Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s one of those nights again.

His eyes open as if he’s been jolted by electricity and maybe he’s really been shocked by it. That’s not a far off scenario. Maybe he fell asleep in one place that he really shouldn’t sleep in and he accidentally got electrified to death. Maybe one of the stage lights fell upon him and he’s up here enjoying the afterlife while people back there looking at his all gored up body. A freak accident. If that really did happen though, he chuckles, he’d already be screaming at my body, telling me he saw this coming and calling me an idiot.

He looks around. If he’s learned anything in his life, it’s always to pay attention to everything around you. He sees nothing but blue and the darkness—not anything new though. This is a dream; he always wakes up like this. How many months has it been ever since he started waking up like this? Too many that he never bothers counting anymore. Why count when you can enjoy the ride? He thinks, and then he starts swimming into nowhere.

He swims into the deep abyss, without a care in the world. It changes every night, but it he always knows where he is. So he swims without fear, without concern and for a moment his whole being relaxes.

Then since nothing good happens to him, he turns around and—

…

Lee Jihoon wakes up.

His head hurts but he ignores that. He’s been waking up every day with headaches that he’d actually be concerned if he didn’t wake up without one. His limbs and joints hurt but that’s something a little pain reliever won’t be able to fix. He wants to lie back in bed and sleep in more with Seokmin but the other isn’t already there and he’s definitely sure he’s needed at the studio at this moment. So against all his wishes, he gets out of bed, goes to his bathroom and starts his morning routine.

He stares at himself in the mirror, maybe a bit longer than necessary. His hand comes up and he feels his chin, wondering if he can get away without shaving. He takes a deep breath and an even deeper sigh, slouching forward. It’s been how many months? It feels like years and it has been years—but it feels like it’s been far too long. He blinks slowly at his reflection. He’s not getting any younger, but getting older feels like a chore—still light years away. Forget mid-life crisis.

He shakes away his thoughts, washes his face, and brushes his teeth. He heard last night that it’s Mingyu’s turn to cook breakfast and he’s never someone who turns down the offer of a hot homemade meal, especially since it’s rare to snag the chance to go home nowadays. So he continues brushing his teeth, almost mechanically.

He looks at his reflection again, his form gaunt and tired. Is this really him? He doesn’t recognize the person in front of him anymore. Perhaps the world has replaced all reflections with a doppelganger and no one thought to tell him of it. Maybe the person in front of him, even if how silly this idea is, isn’t him anymore but rather it’s a two way mirror and on the other side is an impersonator of him. He looks around, maybe a camera crew is about to barge into the door now?

Then he chuckles to himself, shakes away those silly thoughts. Maybe he’s been hanging around too much around Seokmin, not that it’s necessarily a bad thing. He looks again at his reflection, now there’s a faint smile on his lips and maybe he feels a little bit better about himself. He touches his chin once again.

Maybe he can get away without shaving today.

…

“You didn’t shave today.” is the first thing Jeonghan says when he enters the kitchen.

“Good morning Jihoon, how are you today? Oh, I’m fine. Thank you for askin’ Jeonghan.” Jihoon replies back. He is sitting in front of the table, a plate in front of him and currently is pouring himself a glass of orange juice. He looks at Jeonghan unamused. “Good mornin’ to you too.”

Jeonghan scoffs before sitting in front of him. “All right, no need to get all passive-aggressive on me.”

Jihoon has long finished his meal of scrambled eggs and bacon courtesy of one Kim Mingyu. He’s now too busy drinking orange juice so he just shrugs in reply to him. Jeonghan rests his chin on his hands and eyes him lazily. It’s unnerving to be at the receiving end of his stares. Jihoon feels the beginning of slight anxiousness forming at the back of his mind.

“Stop doing that.” Jihoon says as soon as he finishes drinking juice.

“Doing what?”

Staring at me like you’re fishing for my deepest secrets. No one has to know that, is what Jihoon wants to tell him but he’s a coward so he does not. Instead he says: “Staring at me like a creep. Why are you even doing that? What are you? A sasaeng? You see me every day Jeonghan.”

The other actually laughs loudly at that. Throws his whole back into it even. “Hey, careful now. What if they planted recording devices into our homes?”

Jihoon shrugs at him again. “Okay. With the money I make from my copyright of the songs, I probably can live comfortable when I get inevitably kicked out of the group.” Jihoon tells him, “You didn’t answer my first question.”

 Now it’s Jeonghan’s turn to shrug. “Can’t I stare at my favorite dongsaeng without any reason at all?”

Jihoon gives him an unamused look. Jeonghan laughs again.

“Just wondering.” Jeonghan admits. “Out of all of us, you’re probably the one who rarely skips out shaving.”

 “Seokmin likes it. You know that hyung.” Jihoon replies unabashedly and before the other can even use that as ammo against him, he looks at his phone and sees that he really is running late for the studio. “Fuck, gotta run. Bumzu’s probably waiting for me.” He stands up from his seat, gathers up his things and runs away. “See ya later. Might get home late though!”

“Wait!” Jeonghan blinks at him, surprised but Jihoon doesn’t even spare him even a single moment. A weakness here and it might mean getting teased for the rest of his idol life about how soft he is for Seokmin. “Who’s—“

Jihoon does not hear him. He’s already out the door, his face flushed red and the only thing his mind is filled with is Seokmin and the thought that he really can’t believe he just did that.

…

to: sunshine
from: moonshine

can’t wait to see you later sdlfkjsf
actually…. ahhhh can you swing by the studio later?
if you’re free
i really miss you

…

And maybe Jihoon is acting quite out of character right now but his whole being is filled with happiness and contentment and it doesn’t make sense! He smiles to himself, nodding in time with the beat he created. (The way he makes him feels—really unbelievable, incredible—how many nights did Jihoon stay up chasing after songs he left the beginning notes of?)

 Some hi-hats. Kick there. Maybe up the bass a bit?  The drum sample he recorded a while back would fit there (it does). Turn to his midi as the bones play with the full intent of adding a little bit more meat here. All improvised, nothing good ever comes from planning too far. A little bit of synth, funky—groovy. He tinkers around the beat more and when he feels like it’s done he takes another listen to it. It’s off in a few places but it’s okay for a warm up.

This isn’t exactly the song he wanted to make, but it’s infinitely better.

A hand on his shoulder breaks his thoughts out and Jihoon looks to see Bumzu looking at him amused. He says something but Jihoon does not hear it so he takes out the headphones from his ears.

“Hyung.” He says, “Why?”

“Just thought I’d make myself known.” Bumzu says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Did something good happen? Usually at this point you’d be shouting at Cubase already for crashing on you.”

“Hyung.” Jihoon rolls his eyes. “I don’t do that.”

“Don’t lie to yourself Jihoon. How many times was I scared because I thought you might legitimately break our only Launchpad?”

“I’m sorry then.” is the only reply he can muster up, his cheeks already turning to the color red.

Bumzu laughs at him. The older messes up his hair before moving back to sit on the sofa. Jihoon turns around his office chair before resting his entire upper body on the back of it. God bless for chairs that are able to turn around without much difficulty.

“No worries kid.” Bumzu tells him, “Did something happen then? A girl, maybe?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Hyung.”

He raises an eyebrow. “A boy then?”

“Hyung,” Jihoon sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Don’t play games with me, you already know him.”

“Really? It’s one of Seventeen then?” Bumzu replies back. He looks far too curious that it really seems genuine. “Who is it then? Jeonghan? Soonyoung? Ah, it’s Seungcheol isn’t it? You’ve always been far too close to him.”

“Wha—!? No! Hyung. It’s Seokmin, did you forget?” Jihoon exclaims, looking surprised and a tiny bit annoyed. “You always see him and I always talk about him?”

Bumzu sits quietly. He regards Jihoon with confused eyes and almost an eternity passes by before he starts speaking again.

“Who?”

Ladies and Gentlemen. Words can truly break a person.

…

And he sits.

The warm smell of coffee wafts through the air. The café is bustling with energy and chatter. Lee Jihoon is too busy being on his phone.

(“Seokmin? I’m sorry Jihoon but—I’ve literally never heard of a Seokmin before.” Bumzu tilts his head. “Maybe you said it to someone else?”

“Hyung, is this a joke?” Is the only reply he can muster. “You know Lee Seokmin! One-third of gag trio, the man who literally completes the high notes of all my songs! One of the thirteen members of Seventeen?”

“What? Jihoon, are you okay?” Bumzu stares at him and Jihoon can’t see any trace of ingenuity in his eyes. He genuinely looks confused and worried for him and everything is a mess. “There’s only twelve members of Seventeen.”

