No Longer | J.S
Johnny Suh x Singer! Reader
Warnings: I think swearing, hurt/comfort ( i didn't want to write comfort but couldn't resist), nct flopping in this universe.
WC: ~3.3k
Hi, bit of a small one but my holidays end tomorrow so I thought i'd get something out before then. Also me writing a serious fic? That's not about silly little guys in cars? What???? Also i'm sorry how disjointed the paragraphs are, this ones been baking for a loooong time and I didn't edit it L O L.
The shirt felt too tight around his chest and squeezing his arms into the suit jacket that followed it was a task of nightmares. And it made sense it didn’t fit, given that he had borrowed it from Taeil. Borrowed or begged for, what’s the difference?
Johnny anxiously adjusted his cuffs, pulling the black sleeves down to cover the flat-ironed cuffs of the white shirt underneath. He couldn’t complain that the suit was too short though. Taeil was kind enough to lend it to him at a very short-term notice. He just hoped no one there would comment on the ill fit.
If Taeil had noticed Johnny’s nerves as he busted into his room and frantically asked if he could borrow a suit, he didn’t mention it, which Johnny was very thankful for. He didn’t know how he would explain anything to anyone he knew if they asked about this.
He frantically checked his watch as the hands ticked closer and closer to 10pm. He strongly exhaled and leaned his head back against the hard seats of the taxi. He shut his eyes before opening them and accidentally making eye contact with the driver who was eyeing him through the mirror.
The driver quickly averted his eyes and Johnny released a small breath of air that could be heard as a chuckle. Johnny supposed he did look ridiculous. Barely put together, hair hanging wildly around his face, small suit paired with all-black trainers that he could’ve sworn were dress shoes when he grabbed them as he was rushing out the door.
Glancing out the window, all that greeted him was more traffic. He sighed and, as if summoned, drops of rain started hitting the glass panes. He once again adjusted his view forward and was met with the sight of the back of another car, altered by the many streaks of water running down the windshield.
The traffic then finally started moving and, as the taxi turned a corner, a brightly lit theatre came into view. Individual lightbulbs giving off more yellow than white light lined a board that hung over the entrance and ticket booth. The individual letters slotted into the board read, in all caps, “WORLD-FAMOUS SINGER SWEET-HEART PERFORMS 10PM SATURDAY”.
Johnny felt his breath catch in his throat as the taxi eventually slowed to a halt just outside the entrance. He quickly paid the driver and opened the door. The rain pelted him on the head as he gazed up at the signage.
“Sir? Are you here for the show?” Johnny’s head snapped to the ticket booth. He quickly walked over and searched for his ticket in his pockets. He grabbed it and presented it to the teenager working the stand.
“You’re lucky to get a ticket, I heard they sold out within 2 minutes.” The cashier chuckled as they scanned his ticket. Johnny contemplated this as he remembered the envelope Mark had slipped him earlier today, saying that he needed to see this.
He hadn’t understood his insistence until google had aided him in his search of ‘who is Sweet-Heart?’. How Mark had heard of you but he didn’t, he’ll never know. Johnny also made a mental reminder to pay back Mark with dinner or something, depending on how the night turned out.
“Well you’re all set. Enjoy the show!” The teen handed back the ticket and gestured Johnny inside the venue.
The inside was completely different from what Johnny expected. He knew it was a black suit event but the extravagant high ceilings with draped red and gold curtains and the eggshell white walls, covered in carving after carving, really put it into perspective.
The room was practically deserted apart from the clerk sitting lazily at the end behind a lecturn who straightened up after he saw him, obviously thinking everyone had entered the large oak doors behind him. Johnny followed the red carpet along the hardwood floors finally making it to the clerk, who awkwardly turned around and opened the doors.
Johnny, who was standing directly in between the two doors, was not expecting them to open onto a large hall, completely dark except from huge fog-lights shining on a stage. A stage from which a heavenly voice floated to Johnny’s ears, a voice so nice he doubted any recording could convey its melodies.
And Johnny would definitely have to take Mark out to dinner at some point because up on stage was his Sweetheart, though he doubts she would remember the name being used by him due to years of no use.
You had been friends while kids, both living within walking distance of each other and attending the small school. You had spent your early years being together constantly and being teased about being together constantly. Johnny could’ve bet that around highschool your years-deep friendship could’ve ended up going down a different path if you didn’t pack up in the middle of the night and move away without telling anyone and then never answering anyones texts or calls.
That had been a very difficult time for the young man, knowing that someone so close to him, someone he thought about everyday though it had been years since he’d last seen you, could just abandon him without a second thought, so when Mark had offered him tickets to your show, he couldn’t refuse regardless of the harm it was sure to cause him.
And, standing alone in the corridor between seated guests, Johnny could only take in the scale of what you had achieved without him. Thousands of people were seated here to watch you perform. You, an english speaker, in a room full of older Korean people, who were listening just because of how ethereal your voice sounded, even to the untrained ear. Even his google search had unprepared him for the magnitude of your popularity, though the sold out theater definitely began to put it into perspective.
