Genre: Angst, maybe a pinch of fluff if you squint real hard
Warnings: major character death
Wordcount: 3.2k
A/N: I'm back ㅠㅠ huge hug to everyone reading this ♡♡♡
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I saw him again.
He was just sitting there, as usual. Earphones plugged in, his eyes staring intently at his notebook. That was his favorite notebook, I noticed. He would always plop down his favorite spot in the library -- the table farthest from the door, close to the chemistry section -- and he would always bring a pile of books with him. He almost never opened them, though. He would always be hunched over his gray notebook, as if his life depended on it.
At some point I began to wonder if it was his diary, but later on I realized it was not. There were times when he'd just stare at it blankly, like he was having a mental block, but plenty of times he would be writing continuously with a huge smile painted on his face, as if he was proud of an idea he had gotten. He would scribble excitedly, scratching a few lines here and there. He would sometimes hum to himself, totally absorbed with the words that gushed from his pen, and he would smile contentedly.
I have begun to get mesmerized by his smile.
No -- maybe that was not the right word. I have begun to love his smile.
I always sat on the next table over, just staring at him until it was time for him to leave. Sometimes he would be with his friends. Sometimes he would allow the one called Changbin to read his notes, and most of the time, Changbin would react wildly and attract the attention of the librarian.
"I'm just studying, ma'am!" he would reason out each time he would be asked by the librarian to leave.
The librarian would just stare him down, and he would pout and dejectedly collect his things. Their other friend, Chan, would not be able to stop himself from laughing at Changbin's demise, and thus, he also ends up getting thrown out of the library.
"See you at the studio, Jisung!" the two of them would call out to their friend.
So his name is Jisung...
During most days, it was just me and Jisung. Or rather, it was just me staring at Jisung while he obliviously did his thing. But that didn't matter. I wasn't hoping for him to look up and see me, because I know that will never happen. It is funny how distance can mean nothing -- you can be close or far, and it may not even matter.
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"Hey."
It was one of those stormy days when I met my first friend. Jisung wasn't in the library, so I decided to wander down the archives to look for anything interesting. I thought I just imagined the voice -- it sounded nothing more than mist, no louder than a vague whisper. But the voice came again, and this time I looked back.
He was wearing a dress shirt, his hair primly trimmed and styled. He looked like one of those characters straight out of the Titanic movie. I was tempted to regard him with honorifics, even though his face clearly suggested that he was just around my age.
"Hi?" I answered.
He wrinkled his nose, eyeing me from head to toe. "Why are you staying here?"
And I knew he wasn't just talking about me staying in the archives to read -- he was talking about the whole me.
I averted his piercing gaze. Suddenly the floor felt like a really interesting mural to look at. "I... have nowhere to go."
He kept watching me for a few seconds. Then, he sighed deeply in resignation. "Since when?"
"Almost two weeks now."
He sighed again -- I was starting to worry that if he'd keep on sighing, he would just run out of air and wink out of existence right there in front of me.
Does that work like that? I'm not really sure how things work with a body like this. If you can even call this a body.
"How?" he asked softly, as if his voice could get any softer. He was a gossamer thread -- we both were.
I shrugged. "I saved a man from a vehicle accident. I don't even know who he was. Didn't even see his face."
I looked up at the man before me, finally taking the chance to inspect his features. Despite the intensity in his presence, his eyes looked tired and defeated. His skin was chalk-white, and sometimes when he moved, it was like he wasn't even there anymore -- like a wisp of air, fluttering in and out of existence. And that was what we were -- wisps of air. Impressions. Emotions. Memories. Remnants of who we were. Things of the past. Seeing him there, I finally allowed myself to think of the exact word: ghosts.
"You are an idiot," the ghost told me.
I laughed softly. "Maybe."
He was translucent, like chalky water. I looked down at my arms and I looked like that, too. And I also felt that way -- uncontained water, at the verge of spilling over the edge.
"How did you die?" I asked.
He rolled his eyes, like he was tired of having the conversation over and over again. "Please. Do not expect an act of heroism from me -- I am no hero." When I continued looking at him expectantly, he sighed again. "I was the founder of this library, see? Built it young. Then I died of some incurable disease, which for the record is now curable with the advancement of medicine." He gestured at the stacks of books around us. "I loved knowledge and wisdom, but they didn't save me when I needed them most."
I looked around us -- stacks of research papers, advancement of human for the past millenia. I wondered how many people have pooled their knowledge and wisdom for these multitude of papers. I wondered how many of them are now dead, unable to witness the birth of a new era that was made possible by their hardwork. I wondered about the people who gave their everything to the things they loved -- success, fame, knowledge, money -- only to be betrayed by human frailty. I wondered about those people who died valiantly. Then I wondered about those people who did not leave a mark, but died peacefully and contentedly. I wondered about them who actually lived beyond existing. I wondered about the stories their ghosts would tell.
"You need to pass over," the young man muttered quietly. "You can't just stay here forever."
"But you're still here," I argued.
"My life was not lived remarkably. I died at an early age, and hence I do not have a story to tell." A hint of a wistful smile crossed his lips. "I have no stories to tell, so I thought I should rather watch the stories of the living. I am greedy that way."
And I understood -- it was his way of reaching for the life he wasn't given the chance to live.
I was about to leave the archives when the library's founder called me back. I looked at him, and he regarded me with deep sadness in his eyes.
"Did you regret it?" he asked. "Saving the man. Do you wish you did things differently?"
I smiled at him -- a genuine smile. "I didn't. And I will never regret it."
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I was starting to fade.
It had been a few days since I talked with the library founder. He was Felix, he told me, and when I told him the name sounded just like someone who would create libraries, he just rolled his eyes and stalked away.
Jisung still came to the library, but each time I saw him, he always seemed to be on edge. Like he was nervous of something. I would have asked him, if I could. I was starting to get worried.
I probably should be worried of myself as well. There was a time when I felt an unexplainable tug, and when I looked at my hands they were blinking in and out of focus.
"You need to pass over," I heard Felix's voice in my head. "You can't just stay here forever.
Just a few more time, I prayed. Please.
Jisung wasn't writing on his notebook anymore. He didn't even bother to bring books with him. He was fiddling with his phone, turning it on and off. He stayed there, rooted in his chair, for what felt like hours. Then he did something I did not expect.
He looked up at me.