Then he looks at his eyes again. He takes a moment.

“You know what hyung. I haven’t been feeling okay.” Jihoon tells him after a deep breath, ignoring the lump in his throat. “Maybe I should go back to the dorms and take a rest.”

“Maybe you should.” Bumzu nods, already standing up to take over Jihoon’s place. “I can handle the work today, so don’t worry.”)

Jihoon isn’t worrying about work. He’s too confused, is there a practical joke being played on him right now that’s being taken too far by Bumzu? He doesn’t know what to believe. Bumzu isn’t the type to play these kinds of joke on him. He knows he wouldn’t do this—he knows (knew) how much Jihoon loves Seokmin so the very thought of this joke—unthinkable.

But at this point, he doesn’t even fucking know what to believe anymore. He scrolls down his phone, looking at his gallery, looking at the internet and even looking at fucking Instagram and he sees nothing that can even hint at the existence of Lee Seokmin. Not even a tuft of hair, the shine of his eyes or the glint of his teeth. Even his folders aptly named “sunshine of my life” no longer exists anymore. Even in group pictures, official or not, no matter how many times he counts—it’s always twelve. Always twelve. never thirteen. Always something missing.

A cup of coffee that he ordered when he came in is put in front of him. He really wants to vomit. Seokmin really liked coffee.

…

He goes home, the beginning of tears in his eyes and he feels defeated. He just wants the day to end already and just go home and sleep underneath the covers with Seokmin by his side and that might not even happen because the world hates him and literally can never give him even a moment of peace—can’t even give him anything he wants.

(And what has he ever done to deserve this? Be a tad too cynical? Be a tad too dependent? This wasn’t fair. It was mutual. It was—it was.

It was.)

Funnily, he meets him again soon enough.

Chapter Text

[ERROR. MESSAGE UNSENT. NUMBER UNKNOWN.]

to: sunshine
from: moonshine

can’t wait to see you later sdlfkjsf
actually…. ahhhh can you swing by the studio later?
if you’re free
i really miss you

…

“You’re gonna be late.”

A voice snaps him out of his sleep. Jihoon grumbles and turns around his bed. After the events of yesterday in where he almost humiliated himself in an effort to figure out if there really was a human called Seokmin who existed, there is nothing more that he wants than to just stay in bed all day. Never facing the real world, existing only in his dreams where at least Seokmin would still exist, living only in memories that right now seem so far and few. Jihoon regrets.

(“Seokmin? Did we ever have a trainee or a member called Seokmin?” Joshua tilts his head as Jihoon asks him the moment he finds him alone. He looks at the younger guy and he sees desperation in his eyes, his whole form practically crying out and Joshua cannot help but take pity on him.

“Yes, Seokmin. Do you remember—know if we had anyone with that name?” Jihoon repeats his question. His voice raspy and low, like he’s been crying for hours. Joshua’s heart breaks. He almost doesn’t want to answer the question.

But he has to. Jihoon looks at him as if he holds all the answers and Joshua knows the very act of Jihoon asking him is a testament to how desperate he is. No one approaches him for hard-hitting questions like this, unless there is an impeccable need for the truth. Everyone knows he does not lie. Joshua knows that he cannot start lying now.

So he says, despite his better judgement: “No. We did not have anyone named Seokmin.”

“Ah. All right.” Jihoon’s voice cracks and Joshua knows he is watching the destruction and the fall of someone near and dear to him. It is too late to stop it, so he just resigns to watching. There is pain on his chest and he does not know if it belongs to him or to Jihoon, perhaps both. This whole ordeal—seeing the younger like this pains him. He never really did liked seeing anyone hurt. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” Joshua nods at him and Jihoon leaves. He feels like he should do something but he does not. He is only an observer, someone who watches—never someone who directly interferes. So he watches Jihoon leave in silence, the atmosphere tense. Joshua remembers a movie he watched when he was young. A man, sentenced to a crime he did not commit, walking to his death. His shoulders tense and broad, his head no longer held up high, there is nothing left of his pride or life. He has accepted, he isn’t dead yet but he is no longer living.

So Joshua watches. He knows with such intense certainty that their next song will be a sad one.)

Yet, the voice does not stop. Instead it gets even annoyed.

“Really!” It sighs and suddenly Jihoon’s eyes open with such urgency. He knows this voice. “Wake up ‘hoonie!”

Jihoon looks and he sees him. All in His glory. As if he never disappeared, as if the events of yesterday was all a bad dream—and maybe it was. It was a bad dream, Jihoon convinces himself, he’s real and he’s here and everything that happened yesterday was all just stress—or a joke that went too far. He looks and takes in his fill—as if any moment the man in front of him will be taken away just like that.

“Seokmin.” He breathes out, tears already on his eyes, relief in his heart. His hands are already reaching out to him. “You’re here.”

Seokmin simply looks at him, gives him a small smile yet he does not make any move to reach out to Jihoon. “You’re gonna be late.”

“I missed you.” Jihoon tells him.

“It’s way past ten am. Most of the members already left.”

“They said you weren’t real.”

“You’re needed in the studio, aren’t you?”

“Seokmin.” His name feels heavy on his tongue as he starts to realize something. “Can you please hand me my phone?”

He smiles at him, wide and big—showing his teeth. His eyes isn’t the same as the Seokmin he knows. “Don’t you have hands, ‘hoonie?”

Something is oh-so very wrong.

…

Anomalous experiences are benign hallucinations that aren’t caused by fatigue, sensory deprivation or intoxication and are even found in people with good mental and physical health. They are hallucinations that cannot be explained by modern scientific knowledge. Most of the times they are labelled as a paranormal phenomenon though this does not mean they’re paranormal in nature. One of the most common anomalous experiences would be the apparitional experience in where the experient (the one experiencing the phenomenon) would see an apparent perception of an object, human or animal in front of them. Known in popular culture as ghost, the apparitional experience is anything but.

…

“You’re not real, are you?” Jihoon’s hands are still outstretched. He doesn’t have the heart to bring them down, just in case. (Just in case what? Just in case this hallucination suddenly becomes tangible and corporeal so that Jihoon would be able to touch him? Pathetic.)

“Depends on what you consider real,” Pseudo-Seokmin shrugs, “But, I’m the best you’ll ever get.”

Jihoon holds his breath for a moment. “You’re not him.”

The atmosphere relaxes and he actually smiles at that. “That’s not gonna stop your little heart from continuing to love me though.”

Jihoon does not reply.  His hands drop to his blanket and he realizes this is better than nothing. He’ll take whatever he can get.

…

Jihoon gets out of bed after that, goes to the bath room and starts his daily routine. Seokmin trails behind him. It makes him want to believe in the notion that he’s in the world where Seokmin is real and everything is right in the world again. And for a second he can actually do that—he can suspend belief, set aside the pragmatic side of him and continue to live in a world where everything is okay and he’s all right but that’s hard to do. It’s hard to live in lies no matter how pretty and perfect and amazing it looks like.

So Jihoon looks in the mirror again, looks at the Seokmin behind him. He notices it and he smiles at Jihoon. It makes him want to punch the mirror. (He smiles in the wrong ways, it’s him—it’s his face but at the same time it’s not. That’s not how Seokmin smiles—there’s no flash of cockiness in his eyes, there’s no aura of superiority in him. This is a sham, that’s what it is—fake. A measly bootleg of the real thing.)

Jihoon touches his chin.

“You look more handsome if you don’t shave, hyung.” Seokmin says from behind him.

And thus, Jihoon ends up shaving that morning.

…

Jihoon gets out of the bathroom and goes straight to the kitchen. He avoids Joshua who seems to be looking at him with eyes that know too much, avoids Jeonghan who looks at him with eyes that wants to dig deep into his being, and he avoids anything that can remind him of Seokmin.

Seokmin, of course, trails behind him.

…

“You going to the studio later?” Seungcheol appears out of nowhere as Jihoon eats his cereal in peace. “Bumzu called me to ask you.”

Seokmin perks up from the counter he was sitting on when he enters the kitchen. His legs swing for a moment before he finally jumps up from where he was sitting. He walks over to Seungcheol and Jihoon, curiosity in his eyes and posture. He looks like a cat.

“Is this Seungcheol?” He asks, looking at Seungcheol like he’s the most interesting guy he’s ever seen. Even if Jihoon tries to remind himself that this isn’t the real Seokmin, he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy—wishing he was the one being stared at instead—and it’s so dumb so he tries to shake away those thoughts. “He doesn’t look that leader-like. He looks like a puppy that’s been given responsibility a few sizes too big on him.”

