d o n g h a e

"Lee Donghae, they announced it!" Minjae shouts into the phone as soon as I pick up her call, uncharacteristically loud and making me flinch.

"What now?" I say groggily. I haven't slept in over 24 hours. My hurts from sitting here editing photos all day long in crunch time. I'm tired and irritated, functioning from coffee to coffee.

Again, Minjae is calling instead of texting, so that means she has important information. That and I haven't checked my phone basically all day, so she probably already texted me but got tired of waiting for me to text back.

"Extra fansign dates."

I slump on my desk. She's releasing the info little by little, which means the important info must be a surprise at the end. On the rare good mood days when she does this it's usually just fun, but I really am not in the mood to go along with her mischief. It's not like I have a lot of time to spare either; if I do I would be asleep.

"Okay, look, I know you're trying to build up my hype, but I've been powering through here at the studio editing photos and I'm a huge bundle of frustration so—"

"Get to the point?"

"Preferably."

"You're going to meet Hyukjae."

I—

RIP, my pristine studio floor. I spat coffee all over it. Thank God I missed my computer and photo sets by inches, but still. I curse loudly as I look at the heinous crime scene of brown puddle and keep in mind that I'll have to make her pay for that later.

I'm still coughing when I put the phone back to my ear. "Okay. That's too to the point. Tell me the story."

"I was just doing what you asked."

"Story, Eun Minjae, I have a dirty studio floor to clean."

"Fine." She proceeds to tell the story in the flattest tone possible. "I've taken some group orders so I can buy something close to a hundred fifty albums, but I can't make it there on the day. There's that Hong Kong job I told you about. You're going in my place."

A fansign? I bite the insides of my cheek. I've never been to a fansign before. That's more of Minjae's thing. I've never even opened album group orders. The reason being a lot of responsibility is involved in stuff like that, and I'd have to correspond with a lot of strangers... once, when I really needed the money, Minjae coerced me into selling Season's Greetings packages, which admittedly helped my situation a lot, but she ended up doing most of the correspondence work for me. I'm... not good at it.

Fansign. I consider. That would mean some semi-private minutes with Hyukjae... enough for a decent conversation...

But, fansign. Other Jewels will be there. Other fansites will be there. And I would be there alone, without Minjae to calm my nerves, without anyone to help or guide me. Alone being the key word here.

I can feel my heartbeat pacing just from the thought of going through that alone, so without much fighting from my fatigued conscious, my self-defense instincts kick in. It attempts to calm my heart by finding reasons to not attend. "You're confident you'll get in?"

She sighs. "I'm the expert on fansigns here, Donghae, not you."

I sigh, too. "When is that?"

"Eighteenth."

Fingers trembling, I click around on my computer to see my cloud planner. Secretly I hope that I have a really important photoshoot or something—

But no. I'm free. No excuse.

"Where?" I ask her, tone rising.

"Busan."

That's two and a half hours away by train and five hours by bus, the devil inside me points out, and my lips let out a grumpy "Ouch. Too far. Nope."

Minjae doesn't immediately reply. Thinking I probably won't be able to focus now with this in my mind anyway, I indulge in the thought of taking a power nap and return to photoshop in a—

"Yah. Lee Donghae." Her tone is stern. "Are you serious about this or not? I can just give this to someone else if you want. Fine. Not like I have to give it to you or anything."

Oh no. I pissed her off.

Which is not easy. Minjae likes to complain about other people, but when she attacks me directly like this, that means she's terribly upset. It immediately jolts me awake from my half-slumber.

"Whoa. Okay, okay." I feel really guilty. Mood aside, I shouldn't have been so anti-climactic about it when all she wanted to do was help me. Without her support, I probably won't even be able to come this far, and this isn't even a mile away from starting point. "Sorry. I've been awake for twenty-four hours."

"No need to be an to me."

"Yeah, I know, really sorry. So it's in Busan?"

"Oh, you still wanna go?" She keeps jabbing me with her words. I take it silently and willingly. It's what I deserve.

The answer comes out of my mouth with less thought put in it than I would prefer, but angry impatient Minjae is terrifying. "Okay, I'll go. I'll take photos for Minus while I'm there. Okay?"

"Hell no, Donghae, they'd murder you. Just treat me something nice. I'll follow you up later."

She hangs up.

I let out a long, guttural breath, slamming my phone on the desk. That was super stupid of me. Hope she won't stop supporting me through this whole... Hyukjae debacle because of this. I gotta control myself to stop this crap from happening again; I already know that I can't do this without her support.

