Note: (Mystery behind Myung-Explosion SOLVED-kind of. Orz.)

Playlist: Lena Park (박정현) - You Don't Know Me

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In your heart that you refuse to show me
have you hidden someone else
at the end of the day gone without a word between us
whose name do you write in your diary

Sungyeol was stuck inside Sunggyu’s bedroom much to his dismay. The smell of Sunggyu’s scent on the pillow and bed sheets made him feel awkward. So he just sat there on the older’s bed with impatient hands fidgeting with each other. Sungyeol was an opinionated person once. Yeah, stubborn and obnoxiously loud. He hasn’t been like that for quite a while now. Strange, this must be the first time he ever thought about this. How long has it been since he’d stopped being that loud, annoying kid?

“You’ve lost yourself, Sungyeol, in the midst of all this.”

If Sungyeol closed his eyes like he did now, he could almost feel the familiar cool fingers brush gently against his bangs and featherlight on his sweaty forehead. Then the touch would disappear as quickly as he felt it. Myungsin had always been like that. Unreal and shadow-like. A completely different world, detached from theirs. He’d once wondered if Dongwoo knew this. He even thought of asking him if this little person had always been like this.

Then Sungyeol remembered how they all had initially thought of Dongwoo. A completely different world, that was what he was. But how many other worlds were there? Because Dongwoo’s world wasn’t the same as Myungsin’s either. Dongwoo’s world seemed closer to the rest of them; close enough for everyone to believe he wasn’t alien but just far enough for them to notice the difference. Myungsin was a whole other story. Sometimes he felt like he might understand her. They could almost relate sometimes, but other times Sungyeol was left perplexed.

Myungsin was a shadow—no. She was like a reflection, she was only there even when he was left alone. In darkness she remained by him, that was the difference between shadows and Myungsin. But once he felt better, she was gone. Detached and retreated within herself. The only times he felt her whole presence were the moments he struggled with himself. Then the girl would say or do something only a person like her could come up with and Sungyeol would find gushes of fresh air in his suffocating lungs once more—Myungsin had disappeared again.

“Now, where’s that eraser when I need it?”
“You don’t need an eraser, director-nim.”
“What are you talking about? Of course, I need my eraser.”
“You don’t see me erasing any part of my life, do you?”

Sungyeol stared at the closed bedroom door in front of him. An amused smile almost made its way to his lips as he remembered the cheeky grin Myungsin had given their director. Sungyeol’s delayed amusement dissolved somewhere between the scraps of his memories. That’s because you’re too young to have regrets, kid. The director had chuckled, looked back down at his notes and scribbled away, the initial hunt for his eraser no longer crucial.

Sungyeol remembered turning to Myungsin to whisper: “Oh look, he forgot about the eraser.” But his words got lost within the forlorn smile which had already replaced her childish grin—she too, had lost herself within some place Sungyeol could never witness.

“Please find yourself soon, hyung.”
“I-I… where am I supposed to look?”
“Where you left it, of course.”
“Do you think- maybe… I don’t think I want-”
“Sungyeol, it’ll be there. It’s going to be waiting for you, in one piece.”
“…Myungsin, I-”
“Please, hyung. Trust me?”

Sungyeol looked around the unfamiliar room hoping to find his phone. Of course it wasn’t here. He sighed, slouching back down. He wished he could call her at least, he hadn’t seen her since… yesterday? It was just yesterday but it seemed so far off. The memories felt as hazy as his emotions. It mustn’t have sunken in yet—the reality. Yesterday afternoon, he got himself punched. The first one to his left cheek, then his right cheekbone and the third one to his jaw.

His own calloused hand absently traced the outline of his bottom lip—broken. He couldn’t help but chuckle dryly—his chest ached but this time he knew for sure it was from the bruises. Actually his whole body ached. This pain was from the abused muscles, he’d been shoved into a wall several times no doubt it would leave an aftereffect. Really, his heart didn’t hurt, his heart didn’t hurt, his heart—was a muscle.

Sungyeol scoffed at himself, his muscles ached.

#

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you don’t love me
you don’t know me
tell me that isn’t it
you just don’t know me
i’m not the one you want
you don’t know me

“Sungyeol hyung, I…” The younger’s voice had trembled. It was just yesterday, he could clearly remember it. He was convinced he must’ve been dreaming because Lee Sungjong would never ever come undone in front of the lowly Lee Sungyeol. He could have convinced himself it was all some twisted imagination due to oversleeping all the time, if not for its aftereffect. The bruises for one, but more vividly, the way Sungjong’s exposed skin had felt beneath his hands, the way the younger’s body had felt against his own, and his scent that seemed to have lingered long after the touches were taken away.

