Epilogue: Leave a Light On

The Early Bird is a small bakery off Red Lion Street in Holborn, London.

It is small – only two tables and about as wide as a broom closet – and not very pretty, unlike more established bakeries. Mostly, it caters to a crowd of students and construction workers; they drop by at breakfast and in the afternoons to pick up pasties, freshly baked pies and the odd crumble or two.

Kibum had first chanced upon the place on a late winter evening.

~

His day had been a disaster. At class in the morning, the lecturer had failed him on an assignment – he had been the only student in the class of nine to fail – and told him, more or less, that he was wasting his money on the course. At work in the student union shop that afternoon, he’d knocked over the coffee machine and caused a huge mess, and then he had to deal with a student who asked him to recommend a bar of chocolate and then picked a fight with him when he pointed her in the direction of the Cadbury Freddos instead of the insanely overpriced Fairtrade bars.

All he wants is to go home, but the cold and quiet flat waiting for him is not home. Heating is expensive, and he can only afford to have the heater on after 10 if he intends to be warm enough to sleep through the night. Comme des and Garcons are with his parents in Daegu – he’d sent them back when he realised that he couldn’t afford to keep the heating on all day long – and his empty flat is a constant reminder of their absence. His network of friends is still sparse; he can’t just turn up on someone’s doorstep unannounced and expect them to take him in.

He’s lamenting his fate when something catches his attention; the scent of baking bread.

Kibum looks to the right and sees a tiny little shop. Peering through its dirty windows, he sees counters full of pastries bathed in a warm yellow glow.

If he buys himself a pastry, he won’t have enough money to pay for the bus fare tomorrow. Kibum knows that he’ll be miserable if he has to trudge through the snow to uni tomorrow morning, but he can’t bring himself to walk away. He buys himself a strawberry and rhubarb crumble and sits at the small round table by the window bearing the faded remains of the bakery’s name – the glass has become opaque with age – to rest his tired feet and to lose himself in his thoughts.

Someone puts a mug of hot chocolate on the table. Kibum looks up to see a young-ish woman, with light blonde hair and kind eyes – he will learn later that her name is Edith, and that she helps her mother run the bakery – smiling down at him.

“I didn’t order this,” he says; there aren’t any other people sitting here, so she couldn’t have mixed his order up with someone else. Had he made a mistake again, and ordered himself a set or something? He can’t afford both the crumble and a drink.

“It’s on the house, dear,” she replies. “You look like you need it.”

~

That was three years ago.

Nowadays, Kibum thinks nothing of dropping by The Early Bird just moments after Edith opens the place to ask her to make him a stack of her ricotta pancakes. They’re not on the menu – not that The Early Bird has much of a menu beyond what patrons can buy from the counter and coffee with or without milk and sugar – but Edith has a tendency to spoil her regulars.

“I’ve got a whole stack of these welsh cakes to sugar, and they’re not going to arrange themselves on the counter!”

“I’ll help you with that,” Kibum answers. “Pretty please? I’ve got a long day ahead and your pancakes are like my good luck charm.”

Edith’s lips quirk up in a smile before she scoffs. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Kimmy.”

He knows he’s won already. “Pretty please…” he wheedles, batting his eyelashes at her; aegyo is so effective on a population that isn’t constantly exposed to it on the media.

“Oh, fine.” She s a sifter of icing sugar into his hands. “Just lightly dust them with that, and be careful you don’t get any on that lovely suit of yours. And if anyone comes in-”

“I know, make sure they don’t pinch anything, and the price list is under the till.”

It’s still too early in the morning for the student crowd to be up, so the only customer Kibum has to deal with is one of Edith’s other regulars; a parking attendant who buys a chicken tikka pasty and pays him in exact change.

The scent of freshly made pancakes precedes Edith’s re-entrance to the bakery, and Kibum takes his place at the small table by the window. She sets the plate of pancakes and a single-serve jar of raspberry preserves down in front of him, and when she realises that the bakery is quiet for now, she joins him.

