Jonghyun's POV

There was nothing that could contain my worry as I had found a single notice in my cellphone right after practice, warning me of a single missed call from Sang Hee.

I fretted interiorly with impatience as I watched the city lights pass by from across the window. We were on our way back home; I couldn't wait to seek refuge on the balcony once more to be able to speak with her without any disruptions. I clearly remembered the doubts I had aroused in my manager last time I had dared talk to her on the phone. I couldn't afford that anymore, since any suspicions reported to the company could cut the bonds of whoever he thought was harmful to the harmony of SHINee with us.

And it would kill me to have the bond that linked me to her be cut off.

I detached my eyes from the city landscape and gazed at the silhouette shrouded by darkness right next to me; as he felt the pressure of my eyes on him, Minho turned slightly, a curious expression on his face.

He understood how hard it was to keep a secret within the scrutinizing eye of SM Entertainment, and he was one of the very last people I would ever suspect of betrayal. It was a shame there was no opportunity for me to tell him of my worries now, not with our manager in hearing range.

The manager himself wasn't a particularly evil person though: he was always there for us and actually cared for our health and such things. But he was under the command of the company, and, in this industry, you have to follow orders, or else it was done for you. I wonder if he would’ve sided with me had things been any different.

I knew there was no point in wondering about what could’ve happened, when there was nothing I could change about it. But, sometimes, you just couldn’t help but wonder what your life would have been under different circumstances.

Without a doubt I wouldn’t be an idol at this moment if things were otherwise. I wouldn’t have all these fangirls calling out to me whenever I graced the stage, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to live thanks to music, I wouldn’t have all these wonderful memories of performances alongside my members.

But, if things were different, I would have been able to spend time with Sang Hee without feeling scrutinized, without fearing the consequences of my every act.

I wondered why I was so attached to her though, why it was so important to me to hear why she had called me, why I worried so much when it was her.

Deep down, I knew there was only one plausible explanation. But it wasn’t and couldn’t be acceptable.

At least, not for a human being who was looked up to so much, who belonged only to the gazes of his fans.

The city lights illuminated the vast buildings in front of me, but it was something I was too used to by now. The view from the modest balcony was accompanied by a chilling wind. My worry prevailed over the discomfort my body was experiencing, my thoughts set on the need to find out if anything had gone wrong. The monotonous sounds of a call being made resounded in my ear, as I waited anxiously for her to pick up.

As soon as I heard a familiar, cool voice that did not belong to a sweet, young girl though, I found myself immediately on high alert.

“Yobeoseyo?” said a male, stern voice. It was familiar to my ears, but the fact that a guy had answered her phone stirred up a different emotion from worry in my thoughts.

“Hello, can I talk to Sang Hee please?” I asked, trying to be as unwavering as possible. I still couldn’t shake off the discomfort dwelling in me though.

I soon heard a laugh without amusement. “I’m sorry, but she can’t. She’s taking a shower now.”

Shower.

That word immediately popped out suddenly. Who was this guy, and how did he know she was taking a shower? Why was he the one to pick up her cellphone? Where were her parents?

Why could Sang Hee, out of all people, ever be comfortable enough to take a shower while there was another guy in the house?

I had the impression I had heard his voice somewhere before though. I decided to ask him another question, as I plunged into the confines of my memories for an answer.

For an answer I hoped would calm me down.

But all it did was strangle me with anxiety and heighten my worry.

It was a voice I could now seize in the hazes of my mind.

It was his voice.

His annoyingly familiar and chilled-to-the-core words now identified clearly with only one person’s memory in my thoughts:

Dae Myung’s voice.

And, for some reason, that was just the limit for what I had tried to ignore in the fissures of my heart: a volcanic jealousy that had lied dormant up until now.

“What is Sang Hee doing, taking a shower while you are under the same roof as her?!” I snapped furiously; I surprised myself.

Why was it him, out of all people?

To what extent had their relationship grown?

