but i'm not going home yet
take me to paradise | a kaistal collectionbut i'm not going home yet
g, 5335w
and everything is all sorts of tragic
It seems like all stories start whenever there's a new beginning, some important defining point that someone deems worthy as page one - a new friend that you meet, a new place you move to, a new day that greets you with sun rays shining through the window and the loud beeping of your alarm clock. Maybe it starts with "she was five years old when she met her best friend" or "the house was all gray, boards crooked and door creaking" or "let me introduce myself: i am jung soojung, the dumb girl that somehow manages to stay breathing despite her idiocy."
That last one seems sufficient. It is not exactly the attention-grabbing "hook" that all English teachers say are so vital to essays and stories and all that, but Soojung doesn't try to be attention-grabbing in the first place. She prefers to be low-profile, maybe avoid some of that hate that inevitably comes with being the center of a rising girl group and perhaps slyly direct people away from all her flaws and shortcomings. She is Jung Soojung, just a normal girl taking on life with a fiery ambition that sometimes runs dry whenever she exerts herself too much. Confident in her ability, yet humble and a realist at times. She thinks it is the imbalance between her optimism and realism that leads to this whole mess - the ever so frustrating conflict between her head and her heart, her logic and her emotions.
First of all, there's the problem of Jongin. She wants to laugh whenever she sees his name, but not in the good way. It's a sort of bitter laugh, one that holds tons of memories, one that sounds a bit forced and a bit nostalgic, one that she wants to hold in but can't help letting out.
Truthfully, she doesn't even realize that he became such a huge part of her life until it is too late and he is gone and there is a hole in her heart, pierced by a bullet and unable to be patched with the purple band-aids she always likes to wear.
("You're really weird," he side-eyes her as she looks through the aisles for her beloved band-aids. "I don't get why you need to put so much effort into such a useless thing."
She shoots him a glare. "You don't understand. Band-aids are one of the greatest inventions in human history. They have the ability to comfort, to protect a wound, to heal all hurt, physical and emotional. It's a symbolism thing; of course you wouldn't understand." She proceeds to scan through the shelves.
"How about purple band-aids? The color seems pretty." Jongin raises his eyebrows as he shoves the box into her face.
She smiles, and it is the little things that matter - the color purple, the smirk on his face, the mock look of pain when she shoves him on the shoulder.)
(They were a good pair.)
At first, of course, she was flattered when one day he decided to declare his love for her. (you're more than i ever imagined, soojung. i think... i'm falling for you and i can't stop. tell me not to stop, soojung. she tries to look away but her pulse is racing and her heart is beating faster than lightning and she feels paralyzed as she stares into his intense eyes.)
His sincerity scares her. The magnitude of his affection is purely frightening and suddenly her adrenaline is at an all-time high for no reason at all - maybe it's the fear, maybe it's the excitement, the promise of something different in her world of black and white and gray.
He's a good guy, Jongin is. He has big dreams, like they all do, but he works ten times harder, it seems like. He's up late at night into the morning perfecting his moves, earbuds plugged in, the beat coursing through his body as his temples glisten with sweat (you're yawning again, she observes. did you stay up late practicing? again? he ignores her and turns over on his side, eyes closed and groaning in his sleep).
He's a hard shell to break, someone who doesn't easily open up to people, but when he does, he pursues the friendship with a certain fervor that is surprising (do you need help with anything? he asks, draping his arm around her shoulder. she slides away from underneath his grasp and shakes her head. i'm fine, but thanks for asking).
He is blunt and honest, trustworthy and a faithful friend (don't ever lie to me, soojung, he looks at her pointedly. why do you care? she replies, in that cold way of hers. because i would never lie to you, and he chuckles when she rolls her eyes at his cheesiness).
He's childish and immature at times (it's not my fault that sehun's is squishy, okay, don't judge, he sticks his tongue out at her), yet understanding and mature as well (so i was thinking - what i hate most is miscommunication and misunderstandings. it is better to say what needs to be said even if it hurts; that's what makes true friendships and a long-lasting team, he says one day. deep stuff, she agrees).
