Work Text:
Doyoung flicked the lighter and watched the flame wobble before it disappeared. He was sitting alone on his corner of the roof, just as he had done the night before. The roof was off limits for trainees and staff, but Doyoung had found a way up through the fire stairs. It was one of the only rebellious things that Doyoung had ever done. Well that, and take the lighter.
He wondered if all his nervous energy was making him act this way. Just the other day he had snapped at his mother. He apologised immediately after, explaining that he was stressed about the upcoming debut, the date of which had not yet been given. She sighed in sympathy.
"Don't worry about it. The company likes you, and you've been working hard."
Doyoung had started staying late at the company after dinner, sometimes staying as late as 10pm. And then afterwards he came here, to the roof, where he watched the lights and thought about the millions of people who lived in the city, all strangers.
He flicked the lighter again. It wasn't his; he'd never smoked a cigarette in his life and he never intended to. It belonged to someone named Park Jihoon, or at least that was the name carved into the bottom. Doyoung had picked it up from the box they'd found while cleaning out the old storeroom.
Doyoung assumed that it was an old lost and found box, but Donghyuk had argued that the box contained the belongings of an ex-trainee named Lee Minyeol.
"You better not take anything, or he'll be angry."
"Why would he be angry if he's not even here anymore?" Jaehyun asked.
Donghyuk looked up at the ceiling mysteriously, fighting back a smile. The other boys were so used to his stupid pranks by now, and they could tell there was more to it.
"Go on then," Mark said. "Tell us about it."
"Lee Minyeol was a brilliant trainee from before our time, but he died before he got the chance to debut. Sometimes if you're here after midnight, you can hear him practicing in the dance studio..."
Mark pulled a red shoe out of the box and threw it at Donghyuk's head. "You've never been here after midnight!"
"Hey! I never said I heard him myself. Our singing teacher told me about it."
Now everyone knew that Donghyuk was lying. Their singing instructor, a stern and serious lady, would never have told Donghyuk such ghost stories. Donghyuk probably learned the name of a random ex-trainee and made the rest up.
Doyoung repeated this to himself as he climbed back down the fire stairs. He'd lost track of the time and it was now after midnight. Everyone had gone home and the lights were off. The sound of Doyoung's feet on the cold lino echoed off the walls, so he kept his footsteps small and slow.
Then he heard it - a shuffling sound, quick steps. It sounded as if it was coming from one of the dance studios.
Doyoung's heart hammered in his chest, and he looked down at the cigarette lighter that was clenched in his fist.
You better not take anything, or he'll be angry.
But it wasn't even his, Doyoung thought. The name on it says Park Jihoon, not Lee Minyeol... He shook his head vigorously, as though trying to shake away these paranoid thoughts. As if he was actually scared of a ghost that Donghyuk had made up. He walked over to the dance studio where he had heard the sound, just to reassure himself. When he got to the door, he saw light glowing in the cracks - there was definitely someone inside. He pushed the door open.
A lone person stood by the mirror, head down, concentrating on his feet.
"Taeyong?"
He turned around and glared at Doyoung. Doyoung glared back. He was annoyed by the sight of him, annoyed that he was here after midnight, annoyed by him in general.
"What are you doing here?" Taeyong asked.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm practicing."
"It's late. You should go home."
Doyoung knew that Taeyong didn't like being bossed around, especially not by younger people, so he did it on purpose. And who was Taeyong to get mad at him, when it had been his fault, his scandal, that had put their debut into uncertainty? He was waiting for Taeyong to snap back at him, but he didn't.
Taeyong's face was tired and sad as he pulled off his shoes. Doyoung watched him for a second, feeling as though something wasn't right. The shoes Taeyong pulled off, they were red converse - the same ones that Mark had pulled out of the box earlier. He tried to remember if Taeyong had picked them up then, but then he realised that Taeyong had not been with them when they found the box.
"Turn off the light before you go," he said, and then he left Taeyong alone.
* * *
Doyoung had promised his mother over the phone that he was going to get more sleep, but he still found himself staying late at the company every night, practicing for long hours. He was unnerved by the thought of Taeyong staying late, and he didn't want to be left behind.
Another night he found himself on the roof, just around midnight. He climbed down, and then he went to the dance studio to see if Taeyong was there again.
He found Taeyong alone, as he had been before, practicing without music, just repeating the same set of footwork over and over. Doyoung watched him silently.
