It had been a magical spell, that’s all it was. He should’ve known that it was too good to be true. He is convinced that their fairy tale has ended - the clock has struck twelve, and his princess runs away dressed in rags. She is still beautiful, he tells himself, but alas, the spell has broken.

He hates his new life. He is utterly disgusted at himself for willing himself to believe in the marvelousness of stardom, blinded from the dark ugly truth by the headache-inducing stage lights. He despises the life of exhaustion, the endless schedules, and the brutality of the industry.

Fifth take, the music show producer nags them as the group drags themselves on stage once again with bucket-loads of sweat pouring down their temples. And it’s not like the view is that great from on stage, either. He sees the top of fans’ heads, screaming teenage girls holding up flashy signs and banners. Don’t they have anything better to do in their lives besides obsessing over us? Jongin thinks. He laughs bitterly, knowing how ironic this is because that’s one of the main reasons “idols” keep doing what they do: the fans.

Even after all his hard work, he realizes that it’s all in vain - he will not be able to rise up that far anyway. The road to stardom is long and strenuous, but stardom itself is a lackluster endless cycle of pain. It’s true when they say a star doesn’t look as great up close than far away in the distant sky. For this reason, he pities the delusional fans; they will be disappointed once they find out that he is really just mediocre, a mess of fire and chemicals blazing pathetically in the huge universe.

He realizes now that he has no direction in life, contrary to popular belief - just simply going with the flow because he isn’t strong enough to pave a way for himself. The company sticks him front and center, giving him an “exotic”-sounding stage name. He is still not used to saying, “Hello, I am Exo-K’s dancing machine, Kai.” He feels so shallow, so... not himself.

He used to tell himself that it was all going to be worth it. I did this all for Soojung, remember? It was the emotion of love that led him ultimately to this path. He had wanted this dream before, but his heart was what finally got him here. And now that he’s here, that’s it? I came all the way here for this?

 

Knowing that he loves Soojung, he doesn’t mean to push her away.

“You’re giving me the cold shoulder again,” she would say with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

For a second, his heart would splinter at injuring her, but his suppressed emotions of doubt, disgust, and exhaustion would take over and turn him into a raging beast. “Go away, won’t you?!” He would explode at her, leaving her bewildered and hurt.

 

One day at the dorm, Kyungsoo quietly taps him on the shoulder. “Jongin-ah, are you okay?”

Jongin shoves his hand away and scowls at the ground. Stop pretending you care about me.

Kyungsoo stares at him helplessly, as if reading his mind. “You know, it’s not that easy for the rest of us either...” His voice falters at Jongin’s menacing glare.

 

“Soojung-ah! Come out, please!” Victoria pleads from outside the bathroom door. “Open up! Let me in!”

She is greeted by the sounds of broken sobs, and Victoria could just feel the raw pain seeping out of the poor girl’s heart. She’s too young to be this hurt... the leader sighs. And there’s nothing I can do about it; I am powerless, after all.

So Victoria reverts to her own self, the weak and vulnerable Song Qian, because she feels that she is a failure as a so-called leader.

 

There are days when he regrets loving Soojung. He would be stupid to not see the way that she is broken. He only wishes that when he fell off the cliff, he wasn’t so idiotic to pull her along with him. But too late. They’re falling...

The arguments are getting worse. Both are out of their senses, pummeling each other with insults and maledictions. “Why don’t you love me anymore?!” she screeches.

“Do you think I ever did? Because I didn’t.” Liar.

“I can’t believe you were pretending the whole time!” her voice cracks in anguish.

He smirks, his eyes wild with fire. “I always knew I was the better actor out of the two of us.”

At this, she charges at him, punching his chest ceaselessly and giving slap after slap on his already-red face. Jongin is oddly invigorated with being the object of her physical abuse - ah, the gentle Soojung turned into a crazy maniac, and in the midst of his delirium, he is strangely proud of being the only one who can make her like this.

Suddenly, Jongin’s derangement is chastened by her constant afflictions, and he pulls her in aggressively for a suffocating hug. She struggles in his grip, saying, “Let me go!” but eventually melts into his arms; his embrace has always been her weak point, even if it is under these circumstances.

