Chapter Text
Han Yeonjoo has no idea what to say.
She just arrived back in South Korea after a long flight from Canada, which served as her sanctuary for the past five years.
Even though her aunt wanted to fetch her from the airport, she insisted not to since she doesn't want her only living relative to go through the hassle, especially since she also has to tend to her music store business in Seoul.
Besides, Yeonjoo can manage herself.
She survived hell, of course, she can survive navigating through South Korean traffic like it's no big deal.
Yeonjoo zips up her plain gray hoodie up to her chin and covers her head with the hood as she exits the airport with a suitcase trolley in her hands.
She knows that no one probably remembers who she is after seven long years of inactivity, but still, it's better to be safe. Besides, her cautious ways have helped her survive. If she had been careless, she wouldn't even be able to leave and return to her homeland with all her body places intact.
But then again, no matter how much effort you put into securing a peaceful life, the universe ruthlessly decides to fuck you up all over again.
"Excuse me," Yeonjoo hears a timid voice call her attention from behind. She stops in her tracks and turns around to face whoever it is. To her surprise, it was a girl who looks like she was in her early twenties, wearing appropriate attire to brave South Korea's cold weather since it was nearing winter now. She smiles at the girl, thinking that she's probably lost.
"How can I help you?" Yeonjoo asks with a smile on her face.
The girl's next words to Yeonjoo felt like someone just poured a whole bucket of ice-cold water on her. "I'm sorry if I might offend you but are you perhaps... no, this can't be." The girl laughs, "It's just, you look so familiar, miss."
"Familiar?" Yeonjoo was already having difficulty maintaining a straight face, especially when her voice betrayed her. "W-what do you mean by that?"
That's when she noticed the photocard that was plastered on the girl's clear phone case.
Fuck.
The girl steps forward to take a closer look at Yeonjoo's face. "You look like that singer who went on hiatus and dipped."
Yeonjoo swallows a scream.
She's already panicking. She can't panic. Not now. She has to be alert. She can't afford to have a meltdown or a relapse at that very moment.
That's what she keeps repeating to herself but no amount of encouragement could help in calming her down, especially when she spots the malicious glint in the girl's eyes.
It's been seven fucking years.
Why the hell is still happening to her?
Yeonjoo remains frozen, her hands gripping the handle of her suitcase tighter as she fights to hold down a scream. No, she can't show this fangirl that she's afraid. They might have negatively affected her before, but she won't let them hurt her again now. She didn't work hard just to let people trample on her again.
But her body still refuses to move.
"You're Han Yeonjoo, aren't you?"
That did the trick.
Yeonjoo blinks herself back to the present. Speaking in a lower register, she replies: "I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else."
Just as she was about to walk away, the girl was quick enough to grab her arm. "Cut the bullshit. You're Yeonjoo, aren't you?"
Alarm fills Yeonjoo's face.
The girl's face lights up, completely happy with her discovery. Yeonjoo feels her grip on her left arm tighten, almost cutting off the blood supply in her poor arm. She grimaces as she tries to pull her arm away only for the girl to squeeze more.
Yeonjoo can now feel herself about to get a panic attack as the girl speaks again, "We thought you killed yourself already, you know? I'm surprised to see you still walking on your two feet—"
"Let her go or else I'm calling the police."
Yeonjoo breathes a sigh of relief upon hearing a very familiar male voice who has helped a lot in her healing journey. However, it was short-lived because the girl still did not let go of her arm. She can already feel a bruise about to show itself the longer she's unable to free her arm.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Do I have to repeat myself?"
"But she deserves to die."
"And you don't? If you're a decent person, then you wouldn't assault an innocent woman."
The girl released Yeonjoo's arm with a huff. "There, happy?"
A camera flash was heard, catching the girl off-guard because she just got her picture taken without her consent. "If this happens again, I'll make sure to put you behind bars. Are we clear?"
The girl walked away.
