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Jisung turns his head and looks around the corner in the hallway, he’s alone, God knows for how long, they’re always creeping with people. Jisung’s been waiting for minutes just to be alone for thirty meek seconds. When he has quickly determined that he finally is, he takes a deep breath and presses call on his screen.
“Channie—guess what?” He whispers, still checking for people, one of the managers from another floor passes him, and he smiles at him, innocently. Well, he is innocent, but he has the kind of face and expression that always makes him seem mischievous or up to something.
“What?” The line crackles, Jisung’s biting the inside of his cheeks to pieces.
“I’m having a reunion, uh, in a few weeks.”
“Reunion? With who?”
“Guess…”
“I dunno,”
“Ah—” Jisung groans—rolls his eyes so far they run the risk of getting stuck at the back of his head, “You’re really not gonna play along?”
“I woke up like, two seconds ago, I don’t have the cognitive function to guess,” Chan answers with a huff—he’s clearly not mad at his friend, disturbed or dissatisfied perhaps, seeing he’s been woken up from deep slumber. Jisung decides not to comment on the fact that it’s far past noon, it’s a conversation for another time.
“Felix.” Jisung says, blunt, “Felix, I’m seeing Felix again,”
“Your Felix?”
“Yeah,” Jisung answers with a deep breath.
A part of him likes the implication that it’s his Felix, it’s not. But he guesses it’s become one of many many inside jokes amongst his friends. He’s excited and nervous, and has no idea if his friend on the other side of the phone will laugh or coo or express concern—he doesn’t know either how he’s supposed to react to the fact. A part of him wants to thrust his arm over his head and exclaim like he’s won something, another part looks at the floor with big eyes imagining how nice it would be to crawl into a fetal position and cry.
Down the hall, Jisung sees his manager, he curses to himself—cups his hand around his phone, and whispers, “I’ll talk to you later, you know my manager has that constipated grumpy expression again,”
To be fair, he always looks constipated and grumpy—but Jisung is in no mood to make it a reality, so he hangs up before Chan has time to say even one word to him, immediately straightens his back and poses with his hand against his forehead, like a soldier.
“Jang Hyunsoo, Sir, Jisung at your service,” He stomps on the ground once. The forty-something-man rolls his eyes like how Jisung rolls his eyes, so far back they’ll get stuck, and Jisung snickers at the sight, clings to him when he’s done playing.
“How do you have so much energy, huh? You’re here and there and you are always running away and before I can scold you, you come back like you miss me more than anything, ”
“But I do miss you, don’t you miss me?” Jisung pleads with his eyes, and his manager huffs and changes the topic without further thought, asking if he wants coffee before they continue with their day. Packed schedule ahead, like always. Jisung’s manager likes to pretend he gets annoyed and bothered by Jisung, but he’s much more fond than one would like to think—they’ve been, what Jisung likes to call them—partners, for almost five years, you tend to grow to like each other in that time. Jisung always says he’ll die without him, and Hyunsoo always replies that he shouldn’t, the paperwork will be too burdensome.
They continue on their merry little way, Jisung clings to his manager's arm and babbles about something that is neither related to work nor important. His manager listens and pretends he doesn’t care even when he does enjoy these small conversations they have. There are some recordings and a small meeting to attend, Jisung needs some clothes fitted. Then he can continue with his other work.
In the evening Chan rolls around the company, he’s tired and from the looks of it hungover, he always gets like this when he stays up for hours and hours on end working. Right now, Jisung doesn’t really attempt to work, even when he knows he’s got a long list, that never seems to end, with things to do. At the top it’s the last song for his next album, the deadline was two days ago—he’s been promised another week, that’s why he has his manager on his ass, Chan on his ass, even the nice personnel down in the cafeteria asks how the new music is going. So they work for a little bit, Chan tries to bounce ideas back and forth and help him along, and Jisung smiles and thanks him, and of course he tries, even if he knows very well it’ll be a minute until he asks the older friend—and fellow producer if they can’t take a break and play a game or three of Go Fish.
Jisung is exceptionally good at convincing Chan the break is both well deserved and justified, even if he truthfully has done near nothing.
Of course, Chan knows all about Jisung’s little mind games, but still caves in and agrees to a pause.
“What’s up with you anyway?” Chan huffs in between asking for a six and being sent to Go Fish.
“What?”
“Duh, guess? Something is wrong with that creative brain of yours,”
“I know,” He stares at the cards in his hand, trying to deduce whatever cards Chan might be sitting on, “I think it’s dead in here, I sit down to write—and nothing, you know. Makes me wanna throw up,” Jisung looks up at Chan between breaths, the friend is hunched over—curly brown locks a mess on his head, and the eyebags under his eyes are prominent and never seems to go away. Even if they, in this room, are idol and producer, with Jisung being the idol and Chan the producer, there’s no one Jisung looks up to more than Chan, he’s been there through thick and thin, and Jisung wouldn’t ask for anyone else in the world. He’s hardworking and persistent, much more so than Jisung, he works and doesn’t stop until he’s proud of himself, even if it means working until six AM and sleeping too little.
