If a friendship starts with a bow, how does it end?

 

“Good morning!” Hyukjae doesn’t have time to take a good look at the face of whoever it is before they bow 90 degrees to him. Wow. Well, if he’s honest about it, it sure is a nice change to not be the one bowing for once. He, in turn, inclines his head slightly the way he’d seen seniors do before when they don’t want to be too rude but also want to assert dominance over their juniors.

 

The sudden sign of respect would’ve been enough to make him happy for the whole day, but then the boy looks up. Woah.

 

Hyukjae’s looking into a pair of eyes; wide, round, twinkling, glistening, sparkling eyes. How old is this kid? He barely even looks 12, with those huge eyes and soft cheeks.

 

“My name is Lee Donghae, nice to meet you!”

 

Hyukjae swears he’s gonna take care of this kid for the rest of his life.

 

If a friendship starts with a bow, does it end with… a handshake?

 

Hyukjae can’t believe this is actually happening. What even is a “rotation group”? He looks around the room and sees the same confusion and shock mirrored on all the boys’ faces.

 

Hyukjae’s lips set into a hard line. If he’s going to have to fight to have a chance of debut, then he’ll make sure he’s the last one standing. Everyone looks at each other uncertainly.

 

Donghae’s hands slowly extend towards him. “Looks like we’re rivals now.” His eyes are gloomy, body shakes, eyes plead for something Hyukjae couldn’t name.

 

Hyukjae looks into the wide eyes sparkling with tears and thinks no, no way i could ever go against you but he smiles and nods and says “Yeah, I guess we are.” When he takes Donghae’s hands the touch is icy cold.

 

They sleep that night in each other’s arms, each silently and desperately begging for the other to make it right. But neither of them say anything, and they listen to the sounds of fear and unspoken words and promises that couldn’t be made until they drift off.

 

Sometimes Donghae will barge into Hyukjae’s room in the middle of the night, whimpering about bad dreams and not being able to sleep. Hyukjae then grumbles, groans, complains, and lets him onto his bed anyway. Even then Donghae can’t sleep and Hyukjae talks about whatever comes to his mind until Donghae’s breathing slows and he nods off.

 

“If a friendship starts with a bow, how does it end?” Hyukjae asks Donghae one day.

 

“With a backflip,” Donghae replies. Cue laughter.

 

They soon realise that the world is against them and they’re not meant to succeed, listen to the reassurances of their superiors saying “You’re doing well!” and hear “You’re not making it past this year”, see their paychecks and think pension funds.

 

But they do make it, and Hyukjae laces his fingers with Donghae’s, and sometimes he doesn’t have nightmares and sometimes Donghae can sleep without talking half the night away first. Donghae’s touch feels no longer like a harsh winter, but more like a gentle breeze.  

 

If a friendship starts with a bow, does it end with a salute?

 

Hyukjae doesn’t protest as much as expected when Donghae announces his enlistment date. Hell, he doesn’t even protest as much as the other members do.

 

“So you’re okay with this?” Donghae asks uncertainly. Hyukjae’s sometimes quiet about his feelings, and who knows that better than Donghae does? It just feels strange that for once, those feelings are kept hidden away from even Donghae.

 

Hyukjae shrugs and grins up at him. “It’s not really up to me to decide what you do, right? Besides, I know you chose that date only because you don’t wanna be away from me for too long.” Hyukjae’s voice has a joking edge to it. Donghae laughs and rolls his eyes. When did this guy get so arrogant?

 

The days leading up to enlistment are strange. They’re going to be apart for so long, but while they’re still together it doesn’t feel quite like friendship. Hyukjae desperately chases the words “business partners” out of his mind.

 

“Winter love”, the song is called. It’s sure to bring the fans to tears. Hyukjae sings and raps his heart out in the recording studio and doesn’t feel a thing. The distance between him and his best friend grows, as if Donghae was taking steps away from him already.

 

They get drunk that night, the first time in months. The feeling of insobriety is the same every time, and Hyukjae thinks at least that’s one constant in his life. Donghae chugs a huge mug of beer and surprisingly doesn’t gag. Hyukjae wants to say a hundred different things, so he settles on one and his drunken lips slur out what vaguely sounds like “I’ll miss you”.

 

Donghae is in tears for some reason and rambles about their trainee days. A half asleep Hyukjae joins in on the reminiscing, recalling their past with slurred words and barely open eyes. It’s good to remember, because when the hazy screens of the past, of their debut stage and their first concert and their first tour and so many firsts, float through their minds, they forget the present. Hyukjae swears he could live like that for a while, slobbering on his best friend’s shirt and blissfully drunk.

 

Enlistment arrives suddenly, just like all bad things do. Salute! (good bye best friend)

 

When they’re especially lucky, they get breaks on the same day. Hyukjae takes Donghae’s warm hands and drag him off to karaoke without the other members.

 

Donghae hasn’t changed as far as Hyukjae can tell, because when Hyukjae passes him a bottle of water, it still gets rammed into Donghae’s mouth without being opened. Honestly.

 

They choose one of their songs (they miss performing, sue them) to sing. If they close their eyes they can pretend they’re on a stage and convert the whooshing of the air conditioner to the screaming of fans.

 

If a friendship starts with a bow, how does it end?

 

Does it have to end? Hyukjae thinks they’ll be perfectly fine like this, eyes wide and full of wonder, shining under the brilliant stage lights, kings and commanders of the stage that they built from the ground up, squeezing tight against the other’s sweaty palms, and together.