Chapter  9: Interlude

The comeback is delayed.

Lee Soo Man is not at all happy, but a decision is reached to have the mike stands remade with duralumin so that they will be lighter. Since the pictures of Kibum being carried into the hospital have been published in all of the major entertainment websites, the company can give no other reason for the delay. Kibum’s schedules for next two months are cleared, and he’s almost grateful to have been injured when he’s told that he can go home for a week or so if he wants.

Minho and Jinki are both worried, he can tell, but it’s a vague sort of worry; the way you worry about an impending storm, knowing that you could probably dig a bunker under your house and stock up on canned food and also knowing that you never will because such measures are overkill for what could just be heavy rainfall.

If Jjong is worried, it doesn’t show. Kibum supposes that Jjong is still relieved that he’s not the cause of this fiasco.

~

Kibum packs Comme Des and Garcons into his car and drives down to Daegu, stopping along the way for coffee at one of those petrol station convenience stores.

There is only one ahjumma behind the counter, and he’s pretty sure that the guy pumping petrol is her son. She doesn’t object to having dogs in her tiny little store, so he brings Comme Des and Garcons in, and gives each of them a chewy treat. Cars fly by on the highway outside, and Korean oldies play softly on the radio.

He feels like a different person out here.

~

Everytime he sees his parents, Kibum feels the passage of time. Back at the dorm, they are so busy shuttling to dance practice and variety shows and fanmeets and clandestine meetings with other halves that the days blur together. Here, though, time has a very real effect.

He notices how his mother hobbles slightly as she walks around the kitchen, preparing the ingredients for his favourite meal. He notices how his father takes the stairs slowly, and how he bends from the knees when reaching down to pet Comme Des. As much as he loves the city, as much as he is born to live there, Kibum can’t help but wish to be something more than an absent child to his parents.

Later that night, after dinner, Kibum wanders into the garden. His parents refused to let him help with the washing up, despite the fact that this is his only opportunity in a long time to do the things a son should. The sky outside is dark. If he had come in spring or summer, crickets would be chirping.

There was a time when he wanted nothing more than to leave Daegu behind. SM gave him that opportunity, and he grabbed onto it with both hands, uncaring as he signed the contract to sell his life and soul to a corporation. That was the time when, despite the bouts of merciless schedules and sleeping in vans, he learnt what it was like to be absolutely miserable and absolutely fulfilled at the same time.

That’s changed now; he’s a successful pop star, a respected musical actor, someone special to a gorgeous and, as he’s come to learn, pretty decent guy, but he no longer feels like he’s on top of the world. There is something missing in him, some longing that he can’t quite satisfy with food or family or .

Now, he longs for the time when he felt almighty.

~

Jonghyun is-

There are no words to describe Jonghyun.

He is everything Kibum wants to be, but he’s also every last cliché Kibum wants to avoid.

Kibum has learnt how to charm; he’s learnt how to be cool from watching his sunbaes and from English movies, and he’s taught himself what to do to entrance an audience. Jonghyun seems to know it all off-hand. It helps that he has a voice any trainee would kill for, of course, but he has an easy confidence that makes everyone feel like they can be his friend.

And, for reasons Kibum still cannot understand, Jonghyun apparently finds him just as interesting.

They quickly become friends, like a moths drawn the same burning flame, fluttering around each other and the fame they are both courting.

Along the way, Kibum learns more about Jonghyun than he knows about himself; about his near-crippling bouts of depression, about his fear that he’s a disappointment to his father, about his deep and enduring love for anime. Kibum wants to be Jonghyun when he’s strong and Kibum wants to protect Jonghyun when he’s not, and before he knows it Jonghyun becomes something Kibum associates with wanting.

Kibum is Jonghyun’s best friend, and then Key becomes Jjong’s best friend, and everything is fine.

Until Yunhanam.