Yeonjoo silently watches the aggressive female walk away until her figure becomes small. "Breathe, Joo." That's when she noticed that she was holding her breath throughout the whole encounter. If she hadn't heard him say that, she would have already passed out.
She looks at him and offered a weak smile. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," he holds out his fist, asking for a fist bump, which Yeonjoo didn't hesitate to give. "It's nice to see you again, my friend."
"It's nice to see you again," she replies, whispering the guy's name, "Kim Jongdae."
***
The original plan is to quietly return to Seoul and surprise her aunt by arriving a day earlier than expected.
She should've known by now that not all plans are foolproof.
Instead, Yeonjoo finds herself inside an old friend's car.
Even though no one's speaking between them, she can still feel the silent glances from the guy beside her despite focusing her gaze outside the car's window.
It doesn't surprise her. Of course, he's curious. He has a lot of questions to ask. Kim Jongdae is a curious person. But no matter what, he always never lets his curiosity get the better of him. Even if curiosity will kill him, he won't force people to answer his questions for fear of making them feel uncomfortable. That's why Yeonjoo has always felt safe in his presence— he's the older brother that she wished she had.
Having enough of the silence, Yeonjoo decides to talk.
"I saw the news about your marriage, oppa ." She speaks slowly, gauging his reaction. Seeing that he's not frowning, she takes it as a sign to continue. "Congratulations on your wedding and your babies. I'm happy for you."
The way Jongdae's eyes lit up at the mention of his family didn't escape Yeonjoo's watchful gaze. His happiness escaped him as he muttered a thank you. "I wish you were there."
"I'm sorry."
"My wife will be happy to meet you," Jongdae adds. "I bet my children will like you."
That makes Yeonjoo chuckle. "We're not sure about that. You see, I'm not that good with kids."
"There's a first time for everything."
Jongdae's statement made both of them burst into giggles. At that exact moment, the traffic light turns red, making the car stop for a moment. Jongdae then takes the chance to solemnly look at Yeonjoo's face as he says the words he wanted to say since he first spotted her in the airport earlier.
"I missed you, Joo. So much."
Yeonjoo can already feel her eyes getting wet, especially with the way Jongdae's eyes were filled with intense emotions of longing directed at her.
She remembers the trying times she had as a trainee set to debut as a soloist almost ten years ago. Even though a decade has passed, she still remembers the exact emotions she felt as she endlessly practiced her singing to live up to the high expectations that were placed on her shoulders at such a young age. She treated the vocal practice room as her second room— only going out to retrieve food delivery and toilet breaks. She became obsessed with perfecting her song delivery that it became unhealthy for her, almost pushing back her debut.
It had been Jongdae who became her guardian angel, the one person who helped her overcome that unhealthy obsession, enabling her to debut as scheduled.
And since then, he was always there by her side, like an older brother who's willing to do anything for his younger sister, despite not being related by blood.
Yeonjoo swallows her tears; she feels embarrassed to break into tears at their unexpected reunion inside Jongdae's car.
"I missed you too, oppa ."
They share heartwarming smiles before Jongdae has to drive again the moment the traffic light turned green.
After that horrific encounter with a deranged fangirl in the airport, Jongdae selflessly offered Yeonjoo a ride home. She didn't want to take up much of his time since he has a family to tend to, but Jongdae didn't want to take no for an answer. That's why she ended up sitting in the shotgun seat.
"So," Jongdae clears his throat, "How long is your vacation here?"
"I'm not on a vacation, oppa."
Jongdae frowns, not understanding what Yeonjoo meant. The confusion on his face amused Yeonjoo so that it made her laugh at his expression. It only made the older deepen his frown since he can't follow Yeonjoo's meaning. "What do you mean by not being on vacation?"
Yeonjoo leans into her seat, crossing her arms as she looks forward. "I'm back... for good."
It happened fast.
Good thing she was wearing her seatbelt or her face would have crashed into the dashboard. Out of surprise, Jongdae carelessly stepped on the brake, the momentum throwing them forward while their seatbelts fought hard to keep them safe.