I half-expected him to shot his eyebrows up and ask me why I was staring at him, but of course he did not do that. He was just staring right at the seat where I was, and I knew he can't see me, but for those few seconds I really wanted to believe that he can. I wanted to believe that there was something between people that could cross life and fool death. I wanted to believe that there is something that connects people more than the physical touch -- something that could transcend time and space and life.
I wanted to believe, I wanted to hold on to something.
Then Jisung stood up, leaving the library with determination set in his eyes.
Felix told me that ghosts were tied to the places they once loved when they were alive. The remnants of their memories and emotions were connected to these places somehow, and it becomes the source of their life force. Once the ghosts decided to leave, it could mean that they have finally accepted their fates. That, or they could stray forever until they lose themselves entirely.
Apparently, this vague existence of mine was rooted close to the library. I remember spending most of my days here before. Thinking back, I probably shouldn't have made lots of doodles on the library books. It was probably those drawings that tied me to this place.
I stood up and followed Jisung.
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I didn't know where we were going.
Jisung stopped by a flower shop. After a few minutes of indecision, he finally picked a bunch of red roses. I was starting to think it was a wrong idea to trail behind him and that I was going to crash into someone's date, but I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know this part of town -- I didn't know how to go back to the library.
We walked and walked and walked. Jisung's expression was set, and it probably should have made me worried. But I wasn't. If anything, I could feel my heart fluttering. He was beside me, and he was beautiful. He was -- is -- the only person I would wish to be standing with.
The next thing I knew, Jisung and I were already in the graveyard. I didn't even know how we got there. Jisung stood before a gravestone and placed the roses down, and for the first time that day, I saw his smile.
I was tantalized again.
"I didn't know what flowers you loved," he began, smiling shyly. "But I figured if I was going to confess right now I should probably bring you red roses, so here they are."
It took me a whole minute before I realized what was happening.
My name was carved on the stone. Jisung was visiting me.
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He sat on the grass, still smiling at the stone that was marked with my epitaph. My mind was swirling. I didn't know what to think, or to feel. I was standing in front of my grave, and suddenly everything felt real -- I died. I am a ghost. Sooner or later, I will fade -- this time for good. If ghosts could shiver, I already did.
I plopped down next to Jisung. I wanted to reach for his hand. I wanted to hold him and ask him what was going on. I wanted answers.
As if he had heard me, Jisung smiled and spoke up.
"Hi," he whispered with a shaky breath. "You probably don't know me. But I... uh... I had been watching you for some time."
He paused, tilted his head, then laughed softly.
"That sounded weird, didn't it?" He laughed again. "I am Han Jisung. I live in a dorm close to the community college. I'm currently taking up a music degree. Cool, right? I always write lyrics and stuff. I have this favorite notebook with me, and it's already filled with lots of song ideas."
His gray notebook. Of course. So he was writing lyrics all the time? I couldn't help but be impressed at his dedication.
"The airconditioning in my room sucks, so I always stay in Chan's studio. But most of the time, he and Changbin would be too loud. I can't concentrate on writing lyrics, so I would be seeking refuge in the library. That was where I saw you."
Me. He saw me.
"I noticed you, because you were always wearing your gray hoodie even in summer. And you would always sit alone, in one of the farthest tables.
"I was curious, of course. I wanted to know you. So I always sat on the next table over. I would always bring stacks of books with me, so you wouldn't notice that I was there just to stalk you."
He laughed again, and he was beautiful.
"I would start my day staring at you and wondering what you're up to. Looking back, I wonder how you never noticed me staring...? Anyway. After a few minutes of staring at you, a song idea would suddenly pop in my head. I'd right the lyrics down, and the next thing I knew, it was already afternoon. And you had already gone home.
"That went on for a few weeks. You with your books, me staring at you. Some days, I tried to read the books you were leaving at the return section. And that was when I noticed that you weren't exactly absorbed with reading books -- you were busy rewriting them."
A subconscious smile graced my lips. I remembered all those times when I would pick up a classic novel and write my own version of a few scenes. On good days, when I felt sad and alone and poetic, I would write a few lines right across the margin. On best days, I was able to write full paragraphs, squished right there around the edges of the page.
"I read your versions of the stories," Jisung continued. "And I wanted to tell you how good you were with words. Sometimes I would imagine scenes from your point of view, and I would love the scenes more because I was able to see it with more color. And it was you who gave them color. I could safely say that you were my inspiration, and I can't thank you enough for that. You have saved me, in more ways than one."
I was starting to get an inkling as to where Jisung's monologue was headed. There was a mixture of emotions swirling in my insides. I was overwhelmed, and for the first time since I died, I consciously struggled for air.
"Two weeks ago, I really wanted to approach you and tell you how I loved your words. I knew I would have sounded like a creep, but I didn't care. I just wanted to talk to you, hopefully befriend you."
Two weeks ago.
"I tried to steel my nerves, but it was getting late in the afternoon. I knew you were about to go home. I probably should have approached you by then, but my heart was thumping so fast. I scurried out of the door, determined to do it tomorrow instead. Tomorrow for sure, I told myself."
He paused, like he didn't know how to continue talking. I didn't want him to continue talking. It was painful. So, so painful.
"I crossed the road without thinking. I always did that, when I'm focused on something else and my mind was swimming elsewhere. I always came out unscathed, maybe a curse or two from hotheaded drivers. But that day was different."
His eyes were cloudy. His voice was getting hoarse. I could feel his pain, and right then I just wanted him to stop talking. I wanted him to stop hurting. I wanted him to stop, because I wanted him not to hurt himself.
"There was a loud, very loud honk," Jisung said. "Next thing I knew, I was on the pavement. Someone pushed me. I looked back, and I saw the car. Someone was sprawled on the ground."
He was crying now. So was I.
"I could recognize your hoodie anywhere," he sobbed. "I could have..."
Silence stretched on for what felt like forever. As the sun slowly started its descent, I allowed myself to remember that day. I didn't see his face back then -- I just saw a man, about to get hit by a fast-approaching vehicle. I pushed him out of the way, not even thinking of anything else. My last thought was: my brother will be really mad at me for dying like this.
I didn't think of saving a life. I didn't think. I just moved.
Jisung took out his phone. He began playing a song, and it was beautiful. The most beautiful sound I have heard -- probably the best melody anyone could ever hear.
"I've been writing this song for two weeks now," Jisung said. "I am not sure if you could hear this, but I hope you could. This is the only gift I could give you, and I know this would not compare to the second life you have given me."
