If the sun was a smile and the moon was a frown, and all the stars in the sky were formed from the timid tears that fell from the eyes of a troubled soul, then the universe would be mine.  Because I'm nothing but a lost, troubled soul.  I don't know who would want me--who would want to fix me.  If I'm even worth their time, whoever finds me.

When Jongin asks if I can trust him, it breaks my heart that I can't reply.  I wouldn't think that it would hurt to trust someone, just this once.  But then I ask if it's right to believe in other people, when I still have so much trouble believing in myself.

__

"Let's play a game, hyung."

"I don't play games," is my terse reply.

"Do you want me to teach you?"

The roll of film in my hands slips clumsily from between my fingers and stumbles onto the ground.  It disappears under the table.  Jongin crouches to pick it up, his arms brushing closely against the side of my leg.  I try not to shrink away.

"What game are you talking about?" I ask.

Jongin emerges from under the table, face flushed.  He hands me the roll of film and I tuck it away.  Using this chance, he sits down beside me and our elbows touch.  He pushes a few files and envelopes out of the way, clearing a large area of the table.  

"You can put your camera away," he tells me, and I obey.  

From the left pocket of his white coat, he pulls out a small box.

"Have you seen people do card tricks?" he asks.

I push my camera safely aside before answering, "Yes.  But they're pointless things, really."

Jongin nods with his signature smirk, not bothering to differentiate between the uselessness of the people, or the uselessness of the card tricks. And though I've seen it so many times before, my heart continues to beat restlessly with his smile.  I watch his long fingers wander as he opens the box, skin sliding carefully over the hinges of the wooden container as if it were the most precious thing in the world.  Even his eyes light up, as if what the box contained was nothing short of a miracle.

Unsurprisingly, he reveals an ordinary deck of playing cards.

"You're showing me card tricks?" I muse.  "Really?"

"Not quite," he chuckles, amused by my sarcasm, or gullibility.  I can't tell.

I sense the scent of his cologne again as shifts in his chair.  Fainter, darker, this time, but it's there nonetheless.

He fans the cards out onto the table, all face down.

"It's called, 'Jongin's Game'," he announces, eyeing me out of the corner of his eye.  "Original, isn't it?"

When I don't respond, he chuckles again.   "All you have to do is choose a card from this deck.  If it turns out to be the ace of spades, I'll grant you one wish.  Easy enough?"

"And if it's not the ace of spades?"

"You'll have to do whatever I want."

I nod, uncertain about this game.  But I'm willing to play.

As I walk my fingers along his parade of cards, pondering carefully, I feel his eyes watching me.  Without meeting his gaze, I know that those russet irises are observing my every moment, my every breath.  This is a sweet revenge, I suppose, for all those times that I've studied him so closely before.

When I finally land on a card from the middle of the deck, I declare, "This one."  My report comes out as more of a question than a statement.

"Are you sure?" Jongin says.  His reply is direct, and it ignites inside of me more of a worry than a conflict.  But I don't want my decision to seem insecure.

"I'm sure."

"What if I tell you, that the first card in this deck will always be an ace of spades?"

I smile, remembering what he asked me before - about trusting him.  His words sound like they're meant to distract me, distract me as much looking into his eyes will.  So, I reach for a different card.  I've come to understand that Jongin is really out to help me in this bewildering sort of game, not harm me.  My heartbeat slows, calms.  His presence is calming.

Jongin smirks again at my indecisiveness, a stealthy grin - as if he's just played some dirty trick.  I retreat my hands unsteadily.

"You win, hyung" he says, and he flips each card again, right-side up.

"I told you," he hums with a smile, and I can't believe my eyes.  

Because they are all an ace of spades.

__

As promised, I must grant one of Jongin's wishes.  

What does he want?

"Hyung, I want a private photo shoot.  Just me. Just you."

I nod.

"And your camera."

I find his request inconsequential, an easy token to fulfill.  However, I do find it gratifying that he remembers to include my camera, the part of me that I've been known to not live without.  

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yeah.  Sure.  Okay."

But Kim Jongin, what is he hiding behind that mask of mystery and confidence?