I heard a cold snicker on the other end of the phone; this only heightened my anger and irritation. “Why are you getting so angry, Mr.Idol? She’s just a fan. As far as I'm concerned, you and Sang Hee are from two different worlds. There is no reason for you to even care about what she does. Unless, of course, you care for her a lot more than you should be?"

I couldn't explain the surge of realization that swarmed me at that moment.

What was I doing right now, calling her for the simple reason that I was worried?

Furthermore, one other thing bothered me greatly: the fact that he had guessed it right, that he had seen right through me.

Was I really acting that obvious? After all these years in the entertainment industry, why couldn't I control my urge to make sure that she was alright?

I was scared to admit it; I was scared to accept what I had tried to ignore for these past months.

"Is it really that wrong for me to make sure she's fine? She's a friend. In all logic, I have every right to call." I told him bitterly, trying to contain my extreme anger.

A fun-devoid laugh resounded from the phone. "Friend? Don't make me laugh. Maybe you think that way, but she thinks of you otherwise. In a much, much higher perspective." He paused slightly; a sigh was heard soon afterwards. "If you really want to help her, let her attachment towards you fade away. It's really the best for both of you."

At those words, my heart wrestled interiorly, twisting and aching from the confusion and reluctance that resulted from his words. I did not want to believe he would have reason and kind will supporting his statements.

He chuckled softly. "Well, it's time for things to set themselves in place, like they should've been from the start. I hope this is clear enough for you. You two meeting was not meant to be. It was just a pure coincidence. Keep that in mind."

And, just like that, a soft thud was heard from the other end. A somehow empty and bleak ringing tone followed soon after. I normally would've listened to reason, agreeing with it that I really did have nothing to do with her. I normally would've given up; she was but a fan after all.

But I wasn't listening to common sense. I was angry, feeling extreme reluctance and irritation, as if I had just lost a long-waged battle.

As if I had just lost to him, out of all people.

And that infuriated me so much.

I dialed her number once more, feeling this newfound rebellion boiling in my veins.  As the tone was heard at the other end, this wait seemed longer than ever.

As an enough amount of singled out ringing passed, the possibility that he would've set the tone to silent only added oil to the fuming rage inside me. The voice message tone soon answered my fruitless call.

I immediately closed my phone.

And, by then, all the hopelessness of my actions hit me.

Why was I trying so hard? Why couldn’t I let her go as easily as I had let the other friends leave? Why was I so attached to her?

And there was him.

Just hearing him speak in such a way, as if he was that close to her. As a brother?

No, that wasn’t it.

As a lover.

That thought sickened me. I carelessly dropped my cellphone on the balcony table and soon leaned myself with both hands against the ledge. The city lights shone brightly in front of my eyes, but they were nothing to me at that moment.

I closed my eyes slowly, as if even the simple act of it tired me to no end. I had resigned myself to the situation; slowly, but surely. Now that I wasn’t in a constant turmoil of denial, my heart hailed out this newfound abandon and assaulted me with all the memories I had spent with her.

The short, yet happiness-filled moments where we got to open ourselves to each other, when she called me as she needed comforting, when I sang her to sleep.

And there was the reason I had tried to ignore all along, rising from all those memories.

It shone brightly, now that my eyes weren’t veiled with denial. It appeared so clearly, now that I wasn’t rejecting the possibility.

It was so obvious now.

I gently heightened my head; I could feel the wind caressing my skin as the city sounds resounded in the distance. I opened my eyes, and the star-filled sky welcomed me within itself.

I smiled bitterly.

I loved her.

I freaking loved her.

But I was too late now.

Dae Myung’s POV

I stared coolly at Sang Hee’s sky blue cellphone grasped in my hand. The tone was set to silent; I stared at the message that displayed a missed call. I couldn’t believe he had called. Why was he so attached to her? It didn’t make any sense.

At least I got to tell him off. This wasn’t good for her.

Especially not with this whole situation with her parents ravaging her from the inside.

I couldn’t think about it more though, as I heard the bathroom door open meekly. I indifferently deleted the notice and closed the phone, in case he would call again; she didn’t need to worry about it now. I set it upon the night table, where it had rested right before.

