Chapter Text
“What...happened?”
Daesung’s voice was shaky, high-pitched with horror as Seunghyun sat where he was, leaned against the couch, a cig in between his fingers. There were lines of blood along his forearm like someone scratched his arm. There was a mess of broken glass and spilled wine as Seunghyun sighed, burrowing his head into his forearm.
“I fucked up, that’s what happened, Daesung.”
“Isn’t that G-DRAGON?” “Omigod, it is!” “He’s so handsome today!” “I didn’t know he came here!”
Jiyong ignored the stares upon his arrival as he sat next to Youngbae on the bar. He was wearing a loose “Rich Kids” tank with tight leather pants. The Chrome Hearts belt he wore was tight around his waist. Ordering a Daniel on the rocks, Jiyong sighed, chewing his lip.
“You gonna get wasted?” Youngbae lightly teased as the bartender slid the glass towards him.
“You fucking bet I will,” Jiyong said, drinking the whole glass in a gulp. He felt Youngbae’s stare and knew what his friend was trying to figure out. The sudden phone call. His yelling at Seunghyun over the phone. And then the hasty hang up.
“I already have an idea what happened,” Youngbae said slowly, trending the topic carefully. “But if you want to talk, I’m here for you, bro.”
Jiyong suddenly felt exhausted, his shoulders falling into a slump, and leaned against Youngbae who held his weight firmly. It suddenly all hit him up like an aftermath crash. His throat was raw from screaming, yelling; his arms were aching from Seunghyun’s attempt at holding him; and his nails hurting from scraping his hands along Seunghyun’s arm to release him in his fury.
And worst of it, Soohyuk watching in the hallway, arms crossed, face void of emotions. But that smug look in his eyes.
“I’m done loving people,” Jiyong said instead. “I hate relationships. I hate Soohyuk and I hate Seunghyun.”
“Again with Soohyuk?” Youngbae said, a flash of a frown on his face.
Jiyong heard clicks of the camera, flashes on them and did his best to ignore them. “Yeah,” Jiyong picked at the olive in the glass. “Can you believe he slept with Seunghyun? Practically all over him? With Seunghyun holding him back?”
“Is that what happened?” Youngbae asked and Jiyong sighed. “I assumed it did.”
“I’m going to ask you to take care of me,” Jiyong said. “Just for one night. Let me get wasted.”
“Sure,” Youngbae slid another undrunken glass towards him. “I’m here for you.”
Jiyong took it all in with one shot, moving away from the bar, and heading to the dance floor, where everything turned hazy and loud. He took pictures with fans, let some even touch him, even dirty danced with one. He couldn’t remember anything.
He just wanted to forget.
When he woke up, he was back in his own apartment, his new one. Ai was perched on the couch, letting the sun warm her by the window as Jiyong blinked. He was warm and surprisingly smelled clean. Even changed and he figured it was Youngbae who did all of it. Instead of getting up, Jiyong pulled the covers around him, closing his eyes once again. He couldn’t. He kept thinking about Seunghyun and Soohyuk. The loud shatter of glass. The yells and screams. The loud slap of Jiyong’s palm against Seunghyun’s cheek.
It burned in his head. It kept replaying like a broken record.
And Jiyong began to cry. It was happening all over again and this time, with a bigger pain than before. Everything was turning gray, colorless now.
Later that afternoon, Jiyong requested for Soonho to request a long-term hiatus. Without question, Soonho promised he would.
Seunghyun was quiet as Soonho called him.
“He’d really like a hiatus,” Soonho said, his voice insistent.
“If that’s what he wants, he’s allowed up to a month of hiatus. That’s all I can give him,” Seunghyun said. His voice came out cold, rough with exhaustion, but still hard. “Otherwise, he has to continue.”
“I understand. I’ll be sure to tell him that,” Soonho said and he hung up.
Daesung watched from his desk with fleeting glances, fingers flying over the keyboard, as Seunghyun swiveled to face the city below. He wished he could be the people down there; normal, busy, free from the guilt and the frustration. He wished everything was back in place, wished yesterday never happened. But it did and his arm was the result of it.
Then, there was a loud vibration and Seunghyun, thinking--hoping--it was Jiyong, moved to get it only to see Daesung picking up his own phone instead. “Hello, Daesung here,” Daesung greeted.
There was a pause before Daesung’s face turned grave, serious-almost. “Okay, I’ll be there,” He said and he too, hung up. Seunghyun watched, knowing fully well who it was, helplessly, feeling pitiful and stupid for even hoping.
“I have to go, I’ve finished my work for the afternoon but I’ll come back in time for your meeting,” Daesung promised, taking his coat. “Is that okay?”
