Just Say Yes (4/7)
Sinsadong is quiet and calm at eight in the morning. Most of the restaurants aren't open yet, but the coffee shops in the area already are. Kyungsoo had passed A Twosome Place earlier and spotted two familiar faces - possibly stars in a drama who'd just come from an overnight shoot. A few meters away, he bumped into an old crew member exiting Starbucks. "You look better," was the only thing the man told him. Kyungsoo laughed a little, tried to swallow the last few strands of laughter spilling from his lips. At the end of their quick chat, he told the man, "We're releasing a new film next year, in spring. It will be great."
"You mean scary, right?" the man asked. Half of his mouth was still twisted in laughter. The other half looked unsettled, undecided. Kyungsoo wanted to reach over and push the tight corner of his lips up. "I heard you've moved on from action and shifted to horror. Hoping to challenge yourself?"
"I just want to try something new," was all Kyungsoo said in reply. Then he gave the man a curt nod and bid him goodbye. It was a little past eight in the morning then; he promised Jongdae that he'd be there are 8 a.m. sharp.
"Sorry, had to look for good parking!" Jongdae says now as he emerges from the doors of Cork for Turtle. His hair is a mess, sticking out in several different directions, but there's a semblance of order to it. Style. "I can't believe it, almost every spot here is taken," he goes on to say and slips out of his jacket. He holds it by the shoulders and folds it in a square twice the size of his hands. Kyungsoo reaches out and smoothens the creases on the fold. "It's just, what, 8 a.m.? You'd think that people won't be up yet at this time, but no-"
"Times have changed. 8 a.m.'s pretty late for a Gangnam breakfast appointment," Kyungsoo says. It's true - Cork for Turtle has moved their opening time to 7 a.m. to accommodate diners. They then pushed back the closing time to 11 p.m.. It's close to impossible to get a cab so easily at that late an hour in Gangnam, after all. If they were still living in the early 2000's, maybe, but this isn't the same old Gangnam that Kyungsoo first marveled at. Gangnam has changed, transformed along with the people inhabiting it. Or maybe it's the people that Gangnam has changed. "The wasabi latte is great."
"So I've heard," Jongdae says, then reaches for the menu. His fingers, cool and stiff, ghost over Kyungsoo's warm skin. Kyungsoo shivers a little, but masks it with a yawn that he stifles by biting the back of his hand. "Have you ever tried it?"
"A couple of years ago. When I was still in university." What he means is, it was one of Baekhyun's favorite drinks back when they were still young. The only time he's ever tasted it is from Baekhyun's lips. Strawberry was still Baekhyun's signature flavor, though. Smoke and strawberry and sins. "It tastes weird at first but you'll get the hang of it."
Jongdae squints, leaning in for a while, then leans back. "Nah, I think I'll pass," he says, and orders a vanilla latte, instead.
Jongdae isn't the most talkative company in the morning. Between breaks during shoots, he always has a lot of stories to tell - about the shoots he's attended before, funny things that have happened to him in the past, the rationale behind his outfit today - but between seven and eleven in the morning, he only ever responds with small smiles and a curt nod. His sentences are short, concise, and his voice is void of its usual lilts, the gradual rise in tone and the abrupt drops before it peaks again. And the corners of his mouth are tied in a tight knot, like he's been given orders to not smile and bare his teeth.
He is generous with touches, though. He asks Kyungsoo about the scenes they're shooting today and reaches for Kyungsoo's hands over the table. He rubs small circles on the sides of Kyungsoo's fingers but doesn't quite hold onto him, just stays there with their fingers touching, grazing each other. And he stares a while longer, like there's something he can't discern in the short time that their gazes meet so he leans closer to get a better look at Kyungsoo. But then affection comes to Jongdae just as naturally as breathing does to man - he can ruffle Sunyoung's hair and pinch her cheeks and whisper in her ear and it won't mean a thing. He can hold Kyungsoo's hands and pull away at the first sign of servers drawing closer to their table, then reach out to hold them longer and it won't mean anything at all.
"Better drink your coffee while it's hot," Kyungsoo mumbles, nodding in the direction of Jongdae's coffee cup. It was served ten minutes ago and Jongdae hasn't even touched it; it will get cold in a while. They've been here in the coffee shop for thirty minutes now and their call time is at ten; they don't have much time. "A latte doesn't taste as good when it's lukewarm."
"Oh, so you've tried other drinks? Mixes and sweet blends?" Jongdae reaches for the vanilla power and adds a dash to his drink. He takes some cinnamon powder, too, and sprinkles it on top. "For a minute, you had me thinking you were one of those purist coffee drinkers who only stick to their 'perfect black coffee'."
The last time anyone ever joked about Kyungsoo's affinity for coffee was in university. Chanyeol accidentally picked up the other group's order instead of theirs and was left with a plain latte, a cappuccino, and a caramel macchiato. Chanyeol claimed dibs on the cappuccino and Baekhyun snatched the macchiato at the first opportunity. And Kyungsoo remembers staring down at the tiny heart latte art on the foam. It was the best latte he's ever tasted, and the most experimental one at that. It took him a good two tablespoons of cinnamon to rid the coffee of the creamy taste and reduce it to the bare bones of the coffee flavor - something dark, rich. Something that tastes a lot like his usual Americano and not the too-milky latte.
"So your latte's good now?" Baekhyun had asked. His lips were red from being worried too much, from being bitten too hard to keep himself from cackling.
"You have to see for yourself," Kyungsoo replied. He looked around for an audience and leaned closer, close enough that Baekhyun could dart of his tongue and taste hints of coffee on Kyungsoo's lips. Close enough that all Baekhyun had to do was to inch closer and their mouths would meet in an inelegant dance, a crashing of lips against lips. Baekhyun's tongue, hot and heavy and on a quest for something licking every inch of coffee off of Kyungsoo's mouth so Kyungsoo could taste like Baekhyun again.
Kyungsoo cracks his neck now and laughs a little. It's a conscious decision to stick to black coffee and nothing else. It's almost like a habit now - he can walk to his kitchen and load up the coffee in his coffee machine to make himself a nice cup of basic black without giving it much thought. So he replies, "I am a purist coffee drinker," then takes a sip of his Americano. "And I'm your boss, so again: drink your coffee now so we can leave in ten minutes."
