Writing doesn't make you a writer as having a camera makes you a photographer or standing in a garage makes you a car. And not all that are labelled as professionals are good, the grimy street corners has its gems, too. But somehow, Kim Jongin makes it. From the streets to the stage. Dancing his way to where he is, passion burning through. It's not easy.

Kai, lead dancer. Countless performances. Time that is never enough. Adrenaline that feels new every time he's there, on the stage, everyone's eyes on him. Cameras don't make him dizzy anymore. Crowds don't faze him anymore. There's that lingering question because he knows, he knows that this isn't for forever because forever doesn't just exist. What now? What now, that Kai is already here, where he so longed to be?

Five years. It's been excruciatingly long. Excruciatingly short.

"Hyung, what happens when you're on the top?" Jongin is sure of one thing though, it's that five years didn't make them tired of each other. Suho, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol and Sehun, the guys in China oh, how he misses them dearly now; he thanks the heavens for them. In a life of thick make-up and even thicker mock-up, s have been his anchor. Dragging routines are broken by these eleven unpredictable brats and Jongin thinks he could be in an unrequited love affair with this inconsistency in his life brought about by his brothers.

Kyungsoo looks at him or at his outline in the dark. "Jongin we are on top. Try making that rusty brain of yours for once and answer your own question." He could imagine the frown on Kyungsoo's face as he answers the question that might be of shallow sense to him, in their exhausted state and limited rest, one could not simply work his brain cells out. Oddly though, times like these are when Jongin's mind goes into overdrive.

"Hyung, it doesn't make sense!" Jongin whines. In their shared room, lying on their separate beds in an ungodly hour where they should be asleep, Jongin regrets letting his thoughts slip out  of his mouth. He always does, always regrets when he says things that aren't polite replies to the emcees or the usual Annyeonghaseyo EXO-K Kai inmida.

"What does?" Kyungsoo shifts on his bed, rusty springs unpleasantly squeaking, disturbing the quiet of the night. Jongin takes this in a different light. In their world, what does make sense? Nothing does. He doesn't know why he does this or that all he knows is it's what noona or hyung or sunbaenim instructed him to do. Jongin doesn't bother to do the math or the economics of this, it's all fed to him. Be just the slightest bit of aloof and mysterious in front of the crowd, focus on dancing, it will bring in more fans. Jongin doesn't know how that is this and one thing leads to the other thing but does it anyway because in his line of work, nothing quite makes sense.

"I thought the air would be thinner on the top. Turns out it thicker, more suffocating."

"But you don't want to go down, don't you?"

Jongin falls silent at this and Kyungsoo assumes the conversation is closed. Every time. It's like this every time. It closes up before Jongin can really say something, before he could actually open up to someone. And maybe that's why no one knows. About him, about the real story. They only know about Kai. Kai, Kai, Kai. They might call him Jongin but even Jongin doesn't know who Jongin is really. So much sides of personality and blurring of identities that sometimes he gets dizzy and he gets afraid that he confuses the people around him, too.

But now, he mentally checks off one box in his mental checklist. The mental checklist doesn't get shorter, though. It piles up. Longer and longer it goes. Some eventually forgotten. Brought back fresh to his mind at certain moments. Maybe it isn't really just one checklist. Maybe it's sorted by the moment, presenting things according to the situation. Wiping clean as the situation comes to an end, and there he goes again confusing himself in his string of thoughts. The mind is not a pretty place, he decides.

What happens when you're on the top?

What happens when you're done being on top?

What happens then, when they get tired of you? When they find someone better to lose their voices for?

The descend wouldn't be pretty, would it?

It's all I've ever lived for...

Is it going to be taken away?

How much time left?

Hyung, Noona, Sunbaenim, I'm scared.

Jongin mentally crosses the first one out and grabs his phone to type out the list. This one set, he doesn't want to be wiped away until he crosses each line out. He ponders on this checklist and titles it Bucketlist in his head. His very own version, with tweaks here and there. One: He would voice this list out to someone, anyone, who cares -probably Kyungsoo- and would take in their vantage point on this.

Two: He finds out himself.

He highly doubts he could do either though. Pathetic, pathetic Kai, or is it Jongin? He'd like to draw a line between the two and maybe he's crazy but crazy is probably what made him survive the revolting roller coaster of his life. So he appreciates the madness.