“Go,” Seunghyun said, his voice coming out harder than he expected and he didn’t see Daesung, giving his computer newfound attention and fake interest. It wasn’t until the door closed that Seunghyun finally let out a sob, his chest aching with longing.
Daesung couldn’t help it. He hugged Jiyong as soon as the older man let him in. He couldn’t stop crying for Jiyong. He went to church every Sunday, praying for all his friends, especially Jiyong, on their behalfs to wish them happy lives and only for this to happen. The same thing that happened with Soohyuk.
“I’m so sorry, hyung!” Daesung sobbed and he felt Jiyong clutch him, crying into his shoulder.
They were both crying but Daesung cried more for Jiyong. Beautiful, strong, Jiyong, now broken and empty. He’d been so happy a week ago. And Jiyong absolutely looked like a wreck. His eyes were sunken and he looked pale.
“Thanks for coming,” Jiyong said, wiping his eyes and Daesung nodded, doing the same. “I pulled you out in the middle of work, right?”
Despite the heavy tension about Daesung working as Seunghyun’s secretary, Daesung tried not to dwell on it, hoped Jiyong didn’t despise Daesung for that. Daesung took no sides. And knew as well as Jiyong knew that, there was small resent for it.
“No, I finished,” Daesung said. “I brought some food,” He picked up the plastic bag with two take outs. “I got your favorite Chinese takeout.”
To his relief, Jiyong cracked a small smile, taking it. “Come in?” Jiyong asked, opening the door wider.
Daesung went inside, a sweet smell of a candle burning entering his nose. There was a faint smell of grapefruit as Jiyong pulled the desk into a two person table with the pull of the furniture. “Woah, I’ve seen these on TV, but to see one work in person is really amazing,” Daesung said, watching Jiyong pull out two chairs from the cabinet under the table. They were simple but durable minimalist fold chairs.
“It’s comfortable,” Jiyong said as they sat down to eat. “Thanks for bringing food.”
“I assumed you didn’t eat all day,” Daesung said, snapping open the chopsticks. “Nor did I.”
Ai watched from the bed’s overhead shelf, as if watching Jiyong with a protective nature. Daesung smiled and Ai looked away, licking her paw.
“I’ve been thinking lately,” Jiyong said in between his chews. “Maybe love doesn’t work out for me.”
Daesung watched Jiyong take in a breath after a gulp of water. “Hyung, you know I don’t take sides,” He said, straightening his back. “But maybe talk it out with Seunghyun? Whatever he did, maybe give him a chance to explain.”
Jiyong cast a slow, pained smile, shaking his head. “I don’t want to look at him. I’m too angry. Too shocked. Too hurt.”
Daesung nodded. “Of course. I’m just putting it out.”
“I know. You might think I sound childish, but in order for me move on, I need to do what I’m good at,” Jiyong said, and then resting his chin, mouth covered by his palm, he looked sideways, watching the second take out being heated up.
Daesung stared at Jiyong. Despite looking groggy, Jiyong had an air of grace around him. Somber lined his eyes dark, sunlight didn’t reach him from the window, his hair was messy and bed ridden. Still, it was Jiyong and the Jiyong Daesung knew was the grace he had around him. The kind of grace that Daesung thought God might have placed on him.
Maybe you’re right, hyung. Maybe you’re not meant for love. But you make others in love with you instead.
He kept seeing him everywhere. Like he was going paranoid. His heart would freeze and then thud achingly and then calm when he’d mistaken him. He saw his smile, hear his laughs, feel his touch--when in reality, he didn’t.
Maybe this was what it was like for Soohyuk. Seeing, feeling, but not quite reaching Jiyong. Until finally, his rage turned him cold and fox-like, rough and hard, and soon despising Jiyong. Seunghyun hoped he wouldn’t turn like that. While he felt no hope of being able to mend their relationship, Seunghyun hoped, felt a tiny spark in him, that he and Jiyong would be together.
Every day turned excruciating. Some days passed like a hopeless blur, another wasteful day. Some days passed slow, so slow, Seunghyun felt suffocated. The days were slow, but the nights passed by with the close of his eyes, and the open of his eyes.
He was breaking. Falling. Crumbling, little by little.
He was lonely, even with Daesung’s warm presence, he was lonely.
He hoped he would catch real Jiyong in person.
He didn’t.
He did see him one day. It was so sudden. So fleeting.
He was crossing the road, carrying three shopping bags from designer labels with the same man he’d seen before. That might be Youngbae, Jiyong’s BFF. Daesung had said, adding more like a knowing term at “BFF”. Jiyong looked pale, exhausted, but he was keeping the same energetic face as he talked, walking past Seunghyun’s car as Youngbae laughed.
And Seunghyun couldn’t help it.
