Work Text:
Hurling a paint brush at your laptop screen from across the room probably isn’t the best way to show your frustration at a failed painting attempt, but Jungwon does it anyway.
He stares at the in-progress self-portrait adorning (or ruining, in his opinion) the canvas, the light purple and blue strokes of paint, the darker parts where he basically scrubbed his brush against the canvas in annoyance after his hands wouldn’t work the way he willed them to.
It’s fucking horrible.
Maybe his art teacher, ever the optimist, would find something nice to praise him on, if only for a second. This colour scheme is so unique! The pattern is really interesting. It never helps to make Jungwon feel better about his abominations.
He was going for something more modern and vague, but it clearly didn’t work—not that anything else would have worked either.
He considers throwing the whole canvas away when he goes to retrieve his brush, only to find it has left a streak of blue on the laptop screen right in the middle.
Great, he can’t even rage right.
He’s about to grab a tissue when he remembers why his laptop was open in the first place.
Seoul National University. The email comes today.
With the speed only someone who is two minutes late to finding out if he got into his dream university can muster, he slides the cursor across the screen, refreshing the Gmail tab and praying to everything he holds holy.
He can hear the faint muttering of the TV through the walls, the occasional comments from his mother, his father’s easy laughter. Any minute now, commercials will start and his mom will sneak a peek through Jungwon’s door to ask him what he wants for dinner.
The email he’s about to read will only determine if he’ll ask for his favourite meal, or claim he’s not hungry and then throw up whatever she forces him to eat.
The unstable WiFi finally loads the page and the email comes up on top.
Seoul National University.
Deep breathing. Open the email.
It comes in flashes.
We regret to inform you…
We are able to accept only a few…
We hope you will continue your search…
Jungwon blinks at his screen, at the letters hidden by the blue streak of paint that he doesn’t and won’t bother to wipe off.
Because it simply doesn’t matter anymore.
He failed. He failed at the one thing he was supposed to be good at.
To hell with art, he might like it but he hasn’t been good at it in years. But school was supposed to be what he excelled in. But who is he kidding, he was never good at that either.
Just because he had a few good academic years in middle school, he was suddenly supposed to be a brilliant genius.
Instead, he tried and tried and tried, only to get forced half-hearted smiles from his relatives when he came back from school with a B on a test, a B+ on an assignment, an A- on his report card. A was out of the question. Always out of reach, like the teachers loved to play a cruel joke only on him, despite all the effort he put in.
He was his parents’ only child, he was supposed to make them proud.
He was supposed to be like him. Like Heeseung.
Because Heeseung always got what he wanted; straight As, excellent report cards, praise from teachers, hopes and expectations that he always met without fail, admission into SNU, Jungwon is sure.
He’s probably grinning at his own email, calmly announcing it to his parents, their quiet congratulations because it was never a matter of whether he was getting in or not. Of course he was getting in.
Jungwon is not like Heeseung.
When Jungwon meets Heeseung’s eyes the next day, his stomach churns.
Heeseung greets him with a friendly smile, probably even excited to see him—Jungwon feels guilty for not sharing the sentiment.
Their families have met for lunch almost every Sunday for years now (their mothers being childhood best friends and what not) and Jungwon dreads it every single time without fail.
He knows it all too well; he will sit down, read the menu even though he will have already decided on what he’ll have the night before, greet Heeseung’s parents, chat with him about their latest after-school activities, their friends—Heeseung’s best friend Jay will come up every once in a while and Jungwon will act nonchalantly when Heeseung suggests the three of them hang out, and pray that his cheeks don’t turn pink. Then, Jungwon’s dad will ask Heeseung how school is going and his mom will start praising him on everything while he tries to brush it off as nothing special. Heeseung’s parents will ask about Jungwon and he’ll make a passive comment about school being fine, and his parents will have nothing to praise him on, at least nothing that doesn’t pale in comparison to Heeseung’s achievements.
Then the car ride home will be filled with passing remarks about Heeseung this, Heeseung that.
Jungwon will return to his room and rage fill an ugly canvas that his art teacher will pretend to love.
Their parents greet each other, all of them being louder than the other, as if it’s a competition, before finally finding a table and settling down.
Jungwon drowns out most of the catching up conversation, only reads and rereads the menu, stealing occasional glances at Heeseung who’s doing the same, though there is a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.
They order and Jungwon starts thinking of ways to ask Heeseung about Jay’s schedule these days that won’t give him away or make him seem like a creep.
Jungwon is aware he can just ask Jay himself—he knows both Heeseung and Jay consider him a good friend, even when he can’t believe it—but he already feels like a major loser compared to Heeseung; he doesn’t want to be the loser who got rejected after falsely thinking he had a chance.
“Actually, we have some great news to share,” Heeseung’s mom starts, beaming from eye to eye and Jungwon’s stomach drops at the realization of what’s about to happen.