Yeonjoo frowns at Jongdae's action since it was a dangerous thing to do, but she can't bring herself to blame him since he certainly did it out of pure surprise.
On the other hand, Jongdae looks guilty for his recklessness and he quickly apologized to his passenger. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
Yeonjoo completely understands why he reacted that way.
After going on a hiatus seven years ago, her contract was terminated and she just left the company without properly saying goodbye to her colleagues. It wasn't just the fans and the general public who was lost— even her fellow artists from SM Entertainment and the staff she worked with did not expect it to happen. Everyone thought she was just taking a short break to regain her bearings from everything that's been happening. None of them knew that it was the start of her fallout. That it would be the last they have seen of her for years to come.
She left her dormitory too and went back to live with her aunt somewhere in Seoul. In her first months as an average unemployed person, she didn't leave her room. How could she, when she was always being followed by sasaengs everywhere she would go? Even though she didn't step out of her aunt's house, there were still people who camped outside, waiting for her to show her beaten, defeated face to satisfy their irrational satisfaction with her miserable state.
It took two years before Yeonjoo gathered enough courage to walk under the sun, purchase a flight ticket, and migrate to another country in hopes of starting a new chapter of her life.
She was happy.
Somehow.
At first, she had to cover herself up to avoid being discovered by anyone. That was one of the cons of dating a global superstar— everyone gets to know your face at the height of the moment.
Eventually, she managed to overcome her social anxiety and started to get more fearless in going outside without wearing a mask or a baseball cap. No one took notice of her. She was a nobody. Yeonjoo felt like a whole new person during that period of her life.
In her third year in Canada, that's when Jongdae finally found her.
It took another year before Jongdae received a response from Yeonjoo.
And then another year before Yeonjoo told Jongdae that she already booked a flight back home.
Throughout the years, Yeonjoo cut all contact from her previous life as a soloist. Only her relationship with Jongdae survived. She realized that the connection she shared with the man was far too precious to let go, and that's why she still allowed him inside her inner walls despite being connected to the very person who became the reason for her unlucky downfall.
Jongdae shakily exhales, still trying to process what Yeonjoo meant with her response.
He asked in a whisper, "Are you sure about this, Joo?"
It was funny how she keeps asking herself that question even now, and still, she has no definite answer to it.
A corner of her lips rose, "I'm here now. Plane tickets are expensive, and I still don't have a stable income so yeah, I'm staying."
Jongdae laughed.
She doesn't know if he is laughing out of relief, of pure happiness, or if it's his way of masking the tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. She doesn't know the real emotion Jongdae wants to express with his boisterous laugh. All Yeonjoo knows is that Jongdae's happy to have her back beside him.
"You studied music abroad, right?" Yeonjoo nods. "Do you still write songs?"
She can already see where his line of questioning is heading.
Yeonjoo became a singer because of her profound love for music. It was always her dream to be a renowned singer-songwriter and producer since she was a child. In fact, she has a whole album full of self-written songs that will most probably be kept in the vault and taken to her grave when she dies. It's not that she's not confident with the songs she has written, because even she had to admit that her songwriting and producing skills are amazing. These songs are too personal for her to share with the world.
She just can't.
"Why not sing again?"
Yeonjoo is unable to stop herself from snapping at Jongdae. "Are you being serious right now?"
The man didn't find it rude though because he just kept on talking. "You don't have to show your face. You can pitch your songs to various companies, use your voice as background vocals, and produce hits! Just use a stage name so people won't know it's you. Royalties are high nowadays, you know? I just don't want you letting your talents rot away."
"It's not easy," she mumbles.
However, her comment still reached Jongdae's ears. "It's easy, Joo. You're just complicating it because you're afraid to try again."
"Can you just drive again, oppa? I really want to go lie down on my bed again, I'm jet lagged."