Jihoon can’t help but snort at this. “Yeah.”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. Jihoon remembers this pseudo-Seokmin isn’t real and therefore no one else can probably see him. “I don’t know what’s funny about what I said but I assume that’s a yes on the studio?”

Jihoon quickly takes a big bite of cereal in an attempt to deflect the question. Seungcheol looks unamused at him and Jihoon shrugs and points at his mouth, Seokmin looks like he’s on the verge of laughing.

“Can’t tawk. ‘m Eatin’” Jihoon says through a mouth stuffed with cereal. He takes his sweet time chewing while Seungcheol looks at him still trying his best to look unamused and responsible but Jihoon already sees the beginning of a smile on the corner of his lips.

“You know what, just message Bumzu if you’re gonna go or not.” Seungcheol sighs, already giving up. His face has a small smile on it so Jihoon knows he’s not really in trouble nor is the older really annoyed. “Besides, he did just only ask me to pass the message.”

and with Seungcheol leaving the kitchen, it brings about the loudest laughs from Seokmin. It wasn’t even that funny if you thought about it, but with how Seokmin laughs—Jihoon can’t also help the few chuckles that escape from him and all he could think about was how unfair this whole situation is.

Chapter Text

—and the genius rests in his chair as he looks at his surroundings. He feels the stare of the imposter behind him and he almost shivers. Is he afraid of him? Perhaps he is but Jihoon would rather die than admit it. He is being scared, the only thing that’s ever really scared him has already happened—this imposter has done nothing but shakes his nerves yet not tip him over the edge.

Jihoon survives. Jihoon has died once and he survived. He’ll survive an imposter that only he can see and never touch.

(Yet he looks so terrifyingly like him.

Jihoon stares at him with such intensity as he picks up details of him that only he’s ever truly noticed. He has the same eyes dulled with years of training and strengthened with years of coping, has the same hands calloused beyond belief, shows how hard he’s prepared for this life. He has the same soft hair, smells the same too—like tangerines in the summer time. Jihoon stares at him and if it weren’t for the fact that he cannot touch this imposter, maybe he would delude himself into thinking that—ah yes this is his Seokmin.

Then the imposter smiles that smile that cannot possibly be his, and it reminds Jihoon that ah—even if he so desperately wishes, he will never be Seokmin and maybe he’s accepted it. Maybe not.)

(Jihoon is only human. Jihoon is only human and it is so fucking scary that he doesn’t know what to do.)

He sighs as he rubs the bridge of his nose. Logically, he knows what to do. That’s all he’s ever been really—someone who takes the next logical step, emotions be damned. Yet his hands tremble at the thought of forgetting Seokmin, of just resigning his life with this imposter (if he’ll even stick around for the rest of his life).

Ha.

Accepting that Seokmin’s gone? Ask again in a couple of years. Maybe when Jihoon’s dead and has spent an eternity without him will he ever truly accept that Seokmin is gone.

Jihoon shakes his head. It’s not even the time to think about it (and maybe he’ll never really find an time to think about it), it’s the work day. He actually has things to do, things to check upon so he loads up Cubase, opens his folders and—

Oh?

What?

Interesting.

Jihoon goes back to the dorm with a lot on his mind and something warm grows within the confines of his chest. Something that promises him that maybe this is all just a bad dream and soon enough he’d be able to wake up from it. It takes everything he has to not squash it even if it’s barely begun to grow.

The imposter follows him around, drifting almost lazily as he does so. He’s eerily quiet for the most part, not even taunting Jihoon even once. Perhaps he’s already realized that his sole existence is the biggest insult he can ever inflict upon him.

When Jihoon reaches his room, he immediately looks under his bed.

Wait, no. Stop.

When Jihoon reaches his room after avoiding Jeonghan (who seems to give him the creeps more often than ever) and not meeting Joshua’s sympathetic eyes, he immediately looks around if there’s anyone in it, and then locks the door to his room before looking under his bed. He even checks his locks twice just to make sure it’s really locked.

The imposter whistles. “Paranoid much?”

Jihoon doesn’t give him any time of his day as he looks for something under his bed, his arm outstretched as he looks for something that might not even exist here. He’s stuffed it to the deep ends of his bed, somewhere where there’s an unlikely chance any of the others would find it since they don’t exactly fit under the bed like he does. He feels the hard wooden walls of a box and his heart sinks in relief.

It exists here.

Seventeen has moved dorms twice now and yet he’s never failed to bring this box alongside him, never also failed to hide it from the other members especially Seokmin.

Jihoon retrieves it, puts it on his lap and blows on any of the dust on top it as the imposter looks at it curiously. From an outsider, it looks like any other plain wooden box, but for Jihoon it could very well contain the secrets of the universe.

He opens the box gingerly; his hands tremble as he does. For a moment, he hesitates but that only happens for a split second. His resolve is stronger than anything else in this world at this moment, and so he continues.

The imposter laughs. “It’s getting weird now, isn’t it?”

In the box lays numerous polaroids Jihoon has taken of Seokmin, both candidly and not candidly, during their years of knowing each other. Under the known laws of this current universe, they shouldn’t exist.

(But they do.

What’s happening here?)

Seokmin doesn’t exist.

Jihoon knows that this is a fact of this universe, that one of the few laws in this universe is that Seokmin isn’t real, that he’s just someone Jihoon’s mind probably made up. And yet in this box are one of the few proofs that tell Jihoon he’s real—that at one point in time, he existed.

He looks at the polaroids. Touches them even. They’re real, so inexplicably real that it feels so fake. Jihoon looks at Seokmin smiling for the camera, the way his eye crinkles that is so inexplicably him. The way the sun seems to be behind him in every picture that he’s ever taken—the way Seokmin feels like the sun himself is so fucking evident in these pictures that it feels so fucking fake.

And yet here they are, real as day and night—breaking the laws of the known universe.

Jihoon looks at the ceiling. This isn’t the only thing that proves Seokmin’s existence. In his studio, in the hidden depths of his folders and documents exist writing that only Seokmin could’ve written. Exist notes and lyrics that Jihoon could never write . Voice files that doesn’t sound anything like the other guys, a kind of vocal tone that only he could ever have.

So what’s really happening here, huh?

“Yikes,” The imposter says as he looks on towards the box. Jihoon spares him a glance. “You’re really quite a stalker huh?”

Jihoon bristles at this. He closes the box and puts it back to where he’s always hid it but also careful to take at least one polaroid with him (the one where they’re together, Jeonghan took the photo even if it was against Jihoon’s wishes) in case the universe realizes the box exists and takes it away from him.

“No need to be offended, dear.” The imposter chuckles. “I don’t mean that in any way.”

Jihoon shoots him a dirty glare and the imposter only shrugs.

“What are you gonna do now?” He asks, as if he wasn’t just insulting Jihoon. He sits on Jihoon’s bed and looks at him curiously. He looks so much more like Seokmin now than he has ever had in the few days Jihoon saw him.

I don’t know , is on the tip of Jihoon’s tongue. He legitimately doesn’t know what he’s going to do at this point. Seokmin exists, but what’s he going to do with this little bit of information? All he knows is that he’s not that crazy yet and it’s the universe who’s truly crazy. He fiddles with his fingers as he thinks and weighs his pros and cons.

Does he look for Seokmin? Jihoon asks himself. If he looks for him—where will he even start? Screaming at the void and hoping the void gives him anything? The mirage of an answer—a hint of where Seokmin could be hiding? If he’s left Jihoon then there’s an answer to why he’d done it and he’s not so sure he wants to find out.

If he doesn’t look for him—Jihoon looks at the imposter.

“I’ll look for him.” Jihoon says, taking his eyes off him and laying on the ground. “What did you expect from a fool like me?”

“You don’t even know where to start.” The imposter points out and he’s sounding more and more incredulous as he hears Jihoon spout out nonsense. “He’s left you out of his own accord—why would you even look for him ?”

Jihoon doesn’t give him a proper answer. Yet the words are on his mind, spelling out a clear and foolish answer that goes against everything Jihoon claims he stands for, logic and reason. Even as he strives his best, he’s always been emotional—too easy to cry and too easy to love. With the thousands of I-love-yous that he’s uttered to him on his mind, Jihoon falls asleep on the cold hard floor—exhausted from the events of the past few hours. He falls asleep on the cold hard floor, his head throbbing in pain, as he clutches onto a polaroid of Seokmin and him like a lifeline. One of the polaroids that had them smiling earnestly, the beginning of their relationship.