Heeseung’s mom looks at her son, pride shamelessly shining from her eyes, blinding the entire restaurant. His dad shares a similar look, if more reserved, and Heeseung hides his smile by looking down at his lap.
“Our Heeseung got accepted into Seoul National University,” she announces, smile somehow splitting her cheeks even more.
Jungwon’s mom gasps immediately, her own face turning into pure delight, hastily letting out a string of congratulations, both to Heeseung and his parents, while Jungwon’s dad reaches out to pat him on the shoulder, all the while Heeseung fails to fight back the grin at the praise he’s receiving.
Jungwon tries his hardest not to be an asshole and congratulates Heeseung too, despite the dread pooling at his stomach.
And that dread turns out to be proven right when Jungwon’s mom turns to him and says, “Jungwonie, did your acceptance email come yet?”
Finally it comes. And Jungwon underestimated how bad it would feel, because he honestly wants to die right now, with all eyes on him, and he swears he sees a bystander invested too, he’d like nothing more than the ground opening up and swallowing him before he has to break the news—that he failed yet again, to add onto the evergrowing pile.
He failed to get into the university he was supposed to attend, he failed to make his parents proud, he failed as a student and he failed as a son. He’s officially lost his purpose.
When he faces his mother, he wishes he hadn’t; the hope in her eyes is clear, ever-present, his mother who loves him despite everything, despite his flaws, who always believes in him, especially when he doesn’t believe in himself, even when he never delivers on the expectations set on him, his mother still believes he can make it.
“Actually, I…” Deep breath. “I didn’t get accepted.”
That’s it. It’s out. He’ll finally breathe freely again.
It’s painfully silent for a moment. All the eyes on him seem to shrink him into a speck of dust and all he can do is await their reactions.
There will be no yelling, no scolding. Only reluctant smiles and hidden disappointment.
Heeseung breaks the silence first.
“That’s okay, Jungwonie. There are plenty of other universities in Korea you can still apply to.” His lips pull into a smile and Jungwon can’t see any hints of disingenuousness in it.
“Yes, SNU isn’t the only option, you know,” Heeseung’s mother offers, her smile as motherly as ever. “It’s just a school, after all.”
He can only nod in reply, eagerly awaiting his parents’ reactions. He looks at his mom again to find her smiling at him, though hers looks just a bit strained. His dad looks quite passive, but Jungwon thinks he’s trying his best to seem encouraging.
At last, she nods.
“Don’t worry, you can start working on your other applications,” she says in a somewhat encouraging tone which she probably wishes she didn’t have to emit. She would probably love to congratulate him, not encourage him today.
And like that, the conversation shifts, saving him from the burning attention on him, though the atmosphere feels more tense than it ever does on Sunday.
That night, after drawing another couple awful strokes on his self-portrait and rejecting Heeseung’s invitation to hang out with him and Jay (yes, shocker, but he doesn’t want to be with Heeseung right now, even if it entails being with Jay, too, because he simply doesn’t want to deal with the elephant in the room), Jungwon stares out his bedroom window.
He looks up at the starry sky and all he can think is Why?
Why is the universe so cruel and merciless? Why could he not have been perfect in school, or at least good at something? He had two things in his mind for years: school and art, and he fucked them both up. He can barely keep his grade above a B-, he can’t draw his own face for shit, and he definitely cannot get into SNU.
With slight disgust at his own thoughts, he wonders why Heeseung was given all that he was. Why was he the lucky one while everyone else was left out to dry? Maybe the universe plays favourites after all.
Jungwon sighs, briefly looking back at his canvas, the blue and purple abomination. It makes everything worse. Now there are two Jungwons in the room to feel the crushing despair of disappointment.
He hears his phone ping with a notification and he glances over where it’s been discarded on the floor, only to find it’s a message from Jay.
jungwon-ah
how are you doing
Jungwon can only scoff.
Even after this mess, this failure, Jay still finds time to ask him how he is, something no one else really ever feels like doing.
Jungwon can’t help but think of it as a massive joke.
Jay is only being nice.
Outside, an owl can be heard hooting in the distance, calling out into the night, keeping company to Jungwon’s choking thoughts. Far away into the sky, he sees an airplane flying low, probably landing. Maybe he should get on a plane.
But, no, it’s not a plane.
Jungwon squints like it will make him see in the dark more clearly. If his vision (one of the only perfect things in his life) doesn’t deceive him, it looks like a shooting star.
He can’t help but laugh.
Of course the universe would send a shooting star at him to play another cruel joke and feed his diminishing hope of somehow fixing this.
He decides to humor it.
He makes his wish.
In the solitary of his room and the quiet of the night, he thinks, louder than he ever has before:
I wish I was Lee Heeseung.
Jungwon wakes up to the familiar scent of rice cooking.
He can’t believe that after that shitshow yesterday, he has to go to school today like nothing happened, like he didn’t admit defeat in front of his and Heeseung’s families, like he didn’t go to sleep cursing SNU (and, maybe, secretly Heeseung).
