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It happens during a very important business dinner for the first time. When Jaehyo suddenly feels sick to his stomach, and he excuses himself so promptly nobody around the table catches what he's said. He stands up and quickly walks to where he thinks are the restrooms. He guesses right, and pushes his heavy body into one of the private, nice smelling rooms.
When he kneels down in front of the toilet bowl something soft and tasteless goes up his throat, so softly Jaehyo hardly notices something sticking to his tongue, and it leaves his mouth. Half of the soft whatever misses the bowl and spills on the ground by Jaehyo's knee. He'll have to clean it later.
He falls, suddenly too weak to hold onto the white toilet seat, the dry things almost painfully falling from his mouth making him choke with the quantity, feeling them stick to the back of his mouth, get caught under his tongue.
He stands up when it stops, wipes the corner of his mouth, the lone trail of spit there, glad that it's all over, when he sinks to his knees again, takes ahold of the sink, hisses, and more color escapes through his mouth.
All pastel pink and light purple mixing nicely, when Jaehyo finds the courage to open is eyes and look at it all.
When it's finally over, for real, when there's nothing left to fall out of his mouth, Jaehyo's eyes focus, and he's met with a pile of flower petals.
He puts a finger in his mouth and has the privilage of pulling out a couple petals more, the few too persistent to stay with him. To, maybe, try and make Jaehyo feel alright, to act like this wasn't just something that happened. They're just petals, they can't do anything for Jaehyo's sake. Not even disappear.
Jaehyo knows what they mean, there's not much mystery behind it. He sighs, dissatisfied, feeling certain distaste in his mouth which isn't from the damned petals. He curses at himself. Curses at himself for being weak. Not having a grip on himself. For letting his emotions whirl out of control.
Jaehyo blames himself for a lot of things.
"Fuck..." He says, quiet, because he doesn't forget he's still in a public space. Because he has an image to keep. Because he doesn't want to be one of the celebrities whose unrequited loves are being written about in magazines. Doesn't want to his feelings and the person recieving them to be theorized about when Jaehyo himself knows about it all. It's of nobody's concern, and he sure as hell wishes it wasn't his either.
He doesn't cry, doesn't feel sad, doesn't feel hurt. It's to be expected. Jaehyo's almost proud, though he really shouldn't be - he tells himself - to have predicted this.
He feels disappointed and regretful and embarassed because this wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen because his predicaments are never more than silly jokes and the ironic dreams of colorless flower fields suddenly drowning and dying in a sea of bright red fire, leaving only dull grass sprouting behind, have never been taken seriously.
He sits there on the toilet seat in front of the pile of petals, refusing to look at it like it were the embodiment of his shame. That it was a hot red blaring sign screaming to the world that Jaehyo was weak and he couldn't control his emotions.
That he caved in to the slightest temptation. That he's so easily provoked. For now it was a reminder. A reminder to Jaehyo that he hasn't once been in control of anything, not even himself. A reminder of Jiho.
Jiho would be disappointed. Though Jiho already knew just how weak Jaehyo actually was. Jiho knew a lot of things about Jaehyo, too many, more than anyone else, and that's maybe why Jaehyo's been thinking so much of him for the past few years. Maybe it was because Jaehyo knew a lot of things about Jiho, too. Too many.
Maybe if he runs out, eyes closed or just opening and closing rapidly, making Jaehyo look weird, he can pretend this never happened. He can pretend this never happened and love Jiho quietly again. Without any reminders of his shame, without any signs, without any words. Acting like he wasn't so desperate for anything Jiho offered him. A glance, a laugh, a text message. It doesn't have to change.
But the baby pink petals sit there almost proudly, a hard fact, though so soft and so tempting to touch, not doing much of anything but existing and Jaehyo's left to glare at them because they hardly look menacing and that's a lie, false advertisement and a plain cruel joke.
There's a knock on the door.
"Hyung?" It's Jiho and Jaehyo's suddenly all that much more afraid and now he does want to break down and cry. To stop acting like he's strong. He still doesn't, though, proud of the accomplishment because he feels like his uncontrolable loud sobs would hit horribly off of the four restroom walls and echo into the sophisticated hall of the restaurant.
That would probably give him more attention than he got in Block B, anyway, but the public embarrassment isn't worth it.
Jaehyo guesses he's been holed up for quite a bit of time if Jiho had found the need to leave the table to check up on him, leaving men in fine suits with pretty things at their arm's reach to sit there and talk business without them. Ill-mannared.
"It's fine, Jiho. Leave it." Jaehyo says, sitting on the heavy lid of the toilet. He doesn't want to be seen. He'll be judged and suddenly all the approval he's been forever seeking since he was a young kid standing in front of a vocal teacher will be gone like a puff of air. He doesn't tell Jiho to leave directly, he can't. Doesn't want to. Never will, and that's maybe what makes the whole situation so dangerous. Jaehyo's unconcious need and dependence on Jiho he's all but admitted.
