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To say that the Kpop side of the internet blew up in seconds after Jeon Jeongguk had posted would be the understatement of the year.
His fandom, the Euphoria, has exploded in size through the past year, ever since Jeongguk – a.k.a. JK – went viral with a cover song. Since then his popularity has skyrocketed, and whatever he does, it instantly becomes the talk of the town.
Jeongguk shuts his phone and tilts his head against the chair’s headrest with a yawn, then lets a satiated sigh escape his lips. Last night he tweeted in a semi-unconscious state after practicing for 14 hours straight, and now the hashtags #JKWeLoveYou and #JKComebackSoon are trending worldwide. Being an idol with superstar status is still a new experience for him but it sure is nice to feel loved and appreciated after all the hard work he has been putting into his career. Jeongguk rubs his bloodshot eyes and greets Jisoo, his loyal makeup artist ever since debut, when she steps into the room with her personal makeup kit in hand.
”G’morning, noona.”
On the left side of the room there is a floor-to-ceiling window but the sky is still dark outside, the city lights are pulsating in the bloodstream-like maze of Seoul.
”Good morning— You look like you woke up five minutes ago,” Jisoo chuckles, voice far too energetic for such early hours. ”I saw you posted late at night again,” comes the reprimanding tone, while her skilled hands are already working on the makeup. ”Couldn’t sleep again?”
”Yeah,” Jeongguk nods, already half asleep in the comfortable chair. Jisoo hums and dabs a beauty blender against the boy’s cheekbone gently.
”You’re overworking yourself.”
”Noona,” Jeongguk groans, not even bothering to open his eyes, his eyelids feeling heavy as lead. ”Please don’t start this. As Seokjin hyung has already explained multiple times, this tight schedule is necessary because I just got my breakthrough. I have to work hard now to stay relevant.”
”Still,” Jisoo argues, worry clear in her smooth voice. ”The way you’re living nowadays is not healthy. You’re eating way too much ramen… And try to go to bed earlier!”
Jeongguk cracks his eyes open just to roll them at her dramatically. ”Yes, mom.”
Jisoo laughs and boops his nose with the blender, gaze fond.
”I know you’re not a kid anymore, Jeongguk-ah, but I still worry about you every day. I’m not saying that Seokjin is not a decent manager, but sometimes I feel like he says yes to every single stupid gig they offer to you.”
Jisoo has been there with Jeongguk ever since he was a fifteen years old trainee, with big t-shirts and big doe eyes and even bigger dreams. Jisoo has seen him grow up, has seen him debut and struggle as a solo singer, and has seen him make it big in the second year of his career. Now Jeongguk is twenty years old, ready to conquer the world and dominate the charts, but Jisoo tends to ignore that time has passed.
”That’s not true,” Jeongguk defends his manager, despite deep down agreeing with Jisoo. For example, the interview he is being dolled up for right now is a totally unnecessary program, if Jeongguk is being honest with himself – after arriving to the little studio where the interview will take place, he got the list of questions, and most of them are about his older songs or his private life. Two topics Jeongguk is not exactly keen on talking about; the first due to releasing new music soon, and the latter due to—
Well.
His older music consists of mostly self-written, partially self-produced love songs; sad ballads or hopeful R&B tracks. Through his career the most frequently asked question has been what or who inspires his lyrics; and albeit there is an answer to that question, Jeongguk would rather embarrass himself publicly with some cheesy lie followed by awkward laughter than tell the truth.
As far as the fans and the media are concerned, he has never been in love. As far as they know, his love songs are inspired by books and poems, fans’ stories and movies. No one should ever get to know that whenever he starts working on his lyrics, he has one particular person in mind – and that person is a boy.
Jisoo dusts a soft umber-shaded eyeshadow on his lids and then smudges it with the brush to make it look smokey. Jeongguk’s closed lids flutter and his fingers twitch around his phone as his mind wanders to him. In the past few years he has practiced some admirable self-restraint and managed to not check on Park Jimin’s social media, at all. Whenever he thinks of the boy while scratching new lines of his lyrics onto the notebook’s wrinkled paper, he imagines Jimin the way he remembers him – a picture frozen in time, from five years ago when he last saw Jimin, with warm brown eyes and fluffy black hair and chubby, rosy cheeks and the most dazzling smile.
A pleasant shiver runs down Jeongguk’s spine at the memory and his stomach lurches; reactions his body always has whenever Jimin comes to his mind. Which is stupid and should not happen – he tries to forget, after all. He avoids Jimin’s social media like the plague and writes all those pining lyrics out of his system in order to be able to move on; to already get over this silly crush from freaking middle school.
”Are you ready, Jeongguk-ah? The interview starts in fifteen minutes!” Seokjin’s voice penetrates the comfortable silence of the room and Jisoo clicks her tongue.
”Just a sec,” she mutters, fixing the makeup and admiring her work with a critical look in her eyes. ”I think this shade suits you well, Jeongguk-ah. I’ll use it more often.”
”Thanks, noona,” the boy smiles at her, checking out the result of Jisoo’s ministrations in the mirror lit on the sides.
”Not bad, not bad,” comments Seokjin too, grinning as he steps closer. ”You don’t look like a zombie anymore! Good job, Jisoo-yah, for making those dark circles disappear!”
Jisoo giggles at the praise, twirling a lock of hair around her finger shyly. ”Thanks. I tried my best… But to be honest, Jeongguk should just sleep more.”
Seokjin snorts, as if the mere idea was ridiculous.
”He’s a hot topic now, at the peak of his popularity! Sleep is the least of his concerns right now, am I right, Jeongguk-ah?”
The boy, whose hair is now in the care of another stylist, emits a forced little laugh. Yes, his biggest concern at this moment for sure is not sleep but more so the fact that he misses Jimin more and more each day. It has been 5 years since he saw him and instead of forgetting, Jeongguk feels like he is close to reaching his limits. There is not a single day he does not think of Jimin, dwelling on what ifs and should’ves and could’ves. There is not a single day he does not think about that night when he royally fucked everything up.
