Just Say Yes (7/7)
Kyungsoo hates a lot of things about red carpets. In no particular order: having to wear a tight bowtie and a suit that makes him look like a kid playing dress up. The sheer amount of people closing in on him when he walks down that red carpet. The photographers all around him and the blinding lights that burst with ever click of the shutter release. It isn't like the continuous studio lights they have on set, or even ambient daylight that give them time too adjust to the new brand of brightness. The flashes jump out at them and make them jump out of their skin. And the white lights are unflattering - they highlight the flaws instead of hiding them. They put everything that's undesirable on display.
"Hey, relax," comes Baekhyun's voice from behind. Kyungsoo looks over his shoulder at the same time that Baekhyun gives his arm a squeeze. "The lights won't eat you."
Chanyeol had texted him the same thing earlier, except in a nicer manner. Or just a less-Baekhyun manner. break a leg, bud! you'll do great!! plus you look so cute in a suit kekeke so don't worry! you won't land on your ass on the red carpet. BUT IF YOU DO HEY INSTANT FAMEEE! Chanyeol had said, then rang him up after five minutes to say, "Look, this is your production. You did a great job with the film. There's nothing to fear." But it's not the prospect of the film being a flop that freaks him out. Critics will always try to find something to hate about every single thing. There will always be people who won't share his taste in executing scenes. Shit like that happens. It's not falling flat on his ass that worries him; it's being exposed out here that freaks him out. It's walking down that red carpet and the press shining all their white lights on him to show the worst possible side of him that he's afraid of. It's one of those ghosts that won't ever leave.
Baekhyun gives his shoulder one last squeeze before pulling away and stepping into the light. "You've got this!" he calls out, flashing two thumbs up before taking another step forward. Soon, the flashing lights wash Baekhyun out and blink Kyungsoo. He closes his eyes, then, until the flashing subsides, until he can no longer see bursts of light at the back of his eyelids.
"Hey," comes another voice, softer this time. A nudge and a pinch in the side, then, "You hate the red carpet, too?"
Kyungsoo opens his eyes and turns on his side. There Jongdae is, dressed in a crisp black suit that hangs from his shoulders nicely. His hair is slicked back and his eyes are lined with black. And his cheeks are a nice, light shade of pink. There's just enough color in his features to breathe life into him, but not enough to wash him out. He doesn't look like Jongdae right now; he looks like that alluring movie star named 'Chen' in his movie 'The Black Pearl'. Or maybe Junho when he attends his brother's, Junsu's, wedding in one of Junho's dream sequences in the film. He looks just as stunning as Jongdae could be, though. The small smile on his lips, the shy twist of his mouth can't be anyone else's.
"Hate's too strong a word," Kyungsoo mumbles. He inches closer and digs his hands into his pockets. "I'm here to watch the movie, not walk down the carpet."
"Or walk down the carpet with me," Jongdae says. He slides next to Kyungsoo. Their elbows bump, and Kyungsoo feels a surge of electricity crawl up his arm. It isn't numbing, but it's enough to stun him a little, to ease the tension in his nerves and make him shiver. "Take my hand?"
Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. He furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side. There are at least twenty people from the press here, twenty people who they don't know beyond the usual hi's and hello's. And they're live, on air, this footage of the red carpet for the movie premiere being fed to different entertainment networks. If they hold hands here, in front of everyone and all those who are watching through their screens, they might get called out on it. Jongdae might start losing his offers, endorsements. It might be the end of Jongdae's career. He can't let that happen.
The light in Jongdae's eyes says, 'who the hell cares?' The smile on his lips says, 'I definitely don't.' "Are you sure?" Kyungsoo asks, nonetheless. "I mean, the press-"
"Can go suck it if they say anything bad about us holding hands while walking down the aisle. I mean the carpet." Jongdae laughs a little. He brushes his knuckles against the back of Kyungsoo's hand, and Kyungsoo's breath hitches. "You're scared and so am I. What do kids do when they're scared but still have to do that one thing that scares them?"
We're not kids anymore, Kyungsoo wants to say, but it makes sense - sometimes you need an ounce of youth to be able to figure things out. You need to break things down into bite-sized parts - scenes, not long footages - to be able to find that solution, the most simple solution ever, to make sense of the chaos. Then the memory of Jongdae rushing to his side hits him, Jongdae running to the park and holding out his hand so they can run away from the bullies, run to the beach and enjoy the sight of the setting sun.
"They laugh at the face of danger?" Kyungsoo replies.
Jongdae snorts. "You watch too much Disney."
Kyungsoo loosens his knuckles then reaches Jongdae's hand in his side with the pads of his fingers. He can feel Jongdae's muscles tense a little, then relax as soon as their hands find a nice fit. He can feel Jongdae's pulse against his palm, the steady, heavy beating against his skin. And he can feel Jongdae's light laughter through the link of their fingers and Jongdae says, "Ah, what the hell are we doing-" They take one step out of the darkness and into the light, closer to the press and away from their harbor. The cameras turn to them, flashes going off one by one, but Kyungsoo doesn't squint. He doesn't narrow his eyes to shield his vision from the blinding lights. Instead, he looks to his side, looks at Jongdae and into his eyes as they walk down the red carpet. The white lights expose them - the pimple beneath the thin layer of foundation on Jongdae's cheek, the tiny blemishes on Jongdae's forehead that his bangs cannot cover up anymore - but it doesn't wash Jongdae out. Instead, it sets Jongdae aglow, aflame, the light in him bright enough to light up the whole street.
