Behind the Scenes/Kpop_Het Dump
collection of the fics i wrote for the kpop_het behind the scenes challenge. posting on my own journal for easy access! & yes, i need to update my masterlist, i know. :/
Panda Lights, Jonghyun/Jessica
Everything was easier in the mirror.
Her reflection was honest, unforgiving, didn't voice an opinion back. She practiced it too, the pauses between her words, the straightforward look of dismissal. Breaking up was something she had been somewhat of an expert in doing, but when it came to Kim Jonghyun, all set rules went out the window. Her reflection told her she was ready to do this, ready for battle.
Her reflection was a bit of a liar.
His mouth opens in ecstasy when she meets up with him, outside a coffee shop, not even giving him the gratitude to go inside, take a seat, order something black - make niceties. And then he laughs when her words come out, perfectly rehearsed and yet not one ounce of genuine. He gives a hearty laugh, punches her shoulder in some fashion that only friends would do. Jessica is not sure what to make of it.
"I mean it," she whispers defiantly. "I don't love you. Never had."
"Okay," he nods his head and closes his eyes in peace in what could surely be taken as an expression of mockery. "If that's what you want to believe." And then he walks away, walks into the coffee store as if that's what was really meant to happen all along. She watches him mournfully through the windows, the small arch of his back hunched in his white hoodie over the counter as he orders a large black coffee, her favorite, from the cute server at the bartender. He doesn't mean to flirt, it's just his nature, and Jessica catches the faint gleam of delight from the waitress after Jonghyun finishes his order and descends to a table by the window Jessica stands outside of.
When the coffee comes, he doesn't come outside to bring it to her in one last hope of reconciliation. The winter winds pick up and Jessica feels her heart fly away in a tizzy.
She tries again, months later when they bump into each other at some nondescript event. His appearance is more svelte and mature; she notices when he takes her in for a casual hug like the friends they were supposed to be.
"You look good," he says first and Jessica feels self-conscious when he does, suddenly hyper aware of every mole on her body.
"You too." he smiles in great stride, placing a hand on her forearm in a friendly hold. She recalls what she looked like in her reflection, the lies her mirror spit back out at her that morning. His hand lingers in soothing, circular, stroking, friendly motions. His gaze doesn't fade or deter from her, it never did, mostly because he could read her better than she could ever imagine to read herself. He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for her to pull her arm away in refusal. "Friends?"
I hate you, she contextualizes, not saying the words actually out loud. Jonghyun reaches over and pulls her into another, slightly more personal hug and she finds herself savoring the moment when his arms wrap around her waist, his chin tucking itself into the crook of her daunting neck for a second too long, cologne heavy on her clothes, and his fingers trickling over her collarbones for a minute touch when they pull away. Jonghyun grins mischievously and Jessica's sure it's the exact moment her mirror at home breaks.
"Friends."
Growing Up With You Would Be Easy to Do, Onew/Luna
"My life is such a rom-com," Luna groans, stomping her feet in place a little, "embarrassingly so."
"So what. We've made it this far, you should just accept the happy ending that's being written for us. Or you know, that you can rewrite yourself at any given moment." Onew chuckles. Luna hates it, hates the way he's so obviously enjoying her shriveling up pride, hates the way he's hovering over her so that she can see his nostrils flaring up in gloating pleasure, hates how his over enthusiastic blue tie is sitting on top of his collared shirt so obviously crooked. She reaches up to fix it, holding the knot extra tight on purpose so that he loses his breath for a few seconds. He still smiles.
"Remember, looks are everything. You must act like you're in love with me and want to father me five children," she tightens his tie even tighter when he nods furiously, "and that our mutual retirement goals are to retire in a secluded house right by the beach at Jeju Island where we will farm a patch of tomatoes together and donate the profits to underprivileged kids in Uganda."
"Relax, I got this," Onew pats Luna's bangs affectionately, coddling a couple of strands with extra care.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" Luna pulls back. "I didn't put that move in your study notes."
"Public displays of affection are totally normal between two people pretending to be in love, the least you can do is let me reciprocate your rehearsed hugs and high fives," Onew feigns interest and drops his right elbow into a robotic gesture, "no need to make this whole love thing such a chore Lu-Na-Na. Now let's get on with it."
The wedding goes well and all five people sitting at their table are gullible and believe Luna's exaggerated story of how Onew and her fell in love during their college years but broke up because Onew wanted other fine things in life before only realizing a year ago that he was truly, madly and deeply in love with Luna all along and no other woman on the planet could even dare to come close. She tells the story in small increments, drinking wine and pausing at all the right moments, Onew panging along when she nudges him to, giving her apologetic stares when the story calls for it.
"I especially liked the part where you told them all I was debating whether or not I was gay in my 3rd year of college before I saw you across the way in that tight red mini-dress that made me literally see straight." Onew's chuckling again when they're dancing, his arms wrapped around her carelessly.