”Yeah,” Jeongguk replies weakly, a bit belatedly, not meeting Seokjin’s eyes.
The manager is still satisfied with the answer and with a charming smile thrown in the direction of Jisoo he leaves the room to get some water.
Once he is out of the room, Jeongguk finds it easier to breathe.
”You seem nervous,” Jisoo notes, watching with mild curiosity as Jeongguk’s nest-like mess of hair is styled into something presentable.
”A little bit,” Jeongguk admits while clearing his throat. He is always nervous when he is asked about his private life. He is always nervous when those intimate kind of questions make him think of Park Jimin.
As if he was not thinking of Park Jimin already more times than enough—
Maybe it is the result of him being exhausted, or him being scared of the expectations Seokjin and the company have towards him, or him being excited for his upcoming comeback – Jeongguk has no idea what exactly possesses him when he suddenly unlocks his phone and opens Instagram to log in with his private account. In sort of a daze he taps on the search icon and begins to type the name of Jimin’s old account. Out of the blue the urge to just see him again, to look at him and that perfect smile of his is overwhelming. Jeongguk’s heart starts pounding when he realizes that the account still exists – and is public. His finger is hovering over the screen, throat tight and palms sweating, and he does not even realize that he keeps biting his bottom lip, completely ruining the coat of gloss Jisoo applied onto it.
It is that millisecond – the moment, the decision that seals his fate.
He taps on the account’s name and finds himself face-to-face with Park Jimin’s fluffy hair and soft cheeks and warm dark eyes.
Jeongguk gulps, and his first, terrifying thought is that he is still in love. Of course he is; apparently five years and 325 kilometers of distance were not enough for his dumb heart to forget.
His second thought is that Jimin dyed his hair. Pink. It looks good on him, of course it does. Rosy, just like his round cheeks and plump lips. Jeongguk knows how pillowy those lips are; no matter how much he has tried to suppress the memories, he still remembers vividly that night and how Jimin’s lips tasted like strawberry vodka and innocent curiosity.
On some days, some horrible days, when he is too tired to argue with himself, instead of suppressing them, Jeongguk likes to remember those memories, reliving them while standing under the shower, skin hot and body needy. On some nights, drunk on soju and solitude in his dark little dorm room, with dried tears on his cheeks, he likes to remember those memories and imagine what would have happened, if only—
Jeongguk’s heart thuds painfully hard in his chest, and he has to gasp for air to be able to breathe properly again.
“Fuck”, he murmurs in panic, skin tingling and ears ringing, because it only sinks in now just how bad of an idea this was. After five years of perfect self-control and abstinence he allowed a random, rushed decision to make the ground slip from under his feet yet again. Because damn, he remembered Jimin as pretty and sweet, but this—
This is some next level.
And now that he saw him again, Jeongguk is 100% sure that he will not be able to forget such a beautiful sight, ever again.
”Wow, who is that?” The hairdresser stylist, a newbie at Jeongguk’s company who has not learnt yet to not be openly nosy, peaks from above his shoulder. ”An ulzzang?”
Fuck. Jeongguk is so fucked.
”Ah, no, no.” He shakes his head, locking his phone hurriedly. ”He’s, um, an o-uh, o-old classmate of mine. A childhood friend, y’know? His name just randomly came to mind and I wanted to check on him, that’s all.”
The stylist smiles at his stuttering. ”Thought that he’s an idol or something— He’s really good-looking.”
”Yeah,” Jeongguk agrees, voice wavering.
”Hey, are you alright?” Jisoo chimes in, eyebrows knitted together.
Jeongguk nods with a smile that he hopes is reassuring, and remains motionless while Jisoo applies a new coat of gloss onto his chapped lips. The stylists check his clothes for the last time, dusting them off and smoothing out wrinkles, and then the idol is finally ready for the interview. Sometimes it is hard to recognize himself in the mirror, and today is one of those times; Jeongguk swallows tightly as he stares at himself, skin unblemished like porcelain, eyes alluring, lips lush and shiny, and it feels wrong because he knows that beneath all the glamour there is a terrified, lovesick fool who just royally fucked things up for the second time in his life. His knees suddenly feel weak, mouth becoming dry, and he wishes Seokjin would hurry up and bring those water bottles faster. Words gather at the tip of his tongue, ready to be spilled – words of brand new lyrics, all about the shocking experience of discovering that the Park Jimin of today still has the same effect on Jeon Jeongguk’s poor, idiotic heart as five years ago.
All those years back it was Jimin who had kissed him during that drunken haze of a birthday party, and it was Jimin who acted the next day as if nothing had happened. It was Jimin who stole the young Jeongguk’s heart just to break it, it was Jimin and his bright smiles that Jeongguk left behind when he moved away from Busan, and yet—
And yet, here Jeongguk is, years later, sleep-deprived and lonely in Seoul, building his entire career on love songs about Jimin, and trembling at the mere sight of a photo. Here Jeongguk is, still having feelings, and still having a tendency to fuck shit up with a reckless decision.
He makes the mistake of unlocking his phone – Jeongguk has never thought of himself as someone who is self-destructive (except maybe for that one time in the past), but now he might just start to. His eyes fall on Jimin’s picture again, and then he notices the comment under it.
Jeongguk exits the Instagram app with shaking fingers, an acidic taste on his tongue and stomach as small as a golf ball. Who is vantete_95? What if Jimin has someone – someone special? What if—
”Hey, kiddo, are you ready?” Seokjin returns with two water bottles in hand, and winks at the boy while patting him on the back jovially.
Jeongguk nods robotically, gaze distant and smile not reaching his eyes, and inside he wants to scream. But he is an idol, someone who trained for three long years, someone who always knows what others want to hear – so when he replies, his tone is nothing but calm and professional.
”Yes, hyung. Let’s go.”
~ 💌 ~
It was a suffocating hot and rainy summer day, back then in high school.
”Hey, Jeonggukie! Wanna come with us to the PC bang?”