Sungjong’s lips had shyly met his own. Sungyeol wasn’t sure what was happening. This was Sungjong, Sungjong.

He was probably crazy.

The taller had escaped to the dressing room once it was deemed okay to leave the filming crew—Sungyeol felt the need to detach himself because Myungsoo was there, giving charming smiles and crinkling eyes to everyone else and not sparing him a glance, not that he expected anything different but it still hurt all the same. Besides, he felt the need to change his clothes all of a sudden. Yeah, that was it, he was still in his drama outfit.

When Sungyeol entered the empty dressing room he had been sure it was empty. Unoccupied couches, desks—everything. So he silently strode to one of the changing cubicles, the one he had long ago claimed as his—always keeping his belongings inside it and all. Busily ing his crisp dress shirt, the fake school sweater already draped on his arm, he slid open the curtain and froze.

“Wh-” The boy inside it whipped around, startled at the sudden sound of the curtain. Eyes widened, they stared at each other for a second too long before Sungyeol took an awkward step back, a little guarded.

“Uh, I…” Sungyeol stuttered, glancing at everything else but Sungjong. “I’ll uh, yeah.”

He blindly pointed towards the door over his own shoulder when words failed him pathetically yet again. Mentally cursing himself—yes, give another reason for Sungjong to insult him. But the taller was stopped before he could even move his stupid feet.

“Wait-” Sungjong sounded urgent and strangely anxious. “I mean…”

Sungyeol chanced a discreet glance at the boy through his own lashes and slightly untidy bangs. That was when he noticed something disappeared behind the younger’s back. He was hiding something, that much was obvious. It was probably rude of Sungyeol to slyly tilt his head towards the side curiously catching a glimpse of the hidden items in the mirror behind the boy—a pen and paper? Why was he hiding here with a pen and paper?

It took him another second to realise Sungjong was watching him expectantly. Sungyeol uncertainly straightened, gaze decidedly meeting the younger’s soft ones. Soft?

“Yeah?” His voice came out much more steady than he felt. The fake confidence in himself almost made him cringe.

“Congratulations, hyung. You did really well,” Sungjong smiled timidly at him. From the mirror, he could catch the boy crumble the piece of paper and storing it securely into his back pocket along with the pen. Then his bony hands came back to his sides so smoothly Sungyeol wouldn’t have noticed anything if not for the obvious reflection. “I’m… I’m happy for you, really.”

The taller blinked, not trusting his own ears. What? The younger chuckled lightheartedly, expression clearly displayed on his pretty face; he knew Sungyeol didn’t believe him.

“Really, hyung. I’m…” Sungjong began fidgeting, eyes suddenly losing their playfulness as they flickered around the empty room in an anxious manner. Sungyeol waited, rooted on the spot. He tried not to flinch pathetically when Sungjong took careful steps towards him.

Lee Sungjong was perfect. No doubt about that. His dark hair looked soft, his skin was milky and clear, his clothes were always perfect on him. Sungjong always knew what to say, how to act—everything. Everything he, Lee Sungyeol, could never imagine himself being. Not to mention how pretty the other always looked. Those were the things he should’vr been envious of, and yet Sungyeol never once did. He’d only envied him for one stupid thing—Myungsoo. Sungjong had Myungsoo, while he had no one.

After so long, having Sungjong this close to Sungyeol felt so foreign and unreal. The younger’s scent caught his senses again for the first time since forever—had Sungjong always smelt this musky of vanilla? Or was it butterscotch? That random thought didn’t last long as the taller felt a small tug at his dress shirt, he glanced down to find Sungjong silently working on it. This was surreal.

“If you’re gonna leave without changing… make sure you’re all buttoned up, hyung.” He whispered under his breath, eyes not leaving his task at buttoning his way up. Sungyeol kept silent, something was drumming against his chest too loudly it distracted him from coherent thoughts. He must’ve somehow made this Sungjong up inside his head—Sungyeol let out an amused chuckle. He stared at the flawless boy within a breath distance as the latter looked up in surprise. Sungjong’s long fingers remained on his shirt, absently gripping the fabric area a little below his chest. This couldn’t possibly be real, it just couldn’t.

