I wasn’t honestly sure what pushed me far enough to do that to myself. Maybe it was impulse, maybe I’m just weak. I’ve been insulted and yelled at more times in my life, and there have even been farther steps of being pushed into lockers and receiving a black eye for a few days.

I hadn’t sipped a single ounce of alcohol since the day my exams were ruined almost a year ago.

I guess I finally cracked.

The bartender had been lying. I had experienced alcohol with much worse consequences. Through my haze, I realized that she probably didn’t know my reason, and figured I would be over it. She was right. But right now, I couldn’t seem to care.

My body, weak with liquid poison flowing through my veins, was easily carried by who I assumed to be no other than Jongin. He was walking hurriedly as I bounced around rather uncomfortably in his strong arms. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes, which made me wonder what he was so upset about. No words were spoken the entire way home.

The bar was only a walking distance of about five minutes, so it wasn’t long before Jongin was setting my slumped form on the wall, pulling his key out and shoving the door open, and picking me up again. The door was slammed shut. He definitely was not happy.

Mixed with my drunken state, he tossed me onto the couch, which felt like a huge fall whenever you were as wasted as I was. Through the haze of alcohol, I saw him get inches in front of my face, slowly moving closer, until I felt firm grasps on either of my shoulders. “Hey, look at me.”

Forcing my eyes open to stare right into his beautiful irises, I almost saw a hint of a faint smile, like he was amused by this. “I was half asleep when I get a call that you’re wasted, and she wasn’t lying. What happened at S.M?” he asked softly.

I shook my head. “Pushed too far,” I groaned out, my syllables slurred together and my thoughts scattered. Now I remembered the other reason I didn’t drink. Using it to its full power was fun for about the first few minutes. Then the bad parts kicked in.

“And that’s a reason to drink this badly? Baby, you can’t do this to yourself. You’re going to be an idol soon. If a little stress is going to do this to you, you won’t make it,” he reminded me, still speaking gently. His voice was so soothing that it didn’t really help waking me up from whatever daze the alcohol had put me in.

When I didn’t respond, he sighed, bending over to rip my tennis shoes off my feet and proceeding to scoop his forearms under my back and carry me to bed. There were no words, nothing. All he did was kiss me on the forehead, shake his head, and leave the room.

I was out as soon as he was gone.

~*~

The next morning, I woke up feeling like . There was no other way to put it. Surprisingly, unlike all of my past experiences with the substance, I didn’t vomit the second I woke up. I was, however, alone. Either Jongin had already woken, or he was too afraid to wake up at four in the morning caked in my vomit.

That’s a really gross visual, come to think of it.

Getting out of bed was a hassle. My head was pounding, a small ringing reverberating from my brain to my ears from any small noise I made. I struggled to get onto my bare feet, not even caring that I was still in the jeans and v-neck from yesterday’s practice. I also didn’t really care that I had practice today.

There was no way I could make it.

Not like this.

Putting some of my body weight on the wall as I dragged through the hallway, I made it to the kitchen, where I found Jongin pouring himself a bowl of stew to go along with some rice. He knew how to cook, so long as the instructions were written down somewhere and it didn’t take more than ten minutes to make.

He had set his food down at the table, along with a napkin and chopsticks, before walking over to me slowly and cradling my weak body. It felt nice, having secure and ready arms around me. My head fell on his chest, and he laughed softly. “Morning, baby. Are you feeling okay?”

I nodded.

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

I dug around in my head for the answer to the question, but I easily found it. I remembered everything.

What a useless drink.

I nodded, and he hummed softly, his chest vibrating. “Are you going in today? I can go tell your other members that you won’t be able to make it today if you don’t want to.”

I sighed. “That’d be great.”

I felt Jongin nod before letting me go, moving to eat his breakfast. Just as I was making my way to the fridge to get some soda for a wake up call, I felt something arise in my throat thickly, causing me to clamp my mouth shut by biting my lips closed until I reached the trash can, releasing the acid from my stomach and hunching over the counter in the kitchen.

Jongin did nothing, just scoffed. “This is why you don’t drink, pabo.”

“Shut up,” I gasped. “I’m going back to sleep.”

I slowly made my way back to the bedroom, but not before Jongin’s voice called back, “Be up by six, though. I have a showcase at seven and I want you to have a good spot. You promised.”

Oh, yeah. I had completely forgotten. Jongin and I had already been to a couple showcases, which were just small events in the S.M. building’s waiting area as a progress awareness for the representatives. Friends, family, and other trainees that weren’t participating all showed up, as well as the important people up front.

It was pretty nerve wrecking, I’ll admit.

But they made you look good.

I was close to unconsciousness when I heard the front door closing, a sign that Jongin was off to practice. It wasn’t much longer before I was already asleep again, back to my dreamless slumber.

~*~

The S.M. building was always busy on showcase nights. This was the only time they kept the doors wide open for any visitors instead of using access cards to get in besides audition days, and lots of members of family belonging to trainees showed up. Siblings, parents, lovers, anything you could imagine.

I, however, was alone.