His body feels weird, almost like he can’t support his own weight anymore—it kind of feels like the food comas Jay insists are real. He feels it when he sits up in bed after his annoying alarm wakes him up rather violently and he has to listen to it, otherwise he’ll undoubtedly be late.
Though, it isn’t his usual annoying alarm. Maybe his phone decided to spice things up to mock him.
He reaches out to tame his bedhead in an attempt to shake the sleepiness off him, but, strangely, even though he knows his hair is long overdue for a haircut, he finds it surprisingly short, the back of his head not feeling like overgrown hair curling at the ends but freshly trimmed instead.
Weird. Maybe he’s remembering wrong.
Thinking nothing of it, Jungwon manages to get up, his eyes adjusting to the dark his blinds are providing.
Wait. Blinds?
Jungwon never sleeps with the blinds shut, always wakes up naturally from the rising sun.
He blinks, then stretches his hand out to hit the lightswitch above his bed, only to fail miserably. Why is there no lightswitch?
Jungwon springs out of bed, his eyes roaming over the dark room, now making out his surroundings.
This is certainly not his room.
In fact, why is he in Heeseung’s room?
He clearly remembers falling asleep in his own bed wrapped in his favourite comforter after begrudgingly eating dinner and then ruining his portrait further.
Now that he recognizes the room, he has a sense of direction (he’s been in here plenty of times after all), so, in a small panic, Jungwon rushes to the actual lightwitch by the door and flicks the light on.
And there it is. Heeseung’s room; his dark blue comforter, his tall bookshelf filled with God knows what kind of philosophical books because there’s no way future SNU student Heeseung reads fiction for fun, his desk, as always hosting scattered notebooks, pens and post-it notes on the wall, a discarded shirt draped over his desk chair, the one singular poster he has up on the wall above his bed of his favourite basketball player.
How Jungwon ended up here, he has no idea.
Now he’s about to start panicking for real.
After tripping over his own feet, he rushes to the bathroom attached to Heeseung’s room (another privilege of his).
He flips the light switch like he’s got a secret vendetta against it and he can only gasp at what he sees in the mirror.
Because he is not staring at his reflection.
He is staring at Heeseung’s face in the mirror.
This must be a dream, right? Because it can’t truly be a nightmare—Jungwon literally wished to be Heeseung so—
Oh.
Did his wish come true?
There is simply no way an innocent wish on a stupid shooting star came true. That only happens in the movies and people’s crazed imaginations.
So why does Jungwon not wake up when he pinches his arm—Heeseung’s arm—as hard as he can? Why does he not shoot up in his own bed when he splashes water on his face, soaking Heeseung’s pyjama sleeves?
He lets himself really look in the mirror instead of freaking out and trying to wake up.
He inspects his—Heeseung’s—face. The soft, tan skin that Jungwon has embarrassedly tried to replicate with makeup before, the tamed brown hair that is always perfect, always falling on Heeseung’s face with a boyish charm Jungwon has yet to achieve, his soft eyes that have never looked down at Jungwon, always encouraging, no matter how much Jungwon wanted them to be judging, only so he’d have an excuse for his one-sided grudge.
The universe sure has a funny way of playing tricks on emotionally distraught SNU rejects.
Because Jungwon is no longer a reject.
He is straight-A prodigy, future SNU attendee Lee Heeseung.
After he almost addresses Heeseung’s mom formally and manages to somewhat pull himself together, Jungwon walks to school, in Heeseung’s body.
He is trying to get used to it, this body, that is, but also the fact that he is in Lee fucking Heeseung’s body. His wish came true. Shooting stars are real.
The walk is short, Heeseung’s legs walk far faster than Jungwon’s ever did and his house is closer to school too.
The entire time, he doesn’t question the state of his own body.
It only hits him when he enters the school and he momentarily forgets that Heeseung is in the other class and not Jungwon’s, and he wonders if Heeseung is in Jungwon’s body.
However, when he briefly passes by his usual classroom, he sees a bunch of his classmates talking animatedly amongst each other, someone doodling on the whiteboard, girls doing their makeup in the back row.
No sign of himself.
That can’t be good.
Shaking it off, at least for now, Jungwon walks into Heeseung’s classroom and he’s positively delighted at the reactions.
Several people he barely recognizes from campus come up to him to clap his shoulder in greeting, or shout his—Heeseung’s—name when they notice him, and Jungwon lets himself shamefully bask in the attention.
So this is how it feels. To have people notice you the moment your footsteps echo through a room, to be acknowledged, celebrated just for existing, to be Heeseung.
God, Heeseung must feel fucking wonderful every waking second of his life.
With that happy thought and a short moment of jealousy, Jungwon moves to sit down on the desk people are crowding, quickly understanding it’s Heeseung’s.
