Chapter Text
RENJUN
Somewhere in the heat of the heart of Seoul, Renjun gets a papercut.
He hisses at the sudden pain as he watches a bead of blood swell on the surface of his thumb before he presses it to his lips. As the taste of iron greets his gums, he glares at the poster that’s handed him this stinging fate:
TAKE THE STAGE: SEASON 4
‘TAKE THE STAGE’ IS BACK! AUDITIONS START THIS JUNE.
SIGN UP NOW!
Renjun hesitates for a moment, eyes running across the familiar words once more before he tears it down. In its place, he slides one of his many promotion posters for the Chinese Students Association off of the pile cradled in his arm, the bright red background and gold letters a stark contrast to the deep blue and white of the previous one. After being elected as Vice President of the club for his second year, he’s been taking extra initiative to prepare for the next group of first years.
A bead of sweat slides down his back as he presses the paper into the bulletin board outside of the Engineering department’s building, ironing out the corners with the back of his free hand to make sure they stick.
“Aw, you waited!” A chirpy voice skips towards Renjun from the swinging glass doors, a sweet gush of cold air wafting from behind it.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Renjun replies, squinting against the sunlight to get a proper look at his roommate’s face as he makes his way to where Renjun is standing. He cocks his head to where his (self-designed, may I add) poster is now proudly stuck. “I was putting these up.”
“Already?” Jaemin squints against the sun, slipping the next poster off of the pile to inspect it. “Uni’s not even out for break yet.”
Renjun shrugs, “you can never be prepared too early.”
Jaemin laughs, blowing a strand of faded blue hair from his eyes as he does so. He places the poster in his hand back to its original spot, and is about to turn away from them when he sees the crumpled paper in Renjun’s other hand. “What’s that?”
“Hm?” Renjun follows his gaze to his fist, and shrugs again, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. “Nothing. Just a random poster from some outsider or whatever.” He moves to ball it up in hope that Jaemin will forget about it, but of course, his roommate is far too fast, and the paper is snatched from his hand, almost giving him a second papercut. “Hey!”
Renjun watches with dread as Jaemin’s face shifts from curious to excited, eyes sparkling.
“‘Take The Stage’, huh,” Jaemin straightens out the poster, a dramatic arch to his brow. Just like that, Renjun knows he’s screwed. “You should join.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
Renjun just shakes his head and starts walking, scanning the plaza for something he can use to distract Jaemin. There are a few students wandering about, some between classes, and others probably heading to lunch. If he squints hard enough, Renjun can make out a handful leaving the closest dorm building with boxes of belongings, all done with classes and heading home for the summer.
“C’mon,” Jaemin says, falling into step next to Renjun, the poster dangling from his fingertips like a carrot on a stick, “it could be an unforgettable experience. And you might become famous!”
Renjun rolls his eyes. “Haha, very funny.”
“What are we talking about?” A new presence matches Renjun’s steps on his other side, and bumps into Renjun’s shoulder in the process, making his bag slip. Renjun groans.
“Mark!” Jaemin crosses over Renjun’s pile of posters and hands the final member of their trio the crumpled one in his hand. “Check out what Renjun found.”
“It’s rubbish, Mark,” Renjun remarks, cursing his full hands for not being able to snatch the poster back without risking another papercut, or worse, public embarrassment. “Just forget about it.”
“‘Take The Stage?’ What’s that?”
Mark, having just moved to Seoul from Canada for higher education (among other reasons) two years prior, is still learning about South Korea’s pop culture, and looks understandably lost. Renjun almost pities him, with those round, black eyes that only get rounder when he’s confused.
“It’s a stupid show thing for people with unrealistic dreams-
“-now that’s rude-” Jaemin cuts in.
“-or desperation for fame. Or both,” Renjun continues, bumping his bag back up, “Like I said- rubbish.”
“Doesn’t sound rubbish,” Mark comments, making Jaemin grin.
“He should join, ri-”
“I’m not joining,” Renjun interrupts. He starts his trek up the stairs towards the dining hall, and the other two have trouble catching up, despite their considerably lengthier legs.“I have more important things to focus on. Second year. Studies. The CSA. Getting a job. I don’t have time for some fancy singing show that’s probably rigged for drama and views.”
“That’s the point of the show, Renjun. To get views,” Jaemin argues, as they turn a corner towards the cafeteria. “Besides, it’ll probably only last a few months, and auditions start in like two weeks. You have time!”
“Why do you want me to join this show so badly anyways?” Renjun says tightly, steps quickening as he pushes the cafeteria doors open, “It’s not like you have anything to gain from it.”
Jaemin half-stumbles into the doors, struggling to catch-up, “Why are you so against it?”
“I told you, I have-”
“Yeah, no, I got that,” Jaemin butts in, the excitement in his voice long gone, replaced with confusion, and a little hurt. Renjun tries to ignore the latter.
“But you’ve told me, told us-” Jaemin gestures to himself and Mark, the second of which has been quietly following half a step behind as the conversation started to snowball into an argument, “-about your dream to be a singer. And you’re breathtakingly good at singing, Jun. So why are you so against it?”
The cafeteria, which is usually bustling with activity at this time of day, is filled with the dead silence that marks the start of the summer holidays. Most of the arts students have finished classes for the year, and all that’s left are the science branch kids who care enough to attend the final classes. A face or two peer at where the three of them have just entered, before turning back to their food in disinterest. Renjun feels embarrassment blossom at the base of his neck.
