you can't believe that it's turned out this way. that's what you chant, at three o'clock in the morning, on a gloomy sunday, when there's rain pounding on the windows, the tv softly playing in the room opposite to add to the drowning effect -

and you think, when did everything start to fall? you didn't see the way he looked at you, like something had changed - briefly and suddenly, so small that you hadn't even noticed it yet yourself.

you hate it. you hate the way that he looked at you, the way he taunts you, the way that everything has seemed to shatter yet at the same time build itself up in the best way possible.

you think back to how it was before this. before the debut. before the fans. before the ships, before the skinship moments, before the contract was signed that would change your life forever.

and just. you love the boys. your boys. you really do. you may not be the leader (which, given, jaebum is a much better leader than you would've ever been. try as you might, you're not as affectionate, not as dependent, not as helpful to the other members as you could've - should've been), but you try, and they all know that.

(sometimes you wonder if they need you in the group at all).

you shake your head, soft tufts of straight, dyed bleach blonde hair falling into your eyes. your body is aching, your heart pounding, and if he wasn't here to keep you steady, then you know that you would've been lost a while ago, completely gone from reality.

while he keeps you steady, he also keeps you unbalanced. on your toes. he may not be the most wild and courageous person ever, but he keeps you where you need to be - something that even you yourself aren't exactly sure of nowadays.

he keeps you locked to actuality, whenever and wherever that might be - at the dorm, at the studio, wherever the hell life decides to drag and carry you to.

and it's just. he's always there. he's a constant in your life that you've had since the groups debuting days, and even before that. you trained together, worked hard together, ate well together whenever possible.

you know each other's families, of school and accomplishments. of friends that were, of passions and dreams that may or may not still exist, of likings and dislikings - there is not one thing that you can think of that you don't know about each other.

keeping that in mind, it's strange how much you're aware of this enigma of a person. he's so different from you, such an opposite that it's a shock that you two became such good friends in the first place.

he's so quiet, yet his presence is loud. if there's one thing that mark is it's contradictory, yet you find that you don't mind at all. this piece of information is what makes mark mark, your best friend, your ally in the group.

the one person that you can always rely on, no matter what.

so when he cradles you in his arms, the feeling shaky and unkempt, you can't help but look into his eyes - those perfect, dark clouded eyes that don't shine nearly as much as they used to.

(you deserve the world, you want to say. but i already have you, is his unspoken reply).

it's not the same thing. you know that this is just in the spur of the moment, that in the morning this will all go back to usual. you'll go back to the studio with the others, go back to playing pretend, go back to being grateful that these opportunities are what you've been given the chance with - which really, you are; eternally grateful for what you've given the chance to do. but

you're so tired of it already, and the comeback it still months away.

life as an idol never stops. you may get breaks every now and then, but this life isn't meant to be a light switch, an 'on' and 'off'. you love making music, but not feeling like there's no space, no oxygen left to breathe.

that's not what you signed up for.

but yet, somehow it was. and you knew that. but you still went for it, your dream overtaking any other emotion and inkling of common sense that you possessed at that meeting so long ago.

it's not like you regret your decision. you love what's come from the signing - the debut - you love the group, the other boys that are always there with you through anything and everything.

you love the fans that are always there, loving and supporting the seven of you, some from the very beginning, some not - it doesn't matter.

you wouldn't be here without them.

and even though things might get tiring and mundane sometimes, you love that there are other people there to encourage and relate to you.

you sigh, tucking your head into his shoulder, breathing in the scent that is so mark - lilac mixed with a hint of vanilla, something so comforting that you find your eyes falling second after second.

you feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and for a moment, you feel at home.

~

it isn't fair. the way that he looks at you, the way that he holds you so tightly, so protectively, almost as if he's afraid that if he lets you go, you'll shatter. and you want to tell him, to say that you're not a damn doll, that you won't break simply because he lets you go.

but you also want to tell him to stay, to hold you so tightly that you won't ever have to be without him. you love the way that he makes you feel watched over, like you have someone to take care of you for once, and not the other way around.