And when someone sleeps, they dream.

Chapter Text

in his sleep is a new world that doesn’t exist within the realm that mortals know exist.

jihoon opens his eyes and sees a vast land of nothingness, he looks around and he’s not quite sure if he still exists or not. its all so muddy and unclear—a mirage of some sort. a world where he knows like it’s the back of his hand and yet—he’s not so sure where he is. he feels the beginning of a headache form and then—

“ seokmin. ” jihoon breathes out and he reaches out to touch him—

only for his hand to pass through him again.

 “sorry, still not quite him.” this seokmin smiles again sardonically and jihoon glares at him. he looks around his surroundings, a curious glint in his eyes. “though i wonder how i ended up here.”

and before jihoon can question what exactly that means—even if he wants this particular seokmin to just go away and stop reminding him of things he can never truly have—something happens. he can’t exactly pin point what exactly is wrong but in this hazy after image of a dream, there is sudden clarity that actually hurts Jihoon's mind. A sudden sharpness that he hasn’t expected that reminds Jihoon of Minghao abusing the sharpen filter on Instagram.

“You're not supposed to be here.” A voice unlike any other calls Jihoon's attention. “You were never supposed to be here—how are you here?”

“ Jeonghan? ” Jihoon's eyes widen as he recognizes the figure that’s probably causing all of this sudden clarity. “I should be the one asking that question, how are you here in my dream?”

Jeonghan—no no, Jihoon looks on more closely, yes this being takes on Jeonghan's face but uncanny valley works its way and this being looks as if he took Jeonghan's face and wrapped it around himself it fits, but it also doesn’t fit quite perfectly and it only looks like this being is squirming underneath his mask. Jihoon shivers as this Jeonghan tilts his head.

“You misunderstand, Lee Jihoon. This isn’t any dream of yours—it’s my domain.” The being says with a voice that can only be described as hell-like. He waves his hand and suddenly indescribable monsters--Eldritch abominations appear behind him, “Now tell me Lee Jihoon, what should I do to you now? Should I take my time punishing you or should I exert mercy and destroy your mind?” Then he sees the imposter behind Jihoon and smiles, as if this explains everything. “Ah, I see.”

“You see?” Jihoon can’t keep the tremble from  his voice.

“I see.” The being nods and his voice changes from being hell-like to something more—normal, human-like. With another wave of his hand, the monsters disappear. “I'm not going to punish you for trespassing upon my domain. It seems you’ve solved the mystery surrounding your Seokmin.

“Seokmin--what, what do you know about him?” Jihoon, despite being scared out of his wits, says. He has to know the truth, even if faced with someone more powerful than he can ever hope to be. “— Who are you?”

“Who am I?” The being echoes, a mischievous smile on his face. “Why, I'm the very being that took him of course!”

Jihoon considerably calms down enough to finally have a proper conversation with this being. It helps that this being can restrain his movements by the virtue of the fact that he can control anything that happens within his domain.

“Don't anger him Jihoon.” DK whispers to his ear once the being releases him from his binds. “He can kill you, you know? Even if this is the dream world.”

“Perhaps you should listen to your friend right there.” The being says almost bored. “Honestly, I expected too much from you I daresay.”

“What did you do to Seokmin?” Jihoon asks, ignoring both of their advices. “ Where is he? ”

The being merely raises an eyebrow at him, almost amused. “Why, he’s beside you, of course!”

“Don't joke around!” Jihoon exclaims. “He's not Seokmin—he’s not my Seokmin .”

“He's as Seokmin as he gets, and perhaps the only Seokmin you’ll only ever know.” The being shrugs before his eyes turn scheming. “Unless—“

“ No . No." The imposter behind him says, “This wasn’t—Jihoon, don’t listen to whatever he’s got to say. You can’t trust this being.”

“Unless what?” Jihoon ignores the imposter’s advice. The mere hint that he could meet Seokmin again is enough to keep him driving. Enough to keep him reckless.

“It's been an entirely boring millennia.” The being says, his eyes narrowed yet filled with unbridled excitement. “There's nothing but war and pestilence in your world and i’ve always enjoyed a good tragedy that isn't mindless—tell you what, you entertain me, I'll give him back to you.”

The imposter tries to hold Jihoon back. Yet he fails.

“What do I do then?” Jihoon asks, desperation oh so evident in his voice that it makes it easier for anyone to be able to use him—to manipulate him.

“Call me Jeonghan, Jihoon. I suspect you and I will have a lot of fun.” The smile the being gives out makes Jihoon think he’s just sold his soul to the Devil. “What I want you to do is easy enough. Findbthe three reasons why he’s left and I'll give him back to you.”

“Where should I start.” Jihoon tilts his head slightly. It doesn’t sound too unreasonable at all and he—he also wants to know.

“Jihoon. You can’t do this.” The imposter says behind him, his voice cracks. “Jeonghan this wasn’t—“

“It's easy enough.” Jeonghan cuts off the imposter before he can finish his sentences. Jihoon is too wrapped up with the prospect of finding Seokmin that he doesn’t notice how wrecked with grief the imposter is right now. Jeonghan snaps his fingers. “I suppose you can start with your memories, no?”

Then the ground swallows Jihoon and the imposter up.

Chapter Text

When Jihoon gains his consciousness, the impostor is above him floating. He can smell the sea from where he is lying and can feel sand at the tip of his fingertips. Jihoon knows where he is.

“Busan?” Jihoon finally gets up from the sandy beach. “Why are we in Busan?”

DK shrugs, just choosing to float in silence. It’s quite unnerving to see the other just floating there, without any care in the world. Jihoon can’t quite help but still compare him to the real DK. He wouldn’t do this, he was always giving it all in everything he does. He wouldn’t just deem to float in an aura that screams of depression. That wasn’t his job, that was Jihoon’s job. It was always DK who was the angel of a person and him who was the angry gremlin.

Jihoon looks at him in contempt.

“Listen, I know you’re fake and all, and you probably don’t even want to be here.” Jihoon starts rather angrily, burrowing his hands into his jacket’s pocket. “I get it, I don’t even want you to be here, but just… At least, help me out here.”

DK continues to float, seemingly ignoring him.

“Oh my god.” Jihoon takes a deep breath in an effort to compose himself. “Fine! Be like that. I don’t even care anymore.”

He stalks off to the other direction and DK follows him without saying a single word. His face is twisted into a displeased emotion and it makes Jihoon want to take that damn mask off. 

Dealing with the ghost can wait. There are more important things to do.

There’s really only one thing to do when you’re in your hometown and that is to go visit your parents. 

That’s exactly the first step that Jihoon can do. He takes the bus home and even if it’s been months since he’s last been here, he still knows the way. Years of living in Seoul won’t take away the years of muscle memory he’s had due to commuting.

Jihoon leans over to the window as he watches the entire world go by. He doesn’t know where to start and he doesn’t even know if going back to his house would help anything in order to get DK back but… It’s better than nothing.

Suddenly, DK sits next to him. The seat next to him doesn’t dip in his weight even if there’s a being sitting there, it stays the same way it does.

“Don’t go.” DK whispers in such a small voice that it almost trembles. He doesn’t look at Jihoon, only looking straight ahead. “Please, just don’t go.”

“Oh, so now you want to talk?” Jihoon can’t help but acidly reply. “Give me one good reason, one good reason to listen to you?”

“You don’t understand anything.” DK whispers. “You don’t understand a single thing.”

“Then make me understand!” Jihoon exclaims, standing up from his chair for a quick second before sitting down again. He’s thankful that there is no one in the bus to judge him

except maybe for the bus driver. “I don’t understand anything and that’s why I’m doing this!”

DK suddenly faces Jihoon with such speed that it almost gave him whiplash. His face is tense and set and his lips are trembling. For a moment, Jihoon can believe this is his and would want nothing more to reach out to him.

“I’m him.” This DK starts to say and then the illusion is suddenly shattered. “I’m him and I’m probably the closest thing you’ll ever get because that being is the literal devil and won’t let you get out of here.”

DK’s head falls down in resignation, he reaches out to touch Jihoon’s hand but his hand only passes through the other. It stays there though and Jihoon doesn’t have the strength to take it back.

“Let’s just get out of here.” DK looks up, and his eyes are shining brightly with tears. “Why can’t you just be happy with me?”

Jihoon takes a moment. His hands are trembling and he doesn’t know if it’s because of the fact that even though he can’t touch the other in ways that do matter, he can still feel his temperature. This DK has a particularly cold temperature, so unlike the DK that he knows and loves.

