#thr:ead

[jaeneral]

@sunmiv | moving on.

“i teach you a new card game and this is how you repay me,” disappointed, but not surprised that sunmi is submitting him to such mischief. 

a short moment of pause. 

a second card inspection is required, squinted eyes leafing through the thick lenses of his glasses. swearing that his hand was comprised of two of hearts, three of spades, a queen, a king and a black joker would stupidly give away the great advantage he had on her. an absent, long-gone advantage. so be it. “these hungarians know how to make easy card games, and i thought i mastered it, but look at you... ruining everything in a matter of seconds. and i read so much about it on the internet. you’re really ruinin’ my moment of glory.” he would never point an accusing finger at her, not in a serious manner, but she’ll have the fun out of all this. it’s obvious and he has noticed it; the way her lips quiver, holding back that resounding laughter.

“give them back,” pokes his arm ahead, waiting for his friend to give up on the cards so he can shuffle them again. little does she know that he’s planning to cheat a little in return, mostly fuelled by her antics. “this is what i get for not being smart enough for poker. d’you know how?”

[jaeneral]

@sunmiv | moving on.

“formaggio? prosciutto? are we speaking italian now?”

his lack of courage and interest in messing with the forbidden world of the paranormal has considerably gaped the distance between them, up to the point that her voice transmitted through his second-hand walkie-talkie sounded distorted, jumbling her words and pretty much leaving him confused. only on the outside. trying to decipher whatever he was hearing wouldn’t have been that much of a hard task; he just didn’t feel bothered enough to try.

“i looked over that list of patients you showed me. just briefly. only briefly enough not to memorize any name on there. but if there was any italian person inked down, i would have noticed it. maybe we gonna meet him. should we thank his ancestors for inventing pizza? i’ll even let him know what crazy varieties we have in today’s age.”

he knew however that, if had been given the chance, he wouldn’t have been able to enjoy any last meal before going in there. looming in the distance, the grotesque shape of the building melted into the darkened horizon, as if it was slowly being transmuted into a whole new bizarre and unnatural creature. a grim sight to look upon. as if pulled by an unstoppable force beyond his reach, his legs started to move one step at a time, jae barely paying attention to the fact that his heavy breathing was probably being thoroughly recorded and sent over to her own talking device.

“okay. i’m movin’. i am movin’... and damn you, if this is my last night on earth, i’ll fucking haunt you on the other side. you know, i’m gonna put in my earphones and listen to a song or two while gettin’ there. courage boost. if you see me, just imagine bee gees’ stayin’ alive is playing in the background, cuz that’s gonna be my general mood once i step into your freaky asylum.”

the crunch of dead leaves crackled under his boots as he kept walking towards where sunmi was waiting for him, an autumn chill turning his cheeks red and stiff with coldness. and he still didn’t know why he was doing that. why, for sunmi, of course.

he should have asked to be payed for all these horror trips she was forcing him into.

[jaeneral]

@slayeoff​ | moving on.

“never say never”, the curve of his lips alludes to an almost playful, lopsided smile, his index finger reaching up to scratch at his nose, “that’s true.” with a click of his tongue, it almost sounds as if he’s tasting his own words, to make sure they convey the exact meaning that’s resonating inside his mind. 

after quite a few months of spending time with taeyeon, now and then depending on their equally busy schedules, he has learned that he has gotten used to her reticence; such a characteristic trait of hers that he cannot think of taeyeon without picturing her as a silent, almost brooding and perpetually daydreaming young woman. but he can also tell just fine that she’s starting to warm up to him and his very different personality. he can joke without stopping midway, freezing in his place because of some dooming realization that he may have offended her or given her some sort of wrong impression. for him, that’s enough. to ask for a lot from a friendship is unlike him.

it’s perhaps her next gesture that confirms it.

and his reaction is that of an amused, albeit a little confused, smile. “took you a while to reach me, huh?” alluding to her short height is something he would never pass on. “but alright --- i’m feeling nice today.” bluffing. he’s nice pretty much all the time and everyone who’s close to him knows that. “ask me again and i’ll give a proper answer. what was it you were curious about? what would i do if... what?”

just like she has just done moments ago, he has halted his steps, comically towering in front of her while lazily shoving his hands inside his pockets.