(just hold me tight, and never let go, you want to say. isn't that what i always do anyway? is his unspoken response).

it isn't fair. you feel as if you're not good enough for him, that you can't give him the love that he rightfully deserves - and after everything that you've been through together, you find yourself wondering how you think that way in the first place.

logical thinking hasn't always been your forte. you tend to go off of spontaneous thoughts, which is evident through interviews and live broadcasts alike. always the first one to joke or make an unnecessary silly comment, always the first to lighten the mood as much as possible if the moment goes south.

mark is much better at reasoning. he thinks things through, quickly and easily accessing the situation, something that you've admired about him since you met all of those years ago. he's so good at reading people, especially when it comes to you.

you swear that sometimes he can see into your soul. or that he can read your mind. either way, he knows way too much of how your feeling and thinking constantly.

in a way, this scares you. in another, this brings a comfort that you cannot even begin to explain.

~

you are nineteen, and he's twenty. you're just two broken boys in seoul, waiting, waiting until the moment that your lives are signed away forever.

a week from now, is what your manager has told you.

the 16th of January.

you look at him, the way that his hands shake briefly, his eyes focused on the night surrounding you. it's dark, the stars punctuating the night with their bright continuations.

you wonder if he thinks about what you're both giving up. in a week, just in seven days that now seem like an eternity, neither of you will ever get this simple freedom again. you still can't decipher whether that's a good thing or not. and you're excited, yet you're scared, unsure, unwilling to put much thought into what will change between now and then. everything is going so perfectly, you don't want change. but this is your dream. you knew that everything had to be put on the line if you wanted this to work.

so you came to this foreign land two and a half years ago, chasing a dream that was unconfirmed, tentative in every way possible. you met him, and everything seemed to click. he's skilled, so talented that you yourself are shocked that he can't see himself in the way that you do.

he's meant for this. to be a star. an idol. he can go far and wide with what he does, no matter what it may be. he shines in an atypical, tranquil form, not even noticing the effect that he has on you. (and soon to be millions of others, you're absolutely sure of it).

he looks over at you, and you see the burning longing in his eyes. you know that you share the same dream. you know that you want the same things. but the way that he's looking at you makes you want to latch onto him, to stay in this moment forever.

your hands are loosely tied together, his warmth radiating off of his body and onto yours. you want to tell him everything that you've thought of while sitting there, but you can't bring yourself to speak. just simply being with him is enough.

but when he opens his mouth to share with you his self doubts, his voice laced with insecurities of what's to come, you have to shush him, to say something that will stop his unneeded, untrue ramblings.

"i'm ordinary. i'm not good enough."

the words make your heart shatter, and you look at him with such an intensive, passionate look that you wonder if you even need to say anything at all. but you do, because mark is mark, and you will try to protect and comfort him no matter what.

"you're magnificent. extraordinary. you're going to take this world by storm, i know it."

his eyes flicker, his mouth pulls up at the sides, and soon enough you're both smiling at each other. you know that you've said the right thing.

you watch as the sun begins to rise, shocked that the both of you spent the whole night out on the roof of the dorm. for some reason it doesn't occur to you to be concerned about how tired you're going to be later, of how difficult choreography is going to be to keep up with, or of how long you're going to have to sit in the makeup chairs as the stylist noonas try to cover up your bags and fatigue.

you got to spend time with the one person that you want to spend forever with, and that's all that can seem to matter to you. and you continue to sit on the roof, the sun beckoning the beginning of a new day, a new life, and you shake your head, a soft sigh on your lips.

when he looks at you in question, the only thing that you can think to say is

"it's the end."

his laugh is breathless, his purely white, striking smile on full display. he holds your hand closer to his, and just as easily replies

"jackson, it's just the beginning."

