𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓮 @eu-nicolelouise - Tumblr Blog

𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 | k.sy

a/n: i kid you not. this fic was busted out in like 24 hours. dont ask how im capable of this sorcery bcs idk myself. on a much more angsty note, soonyoung im so sorry ilysm :( writing angst is my default mode, and i had literally no other ideas. writing this fic was a wild journey, and a little part of me broke because of all this angst, but maybe im just dramatic

thank you ro ( @shinysobi ) for telling me i should twin with our fics, because writing angst is like second nature. thank you rae ( @nerdycheol ) and yuki ( @eclipsaria ) for jumping onto this shipwreck with me and helping me save it (also for being my personal google throughout this fic) major shout-out to kirsten ( @naniwatig3r ) for coming in clutch with the finishing touch i needed to end this monster of a fic.

lastly, thank you bella ( @bella-feed ), sana ( @sanaxo-o ) and catalina ( @dokyumms ) for hosting this event and giving me a chance to write this fic! im usually always writing mingyu, so this was a good challenge :)

word count: 7.8k contents: soonyoung x f!reader , idol!au , idol!soonyoung , designer!reader , inspired by the song if you leave me by seventeen , angst , lots of angst , two (2) angsty rain scenes because rae encouraged me , friends to maybe lovers to wtf is happening dawg , reader is not likable , reader lives in self destruct mode , hurt no comfort , no happy ending , sorry hoshi my tiger baby

soonyoung is never the first one to leave the practice room. he’s the one that stays back after everyone’s gone home, practicing every step of the choreography down to it’s finest details.

lately, however, jihoon has been noticing the way soonyoung is the first to pack his things and leave the practice room, and it confuses him.

he doesn’t probe into this unusual behaviour. the smile soonyoung has on his face as he runs out is something he hasn’t seen much of either, so he lets it slide.

today, too, jihoon sees seungcheol walk up to soonyoung to invite him over for dinner and drinks, but soonyoung barely gives much of an explanation before he’s shaking his head, grabbing his bag, and leaving the room.

“weird boy,” seungcheol mutters to himself, and jihoon couldn’t agree any more.

. . . . .

“y/n! wait up!” a loud yell stops you in your tracks, and you turn to see someone run towards you, their hair covered with a cap, and a mask hiding their face.

other people walking past you on the sidewalk wouldn’t be able to recognize the person, but you could easily tell from the worn-out pink flannel shirt and the expensive sneakers that it was kwon soonyoung, a.k.a hoshi from seventeen, calling out your name.

“you idiot! why are you yelling in the middle of the street,” you whisper-yell when soonyoung is close enough to hear you. “what if someone recognizes you?”

“don’t worry, i’ll take care of it,” he replies, as enthusiastic as ever. “i’m sorry i’m running late, dance practice took a lot of time to wrap up. shall we go?”

it takes you a split second too long to realize that soonyoung is now holding your wrist and gently tugging you along with him towards the restaurant you both are now very familiar with. any other day, you would’ve told him to stop instantly, but today for some reason, you let your hand be held by the person you want but can’t have.

seokmin is sure he’s never seen soonyoung like this: prescription glasses hanging off his nose, new tablet clutched in his hands, and his tired body sprawled across the couch in his apartment. even his flatmate, hansol, shrugs his shoulders when seokmin silently gestures towards soonyoung.

“dokyeom-ah, i need your help with something,” soonyoung calls out, and seokmin warily approaches him, taking a seat on the couch and leaning over soonyoung’s shoulder to take a look at his screen.

“what are you doing?” seokmin asks, thoroughly confused by the poster displayed on soonyoung’s screen. “don’t tell me you’re leaving seventeen to become a graphic designer.”

“and leave you in BSS with seungkwan? no chance,” soonyoung laughs. “you have a good eye for designs and stuff, so i needed your opinion on this. doesn’t it look like it’s missing something?”

“what is this even for?” seokmin questions, eyes running over the words on the poster. “do you have a side hustle at a magazine?”

“it’s…. for a friend,” soonyoung says, not revealing much. “i told them i’d help them out, and i need you for that. i’ll buy you dinner tomorrow if you help, please?”

seokmin agrees easily, but he can’t help but wonder which friend of soonyoung’s is so close to him that they have him designing posters. he also can’t stop thinking about how soonyoung’s face had turned pink at the mention of this ‘friend.’

seokmin wonders if soonyoung’s friend is just a friend.

. . . . .

“this is genius,” you say, looking at the file soonyoung sent you. in the seat across from you, soonyoung squirms with happiness, his chest swelling with pride. “you really didn’t have to do all this, soonyoung. i thought you said you were only going to look for inspo pictures on pinterest.”

