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Golden syrup dripped from between his fingers, palms open to the sky’s generous pots pouring into the hands of beggars barely holding onto hope. Silky honey tamed the shrieks that scratched at his throat and soothed the earthquakes that burned his stomach.
That’s how it felt when the loud songbird held onto his hand for the first time.
Dragged to his feet after lying on the bottom bunk of someone else’s bed in someone else’s room, now silent after yelling migrated through the hallways and to new places to settle for the next few hours. Taerae dusted off his plasticky shirt, the shiny blue only wishing it could breathe like cotton could. Four shining stars decorating either shoulder distracting from the nightmare of dancing in sweat retaining material. A disaster that existed as a result of a blown budget on uniquely custom suits that would barely make it to the light of day. Even he could recognise that.
His hand didn’t let go as they trudged back to their room, passing by laughter echoing from rooms and stairways threatened by cameras and even louder laughter chorusing from the laundry room that the staff wouldn’t dare walk into.
It was as if glitter graced his body for the first time as his other hand grabbed onto his wrist to tug him faster and more wildly towards their actual room. The first time that he wished that it would stay on his body, the only time that it would be welcome to settle on his skin until the end of time. Taerae squeezed his hand three times for good luck, to wish, to hope.
God wouldn’t grant his prayers.
“Taerae-ssi,” Junhyeon says as he transfers his grip to the door handle. “I think you’re going to debut.”
Taerae laughed, “How can you say that? The first episode only just released.”
A smirk, a glint of knowledge hidden in his gums, “Say your name ten times right now. Just trust me.”
He obliged, sinking his teeth into the beeswax handed to him. Lighthearted, sweet and tasty. He’d always bite into the small jokes that the other man had, taking them willingly as warmth exploded through his bloodstream. Giggles bounced between them as Junhyeon opened the door and grabbed him to drag him into the room. Fire sizzled on his skin, a burn that he’d never treat. Something that brought a new light of comfort to his life.
So when his name was called for sixth place he could only feel the absence of stars on his skin.
He walked up without glitter to his name, his only light coming from the sickly coloured stage lights that illuminated the bubbling sickness in his stomach. Cheers crashed onto him, but were broken into pieces that marked his path up to the place where he was supposed to shine.
Stars beamed, his own skin flickered, but he wished for the comfort of glitter that was too easily washed away. Taerae tumbled with the thoughts in his own mind. He wanted a will to stay in the present, a mood that would match the smile on his face. A hope to be happy in this moment.
God would never grant his prayers.
Given hugs, a temporary warmth that couldn’t fill the longing of one man’s touch. A blindness that was only slightly washed away by Gunwook’s chanting of a name that he wished he chanted many months ago. A cursed chant that left them separated by a few points and a few oceans.
He thumbed at his collar, the cotton replacing the futile mimics of plastic shirts. But no memories were held, a pristine cover that held no troubles nor any laughs. Custom fit, a perfect measurement compared to the one-size fits all of loose blue and pink. Just a farce, a lie of individuality, to pretend that there was a wish for personality where they expect conformity within abstract bounds. A wish to return to the sweaty star shirts from the good days.
“Taerae-ssi,” Junhyeon said as they reconvened. “You debuted!”
Taerae responded, despondent, “Without you.”
He shrugged, “You still debuted.”
Junhyeon looked at him with clear pride and happiness, something that Taerae wished he could feel for himself. Instead, pans clattered in his head as gremlins trashed his mindspace. Honeypots opened themself up to him as a hand palmed at his back. They walked down the stairs, hopes and cheers bouncing between them as gold cleansed his overthinking brain.
Silk wrapped itself around the two. It would dance with new people as they flowed in and out of the conversation they had. Gold traded between travellers, beautiful cheers that meant much but couldn’t dare compare to the gift left by the man that wouldn’t let go. A waterfall, a stream that dared to course until a drought forced them to stop.
The night passed too quickly, the sky couldn’t rain anymore. Stars dimmed, falling from their place and crashing through space. Taerae squeezed Junhyeon’s hand three times, he squeezed back before letting go and waving goodbye.
This was the first time that glitter would stay on his skin and it would be the end of time when it disappeared.