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An enthusiastic figure hung over the white-picket fence, his smile broadening features that perfected every aspect of his youthful demeanor as a small giggle, or perhaps what others would call an attention-seeking laugh, took on the very ambiance of allure. He was courteous and kind, intelligent and wise beyond his years, protective and nurturing in all the right ways that allowed people their space, and yet his attentiveness in regards to human emotions were almost always spot-on and rarely dogmatized by the world around him.
Placed in a spherical tomb with nowhere else to go had constantly led him perched upon that very threshold that separated him from the teen who settled himself under the canopied leaves above. Smiling eyes looked upon the bark neither of them could claim as their very own, for the very roots of it stood along the borderline that made the marvelous oak tree ’theirs’. He could remember, a long long time ago, little fingers reaching out and touching those dark silk tresses that purposely sent his cheeks flaring in immense elation. A giggle here and a trill of laughter there didn’t stir the slumbering male from the tranquil realms beyond his bleak reality, but it did send his face leaning into the warmth emanated in the palm of his hand. It was a marvelous sight. The way lips smeared upon the base of his thumb had been an indescribable feeling forever locked into the valves and veins that made up his heart.
Each sensation encouraged the little boy to press on beyond the boarders that separated them both, his knees hoisting up and wedging against the fence as he bent forward to expose the arm that succumbed to the other‘s touch. What happened next began in a blink of an eye. A sudden tug pulled him up and over the fence, his world spun, the vast expanse of blue settled in view and his entire body was supported back against the other’s lap. Almost instinctual, the boy laughed while arms cradled him, supported him, and gave him that spark of hope that no matter what happened, those strong limbs would eternally be his to have, his to hold, and his to bury those smiling features right into as joy permeated the air. “You’ll always be there, won’t you?” Jungbae clung to him as if he was a new toy no one in their right mind would ever lay their filthy hands upon, because everyone knew how possessive he was and the efforts he’d go through to claim what was his and no other.
The smile hidden safely against the crook of his arm finally slipped from the shadows and looked into the light of the other‘s effortlessly curved lips full of what passion was all about. Eyes went aflutter once fingers began to stream into his hair, nails comfortingly dragging against his scalp as the child tilted his head back into each motion widening the corners of his lips. “If you’re always smiling, there’s no reason for me to go anywhere, right?” None at all; the question was invalid, stupid, idiotic, and pointless because Jungbae knew, from where ever their souls laid, there was no way he’d stop smiling for him no matter what life threw at the one who made promise after despicable promise that their joy would last for as long as they both lived.
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[******** up didn’t begin to describe the night Yeongsu revealed a side of himself that littered his eyes in both the pain and the agony one felt whenever a heart ached, or his mind swelled with thoughts and emotions his body couldn’t accept. [******** up had failed to describe the dawning twilight of his life when his past literally came back to haunt the blonde whose nails threatened to draw blood when they clawed and mauled at his very own hand. For all it was worth, [******** up was far from portraying the will-power it took for him to make a call he thought he was going to regret for a lifetime. But he couldn’t help it. How could anyone blame him for dialing the familiar number that once sent his happiness soaring through the roof? How could anyone every look down upon the man who tried his damn hardest to ignore what his delusional heart yearned for? Jin wasn’t answering his phone. He didn’t return to the studio like he was told. The lost little lamb who only every abided to his every whim went astray and it seemed his own body was doing the same. Jun made a call, he spouted out an address, the throbbing began in his chest and took over his entire body when he found his way into an aquatic center he use to always visit when life was simple, and they all took each coming day one step at a time.
Tired as he was, Jungbae kept his mind alert even as sharks swam overhead, those wondrous creatures keeping his attention for a long while as their razor-sharp eyes appeared lifeless beyond the plexigass they were ensnared in. He wasn’t sure how long he was there or why he waited beyond the minute he mentally allowed himself, but he stood there, gawking at life beyond the vast blue that emulated the sky.
At that moment, attentiveness, awareness and every ounce of vigilance slowly faded away into a void where he felt so empty, he almost overlooked the arms that held him as tightly as ever. The other’s grasp numbed every part of his body, as the hallow sensation loomed upon eyes that enveloped a kind of darkness he failed to describe. He couldn’t move even when his mind cursed the body pressed against his back, couldn’t say a word as the apologies fell hotly against his neck, and just couldn’t push him away because a part of him still remembered how much he cared about him, how much he once wanted a future with him and how he had entrusted him with the heart that was now as cold as steel.
He slowly raised a trembling hand in hopes, with what little strength he had left, he could pry that traitorous, god-forsaken arm away from him and lash out just as he did back at the studio. He couldn’t stand him! He wish the ******** was dead the moment he stepped back into this life! What he wanted was a way out and he couldn’t understand why Shin couldn’t give it to him. The anger, the spite he harbored and the resentment beckoned for a chance to say everything that he needed to say, but he stopped midway with his head dipped forward in despair. Fingers hooked desperately onto the arm crossed over his chest, each breath pressed against his skin reminding him what it would’ve been like to enjoy a past that had long since been forgotten. “You were the one that left us. You were the one that turned your back on me.” Shallow breaths quietly heaved out his every word, the pain tightening his vocal cords whenever his mind flooded with the memories of Shin’s smile, his words, his promises…his everything. “You were my bestfriend. You were…you were…” Teeth gritted, his words stammered out of control, and the acids deep at the pit of his stomach invaded every inch of his body that withered under his tightened embrace. He refused to let him go. Just as he did back when words fell so warmly against his skin, Jun sharply turned his head in attempt to overlook the lies that hit his ears. “I didn’t want to hurt you Jungbae.” His claims sounded so lovely when spoken behind a façade Jun tried to believe. “The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you and Jinhwa the way I did. I’m sorry. I‘m so sorry I wasn‘t there. I‘m sorry that I left you. I‘m sorry Jun. I‘m sorry. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take everything back.” The apologies could work like cupid’s arrow and hit straight into his heart, its lethal tip draped with the venoms love was always known to originate from, but it was bullshit.