This is where Jiho has the little sense to try and turn the knob on the door - and it turns and the door opens, easy, because Jaehyo was too busy desperately trying to reach the toilet before littering the floor to worry about turning the simple fucking lock on the heavy door.
Though that didn't work out. Hardly anything works out for Jaehyo anymore.
He shivers, sitting on the heavy lid of the toilet seat. Elbows on knees, face in hands, eyeliner probably smudged at the corner of his eyes because maybe he did tear up. A little.
"You should really start locking up. It's been a bad habit of yours since a long time ago..." And the words die down so painfully slow Jaehyo feels like Jiho's in a cartoon, in some funny action scene.
Jiho's slow steps echo as he walks into the room, closes the door shut, turns the lock Jaehyo forgot to, and walks over to where Jaehyo is now standing, chest puffed out, ready to confront and ready to get hit by anything Jiho has. Had against Jaehyo since forever.
Jiho stops just in front of Jaehyo and he doesn't feel big enough to lift his head up, body suddenly slumping, arms hanging by his sides, weak, useless.
It takes around a minute of silence of what Jaehyo guesses to be Jiho's mind working, wrapping around and taking in all the sight around himself - around Jaehyo. Writing thoughs and ideas down in his mind, scribbling, erasing, scribbling... because that's how his mind works, he's explained to Jaehyo a long time ago when Jaehyo wasn't a freak. When Jaehyo had a girlfriend he'd love to look at and Jiho was... Jiho. In Jiho's mind every word has potential to become something more than a thought; something real, a word, a lyric inside a sad song, a line inside a fast rap. An emotion.
It takes time to take it in. All the pink and purple of flowers and the white of clean restroom tiles to even it all out.
"Flower petals?.." It's a statement, weak, but sure, so Jaehyo waits patiently for whatever else Jiho has to say. And he's sure it isn't pretty, not as pretty as Jiho's eyes when he smiles or the throaty sound that escapes jis mouth after he's done laughing after so long because of something mildly funny Jaehyo's said.
"What the fuck, Jaehyo?!" Jiho screams, voice suddenly so loud, his mind catching up, and Jaehyo whimpers, eyes set so low, but not low enough. He watches Jiho's feet, standing there, frozen in place, black shoes so polished.
The flower petals laying in a scattered pile by them on the white tiles, having absolutely no business being there on the floor of the restroom of an expensive restaurant, ruining it all.
Jaehyo's too ashamed to lift his head. Too ashamed to look and too ashamed to fight.
"Hanahaki Disease, really?! You're not allowed to feel like this!" And Jaehyo wants to agree, he has to, his contract states he has to, his everything does, but his mouth is quicker than his mind and Jaehyo suddenly feels rebellious so he doesn't catch himself before screaming back.
What a joke.
"Who's to say I'm not! It's not my fault you don't love me, what do you want me to do about it?!" He shouts, desperate and so so so regretful. "It's not my fault you probably don't even know what love is past a couple song lyrics!" And, though it's the last thing Jaehyo will ever admit standing on this planet, he allows himself think for a second that it isn't his fault. That it's nobody's fault. But soon it's gone, and the feeling of pure guilt is back. But he's still angry. He still needs to fight. He still needs Jiho's aproval that Jaehyo's angry for a good reason.
And he doesn't deem it enough to show Jiho just how mad he is with the situation, how unfair he finds Jiho to be, so his foot shamelessly kicks at the petals laying by Jiho's feet. A few lone ones find their way onto his shoes, making the sight all the more troubling and ugly.
"Let me tell you! It's not half as pretty as this shit is!" And they scatter all around as if Jaehyo was the wind, coloring the clean white floor in baby pink even more and it would all probably make a very nice Instagram picture if it were taken out of context.
Jiho's feet are still firmly planted on the ground and if Jaehyo didn't find them so menacing he'd probably want to brush off the petals and stare at the beautiful shoes of Jiho forever because he's so tragically in love with everything Jiho. Because it's disgusting. Because it's repulsive.
"Me?" Jiho asks, voice soft and low and the complete opposite of what Jaehyo was waiting for, so he doesn't blame himself when he unconsciously lifts his head up to check Jiho's expression before he can tell himself not to. Their eyes lock and Jaehyo flinches.
He's not sure what he's expected, not sure if he's expected anything at all, but whatever it was - or wasn't - was definitely not this.
It definitely wasn't the look of a broken man, so hurt and so tired. Mouth drawn shut and eyes that look about ready to apologize in every language they've seen. Dark bags under eyes suddenly overwhelming and waxed blonde hair all over the place. A pimple just below the hairline, two birthmarks peaking from under a layer of foundation below his eyes.
It's regretful.
"I'm sorry." And Jaehyo's not sure who says this - if it's him or Jiho - because he's just suddenly that out of it, out of this situation, out of it all.