"Let me embellish a little, will you. And will you let me lead, you suck at it." She fixes his arms and makes them stern, sets her own posture straight and tries to lead them in a fancy waltz that Onew so clearly will never let her follow through with. She gives up after a minute, accepting his arms as they fall back on to her waist once more, mindlessly pinching at the sides of her dress.
"This right here is the perfect example of why in reality we broke up after a week." he says, suddenly chopping them across the dance floor by the drink table.
"I just hate being single at weddings. The looks of despair. Judgment. Pity."
They stop dancing and Onew gets them a couple of drinks off the table. Luna drinks hers in one fell swoop. Onew whistles, clearly impressed.
"At the very least Onew, I should say thanks for being a good sport about this and going along with this crazy scheme. Not everyone would be game to be my long term boyfriend for a stupid wedding and tell strangers how much they love me." Onew hands her another drink, and shrugs his shoulders, bemused.
"It's not that hard to pretend it, you know."
"Shit," Luna mutters. The elevator chimes and they step in, and she reluctantly pushes the button for the 5th floor. "In all the madness of calling you up and begging you to fly into town for this one huge favor and the preparation of making you that file on my history so that you would be prepared for all the questions about me that would be thrown at you, I can't believe I totally forgot to book you a hotel room. They would be sold out," she hits her head with the back of her palm, "it's a wedding weekend. Why wouldn't it be? Why didn't I think of that. I'm usually so good at thinking ahead."
"How long did it take you to make that file for me, by the way? The life and biography of Park Sunyoung, the antiquated and archaic woman who dedicated her life to note taking and monumental knitting patterns?" Onew mocks, holding the elevator door open heroically above Luna's head as it chimes faster, telling them to move on out.
"Two weeks." she mutters, suddenly feeling highly ashamed.
"I especially loved the five page chapter about all your allergies. Strawberries, and not blueberries. Duly noted."
"There's only one bed."
"I don't mind sleeping on the floor. It'll remind me of the time when you pretend punished me for breaking up with you after I made the mistake of sleeping with a hostel of whores."
"Shut up," Luna throws a pillow at Onew and he annoyingly catches it. His tie is crooked again and it's bothering her. She looks at him and then the bed, a clear state of debate. "You'll sleep here. With me. We can make the pillows a fort down the middle."
"Goody, it'll be just like elementary school." Onew chimes, snatching his tootbrush from his suitcase and running to the bathroom before Luna can throw another pillow at him again.
"Do you think this it what it's like?" Luna asks, breaking the silence as they stare at the lightly dimmed ceiling above them, "you know, if we were actually married?"
"If we were actually married, I'd like to think there wouldn't be a plethora of pillows situation happening between us." Onew turns to her, breaking the barrier by resting a propped elbow on one of the pillows. He looks good like this, his white teeth glowing through his smirk in the darkness, the mere scent of a man sleeping by her side enough to make Luna go crazy for a moment. She hadn't thought this out all the way through.
"In all serious, thanks for inviting me like this. I'll be your pretend boyfriend anytime you ask," his voice is low and groggy but his eyes look more alert than ever. "Growing up with you has never been so easy."
They stare at each other, observing each other through the dark, reading the moment, both grateful for the weekend being an absolute success. Luna thinks about leaning over and kissing him, but stops herself, because pretend Luna wouldn't do that. Pretend Luna would wait for Onew to make the move and grovel at her feet until she begrudgingly accepts. Onew falls back on his side of the pillow barrier, disappearing behind a fluffy wall of disguise.
"Turn the light off will you, Onew. I'm trying to sleep over here and you're nothing but a distraction."
The last light clicks off and the pure sense of black takes over. She hears Onew sigh and then the pretend waves of snoring start to kick in.
Typical.
Blood Lines, Not Linear, Changmin/Sooyoung
It's a family function and he's standing there in the corner of the room, staring wildly at her and brooding like a sullen teenager, tossing his mane out of his face, interjecting his cigarette between his lips as if it's a substitute for conversation. Someone is making a mournful eulogy of the mutual loss and the sound of choreographed sniffles floods the room in unison. Sooyoung doesn't even remember which uncle of hers it is that has passed away but she makes a quick prayer as the aunts around her pat her face in mistaken empathy, bunching her up in clueless and invasively claustrophobic hugs. Someone hands her a bouquet of pale yellow roses that clash with her black tulle dress to say I'm sorry and Sooyoung says another longer prayer in her head, for something entirely unrelated.
Sooyoung is drowning in a room full of tears and she covers her face so that no one can see she's not crying.
"It suits you. The color yellow." he's standing besides her on the back veranda suddenly, pointing at the flowers Sooyoung is still carrying. She was trying to hide her cowardly manner, not be confronted with it.
"How do you um...know the deceased?" she asks, hoping it doesn't sound too calculated. He cocks an eyebrow. He still looks like a sullen teenager but up close, oh boy, was he pretty.