“I know everything that he does. I’m him.” DK tells him, almost desperate. “I’ll be there for you, never growing old. Always a step behind you, always following you. I’ll never leave you.”

Jihoon hesitates. For a second, what the other one offers seems very tempting. For a second, he starts to believe that's what he wants in life.

“Isn’t that what you want? I can give those things to you.” DK begs him. “I can be the things you know he can’t be to you. Why not me? Why him?”

Then Jihoon snaps into reality again. Those aren’t the things he wants in life. He wants the domesticity of it all. He wants to grow old with DK, to be able to freely touch him whenever he can. He wants to love him the way he knows how to. Concretely, with his entire being.

“It’s because you’re not him.” Jihoon answers truthfully. “You’re not him and you’ll never be him.”

DK laughs humorlessly. He looks up in an effort to hide the pain in his eyes but it is still so evident when he talks. “Now I kinda understand why the ‘real’ Seokmin decided to make a deal with the devil.”

He disappears with a snap. Jihoon doesn’t know where to nor does he have any means of finding out. He just sinks further into his seat, looking out of the window, seeing the sights come and go. The entire bus ride home is silent and lonely.

Jihoon still feels cold.

Chapter Text

Jihoon arrives at his home without Seokmin’s ghost haunting him. 

It doesn’t look like anything has changed from when he last came back. He bought his family a new home with the money he got from Seventeen. It was a modest house with four bedrooms. The outside was off-white and it needed new painting. Jihoon can remember how white and sparkling it was when he first bought it and gave the keys to his parents. Yet, that was a long time ago. Things have changed.

Jihoon goes inside. He would’ve gone straight to his room if it weren’t for the fact that the veranda was open. His curiosity gets the best of him. This was a dream, time doesn’t matter here. He could regroup later and figure out what to do later. He enters the veranda.

The cold air nips at him as he sees Seokmin, the real one, standing on the veranda. He was smiling at a Jihoon who had an expression that was the mix between exasperation and fondness as he sat near the taller man. Seokmin was showing Jihoon something on his phone, and if the expression on the shorter one was anything to go by, it was probably something the other members sent the two of them. 

Jihoon knows what this was all about. It was the time he brought Seokmin to meet his parents. He remembers this as clear as day and he knows the date too, October 1. At this time, his parents were inside, preparing more food. They were caught off guard by the arrival of another guest but they quickly warmed up to him.

“Hyung,” Seokmin’s voice quickly turned serious as he put away his phone. Both of his hands were inside of his pockets and his expression turned into a worried one. “Is it really okay for me to be here?”

“What are you talking about, Seokmin?” Dream-Jihoon had a confused expression on his face. “Of course it’s okay for you to be here.”

“Well…” Seokmin sighs as his back leans on the railing of the veranda. He looks tired.

“Well…?” Dream-Jihoon prompts it out of Seokmin.

“Wouldn’t it be better if it was a girl you brought home to?” Seokmin asks in a small voice, not meeting Dream-Jihoon’s eyes. “Not your band member?”

“Better if--Hey!” Jihoon sighs. He motions for Seokmin to come to him. “C’mere.”

Seokmin comes to him. Dream-Jihoon holds his hands as he looks up to the other’s eyes. It’s a picturesque sight. Seokmin looking at dream-him with unsure eyes, as if he doesn’t belong in the picture they’re making right now. Jihoon can see that he very much does, and he knows Dream-Jihoon knows it too. After all, once upon a time, he was him.

“Listen to me Seokmin, my parents don’t care.” Dream-Jihoon reassures him, tightening his grip on the other’s hands as he does so. “And even if they did, I’m an adult. They can’t do anything about it.”

“But,” Seokmin protests again in a small voice. “They’re your family Jihoon.”

“So?” Dream-Jihoon shrugs, “You’re also my family too Seokmin.”

Seokmin looks uncomfortable, as if his own skin didn’t fit his entire body. Dream-Jihoon sighs. 

“I’ll tell you that until you believe it, y’know?” Dream-Jihoon tells him in a softer voice. “All of you guys are my family too.”

“I just,” Seokmin stutters, “I guess, I just feel out of place. Here, with your family.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Dream-Jihoon says, “I want you to meet my parents. I want my parents to meet you. I want my mom and my dad to see you as another of their sons. I want them to see how much I love you, that I’m being taken good care of.”

This makes Seokmin smile a tiny bit. “You know you have a way with words right?”

“I’m not Seventeen’s lyricist for nothing,” Dream-Jihoon smiles at him too.

Seokmin sits beside Dream-Jihoon and rests his head on his shoulders. They’re still holding hands, with dream-him giving the other a hand massage. The bright moon illuminates the both of them. Jihoon has never been sure that this is a dream.

“Sometimes, I still can’t believe this is real.” Seokmin whispers.

“Me too,” Dream-Jihoon replies. “But it is.”

Jihoon’s heart wrenches as he looks at the scene. Is it possible to be jealous over yourself? When was the last time he touched the real Seokmin so tenderly like that? Is he doomed to an eternity without holding the real coherent body of the man he loves with his entire being? He wants to look away. He wants to leave the veranda. This isn’t helping him with the search to find the reasons why Seokmin left. If anything, it makes him feel his disappearance at a much more painful level.

Lee Jihoon does not. He finds himself stuck to his place, watching the scene with such intense focus.

Dream-Jihoon ends up going away. His mother called him over to talk with him. Something about actually helping him around the household and not bothering his guest. Seokmin stays in the veranda, slightly laughing as he watches his elder be scolded by a small woman. Once Dream-Jihoon finally leaves (but not before giving him a small kiss), Seokmin takes out his phone to look at his notifications.

Jihoon doesn’t follow his dream self out of the veranda. If you asked him why, he would say that it was because it would be easier to find the why if he stayed with the person who left. If you asked him why again, he would say that he missed him. That he couldn’t bear leaving even if this wasn’t the real world.

A few minutes pass by as Jihoon watches Seokmin exist in peace. He’s on his phone silently laughing at whatever shenanigans is happening in the Seventeen group chat or maybe scrolling down his secret twitter account. Seokmin is alive, is breathing, is corporeal and can touch Dream-Jihoon, without going through him. Jihoon is suddenly aware of how… unfair this whole situation was.

Then, the door to the veranda slides open. The patriarch of the Lee household comes outside. He sits in the seat opposite to Seokmin who is quick to put his phone away and straighten the way he sits. He looks nervous and who wouldn’t be?

“Dad, no .” Jihoon whispers as he watches his dad prepare for his version of shovel talk. He closes his eyes as he prepares for the cringefest.

“I’m going to be real with you.” His father starts. He looks lost, as if he doesn’t know where to start. “I don’t… I don’t like this entire situation.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow?” Seokmin looks confused. “Can you repeat that again?”

“I know you heard me,” His father says, the expression on his face finally deciding on a look of disappointment. “I’m glad that Jihoon thinks he’s found happiness, and I know he’s old and he can make his own decision but…”

“You don’t think I’m good for him.” Seokmin completes the train of thought. His face is crestfallen, his eyes are shining as if he’s about to cry.

“I know you’re not good for him.” His father clarifies. “Listen, Seokmin. You seem like a good kid, but you and I both know this wasn’t how Jihoon was supposed to end up with. I’m okay with him running along with your boy band and what not but… I know that you know that it’s better if he dated a woman instead.”

“Dad, no .” Jihoon whispers in disbelief, as he walks in front of his dad. It’s not going to do anything, this is just a dream. A memory of something that happened to Seokmin. “Stop saying those things!”

His father stands up and pats Seokmin’s back. “I’ll open the door to my household for you for these remaining days, but I’m sure you know what you have to do when you guys go back.”

His father leaves the veranda. Seokmin sits alone in the dark, completely silent. He looks like he’s about to cry and Jihoon quickly sits beside him.

“Seokmin, you know that’s not how I feel.” Jihoon rambles in a hurry. All of these are in vain, this Seokmin can’t hear him. “You know how fast I’ll throw away my entire career if that means you’ll be happy. You know that I can’t survive without you, that I don’t know how to do that anymore..”

Seokmin ignores what Jihoon is saying, rather he can’t hear any of it. Instead, he takes a deep breath and dabs away the tears in his eyes. His entire being is still trembling but he tries his best to calm himself down. He balls his hands up into a fist and presses crescent-moon marks on his palms.

“It’s just three days Seokmin,” He tells himself, “It’s three days and you’re back in Seoul where you can cry.”