“i just had a random stroke of creativity,” soonyoung shrugs. “it’s not that big of a deal. besides, i haven’t forgotten about our deal.”

your shoulders deflate with the sigh you let out. “soonyoung, i never agreed to that deal. you know we can’t— we can’t be like that. and if you’re getting the wrong idea from all this, we can’t keep meeting anymore.”

you don’t think you’ve seen this much fear in soonyoung’s eyes, not since his trainee days, when he wasn’t sure if he’d even debut. but today, he looks scared, almost desperate, when he places his hand over yours just as you’re about to leave the table.

“don’t. don’t leave,” he shakes his head. “i’ll stop with the deal and everything, i promise. just don’t say you won’t let me see you anymore.”

you don’t hesitate to agree, not when every muscle in your body keeps you rooted to the chair at the restaurant that has seen you more than your parents have.

when soonyoung walks you home later that night, you almost blurt out an apology, but you know that apologizing for your own cowardice only proves that it’s real.

“are you done taking what you need?” junhui asks, looking down the aisle to see soonyoung waddling towards him, arms full of snacks and drinks.

“yep! all done,” soonyoung nods, carefully placing all the items in his arms in the basket junhui is carrying.

“when i said i’d pay for you, i didn’t intend on buying out the entire snack aisle,” junhui sighs, carrying the basket over to the cashier and placing it on the counter with a loud thud.

“you love me, and so does your wallet,” soonyoung replies with a cheeky grin, making exaggerated pouty faces at junhui.

junhui only rolls his eyes at soonyoung. he watches the cashier scan every item, when he notices something unfamiliar.

“wait, did you accidentally get the sour lemon gummies? i thought you didn’t like sour stuff?” junhui asks, and soonyoung’s eyes widen like he’s been caught stealing food off mingyu’s plate.

“it’s not for me,” soonyoung replies awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. he’s saved from further questioning when the cashier reads out the total bill amount and junhui fishes his wallet out from his pocket.

later, when they’re outside the convenience store, junhui reaches into the grocery bag to retrieve the lemon gummies. “so, who is this for? is it your token of appreciation for me?”

“you wish,” soonyoung scoffs, snatching the packet out of junhui’s hands. “it’s for someone else.”

“and is this ‘someone’ the ‘friend’ you were helping out last week?” junhui raises an eyebrow at him. “seokmin told me about it.”

“how does it matter even if it is?” soonyoung crosses his arms defensively. “they’re just a friend, that’s all.”

the sigh that leaves soonyoung’s mouth after that sentence makes junhui think that maybe a friendship isn’t what soonyoung wants from his ‘friend.’

. . . . .

“wait, you remembered i like these?” you gasp, seeing the packet of lemon-flavoured jellies in soonyoung’s hands when he meets you at your usual restaurant.

“well, friends remember things about each other,” soonyoung states matter-of-factly. “good friends do at least, because you don’t seem to remember a thing about me.”

“i never said i was going to be a good friend to you,” you retort, holding back a laugh at soonyoung’s unconscious pout when you tease him. “anyway, i didn’t say i needed any help today. why did you ask me to meet you for dinner?”

“you came, didn’t you?” soonyoung challenges. “it’s a routine for me now, anyway, and i didn’t feel like breaking it.”

you feel taken aback momentarily, realizing that no matter how much you’re always shutting down soonyoung’s advances, you almost always say yes to him. clearing your throat, you say, “since you called me, it’s your treat.”

“i don’t mind paying,” soonyoung chuckles. “go on, order whatever you want.”

after dinner, and after soonyoung has walked you back to your house, you lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling. your phone is lazily clutched in your hand, fingers itching to pull up soonyoung’s contact and text him, i remember. i remember things about you. i remember the way you scrunch your nose when you want to stop yourself from sneezing, the way you push your hair back with your hands when you feel frustrated, the way you smile at someone when you’re in love with them.

—

to: kwon soonyoung

i remember how much i loved you| i remember how much|

i remember|

dinner on monday? need to design the monthly magazine’s cover page

sent at 2:46 a.m.

from: kwon soonyoung

i’ll be there :)

sent at 2:47 a.m.

“what are your dinner plans?” minghao asks soonyoung. the fitting for their upcoming tour outfits just got over, and all the members are leaving in groups for dinner.

“nothing much,” soonyoung shrugs. “want to go get kimchi jjigae?”

there’s a good restaurant at a walking distance from the hybe building, but the heavy rain pouring down when they’re about to exit the building makes minghao and soonyoung take one of the company cars to the restaurant instead.

they’re in the elevator alone, going down to the basement, when minghao decides that it’s a good time to interrogate soonyoung on his recent behaviour.

“you know, everyone’s been thinking you’re acting… different,” minghao starts casually, not wanting to alarm soonyoung abruptly. “is everything alright?”

“what? i’m still the same,” soonyoung laughs. “more importantly, why have you all been discussing me?”

“we’re not discussing,” minghao shakes his head, the elevator doors opening to the basement. “you’re just acting unusual, and we’re noticing it. if you wanna talk about it, you can—”

“wait, what date is it today?” soonyoung interrupts him just as they’re about to open the doors to the car.

