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The sign on the door was still there.
Lovingly handmade and utterly impossible to miss, it stood bold amidst the sea of ordinary posters. He'd managed to push it out of his mind all week.
'ANAKT ARTS FILM CLUB', it read in jagged green marker-pen, and beneath it the words 'After school every Friday, end times TBD' in Sua's spidery handwriting.
Tacked to the glass below this was a neatly-made registration form. It was listing slightly to the left and contained a total of five names, two of which he recognised.
AMANO, MIZI
JEONG, SUA
ARKWRIGHT, IVAN
BAK, THEODORE (TILL)
MOON, HYUNA
His eyes snagged on the final name, lingered on the second. The others were meaningless to him - Mizi he knew in passing, for the name had come up again and again in conversation, but it failed to hold any real significance. She was a bright, brilliant spark, the sort prone to fizzling out within five years of debuting, and he did not know what to make of her.
Still, he had promised to take kindly to the first-years. His glory days were long behind him, after all, and a friend of Sua's was a friend of his. It wouldn't do to be jaded.
He dug through his pockets for a pen, retrieved a chewed, beetle-patterned specimen borrowed from some classmate or other, and bent low to sign the form.
UDOVIČ, LUKA
♫
"Did you see?" Mizi asked as she bounded into the room, holding the sign-up sheet aloft, "Someone else agreed to join!"
Hyuna scoffed and did not move from where she had draped herself over the teacher's chair. "Not that Acorn kid again? Does he still think that you two-" she nodded at Mizi and Sua in turn, "-like men?"
Mizi made a sound that was halfway between a gasp and an indignant squeak. "No, not him! They actually put their name down, look."
She slapped the form down, and all five members - bar Till, caught in a rapid debate with his teacher - of Anakt Arts' first official film club considered the identity of their newest recruit.
Ivan, hunched over the desk, frowned. "Isn't he that third year? The one top of, like, everything?"
"He might be!"
Hyuna shrugged. "Not many of us would have the time," she said, but she was shifting uncomfortably, the look in her eyes sad and distant.
"It's Luka," Sua declared. Hyuna flinched, just slightly. "I didn't tell him," she added hurriedly, "And maybe he could use the company."
"He's not lonely," Hyuna muttered, drifting back to her seat, "What? You said it yourselves, everyone knows him."
There was a sudden clatter from the doorway. Hyuna jumped. "Doesn't matter," Till said as he dumped his bag and sauntered in, DVD in hand, "Members are members, and you weren't together anyway."
"Till!" Mizi spluttered. Hyuna sighed, swinging herself around to face him.
"You've got a point. I'll… see how it goes, I guess."
They fell into uneasy silence, broken only by Till's furious whispers as Ivan attempted to prise the box out of his hands.
Snacks were retrieved, the projector coaxed into action, and the lights dimmed. Five minutes after the final bell, the door eased open. Mizi leapt to her feet almost immediately.
He seemed to have wandered in entirely by accident, but there was no mistaking that small, nervous smile. He was tall and blonde and curly-haired, narrow-featured in a way that could have given Ivan a run for his money.
“So you’re Luka,” Mizi said by way of greeting, stepping forwards as if to circle him, “I didn’t realise that was a nickname. If Sua hasn’t told you about us I can do the introductions.”
She pitched it as a request, but Luka considered the barrage of questions with an expression of bemused surprise, before he laughed slightly and shook his head. “It’s alright,” he said, “I take it you’re Mizi? Sua talks a lot about you.” He surveyed the rest of the group with interest. “I’ve met everyone else.”
His golden eyes strayed to Hyuna, who ignored him, then to Sua, who offered a demure little wave, and at last to Till and Ivan, who each murmured greetings.
Luka kicked his bag under the mountain of desks and collapsed in a bony heap beside Sua, loosening his tie. “I’d never thought about joining a club,” he said quietly to her, “I’ve always been too busy. Remember how many times I had to leave early?”
“Vividly,” Sua remarked drily, twisting around so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. She pulled a face. “When did you get so tall? You scare me.”
Whatever retort he might have conjured in response was swallowed by the sound of the DVD player whirring to life. It was a clunky thing about as old as they were, but it worked fine.
