Junsu
[5/5]

Untitled thougths part. 1

-  tomorrow  -

Junsu had never thought that a laugh could hurt so much, but while he’s watching an old reality in the big villa in Jeju, something tightens around his heart and makes his lips tremble and his eyes wet. The smile he sees printed on his old self surprises him and he almost doesn’t recognize himself in those chubby cheeks and in that warm voice that now enchantes the public. Some seconds pass before a voice joins his and then another and another one until they create a perfect harmony that gives him the strenght he needs to reach the higher notes, the special ones.
While the song is getting to an end, the audience stands up and claps for their exihibition which left the whole studio close to tears.
There is an awkward feeling moving inside his chest and Junsu doesn’t have the strenghts to lie anymore: it’s nostalgia.
He has always felt it, even when they moved the first steps from that home that had promised them fielty, but that had treated them like slaves, that had tricked them with futile lies.

At the beginning he was convinced it was something temporary, something time would have healed, sewing the skin where it was ripped. But time hasn’t done its job and wounds are still open and they still hurt, so damn much.
At the beginning he believed it was because of the novelty, of the sudden reality he found himself be dragged into, so strange, so incompatible.
But now he has finally realised what it is, what is that lack he has always felt inside but avoided to protect himself. 
The emptiness he’s now feeling is unmistakable and even Jaejoong’s sweet words wouldn’t fill it.
Jaejoong, he lies too.
He lies at night when he thinks his moans are hidden by the obscurity, as if the darkness could cover everything, even sounds; maybe he truly believes that, but the confidence he wears is nothing more than a mask and sooner or later he will have to take it down.
And even Yoochun lies.
He lies during the day when he thinks people are less careful, their looks less inquisitorial; maybe he truly believes that, but his hands are always so insecure and his eyelids tremble before singing.
Junsu used to lie but he was probably the one who lied the least, because deep inside he knew that memories would have always been there, staring at him, waiting for him.

And Junsu, now, doesn’t know in which illusion fall into; he doesn’t even know if it is worth to keep on lying or if it would be better to finally face that pain they have being hiding for so long. That pain that was the only evidence of what they had been and of what they would have wanted to keep on being.
A little meow distracts him from his thoughts and only now does he realise that he has been holding his breath; he inhales the fresh air of that sunny afternoon, relaxing on the leather counch. He takes the little tiger kitten and brings him on his lap, caressing him, while a pair of dark eyes stares back at him, telling him that there is no meaning in holding back.
Let it go, they scream, cry, they whisper.

Junsu doesn’t know how he manages to get on a stage, alone, a pink shade on his hair and a familiar melody on his lips. He remembers, however, the surprise on his mates’ faces when they heard him rehearsing and the songs he was singing were the same they used to sing.
He remembers Jaejoong’s fear and Yoochun’s doubts, but Junsu doesn’t feel like lying anymore, Junsu moves on, and the old ballads have a new taste now: as melancholic as newly incredibly warm.
Words flow on their own and there is a moment in which emotions are too much for his heart, so overwhelmed: he lets go and cries, choking on some words and listening to the fans keeping the rhythm in his place.
Time stops, reevoking long forgotten smiles and he truly hopes that the others will be able to follow him, to move on.
Closing the past and opening a new future.

Because Junsu knows it now: their future promises a clear sky.