Jisung smiled despite his tears. "I am not sure this life had been worth saving. But I would make sure not to waste this chance you have given me. I will live this life for the two of us. I will make sure you would always be smiling down from heaven. I will make sure you would be proud of the life you have saved."
I held him. I held him close, and I did not want to ever let go. He was the song my heart wanted to hear, and if I would fade right here while I held him in my arms, my story would never need to be rewritten.
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Han Jisung woke up at the library. There were only a few hours until midnight. He went back after visiting her grave, and he hadn't realized how tired he had been over those two weeks of staying up all night to write his song for her.
He began collecting his things, then noticed that a book that wasn't his had been added to his pile. It was opened face-down on the table, as if bookmarked on a certain page.
Jisung took the book, proceeding to inspect the opened pages. He caught his breath.
On the margin of the page, written with pencil, was a short paragraph. He recognized the handwriting. He wasn't sure if it was already there before, or if it was just a coincidence, but he held the book close to him and touched the letters gingerly.
"If anything, it was me whom he has saved. He was peace and strength and beauty. He was an ocean, and I was drowning in him -- but the thing is, I did not want to swim back up. I just wanted to whisper, over and over again: I love you I love you I love you."
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A/N: Uhh... this is my first au in like two months? Sorry for not updating ㅠㅠㅠㅠ Feedbacks/requests will be deeply appreciated! ♡
Hi! You guys may/may not have noticed, but I had been inactive for several months. Partly because I was busy, but I guess I was also gradually losing my confidence in writing. Lately, I've decided to try writing again! (Yay.) Sooo I guess what I'm saying is, you could expect new stuff from me (albeit irregularly). Just trying to brush the rust off my writing sKiLls. Likes and reblogs would be VERY much appreciated 🥺 love yall~ ♡
》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault
》 2.1k words
》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)
“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”
It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.
The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?
He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.
“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”
The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.
I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.
Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.
Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.
There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.
But today felt somehow different.
It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.
Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.
Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.
And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.
It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.
“Help me.”
His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.
Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.
“Help me,” he repeated.
“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.
My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.
Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.
“Don’t look back!” he warned.
I did.
At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.
I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.
Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.
“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—
Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”
Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”
“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”
I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.
“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”
Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”
The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.
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“Have you heard of the news?”
“What news?”
“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”
“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”
“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”
Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.
I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.
Not here. Not now. Not ever.
I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.
I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.
The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.
He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.
“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”
He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”
He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.
Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.
“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”
Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”
And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.
I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.
We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.
“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.
Stray Kids are back with their noisiest and most memorable album yet. To celebrate, we caught up with the self-producing boy group to talk about their second full album NOEASY, the new single “Thunderous,” and some of the lessons they’ve learned in the three years since their debut. Check out our full interview below!
Where did the inspiration for the album title NOEASY come from? Would you consider your Stray Kids sound to be noisy, and do you like that description?
Bang Chan: We did a little wordplay with the words “no easy” and “noisy,” meaning that in a world where things aren’t so easy, we will be noisier and noisier. I actually don’t mind people describing our music as noisy ’cause that’s what we’re trying to be. The loudest noise that everyone will remember!
Changbin: Since our title songs are typically powerful and performance-based, I’m sure some people think our music is a little noisy. With that said, some people enjoy that sort of energy. We also get energized and have fun on stage, so I think the expression “noisy” is a positive thing. The title NOEASY is a spirited response to all the noise that distracts us and gets in our way—to say that we’re not an easy match and we won’t back down.
You celebrated your third anniversary as a group earlier this year (congrats!)—what are some of the (harder) lessons you’ve learned over the years as a group that produces all of their own music?
Hyunjin: During these past three years, the things I’ve learned are the love of STAY and how to love more. Additionally, through countless performances, I think my stage skills have also improved.
HAN: I was amazed and thankful to learn that the songs I write and create can move people. I hope to continue making good music that will move more people and continue to touch their hearts!
Felix: I learned that it’s hard to reach many goals in life. However, over the past years, I’ve learned to ask for help and feedback from my members. As time goes by, we’ve strengthened our team play to overcome anything.
What’s the first song you remember loving, or what is one of your recent favorite songs?
Bang Chan: Out of Stray Kids songs? “Hellevator” because it was our first official song as Stray Kids.
Lee Know: I was told that when I was a child, I used to dance and sing along to the music on the radio that my parents would listen to. I think that’s when I first started loving music, but I can’t remember what those songs were!
Changbin: “개똥벌레” (T/N: This song translates to “Firefly” in Korean and is a nursery song.)
Hyunjin: I think my favorite song is “Secret Secret” because HAN and I share the same emotional wavelength, and the lyrics really resonated with me.
HAN: I really liked “D” by DEAN!
Felix: “Grow Up” is a song we always sang together with our STAY during our concerts and performances. This song brings back a lot of unforgettable memories for me.
Seungmin: Kim Dong Ryul’s “Drunken Truth”
I.N: My favorite song from this album is “Thunderous!”
Many of you were really into anime and exercise as your stress-relief/hobbies the last time we spoke. Tell us a little bit about what you are into these days, outside of your activities as Stray Kids.
Bang Chan: Umm, I’m still exercising daily, and these days I’ve been using Felix’s Switch to play games.
Lee Know: I either cook or go to a cafe to read a book.
Changbin: I like working out!
Hyunjin: I study art and draw. I like to have my own time of healing in my free time by watching other artists on YouTube.
HAN: I still watch anime, go on YouTube, work on music, and exercise. I think I tend to gravitate more towards things I can do at home rather than outside.
Felix: If I have the time, I go out bike riding, walk in the park, or look for some new recipes to cook for the people around me.
Seungmin: I’ve been enjoying taking vocal lessons and playing the guitar sometimes! I’ve also developed a deep interest in coffee, so I’ve been exploring different machines and flavors.
I.N: I recharge by laying in bed and watching YouTube or movies.
On these last few albums, we’ve seen some unit songs developed outside of the usual 3RACHA team. Do your members ever surprise or excite you by what they come up with when you’re working as a new unit?
Bang Chan: Yes, it’s always surprising and exciting! It’s really unexpected, and their ideas are really good, too, so it’s always fun to work as units.
Changbin: It’s even more inspiring and helpful when I hear other ideas outside of my own.
Seungmin: I was blown away by Felix’s rap and vocals in “Surfin’!” I remember being very pleasantly surprised by the originality/freshness of his self-written rap.
You’ve all grown so much as people and performers since your debut. How has that growth impacted your sound and the themes in your music?