And he isn't sure whatever Jiho would be apologizing for if it was him, but if it's Jaehyo he doesn't need to look for an explanation for long. A living and breathing one standing right in front of him and staring at him as if he were a live and breathing fire in the middle of a dark woods. In the middle of a field of colorless flowers - intriguing and dangerous and unpredictable, but at the same time time flickering in fear, cracking under all the weight of nothing.
"It's fine," Jaehyo says, he knows it's him for sure this time, voice angry and stern and exactly what he told himself he didn't want to come across as, so he just lets his head fall weakly again. He pinches the bridge of his nose as if to show indifference, sighs to show his annoyance (something he's picked up from Taeil over the years) and when he's done showing Jiho just how little, supposedly, he cares, he pushes past Jiho as softly as he can, and Jiho moves on his own, somehow still there and still present, the glistening black shoes taking an ungraceful step back, stepping onto Jaehyo's colorful shame.
When he moves past the door to go back to their table, collecting himself on the way, finally finding himself able to breathe and preparing his mouth to curl into a charming smile and apologize Jiho doesn't try to stop him.
When Jiho comes back, minutes later, with a professional bow and a practiced polite smile, branding himself as a succesful and competent public figure he acts like nothing happened, so Jaehyo follows him to do the same - like he always does. Jaehyo doesn't blame him.
"You're weeks away from making a comeback and you now decide that you have the Hanahaki Disease?" Their manager shouts when he catches Jaehyo in the studio along with Taeil and Jaehyo's explained to him his situation. Taeil watched the exchange quietly. Jaehyo knew he'd suspected him, anyway, when he once pointed out Jaehyo's been looking much more pale recently and he just didn't look right in general. The case that it was the Hanahaki Disease didn't cross his mind though, probably, so Jaehyo's a little cocky about seeing Taeil's eyes go wind with surprise and shock. Not everyone can get that expression out of him.
"It's not really a decision." Is the first thing to leave his mouth when he decides to speak. "Don't scold him for it."
"I know it's not." The man sighs, eyebrows drawn in annoyance and disatisfaction like they seem to do so much more frequently every time Jaehyo has the pleasure of seeing him. "How do you forget to mention something so important to me? Not to me personally, to the company! This is important, Jaehyo!"
"I didn't think it matters. I thought it would stop." And it's a lie, Jaehyo knows it's important, he knows it's not something he can stop just like that. His try at a carefree shrug falls short of a joke. It fails completely and he looks like he's had a minor stroke. But it's better than the manager's double chin looking like a pillow puffing out in anger when he sneers at him.
"You didn't think it matters." He repeats with a scoff.
Taeil glances at Jaehyo, the phone in his hand the least of his problems at the moment. The atmosphere in the room is more heavy than he cares to admit.
"Jaehyo, this shit can actually kill you, do you not realize that? You really should've said something about it sooner." He says, eyes the most apologetic.
"Whose side are you on, hyung?" He nudges Taeil's thigh with his foot, leaving a dirty white mark. Taeil doesn't get mad because he's actually a little reasonable.
He sighs and glares at Jaehyo, then at the manager who does look a little calmed down now that Taeil's paying attention to him.
"I'm on the side of everything that's okay, and this is really not okay." He says. "Jaehyo should've reported it immediately, but you have no place here to lash out at him, he's not a kid." He pauses to look at Jaehyo again who doesn't look as betrayed anymore. "At least he said something. Others don't. It's not easy to."
"I'm just going to go..." The manager runs his fingers through his hair, face clear with frustration. "To settle this with the director. To look at the options, to see what we can do." And he exists the studio with an appreciated quiet close of the door.
The quiet is suddenly suffocating and Jaehyo isn't sure if he should start talking or if Taeil wants him to wait for him to collect his thoughts. Jaehyo wonders how Taeil would deal with something like this. If he would talk or if he would keep it secret, only for him to know, like Jaehyo. But, if his tattoos and all of him in general is indication enough, Jaehyo can take a guess and say Taeil wouldn't fall in love so easily and so painfully deeply like Jaehyo did. Because Taeil's stronger.
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Taeil barks when his thoughs are collected, all in line again, all making sense. Jaehyo's eyes go wide, something out of his control. He can never get used to a yelling Taeil. "Telling us only now, how long did you know?!"
"Hey!" Jaehyo raises his voice and he doesn't mean to because Taeil doesn't mean harm, Taeil never means harm when it matters, but Jaehyo's just not in the mood to get yelled at. Because he knows, he knows everything about it all and Taeil has no business arguing with him when Jaehyo's the one experiencing.
"Don't you scream at me, hyung." The hyung is delayed because Jaehyo honestly forgets to add it for the first time ever. Taeil doesn't seem to mind, he looks like his head is already too full and too empty of everything and his mind is racing infinity and one thoughts per second. "Jiho knew. He could've said something. But he didn't."
