"Hyukjae? Who's Hyukjae?" Kibum asked, knitting his eyebrows together.
            You chopped up vegetables before answering slowly, "He's this guy I've been talking to for a while. He…confessed to me, and I said I'd be his girlfriend."

Kibum didn't know that words could cause so much pain. Why did he bother with love, why did he have to hurt so much? He took a deep breath and asked, "Do you like him?"

            You blushed, avoiding Kibum's gaze. "I…think I could learn to like him the way he likes me."
            "_____, did you get my—" Kibum started, but Ryeowook walked into the kitchen, announcing at the top of his lungs,
            "I found the pasta!"
            You looked at Kibum curiously, wondering what he had been about to say, but Ryeowook started rambling about the Italian-style pasta he was planning on cooking, just for Kibum, and he successfully distracted you.
            While you filled a pot with water and Ryeowook opened the packages of dried noodles, Ryeowook asked,
            "So, Kibum-ah, how has your drama been? How's the filming? What's it like being a top-notch celebrity?"
            Kibum grinned slightly. "I'm no celebrity, Wook. This is just my first official project. But I think it's going well."
            "We'll definitely watch it!" Ryeowook cheered.
            Kibum smiled in appreciation, a real smile, causing you to accidentally splash some water on the ground. Kibum got up to help you as you searched for something to clean up with, flustered. Kibum asked teasingly as he mopped up the water with a towel,
            "So, how's that girlfriend of yours, Kim Ryeowook?"           

            Ryeowook smiled from ear-to-ear, nearly blinding you both with his happiness. "It's alright, I guess."
            "That smile tells me it's more than alright," you told him playfully, setting the pot of water to boil.
            Ryeowook admitted shamelessly, "You caught me. I just really like having someone who loves music as much as I do, who understands me so well. I think that's the best thing about Miyoung. She just gets me, you know?"
            Kibum kept his eyes on your back, watching you boil the noodles. "Yeah. I know."
            Ryeowook raised his eyebrows but kept quiet. He didn't want to cause trouble—not when his best friends were finally together with him. It was just like it was before, cooking, eating, and talking together. Everything is back to normal, Ryeowook thought.
            But Kibum’s thoughts couldn’t be more opposite as he felt his chest tighten at the thought of the new wall that had sprung up between you and him. Lee Hyukjae…who are you to take her away from me?

                                                                                                                                         ~*~

            "And this," you said, opening the door to the room Song Qian told you to go to, "is one of SNU's dance studios."
            Hyukjae's eyes bulged. "Seriously? Look at those mirrors—they actually cover from floor to ceiling! And the flooring…it must be so nice dancing on something that isn't pavement," he said, the longing clear in his voice.
            You laughed at his enthusiasm. That was why you brought him here, because you wanted to do something for him in return—you felt your relationship was unbalanced, in a bad way. "Then how about you give dancing a try here?"
            "In my street shoes?" he asked incredulously.
            Song Qian came up, bidding her dance classmates goodbye as they left the three of you alone in the studio, eyeing Hyukjae and his bright blonde hair as they went. "Take them off," she advised. "But you can dance in your bare feet, can't you?"
            He didn't even answer and got straight to untying his shoelaces. You grinned at Song Qian, grateful for her help in booking the practice room for Hyukjae. She rolled her eyes and muttered,
            "I still think Siwon would've been the better choice."
            "Shh!" you hushed her. "He might hear you!"

            “He’ll live,” Song Qian muttered.

            “Qiannie!” you admonished. “Why are you being so rude?”

            Song Qian pursed her lips. “You deserve better, that’s all.”

            You watched as Hyukjae stared resolutely at himself in the mirror, dancing just a little bit, trying out the new room and environment like a baby opening its eyes for the first time. “Qian, he’s better than better. He’s so nice to me and I really like talking to him. He’s a sweetheart.”

            “But he’s not Choi Siwon,” Qian said, her expression still disapproving, her tone still nagging worse than your mother. “’Maybe he’s better than that Henry Lau was for you, but he’s not Siwon. He’s not even comparable to Kibum.”

            You felt your face heat up. “Why even bring Kibum into this? I think he’s got a new girlfriend, anyway.”

            Qian turned her eyes away from the dancing Hyukjae to meet yours, shocked. “What? How do you know?”

            “I don’t,” you picked at your nails, aiming for nonchalance. “He didn’t mention anyone. But why else would he ignore me like he did? He clearly has someone else to talk to.”

            “You’re being paranoid,” Qian shrugged off your words.

            “Am not!” you retorted indignantly. “Why would I be paranoid, anyway?”

            Qian’s response was cut off by Hyukjae, who suddenly called your name, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

            “_____! Come here. I want to show you something!”

            You sent Qian an apologetic look before dashing to his side. He smiled at your reflection in the studio mirror.

