.
"Stay away from her, you freak! Haven't you had enough fun torturing her, making her cry, practically sabotaging her musical? She stopped eating, stopped sleeping because of you and now you're doing this to her where anyone can see?" Tiffany's boiling, screaming and he's at a loss for what to do.
"No," he hears Jessica whimper from the sofa in the daze, but he can't see her over Tiffany's raging head and his blood pressure goes on the rise.
"It's not like that, Tiffany noona, it's not! Tell her," he tries to break away but Minho's a professional at grasping him in chokeholds and Tiffany's lunging at him again, engraged, nails sharp at the ready to claw. Her quick swift movement is enough for him to see behind her as Onew and Sooyoung enter the room, coddling Jessica immeediately and now he's enraged at the way Onew barely sees him, only sees her, takes her side, not his, not his bandmate, not his friend. Jonghyun sees he's full of concern, ignoring Sooyoung's heartstricken face, only sees Onew's oblivious one, bent over and meddlesome. It's all he needs to break out of Minho's hold and away from scratchy Tiffany whose lungs are still getting a work out with every belt.
"Stop making her cry over you, Jonghyun! Just leave her alone, she deserves better!"
"You don't know what happened, Tiffany, so stay out of it!"
"I don't need to know what happened, you asshole! All I know is Sooyoung tells me Jessica's cries to sleep every night screaming your name."
Tiffany chocks a breath, spitting into Jonghyun's face. He ignores her, wipes his face and goes over to the sofa, Sooyoung kneeling over Jessica's lap, Onew holding both girls steady, acting like he's the saint prince of all the oceans combined. He's not the perpretator, Jonghyun knows it in his heart, he knows it but his emotions are volatile and take over for the last time as he prances out of Minho's last reach.
"Leave her alone!" Tiffany yelps.
"Jonghyun-ah, calm down man. Let's all just talk this out."
"She doesn't belong to you, any of you!" is all he manages to sputter out, clenched fist meeting the softness of Onew's cheekbone, all he can remember before he blacks out.
forty-three.
Jonghyun feels pleasant in his temporary and forced break from idoldom. For the next three weeks, Taemin sneaks him foreign chocolates at night after he swallows his momentous horse pills, Key nags and insists on doing all his laundry and fluffing his pillows whenever he pretends to be asleep, and when Minho isn't watching him from the corner of his eyes like a hawk, he gives in and kicks Jonghyun's ass in every video game known to man-kind.
The doctor says he's on the road to recovery when Jonghyun confesses in secret admittance that he's been doing a lot of self-reflection and philosophizing his feelings through meaningful lyrics, but he still avoids Onew like the plague around the dorm and it takes him three overnights to finally finish the lyrics to the song he's been penning.
forty-four.
"I'm sorry, hyung. I'm so sorry."
Bows on the floor with a proper angle, hopes dedicated in his moves, hopes it's enough for forgiveness. Onew looks as gentle as ever, bending on the floor to him, bringing him for a strong and compassionate embrace, the lines in his back and hearty chuckle from his throat all the comfort Jonghyun needs to know he's immediately forgiven.
"I'm killed myself alive hyung. Over her." he sobs. "I don't know why, she's just - her."
"Sometimes, we lose ourselves immensely because we know what it's like to be lost." They are still kneeling on the floor, but Jonghyun pauses in between sobs to gaze at Onew's wise demeanor. "And for some, you; you lose yourself because you know she's the one you love. The only one you ever will. And that scares you."
"Hyung."
"It's okay to be scared Jonghyun. It doesn't make you lost or any less alone. You have us, after all. And you will always have her, somewhere." He jabs a thick finger into Jonghyun's chest, symbolism askew with a cheesy grin attached.
"You're like Yoda, Jinki hyung."
forty-five.