No point in dwelling over it, after all.

All I had to do was to cherish and protect her from harm.

As the door opened, she entered silently, her head hung down. Her hair was still slightly wet from the shower, a few drops still dripping. She had a long, sad expression on her usually happy, serene traits, and her steps were long and devoid of energy.

Even though she was wearing my clothes that were too baggy for her, even though she had lost that familiar, cheerful aura, she was still so beautiful in my eyes.

I wondered how she did it.

I approached her slowly; I still didn’t know if I had a right to touch her. It was really hard to resist though.

She raised her head, our eyes meeting solemnly, silently. I smiled quietly. “Your hair’s still wet.” I simply stated.

“I know, but I don’t care.” she replied tiredly. Hearing her so empty of cheerfulness broke my heart.

I quickly stepped past her and walked towards the bathroom, only to grab a dry towel. Before she could say anything, I had gently dropped the towel over her head.

“Pabo, you should take better care of yourself. You could get sick like this.” I whispered, falsely exasperated. I started grasping her hair with the towel, squeezing it to make the water escape.

“As if anyone would care if I did.” she said quietly, sadly. My heart slightly hurt at those words.

“That’s not true.” I replied, halting my actions suddenly. I gazed at her from behind, wondering how depressed she must be to talk this way.

“I care." I whispered softly, almost lovingly.

She replied nothing to that; I wondered if she wanted to avoid the topic about my feelings for her, or if she just had nothing to answer to that. It hurt to be faced with no answer, but maybe I was expecting too much of her.

Especially when she was going through such hard times.

I softly took her by the right shoulder, my other arm still holding the towel wrapped around her dripping hair, and lead her to the twins’ bed. They and Umma weren’t home, since they were staying at my aunt’s house. I hadn’t accompanied them, for obvious emotional reasons.

I gently made her sit and lie down with her hair on the pillow, still wrapped up in the towel. All along, she didn’t detach her happiness-devoid eyes from me. No words escaped her lips though.

When I realized in what kind of position I had gotten us into, it was too late. I was over her, gazing into her beautiful, sad eyes, held apart from her lips by a few centimeters by my arms pressed against each side of her head.

I wanted to kiss her so badly.

But who was I kidding?

I got myself off and stood up in a languid manner, staring at the wall at the other end. I didn’t want to make things even more uncomfortable for her at all.

“I guess you should sleep for now.” I told her in a whisper, my eyes latched onto a wall I couldn’t even see in my thoughts.

Soon enough, step by step, I headed towards the door. I planned on sleeping in Umma’s room, so I wouldn’t frighten her or anything of the sort. I wished I could help her more, heal her emotional wounds more.

But I guess doing this much was fine too.

I held my hand up on the lights.

“Good night, Sang Hee.” I told her softly, gently.

I pressed on the lights, and a simple click was heard. Darkness filled the room behind me, and I restrained myself from walking back to stay alongside her.

I didn’t want to leave her alone here. She was so hurt already; if I stayed away to not frighten her, will it really help?

She needed someone to be there for her. But was I the right person to help her?

I didn’t know.

I really didn’t.

But when I was about to close the door, I heard her pleading, trembling voice resound through the silence of the night.

“Dae Myung, don’t leave me…"

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HELLO DEARIESSSSSS. <3

I'm so so so sorry for the long wait!! I just lost inspiration for a long while, and nothing came to mind when I tried writing. x.x

BUT as you can see, I finally finished writing one chapter! <33

Now, about this chapter... JJONGIE FINALLY REALIZED HIS FEELINGS FOR HERRRRR. (FINALLY!!!!!! XD) You guys can kinda see what's coming now, right? Yes, a rivalry has been officially announced! <3

And and and. I hope my writing skills haven't dulled away with time, and that you guys still enjoyed it! ^w^

Thank you to LocketForever, MelonCandy and TheInspiritedGirl for dropping by and telling me they were still waiting impatiently for my update! It gave me a boost, haha. <33