They were so busy, so overworked, in their trainee days that romance had been nothing more than a fleeting, wistful thought; the way a man in a desert might think of snowstorms. Sure, there was always time for a clandestine kiss and mutual wanking, but Kibum is so busy cultivating his image as an ice princess that he lets the opportunities slip past his fingers like grains of sands.

Until Yunhanam, when Jjong starts flirting with the noonas, on camera and off; when he occasionally shoves Key aside to hold a noona’s hand, and Kibum is so jealous he wants to cry. He flirts with Jjong then, saying outrageous things like almost falling for Jjong, waxing poetic about the angles of his face. Jjong responds with the same semi-platonic affection that they have always shared, and although it’s one-sided and that hurts, it’s also safe. Kibum figures he can live with this simmering , this vague emotional toothache that twinges every now and again, until they make it big-time and he gets the freedom to date.

He’s not especially worried, because it’s just a silly little crush.

~

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Speak of the devil; it’s Jjong.

Feeling better?

His fingers have tapped out a reply before he can stop to consider whether it would be appropriate; whether, by replying, he would give Jjong hope that they could go back to being the way they used to. It’s tiring, to have to censor himself like this, especially since Jjong was his best friend before he became his lover, and in losing the latter he’s somehow lost the former as well.

He sends the reply anyway.

Just ate a biiiig plate of bulgogi :P

The phone buzzes before he can return it to his pocket.

Naughty Kibummie fails his diet

He laughs, then, conscious of the loudness of his voice in the quiet garden. He should be angry with Jjong for hitting him hard enough to make him need therapy and he should be angry at Taemin for barging back into his life with no apology for leaving it the way he did, but all he feels right now is peace.

Maybe it’s because he can now envision a life beyond SHINee; a life where he’s just a normal guy living in a flat somewhere with his boyfriend and their dogs. A life where he can stand outside in his garden and enjoy the quiet of the night.

~

“This…I’m not in love with you,” Kibum insists. “This is just…”

“Of course,” Jonghyun murmurs against his lips, hands fumbling with the buckle of Kibum’s belt. “No strings attached.”

“Good.” He inhales sharply when Jjong’s teeth – his stupid dinosaur teeth – cut the inside of his lips, bites back just as hard and tries to get his hands between them to remove Jjong’s t-shirt. There is too little space in the closet – haha, Kibum thinks – but this is the only place they can be sure is free from spycams or recording devices, so this is what they have to work with.

The ual frustration that had been caused by Jjong’s new muscles and his three-tone hairstyle and the fishnet tank tops the stylist keeps putting him in had come close to driving Kibum crazy. So crazy, in fact, that he’d failed to notice that Jjong had been eyeing him with the same lust-ridden expression. It was only when they had come back to their shared room, when Jjong had cornered him against their closed door and asked him whether he was being so blatantly seductive on purpose, that it had pinged. He doesn’t remember who came up with the closet idea, because his mind had been too ecstatic at the discovery that Jjong is just as good a kisser as he imagined him to be.

Having finally won his battle with Kibum’s belt and buttons, Jjong slips a hand into the confines of his skinny jeans and palms him roughly. Kibum stifles a groan and squeezes Jjong’s abs, marvelling at the hardness underneath his hands. He’s wanted to do this for so long.

Jjong bends, and the t-shirt finally slips over his head. He’s curved at a ridiculous angle, and Kibum is about to ask him what he intends to do when he feels a nip on his hipbone. The nip turns into a bite, and Jjong’s pushing the band of his underwear lower to a mark into his skin.

“Are you crazy?” Kibum hisses. “We can’t leave marks.”

Jjong’s response is a smirk both cocky and endearing. “I’ve wanted to do that forever.”

He doesn’t bother to ask Jjong whether he prefers girls or boys or whether he’s an exception, just as Jjong doesn’t bother to ask him whether he’s done this before; their love lives are no secret between them, the details having been laid bare on the nights their insomnia drove them to seek refuge in the silent hall and each other.

