One Day We'll Smile Together
I Got Better“Favourite childhood movie?”
“What? Mine?” The voice on the other end of the phone sounded resigned.
“No, not yours. Why would I want to know yours? Hoya’s.”
Silence.
Dongwoo spun his pen, irritated, between his fingers. He was angry and he didn’t know how to move forward so he was trying to perfect the one thing he had already begun. Movies. “I tried Fox and the Hound. He didn’t like it.”
“Have you considered the possibility that maybe Howon doesn’t want to watch something from his childhood?”
“Why not?”
The voice paused, hesitated, began again slowly. “Well you’ve noticed, haven’t you? Howon’s…different. Don’t they say that it’s your childhood that shapes you?”
He hung up.
Your family. Your childhood. Things that ed you up if they weren’t done right.
…faggots like purple…
Who had told Hoya that? Kids at school? His family? And did it actually have anything to do with solving the enigma that was his bandmate? A sort of homophobia, but one that had left a suitcase of hidden purple items beneath a boy’s bed. At the same time far too ingrained but not ingrained enough.
Dongwoo shook his head, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind. He still wanted to know, wanted to understand, but right now he needed to be accomplishing something.
He’d give up on the movie. He’d move on. The next point on his list, he’d go there instead. The only way ahead was to push forward.
The next night Dongwoo ordered fried chicken to be delivered to the practice studio during his late-night routine with Hoya.
When the delivery man knocked and opened the door, plastic bag swinging loosely from his hand, Hoya stopped dancing abruptly and stared at him but Dongwoo ran over with a smile and quickly handed over his money, bringing the food back to the center of the room and sitting.
“I got us some dinner,” he chattered happily, pulling the cardboard box from the bag and opening it so that the smell of the fried meat filled the room, “It’s always so late when we get back and dancing is hungry work.”
Hoya blinked.
“Hurry up! Come and sit down.” Dongwoo exclaimed, wanting to make it clear that he expected Hoya to join him. That if Hoya declined and walked away he’d be offended. But Hoya didn’t decline or walk away, he quietly walked over and sat across from Dongwoo, cross legged.
“Ah, chicken. The others will be so jealous!” Dongwoo laughed, taking his first bite and savouring the taste.
“Are we allowed?” Hoya said suddenly as Dongwoo stuffed more chicken into his mouth. “Our diets…”
“Screw diets,” Dongwoo mumbled around his mouthful of food, swallowing thickly and wiping his mouth. “Besides, you don’t need to lose weight. You’re fine.”
Hoya’s shoulders seemed to curl in a little at the words but Dongwoo tried not to notice.
“I just don’t want to ruin everything we’ve been working towards.” Hoya said quietly.
Dongwoo smiled. “Trust me, a few pieces of chicken aren’t going to ruin anything.” He caught Hoya’s eye and held it. “Trust me.”
And Hoya ate.
It was really nice, just the two of them sitting there tearing away at the chicken. Dongwoo talked and laughed and joked because they were friends eating together and the atmosphere was everything when you were friends hanging out. But if he was going to get to know Hoya then he couldn’t be the only one talking.
“Hoya?”
The other boy looked up, but said nothing.
“Is it hard being given a stage name?” Dongwoo had been thinking about Myungsoo’s words all that time ago, on Hoya’s birthday. It’s like joining Infinite is forcing him to erase his entire life before now. “Would you rather I called you Howon?”
“No, Hoya’s fine.” The younger boy replied, wiping his fingers on a napkin and relaxing back onto the floor.
Dongwoo waited, hoping he might elaborate, but he didn’t. “Are you sure? I don’t mind calling you Howon in private. The whole group. We don’t mind calling you Howon when we’re off stage.”
Hoya shrugged, the movement a stiff little jerk of his shoulders. “It’s not the first time I’ve changed my name.” He said softly and Dongwoo blinked in surprise. “Honestly, Howon hasn’t suited me for a long time now.”
“You’ve changed your name before?” Dongwoo couldn’t help sounding surprised and for a moment he was afraid that he might have put Hoya on edge again and broken the comfortable little cocoon they were currently existing in.