“Wanna call over Bee tomorrow?” Chan asks, doesn’t look up from his own deck of cards. Jisung nods, and even if Chan isn’t looking at him, he nods too in response and whispers that he will.
“Where is that dirty animal, feels like I haven’t seen him in days, like, two whole days,” Jisung mutters. Bee—who is professionally known as Changbin—is Jisung’s second right-hand man, he would say. He sees the studio more than he sees his own apartment, which is why his absence is confusing. It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the earth, it’s really not normal for him to be gone for such long periods—especially not here, where two days is a long period of time.
Bee doesn’t like to be called Bee, but by now the nickname has spread so far through the company and amongst friends, even the baristas working the cafe in the reception write Bee on his cups, and fellow artists and producers call him that. Changbin always scoffs and huffs and knits his eyebrows together when Jisung walks up to him and giggles “Bee,” into his ear. Of course, he should’ve known this would’ve happened when he told Chan and Jisung over four bottles of shared soju that he, for two weeks straight, in second grade, went to school dressed in a bumblebee costume. It definitely didn’t help his case when he provided photo evidence either. They still crack up at the idea of him in that costume, and have, for three years in a row tried to coax him back into one during Halloween, they’re yet to be successful, even if Changbin admittedly probably doesn’t mind the jokes as much as he makes it out as he does, there’s always something that twinkles in his eyes when he scoffs and huffs like he’s the big angry scary wolf.
Lately, Changbin has been different, he’s easier and calmer, and glows a little more, not just appearance-wise, no, even his aura, if Jisung can claim that’s what it is, glows—something he usually doesn’t display. And since Chan is a genius when it comes to knowing everything about everyone, Jisung patiently waits for him to spill what’s going on.
“Likely caught up in some guy, he took out a vacation day yesterday, called in sick with the flu today,”
“Oh…?” The surprised noise Jisung lets out is a clear indication for Chan to continue, but he sighs, utterly defeated.
“That’s all I know, motherfucker is secretive,”
“Ugh, that’s so boring, not even a name,”
“On the topic of guys, and since you’re not telling, Lee Felix huh?”
Chan sports a smug smile, and when Jisung catches it, he can’t help but feel that the corners of his mouth are tugging upwards. He is a little nervous, his stomach feels funny at the thought. There is a tiny part of Jisung’s brain that still works, and it’s consumed by Felix. Like earlier, he isn’t sure if the proper reaction means he should be delighted, in shambles, or even neutral. He really doesn’t know, so he smiles a little but knits his eyebrows together—he’s happy he guesses, but doesn’t escape from the troubling feeling.
“Yup, it’s a magazine shoot, they wanted a picture of all the models for the cover,”
"Wow, fucking coincidence right?”
“Guess, ‘s so weird, don’t know how to feel about it,”
“How long has it been? Since you saw each other?”
Jisung hisses and leans back to think about it, well—
Apart from passing glances at ceremonies or shows, must be years at this point. They had never made an effort to talk or catch up on these things, and Jisung has always felt grateful singers and actors are rarely mixed like that in the crowd, or even the green rooms. But that they never accidentally ran into each other because of mutual acquaintances or even out of chance, it’s a miracle, Jisung doesn’t know if he would’ve been able to just ignore Felix, even if he loved to think he could.
The funny thing about Jisung and Felix is that they knew each other long before anyone had any idea who they were. Long before their names jumped from mouth to mouth and their faces started appearing in media. They knew each other when Jisung swept his bangs all onto one side because he thought it looked so good, when he wore seemingly unironic graphic tees with nerdy catchphrases and characters from his favorite animes—he shivers even today thinking about how people saw him in public like that, and his horrified every time he visits home and his parents bring out old pictures of him.
Even to this day, Jisung can’t really recall when he actually met Felix, if it was coincidental, if it was at some random computer café or if it was perhaps something more romantic and fateful. If it’s possible to be romantic when you’re both gross teenagers? Because that’s all he really remembers, he had just become a real teen, one day there was no Felix, and one day he was just there—next to him. Whenever it now was, Jisung has learned it's easiest to simply part his life into three different periods.
His life pre-Felix, his life with Felix, and his life post-Felix.
Neither one of these eras are better than the other—before he knew Felix, life was neither bad nor good. He was a scrawny preteen, with no friends with the same interests as him, ignorance was bliss, so to say—he wasn’t aware of how perfect his life would become when he would eventually meet the boy, and how miserable he’d be once they parted. Post-Felix is the complete opposite, it’s the memories that sometimes plague and stab at him, it’s the knowledge that he, realistically, wouldn't have what he has today without losing Felix, no fame, no Chan and Changbin, no middle-aged manager that loves him and hates that he loves him. It’s nearly impossible to ignore that fact when Jisung thinks of it—and he guesses he hasn’t had the chance to thank Felix for it yet, of course, Felix hasn’t thanked Jisung for anything either, so maybe it’s fair.
Being with Felix though—Jisung can’t help but look back at those days with some bittersweet longing, before it all, when it was just them.