“What’s so special about today that you’re darkening my doorstep before the sun has come up?”

“I’m off to Ysandralaig,” Kibum says, pronouncing each syllable of the name; it’s been three years, but he still gets stumped by the pronunciation of names sometimes. “They want me there before nine.”

“That’s posh.”

“I know,” Kibum can’t resist blowing his own trumpet a little. “And they’re letting me handle this one by myself.”

“Well, look at you,” Edith says. “Moving up in the world and all. Soon you’ll be picking curtains and table linen for the Queen.”

Kibum laughs.

~

Not a month into his new course, Kibum had realised that, despite all his complaints about not being given enough freedom to style SHINee for their comebacks, SM had given him a lot of leeway simply because he was an idol in their company. They had, at least, listened to his suggestions before rejecting them.

His first assignment on the different types of fabrics and their uses had been returned with ‘please check your grammar and spelling next time’ scrawled on top in red ink, alongside a large F. With each assignment had come more disappointment; his lecturers found his designs ‘too busy’ or ‘too careless’, he ‘lacked vision’ and unlike his coursemates, Kibum hadn’t mastered sewing, knitting and lacemaking before signing up.

Still, he had kept his chin up and soldiered on, determined to prove them all wrong the same way he proved everyone who thought he’d never make it as an idol wrong.

The final blow had come when the students were assigned month-long apprenticeships with established British designers at the end of their first year. Kibum had worked his fingers to the bone on the qualifying assignment; he drew and edited and redrew his designs until he had every detail right, and he waited for someone – a designer who had never met him couldn’t be filled with disdain the way his lecturers seemed to be – to recognise his talent.

He had been one of out of the only two students not to be offered an apprenticeship. On the day the news had been announced, and the rest of the class had celebrated by going down to the pub for tequila shots, Kibum had gone back to his flat, curled up in his bed and cried his heart out.

Two days later, the lecturer he had hated so much called him in for a meeting, and informed him that she had managed to get him an apprenticeship with Carol Pasco of Pascoe Interiors.

And that was how Kibum discovered his latent talent for interior design.

~

“So,” Edith says in that tone of hers that lets Kibum know that he’s about to be cross-examined like a CEO on trial for corporate fraud “How’s Paolo? Why hasn’t he dropped by for croissants in ages?”

Paolo is his latest boyfriend – or was, at any rate – and Edith had loved him at first sight, unlike James, Paolo’s predecessor. Kibum shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Edith’s expression softens. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles at her. “Don’t worry, I’m not heartbroken. I mean, the was great, but it’s not like I was in love with him.”

That makes her curious once more, and Kibum only realises his mistake when she leans in again. “You know, if you tell me the type of person you fall for, I can help find you a date. Do you know how many people walk through these doors every day?”

“Not enough to make you give a about cleaning the windows.” Kibum shovels a forkful of pancakes and jam into his mouth, and waves the now empty fork at the stained window.

But Edith cannot be deterred from her line of questioning. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been in love?”

And there, she has him trapped. “Of course I have.”

“So, what was he like?”

Memories, bits and pieces of them, flash by in Kibum’s mind; of a boy waiting for him at the railway station, of quiet songs sung in the privacy of their room, of longing glances across a stage. “He… he was a star.”

“Rain?”

He had once mentioned to Edith that he’d been in a band in Korea, a part of the Kpop Hallyu wave. The only kpop artist she’d been able to name was Rain, and for some reason, Kibum still hasn’t been able to tell her about SHINee. She doesn’t really believe him, thinks that he was in a small college band or something, but he doesn’t mind. He hasn’t been SHINee’s Almighty Key in a long time now, and he has no desire to wear that personality again.

“No, not Rain. He’s married. I don’t think I’ve even spoken to him. Nah, he was… a part of the same agency as me.” When Edith doesn’t have anything to say to that, Kibum continues speaking. “You know how you say some people are born to be on stage? He was like that. You looked at him and just knew that he was something special. He could sing, dance, write, compose. And he was kind, too. He put so much of himself in everything, he probably still does. I loved him so much.”