"Jiho?" Taeil asks, eyebrows raised, mouth suddenly dry.
"And he's screamed at me enough. I get it, I'm a shitty human being. No need to tell me twice."
"Wait, wait, wait." Taeil puts his hand out, not necessary, as Jaehyo's already done talking, but Taeil seems to have dug up something he wants to say from all the words jumbled in his throat. "Jiho?" He repeats again and Jaehyo doesn't even pretend to be suprised or offended. "It's Jiho?" Jaehyo's at least strong enough to hold in a cough threating to destroy his image of indifference. The name is so pretty for Jaehyo to hear. He hates it.
"Yes, it's Jiho, what did you think? A random dude from a grimy club somewhere in Jeju?" And it isn't a secret to Taeil that Jaehyo isn't straight. He was the first Jaehyo told, back when they were trainees, because back then Taeil was almost like their guardian, because Taeil was the oldest, though older than Jaehyo just barely. Because in Jaehyo's eyes Taeil had so many flaws he would be the only one to accept someone as flawed as Jaehyo was.
Because back then, when they were trainees, Taeil would talk to him about things Jaehyo didn't want to. Because he played an active role in Jaehyo figuring himself, and others, out. Because Taeil wasn't afraid when Jaehyo would ask for personal help. Because he didn't turn his back those times Jaehyo needed to be proven that he was alright as he was. That he wasn't a broken item. That there was someone like Taeil who'd accept him and all his flaws, just like Jaehyo did with Taeil when he didn't need asurance. Because Taeil was always strong and always sure.
"No, of course not, but Jiho's..."
"Jiho's what, hyung? What is Jiho?" Jaehyo speaks, voice desperate and fast and all over the place. "In a relationship with Seolhyun? Straight? Happy the way he is? I'm sorry, I can't relate to any of it."
And there's not much Taeil can say back, nothing else left to add. No way Taeil can make him feel better like he used to, because Jaehyo's grown up, only if it's a little. Because there isn't anything left to say after so many years of friendship.
"I'm sorry." Is all that comes out of Taeil's mouth and it's the last thing to escape his lips before an exhale of breath he's probably held in since the beginning. Jaehyo accepts it with a nod, knowing Taeil isn't one to push things.
So Taeil just sits still for a minute, making sure that there's really nothing more for him to add. When he finds nothing he just goes back to his phone in his lap, calm and trusting and waiting, and he sits up straighter. Jaehyo sighs then, and goes into the booth to try and sing out his frustrations because that's something that's never worked and Jaehyo hasn't anything else to try. He's bored.
Jiho breaks up with Seolhyun, then. It's all over the tabloids.
That's the only way Jaehyo knows this, because Jiho wasn't there to inform him. They've stopped talking. Jiho's stopped texting, even though, smiling bitterly, Jaehyo's never stopped waiting. He still checks his phone, weeks later, to see if Jiho's messaged him. If he sent him a funny picture or a five second recording of some song. Now all he knows about Jiho is all his fans know, only the things Jiho shares in his SNS. Though, funnily so, when Jaehyo went to check on Jiho's Spotify, because he was in love with the music Jiho would listen to, the different playlists would be filled with sad and depressing songs. All probably for Seolhyun.
Jiho's stopped talking with all of them and Jaehyo beats himself up because he knows it's his fault. Because if Jiho didn't know things would still be normal. He could still act friendly with Jaehyo and Jaehyo could still quietly love, could still secretely glance at Jiho at the most random times and smile like an idiot. But now it was all ruined, no more secrets left to hide. Jaehyo agrees with Jiho. He'd be weirded out by it all too. He, too, probably wouldn't talk with the person in fear of making things worse. Of in fear of completely ruining the little thing that might be left to fix.
Taeil and Minhyuk are there in Jaehyo apartment's living-room to tell him otherwise, to make him think he's wrong. To talk and to not once mention Jiho's name. Jaehyo didn't tell Minhyuk it was Jiho, but with the way he'd catch Minhyuk looking at him pitifuly as if he were a dog on the streets of a bustling city, and always stopping himself before talking about Jiho, Jaehyo could guess Taeil told him.
A part of Jaehyo is telling him that Jiho's broken up with Seolhyun because of him, too. For him. Another part of him, the one he always find himself in agreement with, tells him not to think of himself so highly, because Jiho's a big boy and he can decide who he dates on his own. Because Jiho is so out of Jaehyo's reach. So past his horizons and so far above the sky.
So blinding and Jaehyo sometimes thinks he doesn't even deserve to look in his general direction, doesn't deserve to feel his presence or listen to his voice and that the things happening now are a punishment for allowing himself to think otherwise, only if for the rare moments he couldn't control himself at all.
