Rule Of Rose (Block B Horror fanfic) (on Wattpad) http://my.w.tt/UiNb/UWiq7dschC
Tras haber huido de casa por una discusión con su familia, Jaehyo se adentra en una solitaria carretera en donde piensa haber cometido un acto atroz, pero luego las cosas se ponen mucho peores y se ven envuelto en un mundo lleno de pesadillas y escalofriantes sucesos que le harán temer por su vida, el deberá lograr sobrevivir para poder escapar de su fatal destino.
Kyung hasn't been in the studio for months.
Jiho misses him, calls him, asks to come over in the middle of the night.
And he thinks they'll be together, like they used to. Just them.
also posted on ao3.
He's alone at the studio, as usual. It's late, he has sent everyone else home. He enjoys the silence, the way the tapping of his foot echoes in the room. No sounds except for the sole of his shoes against the wooden floor and the sound coming from his headphones.
It wasn't always like that, and if Jiho is honest to himself, he taught himself to like this situation. Being all alone, all by himself, being without Kyung.
His desk is collecting dust, the lightbulb in his lamp doesn't work anymore, hasn't worked for months. Kyung said he'll replace it next time he's coming over. The last time Kyung was here, the last leaves fell to the ground and Jiho wore a scarf. He wipes his forehead, fans himself with his hand and opens the windows, hoping for a slight late night breeze to find the way into the room.
His phone buzzes, too many new e-mails. Another commercial, another gig, another confirmation mail from another flight company for another trip.
He ignores it, all of it, opens kakaotalk. Kyung texted him, 3 times. Jiho didn't answer, because he forgot, because he's bad at texting, always has been, because he is a kid at heart, who just wants his best friend to come over and play with him like he used to.
He sent a picture as well, eyeliner, teased hair, white dress shirt with too much chest showing. He's winking, biting his lip, cheeks flushed.
'Going out with Minhyukkie tonight~ don't stay up too late, ok? I'll check! ~<3'
Minhyuk has on hand on his shoulder, while Kyung is leaning on his. Jiho didn't answer.
He's not jealous, just worried, alone, he misses Kyung and he's sweating and can't understand why someone would go out tonight, to sit in crowded bars and dance and get even sweatier.
He closes the window, turns on the fan.
Maybe he's just frustrated, because the beat just doesn't sound right now matter how much he plays around with it, he can't come up with a good hook for his new track, he's stuck, unable to work on any of his projects.
And Kyung could be the one to get him back on track, but he's not here, he's out, he's not alone, not like him.
JIho walks over to the mini fridge in the corner, grabs a six pack of cheap mixed beer from the gas station. Kyung used to complain because he gets 'the worst hangover you could ever imagine' from cheap alcohol. Kyung used to bring whiskey and good soju.
He opens the first can, messes with the beat again.
He opens the second can, takes out his notebook and tries to come up with some verses.
He opens the third can, deletes the picture kyung sent him from his phone.
He opens the fourth can, googles how to restore deleted files.
He opens the fifth can, calls Kyung, just reaches the mailbox.
'Hey, uhm, it's me, Jiho. You know, if you want to, you can crash at the studio later, I know it's closer than the dorms and I don't know, maybe you can help me with some stuff later. Call me when you hear this, alright Kyunggie?'
He doesn't open the sixth can, because maybe Kyung wants a beer when he comes, even if it's cheap and he'll get a hangover from it. Jiho would take care of him.
He gets up, puts away a few loose papers and old clothes he left here weeks ago. His second home. It's messy, because Jiho rarely lets people in, so it doesn’t matter. He likes his privacy, and doesn't mind the mess. Kyung never did either.
After half an hour, he gets excited. Kyung will come, for sure. He checks his phone a lot, even when he's out, he'll see the message, listen to it, get a taxi and stand in his doorframe. And they'll be together, like they used to. Just them.
He even dusts the desk. It feels like his world turning from sepia to color.
After another half an hour, he gets anxious. What if he doesn't come. What if he doesn't the message, because his battery died, because he just forgets, like Jiho forgets to reply to texts. What if it'l be awkward. What if he doesn't want to come, because hanging out with Jiho seems like so much less fun than being out and getting drinks and dancing with Minhyuk.