They don’t go as far as they would have liked, because they have to dance tomorrow and neither of them feels the need to rush what looks to be a good, lasting arrangement. They clean up inside the closet, with the toilet roll Kibum had the foresight to bring in with him, and emerge into the cool air of the hotel room looking put together enough to deny having done anything improper in the closet.

Kibum falls into his bed with a sigh, heart full and body light; the shower he had been longing for earlier can wait until morning. Life is good, he thinks. Here he is, in a four-star hotel room paid for by SM, with unrestricted access to cable and the minibar, having just got off with his best friend whom he has been hungering after for the better part of a year now, and tomorrow he’s going to sing and dance and people are going to adore him for it.

The bed dips. Fingers tug his t-shirt over his head and Kibum is too lazy to protest. The same fingers then slip under him to undo the buttons of jeans, and Kibum growls in warning.

“You’ll regret sleeping in them tomorrow,” Jjong says, and Kibum arches his hips slightly to allow his friend to pull them off. The jeans fall to the floor with thump, and Jjong curls up next to him, nuzzling his neck.

“Goodnight, Kibummie,” he says. “Saranghae.”

He doesn’t like the way Jjong throws that word around, like it means nothing, and at the same time he’s jealous of Jjong’s ability to proclaim his love for things without fear of rejection or ridicule, but he’s too happy right now to get worked up about it. “Goodnight, Jjong.” 

~~~

“I should have known you would have an ulterior motive for asking me out,” Woohyun grouses, playing with the straw of his ice-blended coffee.

“You know I don’t normally ask for things like these,” Seop says. “In fact, I don’t think I ever have.”

“Fine, fine. What do you want to know?”

Seop feels a bit guilty for gossiping about Key behind his back; it runs contrary to every principle he has, because he believes in complete honesty in a relationship. The thing is, he’s just realised that he has no idea how deeply Taemin’s departure from the band had affected Key, and Key is either in denial of the same or does not wish to discuss it.

~

“Are these kinds of injuries normal?”

Key takes time to think before answering the question. “It is quite normal for dancers to develop wear-and-tear injuries. You wouldn’t believe how stiffly all of us were walking during our Ring Ding Dong promotions, but if you warm up properly, a sudden injury is not that common.”

“Then how did your shoulder get the way it is?”

“The mike stands are quite heavy, so we had to do push-ups to strengthen our upper bodies. I found that really difficult, so I didn’t put as much effort into it as Jjong or Minho. I didn’t expect it to backfire like this. Anyway,” Key eats a mouthful of pad thai “let’s not talk about work.”

Fair enough. Seop tries to be casual as he asks the next question, because he knows it is a sensitive subject for Key. “So, how are things with Taemin?”

Key stiffens. “Not you too.”

“Huh?”

“Everyone is on my case for talking to Taemin.”

“I’m not judging you, I promise. I’m just curious.”

“It’s nothing. He’s my former bandmate, is it so weird for me to want to keep in touch with him?”

“Not at all,” Seop says, although he knows now that it is most certainly not nothing. “You’re going back home this weekend, right? Do you mind taking something to my parents for me? I was thinking of mailing it, but since you’re going…”

“Not at all. I’ll just get it from your place before I leave.”

~

“What exactly happened with Taemin leaving?”

“I knew it was going to be about that.” Woohyun takes a sip of his coffee, and shakes a finger at Seop. “I’ll tell you everything, but if my name ever comes up in relation to this, I’ll skin you.”

“Cross my heart. Now spill.”

Woohyun sighs. “No one knows why Taemin left. They just woke up one day after clubbing and he was gone. Didn’t take a single thing with him other than the clothes on his back and his phone and wallet. There was all sorts of speculation about him either being in the country, or supposed security camera photos of him going to America or Hong Kong or wherever. The only reason they knew he wasn’t kidnapped was because they got a text saying that he was done with the idol life.”

Seop doesn’t say anything, because these are all things he has learnt online.

“He sent that text message to Kibum. Not to his parents, not to Jin. Kibum.”

“Why?”

Woohyun shrugs. “Who knows? But it certainly didn’t make things easier for Kibum.” He runs a hand through his hair, and Seop sees that he’s getting agitated, and continues. “You would have had to have known what he was like before it happened to know just how heartbroken he was when Taemin left. I mean, initially he was just as angry as the rest of the guys, because the scandal nearly ended the band.”

“I remember reading about that.”

“SHINee was still a very fresh band at that time, and they didn’t have any scandals hanging over their heads. They were supposed to be, I don’t know, naturally charismatic. The best at everything. So now you have fans wondering whether that was all a show. There were rumours that Taemin was being bullied by the others, and rumours that one of the managers had ually abused him. You wouldn’t believe the nonsense people were spouting. On top of that, the band was so small that no one, not even me, thought they could carry on one member short.”

Seop remembers how Jonghyun had tried to punch Taemin when he showed up on Key’s birthday, and finds himself empathising with the lead vocalist.

“But after a while, he just shut down. I’d see Jonghyun in the gym, going at the punching bags until his fingers bled, but I never heard a word from Key. It was like he dropped off the face of the earth as well.”

There is a pause, and when Seop looks up, Woohyun’s eyes are glossy and wet. “Then he called me, once. He said ‘what sort of hyung am I? What sort of person am I, that I couldn’t see that there was something wrong with Taemin? I should have known that he was unhappy’, and then he just broke down crying. I listened to him weeping over the phone, and I remember thinking ‘this is what a broken heart sounds like’.”

He knew, of course, that Key must have had a hard time when Taemin left, but he cannot imagine Key, who is so independent that he’s sometimes aloof, being torn down like that.

“But why was it worse for him?”

Woohyun smiles sadly. “He adored Taemin. That whole Key-umma thing the company had as a concept for a while was bull, but you have to understand that Taemin was still a child when they debuted, and Kibum took it on himself to look after him. The stupid bastard likes to pretend that he’s an ice queen, but he’s got a really soft heart, and well-“ Woohyun makes a what-can-you-do gesture.

Seop suddenly feels old. “I think I might hit Taemin the next time I see him.”

He finally understands, though. He understands why Key sounded so desperate over the phone, why he had sent him on a fool’s errand despite the fact that the both of them always work on the unspoken assumption that their individual careers are more important than their relationship.

“So if this is all too much for you to handle,” Woohyun says, a tinge of warning in his voice “now would be the time to get out. Don’t lead him on and disappoint him when things really get rough.”

Seop nods.