Lee Know: As we’ve grown, we’ve widened our range of music and performances, which has allowed Stray Kids the ability to convey a broader range of expressions.
Seungmin: In my case, I think I’ve become a reliable vocalist for Stray Kids! In order to sing our team’s songs well, I’m honing my singing ability so that I can pull off any type of melody 3RACHA creates.
I.N: Our album contains songs of diverse genres, and singing this wide variety of songs has helped me grow a lot.
If you could have a meal with your families anywhere in the world tonight, what would you be eating and where?
Bang Chan: Just having a normal dinner with the fam at home would be nice.
Lee Know: I think it would be the best if I could have a home-cooked meal with my family at our home in Gimpo. There’s no place more comfortable than that, and Soonie, Doongie, and Dori (our cats) are there, too.
Changbin: I want to go to Australia and eat steak!
Hyunjin: I want to visit Japan with my parents and go to a hot spring again. I’d like to eat the grilled skewers that we had there last time.
HAN: I would like to have a BBQ party and grill tons of meat like chicken, beef, pork, lamb, etc. It would be fun to rent a vacation home and just eat and have fun!!
Felix: I’d love to eat in Australia with my family at a nice, big, fancy restaurant, just enjoying the view, the food, and having the time of our lives together.
Seungmin: I would like to cook and enjoy a meal together at home. It’s the best when you can eat good food and have good conversations in a comfortable atmosphere!
I.N: I would like to grill and eat pork belly in Hawaii while looking out at the ocean.
Want more of Stray Kids? Check out their second full-length album NOEASY and the music video for "Thunderous" here.
It's been months since I opened tumblr wth 🤧🤧 sooo since my licensure exam had apparently been cancelled, I'll try to post some updates within the next weeks to practice with my writing. Thank you for almost 400 subs, it means a lot to this small blog of mine 🙏🙏 And sorry for being ia! I'll be back, pinky promise 🥰
Afraid is **chefs kiss** the way you captured the readers thoughts and feelings was amazing I absolutely loved it 🙌🏻 you have a beautiful talent, keep writing 💞
Ohmygod, I know this is late coz I've been very much ia lately but thank you sooo so much 😭😭😭💓💓💓
You know, this is why content creators end up abandoning their works, right?
80 likes compared to 10 reblogs means that only 12% of people decided that what you did is worth showing other people.
If you like the thing, reblog it. You don’t even have to add tags, just spread it so that a) other people can see it, and b) the creator gets recognition for what they did.
Obviously, those numbers are never going to match, but the divide should not be that huge.
It’s even more important right now, because tumblr is garbage and they’ve stopped allowing anything with an outside link from appearing in tags. Writers/artists cannot tag things to their twitter/store/writing website. That can cause a significant drop in views, especially for newer creators.
Like… we aren’t asking for much. A few reblogs. Reviews/comments. No creator should have to beg for that much.
Its whole purpose and systematics are based on that fact. What you do is killing the site.
@ all the i’ll like but won’t reblog ppl, If you don’t wanna reblog stuff and credit content creators for their work and effort + if you won’t appreciate them… Go :) to :) another :) site :) like :) instagram :)))))
i also just want to add that 90% of the people who say “reblogs don’t matter. we owe you nothing.” aren’t content creators and therefore have no idea.
sure, you don’t owe us anything. but don’t be surprised when we stop making shit for you to look at, read, appreciate, or ~share~ via other platforms.
fact is, you’re on tumblr in the first place because you’re interested in this kind of content so its kind of dumb to act like ~oh we don’t owe you anything~ bc sis, this content is what makes tumblr what it is.
and again, if you didn’t think so - you’d instead be on twitter or instagram.
wanna know the reason i gave up posting my writing on tumblr? now you see it. at least on AO3 i get some comments. yall have no idea how heartbreaking it is to put something you’re really proud of on here and get like… 20 likes and no reblogs. because it feels like not a single person cares enough or enjoyed it enough to share it and show other people. and that hurts, man, we put heart into these things
》 Warnings: depression , anxiety (if you are easily triggered, please don't read❣)
》 Notes: Just want to clarify I'm not romanticizing depression in any way. This is a sensitive topic, I know. Believe me, I've been there. Still not sure if I gave it any justice tho... but anyway. I placed a part of me in this fic. And YOU. If you're going through something, remember that you are not alone. We are here for you, both Stray Kids and Stays, regardless of whether you are a Stay or not. You are welcome here. You are loved. You matter. 💙
》 Side note: I recommend listening to 🎶Afraid by Day6🎶 while reading this. All the love~
○○○
"But you're gonna watch our performance, right?"
You scratched your head, trying not to make your sigh heard over the phone. Usually, it makes you feel happy and warm inside whenever Changbin enters this sweet mode of his where he calls you almost every hour, reminding you not to miss their live performances and other schedules. Him asking you if you have eaten, if you have already taken your meds... usually, these simple things were enough to clear your head and remind yourself that you are never alone, that you have a loving and supportive boyfriend who understood you and loved you despite your shortcomings and flaws.
But today is not one of those days. Today, despite hearing Changbin's excited ramblings over the phone, you still can't help but feel that gaping black hole at the pit of your stomach. Your head was spinning. There was a ton of office works on your desk, a bunch of voicemails from your parents and colleagues, multiple household chores left unattended. You had accepted your boyfriend's call, hoping to get a slight sliver of comfort, but then you remembered that he has an online performance in half an hour. Another one you forgot to squeeze into your cramped up schedule. You could just miss the live and lie to Changbin afterwards, but you know you can't do that to him. You know how he loves it when you watch him perform.
Another thing: late night perf means he couldn't come over until the next day. You can't tell him your worries right now--you didn't want to dampen his mood nor ruin his concentration. You didn't want your black hole to expand and swallow him, too.
You were alone.
"Of course, Bin," you said, trying--and failing--to sound upbeat. Your voice sounded sharp and cold even to your own ears. "Can I... uhh... can I hang up now? I think my boss is trying to contact me."
"Are you sure you're alright, y/n? You don't sound--"
"Which part of 'I'm fine' don't you understand, Changbin?!"
Your harsh words surprised you. For a moment, the line was silent. You bit your lips in regret.
"Y/n--"
"I'm sorry, Changbin. I didn't mean to snap. I'm alright. I'll see you tomorrow."
You immediately cut the call, frustrated at yourself. You turned your phone to silent mode and threw it onto your bed.