He takes another moment before he exhales. He stands up and enters the home, leaving Jihoon alone in the dark, looking lost. This is the time DK reveals himself again. His feet are on the ground as he looks at Jihoon.

“This was the memory he decided to show you, huh?” DK mused, looking around the veranda. “Well, I guess this one was the one that hurt me the most.”

“I didn’t know.” Jihoon tells him. He doesn’t know why he’s explaining himself to the imposter but it just felt right. He looks up at him, “I didn’t know. How could have I been so blind?”

“Oh, Jihoon,” DK’s face softens as he looks at Jihoon with such intense pity. He reaches out and attempts to touch Jihoon’s hair but his hand passes through instead. “There’s a lot of things you were blind to.”

All of a sudden the world turns black.

“ah, i didn’t expect for you guys to be back so soon.” jeonghan smiles at them once jihoon finally regains consciousness. 

they’re back in the dream world. dk floats besides him looking disinterested despite his early protests. perhaps he’s finally accepted that this was inevitable, that there’s no sense in trying to avoid this.  jihoon cradles his aching head and blinks a few times in order to fully see jeonghan. 

“you have to stop doing that.” jihoon complains to him making jeonghan smile wider.

“but where’s the fun in that?” jeonghan chuckles at him. “i gather you know the first part of this mystery?”

“i--” jihoon hesitates, but answers the question. “i do.”

“well, that’s that completed.” jeonghan looks rather pleased with himself, “the next parts won’t be as easy, you know.”

“will any part of this even be easy?” jihoon asks. his entire being feels even more tired once he remembers there are two other parts to the mystery. 

“that’s a good point to bring up,” jeonghan hums. he puts a finger on the top of his lips as he thinks on it. “i suppose none of this will be easy. for you! but for me? it’s been a lot of fun.”

“you’re a demon.” jihoon snarls out.

“i’ve been called worse.” jeonghan replies, shrugging as he does so. “but you know? i truly am happy that you found the first part. honest! from the deepest parts of my heart, congratulations lee jihoon!”

“if your heart even existed.” 

“now that’s something i’ve never heard before,” jeonghan laughs with his entire being. when he stops he looks at jihoon assessingly. “are you ready for the next one?”

jihoon takes a moment. “i just want to see him again,”

“perfect.”

jeonghan’s wolfish grin is the last thing lee jihoon sees before his entire world turns dark.

Chapter Text

Once again, he’s swallowed by nothingness. The only thing he remembers is sleeping after a tiring day of training. His body is sore and his throat is raspy, he should drink tea to soothe that before going straight to sleep but he does not and he will surely regret it in the morning.

But now is not the time to worry about the future, now is the time to figure out where the fuck he is. He is swallowed by the void, paradoxically feeling everything and nothing at the same time. The deep black nothingness wraps itself around himself and he feels cold. It feels like he’s submerged at below freezing temperatures of sea water yet strangely enough, he breathes. He breathes far easier than he can in real life.

If this is a dream , he thinks to himself. He takes another breath as if it is a luxury he can never afford in his waking hours, then it’s not so bad at all.

It’s an unknown place. It’s something that he’s never seen in his dream in all his years of dreaming. Usually his dreams would greet him with yellow flowers trying their best to crane their necks to the sun as he watches the sun go down. Other times it is night, the yellow flowers around him, mourning peacefully as if they cannot bear to think that their sun is gone and will never come back. He knows better though, the sun always comes back around, always circles around back here and the flowers will see it again. He feels a tugging in his heart strings, the bittersweet sadness that he knows is illogical. There is always that what-if that he feels.

This is a new strange dream that he has never seen before. A new strange dream that feels unnerving despite the way he feels at home here. This is the unknown, this is the void calling to him, and he is human. By all means and account, he should be running away from here, doing his best to wake himself up before the nothingness truly eats him alive.

Yet he does not.

He stays in place, floating and looking at his dark surroundings. If he focuses enough, he sees the vague makings of shapes his brain cannot hope to comprehend. Soon enough, he begins to swim. He doesn’t know where he’s swimming at but there is one thing he is sure of. He’s never felt so free.

He swims his tiny heart out. This dream isn’t as peaceful as his other dreams but it gives him more productive things to do besides watching the sun leave, too powerless to stop it. He channels all of his emotions, all the rage, the tiredness, his entire being, into one thing and he swims every inch of it off. The disappointment that he feels, the insecurity festering inside his broken heart. It doesn’t help him in any way shape or form. This isn’t anything that’s bound to fix all the problems he has right now but… it’s better than nothing. Better than looking at a sun that won’t ever see him no matter how much he tries his best to catch his attention. Swimming to a deep end, to nothingness, even endless is still a better use of his time and energy than senseless pining.

Slowly by slowly, the environment around him changes. It is still the darkness as he knows it but it becomes more coherent. The vague makings of shapes turn into concrete, turns into marble pillars that he can see, turns into a palace that he didn’t know existed within the deep crevice of his mind, turns into a human being that he has both never seen before and seen everyday for the past few years of his idol life.

Jeonghan smiles at him, mouth open wide to show sharp teeth that he doesn’t remember the real Jeonghan having. The black tendrils of nothingness seems to be seeping from him, as if the entire black ocean of the void stems from him. He still hasn’t entered the threshold of his domain, and he isn’t sure if he wants to at this point. It’s… familiar and scary, as if he is looking at a visage he desperately wanted to avoid for the entirety of his life.

Jeonghan doesn’t mind any of this and approaches the floating boy outside of his territory. Even the way he walks isn’t anything like the Jeonghan that he knows. If the real Jeonghan is all languid confidence, one that exerts charisma even without effort, a laid back feel that invites others to rest because they’re safe here, this Jeonghan demands attention, as if everyone belongs to him. It scares the floating man and he sees this.

“Don’t be scared.” Jeonghan chuckles, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The man floats upwards, as if attempting to escape. A bad call. No one can truly escape him once you’ve seen the beginnings of the end.

“Don’t be like that.” Jeonghan tuts, waving his hand forward to bring the man down. He can’t force him to cross the threshold but this is still enough to pacify him. “After all, I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

The man looks curious, and he has been caught in the trap.

“Why don’t you come in?” Jeonghan waves his hand and behind him a sofa materializes. “There is a long discussion we must be having right now.”

The man looks hesitant. Jeonghan looks at the watch on his wrist.

“Come now, before you wake up from your dream.” Jeonghan urges.

The man hesitates once more. After several seconds, he finally enters the threshold, not realizing the discussion is already over and the deal has already been made. This is what gets them in the end.

“Ah,” Jeonghan smiles as he leads the other to the sofa. The nothingness becomes alight with a soft yellow light and the marble around him turns into white. “I really have been waiting a long time for you, Lee Seokmin.”

Chapter Text

“Honestly, Seokmin!” A familiar voice angrily says out loud. “Do you even want to debut?”

Jihoon opens his eyes to a familiar place. It’s the old practice room, back then when they weren’t rich nor did the company have any kind of faith and hope placed upon them. It was… a tiring time, so much so that he doesn’t want anything to do it with it anymore.

“Oh, this one huh?” The ghost beside him clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Why aren’t you watching?”

“I lived through it.” Jihoon replies dryly. “Everyone got scolded by this trainer at one point or another.”

Before DK can say anything to this, the trainer continues his scolding of the younger Seokmin. Jihoon watches all that he can. How the younger vocalist, looks down at the floor, almost trembling in sadness. His grip on the sides of his pants tightens and he’s all tensed up, trying to make his self smaller as if that’ll make the trainer stop his verbal abuse. His eyes can’t be seen but if Jihoon knows anything about the other boy, he knows he’s almost crying.

There is no one here that can help Seokmin. No one here is his friend, and the people that are didn’t come today.

“Are you sure you want to be an idol?” The trainer continues his verbal assault. “With that voice? That visuals?”

Seokmin continues to tremble, not wanting to look up.

“If I were you, I’d save your parents all the hassle.” He continues, sighing. “Just quit and--”

“Yeah! He gets it already!” Suddenly, a voice cuts in. A familiar voice that greatly surprises Jihoon. After all, it’s his own voice. “He gets that you hate him!”

Seokmin and the trainer whip their head to look at the younger Jihoon. Seokmin looks surprised and the trainer looks livid out of his mind.

“And who are you to question how I--”

“No one. Someone just really interested in finding out if Pledis pays you to waste our time or pays you to actually train us.” The younger Jihoon taps his foot as he looks at the clock. “Are we done here? We all have a dance lesson ten minutes from now and you’re not even teaching us any vocal techniques anymore.”