*

"Hyung, what happens when you're done being on top?" Jongin accompanies Kyungsoo outside. Up. The rooftop's been always a favourite, not exclusively much to Jongin's disappointment. Fresh air and rusty railings are inhaled. Sharp breaths and the cold near-December chill pierce the lungs.

"Then you  go down, I guess?  Or it depends. When you're done being on top, you quit. But when they're done of you being on top, then you drop. Geez, Jongin stop that. You don't want to go down, don't you? You don't want to. We don't want to. Why the heck-" And Kyungsoo sighs and suddenly Jongin has his phone out. He crosses line 2 and 3 because Kyungsoo had hit two birds with one stone. Jongin doesn't get it from Kyungsoo's vantage point. Kyungsoo is too simple. And Jongin snorts because he doesn't really expect Kyungsoo to be anything more than that. Logic, Kyungsoo is logic and back-up plans. He has option two anyway. Front seat 4D pass to his checklist-turned-bucketlist memo glaring at him from his phone and he suddenly thinks that the set screen brightness is too much.

Jongin doesn't bother to hide the fact that he's reading from his phone when he asks line 4.

"What is that?" Kyungsoo looks at Jongin's phone and Jongin hands it out to Kyungsoo.

Jongin thinks everything is easier read than spoken. When you read, you have all the time. When Jongin speaks, it's hurried because he's afraid people might lose interest and stop listening to him altogether before he could finish. He doesn't say much, he doesn't want the things he actually verbalizes be unheard. When Jongin speaks, it could match the nervousness he felt way back into his first year in the industry. Jongin is afraid of speaking--no, Jongin is not afraid of speaking, Jongin is afraid of saying the wrong things. People are very difficult forms of life. Jongin doesn't want to risk losing a friend over something that he can keep inside. It labours his breathing but he's used to it.

Kyungsoo scans the lines of stiff Korean characters. Black over blinding white.

"What is this?"

Jongin knows the question is rhetorical but he answers anyway.
"Bucketlist."

Jongin is hunched over the railings, looking down below. Oh, the descend would not be nice, alright. He could descend quietly, gradually from those eyes that are -has been?- watching but it would always be a struggle for Kai. Gripping on to whatever he can to stop the fall and to climb back up again. His frame is shaking with gentle laughter and Kyungsoo is taken aback and hands his phone back to him.
"Your brain is seriously ADHD."

"Your whole soul is OCD." Jongin retorts. Although he doesn't deny. His brain is ADHD, not knowing what the red lights or the stop sign means. And sometimes, Jongin reveres in his thought overdrives. Sometimes though,  all he wants is to knock himself out for the next five hours or so.

"So hyung, is it going to be taken away? How much time left do you think we have?" Jongin is unmoving except for the shaking of his back in a slightly amused chuckle.

Kyungsoo doesn't answer.

"Hyung... I'm scared." Head lowered down to a new degree, voice to a whisper.

Kyungsoo doesn't answer.

And Jongin's breathing starts to hitch like that. He said something wrong, didn't he? Oh how he hates this. Always feeling like he's the one to blame when others become upset. Jongin doesn't like disappointment. Jongin doesn't want to disappoint others, either.

"Hyung, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" Suddenly all he can see is Kyungsoo and those lips and those eyes. Jongin's eyes cross due the closeness of Kyungsoo's face to his.

"Let me do the honors of shutting you up."

And Jongin's breathing stops altogether like that.

*

Kyungsoo thinks Jongin talks too much. Jongin thinks otherwise. Jongin has a wall and facsimile personalities and he says everything and nothing at the same time. Kyungsoo shuts him up, nonetheless and Jongin suddenly doesn't know if it's good or better or best, or if it's bad or worse or worst. Kyungsoo's lips on him is dizzying but in a pleasant way. Later, he wouldn't be able to sleep.

An screw it because he doesn't know where to put his hands so he lets them hang awkwardly at his sides and prays that Kyungsoo wouldn't notice. His thoughts are in a jumble and his brain in an overdrive like never before. And Jongin now understands Kyungsoo's point of view.

Kyungsoo lives in the moment. For Kyungsoo, there is just now. Maybe he'd learn a thing or two from Kyungsoo in the days to come. Because todays are not really for thinking about tomorrows. And today; now, there is Kyungsoo, and he's fairly certain that tomorrow there is Kyungsoo; and the day after that, too. And a month after, a year and two years after. Jongin smiles into the kiss because maybe, maybe he doesn't really have to worry about tomorrow.