°°°
10 p.m. Changbin's live would've ended by now, and you missed it entirely. You sat on the floor of your living room, your back against the couch, folders strewn all around you. Some bits of paper where torn up beside you, a habit you had developed way back in high school whenever you were at your limit and just wanted to let it out somehow.
You hadn't finished any work. You didn't even want to check your voicemails anymore. You hadn't eaten anything since lunch, but you didn't have the strength to make food for yourself, either. You were staring off into space, your mind swirling, your heart plunging into that dark place you had been very well accustomed to.
You just wanted to lie down and cry, but you felt too dried up to shed any tear. It frustrates you even more.
Too unfocused and mentally drained, you failed to hear the sound of your apartment door opening and closing. It wasn't until you saw a very worried Changbin walking towards you that you realized you weren't on your own anymore.
"Hey, Changbin." You smiled, but it didn't quite reach your eyes.
"Hey, y/n," he greeted back, kneeling in front of you. He smiled softly and reassuringly, and that smile immediately opened the dam of emotions you had been keeping at bay. You started to cry.
Changbin inched closer to hug you, but you stopped him. He looked confused, but he obliged. He sat on the floor beside you, trying to take in your situation.
One look at the torn up papers and Changbin immediately understood, if your messy appearance hadn't been enough of a giveaway. You hadn't even changed from your pajamas. Changbin was sure you hadn't been listening to your doctor's instructions, but he decided not to scold you about it for now. He knew how difficult your work could be especially towards the end of the year, and he mentally punched himself for not noticing your piled up stress before it could go out of hand. He wanted to hold you in his arms, give you assurance that everything's going to be fine, but he knew you needed your time.
The two of you just sat there for a while. Looking at your boyfriend, you could see him glowing with the light from your open windows. He looked breathtaking. His raven hair was styled up, exposing his forehead. Traces of makeup were still visible around his eyes, making it obvious that he rushed out from his schedule to see you. It made you even guiltier.
"Why are you still with me, Changbin?"
This took him by surprise. He moved to hold your hand but stopped, realizing you might not want him to.
"I love you," he answered. "You are important to me. I don't want to lose you, and that is more than enough reason for me to stay."
You looked at him, right into his eyes, and you could see that he said those words in all sincerity, without any flowery metaphor. And you saw his growing worry, too. An unmistakable sadness, and you knew it was caused by you.
Because of my greed, you thought. I'm holding him down. I'm letting him down.
Your tears continued streaming down your face. "You shouldn't be with me." You tried to wipe your tears away, but they just kept coming, gushing out. "That moment, when you came in and smiled at me, I realised that I can't make you happier than you were before you met me." You shook your head. "Your light is being covered by my darkness."
Changbin reached for your hand, desperate to give you any form of comfort. "Y/n, listen," he said. When you didn't push him, he took both of your hands and caged them in his. "You are my light. Do you know how happy you made me feel when you came into my life? Do you know how lucky I felt when you said yes, when you said you would go out with me?"
You shook your head, not wanting to believe him. He gingerly cupped your face in his hands. "I love you. If you could see yourself the way I do, you would see how amazing of a person you are. How strong and beautiful you are. You would see an infinite of reasons why you should love yourself."
He pulled you into a deep hug, and you just melted in his arms. You felt safe and secure--you felt like you could trick yourself into believing that everything would be alright. That everything would be worth it.
And perhaps everything is worth it.
"In these days when you hate that you're you, in those days when you just want to disappear, I will be here for you. I will always find you."
The thing is, you wanted to believe. You wanted to believe in yourself, in your future, in your abilities. But it's too easier said than done, easier to dismiss an emotion until reality comes flooding into you without any warning.
"You helped me realize the best in me," he continued, stroking your hair. "That means you could also realize the best in you."
You hugged him back as tight as you could, burying your head in his chest. "I'm afraid, Changbin."
"I'm afraid, too," he admitted. "But you're here for me, right? And I'm here for you. As long as we're together, we can get through anything."
You opened your arms for him, and Minho waddled to give you a big hug. His hoodie felt warm and fuzzy against your touch, and you would love nothing more than to stay in that position for much longer. However, you have classes to attend, and your boyfriend has a scheduled vocal lesson. You can't just stay bundled up together forever (although you would want to, if possible.)
"I'll begin counting now," you said. "One... two..."
"Two..." Minho continued, embracing you even tighter. "Two... two... two..."
"Min!" you laughed, trying to peel the boy from you. He wouldn't budge, though.
"I said three seconds," he argued. He rubbed his hair against your shoulder. "Three seconds haven't passed yet."
You giggled at his cute response, then you tickled him on his side, causing him to jump. "You won't want your teacher to scold you, love."
You kissed his cheek and headed for the door, your back facing him. Minho saw this as an opportunity to cage you into a backhug.
》 Where idol!Jeongin gets jealous when their backup dancer hits on his friend, a staff in JYPE.
°°°
"Cut! Let's retake a full shot of that scene."
"Okay, PD-nim!"
You watched as Stray Kids returned into their positions, preparing to repeat a certain part of their choreography. Filming music videos always prove to be tiring, with clips needed to be shot multiple times to get the perfect angle and timing. Considering the sharp dance movements in their title song, "Back Door," you could only imagine how tiring it must be for the members to film repeatedly and maintain their perfect synchrony. Despite all these, however, you could still see the tireless passion in the eyes of these eight SKZ members as they did what they loved the most: performing.
As a part of JYPE's creative team, the idols' enthusiasm was one of your major inspirations in coming up with new and unique ideas. Out of all the groups you've worked with, however, you have this undeniable bias to the group currently filming before your eyes. Since they are hands-on with the whole creative process, you have gotten pretty close with most of the members, especially with their cute and adorable maknae, Jeongin.
Jeongin has a major role in the Stray Kids universe, and his role in the story requires him to have additional acting scenes. Of course, this required him to show vivid and sometimes intense emotions. He was a shy kid at first, but as time went by, he learned to ask more questions so that he could improve and give whatever the scenes needed. Usually, he would go to you to express his worries, and you would always be there to guide him and give him honest feedbacks. Jeongin appreciated this a lot, and this has become a key for the two of you to strike a close bond.
"Cut!" the director shouted. "That was very good, everyone! Let's take a short break."
You stood up from the staff area to hand out drinks and sandwhiches to the backup dancers. You commended their performances so far--they play an important role in conveying the song's message. The work they put in the scenes were very much appreciated by the creative staff such as you.