It was all bullshit!
Jun turned around to get a good look at his pathetic face, as hands grappled and nails dug into the collar of his shirt. He had all the pent up anger in the world that would’ve pushed him away and could’ve sent fist flying like he did before. But the difficulties were ever present in his wavering gaze that couldn’t quite look the other in the eye. Jungbae flung his arms forward, pushed him away, and attempted to let Shin go with a fist retracting for a blow, but…for some reason, he couldn’t do it. Not because he was afraid or he was convince that the other was telling the truth, but because Shin physically stopped him from doing so. Wrists were captured in his unrelenting hold that kept the blond from executing the violence his vengeful heart sought out for. They began to move and with each step Shin took forward, Jun was forced to take one back with the struggles pitting the anger in his eyes. “You’re a ******** liar! You were just ******** around with me for the kicks and that was it! Just admit it you stupid b***h!” With all his might, he tried to break away from his captor, bucked and thrashed just for the chance to damage his pretty face, but everything - his efforts, his willpower, his strength all went in vain.
Sharply contrasting with the heat that pressed against his back not to long ago, a chill suddenly engrossed his spine as Shin pushed him up against the glass that displayed a whole new world beyond the anthropogenic sea. Jun’s stubbornness sent his arms pulling away from its cool surface, only for hands to pin them back in its place yet again. “Why did you come back?” His breath shuddered in immense frustration and to make matters worse, the restraints put him at an all-time low as it placed him under the mercy of that piercing stare he loathed the moment it emerged. “Because you’re pushing Jinhwa away.” The audacity! “I wanted to make sure that you knew you’re purposely pushing him away and if you keep going at it…” The nerve! “You’re going to lose him.” How dare he even feed him this crap! Jun felt the weight of his words strengthening his defenses faster than Shin had a chance to gather another round of bullshit he really didn’t need to listen to. His body absorbed the tremors of his own anger bustling like a storm that brewed at the very core of his soul; As if he even had a soul, but still, Jun couldn’t take the accusations wounding him far more deeper than the past ever could.
Jin meant the world to him. He sacrificed his entire life, his dreams and his career to cater to Jin’s ever whim because the happiness he felt long ago only ever truly existed beyond that white-picket fence where Jin had pulled him into his arms. But he didn’t remember. What they shared, the smiles that were supposed to engrave in their hearts, the laughter and their promises sealed with an entwinement of their pinky fingers, were all lost in a blink of an eye and it was all his fault. He couldn’t change it even if he sold his soul to the devil himself because there was absolutely nothing he could do.
“You can’t keep on suffocating him with the anger that’s only mines to bare only.” The sympathy in Shin’s eyes further twisted the knife Jin had constantly plunged right into him every time he made contact with that damnable cretin of a dancer he wanted so much to get rid of. Jun quietly shook his head, eyes draped in a sheet of denial hidden under dark forelocks. “You have to give him his space or you‘ll regret it.” But how could he? Jun was so afraid to lose him, so frightened of the little distance between them that his fears completely took over without his consent. He was completely lost in his own insecurity that he was convince he couldn’t possibly just let Jin wonder off with someone who didn’t deserve him. Soyoung was a spineless ********, an inconsiderate a** and an arrogant b***h who couldn’t get it through his thick skull that Jin didn’t need him nor anyone like him in his life.
But if that was true, then why does he always insist on being near that infuriating ******** ?
What exactly made Jin refuse him when Jun and Yuhan bumped into them in the hall? Why didn’t Jin push Soyoung away like everyone else? What made him so special from the rest of the world Jin refused to understand? It didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t piece it together and as much as he tried to understand, there was not an ounce of logic to everything that came to mind.
Jun attempted to struggled out of Shin’s hold once more, but it was no use. His determination and his reasons for doing so was far too weak, too pathetic, too worthless and too stupid for him to fight against because fear had already overcome his anger once the realization was made that someday, without so much as a hint of warning, Jin would leave him again just as he did before. If he left, if even so much as decided to deem Jun unworthy of his presence, it only meant he’d have to go back - go back to the memories, the pain, the agony and the torment that brought those scalding tears to his eyes.
“Why can’t everyone leave us alone? Just leave us the ******** alone.” Quiet as it was, Jun was still able to conveyed his message with lips quivering far too much than he was able to control. A lift of his head revealed the tears filled with an immeasurable amount of pain no one could have the heart to refrain from wiping away and as such, Shin released the hand that dropped limply at Jun’s side as fingers caressed the pale, wet cheek that followed and seemed to obey the warmth gliding effortlessly across his bottom lip. It was mystifying at first, rather confusing in the seconds that followed when Shin closed the little distance between them.
But never would it go any further.
