to infinity, live with no end (4/5 of The Mothers series)
to infinity, live with no end
No pairing, from Junsu's mother's POV.
Fluff, G; 1,100 words.
Even when you can't see them, it's always been the mothers that have been secretly supporting them, encouraging them. This is the story of DBSK's mothers, and how they cope with their sons' fame.
Yunho's mother. | Jaejoong's mother. | Yoochun's mother.
Disclaimer: I do not know Junsu's mother. Everything here is just a figment of my imagination.
As her two sons come in from playing in the nearby grass field, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and grinning, she hands Junsu a cup of lemon flavored water, already anticipating him asking for it. A popular song plays on the radio next to the kitchen counter, and she watches in amusement as he loudly sings along, body unconsciously moving to the beat.
Junho teases him, Are you going to be an idol now, Junsu? I thought you wanted to be a famous soccer player, as he heads over to where she placed freshly baked cookies. She lightly smacks his hand as he tries to steal one and chuckles at the look of consternation on Junsu’s face.
I-I do want to be a soccer player, he says uncertainly. But singing and dancing are fun too, almost as fun as soccer, he finishes defensively, voice getting softer and softer with each passing word.
She searches his eyes and sees the conflict in him trying to choose his favorite. Calm down, Junsu-yah, she finally says. Becoming either a soccer player or a singer is fine, so long as you don’t end up regretting your choice. She softly murmurs into his ear, knowing he’ll feel better if he knew that someone else once had a similar struggle, I wanted to be a singer too, once. But then I decided that I wanted a family more than anything else and gave up on it. I’ve never regretted it. She says, louder so that Junho could hear, Maybe you can live the dream for me?
At Junho’s demand to hear what she said to Junsu alone, she looks down at Junsu, his eyes now big and amazed, and shares a smile. I’ll tell you one day, she ends up teasing Junho.
The door opens, and Junsu walks in, eyes red and swollen. She looks to Yunho, who had been living with them for a little over a month, in alarm; Yunho shrugs and shakes his head, as if to say, I don’t know what happened, and goes upstairs, squeezing Junsu’s shoulder as he passes.
She turns to Junsu and silently quirks an eyebrow at him; it’s always been easier waiting for him to be the one to start talking about what’s wrong. He stares at her for a few moments, and when he opens his mouth to talk, she’s shocked at the voice that comes out. It’s hoarse, raw, sounding like he’d been screaming at the top of his lungs. His words, though, stun her more than his voice does; I don’t think I’m going to be able to debut.
She asks why, and he turns away, facing the kitchen window with his fists clenched and shoulders tense. She wants to go over and comfort him, but if she does, it’ll only make it harder for him to talk; he’d always been a little too independent to willingly share his thoughts. He answers softly, bitterly, My voice doesn’t sound like it’ll get better anytime soon. Some of the trainees that arrived after I started training have already debuted, but I’m still here, stuck going nowhere.
For a moment, she couldn’t find words to say, but she goes over and draws him to her, his back to her front, and softly murmurs, That’s not true, Junsu. You’re not stuck in a place going nowhere; you’re simply getting more training, helping your control over your voice and body to be stronger. She turns him around and gently shakes him, trying to shake him out of the stupor she knows he’ll fall into.
She sees him blink and look up to her, eyes filled with pain and vulnerability. When he tries a weak, shaky smile, she smoothes away the remnants of tear tracks and pulls him fully into her arms, feeling him try to bury his face into her shoulder. You’ll be fine, Junsu-yah, she whispers.
When the phone rings right after the award ceremony, she already instinctively knows that it’s Junsu calling. She hears his voice, slightly hysterical and disbelieving, the moment she lifts the phone to her ears, Did you watch it, Mother? Did you? His words spill over each other, making hard for her to understand what he’s saying.
She laughs, Slow down, Junsu-yah. Yes, I watched it. Her voice softens as she says, Congratulations, Junsu. Congratulations on everything you and the rest of the boys won. Her eyes slightly tear up as his voice starts to choke, the tears he didn’t allow to be seen on stage finally getting the better of him.
Our first Daesang, Mother! I never thought we would be able to get one, he sobs, his words hard to understand under the tumult of his emotions. He starts to murmur unintelligible words, and she feels pride as her son’s hard work throughout the years finally gets rewarded. Come over tomorrow, she invites, wanting to celebrate. She hears a pause on the other side of the phone and guesses that he can’t; schedules seem to be always full around this time of year, and she almost never gets the chance to fully celebrate Christmas with him.
She’s right when he lets his breath out slowly, saying, with regret, I can’t, management is making us go over to Japan… She doesn’t know what to say, but she settles for an understanding tone of voice. Oh, I see.
She’s fussing over Junho’s appearance when Junsu calls, outside the house waiting with his manager in order to pick up Junho to take him with them to film a variety show. She picks up and hears Junsu’s now trademark laugh, causing her to smile widely.
Is he ready yet? Junsu asks, voice high and excited. She’d missed that tone in his voice; it’s been a long time since she’d heard him speak that way, free and happy without any hints of stress.
She mock sighs and says, You know how he is, always nervous about how he’ll live up to his famous twin. Her mood lightens when he bursts into laughter again, slightly relieving her of the chafing sense of bereavement she hadn’t even known she’d had at the thoughts of both her sons going into the entertainment industry.
As Junho heads outside and into the car, she stands by the window that, years ago, she’d stood by and welcomed her young sons in. She sees Junsu standing beside the car, waiting, and when Junsu’s about to get inside, she sees his wave and bright smile, silently reassuring her that he’ll take care of his older, inexperienced brother.
(I know you’ll take care of him, Junsu-yah.)