"He's an uncle of mine," (her heart plummets) "more like a third uncle twice removed and a country bumpkin who a grandma considered close enough to be called family. No offense on the bumpkin part. You?"
Sooyoung feels her heart weirdly resuscitating, but something is still abysmal. It's quite possibly the unlit cigarette hanging between his fingers as he starts to pluck the petals from a rose letting them fall into a circle on the veranda deck surrounding her black loafers. "an uncle of an uncle I suppose," she finally says.
"The color red suits you too," he stops plucking the poor decimated flower and gestures to her lips with his filthy cigarette.
"Does this mean we're family?" she asks in a murmur when he draws himself close to her, the unmistakable scent of tar and unhealthy habits mixing with the fragrant of a rose.
"Only by name," he barely whispers back, lips moving in on hers. It feels good but tastes awful, that interlope of stench and expert mouth formations all at once and Sooyoung can belatedly tell that she's way too enamored with this stranger.
"What's your name, by the way, you kin of mine?"
"Changmin," he replies stepping back and lighting his cigarette with a Naruto sticker covered lighter hidden in his pocket.
"Not good with funerals, huh, Changmin?" she points to the cigarette. He diplomatically offers it to her and she shakes her head declining politely, staring at his plump round lips this time as the cigarette is invited between them. "Red looks good on you too."
"Yeah? Thanks for that."
"Yeah, no problem. Anything for family." she deflowers the rest of the roses from the bouquet while he finishes his cigarette in silence, until they are both enveloped in a cloud of yellow pastel like something from a Sofia Coppola movie.
They kiss again before she leaves and Sooyoung doesn't really mind the taste of burning rubber and toxic smoke anymore the second time around.
Lessons with Gaston, Siwon/Sooyoung
It's not in Siwon's nature to let a girl frustrate him but it's happening and he hates it. They are slumped against a brick wall that smells like rancid puke that's seeped in for fifty years but neither one of them gets up because the first one to do so loses.
"You underestimate me." she says, and it is the spoken truth. Siwon does underestimate her. He's built this image of her in his head of this saintly princess who feeds the birds in the morning and sings the nightingale song with them at night. There's a lot hiding behind those mousy bangs and modest clothes and she stays put, resting her head against the wall and keeping her arms crossed. Siwon tries to think of something to fight back with it but there's nothing to say.
"Fuck it. I'm cold and I'm getting nauseous. I'm going to walk this off." Siwon gets up, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks like a wimp and he knows it but the cold makes his cheeks sink in and he's not the type to let his looks go so that's that. He keeps walking briskly, even keeping his composure when his ears perk up and Sooyoung shuffles up behind him.
Siwon's not a quitter either but there's just something so pointless about these tutoring lessons his father has forced him to get after his rebellious incidents. She doesn't force him to study and Siwon resents it. "You're obviously smart," Sooyoung tells him after Siwon drags her to the basketball court for their third lesson and slam dunks his literature books, "you just don't know how to apply yourself."
"Funny. You sound just like my father. Except he says I don't want to."
"Semantics."
She scores a three pointer with a granny pose and Siwon feels his heart palpitate.
"You teach me arithmetic, I teach you adolescence. It's only fair."
"You're such a stereotype of your own kind and you can't even see it."
"So is that a no? You won't let me get you drunk?"
"How is that going to help me keep the promise I made to your father that you would graduate?"
"Simple. For every math question I get right, you take a sip."
Siwon expects her to reject his proposal but she accepts it, her spontaneity shining with every math question he gets right. The thing is, Siwon gets every single question right.
"So you do know how to apply yourself," Sooyoung says stumbling alongside a sidewalk for the first time in her life. Siwon hesitates and then wraps his arms around her to support. First-Time-Drunk-Tutor-Sooyoung nuzzles herself into Siwon's neck and Siwon thinks it'll be cool to pretend it doesn't happen. He walks her to his car very slowly to cherish the moment.
"You mean I wanted to right?" Choi Siwon is a winner. He opens the door and Sooyoung smiles lazily, her eyes closed as she gives him a little tipsy peck on the cheek. Sooyoung's breath might smell like a hangover but her whole essence radiates and Siwon thinks he might finally understand heaven.
"I don't like you. I just wanted to clarify." Siwon's wearing his preppy outfit with embroidered lion crests on the day he chooses to break things off with her. Some call it Lacoste, Sooyoung calls it 'Ladouche.'
"Thanks for that," Sooyoung rolls her eyes and jerks Siwon's monochromed golf club out of his hand so that he loses his balance. "Nice stick. It's time for chemistry."
"It's a better day for golf." Siwon has a trademark smirk and he does it. Sooyoung sighs and walks in the opposite direction of the golf course. Siwon stays put for a minute. Then chases after her. For the golf club.