The fiery atmosphere from before dies down until it is silent except for their harsh breathing.

Jongin figures that if they’re both falling off the cliff, he had better hold on to her tightly.

 

“You seriously need to get more sleep...” Victoria murmurs softly to Soojung, who falls asleep in the manager’s van on the way to a filming. She sighs. “Enjoy your nap.”

Soojung smiles in her sleep, but it’s a twisted, anguished smile. Her eye bags are painfully noticeable, and she undergoes occasional fits in which she whispers an incoherent something in urgency and fear. Victoria widens her eyes, rubbing the maknae’s back gently to calm her down. I wonder what she is dreaming of...

She is running. Running away from him, for he has turned into some unrecognizable monster hungry for her blood. She faintly remembers that she used to love this young man, but now all she knows is fear. Running, gasping for air, suffocating, legs are about to give way...

She screeches to a halt, feet teetering precariously over a rocky plateau, revealing a dark abyss before her. Her heart rate speeding up out of control, she frantically glances around for any other avenue of escape as she hears its thundering footsteps come nearer. She sees a clump of bushes at the far right, and hoping that there is some hidden way behind there, she uses her tired legs to sprint over.

But it is too late. Jongin, lunatic Jongin, has swept her off her feet (not in the good way); his yells are barbaric and crass. She braves a look at his face, and registering the wild hysteria in his eyes, she screams as she feels herself being carried with him toward the abyss...

And he jumps - whatever made him do that, she doesn’t know. All she knows now is absolute horror, as they plummet down together, descending into the darkness of unknowns.

She wakes up to the worried chatter of her group mates, with cold sweat dripping from her forehead. Her heart is still beating, and she can feel the fear coursing through her veins. She tries to collect herself. “It was nothing,” she says nonchalantly when they question her.

 

That night, she grabs a pair of sharp scissors and the beloved sweater from her closet. The dim lighting in the bedroom gives a sense of hopelessness yet power as she dexterously snips at the thick fabric, each tearing sound bestowing a feeling of satisfaction and cruel accomplishment on her behalf. She shields herself from the emotional pain of doing this act, but unbeknownst to her, tears start falling silently down her porcelain cheeks.

The truth hits her. She doesn’t know him anymore. He’s unrecognizable. He's absolutely crazy.

And she is utterly afraid. She would rather fall off the cliff without being in his grasp than to be in the hands of a stranger. So she tries to tear herself away from him, step one being the destruction of memories.

 

Jongin chances a look at the mirror as he walks by. He is already used to the swollen eye bags and the tired expression that seems permanently etched on his face. He feels like punching the mirror to destroy all evidence of his ugliness - not only on the outside, but on the inside. But he doesn’t because he realizes that destroying one mirror really doesn’t erase the failure that he is; he is merely wrecking an avenue for seeing his shortcomings. On second thought, he knows that he doesn’t even need a mirror to reveal his flaws; he already knows them, and so does everyone else - even her.

He winces because she is still so important to him. He just doesn’t know how to express it anymore. At this rate, she wouldn’t even care even if he did say something uplifting and saccharine sweet. He gives up all hope like the coward that he is, and he doesn’t even try to fight it. A failure, indeed.

 

The sensation of free-falling down, down, down... it’s like a roller coaster; the feeling in the pit of his stomach is squirmy and restless. He squeezes his eyes shut to ignore all the fear that he is feeling, and he concentrates so hard on ignoring his own emotions that he doesn’t feel her wrenching away from his tight grip. Perhaps he had unconsciously given her permission to leave - he knows that he isn’t strong enough to protect her anyway. She is better off by herself.

 

Song Qian cries aloud when she sees remnants of Soojung and Jongin’s special sweater in the trashcan. Soojung passes by nonchalantly, reminding herself that the next time she does something like this, she should throw it away in the big dumpster by herself so that no one sees.

 

She finds this situation strangely exhilarating, and she actually enjoys this newfound freedom. They are not officially broken off, but it’s not like they’re all lovey-dovey anymore.