“uh, the twenty-eighth,” minghao says, checking his phone, and he watches how soonyoung’s face drains of all color as he realizes something important.

“shit, i need to go,” soonyoung mutters to himself, pulling out his phone and rapidly typing something on his screen.

“go where? i’ll drop you off,” minghao offers, but his words fall on deaf ears. soonyoung is already running back to the elevators, which take him up to the lobby of the building, and out on the street.

the rain doesn’t let up in the slightest, but soonyoung doesn’t seem to care much about it as minghao watches him run like a madman when the car pulls out on the street.

he should lower his window and yell at soonyoung to get in the car, but he’s never seen him this frantic to get somewhere. minghao decides to trust soonyoung’s crazy antics this time, and silently shakes his head at the driver when he asks if soonyoung needs to be picked up.

. . . . .

“is this what good friends do?” a scoff from you has soonyoung’s heart crumbling. “you left me waiting here in the rain, on my birthday, and you couldn’t even call, or text—”

“it’s not like you’re waiting for it!” a cornered soonyoung isn’t a rational one, and the words leave him before he can process them. “you’re always telling me how i shouldn’t be meeting you, have feelings for you, or contact you, yet you’re the one giving me shit for not texting you?”

“i just—i assumed you’d show up,” your voice is considerably softer, now that you really understand what soonyoung is saying. the loud rain doesn’t do much to mask your voice, however, because soonyoung hears you loud and clear.

“well, that’s where you’re wrong,” soonyoung chuckles mirthlessly. “you’ve just taken me for granted all over again, y/n. you think that you can get me to do whatever you want just because i like you and you know i’ll never say no. i’m really fucking tired of all this.”

“soonyoung, it’s not like that—”

“i don’t want to hear another stupid explanation from you, not when you’re always deflecting whenever we get close to being something real,” soonyoung cuts you off. “you’re always the one making decisions for me, for us, and i’m done with that. my feelings for you are my own, and you can’t tell me i’m wrong or that i can’t have them.”

at this point, the salty tears running down your face can’t be differentiated from the raindrops hitting your skin, but you keep your head bowed down, so that soonyoung can’t see your tears. despite not looking at him, you can still tell that soonyoung himself is crying, if his choked voice and hurt tone are anything to go by.

“you’re not going to say anything?” soonyoung tries, and he sounds like he’s giving up now. “why can’t you just take the chance with me? why won’t you trust that i’ll do anything to keep you safe?”

“go home, soonyoung,” is all you say, gathering the courage to look him in the eye. “you’re going to get sick, and with the tour—”

“you don’t give a fuck about the tour, and you certainly don’t care for me either, so cut the crap,” soonyoung sounds angry, and you know he has all the right to. “if i go home now, without anything from you, it’s the last you’re going to see of or hear from me.”

those words have you snapping your head up. you look at soonyoung, fists clenched and teeth gritted together. the image of an younger, much happier soonyoung is superimposed on top of the version of soonyoung you see in front of you, and he looks entirely different.

you don’t see the carefree, happy, and silly soonyoung anymore. you see a man who you’ve managed to break with how much you’ve pushed him away. you see a man who’s scared to love you, even though that’s all he’s done for all these years.

you see the results of your own cowardice, and you know that the bravest thing you could do is end things, right then and there.

“goodnight, soonyoung,” you say, not caring that you’re letting your facade finally slip in front of him when your voice cracks under the weight of your emotions. “i won’t bother you anymore.”

you don’t have to look at him to visualise the look of betrayal and heartbreak on his face, but you sneak a glance anyway, and it’s just as heart-wrenching as you expected it to be. still, despite every inch of your body wanting to stay here, with him, you force yourself to turn around and walk away.

you’re not sure if soonyoung sees the way your shoulders shake when you finally give in and sob loudly. you’re not sure if soonyoung hears the thousands of apologies leaving your lips in broken whispers. but you do hope that soonyoung doesn’t; you’ve already hurt him enough.

“where have you been?” seungkwan gasps when he sees soonyoung at his front door, soaked in water from head to toe. “minghao-hyung told me you suddenly ran away, and all of us have been trying your phone but you—”

“seungkwan-ah,” the tremble in soonyoung’s voice makes seungkwan pause his rant. “i’ve lost her for good, this time.”

“lost who?” seungkwan furrows his eyebrows. “i don’t know what you’re talking about, just come in quickly and shower. i’ll get you some dry clothes.”

within fifteen minutes, soonyoung is now seated on the couch, clean and dry, and seungkwan hands him a cup of warm milk. he sits down next to soonyoung and notices how soonyoung just stares off into space, eyes filled with a kind of sorrow he hasn’t seen before.

“is it her?” seungkwan asks, and soonyoung turns his head to meet his eyes. “the girl you were talking about when you came here?”