Your job is mostly on props and visual art; you didn't have that much to do during the actual filming except for giving staff support. After checking on the position of the props, you sat back down in your area. Not long after, a young man in white jacket--one of the dancers--came up to you.
"Hi!"
You looked up at him, trying to remember if you knew him from somewhere. "Hey, uhh..."
The guy chuckled. "Lucas," he said with a friendly smile. "And no, you don't know me. I'm just here to talk for a while? It's break and all, so..."
You were sort of taken aback--you weren't used to boys approaching you out of the blue. "Uhh... sure. I'm y/n. Hi."
If Lucas noticed how awkward you were, he didn't point it out. He gestured at the seat next to you, and you just nodded. He smiled and took the seat.
"Nice to meet you, y/n. You're part of the creative team, am I right?" he asked.
"Yep," you answered. "Been in JYPE for some time now."
He nodded, impressed. "That's an awesome feat at a young age, getting into one of the biggest entertainment companies."
"You're not so bad yourself," you complimented. "You have to be an awesome dancer to be chosen by JYP." You weren't spouting baseless lies, you saw the dancers cartwheeling in one of the earlier scenes.
"Thanks! I'm actually dreaming to be an idol someday," he said dreamily. "You think it's possible?"
"Of course!" you exclaimed. "Why not? You're talented, and you also have the visuals. You should audition! Give it a try!"
He smiled sheepishly. "Hearing that from someone as beautiful as you boosts my confidence tenfold."
You stared at him and blinked repeatedly, his words not quite sinking in. "Huh?"
He looked you in the eyes, and you'd be lying if you'd say he's unattractive. "I actually saw you earlier before the filming began, and I thought you were cute so I thought, screw it, I'd try my luck and talk to you." He scratched his neck. "So... uhh.. would you mind giving me your number?"
You looked at him flustered for a few seconds. You were sure you were a blushing mess. You just didn't know how to respond to that.
What you also didn't know was that a certain someone had been watching you all this time, totally pissed at the scene unfolding before his eyes.
"Y/N!"
Surprised, you jerked your head towards the source of the booming voice, and you saw a blue-haired boy running to your direction.
"Jeongin?"
He stopped in front of you, almost out of breath, and immediately took your hand. "I need your help on something."
Without another warning, he pulled you up from your seat. You had no choice but to follow him, of course, leaving a baffled and completely confused Lucas.
"Where are we going?! Ya, Jeongin!"
The boy wasn't answering. He pulled you out of the building towards the parking lot, not stopping until you reached the group's minibus.
"Why did you bring me here?"
Jeongin regarded you for the first time, and even he looked confused. "Uhh... to... get snacks! Yep! I got hungry, I wanted a burger!"
You furrowed your brows. "But all the burgers are inside; Chan was handing them out to the members," you told him, even more confused than before. "Plus, I thought you hated eating during filming hours?"
Jeongin's eyes grew wide. "Oh. Right." He scratched his head, and you noticed the tips of his ears getting red. This made you worried.
"Is there a problem, Innie? Are you sick?"
You lifted your hand to check his forehead, but he immediately dodged.
"I'm fine," he said dismissively. Then, he looked at you, as if he was searching your eyes for something he somehow can't say out loud.
You rested your hands on your hips, getting slightly annoyed at this point. "If you have nothing to say, we're going back inside."
You started to walk away, but he held your hand again, holding you back.
"Who's that dancer hyung you were talking with earlier?"
You looked back at him, confused. "Oh, you mean Lucas?"
Jeongin dropped your hand upon the mention of his name. "Ah." He cleared his throat. "So you know him? You know each other." He worded it as a question, but it sounded more like an affirmation to you.
"No...? He just kinda approached me earlier and introduced himself. He was asking for my number." You blushed, remembering the dancer's bold attempt at hitting on you.
"And you gave it to him?" Jeongin asked, his tone flat and, it could only be your imagination, but did he seem angry?
"You came just in time, so nope."
"You mean if I hadn't pulled you away, you would've given your number to him?"
Okay, now you're sure he's angry.
"You shouldn't just be giving your number away to strangers. You shouldn't trust people you just met. What if he's a creep? What if he's just using you because of your position in JYP?"
Now, you probably should have felt touched, or happy even, by how Jeongin seemed protective and concerned of you. But for some reason, this pissed you off. And you told him so.
"I'm a grown up, Jeongin, in case you haven't noticed. I can handle myself perfectly well, thank you very much."
You trudged off, leaving him on the parking lot, alone with his confused emotions.
°°°
The filming went on, but for some reason, your mind wasn't letting you rest. It was bugging you about the incident at the parking lot, and you realized how immature it was of you to snap at Jeongin like that. He was just concerned, as how a typical friend would be, and yet you talked back to him as if it was his fault for worrying about you.
Seeing his condition while filming tripled your guilt. He seemed out of focus, sometimes missing half a beat in the choreography, sometimes failing to follow the instructions the director was giving him. And you knew it was partly your fault.
After a certain scene's fourth take, you approached the director. You asked him for a short break, saying you needed to check the backdrop. The director didn't question this, shouting a command to everyone to take a five-minute rest.
You took this opportunity to drag Jeongin to talk. Luckily, the boy didn't protest. You brought him to the back of the stairs, slightly hidden from everyone's view.
"Why-"
"I'm sorry," you blurted. "I must have been out of my mind earlier. It's just that, I was surprised when someone I didn't know approached me, asking for my number, and before I could process everything you pulled me out and you seemed angry. I'm not good at handling sudden situations, or with people in general, so I'm really sorry for snapping at you like that. Hell, I'm just rambling here and this doesn't seem like a proper apology, but--"
You were cut off when Jeongin stepped closer. You thought he was gonna hug you for a sec, but he just rested his forehead against your shoulder.
"I accept your apology. Can we stay like this for a while, please?"
You nodded, then realized he can't see your expression. You brought a hand to his hair, carefully stroking his blue locks.
"Y/n."
"Hmm?"
"Can you promise me something?"
"Depends. What is it?"
Jeongin could feel his heartbeat picking up pace. He caged you into a tight hug, taking you by surprise.
You felt like your heart jumped to your throat--as if a colossal drum just somehow manifested right there inside you. It wasn't uncomfortable, though--it was a foreign feeling that made you feel warm and cosy. It felt like home. He felt like home.
"Please..." Jeongin whispered. "Please don't be in love with someone else."