But Hoya didn’t seem to mind. “My parents named me Hodong when I was born,” he said and his lips twitched a little, almost like a smile, “but when I was 9 I asked them to change it. Kids used to tease me. My parents let me help choose my new name. I loved the sound of Howon, loved the way it sounded from other people’s lips.”
“But you stopped liking it?”
“When I was young I got sick.” Hoya said, speaking to the ceiling, high above them. “And afterwards I didn’t feel the same any more. I didn’t feel like me anymore. I didn’t feel like Howon.” Suddenly he rolled over to face Dongwoo and stared straight at him. “Have you ever felt that? Like you’ve lost yourself…” And he looked lost, confused. Searching for some kind of understanding in Dongwoo’s eyes.
But Dongwoo didn’t know what to say.
He hesitated.
And then Hoya was turning away again, fixing his eyes back on the ceiling, schooling his expression into plain indifference once more…and the moment was gone.
*
Hoya’s words had etched themselves into Dongwoo’s mind. Had scrawled their way across the backs of his eyelids when he closed them at night. Had left a faint echo that ran without pause deep beneath his ear drums. Such simple words.
When I was young I got sick…
Such simple words, but perhaps the answer to everything.
He had thought the signs pointed to abuse. Family neglect. Then the word had been added to the mix and all that that could mean. But now there was a new element in the equation and perhaps it was enough to erase all of the others.
Over the next few days, Dongwoo pondered Hoya’s childhood illness from every angle he could think of.
The illness had changed Hoya, he’d said so himself. Hoya had lost himself because of his sickness, but what did that mean?
That the Hoya, no, the Howon who had existed before had been a different person. That’s what it all boiled down to. Finally Dongwoo had some kind of explanation, some kind of timeline, some kind of source for all that Hoya had become.
The Howon who had loved the way his name sounded from the lips of others might have been a talkative person. Perhaps he had shared his feelings freely and played with his friends. Perhaps, Dongwoo thought wistfully, perhaps he had laughed all the time.
And then he had gotten sick and that had changed everything. Lonely hospitals, draining treatments; Dongwoo could picture it all in his mind’s eye. The illness must have been severe and taken a serious toll on Hoya.
Had made him quieter, more taciturn, warier.
But that was where Dongwoo hit a dead end because, allowing for all of that, what kind of illness left someone in a physical panic when they were touched by another? Besides, how could this illness explain Hoya’s family? Was it all connected? Or not?
Dongwoo hadn’t planned on asking – he knew that whatever sickness Hoya had gone through, it was a personal matter – but four days after their chicken picnic he found himself dialing the number anyway. As wrong as it felt, he just couldn’t get past the fact that without knowing exactly what Hoya had experienced, he might still never actually understand…and the answer felt too close to let that happen.
But Hoya’s brother didn’t answer.
So Dongwoo began searching the phonebooks.
He started with hospitals in Busan. Then, as each receptionist denied the existence of any record of a Lee Howon in their files, he expanded his perimeter.
It became a night-time obsession. As soon as he and Hoya returned from their evening rehearsals, Dongwoo would start up his computer, jump online with his mobile in hand, and continue the search.
But there were no answers anywhere and the more Dongwoo thought about it, dwelt on it, the more of a mystery Hoya’s illness seemed.
Then one morning the company representatives called them all in for a meeting and there was even more for Dongwoo to contemplate than ever before.
They finally had a fixed debut date.
The excitement around the room was palpable. “We’ve done it.” Woohyun said quietly from his right as the men continued to speak and Dongwoo turned to look at him. And, for the first time since they had started all of this, he thought he understood just how much it all meant to Woohyun.
This is my dream too. He had said, and Dongwoo felt a sudden rush of guilt for how little time he had given his band members these last weeks. Consumed as he was by Hoya, he had neglected his friends as they struggled tirelessly to fulfill their dreams.
“Yeah, we have,” he murmured back and squeezed Woohyun’s shoulder gently.
As they stood and pushed their chairs in after the meeting had finished, one of the managers approached Dongwoo and took him aside.