Jimin waved at him invitingly, already halfway sitting on his dark blue bicycle. He was surrounded by his classmates, three boys and two girls, and the size of the group, plus the fact that its members all were older than him, intimidated Jeongguk a bit.
”Hm? Wanna come? It’s gonna be super fun!”
It was a hot and rainy day, Jeongguk’s hair was sticking flatly onto his forehead and his skin was itchy due to the dampness in the air, but Jimin somehow managed to look gorgeous, as always; neat and collected in their school’s black-and-white student uniform. Jeongguk’s heart thudded painfully while staring at him – all pretty eyes and sweet, encouraging smiles – then casted a glance at his own red, awaiting bicycle by the school building’s rack. Well, spending a little more time with Jimin is never a bad idea… He opened his mouth to say yes to the invitation, but right in that moment one of the girls in Jimin’s group suddenly grabbed Jimin’s arm, in a way that was anything but friendly, and this sight alone was enough to spread something acidic across Jeongguk’s tongue.
“I, u-um... I have homework,” he muttered the excuse with a frown, swallowing audibly while avoiding Jimin’s questioning gaze, discouragement settling heavily in his bones. He would be the youngest in this group, and he would get teased – or worse, babied – by Jimin’s friends, just like last time when they had gone to a karaoke bar. It was not that Jeongguk disliked being babied, but more so the fact that nowadays he only enjoyed it when Jimin was the one treating him that way. And even then, it was mostly due to Jimin giving him attention, any kind of attention, really—
See, in Jeongguk’s most honest opinion, being in love with your best friend sucks. Being in love with your popular, kind, beautiful, oblivious male best friend, while being male yourself, does not only suck, but it is an absolute dumpster fire. Especially if your romantic feelings are unrequited and quite possibly completely hopeless.
“Oh— Okay,” Jimin deflated, visibly disappointed that Jeongguk is not joining his group. “But tomorrow you’ll come, right? To Donghyuk’s birthday party?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jeongguk reassured him with a weak smile. Oh, the infamous huge birthday party of an infamous delinquent upperclassman that half the school is invited to – how could he possibly forget? Jimin was the one who invited him to ‘have a little fun’, and Jeongguk only had said yes because how could he ever say anything else when Jimin had looked so enthusiastic about spending time together?
That damned birthday party was the catalyst of all the disasters that followed that one humid summer day. Ever since realizing that he is in love with his best friend, Jeongguk rarely let his guard down, but it was his very first high school party, his very first time getting tipsy, and his very first really big, truly irrevocable mistake.
The birthday party was, indeed, a huge one, with all the up- and downsides of those: too many people crowded into a too small place, there was too little air and way too much soju. Sweaty bodies pressed against each other to the pulse of roaring music, and Jeongguk could feel a headache creeping its way to his skull the very second he set foot in the tiny apartment. It was, probably, a terrible idea to hold such a big gathering in such a limited space, and Jeongguk became acutely aware of this when he glanced around just for one moment and the next time he turned to Jimin to ask him when they can leave, Jimin was nowhere to be seen in the sea of bodies around.
Anxiety sunk its claws into Jeongguk’s empty stomach, and the acidic taste on his tongue was a great reminder that he should have eaten before coming here. Also, that he should not have come here, in the first place, because the noise, the crowd and the stink of perspiration mixed with alcohol were all things Jeongguk could hardly tolerate.
He heard his name coming from Jimin’s mouth, desperate and faraway, but no matter how frantically he kept looking around, he only saw strangers and cigarette smoke. Jimin was not particularly tall, either, and Jeongguk was at the beginning of his growth spurt, so despite both of them standing on their tiptoes, their search for each other was futile for a while.
After ten minutes of being shoved around by dancing couples and getting elbowed in the ribs, Jeongguk not only felt miserable but also frustrated beyond limits. So when someone offered him a cup filled to the brim with soju, he did not even hesitate to say yes, just to get away from the possibility of interaction as quickly as he could.
He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and wished he had stood home and completed the next level of his new favorite game instead of participating in this mess. Jimin and him were a great duo when it came to video games: Jimin was good at analyzing the opponents’ moves and coming up with counter-strategies, and Jeongguk was good at turning those strategies into victories. One benefit of playing video games together with Jimin was that whenever Jeongguk kept playing for too long without a break, determined to beat the opponent on the hardest level, Jimin was always there to take care of him, to nag him till he finally agreed to go to bed.
Another benefit was that they ate ridiculous amounts of chips and bickered a lot and laughed even more, and the whole situation always felt like such a bro-thing to do. It was easier for Jeongguk to pretend that they are just best friends and nothing more, just guys being dudes. It was easier to pretend, while eyeing some monstrous final boss and slaughtering spider-like minions, that his mind is not occupied with thoughts of Jimin’s thick, beautiful eyelashes or the gentleness of his voice or the pinkness of his full lips ninety-nine percent of every day. Or, for variety, with bone-chilling thoughts of Jimin and that girl, that one very pushy classmate of his named Daejong who is clearly interested.
Jeongguk shuddered, grip tightening around the cup of soju. He was in such a sour mood, he downed the beverage without thinking about it twice. To distract himself, he started to come up with plans on how to defeat that one annoying boss in the game – because there were many things Jeongguk has had to come to terms with, many things he had to accept eventually, but if anything then failure was not something he was used to.
He was not sure when – or how – did one cup turn into two or three, but one thing he knew certainly: at some point he had started to feel good. Or at least, better than before. His body felt light and afloat and free, and Jeongguk suddenly felt more daring than ever. He became bold enough to respond to an older student, a girl, and engage in a short conversation with her about the awful music. He became fearless enough to hum and then quietly sing along to a song he liked (Jimin always complimented his voice, always encouraged him to never give up on his dream of becoming an idol, even went to an audition with Jeongguk for moral support despite the fact that it was on the same day as the award ceremony of the math competition that Jimin had won, and god, Jeongguk was so ridiculously smitten and grateful and—).
He became stupid enough to let his guard down.