Jun had a free hand to shove him as far away as he possible could, and yet the hesitation lingered with the comforting sensations paralyzing all efforts to stop what shouldn’t have begun. He could practically feel the other’s breath pulling him in and for all it was worth, he had the peace of mind to eventually turn his head away from lips that ventured far too close to home. “Don’t pull this s**t. Get the hell away from-” But he had said it so many times before? Whether the demand came out with a smile or begrudgingly fell from stern lips, there was always that need to ignore it, the desire to bypass the hate, the anger and the defiance Jun upheld because if Shin simply obeyed, there was no hope in reconciling the misunderstanding that broke them apart.
He didn’t mean to be so rough, didn’t intentionally try to evoke the shock in Jun’s eyes when he took his chin and directed his gaze solely upon him and him alone. It was stupid to infer that time stood still when the entwinement of lips took his breath away. But if that wasn’t so, and he could move beyond the restricting hold of his reality, then why didn’t he broke of the passion that sparked at the very tip of his tongue? Why did Jun bite furiously at his nemesis’s lips and subjected his senses into a passion that plunged and engrossed his tongue amongst the hot wet vice at the back of the other’s throat? Why was it, that whenever his mind told him to deny Shin’s advances and reject the supple groans spreading the heat throughout his body, Jun would defy and pretend as if the feverous cloud wiped his thoughts clean of the consequences that drew near?
Jun hated him with a passion. He couldn’t stand him, couldn’t be near him, couldn’t come to think of a day when adoration ever conjured up between them because the hate just went and ******** up the happy memories that might as well have been lost in a void of no return. That strong detestation conveyed in the raw animalistic intensity that bit down at the other’s lip enough to draw the slight tinge of blood that should’ve pulled Shin away. But he persisted onwards, ramming Jin’s back into the glass wall as some form of punishment that would put the blonde in his place. But how wrong of him to assume such delusional things because as the small whimpered cry surfaced at the sudden jolt of pain that hit his spine, it only encouraged him to retaliate. A small distance was shared and as quick as ever, Jun tilted his head back and sharply snapped forward as foreheads collided in a mind-splitting impact that reversed Shin’s steps away from him. He didn’t have time to recover, and why would Jun even give him that luxury when he deserved everything that unfolded thereafter.
The violence broke out as quickly as the passion ended and without constraint, Jun tackled Shin to the floor, a closed fist hovering in midair ready to strike; but just as he was about to let gravity take its course, the hesitation came back with full force as questions filtered the night air. “What gives you the right?” His throat tangled in knots, but in spite of his best efforts to control himself, the pain he evidently felt still lingered in his voice. “Jin needed you! I needed you but you left us. I had to take care of him, rebuild our lives after you decided to betray us and here you are, telling me you came back to make sure Jin wouldn’t leave me again. That’s ******** bullshit!!! The day he leaves me is the day I die and guess what, I’m not letting anyone come between us...not even you.” He did it once and he’d do it again. Jun would protect Jin to the ends of time because that was what love and devotion was all about. No one had what they had, no one shared a past like they had, and no one could compare to what they felt for each other because even if Jin forgot, Jun would always be there to remind him that at the end of every path that came his way, he’d be standing there with a smile he promised to keep for him a long time ago. And if anyone obstructed their paths, he’d curl his hands into a fist and fight his way through them no matter what it took.
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'I believe nothing's gonna' change destiny. Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly.'
Or so he thought.
The implication of his own words was a misconception of hope, a deterrent of an already dilapidating reality, and a dependence on a fantasy that’ll never be. His optimistic views worked like a parasite and delved deep into the notions of deception where battles began and smiles were made. The tendency to ‘turn his frown upside’ whenever clouds loomed overheard had always been who he was, what he was, and the emotions he portrayed when nightmares broke through the realms of the 21st century. Drugs, brawls, discrimination, deception, poverty, onslaughts of violence, prostitution, molestation, cyber warfare; you name it…the list goes on and on, and on in a never-ending cycle taking hold of the souls that lost their reasons to smile, laugh and enjoy what life brought them. In most cases, when layering the negativity in his head on a scale subjected to nothing but torment, Taejun would have every means to lower his gaze, hide his eyes behind the shadows of his own despair and let go of a part of himself that believed in redemption, reconciliation and restoration. And that was when the question arise:
What happens when there was not a trace of bliss left in their already damnable world?
Someone had to look toward the sky and find the silver-lining where happiness, hope, honor and their little piece of heaven remained. With the sun beaming down on their skin, the warm, summer breeze licking at their cheek and fingers slowly combing through his hair, he could sense that the setting was, and always will be, the semblance of happiness that kept his hope alive. Even when that special someone was missing, he still found the landscape something to marvel over as he leaned back into the lap Jin provided. “Why didn’t Jun come with us? He seemed mad when I wanted to come here. Was that wrong? Maybe we shouldn‘t have left without him.” Always contradicting himself; it was second nature for Jinhwa to question everything and anything that came to mind.