Jongdae holds his gaze for a moment, leans in, then leans back against his seat. "Baekhyun was right: you do have a way with convincing people that your way is the only way to do things," he says, then sinks his lips in his drink. He takes a sip, and another, and another, until the liquid scalds his tongue and he yelps in response. "Fuck."
"Careful," it slips from Kyungsoo's lips. He drops his eyes to the two sunny side ups beaming at him from his place and scores a line along the middle of one egg. "I said eat fast, not burn your tongue."
"It's the same thing," Jongdae groans. He hasn't stopped drinking his coffee yet, though, and his speech is clearer now. His syllables are no longer muffled by sleep and fatigue. And there's the same glint in the way his crinkles his eyes again, like the coffee has suddenly breathed life into him. "But wow, this tastes great."
It does, Kyungsoo muses when he risks a glance at Jongdae. There's a question written on the curve of Jongdae's lips, in the way he juts out his bottom lip and sucks in his cheeks. A blink and then it's gone, replaced instead by the food that Jongdae's stuffing in his mouth.
Kyungsoo turns his attention to the eggs, and carefully slices one sunny side up like he would a pizza. He eats his food in silence and watches as Jongdae does the same. Under the table, Jongdae hooks his ankle on Kyungsoo's own. The slide of their ankles, bones brushing against each other's skin, tickles.
The goal is to accomplish a key scene and two small ones that will serve as the 'glue' to the next key scene before lunch time. They're right on track: the set has already been made up by the time they arrive at the location. Kyungsoo still remembers the exposure setting of the cameras from last night's shoot. Baekhyun is running Sehun through his lines and making sure that he enunciates each syllable properly, "No contractions, no skips. Open your goddamned mouth, Jesus-" Joonmyun walks over to help out because he's in the same scene, anyway. Minseok only watches from the sidelines and pitches his comments every so often.
"Emphasis on the second line," Minseok calls out. He moves closer, looking over Joonmyun's shoulder to take a peek at the script. "This part, where you go, 'I feel like I haven't been the brother I was supposed to be to him, like I've let him down,' try to add a pause between the first part of the line and the second. Like you don't want to admit to yourself that you're a let down." He walks behind Sehun, then, and pulls his shoulders back. Pounds the middle with his fist, too, for good measure, as Sehun clears his throat. "Don't be afraid to open your mouth. You'll be able to deliver lines better when you actually pronounce the words."
"And not just croak them out, yeah," Baekhyun says in agreement. He gestures for Sunyoung and Jongdae to come closer, to walk over to where he is. Kyungsoo cranes his neck and meets Baekhyun's gaze in the midst of the flurry of people. Baekhyun addresses him with a wink. To the lead actors, Baekhyun says, "This is the turning point of the movie for your relationship. I don't like putting pressure on people but if there's one scene you have to perfect, it's this one. You can half-ass everything else."
"He's kidding, of course," Kyungsoo says, slapping Baekhyun on the ass. Baekhyun grins, but only until Kyungsoo hits the back of his head. "But he's right: this is one of the most important parts of the movie. If we have to spend two hours just perfecting it then I don't give a fuck - I'm not calling it a good take until you two nail the exact emotion that the scene is trying to convey."
Sunyoung nods, slow and deliberate. Beside her, Jongdae gulps hard, Adam's apple bobbing in accord. Their shoulders rise - sharp, coordinated, like they already have each other's bodies memorized. Jongdae leans a little in his side and reaches over to ruffle her hair, but then Sunyoung has already wheeled herself to her side to narrowly miss Jongdae's attack. She sneers at him, sticks her tongue out at him and gives his arm a light poke. It looks a lot like one of the scenes in the film where Jongdae's character tries to get Sunyoung's character's attention but then Sunyoung's too deep in what she's doing to even give him a passing glance. So Jongdae nudged her in her side with his elbow then pretended to not know a thing when Sunyoung looked around, searching for the culprit.
It almost looks like a scene that can happen in real life - two actors who have slipped out of their personas and slipped into their respective skins again. This is Jongdae and Sunyoun, not Junho and Minyoung. They're not acting; this is real life.
Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. Maybe they can get the scene in one take. Maybe they could. They have to.
Sunyoung drops her script to the closest table and cracks her knuckles. She casts a glance at Jongdae, then at Kyungsoo before nodding. "Let's do this!"
The scene starts with Sunyoung entering Jongdae's room. It's smack in the middle of the afternoon, which mean it's Jongdae's 'play time,' one of those few times when he doesn't have to worry about his therapies and being asked all these questions that ultimately won't serve any purpose but just give doctors data on whatever. Jongdae plays with the hem of his shirt in lieu of playing with a Lego set, as dictated by the script, and Sunyoung cranes her neck a little to check what Jongdae's doing. Baekhyun lets out a soft grunt and Sunyoung takes it as her cue to 'enter', to step inside Jongdae's tiny world that he's recently been so apprehensive with letting people explore. In the previous scene, he only let Sehun and Sunyoung inside - Sehun, because he's his brother, and Sunyoung because she never prods when Jongdae decides to reply to her questions with silence. He shunned Minseok away even before Minseok could come within twelve inches of him. He gave Joonmyun a pointed stare when Joonmyun tried to weasel his way inside the room.
"Can I come in?" Sunyoung asks, nonetheless, voice soft and tentative. Jongdae looks up, then twists his fist in his shirt. A corner of Kyungsoo's mouth tugs up - that one isn't even scripted. It's so natural a response that it almost looks as if Jongdae and Sunyoung aren't acting, like they're just portraying an extension of life.
Kyungsoo gulps hard. He balls his hands into fists. He leans closer, studying every shift of their muscles and the slightest quirk of their mouths. This can go two ways: one gets carried away and the other gets swept into the mess, or they carry out the scene in peace. No NGs. A perfect take on the first try. Their best practice session yet.
Kyungsoo cracks his neck a little. They've just started practicing. It's too early to tell. So he bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from muttering a comment, to keep himself in check.
Jongdae hasn't let go of his shirt yet, but his knuckles aren't as white anymore. He hums. It's enough to urge Sunyoung to go on, to step inside his private space and wheel herself over to where he is. "I got you a snack," she says, then transfers an imaginary tray from her hands to his lap. Right now, it's the script she's abandoned earlier. The corners are littered with dog ears. The edges are filled with doodles in different colors of ink. "Thought you'd be hungry after... After that session with Kim-sonsaengnim."