When finally, after what felt like decades, he spotted Jimin out in the corner of the cramped living room, he should have realized that it is the beginning of a mistake, to put his arms around Jimin’s slender waist, to hook his chin over Jimin’s shoulder. He should have stopped himself then and there, but instead he allowed the situation to spiral out of control completely, let his fingers slide down to the hem of Jimin’s shirt and find bare skin there.
The loud bass of the music was thrumming in his veins, his heart skipped beats in exhilaration. His fingertips explored the smooth sliver of skin for a second, and for that second Jeongguk’s lashes fluttered shut and he allowed himself to entertain the thought that Jimin is okay with this, with them, and that all of this is just fine.
Jimin smacked his hands away and turned around with a scowl on his angelic face.
”Where did you disappear to?! I was searching for you for, like, ages! Jeonggukie, I was really worried—“
Jeongguk did not like that frown, did not like the genuine concern in Jimin’s voice. He wanted to make him smile, laugh; anything but upset.
”J’minie hyung,” he slurred, tongue moving slowly in his mouth. ”You’re— Yoh-your eyes are p-pretty~”
Those pretty eyes of Jimin’s widened considerably, and Jeongguk was not sure if he imagined the flush blooming on his cheeks or it was just a trick of the dim lighting.
”Are you drunk?!” Jimin looked at him with such astonishment, Jeongguk thought it was honestly a bit funny.
”Maybeee,” he giggled, putting his hands on Jimin’s hips and pulling him close once again.
Jimin stared at him in a state of shock, not reacting even when Jeongguk’s cloudy gaze landed on his lips.
”Your lips are,” Jeongguk mumbled, unable to tear his eyes away from the other boy’s mouth, looking just as plump and soft as always, “pretty, too, y’know?”
His words blurred together, his thoughts blended into a jumble, and everything else other than those pink, beautiful lips has stopped existing. Jeongguk wanted to know how they would feel, how they would taste, so with thundering heart he leaned closer—
He felt the brush of lips against his, he felt Jimin’s mouth move, he felt the way Jimin angled his head for better access. For a breath-taking second he was kissing Jimin – just an innocent press of chapped lips against velvety soft ones – and for another mind-blowingly ecstatic second Jimin was kissing him back.
Until he was not. Until Jimin’s chubby little hands pushed at his chest as the gentlest way of protesting.
”Jeonggukie… What are you doing?”
Jimin’s voice was soft, so soft that it was a miracle that Jeongguk could even hear him. Jeongguk blinked a few times, trying his best to focus on the other’s face.
”I— I, um—“
”Let’s go home,” Jimin decided firmly. ”You’re drunk and you’re acting weirdly—“
His tongue suddenly felt heavy, his heart and his stomach felt heavy, as well, and when Jeongguk blurted out, “I’m not acting weirdly. I just love you,” it felt more defensive and exasperated than he intended it to be. He had never ever intended to say it out loud in the first place, after all.
Jimin’s gaze found his. They made eye contact for seconds, or minutes or hours, Jeongguk could not tell, because all he could concentrate on was the fact that Jimin’s hands were still on his chest and with them Jimin was slowly but steadily pushing him backwards, putting more and more distance between their bodies.
”Are you for real—?” Jimin asked, so quietly that Jeongguk only guessed what he said from the way his lips had moved.
Jeongguk did not have to say his answer – everything was there in his eyes. Jimin seemed to understand, because when he opened his mouth again, he was at a loss for words. His hands, however, those small and cute hands, were still flat on Jeongguk’s chest as a barrier, as a brake. As a reminder of the fact that Jimin pushed him away.
Jeongguk turned around and stumbled towards the entrance in a haze, limbs numb and stomach hollow, feeling like his bones were filled with lead. Jimin did not follow him, not right away, at least. They went home together in complete silence; while riding the subway they both stared out the window wordlessly, and Jeongguk was proud of himself for managing to hold back his tears and not once look at Jimin during the whole time.
Rejection is failure, and failure is something he was not used to. And this failure in particular, Jeongguk knew he would not be able to come to terms with, not in a year, not in five years, probably not in a lifetime.
The next day Jimin acted like nothing had happened, and Jeongguk visited the audition of a small, no-name company, just to distract his mind from his chaotic thoughts. On that same day he signed his first contact and went home to pack. A day later he was sitting on the train to Seoul, on the road to stardom with a luggage almost as big as himself and with wet cheeks still tingling from his Mom’s loving goodbye-pinches. His luggage, though, was not even half as heavy as his heart, and as the thought that he had not even dared to say goodbye to Jimin face-to-face.
~ 💌 ~
If there is something Jeongguk despises more than early mornings and bitter coffee, then that is a press conference.
“Are you ready?” Seokjin asks, overly cheerful in an attempt to hide how nervous he feels, voice a bit more high-pitched than usual.
Jeongguk nods with lips forming a tight line, adjusting his tie and dusting off his suit.
“Neat. The conference starts in ten minutes, so meet me in eight at backstage!”
Jeongguk nods again, eyes dazed. His comeback is very soon, the press is searching for a hole in his armor, the fans and critics are eager to know what he will bring to the table music-wise, and the rivals and haters are anticipating the moment he makes or says something that they can twist into a weapon to tear his career apart, to bring him down.
After five years in the entertainment industry, Jeongguk’s guts should not churn with anxiety whenever he has to go on stage, honestly, but they still do. It is early in the morning, the taste of coffee with less sugar than acceptable lingers on Jeongguk’s tongue. He needed that coffee to wake him up, but what he would need even more is to delete Instagram from his phone. He unlocks the device and casts a reprimanding glance at the person on his screen, as if making him lose sleep these days was his fault.
Well, technically speaking, it kind of is Jimin’s fault, really, Jeongguk muses as he locks his phone. He sniffs and glances at his watch, drums the beat of his upcoming title track (it is tropical EDM, something new and refreshing from him, and Jeongguk worked really hard on the melody, almost as hard as he worked on the lyrics which is definitely not about Jimin this time, nope, absolutely not at all—) on the dressing table in front of him, then unlocks his phone again and refreshes his Instagram feed.