"You're never going to graduate." It's the day before graduation and Siwon has ripped his book of 'Hamlet' into neat little shreds. He waits for the fallout to happen and for Sooyoung to scream. But she doesn't and Siwon feels cheated.
"If I graduate tomorrow, will you never talk to me again?"
"I'm not going to tutor you forever if you purposely fail." Sooyoung chucks the shredded Hamlet at Siwon's chest. It bounces back and Siwon puffs his chest proudly. He's been working out and he has the proud pecs underneath his perfectly creased plaid shirt to prove it.
"I'm going to graduate tomorrow and you know it. Then I'll never have to endure you and your fatherly tactics again."
"The feeling's mutual Choi Siwon." Sooyoung bends down and collects the Hamlet book and bounces it off Siwon's chest harder this time.
"I still don't like you." he says back. He plays his best poker face and Sooyoung does it back but he's better at it this time. Her face falls for a split second and he knows that's his chance and takes it. He leans in for the surprise kiss and tucks a finger underneath her chin. She kisses him back, soft, sweetly and with glee.
"I had this theory you were a princess."
"Yeah? How was it?"
"Well I was expecting the birds to come flying out after we kissed. They didn't."
"What birds?"
"Figure it out, genius." Siwon pulls a book out from his overstacked bookshelf of books he "never" reads. He hands it to Sooyoung and she kisses him again. The book falls on the floor when Sooyoung kicks a foot up, just like how they do it in those fairytales. "Cinderella," he mumurs between a breath of air.
"Always took myself for more of a Belle."
And they live happily ever after.
Delete Baby, Jinwoo/Irene
It's melancholy, the press of his lips. She can't accept it. so she deletes his number off her phone. 'erasing a number just isn't going to cut it,' the little voice inside her head tries to remind her. But Irene chooses to ignore it and instead stares outside at the passing view of dwindling cities and soon a surplus of nature at its best. When her phone beeps three times from an unlisted number that looks awfully familiar she places it on silence forever, imprinting a half heart on the foggy train window with her pinky finger.
The countryside is quiet, lonely, and worlds behind whatever she had in Seoul. But Irene makes do and thinks the little cabin she rents in the village is perfect for her solitude and freelancing work. Concentrate is the word she's looking for; concentration, concentrating, con-cen-trate. She wakes up to the swallowtails chanting every morning and the smell of the not so distant cow manure wafting through her drafty windows. It's wonderful, she tells that soul searching mind of hers.
She makes herself a cup of tea at one past noon like clockwork - and always drinks it alone.
The phone goes from three beeps a day to one, and sooner or later she forgets what it sounds like to be loved at all.
Beep - it goes one morning. "i'm sorry" - it says. And then it never rings again.
When the door bell rings one night it takes Irene thirty-seven minutes to register what the sound is partly because she's asleep when it happens and partly because she's never heard it rung before. Her feet pitter patter against the creaky wooden floors as she wakes up and answers it.
"You haven't answered a single one of my calls." he's wearing a turtleneck and leather shoes and everything about him looks so foreign in her simplified life. He also looks like he hasn't slept since the last time she's seen him.
"Come in," she whispers still groggy, barely making room for him as she shuts the door. His fingers graze her bare shoulder and she feels her back straighten up, eerily stiff. She suddenly feels conscious and she tries to brush her hair into something acceptable. Her earthy toned nightdress feels way too short and she fingers the hem of it, bunching it up at the side in a fist of nerves.
"I bought you flowers. Tulips. But they flew away in the autumn winds." Jinwoo takes a good, long look around at her modest apartment. There's not much to it and his eyes settle on her concave couch and then back to her before he sits on it with hesitation. "I intended to buy more but all the stores were closed on my way down here."
"How'd you find me?" she walks over and hovers in front of him before deciding to sit down herself. Her phone sits silently in front of them on her thrift store coffee table, dust accumulating on it so that the screen is barely visible. Little reminders.
"I called your parents." such a simple answer, she thinks. Nods. He nods back. Nods again. And then there's emptiness.
She waits for him to make a move: apologize, cry, rage, pace. But nothing happens. He sits there, back slumped on the sofa, eyes weary from a combination of the drive and life itself. He's aged, too young for it, and something about him looks just so small. Vulnerable.
No, she's the vulnerable one. She suddenly remembers that.
"You need to go." she says, but then he's got one hand on top of hers softly, and it's the kindest hand that anyone's felt.
"I'm sorry. For it all. For taking you for granted. For getting so caught up in work. For not being able to read between the lines." The hand stays put on top of hers and there is warmth radiating throughout her drafty quarters, "For not being able to admit to you I wanted more than just a one night stand on and off kind of friendship. I want more, Joohyun. I want the real thing."
Sincerity lights up the room, and Irene feels her cheeks tingle. Slowly her hand curves underneath his, until her palm is open and their fingers intertwine like a loose rope binding with force.