~~~

Now that the comeback has been delayed, they are considerably freer, and Jink contemplates taking up a role he has been offered in a sitcom. The character is not overly complex, but is a break from the usual bumbling and overly affable character he has to play as Onew.

He comes back from discussing the matter with the managers to find Jonghyun and Minho sprawled in front of the television, topless and sporting expressions of extreme boredom. Empty low-fat banana chip wrappers lie scattered around them, and the pile of blankets and pillows Minho had brought out for Key is now spread across the entire hallway.

Key would have said something sarcastic and provoked equally nasty comments from Jonghyun and Minho, but Jinki just walks by silently; he wouldn’t have made the mess himself, but it’s not his job to make sure that a bunch of grown men clean up after themselves.

“Have you had lunch yet, hyung?” Minho asks.

“No, I’m going to get something in a bit. Why?”

“Can you pick something up for us as well?”

“Okay. What do you guys want?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Nothing for me,” Jonghyun says, eyes never leaving the television. “Not really hungry.”

Jinki grabs the keys to his BMW and leaves. Jonghyun always becomes like this when Key is absent; depressed and gloomy. It’s a side of him they’ve been seeing more of since Key started dating Hyeong Seop, and Jinki does not feel like dealing with it at the moment. Being made to fetch lunch for his dongsaengs is a bit demeaning, but it’s a lot better than futilely grappling with the same problem that he has for five years now.