Jealously pulsed through his veins, making his back warm with shame afterward. He felt worse for himself that day. He felt more and more like an asshole. First for the misunderstanding (it had to be, it had to, even if Seunghyun didn’t remember), and now his twisted feelings. Jiyong had friends. Of course, he would.
Seunghyun couldn’t look away as he saw Youngbae tucking a piece of strand hair from Jiyong’s eyes when they got to the other side. It only made Seunghyun jealous than ever. But also hopeless because Jiyong was right there and Seunghyun still couldn’t reach him.
The car moved forward at the signal’s green light and Seunghyun still had Jiyong’s smiling face branded in his mind. No matter what, Jiyong was pretty as ever. He was like a rose, beautiful with flowing red petals but to get there was a thorny road.
Jiyong knew it was dangerous, but he walked around Kips Bay at night, wearing his Vetements sweater and ripped jeans. Hands in his pockets, he let the cool wind wash over him, as he walked the empty streets at 1 am. The wind howled, making Jiyong shiver, but he still walked along the road, looking at the ground, letting his body breathe.
Unable to take the cold, Jiyong made a round back into Carmel Place, welcoming the heat. His apartment was dark, save for the lamps that lit outside the courtyard. Ai welcomed him with a meow and Jiyong took off his boots, laying on his bed as Ai pressed a paw on his shoulder, pressing her muzzle against Jiyong’s lips in a kiss and Jiyong kissed her back, hugging her as she purred.
“It feels lonely, huh, Ai?” Jiyong asked in the dark, her yellow eyes glowing. He stroked her back. He burrowed his face into her flank. “It’s lonely for me.”
Ai continued to purr as if to console him and Jiyong soon fell asleep, her deep purrs lulling him into a dreamless slumber.
He woke up at 5 am, hearing a knock on his door and Jiyong sat up, half-asleep. Who the hell is it at this hour? Jiyong thought. He moved to the door with heavy steps. “Who is it?” Jiyong asked, leaning against the door.
“Hey, it’s me,” Youngbae’s voice said from the other side.
Jiyong opened the lock and then swung open the door. “Bae, what--” He was stopped short when he saw blood on Youngbae's face, his clothes dirty. “What happened?” Jiyong asked.
He saw Youngbae shrug. “I got into a fight.”
“Come in,” Jiyong said and let Youngbae inside before closing the door. Youngbae leaned against the wall, taking off his shoes before sitting on the rug where Jiyong took out a first aid box. As he sat down in front of Youngbae, he got a strong sense of nostalgia.
Youngbae must’ve felt it too because he started laughing. Jiyong joined in and while it sounded crazy, laughing together at 5 am in the morning, it brought back tender memories. Jiyong, wide-awake now, disinfected his wounds.
“How’d it happen?” Jiyong asked as Youngbae let out a small hiss of pain.
“I accidentally ran into the bitches,” Youngbae winced as Jiyong dabbed at a certain painful spot. “I apologized but they were picking a fight.”
“So you fought it,” Jiyong said and Youngbae nodded as Jiyong carefully pressed the band-aid on.
“Yeah,” Youngbae said. “My ribs hurt like hell, but I’m okay.”
“Let me see,” Jiyong said and Youngbae took off his fur-lined jacket, pushing his shirt up so his torso was exposed. There were bruises dotting his muscular statue as Jiyong gently pressed fingers on his ribs. One area, lower right, made Youngbae flinch and instinctively pull away. “Sorry,” Jiyong said, apologetic. “I have a patch for it, want it?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Youngbae said and Jiyong stood up, opening the cabinet for the box of patches that he had bought ages ago. It was there on the high shelf and he reached vainly for it, going on tippy-toes. It wasn’t until Youngbae had to get up and get it himself. Jiyong found himself trapped between Youngbae’s chest and the counter. When he turned his head, Youngbae’s face was close to his and for a brief moment, they stared at each other before Youngbae cleared his throat, stepping away. “Sorry,” He said awkwardly. He held out the box and Jiyong took it, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks.
“It’s okay,” Jiyong quietly said, pressing the back of his palms against his cheeks to cool them down. He pressed the patch against Youngbae’s ribs before turning, placing it back on a shelf he knew he could reach on his own.
“Want a shower?” Jiyong asked, gesturing to the bathroom. “You have your spare clothes in my closet right?”
“Yeah,” Youngbae said, nodding, looking around. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Okay, help yourself,” Jiyong smiled and Youngbae smiled thinly back, turning to go into Jiyong’s walk in closet, getting his clothes, before going into the bathroom.
The sun crept over, pulsing through the window, lighting up the room as the darkness began to disappear, welcoming a new morning. Jiyong opened the curtains to see the view of Kips Bay. There was traffic as usual but it was still early and so no one was out yet.
