25 August 2013

Kibum: Hey, wanna meet up for lunch?

Ryeowook: Sure, be there soon

He pushed the phone back into his pocket, humming along to the song playing through his ear buds. It was a pop song, bouncy and cute and very embarrassing. Ryeowook hated to admit that he had been listening to it all day and night since getting to college. There was something so addictive about the sound.

It’s true love
A happy tempo, close my eyes and enjoy this feeling as much as possible
Feel the warmth of my palms
Treat smiles as my present

The song played brightly all the way to the dining hall. He chuckled to himself here and there as he sang along silently, wondering why he was listening to a song about winter in the simmering heat of late August. He had to be crazy.

Ryeowook covered his eyes as a gust of wind blew leaves all around. His heart beat faster for some strange reason, a smile b on his face.

You and I embrace in a white world
Listening to the clock bells, making a resounding promise

“I’m totally ridiculous,” he muttered, having difficulty grasping what was wrong with him. It felt like the lyrics were driving into him, sealing that promise as if it were tangible and magnetic – drawn to the beating of his pumping heart. Ryeowook chewed his bottom lip, feeling like he was losing his mind very quickly.

Sitting down suddenly, he pulled out his notebook. The bench was warm from the sun, but shaded by the crowding bushes and trees around him. Clicking his pen, Ryeowook started scribbling, eyes darting to the sealed envelope tucked safely into the front pocket of that particular notebook.

You are so very far, so very far

Even the very small, very small trivial things make me think of you every day

On a far off day, a very far off future

Deeply sleep like it’s winter

He breathed a bit heavier, studying the words and phrases that had formed on the page. They didn’t make sense together. There were random instances of the song playing in his ear buds that manifested on the paper. Ryeowook circled and scratched, making notes here and there as he tried to pull the threads of that song – that thought – that want – back to him.

It needed life and breath. It desired so much of Ryeowook that he just couldn’t understand how to give those feelings over. What were those feelings anyway?

Sighing deeply, he leaned back on the wooden bench, looking up at the rustling trees, the curves of clouds, the too wide sky. “Where are you?”

A book covered his face. Ryeowook yelped in surprise. Kibum’s laughter caught his ears and he pushed the book aside, glaring at his roommate. Standing beside said roommate was a handsome boy – very handsome. He had to do a double-take.

“You were supposed to meet us for lunch. How did you get out here?” he complained, sitting down on the bench as well. Kibum nodded up to the handsome male. “This is Donghae. He’s a year ahead of us.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Ryeowook greeted, bowing his head, “my name is Ryeowook.”

“I heard from Kibum,” Donghae grinned, dropping his backpack on the ground. “You’re a music composition major? I heard that’s one of the hardest ones around this school.”

“I guess so,” he laughed, “the work is fun though. There’s a lot of freedom.”

“Wow,” the puppy-like male nodded earnestly, “I’m a dance major. My friend Eunhyuk is too. He’s in class right now, but I’m meeting him later.” Donghae clapped his hands. “Actually, would you two do us a favor? We’re going to be competing in a street dancing competition soon and we’ve been having people watch us. Would you watch us too?”

Ryeowook considered it for less than a second before he was nodding. “Yeah, definitely! That sounds really cool.” He smiled, wondering if this was what college life was like. Everything was so spontaneous. People were quick to ask for favors and quick to agree to said favors. Ryeowook recalled being more reluctant about going out back in high school, but then again, when he thought about it, there were no restrictions here. No one would stop him to tell him off for being dumb or irresponsible.

He was supposed to take care of himself and that was perfectly fine with him.

“What’s this?” Kibum picked up Ryeowook’ notebook and read the scribbles, “…are they lyrics?”

“Yeah,” he tried to snatch the book back, but Kibum pulled it out of his reach, “I mean—well, they’re just ramblings. I don’t know what they are yet.”

His roommate made a noise that sounded like he didn’t believe him. “Well, don’t throw it out. This looks pretty cool. I don’t really know where you’re going with it either yet, but the words are emotional.” Kibum gave him a smile, returning the notebook which Ryeowook hastily stuffed away.

“Aw, I didn’t get to see,” Donghae whined.