Jongdae snorts. He shifts a little in his seat, then turns to face Sunyoung. He looks up at her, then, through his bangs that have fallen over his eyes. Kyungsoo wants to reach over, to brush Jongdae's hair away so Jongdae can see clearer and look in the right direction-
- And that's not uncertainty, Kyungsoo decides. The listless eyes, the way Jongdae sucks in his bottom lip and chews on it without a care in the world or without even thinking that he'd regret it later - that isn't Junho's uncertainty. Junho uses the lip twitch, the subtle quirk of his mouth and the light scrunch of his nose. He uses his hands, his arms. His eyes are mostly void of emotions and all his feelings are expressed through the shift of his facial muscles. And this character, the one Jongdae is portraying at the moment, this isn't the Kim Junho who's been bullied and has been driven out of his mind after his parents suffered a most painful death and led to live a life here in the facility. This isn't Junho.
This is Jongdae, Kim Jongdae, the same man who'd helped push back his glasses last night, the same guy who'd driven him home to make sure that he got to his place safely. This is Kim Jongdae, that kid back in Donghae-si who'd spread out his arms and shield the weirdo kid from the being assaulted by bullies, the same kid who'd bite his bottom lip to keep it from trembling because there's only one of him and four of those other kids. The same kid who'd wrap his arms around Kyungsoo's hunched figure because, 'They're too strong, little kid. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you when I swore I would-'
"I'm okay," Jongdae mutters. It takes a while before he stops fiddling with the hem of his shirt. There's a shadow of Junho in there, somewhere. Then he pats the empty seat beside him, coaxing Sunyoung to move closer. "We can... split."
Sunyoung's eyes widen. Kyungsoo looks to his side and meets Baekhyun's gaze - or at least that's the intent, but then Baekhyun's eyes are still on the two. And he's smiling. He's grinning from ear to ear like he's watching the script he'd written come to life exactly how he wants it to. But there's something missing, Kyungsoo muses as he turns his attention back to the two. There's still something in Sunyoung that's missing even when she takes a sharp breath and leaves her lips hanging parted as she watches Jongdae reach for her hand.
"Closer," Jongdae says through gritted teeth. It isn't in the script, but it works somehow. Sunyoung moves forward, shortening the distance between them. Their knees almost bump. Jongdae shivers a little, his head doing a funny twitch before he fixes Sunyoung with a gaze. "There. Better."
"Better?" Sunyoung asks, blinking.
The tight corners of Jongdae's mouth ease into a smile. "Better," Kyungsoo finds himself whispering as Jongdae delivers his line, as Jongdae says the same thing. Jongdae covers Sunyoung's small hand, the one that's no longer keeping the 'tray' on Jongdae's lap balanced, and gives it a light squeeze. "Much better."
Sunyoung opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again. Her lips are dry and chapped and she's gritting her teeth. And her chest is heaving. It isn't cold where they are, not in this part of the set, and neither is it too warm, but sweat is trickling down the curve of her face. And Jongdae's eyes are drawn to that lone bead of sweat trailing her cheeks, leaving a faint mark of a line brighter than the rest of Sunyoung's face. Her make-up isn't supposed to be uneven.
Sunyoung rests her gaze on Jongdae's lips. She lifts her hand a little, then slots her fingers between Jongdae's own. Something flickers in Jongdae's eyes - shock, surprise, a flash of vulnerability? - but it's gone as soon as he looks down at the link of their hands. Sunyoung's fingers look so slender, so short when pressed against Jongdae's own. If Jongdae curled his fingers around Sunyoung's hand then he could keep her skin warm, keep her protected. Keep her from taking pebbles to the back of her hand because, 'You're weird, weird, weird! Who'd even want to play with you, huh? Hey, kid, speak up! Are you mute or something? Too afraid, scared out of your wits?'
Kyungsoo shakes his head. He keeps his eyes wide open long enough to catch a misplaced emotion in Sunyoung's eyes. The furrow of her eyebrows says, 'Well, hello there, Kim Jongdae.' The twist of her mouth asks, 'Why are you doing this? This- This isn't part of the script-'
"Cut," Kyungsoo mutters. From a corner of his eye, he sees Baekhyun shift his gaze and cock an eyebrow at him. "Cut," he repeats, much louder now. Jongdae's fingers jerk a little. Sunyoung looks up, then looks over her shoulder. "Cut! There's- You have to-" Kyungsoo stands from his seat to walk over to where Jongdae and Sunyoung are. He grips them both by the wrists and shakes them to loosen the link of their fingers. Jongdae drops his hand to his thigh first; the knot in Kyungsoo's chest loosens second.
"What... What's wrong?" Sunyoung asks. She glances at her lifted palm, then looks to her side. "Boss? Did we mess up the scene? I mean, this is just practice and we can still fix it this early-"
Don't look at him that way, he wants to tell Sunyoung. Don't look at him like he's the only one who matters because that's not in the script. Don't look at him like you've finally realized -- really realized, like taken a nasty bump to your head or a violent jerk of the shoulders - that within this guy's soul is someone who understands you. That this person who people are saying is weird and crazy and doesn't understand how emotions work is the same person who can tell, just by looking at you, that you're down. That for once, you need someone to help you up instead of being the one doing it for people.
Jongdae is good at mirroring expressions, making them feel special. He's good at bouncing emotions back at people. So Kyungsoo wants to tell Sunyoung to not fall for Jongdae's charms because it's not right. This is not part of the script.
"I need you to show a bit of confusion in your actions. In your eyes. A bt of-" Jongdae twists his hand a little. The pads of his fingers are cool against Kyungsoo's warm skin. A traitorous cold slithers down his spine then back up, gripping him by his nape and grabbing a fistful of his hair. He shivers. Jongdae's palm is warm and his pulse is strong against Kyungsoo's skin. He bites the inside of his cheek in an effort to steady his voice. "-apprehension. You're conflicted because this is the first time Jongdae-"
"Junho," Jongdae corrects. He clears his throat. "That was Junho, not me."