Jiyong changed into a loose white t-shirt from Saint Laurent and shorts that he’d stolen from Dami’s large collections and pulled an Anthropologie bought kimono. It wasn’t Japanese designed and while Jiyong felt strange wearing it, he wore it as a sleepwear instead. It was made from silk, with floral designs and wide sleeves like a traditional Japanese kimono. Coming out from the walk-in closet, Jiyong sat on bed, folding up a leg to his chest as he stared outside.
For a brief moment, Jiyong envied the people outside. They were not part of the fame Jiyong gold ahold of, not stared at in many ways that Jiyong had to ignore. Jiyong had realized that fame was not everything. That it did not bring happiness. Nowadays, Jiyong felt it was dragging him down. And with it, a feeling of despair. Fashion was one of the many things Jiyong loved, adored. Maybe he was losing that too.
The bed dipped slightly as Jiyong blinked back into reality, staring at Youngbae who’d just come out, wearing a black tank and comfort pants. He sat down on the edge, drying his hair and Jiyong watched Youngbae’s muscles flex and unflex.
“I liked you at one point,” Youngbae said, suddenly, still drying his hair.
It took Jiyong by surprise. “You did?” Jiyong asked.
Youngbae smiled at him. “Yeah, at one point. You may not realize it, but you’re so much more than who you think you are,” Youngbae said, softly. “There was something about you I knew was different from other people and I got charmed by it. But I realized, love never worked out for me either, and I didn’t want to break away from the friendship I shared with you.
“So I suppressed it until I realized I saw you more as a friend,” Youngbae pulled off the towel from his head.
“Seungri confessed to me, too,” Jiyong said, laying his chin on his kneecap.
Youngbae chuckled, shaking his head. “We were all so entranced by you,” He said.
“Even Daesung?” Jiyong asked and to that, Youngbae shrugged.
“To be really honest, I don’t know much about Daesung. I didn’t know he even had an older sister until last month when he told me he sent money to his family in Korea. I talk to him a lot about my own issues but,” Youngbae shook his head. “I know nothing about him.”
Jiyong nodded in agreement. Youngbae had a point. Daesung was their listener, an angel who listened, only gave advice when needed, consoled when needed. And like he always said, he never took sides. And while he knew Youngbae’s and Jiyong’s and even Seungri’s secrets, the three of them didn’t know Daesung’s.
They settled into a comfortable silence before Youngbae tapped Jiyong’s ankle to get his attention. “Hm?” Jiyong hummed and Youngbae grinned. “What?”
“Want to try learning how to dance with me?”
The casual Brooklyn model shoot went smoother than usual for Seunghyun. He thought he’d be too depressed, too emotional to walk the streets of Brooklyn for the 1st Outlook magazine. But he carried it out just fine. The director said that his face expressions were just the right ones that he’d been looking for to showcase Calvin Klein’s casual menswear.
When Seunghyun looked at himself in the body mirror, he was surprised to himself looking rather good in casual clothes. He was always wearing suits and ties, dress shirts and pants, ties and no ties.
Just then, Seunghyun saw a couple that caught his eyes. They were laughing, smiling, teasing each other playfully. The girl was pretty with her ash gray dyed hair and doe-like face. The man was handsome with an angular face and he was smiling, headphones in his ears and they passed by Seunghyun, their laughter ringing in Seunghyun’s ears like a melody.
He watched them with a tender expression, recalling all those moments where he shared laughs and playful remarks and teasings with Jiyong. He remembered the moments they flirted before going into the relationship, how flustered he was. Everything seemed so so long ago yet so yesterday.
“Cut! That was a good one, Choi! Keep going!” The photographer called and Seunghyun continued walking, hands in pockets.
After the photo shoot, Seunghyun got a request email from Vogue for Jiyong to display his androgynous charms to media. The concept was Jiyong to dress in dresses for the summer season and then dress in tuxedos and suits alongside the feminine pictures. Their reason: since Jiyong was hailed a model who defies gender expectations and has shown overwhelming and exquisite unisex charms that captured the media in a strong clutch, they decided that they wanted to show more of it to public.
“Jiyongie-hyung in a dress…,” Daesung said thoughtfully. “I can sort of imagine but sort of can’t.”
“There’s been a lot of photo shoots like these, all done by androgynous females instead of a male. This might a good project,” Seunghyun said and began to write out his response. “Can you send an email to Soonho if he could send Jiyong the details of it?” He asked Daesung.
“Of course,” Daesung said beside him in the car, opening his tablet and typing away.
They both typed silently in the car that headed towards the main building of the Entertainment. Then after he was done, Seunghyun stared outside. Jiyong would look quite stunning if my idea and their concept are going the same way. He thought, longingly.