They met—as people surprisingly do. Felix fell in love with Jisung when he still swept his bangs onto one side and wore the horrifying t-shirts. Jisung can’t understand how it happened in the first place, when he reminisces about the old memories or simply sees a picture of them. Felix was just as gorgeous back then as he is now, was, and is maybe still out of his league. He loved to be in the sun—skin always tanned, face riddled with dark freckles, and nose always a little red and sunburned. He had dark eyes that blended too well with his face, and long eyelashes that Jisung spent hours counting. Felix was lithe but strong, he moved around with confidence and sophistication, it’s unlike anyone Jisung has ever met.
Felix did a lot of stuff when he was younger—from soccer and the chess club, to dancing, and martial arts, but amongst all those interests, his eyes would shine a little brighter when he mentioned acting . “For real Jisung, that’s what I wanna do!!” Jisung always believed in him, if Felix wanted something he would fight until he succeeded. Jisung thought of him particularly much last year, when Felix ended up winning his first award, Jisung was oddly proud, he thinks if he wasn’t in the crowd being observed by cameras and fans, he would’ve given him a standing ovation. Not because they were friends or so, not even to be professional, but because he was there when Felix told him about theater and acting for the first time—and then, he was there and had the privilege to see how far he had come.
Jisung is upset that all his firsts were with Felix, because it was Felix, nothing would ever compare. His first kiss at fifteen, dating in secret, and both giggling when the boyfriend question came up between them for the first time, because it was so exciting.
They were too infatuated with each other, it was sick—Jisung spent every possible second with Felix, like he did with him. Whether this meant they would spend an entire day practically hibernating under the sheets sleeping, or getting crushed in video games hunched over at dawn in Jisung’s childhood bedroom. Rolling around the sand on the beaches during summer and fighting in the water, cooking food together even when they’re both hopeless at it. Making promises and whispering secrets. Jisung would sit and write the cheesiest love songs he could come up with, all about Felix, but don’t get Felix wrong, he loved too. Loved hard and loved big. Mapped Jisung’s body for hours on end with cold hands and unwavering eyes, kissing moles and scars from childhood. Felix liked to mumble odd and out-of-nowhere love confessions, in the middle of the night or in public. “My love for you is like, going to a pumpkin patch in October, or getting away from the city and seeing the stars again,” Which didn’t make sense to Jisung until he eventually goes to a pumpkin patch, two days before Halloween, and looks upon the sky in the evening, far out on the countryside and admires the many constellations painted on the dark blue sky. Then, yeah he gets it. Felix always said their names were written in the sky, that they were fated—Jisung always hoped it was true.
To cut to the chase—Jisung’s first heartbreak was also with Felix. Which was—traumatic and terrible, and Jisung probably thought it would kill him.
Jisung was seventeen when he signed to the company he’s currently with, he wasn’t really their superstar, and he, now in hindsight, knows he didn’t put in far enough effort to succeed. So it was slow and tedious. He knew it was rare for people to plummet into fame right after debut, but Jisung could barely stand the first few months, but after his first EP was out, it wasn’t long until Felix was thrown into stardom—a few parts as an extra here and there, until he was streetcasted no less, for an agency—he was there for a month before he started appearing in ads and fashion shows.
They were still barely adults, their brains were nowhere near fully developed, and there, at the brink of adulthood and a new chapter in their life—it was time to make decisions.
Felix came to be the first one to make a choice. He sat down one day, at the edge of Jisung’s bed. Lips trembling and eyes so glossy one would think they were painted. He thought it was the best—for the both of them, he emphasized, that as they grew, as people—they did so apart from each other. Felix said he needed to devote his life to the job—because that was how he did things, a hundred percent engaged, head in the game at all times, he wanted to focus on gigs and shoots and auditions. “It’s not just me! Jisung, you’re putting off music, how are you gonna become big if you don’t put in the work?”
He did everything he could to defend himself, defend his actions, and defend the decision he had made. Jisung made no point in fighting him—deep down he had a hunch that Felix was right about it all, but it didn’t make it hurt an ounce less.
“So you want to break up?” Jisung had whispered instead—impossibly sour and bitter.
“I don’t want to, but I think…I think we have to?” Felix had argued, but even he sounded unsure, even if he tried to emphasize that they just had to do this. Like there was simply no other choice they could make.
In the end, Jisung would’ve loved for Felix to be wrong—that he would’ve crawled back and begged for Jisung back or something, but he didn’t, because, he was right, as much as Jisung didn’t want it to be.
They broke up, and then—well, they started climbing, and they were climbing fast. Jisung wonders if the breakup itself was the indirect cause, or if the hurt helped them both work hard to forget it—make it worth it. Felix went on to be cast in one of the biggest films of the year after their breakup, he wasn’t the lead actor, but it sure helped him get contracts signed and the hearts of the public won over—Jisung had to live with seeing his stupid, pretty, face plastered on a hundred billboards.
But, the breakup wasn’t only good for Felix. Jisung?
Well, he contacted Chan and Changbin—they were already producers and writers at his company, but they hadn’t met for more than a greeting or awkward elevator ride before he started getting ready for his second album. Together, they helped Jisung write songs like he never quite had before, and helped him channel sorrow, heartbreak, and anger into something much more. In the end, Jisung came out with hands stained black from the charcoal of his pencil, music so raw and bloody it was almost embarrassing.