Taejun assumed the rippling tides from afar, the sand and the ambiance of a summer getaway would free his mind from the predicament that slammed a door in his face, but it did that of the opposite. “Jungbae just hates the beach. He doesn’t know how to have fun.” He met Jin’s gaze that smothered in all perplexity, his fingers pausing for a second as lips contorted into a pout. “But he always says he’s the definition of fun.” Taejun laughed and nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, of course he is,” he genuinely claimed. “But you see…well…how can I put this…the thing about Jun and the beach is that he has this sort of symbolic fear towards it ever since you left. If he doesn‘t really have to be here, he won‘t…or at least he refuses to.” Call it abandonment issues, a psychological break from reality, a nuisance or simply just a reason to deny his fears as best as he could. Whatever it may be, no one could really understand what went on in Jun or Jin’s head. “Why did you leave anyways?” On instant, Jin’s puckered lips morphed into a solemn line that accentuated the void in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first. The little holes of silence merely welcomed the waves his gaze distantly glued upon for what seemed like an hour. “I didn’t belong. No one needed me here.”
“How can you say that? Jun was right there, wasn’t he?” Jin shrugged. “He was always there, but all I did was cause a lot of trouble for him. He‘d worry about me a lot, get into fights because of the things I did; he protected me and told me he would drop out of school just to follow me where ever I went. I didn‘t want him to let go of his own future just for me.” Was that all? Jin made no effort to continue or defend his case and with the emotionless expression rendering his words silent, it was understood that no other explanation would come about. Tajun laid upon the sand with a neutral view of the dilemma, his mind stirring with things he should’ve said to uplift the mood, but it seemed Jin was still hung up by past decisions. “Wasn’t he happy when I left? You were with him, weren’t you? I mean, I always thought about him and what he was doing every day. I just always pictured him smiling and laughing, and enjoying life without me.” But it was far from rainbows and sunshine that implemented in the sky of what Jin assumed, because what brewed overhead was instead a monstrous storm riddled with pain, blood, and the cries of the world all packed into one burdensome cloud.
The lies perched at the tip of Taejun’s tongue was the remedy Jinhwa needed to enjoy the day, but despite the evident cure prodding at the forefront of his mind, the male’s own personal morals just couldn’t atone to such lies and deception. “He had a hard life. Jungbae cried almost every day and if he wasn’t crying, he was angry and upset with himself for letting you go. The love he had for you was nothing anyone could break without a fight. You leaving…it just tore him apart.” Each languid sweep of Jin’s fingers upon the other’s scalp represented the emotions that stirred within his heart. Fingers were weak, the motions behind them were fragile and almost untraceable; the direction in which it repetitiously went through had gone astray - lost in the strands of black that portrayed the nightmarish shadows of the dark. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad because it’s like the saying goes: everything happens for a reason. If you didn’t leave, I wouldn’t have met Jun, we wouldn’t be here; J, Yoon, Kazuma, and everyone we care about would’ve gone to god knows where because what we have now wouldn’t exist. How we got here was unfortunate and sad, but we’re here, we’re happy and that’s what matters, right? Don’t you think so?” Looking at the brighter side to things was his specialty. When tears were shed or if anger was had amongst the group, Taejun would get in between with a whole new perspective on life. He wanted Jin to look at the bigger picture of it all and for a moment, they shared that same optimistic view.
But at the same time, the small smile still lingered with a sadness Jin couldn’t contain.
“I am happy and Jun’s always smiling…everyone is. But I just wish I could do and saying things without always hurting other people.”
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And wasn’t that everyone’s objective toward a fulfilling and blissful life?
To ignore one’s faults and gaze upon a portrait filled with fantasy was like looking at a world shrouded in an impenetrable cloud. Like a mask or a convincing façade, what Jin had said those many years ago resembled a reverie of the sort that could never come true. “Because I’m not perfect.” The air stilled when the confession faintly brightened the features that was still at the mercy of Jun’s fist. “What the hell does perfection have to do with any of this!” He shook his head, his body resting heavily upon the concrete floor. Jun’s antagonistic form pinned him in place with nowhere else to go and for all it was worth, it seemed it was where he was meant to be. “Everything,” he calmly breathed out. “You assume I’m not capable of making a mistake, but I’m only human. I shouldn’t have left, but there was no other way out of it. I was protecting you.” Jun couldn’t identify the truth anymore. With a mischievous laugh tainted in both disbelief and rage, the cynical display before him practically implied that whatever he said would never get through to him. “Protecting me?!” he spat out in mock laughter, his eyes welding the knives that delve right through flesh and bone. “All I needed protecting from was you and no one else! You’re an egotistical b*****d that only thought of yourself while you left the rest of us cleaning up your mess. But it didn’t matter, it never mattered! We got through it and when I thought you were out of our lives for good, you came back, steal our music and expect me to forgive you? What a load of bullshit.” But it wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. “Your debut songs could be better. It didn’t represent you at all and-”
“I’m not that prissy ******** you knew back then. So who are you to say what represents me or not. You don‘t even know me!!”
“And Jin doesn’t either!” It hit Jun to the very core of wounds left untreated. “If I of all people don’t know you, how do you expect Jin to remember the person he loved!?” He didn’t have the right to say all this. “How is he supposed to remember the smiles you reserved only for him!? But he had no choice. “How is Jin, the person you sacrificed so much for, supposed to enjoy the life you practically gave to him?” Whether he liked it or not, he needed to open Jun’s eyes to all the reasons why Taejun had no other choice but to force himself back into their lives. “How is he supposed to see the person he met when it was only you two together enjoying life near that white-picket fence? Jin remembers bits and pieces of his life, but you’re never there anymore to put it all back together again. You’re right,” and yet he wished he was wrong. “I don’t know you, because you let go of that person who really knew how to take care of Jin in the littlest ways that truly made him laugh and forget all the mistakes he made.”