No new pictures from Jimin. The last one was uploaded two days ago. Jeongguk has not had a good night’s sleep for what feels like forever, but at least for two days, and he still has no idea who that vantete_95 person is who comments suggestive things below every single picture Jimin shares. Jeongguk curses the moment when he decided to check out Jimin’s Instagram profile, and he curses that moment even more when he did not decide to uninstall the app right after laying eyes on Park Jimin’s hauntingly beautiful face.
It should be illegal to be this pretty, he thinks with a pout he is not aware of, because if he were, he would scold himself for being childish. He is about to lock his phone once again with a frustrated huff, when an unexpected notification pops up.
You've got mail! Unread emails (1)
Jeongguk stares at the screen without blinking. That email address is his old private one, so old and so private that he has not used it in the past five years. Only his family and closest friends from Busan know this particular address, and out of these people who would send an email to him in this time and age of text messages and calls?
The next wave of shock comes when he opens the email app and looks at the date of the unread mail.
”What the actual—“ It is dated back to four years ago. And it is sent from some suspicious address with the name tomyfutureself. Did he take part in some time capsule project, just forgot about it? Is this some sasaeng who somehow found out Jeongguk’s most personal data? Is it nonsense spam? With growing curiosity Jeongguk taps on the mail to open it.
Dearest Jeonggukie,
And with this, Jeongguk already finds it hard to breathe. He can practically hear it in his head, the way Jimin used to say his name like this, Jeonggukie this, Jeonggukie that, Jeonggukie don’t cross the road when the lamp’s not green! or Give your hyung a massage, Jeonggukie, pretty pleeeeaseee! It is painful, how a tornado of memories – of beachside trips and mountain hiking, of slimy summers with Jimin buying him ice cream from his pocket money, of them catching fireflies and then releasing them out of pity, of Jimin and him racing each other on blue and red bicycles – awakens in Jeongguk’s very soul just by reading that one word. With wide eyes, strained muscles and a flip-flopping heart he quickly scrolls through the mail to see who sent it, and as he feared, or expected, or hoped, or whatever that feeling is that currently squeezes his stomach so hard, there it is in the end: Yours truly, Jimin
”Jeongguk-ah, what are you doing?! The press conference starts in a minute, it’s time to go!” A very stressed-out Seokjin finds Jeongguk frozen in his chair, choked up, eyes shining.
~ 💌 ~
The press conference is nothing but a mess.
Jeongguk cannot concentrate properly for the life of him, as all he can think about is the letter, Jimin’s letter. The letter he did not have the chance to read yet.
”Jeongguk-ssi, how would you describe the creative process behind your newest EP?”
”Oh, um—“
“Jeongguk-ssi, what kind of emotions does the title track convey?”
”Ah, I—“
Distantly, from the corner of his eye Jeongguk can see Seokjin standing backstage, face buried in his palms. Jeongguk grits his teeth and steels himself at the sight; he has to get himself together and act like the professional he is!
”The central theme of the EP is letting go,” he states after clearing his throat. ”It’s about running away from problems, from conflicts, and then letting them go with or without a solution. It’s an album about cowardice, a very human flaw that anyone can relate to at some point in life, and I hope that my Euphorias will find consolation and encouragement in my songs. Being brave is hard, making the right decisions is a struggle, and in some situations we only see later what a big mistake we made and what we should’ve done differently. The title track is not a love song, surprisingly—“
This causes a ripple of jovial laughter breaking out within the crowd of journalists. Jeongguk smiles, too, but all that is echoing in his mind is Dearest Jeonggukie and Yours truly, Jimin.
“— But it is a song about moving on. So it is kind of a post-love song, I suppose?” Another gentle smile towards the cameras, another fit of laughter from the crowd.
“Is there a person behind this EP as inspiration?”
“Yes, Jeongguk-ssi, can you tell us who the muse is?”
”Sometimes, though…” he continues, ignoring the intrusive questions, then pauses, searching for the right words. He was – and probably still is – in love with Jimin for a long time, so losing him shattered him in places he had not known existed within him, but what is even more painful is the fact that he lost his best friend in the process, too.
“Sometimes losing a friend, a good friend on top of that, is worse than a break-up. Romances can come and go, but when you destroy a strong friendship out of cowardice, that— that is indescribable,” he finishes it quietly, not looking into the cameras. He knows that he already showed too much sincerity and vulnerability to begin with. “That’s all I want to say about this topic.” He raises his head after giving himself a few seconds to slip his professional idol mask back in place.
“So all the songs on this EP remain mostly self-written, self-produced and very personal?” A journalist questions, and Jeongguk wonders briefly if Jimin has been following his career or not, if Jimin is watching this press conference live stream right now or not, if Jimin knew that Jeongguk was talking about him, that not a single day passes without Jeongguk thinking of him.
“Yes. I want the audience to feel my rawest emotions when listening to my music.”
“Thank you, Jeongguk-ssi. Is there anything you want to tell your fans?”
Jeongguk looks directly into the camera, Jimin’s face flashing through his mind, and takes a deep breath. “Yes. I want to say a huge thank you, for all your support and dedication, and—“ his voice wavers a little, and he is glad that the table tent card with his name on it is wide enough to hide the way his fingers tremble. “And if you’ve ever loved me and my music at any point in life in any way, then I’m immensely grateful and I love you back a thousand times. Thank you, my Euphoria.”
Cameras flash, catching the sharpness of his jawline, the shadows of sleepless nights under his eyes, the healthy glow of his hair and the defined roundness of his muscular shoulders. The journalists are satisfied with the pictures, and Jeongguk is satisfied with the way he managed not to slip up once, despite having a trainwreck of thoughts in his brain. As soon as the press conference is over and Jeongguk is sitting in the van together with Seokjin, he fumbles hurriedly to fish out his phone from his bag and read the mail.
He knows it is going to crush his soul, but he opens it anyway.
