Chapter Text
***
He knew that he couldn’t stay here for long; he could sense the urge to escape underneath his skin the moment they set foot in the underground studio. The pale, white walls felt restricting, extending its infiniteness all the way to the white floor that he was standing atop of, threatening to wash the colors off him – off his distinct facial features, off his bleached-blonde hair and all black attire that he barely remembered putting on per the request of their stylists.
Hwang Hyunjin shivered at the thought of his whole existence blending in with the walls.
He really thought he had been having an okay day; he managed to sleep in a little between the group practice and their first schedule at dawn, he ate – what a surprise – a moderate amount of carbohydrates to keep his moods in check, he even voluntarily spoke up in addition to those carefully scripted lines from a radio interview they finished not long ago.
So he honestly thought he could get through this last schedule, a variety show that their group had visited throughout their comebacks, until those good old feelings started accumulating in behind his ribcage, slightly to the left of his sternum.
Exactly like what Hyunjin had been used to, those feelings escalated fast and rapidly, taking over his mind like a sparkle of fire catching up with a grand expanse of grassland. He was barely there when the staff was busy finishing up the final touches to his makeup. He was barely there when Chan convened all of them to go over the plans and scripts one more time. He was barely there when he was instructed to give out smiles at a row of cameras from different angles.
And they lost him completely at the very first shooting of their group greetings.
Still looking into the camera, Hyunjin watched his own figure remain in the place as they were asked to stay in for the introduction, and yet his spirit was floating farther and farther away, finding a way to break out of those plain, white walls.
He closed his eyes, squinted hard until he could feel a small crease appear between his eyebrows, and then opened his eyes again to embrace the familiar sight –
The ivory-tinted interior of his mind palace.
Having discovered the existence of this place since the passing of his first puppy, Hyunjin didn’t even realize this was for real until years later, until he accidentally or purposefully sent himself back there again and again, until he made those stupid attempts – the ones he should never attempted for his own fucking sake – and witnessed the consequences of doing so, because no such dream or daydream would render one vulnerable so permanently in the same manner that this place granted him the freedom for.
Entering the palace was always easier; he never had to follow the exact path in and through the front door, probably because he was the rightful owner rather than an uninvited guest coming from nowhere. He made his arrival this time in the middle of the hallway, facing the well-illuminated gallery at the very end.
It was awfully quiet, which made him wonder if he was indeed having a day so unbearable that even all the little animals he had kept in the palace were deeply affected as well. Walking down the hallway, he gently opened up the doors on both sides, but not a single trace of any lively beings could be found.
To which Hyunjin pouted in dismay.
All he could hear was the sound from their variety show shooting, coming from an outside so far away that all the chatter was muffled and almost inaudible. He didn’t really need to pay attention to it, as he knew that some part of his consciousness was still there, faithfully doing the job for “Hwang Hyunjin the professional idol” as long as everything followed the exact order from the given scripts. He was planning to have a little play session with his animal friends there, and the active avoidance made him change his mind to a casual visit to the library instead.
Hyunjin almost laughed at himself for daring calling a place like this “library”; it stored very little serious literature, and even for that, most of the collection came from his own memories and thoughts along the reading rather than the stories themselves. Over the time he had spent in the palace, he slowly learned to organize and store his emotions and sentiments in a physical way, some printed in the format of soft-cover books, some marked down in his own handwriting on loose manuscripts stapled in a pile.
And he built – mentally, of course, because of course his own mind palace would let him randomly build stuff as simply as fetching a fleeting thought – this library as a safe space, not for himself but for all those carefully recorded feelings of his. He had deliberately chosen the exposed brick walls on all sides, with the shelves stacking up neatly and going all the way up to somewhere so high that one couldn't see well with the naked eye.
The soft, dim light projected down from the dome put Hyunjin’s heart at ease.
He noticed the faint sounds coming from outside had become some upbeat, rhythmic melody, and he guessed they moved onto the dance part of the show, another part of their life routine that his body could handle with mere muscle memory. So he relaxed a bit, and made up his mind to revisit some of the older collections on display.
Following the metal-framed staircase spiraling up to the highest shelves, Hyunjin started climbing up, living through his own past like a low-budget movie. He didn’t spend that much time here before his trainee years; the only exception was for Kkomi, to whom he had kept a thick collection ranging from letters to poems and doodles, glistening with so many dried tear stains.
The majority of the collections took place after he joined the company, and the number of records grew exponentially over the years, marked by the use of color on the cover page darkening shade by shade. He was surprised to find some of the oldest ones in bright yellow and vibrant orange, presenting the nostalgic brightness in his old personality that Hyunjin barely remembered himself to have ever owned.
Was that really me? He mumbled in disbelief. How was I able to live like this back in the day?