"Remind me in the morning to take you on a walk. The leaves are lovely colors this time of year."
----------------------
Panda Lights, Jonghyun/Jessica
Everything was easier in the mirror.
Her reflection was honest, unforgiving, didn't voice an opinion back. She practiced it too, the pauses between her words, the straightforward look of dismissal. Breaking up was something she had been somewhat of an expert in doing, but when it came to Kim Jonghyun, all set rules went out the window. Her reflection told her she was ready to do this, ready for battle.
Her reflection was a bit of a liar.
His mouth opens in ecstasy when she meets up with him, outside a coffee shop, not even giving him the gratitude to go inside, take a seat, order something black - make niceties. And then he laughs when her words come out, perfectly rehearsed and yet not one ounce of genuine. He gives a hearty laugh, punches her shoulder in some fashion that only friends would do. Jessica is not sure what to make of it.
"I mean it," she whispers defiantly. "I don't love you. Never had."
"Okay," he nods his head and closes his eyes in peace in what could surely be taken as an expression of mockery. "If that's what you want to believe." And then he walks away, walks into the coffee store as if that's what was really meant to happen all along. She watches him mournfully through the windows, the small arch of his back hunched in his white hoodie over the counter as he orders a large black coffee, her favorite, from the cute server at the bartender. He doesn't mean to flirt, it's just his nature, and Jessica catches the faint gleam of delight from the waitress after Jonghyun finishes his order and descends to a table by the window Jessica stands outside of.
When the coffee comes, he doesn't come outside to bring it to her in one last hope of reconciliation. The winter winds pick up and Jessica feels her heart fly away in a tizzy.
She tries again, months later when they bump into each other at some nondescript event. His appearance is more svelte and mature; she notices when he takes her in for a casual hug like the friends they were supposed to be.
"You look good," he says first and Jessica feels self-conscious when he does, suddenly hyper aware of every mole on her body.
"You too." he smiles in great stride, placing a hand on her forearm in a friendly hold. She recalls what she looked like in her reflection, the lies her mirror spit back out at her that morning. His hand lingers in soothing, circular, stroking, friendly motions. His gaze doesn't fade or deter from her, it never did, mostly because he could read her better than she could ever imagine to read herself. He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for her to pull her arm away in refusal. "Friends?"
I hate you, she contextualizes, not saying the words actually out loud. Jonghyun reaches over and pulls her into another, slightly more personal hug and she finds herself savoring the moment when his arms wrap around her waist, his chin tucking itself into the crook of her daunting neck for a second too long, cologne heavy on her clothes, and his fingers trickling over her collarbones for a minute touch when they pull away. Jonghyun grins mischievously and Jessica's sure it's the exact moment her mirror at home breaks.
"Friends."
Growing Up With You Would Be Easy to Do, Onew/Luna
"My life is such a rom-com," Luna groans, stomping her feet in place a little, "embarrassingly so."
"So what. We've made it this far, you should just accept the happy ending that's being written for us. Or you know, that you can rewrite yourself at any given moment." Onew chuckles. Luna hates it, hates the way he's so obviously enjoying her shriveling up pride, hates the way he's hovering over her so that she can see his nostrils flaring up in gloating pleasure, hates how his over enthusiastic blue tie is sitting on top of his collared shirt so obviously crooked. She reaches up to fix it, holding the knot extra tight on purpose so that he loses his breath for a few seconds. He still smiles.
"Remember, looks are everything. You must act like you're in love with me and want to father me five children," she tightens his tie even tighter when he nods furiously, "and that our mutual retirement goals are to retire in a secluded house right by the beach at Jeju Island where we will farm a patch of tomatoes together and donate the profits to underprivileged kids in Uganda."
"Relax, I got this," Onew pats Luna's bangs affectionately, coddling a couple of strands with extra care.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" Luna pulls back. "I didn't put that move in your study notes."
"Public displays of affection are totally normal between two people pretending to be in love, the least you can do is let me reciprocate your rehearsed hugs and high fives," Onew feigns interest and drops his right elbow into a robotic gesture, "no need to make this whole love thing such a chore Lu-Na-Na. Now let's get on with it."
The wedding goes well and all five people sitting at their table are gullible and believe Luna's exaggerated story of how Onew and her fell in love during their college years but broke up because Onew wanted other fine things in life before only realizing a year ago that he was truly, madly and deeply in love with Luna all along and no other woman on the planet could even dare to come close. She tells the story in small increments, drinking wine and pausing at all the right moments, Onew panging along when she nudges him to, giving her apologetic stares when the story calls for it.
"I especially liked the part where you told them all I was debating whether or not I was gay in my 3rd year of college before I saw you across the way in that tight red mini-dress that made me literally see straight." Onew's chuckling again when they're dancing, his arms wrapped around her carelessly.