He's a good guy, Jongin is.
(Almost too good.)
("Here, I'll walk you to the subway station," he offers, flashing her a quick smile.
She laughs, empty and hollow - happy, but empty and hollow all the same. "You don't have to, you know."
He reaches over to pat her head. "No, it's okay; I'm not giving you any option to refuse me, Soojung." And he chuckles in that deep voice of his and her heart threatens to go haywire - but it doesn't.
"Okay, let's go." They end up riding the subway past her stop on accident because they're too busy talking and laughing and oh, where did the time go? They shake their heads at their own forgetfulness and take the next line back.)
(Where did the time go? they had asked. And now Soojung only wishes that those days had lasted longer.)
He's a little too genuine, a little too nice - if that makes any sense at all.
Being chased is a scary ordeal. Suddenly, you allow yourself to dream, you decide to risk imagining the future, you see a hundred opportunities floating just on the horizon. Suddenly, you find your heart racing for no apparent reason even though you swear that you don't like him in that way, and your breathing quickens - shallower and shallower until your lungs are burning with the excitement of a new adventure - breathing faster and faster and faster until you run out of oxygen and you pass out, only to be woken up with the anguishing realization that maybe none of it could work in the first place and you've been misleading the both of you all along.
And everything is all sorts of tragic.
("I-I just don't think I can do this anymore, Jongin," she looks down at the floor. The silence in the air is agonizing.
"Why? Did I do anything wrong?" His voice is about to crack.
She musters up the courage to look him in the eyes, her own eyes coated with a film of tears. "N-no," she lowers down to a whisper, hoarse and painful. "You're perfect. You're fine."
"I don't understand. I've given you my everything. We're finally standing on the same stage. I get to see you more often now. We were so -"
"You're so good to me; you didn't do anything wrong. It's all my problem. I'm sorry, Jongin." And she can't help the quiet sobs escaping from her lips.
His eyes are stricken with pain and he looks a bit distant now. "Please don't cry, Soojung. I really hate to see you cry."
Upon hearing that, her floodgates open and tears are flowing freely down her face, her heart writhing with regret and guilt. "T-this, wow," she says between sobs. "This is embarrassing. I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that, that you're sorry. I - I..."
"Hmm?" she looks at him questioningly.
She can tell that he is struggling within himself. He fights to find the right words. "If this is your decision, then I will respect it."
She winces and clenches her teeth, trying to set her resolve. "Yes," she whispers. It's like an iron weight crushing her soul.
She sees him swallow, frantically glancing at the ground before returning her gaze once more. He already looks like a different person to her and it scares her out of her wits. He stiffly nods. "Bye, Soojung. I guess that's all."
He walks briskly out of the room, not even sparing one last glance, and he doesn't hear the tiny whisper that she exhales softly right when he steps out the door.
"I think, at some point, I did love you, though."
She doesn't know when they started falling apart, when she starting feeling that something wasn't right, and now she doesn't even remember ever feeling that way in the first place. Her whole heart goes numb.)
(And she almost wishes that he had the guts to defy her, to try one last time to get her back - ironically enough. She wants to smack herself for being so fickle.)
It's tough, loving someone. The closer you get to someone, the more magnified their flaws become. And then you are forced to make a choice: are you going to accept those flaws or not? She hates herself for being so caught up in her pet peeves with people that she can never appreciate the friendship as much as she should. Jongin is her biggest regret and greatest joy and most insufferable pain in the neck. The little things he says, his lame jokes, how sometimes he can just be so annoying with his constant attempts to make her laugh or offers to do things for her, how sometimes he did things without thinking and brought unintended consequences upon himself - all things that bothered her, however stupid it may sound - they now seem so inconsequential to her in hindsight.
Now, in her pain and tears, all she remembers are the times he held her when she was crying, how he danced for her to make her feel better, how he would send dorky and cheesy texts to her 24/7, how he could make her smile just by threatening to tickle her, how they mutually helped each other with whatever they needed, how they stayed up late having deep talks, how they went on random walks to no place in particular, how they fit together when they hugged and embraced.