Although I've made up my mind about Hyukjae and the point still stands, the premise of having a conversation with him still freaks me out. Will I know what to say and do? The probability of me embarrassing myself is sky high especially without anyone to help me there. I'm completely on my own.

Then again, what good will just seeing him in concerts do? Especially after I've abruptly closed Silver Rain. To even be remotely close to Hyukjae, I'd have to be in the front rows again, bodies pressed with Jewels and fansites who I'd have to deal with. A fansign would be the perfect opportunity to take things a step further.

Geez, as if I really can take a step further with him. What "step further" am I hoping for? Things can't progress that much in just five minutes or under.

I'm too tired to think, I decide. I also decide that I'm too tired and disturbed to properly edit photos, so I turn my PC off and head to the couch to take a power nap, the pillow hitting my head being the most pleasant sensation.

The last thing I think of before drifting away is how nice it would be if I have more than just five minutes with him, if I have an hour with him, a day with him, a lifetime with him.

This is where and how I end up:

Seated in between excited Jewels, their feet shaking with nerves. Hair stuffed in beanie, glasses perched on nose, face half-covered by mask. Girls peeking at me every five seconds thinking there's a celebrity under cover. Endless noise of camera shutters in my ears. Occasional screams accompanying.

Racing heartbeat. Hyper-aware of my blinking. Eyes darting everywhere. Sweaty palms. An album, inside them.

And Hyukjae, in the room, right there. Just some fifty steps away. On a raised platform. Behind a counter. Smiling brightly. Pen in his hand.

I'm not sure if I like this or hate this, but I'm trying really hard to like this. Attempting to find interesting things to help me enjoy the situation, I check the room out. My eyes briefly skim the row of fansites in front. I see people I recognize, but I'm really quite glad I'm stuck here at the back instead of mingling with them. They'd freak out once they notice that I'm attending a fansign, out of all things.

As a result of me not attending fansigns, I don't have fansign photos like everyone else, so they usually try and take their best photos here to compete with me. I don't really care or mind. I prefer concert photography anyway. Besides, I would rather avoid being in awkward situations with Hyukjae.

Which reminds me that I'm minutes away from having an awkward situation with Hyukjae. .

My eyes can't stop darting all over the place. In its haphazard path, it passes the sight of a sincerely smiling Hyukjae, making my heart skip a beat and instinctively look away. Then, my eyes dart all over the place again. And they see Hyukjae again. And again. And again.

Eventually, I escape the vicious cycle by planting my head in my palms. I stay like that until the noona in front says "next person please!" and I hear rustle from beside me.

She's standing up. That means I'm next.

My heart feels like it's about to pop out of my chest. I look around to see how everyone else is handling the nerves and I spot some people quietly rehearse what they're going to say up front, so I try to copy them. But then I realize: I have not prepared anything. Or have I? Either I haven't, or I have, but no words come to mind, nothing—

"Next person please!"

Kill me, I'm dead.

My feet wobble when I stand. I want to walk as slowly as possible, but everyone else is fast so I'm forced to match their pace. And then I'm in the line going up. Only when I'm already up front do I take off my mask, and I can feel it tremble against my cheek. I crumple and stuff it into my pocket.

He's so close, so close. He's right there. Barely some feet away from me. Some heart stickers decorate his cheeks. On his nose is perched a pair of hollow golden-framed vintage glasses, and on his head he has a pair of white bunny ears. Bracelets and necklaces of all kinds also decorate his wrists and neck, all gifts from fans that Hyukjae has always liked wearing.

Little monkey dolls sit on his table and I count them one by one to distract myself. One, two, three—

The shadow on the dolls leaves, meaning the girl standing in front has also left. Four, five, six—

They usher me to walk, and I can barely feel my legs. For once I thought the dolls are coming to me rather than me walking to them. Seven, eight, they are getting closer, nine—

"Hi."

The dolls are here.

He is here.

Hyukjae's actual skin is even more of a noticeable milky white, smooth and flawless. I'm so close to him I can even distinguish the strands of his fluffy black hair, falling down to cover his forehead, looking like they would be of the perfect lightness to run your hand over.

My fingers twitch at the thought.

"Your album?" I hear from in front of me, and yeah. It's already happening. Great start, Lee Donghae.

"O-Oh right," I stammer, but I try to look as collected as possible when I give him the album. Even though all my insides are twisting and squeezing and mixing and churning. Hyukjae laughs, low and rumbling and beautiful, and he's smiling and I can see his gums and teeth and oh god. My thoughts are a mess. I'm a mess.