“y/n, yeah,” soonyoung nods. “i didn’t know you guys were talking again,” seungkwan says. “i mean, we all thought that during the break when we were trainees, she randomly disappeared without a trace.”

“i thought so too,” soonyoung admits. “but we happened to bump into each other a few months back, and—god, i feel like such an idiot for thinking that we could ever go back to the way we were before.”

“wait, backtrack,” seungkwan holds his hand up. “you’ve been seeing her for the last few months? is that why the members keep saying you’ve been acting different? tell me the whole story, kwon soonyoung.”

the last thing soonyoung wants to do is recount the details of everything that’s happened, but he doesn’t stand a chance against seungkwan’s inquisitive gaze, and so he caves.

. . . . .

you’re definitely going crazy. it’s the only rational explanation for the situation you’ve found yourself in.

three days ago, after you left soonyoung in the rain, you had received a text from an unknown number, which went like: this is seungkwan. hyung is down with a fever. i thought you should know.

you wanted to reply and argue that you shouldn’t know about soonyoung’s health, not when your heart and mind were both ready to drop everything at once and meet soonyoung, no matter how stupid the excuse. instead, you left the message on read and spent the next three days driving yourself crazy while contemplating if you should go and apologize to soonyoung.

in the end, the part of you that craved the comfort soonyoung brought you with just his presence won, and you found yourself in front of soonyoung’s house, plastic bag filled with medicine gripped tightly in your right hand.

you raise your left hand to ring the doorbell, but something in you makes you pause. what if soonyoung doesn’t want to see you? you wouldn’t blame him, after everything you’ve put him through, but seeing disgust or hatred for you in his eyes might just be the thing that shatters your heart for good.

the thoughts running in your head are chaotic, and you wish you just had the courage to knock on his door, face him, and apologize so that he actually hears you, but you’re a mere slave to the crippling fear that fills you at the thought of wanting something real with soonyoung.

you decide against facing him. you place the bag of medicine by the door, ring the doorbell, and run towards the end of the hallway as fast as you can, hiding behind the wall to make sure soonyoung won’t see you. it’s childish and immature, but you’ve come to realize that you’re never rational when it comes to soonyoung.

you need to cover your mouth to muffle the cries leaving you when you hear soonyoung open his door, step out, and call seungkwan to ask him if he sent him any medicine.

you take that as your sign to leave, but the burning question doesn’t leave you: what would soonyoung think if he ever finds out that you were the one who brought him medicine but didn’t even have the courage to hand it over to him yourself?

your relationship with soonyoung had started many years ago, when you both were still in middle school and trying to understand long division.

back then, soonyoung was your best friend. he was the boy who always asked for an extra serving of rice at lunch, because you were too shy to. he was the boy that made sure you walked on the sidewalk when you were going back home after school. he was the boy who choreographed silly dances to make you laugh whenever you were sad.

he was the first boy you fell in love with.

it all had happened very quickly; all the girls in your grade had started discussing crushes and boyfriends, and soonyoung was the only boy in your life who made you feel ‘butterflies in your stomach’ and ‘fireworks whenever he’d touch you.’

after that revelation, it felt like the entire world had become much sweeter. you had exchanged your glasses for rose-tinted ones, and with every moment you spent with your best friend, you only fell in deeper.

one evening, under a starry night sky, fifteen-year old you had taken the leap of faith and pressed your lips against his. it was clumsy, and his nose bumping into yours hurt, but it was the best thing to ever happen to you.

what had followed the kiss was the worst news you’d ever receive.

—

“i’m moving to seoul,” soonyoung says, his hand holding yours gently while he drops a bomb.

“what for?” you ask, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. although soonyoung hadn’t revealed much, you could tell from the way his eyes were welling up with tears that the news couldn’t be good.

“i’m leaving taekwondo for good,” he starts. “i recently got into dancing, and i love it. i want to get better at it.”

“there’s dance studios in namyangju,” you point out. “why seoul?”

“i…. i auditioned for a few companies,” soonyoung confesses, the words spilling out after weeks of being kept secret. “i got into some, and i want to…. train professionally.”

you might just get an award called ‘worst best friend in the world’ for your reaction to soonyoung’s words. you barely stop yourself from saying, “that wasn’t our plan. we were supposed to stick together, even if we got sick of each other.”

what you do say is, “oh. that’s… that’s really cool.”

“you don’t look too excited,” soonyoung’s smile falters a bit. “why aren’t you excited?”

“i mean, of course i’m happy for you,” you laugh, although there’s nothing you find funny in this situation.

“i feel like there’s a ‘but’ that’s going to follow,” soonyoung looks at you warily. “what is it?”

there’s so many things you want to say, but you bite your tongue. you just shake your head with a smile. “no ‘buts.’ i’m happy for you, i really am.”