"Do you think being the best dancer is going to stop people from hating you?"
Taeyong looked up at him. "People won't hate me."
"They already do."
"They'll forget about it." He paused. "It's not like I did it on purpose. It's not my fault it got uncovered."
"Well it's not anyone else's fault."
"What do you want me to do? Quit?"
Doyoung didn't reply. He walked up to the mirror. "Can you show me the step you were working on? I want to learn it too."
Taeyong reluctantly repeated it for him. When Doyoung tried to copy, he clicked his tongue.
"You should just stick to singing."
"I wanna be a better dancer. We all have to dance."
Doyoung was so tired now, but he persisted in practicing the dance. Eventually it was Taeyong who said they should go home.
As they walked back down the corridor, Doyoung grabbed Taeyong by the arm.
"What?"
"Did you hear that?" Doyoung thought that he could hear another set of footsteps coming from the dance studio, but they had left them all empty.
"No, I can't hear anything."
He thought that Taeyong might mock him for being scared of a ghost that didn't exist, but then he remembered that Taeyong had not been there. He'd never heard the story.
* * *
The next day Doyoung had his scheduled lesson with the singing teacher. Company staff came and went as often as the seasons these days, but this teacher had been around for as long as anyone could remember. She was stern and difficult to impress, but on this day she finished her lesson with: "Good work. You've improved since last time."
Doyoung smiled to himself as he picked up his bag. He turned back, with a sudden desire to ask:
"Teacher, is it true there was a trainee here called Lee Minyeol?"
She frowned. Doyoung was nervous that he was about to get in trouble for asking such a nosy question, but then she answered softly, "yes, but that was a long time ago. He passed away."
"How did he die?"
"In the news they said it was a car accident." She paused. "There were two of them actually, but I can't remember the other's name. I should, because he was a vocalist and I used to scold him all the time for smoking. He and Minyeol were best friends, quite inseparable. They did everything together. It was sad, what happened."
Doyoung felt a weight in his gut, and he was cautious about asking more. But before he left, she said:
"Park Jihoon. That was his name - Park Jihoon."
* * *
That night Doyoung held Park Jihoon's lighter in his fist as he sat alone on the roof. It had become a comforting ritual, holding the lighter and flicking it open to see the flame. But as he walked back down the dark corridors, he felt the weight of the lighter pulling down his pocket. The sound of his own footsteps filled him with dread.
You better not take anything, or he'll be angry.
He pushed open the door of the dance studio and found Taeyong dancing alone. The sight which had previously filled him with annoyance, now filled him with relief. They danced together, and this time Taeyong was more helpful. Still, not much was said between them, and after an hour they turned off the lights and parted without saying goodbye.
* * *
The midnight meetings started to become a habit. Almost every night, they would meet in the dance studio and dance for an hour before going home. The exhaustion Doyoung felt from missing sleep did not deter him from going - somehow he felt that he had to go. If he fell behind in dancing, he might not be able to debut.
When they saw each other during the day, Doyoung and Taeyong would normally trade insults and criticisms with each other, but at night they hardly spoke.
One night, as Doyoung was on the floor tying his shoes, he felt Taeyong fall down beside him. The warm back pressed against his was comforting and familiar. He turned around and saw that Taeyong's cheeks were pink with exercise.
"Do you want to eat?" Taeyong asked.
"It's not too late?"
"I don't think so."
They walked out together, Taeyong still wearing the red shoes. They went to a nearby convenience store and ate noodles at the bench beside the window.
It was only when they were finished eating that Doyoung chose to break the silence.
"I'm worried that I won't ever get to debut," he said.
"Me too."
The chilli powder in the noodles had stained Taeyong's lips to look bright red. Doyoung watched him silently for a few seconds, and was suddenly struck by the thought that Taeyong was actually someone else, someone different to who Doyoung had believed him to be. He shivered, then the thought passed.
* * *
Doyoung started to feel differently about Taeyong. It happened so gradually he hardly noticed it. Where before Taeyong had felt like a rival, he now felt like an ally against what seemed to be an increasingly hostile world.
After practicing together at midnight, they walked home together side by side. They did not say much, but there was a shared understanding between them. Doyoung turned to Taeyong, whose face shone ethereally in the moonlight, and his heart was gripped by a sudden sadness.
"What's going to happen to us," he said quietly, "if they don't let us debut?"