"Lee Donghae," Hyukjae reads from the post-it I prepared inside, and it's my name but it doesn't feel like my name, it's my name but—

I'm laughing. I'm throwing my head back and I'm laughing. I don't know why. But this whole situation just makes me want to laugh, so I do. I think of several things: that I'm being so embarrassing right now it's ridiculous. That everyone is watching. That they've all probably recognized me by now—Hyukjae, too.

Hyukjae. I think of Hyukjae. I think of how embarrassing I am being in front of him. I think of how beautiful he is. I think of how nervous I get just by being this close to him, but also happy. I think of how happy I am being within his arm's reach, and I also think of how pathetic it is to fall in love with this man.

I think of how I already love him.

Yeah. I definitely have fallen in love with him, haven't I? This is wrong. This is foolish, childish, heartbreaking, tragic. Falling in love with him is tragic. Laughable. That's why I'm laughing.

"What's on your mind?" the voice who called my name earlier says. I turn to him. His single-lidded eyes look up at me, gleaming with the reflection of spotlights. It's the same loving eyes he has given to all of the other fans earlier, and I'm a little pissed because I want him to only look at me that way. That isn't possible. I know. I fight the urge to laugh again.

"I'm just laughing at myself," I say. It's the truth. I'm a terrible liar.

Hyukjae looks puzzled, but not freaked out. He laughs again, too. God, stop laughing. I can't handle it.

"And why is that?" he asks, outstretching a hand. He does that to the other girls, too. And all the girls would take his hand and tell him stories.

I don't take his hand, and he's probably noticed how his habit slipped out even though I'm not a girl, so he pulls his hand back. But I guess I can tell him a story.

"I'm in love with someone," I say. I make sure to look into his eyes. The eye contact tickles the urge to cry that I've had for several hours now, but I resist. I'm just gonna make a fool of myself this once, embarrass myself this once, then Hyukjae can just hate me for all I care. I can't be here anyway. It's tragic. But he has to know this first.

I bite my lip, holding in, then I continue. "I've... actually been following h—that person for quite a while. I followed that person everywhere. Not in a stalking way, just..." I clear my throat. "I like taking pictures, so I took pictures of him, but—"

I realize I've let the pronoun slip. Panic surges in me—he'll think I'm gross. He'll think I'm a disgrace to humanity—almost making me laugh again and I babble incomprehensible apologies, but Hyukjae holds up a hand. "Don't worry. But what? What happened?"

I clear my throat again. It's suffocating. Maybe my heart really has risen to clog up my throat.

"Yeah. I stopped doing that. I don't do that anymore."

Hyukjae tilts his head slightly, and it's just a simple gesture but I think it's adorable—gosh. "Why?" he asks with a chuckle. I can't tell if he's really honestly interested or if he's faking it, but something like that comes off from the tone of his voice.

"Because he... he isn't someone I can have." I swallow a rather thick lump, but it doesn't go down. "I don't want to fall too hard for him. He's... too far away. My hand will never touch him."

There it is. I said it. I really said it. He must be stupid to not know that it's about him.

Hyukjae hums, looking really thoughtful, like he really cares about the love problems of this man he just met. This man who is his fan, I correct myself. This is only necessary fanservice. He has to look caring about each and every one of his fans, that much is understandable.

But then Hyukjae asks the magic question: "How are you so sure about that?"

It's that question again. Why is everyone asking that? Isn't it already clear from how this conversation is going?

Isn't it?

And why is he asking me this, of all people? He is the guy in question here. He is the key factor. He is the one who holds the answer. I attempt to search for the answer in his eyes, but I end up squirming under Hyukjae's gaze, forcing me to break eye contact, looking at the wall instead.

"I-I—" I stammer yet again. "I don't know. Honestly, Eunhyuk-ah, I don't—"

The noona behind him signals for me to move along. I almost follow her orders and scurry away, but Hyukjae silently stops her with a hand.

I'm not sure what else to do with the extra time Hyukjae bought me. I look down at my fidgeting hands. I also notice that Hyukjae has outstretched his hand over the counter again.

I take it, because who knows if this will happen again. It's pretty shameless of me, but what can I do. I keep staring at our interlocked hands, taking in the sight, trying to burn them onto my brain like a hot mark.

But then Hyukjae says: "Donghae, look at me."

I do. His eyes still have that really intense lovey-dovey gaze, jerking me away from them. My vision unwillingly focus on the little quirks of his face I have seen so much they're maybe a part of my subconscious: the little crinkles in the corner of his eyes, the round shape of the tip of his nose, his eye bags that double in size once he's in the latter part of promotion periods like now.