"Let me embellish a little, will you. And will you let me lead, you suck at it." She fixes his arms and makes them stern, sets her own posture straight and tries to lead them in a fancy waltz that Onew so clearly will never let her follow through with. She gives up after a minute, accepting his arms as they fall back on to her waist once more, mindlessly pinching at the sides of her dress.
"This right here is the perfect example of why in reality we broke up after a week." he says, suddenly chopping them across the dance floor by the drink table.
"I just hate being single at weddings. The looks of despair. Judgment. Pity."
They stop dancing and Onew gets them a couple of drinks off the table. Luna drinks hers in one fell swoop. Onew whistles, clearly impressed.
"At the very least Onew, I should say thanks for being a good sport about this and going along with this crazy scheme. Not everyone would be game to be my long term boyfriend for a stupid wedding and tell strangers how much they love me." Onew hands her another drink, and shrugs his shoulders, bemused.
"It's not that hard to pretend it, you know."
"Shit," Luna mutters. The elevator chimes and they step in, and she reluctantly pushes the button for the 5th floor. "In all the madness of calling you up and begging you to fly into town for this one huge favor and the preparation of making you that file on my history so that you would be prepared for all the questions about me that would be thrown at you, I can't believe I totally forgot to book you a hotel room. They would be sold out," she hits her head with the back of her palm, "it's a wedding weekend. Why wouldn't it be? Why didn't I think of that. I'm usually so good at thinking ahead."
"How long did it take you to make that file for me, by the way? The life and biography of Park Sunyoung, the antiquated and archaic woman who dedicated her life to note taking and monumental knitting patterns?" Onew mocks, holding the elevator door open heroically above Luna's head as it chimes faster, telling them to move on out.
"Two weeks." she mutters, suddenly feeling highly ashamed.
"I especially loved the five page chapter about all your allergies. Strawberries, and not blueberries. Duly noted."
"There's only one bed."
"I don't mind sleeping on the floor. It'll remind me of the time when you pretend punished me for breaking up with you after I made the mistake of sleeping with a hostel of whores."
"Shut up," Luna throws a pillow at Onew and he annoyingly catches it. His tie is crooked again and it's bothering her. She looks at him and then the bed, a clear state of debate. "You'll sleep here. With me. We can make the pillows a fort down the middle."
"Goody, it'll be just like elementary school." Onew chimes, snatching his tootbrush from his suitcase and running to the bathroom before Luna can throw another pillow at him again.
"Do you think this it what it's like?" Luna asks, breaking the silence as they stare at the lightly dimmed ceiling above them, "you know, if we were actually married?"
"If we were actually married, I'd like to think there wouldn't be a plethora of pillows situation happening between us." Onew turns to her, breaking the barrier by resting a propped elbow on one of the pillows. He looks good like this, his white teeth glowing through his smirk in the darkness, the mere scent of a man sleeping by her side enough to make Luna go crazy for a moment. She hadn't thought this out all the way through.
"In all serious, thanks for inviting me like this. I'll be your pretend boyfriend anytime you ask," his voice is low and groggy but his eyes look more alert than ever. "Growing up with you has never been so easy."
They stare at each other, observing each other through the dark, reading the moment, both grateful for the weekend being an absolute success. Luna thinks about leaning over and kissing him, but stops herself, because pretend Luna wouldn't do that. Pretend Luna would wait for Onew to make the move and grovel at her feet until she begrudgingly accepts. Onew falls back on his side of the pillow barrier, disappearing behind a fluffy wall of disguise.
"Turn the light off will you, Onew. I'm trying to sleep over here and you're nothing but a distraction."
The last light clicks off and the pure sense of black takes over. She hears Onew sigh and then the pretend waves of snoring start to kick in.
Typical.
Blood Lines, Not Linear, Changmin/Sooyoung
It's a family function and he's standing there in the corner of the room, staring wildly at her and brooding like a sullen teenager, tossing his mane out of his face, interjecting his cigarette between his lips as if it's a substitute for conversation. Someone is making a mournful eulogy of the mutual loss and the sound of choreographed sniffles floods the room in unison. Sooyoung doesn't even remember which uncle of hers it is that has passed away but she makes a quick prayer as the aunts around her pat her face in mistaken empathy, bunching her up in clueless and invasively claustrophobic hugs. Someone hands her a bouquet of pale yellow roses that clash with her black tulle dress to say I'm sorry and Sooyoung says another longer prayer in her head, for something entirely unrelated.
Sooyoung is drowning in a room full of tears and she covers her face so that no one can see she's not crying.
"It suits you. The color yellow." he's standing besides her on the back veranda suddenly, pointing at the flowers Sooyoung is still carrying. She was trying to hide her cowardly manner, not be confronted with it.
"How do you um...know the deceased?" she asks, hoping it doesn't sound too calculated. He cocks an eyebrow. He still looks like a sullen teenager but up close, oh boy, was he pretty.