HELLO TO MY 300+ FOLLOWERS I'M KINDA BACK~ (I shot up to 300 while I'm out, tysm 😭) I mean, if you're still there and you can still see my posts, yeah, thank you 😭😭😭 I have several ideas for upcoming fics, I hope you could uhh support me? Yeah. Thank you so much! Latest fic here~ luvyou stays~~
Hi! I rlly like your minho fic where he was a demon but can i request where a jealous reader and minho trying to make her forgive him? Just ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing this, thank you!! 💜🥺😅😂
HI OMG I'M SORRY LIEK IDEK HOW LONG THIS HAS BEEN ASKED?!? I've been ia for some months I'm really 😭😭😭 but anyway This isn't the exact thing but here is a jealous reader x minho fic~~ thank you for the support ✊
》 Pangs of jealousy could still hit an established relationship, or where Minho is a choreographer and Y/N can't help but feel jealous because of a certain idol Minho is teaching.
》 Wordcount: 2.5k
》 Warnings: mention of overwork, insecurity
》 a/n: I'm back, hi! hihi
°°°
Being in a relationship with Minho hasn't been the easiest thing, but for you, it has been the bestest decision you have ever made.
You were college sweethearts, both of you meeting at an audition for the school's official dance group. After graduating, Minho decided to join a famous dance studio as one of its choreographers while you chose to focus on your professional field.
Adulting didn't come easy, as the two of you were bombarded with busy schedules for almost every week on end. It hasn't been the easiest thing, but after some time, the both of you have learned to adjust and manage your time. You have also decided to move in together, because 1.) you wanted to spend as much of your free time with each other as possible, and 2.) let's be honest, rent is expensive af.
Despite that, it was still difficult for you to spend quality time together because of Minho's hectic and jam-packed sched. Even in weekends, he would be busy coming up with dance moves for the kpop groups assigned to him. Hence, you usually make up to this by visiting him in the studio and bringing him your homecooked meals. You would bring a portion for you as well so you could eat with him. This is something that he adored so much, it eventually became a regular routine for weekends.
That Saturday was no exception. Wearing your favorite casual clothes plus Minho's purple hoodie, you drove to the dance studio with packed lunch for the both of you. You greeted the other dancers you met in the building, and there you met Momo, another buddy in your college dance group.
"Y/nnieeee!!!" Momo said, approaching you into a tight hug. "I've missed you!"
You returned the hug and giggled. "We only met like last week though?"
"That is forever ago. You should just work with us here so I could always hang out with you," Momo complained.
"Once I get fired in my current job, I'll be sure to send you my resume."
"Should I use my connections to get you fired, then?"
You talked with Momo for a while, until she remembered that she left her students unsupervised and she was only supposed to get some water.
"Minho is in Studio E," Momo said. "He's assigned to teach a rookie girl group, my forte, while I'm assigned to a dorky and loud boy group. Where's justice in that?" She sighed deeply. "Anyway. I'll get going. Let's grab coffee some time!"
You waved and watched as Momo begrudgingly trudged towards Studio A. You laughed a bit to yourself before heading to the opposite direction.
When you peered through the door of Studio E, you noticed at least six ladies sitting on the floor, talking and fanning themselves. You knocked twice before opening the door. Few of the girls looked up and bowed awkwardly. They probably thought you were just a staff bringing Minho some food.
The man in question, however, failed to notice you. He was busy giving a one-on-one lesson to another girl, them being the only ones standing. It probably shouldn't have irked you so much, seeing that Minho is a choreographer and it is, indeed, his job to teach idols their choreography. However, being a dancer yourself and watching them there for a solid minute, you know that the girl was just goofing around and pretending not to understand the moves. She even laughed and slapped Minho's chest jokingly as if they were close friends. You couldn't see your boyfriend's reaction from where you stood, but what you witnessed was enough to dampen your mood.
You fake-coughed, causing Minho to finally notice you. His eyes lit up, and that was almost enough to rebrighten your mood. Almost, for you could still see the girl he was teaching earlier, with her eyebrows shot up like she was annoyed for the interference.
Minho jogged to where you stood and you gave him a quick peck on the lips. This took him by surprise--you weren't usually the type of person to show skinship when there are strangers around. This made Minho smile, though, thinking that you just missed him too much.
"Lunch break, everyone," Minho told the girls. He then took your hand and led you out of the room towards the staff's pantry.
When you got there, Minho excitedly opened the lunch you prepared, asking you about your day as he did so. You tried to act normal--afterall, you have no reason to be jealous, right? Plus, this is Minho you're talking about. You've known each other for years, he's not gonna dump you for an idol he just met.
Right?
"Baby?"
Your head shot up, realizing that Minho was talking to you. "Yeah?"
He chuckled. "What's wrong? Stunned by my visuals yet again?"
You rolled your eyes, used to his teasing antics. "Just tired, I guess. Eat your meal before it gets cold."
His gaze softened. He reached for your hand, squeezing it a bit. "I told you, you could take some rest during weekends. You don't have to force yourself to drive all the way here to bring me lunch. You took overtime last night, I'm sure you've been busy in the office."
You smiled at him, reaching out to squish his cheeks. "And I told you, bringing you lunch would never be tiring for me if it means that I could spend time with this lovely face."
Minho grinned. "I'm irresistible, I know."
You playfully pinched his cheek. "Just eat, you handsome creature."
You watch Minho as he ate, admiring how he looked food-deprived by the way he gobbled his meal. For the nth time in your long relationship, you wondered how you got so lucky to have someone like him. At the same time, you wondered how long you would be this lucky--wondered how long you would be able to watch him up close like this. You wondered: did you really deserve him? And what will happen if he realizes that, no, he doesn't want you after all?
"Uhh.. Min?"
"Ggnnmm?" he grumbled in a mouthful of food.
You stifled your laughter, finding the moment too cute to be destroyed by your depressing thoughts. "Have I ever told you that you look like a cat when you eat like that?"
°°°
It has been days since you visited Minho's studio. He was still teaching the girls you saw last weekend, due to the fact that "the choreo was too complicated" and a certain someone named Ahra was "finding certain parts difficult and needed to be trained personally by a professional choreographer." So of course, Minho can't say no. You visited once during the week, dropping off a change of clothes Minho forgot to bring, and you saw the girl again laughing and talking with Minho comfortably. Minho didn't seem annoyed. If anything, you felt like he was enjoying her company.