[jaeneral]

@chiaes​ | moving on.

to describe him as a picky eater doesn’t even begin to encompass just how finicky he truly is. it takes just one quick glance and he can accurately asses whether he’s gonna like or dislike something that’s been thrown on his plate. and, god forbid, if it happens to be the second route, he won’t tolerate the said food anywhere near him, not even at gun point.

but this is chaeyoung’s money he’s actually criticizing, since she has insisted to pay for the meal and everything, as a chance for the two idols to hang out a little and catch up on work stuff and other personal matters. “well...”, he begins, clicking his pair of chopsticks together as he pokes the first piece of meat, “this looks too dry and like it’s made of grey matter. i can already feel all my taste buds dying just by looking at it. it’s so sad. who cooked it? anyways.” he goes on, moving the pair of chopsticks towards the second piece. “too much blood. too juicy. this... you know, just no.” and he’s onto the third piece, the chopsticks pressed into it, and for the first time since they’ve entered the restaurant, a glimpse of slight content beams on his face. “huh. this actually looks decent.”

he settles for that at last, eating in silence as the need to explain himself slowly arises. “i mean, i’m happy you bought this for me. don’t get me wrong, i appreciate it. but i feel like we’ve been given the worst meat they’ve had in their kitchen. we can do a rock, paper, scissors tho. however, the loser will have to order the one food they hate the most and eat it. i hate a lot, so if i lose, i’m gonna ruin my own night. but hey, who cares?”

[jaeneral]

@xnotangeles​ | moving on.

the window sill is wide enough to encompass his relatively skinny frame, the light in his eyes loitering outside the window. he’s feeling as if he needs a couple of moments to think about her words, though nothing helpful flashes through his mind. 

as much as he wants to understand her, his soul is wired differently. there’s plenty of patience withing him. there’s also the belief that everything which needs to happen transpires eventually, but only when it’s the right time. he can sense however that this is something she may not want to hear right now. the least he can do is meet her eyes at last. “i like to think that people rarely feel lonely in my company,” he pulls at his own sleeves, until only the tip of his fingers are visible. these are hardly useful words, he chides himself, though there’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips. just to show that he’s trying. after all, he’s been nagging her in the last hour to keep talking.

now he reaps what he sowed. “strange feeling,” that’s something they can both agree on; perhaps not in the same way. “but i can’t change the way you are. i can make people laugh. they forget about their worries for a few minutes. if i’m funny enough at the moment.” you can’t back away now; trust is fragile, don’t disappoint her.

[jaeneral]

@sanatzk | moving on.

he squeezes his fist around the hem of the shirt, blue veins branching out beneath the pale sheath of his skin. how can he really accept this? while his label mate is being sweet and reasonable about it, he’s just too stubborn to acknowledge her point of view as the correct one. but wouldn’t it be far worse to cast the gift away and never wear it for the fans to see? such an expensive item must be the result of a collective effort. “alright,” he acquiesces at last, not without a certain reluctance lingering at the edges. “i’m far happier seeing them attending the concerts, and that’s enough for me. some of them go a little too far though.”

the pinpoint oxford shirt feels soft and light under his touch, its pale blue almost gleaming in the light of the rehearsal room. “what’s sadder is that i don’t see any occasion for this thing. goes for formal and fancy stuff. oh well. but yeah sure.” he gives her free pass to look through whatever bags and boxes she wishes. all while hoping he won’t run into another uncomfortably expensive gift.