Minhyuk tells him that Jiho, when he's decided mentioning the name can't do much harm, was never all that serious about Seolhyun in the first place. With an awkward tone telling Jaehyo about that one time he found her nudes on Jiho's phone and Taeil acting like he wasn't interested, though he definitely was. They all laugh at it, until Jaehyo caughs up a handful of yellow petals. Sunflower, Taeil gives a voiced guess. Neither one of them are flowers experts so they all decide it's the petals of a sunflower.
Jaehyo isn't sure he believes it, that Jiho wouldn't be serious about something like another person, a girl he was happily dating, if only for a split second, as more petals slip past his lips and into the clean plastic bowl Taeil's handed him.
It's a little nice, Jaehyo thinks childishly. To be taken care of this way.
Jaehyo's condition doesn't get better, but it finds a way to get worse. He's been caughing up more petals, each time different color, each time at different quantities. He throws up a lot more often, too. At least three times a day. It's uncomfortable and it makes things difficult, so he finally listens to Yukwon when he offers to check him into the hospital to get it treated and taken care of.
Jaehyo doesn't tell Yukwon he's afraid. But he can guess Yukwon's already aware - Jaehyo's always been a coward in weird situations. Jaehyo's afraid. Afraid of talking to people about it, afraid to stop loving. Because he's read about it - that there isn't a physical treatment. The only solution the world knows of is to make a person stop loving, which is apparently possible with therapy and a fuck ton of pills.
He's afraid of what will be left once he stops loving. He's afraid that everything he is now is all Jiho, everything he thought Jiho thought he was. He's afraid to lose it all and he's afraid to be disappointed at what will be left.
"But it'll be better that way." Yukwon tells him as he drives, a bag filled with Jaehyo's things sat in the backseat. Yukwon demanded Jaehyo let him drive, as he wouldn't let Jaehyo do it himself. You can never know once you get into another caughing fit and drive off into a sign pole or into another car, he said, so Jaehyo had to begrudginly agree, feeling as if he had the worst cold in existance, ever. "Without Jiho, I mean." And Jaehyo looks at him weirdly because he's sure he wasn't speaking out loud.
"Was I talking or?.." He asks and Yukwon smiles a little, because he knows Jaehyo needs something nice to look at. Because he knows Jaehyo's sick of seeing colors and seeing things that mean something more than they're meant to, so he smiles genuinely, letting Jaehyo know that not everything has to have tragic meaning behind it. Not that Jaehyo's ever thought that, anyway.
"What? Read your mind?" He asks, eyes glistening. Jaehyo appreciates the effort Yukwon's putting in to look bright. But-- he probably isn't. He's just generally a bright person. It makes Jaehyo smile too. To hope that one day he can be as good as Yukwon. The car suddenly feels warmer and Jaehyo's reminded that Yukwon always had that effect.
"Yeah. Creepy." Jaehyo shudders animatedly and Yukwon hums in acknowledgment.
"But you're really not giving yourself any credit here. Thinking of Jiho so much your body makes you push out flowers out of your throat. You should be more selfish and think of yourself more instead of someone else, you're wasted on someone like Jiho." And Jaehyo laughs, loud and clear and Yukwon smirks to himself, happy that Jaehyo isn't as down as he looked before stepping into the car.
"Right." Jaehyo says sarcastically, looking out the window and seeing passing buildings, all a grey blur mixed with the orange of autumn trees. The color is unpleasant and Jaehyo wants it all replaced by black and whites. "Like Jiho wasn't one of the most amazing people you've ever met."
Yukwon then laughs, too. "I mean, true." He smiles at the road. "But I don't go falling in love with someone like that. I have better hobbies."
"Like?" Jaehyo raises a brow.
Yukwon stops to think and Jaehyo's eyes soften with amusement when it takes Yukwon more time than he'd thought to come up with something. "Cooking?" Yukwon offers and Jaehyo snorts because he knows for a fact Yukwon avoids cooking like it were the plague. "By the way, I'm not sure if you mind me asking, but..." Yukwon is reluctant to ask, whatever it is, but Jaehyo doesn't see why he would be. There's nothing he's shy about anymore. Jiho was his biggest secret and it's out. Anything Yukwon has will be okay. "How long have you been, you know, in love?"
And Jaehyo snorts at the seriousness of the question because it's really not anything important.
It's what he wishes to say, at least, but it is important. He's afraid of the moment he'll stop thinking so. But, he thinks, he should be able to say it. Maybe saying it out loud will make him grow the fuck up and stop aching for a person who's so clearly not meant for him. Because he wants to stop being weak.
"Seven years, I think?" He wonders and acts not to notice the way Yukwon gulps. "A year or two before debut." Wow, Jaehyo thinks, it's really been a bit of time. He wonders how Jiho couldn't notice something like his friend being so in love. He has to wonder if things would be different if Jaehyo would've told him. If they were different if he told him instead of letting him accidently see, all guilt ridden, or if everything would be different if Jiho knew from the start. If Jaehyo had admitted to himself from the very beginning and together with that confessed to Jiho. Would things be different.
