The first time Jongin saw her was in a hallway. It wasn't much; just a quick glance to the side as she passed in a hurry, her dark hair flying out behind her. She was laughing, he remembers. Her eyes crinkled at the sides, and her giggles were quite contagious. He tried to hide his amused chuckle; he had needed a reason to smile since training was such an exhausting ordeal. It was a mere five seconds, the first time he saw her, and he was already hooked.

But it's not like he would have time to make friends, of course. Trainee companions, yes, but true friends? He liked to think that he was too smart to believe that the idol industry was more than just business acquaintances - everyone always for themselves, and for themselves only. Well, he supposed he could make an exception for his favorite "trainee companion," Taemin, the older boy who also liked to dance. You see, dancing was Jongin's thing. He had no time for things other than that. He needed nothing other than the music pulsing through his veins and the fluid movements of his limbs.

That is, that's what he thought until that hallway incident. He was going to be late, and she was probably going to be late too, to wherever she was going. Screw that, he thought. He heard that teenage boys were supposed to be impulsive; might as well follow the rules once in a while.

"Hey," he shouted, hoping that it was somewhat amicable.

"Hey," was the answer. Her voice was cheerful, coated with sweetness.

"I'm, uh, Jongin. What's your name?" he almost face-palmed himself; he didn't really have experience in socializing.

She gave him a gracious smile. "Jung Soojung. Just call me Soojung," she said. They stood there, shifting side to side awkwardly. Glancing behind her, she regretfully said, "W-well, it's nice to meet you. I was actually on my way -"

"Where are you going? I'll walk you there," he offered suddenly. Dang it, Jongin, what are you doing?

She nodded, "Yeah, just room 213A on the second floor..."

And so their friendship started. It seemed innocent enough. Quite idyllic, to be quite honest.





"So," he said. They were eating lunch together, something they did every once in a while.

"So."

"Okay."

"Mhmm," she replied, sticking some rice into .

They stopped trying to make conversation from there. It's not like they really needed words anyway. Everything just felt so complacent, so mundane - what was there to talk about? The silence filling the atmosphere was a little comforting, like time stopped still just for them.

He looked up to find her already gazing at him. She jolted in surprise, quickly grinning. He returned a little smile, a half-real, half-fake one. He couldn't really bring himself to laugh when she giggled in reply because he swore that he saw hints of sadness behind those joyful eyes, a well of tears threatening to spill over.

He ignored it because she probably would have wanted him to.





"Help me with my project," she demanded one day. She was carrying a box full of supplies: construction paper, glue, scissors, etc.

He groaned. "Oh please, why do I have to help you with everything? Don't you have Jinri?"

"Whatever," she brushed him off haughtily and spun on her heel to walk away.

He grudgingly followed after her anyway, muttering something about why she looked so cute when she ignored him like that.

"I heard that," she said, turning around to eye him.

"Whatever," it was his turn to say.

They got down to work, giving Jongin plenty of time to wonder why teachers assign pointless projects like these that would never help anyone in the real world. Jongin was a little obsessed with the real world, even though he didn't really know much of it. What he did know was mostly from his trainee hyungs and the little glimpses he caught on TV, or the -

"What are you doing, Soojung?!" he exclaimed, snatching the scissors away from her. She had been scrutinizing the blades and testing it on her skin.

She looked up at him innocently. "I just wanted to know how it felt..."

Jongin hastily grabbed her arm, examining the cuts. Thankfully, they were shallow, just a little red.

"I like the color red," she said plainly.

He wore a pained expression on his face. "Please don't do this, okay?"

"Okay, just for you."

That was the first time he hugged her, his arms trying to protect her from her pain, but ending up only clinging onto her as if his own life depended on it. She felt fragile beneath his embrace; her small body was shaking.

"We'll make it," he whispered.





They were in the practice room, lights dimmed down for the night. How late is it? he thought to himself, glancing at his nonexistent watch. He sighed, turning his attention to Soojung beside him.