Jongdae's lips pressed into a straight line. Meanwhile, Yeonjoo decides to close her eyes in an attempt to not see his reaction because she can already feel his disappointment without him saying it out loud.
She can only deal with so much right now.
She'll deal with those things as soon as she's ready to tackle them.
***
"Yeonjoo-yah!"
Yeonjoo was smothered into a bear hug by her aunt the moment she exited Jongdae's car. Throughout the drive, she already messaged her about being on her way home so her aunt was already able to prepare everything for her sudden arrival.
She breathes in her aunt's scent, needing proof that she's really back home after years of trying to get her shit back together in a foreign country. Nothing really beats the comfort provided by family— she's still somehow lucky that she still has her aunt with her. She was able to take it when he chose his career over her but if something happened to her aunt, Yeonjoo would not have probably lived until today.
"I missed you, Auntie," she whispers into the hug.
Her Aunt Yujin chuckles at the way she murmured those words, quickly understanding how homesick Yeonjoo must have felt. "Hey, you did well." Yeonjoo's face was captured in both of her hands. "I'm so proud of you, haven't I told you that enough?"
Yeonjoo can't help herself but smile. "I see you're still a sweet talker, Auntie."
Aunt Yujin still has the same motherly smile on her face, the expression that she has always given Yeonjoo since she took in her niece under her wing when the latter's parents died in an unfortunate accident. It has always been the two of them since then, and being back in her Aunt Yujin's arms is making Yeonjoo feel like she's a child again.
"You must be tired. I cooked your favorite meal— kimchi jjigae ." Yeonjoo lets herself get dragged inside, just silently basking in the warmth her aunt has to offer. "I'm sure you weren't able to find any kimchi jjigae that topped my recipe in Canada!"
She shares her aunt's boisterous laugh. That, she has to strongly agree.
Living in a foreign country all by herself did not equate to Yeonjoo immediately possessing the necessary skills needed to survive by herself. It's a challenging experience for her, and her former job as a soloist didn't really help prepare her for such a life.
Back when she was still striving in her solo career in the South Korean entertainment industry, Yeonjoo had a group of people tending to her needs. The only thing she had to do back then was to look pretty in front of a ton of cameras and to sing and dance well to appease her fans and the general public. Most of the time, she had her manager taking care of everything, including her private life.
That's why when she moved to Canada, it legitimately scared her. It made her feel overwhelmed with the amount of things she had to do.
Her only plan was to take up a music degree so she'd put all her idol training to good use— she didn't think that she would need to make herself busier than ever just so she'd be able to provide for herself while she was still in another country.
Going home to her aunt has to be one of the best decisions she had ever made.
Aunt Yujin made Yeonjoo sit on the couch as she tended to her niece. Yeonjoo can't help but feel touched because it’s been such a long time since she experienced such familial warmth from anyone.
"I’m sorry for only being able to return now, Auntie," Yeonjoo starts off another conversation, this time, on a serious note. “I should’ve been there when Uncle Hyeonjun died. I’m so sorry.”
The mention of his dead uncle made the atmosphere solemn, water pooling into the older woman’s eyes. It’s been two years since the death of Yeonjoo’s amazing uncle but the pain felt by those who were left behind in this life is still fresh as if it just happened yesterday.
When Yeonjoo heard the news, she was devastated.
She wasn’t able to submit her final project for one of her major subjects, which led to her first failure in university. It caught the attention of her professor, who talked to her academic adviser, who then reached out to her to find out the cause of her inability to accomplish an academic requirement. The fact that one of their stellar students was unable to comply with a major course requirement alarmed them so they were quite persistent in getting to the bottom of it.
Upon finding out that she just heard the news of a family relative’s passing, the university she attended decided to give her a reprieve. Yeonjoo was allowed to take a temporary leave of absence in order to be able to return home to mourn.
Thankful for the generous offer, Yeonjoo still didn’t take that chance to fly back to South Korea.