And more, better proof of that, is Jay sitting on the desk next to it, posture perfect as ever, absentmindedly sketching on his notebook, the sound of the pencil scratching reaching Jungwon’s ears despite the commotion in the room.
At the sound of Jungwon plopping down in his seat, Jay looks up, lips curling into a smirk.
“There’s our ace student.” He shuts his notebook with a thud before Jungwon can peek at it and turns his body to him.
For a split second, Jungwon forgets whose body he is in and he foolishly thinks Jay is actually referring to him.
He quickly remembers he would never be referred to as an ace student and tries to channel Heeseung as much as possible—maybe the countless hours spent studying him from afar will finally pay off, since they didn’t pay off for college.
“Miss me?” Jungwon keeps his tone casual, trying to imitate Heeseung’s nonchalance as he starts rummaging in his bag for a notebook and pencil case.
“Totally.” Jay nods exaggeratingly. “It’s not like I saw you last night.”
Oh, crap. What if he mentions something specific he and Heeseung did yesterday?
“Regardless. You should always miss me.” Finally finding a plain gray notebook and a blue pen—this guy is no fun—he turns to an empty page, scribbling the date on the top right.
“For sure.” Jay turns to his notebook, though he doesn’t flip it open.
Soon after that, the homeroom teacher comes in and starts talking about the latest announcements. Jungwon hears something about college applications so he quickly jots it down for reference, earning a curious glance from Jay who leans in to whisper.
“Why are you writing that down?”
Jungwon stares at him. “Huh?”
“You’re already accepted at SNU. Why are you taking notes about college applications?”
Not even two hours into this and Jungwon is already fucking it up. He really needs to be more careful.
“Oh. Uh, I don’t know. People sometimes ask me about these things so maybe they’ll find it useful,” he makes up the excuse on the spot, hoping it sounds believable enough, but he didn’t consider Jay’s next inquiry.
He nods at first, seemingly buying it. Then—
“Your handwriting changed.”
Jungwon blanks, gripping his pen tighter under the desk. “Did it?”
“It’s usually neater. You’re not even writing in a straight line,” Jay points out, tapping on Jungwon’s notebook with his finger to prove his point.
Jungwon can only shrug. “I’m tired, I guess.”
Jay regards him for a moment and Jungwon is afraid he’s going to reveal him to everyone and a humiliation rite is going to take place. Instead, his lips pull into a small smirk. “I guess the SNU adrenaline hasn’t worn off, huh?”
Jungwon huffs out a laugh, half in relief, half because everything is just so ridiculous right now. “Yeah.”
Later in the day, so as not to raise any suspicion, Jungwon does what Heeseung would do during the break—he goes to the library to study.
He doesn’t study though, although he probably should if he wants to improve his grades to really impress any college. Instead, he shields his phone with his pencil case and opens a new tab on Google.
He looks up shooting stars.
Ignoring the Wikipedia page that pops up first thing, he narrows down his search to wishes on shooting stars coming true. He scrolls past the AI overview and has to ignore multiple articles until he finds something remotely relevant—a Reddit page.
The forum starts from someone seven years ago asking if anyone has had any luck with shooting stars. The responses are mostly jokes, people making up false stories for a few hits, laughing emojis filling up the replies.
But one comment stands out.
It’s from a deleted user from two years ago.
Shooting stars are real and dangerous. I still regret my wish.
Not even one upvote. Crickets. Ignored, passed off as another troll.
But it makes Jungwon pause.
Of course it makes him pause, considering he’s in the same conundrum. He’ll take anything he can get.
He clicks on the profile, but it’s all wiped.
Anxiety taking over his curiosity now, he scrolls furiously to find anything else that could be helpful, but he comes up empty-handed.
“Heeseung,” someone calls and it reaches Jungwon’s ears like it’s coming from another dimension. Defeated, he shuts his phone off, resting his forehead on the textbook he had opened for show.
“Heeseung,” the voice repeats and it only then registers to Jungwon that he is supposed to be Heeseung so he turns abruptly to find Jay looming over him, his backpack slung on one shoulder as he stares at Jungwon.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Jungwon tries in a half-assed attempt at an excuse.
“It’s fine,” Jay replies, but his voice comes out somewhat distant, like his thoughts are elsewhere. Or sniffing out Jungwon’s bullshit.
He sits down on the empty chair next to Jungwon, letting his bag fall on the floor next to him and Jungwon has to remind himself not to stare at the way Jay brushes a hand through his hair, effortlessly charming as always.
He doesn’t even open his bag so he’s clearly not planning on studying. He taps on his phone, presumably to check the time, then glances down to the textbook Jungwon is now pretending to study, then back up at Jungwon, his stare burning up his neck.
“I wanted to ask,” Jay starts and Jungwon shifts his attention to him. “Do you know why Jungwon isn’t at school today?”
Oh.
Jay is curious about Jungwon.
Does he want to see him?