Free Hit Counter
Changmin's mother.
No pairing, from Junsu's mother's POV.
Fluff, G; 1,100 words.
Even when you can't see them, it's always been the mothers that have been secretly supporting them, encouraging them. This is the story of DBSK's mothers, and how they cope with their sons' fame.
Yunho's mother. | Jaejoong's mother. | Yoochun's mother.
Disclaimer: I do not know Junsu's mother. Everything here is just a figment of my imagination.
As her two sons come in from playing in the nearby grass field, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and grinning, she hands Junsu a cup of lemon flavored water, already anticipating him asking for it. A popular song plays on the radio next to the kitchen counter, and she watches in amusement as he loudly sings along, body unconsciously moving to the beat.
Junho teases him, Are you going to be an idol now, Junsu? I thought you wanted to be a famous soccer player, as he heads over to where she placed freshly baked cookies. She lightly smacks his hand as he tries to steal one and chuckles at the look of consternation on Junsu’s face.
I-I do want to be a soccer player, he says uncertainly. But singing and dancing are fun too, almost as fun as soccer, he finishes defensively, voice getting softer and softer with each passing word.
She searches his eyes and sees the conflict in him trying to choose his favorite. Calm down, Junsu-yah, she finally says. Becoming either a soccer player or a singer is fine, so long as you don’t end up regretting your choice. She softly murmurs into his ear, knowing he’ll feel better if he knew that someone else once had a similar struggle, I wanted to be a singer too, once. But then I decided that I wanted a family more than anything else and gave up on it. I’ve never regretted it. She says, louder so that Junho could hear, Maybe you can live the dream for me?
At Junho’s demand to hear what she said to Junsu alone, she looks down at Junsu, his eyes now big and amazed, and shares a smile. I’ll tell you one day, she ends up teasing Junho.
The door opens, and Junsu walks in, eyes red and swollen. She looks to Yunho, who had been living with them for a little over a month, in alarm; Yunho shrugs and shakes his head, as if to say, I don’t know what happened, and goes upstairs, squeezing Junsu’s shoulder as he passes.
She turns to Junsu and silently quirks an eyebrow at him; it’s always been easier waiting for him to be the one to start talking about what’s wrong. He stares at her for a few moments, and when he opens his mouth to talk, she’s shocked at the voice that comes out. It’s hoarse, raw, sounding like he’d been screaming at the top of his lungs. His words, though, stun her more than his voice does; I don’t think I’m going to be able to debut.
She asks why, and he turns away, facing the kitchen window with his fists clenched and shoulders tense. She wants to go over and comfort him, but if she does, it’ll only make it harder for him to talk; he’d always been a little too independent to willingly share his thoughts. He answers softly, bitterly, My voice doesn’t sound like it’ll get better anytime soon. Some of the trainees that arrived after I started training have already debuted, but I’m still here, stuck going nowhere.
For a moment, she couldn’t find words to say, but she goes over and draws him to her, his back to her front, and softly murmurs, That’s not true, Junsu. You’re not stuck in a place going nowhere; you’re simply getting more training, helping your control over your voice and body to be stronger. She turns him around and gently shakes him, trying to shake him out of the stupor she knows he’ll fall into.
She sees him blink and look up to her, eyes filled with pain and vulnerability. When he tries a weak, shaky smile, she smoothes away the remnants of tear tracks and pulls him fully into her arms, feeling him try to bury his face into her shoulder. You’ll be fine, Junsu-yah, she whispers.
When the phone rings right after the award ceremony, she already instinctively knows that it’s Junsu calling. She hears his voice, slightly hysterical and disbelieving, the moment she lifts the phone to her ears, Did you watch it, Mother? Did you? His words spill over each other, making hard for her to understand what he’s saying.
She laughs, Slow down, Junsu-yah. Yes, I watched it. Her voice softens as she says, Congratulations, Junsu. Congratulations on everything you and the rest of the boys won. Her eyes slightly tear up as his voice starts to choke, the tears he didn’t allow to be seen on stage finally getting the better of him.
Our first Daesang, Mother! I never thought we would be able to get one, he sobs, his words hard to understand under the tumult of his emotions. He starts to murmur unintelligible words, and she feels pride as her son’s hard work throughout the years finally gets rewarded. Come over tomorrow, she invites, wanting to celebrate. She hears a pause on the other side of the phone and guesses that he can’t; schedules seem to be always full around this time of year, and she almost never gets the chance to fully celebrate Christmas with him.
She’s right when he lets his breath out slowly, saying, with regret, I can’t, management is making us go over to Japan… She doesn’t know what to say, but she settles for an understanding tone of voice. Oh, I see.
She’s fussing over Junho’s appearance when Junsu calls, outside the house waiting with his manager in order to pick up Junho to take him with them to film a variety show. She picks up and hears Junsu’s now trademark laugh, causing her to smile widely.
Is he ready yet? Junsu asks, voice high and excited. She’d missed that tone in his voice; it’s been a long time since she’d heard him speak that way, free and happy without any hints of stress.
She mock sighs and says, You know how he is, always nervous about how he’ll live up to his famous twin. Her mood lightens when he bursts into laughter again, slightly relieving her of the chafing sense of bereavement she hadn’t even known she’d had at the thoughts of both her sons going into the entertainment industry.
As Junho heads outside and into the car, she stands by the window that, years ago, she’d stood by and welcomed her young sons in. She sees Junsu standing beside the car, waiting, and when Junsu’s about to get inside, she sees his wave and bright smile, silently reassuring her that he’ll take care of his older, inexperienced brother.
(I know you’ll take care of him, Junsu-yah.)
Free Hit Counter
Changmin's mother.