Chapter Text
Lavender fronds sway gently. There’s a smell of salt in the air, and the distant crashing of waves. He stands among the plants, and he walks forward, looking up at him…
“Yah! Kim Seungmin! Stop daydreaming!”
He startles out of his reverie.
He lets out a screech of protest. He starts viciously attacking his younger brother, digging his hands into his sides viciously. When Jeongin pleads for mercy, he returns to his original position, cuddling his fluffy pillow and staring out of the window, but the magic is lost.
“Leave me aloneeeeeeeeeee,” He whines.
Jeongin, stretched out on his bed, sighs. “Don’t you want something more than just…daydreams? You need to get out there, get some action! Seriously, what kind of old grandpa spends Friday nights at home, talking to his brother?”
He stubbornly sets his jaw. “I don’t want to date, Innie. Leave me be!”
That’s a lie. He does want to date. It’s just… all the crushes are the handsome, kind, caring type, the ones that tie in to his fantasies. The ones that are way out of his league.
Seungmin is a face in the background. He’s shy, quiet, antisocial and awkward. And, as Jeongin said, he’s boring.
Felix, his best friend, has tried to drag him out of the house multiple times to one of those parties the Australian has charmed his way into., but he refuses. Going out to parties, confessing his crushes, dating, means he has to venture out of his comfort zone, and he’s never been brave enough to do anymore than dream.
That’s why whenever he's had a crush, a small one, a big one, a fleeting one, he writes them a letter. . It's a way to let go of his hopeless feelings, for he knows none of them will ever like him back.
…
The weekend goes by at the speed of a Japanese bullet train, and before he knows it, he’s grabbing his pale blue bag and hopping into Wonpil’s car. Wonpil , his older brother, usually gives him rides, because they go to the same school. The downside is that he has to get up at the ass-crack of dawn because Wonpil is one of those abominations known as morning people.
Wonpil’s popular for his pretty vocals and cute relationships with his boyfriend, Dowoon. He’s kind and caring and has lots of friends. He’s brought honour to the school at international singing competitions. Seungmin has no hope of filling his shoes.
The JYP school of the arts is pretty nice. Their “leader in entertainment” motto is proof of their prestigious history. They offer programmes and plans in dance, rap, producing, and vocals, which he takes, following in the footsteps of his brother. To sweeten the deal, they get a basically confirmed acceptance to the university affiliated with it. Even though the principal and his executives suck, the opportunities given make up for it.
“Have a nice day at school!” Wonpil hums, sounding insufferably cheerful as he drops Seungmin off at the school gates before driving off to park his car.
As soon as he steps out of the car, someone runs up and loops their hand around his shoulder. It’s Felix-- the clingy sweet sunshine. Yet another popular student. Seungmin, to this day, has no idea how Felix chose him out of the other twenty or so elementary students to share his chocolate milk with. But they’ve never looked back since.
“You should have come to the party! Jisung got dead drunk and started to write drunk texts to everyone and it was so funny!” Felix says brightly. As always, his deep voice is a shocking contrast to his face.
Ah. That explains the “Our friendship is two rubber duckies floating in the tumultuous waves of the sea” text he received at 1am. At least it had perfect spelling.
Jisung is Felix’s second best friend, and therefore by extension Seungmin’s second best friend. When he gets drunk, he gets ultra sappy.
“You know I don’t, Lix,” They’ve had this conversation far too many times.
They stop in front of the vocal classroom.
“See you at lunch!” Felix says with a blinding smile.
He gives him a small wave.
…
He’s walking down the hallway to the cafeteria when he hears footsteps behind him. Someone taps his shoulder.
“Hwang Hyunjin?” He says incredulously.
Hyunnin is the prince of the school. Tall, handsome and talented, the dance major’s locker is perpetually filled with notes and gifts and flowers. He is one of Lix’s friends as well, which is how Seungmin knows him. They’ve exchanged a few awkward greetings, but nothing beyond that.
Until he sees the thick, sky blue letter he’s gripping in his hands, with his loopy scrawl all over it.
His mind goes blank. No, no no. This cannot be happening. He has that feeling, the one he gets when he’s falling towards the ground, and he knows that he will slam against the hard ground and there’s nothing he can do about it. It’s that feeling when life slaps you so hard in the face that you think it must be a dream.
The letters. The four carefully penned, sealed letters. The ones with his stupid little feelings that he can never express out loud.
He does the only thing he can do at that moment. He runs.
He runs down the stairs, into the cafeteria, and barrels straight into Felix.
“Huh?” Felix asks as Seungmin buries his face into Felix’s knitted sweater with a muffled “save me”. He pats Seungmin’s back, confused. “What happened?”
Before Seungmin can even begin to explain the craziness that is his life now, he’s pulled sharply away.
“Seungmin,” Wonpil says, voice sharp and cold as chips of ice. His warm gaze has frozen over.
…
Seungmin sent four letters.
One to Hwang Hyunjin. The handsome prince of the school. The boy who has the thickest pinkest lips, and fluid, beautiful dance moves.
Another stupid, small one to Felix. A fleeting crush. His best friend. The boy who's always been there for him.
Another to Choi Yeonjun. A boy from his summer camp. The boy who taught Seungmin how to canoe, very patiently, for the better part of an hour.
The last to Yoon Dowoon. A big, big mistake. His brother’s boyfriend. His latest crush.
....
Seungmin gulps. Dowoon, behind Wonpil, has the tip of his orange letter peeking out of his pocket. He's gazing at Seungmin with an indescribable emotion swirling in his eyes and has one hand on Wonpil’s shoulder. Holding him back, he realises, as he sees Wonpil’s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white.
“Don’t be delusional, Kim Seungmin,” He snarls, “Maybe try for someone in your league. Not your own brother’s boyfriend who’s been in a three-year relationship. You-” He exhales angrily. Seungmin can see it’s taking every shred of older brother responsibility in him to not lash out at him. His usual calm demeanour has turned a 180.
“You’ve always been weird and awkward, but this is taking it a bit too far! Always daydreaming, always spacing out. Never interacting with more than a few people.”
“Did you send more letters, Seungmin-ah? Did you really believe any one of them would ever date you, would ever care about you?”
Seungmin squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry, but salty, hot tears still leak out anyway. Each word Wonpil spits out seems to reach and stab deep into his heart.
Felix, the sweet boy, dabs at his tears with the end of his sweater. “Stop it. What’s happening? What did Seungmin do?”
Dowoon too, says gently, “Enough, Pil-ah. He didn’t do any-”
“It’s not enough! He deserves this! He deserves to feel this! You stay out of it, both of you!”’
His raised voice has attracted quite a crowd of people. They point, whisper, gossip. It feels like walls are closing in on Seungmin, suffocating him. He can’t even speak up. Pathetic. Worthless. Invisible.
Until someone hugs him, letting Seungmin bury his face into his chest. He feels the smooth cotton of a black shirt. He’s tall, taller than Seungmin. In the periphery of his vision, he glimpses a blue letter still grasped in his hand.
Hyunjin.
What is he doing here?