~ 💌 ~
Dearest Jeonggukie,
I don’t know if you will ever receive this letter in the future, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing right now as I write this, either, but I had to write it, anyway. It’s been a year since you moved to Seoul, transferred to another school and disappeared from my life in general. It’s been a year since you changed your phone number and refused to read my messages and mails. You’ve never been a very active texter, so at first it didn’t sting that much, but at this point I can clearly tell that you’re ignoring me on purpose. So I decided to write a letter to the future you, because hopefully once you get this letter in 4 years or so, it won’t hurt either of us as much as it does hurt me right now. The past one has been a difficult year for me, a very lonely one. I hope you’re coping with this better than I do, since I’ve been crying a lot and I don’t want you to be sad. I always thought that you’re the cutest when you smile, I have probably more polaroids of that eye-crinkling, toothy grin of yours than of anything else. Whatever. I will probably put all my polaroids in a box and stuff it under my bed, anyway, even the ones we took together at Disneyland.
Jeongguk remembers, the best birthday present of all time: their joined family trip to Tokyo Disneyland to celebrate his and Jimin’s twelfth birthdays together. It was an expensive trip and their parents had been saving up money for it for over two years or so, but in the end it was worth it, as it was the most memorable, most magical birthday gift either of them had ever gotten. Not only was Disneyland cool with all the bright lights and watercolor wonder, but that was the trip where Jeongguk saw the most brilliant smile of Jimin, ever. It was during that trip, probably, and most precisely during that night of them spinning in teacups, laughing at the blurry world around them, that Jeongguk fell in love with that happy smile. That was the night when they took at least a hundred selcas and numerous polaroid pictures, and that was the night when they bought their matching Nightmare Before Christmas keychains; a tiny Jack for Jeongguk and an even tinier Sally for Jimin. Jeongguk shoots a glance towards his bag in the other seat of the van where, hooked into the zipper, there hangs the Jack keychain, looking almost as nice as it was when it was new, clearly cherished. He embraces himself and quietly scrolls down to read the remaining part of the letter.
Before I forget! Your Mom told me that you became a trainee at a small company, and I wish you the bestest of luck!! When we went to karaoke bars, or when we watched The Little Mermaid or Titanic together and you sang all the songs, I already knew that you’ll become famous one day. You have a really pretty voice, Jeonggukie, and I’m glad you’re following your dreams. I just wish… Now I hesitated a bit about whether to write this down or not, but you’ll read this only in the future, so I guess it doesn’t matter. So. I just wish you didn’t leave me behind. Or at least told me what did I do so wrong that you had to cut me off completely? I was confused at first, then angry, but now I’m just sad. And I miss you, stupid! I miss you coming over at weekends, I miss sleepovers when we talk about our secrets. Remember, when I told you my secret that I’m scared of butterflies? I still haven’t told that to anyone else. I miss the glow in the dark stickers on your ceiling. I miss tutoring you in maths and being unable to decide whether to be mad at you for doodling the moon and starry skies instead of proving the Pythagorean theorem, or to be amazed by your drawing talents? Remember the time when we walked that old lady’s dog for pocket money, and in the end you gifted her a portrait of the doggo, and the old lady cried in happiness? Your talents are really something, Jeonggukie. I’m sure that once you’re an idol, your music will bring tears to people’s eyes, too.
Jeongguk blinks rapidly, and finds his eyes prickling and wet. His gaze nervously flickers to Seokjin, to see if the manager noticed anything unusual, but Seokjin is immersed in his phone, probably checking the news articles about the press conference. Jeongguk returns to his phone screen, as well, dabbing at the corner of his eyes in order to not ruin his carefully applied makeup. He has a photoshoot in an hour and he has to pretend, at least, that he is calm and collected and immaculate, and not on the verge of falling apart from a whirlwind of memories and emotions.
And do you remember when we sneaked into the kitchen right before your seventh birthday party, because we wanted to see your cake? It was Iron Man themed and I was sooo envious! Remember how I accidentally knocked it off the table and then you ate half of it up from the floor while I stood there, wailing helplessly? Or when we went to that river and you pushed me into it and I scraped my knee, and I cried so hard that you had to kiss it better to shut me up?
Oh, does Jeongguk remember very vividly. The memory brings a blush to his cheeks to this day; the way Jimin immediately went silent and stared at Jeongguk with warm, fond, red-rimmed eyes and a sheepish little smile.
We both were such crybabies, weren’t we? But I liked how you always knew how to make me smile. Wow, I’m rambling, I don’t even know why I wrote all this stuff down. Whatever. Probably you’ll delete this email as soon as you see that it’s from me, anyway. Point is, I miss you and Busan is boring without you. I tried to watch a horror movie alone, but it’s terrible when you’re not here to hold hands with. It’s just plain scary and I don’t like that. I tried to make pancakes the other day, too, but it’s no fun when you’re not here to taste test it and complain about how I burned the bottom. I hope you have tons of fun in Seoul, though. I hope you eat fancy pancakes and not just instant ramyeon…
If you read the email this far, then yay, and can I ask you a question? Did you cut me off your life for the same reason you never answered my confession letter?
Either way, I guess this email is utter nonsense, but I’m gonna send it. Once you debut as an idol, I’ll cheer on you, I promise!
Yours truly,
Jimin
There are too many incoherent thoughts in Jeongguk’s head right now, but the only things his brain seems to register are these two words: confession letter. What confession letter? What is going on? Before Jeongguk could mull over this any longer and swirl into the depths of total confusion, a notification pops up on his phone.
You've got mail! Unread emails (1)
It is dated back to four years ago, as well. With his pulse skyrocketing he realizes that it must be another one from Jimin. He opens it to read, then stares at it silently, unblinkingly for a long time.