“This is funny.” Sungyeol smiled softly at the boy, unable to hide his amusement. The younger tilted his head to the side, eyes sparkling at the other’s amusement.

“What is?” Sungjong questioned, small smile playing on his lips, hands still on the older’s unfinished buttons. Sungyeol tentatively raised his own hand, waving it once between them.

“This. Am I hallucinating now? I thought I was getting better—I haven’t shed a single tear for months, I think.” Sungyeol mused out loud, smile not fading. “I thought I was coping. So what is this?”

Sungjong frowned, not comprehending as he absently leaned in towards the older.

“I… what?” Was what came out.

“You’re… you aren’t real, silly. I must’ve made you up. This is funny, you look real but you’re not doing anything.” He voiced to the silent Sungjong, his long finger made its way to gently jab at the younger’s forehead. “You feel kind of real, but your skin is too soft. Well, I wouldn’t know since I haven’t been this close to you in so long. Have we ever been this close? I don’t remember you smelling this good.”

“Are you saying I usually smell bad?” Sungjong’s eyes widening as Sungyeol’s hand curiously touched his cheek.

“No, I’m saying I don’t remember you like this. See? Your jawline is too sharp, and you’re not making my life hell. You’re helping me button up my shirt—what are you, my wife? I’m telling you now Sungjong, I think you’re perfect.” The taller uttered endlessly, leaning in with a hazy smile, enjoying the warmth radiating from the younger’s skin. He felt the grip on his shirt tighten but he didn’t mind. Everything just felt so unreal as he watched Sungjong’s gaze lose focus. He might as well just say everything before the younger stopped being real. “You made me cry a lot, probably more than Myungsoo did. Yeah, I know I’m pathetic and all so I don’t really blame you. I’m just sad that I can’t be worth more, you know?”

Sungyeol dreamily traced Sungjong’s solid outline as he lost himself inside his thoughts. The younger looked teary and unguarded, which made him chuckle quietly.

“I never thought I’d imagine you this sensitive, although it’s a really, really nice change. But if you keep appearing this vulnerable… actually I knew I would go crazy one day but- I… Here, see? Your breath even smells good, I told you everything about you is perfect. But the real Sungjong would never even think of letting me-”

“Shut up, you .” The boy cut him off, jaw suddenly tensed, hands clinging desperately onto the older’s shirt. “Stop talking like you know me when you never even tried. You don’t know what goes on in my head and you never cared to find out. And I’m ing real okay, hyung? You’re not crazy, you’re just ing stupid.”

Sungyeol remained unblinking as the skinnier boy tried to catch his breath. Sungjong was glaring daggers at Sungyeol but his grip on him stayed fisted as if afraid the older would dissolve in front of his eyes—as if Sungjong was the one conjuring him up. He then later wondered what it would be like to have really been the younger’s creation. He might just be as perfect as Sungjong.

“Okay, maknae. I believe you,” He answered calmly. Low and serious. “You just cursed at me, I believe you.”

“You .” Was all Sungjong said through his perfect rows of teeth before yanking Sungyeol by his shirt, their bodies pressed against each other. Then when the taller didn’t protest, Sungjong’s courage all seemed to have dissipated. The taller knew what was coming, he could feel it in the way Sungjong’s hands shook despite trying to steady them by gripping harshly onto his clothes.

Sungyeol could feel the younger’s heartbeat pound against his own, and all he could imagine doing was try to ease Sungjong’s nerves. He had no idea what he was doing when he soothingly traced circles just below the latter’s jawline. He really had no ing idea why he waited instead of pushing him away for all the other had done to him. Probably because Sungjong was perfect and his thin figure felt real against his. Probably because Lee Sungjong was ing perfect and Sungyeol really, really wanted a little taste of that perfection.

And it came. Tender and timid on his lips as he let it happen. There was nothing sensual about it at first, just gentle and loving, everything Sungjong was not. He let them stay that way until he felt something wet dropped on his cheek. Sungyeol opened his eyes to witness another tear escape Sungjong’s closed lids.

“Why are you crying?” He remembered whispering, lips brushing and foreheads touching. He protectively wrapped an arm around the younger’s waist, pulling him as close as he could. Don’t cry.

“I’m not crying.” Sungjong’s voice cracked and Sungyeol tried not to smile at the childishness.