"I guess I can see why it's so severe..." Yukwon says as he drives into the parking lot of a dull building. "Though I wonder why it took so long. No offense, but you'd think you'd get sick earlier with seven years of time for it to happen.
Jaehyo leans back in his seat, looking out the window and being met by a big, dull building. Colorless. Great. "Tell me about it." He looks over the building like it would be his first time here. This is where he'll stop loving. This is where everything Jiho will become a memory. Should become a memory, because if not Jaehyo might as well make himself choke on the flower petals he throws up next time, whatever color they'll choose to be next time force them back down and hopefully plug his airways. It's almost like a game at this point - to guess the color before anything comes up, and that's maybe the only good thing. "I can tell you, I thought I've avoided a bullet, only to develop it so late. A little inconvenient, don't you think?" And Yukwon nods, though inconvenient is the last word he thinks of in this situation.
When Yukwon stops the car Jaehyo cups his hands over his mouth, his bare eyes, free of makeup, closing. "Red." He chokes out before his voice gets muffled by the petals falling softly into his hands.
"Yellow." Yukwon says, holding onto the steering wheel like his life depended on it, because dear God if Jaehyo chokes. He doesn't want to admit, though, that he finds the game Jaehyo's come up a little amusing, though more horrid than anything.
When Jaehyo finishes caughing he slowly pulls his hands away, careful not to spill any of the content in Yukwon's car.
Blue.
His treatment begins immediatly. He's to stay in the hospital at all times to be monitored. His doctor is a nice man. Twice as nice as Jiho, though it isn't easy to compare with Jiho gone. Not as good looking as him, a couple years short of a decade older, but it takes Jaehyo's mind off things when he looks at him, Dr. Kim is his name, so it's not all bad.
Flowers of Youth some-other-long-medical-term-that's-hard-to-pronounce the flowers are called. Jaehyo didn't get it, he wasn't listening all that well. It was hard to when he was on different types of meds all at once, all having different effects on his mind and body. Apparently the flowers have earned a name for themselves.
The doctor was a bit surprised when Jaehyo's told him he doesn't have a single type of flower in him. That it's always different. Types, too, not only colors. It's a little strange, the doctor admits, it isn't usually like this, he says. But it doesn't matter to Jaehyo. He wants it all gone. He needs it all gone, because Jiho shouldn't be burdened with something like this. Instead, he focuses on the doctor who seems to talk to Jaehyo more personally the longer Jaehyo stays in the hospital with a bowl in his lap always ready and waiting for light petals to fall into it.
The flowers die and they have to exit the body, Dr. Kim explains. They shouldn't be there for long, anyway, only if a person can't let go, then, then they go into full bloom. When the person doesn't get the happiness they've desired the flowers die and the only way for them is up, he explained so. They're not even physical, it's all mental. They're an imagine inside a patient's mind one never notices, which then takes form instead of something else that didn't. Love, Jaehyo guesses was the word Dr. Kim didn't say, but the term didn't sound medical, didn't seem necessary for a patient struggling with it to hear so Mr. Kim did his best to ignore the word as if it was a cuss.
Jaehyo laughed then, one of the pills he took making his sense of humor all that much stronger. It sounds like something from a manhwa, he said. The fantasy genre. Something which shouldn't exist. Something which seems so out of place here in this world. Dr. Kim explained it wasn't always like this. Nobody's sure why it's here, what made it come to be, and that he agrees with Jaehyo. It really does seem out of place, he nods, when Jaehyo squeezes at his hand then.
Nobody knows how they came to be, but there's a whole of a lot of theories.
Jihoon and Kyung come over for a visit at the hospital a week later. Jihoon walks into the room looking at Jaehyo so apologetically Jaehyo's almost convinced it's all Jihoon's fault. A look of pure pity, so sad and so sorry. Kyung, though, strides into the room and goes to ask Jaehyo why the mood is so gloomy when nobody's died yet.
Though it's not enough to convince Jihoon that Jaehyo's fine with it. When he catches Jaehyo staring he tries to smile, bright like he always does, but it's not nearly enough. Jaehyo tries smiling back in acknowledgement that he knows that Jihoon's trying, and then he turns around to act like this never happened.
"How does it feel like?" Jihoon asks taking back the bowl full with petals Jaehyo's thrown up just now. He gives the bowl to Kyung and he throws them out with an exagerated disgusted expression.
"How does what feel like?" Jaehyo asks, his medication making him a little more sluggish than he likes. "Throwing up flower petals or the hospital?"
"Both." Kyung answers for Jihoon.
"Are you really curious?" Jaehyo eyes him suspiciously.
"I mean, we asked." Kyung shrugs. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to. It's cool."