“It’s showing on your face, Seunghyun-hyung,” Daesung said and Seunghyun looked at him. The younger man just smiled knowingly. Then that’s when Daesung must’ve read his thoughts because Seunghyun just looked away, new interest outside.
“I’m surprised you’re not telling me to shut up or talk about it,” Daesung said with a faint smile.
Seunghyun shrugged. “You know I can’t be snappy with you.”
“You spoil me too much,” Daesung said with a chuckle. “I won’t bring it up if you don’t want to talk about it, hyung. I can imagine how sensitive it is to you.”
“It’s okay,” Seunghyun said quietly. “Everything was my fault. I don’t have the right to say ‘I don’t want to hear his name’ when he should be doing that.”
Daesung hummed lightly. “Personally, don’t take it though, I don’t think both of you are in the right or wrong. I would say everything was all due to misunderstanding and bad timing.”
“Misunderstanding and bad timing?” Seunghyun asked.
Daesung made duck lips, looking thoughtful. “I won’t say anything else but try thinking that way.”
Misunderstanding and bad timing. Seunghyun had an idea but it was painful to know recall what happened. Jiyong trying so hard to pull away, the hard slap of his palm against Seunghyun’s cheek, and then the cursing, the shatter of glass and spilled wine, and the slam of the door. Everything had happened so fast, Seunghyun had to drive Soohyuk away without being able to voice his own anger, at his motives, and sit down to take in everything that had happened. The first person he called was Daesung.
Seunghyun took in an even breath. “I’ll think about it.”
In a long time since Seunghyun, Jiyong felt he hadn’t had so much fun and laughter in a while. Seeing himself in the mirror with Youngbae teaching him a certain not-so-hard choreography made Jiyong laugh at how floppy and stiff he was. And how patient and full of amusement Youngbae was when he taught Jiyong step by step.
It was a good distraction and the most fun he had.
When Youngbae’s students began to arrive, they were awed and shocked by Jiyong’s appearance and had all stared in amazement before the dance studio’s entrance and windows were being crowded to see G-DRAGON the supermodel. Even some dance instructors had come to see the commotion.
“I better go,” Jiyong laughed as Youngbae stared outside where the chatter was endless.
“No, no, stay, show my students how much you learned,” Youngbae said and there were rising of calls of “Yes please!”.
Jiyong shook his head, wiping away his sweat. “No, no, no,” He whined in embarrassment.
“Awwwwww!” The crowd begged.
Jiyong hid his face in his hands, his face flushing bright red. Youngbae hugged his friend, laughing. “Alright, guys, make way, make way,” He led Jiyong out of the studio. While the crowd followed a good distance away, Youngbae escorted Jiyong to his car.
“Thanks for the session,” Jiyong said, ready to drive as his window sunk low for Youngbae to see him. “I had fun.”
“Of course. I’ll see you sometime around?” Youngbae asked.
“Obviously,” Jiyong said and they shared a laugh before Jiyong waved, rolling the window up, merging into the street. He waved to the students who all waved back and drove home. Jiyong considered shopping for new clothes, especially the spring season collections, but he headed home instead.
When he parked his car, Jiyong heard his phone ring with a notification and while he would normally ignore it, he didn’t expect an email from Daesung. The subject read “New modeling request”. Jiyong opened it with the swipe of his finger, getting out from the car.
Like Soonho said, Jiyong would get his month break. But afterward, Vogue requested that Jiyong would show his androgynous charms through a model shoot. Daesung had attached a concept sketch and Jiyong opened it as he took the elevator. Jiyong puckered his lips in thoughtful consideration of the model shoot.
Jiyong couldn’t find himself to decline as he swiped through the sketches and ideas. He looked through the clothes and dresses he would wear and fumbled to open his door. Jiyong wondered if he would even look good in a dress. No matter how feminine he was, Jiyong was still a man. As he took off his shoes, Jiyong looked at himself in the body mirror near the bathroom. He took off his shirt and stared at himself.
On the second thought, maybe he might be able to.
Jiyong took a quick shower, washing off the smell of feet and sweat, before opening his laptop to take a better look at the email Daesung sent him. Ai snuggled on his lap as Jiyong sat on the desk. The contract was a large--huge--amount of money but while that was second priorty, Jiyong wasn’t sure if public would take this positively. He knew the praise he was given for his unisex looks, but for Jiyong to wear a dress...he was tentative about it.
He took a look at the clothes that had been drawn with notes written at the sides with arrows. The more he read and saw the sketches, he felt sparks of excitement. The shoot wasn’t explicit, wasn’t body shaming that Jiyong thought it would be, it was just to show the two genders Jiyong represented for himself;he feminine and handsome side he had.
