Work Text:
Jimin writes a letter without adressing every day, folds and puts it into the crimson red postbox.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I believe in magic.
—
There was a young magician at the abandoned amusement park every afternoon for a few hours. People said, the magician was crazy and a fraud but Jimin knows the truth.
Jeon Jeongguk was not crazy. He was not a fraud.
He was a real magician.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I miss you.
—
They went to the same high school. Jimin didn’t believe in magic back then but when he saw Jeongguk for the first time, he started to believe in angels.
Because Jeon Jeongguk couldn’t be a human, he was ethereal and perfect to the point what was beyond mere mortals capability. Jimin just stared at him, mouth agape and throat dry. Jeongguk sat next to the window, alone, nose buried in a thick textbook. The sunshine made his sharp features soften and his skin glow, his inky black hair shone like a halo and his round, dark eyes gleamed with determination.
He looked beautiful, so unearthly beautiful – and so, so lonely. Jimin never saw him with others, Jeongguk was always alone, studying. Jimin never saw him laugh.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I can’t sleep without your smile on my skin.
—
Jeongguk, the future heir of Jeon Corporation, walked on a golden road. A flat and completely straight golden road made by his wealthy parents. He walked on it so fast, the scenery on the side was nothing but a blurred mess. The golden road leaded to a bright, big future and shone wonderfully, so Jeongguk had nothing to do but follow it obediently.
It was so cold. Gold is a metal, after all. Jeongguk’s feet was freezing cold and he couldn’t do anything to warm it up. Jeongguk’s heart was frozen and nobody was there to melt it.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I learned a new trick yesterday.
—
Jimin flushed when his stomach started growling. It was empty after all, all Jimin ’ate’ today was the water cascading from the school bathroom’s tap. The entire class was giggling at the sound and Jimin felt his face becoming redder at each passing seconds.
’It’s okay,’ he thought. ’As long as Jihyun has rice to eat, I’m okay with water and some salad.’
His little brother, Jihyun was all Jimin’s got since their parents’ divorce. They could trust no one else but each other since their father’s runaway from the tax collectors. Jimin felt sometimes guilt for not being at home almost at all, but someone had to work and bring food to the table. He had a part-time job as a swabber at an office building. All he wanted was money, a generous amount of money. All he wanted to be was a reliable adult and a good big brother.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
It’s been already two years since you…
—
All Jeongguk heard were empty compliments and praises. 'So handsome… The top student… The best athlete… So hard-working… Such a 'golden boy'…'
All he heard were orders. 'Study more! Stay the best! Aim for the top!'
He wanted to hear children’s laugh.
All what surrounded him were serious adults talking about serious adult-y things. He smiled and bowed politely towards them but inside he wanted to scream.
All he saw around himself was golden – and he was sick of golden. He wanted red and black and white.
He wanted to chase butterflies and follow them to a field full of colorful flowers. He wanted to follow them to where the sky is azure and the wind is free. Where magic is real.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
The summer sky was so endlessly blue today!
—
They met on the deserted roof of the school.
It was lunch break and third-year student Park Jimin was hungry, as always. His stomach growled and the boy wanted to be alone, he didn’t want to feel the piercing gazes and laughing eyes on himself again.
But the roof was not completely empty. Jeon Jeongguk, the school’s top student and 'golden boy' was sitting in the middle with a handkerchief.
”Hi~ What are you doing?” Jimin couldn’t help but curiously ask while walking slowly closer to the beautiful, perfect younger boy.
Jeongguk flinched and his eyes widened. He searched for Jimin’s eyes and when he met with the soft, warm brown irises, his stiff muscles started to loosen.
”Magic,” Jeongguk mumbled, looking at the handkerchief shyly.
”Cool,” Jimin smiled, sitting next to the other. ”Can you show me? Please.”
Jeon Jeongguk had long, thin fingers and a surprisingly soft voice. Jimin found him even more stunning close up.
Jeongguk glanced at him in disbelief. ”Do… Do you believe in magic?”
”No. But I will, if you show me.”
Jeongguk blinked, challenge twinkling in his deep, dark eyes. The handkerchief suddenly burst into flames and a moment later, there was a red rose in Jeongguk’s hand instead of it.
Jimin just stared at him, mouth agape and throat dry.
”T-that was amazing! Oh my God, what a wonderful trick!” He exclaimed excitedly. Jeongguk’s face lit up at his words but immediately changed into a frown by the end of the second sentence.
”It wasn’t a trick! It was real magic,” he huffed with a pout and Jimin had to suppress a giggle. Jeon Jeongguk was adorable.
”Yeah, it was real magic,” Jimin agreed with a dazzling smile. ”Can you show me more?”
Jeongguk’s entire face started to glow. He pulled a small paper card out his pocket and gave it to Jimin together with the rose. Jimin read the single black word printed on the white card: Invitation.
”Red, white and black. My favorite colors,” Jeongguk muttered with a sheepish smile. ”I think these colors are beautiful. They match your face,” he added quietly, his face was rosy and his eyes were glistening with realisation. He coughed and hurriedly stood up. ”I-f you wa-wanna see more magic, come to the amusement park after school,” he stuttered and ran away.
Jimin sat on the cold roof with a goofy smile plastered on his face, his grip was tight on the red rose and the white card.
“So cute!”
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I want you to show me the white fireworks again.
—
Jeongguk learned magic tricks from a street magician named V. V’s real name was Taehyung but he preferred to use his stage name. People said, Taehyung is crazy but Jeongguk didn’t really care as long as the magician taught him. Taehyung said, people are crazy and Jeongguk believed him.
