JONGIN’S LAUGH ECHOES IN IN THE ENTIRE ROOM. The surround sound of the speaker is not enough to match the volume of his laughter, or the way it seems to bounce off the wall of Soojung’s apartment. Even throughout the years that passed, he is still filled with the same youthful glow he had back when they were teenagers. It’s visible on the very trace of the smile lines on his face, and the crinkle on his nose when he smiles. But the most admirable thing about Jongin and his laughter is the way it seems to rub off onto the next person. 

From beside Soojung, Eunhee is laughing along with her father. Her lips are stretched out into a huge smile and her body follows along with her laughter. The seven-year-old looks like she could be bouncing off the couch in amusement that is amplified by her father’s. 

Seeing her daughter that happy reinforces a sense of guilt back to Soojung. It’s one thing to be able to admit to what she had done wrong, but it’s also another to be able to forgive herself for what she had put Eunhee and Jongin through because of her foolish decisions. 

The idea that she already knows what’s best for herself and her daughter at eighteen is an idea that she should have never cultivated. Maybe Soojung had been in love with the idea of independence. The notion that she would never need anyone to help her out in her daughter’s life sounded like those dramas she watched where she admired the female leads for being able to keep up with all of the struggles. 

She had been foolish. In a fit of trying to prove something to herself, she ended up hurting more people than she wanted to. 

The sound of the key turning in the lock steals Soojung’s attention from her daughter. She turns her head just enough to see who’s entering the door, and it doesn’t really faze her that it’s Taemin who enters.

“Hey Jungie I brought chicken!” He lifts up the two plastic bags containing the fried chicken with a wide grin on his face just before he turns to lock the door from behind him. “Oh… hey Jongin!” Taemin adds when he finally notices the presence of the other man in the room. 

“Taemin, hey.” Jongin greets, and his gaze shifts back to Soojung.

Without even trying, Soojung knows that the look on Jongin’s face is confusion. That somehow seeing Taemin entering her home with a key is a situation that he couldn’t quite understand. But even then, it’s a situation that Soojung feels as though she doesn’t really have to explain to Jongin at all. 

“What made you come over with chicken?” Soojung asks and takes one of the bags to bring to the kitchen. 

“Well it’s been a while since I was able to hang out with you and Eunhee… and Jongin now, I guess. So it felt like the right thing to do.” Taemin shrugs as he follows her into the kitchen. 

Soojung understands the sentiments and welcomes it altogether. Although she feels like it’s Taemin who’s been carrying most of the effort when it comes to their friendship instead of the two of them carrying equal weights. Sometimes she wishes that she’d done more for him, instead of allowing him to pour all the effort and heart in their friendship. 

“Oh by the way, Jungie. I got you something.” Taemin proceeds to pull out a toothbrush from the small bag she didn’t even notice he carried. 

“What’s this for?” Soojung looks at him, taking the toothbrush as he hands it out to her.

“The last time I was here and saw you brushing your teeth, I remember that you complained about the bristles of the old brush and how it made your gums bleed. I didn’t want you to keep on using it.” Taemin shrugs off the effort, like he didn’t just remember a menial detail of her life that even she didn’t realize until now. 

Soojung’s gaze lingers on Taemin. He’d always been there for her, like a guiding light ready to bring her out of the dark. Some days she convinces herself that he’s the moon to her sky. A light shining in the darkness, ready to bring her back to where she came from, and ready to show her the way to where she’s meant to be. 

“Thanks, Taemin.” She smiles, even if her smile isn’t enough to express the gratitude she felt for him. 

“It’s no problem, really.” He smiles again and makes his way to the kitchen cupboards, bringing out the bowls so he could place the chicken there. 

Another thing Soojung had noticed with Taemin is how he feels like he’s right at home whenever he’s over. He has her and the interior of her apartment memorized, like he could find his way around in the dark if it came to it. 

Her gaze on Taemin lingers for longer than it should and is only broken by a phone call from her sister. 

“Hold on. I gotta take this.” She excuses herself from the kitchen, but not before sparing Taemin another glance as she disappears into her office. 