"I wish I could agree but what I saw back there wasn't your character. The facial expressions, the small emotional cues - those weren't Junho. That was you," Kyungsoo answers. He presses his lips together and meets Jongdae's gaze, heavy and focused. Jongdae isn't even blinking, just staring at him like he wants to say something but can't find the words just yet. Or maybe he's looking for the right window of opportunity, the perfect time to strike and the perfect timing to strike the hardest. "Again, you have to put some distance between your character and yourself. If you want to relay a message-"
"-then there should be a clear delineation between the character and actor," Sunyoung continues. She breathes out, chest heaving. "Because if you get too emotional, you'll end up a sobbing mess on set."
"Right. And that's not what we're here for. We're here to communicate an idea, a thought. A message." Kyungsoo shifts his gaze between the two, then cranes his neck in search of the rest of the cast. Joonmyun and Minseok are not too far away. Sehun's pushing himself off the wall and nodding at him as if saying, 'I'm listening, boss, go on.' "So you'll need to balance your emotions. And remember, do not use personal experience as the seed of emotion. Use other people's experiences, that's fine, but if you use your own then you'll fall prey to getting too emotional during takes."
Jongdae tilts his head to the side. "How emotional is 'too emotional'?"
Kyungsoo pins him with a gaze. His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, blurring Jongdae's features a little. Then too many images flash right before his eyes - that night back in Jongdae's car, just the two of them with nothing but songs from the radio and their heavy breathing to break the white noise. Jongdae reaching up to cup one of Kyungsoo's cheeks and helping him push his glasses up his nose again. Jongdae pulling away with an easy smile, yet his gaze not waning from where it's fixed on the giving bow of Kyungsoo's mouth. Jongdae inching closer just a bit and pinching the tip of Kyungsoo's nose. Kyungsoo flinching a little. Shivering. Shaking.
Not in the script: Jongdae rubbing slow circles on Kyungsoo's thigh the whole time. Even hours after, when he'd gotten up this morning, he could still feel the burn of Jongdae's touch. And this - Jongdae leaving marks on him with the patterns he's tracing on Kyungsoo's skin - he'll feel the dull ache of it until he has to leave the set after packing up. He'll feel it in the morning and maybe even until after breakfast. And if Jongdae ever pulls out his phone again at an obscene hour and says, 'Hey, I'm staying in Apgeu today. Wanna have breakfast together before going to the set?' the sting of Jongdae's touch will stay with him until the next time Jongdae touches him. And Jongdae loves touching, leaving traces of himself on people.
"When you can't control the cracking of your voice or the trembling of your fingers," Kyungsoo begins. He takes a step back, but inches closer to Sunyoung. "When you forget your lines so badly that your ad libs sound nothing like what you're supposed to say. When you forget that you're acting and not living a real life, and when your touches stop being calculated - that's 'too emotional'. That's losing control. That is not responsible acting."
Jongdae breathes in through his nose. He makes a weird, heaving sound as he exhales, but he swallows the rest of the sound when he yawns. He clasps a hand over his mouth. His eyes disappear into slits and the corners of his mouth tug up. Later, he'll be smiling as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't screwed up. He'll be grinning at Kyungsoo and saying, 'Chill, this is just practice. We can do a couple more runs until we get it right.' And he'll be turning to Sunyoung with his bright eyes and even brighter smile and extending his hand in Sunyoung's direction, as if in invitation.
Jongdae hums and nods in acknowledgement. Tightens his grip on Kyungsoo's wrist, too, before pulling away all the way. "Got it. I'll do better next time," he promises, then lets their linked hands fall to his side. He turns to face Sunyoung and asks, "One more? You good with another round?"
Sunyoung looks up. She nods in agreement and flashes Kyungsoo a big smile. "We're ready whenever you are, boss."
Kyungsoo clears his throat. He runs his thumb along his wrist. Jongdae's touch still burns. "Control," he says through gritted teeth, and cocks his eyebrow at Jongdae. "Don't draw emotions from your own experiences. Anything-"
"-in excess is bad, yes," Baekhyun finishes. He rests a hand on Kyungsoo's shoulder. It's warmer than it should be, but maybe that's because the rest of Kyungsoo's body feels cold. It isn't even raining outside, and the red heads here on set are turned on. "Remember: don't lose control. I love the ad libs but sometimes it takes longer to get to the main point when you spew lines at random. Try to find a nice balance between spontaneous and scripted."
Kyungsoo looks to his side. Baekhyun only casts him a glance, but a corner of his lips tugs up. "Can we ask for a demo, then?" comes Jongdae's voice, faint at first then slowly gaining cadence. "So that Sunyoung and I will have a guide as to how the scene should look. Maybe you and boss, Baek?"
Baekhyun snorts. "I'm a shitty actor. I'd rather not watch hear myself delivering lines. The last time that happened-"
-was in university. Kyungsoo can still remember that day. They were in their scriptwriting class and their professor instructed them to read the script out loud as part of the critiquing session. 'If it sounds weird when you say it then it probably shouldn't be there,' their professor said, then made Baekhyun repeat the lines. Only when Baekhyun solicited Kyungsoo's help to 'act opposite him' was he able to communicate the emotions clearly. Only then, and Kyungsoo will always say that it's a one-time thing, did he discover that he could act. Or at least do voice acting. 'There's something about the way you-' Their professor trailed off, grinning as he looked at them. Then he turned back to the class and said, 'That's the benchmark. Outclass them and you get plus five points in tomorrow's exam.'
"Boss and Jongdae-oppa, then," Sunyoung suggests. Kyungsoo shifts his gaze to her and tilts his head a little. "I have an idea of how to nail the scene but I want to see how you do it. Just- If we can do the scene in one take later, then that's great. And I want to make that happen."
Jongdae looks up and meets Kyungsoo's gaze. Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, traps the air right there in his chest until a corner of Jongdae's mouth curls up. "If that's okay with you, at least," Jongdae says. His voice has dropped to a whisper. It's almost as if he's humming. Breathing. "But it would be great if you showed us how to do it. I'll be able to learn a lot from the demo, too."