"It's okay." Jaehyo nods, because it is okay. Recently a lot of things have been okay. "The petals don't feel like anything. I don't feel them inside of me. It's like they only become real inside my throat when I feel them going up, which, strangely, doesn't hurt at all." Jihoon face lights up, strangely, when he takes notice of Jaehyo's light tone. The treatment seems to be working.
"How does it feel to love so much flowers start to bloom inside of you?" Jihoon asks, too fast for Kyung to stop him, so Kyung just smacks his head and Jihoon hisses, ready to hit back only to remember Kyung's the hyung and he can destroy any imagine Jihoon's had, ever. He lowers his fist.
"Don't ask him that, do you seriously have no tact?" Kyung growls.
"We've been living with him for years, Kyung. I think we knew he doesn't have any tact once he started jerking off in highschool." Jaehyo says, cold and heartless, and Kyung cackles, evilly and Jaehyo follows suit, Jihoon looking like he's just been kicked to his nuts a couple dozen times.
"It hurts." Jaehyo answers honestly. Because it does. It hurts like a bitch having to look at your friend with a racing heart. To listen to the person you love talk about their girlfriend. To talk to her and be all friendly because you know she's the one the person you love chose, that you know she's better than you, that she's loved and welcomed. Because you realize she's good. "And honestly, I never planned to do anything about it. I waited for it to pass. Though it never did." He talks. "Funny, isn't it?"
"Hilarious." Jihoon says, sarcastic, rubbing the back of his head where Kyung probably put his whole strenght inside a single palm to hit him.
"What the fuck do they give you here that fucks up your sense of humor so much?" Kyung asks and Jaehyo laughs again. "Though you never really were one to crack actually funny jokes from the start. Jiho just has a soft spot for lame humor."
"Ouch." Jaehyo rolls his eyes. "And, if you really want to know - it's shitty food. That's what's destroying my will to live." Jaehyo sighs. The food really is terrible at hospitals. Jihoon, then, leans in dangerously closer to Jaehyo from his chair by the bed and crooks his finger for Jaehyo to do the same.
"Next time, we'll sneak you something in." He whispers and Kyung nods in agreement standing behind him, because shitty food they've been feeding Jaehyo is suddenly everyone's biggest issue.
"Also, not that you asked." Kyung starts, tapping at his phone. "And not that it's something you should care about, but Jiho's really fucked about this whole situation. We don't talk, but I can see he's bothered by it all."
"How so?" Because it hurts more for Jaehyo that his heart started beating faster at the mention of the name than to pretend like it didn't. Because he knows he'll ask Mr. Kim to make him forget about this once his friends leave.
"Actually, he stopped talking to all of us. Completely." Jihoon says, quickly, before Kyung starts talking.
"Yeah. He's still holed up in his studio. If he's not in his studio, he's in the office. If not there, it's some meeting. He hardly goes home anymore. It's all work. He doesn't even let us in into his studio, well, only me and Taeil really tried, when we go over to talk."
"I guess he feels guilty." Jihoon shrugs and Kyung nods once again with a quiet right?
"Shit." Is all that Jaehyo says before reaching for the emtpy bowl on the nightstand and starts to vomit again.
"Purple." Jihoon quietly says to himself and Kyung goes to smack him again, only for Jihoon to put up a fight this time. They don't even notice Jaehyo quieting down, picking up a petal from the bowl and expecting it. His face lights up with a smile.
"Jihoon was right!"
"Shit!" Kyung screams again, diving for Jihoon again and this time actually planting a good punch to his throat.
"You thought blue, didn't you?.." Jaehyo asks, disappointed that Kyung's such a sore loser. Kyung only pushes the hair out of his face back and blinks down at Jaehyo who's sitting in his stripped white and blue pyjamas.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Jaehyo... hyung? Is it alright if I come in?"
"Of course it is, you're no stranger." Jaehyo chuckles as Jiho uncomfortably steps into the room, looking as terrible as ever. "You look awful. What happened?" He comments with a playful smirk, trying to let Jiho know it's okay.
"Thanks. I aged ten years after hearing how much I fucked up one of my best friends." Jiho jokes, carefully, not getting Jaehyo's message. Not knowing his boundaries. Not knowing how much Jaehyo will allow him to act friendly. And Jaehyo's hurt, because he's hardly ever held grudges and Jiho knows this, yet he suddenly does feels like a stranger. Jaehyo still laughs, though, to let Jiho know that it's okay. Okay with him and should be okay with Jiho. That he wants it to be okay with Jiho. "I don't know what to do in this situation." Jiho admits and Jaehyo wants to laugh again, because he doesn't remember the last time he's seen Jiho looking this way. Looking so exhausted, so lost and confused. Looking so weak.
"Okay. First off." Jaehyo starts, bringing his legs up onto the bed and crossing them. Jiho comes closer to sit in the chair Jihoon always sits in when he has time to visit. "I'm sorry." He says, voice soft and genuine and Jaehyo's so glad, so, so glad he finally gets to say it like he means it. That he's sure it's him apologizing this time.