Soojung is literally a walking paradox.
She doesn't know how she could love and hate someone so much all at the same time.
She's secretly happy that now that they're both preparing for their comebacks that they can see each other almost daily in the SM building, but she can't ignore the painful constrictions in her heart whenever she thinks of him.
How could she miss someone who's right in front of her?
("Break time!" the choreographer shouts, chugging down some water.
"Let's go peek into EXO's practice room," Amber suggests, always the friendly and curious one.
Jinri's eyes brighten. "Let's see if Chanyeol actually improved, hah. At this rate, I think even I dance better than him."
"Oh, come on, Ssul, there's nothing wrong with your dancing," Vic laughs. "But yeah, let's go while we still have time!"
"Soojung?" Sunyoung throws a glance at her.
Soojung sighs. "Okay, fine."
They end up peering through EXO's doorway right when the boys are on break too and immediately it's an impromptu party. Her searching gaze immediately gravitates toward a certain boy in a gray hoodie, practicing his moves with Sehun. Out of the corner of her eye she spots him noticing their entrance but quickly averting his attention to the floor. She thinks she wants to punch him, but then she remembers that she was the one who rejected him in the first place.
Funny how he had always been the one who pushed for clear communication and here he is, quite literally doing the opposite. She clenches her jaw. Two can play at that game, she thinks. She stalks out of the room silently, her heart ice cold.
On the inside, she wants him to run after her. But she knows that Kim Jongin is the most stubborn brat in the world, and that to some extent, she is too.)
(And that never works out.)
Too close for comfort, he had been. And now, ironically, he is too far away.
She can't help but hate herself. It's frustrating because she is never satisfied. She never gives herself permission to love even if she yearns for it. Perhaps she doesn't have the ability to love at all.
She forces herself to listen to sad break-up songs, even if they weren't really together in the first place. There is a good kind of pain, almost sadistic, reveling in the regret and self-pity. Sprinkling salt on the open wound in her heart, the hole that he left behind, torn-out flesh, blood flowing.
She feels like she should be stronger, but she suddenly finds it hard to breathe, her windpipe contracting, choking, suffocating. The tears sting in her eyes, blurring her vision, clouding her thinking.
("Ugh, Soojung," Sehun glares at her. "Be more careful next time," he admonishes after she bumps into him, making him spill water all over his sweatshirt.
"Sorry," she mumbles, her eyes averted, dry and empty.
She can't seem to do anything right these days.)
It's funny because right when she feels like distance is exactly what they both need, the company decides to put Jongin in their Pink Tape photo shoot and it's like they've dropped a bomb into her life.
"There's no way this can happen," she mutters underneath her breath. She has the gut feeling that she'll be one of the main ones paired up with him, her and her newly-dyed red hair and all, and truthfully it maddens her. "I don't understand how they can just - expect me to, I don't know, act all lovey-dovey or whatever with him," she continues grumbling.
"It's not like they know what really went down between you and him in the first place," Amber bluntly puts it, and Soojung knows that she has a point. She decides it's probably a mutual feeling anyway.
He arrives at the shoot clad in red plaid and it kind of matches her hair and she even feels like the whole atmosphere is just - red - and she doesn't know if she's angry or sad or just plain in love with him because everything just blurs together and she can't bring herself to look at him in the eye. She guesses that it's for the better that the concept is full of angst anyway. Great, she thinks, Perfectly describes my situation.
But when they make her hug him, her arms wrapping around his neck, she laughs nervously a bit, and she can feel him shift under her touch, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He's almost shaking, she can feel it, but he's keeping his face stoic so she does the same. She's not such a bad actress after all, and he's not bad either, she knows. She briefly allows herself to wonder how it would be like if this was real life, being held in his arms, his body against hers so she can feel the rise and fall of his chest. She sinks into his embrace, and the camera shutter clicks, then.
The entire photo shoot is just a roller coaster of emotions and none of them say a word through it all. His touch is electric upon her skin and it scares her because that had never happened before - that feeling, that sensation.
She wants it to stop, but when he finally does leave, she feels more empty than ever.