This is a trap, Kyungsoo tells himself. He's caught in a sticky web of responsibility and emotions and it's hard to get out. How can he when he can still feel the sting of Jongade's touch on his skin? How can he free himself from the web of Jongdae's charm when he can still feel the way Jongdae had curled his fingers around his wrist, or the way Jongdae reached for the tips of his fingers so he could slip his hand in Kyungsoo's own over breakfast? How can he when Jongdae's looking at him right now, really looking at him with lips slightly parted and a smile tugging the corners up just so, like he's saying, 'Are you seriously considering saying no? You know you can't. Come on, boss. Come on, Kyungsoo-'
"I don't mind," Kyungsoo mutters. He tilts his head to the side just a little. To Jongdae, he says, "Take your place over there. We're doing the entire scene until the part when Sunyoung has to pull away." He gulps hard. "Watch closely."
Kyungsoo clears his throat and locks his arms in front of him. "Ready?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow at Jongdae. Jongdae nods in response and assumes his starting place a few feet away. "Okay. Action!"
It's been years since he's last shown an actor how to handle a scene. He's used to giving instructions, telling people how it has to be done, but using his whole body to communicate the script isn't something he does on the regular. His script supervisor back when he was still doing action was an ex-stuntman, so he didn't have to run his actors through stunts and 'reaction routines'. In fact, he hadn't been forced to act since university, for film class. And even then, he'd only been a minor character. One of those extras who'd react to the main action scene happening on the streets. He's always worked behind the camera, behind the lens. He doesn't mind doing most of the production grunt work; he can't bear the heat of six studio lights shining down on him, anyway. Illuminating his imperfections and putting all of them on display. He doesn't like the scrutiny. So it isn't weird that he can feel his throat drying up or his chest constricting as he takes one step forward to where Jongdae is, knowing that there are people watching him. He can see Sunyoung leaning closer, eyebrows knit, from a corner of his eye. He can see Baekhyun's gaze, careful and assessing, as he inches even closer. And he can feel the string connecting him to Jongdae shaking everytime Jongdae drums his fingers on his thigh.
He knocks on the imaginary door thrice - because that's one of Minyoung's signals to Junho that it's her and not one of the doctors. It gives Junho time to ease himself into the concept of sharing the same space with a person, the only person who understands what he's going through at the moment. "Can I come in?" he asks after a while. Jongdae looks up, turns his head a little, then nods. He walks over to where Jongdae is, steps slow and calculated. Sunyoung has made 'her Minyoung' a slow-walker, unlike most nurses who are always in a rush to get from one place to another. He has to capture that even if this is just a demo.
"Thought you could use something to eat," he begins. He tilts his head to the side and searches for Jongdae's eyes. His features are pulled down and he looks tired. It's perfect. He's supposed to have come from an early session with Minseok and Kyungsoo - no, Minyoung - is disturbing his quiet time. He's supposed to look like he wants to make Kyungsoo leave. "After that session with Kim-sonsaengnim."
Jongdae snorts, laughs a little. It's carried away by the wind, the thick blanket of white noise just as soon as it leaves his lips. "Thanks," he mumbles, then turns around. There's a small tremble in his fingers, in the way he pats the space beside him and meets Kyungsoo's gaze. This isn't that part of the script yet. Jongdae's missing his 'I'm okay' line, but Kyungsoo plays along anyway. "Closer," Jongdae adds, voice barely above a whisper. Kyungsoo can hear the tremor in it, the shake, the way he chokes on the second syllable. It's a force reeling him in, trapping him on either side of him leaving him no choice but to move forward. "Come closer- There."
Kyungsoo bends his knees and occupies the empty seat beside Jongdae. He lays the imaginary tray down on his lap, then looks up at Jongdae. From where he is, Jongdae seems so much taller, bigger. Larger than his character and life. There's no sunlight setting him aglow and neither is there wind to tousle his hair in the slightest, gentlest way, but he has a presence so big contained in such a small frame that Kyungsoo wonders for a moment how he contains everything inside.
His breath hitches. He can taste acid on the roof of his mouth. Focus, he tells himself, and swallows hard. "You should eat," he says to Jongdae, then motions to unwrap something. Chips and processed food aren't allowed in Junho's diet, not at this stage. He puts the 'food' down, then, and reaches for a glass of water. "Or drink first. You haven't had anything since nine in the morning."
Jongdae's features shift a little. He cocks his eyebrows, eyes widening in something akin to surprise. A corner of his lips tugs up. "I'm okay. I'm not hungry. Not… very hungry, I mean." He reaches for the invisible tray and sets it down on his lap. "We... We can split," Jongdae says, syllables spaced out. He parts his lips, licks them, then purses them together. Kyungsoo leans back a little and looks the other way. If Baekhyun ever calls him out on being overly dramatic then he can say that this is Minyoung displaying confusion in her actions. Minyoung never second guesses her movement. Maybe her words, but never a laugh or a smile or a touch. And he has to be Minyoung right now.
"I said, come closer-" Jongdae reaches out, but doesn't stretch his arm all the way. When he drops his hand to the side, the tips of their fingers brush. That's when Jongdae leans in and slips his fingers between Kyungsoo's own. That's when Jongdae presses their palms together and pulls Kyungsoo closer. The friction of his skin against the material of the chair burns a little. He should've known better than to wear shorts to a shoot. He should've known better than to agree to demonstrate how a scene should be acted out.
But it's his job do make his actors' lives easier. It's his job to bring out the best in his cast and his crew, and to hell if he'll get marks on the underside of his thighs from being pulled from the middle of bench to one corner. If it gets the job done, then he'll do whatever it takes. Now, this is the price he has to pay - Jongdae's palm sweaty and sticky against his own, Jongdae's pulse loud and heavy against his skin. Jongdae's gaze focused, determined as he traces the dip of the bridge of Kyungsoo's nose. Jongdae's lips parting in a dull 'pop' as Kyungsoo sucks in his bottom lip and asks, "Better?"
Jongdae's chest is heaving. Kyungsoo can feel his own pulse at the back of his ears, the base of his throat. "Much better," comes Jongdae's breathless reply. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth. His upper lip is still quivering.
Kyungsoo feels around for the food and ends up with his free hand settling on Jongdae's thigh. He holds Jongdae's gaze a little longer and sees himself reflected in Jongdae's eyes - his expression looks twisted, a bad mix of confusion and frustration and something he can't quite place yet. His eyebrows are furrowed a little and he keeps parting his lips then pressing them together again. It's as if he's forgotten his line, the line Baekhyun had written, the dialogue they'd worked on. Minyoung's line where the more logical voice at the back of her head snaps her back to reality and this moment and makes her say, "You want me to break the bread for you?"