The trainer looks angry beyond belief, but he can’t actually do anything realizing he’s lost here. He can’t do anything or else the dance trainer will poke around and find out why he’s keeping them for so long for no good reason.

“You’re all dismissed.” The trainer grits out.

The atmosphere doesn’t immediately loses all the tension, but it gives them a little room to breath.

The trainer is the first to leave the room, but one by one the other trainees leave as well. Some of them top besides Seokmin to check up on him or to pat his back, but no one stays enough to actually find out how he’s feeling, after all there’s a dance lesson to attend.

Seokmin stays though. He waits for the younger Lee Jihoon to finish gathering his stuff before he approaches him.

“Wait--” Seokmin calls out to the other when he starts leaving. The younger Jihoon stops and gives the other a look. Seokmin looks flustered, “I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh.” The younger Jihoon looks mildly surprised. He rubs the back of his head. “You don’t have to thank me really.”

“No, it’s!” Seokmin stutters out, “I’ll buy you a coffee later.”

“It’s okay. Save your money.” The younger Jihoon ruffles Seokmin’s hair. “I was just doing what we should’ve done in the first place. Now, let’s go? We’ll be late for dance.”

They both leave in silence, leaving DK and Jihoon in the practice room, alone.

“I… don’t understand.” Jihoon starts and looks at DK, confused. “Where did I go wrong?”

“You really don’t know?” DK asks, tired of this. “You’re really telling me you don’t know?”

“I don’t. I really don’t.” Jihoon tells him, looking lost.

DK sighs and their surroundings fade away. “Watch this.”

Everything slowly turns into Jihoon’s old studio, the one they rented out before he got his own. It still looks as small and cheap as ever. Outside of the booth, Seokmin and the younger Jihoon are there, talking as they eat together.

Jihoon remembers this. It’s one of their pre-debut conversations. Just hanging around in the studio, messing around together--something Jihoon used to cherish a lot before they lost the time to do this when they finally debuted. He misses it.

“What do you look for in a voice?” Seokmin asks suddenly and out of the blue. He’s still chewing on his meal, but he looks so curious.

“Where did this come from all of a sudden?” The younger Jihoon replies, amused. He’s done with his meal, just drinking his cola.

“Just answer!” Seokmin laughs. “I’m curious.”

“Hm, let’s see…” The younger Jihoon begins to think aloud. “Maybe the perfect voice? A voice that makes me want to work hard! Something like that maybe?”

“What’s up with that! That’s so vague.” Seokmin laughs again, clapping his hands together. “That sounds so impossible!”

“I don’t think it is.”

The younger Jihoon cuts through the fun atmosphere and turns it cold with one sentence. DK and Jihoon flinch the same time Seokmin looks at the younger Jihoon.

“No, don’t say that.” Jihoon mutters, realizing this was their last booth conversation.

“I don’t think it is, y’know.” The younger

Jihoon continues. “I don’t think it’s impossible to look for someone that wants to work hard.” Jihoon knows what he means by this. But back then, he didn’t hear the implication of his words. The unsaid are you lazy? the farthest thing away from Seokmin.

“Aha!” Seokmin laughs, but his expression is strained. The younger Jihoon shrugs and returns to his work, not seeing the tense look on the other’s face.

“Yeah.” He replies instead.

And Seokmin looks so lost and small, the expression on his face much more devastating than the look he had when being scolded by the trainer. He excuses himself to go to the comfort room, and Jihoon already knows he’s going to cry, to hide away for a moment.

When it clicks, Jihoon is taken by the darkness.

Chapter Text

Jeonghan’s domain looks… different. This is how Jihoon figures out that this isn’t like the other times they met. That this is the final thing he has to overcome before reuniting with Seokmin once again.

It’s scary. So damn scary. Jeonghan looks as delighted and amused as ever. He looks tangible too, now looking much more like the real Jeonghan that Jihoon knew. He doesn’t look like a dream, rather something corporeal. Like if Jihoon wanted he can go punch him right now or something.

But he doesn’t. Jeonghan may be an asshole but Jihoon knows that the other can so easily take everything away from him. After all, he already did.

“Well done!” Jeonghan applauds him the moment he gets his bearings. “You figured out the first two clues, haven’t you?”

“I didn’t know.” Jihoon replies in lieu of an answer. “I thought he’d tell me all the times I hurt him... I didn’t know!”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrow to a dangerous glint. His mouth turns upward into a terrifying smile. He looks like he’s enjoying all of this. Enjoying all the pain this journey has brought the two of them.

“You thought he’d tell you?” Jeonghan sounds disbelieving. He waves a hand and a throne appears before him. He takes a sit down, one of his legs over the other, and relaxes. He’s a being in his own domain. “You really thought he’d tell you?”

“I thought he’d tell me.” Jihoon answers softly. “I mean, that’s what relationships are for, right? Telling each other their problems and working towards them to fix--”

“Pray do tell, did you tell him about this?” Jeonghan waves his hand again.

Jihoon knows he hasn’t left Jeonghan’s domain but in his eyes flashes a memory. A familiar memory of Jihoon alone in his studio, the table and couch turned upside down in anger. On the floor are pieces of paper with discarded lyrics. Jihoon looks so tired, so livid, but most importantly as if he’s cried for three days nonstop.

“That’s different.” Jihoon replies in a small voice. Jeonghan clicks his tongue.

Another memory comes to mind, the recording booth. Jihoon isn’t anywhere to be found but Seokmin is there, singing his lungs out. It looks as if he’s been there for hours without taking a break. His skin is sweaty, his face and eyes are both red but still he persists.

“The perfect voice.” Seokmin mutters to himself, “I have to get to that level.”

“Is this different too?” Jeonghan asks, amusement evident in his voice. “Tell me, Jihoon, are you satisfied? ”

Another memory begins. This time, Jihoon alone in his own room. His hands grasping a photograph as he trembles more and more. The beginning of their long career, when there was no time to visit home and all Jihoon wanted was exactly that. The other boys were like his family, yes, that’s true but it doesn’t change the fact that they are so young--still so young. On Jihoon’s shoulders rests twelve other men’s life, all dependent on the songs he produces. One mistake, one misstep and it all comes crumbling down with only him bearing the weight of all of it. He is atlas, he is atlas carrying the world and he is so tired.

“You are a narcissistic man, aren’t you Lee Jihoon?” Jeonghan’s smile cuts through the memory as it all fades away, leaving Jihoon on his knees in the domain. “A selfish, narcissist who only sees himself.”

“Stop.” Jihoon weakly answers.

“Ah, but you thought Seokmin would come to you! The same way he thought you’d come to him!” Jeonghan cackles like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in years. “And there are other dimensions where that happens, other dimensions where you eat the fruit of love happily but this isn’t this dimension. In this, you are consumed by your apathy, by your--”

“Stop!” Jihoon stands up, his face streaked with tears. “Stop it already, you’ve made your point!”

Jeonghan, surprised, regards Jihoon for a few moments. DK is in the corner, tears also streaming down from his face as he tries so hard to cover his ears and not listen to the conversation happening. 

“I didn’t think you’d have it in you.” Jeonghan says. “But fine, I will stop. Only if you tell me what you are to do, if you’ll still continue with all of this.”

“I’ll still continue.” Jihoon chokes out. “Even if he hates me.”

“Oh, but Seokmin can never hate you.” Jeonghan answers back, his eyes turning to the ghost beside him. “Isn’t that right?”

But DK doesn’t answer, rather he can’t answer, being silenced by his own tears as he whimpers into a ball. Hiding himself from the world. If only he was a real invisible ghost, only then can he hide from everything.

Jihoon’s heart goes for him. Even if he isn’t the Seokmin he’s known, he still is Seokmin. Someone wearing the face of someone he’s loved.

“Ahaha!” Jeonghan giggles, clasping his hands together. “This is far too much fun!”

“We get it!” Jihoon rubs his tears away, “You’re a fucking monster! Now what’s the next memory I have to jump into to find him?”

The sooner he finishes it, the better. He can’t wait to do everything right to the man he loves. The apologies he’ll utter, the kisses he’ll give, the thousands of sweet words he’ll whisper in his ear, assuring him that he loves him, that everything is alright.

“Mm.” Jeonghan tilts his head. “I think that’s enough memories for today.”

“What!?”

“Calm down, Lee Jihoon.” Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “I’m not breaking our deal. That’ll be too boring. I’ll just give you a little test.”

“A test?” Jihoon repeats, “Isn’t this whole thing a test?”

“A different one.” Jeonghan answers happily. “Why don’t you use the things you saw and take a gander on this test. I’ll give him back to you if you answer correctly! It’s just one question, I swear!”