“What happened?”

Kibum shrugs. “I wanted more from him than he was willing to give. He loved me, but he loved other people, other things too. He wouldn’t give them up for me, and he wouldn’t give me up for them.”

Edith looks like she wants to say something, but a whole gaggle of schoolchildren come through the door and she excuses herself to deal with them.

~~~

Minho is the first one to be re-introduced to the Korean public after their disbandment, packaged as SM’s new movie and drama actor. He’s given a lead role in some high-budget, high-profile cop flick, and Kibum is ecstatic when he finds a small indie cinema that’s playing the movie. Money is tight, but Kibum skips lunch for two days to be able to afford the ridiculously expensive ticket because he misses Minho so much.

Conscious of being recognised, Kibum wears a hoodie to the movie. He needn’t have bothered; the only other people in attendance are a British Korean family – the teenage children clearly kicking a silent fuss at having been dragged here by their parents – and a group of five elderly people. No one gives him a second glance.

However, Jonghyun is the first of them to truly go solo.

Jonghyun’s solo album of self-composed songs is released in autumn the year after SHINee’s disbandment. Kibum is so overwhelmed with his course and living on his own that he completely misses it until a package arrives at his flat and he opens it to find an autographed copy of a yet-to-be-released album. For a moment, Kibum stands frozen at the threshold, staring at Jonghyun’s half-smile on the cover of his album. He looks good; he looks so good, with his thick hair dyed dark blue-grey and his roguish smile dimpling his cheeks. Kibum looks at him and sees the boy who caught his attention in SM’s practice room all those years ago; sees the man he’s grown into, sees the star Kibum has always known he would be.

The first song on his album is called Deja-Boo. Typical Jonghyun and his love for wordplay.

It’s the first song on the album, so he should have listened to it first, but Kibum decides to play the last track first. He doesn’t know why. Perhaps it’s the way it’s the only song on the album titled in Korean letters instead of English. Perhaps it’s because Kibum likes being contrary.

Whatever the reason, Kibum listens to Better Off first.

He knows, even before the first chorus ends, that Jjong wrote the song for him. Call him delusional, tell him he hasn’t moved on, Kibum thinks, but he just knows. How can he not, when he’s had countless songs composed and sung for his ears alone? How can he not, having grown up to the sound of Jonghyun’s voice singing feelings to him that he would never be able to express otherwise?

Leave me and go so we can both peacefully rest, Jonghyun sings, and Kibum knows that that lines was written just for him.

I have moved halfway across the world, Kibum wants to say, to get away from you and the things we did to each other. From the heartbreak we inflicted on each other. I have left you, he wants to say.

But where is his peace? Where is his rest?

Kibum lets himself cry in the vast emptiness of his flat. He left them all in search of a new life, and yet, here he is, miserable and alone and barely able to feed himself, whilst Jonghyun is now a solo artist with an entire album of self-written, self-composed songs.

Leave me and go, the lyrics say, but it feels like Kibum is the one being left behind.