And well, the public has always loved tragic love stories. Jisung wasn’t aware his music could reach such heights, claiming achievements someone so new as him in the industry could never dream of.
Sometimes when he scrolls SNS he stumbles over posts and conspiracies from fans, who wonder who could have possibly broken his heart for him to sing such songs. He can’t possibly say that it’s Felix. It’s a secret he has kept to himself since they parted for the last time, teary-eyed and bitterly wishing they could’ve had an outcome living out a happier life together. Almost no one knows at least. Chan and Changbin are the only people he’s ever told, he spilled it over the same four bottles of soju that fished out the bumblebee secret from Changbin.
Today he holds no grudges, why would he? Felix was right, they grew, did so apart. Now he’s happy, and he assumes Felix is happy too. So yeah, that life-changing decision they had to make, was maybe one of few that actually didn’t turn out disastrous—unless you count the hours spent crying and wanting to die in bed. Jisung still wonders, to this day, how life would be now if they were still together, never broke up at all, if he would be happier or if he’d still have the career he has now. Felix for sure wonders about the same thing from time to time, even if he never admits it to anyone.
“Years,” Jisung finally answers, he had almost forgotten it, stuck in a moment of thinking, “I haven’t said a word to him since we broke up, we didn’t want to stay friends, we just wanted to—move on,” He still smiles, for some stupid reason. Thinking about Felix.
“Did you ever?” Chan looks at Jisung. Move on. Did you ever move on?
“I don’t think so,”
Maybe that’s the entire reason there’s a part of him that’s so excited—maybe it’s the same exact reason he’s so nervous he could probably burst into flames if he thinks about it too much.
“Heavy man, say that to Bee tomorrow he’s gonna force you to write a song about it,”
“Fuck,” Jisung laughs.
Their well-deserved break soon comes to an end—Jisung and Chan end up working a little more until Jisung eventually ventures home somewhere between midnight and three A.M. Tomorrow Chan says he will be on Jisung’s ass to finish their shit, Chan says Changbin will definitely be on his ass to finish it too. Jisung wonders, as he’s walking towards the elevators, if he bats with his eyelashes and begs they’ll be nice to him. (Probably not.)
Jisung is only excited for the day to come because it’s much more fun to interrogate Changbin about his life in person than in any other situation, and because, well in a world where two days is a long time, it’s simply been too long since they all sat down together and worked.
Like maybe, five whole days.
When Jisung arrives at his apartment he quietly walks into his bedroom, he empties his desk on the small dresser by his door—there are mostly stray papers and other trash he can never really be bothered to clean out. He takes out his computer, along with his headphones and a magazine he nicked from a stylist. He is a little embarrassed to have it, more embarrassed because of the reason he has it to begin with.
Right there on page seven, is Felix's face—his makeup is pretty and his expression is professional, Jisung thinks it’s a shame they have covered up all of Felix’s freckles, and all the small, pretty imperfections on Felix’s face. He reads the small article on the page and admires all the pictures.
For a long time, Jisung avoided pretty much anything with Felix’s name on it. Like it was the plague—refused to watch films and shows Felix was in, even when Felix’s part was nothing more than an extra or one with a line or two. He turned his head when his face was on billboards—just about anything. Once his anger had subsided back then, Jisung moved on to a state where his mind simply stopped noticing Felix—it was most definitely some weird coping mechanism, like if he pretended Felix didn’t exist, he didn’t have to be sad or troubled. It stopped feeling like a knife was plunged through his chest—which was a positive, he assumes.
Felix will always shine the brightest when he is among other people, and even on a page in a magazine, Felix is breathtaking. Jisung stares at him both guilty and shamelessly, which might be an oxymoron, he misses counting his eyelashes and kissing his freckles, threading his fingers in Felix’s silky hair—last time he met him it was black, for the past few years it’s been a nice blond—Jisung feels the color suits him like it’s natural.
It itches in Jisung to get ahold of Felix’s number—in a moment of heartbreak after they had broken up, Jisung deleted nearly all evidence of Felix from his phone—it included his number, text conversations, just about every single social media and over a hundred photos. He wishes he didn’t—if he had a bottle or two of soju there’s no doubt he would’ve tried calling him up, if all went wrong, he could easily blame it on a tipsy booty call, and if things went well—nothing to complain about. In the end, he holds back, of all the things he’s learned over the years, it’s that patience is a virtue. So he waits.
In the meantime, he finishes that last song for the album, with some minor (major) help from Chan and Bee. He tries to work past the slump he’s in, which doesn’t seem to want to let him go just yet. He stalks through Felix’s insta profile once every two days—always in the middle of the night—as if it makes it less embarrassing. Sometimes he goes so far down he hits posts from before they broke up, which is a surprise. Most of his earlier posts have been deleted, probably since long, all that remains is a few selfies or whatever pictures were deemed as aesthetic enough when he started the purge. One picture, in particular, stands out the most—it’s in black and white, and Felix is young—five or so years ago, the reason Jisung recognizes it immediately is that it’s taken in his old room. He’d recognize those wallpapers anywhere. It's odd, but Jisung smiles.