“really?” soonyoung asks again, just to be sure, and you nod. he seems convinced with the act you’ve put up, because he smiles brightly at you, and your heart skips a beat.

you try to bring up the kiss, and what it would mean for the both of you, but soonyoung says, “i should go home, it’s getting late.”

“yeah, it is,” you reply, swallowing down the urge to tell him to stay. “goodnight, soonyoung.”

—

for years to come, you regretted everything you did that night. you regretted letting him go that easily, not telling him how you felt, even the fact that you kissed him.

this regret had such a chokehold on you, that after soonyoung had packed up his things and moved to seoul, you cut off all contact with him.

you didn’t reply to his emails and didn’t answer his calls. whenever his parents visited your house, you’d lock yourself in your room, scared that they’d ask you about soonyoung and you’d have nothing to say.

it was your first heartbreak, and it was messy and painful. you would cry yourself to sleep every night and wake up in the morning, fighting the urge to call soonyoung and ask how he’s doing.

you had managed to convince yourself that now that soonyoung had left, there was no chance of him coming back, much less to meet you. it took you a year to make peace with it, and another year to try and move on, but one night set you back on your progress and had all your walls breaking down.

—

it’s a rainy night and you’re alone at home. your parents are out of town for your dad’s colleague’s wedding, and you couldn’t be bothered to join them.

you’re on your phone, watching pixelated figures on your screen laugh and scream. you’d never admit this to anyone, but you had secretly kept up with soonyoung’s activities ever since he’d left for seoul. for the last few months, he’d been part of a tv show along with other trainees, practicing in a room with green walls and awaiting the day their names would be picked to be a part of a new boy-group.

seeing him dance and goof around with other trainees always made your heart sink a little, but you were glad that at least one of you were enjoying their youth.

you’re in the middle of a compilation of funny moments from said tv show, when your doorbell rings. you’re skeptical as to who would show up in front of your house in the middle of the pouring rain and this late in the evening, so you equip yourself with a tennis racket and head to the front door.

you slowly twist the door knob and pull the door open, but when you see who’s standing at the door, the tennis racket slips from your hands and clatters loudly against the floor.

“what—what are you doing here?” you ask, suddenly feeling weak in the knees.

“did i do something wrong?” soonyoung fires back. he’s completely drenched in rainwater, and his shoulders seem to droop, not just with the weight of the wet clothes clinging to his body.

“soonyoung, that’s ridiculous. what do you mean?” you sputter. “i think you should be telling me why you’re miles away from seoul, in front of my house, soaked in rain. what were you thinking?”

“it’s been two years, y/n,” soonyoung scoffs. “two years since i left and you never called, texted, nothing. did you really not care about me leaving?”

“i just got busy,” you lie, looking away from him. “school got tough, and unlike you, i need to actually focus on—”

“wait, pause,” soonyoung cuts you off, and you wish you could slap yourself for letting those words slip out. “what do you mean ‘unlike me’? what, you think you’re better than me because you’re going to school and i’m training to be an idol? is that why you cut off all contact with me?”

“i didn’t mean to say that, and you know i’d never do anything like that,” you deny.

“do i? do i know you anymore?” soonyoung runs a hand through his damp hair, just like he does whenever he’s annoyed. “i thought we were best friends, but all of a sudden, you go radio silent and give me no explanation at all.”

“i was having a hard time too, okay?” you raise your voice, and you hate how shaky it sounds. “it was tough for me to get used to living without you here, and—”

“don’t give me that bullshit,” he says, voice cracking near the end. “i needed you too, and you completely abandoned me. just like how you kissed me that night and never said anything afterwards. why do you always leave me in the dark?”

you’ve relived that first, innocent, clumsy kiss, multiple times in your head for the last two years, and hearing soonyoung bring it up makes the memory sting even more.

“soonyoung, i—i tried to, but i didn’t think that it was the right time to bring it up,” you sigh, defeated. soonyoung’s gaze softens at that, and he inches forward to be closer to you. he raises his right hand to cup your cheek, and the contrast of his icy fingers against your warm skin makes you shudder.

“you think too much,” he says, looking into your eyes. “it’s just me; you can tell me whatever you want the second the thought crosses your mind. you know i’d always listen.”

“i know,” you nod, and the air between you two feels charged with tension that has been simmering for the last two years. your brain is working at full speed, trying to decide what your next move should be, and soonyoung seems to pick up on the hesitance in your eyes, because of which he exhales loudly and whispers under his breath, loud enough for you to hear, “fuck it.”

before you can predict what he’s about to do, soonyoung leans forward to crash his lips onto yours. you can feel soonyoung shivering in his wet clothes, but the kiss feels warmer than anything you’ve felt before. you give into your temptations and kiss him back.

it’s not as awkward as last time, but it does take you a second to realize that in the time he’s been away, soonyoung has grown up from the lanky and lean boy he used to be. his shoulders seem to be broader, and arms considerably more firm from the constant, rigorous training he’s going through.

you take your time in running your hands up his arms, until they finally wrap around his neck, pulling him in close. the wet material of his hoodie meets your dry t-shirt, and the foreign cold sensation is what snaps you back into reality. you’re kissing the boy you tried so hard to move on from, and you’re kissing him despite knowing that you’ll never really have him.

pulling away from soonyoung hurts a lot more than you expected. he looks disoriented for a few seconds, but then his eyes focus on you, and he knows something has changed.