~~~

Kibum finishes his pancakes off and leaves. As he drives down the M4 towards Cardiff, Kibum pops Jonghyun’s latest album into the company car’s CD player, and makes a mental reminder not to forget to retrieve the CD when he returns the car later on.

~~~

“I’m on my way in,” Kibum replies, keeping his phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder as he taps his Oyster card on the way out of the bus. “Want anything?”

“You know I’m on a diet,” Carol sighs. “Share a cinnamon roll with me?”

“Sure.” Kibum ends the call and walks into The Early Bird. Edith is at the counter, packing some pastries away for a woman in a grey suit. Kibum takes a moment to admire the sharp cut of her suit before going up to the counter himself with a couple of cinnamon rolls.

“Do you have a couple of minutes to spare?” Edith asks.

“Sure.” Kibum wonders why Edith is asking him this, but he stops worrying when she reaches under the counter and pulls out a baking tray with some fluffy golden buns. She puts one on a plate and hands it to him. “Sit down and I’ll bring you some coffee, and then you can tell me what you think.”

Kibum does as he’s told. It's not the first time that's played the role of Edith's lab rat in the five years that they've known each other. Edith brings two mugs out and joins him. “It’s a new recipe I’m working on. Coffee buns. Can you taste the coffee? Is it too strong?”

“It’s pretty good, but I don’t know how popular this sort of thing will be. It’s kind of…” Kibum takes a minute to search for an appropriate description “…plain? Like, I can taste the coffee, but it’s still bread.”

“What if I filled it with something?”

“Like what?”

Edith shrugs. “I’m still working on that. Anyway, how have you been? Seeing anyone?”

Kibum laughs. “I just broke up with Dean like two months ago. I'm not looking for anything new at the moment. Trust me, if anything changes, you’ll be the first to know.”

“You know, my offer to set you up still stands.” Edith winks at him. “Do we want someone tall dark and handsome? Or do you only date Korean pop stars?”

That makes Kibum laugh again. “It was just one guy.”

“Then tell me more about the other guys. Give me something to work with, Kimmy!”

“Well, the second person I fell in love with was a model.”

“ off.” Edith leans back in her seat, clearly disbelieving, but when Kibum doesn’t say anything more she swears again. “What, for real? A model?”

Kibum smiles, remembering the time he saw Seop walk down the catwalk at Seoul Fashion Week. It seems like a lifetime ago. He can still feel in his cheeks how widely he smiled when Seop stole a glance at him. “Yes.”

“You are so full of surprises. What was he like?”

“Gentle.” Looking back, the thing Kibum remembers most fondly about Seop was the aura of calmess he brought into Kibum’s life. If his relationship with Jjong was a trainwreck, then his and Seop’s is best compared to a bike ride on a Sunday morning. It was so mature, the way they both agreed to keep their relationship as quiet as possible, and neither of them had caused any amount of fuss over it. “Mature. But he wasn’t boring, he was… stable? We used to go shopping together a lot. And he liked to cook for me.”

“He sounds like a great guy.”

“He was.” Knowing what Edith wants to ask next, Kibum beats her to the question. “We broke up for stupid reasons. He thought I cheated on him and I was too full of pride to explain that I didn’t.”

Edith gives him a sad smile.

~~~

Of all the members, the only person Kibum stays in somewhat regular contact with is Jonghyun. He and Minho shared a closeness that came with proximity, but tossed apart in different countries, that closeness ebbs away to fond memories and the odd birthday wish. Taemin had texted him a lot during his first year here, but those texts had dried up to silence once Taemin’s solo career had kicked off. Kibum doesn’t blame him; he knows what Taemin is like.

~

Taemin keeps his promise to deliver signed copies of his albums to Kibum. He’d delivered the first one together with all sorts of merchandise – posters, concert lightsticks, t-shirts and candles – and Kibum had a good few hours of happiness unwrapping each item. Taemin had called later that day and asked what Kibum thought of the album, and Kibum had very honestly told him that he was impressed beyond words. What Kibum never told Taemin was how spectacularly jealous he was; Taemin is beautiful and rich and talented, all things which Kibum is not.

If Jjong’s album is successful, Taemin’s is sensational. Kibum hears his song, Danger, playing all the time in Chinatown; he can only imagine how popular Taemin must be in Korea.

Not a year later, Taemin releases a full-length album. And then a Japanese one. And then there’d been concert dates. Kibum dutifully listens to the albums that Taemin dutifully sends, but once he drops his course and starts working with Carol for good, Kibum doesn’t have the time to keep up with the developments of Taemin’s career and, after Taemin’s first dating scandal, Kibum stops feeling bad about it.