Instead of going down the road, Jinki takes a long-ish drive to Itaewon to one of his favourite restaurants. Their yukgaejang is good and inexpensive, and it’s something he loves to have at this time of the year.

Stepping into the little shoplot, he greets the waitress with his head bowed, and orders a portion large enough for three people. She understands without being told that it’s to take away, and directs him to sit at one of the tables near the entrance.

It takes a while for the order to be prepared, so he orders a beer.

He’s just sitting there, enjoying his beer, when he hears a familiar voice. It’s not one he’s heard lately, but he supposes that it’s one of those things a person does not forget.

Swivelling in his seat, he catches sight of a couple sitting at the table across his; a young man with long red hair whose back is turned to him, and a girl wearing a t-shirt stating ‘All of Time and Space Comic Book Store’. She says something Jinki cannot catch, but when the young man replies, it is with Taemin’s unmistakeable voice. Jinki strains to catch his words.

“That part of my life’s done and over with, Ji-ah. I can’t go back.”

She scowls. “I’m not asking you to go back. I’m just saying that it’s really rude for you not to answer his texts or even call him to ask how he’s doing when he’s so worried that he sent his friend looking for you.” She takes a sip of whatever drink is in front of her and continues. “You’ve asked me this four times already. My opinion’s not going to change. I’m not forcing you to call him, but I’m not going to tell you that it’s okay to just ignore him.”  

A laden plastic bag lands on the table in front of Jinki, startling him from his eavesdropping. He bows slightly in lieu of thanks, knowing that Taemin will recognise his voice just as surely as he recognised Taemin’s.

Under the pretence of finishing his drink, Jinki stays a while more to listen to Taemin’s response.

“I guess you’re right. I’ll call him tonight.”

The girl smiles. “Oh thank God. I thought I’d have to have that same conversation with you at least five more times. And now, since I’m such an awesome colleague, you can repay my kindness by getting me the number of that gorgeous friend of his.”

Taemin laughs. “I knew it! Hah, he’s probably gay though.”

Jinki swallows the remainder of his now warm beer and strides out before Taemin can notice his presence. His suspicions that Kibum would defy their manager and remain in contact with Taemin have been proven right, and he finds himself a bit upset; not because he has a grudge against Taemin, but because all of s have problems and none of them trust him enough to come to him with them.

Then again, he thinks as he drives back to the dorm, he wouldn’t either.

~

Nobody quite knows what to make of Taemin. Jinki has practiced singing with the younger boy before, on the roof, and he knows from their session together that the latter is just not ready vocally to debut. He knows of his reputation, though, as a ‘dancing machine’; everyone does.

Jjong is as friendly to their maknae as he is to everybody, and Minho, when he breaks out of his shell of silence to interact with him, tends to treat him as a distant younger cousin.

He has to keep an eye on Key, though. Twice now he has caught Key staring at Taemin with murder in his eyes. Taemin is a better dancer, cuter without even trying and he gest more attention than the rest of them because of his age; it must be infuriating for Key. This ill-will goes completely unnoticed by Taemin, who, truth be told, comes off as a little bit air-headed to Jinki.

They are practicing a new dance, Jennifer Lopez’s Do It Well, when it becomes clear to Jinki how fierce the rivalry is between Taemin and Key. He, Jonghyun and Minho aren’t dancers, and they barely keep up with the beat. Taemin and Key, however, pop and lock and swing their bodies in perfect imitation of their choreographer, and with each repeat their moves become more powerful, more aggressive.

In the end, though, the choreographer tells Taemin that he needs to learn how to dance like Key; he needs to learn how to infuse his technically perfect moves with personality. Taemin’s face crumples and Key’s eyes light up, and Jinki foresees trouble. In that moment, he wonders what Key is contributing to the group – he’s not the lead singer, dancer or rapper, but he’s feuding with the two youngest members – to the extent that SM cannot replace him with anyone else.