And she decides that she is okay with it.

Soojung likes roller coasters.

 

She immerses herself in work: variety shows, album promotions, endless practicing. The exhaustion is virtually gone, replaced with a sense of vigor and empowerment. She steels herself against his pensive stares, and airily goes about her life: independent, unconstrained, and fulfilled.

One can only fool oneself for so long.

 

Walking in a blissful daze (or so she thinks) has its side effects. One exists under the premise that everything is just fine, too perfect, in fact. Behind the facade of perfection, unrest stirs within her subconscious being, and yet her mind is totally unaware.

It only truly hits her when one night she finds herself at some unknown bar, downing shots of countless drinks, many of which she did not know the name of, and she gets lost in her hazy thoughts. It is ironic that she finds realizations amidst a distorted consciousness, but at this point, she does not find anything surprising at all.

A gut feeling of something-is-really-wrong spurs her to walk shakily out of the bar, drowning out the calls of the bartender and the loud booming music. Once outside, she walks like a zombie, stumbling to and fro, ignoring the apprehensive stares of whoever is out this late at night.

She knocks hesitantly, then slumps down to the floor. The door creaks open, and Suho gasps, whispering, “Soojung, are you okay?” but she doesn’t answer. Her eyes flutter open, but they are empty. A sleepy Chanyeol staggers into sight, and incoherent mutters fill the dark room. Soojung feels herself being dragged inside; she cannot even smell the alcohol of which she reeks.

The manager comes out of a room, still in his pajamas like they all are, and just waves her in, too lazy to deal with the matter at such a time at night. Soojung sighs as she gets pulled along and dumped into his bedroom, and her eyes snap open because she is suddenly wide awake.

She finds herself on his twin-sized bed, the sheets all messy and tangled, everything all hot and uncomfortable. Soojung’s hand accidentally brushes against his sweaty locks of hair, her eyes adjusting to the gray darkness as she begins to make out the contours of his face. The expression on his face looks bothered, as if he has a fever. Her lips unconsciously turn into a frown, thoughts of worry starting to surface. This surprises her because she’s not supposed to feel this way. She’s free, she’s happy, she’s independent...

Jongin mumbles something in his sleep. “Soojung-ah...” his voice is anxious. His arms suddenly reach over to wrap themselves around her waist, pulling her down with him. She gasps.

“Soojung...” he murmurs again.

She unknowingly tears up, curling up into his embrace. His chest heaves with every breath, and she listens to his erratic heartbeat. What are you thinking of, exactly? she wonders to herself. She feels a headache coming to her again, so she drowns herself in her old comforts: his strong arms, his broad chest, his wide shoulders, his warm blankets...all things that she thought she had weaned herself from. It feels like home. She supposes that one night can’t hurt.

She drifts off to sleep to the sound of Jongin repeating her name over and over again. Soojung, Soojung, Soojung...

 

Waking up to the sound of a lone bird chirping hesitantly into the dawn sky, she gasps upon seeing her whereabouts, not daring to move an inch. She peers cautiously at his face, distant memories of what had happened coming to mind. He looks peaceful now, with the dim sunlight shining like a spotlight on his features. Carefully, she eases herself out of his grip, making sure to straighten up the sheets a little as she leaves. “Bye,” she whispers.

She tiptoes out of his room, out of the dorm, and out of the building. She figures that she should get back to her own dorm or else she would be in big trouble. At first, she puts up a wall between herself and her emotions, willing herself to be calloused and unfeeling, but to no avail. Once she is back in the shelter of her own room, she cries. Conflicting emotions bubble out of her being: the anger of finding out that she really does need him, the relief of being back in his embrace, the sadness of her helplessness and vulnerability, the pain of all that she has had to endure up to this point. She wraps herself in her own bed comforter, endless rivers of tears streaming down her cheeks. Thank goodness that today is a free day, she thinks to herself. She immerses herself in memories: of him, of her, of them. It is a painful movie to watch, but she allows herself to feel the agony. It is the only way to know if all of this is even real.

 

Later, she writes in her journal over and over again: Life . Life . Life . Life .