Jongdae jerks back. His eyes are wide open. He tilts his head to the side as he takes a deep breath. Kyungsoo looks down at the link of their hands, at the way Jongdae's hand swallows his own, marvels at the way the warm press of Jongdae's palm to the back of his hand sets his heart at ease somehow. His pulse slows down a little, but Jongdae's is still beating hard and fast. Like a broken record that's saying, 'Oh, there you are. There you are.'
Jongdae's fingers relax against Kyungsoo's own. Kyungsoo leans in, searching for Jongdae's eyes, and nods when Jongdae lets slip a soft 'oh' in recognition. "I'll get to it," Kyungsoo says, then, to fulfill what's in the script. After this, Jongdae will drop pieces of information about his morning, tell Sunyoung about how the session with Minseok went. And Sunyoung will feel it in every fiber in her body - this man understands her like nobody else. This man who was once so repulsive of the thought of communicating with people after being shuffled to this institution s reaching out to her and teaching her a lesson: that despite whatever life throws at you, you can always get back up. Your friends and family will be your crutches. You just have to make that conscious decision to get up and move on. Pan to the sky, fade to black. Dramatic upsound. The end.
But before that, this is what the script dictates them to do. Jongdae follows it to the very last detail:
Jongdae rubs his thumb on the back of Kyungsoo's hand before snatching the piece of bread from him; Jongdae breaks it into several smaller pieces of varying sizes. "Open up," he tells Kyungsoo then runs his thumb along the swell of Kyungsoo's bottom lip. He rests it on one corner and pulls up at it, like he means to make Kyungsoo smile. Maybe Kyungsoo should. Jongdae pulls away with a soft smile, but leans back in to catch the crumbs falling off of Kyungsoo's lips. He sucks in his thumb after that, licking at it, and says, "That was nice."
"Was it?" Jongdae asks later, after practice. Baekhyun has already excused himself to check the lighting set up, while Sunyoung has gone off with Sehun to help him with his lines. It's just him and Kyungsoo here, not quite separated from the rest of the group not close enough to the set. The light doesn't reach them, doesn't light up Jongdae's features. It doesn't make him look as if he's glowing. It does accentuate the light curl of his lips, though, the shy twist of his mouth life he wants say more.
Kyungsoo licks his lips and makes sure not to miss the corners. His stomach lurches at the same time that Jongdae wiggles his eyebrows at him. "It was good. Keep it up," he says in reply, then turns on his heel to head to the set. When he holds the camera in his hands and looks through the viewfinder to check the focus, he feels his hands shaking. And he sees Jongdae's smile - bright, blinding, disarming - through the lens, sees Jongdae looking straight at the camera-
-at him.
"Okay. Talk." Chanyeol arranges the side dishes on the table, sorting them by color, then pours Kyungsoo a shot of soju. "You remembered to use your phone to call me at a normal human hour. Spill. Now."
Kyungsoo mumbles a soft 'thanks' as he takes the shot glass from Chanyeol. They finished taping earlier than expected, nailing most key scenes in one take. They spent the last two hours shooting fillers and reaction shots, while Baekhyun crossed off scenes in their shot list. They're down to the last ten scenes of the movie, the last two 'key events' in the film. It won't be too long until they reach the ending. Jongdae and Sunyoung have already established attraction for each other in that scene where Jongdae just lets Sunyoung walk inside the room because he has the sound of Sunyoung's footsteps memorized like the back of his hand. Sehun hasn't stopped thanking Sunyoung for taking care of his brother just yet, but has slowly developed a distaste for Minseok. They're doing the confrontation scene between Minseok and Sehun tomorrow. By now, it has become difficult to separate the character from the actor and vice versa, but Kyungsoo tries his best to use the characters' names when needed. It's not Minseok who's an asshole and won't take time to understand Jongdae's condition. It's Jaesuk. It's not Joonmyun who's trying to convince Minseok to listen to Jongdae. It's Dongryul. It's not Jongdae who reached up to cup Sunyoung's face then tuck her hair behind her ears, "So I can see you better." It's Junho. And it's Minyoung who's making Junho's heart beat fast. It's Minyoung.
This is a film. They're just sticking to the goddamned script. This isn't real life.
"Do I have to get you drunk just to get you to talk?" Chanyeol asks. He reaches over and gives Kyungsoo's cheek a light pinch. Kyungsoo snarls in response. "Oh, there you go. You're actually alive. You can talk."
"It's him," Kyungsoo mutters. He laughs a little. From a corner of his eye, he sees the meat on the grill sizzling so he reaches for the tongs and turns the meat over. Chanyeol somehow interprets that as a window of opportunity to feed him with a slice of yellow radish. He winces a little at the sour flavor, but soon the sweet aftertaste takes over his taste buds. Makes him shiver a little, then eases him back into a more comfortable state. "He came from Donghae-si and his life story matches that of the guy's. And he looks like him. Sort of." He rubs the tip of his nose. "I don't know if he recognizes me but-"
"But who the hell cares? You've found your hero." Chanyeol clashes his chopsticks with the tongs Kyungsoo is holding. Kyungsoo pulls away, then, and hands the tongs to Chanyeol. He's more patient with cooking meat, after all. "Granted, you haven't really been 'looking' for him but when I found you back in high school- Man, you kept talking about that guy, kept wanting to go back to Donghae-si just to find him and ask for his name." He turns the slices of meat over, then tosses some garlic cloves into the grill. The oil crackles and sizzles. It makes Kyungsoo's breath hitch. "And now you have exactly that."
"I'm still not a hundred percent sure."
"Yeah, because you're 200% sure." Chanyeol takes a few pieces of meat and drops them into Kyungsoo's bowl. "Wish I could help but I don't know this mysterious hero of yours. I just know he's messing up with your mind. Fucking up your system. How dare he, geez." He pauses for a while to add some kimchi to the grill, then looks up. He grins at Kyungsoo. "I like it."
Kyungsoo groans and rolls his eyes. "Asshole."