'Stop staring. Smile,' Jongdae mouths at him. He follows without a second thought, sticks to this script Jongdae has written for him and takes a deep breath before turning to the media with a grin.
Lights, camera, action.
「after credits」
"We've noticed that you... haven't done romcom in a while," says someone from the press. The media person takes a deep breath, then continues, "Any chance you'd pick up a romcom script again soon?"
Jongdae looks around the room, scanning for familiar faces. The worst part of premieres is the press conference after, the part where media tries to stuff their own words down the actors' throats in the hope that the actors will choke on them and spew them out without preamble. Jongdae doesn't mind, for the most part - occasionally, he'd humor the media and maybe flirt with his co-actor. He'd indulge them in their request and act out a part in the movie that he would've done differently if he only had his way. And he'd tell them about his new favorite food because of a life-changing experience while working on the film. More bullshit that makes the crowd swoon. You have to do that sometimes, for the sake of your career. Allow yourself to be controlled by media so that, in turn, you can control them in the future.
He blows at his bangs, but only succeeds in blowing air into his nose. He rubs the underside of his nose, instead. "Well, it has been a while," he begins. "I... I don't know."
His gaze shifts to the back of the room when he sees Kyungsoo enter from the back door. He's just come from an interview with other people in the press. The bowtie he was complaining about earlier is now stuffed in the pocket of his coat. His suit still looks a bit too big on him, though, but Kyungsoo makes it work somehow. The coat hangs nicely from his shoulders and makes him look broad, look more like a celebrity than a director who prefers to work behind the scenes. The curl of his lips makes him look a bit too eager to know how Jongdae will handle the situation, how Jongdae will respond to the question. Kyungsoo can be an actor, if he wanted to. His acting isn't as bad as he proclaims it is. With a bit of practice, he'll be able to capture the hearts of people in a blink of an eye.
Kyungsoo doesn't have to try too hard, Jongdae muses. He just has to look at people in the eye the way he pinned Jongdae in place with a heavy gaze, a subtle smile, a hint of amusement in the way he cocks his eyebrow a little. He doesn't have to try so much at all.
"It depends on the script and my co-actors," Jongdae amends, then. He clears his throat, then meets Kyungsoo's gaze. "Or the cast and crew in general since it's important that you know you're working with people who can bring out the best in you, but... the deciding factor is the director." He nods, then, and chuckles when he sees Kyungsoo's lips fall open into a tiny 'o'. "Yeah, definitely the director."
Kyungsoo tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed as he mouths 'huh' in Jongdae's general direction. So Jongdae waits - for Kyungsoo to walk over to where he is and say, 'no way in hell am I doing romcom,' for Kyungsoo to shake his head to reiterate that this isn't part of the contract. This isn't part of the script. But Kyungsoo could use a bit of ad lib in his life, something fresh and new. Something he won't see coming until it hits him square on the nose - a question on the curve of Jongdae's mouth that says, 'so, romcom?' So Jongdae holds his gaze until Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, until Kyungsoo shakes his head and shrugs as if saying, 'Whatever. Fine. Romcom, it is.'
"And who do you have in mind?" the person from the media asks.
Jongdae laughs a little, tiny puffs of air prickling the microphone in soft thuds. From a few feet away, Kyungsoo sticks out his tongue at him. He purses his lips and juts them out just a little, enough to warrant a light shake of the head from Kyungsoo, a blush, a wicked grin on Kyungsoo's lips. It tickles his insides, makes his stomach lurch. It makes him want to bolt from his seat and point at Kyungsoo to say, 'That guy, just him. I can't work with anyone else.'
"Well, he's... not just in my mind. He's in my heart, as well," Jongdae answers. The person from the media widens his eyes and motions to bring his mic closer to his lips. Jongdae pushes himself away from the table, then, and stands from his seat. There are a hundred people in this room calling out his name, asking for a clarification, a confirmation, but the noise is drowned out by the loud thumping in Jongdae's chest, the thundering pulse at the back of his ears. Kyungsoo's words floating in the wind when Kyungsoo mouths at him, 'You are awful. The worst.'
'And you're the best,' Jongdae mouths right back. He leans back into the microphone briefly then says, "He's right here." When he turns on his heel, the presses the back of his hand to his lips to keep himself from laughing. His manager will probably kill him, but Li Yin isn't as strict as she seems. If she ever decides to lecture him on his weird career decisions, he can just keep replaying Kyungsoo's voice in his head, a clip where he says, 'Yeah, romcom, whatever. As long as we do it together, it shouldn't be too bad.'
The image of Kyungsoo's wild smile burns brightly at the back of his eyelids. He holds onto that image like a lifeline. Kyungsoo is the best motion picture waiting to happen.