[jaeneral]

@bachye | moving on.

a sense of misgiving creeps up on him, provoked by the way she’s holding her hand atop his shoulder, and he knows what’s coming. i’m glad you’re finally admitting you’re actually stupid. i knew it all the time. he sighs. without remorse however, because this happens each time they’re hanging out. one way or another, she ends up questioning him. and he’s never set on clarifying things of course. “i didn’t,” he starts in jest, but he’s giving his best not to smile. “thank you for opening my eyes and making me realise that i lack intellect. what would i do without someone like you?”

he surely knows his math --- the basic pack. just like everyone else. enough math not to be considered stupid by most, but right now he’s in no mood to put his brain at work. as he fishes for his mobile phone, he clears his throat, pretending not to hear her at first. there she goes questioning him again; if he stays silent, he’ll surely get a glare or two. oh, and more nagging.

“smart-passing.” he begins, almost solemnly, while his fingertips skitter all over his phone’s screen for the calculator app. “it’s truly a marvellous concept. interesting, difficult to understand and it really makes you think.” bullshitting. she’ll soon grow tired of it, most likely roll her eyes and ignore him for the rest of the day. the old ‘i refuse to admit that i know this guy’ act. will she do the hand pressed on her forehead thing? that usually means she’s really had enough of his nonsense, but it only fuels his wish of getting on her nerves. “oh hey, look.” he’s added the prices of the stuff she wanted to throw in the basket, but he’s literally shoving the bright screen in her face. without intention, surely. 

“happy now? my phone’s doing all the thinking for me. next time ask it directly, you don’t need to pass through park jaehyung. i heard he’s dumb as a rock.”

[jaeneral]

@elvidercni | moving on.

knowledge is power.

it’s just that, in his case, the power has never resided within his own hands. the concept of knowledge and its effects on life are perhaps too deep to understand, especially for his mind right now. must be the sun and the summer heat at fault, must be his leisured attitude, or something else he’s got no idea about. there’s one thing he’s actually certain of: knowledge has power over him. when you memorise, when you learn, when you get used to it, when it’s everything your mind can think of. and then it’s gone.

he knows. he knows the way she’s lowering her chin and avoiding his eyes whenever he’d ask her about her day, and she’d meekly admit that she didn’t do well in practice again. he knows the way she’d bite her own nails when she’d get playful around him, trying to steal whatever new t-shirts he’d purchase. he knows the way her back curved against the touch of his hands, his hardened skin leaving feathery touches through the woollen material of her autumn sweater. he knows the way her fingers pinch the strings of his guitar, the way her lips move when she sings, the way her face brightens up in a large grin when she gets happy. he knows how to be sad with her, he knows how to be serious with her, he knows when to advise her and when to remain silent. he just knows. it’s part of him, just the way his heart, lungs and blood are.

so what can he do with all this knowledge now that she’s not around anymore?

“you’re all talk,” he chides hyuntae with a scowling look. “i mean, i agree. we gotta move on. but how? easier said, than done.” pretty difficult to admit it out loud as well, but he’d rather keep this to himself. he already feels weak as it is; no reason to submit himself even more to his vulnerabilities. “if you can find a wikihow article, share it. i need it explained step by step. i need it explained as if i’m a stupid kid who just started kindergarten and he can’t tell the difference between one and two. maybe then i’d get it. in theory at least.”

“i’ve started liking her since she was... 16. i think she was 16, yeah. catching her eyes on me from across the table or the room made my heart pound heavily. as if i was falling in love with a girl for the first time ever. as if all my failed college hook-ups never happened. she made me realise just what a beginner i was. and just how much i didn’t know about a girl’s heart.” he’s looking through hyuntae, beyond the shirt he would rather not criticise anymore --- he could call it ugly 20 times, it’s doubtful that his friend would go and change it --- and it’s as if he sees her again, somewhere in the distance.

dark-haired and timid, hinting at a sweet smile as she peers up with those smiling eyes, noticing him. sad to say he’d feel the happiest if she were the only person on the planet to be aware of his existence. everyone else can ignore him. he’s fine with that.