Hyunjin found himself at a level as high as an eight-floor building when he finally reached the very beginning of 2021. He paused in hesitation, not knowing if he should continue and live through it again like he always deserved. The familiar music coming from his physical presence was long gone, replaced by those loud questions and awkward laughter; he could hear his own name being mentioned several times amidst the chaos.
That did not sound like a good sign.
Looking at the tragically enormous and dark collections ahead of him, Hyunjin started wondering if he should get going; he had spent enough time in his mind palace here, and it typically functioned like a recharge, giving him enough energy and willpower to stay present for at least one more schedule. Staying here was comforting for sure, but they were right in the middle of one hell of a promotion period, and he couldn't spare himself the comfort at the cost of his members’ desperate attempts to cover up for the fact that Hwang Hyunjin was barely there.
Hyunjin turned to his back, and let out a quiet sigh, picking up his pace to go downstairs as fast as physically allowed.
“Hyunjin-ah.”
I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’m going as fast as I can.
“Hyunjinnie.”
I know; I know I fucked up and I know about the consequences. Just give me a couple more minutes and I’ll be back –
“Hyunjin-ssi, we need you to make a decision right now.”
Fuck this.
He cursed under his breath, made a jump off the spiral staircase without a second thought.
***
Entering the palace was always easier, because a proper leave required him to exit through a certain route that would take at least 10 minutes; the only faster way out, like one would do in a nightmare, was to cause a self-injury so severe that they would effectively die if it happened in real life.
Hwang Hyunjin learned it the hard way.
Here he was, back in another reality where his mind palace was nowhere to be found. The host was still smiling, with some level of confusion hidden under his eyes, probably wondering why it took so long to make a decision. Jisung looked nervous, too, making a gesture of “two” with his fingers on the side where the camera wouldn’t catch, as a subtle way to remind him what to say in response –
“I’ll pick contestant No.2, I think.”
“Hwang Hyunjin you traitor!” Minho stood up from his seat with a feigned anger, “I just bought you McDonald’s last night, and here you are ditching me for Chan-hyung! I could have won this game with you if you gave me those star stickers.”
Picking up Minho’s deliberate use of words, Hyunjin looked down, and found himself holding onto a couple star stickers in his hand. Chan already got to his side, holding him in a tight hug with a smile bright enough to fool the cameras, and asked him in a voice no louder than a whisper, “Are you alright?”
“It’s okay.” He answered quietly, and hugged Chan back. “Should I give you the stickers or something? What’s this game about?”
Chan shook his head slightly. “Don’t worry about it. The other stickers are on the white board there. But given that you’re the last one to choose, they probably will ask you to stick them to my face.”
His leader pulled back a little, and grabbed a chair to sit down next to Hyunjin’s seat. As Chan expected, the host quickly congratulated their team for winning the “popularity game”, and passionately asked Hyunjin to put those stars on Chan directly. The dancer complied, and carefully positioned the star-shaped stickers on Chan’s cheek, trying not to rub too much makeup off his hyung’s face.
In return, Chan patted him on the back of his head, and curled his eyes up for a genuine smile towards Hyunjin.
It wasn’t until the gentle touch that he realized he had developed a headache, one that felt as faint as those sounds he heard in his mind palace. Now that he fulfilled the job, the adrenaline rush in his body had died down by much, leaving him tired and dizzy; he knew it was definitely a bad idea to hurt himself like that in the mind palace. He wasn’t able to feel too much pain in this world, but once he got back there again, he would face the aftermath of a free fall in no time.
And Hyunjin decided that was a problem for a different time.
They wrapped up the rest of the shooting quickly, as the popularity game was the last part of their planned activities for this time. As they bowed to all the staff members at the studio, their manager pulled both Hyunjin and Minho aside, asking Chan to borrow the two for a quick moment before they left for home.
“Is it about the choreography?” Felix frowned, holding his back with one hand. “Should I come, too?”
The manager shook his head, and reassured Felix there was nothing to worry about. They were led to a quiet corner away from everyone else, and the manager turned to Hyunjin first, “Why did it take you so long to make a choice for that popularity game?”
“I’m sorry.” The younger dancer lowered his head. “I’m sorry for causing this much trouble.”
The manager sighed.
“I know that part wasn’t written in the scripts, so it can be hard to come up with something right away.” He softened his voice, trying not to sound too demanding. “Were you worrying about people’s reaction to your choice? It’s just a show, Hyunjin-ah, so have some confidence in yourself. You don’t have to do exactly as the scripts said; fans really liked those ad-libs you used to do. It’s gonna be fine, alright?”
Hyunjin nodded, pulling his lips into a thin line.
Minho was about to defend Hyunjin when the manager turned to his side, “And you, Minho-ah. You looked so absentminded during the entire shooting; even the host commented on it multiple times. I know our schedules right now are hectic, but at least try to stay focused a little, can you? The staff are all worried that they can’t find enough footage with you actively doing things. It’s not a good image for you.”