“It’s okay, you’ll see it when it’s complete,” Kibum assured.

“Since when?” Ryeowook demanded.

Kibum grinned teasingly. Exasperated, he chuckled but still refused to let his guard down around Kibum again. The guy was quick and quiet. There was no way to really avoid him when his eyes were so sharp and his words so easy.

“Hey, you remember when G-Dragon came here?” Kibum suddenly remarked.

They nodded.

“Well my cousin,” he glanced at Ryeowook, “the one I want to become an K-Pop idol? Do you remember him?”

“A little,” he responded slowly, trying to recall the familiar statement. “Why? What’s up?”

Kibum was smiling broadly, almost smugly. “I heard from my auntie that his audition went super well and that G-Dragon actually sat in on his performance. It looks like my cousin, Henry, was offered a full-ride to SME University and G-Dragon personally requested to be his mentor.”

“That’s insane!” Donghae cried, immediately shutting his mouth at the strange looks he received. Lowering his volume, he went on in an urgent hiss, “Oh my god. How cool is your cousin to get something like that? Is he like some sort of genius?”

He paused, seemingly unsure how to respond to that. “I guess…the best way to describe him is by saying that he’s a prodigy. There’s really nothing Henry isn’t good at. The kid is amazing. He can play violin and piano at an expert level, and as he’s said before, he can play practically any instrument. He speaks something like five languages, well six if you count that he’s learning Korean now. I made him dabble with it before, but now he has more of a reason to know it.”

“You really care about him,” Ryeowook remarked, unable to help his smile.

Kibum shrugged softly. “Yeah, I guess I do,” his eyes shined with affection, “he’s a really precious younger brother…or something like that.”

“Older brothers are really the best,” he chuckled.

***

Kyuhyun stared up at the ceiling, trying not to breath in the smell of sweat and . His chest rose and fell unevenly, breaths leaving him in pants. The too warm, foreign sheets slid roughly against his sticky skin rather uncomfortably, but despite that, he felt nothing was wrong. There should’ve been some sense of wrongness in him, but through the haze of alcohol and , he couldn’t find anything really wrong.

“Hey, do you need any help baby?” his partner for that night asked. Her fingers ran across his smooth chest, tracing some of the harsh hickeys she left.

Loud music still blared through the thin walls of the apartment. Kyuhyun shook his head, sitting up and grabbing his scattered clothes. Flashes of the night blared through his wasted brain. There was something wrong, he just knew it, but he couldn’t quite figure out what. He hadn’t done anything wrong, right?

The girl had hit on him first. He just went with it. All he wanted was some warmth and maybe an outlet for his frustration. She was perfect for the job. Besides, Sungmin and everyone else couldn’t blame him. He was drunk. His ability to think logically was horrifyingly low at that moment.

“Are you gonna go back to the party,” she called from behind him.

Kyuhyun clumsily tugged his shirt on, not bothering to fix his hair as he stumbled to the door. “No. Don’t feel like it,” he shook his head, pushing his way out of the apartment. He caught himself against a wall, breathing in the sharp cool air of the night.

Staggering away from the party, he pulled out his phone and dialed the first number that popped up. Kyuhyun waited impatiently, tripping flopping down on a curb a block down from the party. He sat underneath a floodlight, silently but anxiously waiting for a reply. Why was Eunhyuk taking so long to answer? He should’ve been ready for this.

“Hello?” An unfamiliar voice spoke.

Kyuhyun’s brow furrowed. “Who the are you?” he slurred, “Gimme Eunhyuk, Eunhyuk!”

Through a blur of static, he heard the phone being switched over with the words, “Sorry, Ryeowook, this happens sometimes. Don’t take it personally.” A second later, Eunhyuk was talking into the phone, “What is wrong with you, Kyu?”

“I just had with a girl,” he giggled, catching himself against the cold lamp post, “, what am I doing?” Kyuhyun’s shoulders shook – eyes closing as he rested his head against pulled up knees.

“You’re drunk,” Eunhyuk stated flatly. A door slammed shut on his end of the phone. “Why did you do it?” he sighed, gaze wandering around the dark stairwell that led to the basement level dance studio. They had been up all night working on their choreography for the competition and Ryeowook and Kibum had been surprisingly helpful. Eunhyuk didn’t think there were still people who offered their help so unconditionally.