Felix captioned the picture with “One day I’ll become a superstar!” He’s winking and smiling, and the comments are flooded with fans like Jisung—who stalks out of curiosity, they’re all replying to his caption with comments alike, “Look how far you’ve come! You are a superstar!”
Jisung has to do it again, hold back a little. Has to convince himself it’s definitely a bad idea to comment that he’s a fan of the wallpaper.
He waits—patience is a virtue.
And it always pays off.
The next thing Jisung knows it’s mid-November, he’s sitting in a make-up chair with three stylists and artists around him, all pampering him and making him look all pretty. Through the door he comes—Lee Felix, superstar, actor, and model, his hair is a mess from the harsh autumn weather and his cheeks and nose are flushed red from the cold. He comes waddling through the threshold, and although Jisung thinks he doesn’t notice him at first, it’s not long until they make eye contact through the mirror. They both avert their eyes before either one of them has time to greet one another before Felix is asked to sit down. He does so, in the chair next to Jisung.
There is an obvious looming, odd, feeling that settles between them. They end up greeting, for politeness and profession, but not much more than that—to everyone in the room they look exactly like strangers, which—after all these years, they maybe are again. Jisung wants a minute to talk to Felix—it’s really his only wish today, but he wants that minute to be private.
Every other second, Jisung feels his eyes move over to Felix’s straight posture, he’s used to it all, chatty voices and brushes and fingers all up in his face, he laughs and hums along to all the music they play. Even Jisung forgets he’s staring, until Felix is suddenly looking at him too—offers a ginger smile, both shy and a little awkward, and Jisung offers him one back.
The very moment he is done, one of the directors ushers him into the shoot, one model is done—Jisung is next. All their shoots are individual, except for a few pairs, and of course the planned group photo for the cover. When Jisung leaves the room he feels a pair of brown eyes follow him, it feels good—like he’s wanted, despite not seeing Felix for years, it’s a sensation impossible to forget.
Jisung isn’t entirely done with his shoot, even if he has to admit it’s going by a lot faster than he assumed—the photographer is skilled, when Felix comes sneaking with the staff to watch it. They’re not alone in the room, but they might as well be. Felix’s shirt is cut sinfully low, his makeup is gorgeous, and his eyes grow big watching Jisung.
“Eyes on the camera please,” Someone reminds Jisung, he drags them away from Felix, albeit reluctantly.
He’s there for another few minutes, and wraps up thanking the crew—his manager suggests heading back to the green room to rest a little, but Jisung says he wants to stay for just a minute, watch—observe. He is tired, and wouldn’t mind at all taking a quick nap before he has to be in front of the cameras again. But now Felix is up there, he’s natural, it’s crazy to see him in this light, and Jisung is fascinated. He doesn’t take his eyes off him for even a second during Felix’s entire shoot.
“You’re gorgeous you know,” Jisung whispers when he passes Felix. They’re surrounded by three other models, Jisung finds it a little embarrassing he isn’t sure who they are, especially not when his manager reminded him of all their names barely a day ago—but to be fair, Jisung knew the moment he found out he’d be seeing Felix again that he’d be the only one he would be able to focus on.
Felix acts as if nothing happened, not a muscle moves on his face, nor does he acknowledge the compliment. But Jisung smiles—he sees the blush rising quickly, and notices that Felix is taking deep breaths to get the blush to settle again.
Maybe it’s because they’re around each other, maybe it’s entirely coincidental—Jisung finds time moves awfully fast, he is just waiting and waiting for a moment where he can drag Felix away for a second alone. One second the camera flashes and in the other, the photographer and the director tell them all that they’re done for the day.
Everyone sort of scatters—most models go to change back to the clothes they arrived in, and many are going away to other schedules and have absolutely no time to lose. Jisung sees Felix hurry to change, he whispers something to his manager and leaves through a door. Jisung practically runs after him, no time to lose, he’s still fixing his pants and closing his jacket when he opens the same door Felix left through a minute ago.
“Hi,” Jisung breathes, he makes sure the door closes behind them, makes sure they are alone. Felix is standing, leaning against the railing, by a flight of stairs down to the big parking lot behind the building. Felix looks at him like he’s surprised someone followed him, but not that Jisung is here. It’s strange.
“Hi,” He responds, he tries to seem nonchalant when he glances at Jisung—unsuccessful, he feels the corners of his mouth pull upward immediately.
“It’s…been a few, huh?”
Jisung takes a step closer to him, and stands beside him. He doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable, if he wants to leave he can easily do so—go back in or jump down the stairs and sprint away. Realistically he won’t, but Jisung still gives him the option.
“Must be more than a few,”
“What have you been up to?” Jisung asks, grinning, like he doesn’t know. He’d just really like it if Felix talked to him, the raspy dark voice has been missed.
“Dabbled in a little bit of acting, you know? Gone and become a—”
“Superstar, like you promised?”
“Yeah,” Felix answers with a light laugh, maybe he’s not a superstar entirely yet—but one can still dream and pretend.
They look at each other again, really look at each other—eat each other's presence up like they’re starving. It’s not awkward, but there is definitely a layer of tension laying between them. Jisung feels the heat emit between them, where their shoulders meet through layers of clothes and jackets.
