Krystal Comes Over

(Following Ch 25; Late April 2016)

Kyungsoo is silent on the ride from the movie studio’s office back to the dorm. He was at his script reading today for With God, and he knows it. The director brought in the acting hopefuls for the remaining roles in the huge ensemble cast and requested the already-cast members to come do test reads with the finalists. Kyungsoo had, of course, jumped at the chance. Anything to keep busy. Anything to stay out of the dorm, to avoid him.

But his character was supposed to be innocent and even peppy in today’s readings and Kyungsoo… well… is not right now. Or ever, lately, if he’s being honest with himself. He sighs.

“Jaehyuk-hyung,” he calls wearily to the manager driving him home.

“Mmm?”

“I need to work on being cute,” he grumbles.

Jaehyuk snickers. “I think the fans find you plenty cute, Kyungsoo, don’t worry.”

“No,” the singer replies flatly, unamused. “I mean for my acting. Find me a project with a light-hearted role. Where I’m supposed to be goofy or something, rather than tragic.” Kyungsoo stares lifelessly out the window, face smushed against his fist as he observes the dreary April showers outside.

“You’re already overbooked as it is,” the manager replies softly. “And that’s not exactly the kind of role people have in mind for you when they request you for casting. So… I’ll keep an ear out but don’t expect anything too soon.”

“Fine. But I need to branch out eventually. I need to do better,” Kyungsoo says with a note of self-reproach in his voice as he goes to hop out of the van.

“Kyungsoo,” Jaehyuk turns around to make eye contact with him. “Are you okay?”

This again. The manager has attempted this vague ‘check-in’ with him almost daily since April 1. His answer is always the same, though the tone varies from day to day. “Quit asking.” It comes out gruffer than usual today, so Jaehyuk lets it lie.

The manager drops him off in their garage with a worried smile and a small wave before leaving to go pick up Baekhyun from his Moon Lover’s filming. As he rides the elevator up to the dorm, Kyungsoo is looking forward to a quick meal and then a nap. Besides the fact that he’s still not sleeping well at night, a nap is a good excuse to stay out of the common areas and away from you-know-who. ‘I’m so ing pathetic I can’t even bring myself say his name in my own head?’ Kyungsoo snarls at himself. He scrunches his eyes closed in frustration and thunks his head against the elevator wall a few times. It’s been 3 weeks since their last real conversation in that backstage bathroom at Lotte World, and the pain in his chest hasn’t waned in the least. He stops trying to give himself a mild concussion when the elevator doors ding open on the appropriate floor. Huffing out a big sigh, he trudges down the hall.

An unpleasant surprise greets him when he opens the dorm’s front door and toes his shoes off to put them in the foyer’s rack. In his shoes’ usual resting space is a pair of green heels. Women’s shoes. Kyungsoo holds his breath as he turns his head slowly toward the living room. Jongin is on the couch, which is not terribly unexpected, but his companion next to him sure is: Krystal, dressed in a flowy pink top and teeny jean shorts, is curled into his side with her long legs neatly tucked up underneath her. The pair is watching some K-drama on the TV.

“Oh, hi Kyungsoo!” Krystal says in a friendly voice. She starts to rise to her feet to greet him politely, but is stopped by Jongin reaching out in front her body with his arm, hand curling around her hip and gently pulling her back down to the couch before she’s more than a few inches off of it. She turns to give her boyfriend a questioning look.

Jongin doesn’t meet her eyes nor Kyungsoo’s, still watching the TV intently. “You don’t have to worry about standing to greet every person who walks in. It’s just Kyungsoo.”

Looking back at the rack and trying to find a different spot for his now homeless shoes, the singer bites the inside of his cheek to prevent tumultuous emotions from spilling out his mouth. Finding no open spot, he eventually gives up and stuffs the shoes in the bottom corner of the rack. He’ll deal with it later. As he turns their direction, he forces a small smile at the girl along with a small head bow. “Hi Krystal. I hope you’ve been well,” he manages while walking briskly into the kitchen.

‘Just get something to eat and get to your room,’ Kyungsoo commands himself, rifling through the pantry cabinets for some instant ramyun. He fills a metal pot with water and sets it on the stove to boil. As he’s going through the refrigerator to pull out green onions and an egg, Krystal’s lilting laughter floats into the kitchen from the living room.

In between giggles, she lets out a weak “stop it,” and even though he’s not in the same room, Kyungsoo can see Jongin tickling her in his mind’s eye, long fingers skating up and down her sides. The same elegant fingers that used to trail down his chest during the middle of the night as they laid facing each other in Jongin’s bed, stealing a few moments of unguarded touches under the safety of darkness. Those tanned fingers are now roaming along her ch—

“Hey.”

The soft voice makes Kyungsoo jump. He glares at Chanyeol who has just poked his head into the kitchen. “What do you want.”

The giant puts his hands up in surrender. “Not here to make a food request, I promise,” he jokes, backing away slowly with his arms still raised to complete his lame attempt at humor.

Ultimately, Kyungsoo welcomes the distraction, so he gives him a snort of pity laughter. He tosses the instant noodles into the pot and starts to chop the green onions.

“So how was your script read—“ Chanyeol’s inquiry is interrupted by a loud Baekhyun (is there any other kind?) in the other room.

“Aw, you two are cute and all that, but I really don’t need to see this much PDA in my living room,” the vocalist says with an over-the-top groan, teasing the couple.

The knife slips in his hand, and Kyungsoo nicks the tip of his left index finger. Cursing under his breath, he on the wound to staunch the bleeding. He winces at the metallic taste, bitter on his tongue. Angrily, he starts throwing the green onions into the simmering pot one handful at a time with his uninjured hand while still nursing the cut.

“You alright?” Chanyeol asks kindly.

“Just fine,” Kyungsoo grits out.

“Dae and Junmyeon aren’t home, so you can move the make out session to your room, Jongin,” Baek continues from the living room.

In his surprise over the declaration of what’s apparently transpiring on the other side of the partition, Kyungsoo smacks his hand against the side of the boiling pot while trying to toss in the last few onions. He swallows down a yelp of pain as he rushes to the sink to get the edge of his hand under cool running water to ease the burn.

Chanyeol steps up and places a hand on his back, concerned. “Can I do something to help? Take over by the stove for you?”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m actually not hungry anymore.”

“Don’t exaggerate, we were not making out,” Krystal responds, and Kyungsoo can imagine her sticking her tongue out at the instigator. He sighs a little at the relief the cold water provides, the burn mildly soothed.

“Here,” Jongin’s voice follows. “Throw this at him, babe.”

The soft thud of a pillow hitting Baek in the face coincides with the harsh clatter of the metal pot in the sink, as Kyungsoo trashes his would-be lunch. He needs to escape, to shut himself into his room and disappear under the covers, to—

Chanyeol’s hand on his arm prevents him