The vomiting and headache had ended when I had gotten up for the second time today, but I still felt a little strange, so I had worn jeans and a hoodie, something comfortable. I also had on Jongin’s hat he had given me so long ago, but that was for precautions.

Anyone could be here, and anyone could include my dance instructor, who would be sure to chew me out the next morning, no doubt following. The seats were mostly already filled, but I managed to find one at the end of a row with an empty seat to my right. The trainees performing were stretching and going through some movements before the representatives arrived to judge them.

My eyes instantly locked with Jongin’s. He grinned widely at me, which didn’t match his half un-opened leather jacket and bright red pants, as well as his fancily-styled hair. The stage wasn’t very decorated or fantastic, but they had to be. Just to see if they could pull off the idol look.

I smiled back warmly and waved to him, but one of his instructors, my old one, looked him in the eyes and told him. I was trying to read his lips and understand, but two rough slaps on either of my shoulders startled me out of my accidental daze. My head spun around, only for my eyes to meet Joonmyun’s.

“Oh. Hey, hyung.”

“Hey. Here to watch my little brother?” he asked, promptly sitting down in the empty seat next to me. I nodded, and he smiled. “Yeah, me too. I was in the one last week, so it’s his turn. Why aren’t you up there?”

My stomach churned. I hadn’t told him.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t come in today. I’m kind of hiding,” I lied meekly, adjusting the bill of my hat. Joonmyun nodded with a laugh before a middle-aged woman got up front with a microphone and greeted everyone. She got silent, though, when the doors opened to many tailored men, one of them being the chairman himself.

All of the trainees bowed, and while Sooman took some notice, the representatives shook them off and took their designated spots in the front row, breaking out their writing materials to take notes on every moment of the showcase. Jongin was going up for dancing, along with some others nicely dressed.

The woman started the show case with the models. Then went actors, followed by the singers, who acapella-ed an old ballad. The last ones were the dancers. My eyes connected with Jongin’s, and I gave him a small “fighting!” fist as a sign of support. He grinned back and winked at me before instantly growing serious as he took his position on stage.

This was it.

As soon as the music began, and the stars of the night took their positions, my mouth dropped. I was entranced, my gaze locked directly on Jongin. His movements were so clean, so precise that he didn’t even look like he was trying. They flowed with no hesitation. His face was expressionless as he moved, his lips slightly parted and tiny, glimmering beads of sweat forming on the top of his forehead.

I’ve began to notice something with my boyfriend. When he dances, it’s not even like he’s my dorky, loving Kim Jongin anymore. He’s someone else. He transforms into a creature, something only put on this earth to dance so flawlessly that nothing can compare.

He’s no longer Jongin.

He’s Kai.

Kai is the one he is destined to be. His only purpose is to get on stage, dance his heart out, and be able to listen to millions screaming those three letters back to him in support. His moves tell a story, whether they are his own or not. He’s not monotone. His dancing speaks volumes, more than his own voice can.

I’m still not sure how I could debut first.

Not when this being, not when Kai is the obvious stand out of any trainee I’ve ever seen dancing before. I don’t know why I’m even trying, when I know I’ll get triumphed and cower in fear to the dancing god that lives with me and cuddles me every night.

I don’t know.

When the showcase has wrapped up, I was speechless as Jongin walked over to me. I couldn’t help myself as I roughly wrapped my arms around him as he laughed nervously. My hangover had been completely forgotten in the wonderful reminder that his being was mine.

“Hey, what’s that for, baby? Did you like it?” he teased, gently helping me pull away and pecking me on the lips. I watched a single bead run down his cheek as I spoke.

“I loved it.” I turned back to stare him in the eyes. “So damn much.”

Jongin laughed again, pulling me into a soft hug. “Thanks.”

“I’d hate to kill your lovely moment here,” a voice interrupted, making my head turn around again. It was just Joonmyun again. “But great job, Jongin. That was really good.”

“Thanks, man.” Jongin grinned and hugged him. Joonmyun bid his goodbyes to us because he had to get home to Jaesu, leaving Jongin and I alone to ourselves.

We were about to walk out, hand in hand, but we were stopped by one of the representatives that had been in the front row. He nodded to both of us, but turned to Jongin. “Mr. Kim, may I speak with you for a second? Privately?”

Jongin looked troubled. “U-Uh, yes, sir.” He pulled away from me, following the representative a few feet away, and I couldn’t hear a of their conversation. It was frustrating, and seemed to last forever, but I was watching Jongin’s expressions throughout, and they seemed very pleased.

Until one of the last things the representative said.

His face fell as fast as it had brightened.

Jongin finally walked over to me, and I didn’t even have to ask what he had said. I just stared up at him, the crowd filing out as he watched me intently. His voice was raspy when he spoke. “I think this just became a battle.”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he took a deep breath, “I could debut in a group, too.”

My eyes widened, and I smiled. “Jongin, that’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you!”

He still didn’t look pleased. “No, it’s not fantastic.”

I was getting frustrated now. “Why not?”

“Because if my group debuts… yours doesn’t.”

~*~

I like this chapter a lot. :D

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