~

the debut stage is everything and nothing like you expected it to be. the lights are bright, the cameras on high definition, watching your every move.

and as you stand there, the nerves that you were doing such a good job at controlling are now on hyper drive, and all you can feel is the pressure. the undying reality of all of this, the constant thoughts of what if, what if. and he knows. it's so ridiculous how well he knows.

he catches your attention effortlessly, and all that you have to do is look at him for a moment to feel calm again. this dependency is not what rattles you, what does is the simple fact that he's become such an important part of your life so quickly, so aimlessly, that now you cannot imagine your life without him.

~

his rapping makes you feel alive. his singing makes you feel astonished. his laughter makes you feel content, almost as if nothing could ever possibly put you in harms way. his mindless chatter as you two are bickering back and forth about something makes you feel trusted, as odd as that may sound. 

his fluent, well flowing english makes your heart stop - and really, no matter what language he's speaking, every syllable that pours from his lips sound delightful, even if he has to stumble over his words every so often. 

his looks are indescribable, to the point of which you've questioned whether he's actually a human being or not. no one can look this flawless all of the time, it's not possible. but there he is, shining in his inhuman fashion, even in the less dressed of outfits; he could be in unflattering sweats, a big over sized jacket hanging off of his body, ratty and torn shoes laced onto his feet - and you would still swear that he is the most beautiful thing that you've ever seen.

he's so perfect that he makes you feel small, so utterly ordinary when you stand next to him.

you're proud of everything that he's accomplished. whether it be something small, or something big, every little action is taken into consideration. you love when he smiles after getting a dance move down correctly, or when he sings his part onstage perfectly balanced and blended, or when he's simply dancing and singing along to the radio on a day off, his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyes lit up with the happiness and prosperity that he deserves -

no matter when or where, you always love his smile. 

he deserves to have that look on him for the rest of his life.

~

the memories hit you like a freight train, and suddenly you're pulled back to the present day, where you're still in his hold, the of the clock near the window sill 'tick tick'ing away the limited time that you have together.  

suddenly all that you can think of is the happiness that you've been through together, and you figure that that is enough. you don't need to be in everlasting bliss, you've realized that that's not how life works. you take what you can get, in moments that you can, and go for opportunities that you want to (that may or may not change your life forever.)

you're not exactly the sentimental type. you're not good with words. they always seem to trip and fall over you, even in the most needed of times. but you've noticed that sometimes silence is needed to fill the void, and in some situations, silence seems to work the same trick just as well as words can.

so when he whispers you name, somewhere in between drowning and taking the time to simply breathe, you look up, and when you see the same eye crinkling smile reach across his face as before everything started to fall, you feel shocked. 

and happy.

and confused. 

your emotions have never balanced each other out, no matter what was influencing them. you've learned to just roll with it. feeling everything all at once is better than feeling nothing at all. (you'd like to think, anyway).

"I love you."

and it's not like he hasn't said these words before. you've heard them plenty of times. but now, now it seems to hold a different meaning. 

something has shifted, and while you're not exactly sure of the consequences, or of what's yet to come, you are forever unlimited to expectations that the world has seemed to offer you. 

he doesn't mean them in the same way that you do. but you can't help yourself from smiling back at him, reaching forward to clasp your hand within his, pulling your bodies together in a firm hold that you were sure at one point was going to be unbreakable. 

you say the words in return, hushed and quiet, although you know that your true feelings aren't fully returned. he doesn't seem to notice, just hums into your hair, closing his eyes willfully, seemingly the picture of absolute happiness. 

when he looks at you, he sees the stars. when you look at him, you see the whole galaxy.  

this doesn't bother you. you're perfectly okay with what the two of you have, this messy, uncontrolled bond that you've maintained since the very beginning. you're not going to blame him because of what's happened, because you've both been in the wrong. everything is okay now, and after a while, you begin to think (again) that everything will always be okay if you just have him by your side. 

after all, it's not his fault that the stars aligned differently within him than they aligned within you.