It had been close two years since it all happened; the drama. . .the lawsuit. . .the split down the middle. it had take a toll on all five men, breaking them emotionally, mentally, and physically in ways that seemed unexplainable to anyone but themsevles. Yet, they had no choice but to move forward with a smile, hiding their pain in their hearts and in their eyes.

There he sat: in front of a piano, eyes closed, notebook on the sheet stand, and fingers elegantly gliding across the piano keys as he recalled the events of the past. The good, the ugly, the beautiful, the bad, the happy, and the heartbreaking. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the melody he played only relaying his inner feeling outward.

"Junsu-yah. . .?"
 "Hmm?" he responded, the noise being a replacement for the voice he lost when he sat down to actually think about it all, his fingers still playing the dreadfully melancholic melody.
"Are you okay?"
"Mn. . ."
"The melody you're playing speaks otherwise."
"Jaejoong. . .this melody is melancholy compared to my feelings."
"There is no difference between sadness and melancholy," Yoochun said softly. "That's where you're wrong."
"Eh?" both males raised an eyebrow in question as they gazed at him.
"Melancholy is sadness that has taken on lightness," he said barely inaudible as he opened his eyes and gazed up at his hyungs.

It was those words that ended that conversation, his words lingering in the air and weighing down all three males as if reality had finally struck it's cord and they realized the impact of these last two years. Reality wasn't what they lived most of the time and when reality hit, it hit them hard. He chuckled softly, a bitter chuckle of resentment, mostly towards himself before he began to play again. He'd play late into the night and into the next morning until he remembered who he was and what he was. Another smile, another fake emotion, another tear held back because this is how life was for a celebrity, pain was nothing and faking was everything.

It had been almost two long years of pain, sadness, and loneliness. It was a pain that would continue to fester until the mind and heart felt resolved. And as he played his beautiful, melancholy melody. . .the pain and heartache of these three men surfaced as tears.

"There is no grief like the grief that does not speak." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 「19th Century American Poet」



Comments, criticism, and love are welcomed♥  ―Takashima yasuhiro/--koroa