After ten minutes, he shakes the thoughts off. They've always been each others number ones, the one person they'd ditch anyone and anything for. Jiho would fly across the world just to say hello if Kyung asked him to, and Kyung would do the same. Jiho would leave every single one of his other friends behind for Kyung. He'd do the same.
For the next hour, he checks his phone, checks if he has service, sometimes even looks out the window to see if a taxi or Kyungs silhouette appears.
He waits, his heart beating, excitement and happiness rushing through his veins instead of blood. It has been their thing, to work all night together in this studio, just them, nobody else allowed. They didn't talk for hours, just listened to their own tracks and the others breath. It was enough, they didn't need another pair of lungs joining them, didn't need a third heart interrupting theirs beating in synch. It was an unsaid thing between them, never talked about it, but both completely agreed - this is their time together, a time that can't be shared.
Kyung calls back, after another hour.
Apologizes, once, twice, for making him wait so long.
'I'm coming over now, it's been a while since we worked together. I missed you.' He slurs a little and Jiho tries not to tell him that he missed him too, every time he went here and saw his dusty desk.
He just jokes instead. 'You sound super drunk.'
'One is more inspired when intoxicated.' He can hear the grin in his voice. How could he resist. 'I'm hungry by the way, can you get us something to eat?'
'I'll get us chicken I guess.' He shakes his head, smiling. He missed him. He called back.
'Can you get 3 chickens? I'll bring Minhyuk with me, if you don't mind. I'm helping him with his solo song, and he's super inspired right now as well.' The grin, again. The slurring, again.
'Sure, why not.' How could he resist.
One heart didn't beat in synch with the other two and Jiho couldn't tell who it belonged to.
Kyung knows every shade of Jiho, the blues, the reds, the yellows and everything in between, and he loves that.
Kyung can’t even beging to describe all the colors of Minhyuk, and he’s sure he’ll never be able to, and he loves that.
Zico/Kyung/Minhyuk, 570 words. Also posted on ao3.
Kyung knows every color of Jiho.
He knows the dark red of his anger, the light blue of his soft smile and vibrant yellow of his laughter. He knows all the shades of grey when he’s tired, from anthracite when he’s been working for days to the light grey, almost beige tone of the slight fatigue after a long car ride.
He could paint a million pictures with all the colors of Jiho, of beautiful sunsets, a sky filled with orange and pale pinks, of stormy seas in dark grey and deep deep blue. Forests with faint yellow light falling through the green leaves, blue tinted, glass covered facades of white buildings, Jiho is all of it.
Jiho has many colors, more than any field of flowers, any rainbow, and Kyung knows them all, all the ways the colors mix and create Woo Jiho. The purple of frustration, when things don’t go the way he wants to, and sadness and anger, blue and red, come together and he shakes his head and taps his finger on the table and raises his voice faster than usual.
The fresh, pretty green of lazy sundays, filled with naps, laughs, jokes and teasing.
When Kyung thinks of him, it’s light pink and baby blue, whites and lilacs, but also deep violets, hot pinks, black and navy blue. Infinite shades, but Kyung knows them all, know their meaning, can interpret them, can tell every time what color Jiho is without thinking twice.
When Kyung thinks of Minhyuk, he can’t describe the colors, he doesn’t know their names, their meaning, but he feels them, all of them.
They’re both vibrant but toned down, dark and light, so bright Kyung thinks he needs to shield his eyes but so muted at the very same time. His voice feels like the color of coffee beans, his words are a dark pink. His laugh is almost white, the clapping of his hands and his squinting eyes are yellow and green, all at once.
Kyung thinks every time he’s with Minhyuk, he sees a new color, discovers a new way the light reflects and hits his Iris.
If Jiho has infinite shades, Minhyuk has infinite+1, times two, squared, impossible to imagine, impossible to describe, impossible to memorize, so Kyung doesn’t try to.
When he’s with Minhyuk, he just leans back and watches him changing from turquoise to purple to orange back to turquoise, with hints of indigo and cyan and gold. He doesn’t try to name the color Minhyuk turns when he’s trying to make a joke but fails because he starts laughing before it’s even finished.