"I'm sorry for making you do this," she sniffled into her sleeve. "I look so gross right now..."

He made a sound of disagreement. "No, it's totally alright; I'll stay here as long as you need me."

"I don't believe in love," she said out of the blue.

A long silence. "Me neither," he replied. "But do you believe in heaven?" Jongin figured that he wanted to go there someday.

She didn't answer - she just shivered. Jongin thought that it is not only because the room was cold (how do you turn off the air conditioner? he wondered, vowing to find out the next day), but because of an enormous pit of loneliness. He knew because he felt it too - all the trainees did.

So there they were, two kids in a lonely room, both barely into their teenage years, cold and sad and helpless. They were reaching for their dreams, they were told. They just needed to train harder, work, dance, sing, work, work, work...

There they were, two trainees, leaning on each other even though they didn't believe in love. You don't have to love someone in order to understand them. Or maybe you do, and you just don't realize it.





"I'm finally debuting!" she shouted in glee.

"Yay?" Jongin feigned jealousy.

She punched him playfully. "Oh come on, you'll make it soon, too! How could they not let you debut, of all people?"

"Good point," he puffed out his chest in pride.

"Okay, get rid of that ego, just a tad," she laughed.

He stared at her, his eyes wide in awe.

"What?"

"You look really happy. I'm glad."

"Of course I am! My dream is coming true," she shrugged.

He smiled. "I like it when you laugh."





Her name was Krystal now, the ever-perfect, aloof maknae of the new SM girl group, f(x). That's a pretty cool name, he thought to himself when he heard about it.

He didn't get to see her that often anymore; just a glimpse of her back once in a while whenever she passed through the building. But sometimes she would catch his eye and give him the biggest smile she could manage.

"Soojung-ah, nice to see you," he would say.

"Oh please, call me Krystal," she would insist, always.

"Why? I still like Soojung better," he would pout.

"Because," would be the answer, always the same, day in and day out.

If there was one thing that confused Jongin the most, it would be that. He told himself that he would always call her Soojung anyway. Stage names were only for on stage, he would reason childishly. He actively ignored the fact that being a star would mean the media would always be on your case, so you always had to keep a clean reputation. Your stage name persona, of course. So much for being obsessed with the real world.





Just his luck, after years passed (an eternity, the equivalent of twenty-one-hundred-thousand-and-five-hundred-sixty-fou - okay, okay, stop it, his new friend, Sehun, would say), Jongin got a stage name slapped onto his new identity too.

"Well, 'Kai' certainly sounds interesting," Sehun looked intrigued.

"Uh huh."

He wondered how Soojung would react. He got his answer in a few weeks.

"Kai!" she ran up to him, almost tripping in her platform shoes.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're calling me that already? I haven't even officially debuted yet, Soojung!"

"First of all, please, call me Krystal, and second of all, you need to get used to being Kai, so I'll help you!"

He was taken aback at the sheer amount of exuberance in her voice and the over-exaggerated grin on her face that he just wanted to wipe off. He found himself guiltily reminiscing on the days of depressed little Soojung, shivering in a corner with scissors in her hand; that was the Soojung he knew, not this - but wait, he reprimanded himself. It's still her, Soojung is still there. At least he hoped so.

He swallowed. "Uh, yeah, okay, I appreciate it...Soojung."

"Call me Krystal, please."

He winced. "Okay, Krystal," he tested it on his tongue. "Krystal," his gaze practically bored through her, as if searching for something.

"Okay, I have to go now. Bye, Kai, good luck on your debut!"

And she was off and going, down a hallway, laughing. Kind of like the first time, but not really. It was so much more empty, and so much more unsettling to his stomach.

Jongin decided that if that was what the real world did to someone, then he wouldn't really like it that much. Oh well, there's no turning back now, he thought.




"So how is the idol life?" Soojung asked one day as they sat down for lunch. It reminded him of the times when they used to go togeth -

"Wait, what? Sorry, I was...distracted."

"How is it once you're finally here?" she repeated.

"O-oh. It's okay, I guess. It has its good and bad points, like all things in the real world do."