”This is a magical postbox,” Taehyung told while showing him the crimson red box. ”Even though you don’t adress your letter, this postbox sends it to whoever you want to.”
Jeongguk looked at the box with sparkling eyes. ”It’s red,” he whispered in awe. ”So beautiful!”
Taehyung chuckled. ”Wanna try out?”
Jeongguk nodded and nodded and nodded.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I still have your first rose.
—
The amusement park was dark and sad, the old ferris wheel was crying when the whistling wind played with its cabins.
”So you came, Park Jimin,” Jeongguk walked to him with a grin. They were only a breath and a bad decision away from each other. Jeon Jeongguk wore a tuxedo, and a mask made from excitement and confidence on his face.
”Of course I came,” Jimin cocked his head to the side with a ghost of a smile playing on his plush lips.
”Do you believe in magic?” Jeongguk smiled at him and Jimin felt his heart jump in his chest.
”No~” he giggled. ”So show me what you got, and make me believe!”
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
Your first rose is pressed between the pages of my favorite book.
—
Meeting on the school’s rooftop at lunch break and then later at the abandoned amusement park – it became a daily routine. After school and before his work, Jimin came to Jeongguk to watch him do magic. They were mostly card tricks what Jeongguk learned from some mysterious man called V. Jimin never met him in person but Jeongguk told a lot of funny stories about his teacher.
There was something childish innocence in Jeongguk what fueled him to develope his magic. There was something pure and untouchable in Jeongguk what made Jimin dream about him at nights.
”Why do you learn magic, Jeonggukie?” Jimin asked one day, months and months after that incident with the handkerchief and the rose. ”You are the heir of Jeon Corporation, everyone knows that. Do your parents even know that you are here at a tent and not at some supplementary class?”
Jeongguk sighed heavily, his face darkened and muscles tensed. Why did he want to learn magic? To finally able to see the scenery on the side of that cold, so cold golden road clearly.
”No,” he breathes quietly through pursed lips. ”They don’t know. They don’t have the time to check what I’m doing. And it’s alright.”
Jimin smiled sadly while moving closer. ”I’m here,” he whispered into the crook of Jeongguk’s neck. The younger boy shivered beneath his gentle touch. Heat pooled around them and their spine was tingling. Jimin fondly cupped the younger’s face, his thumb was drawing tender circles on his cheek. Jeongguk felt like his heart started to melt.
There was a perfectly clean matress in the tent, prepared for them furtively by Taehyung.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
Every day is harder without you.
—
A few children came to see Jeongguk’s performance. Jimin was watching it from aside and he never saw Jeongguk smiling as brightly as that afternoon, when the children were clapping and laughing joyfully.
Jimin brought Jihyun with him to watch Jeongguk’s performance. At the end, Jihyun forgot his empty stomach and the biggest smile spread across his round face Jimin had ever seen. It was even bigger than the one what Jihyun flashed at his older brother when they finally had rice to eat.
Jimin sometimes arrived late to work because he wanted to spend more and more time with Jeongguk. Maybe it was a spell what made him this fascinated or maybe deep, dark eyes. It didn’t really matter now.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I still want to perform magic together with you.
—
It was summer and they were chasing butterflies on a field covered with colorful flowers. The sky was azure above them and the carefree wind played with the tree’s green locks.
”There is a magical postbox at the amusement park, next to the tent,” Jeongguk spoke, eyes glued to the puffy, floating clouds. ”It’s crimson red and even though you don’t adress your letter, that postbox sends it to whoever you want to.”
Jimin giggled. ”Woah, really? How cool!”
Jeongguk took a glance at him, his bottom lip was trembling and his eyes were serious.
”You… You don’t believe in magic,” he said and it was not a question. It was a statement on a voice filled with disappointment and sadness.
”No…” Jimin swallowed and looked away. ”But I want to. I want to see your real magic, red and black and white. I want to perform magic together with you.”
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
The wind whistled your name at dawn.
—
So Jeongguk showed him, his real magic in all colors. He kissed Jimin’s lips crimson red. He sucked a bruise, blooming black and purple. He made Jimin see nothing but white fireworks behind his eyelids.
That night, on the clean and comfortable matress, to the rythm of their drumming heartbeats, Jeongguk fell asleep and Jimin fell in love. That night Jimin started to belive in real magic.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I love you.
—
Jeon Jeongguk was a real magician. Jimin had no doubt about that.
Who else could make the life of a poor, average boy like Jimin this vivid and happy with a single wink, if not a true magician?
Jeongguk learned a new magic trick, it was blue, three simple words. It was barely audible but still made Jimin breathless with bliss.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I adore your red and black and white, but my favorite color was always blue.
—
Jeongguk’s parents found out their son’s ‘little hobby’, after all.
That day, Jeongguk ’went crazy’, as his classmates said. He threw a chair out the window and ran away from school, screaming, and he never came back.
That day Jeongguk showed the whole world his real magic. It was no trick and no fraud. He disappeared in a blink of an eye, without a word and without a trace.
And he took Jimin’s fragile, trembling heart with him.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
I couldn’t cry tonight because, I guess, my tears just sold out.
—
Jimin writes a letter without adressing every day, folds and puts it into the crimson red postbox. The hollow in his chest aches with hope.
—
Dear Jeonggukie,
Do you believe in magic?
—
Jimin walks away, steps heavy and tired, so, so tired. Surrender echoes in his bones and pain sits in the curve of his shoulders. He doesn’t see that the small door of the crimson red postbox opens and there is nothing but a tiny white card with a single black word printed on it: Invitation.