“I just… am,” Renjun says in a softer tone, mindlessly unstacking and handing trays to himself and his friends with his one free arm.
The three of them fall into a terse silence as they assemble their lunches, cutlery clattering against the plastic trays with the disdain of children who just lost their favorite toys. Somehow, the conversation keeps going, in the form of passing down bowls of rice and scooping chicken into each other’s trays. The tension between them fizzles out into understanding nods and ‘be careful, don’t spill that’ s, until they're finally sat at the far table near the tall window that faces the plaza.
“I’m going to be in Jeju all summer,” Renjun starts softly, as the three of them pick up their spoons. “I doubt they’ll be hosting auditions there.”
Jaemin lifts his head from across the table, and as soon as their eyes connect, he grins. Then he laughs. Renjun can’t help but follow along with a softer one, along with a distant thought that this might not be a good idea.
“What… is happening right now?” Mark mumbles through a mouth full of food.
There’s a silent exchange of looks before the three of them burst out into real laughter, and the thought is gone.
DONGHYUCK
“It is way too hot out here.”
Donghyuck cranes his neck towards the voice, eyes squinting through his sunglasses, honey hair cast over tanned arms crossed behind his head. Jeno drops to the sand next to him, shadows draped across his face from Donghyuck’s mother’s floppy hat, which rests above his own shaded eyes. He does so with the grace of a newborn fowl, a textbook copy of a city boy who's never been to the beach before.
“I have been to the beach before, thank you very much,” Jeno mutters, handing Donghyuck a slushie he’d just gotten from one of the many carts standing where the sand meets grass. The two are sat by a large rock near the shore, just close enough to the gentle ebb and flow of Jeju’s beguiling blue waves, but far enough from the squeals of over-excited children chasing each other in the middle of the beach. The rock even provides a sufficient amount of shade for them, so despite the tide being a little more aggressive at this end, it’s become a spot Donghyuck frequents every summer he’s home.
Jeno removes the hat from his head, nose scrunching in discomfort when the light gets into his eyes for the moment he shifts to get comfortable. It’s a funny thing to Donghyuck, watching the boy he used to spend summers with running around this very beach be so uncomfortable under the sun. It’s not like he hates it, Donghyuck knows that much, but Jeno’s been in the city for so long, and life has worn him down tirelessly, unrelentingly, in the way it usually does with teenagers suffering from the pressures of family and society.
Then again, it’s been a good few years since Jeno visited Jeju with him, the last time being when their eyes still sparkled with the innocence of childhood, and their parents had to hold their hands throughout the short walk to the beach from Donghyuck’s house. It has been long since, and their lives, his life, have changed in ways he could only dream of back then.
“Are you really gonna do it again?” Jeno asks after a few minutes of them basking in the almost-silence of the waves washing along the shore and their slushies rising and falling down their colorful straws.
Donghyuck sighs, taking another sip from the too-big cup, his lips coloring a darker shade of red with each one. It’s been two years since the last season, two years since ‘The Incident’ (as he’s dubbed it). He’s talked to his parents and Jeno about auditioning again this year, but no one thought it was a good idea.
“I’ll get to redeem myself,” Donghyuck says, swirling the thick liquid in his cup as he stares down the straw, “it’s been a disappointing past two seasons.”
“But you’re an artist, Hyuck, a real one,” Jeno sets his cup in the sand and leans onto his outstretched arms, “you have music out, good music.”
“No one listens to it, though. Even my manager said the EP could be doing better.” Donghyuck sets his cup down and picks Jeno’s up. Jeno follows suit.
“It’s still good music though?” Jeno says with a mouthful of slushie, “and you have fans. Great ones!”
Donghyuck shakes his head, pulling a mouthful of cold, blue ice, a refreshing sweetness spreading over his tongue. He decides he likes this one better, and finds Jeno doing the same in the corner of his eye. He turns his upper body to face his best friend.
“I’m going to do it.”
Jeno merely sucks another mouthful of slushie, cheeks hollowed as he stares at Donghyuck with wide but unsurprised eyes.
“I know,” Jeno says, turning to face the water beyond them once more, “just thought that it wouldn’t hurt to try to convince you not to, one more time.”
A grin stretches across Donghyuck’s cheeks, and within seconds he’s pressed to Jeno’s side with his biceps wrapped almost dangerously around the unsuspecting boy’s neck, pressing a big, wet kiss on Jeno’s cheek.
“Donghyuck!” Jeno desperately tries to create space between them but with each push, Donghyuck’s hold gets tighter and his laughter louder.
“You’re gonna support me still, right?” Donghyuck says, pulling back just enough to see the scowl scribbled all over Jeno’s face. Initially, Jeno doesn’t answer, but when he sees Donghyuck’s smile drop into a frown- albeit unserious- he sighs.
“Of course,” he relents, eyes still squinted in distaste and seemingly reluctant. Donghyuck knows better, though. “Now get off.”
Donghyuck squeezes in one more tight hug, and a peck, which he immediately knows is the last straw for Jeno.
So, when Jeno sticks his cup firmly in the ground and starts rattling off warnings about trying that again, Donghyuck is up and running in the blink of an eye, feet kicking up sand until the two of them are chasing each other into the water, laughing, and the almost unbearable heat turns warm.