"You're obsessed with the real world, aren't you?"

"I guess. It's not like the dream world is that great either. After all, isn't this supposed to be our dream?"

"So philosophical, Kai."

It's Jongin, he gritted his teeth. He missed the sound of his name coming out of , why is it always Kai, Kai, Kai?

"Yeah," he cleared his throat awkwardly. He missed the times when they could have comfortable silences wallowing in thought or self-pity or plain nothingness.

"Yeah."

"So, are you happy?" he asked out of curiosity. (And out of worry, because he found it really hard to believe that idol life was really that joyful all the time. Or maybe it was, and he was just doing things wrong. He always did things wrong.)

"Yes," she answered immediately. She dodged his questioning glance, looking down at the floor.

"Well, I don't quite believe you, Soojung."

"Krystal," her tone was getting slightly angry and annoyed.

"Okay fine, Krystal, then," he finally agreed, sighing. He didn't have the energy for this right now. He could deal with this later. "I have to go...Krystal. See you around," he said as he got up from his chair.

She smiled in reply. "Alrighty!"

If he had only heard her deceptively cheerful voice, he would have  thought that she truly was happy. But one glance in her eyes, and he knew the truth. The eyes could never lie, he had learned.





Contrary to popular belief, Jongin was a very weak guy. He gave in - he gave in to...Krystal. The name still sounded foreign to his ears, but whatever. He could live with it, as long as it kept her happy.  (Kai, Kai, Kai, she would laugh. Is she crazy? he would think.) Little by little, he felt himself getting dragged into her aura, the charismatic fierceness that fans all over the world grew attached to. Sometimes he would catch little bits of the old Soojung, and he held onto those tightly close to his heart. Somewhere along the way, he became so much in her grasp that he couldn't get out.

And surprisingly, he didn't complain. He was too tired to. That's what the real world does to people, no matter how strong they convince themselves to be.

They were playing a game; that's what they were doing. Krystal didn't tolerate depressing things; she always insisted on doing her job, being "strong," trying to be happy. Kai found himself playing that game too.

They would reminisce on their old times together, leaving out the parts of cold air-conditioning and projects and lunches. Having deleted that from their conversation, it really didn't leave them much to talk about.

"Do you remember our trainee days?" she would say.

"Yeah, they were wonderful. Good times."

"Haha, yeah..."

It became a sickening habit for the both of them, like the only anchor that held them stable. It's like if they forgot about their "happy" past, then everything else would crumble. Or maybe simply it was because they wanted to escape the present, no matter how amazing it was  supposed to be.

Do you remember?

Do you remember?

Do you remember?

Her voice haunted his mind everyday. It was kind of nice. He still liked her voice. It was still soft and pretty and sweet, still lovable -








"Hello?" she says, waving a hand in front of her face.

Kai snaps out of his reverie.

"What were you doing?" she asks, hands on her hips.

He is at a loss for words. He can't tell her that he just ran through the history of them, including the parts about the cold air-conditioning and projects and lunches. That is all taboo - an unspoken rule for the both of them.

He focuses his gaze on her, trying to solve the mystery that is Krystal. Who is Krystal? Who is Jung Soojung? Where is his Soojung?

He gives up because he is weak. He is getting a headache.

"Nothing," he finally says, rubbing his temples in exasperation.

"Oh, okay."

It bothers him the way she can just ignore what happened and continue on in her cheerful, bubbly way, like everything is perfect.

Not everything is freaking perfect, okay! He just wants to scream.

He hates the real world.




"Do you remember?" Krystal laughs, her eyes forming those crescents again.

Oh, here we go again. He nods, playing along with the game. "Yeah, good times, good times."

Their soft chuckles die down into a heavy silence. It's all a show, that's all it is, Kai thinks. It's all a freaking lie. He shifts uncomfortably.

"Well -" her voice is chipper, breaking the brooding atmosphere.

"Damn it, Soojung, why do we have to be so fake all the time?" he explodes, in a bitter tone that even surprises himself.