In the van, Key is too busy chatting with Jonghyun to notice the way Taemin watches him, but Jinki is not. He wonders how long it will take for this problem to be resolved, and hopes that it goes away by itself. It’s not like Kibum will listen to anything he says anyway.

The next morning, Jinki wakes up to find Taemin passed out on the couch, his mp3 player in his ears.

And the morning after.

And the morning after that.

Jinki stays up on the fourth night, determined to decipher the younger’s new habit. Key and Minho have probably noticed it too, since they’re both usually up before him. He’s pretty sure that Taemin spends the night practicing, but he wants to be sure before reporting anything to their manager.

Sure enough, half an hour after Jjong starts humming in his sleep, Taemin slides his blankets off and wanders out into the hall. Jinki waits for five, then ten minutes contemplating whether he should follow him when Key climbs down from his upper bunk and leaves the room as well.

Jinki tiptoes out of the room, and hides himself behind the bookshelf between their bedroom and the hall. He’s right, Taemin is dancing. Key is sitting on the floor, recording him with his phone and making a few suggestions every now and again.

“Wink at the audience, Taemin-ah.”

“Where’s the camera? Look at the camera, even if it’s just out of the corner of your eye.”

“Laugh.”

Taemin stops dancing. “Laugh? Why?”

Key shrugs. “You don’t need a reason. Laugh a bit, and the audience will think you’re either happy or you spotted something funny or that you like that move, and they’ll think ‘Ah, that little baby thing looks so cute’ instead of seeing you as just the dancer.”

“Okay.”

“Come on,” Key grabs Taemin’s hand and leads him to the kitchen, and Jinki shrinks behind his cupboard. “Nobody can dance hungry.”

They cannot be seen from the kitchen, but the smell of something nice fills the air. It’s too sweet to be kimchi, but it’s not quite the smell of sugar either. His stomach rolls threateningly, and he hopes they are making enough noise in the kitchen for his growling tummy to go unnoticed.

After a torturous span of time, in which Jinki becomes hungry, makes a thousand guesses as to what Key made and becomes hit by the need to pee, Taemin and Key troop back into hall and sit on the couch.

“I’m too full to dance,” Taemin complains. “You sabotaged me.”

Key just laughs. “You’re so funny.”

“I’m not,” Taemin protests. “Shut up.”

It doesn’t take long for Taemin to lean on Key and fall asleep. Key gently eases Taemin off his shoulder and pulls his legs up on the couch, and Taemin stirs.

“Wha – Key-hyung?”

Key’s voice, when he answers, is coloured with a tenderness that Jinki’s never thought him capable of. “Yah, it’s just me. Go to sleep.”

“It’s so uncomfortable.”

“You can’t go back without waking the others.”

Taemin grumbles unintelligibly under his breath.

“Sleep.”

“What about you?”

Key laughs. “I’m the Almighty Key, I don’t need sleep.”

Taemin falls silent at that statement, and Key stays by his side, petting him like a pet dog until he falls asleep again. When Key curls up on the floor, blanketless and using only a cushion as his pillow, Jinki goes back into the room. He’s right insofar as Taemin is dancing, but the rest is unexpected. It’s a good surprise though; he can stop worrying about Taemin and Key getting along.

The next day, Taemin winks at the choreographer and she’s so taken aback that she misses a step. She tells him to keep up the good work, and Jinki is not confused at all when Taemin aims his bright, dazzling smile at Key. The older boy just smirks, but now that Jinki’s seen underneath this uncaring exterior, he doesn’t miss the way Key’s eyes twinkle merrily.

That night, Key and Taemin both sleep in their beds.

~

Jinki pulls up in the parking lot, and drags himself out of the car. His can see now that this problem with Taemin is in its infancy, and he cannot tell what will happen to SHINee before it ends. 

XXXXX

A/N: updated! Comments, please :)