“Are you not gonna ask what I’ve been up to?” Jisung raises a brow and laughs.
“Like I have to?” Felix whispers, “I can’t turn on the radio without hearing your stupid voice,”
“What? I can’t even watch TV anymore, if you’re not in the movies you’re in the ads between them,”
Attempting a wink, Felix laughs too, trying to ease the air as much as he can, “You love it,”
“Maybe I do,”
“Do you really?” He asks, the smile drops and the tension comes back.
“I do.”
“Even after everything?”
Jisung nods, he means it. Even when Felix turns his head away and shakes it—Jisung keeps his gaze steady on him.
“Would you like to go on a walk?” Jisung suggests, and when Felix begins with “My manager,” Jisung simply tilts his head a little. “Will she kill you over a walk? Just around the block,”
“Fine,” He scoffs, “A walk,” When Jisung takes a step towards the stairs, Felix holds his hand out, he expects Jisung to hold it when he walks down the stairs for some inexplicable reason, maybe just because he has missed how Jisung feels, maybe he wonders if his fingers are still harsh and calloused from playing the guitar. They are, because even if Jisung no longer plays for Felix at dusk, he still unwinds from harsh work by running his fingers over the strings.
It’s not like Felix promises anything else but a walk, but Jisung likes to think he can see in the future. And it doesn’t look too bad.
Their conversation ends up a little stale and professional, they do not stray away from topics other than work or apparent acquaintances until Felix begins to talk about how he went back on a small break to Australia, the summer after their breakup. Says it was nice to be back with his family—he hoped to catch some gigs there too, maybe make it big there instead. “They don’t like me quite as much there as here, one day maybe, I still wanna buy a house by the beach like I wanted when I was a kid,”
“My friend Chan is from there too, guess I’m just drawn to a special kind of people.” Jisung jokes and laughs. Jisung is cautious, doesn't want to mention that he genuinely thinks Chan and Felix would be great friends if they met, it entails a bit too much, if he says it out loud maybe it will sound like he wants Felix back in his life, maybe he wants that—but he isn’t exactly sure if he can admit it. He’d feel like a fool. Of course, maybe he is one, maybe even Felix is one too.
“Friend?” Felix hums, “He works with you too, doesn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah, he does, we write a lot of songs…together,”
Felix presses his lips together, his ears turn red—not from the cold.
“Have you…met a lot of people, since you know?” Felix asks, tiptoeing around the words “ the breakup.” He feels it’s too awkward to mention.
“A couple, nothing like, you know,” Jisung answers, he avoids the word “us” instead. Not talking about their past makes it less real. “You?”
“No, not a lot, a few people, in the beginning, after, but not so much anymore,”
Jisung glances down at his wrist, and checks the time—despite only being out for a few minutes it would be a wise choice to head back sooner than later, before both of their managers go crazy, call the police or never let them out of their sight again. But alas—Jisung is here, bathing in the luxury of being close to Felix again. In private no less. This is exactly what he wished for, and Jisung isn’t intending to end this moment prematurely.
They don’t stray much further than a block or so from the building, Jisung is walking on the road, Felix on the sidewalk, he balances on the stone and stares at his feet while he talks. After a slight stumble, he holds his hand out for Jisung to grab—stabilize him, which he takes. They don’t let each other go, and even when Felix stops playing around and begins to walk normally again, he drags Jisung up on the sidewalk next to him and circles back towards the parking lot and the building. The air between them turns awkward again, Jisung can’t stand it—so he clears his throat and says something about a movie Felix starred in a while ago—more importantly, he laughs over a crush he had on one of Felix’s co-stars. Felix doesn’t laugh—not wholeheartedly at least, it’s a scoff if anything.
“Is that why you kidnapped me? Get an old colleague of mine’s number? He asks, confused, and stops them both. Although it looks like he despises eye contact, he still searches for Jisung’s eyes.
“No,”
“Then why—“ Felix sighs, shakes his head, he wiggles with his fingers until Jisung lets go of him, “Why did you drag me out here?”
Jisung takes a step closer to him, “Can’t one innocently want to reconnect with an old flame?” They’re nearly chest to chest, Jisung thinks if he closes his eyes and focuses he’d be able to hear Felix’s heartbeat.
Whispering, a little frustrated, Felix pushes out, “Jisung, stop joking around, what do you want?”
“Wanted you to say my name again,” Jisung tries to offer a smile, “Forgot how it was possible to miss you saying it, forgot it was possible to miss you—until I found out we were doing this. Like a knife in the chest reminding me,” He answers, “But I missed it too much, doesn’t even hurt, in fact—I think I’d take a hundred knives to the chest if it meant to have a moment with you,”
It’s clearly involuntary, but a blush spreads across Felix’s face, if Jisung mentions it he will blame it on the cold weather. Felix cups Jisung’s cheeks and looks into his eyes until he drowns in them.
“I despise you,” He says, he does not mean it. Five years down the road, and no one has left a mark like Jisung has. No one has loved Felix like how Jisung loved him.
“No, you don’t,” Jisung retorts. No, he doesn’t. “You love it,”
“I do,”
“You do?”