"Thanks, babe," Chanyeol says. Kyungsoo takes three slices from the meat bundle Chanyeol has given him and transfers them to Chanyeol's bowl. "I love you, too."
Kyungsoo looks up and finds Chanyeol adding a fresh batch of meat. There's a bit of red sauce on the pocket of his white polo. "Same, asshole," he whispers right back before gesturing at Chanyeol's top. "And make a bib out of the big table napkins. You don't want to get stuff on your shirt."
"Oh, right. I'm-" Chanyeol hands Kyungsoo the tongs and begins to work on his bib. "I should've changed into something else. Or maybe I shouldn't have answered your call and just went home straight because I just came from following up on one of my artists."
Kyungsoo adds in the remaining garlic in the plate. He catches the small smile that surfaces on Chanyeol's lips. He laughs a little. "Your favorite?"
"If you meant the one who gives me the most headache, then yes. He's the best the company has seen in years, though," Chanyeol replies. He looks up, meeting Kyungsoo's gaze for a moment, then tilts his head. "Wanna cook?"
He means, if cooking will make you feel a bit better then please order more meat. Kyungsoo nods. "Yeah. I need to cook."
"Cool. I'll order more meat. Pork, right? Or-" Chanyeol kicks him in his calves under the table. "Beef?"
Kyungsoo sets the tongs down on his plate. The last time Chanyeol asked him what he felt like cooking was when Baekhyun disappeared without a trace. In fact, that was the last time Chanyeol let him cook at all because Kyungsoo has a habit of either overcooking or undercooking meat. "You're all extremes: hot and cold, happy and sad. Man, it's just- You have no in-betweens," Baekhyun had said then. He had this half-scowl, half-smile thing going on with his mouth. It was weird and twisted. This was the compromise, Kyungsoo mused. If he couldn't find a nice in-between then Baekhyun was willing to be exactly that, but only for a short period of time. The first few months of their tryst, he called Kyungsoo 'mysterious'. After the first year, Baekhyun called Kyungsoo 'exciting'. Fast forward three years after and he was calling Kyungsoo 'all extremes'. He was beginning to run out of nice things to say. This uncertainty being a constant thing was boring the hell out of Baekhyun. And Baekhyun hated 'boring'.
"Anything you want," Kyungsoo says now, nodding in Chanyeol's direction. It's only fair - Chanyeol let him cook and eat all the beef he wanted that time until he threw up even if Chanyeol's preferred meat was pork. Chanyeol rubbed circles on his back and pulled back his hair. And Chanyeol tucked him in bed and made him swear to not to send Baekhyun that text drafted in his messages - you're a fnuckning ashole i curse the dya you where born.
"Are you sure? You're good with pork?" Chanyeol asks again. He kicks Kyungsoo under the table again and rubs the tip of his shoe against Kyungsoo's calf this time. It's supposed to be disgusting because Chanyeol's day is 70% running around town and 30% staying in the office to review manhwa proofs, but then this is Chanyeol. He's seen Chanyeol fit boxers in front of him, has gone camping with Chanyeol and even 'stood guard' over the place where Chanyeol took a dump in the forest. And Chanyeol has seen him in his lowest points in life and helped him get up. So if there's anyone who's disgusting between the two of them, it's him. It isn't Chanyeol and his silly antics. It's always been him.
"Yeah. Anything you want," Kyungsoo says. He rubs the tip of his nose. He reaches over, then, adding more kimchi to the grill and mixing them with the meat. Chanyeol likes his samgyupsal like that, twisted as it may seem. "You can't let me always have my way. That's not your job."
Chanyeol snorts. "My job is to keep you sane. I just happen to like meat, too."
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. Under the table, he bumps his ankle into Chanyeol's. Chanyeol laughs a little. "Yeah, very convenient. I mean it, though - if you want pork then let's get pork. I've already-" He checks the meat - one side is already cooked. It has already taken on a nice, golden brown color. He turns over the slices. "I've already bothered you enough as it is. It's the least I could do to, you know-"
"Dude, I keep you sane because I like it," Chanyeol counters. He tosses chopped chili into the mix. Kyungsoo parts his lips to speak, but sinks right back into his seat. Extra spicy pork doesn't seem like such a bad idea, after all. And Chanyeol makes weird food work somehow. Chanyeol won't let him down. "And you're not 'bothering' me. I'm your friend; of course I want to keep you sane! Of course I want to make you happy! I keep telling you: it's not a crime to need people from time to time. To keep you company or something, help you relax or whatever. To help you." Chanyeol blows at his bangs. He squints his eyes when the sharp tips hit his eyes. He brushes them away, then, resurfacing. His gaze is sharp, but as welcoming as ever. It's like getting lost somewhere along the way and finding his way back again. It's like leaving Donghae-si to live in the busier neighborhood of Anyang-si, but still craning his neck to get a glimpse of the place he has come to call 'home'.
Kyungsoo gulps hard. His throat feels dry. His chest feels really tight and heavy. It's not easy depending on people, entrusting them with a piece of yourself and expecting that they'd take care of it. It's not easy opening up and giving up a part of you, a space in your life to make room for others. Or maybe it is for some people, but not for Kyungsoo. He's spent his entire childhood trying to be desirable, to be 'just like them'. Then he met a kindred soul who swore to protect him. But then that hero was taken away from him.
And Kyungsoo has found him again here, in the set of a horror movie too many years after. And maybe Jongdae recognizes him as that kid from years back, the same little guy whose body he's covered with his own in an effort to protect him from bullies. And Chanyeol's reaching out now, reaching for the pads of Kyungsoo's fingers.
Kyungsoo moves closer, then, meeting him halfway. "It sounds like a bother sometimes," Kyungsoo mumbles. Chanyeol scrunches his face in response. "You've got your own shit to deal with and I have mine. You... don't have to carry my crosses. We're all fighting a battle-"
"And it's not a battle that you can win alone, not all the time," Chanyeol says. "It's not a crime to ask for help, especially from people who care. You can't solve all the problems of the world alone, Soo. You need people to help you with that. You need people to help you realize a couple of things. And you need someone to tell you right now that you're crazy for even thinking that you're being a bother." He kicks at Kyungsoo's calf under the table. It hurts. It fucking stings, but maybe Kyungsoo needed that kick. And maybe he should ask for another because this has been a long time coming. Chanyeol has been telling him again and again, 'you're great and all but you're not a god, y'know?' If people didn't need other people to exist then there would be just one man on earth. More oxygen to breathe in, less noise to make Kyungsoo's ears ring. It would have been a peaceful world. Peaceful, yes, but dull. Lifeless.
