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Seonghwa’s stare was so intense it took Hongjoong’s breath away, the sheer emotion sparkling in his eyes rivaled the night sky.
The wind blew around the pair that stood on the rough sand, the sound of ocean waves crashing together echoing behind the scene. Their faces were a blushing pink in the lighting, and their arms were locked around each other’s waist in a passionate embrace. It was a fairytale ending, a stunning wedding on a warm beach. Hongjoong gasped a little under his breath as Seonghwa slowly leaned in for the final climax, and he watched from the sidelines as the show’s main couple shared a deep kiss.
“Cut! That’s a wrap!”, the director called out, and immediately the large fans stopped blowing, and the sound of the ocean waves got cut off with the sharp press of a power button. Without the fake sunset light the warehouse around them looked a lot greyer, the cold white floodlights harsher than a couple hours ago. Seonghwa and Sejoon climbed out of the sand pit first, Seonghwa helping her hop off with a gentlemanly hand. Hongjoong got down with the swarm of supporting cast, San by his side and already chatting away about what type of noodles he would be having for dinner. They all gathered up around their director, and listened in to hear Yunho’s feedback and comments.
“So, cast, that’s it. The wind, the gaze, the passionate last kiss, you guys nailed all that so I don’t think I need to ask for a redo here, great job to Seonghwa and Sejoon. It’s been a pleasure working with you all, even if one of you did steal all the cream every morning- yes I’m looking at you Yeosang don’t look away- and I’m glad we could do this for the full 8 seasons. There’s really… not more to say I suppose, except I’ll see some of you tomorrow for tear down. Thank you for all the good times everyone.”
Yunho had always been sentimental, and sure enough even as he tried to finish out his speech there was a catch in his deep voice. Quickly the cast surrounded him, all 9 of them pulling in tight and creating a pool of warmth in the vast cold room. It had been 6 long years together after all, the group of them coming together to crank out episode after episode of wilder and more contrived plot lines every season. Each of them had played a hero and a villain, depending on who had the amnesia or a secret evil past that year. Most of them had been through it all, although San had come in part way in season 2 to add some new love interests, and Seonghwa only became the lead in season 3 after Jinyun left in a huff and he got rapidly promoted.
Hongjoong patted his own damp cheeks a little, overwhelmed by all the time he spent with each one of these people learning who they are. San and his clingy behavior and masculine charm, Yeosang and his quiet voice and sneaky hands, even Sejoon and her small smiles and competitive nature, and the rest as well- they all had grown so much on him. It wasn’t just the cast either, it was their director who was loud but always sweet, and Hongjoong’s make-up artist Wooyoung who always chatted the whole hour away. It was even Jongho the lighting technician who lifted a floodlight with one hand, and Mingi the sound tech who never knew how to quiet down, they all held a special place in his heart. And Seonghwa, well. He didn’t want to think about Seonghwa.
One by one they filtered out, chatter dying down as there was nothing left to say. Hongjoong moved on with the last of the crowd, walking through the white hallway covered in old photos exactly 3 feet apart. There was a sense of disbelief in him at the idea that he wouldn’t be walking into this hallway again the next morning, that the space that he had occupied for so long would simply exist without him. A voice beside him spoke up, tone gentle and a little crackled.
“Weird that we won’t be here anymore right?”
Mingi looked slightly haunted when he said it, and the look in his eye made Hongjoong feel like he knew he could only give him bad news.
“Yes, very weird.”
It wasn’t what either of them wanted to say, and it was less than what they wanted to hear, but it was the simple truth in a time when it all was coming to an end.
Just before the exit Hongjoong branched off, calling out that he was going to the bathroom to those behind him. As he walked through the men’s room door he reached a stall and locked himself inside, trying to ignore the usual smell of disinfectant not quite doing its job. He wrapped his arms around his middle, and let out a small sob. He tried to be as quiet as possible, the last thing he wanted was another person to knock on his door out of pity. He just needed a space to release, a moment to mourn what was gone.