Then, in tiny cursive scrawl on the bottom of the page: without you, Kim Jongin.

Furthermore, in parentheses right underneath: (you’re a stupid drug. damn you.)

 

When she appears in the living room at noon with puffed eye bags and disheveled hair, Victoria gasps, automatically asking, “What’s wrong?”

Soojung only smiles. Contrary to whatever Jongin may think, she may be a better actress than previously thought.

 

To the rest of the world, she can act whatever facade she wants to. To herself, well - there’s no use lying to herself. She finds herself going back to his dorm the next night. The Exo manager simply looks at her and sighs when he notices her exhaustion and sorrow. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters. “This life can’t be perfect for you kids, sadly.” She nods in heavy agreement and walks into Jongin’s room.

She climbs in with him, reveling in his warmth. “You’re a drug, you know that right?” she says into his ear. He twitches a little. “You’re absolutely dangerous,” she continues. “What am I supposed to do?” And she swears she sees him smirking in his slumber.

A few hours later, in the dark of the night, Soojung is fast asleep. Jongin stirs awake, surprised to find another figure with him. His hands reach for her palms, and his fingers trace every line and crevice.  Soojung, he recognizes.He looks at her face, her lips slightly quivering, her eyes lidded shut. “Now how in the world did you get here?” he asks into the night.

It is simply a rhetorical question, for there is no time for soliciting answers; in his mind, all that matters is that she is back. Thoughts of overwhelming regret and love surface in his head, a sad smile forming on his lips. His arms bring her closer to him, his face nuzzled in the nape of her neck. I’ve missed you, silly girl. “You will be the end of me, Jung Soojung,” he breathes in between butterfly kisses. “I don’t understand you, seriously.” A myriad of apologies threatens to spill, and he lets it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive me...please, please, please...”

She is half-awake now, listening to his anguished cries, his hot breaths sending chills up her spine.

“You’re a puzzle, Soojung-ah. And I am going to solve it, just you wait and see.”

Yeah? she thinks. Well, I hope you do, because I don’t quite understand myself either.

“You’re absolutely amazing, do you know that? I just can’t...get enough of you,” he sounds like he’s crying.

Her eyes are still closed, feigning sleep.

“You’re an addiction that I can’t break.”

I hope those aren't just empty words.

“These aren’t just empty words...you see, I... I love you, Soojung-ah, I really do...”

She lets out a whimper. R-really?

His breath catches in his throat. “A-are you awake, Soojung? I’ll say it until you wake up. I love you, I love you, I love -”

“I love you, too,” she whispers quietly, blinking tears out of her eyes. She turns her body to face him.

Jongin smiles at the confession. “Yeah? You do?”

She nods, pressing her face into his shirt. She sobs silently, this time not because of pain, but because of joy - unexplainable joy. His kind hands caress her back, tracing circles and triangles and flowers and hearts.

“I missed you,” he says.

“Me too.”

“You’re absolutely crazy.”

“I know.”

“Oh well.”

“I destroyed the sweater though.”

He gasps. “Crazy, indeed.”

 

The night slowly fades into day, and the two lost souls slowly climb out of the ditch. Jongin believes that although life may not be a perfect fairytale, happy endings are still a possibility. But what is a happy ending without trials and tribulations leading up to it? How can one know the meaning of true joy without first knowing the meaning of true suffering? Soojung had run away in rags, destroyed and broken. She had come back in rags, too, but Jongin thinks that rags are honestly quite attractive. There was no glass slipper involved, although maybe their stage outfits might count. They already have enough of all the glitz and glamor anyway. Sometimes it’s nice to just be plain Soojung and Jongin, both still kids, both still small. It’s okay to get lost sometimes, to perhaps lose their footing - as long as they return to each other, like how a parachute saves one from crash-landing off a cliff.

But for now, for this moment in time, things are perfect.

 

Author's Note: sorry for the long delay...to be honest, I'm not very satisfied with this sequel, but hopefully you guys like it! (/nudge: possible bonus chapter(s) up ahead! So subscribe if you want to be notified~)