She wanted to—hell, God knows how much she wanted to be by her aunt’s side through everything—but she just couldn’t bring herself to book a flight ticket and get on a plane. She felt like she was an ungrateful child, not looking back to the way her aunt and uncle took her in and treated her the same way parents would do to their children. By not being physically there during the wake and the burial proper, Yeonjoo felt inadequate as a niece. That’s why all this warm welcome she’s been receiving from her Aunt Yujin is making her feel so loved, making her question if she does deserve this treatment at all.
“You don’t have to be sorry, dear,” Aunt Yujin reaches out to unfold Yeonjoo’s hands and takes one of the latter to hold. “I completely understand why you had to stay there. We can go visit your Uncle Hyeonjun whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now,” Yeonjoo announced.
But the expression on Aunt Yujin's face told Yeonjoo that her words were not believed. Did it show on her face? The way that she's just forcing a smile even though all she wants to do right now is to cry?
"You don't have to force yourself to be ready, dear." Her aunt speaks using a low tone, like a mother whispering to her baby who's being hummed to sleep. "I'm happy that you're back home, but I'll be happier if you prioritize your happiness even more."
“But I am happy,” Yeonjoo argues, “That’s why I came back home. To not miss any more opportunities, Auntie.”
The look on Aunt Yujin’s face tells Yeonjoo that she isn’t believable enough. It made her question herself then— is she truly happy or is she just faking it just for the sake of inserting herself back home after years of being gone?
“If you really came home to,” Aunt Yujin quoted with her fingers, “‘no miss any more opportunities,’ then why is the job offer from SM still left unanswered?”
Yeonjoo stills in her seat.
Her throat feels dry; she suddenly ran out of words to say.
It’s been years since she last talked about her former entertainment agency, the famous pink company that pioneered the K-pop industry making it to be the most coveted place to go audition to for aspiring K-pop trainees.
But of course, with young dreamers whose eyes are blinded by the glitz and glamor of this road, many fail to recognize the darkness behind it. It’s not all sparkles and glitters— it’s more of a hell on earth for those who are successful enough to survive the training period and experience at least a day in the draining world of the entertainment industry.
A single mention of that damn company has Yeonjoo reeling back in her seat from the wave of memories that enters her mind.
It has once become a dream for her; but now, it’s a recurring nightmare that Yeonjoo is willing to do anything just to live as if it never happened at all.
“How did you know about it, Auntie?”
She knows she didn’t tell anything about the producing offer she received. It was Jongdae who first mentioned the job opening to her— and she was pretty adamant in rejecting it because she doesn’t want to be associated with that company once again.
Aunt Yujin raises an eyebrow at her, “Answer my question first, Yeonjoo. Why come back home if you’re so willing to let go of your past, of your identity, of who you really are and the things you so love more than your own life?”
Yeonjoo looks away.
“There’s no point in returning to Seoul if you’re just going to let your talents rot. If you’re just going to remain hiding under my roof again and only go out at night like a vampire— you’re better off in Canada compared to being back here.”
That’s one thing Yeonjoo has always admired about her Aunt Yujin.
Han Yujin is known to be even more stubborn than Yeonjoo’s father, Han Jinwoo. No matter the type of reaction she’ll receive from the person she’s speaking to, Han Yujin will continue speaking her mind without any filter or sugarcoating. She will do whatever it takes just to ensure that her words will always convey the message she wants to get across, even to those who don't want to listen to her. That’s how persistent she has always been— and it’s also something that Yujin sort of dislikes about the older woman.
Yeonjoo doesn’t have to look at her aunt’s face to know what expression’s showing at the moment.
“Han Yeonjoo,” her aunt’s tone left no room for disobedience.
Yeonjoo raises her head with no choice.
Contrary to what she expects, Aunt Yujin is looking at her with a motherly smile. “If you really want to move forward, you have to let go of everything in the past. More opportunities will be missed if you keep holding on to all the bad that happened to you— do not forget the other side of the coin, all the good that happened despite everything else.”
If only it was that easy to do.