"He's an uncle of mine," (her heart plummets) "more like a third uncle twice removed and a country bumpkin who a grandma considered close enough to be called family. No offense on the bumpkin part. You?"
Sooyoung feels her heart weirdly resuscitating, but something is still abysmal. It's quite possibly the unlit cigarette hanging between his fingers as he starts to pluck the petals from a rose letting them fall into a circle on the veranda deck surrounding her black loafers. "an uncle of an uncle I suppose," she finally says.
"The color red suits you too," he stops plucking the poor decimated flower and gestures to her lips with his filthy cigarette.
"Does this mean we're family?" she asks in a murmur when he draws himself close to her, the unmistakable scent of tar and unhealthy habits mixing with the fragrant of a rose.
"Only by name," he barely whispers back, lips moving in on hers. It feels good but tastes awful, that interlope of stench and expert mouth formations all at once and Sooyoung can belatedly tell that she's way too enamored with this stranger.
"What's your name, by the way, you kin of mine?"
"Changmin," he replies stepping back and lighting his cigarette with a Naruto sticker covered lighter hidden in his pocket.
"Not good with funerals, huh, Changmin?" she points to the cigarette. He diplomatically offers it to her and she shakes her head declining politely, staring at his plump round lips this time as the cigarette is invited between them. "Red looks good on you too."
"Yeah? Thanks for that."
"Yeah, no problem. Anything for family." she deflowers the rest of the roses from the bouquet while he finishes his cigarette in silence, until they are both enveloped in a cloud of yellow pastel like something from a Sofia Coppola movie.
They kiss again before she leaves and Sooyoung doesn't really mind the taste of burning rubber and toxic smoke anymore the second time around.
Lessons with Gaston, Siwon/Sooyoung
It's not in Siwon's nature to let a girl frustrate him but it's happening and he hates it. They are slumped against a brick wall that smells like rancid puke that's seeped in for fifty years but neither one of them gets up because the first one to do so loses.
"You underestimate me." she says, and it is the spoken truth. Siwon does underestimate her. He's built this image of her in his head of this saintly princess who feeds the birds in the morning and sings the nightingale song with them at night. There's a lot hiding behind those mousy bangs and modest clothes and she stays put, resting her head against the wall and keeping her arms crossed. Siwon tries to think of something to fight back with it but there's nothing to say.
"Fuck it. I'm cold and I'm getting nauseous. I'm going to walk this off." Siwon gets up, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks like a wimp and he knows it but the cold makes his cheeks sink in and he's not the type to let his looks go so that's that. He keeps walking briskly, even keeping his composure when his ears perk up and Sooyoung shuffles up behind him.
Siwon's not a quitter either but there's just something so pointless about these tutoring lessons his father has forced him to get after his rebellious incidents. She doesn't force him to study and Siwon resents it. "You're obviously smart," Sooyoung tells him after Siwon drags her to the basketball court for their third lesson and slam dunks his literature books, "you just don't know how to apply yourself."
"Funny. You sound just like my father. Except he says I don't want to."
"Semantics."
She scores a three pointer with a granny pose and Siwon feels his heart palpitate.
"You teach me arithmetic, I teach you adolescence. It's only fair."
"You're such a stereotype of your own kind and you can't even see it."
"So is that a no? You won't let me get you drunk?"
"How is that going to help me keep the promise I made to your father that you would graduate?"
"Simple. For every math question I get right, you take a sip."
Siwon expects her to reject his proposal but she accepts it, her spontaneity shining with every math question he gets right. The thing is, Siwon gets every single question right.
"So you do know how to apply yourself," Sooyoung says stumbling alongside a sidewalk for the first time in her life. Siwon hesitates and then wraps his arms around her to support. First-Time-Drunk-Tutor-Sooyoung nuzzles herself into Siwon's neck and Siwon thinks it'll be cool to pretend it doesn't happen. He walks her to his car very slowly to cherish the moment.
"You mean I wanted to right?" Choi Siwon is a winner. He opens the door and Sooyoung smiles lazily, her eyes closed as she gives him a little tipsy peck on the cheek. Sooyoung's breath might smell like a hangover but her whole essence radiates and Siwon thinks he might finally understand heaven.
"I don't like you. I just wanted to clarify." Siwon's wearing his preppy outfit with embroidered lion crests on the day he chooses to break things off with her. Some call it Lacoste, Sooyoung calls it 'Ladouche.'
"Thanks for that," Sooyoung rolls her eyes and jerks Siwon's monochromed golf club out of his hand so that he loses his balance. "Nice stick. It's time for chemistry."
"It's a better day for golf." Siwon has a trademark smirk and he does it. Sooyoung sighs and walks in the opposite direction of the golf course. Siwon stays put for a minute. Then chases after her. For the golf club.
"You're never going to graduate." It's the day before graduation and Siwon has ripped his book of 'Hamlet' into neat little shreds. He waits for the fallout to happen and for Sooyoung to scream. But she doesn't and Siwon feels cheated.