"The hell are you apologizing for. I was the one that didn't see how you felt." Jiho points to his chest, angrily. "It was all me!"
"Don't be so arrogant." Jaehyo waves his hand, calm. "It's not always about you." He says, and Jiho seems to have calmed down, taking a couple slow, steady breaths and looking at Jaehyo with the softest smile Jaehyo hasn't seen in such a long time. It doesn't though make his heart flutter. Though he's still estatic. "I didn't tell you how I felt. I knew you were dense. It was me that kept it a secret. And I'm sorry for not telling you."
"But still..." Jiho looks like he wants to argue, wants to accuse himself and wants to rid Jaehyo of all the bad he's feeling. "You don't know how I felt once you left that bathroom. I was crushed, I didn't think something like this could ever happen."
"It's okay, now, Jiho." Jaehyo says and Jiho would be a fool to not admit he's missed the glimmer in Jaehyo's eyes. "If you feel uncomfortable or something... Don't. Like, it's, like, actually really weird to say this, embarassing too, but I don't love you anymore."
"Why is your tone so relieved?" Jiho sulks in the chair and Jaehyo laughs again. "It's like you're glad to have stopped loving me."
"Well, I am. It did almost kill me, Jiho." And Jiho apologizes again, only for Jaehyo to wave his hand dissmisively again. "And besides... Now that I've stopped, wanna be friends again?" He asks, and yeah, it sounds dumb, he knows, it sounds weird and wrong. But what's Jaehyo to do about it. Jiho, though someone Jaehyo's loved, was still a good person. He was funny and nice and everything that made Jaehyo fall in love is still valid and Jiho's still someone unbelievably amazing, with all his flaws and non at all. Someone Jaehyo never wants to cut ties with, ever. "I mean, if you don't feel, you know... Disgusted with me. Though you did know I wasn't straight, but still..."
"What are you talking about. You're still the same Jaehyo hyung and you're still here. You still can't dance for shit and you still joke as if you were funny. Still too pretty for your own good. Of course I never wanted to lose someone like you. We've been through so much together." Jiho says and Jaehyo nods, relieved, lips turning into a weak smile Jiho smiles back. "I've missed you." He says and Jaehyo deems it acceptable to stand up and fall straight on Jiho's lap and sit there in a very immodest position and wrap his arms around Jiho's neck, take a whiff of his cologne at his collarbone and let a couple tears wet the skin Jiho's hiding under a white shirt. Jiho appreciatively wraps his arms around Jaehyo's waist. They stay there like this
Jaehyo lets himself not to think Jiho's the sun anymore. Allows himself a touch. Just a feel of something new. Something lost and not missed, Jaehyo feels good without it. He'll do.
Jiho's shot up into the sky and forcefully brought back down to crash into the hard ground all at once.
"I know it isn't a good time now, but..." Jiho takes a deep breath again when they walk the hospital's hallway to leave and Jaehyo turns his head in question. "Do you want me to pay for your treatment?" Jaehyo has to wonder, with a friendly chuckle, if there are any more ways for Jiho to humiliate him in this life of his any further. If there isn't he feels as though Jiho will have little difficulty coming up with a couple. He's a creative man.
"It's fine." He's not offended, Jiho can clearly see, and he's relieved.
Jaehyo isn't offended, though he has every right to be, because even if Jiho has Zico, all big, important and powerful, Jiho is barely an adult, merely a kid who grew up too quickly and not yet matured. Someone who got lost on the way to the studio on his first day and hasn't found his way yet.
But Jaehyo hasn't fully grown either, hasn't matured at the age of twenty-six, so he understands where Jiho is coming from.
And it isn't weird once Jaehyo leaves the hospital. Not as weird as he'd imagined it to be. It's almost like nothing at all has happened, hasn't changed, take for the awkward moments when Jaehyo brings up something about how he's loved, and then they both, Jaehyo and Jiho, pretend like it isn't awkward at all. They talk and hang out again, share secrets and act all disgusting around one another and it's basically perfect again, Jaehyo thinks as he swallows a couple of pills that had been prescribed for him. He's almost finished them all, and after them there's nothing. These are the last things he has to go through to get over it all, he believes. To forget like the flower petals that don't haunt him anymore. Mr. Kim encourages him as he watches Jaehyo smile at him through the mirror and put the container back on the side of his sink.
And Jiho couldn't disagree more with Jaehyo. Nothing's perfect. Things can't be perfect, perfect is an abstract word which doesn't even have one meaning, nor two, nor three. Perfect, simply, does not exist.
"Everything, all of it, has gone to shit." Jiho tells his own personal therapist, who was one of the few only people to hear that Jiho's been throwing up dark blue petals recently, all reserved for a smiling Jaehyo.