Chapter Text
The sun sets with Sungjin reaching out for his guitar and slinging the strap over his shoulder. He watches the rest of his band set up alongside him— watches the neon pink sun dip into the horizon of rooftops. As the rough edges of the city soften in the moments the sunset blends into the summer night, the roof deck seems to transform where the light is warped by the endless string of fairy lights giving the floor and the stage a warm honey glow. With the reassuring weight of his guitar against him, he breathes in the few seconds of silence before the sound. Then he sees her and falls apart.
Sungjin has read somewhere that you can only hold a smile for so long. After that, it’s just teeth. But not until this moment, standing on the wooden platform and holding onto his white Gibson Les Paul like a lifeline, has he given the phrase any thought. The fact that he remembers at all gives him pause. As far as he can tell, he has had no discernible reason to keep such words bookmarked, yet here they are in striking clarity. As if the universe has known all along that one day these words will return to mock him. He’s just another punchline in the joke called Life.
Begrudgingly, he concedes.
Universe: 1
Park Sungjin: 0
Of all habits, Nayeon has to be the hardest to break. He sees her even in his stageblindness, finds her lithe form in the crowd, sees that she’s not alone, sees her arm curled around someone else’s elbow. Of course, she’s moved on. It’s been so long, half a year and counting it’s only right. But the look on her face is a mixture of guilt and shock. Neither of them should even be so surprised, Nayeon less so. She called him the weekend before to, in her words, check in on him. It’s been a while , she said, I’ll see you at the party. You guys are playing, right? Let’s catch up?
How could he possibly say no to that?
Even if he wanted to, he can’t. It’s Sunye’s wedding rehearsal dinner party and they’re all invited. All of them in their extended group of friends and secondhand friends, a mix of university and work seniors and juniors. Everyone will be there. People he hasn’t seen in years will be there. And Sungjin wants to go. Even if Sunye hadn’t asked him to bring his band along to play for the night, he still would have. Why prolong the inevitable? Eventually he’ll have to come face to face with Nayeon anyway.
To anyone peripherally aware, the breakup came amicably. Ask anyone in their extended circle of friends and they would say Sungjin and Nayeon, the no-fuss no-drama childhood sweethearts, have simply fallen out of love. They’ve simply gone from friends, to lovers, and friends again. Life caught up with them and they’ve become different people, but no love is lost between them. Impossible, you say? Exes can’t be friends. Not for Sungjin and Nayeon. If anyone can make it work, it would be those two , they said. At the time, it had been true. But even the truth has two sides, and Sungjin is still picking up the pieces of his broken heart, still unlearning habits he’s developed through the years, experiencing everything for the first time all over again, battling the loneliness that goes with being alone. But his heart is no longer Nayeon’s concern, so even though he’s bleeding heartache onstage, Sungjin takes a moment and breathes.
He slides a foot back, shifts his weight forward so he’s crouching into the mic, and paints a serene smile on his face.
Dowoon bangs his drumsticks together and it’s all Sungjin needs to pay attention to. His hands know their way around the body of his guitar and the familiar thrum of steel fills him. There is only the music— the metallic shredding of Jae’s Stratocaster, the deep pulsing of Brian’s bass, the hypnotic trance of Wonpil’s synths, and the crashing of Dowoon’s drums. Sungjin is in every part of this moment. He is both the crest and trough of this soundwave, both the rhythm and the release. Singer and song. His raspy voice pours out yearning and longing as his fingers press hard into the chords. No more thinking, only feeling. All five of them, individual sounds perfectly aligned to time. On nights like these, when they are playing for friends, they can completely let loose.
This is when they are at their best, when they’re free to be themselves in the intimacy of a raving moshpit. Brian is always the first to let go. Sungjin thinks Brian always forgets he’s a bassist, plays instead like a lead guitarist. Though to be fair, until Jae arrived Brian had been on lead guitar and center. Jae doubles as a hype-man, takes his role seriously, it’s a term Sungjin doesn’t understand ( Bro, when are you getting to this decade? Jae asks) but is grateful for. But Jae’s only good for one task at a time, and when he’s focused on his lyrics or a riff, that’s all Jae knows to do. But that’s all Sungjin expects him to do. Wonpil is in a little world of his own within the confines of his double-layer synthesizers, MIDI controllers, and laptop.