“we should talk about—”

“no,” you shake your head. “let’s just call this a weak moment, and forget about it.”

“are you being serious right now?” soonyoung huffs. “why are you doing this? am i just a mistake to you?”

if you were it wouldn’t hurt this much, you think to yourself. to soonyoung you say, “i think we’re better off as friends, soonyoung.”

soonyoung walks away again, but this time you’re the one who pushed him away, and he’s the one that wanted you to stay.

—

you didn’t think you’d ever meet soonyoung after that night. for months after, the pain you felt every time you thought of soonyoung was fresh and raw, but over the years, he moved to the back of your mind as you got busy with trying to cope with the real world.

you had decided to major in design in college, and with your degree, you managed to land a job at a famous magazine publisher as a designer, and you’re somewhat happy with it. it’s tough to get recognition in a creative field, especially as a new employee, but earning money easily outweighs the need for validation, which is why you gritted your teeth, plastered on a smile, and continued working for people who never acknowledge you.

that’s when life decided to give you another unexpected surprise.

—

you just got off work, and it’s almost midnight. you haven’t had much to eat the entire day, not when the company is downsizing and you need to work your ass off to keep your job.

your stomach grumbles loudly, and you feel frustrated too. you’re sick of eating convenience store food for most days of the week, but there’s not a single restaurant open at this hour in your area, and you may just have to settle for ramen again, when you stumble across your saviour.

it’s a hole-in-the-wall joint with a small LED sign outside it, displaying the name of the restaurant. there’s not more than four tables inside the restaurant, yet the aroma of delicious tteokbokki is enough to lure you in.

you push the door open, and an elderly lady with a kind smile welcomes you. “oh, my child, you look absolutely famished,” the lady coos. “come, take a seat, i’ll get you food.”

“thank you so much,” you gush, bowing deeply before sitting down at a table. while the lady brings you food, you take the time to rest your tired feet and exhausted eyes. you’re rubbing your aching forehead, when the door to the restaurant opens, indicating that another customer has entered.

out of curiosity, you look to the side to see the new customer, but when you see his face, you’re considering that the universe thinks you’re a joke. because, sitting at the table across from you is none other than kwon soonyoung.

memories from the past crash into you like a truck, and you’re almost ready to sacrifice a decent meal and flee from the restaurant, when the lady approaches your table with a huge tray in her hands.

“here you go, sweetheart,” she says, setting down bowl after bowl on your table. “enjoy your meal.”

you’re not sure how much of an appetite you’ve got left after you’ve literally faced your past. the shock on soonyoung’s face still hasn’t faded, and you’re debating if you should just avoid any further eye contact, finish your food, and leave the restaurant as quickly as possible.

it seems like that plan needs to be abandoned as well, because after a very awkward meal and paying for your food, the second you step out of the restaurant, soonyoung calls your name.

“y/n, wait,” you can tell that he feels awkward just from the way he’s fidgeting with his shirt, and it only makes you feel even more uncomfortable. “it’s… been a while.”

“it has,” you reply casually, as if he didn’t go on to become a worldwide sensation, while you’re stuck being mediocre. “it was great to see you again, but i really should—”

“let’s catch up some time?” he asks, chest heaving with anticipation.

“i don’t know if that would be a good idea, soonyoung,” you say, vaguely gesturing at the distance between the two of you. “after what happened last time…”

“you said we’d be better as friends, right?” he tries, still enthusiastic, and it makes you want to cry. “we should try again. to be friends, i mean. what do you think?”

—

agreeing with him had been simultaneously the best and worst decision of your life. meeting soonyoung nearly every night after work, eating dinner at the same table in the restaurant you both met at again, and spending hours listening to him talk about everything and nothing was something you never thought you’d get to experience again.

it had started to feel like he was your best friend all over again, just like all those years ago when you both were naive teenagers who could never imagine that their relationship would change this much.

the downside to all this was that your old feelings for soonyoung, feelings that never really faded away, had come to life again, and soonyoung smiling at you like an idiot in love, like an idiot who didn’t choose to run away from you the first time you hurt him, wasn’t helping either.

having to shut down his constant flirting, his abrupt confessions, ‘deals’ he’d strike with you to make you go on a date with him whenever he helped you with work, all of it was killing you slowly, and you didn’t know if you could tell soonyoung to back off without hurting him more than you already have.