The backlight of the foyer was enough to draw your attention to him, your voice never faltering even though your attention did. And through the large auditorium he could see a flash of recognition adorn your face, the missed note that caught in your breath as your eyes focused onto his silhouette.
The crowd surrounding Johnny grumbled at the pause in your serenade and you snapped your eyes from his face to stare another place in the room, desperately trying to avoid a repeat event as your eyes roved wild around the room.
Johnny felt his breath catch and his heart begin beating rapidly. You recognised him. Somehow from this huge crowd, you were able to see him and remember him. You were able to remember one of the only people who knew you before this and, at one point, had probably known you better than you knew yourself.
Murmurs in the crowd prompted Johnny to thank the door man and lumber down to his seat in one of the rows. After a few “excuse-me”’s, Johnny reached his seat, which seemed to be the only empty one of the house, and began to watch the rest of your performance.
The voice of an angel was truly an understatement, there was no way to convey the serenity of your vocals. No singer Johnny had ever listened to, no Cher, no Ariana, no Whitney, could even come close to matching the peace that encapsulated him when he heard your voice. Sure, maybe it was bias from a love that hadn’t been tampered with by time, but according to the sold-out theater, Johnny couldn’t be sure.
During your performance Johnny had to close his eyes to absorb the sheer impact of the fact that this whole time he could’ve been listening to your voice over his earphones or that he could have watched you grow from a small singer into the powerhouse you were today, but he wasn’t able to. And that was because you’d left.
You’d just up and left, never to be in contact with him again. This whole time Johnny had thought that he’d never see you again. Maybe that would’ve been a good thing, considering the amount of consideration you had for his feelings. But when had looked at him, Johnny knew that you recognised him. There was no way you didn’t. You wouldn’t just stop singing if someone came late to your show, right?
No, that’s ridiculous. As a performer, even in incredibly different venues, Johnny knew that people coming late didn’t inspire a reaction such as that.
It was that flash of seeing someone you knew. Johnny knew it, it had happened to him when his family had first flown over and were able to see his first stage. At the time just seeing his family's faces had the power to make him choke up.
Eventually the show came to a close after thunderous applause and people started standing up, but Johnny was rooted to his spot. He was debating between legging it out of there and trying to erase everything he’d seen and legging it out of there and keeping everything to himself. However he didn’t get a chance to choose as, when he stood up, an usher came to meet him in the aisle. A hurried explanation from the man exposed that you wanted to meet him.
Johnny felt his heart stop, stood stupidly still as people of all ages filed through the corridor he was blocking, muttering cusses his way. But that didn’t phase him, he roomed with a bunch of teenage boys for a large part of his life. What did phase him was the knowledge that you wanted to see him.
Did you want to talk? What, did you want to finally explain what the hell happened? Why he hadn’t heard from you in years only to finally see you with a life better than anything he could’ve given you? Why, after years of him preaching to you about how hard it was to become a singer, you had done it anyway? And how you’d done leagues better than anything he’d ever accomplished?
He still regretted how many years of his life he’d spent pining over the idol dream, how many sleepless nights he’d spent wondering if he could’ve been spending his life better but convincing himself it would be worth it only for it all to blow up in face and for his group to do terribly. They were on the verge of disbanding and here you were, with your fully booked house.
He shouldn’t feel bitter though. He had no connection to you in the present, every interaction with you was in the past. That’s the attitude Johnny had in his mind as he followed the usher, ignoring the confused looks he was getting as he was led backstage. He was so focused on retaining this ‘fan, not friend’ mindset, he didn’t even realise he was in front of your dressing room door before the usher tapped him on the shoulder.
He quickly thanked the man before turning back to your door and knocking. It took a minute but slowly the door handle started turning. Johnny took a step back as the door opened his way and there you were.
You were just as beautiful, if not more, than how he remembered you. You still had that persistent curl in your hair that you had to spend hours ironing out, still held yourself in the same posture, and still wore your heart on your sleeve. At least he had thought you wore your heart on your sleeve. But if that was true, he wouldn’t have been blindsided by your leaving.
He remained quiet as you took a shaky breath. He didn’t know why your breath was shaky, you were the one who’d deleted all your accounts after leaving, not letting him contact you.
“It really is you.” You whispered out and Johnny glanced up at you, more specifically the tears building in your eyes. He let his face remain completely passive as you launched yourself at him, feeling you grip the suit he wore with such force he may have to iron it before returning it.
He held his arms out wide as you clung to him like a drowning person clinging to a life vest, as though he was holding you up. A wet patch formed on the suit jacket, making it through to his white shirt, making him frown. Why were you crying? You’d left him behind.
“Oh my god.” He heard you breathe into his jacket and he left one pat on your back before stepping back, making you stumble as you were forced to release him. He ignored your confused expression and the tears falling out of your eyes in favour of looking at the makeup smudged onto his suit, a ‘tch’ escaping his mouth at the sight.
“I-I’m sorry about that.” You hiccupped, a tone he didn’t recognise plaguing your voice. “I can get it-t dry cleaned.” He looked up, once again ignoring the way his heart squeezed at the tears falling down your cheeks. You shouldn’t get to be sad, it was your fault.