Jiyong sent a text to Soonho saying he would sign the contract after his hiatus, knowing his manager and friend knew the model shoot. After receiving the reply, Jiyong sat on bed and laid back, wondering if he should catch his sleep or actually start exercising. Feeling his eyes tire, Jiyong decided to sleep, also finding Ai yawning. He took the cat into his arms, kissing her as she purred. “Let’s take a nap?”
Ai meowed as if to answer him and Jiyong got into bed, letting Ai shift herself into a comfortable position to sleep. Jiyong slept on his right side towards the window as Ai slept on the pillow his head was resting on and Jiyong felt her head on his. Slowly, Jiyong felt himself succumb to sleep.
Seunghyun fell into a deep depression that made him drink every night and stay quiet and cold when he was sober. Even Daesung got intimidated and didn’t say much, only doing things he was supposed to do. From time to time, he offered his company but Seunghyun kept turning it down. He felt too exhausted to be talking and he was fine--no, he wasn’t fine--with being by himself at home, wine glass in hand as he got himself drunk.
He kept missing Jiyong, kept wanting him, kept thinking about him. He missed him. He missed him so bad, it hurt to breathe, missed his gummy smiles and breathy laughs, he almost heard it. But Jiyong was gone. He took all his belongings the next day after the fight, leaving no trace. As if he never was here. Left the key on the dinner table.
Seunghyun kept looking at the necklace he was going to give to Jiyong. A simple sterling silver thin chained necklace with a green topaz pendant. It was small, almost like a choker if he wanted to adjust it, and simple enough for Jiyong to like at that point. He kept it on the kitchen table where he hadn’t eaten at because he kept remembering Jiyong sitting there, beer in front of him, gaze outside or at his phone.
Seunghyun either couldn’t sleep and had to take sleeping pills or slept deeply, having Daesung to personally come and wake him up. He made people around him uncomfortable with his cold demeanor and worst of all, didn’t have anyone waiting at home. At least Jiyong’s cat, Ai, was waiting and greeted him with a slow blink, but there was nothing to look forward at home. The apartment felt too big. Too empty.
Fuck. Seunghyun thought, as he passed by the Starbucks he first approached Jiyong.
Fuck. He thought when he was driven past the alleyway where he met Jiyong with Soohyuk.
And then, due to a meeting in Kips Bay, Seunghyun found himself remembering that Jiyong had moved to Carmel Place, Kips Bay. Telling his driver to park, Seunghyun got out, looking at the seven-story apartment standing in the corner. The apartment was modern and almost eye-catching with its four slender “mini-tours” of the compact apartment rooms. Seunghyun heard on Hypebeast of how excellent Carmel Place was with its now mini-gym, study rooms, laundromat, and even storage spaces.
And then Jiyong proudly said that he’d bought the whole apartment.
“Apartment number 23,” Seunghyun muttered under his breath, reading the long ago text Jiyong had sent him. He looked up at the windows and then saw the lobby door opening and Seunghyun’s heart just stopped.
Jiyong came out, not noticing Seunghyun was watching, as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk, typing something on his phone, wearing sunglasses. He wore black jeans that outlined his slender legs and a low v-neck showing his collarbones. He recognized the green Pyrex flannel shirt Jiyong wore for casual outdoor clothing, and then their eyes met.
Slowly, with Seunghyun’s chest beating slowly, Jiyong took off his sunglasses, looking at Seunghyun with an expressionless expression. They stared at each other and Seunghyun wanted to apologize, to explain, to hug him, and to call out to him. But he couldn’t and he could feel his throat swelling with frustration.
Jiyong looked at his phone and without a word, he unlocked his car, and climbed in, driving away without a second look.
Seunghyun felt himself break.
Jiyong had to park on the curb as soon as he turned a corner, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. It suddenly felt hard to breathe and Jiyong felt like he was overreacting to Seunghyun’s appearance. But it was sudden. Too sudden and Jiyong felt a flash of anger before it disappeared into pain. The gaze in his eyes looked hopeless, despairing and almost teary.
Jiyong took in even breaths, calming himself before he merged onto the road. He kept biting at his nails, driving to where he would meet his stylists, Jieun and Taehyung along with some others for a get-together lunch. He found it hard to focus as he drove there.
Towards Seunghyun, he was angrier. Hurt and angry. Jiyong swore he’d never let himself get hurt; even before that, swore he wouldn’t fall in love with anyone. But Seunghyun did. He pulled Jiyong in and in return, Jiyong let himself. He saw the promise, the desperation, the love from him.
And then, everything came down to him sleeping with Soohyuk. Of all damn people.
Jiyong gritted his teeth, gripping the wheel tighter as he made a sharp turn on the road.
I fucking loved you. Jiyong thought bitterly. But I’m done with people now. From now on, I won’t love or fall in love with anyone.
“I”m sorry to hear that, Jiyong-ah,” Jieun said softly. “I didn’t know you were going through that.”