Does he think about him?
Jungwon never really believed that Jay truly cared about him.
He always felt like the third-wheel to his and Heeseung’s little group, always like a person they brought along because of pity.
Even when Jay spent that summer in Seattle and sent Jungwon postcards with pictures of him in different tourist locations holding up peace signs, or playing it cool with sunglasses perched on his nose, or pictures of him looking focused while picking at the strings of his guitar.
Jungwon stared at them for a while before disposing of them in the bottom drawer of his desk, underneath old notebooks and papers.
Jungwon would freak out about this more if there wasn’t the looming problem of where his body was. Because he has no clue either.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since last night.”
Jay hums in response. “Yeah, me neither. I wonder if he’s sick.”
Jungwon suddenly feels a lightbulb appear on his head.
Maybe he can go over to his house after school and check it out, try to find any clue about his body’s location, see if Heeseung is lurking.
“I’ll go see him after school if I have time,” he decides noncommittally, because Heeseung probably has a bunch of other responsibilities too.
Jay seems to find it a good idea, because he nods along. “Alright. Text me with any news.”
Right then, the bell rings, signalling the end of the break. If Jungwon remembers correctly, Heeseung’s next class is English, so he quickly packs up to return to his classroom.
“I will,” he says as he shoves his textbook in his bag, hastily zipping it up. “Come on, Jongseong.” Jungwon gets up, slinging his backpack around his shoulder and walking ahead of Jay.
He reaches the door without any presence behind him so he turns on his heel, noticing Jay standing next to the desk they were previously occupying, bag half-heartedly held in one hand, lips parted like he wants to say something but it just won’t come out.
“What?” Jungwon frowns. “We’re going to be late.”
Jay seems to finally come back to reality, walking toward Jungwon.
It’s not until they’ve reached their classroom and have already started taking notes of the lesson that Jungwon realizes his blunder.
Jungwon is the only one who calls him Jongseong.
When Jungwon rings the doorbell of the house he’s lived in his whole life, the door comes flying open, startling him.
“Heeseung-ah!” his mom nearly yells, as if she didn’t see him just yesterday.
“Hello,” he greets, resisting the urge to call her mom. He takes off his shoes immediately, knowing all too well how his mom always ushers Heeseung inside without a second thought.
Predictably, she says, “Come in, come in,” making way for Jungwon to pass and he already misses the way she’d pester him about how school was before feeding him a platter of fruit.
“I just wanted to see Jungwon. He wasn’t at school and he promised to lend me some notes. Is he sick?”
Then, like she remembered something she’s been racking her brain for, Jungwon’s mom says, “Oh, Jungwon! I think Jungwon…” she trails off, deep in thought as she leans against a wall. “I think he went on a trip.”
Jungwon’s brows shoot up.
A trip?
And why does she look so skeptical?
“Oh, okay. Did he say when he’s getting back?” Jungwon fiddles with the strap of his backpack, awaiting any semblance of an explanation that won’t come.
“I don’t know, honey. You can go get those notes from his room, though.”
Jungwon thanks her, uneasiness creeping up on him as he walks to his room, each step feeling like a warning.
He reaches the door which is ominously shut.
Carefully, Jungwon reaches for the doorknob, then turns it, half-expecting something grand to happen.
The door to his room opens, revealing anything but Heeseung, or any sign of his own body.
His things are there alright so he starts rummaging through them—no sign of his phone. He tries calling himself from Heeseung’s phone with no luck—the number isn’t in service.
He searches underneath his blankets, in the closet, in the desk drawers, among the pile of clothes he’d left on his bed before his life took a drastic turn; he doesn’t really know what he’s looking for, but he continues relentlessly.
At last, his eyes fall to his ridiculous, half-finished self-portrait.
The messy blue and purple strokes are still there, his eyes still noticeable, but, when he inches closer, he makes out the tiniest detail, so miniscule that he wouldn’t have seen it if he wasn’t looking for it; his drawn-on eyelids are drooping—almost like they’re tired and on the verge of closing. That’s odd.
But it’s not just that.
The more he stares at the canvas, he realizes it’s not just the eyes that are different; the colours seem less vibrant, unfinished and blurry. The outline of his face is difficult to make out—you can’t tell where it starts and where it ends, the shadows blending with the background.
The realization comes in a terrifying thought, and Jungwon doesn’t dare say it out loud.
His portrait is fading away.
Jungwon is fading away.
For someone who thinks he knows Heeseung so well after being jealous of him for half his life, Jungwon is not so good at pretending to be him.
Because Jungwon completely forgets one big aspect of Heeseung’s life; basketball.
Heeseung has spent all his high school years being on the basketball team and Jungwon didn’t even think about it when he wore his clothes this morning, it didn’t even cross his mind when he briefly glimpsed at the basketball poster in his room.
Can Jungwon play basketball?
Of course he can’t.
Did he bring Heeseung’s basketball clothes?
