How many summers has it been?

Jinri wonders as she stands as one of the hundreds with glowing pearl aqua lightsticks in hand, waving enthusiastically to the beat. Unlike everyone, Jinri stands in her own solitude with her thoughts and eyes focused on him, recognizing him both as a friend, a colleague and someone she doesn’t quite know anyone.

It’s been 12 summers.

Sulli comes out when she’s dragged backstage after the show which brings out familiar faces and they all tell her the same thing: it’s been a while. She smiles, simply agrees and moves onto the next person, circling around the room, pretending like he’s not the center of it all, like he’s not the only voice she’s listening to while her cheeks burn from forcing out the smiles that Sulli is known for.

She sticks herself in conversations she doesn’t care about like who’s dating who within the company and album preparations and whatnot so she doesn’t have to talk to him and pretend like they’re still the same people they once were. Maybe he still is, he never changes but as for Jinri, change is what she’s currently known for. Within seconds her image of the innocent, girl-next-door was shattered and Jinri honestly didn’t really try to fix it because it’s better not to have expectations to live up to.

“Sulli-shi.”

Jinri turns, masking a surprised expression when one of the SM photographers calls out for her.

“It looks we got a picture with everyone who attended except you,” he says, holding his camera as he motions for a photo. “Why don’t we get a quick shot.”

Her lips begin parting to decline because nobody wants to see her beside him, not even their company because of the fact that Sulli has become overshadowed by Jinri and nobody likes the person that Jinri is but someone beats her to it.

“Hyung, it’s okay.”

Jinri looks to Taemin who was stepping up to them with the warmth of the stage adrenaline still radiating off of him. He spares the photographer the smallest glance before returning his whole, undivided attention to her with a gaze so familiar it makes her chest burn.

“I heard you weren’t feeling too well,” he says (lies). “I’m glad you came still.”

She’s so into his gaze, it takes Jinri a hard second before she finally realizes what he’s doing for her sake. “Oh,” Jinri quietly clears . “Yeah. It’s just a cold. You know, with the weather changing and all.”

“Ah, sorry to hear,” the photographer says regretfully. “Hopefully you get well soon. Maybe next time when you’re feeling better.”

“Y-yeah,” Jinri nods. “Definitely.”

With that said, he dismisses himself to photograph the NCT boys, leaving the two ex-lovers alone for the first time in months. The facade falls from his face and Jinri looks away because she can’t bare to look at him any longer.

“Nice seeing you again, Sulli.”

Her heart falls into the pit of her stomach and it churns uncomfortably. He doesn’t call her Jinri anymore.

“I hope you enjoyed the show.” Taemin nods once, proceeds to stuff his hands into his pockets then begins to walk away like the current mystery that he is to her.

“You were great,” she manages to say and he stops but doesn’t look back. “Really, great.” She’s sincere about it but Jinri can’t tell if he really believes her or not.

He turns his head enough for her to catch the corner of his lips curling into the smallest smile before disappearing behind a pair of thick, red velvet curtains. Even with him gone, his presence still lingers and Jinri feels that if she reaches out, she might even be able to grasp him but what right does she have to do that when she was the one who left him first.

///

Everything is cold to the touch when Jinri arrives at the company late one night. It’s been too long since she’s last been in one of the practice rooms and it feels odd really, almost like the place has turned its back on her for leaving it behind. She hears him all the way from down the hall, belting out every single note of the song like his life depended on it. Jinri takes a seat outside the door and leans back against the wall to give her a false sense of being closer to him. He sings about a returning to a love that he didn’t understand until it was already too late and being that he use to love her, Jinri wonders if he ever thinks about her when he sings these types of songs. Could she be the reason behind the pain in his voice?

Sulli is too much to live up to while Jinri is a disappointment. There was a time when they were both the same person but Jinri doesn’t want to admit she ed up so she bites her tongue, closes her eyes and lets him take her back to simpler times. He brings her back to hot summers in a room with clouds for wallpaper and the familiar squeaking of worn out sneakers on laminate floors. The faint sounds of laughter and cries weave through his song and echo in the pit of her chest.

She doesn’t notice he’s stopped singing because Jinri is so wrapped up in the comforting warmth of the past until the door slides open and he steps out to discover her sitting quietly by herself. Jinri watches in silence as he takes a few steps away to take a seat at the opposite end of the door frame. His shoulders slump against the wall and Jinri is almost sure it’s because of her.

“What are you doing here?”

Jinri bites on her lip, a habit she hates but needs for comfort. “I suddenly miss it,” she pauses. “Did I give up too fast?”

Taemin pushes his knees up to set both his elbows on them. “Did you hear the song?”

Jinri shoots him a confused look before she registers his question. “Oh. Yeah. It’s a nice song. Sad, painful, but beautiful.”

“It’s funny you use those words,” he says with a subtle smirk on his lips. “They’re the same exact words used to describe the person behind the song.” Taemin looks at her with exhaustion clinging onto his eyebags and dragging them down to his chin. “If you’re wondering, you’re correct. It’s you.”

She looks away and lets her hair fall as a curtain between them, as if they needed anymore distance between the gaping distance between them now.

After a suffocating moment of silence, Taemin speaks up again.

“No,” he says and she looks at him, confused. “Referring to your question earlier. No. You were unhappy.”

She’s unconvinced. “I’m not happy now either.”

Taemin heaves a loud sigh. “You want me to tell you something?” It’s more of a statement than an actual question. “You’re not going to like it, knowing you.”

“Then don’t tell me.”

“No. That’s the problem,” Taemin’s gaze darkens