Jeonggukie,
Honestly, fuck you. You left me without a word, without an explanation, without a chance to clarify things… I miss you so much, you asshole brat. You didn’t even give me the opportunity to tell you in person how much you mean to me. You still are my best friend, you little shit, but also my worst heartbreak. Damnit, Jeonggukie! Why did you have to do this?? My eyes are all puffy because of you! I can’t remember a time I cried this much, not even when Daejong broke my Hulk figurine. Your Mom told me that you’re super busy, and you don’t talk to her that much, either, because you barely have time to breathe between school and vocal lessons and dance practice and etiquette lessons, but… if you’d just replied to one of my texts, that would’ve been really nice. I’m worried about you, stupid!
Please take care and don’t fall sick! Flu season is coming, so don’t forget to always wear a scarf when you go out.
Love you.
Jeongguk tilts his head against the seat, staring at the ceiling of the van with darkened bulletproof windows. Love you, Jimin wrote. Fuck you, Jimin wrote. Jeongguk deserved only the latter. He has a photoshoot in less than half an hour but he cannot stop the sob racking through his body, he cannot stop the tears that are flowing down his cheeks, ruining his makeup and making Seokjin panic.
It is in the middle of the photoshoot when a notification – You've got mail! Unread emails (1) – pops up on his phone, and for a while Jeongguk is too busy to notice it.
~ 💌 ~
His dorm room is as empty and soulless as he feels. The photoshoot was long and draining, the photographer instructing him strictly, making him bend into uncomfortable – but artistic – poses, he was shot from strange, unique angles in front of ocean-colored satin backgrounds and glitter. Jeongguk falls onto his bed and hesitates to open the most recent email. His body is exhausted and he does not feel emotionally ready, either, but he knows that if he does not do it now, the thought will eat him alive for the rest of the night. Despite Jisoo’s constant reprimands and the bitter coat of anti-biting nail polish, he anxiously raises his thumb to his mouth while tapping on the mailbox to open it.
The air gets punched out his lungs and his stomach plummets when he sees the date. It is from 3 years ago. And it is the shortest, yet most painful one so far.
Dearest Jeonggukie,
I already wrote this down in my confession letter long ago, but since you never brought that letter up, ever, I figured you didn’t want to talk about it. But I’m gonna write it down again, because I thought about it a lot and I need to confirm it: I don’t care if this was the reason why you stopped talking to me, it won’t change my feelings. I love you, I still do, and I miss you dearly.
Wish you the best,
Jimin
~ 💌 ~
Jeongguk receives another email three days later, in the middle of his comeback promotions. He does not dare to open it for another two days. His nails are bitten into shreds, his cuticles bloody, and the dark circles under his eyes have grown in size so much recently that Jisoo needs an extra ten minutes to cover them up before every performance.
Dearest Jeonggukie,
Okay, here we go. Jeongguk heaves out a sigh, his thumb hovering over the screen while the other is clutching the Jack keychain, just to have something to hold on, to tether him to reality. The mail is from 2 years ago.
I forgot to congratulate you for your successful debut!!! You’re officially a singer now! You look even better than I expected, you seriously are so handsome~ And you look much more confident, too. Where did my shy video game-addict Jeonggukie go??! All I can see is a cool idol who can sing and dance like an angel~ AND now you went viral, even!! Everywhere I go, I see your face on billboards or your name on charts, I hear your songs played in convenience stores and parking lots, wow, you’re such a celebrity! Please do a chicken ad, soon~ kekekeke
Jeongguk’s tightly clenched fist around the keychain is slowly uncurling as a smile tugs on his lips, the familiar texting style of Jimin makes his heart weep in joy. The smile on his face falls, though, once he gathers the courage to scroll down to read the next paragraph.
Seeing and hearing you everywhere sort of makes me feel like you are with me again, you know? When you left me, I didn’t know what to do with myself for a very long time. I still don’t know sometimes. I feel lost sometimes, Jeonggukie. And there’s not a day that goes by without me regretting that party. That was the last time we were together and that was the day when I hurt you, wasn’t it? The way I reacted, I guess? I still don’t know for sure, but I'm sorry, for whatever I did that hurt you so deeply that you had to remove yourself from me entirely. I'm so sorry! I wish I could do something to turn back time, to make things right! I really do! But probably it's too late now, isn't it...? Remember, when we were 9 and made a pinky promise to always stay by each other's side and help each other when things get hard? I've always wanted to be that person for you, the person you can lean on and count on, who gives you comfort and relief, but I guess this time I was the one who screwed things up, wasn't I? To me, you've always been that person. I have lots of friends but you've always been special. I can't believe it took me so many years to write this down but it’s the truth. When in the future you'll read this mail, I'm 100% sure that it will still be true. Maybe one day we will meet again and I can apologize to your face, and I can soothe your pain and tell you that everything's alright, and we can be friends again.
I still love you, though. I wish I didn’t, it would make things 98% easier… I fucking hate my stupid heart sometimes.
I miss you lots. I always watch your performances but you feel so distant. It’s hard to accept for me that the person in the tv is the same Jeonggukie who read One Piece in my bedroom dressed in a Pikachu onesie. Once your schedule is not so busy anymore, maybe come back to Busan for a little vacation…? I’d be there. Maybe this year’s Chuseok, will you be free? We could belatedly celebrate all your birthdays we missed together.
Yours truly,
Jimin
Jeongguk inhales sharply then releases his breath in a sigh, tearing his gaze away from the screen. However, before he could process everything he just read, the now-familiar notification shows up: You've got mail! Unread emails (1)
This one is from 1 year ago.