"If I graduate tomorrow, will you never talk to me again?"
"I'm not going to tutor you forever if you purposely fail." Sooyoung chucks the shredded Hamlet at Siwon's chest. It bounces back and Siwon puffs his chest proudly. He's been working out and he has the proud pecs underneath his perfectly creased plaid shirt to prove it.
"I'm going to graduate tomorrow and you know it. Then I'll never have to endure you and your fatherly tactics again."
"The feeling's mutual Choi Siwon." Sooyoung bends down and collects the Hamlet book and bounces it off Siwon's chest harder this time.
"I still don't like you." he says back. He plays his best poker face and Sooyoung does it back but he's better at it this time. Her face falls for a split second and he knows that's his chance and takes it. He leans in for the surprise kiss and tucks a finger underneath her chin. She kisses him back, soft, sweetly and with glee.
"I had this theory you were a princess."
"Yeah? How was it?"
"Well I was expecting the birds to come flying out after we kissed. They didn't."
"What birds?"
"Figure it out, genius." Siwon pulls a book out from his overstacked bookshelf of books he "never" reads. He hands it to Sooyoung and she kisses him again. The book falls on the floor when Sooyoung kicks a foot up, just like how they do it in those fairytales. "Cinderella," he mumurs between a breath of air.
"Always took myself for more of a Belle."
And they live happily ever after.
Delete Baby, Jinwoo/Irene
It's melancholy, the press of his lips. She can't accept it. so she deletes his number off her phone. 'erasing a number just isn't going to cut it,' the little voice inside her head tries to remind her. But Irene chooses to ignore it and instead stares outside at the passing view of dwindling cities and soon a surplus of nature at its best. When her phone beeps three times from an unlisted number that looks awfully familiar she places it on silence forever, imprinting a half heart on the foggy train window with her pinky finger.
The countryside is quiet, lonely, and worlds behind whatever she had in Seoul. But Irene makes do and thinks the little cabin she rents in the village is perfect for her solitude and freelancing work. Concentrate is the word she's looking for; concentration, concentrating, con-cen-trate. She wakes up to the swallowtails chanting every morning and the smell of the not so distant cow manure wafting through her drafty windows. It's wonderful, she tells that soul searching mind of hers.
She makes herself a cup of tea at one past noon like clockwork - and always drinks it alone.
The phone goes from three beeps a day to one, and sooner or later she forgets what it sounds like to be loved at all.
Beep - it goes one morning. "i'm sorry" - it says. And then it never rings again.
When the door bell rings one night it takes Irene thirty-seven minutes to register what the sound is partly because she's asleep when it happens and partly because she's never heard it rung before. Her feet pitter patter against the creaky wooden floors as she wakes up and answers it.
"You haven't answered a single one of my calls." he's wearing a turtleneck and leather shoes and everything about him looks so foreign in her simplified life. He also looks like he hasn't slept since the last time she's seen him.
"Come in," she whispers still groggy, barely making room for him as she shuts the door. His fingers graze her bare shoulder and she feels her back straighten up, eerily stiff. She suddenly feels conscious and she tries to brush her hair into something acceptable. Her earthy toned nightdress feels way too short and she fingers the hem of it, bunching it up at the side in a fist of nerves.
"I bought you flowers. Tulips. But they flew away in the autumn winds." Jinwoo takes a good, long look around at her modest apartment. There's not much to it and his eyes settle on her concave couch and then back to her before he sits on it with hesitation. "I intended to buy more but all the stores were closed on my way down here."
"How'd you find me?" she walks over and hovers in front of him before deciding to sit down herself. Her phone sits silently in front of them on her thrift store coffee table, dust accumulating on it so that the screen is barely visible. Little reminders.
"I called your parents." such a simple answer, she thinks. Nods. He nods back. Nods again. And then there's emptiness.
She waits for him to make a move: apologize, cry, rage, pace. But nothing happens. He sits there, back slumped on the sofa, eyes weary from a combination of the drive and life itself. He's aged, too young for it, and something about him looks just so small. Vulnerable.
No, she's the vulnerable one. She suddenly remembers that.
"You need to go." she says, but then he's got one hand on top of hers softly, and it's the kindest hand that anyone's felt.
"I'm sorry. For it all. For taking you for granted. For getting so caught up in work. For not being able to read between the lines." The hand stays put on top of hers and there is warmth radiating throughout her drafty quarters, "For not being able to admit to you I wanted more than just a one night stand on and off kind of friendship. I want more, Joohyun. I want the real thing."
Sincerity lights up the room, and Irene feels her cheeks tingle. Slowly her hand curves underneath his, until her palm is open and their fingers intertwine like a loose rope binding with force.
"Remind me in the morning to take you on a walk. The leaves are lovely colors this time of year."
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