They’re at the third minute of this song and Brian takes the chorus a step higher than they practice, sings like there’s something inside him that’s clamoring to get out. Jae has closed in on himself, he’s facing Dowoon now, Strat to his knees and his fingers making mad love to the strings. Wonpil finds a space for a synth solo, takes it and does not apologize for it. Dowoon is the only one Sungjin can count on to keep his cool. Dowoon is the clockwork. The only one of them too focused on keeping time, the solid backbone to which they build notes and sequences upon.
Sungjin tries to keep up, tries to ignore the fragments of Nayeon embedded in every word and sequence he’s contributed to their songs. The turns of phrase may distort the memory of when she was his, but the words flood his senses, the music leaves him defenseless and singing the words out loud now, Sungjin searches his mind for answers, for some kind of sign that teaches him how to forget, how to let go of the memories from when they were together.
What Sungjin learns about letting go is this: if he keeps the memories in his periphery while he walks away, it’s at that moment when the hurt is all but a tiny speck in the horizon does it come back to wrap its arms around him and pull him under.
Sungjin is drowning, and he can’t see the light above the water to lead him home.
Fortunately, there’s Brian and Dowoon who guide the careening to a controlled collapse. The crowd sends them a burst of applause and cheers for more, but the set is over for the night and there is obligatory mingling to be done. Sungjin reluctantly sets his guitar back to its stand, wordlessly directs a cleanup, and mentally cues his bandmates to move faster— talk less, pack up more— before they lose each other in the party.
Sungjin glances at the crowd— everyone else is laughing and talking and eating and drinking— spots both familiar and strange faces. Then his eyes, still used to searching for Nayeon, find her. Just Nayeon. Alone, for the moment. She smiles at him, and knowing that this will be one of the the rare times they will see her in this way, Sungjin smiles back. He can tell, just by the look on her face, that she’s about to come over and say hello. All at once he feels a sense of limbo. It’s not as if he wants to get back together with her. He’s accepted the fact that they are over. But she’s moved on and he’s still a work in progress. That thought stabs him.
So Sungjin, steadfast leader of the band, steps back in line with Jae and keeps his eyes pointedly away from Nayeon. As he packs his guitar into its case, he surveys the deck again, identifying as many people as he can, to find a pocket he can safely station himself in. When they come together like this, it’s always chaos masquerading as order. Jackson is at the center of one thing, Bambam at the center of another. The girls have closed off one side of the roof just for presents and are fawning of the bride-to-be. Next to the fire escape, Wooyoung is flanked by Minjun and Ayeon, and Sungjin decides that’s where he wants to park himself for the duration of the evening.
Someone is suddenly screaming their arrival— unsurprisingly, Jimin— who’s just arrived with someone hidden behind a big white box. Probably cake, it’s almost always a cake in these fancy white boxes. Sungjin notices, of all things, the peach head of hair peeking from above the edge of the box and the distressed denims and scuffed boots beneath. Jaebum ambles over, helps put the box down, and the reveal offers a view of a flushed face and a playful smirk. Sungjin can’t tell if he’s met her before, if he’s supposed to recognize her face from somewhere, or if he’s completely out of it that he can’t remember if they have not been previously introduced.
Jae elbows Sungjin. Nayeon has crossed the room and is about four steps away from them.
Desperate, Sungjin mutters below his breath, “Try not to humiliate me this time. I’d like to get out of this with my sense of pride intact.”
Jae blinks in mock offense. “Bro, when have I ever done that?”
Sungjin doesn’t answer that, consciously wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand instead, because Nayeon is directly in front of him. The last time they were face to face like this, Nayeon was breaking up with him. It’s been a long time coming , she said. I know that you know we’re not as happy as we used to be anymore. Sungjin would have worked harder had she asked. But there was nothing more Sungjin could do, and holding on to her would only suffocate her so he let her go. She’d gone with the winter, and even now all Sungjin feels is the permafrost beneath his skin.
“Long time no see,” she says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes dart over his head, at Dowoon and Wonpil dismantling their instruments and at Brian hauling his guitar case over his shoulder.
Well what do you expect? Sungjin thinks. Out loud, he says, “It’s good to see you. It’s been a while. How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
Sungjin can feel Jae rolling his eyes at them. “Same. The usual.”
“You guys sound good. I like your new songs.”
“Thanks.” This is probably the best time to ask about the guy she’s with, but how does an ex-boyfriend approach the subject of his replacement?