It was Friday when Minho came home and told you that he had to come with the girls to Gwangju where they would hold the music fest the following week.
"But why, though?" you asked Minho, genuinely confused. "You are a choreographer, not a manager."
"I know," Minho said. He looked tired, and part of you was feeling bad for questioning him like this. But you just can't help yourself--not after seeing that Ahra's body language towards your boyfriend. "But baby, their company pleaded for me to come with them to guide the group. They're rookies. They need as much help as they can."
A part of you understood. You wanted this relationship to be rational and matured. You promised to understand each other's line of work. So you just nodded, trying your best not to show your sadness... disappointment? Jealousy? All of the above?
°°°
Weekend came. You told Minho you were going to hangout with Momo for lunch. It was one reason, but the other main reason was that you didn't want to see Ahra flirting with your man right in front of you.
Momo chose a Japanese restaurant for your weekend hangout, saying she missed the dishes she had back home. Right after you've placed your order, your friend made a show of placing her elbows on the table with her chin on her fingers, looking straight into your eyes. "Now spill the tea."
You chuckled. "What?"
"While I know that you value our friendship more than most of everything else, I know that you won't ditch Minho for a simple lunch opportunity. Now spill."
"Uhh... maybe I'm making time with you because you're gonna be away for three days in Gwangju?"
"Oh, that music fest? I'm not coming with them though," she said, casually sipping water. "I have whipped my group into magnificent perfection, they don't need me to tag along. Plus, what would I do there? Chaperone their asses on the bus? Teach them the choreo while they're sightseeing? Please."
You sighed. Yeah, it doesn't make sense for an outsourced choreographer to tag along an idol group. They have their own trainors. And the trip was for three days to allow the idols some time for broadcasted sightseeing. They won't have time for heavy dance practices.
"But Minho is coming with the group assigned to him," you mentioned.
Momo almost choked on her mineral water. "What? Why? And why haven't I heard of this?"
Oh.
You shrugged. "Maybe my boyfriend is onto something--someone--else."
Momo's gaze softened. "Y/n..."
"I mean, the way that Ahra flirted with him? I wouldn't be surprised."
"C'mon y/nnie, do you really think Min would cheat on you? After, what, your five-year relationship?"
"When faced with a beautiful idol, why not?" Your eyes were starting to get watery. You weren't much of an emotional person, but right at that moment, you just wanted to bawl your eyes out. "I mean, Ahra is beautiful, right? You've seen her. Tall, flawless, gorgeous. And talented, too. I've searched about her group, and turns out she's the main vocal." You pointed at yourself. "And what do we have here?"
"YA! Don't you ever look down on yourself like that!" Momo said, slapping the table. "Have you forgotten that you're the main dancer of our dance group? That you were scouted by the leading agencies and you turned them all down? That if you decided not to focus on your academics, you would have been one of the leading dancers in the whole country? Y/N!"
"But--"
"I'M NOT YET DONE. And even without considering those, do you really think Minho is only looking at a person's outward appearance? Do you really think that, y/n?"
"No..." you whispered. "Momo, I understand now, please tone your voice down a little."
Momo discreetly looked around and noticed a few people staring. She sighed, composed herself, and spoke in a calmer voice, "Do you remember when Minho courted you? He was so shy, he can't even look you in the eyes without turning beet red. Literally the entire dance group had to help him express his feelings for you."
You smiled at the memory, remembering a slightly younger Minho flushing red while holding out a bunch of flowers.
"And even months prior to that. He was so dense, his hyungs in the group literally had to smack his head for him to realize that he likes you, even when the entire campus could already notice his heart-shaped eyes whenever he's with you." Momo sighed. "My point is, do you really think a guy like Minho could cheat on you?"
You reminisced about all those years you have been together. Minho is a sweet, understanding person. He sees beauty in everything around him. He sees beauty in you even when you yourself couldn't see it. He was there through the happy and ugly times, and he never once let go of your hand. He has been patient with you through everything. He is the best man you have ever met.
Momo sighed again for the umpteenth time that day. "The biggest flaw on him though is that he's way, waaaay too dense. Remember that one time before you got together, a girl was obviously making a move on him and he didn't even know until the girl walked out calling him a jerk."
You laughed at that. "He's flirty at times but he's too numb when he's on the receiving end."
The two of you laughed at that.
°°°
Later that day, Momo texted you. She checked in with the studio staff and apparently, Minho tagging along to the music fest was a special request by the higher ups of the girls' agencies, and it was a sort of rushed request. You thanked her for the information, mentally punching yourself for ever doubting Minho like that.
The following day was Minho's trip to Gwangju. You couldn't drive him to the station due to an urgent meeting, so you just gave him a hasty farewell kiss on the lips while he was preparing his breakfast. He just smiled up at you without saying a word. That small gesture made your heart clench, feeling guilty for doubting him and not spending time with him the day prior. You made a mental note to welcome him properly upon his return.
But for now, you have to survive those three incoming days alone in your apartment.
The whole day, you couldn't concentrate at work. You kept on worrying if Minho had arrived safely in his destination, if he had eaten enough, if he was warm and hydrated enough. When you asked him all these through text, he only replied with a short "don't worry too much 💝" You didn't know what to feel about it. He certainly felt that something was off, you thought. He was probably mad at me.
When you got home, a plastic of takeout on one hand and a heavy burden on your chest, you were prepared to be welcomed by the saddening darkness and silence of the night. But instead, what welcomed you was a candle-lit dining table filled with all your favorite food, complete with wine plus smooth music.
Minho stepped out from your shared room, a bouquet of roses in hand, smiling shyly while scratching his neck.
"This isn't really my thing..." he whispered.
Meanwhile you stood there, frozen in place, your jaw slack. "W-why... Min... but you're supposed to be...?"
Minho laughed. "I asked Felix to take my place. He gladly accepted." He walked closer to you, handing you the roses. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice if my one and only jealous baby has been acting weirdly?"
Your eyes widened. You dropped your gaze to the floor, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" Minho stepped closer, caging you in a hug. "I'm the one who should be sorry for making you feel like that. I should never allow you to feel like you're lacking in any way. I should never give you a reason to doubt my love for you."
"But there was no reason. I was just reaching when I assumed you--"
"Sshh." Minho tightened the hug and kissed the top of your head. The two of you stayed like that for a while, swaying gently with the soft music.
"I love you, y/n. Longer than forever, I'm yours."
"I love you, too, Minho. I will love you longer than forever."