The scandal is an unusual one. Typical of SHINee, Kibum thinks, when he sees the headlines. Dispatch had caught Jjong and Taemin on a double-date with Minkyung and her bandmate, Lee Haeri. SM confirms the relationship between Jjong and Minkyung within the hour. Kibum first thought that they had asked Taemin and Haeri to come with them to disguise the fact that they were on a date, but a day later, SM also confirms that Taemin and Haeri are dating.

Despite telling himself that he’s moved on, Kibum does feel somewhat dazed by the news. He cannot quite imagine Taemin being in love with someone else. Suspecting that it might be a ploy by SM, he sends a message to Taemin asking whether it is true. Taemin responds shortly after, saying that he had come to like Haeri after accompanying Jjong to a Davichi concert and hanging out with her backstage. He also says that it has been a long time since he’s liked someone the way he likes her.

It was then that Kibum stopped keeping in touch with Taemin. Taemin had well and truly moved on, and he figured that it was about time that he did so too.

~

Apart from the occasional package bearing a new album, Kibum gets all of his updates about Taemin from Jjong. Despite being busy with his own career, Jjong still finds the time to keep an eye on Taemin, so much so that the fans joke that Jjong is Taemin’s ultimate fandom master. Kibum is glad for that; knowing Taemin and his propensity to overwork himself, and how the rookie managers are too in awe of him to contradict him, it is a good thing that Jjong has made Taemin’s well-being one of his concerns.

So it is nothing new when Kibum wakes up one chilly October morning to see a message from Jjong directing him to some youtube video of one of Taemin’s performances. No, what is new is the caption that accompanies it.

“This is Taemin’s last scheduled performance before his contract expires. Given that he’s not signed a renewal yet, it might well be his last.”

Has so much time really flown by? Thinking back, Kibum finds that it does feel like the days he spent struggling to get by, lying to his parents over Skype that everything was going well and questioning the wisdom of his choices took place a lifetime ago.

Comme des and Garcons snuffle at his feet, and he turns his attention to them. He’d brought them back with him after Carol offered him a permanent position as her assistant. He wonders whether they remember Taemin.

“Do you remember Taemin-hyung?” he asks. Garcon’s ears perk, but a second later the neighbour’s doorbell rings so Kibum isn’t sure whether Garcon was reacting to Taemin’s name or to the stranger in the hallway. He gives them each a treat, pours himself a cup of coffee and wanders into the living room to watch Taemin’s-possibly-last-performance.

The video Jjong has directed him to must be the tail-end of a concert or performance, because Taemin’s shirt is sheer with sweat as he takes his place behind a piano.

The song is a simple ballad, but Taemin’s light and airy vocals suit it beautifully. When he hits the final verse, Taemin lifts his head up from the piano and looks into the camera, and Kibum loses his breath. It feels like Taemin is looking at him, through the camera, through the screen, as if he’s right in front of him even though they don’t even share the same time and space.

I’m calling out your name

Singing it out into the night sky

With a voice that only you can hear, I’ll quietly call out

There are so many things I wanted to say

A lot of time has passed

But I missed you

So I’ll just smile and say hello

It is only when the video fades to black that Kibum can breathe again.

As he dresses for work, Kibum is haunted by Taemin’s voice, by the sincerity in his eyes. He tells himself not to be silly, that he’s not a fangirl to be fooled by the direct gaze of an idol. There’s nothing in it, no secret message, nothing. Hasn’t Kibum himself stood on the very same stage and sent that very same gaze into the camera?

As he rides the bus to work, Kibum looks out of the window and sees the streets he’s come to call home. Things may not have turned out the way he planned, but he wouldn’t have chosen any other life for himself.

His phone buzzes. Kibum pulls it out and, for the second time that day, loses his breath. Taemin has sent him a message.

I’ll be in London for a short holiday. Can I crash with you for a few days?

~~~

a/n: hello everyone! i'm back! i've decided to write a little bit about kibum's life after he leaves etc. this will be a multi-chaptered story, but a short one (perhaps 3 or 4 at the most). i can't update regularly because work is hectic, but this fic is something that i want to complete before the end of the year. cheerio!