Never had a tear touched his eyes or scathed the beautiful representation of happiness donned over Jin’s smile. Jungbae knew what to do and say to brush his woes aside because he acknowledged that what mattered the most was not the mistakes that occurred, but it was a type of effortless forgiveness that came second nature to him. If Jin screwed up an interview, said or did something that cut him short of a career or even implied the need to be forever alone, Jun would simply shake his head in response, draw his lips into a grin and tightly wrap his arms around him as oppose to indicting the blame that wasn’t his to take. “You told me once that all he ever asked of you was your smile and nothing more. But think back, when was the last time you wholeheartedly enjoyed yourself, the last time you grinned or laughed? When was it Jun?! When was the last time you were really you.” The threatening fist once suspended in the air had long since withdrew and clawed into Taejun’s chest, his fingers weakened by the blow of his claims. He always had a way with words - a way that no other could compare to because when mixed with the concern and genuine emotions splayed over his face, they were like accents of the heart penetrating his soul.
Without a word, Jungbae swiftly got up and started down from whence he came. Just as he did all those years ago, Jun turned his back on him as he walked away from his problems, his pain, the troublesome emotions that came with it, and especially from the truth. Taejun followed after him and stopped him in place. As strange as it was, they both stood silently under the glass tunnel for minutes on end as Taejun refused to let him go. It wasn’t as if Jungbae fought back or gave any inclination of bursting into another violent fit because as the silence lingered on, all Jun could do was gaze up at the carnivorous predators that swam above. “They don’t give a s**t about anyone, you know that? Sharks attack whatever they want, devour their own kin and leave no traces of their existence behind. Relationships doesn’t mean a thing when it’s always survival of the fittest.”
“But those are the reasons why you don’t like them.”
“Until now.” The correction followed with a distant and disconsolately vehement glare that struck Taejun cold in diffidence. “It’s easy to relate to a creature whose life is just as ******** up as mines. So I warn you now, if you get involved with me or Jin in any way again, I won’t stop from making your life a living hell.” The dark and heavy tone weighed down over the male who, for the first time in a long while, had saw no flicker of hope in Jun’s eyes. Such a deadpan stare put him in his place and with a tug of his wrist, Jun slipped away from his grasp, walked away, and never dared to look back.
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A different and abstracted spectrum of the universe unraveled a contorted, distorted and dilapidated representation of their stark reality. Everything to the eye portrayed such simplicity nowadays, that true meaning behind ordinary objects were dull in comparison to what they truly were. For instance, while a line was a simple horizontal or vertical mark slashed down the middle where fantasy and fiction laid, a true artist defined that same line as a meaningful expression beyond what the imagination could ever come to dream of. Hard, soft, irregular, jagged, sharp, diagonal, or implied: there were varying uses for each type of line that sketched a portrait for all to marvel over, as the mixtures of mediums, colors and techniques took their captors to a whole other world. The experience differed from one person to the next; for emotions were never symmetrical nor were artist enthusiast ever forced to harbor any feelings at all, and yet the admiration of one’s work was expected when someone practically pours their very hearts and souls into a piece that was worth looking upon a thousand times over.
Or in Al[tria]’s case…they were a piece of art worth hearing.
Kazuma lightly etched at the small white canvas of a simple sheet of paper; but really, how could anything be ordinary in his imaginative eyes. Every little detail meant the world to him. What he saw, what he felt - how little things stood before him and exuded a type of emotion that took a hold of him whenever something as insignificant as paper, or as simple as a flower, went on to become something so magnificent, it was a wonder how anyone could ever overlook the process of true beauty. Lightly his fingers dabbed, carefully his eyes formed the shapes and textures his imagination splurged wildly through his head, and effortlessly, their concept came to life in all its abstraction. He was almost completely lost in that other dimension of his artistic universe, when suddenly a bland mutter of concern came from the man seated beside him. “Was it right to let Jun wonder off like that? You know what he’s going to do, right? It’s pretty obvious, if you ask me.”
Escaping from reality meant trying as hard as he could to ignore the problematic issues that circled the entire group. Jinhwa was angry and confused. Yeongsu was equally, if not entirely, perplexed on the whole situation at hand. Jungbae took the very throne of the underworld for all he knew, and Ryo had his own issues with technology. Every single one of them was on edge and it created an environment Kazuma found a need to retreat from. “I tried talking to him, but it’s impossible. He always wants to find a reason to get upset. It’s built into him and I know it’s wrong for us to let him wonder off like that, but we do have to understand where he’s coming from. Or at least try to look at the situation in another light.” There is an undertone in everyone’s thoughts and actions.
There was a reason, expectations and especially a vision to complete what has already been started.
An unfinished piece of work it was and, much to his disappointment, Kazuma had no other alternative to stop an already hectic stroke of bad luck. “I guess.” Ryoma said with a shrug. “That b*****d tore into my hard drive, tapped into my mainframes, completely wiped my memory clean, and on top of all that, I don’t know how much I can recover. Taejun deserves whatever Jun-baby dishes out.” Arlee rolled into a bundle on Ryoma’s lap, indulging herself in the love Jun seemed to deprive her of on a daily basis.