(Her heart is still beating out of control when she arrives back at the dorm and she hopes that this will be the last she'll see of him in a very, very long while.
"It should've been you," she comments off-handedly to Jinri before they go to sleep. "You would've pulled it off better." She sighs.
"You did really well though," Jinri replies. "You both did." Her voice gets softer and Soojung knows that Jinri felt it too - felt the palpable tension in the air and the conflicted emotions churning overhead.
Soojung flips over and wraps her comforter around her body, feigning sleep. She tries not to remember the way it felt leaning her head on his shoulder, or staring into his eyes with his hair tousled perfectly, or feeling his heartbeat in tune with her own - erratic, yearning, painful. It was like a taste of what she could've had, but it felt like he was slipping away from her grasp even as her arms slipped around his torso.
Sadness, that's what she feels. A kind of resignation, because she knows he was never hers to begin with.)
EXO begins their Growl promotions and Soojung is relieved beyond belief. No more accidental run-ins, no more distracting thoughts gnawing at the back of her head, reminding her that Jongin is just a few doors down, that he's so close, that he's right there, and yet she can't talk to him even if she wanted to. She would rather not see his face ever again than to know that he's always around, ignoring her in plain daylight.
She finds her fingers typing out a text message to him, to wish him good luck on his promotions. This will be good for us, she types. I know you'll do well.
She presses send before she can change her mind. A pit in her stomach forms, and she curls up among her blankets in her bed and cries and cries and cries.
(In the darkness, under the refuge of her covers, she turns on her cell phone, scrolling through his private blog, his various social network profiles - dreaming, missing, hurting. She laughs at his antics, his stupid statuses, his embarrassing but cute comments. And the tears threaten to well up again when she finds herself having to hold back from "liking" a post or commenting with some inside joke - that is not her place anymore, and it kills her.)
(Sometime later, past midnight, her phone buzzes. She jerks up from her tortured sleep, her hand shaking as she grabs for her phone, heart palpitating and arteries pulsing. She quickly reads the name on the screen, Kim Jongin. She swallows, taking a deep breath before opening the message: Thanks. And yes, it will be good. Goodbye.
She doesn't know whether to wince at how concise and impersonal the response is or to rejoice at the fact that he even replied in the first place.
The tears seem endless.)
The weeks pass like colors on a wheel, each day distinct and painful and yet blurring together in one magnificent rainbow of fresh air. The pain slowly subsides, the thoughts of him are no longer associated with pangs of hurt and regret, and she almost finds herself indifferent to it all. She finally feels free; she didn't need him, after all.
She pours her heart and soul into the group's newest album. She has more to do than pining over a boy who is adamant on ignoring her.
And all is well.
(But sometimes, in rare cases of relapses and nostalgia, she thinks of doing certain things with a certain Kim Jongin - getting ice cream, having impromptu dance-offs (which she always ends up losing, except for the time he let her win because it was her birthday), coming up with lame jokes - and it all comes crashing down again.
She presses the play button on the stereo again. Time to practice, Soojung, she mutters to herself, tensing her jaw and willing herself to forget.
She's alright, really.)
Her time in heaven ends a little too quickly for her liking. f(x) is officially back in the music scene, Soojung with her bright red hair, all dressed in plaid. They achieve an all-kill and Soojung feels like Krystal again.
The only problem is Jongin (it is always him, it seems like). She curses SM for making their promotion cycles overlap, for forcing them to be together during the encore stages whenever f(x) wins. She sees him almost everyday, and that does not help her cause at all.
How everything reminds her of some experience she had with him, how sometimes she would chance a look in his direction and she thinks he knows it too. He has to know - because it's impossible that he's forgotten everything this quickly...right? But she tells herself that he's trying to move on and that she should too. That one day she'll find the right one and that it won't happen until she officially lets him go.
It's ironic because you would think that she has no regrets, considering she was the one who broke it off in the first place. And it's only fitting for her to leave it all behind. Better to leave something broken rather than hurt yourself trying to put it back together.