Of course he didn’t.
When someone from the team drags him to practice because he’s supposedly late (after having an epiphany when he saw it on Heeseung’s schedule, he panicked and hid in the library for a good five minutes before he was discovered), he has to accept his fate.
It’s when they reach the gym that Jungwon has the incredible idea to fake being sick in order to get out of practice and not humiliate himself and ruin Heeseung’s reputation.
Everyone seems happy to see him and he doesn’t feel bad when he feigns a stomachache to the coach to get out of there—he’d feel worse if he made the others see him royally screwing up while playing the sport he’s supposed to be good at.
Thankfully, the coach lets him go to the school nurse, so worried you’d think he broke an arm.
Finally free from the basketball horrors, Jungwon makes his way back to the library.
For maybe the second time since this whole mess started, he thinks about his old life.
He wonders where the hell his body is, why his portrait looks the way it does, where Heeseung is, if he can reverse everything.
If he wants to reverse everything.
And if he can’t? How will he continue to live as Heeseung when he can’t even get higher than a B on a test, when he can’t dribble a basketball to save his life, when he’s not the Heeseung everyone adores.
“Jungwon,” someone calls out behind him in the hallway, and Jungwon turns abruptly, snapping away from his thoughts.
It’s Jay.
Only when he stares at him with wide eyes does Jungwon, yet again, realize his mistake.
“Oh,” is all he can muster as Jay slowly walks forward.
“It’s really you.”
He stops in front of Jungwon, looking him up and down repeatedly, studying him. Jungwon gulps.
“How do you…” Jungwon trails off, not really knowing what he wants to tell him.
“Please tell me it’s you and I’m not hallucinating.”
Jungwon doesn’t speak for a moment. He just stares.
Disbelief is written all over Jay’s face, and Jungwon can’t blame him. He barely believes it himself.
“Jungwon-ah.”
Finally, Jungwon nods.
Jay breathes out and it comes out shaky.
“How—”
“I don’t know,” Jungwon interrupts. “I wished on a shooting star and—”
“Wait, you wished for this to happen?”
Jungwon blanks.
He wants to laugh.
He wants to say Of course I wished for it to happen.
Because who wouldn’t want to be Lee Heeseung, if just for a day?
Who would want to stay average and a failure if they had the chance to live in Heeseung’s world?
“Whatever. What gave me away?”
Jay blinks. “Many things. I know you like the back of my hand, how were you planning on hiding it from me?”
“I was—wait, what?”
Jay seems surprised for a second, like he didn’t mean to voice his thoughts. He crosses his arms. “Do you have a way to reverse… whatever this is?”
“Um, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it yet.”
“It’s okay. I’ll help you.”
“Why?” Jungwon asks, mirroring Jay by crossing his own arms. And he means Why would I want to reverse it?
Why give up the life he’s wanted for years?
But he also means Why would you help me?
Because he still doesn’t want to believe Jay actually cares about Jungwon in any way, that he wants to help him get back to his body so he can see him again.
Jay frowns. “Why not? You can’t just live someone else’s life forever, Jungwon.”
“Maybe I—” Jungwon cuts himself off. It’s no use. “Okay, whatever. What do you suggest?”
Jay walks past Jungwon, clearly expecting him to follow. “Shooting star, you said? I’m sure we can find a book about those.”
They end up finding two entire books on shooting stars and wishing, myths and stories about them in the past as well as some scientific research.
Jungwon shows Jay the Reddit comment too, though it’s not much.
“That’s kind of creepy,” Jay comments, flipping through the book he has in front of him on the table.
Jungwon hums. “I wonder if it’s real.”
“It must be.” Jay looks up. “You’re living proof that shooting stars are real. I bet other people have gone through something similar.” He keeps his voice low, although there is only one more person in the library and he’s sitting far away, engrossed in a book.
Jungwon leans back in his chair, sighing heavily. “How is this my life?”
Jay’s lips twist in a smirk. “Technically, it’s Heeseung’s life.”
“As if. Heeseung would never be in this mess. He’s too perfect for that.”
“Well, he kind of is,” Jay says, making Jungwon purse his lips. “You haven’t seen him, have you?”
Jungwon sits upright again. “No. But… It’s weird, but this self-portrait I’ve been painting is changing. It’s like… fading.”
Jay’s face drops. “Fading?”
Jungwon nods. “It’s like my face is slowly melting. I don’t know.”
“Jungwon, that’s not good.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Obviously not. What if you get erased from existence? And, in a way, Heeseung will, too. It’ll just be you as Heeseung but no one will know you’re not Heeseung and no one will remember you as you.”
Jungwon frowns. “This is frying my brain. But, you’re right. I guess I would like to see Heeseung again,” he admits, finding himself really meaning it.
“Me too. And, you know…” Jay drawls, fiddling with his sleeve. “I guess I would like to see you again.”