“Right,” Mizi said with surprising conviction, “Last time I made the mistake of letting the boys pick a film that made us all cry.” She narrowed her eyes at them in a pantomime of annoyance, before she grinned and continued her speech, “Sua and I - well, really mostly Sua - found this old 2000s hit about… aliens, I think?”
“Again?” Till protested, “What about that horror movie you found? The cult classic?”
“We can do that another time. Take the crappy alien movie.”
Hyuna snorted. Luka smiled, but altogether failed at catching her eye.
“Anyway, it’s Hyuna’s pick next week,” Mizi added, squatting down to prod at the player, “Sorry, Luka,” she said over her shoulder, “If I went over the synopsis again we’d risk running out of time, and we always finish our films.”
Luka said there was no need to worry about him. She beamed and scrambled into her seat at Sua’s right as the first tinny, discordant notes of the overture began to blare.
The film was a simple one; alien invasion, mortal peril, suave genius protagonist. They laughed and shrieked in all the proper places, both Hyuna and Ivan clutching at Till’s arms in elaborate displays of fright.
Sua cast several uncertain looks in Luka’s direction, as if afraid he thought little of the choice, or the club in general, but he remained silent, gradually relaxing.
That was good. He was always so tense. Probably ran on nothing but weird food concoctions and the all-consuming fear of failing his father. She hadn’t invited him herself because she hated pressuring him, and he hated being forced into things.
The movie might have been rather terrible, but Luka, with his father away and, as such, no one needing him at home, was glad for it. He’d never felt quite so ordinary.
He could scarcely focus on the film in the presence of his star, but he had the sense not to push her. He wasn’t the same fool she’d loved and lost and forever resented.
He wouldn't always come, not without her and not when he had work, but perhaps it would do well to have friends outside of his career and Sua.
♫
The fourth meeting Luka attended, he suggested a visit to his house. This was met with disbelief, enthusiasm, and a rather disgruntled Sua.
"I don't like your house," she admitted as he walked her to the car that night, "It stinks of your father."
Luka blinked, then crushed her to his chest. He was still thin, still far too tall. He'd hardly changed, even though Sua had. She'd become this quiet, envious sort of person, placid and silent and uncomfortable with being more than she was meant to be.
"He's not even in the country," Luka murmured before drawing away, smile back on his lips, "And I really hope my room doesn't smell of him, otherwise you've been lying to me for years."
Sua laughed a little wetly, and clambered into the backseat after him. Luka was a good actor - if he wanted to pretend he was happy with the arrangement, she would play along. "It doesn't, I swear. You're nothing like your evil father."
"Wait until we're older. I'll give all my children pretentious names and never let anyone else use them."
"Oh really? Who would even let you do that? You've never dated anyone, ever."
Luka smiled and said nothing.
Sua groaned. "You're not seriously still into Hyuna?"
"Maybe I am," he said, though it lacked any particular feeling. He was always so vague about these things, so impossible to read. It confused and infuriated her in equal measure.
"What do you mean, maybe? You've gone all starry-eyed."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Sua rolled her eyes, but decided to drop the matter. Luka yawned, stretched himself out like a cat, and watched the spitting rain from the window.
Year after year they fell into that easy rhythm, shared journeys and spilled secrets and the occasional bitter silence. Sua didn't mind it, not as much as she minded being around Luka's father and her mother and her sisters. There was something in it, something soft and sugar-sweet, that made her cling to the company, even though Sua liked Mizi and Luka liked Hyuna, and it wasn't worth being forced together for work now they were in totally different fields.
"Sua," Luka said, still turned towards the sky, "Do you want me there? In your club?"
"Of course I do," she told him, almost too quickly. The look Luka gave her was flat and probing. "I'm not lying."
"I know you're not. You're very, very bad at lying."
"Then why did you ask?"
"I'm not sure."
Sua considered this. She considered the way Mizi had lit up the moment she read that unfamiliar name, in that unfamiliar hand. She thought of Hyuna, inching away from Luka but never once taking her eyes off him.
"You say a lot of things you're not sure about," she said, so quiet he almost didn't catch it.
"I do," he replied, eyes slipping shut, "and you’ve never once complained about it."
Sua could not deny him that.