“Am I that bad?” He joked, brushing their lips together lightly. He heard Sungjong sniff and chuckle at the same time, shyly leaning in to press their lips firmly together.

“Yes.” He mumbled against him, the grip on his shirt loosen to circle around Sungyeol’s broad shoulders instead.

Their lips both parted, savoring the moment and the foreign tastes of each other. This was the first time Sungyeol ever kissed a boy, and it was Sungjong. The perfect set of lips were tugging so tenderly at his own pathetic ones. Something Sungyeol would never understand in a million years but he’d make the best of it.

He lost himself somewhere between the feeling of Sungjong’s body pressed against his, the cute whining and the way he seemed to cling onto him so desperately. It was more than Sungyeol ever thought possible. None of them were sure how long or short it took for the temperature to rise. One second Sungjong was shy and timid against him, and the next their tongues had already met, their bodies flushed against each other. Sungyeol’s hands unknowingly rode up the younger’s sweater, feeling the smooth skin underneath.

Curious, he opened his eyes to catch the reflection of Sungjong’s skin beneath his touch, and the only thing he could register was a growl escaping his throat. Perhaps he was enjoying this a lot more than he should.

It wasn’t long before Sungjong began muttering Sungyeol’s name as the older changed course to heatedly trail wet kisses down his jaw and neck. It wasn’t long before Sungjong found his back pressed against the mirror as Sungyeol’s hands hungrily palmed every inch of his exposed skin. It wasn’t long before Sungjong started and silently wishing he hadn’t button up Sungyeol’s shirt—he really wanted to feel him too.

And it wasn’t really that long before all of this got taken away from Sungjong, just after he had finally gotten a taste of what he had only silently wished for, for so long.

#

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In your heart that you didn’t show me
were you planning a good bye from the beginning
behind your eyes that become sad without a reason
who do you miss when you’re by my side

Myungsoo decided he wouldn’t go back to the dorm tonight. He didn’t want to go back home too, no matter how close it was from where he currently was. He wasn’t stupid enough to rent a hotel room either, people were ought to find out. And besides, after spending the second half of his day here, alone, he knew he ought to leave. It was stupid to come here in the middle of the day. It didn’t matter if the bar was open, he just shouldn’t have come.

The boy called the only number that made sense to him. The one he probably have been dialing too much the past months for his own good. Because it made perfect sense to call Myungsin when he was close to drunk at only six in the evening. She ought to pick up—she better. This was all her fault anyway, the girl should at least take a little responsibility. Everything Myungsoo had within his grasp, they were all snatched away because of her. Trying to save people when she couldn’t even save herself. Plain stupid.

“Hello, sir?” Myungsoo frowned at the foreign voice. This wasn’t Myungsin—this was a guy’s voice.

“Who are you? Where’s Park Myungsin?” He gritted his teeth and growled. Frustrated.

“I’m sorry, sir. Miss Park Myungsin’s phone has been confiscated for the first half of her recovery-”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Myungsoo frowned.

“Would you like to leave a message, mister… idio- uh, Myungsoo, sir? I can pass it on when her manager comes to collect the rest of Myungsin’s belongings tonight, including her phone.”

“What? Did she die or jailed or something? Why would you need to- wait, how did you even know my name?” Myungsoo grumbled, not liking his lack of privacy especially when he was a little tipsy.

“Um, this is a hospital, sir. And your name is on the caller ID.”

“Hospital? What hospital.” Myungsoo didn’t stop long enough to think—he could’ve figured it out. He would’ve noticed the damage he’d created throughout these times, if not for the little amount of alcohol in his system.

“It’s passed visiting hours anyway, sir. I’m afraid I’ll have to hang up on-”

“No, wait. I-I wanted to ask her manager out for coffee but I don’t have her number. You said she’ll be dropping by tonight?” Myungsoo fibbed and waited as the line went silent for a thoughtful second. He may be just a bit drunk but alcohol didn’t make him completely stupid. A few seconds passed as he listened and an accomplished grin made its way to his flushed face. “Okay, thanks a lot. I’ll make sure to get there before she reaches. Building two, fifth floor, you say?”

#

“Tell us already what happened, Sungjong. Why are you so scared?” Woohyun grumbled as he watched the maknae who now seated himself on a different seat. Hoya was still scrolling through Myungsin’s playlist, slight frown evident enough to make Sunggyu frown too.