While movements were had, Kazuma would observe. He always had an eye for the littlest of things. While someone would admire the shimmer of Arlee’s fur and her wet nose smearing onto the palm of Ryoma’s hand, Kazuma had the tendency to think of the chaotic night they had and how those anarchic emotions could convey and depict into the vibrant movements of Arlee’s tail. Wind and air was invisible to the naked-eye, but illustrating such a disturbed concept with pastel colors and vigorous strokes would bring about his feelings, his emotions and the muddled thoughts that went back to each punch Jun inflicted upon the one he once called his friend. Life was always complicated these days, and it seemed the only way to escape the mess running a torrent through his head was to see the world as a unique work of art. In so many ways he couldn’t understand, the people in his life took on an abstract painting as their traits, beliefs, ambitions, and everything that made them who they were, defined them on a level that constructed them as such a portrait implied: abstract. He loved certain sides of them, admired bits and pieces that influenced his strict perspective on reality, and fawned over parts of the soul that made other people feel alive whenever they drew near. What he referred to was Yeongsu’s ambitions, Jin’s kindness, Jun’s protective nature, Ayako’s free spirit, Hanuel’s strength, Ryo’s creativity and especially Key’s outright personality.
Kazuma was a shy, quiet and was an introverted individual way back when art didn‘t matter; Hence his choice in seeking an occupation behind the scenes as a lyricists. Socially awkward didn’t come close in describing how enclosed he really was when party invitations were sent his way, and smiles and greetings sent his eyes dodging lashes that flutter and glossed lips that painted a smile upon the beautifully impeccable porcelain canvass women possessed. He’d always have crushes, always fell in love so quickly strictly by looks alone because his distance with people in general prevented him from experiencing the soul behind their pretty faces. Being an artist, it was all about proportions, symmetry and the exuberant personality that portrayed upon a person’s face whenever a smile would arise. The love he felt was merely for the purpose of shattering through the iron gates that contained his true potential as a freelance artist. Whatever the subject may be, Kazuma was a type of artist who expressed himself though the ordinary to the most outlandish mediums one could ever think of. Whether it be Legos, sand, a plain piece of brown packing tape, spray paint, clay, chalk or metal, they’d be the mediums to interpreting his imagination that spanned beyond the farthest breaches of the universe.
Diverse personalities served in differentiating the ordinary from the extraordinary and it wasn’t until 3 years ago did his own personal muse appeared with a smile. His brows weren’t neatly sculpted then as it was now, but merely glancing upon him for the segment of the show he was on made quite an impression upon the artist who quickly dove for a sketch pad. His name was Kim Kibum. What he instantly remembered was how the unique dimensions of his face captivated a side of him that began outlining his profile with speed and precision. From the light, almost unnoticeable scar at his brow, to the dimpled indention that enriched his smile, Kazuma’s creative juices poured onto the paper as page after page warned the material with Key’s eyes, his lips, his cheeks and a monochromic tint of his skin that defined his muse. Inspiration came so much more easier when paint slathered onto the bland plains of white he’d etch and sketch until ideas formed onto the canvas with ease. As Key blossomed into an eccentric and blunt individual with his own sense of style, Kazuma’s perspective upon the world also grew with him. When stuck in a rut or if the dreaded block plagued his mind, the random process of unraveling ideas bombarded him with sketches that accentuated Key’s identity. A poetic representation of his clothes and his ambitions took on a life of its own and fingers created a piece that was well worth a second, maybe a thousand glances by the way colors blended and lines devoted to the shape that was Kazuma’s inspiration.
When it happened or how it occurred was of no concern to him because when he started drawing, he’d be lost and that’s when he felt another pair of eyes glancing over his work. “Key?” Seeing the diva’s image in black and white was like taking a knife and skinning his taste buds alive. Ryoma grimaced at the sight, taking his gaze out the window as he preferred to admire the passing scenery. “Having wet dreams are we? That‘s kinky Kazu-kun.” The jeer sent a red tent onto the lyricist’s face, his composure stirred as he slammed his sketchbook shut. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Okay~ If you say so Kazu-kun, but just to get it out there, if you’re fond of him, I think you’ll have your chance sooner than you think.” Once the cab came to a halt, Ryoma stepped out and took a breath of fresh air with Kazuma following close behind. “My chance? What are you talking about? I told you it’s nothing like that and besides, Yeongsu and Key are an item.” Ryo smirked that mischievous smirk that meant nothing but trouble. It flashed right over his shoulder, his eyes disguising a plot that already began thickening between him and his captor as no one had a single clue what was going on. Kazuma trailed behind Ryoma’s retreating figure with not much thought put into the malice his bold lips displayed. Secrets were always kept under close surveillance so it was no surprise to him when Ryo retreated to the kitchen table as soon as they got into their apartment. “How long are you going to stay out here? Don’t forget we have a performance tomorrow.”
“I have to assess the damage before I go to bed. From the looks of it, it’ll take me a few hours. So don’t worry, I promise I’ll restrain myself from fondling you between the sheets.” A joke. It was all it was and Kazuma was far too exhausted to retort with a pathetic response that would’ve only encouraged the banters to begin. Taking shots at his sexuality had been a routine neither of them really grew out of ever since they first met. While Ryoma stabbed at Kazuma’s unwillingness to explore the wonders of homosexuality and bisexuality alike, the artist of the sort would verbally paint Ryo a picture of exactly why he’d much prefer the dips and curves a women’s physique portrayed. What he spoke of was merely a front to get the (somewhat) caligynephobia off his back. In all truth, never had he experienced the touch of a women’s skin or a simple kiss upon scented lips because time was never on his side when he had so much to do. For all it was worth, the closest he ever got to experiencing true romance was through a series of his favorite Shojo mangas and he had to admit, that was pretty pathetic for a successful 18 year old well on his way to fame. But how can he help it. Talking to the opposite sex was like pulling teeth. It was painful, difficult, unnerving and embarrassing when he surely wasn’t as suave as Yeongsu or as charming as Jungbae when he took the time in swaying a girl off her feet.