Jiyong tucked in his knees, feeling invulnerable. He didn’t tell Jieun and the others who were watching him with looks of understanding that it was Seunghyun who cheated on him. Or at least “cheated” to Jiyong. He didn’t hear what Seunghyun was trying to say; he heard only “it’s a misunderstanding”. Jiyong had been to blind with rage hurt to really listen. He felt like punching Soohyuk, to wipe the smirk off his face.
“Yeah,” Jiyong said, laying his chin on his kneecaps.
“But love is like that,” Taehyun said and there were murmurs and nods of agreement. “Not everything works out. Even at this age.”
“I should’ve known that,” Jiyong said, feeling miserable and regretful.
“You’re strong; you’ll get through,” Soonho pat his back.
Those words now seemed empty. Repeated too much that Jiyong felt too weak to even reply.
Later, Jiyong went to Anthropologie that was nearby after the get-together and went on a shopping spree. It must’ve been strange to see a man browsing through women's clothes but Jiyong pushed the embarrassment away thinking it was for his sister and not himself.
He bought a large spring oversized turtleneck sweater after thoughtful browsing and bought some jewelry before leaving, feeling better about himself. Soonho had waited outside to give Jiyong the model shoot details for Vogue. Jiyong took it, biding his manager goodbye before getting into his car and throwing the package into the seat.
He sighed, turning the wheel fully into a turn back into Kips Bay when he saw Daesung waiting for the street light to change on the sidewalk where Jiyong was next to. Grinning, he rolled down the window. “Hey, Daesungie!” He called and the younger man jumped, holding a hand to his chest, surprised, but grinned back, laughing.
“Hyung!” Daesung waved.
“Where you going? Want me to drop you off?” Jiyong asked.
“Home and yes please,” Daesung replied, quickly getting into the car, taking the manilla folder into his lap so he wouldn’t crush it.
Jiyong pressed on the accelerator when the light changed, Daesung strapping himself in. “Going home early?” He asked, eyes on the road.
“Yeah. Seunghyun said he didn’t need me for the rest of the day and told me to get some rest,” Daesung replied, fixing his knit scarf.
Jiyong considered asking how Seunghyun was doing when he shook his head slightly. Jiyong didn’t want Daesung to tell Seunghyun that he asked. And...for once, Jiyong wanted things to be private. “I see,” He said lightly. “Where’s your place again?”
“Near your apartment. It’s in the same area,” Daesung replied and Jiyong now remembered.
“That’s why you came over so much,” Jiyong mused. “You live on 215 East on 26th Street.”
“Five-minute walk, hyung,” Daesung laughed and Jiyong laughed too.
They came down to a comfortable silence as Daesung stared out the window, Jiyong driving. Jiyong thought about asking about Seunghyun before suddenly, Daesung spoke.
“Seunghyun’s different,” Daesung said, hands wringing together nervously like he was hesitating to talk about Seunghyun with Jiyong present.
“Different?” Jiyong stopped at red light, asking without thinking. A spike of self-conscious worry bit at Jiyong’s stomach.
“Yeah,” Daesung had a frown on his face now, like he was trying hard to recall. “He’s really quiet, and his voice is really cold. Hard, like he’s angry. And he’s not energetic or...mischievous like he was. He’s just super quiet.”
Jiyong tried to act nonchalant towards it, but he couldn’t help but feel the small spark of worry. That did seem different about Seunghyun. “I see,” Jiyong said, unsure what else to respond with. It came out a little nonchalant and he inwardly cringed. Like he didn’t care. But I do. I can’t help but feel like this because you gave me such sad eyes.
It was almost ironic the way Seunghyun was acting. It was Jiyong who should be angry. Jiyong who should be quiet, enraged and cold. Not Seunghyun. But here Jiyong was, acting like his usual self, in hopes to forget Seunghyun and all the things that reminded Jiyong of him.
“Sorry,” Daesung said almost meekly.
“Huh?” Jiyong asked, taken aback by hs sudden apology. He looked at Daesung at the next red light and found the younger boy tense like as if being scolded by his mother. “Why?” Jiyong asked.
“I know I keep talking about sensitive things and maybe it’s just me that you’re not telling me to stop,” Daesung said quietly, eyes downcast. “I’m trying not to let myself involved or at least keep you two’s lives private but I can’t help but feel worried for you two.”
Jiyong always knew Daesung was kind-hearted. He always knew his thinking was almost a burden to himself, the way he worries a lot, the way he was one step ahead of others. Some moments, Jiyong felt incredibly grateful for Daesung’s thoughtfulness. This was one of them. “Aw, Dae,” Jiyong gave him a one-armed side hug. “It’s okay, Daesung.”