Jeonghan makes a cross motion across his heart, looking far too smug. Almost as if he thinks Jihoon will fail this test.

“Fine.” Jihoon spits out rather angrily. “What’s the question?”

“Hm,” Jeonghan’s fingers go up to his own lips as he pretends to think of a question. His expression brightens and he brings a fist down to his palm when he finally does so. “Ah! I know!”

He tilts his head happily and points to DK, still on the floor, still curled up to a ball and still crying.

“When did DK be replaced by your Seokmin? Before memory one or after?” Jeonghan asks, before laughing madly. “Isn’t that really easy to answer?”

Chapter Text

Jeonghan’s revelation comes so out of left field that Jihoon almost doesn’t process it. It takes him a few minutes of silence, Jeonghan still smiling and DK-- Seokmin still curled up into a ball, before he can make sense of it.

“ What? ” He finally manages to choke out. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, Jihoon. I know you’re not deaf!” Jeonghan hums out, almost swaying. He then turns his attention to Seokmin. “Why don’t you tell him?”

“That can’t be Seokmin.” Jihoon protests. “That can’t be Seokmin, this is one of your tests again. isn’t it?”

“Yeah. That’s the whole point of this whole thing!” Jeonghan raises his hands in the hair, “Thanks for keeping up!”

“No, no, no. You don’t understand.” Jihoon exclaims, “This isn’t Seokmin. You’re lying to me.”

“I don’t lie in my games, Jihoon.” Jeonghan frowns, almost pouting. He brings his hands to his face in faux indignation. “That’s boring! I’m not a second rate game master.”

Jihoon turns his back from the eldritch being. He spares a look at Seokmin, now sitting and looking at the both of them with a dazed expression like he truly doesn’t care anymore. This is his Seokmin? The man he’s endured this wretched journey for? Somewhere along the way, the fake one left and he came back?

“Why?” Jihoon can’t help but ask. His legs feel like jelly and he just wants to go home at this point.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Jeonghan says and while Jihoon can’t see the other anymore, he can still certainly hear the grin in that one sentence.

This being wearing Yoon Jeonghan’s face is a monster.

“Seokmin?” Jihoon tries out, approaching the other slowly. He sits down next to him, going near him carefully like he doesn’t want to suddenly surprise a deer in a forest.

Seokmin slowly raises his face up to look at Jihoon. His eyes are red and his cheeks are streaked with tears. Everything about him is wrecked with sadness, his frame trembling. Despite it all, Jihoon thinks he looks like a vision sent by god. (despite it all, maybe there are truths in what jeonghan said).

“Did you see…?” Jihoon asks, referring to the memories earlier. Things that he didn’t want the other to see, his sadness is his own burden--his problems his own things to deal with.

Seokmin nods as a reply. 

The conversation stops. Seokmin doesn’t offer up other kinds of information. Specifically information that can help him figure out Jeonghan’s final question so that they can both get out of there. 

A second passes, and then another. Jihoon wants so badly to ask something but he doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t even know where to start. When did you be mine? When did you start seeing the worst parts of me? When When When?

“Why?” Is what he says instead. Jihoon winces inwardly as he realizes this might be the wrong question.

“Why? He asks.” Seokmin laughs. He meets Jihoon's eyes. The shadows underneath his eyes are deeper and darker than any other pre-comeback nights. His cheeks are gaunt and his skin is sickly pale. “Let me ask this question, do you know me? ”

“What are you saying? Of course I know you!” Jihoon replies, feeling confused. “You’re Lee Seokmin, Seventeen’s main vocal, energizer, sunshine etcetc.-- my boyfriend. ”

That sounds so… juvenile. It doesn’t feel right. It really doesn’t feel right. Calling the other as boyfriend doesn’t sound right when he’s… He’s everything. He’s the reason he’s even doing this, right?

Seokmin scoffs and brings his legs up to his chest, embracing them. He averts his eyes from the other, looking at the marble flooring. “Is that it?”

“What?”

“Is that the only thing you see me as?” Seokmin asks, looking at him again. He looks disappointed and frustrated at the same time. “Is that it, Lee Jihoon?”

“I don’t--” Jihoon stutters out, “I don’t understand.”

“Jihoon, I’m tired of finding the meaning of my existence from other people.” Seokmin forces out a bitter laugh. “Did you even figure out what my wish was?”

“No, I didn’t.” Jihoon admits, “I just… I want you back.”

“And you didn’t think to ask what I wanted? You can go make a fool of yourself trying to convince people you’re not crazy for thinking I existed but you couldn’t stop and think through this rationally? You can go threaten a being like Jeonghan but can’t stop to consider I wanted this?” Seokmin asks, almost disbelieving. “Jihoon... I don’t know what to say.”

Jihoon feels a deep shame wash over him. The other man was exactly right. He’s undergoing this whole thing, wanting to get his Seokmin back and he didn’t even stop to think of the logistics of it.  He must’ve done something that warranted Seokmin literally wishing himself away. Literally leaving a ghost behind for Jihoon to cope with. Jihoon reacted by throwing himself into danger, all just to get back a man that might not even want him back.

“I’m sorry.” Jihoon apologized. 

“It’s too late, y’know?” Seokmin shoots him a flashy sarcastic smile. “The ghost is gone, I don’t get to see you anymore. It’s over.”

“It’s not.” Jihoon starts, quickly standing up in indignation. “It doesn't have to be over! Why are you so adamant on saying it’s over?”

Seokmin looks at him with a steely gaze. 

“Jeonghan might’ve promised you me back if you’re able to answer his question,” Seokmin replies, “but I can’t go back if you don’t know why I did this. Why I wanted to do this.”

Jihoon’s mind is spinning and it hurts. His mind goes to the beginning of this story. The morning he woke up without Seokmin in the world. The afternoon he found those polaroids hidden deeply underneath his bed. The night Jeonghan almost killed him and began this whole search for Seokmin. Bad memory after bad memory. What he thought of as a stable and healthy relationship slowly unravelled, the cracks being even more prominent, until the facade breaks and what is left is something muddy. Something Jihoon doesn’t recognize at all.

Is this even healthy anymore?

“Jihoon,” Seokmin starts softly as if talking to a small child. “Why did I leave?”

And Jihoon has known the answer since the first memory. He’s known but he’s closed his eyes from it like a child would. But he isn’t a child anymore. He’s in his mid-twenties and life means facing these troubles head-on. Not turning a blind eye to things he used to pretend didn’t happen. After all, didn’t he have an inkling of what his dad thought of him? Didn’t Jihoon notice the puffiness of Seokmin’s eyes after each trip to the bathroom?

Wasn’t Jihoon just playing stupid the whole time?

(“I’ll be there for you, never growing old. Always a step behind you, always following you. I’ll never leave you.”

He has never been anything but truthful to him.)

“You wanted it to be over.” Jihoon whispers. “You wanted everything to be over but you couldn’t bear it to be over. The next best thing was this.”

Seokmin laughs instead of replying.

“You’ve been him since the beginning, weren’t you?” Jihoon asks but he knows the answer, there’s no use in asking it when he knows the answer but he still does like the fool that he is. “There was no DK, only you. You were him all this time.”

“It was funny,” Seokmin replies. “Watching you convince yourself I’m not myself all because you couldn’t hold my hand. And then it was sad.”

Seokmin stares at Jihoon who’s speechless and can’t possibly think of making any kinds of moves. “How does it feel? Knowing I didn’t really exist? That the version you knew wasn’t really me? ”

“Don’t say that.” Jihoon shakily says, but it’s clear even he doesn’t believe what he’s saying. “You’re still Seokmin.”

“Don't make me laugh even more Jihoon! You’re not a comedian.” Seokmin’s mouth twists up to a mockery of a smile. “You saw it. You saw me twisting every side of me so that you’ll like me. The sunny Seokmin you loved? I don’t know if he exists.” He looks down at his own trembling hands. “Existing as a ghost was easier.”

Silence descends on the both of them. It feels like it’s just the two of them in this little void of the universe, like Jeonghan isn’t in the corner watching the scene unfold with manic glee.

“Can you just leave?” Seokmin whispers. “I know how hard it is to be with someone like me.”

Jihoon’s heart breaks. It breaks so loudly that he’s scared everyone heard it. 

“I’m tired.” Jihoon utters out.

Jeonghan told him over and over again how much of a selfish narcissist he is. Isn’t this the right time to prove him wrong? To prove he cares about someone so much that he’s able to follow what they actually want?

He turns around and leaves.