Dearest Jeonggukie,
You probably don’t remember and even more likely don’t care, at all, but I need to get this off my chest. Daejong, the girl who confessed her love to me in high school… we had a high school reunion today and she admitted to steal the confession letter I wrote to you and throw it into the trash. Fuck, I feel like a clown. All these years I thought that you’d gotten my letter and just ignored it, preferring to remain friends… All these years I thought that my love for you is unrequited and hopeless, that when on the night of that fucking party you got drunk and kissed me, you were just fooling around, aware of and mocking my feelings… But well, turns out, Daejong stole that letter out of jealousy when she saw me putting it onto your desk. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I’d find it funny if only you were here with me to laugh about it. But you’re at some awards show right now, collecting trophies left and right, meanwhile here I am, laying on my bed and wondering how you would’ve reacted if you’ve actually gotten my damn letter. I’m a total loser, am I not? I’ll send that letter to you right now, okay? Why not, right? It’s not like it would matter. You’re an A-list idol, the worshipped golden rookie, and probably have forgotten even my name by now. Whatever. I hope that if I share the content of that letter with you, maybe I finally will be able to move on. So here, my cheesy lame confession letter from about six years ago that you’ve never received even though you should have, but probably it’s for the better, I guess:
Dear Jeonggukie, this might will gross you out, or maybe you’ll just shrug it off, or maybe (I hope) it’ll make you happy, I don’t know yet, but I need to tell you that I find you really cute and cool at the same time, I admire your determination when it comes to fighting bosses or winning a basketball game during PE class, I like it when you let me grab your hand when we watch scary movies and that you always know what to say when I’m feeling down. Also, I think you’re really talented and I love to hear you sing! This is my first ever love letter to anyone, so I apologize if it’s not that good… I have yet to find the right words to describe my love for you. It’s not just that I like the way your eyes look like when the sunset paints them golden, it’s not just that my heart felt all weird when you noticed that I’m cold and gave me your sweater (it smelled so good!!), and it’s not just that I like to play with your hair because it’s so fluffy. It’s not just physical attraction, you know. We’ve been best friends since the first grade of middle school and I always imagined my future with you right beside me. I want to grow old with you and spend the rest of my life waking up in the same room as you. I really hope you’ll accept my feelings and go out with me, even if only in secret! With love, always and forever, Park Jimin
“S-shit—” Jeongguk’s breathing is ragged, and his hands are shaking so much that he cannot even see the screen clearly. The Music Core staff knocks on the door of his dressing room, and finds him hunched over his phone, quivering bodily. Jisoo has to redo his makeup. The performance he gives is half-hearted at best, the cameras catch the gloss on his lips, the sculpted lines of his thighs and the regrets swimming in his eyes. On that same day a slandering article – with the title “Jeon Jeongguk, South-Korea’s current brightest superstar lets down his fans with this lukewarm stage! Euphorias are outraged! Watch it now!” – gains momentum and Seokjin freaks out over it, but Jeongguk feels so spent and numb and shaken that he cannot even bother to read it once.
~ 💌 ~
He does not check his notifications for the rest of the day. He writes lyrics locking himself up in his dorm’s closet, because that is the most comfortable place for picking up shards of broken dreams, and his heart bleeds onto paper in the shape of letters and words.
All this is no coincidence
Just, just, by my feeling
The whole world is different from yesterday
Just, just, with your joy
When you called me
I became your flower
As if we were waiting
We bloom until we ache
Maybe it’s the providence of the universe
It just had to be that
You know, I know
You are me, I am you
It is kind of bittersweet, to feel so miserable and then write such hopeful lyrics. He gives the title of this newest song Serendipity and while sending it to Seokjin for feedback, he is close to throwing up, heart writhing in his chest. While waiting for Seokjin to respond, he opens Instagram out of habit.
Staring at the picture, Jeongguk suddenly realizes what he has to do. What he should have done a million years ago. It is a terrifying option, but this is the right one, he feels it in his marrow. Hesitantly, knots sitting in his guts, he taps on Jimin’s username to get access to his profile. Jimin’s account is still not private, his DMs are open.
Jeongguk swallows tightly and rubs his eyes. On his new title track he gave the listeners the advice to stop running away from problems, but can he actually do the same? Is it too late?
He taps on the button, the lump in his throat rendering him breathless. His cuticles are wounded, his eyes are bloodshot, his heart is heavy and yearning and stupidly hopeful, and his fingers are trembling so much that he cannot type properly.
je0n158 [12:36 AM]
hey
its jeongguk
please don’t block me
i know that this is sudden and all but i got your mails! all of them. the love letter, too. and look, i need to get this off my chest, too: i wasn’t fooling around when i kissed you at that party. i thought you were fooling around with me… fuck, jimin hyung, i’m such an idiot. the biggest idiot in this world. you don’t have to forgive me, if i were you i probably wouldn’t forgive myself, either, but please at least hear me out! you do deserve an explanation, after all, and your mails made me realize that for five fucking years i punished you and also myself for a godforsaken misunderstanding. please can we talk? my private phone number, you can call me anytime: 01X-XXXX-XXXX
Jeongguk rests his forehead on his palm, groaning. Maybe he should not have written ‘fuck’, twice. What if Jimin finds his messages too aggressive? Maybe he should not have greeted Jimin with a ‘hey’. What if Jimin finds it rude? Maybe this was an overall bad idea and Jeongguk should not have written anything, at all. What if Jimin is completely done with him at this point and does not want to talk things out? A sudden idea strikes him and he sends the lyrics of Serendipity to Jimin before he could change his mind.
je0n158 [12:41 AM]
i know this sounds very lame but basically 99% of my discography is about you
this is my most recent wip btw
what do you think? if you like the lyrics as it is, i’m gonna record the melody tomorrow, too, and send the full song to you after
only if you wanna, of course
sorry
i’m an idiot
Jeongguk is in the middle of lamenting over what to write next in order to be able to convey his feelings like a normal human being when the message pops up, almost giving him a heart attack.
min__min13 [12:55 AM]
jeonggukie
gonna call you now. is that okay?
With heart drumming in his ears like crazy and the warmth of hope blossoming in his chest like a sunflower, Jeongguk types out an enthusiastic ‘of course!!!’ They have a lot to talk about, really a lot.
Incoming call (unknown number)
Jeongguk picks it up after the first ring and when Jimin’s voice says hello, cracking with nervousness but sounding just as desperately hopeful as Jeongguk feels, Jeongguk dares to entertain the thought that maybe his dorm’s closet is the most comfortable place for new beginnings, as well.
~ 💌 ~
{TWO DAYS LATER}
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