It wasn’t just the show, although he would miss the space where he could perform, morphing his face and demeanor to match whatever twist that episode had in store. It wasn’t just the people, even though he would miss exchanging the latest gossip with Wooyoung while sipping coffee, and yelling at Mingi to get down from the rafters where he was setting up speakers. No he ached because he missed his opportunity.
5 fucking years he’s been in love, 5 years he’s wasted every second.
It had only taken a year for it to sink in, a year of awkward small talk falling into long conversations over humanity’s hubris and the best milk flavor, a year of polite glances that began to linger longer and longer, a year of small touches and accidental brushes evolving into sweet gestures and warm holds. And then a slow dive into quicksand, consuming him the more he struggled.
Tearing off a piece of paper thin toilet paper, he moved to dab his leaking eyes, hoping that his eyeliner wasn’t smudged beyond repair. He sat on the cold porcelain until his hands stopped their shake and his breath could come out clear, and with a few more sniffles he stood. Walking over to the mirror he almost flinched at the sight, the blaring light not so kind to his red rimmed eyes or the smears of black around them. But with a little tissue and soap he was able to clear up the worst of it. Deciding it looked punk rock and he liked that vibe anyway, he just let out a sigh and moved on. Footsteps heavy on the tile, he pushed open the door once more and looked on to the exit sign.
Its green light was like a siren, and before long his fingers were wrapped around the handle to the outside. He could almost feel the cold air that would burst onto his face when he opened it, the step back into reality from the bubble of fake temperature control and lighting. But he couldn’t pull that trigger, to hear the flatline echo in his head as his life here was finally declared dead. Turning his face back to see down the long hall, he stepped forward and rushed through it, as if he could run away from all that door represented. As he came back to the set he felt empty, as barren as the chilled room before him.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, here at the sight of someone else's happy ending.
Maybe it was a sliver of closure, a sign that it was really over and that was for the best. Maybe it was hope, deadly in its potential to ruin a good life. Or maybe it was just cowardice that led him to this place once more, the scene of his gravest sin. Where he was granted a gift of joy, a vision of kindness, and let it go.
As he entered further he felt along the set, glossing his hands over the banister that the cast had held a competition to slide on, feeling the texture of the couch that he had slept on when his lease had ended a day too early and his next one a day too late, placing his palm on the grand clock that had marked the passage of fake and real time as his life had passed before it. Perhaps it hurt more to cling to it, pretending that he could hold his fate firmly in his own hands.
In every memory this place held there Seonghwa was, like the beat of Hongjoong’s heart. Wobbling down the banister with a loud laugh, never looking back. Placing a blanket on Hongjoong before he had fully fallen asleep, and wishing him a quiet good night. The ticking of the clock was so loud as he had said his vows in his deep character voice, gaze looking like he would never want to see anything else than the vision of her face before him.
Hongjoong could admit he was pathetic, still wondering what could be here when everyone else had left, but he already knew that. He had known that when he repeatedly watched the episode where he and Seonghwa had shared a scandalous kiss on his laptop at 3 AM, body cold under the covers and eyes aching. It had been only a brief subplot of one episode, and it was technically done by his evil twin Ronjoong, but that didn’t stop him from scrolling some nights until he hit season 5 episode 11. It was an empty joy it brought him, but even just the sight of their lips locked left him feeling that somewhere, in some world, they really did happen.
Allowing his knees to buckle he swallowed the lump in his throat and tucked his legs into his body as he looked up at the lone light illuminating the scene. This place still seemed to ring of laughter and shouts of “Places everyone!” to him, and his vision was somewhere far from here. It saw the past, of figures moving as cameras were rolling and the chatting that buzzed around when they stopped. But his body was caught in the present, like an island in a stream as the world flowed into the future around him.
“What are you thinking about while still sitting here, Hongjoong.”
