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five, six, seven, eight.
jacob has a love-hate relationship with those words. he's convinced that he'll never stop hearing those words until the day that he dies. he complains to sangyeon that they'll probably be the last words he hears before dying (sangyeon tells him to stop being dramatic). in canada, those four words would never have been significant, but now they carried a myriad of emotions.
the first time jacob heard those words in korea was when he accidentally caught kevin trying to borrow his guitar without telling him. he had only known him for about a week, had barely shared the same dorm room with him for three days.
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kevin was rummaging through their bags to try and get to the walnut brown (and mildly beat up) guitar case, when jacob had opened the door to their room. jacob cleared his throat.
"o-oh hey! uh-" kevin pauses, guitar case in hand.
"what exactly are you doing with my guitar kevin?" jacob asks, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "i thought you didn't play guitar?" kevin stares back at him, mouth agape and about to say something when sangyeon walks past the open door.
"he wanted to borrow it to learn how but was too scared to ask you." jacob turns to sangyeon, and then back to kevin, who just quickly nods.
"oh okay, yeah sure!" he grins. confusion stuck to kevin's face now, who was so sure that jacob would've reacted angrily. "have fun with it!" he says, walking out of the room.
an hour later, jacob hears kevin's voice calling for him from down the hallway. he gets up with his bowl of cocoa puffs and walks over to their room.
"did you break my guitar or something?" he says, as he pokes his head around the corner.
"no, but i learned a song. wanna hear it?" jacob nods, walking over and sitting beside him on the temporary air mattress.
kevin starts with a "five, six, seven, eight" and begins to play familiar chords and sings. jacob knows the tune well, so well that he grins at kevin after he plays four bars and kevin catches it out of the corner of his eye. after half of the first verse, jacob joins in.
you can count on me like 1, 2, 3
i'll be there
and i know when i need it
i can count on you like 4, 3, 2
and you'll be there
cause that's what friends are supposed to do
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the last time jacob heard "five, six, seven, eight" was unfortunately just now. he thinks that perhaps it was the ugliest iteration of those words he could have ever heard. sure, he was covered in sweat, breathing heavily from practicing the same choreography over and over, but right now, he knows deep in his heart that he hates those four words, four numbers, four damned counts.
he stares at himself in the mirror. he knows why he needs to work hard, knows why he's practicing with the choreographer, by himself, while the others are probably off doing something else. he didn't always struggle with nailing dance moves, per se, but this new choreography was tougher than everyone had expected, and he had fallen behind.
jacob also thinks, no, also knows, all too well, that he doesn't have changmin's charm on stage, doesn't have juyeon's fluidity and grace, doesn't have hyunjoon's charisma. that's why he needs to work harder, needs to work even harder than ever before.
he exhales, willing himself to go through the routine one more time. once again, those four numbers echo from the practice room.
how ironic, he thinks, that maybe if the harsh five, six, seven, eight could forever be replaced with kevin's soft whispering from what seemed like forever ago, he could find it in himself to love those words again.
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"hey jacob?" kevin opens the door timidly, checking to see if jacob is in the room. while he hears no response, he sees the other boy sat on the floor, leaning against his bed, facing the wall. jacob doesn't look at him, so he quietly shuffles into the room and gently closes the door behind him. he sits next to him, and they sit in silence for a few minutes.
"kevin. why do i have to be so horribly bad at dancing?" jacob quietly asks, still staring at the wall. kevin blinks, thinking through his answer. while he wants to say that he's not, he knows that jacob won't listen to him if he does. so he asks another question instead.
"and whose standards are you holding yourself up to?"
"why does that matter? i just suck at it. there's no use." jacob bites back. he feels tears of frustration welling up in his eyes, but he tells himself he's not going to cry, he's not going to-
kevin gently holds his hand, lacing their fingers together, and jacob breaks. he leans forward and pulls his legs closer to him, crying. kevin gets up and shifts to sit in front of him, holding both of his hands now and waits.
"it's just... why am i not improving? why am i not fast enough? everyone else has been doing fine with the choreography, why am i the only one having trouble? why? even when i'm working so hard, nothing changes! why-"
"jacob." kevin's voice cuts through, endearingly quiet but firm. "breathe." jacob looks up, blinking, but does as he's told.
inhale, exhale.
kevin continues, "just because you're not improving right now doesn't mean that you're never going to improve, right?" jacob pauses before nodding slowly, sniffling. "you will get there, it just takes time. you've been doing well, and you'll get even better, right?"
jacob musters a small smile.
"i guess you're right."
kevin smiles back. an idea dawns on him, and he grins a bit wider. jacob looks at him in slight confusion but kevin begins anyway.
five, six, seven, eight
you'll always have my shoulder when you cry
i'll never let go never say goodbye
you can count on me like 1, 2, 3
i'll be there
jacob grins, and begins to giggle. kevin's quiet singing embraces him and he finally, finally relaxes.
"you're so cheesy, kevin."