Chapter Text
Chan groaned internally, throwing his head back against the wall of his dorm as he sat on his bed, his pillow that his mom had bought him so he “wouldn’t miss Australia” resting on his lap. The manager had just told him the other 3 beds of his dorm would be occupied. Finally. He had thought. But now the idea of sharing a room with three strangers wasn’t necessarily appealing. Why the hell would he want to?! He had gotten the ages of the trainees that were sharing with him: 16 year old Seo Changbin, newly 15 year old Yang Jeongin and 15 year old Han Fucking Jisung.
Jeongin had taken the bunk bed of the bottom of his, Changbin the top of the opposite one and Jisung the bottom of that one, almost as if he wanted to glare at him in peace. ugh.
Oh, fuck, he was gonna end up ripping a 15 year old’s head off and he didn’t know how to feel about that.
Only that… he didn’t.
Chan wasn’t sure what exactly led him to end up sitting on the outside stairs of the JYP building in the middle of the night next to a very upset (and ugly crying over a nightmare) Jisung, but he had.
This led him to discover Jisung’s fear of heights (which stopped him from taking the top bed), darkness and constant nightmares.
He also learnt that Jisung liked hugs as much as he did. And he also was interested in producing, was a fast rapper and a very good writer. He also was delicate and slightly fragile, but not fragile like a flower, fragile like a bomb.
He started hanging out with Changbin, too, who was like a perfect mix between Jisung and him, being smart, talented, a fast rapper, and unapologetically himself, not fearing to show his talent, abilities and… tell you to shut the hell up if you deserved it. Looking at Changbin was like a mix of fear and craziness flooding his gut in the best way possible, he knew this man would push him to do the greatest and weirdest things, but he felt safe around him, so he’d be willing to try… at least once.
He got to know that his family was loaded, like, not middle class, loaded in big, big bold neon letters, which he would’ve never suspected because that man was frugal as hell and very humble. Sue him, but he would’ve never expected Seo “I’ll wait until Friday to buy ramen because they’re 3x2” Changbin would have a chandelier at the entry of his parents’ house.
Jeongin was… a child. He kind of reminded him of Hannah each time he looked at him, with his boba eyes, baby fat, sweet voice and the behavior of a child that was infinitely loved and whose parents probably held his hand until they couldn’t anymore. “If you keep being cute I’m gonna have to adopt you!” He said to him once, which only made the younger giggle shyly. He had small eyes, shiny, innocent, almost made him feel like losing the privilege of having those eyes in his life would be like losing the greatest fortune. Jeongin liked fashion, he had been a child model, he also liked trot music, and he had always prepared himself to be a singer.
He wasn’t exactly sure when or how he started hanging out with Hyunjin, tho. He remembered one day hanging out with his new production team (AKA, 3Racha) and going back to the dorms to annoy Jeongin and the next there were four people annoying him instead of just three.
Hyunjin was soft. But not soft as in pillow, soft as in grass, as in stable, confident but willing to let people in (one of Chan was worst at). He would turn his feelings into words easily, with all the adequate words to express exactly what he and others were feeling.
He also liked to paint, draw, dance, everything artistic that could exist, Hyunjin not only liked it but was exceptionally good at it. Chan remembered the time he opened to him about missing his family and Berry, his family’s dog. He had shown Hyunjin a photo for like one minute maximum, but when his birthday arrived? There was a small canvas next to his bed with a blue bow on it and a (very detailed) drawing of Berry, alongside with a small letter on the back.
He still has that canvas over his desk.
And he still remembers exactly where he was when Jeongin ran to him, yapping about the new trainee. Chan wasn’t really interested. He had seen thousands of trainees come and go, so Jeongin ranting about the new guy who has a deep voice and a big smile and freckles and was also Australian… “wait, what?” He asked, shaking his head. Jeongin smirked, knowing he had gotten his attention. “His name is Yongbok! He doesn’t speak Korean!”
That’s how Felix got added to the list of people he didn’t want to see come and go. The moment he saw him, he got a good feeling, of those that only happen once and probably never again. They would exchange secret little notes in English during practice, so he could know what was happening, Chan would translate, and Felix would focus on getting better at his Korean. He also found amusing that his birthday was a day after Jisung’s.
Felix was shiny, golden, almost. He would often feel like his Aussie mate was everything he wasn’t: open, friendly, with little to no walls up, wearing his heart on his sleeve and without fear of losing anything or anyone. He also liked fashion, so he would have to sit there and listen to him, Jeongin and Hyunjin yap about that. He knew he had two sisters, but unlike him, he was the middle one. “Like Innie” he thought.
Seungmin was special since the moment he stepped into his life. The same age as Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin, but closer to Jeongin. He was an ex baseball player who hadn’t been able to get to professional levels due to an injury, so he chose his second favorite hobby: singing. And God was he good at it.
He would always get emotional when he heard Seungmin sing, because no matter what the song was about, he always sent the feelings to whoever was listening. He would take the most random song and turn it into a full on three minute story where you would feel the heartbreak, the love, the passion, the hope, the helplessness. “One day, I’ll write the most honest song in the universe and give it to you to sing.” He teased once after Seungmin had finishing preparations for his next evaluation.
Then he had locked eyes with the guy entering the room. He looked lost, but like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Minho, a professional dancer who had been a BTS back up dancer and now had decided he was gonna be an idol. Up to this moment, Chan had considered himself very good at reading people until he met Minho. He knew nothing about him besides the fact that he was just a year younger than him.
He knew nothing about his history, his philosophy, his career, his life. He knew he liked cats tho. He tried to study him slowly, patiently, to try and understand him. And then, one day, the doors just opened, and he could see everything hidden behind Minho’s own walls. His love for cooking, camping, dancing, singing, his cats, his mom, his childhood home he was always so homesick over.
Chan was sure he needed these 7 dorks in his life. They had become his family and he wasn’t gonna allow anyone to take them away from him. He remembers still the mess he made over JYP trying to drag Minho and Felix away from him, how every manager had looked at him as he ranted angrily, yelling over how unfair it was that they had letting him form his own family only to strip him from them, again.
He wasn’t sure if it had been his outburst or it had always been planned, but he wasn’t gonna complain about his family being together.
And now, as he sat there, surrounded by his chosen family, after the last concert of the dominATE tour, he felt like everything had been worth it. He hadn’t known these people, he didn’t know anything about them and even when he met them he was so sure they wouldn’t stay long. But they did. Somehow. He had learnt how to love them, with their messy personalities, their loudness, their mistakes, their talents, their love for him and his art. He had studied how their dreams came true and materialized.
His life had always been filled with questions, who would stay? For how long? Why? Why him? Why that amount of time? why stay? why? Why? why? Why? But with them? His life was filled with more answers than questions. And they kept adding instead of taking away.
Just like he always dreamt about.