He was dull and that was that.
After a long, hot shower and brushing his teeth with those depressing thoughts in mind, the brunette found himself falling back into his bed with a manga held in outstretched arms. He’d read for the remainder of the night while seconds turned into minutes, as those comfortable minutes drifted off into tranquil hours that sent his mind soaring through the motion of love’s own rollercoaster ride. His senses went adrift and slurred his surroundings into an incomprehensible blur. Colors diluted, shapes and figures contorted, the entire picture of his reality transformed into a minute realm his senses paid no heed of. The hinges of the door would creak, footsteps heard, and a figure identified, yet there was no reaction to the intruder until his book was snatched and thrown violently across the room. Frustration and anger buried into the folds of his shirt as a small, yet strong and demanding body huddled close at his side. A head full of blond hair honed his attention upon a site that was sadly expected the moment Kazuma regrettably let Jun wonder off by himself. In the state he left, it was only obvious he’d come back pouring his heart out with an arm tightly draped over and around his chest. “This is so ******** stupid,” he mumbled with extreme heartache clinging to the whimpers that sounded thereafter. “Jun…”
“He’s a ******** a*****e. Why did he have to come back? Things were going okay without him. Things were going back to how they were supposed to be. Everything was perfect. His words caught in the muffled cries burying his tear-filled eyes further and further into the chest that was provided to him. There was no other choice. Whenever Jinhwa was far out of reach, the only alternative to a comforting embrace relayed in Kazuma’s arms. He didn’t mind, didn’t really have a reason to complain about the turn of events because when a friend was in need, Kazuma would always be there no matter who was at fault. It was always awkward at first - fingers racking slowly through golden lock of hair, while an arm supported and circled around Jun’s shoulders in a comforting manner- but when time passed right on by, the slight discomfort was as distorted as Peter Smolenski’s abstracted works of art.
After a few minutes or so, Jungbae turned his head off to the side, still finding that little ounce of comfort in the subtle rise and fall of Kazuma’s chest as he remained there, lying silently in his arms. “Was changing myself the right thing to do?” There was another moment of silence before Kazuma gathered his opinions into a reply that was neither pessimistic nor heartless in any way. “You’re not entirely changed. You’re still you…just a really abrasive you.” Jun let out a sigh, allowing the tears to quietly roll down his cheek. “Why don’t you ever have the balls to tell it like it is? Admit it, I’m the reason why everything’s turned to s**t. I messed up and our lives are going downhill from there.”
“We’re in a band under one of the most prestigious companies in South Korea. I don’t see the negativity in that.” But Jun thought otherwise. “Our careers going down the right path…but us; it’s like we’re falling apart. Jun and I…we’re…It’s not like it use to be.” Like it use to be? Kazuma had almost forgot how it use to be when they were practically like brothers watching each other’s backs and being there when the other called his name. What they had could have been called something along the lines of a picture-perfect family. “You’re protective of him. It’s understandable after all you two had gone through.” It seemed unjustifiable.
His unwavering understand toward the situation caused Jun to tense up slightly because he knew, deep down where denial usually laid, Kazuma was sugar-coating his every word. “Cut the bullshit, alright. You know how I am when I know you’re ******** lying to my face.” As sharp as ever. Nothing was ever going to change, everything would continue as it was meant to be because what was the use in altering who Jun had willfully become. Kazuma never considered the glimpse of another self a bad thing. What the world saw and what Kazuma experienced in that moment was a brief viewing of a person that concealed his emotions as best as he knew how. “It’s the truth Jun. You’ve gone through a lot. You’re not the person you were all those years ago, but that’s what happens when you have to adapt. You really expect to stay the same after getting taken advantage of for so long?” Jun tensed as he expected, the hold upon him tightening with each breath he took. “It’s hard to think about or even talk about, which is why I always try to remind you that I’m here if you need me. It’s really the least I can do after you showed me who I was meant to be.” Reminiscing about his past for a few minutes brought a soft smile on his face, his fingers unconsciously streaming through locks of hair as a moment of silence was shared between them. “You don’t owe me nothing. I was only there to knock the stupid right out of you.” Kazuma chuckled. “Knock the stupid right out of me? Now that’s a great way of putting it,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “But I’m serious Jun, you shouldn’t face your problems alone. We’re here for a reason. Jin and I…maybe Ryoma as well…will listen and do whatever we can to help you.”
A quick and discreet glance revealed a distant stare penetrating straight through the plaster Jun refused to take his eyes off of. He was sifting through his thoughts it seems and Kazuma couldn’t say or do anything but give him the time he needed to reflect on his words. “It’s just ******** hard and it hurts to know that Jin won’t need me anymore.” The insecurities piled on with one vulgar word after another. His brute insults careened over the edge of murderous intentions as it surrounded a certain dancer Kazuma grew to admire for his profound patience and endurance. With Yeongsu hounding him over the littlest things and Jun hurling the threats with every chance he got, Kazuma was surprised, yet mostly glade Soyoung hadn’t turned in his resignation when he had the chance. He felt so bad for him, which is why he defended him however he could, but of course, he could only do so much for him. “I wouldn’t need to get so ******** angry if he just stayed away from him.”