\

TAEMIN HAD NEVER BEEN A STRANGER IN SOOJUNG'S APARTMENT. It’s a place she’d had for as long as he could remember, and it’s even older than the apartment he has for himself at the moment. He’d spent more time in this humble home than he ever did in his own place. Now whether that’s a bad thing or a good thing, he doesn’t really know. 

He places the bowls of fried chicken by the coffee table. As expected, Eunhee immediately takes a chicken in both her hands while keeping her focus on the television screen. From the other side of the couch, Jongin looks at him. 

“So… you have a key to Soojung’s apartment?” Jongin asks, and Taemin knows him well enough to deduce that it’s a question made out of curiosity. 

“It’s no big deal. She got tired of me coming over so much that she eventually resorted to giving me a key of my own.” Simple and truthful. Exactly how things should be. But he knows damn well that simple and truthful is a notion far too impossible for him to be in terms with right now. Not just him, but Soojung as well. 

“You know… since we were younger I’ve always felt like I’m an intruder to you and Soojung. Obviously you two knew each other before I came into the picture, but even when it’s the three of us hanging out constantly, I still feel like I’m walking in on something I’m never supposed to be a part of.” Truthful. As everything should be. A distant smile graces Jongin’s face. 

At that moment, Taemin wants nothing more than to stand and leave. He’d done enough. 

“God your face is exactly the way it looks like when you’re guilty.” Jongin laughs, airily and carefree. “I’m not holding that against you. It’s just the way things are. I’ve come to terms with that.” 

“What are you implying?” Taemin’s fingers curl under the edge of his seat. His gaze is fully trained on Jongin who’s looking at his daughter with a distant smile once more. 

“I’m just saying… that you two have a deep bond that only you two could ever tap into.” 

It’s supposed to be simple, Taemin thinks, but it’s not. He always saw himself as someone who could immediately understand people’s sentiments, their feelings and their inner desires. It’s how he’s able to maintain his friendship with Soojung. Because he understands her more than anyone else, sometimes even more than she does herself. 

But now as he sits on the couch of Soojung’s apartment with Jongin on the other side of it, telling him about a realization that obviously came from years and years ago, he doesn’t really know if he understands people as much as he thinks he does. 

“Do you still… love her?” Taemin asks. Better to get the clear picture now, before he deludes himself into thinking about anything else. 

The expression on Jongin’s face is unreadable. He’s looking at the door to Soojung’s office, like he’s searching for something familiar in the closed door. Like he’s trying to figure something out. 

“Honestly? I don’t know.” 

The revelation feels like a huge boulder dropped itself all over Taemin. 

“I mean, she’s amazing. I love Eunhee and I’m glad that I finally have the chance to become a father to her after all these years.” Jongin continues, “But I don’t know if I love her in that way still, or if it’s just the lack of closure and the nostalgia of old feelings.” 

Taemin finds himself smiling, “she’s an idiot. If she’d been honest back then, both of you wouldn’t be this confused.” 

His shoulders feel heavy and he desperately wants to sink into himself. It’s never supposed to be like this. 

“Lee Taemin,” Jongin’s tone turns serious. Not quite the heavy yet lighthearted one he used a while ago. “I’m gonna ask you something, and please be honest with me.” 

“Mhm.” 

“How long have you been in love with her?” 

Taemin couldn’t hear anything anymore. All that ever registers in his head is the question Jongin just dropped. The sound of the TV feels like it’s light-years away. Eunhee’s giggling, despite it always being loud and adorable, is suddenly static noise in his head. 

How long have you been in love with her? It’s the only thing he could hear and think of. 

Both Soojung and Taemin are liars and secret keepers. The only difference is that Taemin lies to himself and to Soojung, whereas she often lies to herself and to everyone else around her. Everyone except Taemin. She had only ever been truthful to him, while he did everything except that — albeit it’s lying by omission. 

For years, he hoped that no one would know. That no one would ever guess how in love he is with his best friend. Granted the rest of s found out at some point. (Taemin could never really hide anything from them anymore. They raised him just as much as he grew up with Soojung.) 

Suffice to say that this is not a conversation he ever saw coming. 

“Since forever.” He finally breathes out after a long moment of silence. 

Jongin only nods.