Taeyong shrugged. "Join the army I suppose."
"I'd rather die."
"Yeah, fuck the army."
Doyoung touched his pocket and felt the cigarette lighter. "Hey, do you have a cigarette?"
Taeyong smiled slyly, and produced one from a box in his pocket. He handed it to Doyoung.
"I thought you said you quit smoking. Isn't our singing teacher always nagging you about it?"
Doyoung lit the cigarette, and took a drag on it, as naturally as if he had done it a thousand times.
"What does it matter?"
Taeyong smiled and took the cigarette from Doyoung's lips, then pressed it to his own. As he breathed out, their smoke mingled together in a single cloud above their heads, before vanishing into the moonlight.
* * *
They still practiced together every night, but as each night passed, their efforts seemed more and more hopeless. It had cemented itself in both their minds - they would never debut, and their practice was for nothing. But still they did it, like a sad and desperate act of masochism.
At the end of the night Doyoung turned the lights off but they didn't leave. Taeyong walked up behind him, so close that Doyoung could feel his breath on the back of his neck.
"What will happen to us?" he asked. His voice was small, and somehow unfamiliar. Doyoung turned to face him. They could hardly see each other but for the small light from the corridor. Doyoung brushed his hand across Taeyong's cheek.
Taeyong held his hand tightly, and said: "If you die, I would die too."
Doyoung's heart seemed to turn in his chest as he was filled by a perverse thrill. As they walked out, he turned to look back at the mirror - the reflection that showed two boys holding hands was not them, but two strangers.
* * *
Although they never said it explicitly, it was now settled in their minds. It was the only way their situation could be resolved: they could not debut together, they could not live together, so they would have to die together.
With this understanding, Doyoung took Taeyong to the roof.
Together they climbed to the highest part on the fire stairs, and leaned over the edge.
"How far down is it?"
Doyoung held out the lighter, flicking the flame to see over the edge. It became hot suddenly, and he dropped it in surprise.
* * *
"Park Jihoon. That was his name - Park Jihoon."
Doyoung turned back. "Did Jihoon die in the car accident too? Were they together?"
Teacher was silent for a moment, her lips pressed together in a colourless line. She said, quietly, "They reported it as a car accident to protect the families. These sorts of matters are delicate, and people don't like having to talk about them. Whenever there's a suicide people want to ask questions - were they not really looked after? who is really to blame? These kids work so hard, but what happens when they are not able to debut after being led to believe they would? A double suicide raises even more questions. I often think about whether we could have done more for them, if it would have been possible..."
It now seemed as though she was talking to herself. She looked embarrassed when she saw that Doyoung was still there.
"It's probably best if you forget we talked about this..."
* * *
The lighter fell a long way down before it hit the ground with a clatter. Doyoung felt confused and disorientated. He turned to Minyeol - no, Taeyong!
"Jihoon-ah..." He pulled Doyoung by the hand.
Doyoung pulled his hand away in terror. He shook Taeyong by the shoulders.
"Taeyong, it's me Doyoung!" He looked down and saw that Taeyong was still wearing the red shoes. "His shoes! Take off his shoes!"
Taeyong was confused and stood still for a few seconds, and then became angry when Doyoung tried to pull at his shoes. He kicked his foot around, but Doyoung was able to pull the shoe free. He threw it over the railing, and as Taeyong reached out to grab it, he pulled off the other one.
Taeyong hung over the railing as the red shoes landed on the ground below. Doyoung held him back with both arms. After a minute, he stopped struggling. He turned to look at Doyoung, his eyes half open as if he had just woken up.
"Doyoung," he said quietly, "what are we doing on the roof?"
* * *
It was almost dawn by the time they had found the shoes and lighter. Silently, they returned to the building, with Lee Minyeol and Park Jihoon’s belongings in a bag.
When the manager came in, Doyoung asked to go to the storeroom, where he pulled out the box and placed the shoes and lighter back from where they had been taken. He closed the top, and then put the box away.
* * *
Next week, the date of their debut was confirmed. As the date approached, and the song and line up were finalised, the practice became more intense. Once again, Doyoung found himself staying late at the company, practicing until well after dinner time.
One night he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the dance studio. Without thinking, he walked over and opened the door.
Taeyong was standing alone by the mirror. He saw Doyoung come in and they watched each other silently for one moment. Then, without saying a word, they began to practice.