“He needs to practice his smiling.” He said with a faint gesture towards Hoya. “Have him spend some time in front of the dance mirrors tonight. He won’t be able to charm the audiences if he doesn’t smile.”
Hoya was standing by the door, head ducked, hiding the offending lack-of-a-smile from view and his dark eyes with it. Dongwoo realized with a sudden jolt that Hoya was waiting for him.
“I’ll teach him.” Dongwoo replied and grinned widely to showcase his own smile.
The manager laughed.
Hoya looked up at the sound and met Dongwoo’s eyes briefly, but Dongwoo couldn’t read his thoughts at all and when they left for the studio he wasn’t sure if he really was the right man for the job after all.
“We’re finally going to debut.” Dongwoo said that night as they lay on the floor catching their breath, “Aren’t you happy?”
“Of course,” Hoya replied, turning his head to look at Dongwoo beside him.
Dongwoo froze for a moment, caught in the intensity of Hoya’s eyes, but then he relaxed again. “So why don’t you smile?”
“I…”
“Did you forget to again?” Dongwoo teased, remembering Hoya’s words so long ago. “Well it’s about time you remembered. We have so much to be happy about.”
Hoya still hadn’t looked away. “Yes,” he said softly, “I know.”
“Come on,” Dongwoo said, clambering to his feet and waiting for Hoya to follow, “we’re going to be on stage soon. Let’s practice.”
Hoya followed him to the mirrors and Dongwoo smiled brightly at the other boy’s reflection.
“Ok, give me a smile for when our fans cheer for us.”
Hoya smiled, a small and uncertain little smile, which made his eyes look a lot less intense but a whole lot sadder.
“You’re smiling, but you don’t seem happy.” Dongwoo said quietly and Hoya dropped the smile immediately and averted his gaze. “Hoya? Be honest with me, do you ever feel happy?”
Hoya’s head shot up then and the look he gave Dongwoo was almost hard. “I can feel.” He snapped and the pain in his voice left Dongwoo in no doubt that it was true. “I’m not a robot and I’m not emotionless. Whatever people might say…”
“I’m sorry,” Dongwoo said quickly, a little taken aback, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that I think you don’t have feelings. Nobody’s been saying that.”
Hoya looked away again. “They have.” He said and pulled at the hem of his t-shirt. “Everyone always does. I just…I don’t like expressing my emotions. And- and I’ve fallen out of the habit...”
“I’m sorry.” Dongwoo said again and for a moment they both just stood there. “So…” Dongwoo began eventually, breaking the silence that had gathered, “so what things make you happy then?”
For a while Hoya said nothing and Dongwoo began to worry that he had finally lost the other after all, but then he took a little breath and looked sideways at Dongwoo, a little hesitant. “I feel happy when I’m dancing,” he said, “and I feel happy when I’m with you.”
Dongwoo had never thought that such simple words would ever be able to fill his heart the way Hoya’s just had.
He swallowed and tried not to look like a fool, his own happiness ready to burst from him. “I feel happy when I’m with you too.” He managed to get out and Hoya’s lips twitched up at the corners, the closest to a real smile he ever seemed to really get.
“We need to practice smiling for our debut.” Dongwoo said, trying to distract himself from staring at the happy little curl in Hoya’s lips. “Every evening, ok?”
Hoya nodded.
“And…” Dongwoo wasn’t sure about this one, but he’d thought about it a lot and he couldn’t see how else to approach it. “And the touching…you don’t like to be touched?”
Hoya’s expression dropped immediately and Dongwoo saw the old stiffening of every muscle returning. Fight or flight. “No,” he said tautly.
“Ok, I get that,” Dongwoo said, though he really didn’t, “but once we debut I don’t think it’s going to be helped. Group choreography, fan signings, variety shows…fan service…” he paused uncertainly. “I don’t think you’ll have a choice.”
Hoya didn’t say anything, just stood there, stiff and on edge.
So Dongwoo decided to push on. “What if we just try? Nothing major, just normal contact between friends.” Hoya was looking at him with a strange expression in his eyes. Nervous, anxious, but not quite scared. “You’ll know it’s coming, it won’t be a surprise.”
Hoya didn’t move away so Dongwoo took a deep breath and turned to face him fully.