Felix nods, and Jisung’s eyes widen a little—like he’s surprised. As surprised as he can be, he knew this all along, and shouldn’t be shocked to hear the confession. They had always been very straightforward. Felix slowly lets Jisung’s face go, fingers trailing from the cheeks down to his jawline. When Jisung turns his face back to Felix, the latter bumps their foreheads together and takes a deep breath—he is not interested in oxygen, he’s missed five years of Jisung, so that’s what he wants.
All of him. If just for a moment.
“I do, I really do,”
Carefully, mindful about still being in public, Jisung wraps his arms around Felix’s neck, and embraces him in a hug.
It’s amazing how there’s no leftover hate between them. It’s to be expected from two people who parted like they did—unfairly, before they were both ready Despite all this, they’re not hurt specifically, not anymore, if they had met like this years ago, the situation would be different. But they have grown, they’ve done their best in healing every wound they could.
Maybe they could have gone another decade or two without missing each other, maybe they could have gone the rest of their lives apart without a sliver of feeling the need to go back. Belonging to someone else instead. But here they are now—now, there’s no going back. And it’s something they both know deep down.
Felix buries his hands in Jisung’s dark locks, the hair is still styled and stiff with hair products, but he fights it. He presses his cheek to Jisung’s shoulder. The jacket is cold against his skin.
“Jisung?” He breathes, hot air fanning at Jisung’s neck.
“Yes,?”
“Were they about me? The songs?”
“They were,”
“I’m sorry,”
“Don’t apologize, don’t get hung up on the past,” Jisung assures.
“Leaving you is the worst mistake I’ve ever done,”
“I thought you believed in fate, in the stars and all that?” He huffs, a little teasingly—Jisung has never understood it himself. Personally thinks it’s a little ridiculous, even if he actually was a big fan of calling Felix his soulmate—but to Jisung it was always a little less about something divine bringing them together and more an endearing pet name. But to Felix it always meant more, he was in love with the concept of fate and red strings and being meant for someone.
Jisung remembers cursing over the same thing when they broke up—but now they’re here again. Maybe Felix was right all along.
“So what?” He mutters.
“Then all this was meant to be, the stars—or whatever, meant for us to be apart until we were ready,”
Despite not wanting to be apart from the other for even a second, after so many years of not seeing each other—Felix peels himself away from Jisung’s body, and he looks at the deep brown eyes.
“How do you still know the exact things I want to hear? I’d kill to kiss you,” He whispers, “I don’t even remember what it feels like,”
“I’d be pleased to remind you?”
“You’re stupid Jisung—it would be stupid,”
“I know,” Jisung says, but he presses a soft kiss to Felix’s forehead, and the other leans into it, desperate and needy. His fingers caress Jisung’s face, trailing down over the soft cheeks. “It really would be,” Jisung continues, moving slow lips downwards, dragging them across the skin.
“Out of this world—'' One kiss on the tip of his nose, “Tremendously—” Two on either side of his cheeks. “Incredibly—” A million across the freckles on his face, he presses one kiss extra hard on a freckle placed just by the corner of his mouth, it tastes like makeup. “Stupid.” He says, as he finalizes the slow pecks with one on Felix’s lips. They don’t indulge really, Felix laughs and turns his head away—bright red to the face.
“We should really head back Jisung,” He whispers, but turns back to look at Jisung. Their noses brush up against each other and it’s maybe then they both realize how close they are—back in the real world.
Gently, Felix takes Jisung’s hand, they are close enough to see the building, there’s practically only one big parking lot to drag themselves over. They don’t talk, both flushed an embarrassing shade of red.
For a second, while they’re on the way, it’s five years ago—before anything, when they were still sickly in love with each other. Back when Jisung sang love songs to Felix and Felix dragged Jisung along to convenience stores in the middle of the night just to whisper that Jisung is the prettiest guy in the world in between aisles.
When Felix looks at Jisung he sees the chunky glasses he used to wear and the side-swept bangs. The baby fat on his cheeks he still had when he was pushing eighteen, and miraculously even now. Felix would really like to lean over and pinch his cheeks.
They walk up the stairs slowly. They stop there—still feels like their own private world out here. No one to bother them, no cameras, and no nagging managers. Just— them.
Jisung brushes a piece of Felix’s blond fringe out of the way. He’s so pretty—Jisung smiles just looking at him.
“Jisung!”
Mr. Jang is standing in the doorway, he towers over the both of them, and looks not far from furious, behind him Jisung and Felix see a middle-aged woman coming in their direction, she looks tired—and instead of furious she looks concerned—the moment she sees Felix she lets out a noise of relief.
“What are you doing? I’ve been looking for you,” He scolds Jisung for running away, saying this is the kind of thing that drives him towards an early death.
“Me—and Felix, Felix yeah, we’re grabbing air. Old acquaintances, you know, wanted to catch up,” Jisung explains, it’s mostly the truth, he points in between him and Felix as if nothing but innocence is going on here.
“Well, I appreciate it when I’m being told where you are, I'm sure Mrs. Kim agrees,” Jisung’s manager throws him a look.
“Do you think we could have a minute, me and Felix,”
“Car will be outside in five,” He says, Felix confirms with his manager with a nod if it’s cool, and she nods back, but looks down at her watch. When they share eye contact for five seconds it’s like they have time for a million conversations purely telepathically.