Jungwon freezes. “You… would?”
Jay’s cheeks are tainted pink. “Sure. Who else would I annoy during lunch?”
Jungwon shrugs. “Heeseung?”
“But he’s never affected. You always get so worked up.” Jay is smiling now and it’s oddly infectious, even though Jungwon should be offended by his words.
“Why do you enjoy my suffering?”
“One of the many things I like about you.”
It’s Jungwon’s turn to blush and he hides it by looking down at his lap.
“Many things?”
“Yep.” Jay nods, more confident now. “So hurry up and turn back so I can tease you more.”
Jungwon looks up, eyes fixed on the book in front of him.
Freaking shooting stars.
The solution they’ve come to after intense research is reversing the wish on another shooting star.
Jungwon already thought shooting stars were rare, so he’s a little worried. What if they don’t encounter one, and by the time they do, it’ll be too late?
He’ll be fully forgotten by everyone, doomed (or blessed) to live Heeseung’s life forever, forced to watch his old life fading away into the distance.
They go star-gazing.
Nothing happens the first time.
No shooting star, barely any star in the night sky, actually.
They sit there for two hours, waiting for something, when Jungwon declares it a failed attempt and they leave.
They try again the next night, at a different spot.
“So will you ever tell me why you wished for this?” Jay asks in the quiet of the night as they lay on the grass, hands behind his head.
Jungwon is busy picking on grass blades, his neck burning up at the thought of having to open up about this to Jay.
“Do I have to?”
It’s silent for a moment so Jungwon turns to check if Jay has fallen asleep.
He finds him staring at him.
“What?” Jungwon asks, looking up at the sky again.
“Did you really want to see what Heeseung’s life is like?”
Jungwon closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.
He turns to look at Jay again. “I mean, yeah. He’s literally perfect. Perfect grades, countless friends, everyone loves him, he’s going to fucking SNU. He’s—” he pauses before he says something he’ll regret. “Yeah.”
“That’s a pretty shallow way of thinking, Jungwon. Not everything is as perfect as it seems.”
Jungwon scoffs, looking away. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t get rejected by SNU. I bet you got accepted to your top music school and are just staying humble right now.”
“That’s unfair.” Jay sits up. “Just because you didn’t get one thing you wanted doesn’t mean you are the only one who has ever struggled.”
“What do you know about struggling, Jay?” Jungwon follows him in sitting upright. “What does Heeseung know about struggling?”
“I know plenty about struggling. Just because you don’t see what’s happening behind closed doors, doesn’t mean it’s not happening.” Jay sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You always do this, you know? You’re so absorbed in your own life that you think everything else is sunshine and rainbows and you’re the only miserable one. Guess what? It’s not. We’re all fucking struggling. Even Heeseung.”
Jungwon is unable to even think up a response to that. Because it just seems so bizarre. Heeseung struggling? What a funny joke.
“Let’s just go. There are only two stars and they’re not falling anytime soon.” He gets up, walking ahead of Jungwon.
“Jongseong,” he calls out, hastily getting up. To his surprise, Jay stops, giving him time to catch up. “I’m sorry. I guess you’re right. I just… Yeah, I guess I wanted to see what Heeseung’s life is like. I wanted to live like someone who is liked by everyone and gets praise for simply existing. Not someone who got rejected by SNU.”
“But, Jungwon,” Jay starts, inching closer. “You are liked. You’re liked for you. You don’t need to be anyone else.”
Jungwon frowns subconsciously at the mere thought. “Liked? By whom?” he asks, mostly as a joke. He doesn’t expect Jay to step closer.
“By me.”
It strikes Jungwon straight in the heart and breaks it in a million pieces, then glues it back together all at once.
In a whisper so low he’s not even sure Jay hears him, he admits, “I don’t even like myself.” He huffs out a humorless laugh. “Why would I even want to go back?”
He doesn’t even know when a tear slipped down his cheek, but he is too aware of it when Jay slowly, tentatively reaches out a hand to wipe it away.
“Don’t say that. Please. You have to come back.” He’s cupping his face with both hands now, his eyes desperate and staring straight into Jungwon’s. “If you don’t like yourself, I’ll like you enough for the both of us. Until you realize how amazing you are. Not as Heeseung. But as you.”
Jungwon laughs, another tear falling. “Will you?”
Jay plasters on a shaky smile, but at least it’s real. “Of course.”
This is all just ridiculous, Jungwon thinks.
But it’s the reason why he likes Park Jay in the first place.
His relentlessness, his stubbornness, even when everyone has given up. His big smile and his even bigger heart that he wears on his sleeve, and the way he cares about Jungwon, even when no one else does, even when he doesn’t want to believe it.
He wills himself to look away from his overwhelming stare, taking a second to ground himself.
He looks in the distance, the dark sky that hasn’t been very helpful so far, the grass field stretching on so far Jungwon can’t make out the end.