“Right. So, I’m just going to pat you on the shoulder, OK?” Hoya didn’t reply, but his eyes dropped to rest on Dongwoo’s hand, slowly rising between them. Dongwoo paused in the movement. “This hand,” he said and waved it slowly, “I’m going to reach out to your shoulder now. OK?”
“OK.” Hoya said
Dongwoo was pretty certain it wasn’t ok if the way Hoya was holding himself was anything to go by. But he wasn’t flinching back and he wasn’t pleading with Dongwoo and as Dongwoo’s fingers came to rest hesitantly on Hoya’s shoulder he was not pushed away.
Hoya was breathing fast, shallow, eyes fixed on a point over Dongwoo’s shoulder. As though he were trying to calm himself, but he remained where he was and after a while his breathing started to even and he even met Dongwoo’s eyes again. Strained but in control.
“See, it’s ok?” Dongwoo said, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible. “You know none of us would hurt you, right? None of Infinite. So if we’re on stage and someone touches you, you don’t have to be afraid.”
He hadn’t moved his hand and Hoya had not made him. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” Hoya said, still tense, “I’m not afraid of you.”
Dongwoo nodded.
“Can we try something else?” He asked and Hoya nodded slowly. “I’m going to take your hand.”
He moved gradually, lifting his touch from Hoya’s shoulder and dropping his hand to hover over Hoya’s own, curled into a tight fist by his side.
“Relax,” He said, still not touching Hoya yet, because the other man’s breathing had sped up again and he looked a lot more panicked than he had earlier. “Let your hand relax.”
He thought Hoya was trying - he splayed his fingers out slowly, but he also withdrew his hand a little – and he didn’t look relaxed at all.
“I’m just going to hold your hand now, ok?”
But Hoya was starting to back away now, pulling his hand behind his back and Dongwoo stepped away immediately, feeling as if he’d been physically struck by the fear and revulsion he had briefly seen fill Hoya’s eyes.
For a moment Hoya looked as though he was going to be ill, but then he sat abruptly down on the floor and leaned his head back against the glass of the mirror.
“I’m sorry,” he said with his eyes closed, “I’m not afraid of you…I’m just afraid.”
Dongwoo sat some distance away feeling like a failure. He wanted to just ask, what are you afraid of? But it seemed like an invasion. He wanted to ask, didn’t your parents give you any love when you were a child? Didn’t they give you any physical contact? Or did they give you too much…
Instead he asked, “Why didn’t your parents come? The other day. Why didn’t they?”
“The dancing, they hate it,” Hoya said without preamble, and Dongwoo was surprised at the simple explanation. “I let them down. After all they did for me, in the end I still let them down. They don’t know though, that I’m not like that.” He added suddenly, though he didn’t meet Dongwoo’s eyes as he said it. “It’s not like that. That’s not why I dance. It’s not because of that…that’s gone.”
You’re not like what? Dongwoo wondered as they packed up and left for the dorm. What’s gone?
But he thought he’d done enough damage for one night and decided to leave the other boy alone.
Over the next few days Dongwoo’s nerves felt frayed. The questions were mounting, but the answers seemed to be sliding further and further out of reach. His internet searches were still showing up nothing, their training had intensified and his attempts at teaching Hoya to smile were not progressing far.
And then one night the phone rang.
“You wanted something? The other night?” Hoya’s brother asked when Dongwoo picked up and for some unknown reason his voice stilled Dongwoo’s nerves like nothing else had been able to. For a moment he said nothing, just breathed. “Are you ok?” The voice asked, and it was gentle.
“He said he was sick, as a child.” Dongwoo said at last and his voice sounded too quiet to his own ears. “He said that it changed him. Some king of illness…”
“Well that’s what they called it.”
Dongwoo ran his fingers roughly through his hair, letting out a sad huff of air. “You’re just like Hoya; I never understand what you mean.”
And Hoya’s brother sighed. “Jang Dongwoo… you have to know that that’s probably for the best, right?”
Dongwoo smiled, a small one, the way Hoya did it. “The name of the hospital?” He asked.
And Hoya’s brother told him.
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