But for now, she tells herself that she's fine. She's satisfied just catching a glimpse of him, with his gray silver hair (hideous, she telepathically tells him, half-serious, half-teasing), just talking to him once in a while to make believe that everything is okay.
One can live like this.
(But not for long, she thinks. Not for long.)
It's crazy because she still allows herself to indulge in a joke or two, a guilty reminisce of the past friendship, putting up a facade. Yet at the same time, there is a hidden yet tangible feeling of mutual restraint, as if they're both waging a silent battle against each other to see who could care less. A connected gaze that lasts a few milliseconds too short. The high five that echoes in the hallway. The slight tingle where their palms touched (she thinks she's just imagining it).
It begins to feel superficial, as if it did not already feel superficial enough. She begins to think everything between them, even the friendship itself, was a complete and utter lie.
She finds it a habit to eat a piece of dark chocolate per day. Bittersweet.
(And when f(x) wins on Inkigayo yet again with Jongin as one of the MCs, she raises her eyebrows in surprise when he starts to approach her, hand low, his eyes shifting, distracted. His hair, his annoyingly gray hair, is styled just right, and the dress shirt he's wearing accentuates his broad shoulders, the dependable shoulders she always used to lean on -
She smiles for the camera (for him), her eyes curving into moon-like crescents. He gives her a passing glance, his gaze sweeping over her as he walks past.
She swears, not only because she's made herself look like an utter fool on TV but more so because Kim freaking Jongin is the most stubborn person she knows and she hates him for it.)
(Back stage, he is running through the corridor and gives her a small smile, the corners of his lips slightly pursed. It makes her day, even so.
Bittersweet, indeed.)
She catches her thumb hovering over the green call button on her phone, and she even almost presses it, desperate to hear his voice, even his automated voicemail message - anything. But she stops herself, and cries instead.
She thinks she loves him, then.
(She loves him with everything she has and it scares her because it feels like she's losing her grip on herself, on her emotions. It's not supposed to be this way, she thinks, tears sliding down her cheeks.)
She's backstage again and this time f(x) visits EXO's waiting room and she's hopelessly dragged along as usual. She doesn't miss the way he bluntly gets up and leaves right after they sit down, and it punctures her heart even more how he does it so without emotion. It's just so hard to understand - how things between them had changed in only a split second decision, 180 degrees, irreversible now.
But she loves him and she lets him go, only following him with her eyes and then Sehun gets up too, trying not to look at her. Her heart clenches then because she senses that Jongin is probably not alright no matter how composed he looks on the outside, and it's all her fault.
Everything is her fault these days.
It happens again and again, his conscious efforts to stay out of her sight, and it becomes a habit, really.
She doesn't expect to see him anymore.
(Her promotions end quite quickly and she can finally breathe again. She almost forgets - forgets how he looks like in person, to have him in his flesh and bones right in front of her, and she doesn't know if it's just her mind playing tricks on her but she tells herself that she doesn't care.
"Hey Soojung," Jinri whispers in her ear while she's eating breakfast one morning.
"Hmm?"
Jinri cups Soojung's cheeks so she can get a good look at her face. Soojung shrinks back because she knows she's sporting dark circles and for some reason they look even worse today. "How late did you stay up last night?" Jinri asks, concerned.
"Not that late," she murmurs, staring at her cereal.
Jinri only raises an eyebrow and engulfs her in a hug anyway, evidently not satisfied with her answer. "Maybe this is good for both of you, not seeing each other, I mean."
And Soojung knows she's right because it had worked before, how she had been more or less happy when she had tricked herself into forgetting him, only to have it all backfire when she laid eyes on him the next time around. It's useless, a futile cycle.
You can't train your heart into forgetting someone that had been such a big part of your life. The heart does strange things, she realizes.
But she nods, if only to reassure her friend because Jinri has enough problems on her plate as it is. Soojung smiles. "I'll be alright."
"I hope so, too," Jinri whispers, and that's when Soojung knows that if anything, she has more things to think about than a boy and missed chances and stupid split second decisions.
"Hey Jinri?"
"Yeah?"