“What do you think Soyoung will do? I don’t think he’s the type that would hurt Jin.”
“Oh really?” Thickly and most menacingly, the quick inquiry raised a brow his way as Jun’s chin apprehensively rested upon folded arms. “That’s what we thought about Yung hee and look where it got us.” That vile wench of a woman deserved more than what hell’s inferno could dish out because insurmountable torture didn’t live up to the anguish and immense suffering that she inflicted upon his family. The very thought of it unintentionally clawed his nails into the other’s chest, causing Kazuma to flinch slightly as he adjusted in the blonde’s hold. “We thought she was perfect. We stupidly thought they were meant for each other because that ******** b***h knew how to act as if she loved him, as if she could live her life with him because she put on a flawless ******** show as if being with Jin was all she desired and hoped for. But she dumped him in the pouring rain, dumped him off the side of the road because she got what she wanted and ran off with all the money that we all earned!! Recovering all that we lost was a b***h and I’ll be damned to make the same mistake again.” It was an art. Deception was really an impeccable art she had honed in on with her entire being and to think, with each precise stroke and influential note that lasted for nearly a year had revealed nothing more than a portrait dosed in tints of black, read and all the other spectrum of colors that depicted pure malevolency. When Jun put it that way, how could Kazuma defend someone that might have sought out more than Jin’s friendship? He was never a forgiving individual, but Kazuma looked at the bigger picture of it all and decided that the world wasn’t made out of one distinct character when there was a plethora of hope in differentiating colors. “ It wasn’t only because of the money, was it?”
“Why ask such a stupid question? We can earn money, but it’s harder to fix a heart that’s been abused too many times to count. Jin knows better than to put himself at risk again, which is why I don’t get why the ******** he’d hang around that little p***k.” Questions like those required a long stretch of time for him to think about, but it didn’t take long until Kazuma sighed and shrugged. “It’s a matter of changing. Maybe he doesn’t want to live in the past anymore.”
“But he should remember it so he doesn’t make the same mistakes again.”
“True,” he agreed without hesitation. “But how will he grow unless he makes a few more mistakes to find out what he really wants. It’s not like you’ll always be there forever. Doesn’t he have to learn to survive without you?” Jun grew quiet with a silent glare plastered upon him for a long while, before he turned his head and shifted his glowering gaze upon the white plastered wall. “He doesn’t need to learn how to live without me because I’ll be there. I’ll never leave him unless I’m dead and even then, I’m depending on you to make sure he’s alright.” Why was it that Jun would go so far as to pour his heart out and sacrifice his entire life for Jin, and yet did nothing to personally make him his and his alone. From what he noticed, they didn’t take their relationship beyond the brotherly display in which friendship had made them knotted to each other’s existence.
Jun kept a lot of things to himself and refused to disclose unnecessary information that many people weren’t permitted to know, because what happened in the past before Jun suffered the unimaginable, was only between him and Jin. “Of course. Even though he’s older than me, I think of him as a little brother and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to him that would put him in danger. But…” Jun begrudgingly sighed, inadvertently hinting his abhorrence to the many ‘buts’ Kazuma was always known to add in whenever the situation presented itself. “Just hear me out Jun. I know you care about him and you’ll do anything to see him happy, but you also have to give him some space to think. As much as you want to, you can’t think for him because what is he to this world if he can’t manage his own life. You have your own problems to deal with and he has his, so try and make it easier for yourself and brush off some of the weight from your shoulders. You’ll get too caught up in things and that’s when I get really worried about you.”
“Tch, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“But there is. I mean, what happened in the Philippines-”
“Don’t!” As quickly as ever, he snapped and rose his voice a few octaves over the norm as he clenched onto Kazuma’s chest once again. “Don’t go there.”
“But you didn’t tell anyone entirely what happened there. Maybe if you just opened up and-” The tremors that once resonated in his voice spread like a virus throughout his body. He couldn’t stop shaking even when suppressing them became a strict objective he’d punish his own body to subject to. But there was nothing to stop it, nothing that made the scars go away because with every thought that came to mind, the images of fury and sorrow would flash before his eyes. He’d breathe in so deeply Kazuma wasn’t sure of what to do but hold him and hope that what ran through his head would disperse as quickly as they came. “I just want to forget, okay. I don’t want to go back and I just want to go to sleep, alright? Can I take your bed, and can you sleep on the floor?” There was no point in talking him out of ignoring what was practically inescapable. “Yeah, sure." One day, things what be as it seems and for all he knew, Jun might run himself over the edge and that's when everything crumble from there. " I’ll just be right down here if you need anything.” And that is also how individual portraits went. Sometimes you’ll understand the entire meaning of it all, but in most cases, you’ll miss the mark and lead the representation of it soulful work of art into another direction. It was never in Kazuma’s place to question him, but it was who he was because being so worried and wanting to be there for others was a kind of trait that befell Yeongsu and transferred onto himself.
But sometimes, the best thing to do in these moments was to turn off the lights and sleep their troubles away.
