you feel at home when you're with him. you know that sounds like an over used, washed out cliche, but you cannot deny the sense of comfort that immediately washes over you whenever he's near. he reminds you of hong kong, something familiar, something that doesn't exactly add up to you, even in your mind, but you have long accepted the fact that not everything 'adds up', or that everything has to 'make sense'.

  (lately, nothing has made sense. you decide that this is okay, and move on).

you're staring at the back of his head, his hair up in a tassled mess of red and hair spray - the chemicals obtained in the soft strands mean nothing, as he runs his hands through his hair out of nervous habit, rattling and shaking off the dyed colored annoyance that's been in his eyes for the whole day.

your thoughts as of the past couple of weeks have only happened to be about him. and this is usual, but the sudden feeling of your heart pounding, breath shrinking in the slightest (yet noticeable) way, is not. you're driving yourself insane, going around in circles that you cannot even begin to actually put much thought into.

you've never questioned who you are. you're jackson wang, the funny, athletic, smart, talkative,  cheerful person that you believe yourself to be, and always have been. or well, you thought, anyway. other people would describe you with these adjectives, you know because you've asked them; add 'curious' to that list, as well. there are many things to describe you, things that you were once so sure of, but now the words are daunting on you, shifting your self confidence and self worth to the edge, a feeling that you've heard a lot about, never wanted, but eventually got stuck with, anyway.

the interview then begins, making your mind go from self doubt to self awareness. you're suddenly thinking about how you look, if you're making the right facial expression for the camera, if you're talking loudly enough, being funny enough, being enough of the happy, bubbly side of yourself that the fans are used to knowing. and this is how you genuinely are, most of the time; you just wish that people would see that you too are human, despite being an idol, k-pop star, jackson wang. there's much more to you than that, something that the fans may or may not ever see, and you're not sure which way would be better.

(you wish that they would see that you have emotions and feelings, too. you're not a robot. you're not a porcelain doll set up to be clawed at by the industry. you eventually get worn down just like everyone else does, something that others seem to forget from time to time).

the interviewer suddenly startles you out of your introspection, saying something that you didn't quite catch, and when she calls your name again, restating her question in a more firm tone this time, you feel like your body freezes on impact.

"so, jackson. looks like you've got a new love interest, hm?"

the question is very direct, something that you're not quite expecting. the other members turn to look at you, each giving wide eyed expressions, flickers of different emotions lacing through their eyes as they continue to stare, waiting for an answer. your thoughts are on hyperdrive, and you think that you see a flash of hurt pang in mark's appearance, something that you try your best not to focus on.

the interviewer must be talking about seulgi, a friend of yours that you just so happened to hang out with before this weekend. both of your schedules are usually jam packed, so when the opportunity came up to go be around a friend that you haven't seen in a while - of course you had to take it. you didn't consider the press putting more thought into it than that.

('straight' is also a word that describes you. you think, anyway. with the way that you've been feeling lately, you can't say that the word relates to you in the slightest).

"she's just a friend."

you say the simple four word answer, not willing to elaborate any further. the interviewer looks like she doesn't believe you, looking taken aback for a moment, but doesn't question further; she gives you a side glance, then moves on to pestering the other members, and you sigh quietly, happy that she didn't push the subject any more than necessary.

(not that that question was necessary in the first place. they just like knowing that they can shake you up, is all. it's working.)

~

the seven of you get back to the dorm, and the air in the room is almost quiet, silent except for the untying of shoes and peeling off of jackets. things have shifted since the interview, and now all that you want to do is go back to your and mark's room and sleep for the rest of the day. so that is what you do, after you change into something more comfortable - sweats and a dark blue t-shirt, your hair ruffled, the blonde becoming more like waves at the end.

you lay down on your bed, curling around the soft warmth of the blankets, the crashing tired feeling hitting you all at once. before long you feel your eyes slowly close, your breathing leveling out, and soon you're in a dreamless sleep that absorbs you for hours.

