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The seven of them were sitting in the van, headed home after a long day at the fansign. The group was exhausted, and they were just aching to get some rest soon in the comfort of their own homes. The trip is long, so Youngjae finds himself leaning on Jaebeom's shoulder and giving in to the weight of his heavy eyelids. He dozes off, and Jaebeom catches the vague reflection of Youngjae's sleeping face on the car window. It was nighttime so he could hardly see it in the dimness inside the car-- the only light coming from the neon figures on the dashboard. But when the vehicle passes by street lamps and buildings from outside, the reflection becomes a little clearer. He sees blue reflected against the overlay of city lights.
Youngjae's hair is blue now, and Jaebeom thinks it's fitting. As he tries to recall the other colors it's ever been-- mostly various shades of brown, black, and blonde, Jaebeom realizes that he's known Youngjae for a long time now. Five years, was it? Or maybe it was a little longer than that. Sometimes, he feels like he's known Youngjae forever. When Youngjae tells him about his childhood in Mokpo, he can't help but imagine as if he was there with the younger boy. They weren't childhood friends, but somehow, it feels that way. He's seen Youngjae shine bright like the sun. He's also seen him blue.
Youngjae reminded Jaebeom of summer-- vivid and warm. Jaebeom was never one to easily make friends, but he eventually found his cold self warming up to the other boy. If it weren't for them rooming together, he thinks they would have never gotten this close. When he recalls the feeling of his skin against the bedsheets, his arms wrapping around Youngjae's gentle frame in the darkness of their old, cramped room, he misses it. He recalls how they would talk in bed until dawn, until one of them eventually gives in to slumber. He remembers how they would sometimes tickle each other in an attempt to wake the other up in the morning. These days, when he remembers those memories from years ago as he stares up at the ceiling of his bedroom waiting for sleep to come, there's a lingering emptiness. Not even the sheets could fill in Youngjae's warmth when he was there lying beside him.
Youngjae smiled and laughed a lot, joked around pretty often. He had a voice that could light up an entire room and eyes that sparkled with wonder. Jaebeom remembers how Youngjae used to be quieter-- a shy boy who hardly believed he had a voice, didn't even think he could make it as a musician. Sometimes, Jaebeom wonders how that could be when he's pretty sure Youngjae has one of the sweetest voices he's ever heard. And whenever he would play the piano, Jaebeom likes how Youngjae would get shy all of a sudden even as he played perfectly-- his gentle fingers dancing on the keys gracefully.
But Youngjae was more than that. He was much more than the vividness and warmth of summer. Behind all of those smiles, he was harboring something dark-- he was human, after all. Youngjae hates to admit it, but he can't help but feel a deep-seated insecurity eating up at him sometimes. He just wants to be good enough. But what and when is enough, really? He keeps taking vocal lessons and works hard to keep himself in shape because he has to retain an image. He pretends to brush it off when people point out how plump he's gotten and when they say something like maybe you should stop eating too much, but honestly, it makes him feel ugly and guilty because he knows that keeping a certain appearance is part of the job. He's also trying his hand more at composing and writing songs, but the company doesn't seem to trust in his skills all that much yet. While all the other members had their schedules full, he was just here. What was he even supposed to be doing? He hates the idleness-- the deafening silence that tells him he’s not enough, so he tries to keep himself busy. He takes what he can get for now. He tells himself that he's gotten better, he's gotten far already considering that he used to be that trainee who had gotten scolded and told that the group wouldn't debut because of his shortcomings. There are times he looks back on the memory fondly, thinking that he would never have gotten better if not for that scolding. But sometimes, there's a recurring voice telling him he's never going to be enough, that he deserved that scolding, and that he has to be harsh on himself-- because if not, he's going to be a drag to the rest of the group. He hates that feeling and he hates how he feels like an even bigger burden when he tries to confide in anyone else about it. That's why he learned to keep things to himself. Youngjae tries to convince himself that he's fine like this.
But Jaebeom sees through it. The summer wasn't all vividness and warmth, after all. There was the ocean-- deep, cold, and blue. Sometimes, it could even get violent with the waves crashing down on the shore, rocking ships sailing on its turbulent waters. Youngjae wasn't all sunshine. Youngjae was blue. He's cried tears of blue. Jaebeom knew this because more than anyone else in the group, Youngjae was probably closest to him. They both shared the same unrelenting passion for composing music, and Jaebeom could somehow relate to Youngjae's frustration about appealing to the company's standards when it comes to producing songs of their own. Jaebeom liked to think that he sees himself in Youngjae despite their seemingly opposing personas-- as if Youngjae was the sun and he was the moon. They were like-- what-- two sides of the same coin? Two phases of the same single day? Something like that. As much as he likes to say that they were just really close friends, often, when he reminisces the times they've been together and reflects on the way they behave around each other, it seems to him that really close friends doesn't cut it. It feels more than that. It feels more intimate. Something about the sight of the other members jokingly teasing and flirting with the younger boy doesn't sit well with him. Was it normal to feel that way about a really close friend? Jaebeom wonders. He'd like to think he knows Youngjae in a more special way-- better than most people ever would. He takes lots of pictures of Youngjae that no one else besides the two of them have ever seen, and he likes to keep it that way. It's like a precious secret between the two of them-- little treasures that only lovers in the dark know of.
Jaebeom knows him better because he's seen Youngjae blue-- because he's gone into the depths of the waters. Did he dive in? Or did he just find himself falling? Jaebeom isn't so sure, but he's at least certain that the water feels pleasant to him. It feels like an embrace to Jaebeom. It feels like Youngjae welcoming him into his arms despite how much the younger boy tried to keep the tears, and the thoughts and feelings of insecurity to himself. Whenever he manages to get Youngjae to confide in him, to let the other cry against his shoulder, Jaebeom learns that the waters aren't always ominously deep and violent. They could also be vast and welcoming.
When he looks into Youngjae's eyes, he sees something more than the sparkle of wonder. Instead, he sees an ocean in those waters-- deep, cold, and blue. Human. The way he's reflected on Youngjae's eyes reminds him that they're not so different from each other-- him, the moon and Youngjae, the sun. They're closer than they think. More intimate than they let themselves catch on.
Youngjae's hair is blue now, and Jaebeom thinks it's fitting. He always thought Youngjae was cute anyway no matter the color of his hair, but the blue intrigued him. Youngjae felt like summer-- a blue summer. Meanwhile, Jaebeom likes the feeling of the sun kissing his skin and the ocean blue waters embracing him.
Jaebeom soon leans his head on Youngjae's and sinks into the depths of slumber. There's images in his head. It's him and Youngjae from years ago-- both lying down on the bed they used to share, facing each other. Jaebeom finds himself staring at the other's lips, and Youngjae notices it. Youngjae moves closer, nodding slightly as he closes his eyes. For a moment, Jaebeom tastes blue on his lips, and feels red on his cheeks. It was a short, curious kiss, and right after they realize what had just happened, they stare at each other shyly, and make a silent promise to never speak of it again-- the kiss now just a precious secret between lovers, locked away in the dark. They both soon fall asleep, Jaebeom clinging to the other closely as always.
Jaebeom suddenly jolts awake, fingers tracing curiously on his lips, not knowing what to make of those images and the odd sense of familiarity they evoked. Was it just a dream or was it a memory?