He almost didn’t want to look, to follow the soft voice that had spoken as if beyond the grave. It should have been dead, his opportunity behind him, he had just mourned it like a self-pitying child for the past 30 minutes. Yet here he was, the man he had had so resented and desired before him. Seonghwa was still in his “work” shirt, a white button down attached to clean black slacks. His face was neutral, not sad but not sympathetic, and Hongjoong couldn’t read what he wanted.
Left with nothing but his own projections, Hongjoong could do little else but break down. His sniffling was unsubtle and his eyelashes were soaked in seconds, but more than sorrow he felt a fury. An anger at a chance that didn’t know it was over, just another possibility that never would see the light of day.
“Why are you here?! Why aren’t you home already, far from the cold. I don’t get it Park Seonghwa, why you never leave my head!”
Seonghwa’s tone in his answer was cautious, something on his face that made Hongjoong want to puke. Already these words felt acidic like vomit, spilling from Hongjoong's gut and out of his mouth with a bitter tang.
“What do mean Joong? Why are you thinking about me?”
Hongjoong just snorted, ignoring the small dribble of snot that came out with his dramatic act of petulance. Snark has always been his best weapon, even when he was tearing his own walls apart.
“I don’t fucking know. Why would I keep thinking about some man who is so naive and stupid that he keeps getting scammed on ebay, a man who irons every shirt but oculdn’t put a cohesive outfit together to save his life, a man who make fun of me for being basic and liking The Beatles and then eats the same goddamn vanilla yogurt everyday?! Why would I love a man like you?”
Hongjoong took a breath and then barreled on, feeling like he wasn’t thinking at all before words came out of his mouth, and like he had been reciting this speech for years.
“Maybe I love you because of that! Because you only get scammed cause you always think the best of people, and you can’t put an outfit together because you don’t like to think about your appearance much even though you’re so stupidly handsome, and you buy that same yogurt because it has the little dancing cow on the front, and you love. That. dumb. Cow!”
By now Hongjoong’s voice was already breaking on the end, and he felt mortified by the sight he must make sitting here and crying over Seonghwa eating yogurt, confessing a deep love by listing off all the idiotic things he’s noticed over the years. This really was as big of a disaster as he always thought it would be.
Then Seonghwa’s hands were around his wrists, tugging them away from his face even as Hongjoong fought him. Giving in and staring up at Seonghwa defiantly, Hongjoong was outraged to see that the man was wearing a broad grin. Taking in an extra hard sniff, Hongjoong prepared to speak again, but Seonghwa must have read his face because he cut him off before he was able to open his mouth.
“I’m so glad your just as stupid at love as me. It’s been a long time pining after you Kim Hongjoong, and never did I imagine you were this perfect.”
As he leaned in this time Hongjoong saw it all up close, from the freckle near his lip to the gaze in his eye, like all Seonghwa could ever see was him.
His lips were gentle, and the lack of space between them felt impossible. Caught between disbelief and desire, Hongjoong pressed back firmly, moving forward and determined to not let this go. Seonghwa’s arms settled around Hongjoong’s waist and his lips gradually moved away, now forming a smile that looked even sweeter from this distance. Hongjoong just hoped none of his snot had reached his lips, and then realized that it probably didn’t matter if he had a chance to erase the memory with a thousand more.
“For your information I ate that yogurt for the cute cow AND because you once said it reminded you of me, happy when I had no reason to be. Also Mingi and San have a bet about when I was going to finally confess, and they’re not going to be happy when I tell them it wasn’t me at all.”
Hongjoong just blinked, uncaring about anything other than the reality of Seonghwa’s warmth bleeding through his shirt and the lingering taste of mint chapstick on his lips. Finally able to get his thoughts together, Hongjoong just pressed his spinning head into Seonghwa’s shoulder and closed his eyes, voice almost serene.
“You are always happy for no good reason, and I used to hate that positivity until it infected me. And I don’t care who confessed and who will be sad about it, as long as I know it's actually real when I wake up.”
Seonghwa just stroked the knots out of Hongjoong’s bleached hair, and pressed a smiling mouth to his head.
“You will know Joong, cause you’ll wake up next to me.”