Daesung just whined a little. “I can’t help it.”
“Daesung, I’m actually thankful that you’re a mutual friend between Seunghyun andme,” Jiyong said, moving forward into Kips Bay. “You’re the type to worry and fuss over us when our mothers aren't here and just from that, you make us feel almost too loved, protected. I’m glad I’m able to tell you about the affair, I’m glad you’re with Seunghyun, but Daesung,” Jiyong parked on the curb across from Daesung’s apartment. “You never need to feel sorry about that.”
Daesung cracked a smile, finally giving his trademark grin. “Yeah,” He said with a small sigh. Sharing a smile, Daesung climbed out, going into the apartment’s lobby as Jiyong merged into the road toward Carmel Place two blocks away.
It was warm in his apartment. Ai was sunbathing before she got on her feet, greeting him with a high tail and a meow as she rubbed against his ankles. Jiyong crouched to stroke her back and take off his shoes. He unlaced the strings and pulled them off before walking to the kitchen for a drink of water.
“Hey, Ai,” Jiyong said and the cat perked her ears. “What do you think of having another cat friend?”
Ai’s tail flicked and Jiyong laughed, kissing the top of her head. “Just kidding. I’m just worried you're lonely.”
Jiyong put down the glass of water, leaning against the counter as he felt a spin of lethargy hit him like a bus. That wasn’t good, Jiyong thought, as he tried shaking it away. Jiyong took off his flannel shirt and let it hang on the chair as he laid in bed, sighing as the clock read 2 pm. Time was going too slow.
Ai went back to sunbathing as she sprawled out on her side, closing her eyes as the sun warmed her. Jiyong watched her with affection as his own eyes began to droop with exhaustion.
Jiyong didn’t hear his phone ring with a notification on the kitchen’s counter.
Seunghyun woke up at 3 AM, alcohol bottles around him beside the couch. Some tipped over, the impact of hitting the floor ringing in the quiet, dark apartment, save for the display boards from Times Square.
He sat up, pushing away the bottles as he groaned, holding his pulsing head. After it dulled, he leaned back, sighing, staring outside before his eyes fell on the one spot Jiyong used to sit at by the window. A painful ache hurt his chest and Seunghyun looked away, breathing in a shaky breath. For a moment, he saw Jiyong with his legs sprawled out, swirling a can of beer in his hand as he stared emotionlessly outside.
Seunghyun let it out, the breath that he’d been holding, because when he blinked, Jiyong was still there. He shook his head, standing up, and went to his room. When he looked back at the window, Jiyong was gone.
There was a steaming rag on Seunghyun’s forehead and the older man blinked from his sticky eyes. His body felt heavy and he couldn’t even move his arm. His throat was parched and held a bitter taste of the morning saliva.
He saw his door being opened and he stared at Daesung who met his eyes with a smile. “Good morning, hyung,” He said cheerfully. “You’re sick.”
“Yeah,” Seunghyun said and his voice was hoarse. “I can feel it.”
Daesung changed the rag on his forehead. “Were you drinking yourself to death?” Daesung asked, looking more worried and stern now as he sat on the stool beside Seunghyun’s bed.
“Yeah,” Seunghyun swallowed. “Is there water?”
Daesung held out a glass of water and Seunghyun forced himself to sit up. His head suddenly got hit by a wave of dizziness, making a ringing sound in his ears and he groaned, feeling a headache rock his mind. Seunghyun felt sick and he down the water all in attempts to feel better. Seunghyun laid back down, groaning as Daesung only gave him an expressionless face. It was scary to see and Seunghyun felt anxious about it. He probably had an idea what Daesung might say next.
“I’m worried about you nowadays,” Daesung says instead and Seunghyun turned his head to see him.
“Why?” Seunghyun asked, wondering why Daesung suddenly confessed that.
“Because. I know you’re a heavy drinker, but looking at all those bottles, I’m worried you’re going to get alcohol poisoning. You’re not really playful anymore and you’re just quiet and tired,” Daesung wrung his hands. “Both of you guys are trying to hard to forget each other but you’re also wrecking yourselves. It’s terrible to watch.”
Seunghyun didn’t have to ask what Daesung meant by “both of you guys”. It had to be Jiyong and himself. But as usual, Daesung was right. Seunghyun was trying to forget about Jiyong, he tried to give up on him, tried to expect nothing; it was only breaking him. Instead, Seunghyun kept hoping.
“I’m sorry,” Seunghyun said quietly, using the hot towel to cover his eyes. He was feeling tears of frustration in his eyes and hoped Daesung didn’t notice his voice wavering with a lump in Seunghyun’s throat.
“Don’t say that to me,” Daesung said, his voice husky. “Say that to Jiyongie-hyung.”
And Seunghyun began to cry.