            “Do you like to dance, _____-ah?”

            “You know I don’t dance,” you said, poutinig at him. At the side, unnoticed by the both of you, Song Qian pretended to gag.

            “But you’ll dance with me, won’t you?” he asked, turning to look directly into your eyes, his gaze adoring.           

            Your breath caught in your throat and you felt butterflies suddenly flutter in your stomach. “Uh.”

            He chuckled and took your hand, placing it on his waist, before wrapping your other hand in his fingers. The height difference between you wasn’t too great—you could see straight into his eyes; he was so close, so close that you could see every mole on his face, hear every breath leave his lips. You turned your head away, but he just gently turned it back with his free hand.

            “Take a step back,” he said, his voice soft.

            You stepped back.

            “The other foot, _____-ah.”

            “Oh. Right.”

            “Good, now step towards me.”

            You took a small step towards him, and he pulled you so close that your noses brushed. “Like that.”           

            You blushed for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I, um, don’t think I’m doing it right.”

            “I don’t think so, either,” he mused, his eyes crinkling as they looked over your awkwardly stumbling feet. “Here,” and he hoisted you up on top of his toes.

            “I’m going to crush your feet!” you protested, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp. But he just gripped your hand more tightly, and assured, “You’re lighter than air. Trust me.”           

            His eyes are definitely his best feature, you noted as you looked at his face. Open, honest, expressive…you found yourself trusting him, and in the next second, you were flying—almost literally. He was whirling around in circles around the dance studio, laughing each time he nearly tripped. You couldn’t help but laugh along; his laughter was contagious, and you felt lighter than a bird, and so safe; you felt so safe in his arms that you weren’t afraid even once that he would drop you, not even when he nearly tripped himself.

            Observing from the side, Song Qian almost decided that Lee Hyukjae was alright as she watched the two of you dance. Almost. Because Hyukjae looked at you the way that—

            “Oh! I’m sorry. Are we interrupting?” a sweet-sounding, feminine voice called from the doorway. Song Qian turned to see some dancers peeking through at the doorway.

            Come to your senses, Song Qian! She scolded herself. _____ is too good for Hyukjae! “Oh, no,” she told them with a bright smile. “Come on in, we’re just fooling around.”

            “Are they on a date or something?” one of the three girls asked curiously.

            “Definitely not,” Song Qian said. “Don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything at all.”

            One of the girls perked up at her words, her smile becoming wider.

                                                                                                                                         ~*~

            Kibum paced around his room in his old apartment. Ryeowook had been out all day—probably off working or playing with Miyoung. Kibum had been just about to head out to see Han Geng about his letter when he got a text—a text that kept him pacing, nearly driving him mad with all the thoughts and confusion in put into his mind.

            Kibum oppa, I miss you~~when you come back to set, we should go out, just the two of us~! ^^

            Yoona. Why did she have to be like this? Why were girls always like this? They couldn’t ever make up their minds. She was the one who decided to break up, not him, but now she wanted him back?

            Kibum wanted to scream. Two years ago, Kibum would’ve gone back to her in a heartbeat. Teenage Kibum had been so thoroughly infatuated with her: she was the perfect girl-next-door, with big, innocent eyes, and a charming sweet smile and all the mystery of a first crush. But he didn’t need her anymore, didn’t want her anymore, and she was still pursuing him so diligently.

            He had you. He only wanted you.

            But Yoona, with her little texts, and her straightforward conversations with him—they all brought back so many memories, memories he didn’t want to be brought back. He only wanted the present to grab you and the future to hold you, and he didn’t want a single bit of the past to keep him back.

            He desperately wished he could hurt Yoona.

            He wished he could coolly brush her off like he had done to all other girls for the past two years; he wished he could be blinded to all her charms like he had been blinded to other girls all his life, but no matter how much he wished, he couldn’t change reality, and reality told him that Yoona was his first girlfriend, first kiss, first everything…maybe even his first love.

            But what he felt for ______ was love. He knew it was. Just one thought of you twisted his heart into a knot and kept it that way for several minutes until he could calm down. He wanted to see you all the time. He wanted to talk to you, about you, with you. He wanted to talk about you when you weren’t there. He wanted to sing about you in the shower, analyze every little detail of your every single move with Ryeowook—but he couldn’t. Not with Lee Hyukjae in the picture, not when he wasn’t sure if you could ever love him return, especially after what happened with him.

            And though you injected his heart with the poison of your presence and the venom flowed through his veins he knew he loved you, and never before had he been so affected, not even with Yoona…what he had felt for Yoona could not compare to what he felt for you. But he couldn’t bring himself to crush her like she had crushed him; he couldn’t stand the thought of putting someone through that, of hurting a girl the way _____ had been hurt.