If he ever got asked to describe the painting that is Woo Jiho, he’d do so, detailed, for hours, going on and on about the slight green tint when he’s concentrated and the bits of blue in his yawns.
And he loves that he can do that, that he’s able to distinguish between the coral of his passion and the salmon shade of his sulkiness.
If he ever got asked to describe the painting that is Lee Minhyuk, he’d shake his head and say he can’t, that he doesn’t know how to put the mix of the teal of his perfectionism and the fuchsia of his movements in words, that he’s not able to properly convey how the colors shift, mix, reflect, not their beauty and their allure. And he loves that just as much.
Kyung just released Inferiority Complex and Minhyuk is so very proud.
'I’ll be back in a minute!‘ Kyung said before shutting the door of his car, leaving Minhyuk alone in the backseat.
It’s been much more than a minute, but Minhyuk knows how it goes, Kyung probably got caught up in a conversation, people might have stopped him to congratulate him. Minhyuk is proud. Kyung works and works without ever complaining, without loosing his smile, his bright nature. It isn’t easy, Minhyuk knows that. Between Problematic Man, being a Block B member, a solo artist, Kyung had little time to be just Kyung, to be just a boyfriend, a 24 year old.
Minhyuk doesn’t mind being alone a lot, he likes having his freedom, likes doing things on his own from time to time. The thing that really bothered him the past weeks was Kyung not taking enough care of himself.
He always says he’s fine, but Minhyuk sees it, the tired eyes and sunken in cheeks. He hopes after this, Kyung will let himself have a break.
A little sound from his phone announces a download is done.
'Promise me you’ll buy the song!‘ Kyung has said just before their V-App Broadcast started, loud, joking, glowing with excitement and pride. Absolutely lovely. He pinky promised, seeing Kyungs smile filling the entire building with light as they interlocked their fingers. Minhyuk is sure that even in the darkest of nights, one would be able to spot Kyung.
He connected his phone to the car speakers, and listens to the melody he saw Kyung working on for weeks once again.
'Do you think the chorus is okay like this? What about the beat? I don’t think the beat is catchy enough yet, it misses something, maybe I should play around with the snare again.‘
He’s cute when he’s working on music, Minhyuk thought while Kyung scribbled notes on the back of his hand he wouldn’t be able to read later.
He called Minhyuk after an hour in the studio, asking him if he remembers what they said. Minhyuk did, he always does.
Kyungs signature 'Aiight‘ makes him chuckle, he recalls Kyung standing in the booth, recording it over and over again until he was pleased. He put his everything into this.
Minhyuk could hear his laugh in the instrumental, see his smile while rapping, feel his passion, his endless love for music.
He takes out his phone. Maybe he should show Kyung some support on social media, show the world how proud he is, how great this is, even though Minhyuk already told him in person many many times. He always does.
He records himself with the melody playing in the background, moving his head along to the beat, showing thumbs up and mouthing along. It’ll make Kyung happy he thinks as he posts it, and Kyungs happiness is all that counts right now.
He types in #wishingforsuccess as the song stops, and means it, more than many other things he’s said in his life. He saw Kyung coming home early in the morning, falling onto the bed fully clothed and instantly falling asleep. Minhyuk always woke him up again, making sure he undressed, brushed his teeth, drank a cup of water. It’s not his usual way, but he felt like Kyung deserved someone who takes care of him when he can’t, so Minhyuk does, early in the morning, late at night, even when he himself is exhausted and tired.
The car door opens up.
'I’m so sorry, I met like 50 persons I had to talk to, hope you didn’t get too bored!‘
Minhyuk just shakes his head, the fatigue slowly taking over his body. He wants to go home, wrap Kyung in his arms and feel his soft skin against his own while falling asleep to his song, listening to his voice and his calming heartbeat.
The brightness of Kyungs phone screen turns the car light blue as he checks his messages one last time.
ÄHey, you posted something while I was gone.‘
Minhyuk hears him play the video and sees his face lighten up, his lips curling into a smile once again this day.
And so do Minhyuks, they always do.