Her gaze darkens in muted shock as she turns to look at him. "What else do we do?" she deadpans.

"I don't know, mope around, be depressed, jump off a bridge? Be rebellious, run away, anything to get out of here..." his words are rushed; he wears a disdainful scowl on his face.

He stops, his breathing suddenly becoming labored. He doesn't mean to sound like this, he has just reached his breaking point. All the frustrations, all the worries, all the stupidities of his life...have finally bubbled over.

"Damn it, I can't do it anymore."

She whispers softly, "Kai, you know we can't - you're out of your mi -"

And she finds herself encompassed in his arms, limbs heavy and tired. His face is pressed tightly against the nape of her neck, his harsh breathing drawing out goosebumps on her skin. "Soojung, Soojung, Soojung, please..."

Her hand tentatively rubs his back, her eyes already blurring. "N-no," she cries in horror.

"We have to go, Soojung-ah, leave, away, away - hey, do you think heaven is a good place? I have asked you that before, haven't I? Is is better than here?" If it is, why don't we go there together? Now?

A lump forms in as her arms tighten more around his exhausted body. "God, no, stop, please."

"Soojung," he tugs at the hem of her shirt. "Answer me, I beg you," his desperation scares her. He is openly sobbing now.

"KIM JONGIN!" she screams exasperatedly, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and shaking him. "Shut up!"

His cries become quieter as he blinks at her, his stare lazy and depleted. His eye bags are even more swollen than before.

"Get your act together," Krystal shakes a disapproving finger at him, her voice shaking.

"Why?" Kai looks at her, eyes pleading.

"Just because," she averts her gaze from him.

He puts his hands on each side of her face, caressing her skin. Tears streak her cheeks, flowing rivers of bottled up emotion. "Why, Soojung? Why do I have to call you Krystal? Why do we ignore our problems? Why do we ignore our past? Why do we ignore everything? Why do we have to pretend? Why?"

She stares at him through her curtain of tears, unreadable expressions flashing across her features. She breathes deeply. "Because. We have to stay strong, Jongin-ah." His breath hitches upon hearing his name, his real name, said like this for the first time in ages. He nods for her to continue. "B-because," she stutters. "Life , okay? It so much, and it's tiring and exhausting; it's like going through hell. I bet you know how it's like..."

He squeezes her hand in agreement. "Life's a ."

"And sometimes I just want to be a happy little kid again... but a lot of my childhood and teen years weren't really that great anyway...you know how it is. Is it such a crime to want to be pretend that everything is okay? Is it really that bad to award myself a little joy in life, however superficial it is? Is it?!" her voice raises a notch.

He doesn't say anything.

"And Krystal is strong, Soojung is weak. I don't want to be strong half the time and weak the other half. If I revert back to Soojung...who knows what I would do to myself," she pauses, giving him a regretful smile. "Scissors?"

"Oh, Soojung..."

"So you get it, right?" she finally whispers, peering up at him.

He swallows. "And I'm Kai, the strong, perfect Kai, not the weak, lost Jongin, right?"

She nods, and he looks out the window, contemplating. The world is so big, and they are both so small. Two impossibly fragile beings, forced to survive by living a lie - a beautiful, heartbreaking, ugly lie. Is it worth living anyway?

He glances pensively at her, his Soojung, his Krystal. He'll do it, if that really is the only way. Living on earth is the closest thing to heaven right now, he figures.

"I don't believe in love," he feels compelled to say. Yet, he adds, in his mind.

"Me neither."

"Okay," he finally agrees. "Sorry, let's start over from before," he flashes a tentative smile.

"Remember that? Those good old days..." Krystal begins.

"Yeah, I do," he grins, allowing a chuckle to escape. "We were happy."

"Yeah."

"We are happy."

"Yeah."

"At least I hope we are."

"Don't ruin it please."

"Yeah, okay, sorry, let's start over again."

a/n: my latest one-shot reposted from livejournal ;) Hope you guys like it! Comments are love <3