~

he isn't the same as he used to be. your thoughts run rapidly, tripping over themselves, new ideas and information passing through your brain every second of the day. you want the questioning sinking feeling of uncertainty to stop; you don't want to have to analyze every little thing that comes up between you two. but the way that he's been acting lately has you ticking boxes of uncharacteristic qualities that all add up to a new side of him; a side that you're not sure of whether to be thankful or inappreciative towards.

people grow. that's one of the most basic, realistic life lessons that you have learned. but when a person grows too fast, too uncertainly, too recklessly - that's when problems can start to arise. you feel them bubbling up within the group, at first just little things like bickering more than usual, or the occasional biting comment towards each other. this soon blossoms to actual arguing, choreography lessons left uncompleted because the members simply cannot stand to be around each other. and you don't argue, just go with the flow of things, trying to maintain the image that you're supposed to - careless, happy - as you continue to talk and act around the other members in public as you usually do. or did, before things started to turn like they had.

(people change. he changed. you find that you're not willing to let yourself fully believe this yet, even though you know that it's true).

he's still your best friend. things may be rocky between the two of you, and the clash of the bottle on the table may mean something more than you're willing to admit, and the words that have chased after the both of you late at night may be more poisonous than you'd like to think - but he's still you're safe haven, someone that you can't bear to let out of your life, someone that you cling to desperately in the hopes that something, anything will become like it was before.

~

he kisses you with languid. his lips on yours feels like electricity, coursing through your body, creating sparks in its wake. his tongue tastes like a mixture of peppermint, alcohol and nicotine, and while you hate that he's been consumed by these habits, you also cannot deny that the taste strikes something different within you. you will the thoughts out of your mind, focusing on the connection that you two are sharing.

you hope that you won't regret this in the morning. or that he won't. neither, if you're lucky enough.

he traces the pattern of your skin, slipping your shirt over your body, pulling your pants down past your knees and onto the floor, grabbing the little bottle off of the dresser, then makes his way towards you again. you let yourself be consumed by him, and when he pushes in, you find yourself lost with ecstasy, liking the feeling of just letting go for once. you let him take the reigns, let yourself fall quickly and dauntingly behind him.

(in the morning you wake up alone, your lower body aching in the best yet worst ways possible. you find mark in the living room, talking to the others, and when you make eye contact, it becomes clear what he's thinking. you don't talk to each other for the rest of the day).

~

you lean across the balcony, letting your muscles relax, your worries drop, and your mind slow down. it's been a while since you've actually been by yourself, and while you love the other boys, you like your alone time, too. so there you stand, in the warmth of the summer, outside of the house that contains a party that Amber has thrown annually since the beginning of her career. you're staring at the stars, letting their beauty pronounce itself as much as it's wanted to; they have a lot of it to accommodate.

(the stars also hold supposed secrets, supposed fates, which you find beautiful, but cause your mind to reel on a daily basis. would you have still met mark if you both didn't decide to take a chance, and defy the possibilities? if he would've stayed in california, and you in hong kong? the two worlds are an ocean away, seemingly unreachable towards each other, and you are eternally thankful that the stars aligned so that you met him - and youngjae, bambam, jaebum, jinyoung and yugyeom, too. you love them all to death, and probably will continue to love them even after that, also.)

your presence is placed beside another person, and you look down from the sky to see him standing there, his gaze landing on you. he seems to be debating something, before he opens his mouth to speak, the words trailing into the air to be heard for the both of you.

"do you regret?"

the question seems to have multiple meanings. and yet the answer is still the same no matter what context it's used in.

"no."

the response leaves your mouth without even having to think about it, and your eyes are drawn to the way that his lips trace upward, leaving a certain twinkle in his eyes that haven't been approached (nor seen) in a while. he comes closer to you, and when his lips meet yours, you can only describe the feeling as being like water and fire meeting, conjoining together.

so different yet so alike. maybe the two of you were made from the same star, after all.