"Do you love him that much?" he asks.

I hold back a sob. It's not funny if I cry here. I need to hold it in, just a little bit more.

Without a shade of doubt, I meet his eyes and try to really mean it when I say "I do."

"Well, then." Hyukjae smiles his gummy smile, bouncing our linked hands on the table. "Donghae, I'm—honestly, I at giving advice, but... I, uh, I think you can... trust yourself a lot more. I really do."

I snort. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, you're good-looking, and I'm willing to bet you must be really kind to think like that. You're a loyal guy, too. Speaking from experience. And you're talented, you take beautiful photos..."

He... he just complimented me. 

I bite my lips, trying my best to not let an idiotic lovesick grin appear on my face. That would be very creepy and disturbing and embarrassing. As if I haven't embarrassed myself enough.

Hyukjae flashes his gummy smile again before his hand detaches itself from mine, leaving a residue of warmth that also feels cold.

"What I'm saying is," he uncaps his silver marker and quickly signs, scribbling something under it before closing it in a practiced routine. "You deserve someone who is perfect for you and treats you just as well."

I in a ragged breath, which I disguise as a fake cough.

I know what that means. I completely know what that means. There's an unspoken "else" after that "someone." Someone else.

Warmth starts to collect in my eyes—. I bite my tongue as hard as I can.

Calmly, I receive my album back. I'm smiling, but I think it only makes things worse. It's like I'm back to square one. Grinning and bearing it.

"I hope things work out for you."

I don't reply. I can't. I only smile, because I think that's the only thing I'm physically capable of doing.

"Take care and fighting, Lee Donghae," he says before bidding me farewell with a wave. I mimic the gesture before I walk, away and away and away, speed-walking to the exit and away, not even caring about the photo time later. I need to get out of here.

I nearly lose it. I even consider letting it all out in a bathroom somewhere but think I should at least keep the last of my pride I have left, so I take a cab to the terminal. Nothing comes to mind on the cab ride and nothing comes to mind when I line up to get tickets either. It's a complete blank.

My brain starts functioning in the short, silent and idle ten minutes wait for the next Seoul-bound bus, and the first thing I think of is: Lee Donghae, you should've expected this.

I continue the destructive train of thought on the bus. He pointed at my camera because I was a loyal fansite who's been there since his debut days. He posted my photos on Instagram because he thought my photos are beautiful. He interacted with me as a—

I pull my beanie down, almost covering my whole eyes. It's getting unbearable. I think about sending a text to Minjae but I think I'll need some time to think over this by myself before I tell anyone. I don't want to think about it now, though. I'll mope about it later at home.

Foolish, childish, heartbreaking, tragic.

Thirsty for some reason, I open my bag to get a bottle of water. That's when I also see my album there, sitting so snugly among my other belongings.

I shouldn't do this now, but I pull it out of my bag anyway. Thankfully, the cover is just a simple text on plain blue background, not his photo or anything, so it doesn't trigger an immediate reaction from me.

I leaf through the pages of the photobook. With every photo of him I see comes another squeeze of my heart, but I just need to find the—

There it is. The page with the autograph he gave me. The post it with my name is still there, covering some of the signature and the scribble he did underneath. I pull it away.

And.

I nearly drop my album.

My hands shake and they go up to my heart, which is beating like crazy. Fingers squeeze my shirt, crinkling it ruthlessly and maybe almost tearing the fabric.

Tears are also forced out, no longer able to be held back. The utter shock successfully took out my defense against myself. Although, I try my best to control my sobs. Thankfully, not many people are on the bus yet and no one is next to me either.

Deep breaths. I take deep breaths. Suddenly terrified I misread or that this is all just my imagination, I yank the page open again to check. It's still there.

Written in his silver marker, underneath the signature I am most familiar with, the message is still there and it's real and I can't believe it still and I probably will never.

To: Lee Donghae

I've missed you.

From: Hyukjae, who will always search for you.

I'm back!!! Sorry it took quite a bit. I originally planned for this to be short but I had too much fun...

I hope people will like the development in this chapter. I wanted to get it out as soon as possible, so there'll probably be a lot of problems in here that I'll come back to fix lmao. But! Here it is, in the meantime.

THIS IS THE PART I'M MOST EXCITED ABOUT WRITING AND I'M SO GLAD TO HAVE IT OUT AHHH!!!!!

For the heck of it, I set up a curiouscat account here. Ask away about the fic there if you'd like haha. And here's my twitter too, as always.