MAKE ME SAY THE TRUTH

The sound of his ringtone has always been able to lift his spirits, but lately, Sehun finds himself dreading to hear the melody that Jongin himself has chosen.

His boyfriend is calling and Sehun is anything but happy, although he should, considering their long distance relationship. But - he is not. And because he’s not happy, he doesn’t answer right away but takes a deep breath first, eyes closed, so he can gather strength to put up an act, pretending to be in high spirits.

“Jongin!” He chirps into the phone and is relieved to hear Jongin’s laughter in response.

“You sound way too happy,” Jongin remarks, and the uneasiness is back, although Jongin is just teasing him, saying that he seems more content without Jongin around. Oh, how wrong he is, but Sehun doesn’t have the heart to tell the truth.

“I’m always happy to hear from you, that’s all,” Sehun says and Jongin hums. “I missed you a lot.” That, at least, was no lie.

“How is work?” Sehun asks, before Jongin can ask him anything about the life he is leading now, still in the countryside. He didn’t go to Seoul when Jongin begged him to tag along, he just couldn’t. He had his life here, a path that has already been decided for him. His parents own a tea plantation, and as the only child he is expected to continue the family tradition. Sehun could have rebelled, but one look in his grandfather’s kind eyes and his own eyes moistened. He can’t betray his family, not when he’s been so loved and sheltered.

“The same,” Jongin says, and Sehun can hear it in his voice, how excited he is, the passion never dying down. Because Jongin is the born dancer and the stage was made for him, he belongs to the national ballet, not to some village most people have never heard of.

“And yet, it’s never the same. Everyday, I practice, but although it’s the same routines, it feels different. It’s the small things, the details that makes every show unique, I tell you. I really want you to come here and see it at least once.”

“I wish I could,” Sehun whispers.





As one of the main dancers of the stage production, Jongin’s free time is limited. He has to give interviews sometimes, and because of his handsome face, he has been modeling a bit as well. It’s rare for them to be able to phone each other and hear each other’s voice, and it’s even rarer for them to skype.

“Sehun?”

“Hm?”

The static in the background annoys him somewhat, but this is the best they could do when they miss each other so much they feel barely alive. Sometimes Sehun feels numb, the same way one does after spending a lot of time outside, in the cold. Jongin is his sun, his source of warmth, and not being able to see him has turned Sehun into a barely living human. He works on routine, like a machinery, not a person, but this is still better than-

“Sehunnie, Sehun, what are you thinking about?”

His attention is drawn back to the screen where Jongin’s worried face comes into view.

“You,” Sehun says and grins, but Jongin doesn’t buy it. He’s more attentive today and more quiet, too, not talking as much as usual. It makes the whole situation more awkward for Sehun who tenses up despite his efforts to display a happy, cheerful side.

“And you look very pale and sickly, too,” Jongin says quietly.

“That’s because of the bad lighting and the camera,” Sehun says sweetly. At least he tries to sound sweet, but he’s not sure if he managed. He’s numb, he can’t tell.

“Have you been eating well? Should I take a vacation and come home?”

“I’m fine,” Sehun reassures. “Really, it’s just the lighting.”





“How long are you going to keep this up?”

Sehun keeps quiet. He doesn’t owe anyone an answer, least of all Chanyeol, although he knows he should be grateful for his friend to care so much. He doesn’t want Chanyeol to care though. In that aspect, their relation