            He stopped pacing and slowly typed up a message and sent it to Yoona before throwing his body on the couch you had bought together, closing his eyes.

            Ring! Ring! Ring!

            Kibum was surprised by the swiftness of her reply.

            “Yobeoseyo?”

            “Bummie? Can we please go?”

            Kibum shot up. That wasn’t Yoona’s voice—it was yours. “_____? What? What’s wrong?

            “Not again,” you said desperately into the phone. “Not this again…”

            “_____, calm down,” he said into his phone, his brain automatically taking over. “Tell me where you are. I’ll come and pick you up.”

            “The SNU dance studios,” you managed to choke out.

            Kibum grabbed his wallet with some extra bus tickets in it before dashing out the door.

                                                                                                                                         ~*~

            “So your name’s Lee Hyukjae?” the girl with long, raven-black hair asked, flipping her locks over her shoulder.

            “Yeah,” he said shortly. “Do I know you?

            “No, but you could,” she said flirtatiously.

            You glanced at her then back at your boyfriend. “Can we help you?” you asked politely.

            She ignored you completely. “Look,” she said, sauntering up to him. “I have a senior recital coming up. I need a partner for one of my pieces…a male partner. And it seems like you really know how to move,” she added, her eyes roving up his body.

            Seriously? Right in front of you? Was she really going to flirt with your boyfriend, right in front of you? You opened your mouth to snap at her, but Song Qian quickly rushed over, her eyes wide.

            “Oh my gosh, are you Kwon Boa?” she squealed, her hands flailing around.

            “Just BoA,” she corrected smoothly, not taking her eyes off Hyukjae.  

            Qian’s eyes grew even rounder. “You’re a legend here at SNU! All the dance teachers talk about you. Everyone wants to be like you.”

            “Kwon Boa?” Hyukjae mused, his grip on your hand unconsciously slackening as he racked his brains. “Why does that sound so familiar?”

            “Because,” Qian sniffed, “she is the best dancer that has ever come to SNU. And she’s about to debut with SM Entertainment, as soon as she finished up here, right?”

            “Sounds about right,” BoA said, finally looking around at the rest of the people in the room. She laid her eyes on you for a moment.

            “I’ve never heard of her,” you said pointedly.

            “I have,” Hyukjae said suddenly. “I just remembered—you’re pretty famous on the streets, too.”           

            “Ooh, a street dancer,” BoA practically purred. “I like the sound of that.”

            “Can I please have a picture with you, BoA sunbaenim? My classmates will freak!” Qian nearly begged.

            “Only if this boy right here,” BoA said, tapping him on the nose, “Agrees to be my dance partner.”  You flinched at his side, squeezing his fingers tightly. He grinned reassuringly at you, but you didn’t feel much better.

            “He will!” Qian supplied quickly.

            “Song Qian!” you gasped.

            Hyukjae quickly pulled you to his side and began speaking in hushed whispers. “_____, this could be a really good chance for me. I’ll get to work with a really experienced sunbae, and maybe even have a shot into SM Entertainment—you know, the company of Shinhwa, Fly to the Sky, and so many more?”

            You looked into his eyes, shining with excitement, recalling how only a few minutes ago they seemed so open and honest to you. Now they seemed closed-off, and you couldn’t trust those eyes, not right now, not with Kwon BoA standing two feet away. But you swallowed your unhappiness, because he had waited more than two years for you—you could repay him even this little favor, by giving him permission to dance with BoA when he didn’t even require your permission…right?

            “Have fun,” you said softly.

            He kissed the top of your head. “I knew you’d understand.”

            BoA rolled her eyes at the exchange before quickly dragging him away. She dusted off his collar, not-so-subtly brushing her fingers on his chest, before saying, “How about I teach you how I move?”

            You left Song Qian there in her squealing, fangirl mess, unable to watch BoA take away the little happiness you had just found. What if Hyukjae, whom you had just opened up to, ended up being no different from the others?

            Just like Henry…

            Just like him…

            Was Hyukjae really going to be the same? You felt your chest tighten and you couldn’t breathe; you didn’t know what to do. So, you called the one person who never failed to set your heart at ease:

            “Bummie? Can we please go?”

            …

            “I’ll come and pick you up.”

                                                                                                                                         ~*~

            “It’s okay,” Kibum murmured, holding you in a close embrace, soothing you after listening to you tell him all about BoA. “Shhh. It’s okay.”

            “I’m just so freaked,” you said, your voice muffled because of how your face was pressed against Kibum’s chest. “What if he ends up like the rest of them? I’m so tired of it, Kibum-ah.”

            Kibum held you at arms-length, surveying your face. He felt relieved, angry, sad, and determined all at the same time—relieved, because you weren’t seriously hurt; angry, because Lee Hyukjae was stupid enough to walk away from someone as precious as you; sad, because after all this time you were still like this; determined, because he knew he had to set things straight with you once and for all.