"Let's go shopping today. Not really buying anything, but just, you know, window shopping." Soojung nudges her lightly on the shoulder. "I think it'll be fun."
Her friend smiles. "We haven't done that in a while, have we?"
And that's when Soojung feels the pieces of her heart slowly mending. Her heart still beats for him, but it starts to hurt less, and maybe there's more to the world than this.)
Later on, she allows herself to look back at her diary, only sporadic entries - an entry one day, and then another a week or so later - and she smiles. There's a purple band-aid on one of the pages and instead of making her heart twinge with pain upon remembering, it oddly gives her a sense of comfort.
You were a good friend, she tells him in her mind, and he had never understood her thing with band-aids and maybe he never will, but what she does know is that she's healing, even though she doesn't love him any less.
She wonders how he's doing. She's given up trying to keep tabs.
And it's better this way, ultimately, she thinks.
(We were the best of friends, she later writes in a new entry. Good friends who almost crossed the boundary between friends and lovers, but I guess things got tangled along the way. Really tangled.
We're not talking anymore, and I barely see him, and sometimes I forget why I like him in the first place but then I see him in my dreams and I fall for him all over again. But Jongin - well, Jongin seems to be holding up better than I am. He's always known for his poker face anyway, and for being unbelievably stubborn. It's one of those traits that you either love or hate, but I think I love him anyway.
I think, though, that I may have fallen in love with the memories, not him. That's what scares me the most. I don't want to see him and then realize that my feelings had been a lie. Which might not be a bad thing, on second thought.
But right now...right now, I'm not ready. I can't wait though, for when I am.
She puts her pen down and she waits - waits for the right day to face him again. She doesn't deny that her heart is beating a little faster at the thought of him but she is also aware of the fact that maybe - maybe his own heart doesn't beat for her anymore.
And weirdly enough, it makes her feel better, because it gives her hope that maybe she can overcome this too.)
Some people are meant to fall in love but are not meant to be together. She accepts the cruel reality and tells herself that she's done, that she was never a romance freak anyway, that she'll be perfectly fine to just occasionally see him out and about, living his life as any normal human being should - unlike Soojung, who is probably not human or normal, considering the way things are.
Letting go is probably the hardest thing she's ever had to do. Especially when she's finally come to terms with the fact that she might, in fact, have some sort of attraction to him. A bitter chuckle escapes . She's unbelievably stupid, and Jongin does not deserve to date or even be loved by an idiot.
It is D-Day for her. She didn't know that it would happen until she sees Chanyeol and Baekhyun in front of the company building and that's when she realizes that he's probably here too. She clutches her hand to her chest because she suddenly feels out of breath, like her lungs are caving in.
Soojung spends the rest of the morning distracted while doing her work, and Victoria has to pull her aside to ask if she's okay. She manages a smile because she really is alright - she's just a girl confused with her feelings and she comes to the conclusion that that's one of the most normal things you can ever be.
She's on her way out when she hears footsteps coming, along with his voice mixed with others floating down the hallway. Soojung smiles because his voice is still the same and it reminds her of home.
But home is not where she's going right now. No, not when she has the whole world to explore, dreams to fulfill, people to meet and love.
Time heals, and that's what she's betting on.
(He walks by. A ghost of a smile lingers on those thick lips of his, and his eyes sparkle just enough to give the impression that he is willing to be her friend again. And oh, how she wants it. And one day, she thinks, it might happen.
But for now, she will turn away, eyes straight ahead, footsteps sure and firm.
She wavers a bit, her mind subconsciously whirring with memories - those wretched thoughts, all she has left of the beautiful friendship they once had. Something that had the potential to be something more.
And it might, still. It just might. There is no such thing as impossible in this world, but sometimes Soojung doesn't quite believe in that.
She wonders if he does.
And as she walks further and further away from the boy who stole her heart, she allows herself to briefly feel a pang of regret, of remorse, of pain.
She reaches the door. She breathes.)
a/n: something i started about a year ago and picked up today to finish. hope you like it! it's the longest piece i've written on my own, i think. congrats to me lol :)
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