jongdae never expected his relationship with yixing to come to this.

they're both on their laptops, headphones plugged in like always, except this time, they're thousands of miles apart, literally on opposite sides of the international date line. and they're facing each other on their screens, jongdae's side somewhat fuzzy because he refuses to pay extra euros for wi-fi and insists on using the free wi-fi at his favourite roadside cafe.

"you really should stop being a scrooge." yixing frowns at his boyfriend, his features distorted further by the terrible connection. jongdae tries not to laugh as he sees yixing's nose freeze at one spot and stay in a distorted mess of pixels when he adjusts himself. "not until they start charging one euro for two hours," he jokes, a smile forming on his face.

jongdae pulls his coat closer to him. it's late october and amsterdam is far into autumn. the only thing warming him is his cup of coffee which is fast turning into ice coffee, the wind not being of much help. that feeling of vast loneliness is crawling into his mind and gradually taking up residence.

"how's julliard treating you?" he says, trying to break the growing awkward silence between them. "when will i be able to see you on broadway?" yixing snickers. "it's going to be an awfully long time before i get to broadway. how about you? are you getting high everyday without me?" jongdae nearly chokes on his coffee. yixing laughs. "i know you aren't, because you'll be kicked out of the exchange programme," yixing rolls his eyes as he yawns, obviously parroting a conversation he's had with jongdae a thousand times over.

when jongdae catches a glimpse of yixing's dimple forming on his face on the screen, he barely remembers how they were basically reduced to skype conversations with poor connection at a set time, as many times in a week as they could. jongdae was doing his exchange in amsterdam for a year, while yixing was in new york and he managed to get into julliard, of all places.

it wasn't the easiest decision for them to make. it's not that they didn't go without fights, without nearly month-long periods of not speaking to each other, or without crying themselves to sleep at night. junmyeon always said they were attached at the hip and separating them would be like ripping out their vital organs.

but eventually, they both decided to compromise, with jongdae being the first to say that he never wanted to get in the way of yixing's dreams of being on stage, let alone the broadway stage.

when yixing finally ends the call (because jongdae doesn't want yixing to feel like he's being left alone), jongdae notices the darkness enveloping him and feels the warmth of a nearby street lamp. the sun has gone down, replaced by a black night sky covering the city like a blanket.

jongdae remembers the time where they were both curled in one of their beds, just looking at each other, taking in each others' features. when they made love for the very last time before they went to opposite sides of the international date line, in the dark, jongdae heard yixing's voice cracking, sounding even more broken than he normally did when jongdae took him. jongdae decided to think that they were pants of pleasure, and not yixing muffling his sobbing.

jongdae looks up to the night sky, and he can see stars.
he wonders if yixing is seeing the same sky, full of stars all the way in america.
and he finally scribbles something on his previously blank writing pad.

i can see the stars, from amsterdam
if you were here, i'd sing to you.

\\

whenever yixing is able to get back from practice to sleep, he likes to look from the window of his apartment and admire the night sky and the city lights, with the cars moving, lights dancing in the night.

the radio begins playing snow patrol's chasing cars, and it makes him think of jongdae.

he thinks back to a more carefree time, where he and jongdae were in the same time zone, in the same country, where they would make mix tapes for each other between cramming for exams if not occupying with extended make-out sessions, and jongdae would bind ridiculous, flowery words together into things that he called "poetry". yixing snickered to himself. he felt younger and so alive, but at the same time he felt that the love he had with jongdae was so fragile, as if he trapped a firefly in a jar, especially towards the end of their time together in the same place.

he remembers the time where they were both curled in one of their beds, just looking at each other, taking in each others' features. when they made love for the very last time before they went to opposite sides of the international date line, in the dark, yixing felt wet droplets on the corners of jongdae's cheeks, and he decided to think that they were merely beads of sweat, not tears.

yixing rests his arm on the window pane. he stares out to the night sky. the streets are still relatively noisy, and when he squints higher he sees a gibbous moon, and sparkling dots surrounding it.

are they stars or satellites? yixing wonders in silence. jongdae might know, since he's read so many books.

the sparkling dots remind him of jongdae's megawatt smile. jongdae loved singing, but although yixing tried so many times to convince him to try and go to julliard together with him, jongdae still refused, saying that he would rather be behind the scenes with a writing pad and pen instead of a microphone for company.

let's waste time/chasing cars/around our heads

yixing secretly wished that time would drag out for them, and he wished that he could have found a way to elongate the days before they parted to chase their own dreams.

yixing sighs and rests his chin on his arm. the silence in the apartment was deafening, and nearly every day he ponders over the many what ifs, if jongdae had come to julliard with him and they could share this cosy apartment together, in the heart of the city where dreams were made of.

he grabs his guitar from the corner of the couch and begins to strum as he continues to gaze out into the night sky, the sparkling dots still clear in sight.

his voice gently cuts through the silence of the apartment.

can you see the stars/over amsterdam/if you were here/i'd sing to you

//

fin.