            “Look, _____,” he said, holding you steady by your shoulders. “I know what we have to do.”

                                                                                                                                         ~*~

            “Where is this bus going?” you questioned, gripping tightly to Kibum’s arm as you rattled along down the road.

            “Do you trust me?

            “Always,” you said firmly.

            He smiled, and just like that, you forgot about Hyukjae and the bouncing bus. “Then just trust that I’m taking you somewhere that will make you feel better.”

            You rode in companionable silence for quite some time. You leaned against Kibum’s shoulder, not even bothering to try and guess his surprise location. “What a sweet couple,” an ahjumma murmured, but though Kibum glanced at you, you didn’t seem to hear. You just watched the city—and eventually the countryside—go by, feeling truly calm for the first time in a long time. Your serenity was soon interrupted by a vibration.

            “Sorry,” Kibum said, shifting so that you had to move away from your position resting against his shoulder, fumbling around in his pocket. He glanced at the screen then slid it back in his pocket without a second thought.

            “Was that work?” you asked, somewhat curious.

            “Nah,” Kibum said, gently pushing you down to rest against him again. You snuggled comfortable against him. “It’s nothing important.”           

            Hidden deep in his pocket, unknown to the world, five words flashed on his screen.

            1 Missed Call: Im Yoona

                                                                                                                                         ~*~

            “Here, Kim Kibum?” you gasped, gazing up at the gate, finally having arrived at the place in his plan. “Kibum, you promised this would make me feel better, not worse!”

            You ripped yourself from his grasp and turned to run away. “Don’t, _____,” he said, easily catching up to you, taking his hand in his.

            “No, Kibum,” you told him firmly, almost desperately. “We were just here. We came here after Jungsu oppa’s party. I don’t need to come back here.”

            You tried wrenching yourself away, but he was too strong.

            “Stop running away, ____,” he said, gazing into your eyes with such intensity that you couldn’t look away. “You’re done blaming yourself, hurting yourself—you’re done with running away. We’re going to sit here and talk this out until we fix everything.”           

            “Kibum,” you said, the tears starting to rise, “I can’t. I can’t. I really, really can’t. Please, Bummie, please don’t make me do this. I can’t face him…”

            Kibum’s voice grew soft, tender. “I’m right here.” He drew you close, wrapping you in his arms, resting his head on top of yours. “I’m right here.”

            After a moment, when you calmed down a bit more, he pulled away slightly and asked, “Ready?”

            “No.”           

            “Okay, good,” he said, ignoring your words. “Now, march!”

            And you slowly but surely entered under the gate, which read,

            SEOUL NATIONAL CEMETERY           

                                                                                                                                         ~*~

            You found your destination quickly. Kibum seemed to have the way memorized, but you had no idea where you were going—you never came here. You stumbled along, following blindly. In two years, you might have come once, if even that much. Your grip on Kibum tightened again, and he could see the emotion running wild in your eyes.           

            "Don't run away, _____. Talk to him, first," Kibum said, his voice almost a whisper. You glanced at him. His eyes, too, were full of emotion, and his voice was rough.
            You intertwined your fingers with his, for strength, before speaking.
            "Hi," you said thickly, tracing the name on the gravestone you stopped at with your fingertip. "I'm back. I-I missed you…"
            "Hi, hyung," Kibum said quietly, looking at the grave.

                                                                                                          Here Lies a Beloved Son, Brother, and Friend
                                                                                                                         No matter where you are now,
                                                                                                                   In our hearts you will always remain
                                                                                                                                   Our shining star,
                                                                                                                                      Kim Heechul.
                                                                                                                                              R.I.P.
                                                                                                                        July 10, 1983-August 10, 2006
 

A/N: I'll let you have a moment to be mindblown. Although I have been hinting at this for the past few chapters XD …and the whole story. Everything has been revealed! But at the same time…there’s so much to uncover :OOO What did Kibum text to Yoona? Why did she call? What will Hyukjae do? What about Heechul?!

AND huuuge hint at the rest of the story plot here. HUUUUUUUUGE. I wonder which ELF will be able to spot it? It’s a really big hint to the next chapter and the story in general. Petals should know. Hardcore ELFs might be able to spot it…
Anyway. I actually don't know how Christian Koreans bury the dead. And we’ll pretend that in Kibum and Heechul’s pretend family, they’re Christian. We all know Heechul’s atheist, and I think Kibum is Christian, but I’m not sure. And when creating this cemetery, which is completely fictional and I’m pretty sure doesn’t actually exist, I'm just imagining Donghae's dad's grave. Can you imagine that grave stone in real life? =(
Sorry this is so late TT.TT The next one will be so much fun to write. Please comment and subscribe…or just comment~~I’d love some feedback on this<3