Sunggyu did try taking that thing away from the younger but well, apparently that didn’t work out.

“Who says he’s scared? He’s probably embarrassed or something.” Hoya muttered, eyes not even giving any of them a glance.

Sunggyu turned to stare at the maknae, who kept silent looking everywhere else but at them. His cheeks were pink tinted, the oldest shot a questioning gaze at Woohyun wondering if he had noticed too.

“What’s there to be embarrassed about? We all know you like Myungsoo and everything so…” Woohyun elaborated, trying to ease whatever worry Sungjong currently had. The youngest quickly looked down at his lap, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Sunggyu kicked Woohyun’s shin under the table before he could open his mouth again. This wasn’t it. But before Sunggyu could even think of opening his own between the pathetic whine of Woohyun, Hoya had already cut them off.

“So you don’t like Myungsoo? Who is it then, Sungjong. Is it Myungsin?” Hoya sighed, still staring at the metallic device. Everybody went silent. Woohyun glanced at the stiff Sungjong to Sunggyu, then to Hoya and then Sunggyu again. Did Hoya know something or was he just being a prick? “Say something. If not, then I’m going to assume Lee Sungjong is in love with Lee Sungyeol.”

Woohyun was convinced Hoya was indeed being a prick, but with one warning glare from Sunggyu he remained frozen. Nobody moved. Sunggyu couldn’t even hear anybody’s breath, not even his own. His heart beating was the only indication that the time hadn’t completely stopped—just the four of them.

“Okay. So what happened before Myungsoo found you with Sungyeol? Myungsoo found you guys in the dressing room didn’t he?” Woohyun could’ve sworn Hoya may have just been talking on the phone with an invisible bluetooth earpiece or something—but he knew better. He wondered if Hoya would notice anything if the three of them had left the dining area right at that moment. The dancer might’ve been talking to the stupid iPod for all he knew.

“I… I kissed him.”

All three of them whipped their heads towards Sungjong’s slouched form. He seemed so small all of a sudden.

“You what?” Sunggyu asked, eyes narrowing. Woohyun, although shocked, was sane enough to kick the older from under the table. Sunggyu quickly cleared his throat, eyes still narrowed though, he repeated gentler this time. “You kissed Sungyeol?”

“Does Myungsoo know you were the one who initiated it?” Hoya’s low voice rang out, boring holes into Sungjong’s bowed head.

“It doesn’t matter, really hyung.” Sungjong sighed tiredly, breath trembling just a bit.

“Of course, it matters! Then Myungsoo could’ve hit you instead.” Woohyun quickly responded and Sunggyu was about to aim a hard kick to the other vocal’s knee when Sungjong’s movements distracted him. He raked his thin fingers through his hair before covering his face with both hands. But not before Sunggyu noticed how utterly red the maknae’s face was.

“Myungsoo could’ve, but he didn’t. We were too- I mean,” Sungjong sighed exasperatedly, he quickly launched up from his seat making Woohyun cowered without even meaning to. Anyone with brains could see Sungjong was embarrassed. Sunggyu saw Hoya cough behind his clenched fist, but he could clearly see the younger trying to stifle laughter. Suddenly the atmosphere was ten times lighter and the leader couldn’t help but let a smile slip past.

“Okay, okay. We get it. No need to get so heated, kid. Even if I’m a million times hotter than your Sungyeol-”

“Hyung!” Sungjong exclaimed, wide eyes glaring daggers at Hoya. If looks could kill, Sunggyu thought.

“Sit down, or we’ll make you recount that whole make out session.” The dancer ordered playfully, enjoying Sungjong’s flustered expression. “Was Sungyeol really good? After seeing him from the drama and all I was surprised too. I mean you must’ve-”

“er.”

“Maknae sit down. Hoya apologise.” Sunggyu snapped, albeit the amused smile threatening to graze his lips. Sungjong plopped back down, crossing his arms over his chest defensively as he waited.

“But he called me, er-” An empty box of tissue hit itself against Hoya’s head, followed by a giant wad of used tissues.

“You asked for it!” Woohyun laughed, clapping at his own accurate aim.

At that second, Sunggyu was sure they’d eventually figure everything out and Infinite would be fine again. So they let themselves relax just a bit that evening—something they hadn’t done in a long time. Because for the first time Sunggyu began believing his own words. The words he had once told Sungyeol a million years ago—things would really get better, just like how Sunggyu had promised.