“I’m sorry, hyung.” Minho apologized quickly, placing one hand on Hyunjin’s back. “Lixie’s back was hurting a lot during the shooting, and Hyunjinnie looked really distressed. I was just worried about them, and I guess that occupied my mind a little too much. I’ll be careful next time.”
Their manager gestured for them to reunite with the rest of the team after a few more words of reiteration, and went off to the PDs at the set to confirm some final check-ups. Hyunjin didn’t feel like moving, head and body aching from the distant pain from that reckless, untimed collision, and only raised his head when Minho caught his hand.
“Hey.” Minho did a pretentious wink. “I know it’s hard to choose between me and Channie-hyung. To be honest, I would choose him over me, too.”
He just realized that Minho had taken off the colored contacts already, dark pupils fixated on Hyunjin’s face in an undisguised attempt to find something there; a truth, probably, that could potentially explain Hwang Hyunjin’s mental absence beyond those perfunctory excuses they were instructed to use in fulfillment of their idol images.
“It’s not a matter of preference, hyung; I love you both equally.” Hyunjin answered plainly. “I just zoned out a little bit too much recently.”
He watched Minho’s expressions attentively, almost fervently, trying to see if his honesty would trigger some sort of reaction out of his hyung known to possess a four-dimensional personality. Manipulative , he called himself, you know you’re telling the partial truth just so Minho-hyung would stop asking out of pure guilt.
Just like what he thought, Minho let go of that topic quickly, ending the conversation with some complaints about Hyunjin’s unhealthy lifestyle. He almost wanted his hyung to continue, pushing the boundary more to squeeze a confession out of Hyunjin’s lungs (or heart); but he knew Minho loved him enough to not initiate anything distantly similar to that.
Love was a strange thing, wasn’t it?
He parted ways with his hyung at the parking lot, getting in a different car back to the dorm he shared with 3racha. The car ride home was quiet and calming; Jisung fell asleep right away, Changbin was going through the list of pictures on his phone, and Chan never took a break from his work despite the darkness and bumpiness.
Hyunjin was practically curling up into a ball on his seat, bracing himself as the pain from the other reality slowly seeped in and filled up his overall sensations. He didn’t even have the mental capacity to spare a quick “goodnight” when they finally arrived home; the door of his personal space seemed especially appealing amidst all the discomfort he was drowning in.
And he slammed the door open, falling back into the illusory comfort he was able to grant himself like Narcissus falling for his own reflection.
***
Hwang Hyunjin decided that he would never throw himself off any kind of height ever again.
He found himself lying on the concrete floor of the library as soon as he got back to the mind palace. It felt like fractured bones and crushed skull, it felt like blood rushing out and dripping off his hair; it felt like he had actually undergone a free fall, along with its painful consequences from the fact that he was still living.
And he didn’t need to drag his body all the way to the only mirror inside the gallery to know that Hyunjin still looked perfectly fine; all damages he had caused himself inside the mind palace remained minimally visible except for his facial features scrunched all together under the intolerable pain. His limbs appeared slim and slender, his head intact, and his signature long, blonde hair free of any suspicious speckle of crimson red.
A look that could almost trick himself into thinking that he was, indeed, perfectly fine.
He let himself stay in the same position for a long, long time, waiting for the pain to die down little by little. Some of his animal friends cared enough to check on him; like Kkami, who dragged his soft cushion all the way here and pushed it gently under his hands; like Dori, who folded into a bread loaf position right by his side while purring at a low, comforting volume. They were so cute in his eyes that Hyunjin almost wanted to reach out and pet them on the head or ears, until the painful realization hit him again like a head-on collision –
None of the living beings here were real.
Judging from the solid, objectively existing impact from his own actions, Hyunjin had recognised himself as the only one alive in this mind palace. His little animal co-occupants were all rooted from his rich imagination; his tentative touches would simply go through their fluffy bodies, fingertips sensing nothing but the emptiness in an excessively large room.
Kkami started barking at him in concern, when he could finally feel his hands again and tried to support his body up from the lying position. The concrete floor was too cold; Hyunjin cooed at his imaginary dog, struggling his way until he stood up again, holding on the handrail of the spiral staircase as support.
“I’m good; I’m all good.” He said that to the cats and dogs attracted by Kkami’s heartbreaking sounds, to himself as well. “I don’t feel like lying on the ground anymore.”
Their first schedule for tomorrow started late in the afternoon, which gave him more than enough time to indulge himself here with everything speaking loudly of nothing but Hwang Hyunjin himself. He stumbled across the hallway in contentment, slowly, slowly, going towards the direction of the gallery, his proudest construction, to have a brief moment of peace surrounded by art.
Sitting atop of the solid wood bench, Hyunjin inhaled, and exhaled deeply until his vision blackened out and his lungs threatened to shut down.
It was the deafening silence of still life that he had missed so dearly.