And there, in the middle of the night, while he’s starting to gain hope about his own life again, he sees it.
A shooting star flying across the sky.
He shakes Jay’s shoulders. “There it is!”
Jay retracts his hands, looking up to where Jungwon is pointing, lips parting.
“Oh my God. Okay. Do it, Jungwon. Hurry!”
Jungwon follows the star with his eyes, marvelling at the quick speck of light against the dim night.
He closes his eyes and focuses hard.
Jungwon thinks about his parents—especially his mom who is always there to make him food when he forgets to eat after studying for hours on end, who took him to painting lessons as soon as he suggested it, who might have expectations, but she never loves him less.
He thinks about Heeseung who always offers to help him with school work when Jungwon never dares ask, who lends him his notes without second thought, who never forgets to invite him places, who supports him in everything, despite Jungwon’s long-term grudge.
He thinks about Jay who was the only one to see past the façade, the only one who noticed Jungwon being gone at all, the only one who bothered to help him because he missed him. The one he undeniably, wholeheartedly likes.
And he is sure of it now.
He doesn’t want to be Heeseung anymore.
With more certainty than he’s ever felt before, he makes his wish.
I want to be Yang Jungwon again.
Jungwon doesn’t remember falling asleep.
He wakes up with the worst headache not even unlimited hours in front of a textbook can prompt, so he slowly sits upright, hand on his pounding head.
He can barely remember where he is, the hours before coming back to him in segments.
He remembers being with Jay, talking about reversing the wish and—
Right, the shooting star.
He tried the wish again.
“Jungwon, oh my God,” Jay exclaims, scrambling up from the ground to head toward him.
Did it work?
“Jay,” Jungwon mumbles, squinting to make out Jay’s face in front of him. “Did it—”
“It worked!” Without thinking, Jay tackles Jungwon in a hug, the both of them nearly falling back from the impact. Jungwon’s just happy to have his own body to fall with.
“It did?” Jungwon asks, face squished on Jay’s shoulder, more relieved than he thought he would be.
“It did,” a third voice comes out of nowhere, startling the both of them away from each other.
“Heeseung!” they yell out in unison, rushing to him where he was laying on the grass a few steps further.
Jay pulls him up to a sitting position and hugs him too, though considerably less frantically than he did Jungwon. “I’m honestly sick of seeing your face. But I’m glad you’re back.”
Heeseung laughs. “You’re just so nice.”
When they pull away, Heeseung meets Jungwon’s gaze.
“Heeseung-ah. I’m sorry. This is all my fault for making that stupid wish. I didn’t want you gone, I swear.”
“I know, Jungwon.” Heeseung purses his lips. “You weren’t the only one who wished on the star that day.”
Jay turns to him abruptly. “Wait, what?”
Heeseung hums, staring into the distance instead of any of their faces. “It all gets too much, you know? I guess I wanted a break. I didn’t realize I’d actually get it.”
So being Heeseung really isn’t that fun.
“Do you remember anything?” Jungwon asks and Heeseung nods.
“Vaguely. It’s like I was seeing everything unfold from far away. But I remember the day of the acceptance. I saw the star when I was walking home and made the stupid wish. I was just tired of everything, I guess. The SNU acceptance email should feel freeing, right?”
Yes, Jungwon wants to scream. It should feel like the biggest relief in the world. But he realizes he knows better now and keeps his mouth shut.
“Except,” Heeseung continues, “it felt the opposite of that. It felt like I was leaving one prison and entering another.”
“I had no idea you felt like that,” Jungwon says in what he hopes is a comforting tone. “You know you don’t have to always fit in the mould people have created for you. You can just… let loose once in a while.”
“Thanks, Jungwonie.” Without another word, Heeseung looks between Jungwon and Jay, eyeing them both suspiciously, before standing up. “Well, the reunion’s been nice. I’ll just… be over there.” He gestures with his hands, walking backwards. “See you guys in a bit.”
They both get up after him and Jay chuckles, looking down, while Jungwon shamelessly stares at him.
“So,” Jungwon starts. “You like me that much?”
“You are about to be insufferable.” Jay looks up, his mouth betraying him by pulling into a wide grin.
“Of course I will be.” Maybe it’s the quiet of the night, or the fact that he is in his own body again—Jungwon raises a hand to Jay’s hair, running it through it. “Park Jongseong just admitted he likes me and thinks I’m amazing. I’ll never shut up about—”
Jay cuts him off with a kiss.
Jungwon kisses him back without a second thought.
Jay’s hand travels down his waist, pulling him closer, and Jungwon shuts his eyes, wrapping an arm around his back, finally feeling like he’s won at something.
“I think you will,” Jay says against Jungwon’s lips, teeth grazing his.
Jungwon smiles. Maybe he’ll never set foot in the SNU grounds, except for Heeseung’s graduation, but that fades in the background at this new, shiny thing he’s got.
And it’s all his.