as the weeks fly by, you started letting your guard down around soonyoung. he held your hand as he walked you home, carried your work bag even if you weren’t that tired, and even texted you first thing in the morning. you had promised to yourself that you wouldn’t let soonyoung get that close to you again, because dealing with the fallout was something you didn’t want to deal with again.

still, like icarus, you let yourself fly close to the sun that is soonyoung’s affections, selfishly hoping that the day your wings of wax melt didn’t come too soon.

it was all just wishful thinking, and the fragile bubble you had started to live in burst on the day of your twenty-ninth birthday. like every other day, you had expected soonyoung to meet you at your usual restaurant for dinner, but hours passed, and there was still no sign of soonyoung.

when soonyoung finally did show up, and after you left him alone in the rain, you couldn’t help but curse yourself for believing that something so flawed from the start could ever work out, no matter how much you tried.

“is it weird that i still feel nervous before concerts?” mingyu sighs, massaging his legs after their last rehearsal on the stage.

“i don’t think that feeling will ever fully go away,” wonwoo chuckles, panting as he lays sprawled out on the floor of the green room some of them are gathered in. its the day before the first concert on their world tour, and backstage is buzzing with various members of staff running around, making sure everything is perfect.

“i don’t think soonyoung gets nervous, though,” wonwoo teases, nudging soonyoung’s leg with his foot.

soonyoung, too engrossed in his own thoughts, doesn’t even hear the jab. he’s busy staring off into space, and it puzzles the other members.

“hey, what’s on your mind?” mingyu asks, shaking soonyoung’s shoulder to snap him out of his trance.

“i don’t know,” he sighs. “i have a bad feeling about today.”

“hey! don’t jinx our concert with your negativity,” seungcheol quips. “whatever has you distracted, you need to get it out of your head. we need tomorrow to be perfect.”

the restless feeling that has been bothering soonyoung all morning finally makes sense when his phone buzzes with a notification.

it’s a text from you, after radio silence since your birthday, and soonyoung hates how he’s sprinting out of the green room towards the company cars at the drop of a hat.

in his rush, soonyoung leaves his phone behind, and when mingyu picks it up from the couch, the text displayed on the screen reads, can we talk? one last time, i promise.

everyone has a feeling that soonyoung doesn’t want to be meeting you for the last time.

. . . . .

soonyoung feels a little foolish for standing outside the restaurant alone, frantically looking around. he’s forgotten his phone at the concert venue, leaving him with no way to contact you to find out if you were even coming to see him.

but when he sees your figure at the end of the street, walking towards him, the anxiety he’d been feeling gets multiplied by ten.

when you come to a halt in front of him, you seem a bit surprised. “i didn’t expect you to come. not after…”

“i know it was you who left the medicine outside my house that day,” he says. “i decided to come so i could thank you for that.”

“you don’t have to,” you shake your head. “i didn’t do that as an apology.”

“so, you’re not going to apologize for any of it?” soonyoung tilts his head. “why’d you call me here? for your own amusement?”

“i called you here to tell you that i’m leaving for good, soonyoung,” you have to force yourself to blurt the words out, because the lump forming in your throat is slowly starting to choke you. “i got a new job, and i’m leaving korea. i’m not coming back.”

“what?” soonyoung doesn’t sound like he believes you. “what do you mean you’re leaving?”

“i need a fresh start away from all this, away from you,” you can’t hold your tears back anymore, and the thought of never seeing soonyoung again is a comforting yet terrifying thought. “this thing we have, whatever we’ve had for all these years, it hurts to live with. i know i was the one who went and messed everything up, but i—i didn’t know how else to deal with you leaving. i do apologize, soonyoung, for every time i’ve made you feel like i hate you, or i don’t want you, and i want you to know i didn’t mean any of it.”

“if you didn’t mean it, why did you do it?” soonyoung’s face is red with anger and the look of realization that he can’t do anything to salvage this situation is heartbreaking. “i told you, y/n, you don’t have to think so much when you’re with me. you don’t need to worry about everything that can go wrong, not when i’ve got your back. why could i never earn your trust?”

“how could i trust in something that was doomed from the start?” you let out the thought that has been gnawing away at you for years. “the moment i realized i loved you, you left, and i couldn’t do anything about it.”

“is that what the first kiss was about?” soonyoung asks. “you loved me since then?”

“i did,” you nod. “and don’t you dare try to apologize for leaving, because it’s going to make me feel even worse. there was no way on earth i would’ve asked you to stay for me, and you wouldn’t have listened anyway.”

“what about after that?” soonyoung says, and you notice how it’s his left hand rising up to push his hair back. it used to be his right hand before, and you will every cell in your body to stop thinking about what the difference means. “i came back to you, why didn’t you tell me then?”

“you had enough on your plate back then, soonyoung,” you shake your head. “i’ve always kept up with your journey, since before your debut, and i know that expecting a relationship from you then wasn’t right of me. it would’ve made things worse.”