Kyuhyun didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh or yell. The alcohol was definitely getting to him. “Can’t you come pick me up?” he whimpered. “I really hate it here.”

“You’ve been there for less than two weeks. Calm down.”

“People ,” Kyuhyun whined, “they don’t actually care about me. All they want is a hook-up.”

“Well, you don’t put yourself in a position that screams you want a relationship,” Eunhyuk responded tiredly, “you’re already in one, if you had forgotten.”

“Sungmin is boring. He doesn’t care. He’s not here with me. I just need…I need someone here with me,” he breathed, voice breaking up.

Eunhyuk softened, because that’s how he was. No matter how much of a wreck Kyuhyun could be, he still cared and he didn’t know why. It was unconditional. Somehow, despite hating everything Kyuhyun did, Eunhyuk still loved him like his own brother. They had a bond beyond judgment. All he wanted was for Kyuhyun to calm down and pull himself together.

Was that so much to ask for?

“Why don’t you break up with Sungmin, then?” he asked gently.

“Because no one else would deal with my !” Kyuhyun cried. “No one…no one else has ever been so nice to me…I can’t give him up.”

Shouldn’t it be because you love him? Eunhyuk didn’t say so though. “You’re being selfish.”

“I know…I know…,” he mumbled childishly. Kyuhyun sniffled, tears staining his jeans. “He doesn’t need to know. No one needs to know…god,” he laughed sharply, “you know the worst part? I don’t even feel bad. I don’t think I’ll feel bad tomorrow morning either.”

Eunhyuk rubbed his head tiredly. “How are you getting home?”

“Don’t call that disgusting dorm home!” he shouted.

“Okay, how are you getting back to the dorm,” he reworded. Eunhyuk was already going through his bank of people, trying to recall if anyone was around that area that could pick up the guy.

Kyuhyun was quiet for a long time before shaking his head. “I’m fine. I can get back fine.”

“Are you sure?” Eunhyuk asked, unconvinced.

“No,” he coughed, “but there’s no one here.” Kyuhyun was quiet for another second. “See ya.” And then he hung up.

Eunhyuk stared at his phone for a prolonged minute, wondering if he should call back his friend. Of course he was worried, but at the same time, was it really his responsibility to take care of a legal adult? Wasn’t Kyuhyun old enough to make his own decisions and mistakes? Besides, they were so far apart, there was nothing Eunhyuk could really do in that situation. Well, that’s how he rationalized it at least.

There were probably a ton of things he could do, but none came directly to mind. Honestly, he was very tired. Extremely tired, in fact, of Kyuhyun’s bull which seemed to be endless no matter how many supposedly good decisions the guy made.

Shaking off the unease, Eunhyuk walked back into the dance studio to see Donghae chatting with Kibum and Ryeowook. The three of them looked up, worry immediately etching their faces. “It’s nothing,” Eunhyuk dismissed with a wave of his hand, “That happens a lot, so don’t give me those looks.”

“He sounded really upset,” Ryeowook muttered, disliking how he had been yelled at for doing absolutely nothing. All he had done was pick up the phone and say hello. Was that suddenly a crime and no one told him?

“He was drunk,” Eunhyuk explained flatly, picking up his cap from the floor, “he gets a little hysterical after drunken .”

Kibum snorted. “That’s specific.”

“Weird guy,” Ryeowook frowned.

Donghae sighed. “I’ve actually met him once while visiting Eunhyuk over summer. The kid isn’t bad, just a little sassy. He’s cute though, you know when he’s not like…that.” He stopped talking, wondering if he had made things worse. “What I mean is that there are good things about him, just like there are good and bad things about everyone.”

The other three were silent for a breath, but then laughed. Eunhyuk slapped Donghae on the back, before hauling him up to his feet. “You’re too nice, Hae. That was pretty cute.”

“Very cute,” Kibum mumbled under his breath, eyes twinkling with humor. Donghae glanced at the younger male curiously, but Kibum just brushed it off. “You guys wanna finish your choreography by tonight, right? It’s probably best if we get going then.”