They disappear after a few seconds, leaving Felix and Jisung alone again. Jisung grunts in frustration. Rolls his eyes so far back they could easily get stuck. “Imagine how nice it would’ve been if we didn’t get disturbed,” He whispers, Felix laughs, but he turns glum fast.
“I really missed you,”
“I missed you too,” Jisung hugs Felix—the jackets don’t do them any favors, if it wasn’t nearly subzero Jisung definitely would have taken his off, but he doesn’t really have that luxury right now. Felix leans into the hug, he strokes Jisung’s hair.
They both think, without saying it out loud if it’s worth a second shot, if this is meant to be, as Felix would refer to it as, if they’re meant to be on the same path. Together. Realistically it’s a dumb idea, dating in general, getting into a relationship with your ex, again, no less. But if Jisung didn’t want another shot he wouldn’t have followed him out, he would’ve stuck to a professional, awkward hello. Felix wouldn't have agreed to a walk, he wouldn’t have told Jisung that leaving him was a terrible mistake in the first place.
There are five years of tension waiting to unravel, things to catch up on, conversations to be had and so much more. Felix can’t seem to stop himself, he kisses Jisung, holds his face steady in his hands—maybe he shouldn’t or maybe he should—Felix doesn’t know, but it’s not the point, the point is that he has missed Jisung and Jisung missed him, and if nothing ever comes out of this, he wouldn’t be able to move on without at least one proper kiss.
Despite the thick jackets and the ringing sound in his ears, Jisung can feel; hear Felix’s heart beat against his ribcage. Violent and excited.
“I know it’s insane,” Felix breaths, “But I want to make it work again—do you think we can, are we grown enough? Mature? Ready?” His eyebrows are knitted together, he talks in that panicked voice Jisung still recognizes. “I don’t know if I can just leave today and pretend like this never happened,”
“Yeah, I guess, right?” He says, but he doesn’t know either, to be frank. There are always schedules, and a lack of privacy, he knows he shouldn’t date, not that it stopped him before, but it’s different now.
It’s Felix, it’s Felix who asks.
In every single universe that may possibly exist, Jisung would make it work for him. He’d run miles through the desert, travel the Atlantic, offer his life for him—at least that was the level of his devotion five years ago, and when Jisung looks back at Felix, the long eyelashes, the freckles underneath the makeup, the soft features smoothing out for him, not much has changed since then. Nothing at all maybe. He’s still in love, still stupid. Jisung just stands there thinking for a moment.
Felix chews his lips to pieces. He fully understands that Jisung maybe can’t, he understands the resentment, understands the hurt—he’s heard the songs about him, and it’s always felt like being punched in the stomach.
“Jisung?” Felix asks, he touches his earring, and admires it, Jisung softens every time he leans into Felix’s touch.
Jisung laughs, “I don’t even believe in fate, but I think I’ve been waiting for the universe to push us back together. Or God, or whatever,”
“I thought you didn’t believe in those things,”
“Nah, but you do—besides, we’re standing here right now, so it must be something, like maybe you simply are my soulmate,”
He wears a smile he has worn for ages, it’s big, impossibly so, reaches his eyes without fail—it shows gum and pearly whites and it’s so pretty Felix catches himself smiling just because of it. There’s an urge to repeat it again, that he has missed Jisung, it feels odd to think about the time apart from each other, so he imagines that they’re teenagers again instead, and that nothing has happened.
Felix laughs, he cups Jisung’s cheeks and kisses him again, he has about five years of catching up to do.
“I am your soulmate,” Felix says, reminding himself. “I like that word, always did,”
“I know, you always used to gush about it before” Jisung responds, “Mmn..my soulmate,” He finishes with a kiss.
They know they’re running on borrowed time, a bit nervous their managers will bust through the door and drag them to whatever schedule they have next. They let each other go, and lean against the railing they were standing by just earlier. Jisung lowers his voice.
“So we’re doing it?”
“It’s worth it isn’t it?” Felix sighs, he leans his head on Jisung’s shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something else when Jisung’s manager once again opens the door and interrupts them. Felix takes a big step away from Jisung.
“I said five minutes Han, let's go,”
With a sigh and the roll of his eyes that matches his manager's roll of the eyes almost perfectly, Jisung nudges Felix’s shoulder. “I’ll get ahold of your number, let's talk later, hm?”
Felix smiles at him goodbye when he turns to leave, he remains quiet, only nodding as a response. Jisung is content enough with that.
Of course, he has missed whispering love confessions randomly and listening to Jisung strum on his guitar, almost as much as he has missed Jisung.
It’s goodbye for the night—but they part with smiles on their faces. Sure they’ve got things to work through and apologies to be told, they’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Jisung kind of has to know what kinda music he listens to now and which movies have been his favorites for the past year. If he still puts syrup in his scrambled eggs. Everything.
By Felix’s logic, they were always meant to be—when Jisung sits in the car, on the way back to his company, he thinks about it. Maybe it’s true.
Their love makes sense—it really is singing love songs at dawn at each other and comparing each other to pumpkin patches in October.