He's not sure if it's a dream, but he sneaks into their dorm, secret key noted, climbs into her bed, arms wrapped around her, feet intertwined, skin upon skin. It's pleasant because he can hear her light snores (what he doesn't realize is his overpowers hers the second he falls alseep), can smell the fresh baby powder beneath her clothes from her night shower, can feel the steady calmness of her heart next to him. And then they wake up together when the sunlight hits her bed from the window, and Sooyoung is across from them deep in slumber and grinding her teeth, and they laugh, and hug instead, and she teases in his ear, licking it a little before she latches on to his torso with an innocent massage and there's nothing he would like more than to fall back into bed and play a little more, but it's time for him to go, so she whimpers sadly, beggingly,
"Please. Stay with me forever."
And then they kiss, ever so softly, so soft it's like a heart melt and he squeezes her hand, expecting it to turn into lush piles of white chocolate he can swim in.
forty-six.
"I like this melody."
She purrs silently, head bobbing with every key he strikes. They sit in silence like this, note after note until she sighs, leaning over and places her head on his shoulder, the weight of the world crashing down. He stops playing the piano, anxiety in his gulps.
"If I could take it all back, I would."
"Do you think it's possible for us to be friends, Jjong-ah?"
"We'd have to have been friends to begin with."
"Here,"
She pulls the chain off her neck, fisting it and puts into his chest, but he refuses.
"Keep it. It was a congratulations present, not one symbolizing ownership."
He wrangles the piece of paper out of his back pocket, sliding it over the mahogany carvings of the grand piano.
"The song you couldn't finish, noona." She picks it up, and silence befalls them again, and he can tell she's reading it quickly, then slowly before she reaches the end, and then repeating it all over again.
"It's perfect."
A single tear itched with salt traces the lines down her face. He watches it, mesmerized. It's like black flames of smoke erupt around them creating the biggest still in time.
"This doesn't change anything though. Things can't be that simple."
"I know."
forty-seven.
Weeks pass, and his bare feet squeak across the floorboards, while he tousles on his hair carelessly, rubbing his bare stomach ready to fill it. It's cold so he rushes to the kitchen, sky beaming through the living room window, which is a rarity so early. No one ever opens the blinds. He tugs at his sweats, rubbing his eyes, mouth agape when he enters the aroma-filled kitchen.
Taemin and Onew are sitting at the table, glasses filled with orange juice, smiles filled with content and their stomachs being filled to the brim with delicious food.
"Noona is making us American style breakfast."
Taemin's chirpy and full of glee when he directs the attention at Jonghyun, whose looking at Onew and then at the stranger surprisingly not burning down the house at the stove.
"It's the only thing I can actually make, sadly."
"Did you..." he points, confused trying to make the correlation, but Onew just dismisses him, smiling and taking a swig of his juice.
"It's a shame Key and Minho decided to sleep in today, I really can't remember the last time I had such a good helping of french toast."
"Eat more, Jinki-ah, I'm going to make some more after I finish making these sausages."
She turns around, glowing serenely, motioning for Jonghyun to sit. He complies confused, grabbing the fork and plate nearest him, cautiously putting food on his plate. Piles of fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, toast and hash browns array the table, and he takes a bite of the eggs, happy at how good it tastes.
Taemin starts a hum in between chews, and Onew laughs, joining in and before Jonghyun can question, Jessica joins in too, her sweet voice making a beautiful melody bewteen the trio. She walks to Jonghyun's side of the table, leans over and placing the sausages on the middle, suggesting for Taemin to eat as many to his heart's content.
"What does this mean?" Jonghyun whispers barely in her ear, lips caught up in the strands until she moves away and takes a seat of her own across from Onew and on the other side of Jonghyun.
She doesn't answer him, filling a plate of her own with food but he's satisfied when she's smiles warmly, readable, and he sees the familiar chain around her neck barely showing underneath her shirt. The four of them eat in silence, enjoying each other's company and every so often Jessica slides her feet upon his, energy filling him with every touch and he footsies her back with a grin. And when she thinks the others aren't looking as they joke around with their food, she sneaks a hand onto his bare chest, playfully caressing his succinct happy trail.
He still can't register if this is real or not, waiting for his totem to spin. But he doesn't have one.
--- end!!!
realize he never says jessica's name except for once? haha. i think i rely on foreshadowing too much to make a story and this was so cliche and ooc lol sry