“why not now, y/n?” soonyoung yells, tears of frustration running down his face. “do you have an excuse for that too? what, i’d be too busy touring the world which is why you never said anything? if you love me, and i love you, why couldn’t we just let that be the reason? was love never enough for you?”

“i can’t—i can’t answer that, soonyoung,” you sob. “all i do is hurt you, don’t you see that?”

“there you go, making decisions for me again,” he scoffs. “you can’t be the one to decide if i want you, even if you’ve hurt me.”

“i’m deciding for myself,” you sniffle, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “we’re too far gone to fix things, and i don’t want you to get your hopes up for me. i don’t think i’ll ever be ready for anything real with you, and i feel like it’s the best way to leave things.”

“you’re leaving without even trying to fix anything,” soonyoung seethes. “your apology is just another slap to the face, and i can’t believe that i’d still do anything for you, no questions asked.”

“i’m asking you to let go, soonyoung,” you choke out. “it’s what’s best for us, and you know it too.”

“you make it sound easy,” soonyoung’s laugh is dry and hollow. “letting go of you means letting go of my heart. it’s not that easy, y/n.”

“i’m sorry,” you let your head hang low, too ashamed to look at soonyoung. you’re surprised once again when you feel his hands reaching forward to hold your trembling ones.

“is there nothing i can say to make you stay?” soonyoung tries again. his anger seems to have dissipated, and the look of desperation on his face matches the one on yours.

“i’m leaving tomorrow night,” you let yourself savor the feeling of his rough hands enveloping yours. “i can’t stay, you know that.”

“i’ll try anyway,” he exhales. “come to the concert tomorrow.”

“soonyoung, i can’t—”

“please.” he sounds dangerously close to begging. “i need to see you one last time, please. if it’s the last time i’m seeing you, i want it to be tomorrow.”

“i can’t make any promises, soonyoung,” you shut your eyes.

“don’t make any,” he says. “i’ll get you a ticket, but if you don’t want to come, don’t. just know that i’ll be looking for you in the crowd.”

“don’t expect me to be there,” you say, looking up at him. he’s close enough for you to see his eyes glittering with tears, and the knife in your chest twists in deeper.

“can’t make any promises,” his words come out in a whisper, and before you can remind soonyoung of the consequences of kissing in the middle of a street, where anyone can recognize him, he pulls you in.

the kiss doesn’t last long, but it makes you feel like your body is on fire. it makes your heart ache at the thought of losing this warmth forever, and it takes everything in you to stop yourself from pulling soonyoung closer to you.

he pulls away first this time, and you can see it in his eyes that he knows you won’t be there tomorrow. still, he says, “come tomorrow, please.”

he leaves before you can respond. which might be better for him. because you don’t know if you can handle the fact that the last thing you’ll tell him is no.

the opening notes of the song play, and now that all the members are finally sitting down after hours of dancing, soonyoung takes a moment to scan the crowd.

he thinks about the ticket he’d sent you through text, and how the message hadn’t even delivered. he thinks about the flight that’s about to leave the airport soon, taking you far away from him.

if you leave in the distant future i probably won’t be able to live

he thinks of the last kiss, and it’s enough to make his eyes water.

chan finishes singing the first two lines, and with a shaky hand, soonyoung lifts his mic to his lips.

it’s not in the distant future i just don’t want to think about it

you’re not in the crowd tonight, and even though you didn’t make any promises, the last look he had at you felt like a promise in itself. a promise that said, i won’t be there, no matter how hard you look.

still, soonyoung feels like you’re watching. he wants to imagine that you’re in the waiting room at the airport, waiting to board your flight, clutching your phone and watching the livestream of this concert. he wants to imagine that the tears in his eyes make you want to cry too.

if you leave me (what can i do?) all my days (you’re the reason i’m alive and breathing)

fans recording clips of this concert are going to share this particular clip of soonyoung singing the chorus of the song with tears streaming down his face. they’re going to say things like, who hurt him? and soonyoung is really professional; he pours so much emotion into each song.

they don’t know the truth behind the tears. they don’t know that soonyoung was once a boy, who was, and still is, in love with a girl. and they’ll never know, neither will you, that soonyoung will always continue to love you, even if you’re oceans away from him.

soonyoung won’t ever know this: you do watch the livestream of the concert. you’re sitting in the airport lounge, and soonyoung’s eyes staring straight into the camera feels like he’s really looking at you, after he failed to spot you in the crowd.

he won’t ever know this, but ever since that first kiss at fifteen, you had doomed your own fate. even if you ever found love in any other person, you’d never love them as much as you love soonyoung, and you decide to continue being selfish and keep this secret locked away in your heart for good.

the airport speakers announce that passengers flying to new york may start boarding their flight, and you shut your phone just as the song ends.

i want to hold your hand, just stay with me.

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