Chanyeol takes a deep breath, then lets out a low exhale. "You know why we have those assistant artists in the studio? Or... why you guys have body doubles and stuntmen?"
Kyungsoo snorts. "To save time and energy?"
"No. Fuck you," Chanyeol grumbles. He tightens his hold on Kyungsoo's hands. "Because we can't always win. There are battles that we won't be able to fight because- I dunno, man, what if the battle's up in the air and you don't have wings?"
"That's-" A very good parallelism, Kyungsoo wants to say. Desperation is crippling. It feels like your hands being forcefully chopped off, or twisting your ankle when you still have four long kilometers to run. It feels like... clawing at the air and trying to fly while watching the feathers of your wings slowly come off. "That's false analogy."
"And you're a smartass." Chanyeol growls at Kyungsoo. "Why are we friends again?"
Kyungsoo shrugs. There's a hint of a smile at the corners of Chanyeol's lips, in the way his cheeks pull up. And this is why they're friends - because they've already accepted each other's quirks, because they've already memorized each other like the back of their hand. Because they've already found a way to work around those tiny faults and get each other out of a nasty slump. Because they are Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, two people who found each other's company at the right place and the right time. And because they made a conscious decision to stick and around and plough through life together, as cheesy as it may sound.
This is Chanyeol rubbing off on him - entrusting a part of himself with Kyungsoo. This is friendship, Kyungsoo muses. The shit you see in movies about the most unlikely of people being the best of friends? That's true. Still, he answers, "Beats me. You've always liked befriending people smaller than you, I guess." He meets Chanyeol's gaze and smiles a little. "It makes you feel more powerful."
"Well, I'm a titan. Except..." Chanyeol worries his bottom lip. "Except I don't eat humans. And no, I won't be condemned to Tartarus, either."
Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. Trust Chanyeol to jump from manhwa to mythology and then back to real life. Trust Chanyeol to know his way around and his way back to this moment, right now, where they're sitting opposite each other and tossing the new load of crushed garlic that's just been given to them. And trust Chanyeol to bring Kyungsoo along with him to the finish line without even thinking if Kyungsoo will slow him down and keep him from getting there.
"You're too nice to even think of eating humans," Kyungsoo says after a while.
Chanyeol chuckles, then pulls away. Kyungsoo can still feel the warmth of Chanyeol's touch between his fingers. It's comforting, knowing some things won't change, that some people won't leave. "And tell you what: I think you need to do something," Chanyeol replies. He sniffles. "To answer that question of yours, once and for all."
Kyungsoo cocks an eyebrow at him. "You really think I can ask him straight up, just like that?"
"Well, if you could walk up to Baekhyun and ask why the hell he wanted to get into your pants every chance he got then I don't see why you couldn't ask your hero about that thing."
"Stop saying it like that," Kyungsoo grumbles. "There is no 'thing'."
"Yeah," Chanyeol says, then hums. "Just love." Chanyeol ends with a wink, then erupts into a lovely peal of laughter. His eyes disappear into these tiny crescents. This is it, Kyungsoo muses - this was the same look that Chanyeol fashioned the day Chanyeol found him in the playground in Anyang-si. It was the same look that made him think, hey, this guy's really weird. But I like weird so why the hell not?
Later that night, as he dries his hair with a hand towel, he reaches for his phone from under his pillow. He pulls up Jongdae's contact card, then exits not too longer after. He can feel the cool air from the air conditioning freeze his hair, can feel the pads of his fingers getting cold. And he can feel it again - that weird, lurching sensation at the pit of his stomach, the sizzle of heat the rolls down his abdomen at the same time that a shiver crawls up his spine. He takes a deep breath, then, and navigates out of the Contacts application. Pulls up his messages and settles on a thread he hasn't visited in a while. so the wasabi latte IS great, is the last message in the exchange, so he continues it. Picks up from where they've left off. Weaves it into something that sounds less like a breakfast meeting before the big shoot and more having coffee with a longtime friend. It shouldn't be too hard. If they know each other from a decade or two ago, it shouldn't be too difficult to pick up the pieces of their friendship. It should be a bit easy.
any chance you'd want to try it again? he then types days after the topic has ceased to be relevant. This is the easiest way to reach Jongdae without veering off the track. Right now, it's the only way.
His phone gives off a beep, then another. you're in luck, i'm in apgeu c:, the first message says. The second, was just thinking of passing by cork tomorrow for breakfast. you in? c:
He takes a deep breath and types a quick message. yeah sure. same time? he asks, but it sounds more like a statement than anything. Like they have a specific time marker to themselves that they can call 'their' very own coffee time. Their very own little secret. So he waits - for a sign of hope, for a go signal, for his phone to beep twice in succession because Jongdae's always in a rush to send messages and always mistakes the send button on the keypad for the paragraph break button. He waits for midnight to end and morning to come rushing through. For a chance to share morning coffee with Jongdae again and maybe talk about Donghae-si, the sea, the past.
His phone beeps, but only once. He reaches for his phone, then, and unlocks it as fast as his fingers can move. will be there 8am sharp this time, i promise!! the message says. He can almost imagine it - Jongdae's apologetic voice, the tight knot of his eyebrows, the subtle quirk of his lips as he says his apology, whispers a soft 'I'm really sorry, it won't happen again' under his breath.
He waits a few more seconds before motioning to lay his phone down on the table. Then another message comes in. When he checks the screen, it's Jongdae's name that greets him, bright against a green bubble. Then he leans closer, squints, reads the message at least thrice before deciding to shut his eyes and laugh a little and then press his lips together. He sucks in his bottom lip - to keep himself in check? To keep himself from grinning too much? He can't tell. All he knows right now is that he has to turn in, pull the blankets up to his chin. Set an alarm for six in the morning because he has an appointment at eight.
He risks a last glance at the message again and lets a sliver of laughter escape his lips. This tickling sensation in his throat, his stomach, at the back of his knees and elbows will haunt him for days.
it's a date c;
PART 5