Brian will say: you don’t . And Brian will be right. But Brian isn’t here now, is he? No, Brian is downstairs packing up the amps in their van. Thus, Brian’s wisdom does not apply if he’s not here to personally see it executed.
“So how come you never told us you’re going out with JB now? When did that happen?”
Way to keep it cool, Jae. Sungjin wonders now what the universe has against him, regrets now what he had just been thinking about Brian. Why couldn’t he have been stuck with Brian? Even Wonpil or Dowoon is a better alternative to this.
Nayeon hesitates. “It’s a...fairly new development.”
“Like how new?” Jae has no filter, and it is both an asset and a liability.
“Like a couple of weeks new.” Even if she wanted to, Nayeon can’t hide the smile blooming on her face. Sungjin loved that about her. Loved . In the past tense now. Just like every memory he has of her. Her eyes flit up, and a split second of worry flashes on her face.
Sungjin musters the energy to keep the smile on his face natural-looking. “That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. Good for you.”
He means it, he thinks. He means it enough to say it and not be lying.
“That is awesome.” Jae punctuates his statement with a hand landing in a thump on Sungjin’s shoulder. “That is awesome because how awkward would it be, right? If, like, you were still single after all this time. That would be pathetic.”
Nayeon nods, her bunny teeth coming out to gnaw at her bottom lip.
“Because Sungjin here.” Jae tightens his grip on Sungjin’s shoulder, gives it a good shake. “Sungjin, too, is dating someone. Have you not heard the news?”
Nayeon’s gaze flits between them. “You are?” she gasps, sounding relieved. Surprised, but at the same time absolved of her perceived transgression.
“I am.” It comes out sounding like a question from Sungjin’s mouth. Suffice it to say, he hasn’t gone on a date since the breakup, hasn’t even given it thought.
“You are,” Jae reiterates. “That’s what you’re doing. Don’t be shy now. It’s okay. Isn’t that right, Nayeon?”
“Of course. I’m glad you’re seeing someone.”
Every word in that sentence strikes Sungjin like an arrow. “Thanks,” he says through gritted teeth.
“You should have brought her with you,” Nayeon says, “I’d love to meet her.”
Sungjin clears his throat. “Yeah, no. She’s, that’s...Tonight is just not—”
“As luck would have it,” Jae interjects, “she’s here. Actually. Just arrived, like, two minutes ago. Ish .”
Sungjin is almost calm. At least he was until a vein pops somewhere on his nape. He relieves the tension by rolling his shoulders, but no amount of acting casual can make it look like he’s not trying too hard to look casual. There’s a part of him that really wants to walk away, grab a chair leg, and bash Jae’s head in, but he doesn’t know a lot of people and no one plays guitar like Jae plays guitar. Not even Brian. Briefly, he entertains the idea that maybe this band thing isn’t really for him but the devil on his shoulder— not Jae— scoffs he’s even opened that can of worms.
Jae’s opened something completely different. Sungjin’s own personal Pandora’s Box. Instead of hope being left behind as all the evils of the world escape, all that’s left for him is resignation.
“She is?” Nayeon pushes herself up on tiptoes and scans the party. “Do I know her? Where is she?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” Jae answers. His beady eyes go around the room like a radar, focuses finally on his target and raises his hand for a wave then points frantically at someone. “Found her.”
Sungjin follows Jae’s line of sight. Jimin waves back at Jae and points at Sungjin, and maybe Sungjin is imagining it but Jimin is mirroring the same diabolical expression on her face as his lead guitarist and that never bodes well for anyone within a hundred-meter radius. Especially not for him.
“Jimin?” Nayeon asks, confused.
“No,” Jae says in half a laugh. “No. The girl next to her. That’s her. That’s Sungjin’s girl.”
Sungjin shifts his gaze to Jimin’s side, at the peach-haired girl who meets his eyes from across the room. Awkwardly, she raises a hand and greets him. Sungjin returns the gesture, equally stiff.
Jae pushes him forward and Sungjin stumbles to a walk. “Go forth, my son. Retrieve your lady love.”
And now Sungjin has nowhere to go but forward because Jae pushed him, both physically and figuratively, and now he has to keep up with this ridiculous charade he wants no part of because Nayeon is watching, and from across the room Jimin and Jaebum are watching. Suddenly it feels like everyone is watching. So Sungjin comes up to this girl he doesn’t know, doesn’t notice he meets her halfway until they’re face to face and she says:
“I’m going to kiss you. Right now. Just go with it.”