“No need.” He said, his voice a bit more aggressive than he intended for a child-hood friend turned ghost-lover. He cleared his throat before starting the mini-speech he had hastily made in his head as he was led by the usher.
“Listen, you did great out there,” He ignored the enchanting smile that encompassed your face because of his praise.
“You did fantastic even, but I don’t know why you asked for me to come back here.” He said, watching the way your face fell.
“W-well I thought after like ten years you’d be happy to see me…” You said and he held back a scoff, still wanting to preserve as many of your feelings even though you hadn’t done the same for him.
“I don’t know why you’d think that.” He said coldly and didn’t see the way your face crumpled as though you’d been stabbed because he’d turned around and prepared to leave. A hand grabbed his wrist and he slightly turned to look at you.
“What happened? Why are you so mad?” You asked quietly and he didn’t hold back his laugh. He turned fully and stomped into your room, you backing away, only being pushed by his presence.
“Why am I so mad?” He asked, his fists clenched and an incredulous tone rampant through his voice.
“Why am I so mad?! You left! You just left in the middle of the night! I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to say anything!” He ranted, turning and pacing up and down your changeroom. You were stunned, not being able to answer him which only seemed to fuel him.
“And then what, a decade later I finally find you again. Only to see you’re doing incredible and, good for you and all, but you’re doing incredible without me! You’re living a better life alone, with no regard for me, than anything I could’ve ever given you!” Your continued silence seemed to drain all the fight out of him.
“That’s why I’m mad. I shouldn’t have come. God, Mark just did this to fuck with me.” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his forehead before turning to you again.
“Look, I’m happy for you, but I think it would be best if-”
“I’ve thought about you everyday since I left y’know. I’d wonder how you were doing. I was there when you debuted, I don’t know if you know. I was in the crowd. I watched you look at your family and I was happy. I was happy that you were happy.” You suddenly spoke up, your words knocking the air out of Johnny’s body.
“All through our school years I’d see you with other kids and see how you were able to interact freely with them and how you were always smiling. And I saw that and I thought ‘How could I ever be that happy?’. I finally realised my happiness was with you but then I realised that that was too selfish, I needed to find a way to be happy without relying on you.”
“So you fucking left? You think I’d care that you were happy with me?” Johnny interrupted, getting mad again.
“I left because I thought that I would stop how happy you were, regardless of my own feelings. Everyone knows, you can’t be an idol with a partner, it just doesn’t work out. We both knew that’s where we were going. I knew that if I didn’t leave, I’d eventually end up without you anyways, and it would be easier to start making my own happiness earlier.” You said and Johnny went quiet for a second.
There was a million questions he wanted to ask. Why didn’t you say goodbye? Why didn’t you give us a chance? Why did you become a singer? But he eventually settled on:
“Did it work? Are you happy without me?” He asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer. You took a pause before a second wave of tears flooded down your cheeks.
“I don’t think I’ve ever regretted anything more.” He could barely hear you through the hiccups reverberating through your throat.
“Everyday I’ve tried to tell myself that it was for the best, but I can never seem to convince myself. It’s torture, knowing I gave up without trying, that we could’ve been something. But I fucked it up, and it’s my responsibility.” You could barely get it out, choked sobs interrupting your monologue. Johnny could only watch as the person he’d once regarded as the love of his life broke down in front of him.
“Y-you don’t have to stick around, you can leave if you want.” You choked out after a minute but Johnny stayed still, the many questions he had fighting to spawn on the tip of his tongue. But before he could ask more you took a shuddering breath and slid down a wall to the floor, wrapping your arms around your drew up knees and hanging your head before your knees and chest.
After a moment, Johnny slid down the wall with you. Questions could wait, you crying would always be his top priority, even when he was still mad at you. He wrapped his arms around your shuddering form and whispered sweet nothings as you continued to sob. After a few minutes you stopped sobbing, quietly sniffling, and Johnny continued to sit there, you savoring the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.
“I’d understand if you never saw me again.” You said quietly and you felt Johnny nod against your head, an action that inspired more tears to leak from your eyes. It had always been too good to last.
“Unfortunately sometimes what we probably should do is not what we want to do.” He said quietly, placing a kiss against your head, leaving you to ponder the meaning behind that sentence. After a few seconds he sighed.
“I don’t think I’d ever not want to be with you.” He said and you tried to swivel your head to look at him, but you were held back by his arms.
“But I definitely need time. I have and probably always will love you, but right now, I don’t trust you.” As much as it hurt to say, Johnny knew it was the right thing to do. Johnny was only affirmed in this when you nodded your head below his chin. He turned you around to make eye contact with you, taking in your red eyes and wobbly chin. He pressed a small kiss to your forehead.
“I’ve missed you.” While sweet, it still prompted you to burst into a fresh set of tears, one which Johnny teasingly rolled his eyes at.
“Crybaby.” He joked and you could only laugh, happy to be reunited with your happiness.
bah, humbug. Not checking formatting, sorry!!!
