part i

***

 

now

Somewhere between exasperation and despair, Jinri packs her bags without telling him. Outside, it's light enough that no one is awake, but birds are already sitting on the powerlines like beads on a necklace and the sky is already starless and a growing shade of pumpkin.

"Jinri!"

"I'm busy!" she yells back, and becomes frantic as she looks for a jacket she has not worn in years but has somehow decided she cannot leave without.

There is dead silence.

"You're busy? I ing need help here because I've become so busy that I can't do everything on my own. That's what people need help for!"

He appears at the door just as Jinri mutters, "You can't do anything on your own, Jongin."

Too late, she notices him, and for too long does Jongin stare. "What are you doing?"

Jinri folds her lips inwards, biting on the underside of her upper lip. "Packing." She still hasn't found her jacket.

And suddenly, there it is. It hangs on the doorknob of the wardrobe, which is gaping open and, more importantly, empty on her side. Jongin follows her gaze, his eyes skirting the barely zipped up suitcase on their bed, to the wardrobe that is half lonely.

Mindlessly, Jinri makes a move for the jacket, but he intercepts her before she can get there. Jongin shuts the wardrobe behind him, eyes locked on her eyes locked on the wardrobe behind him. He towers over her, his body a wall of thunder. "What did you say?" His voice is quiet. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," Jinri answers firmly, reaching her hand out for the jacket. "And you can't—"

Jongin grabs her wrist, pulling her towards him until they are so close that she can smell the bar on him, see the days on his jaw. "I can't what, huh?" he spits. "Stop you?"

Fear courses through Jinri's veins, pulsing at her neck, but she has prepared for this and she had promised herself that the next goodbye she decided to make, she would mean it. With all her power, she twists her wrist away, pointing her finger and targeting the corner of his eye. He falls to the ground with a scream, and in two blinks, Jinri grabs the jacket, then reaches backwards for her suitcase, and in the third blink, she is out the door.

The keys to his car are already in her pocket.

 

***

five years ago

 

In Kim Jongin's memory, 'collision' and 'bathroom' are synonymous with his first day at the arts academy and a girl brighter than winter.

Ninety-six miles had not been enough warning for him to go to the bathroom at the start of the trip here, and so, even as the clock tells him he only has three or so minutes, he ducks into the bathroom with his hands already undoing his fly, because dear God, he cannot wait even a second longer—

"Oof!"

"Jesus!"

Jongin scrambles to his feet before the other person, and with the high pitched squeal he'd been met with still burned in his mind, he already has a suspicion niggling at the back of his mind as he peers over to see who he'd collided with.

Sure enough, it's a girl.

"Um, I think you're in the wrong place," Jongin says, hopping from one foot to the other. "This is the men's' bathroom."

The girl looks up and he almost releases all hold of his bowels right then and there.. If the gods really had human children, she would have been the first, looking like Alaska in November there on the floor, cocking that left eyebrow of hers. "The men's?"

"Uh..." It dawns on Jongin then, and too late, that he hadn't actually looked at the bathroom's sign before going in. "Yeah," he says finally. The way she's looking at him makes him feel legless.

She eyes him for a moment longer. "Tell you what," she says, getting to her feet. "Go on ahead. I'll stand outside and make sure no other girls comes in."

"What—"

"You look like you really need it."

Jongin opens his mouth, then closes it. Judging from the expression on her face, nothing he's going to say will change her mind. Ducking his face away from her view, he lets himself into a cubicle, feeling like a complete idiot for hop-skip-limping his way right into this situation.

A minute later, he exits, and the girl flashes him a knowing smile before flitting out the door without another word, leaving him to stare at the space where she had been standing.

 

*

 

Less than five minutes after the toilet dilemma, Jongin finds himself having to stand against the back wall of the auditorium with the other people who had been late, so as not to disturb the introduction assembly.

Jongin jumps when his wandering eyes land on the person next to him. "You," he exclaims in a whisper. It's the girl from the bathroom.

She stares at him, not nearly as shocked as he is. "Hello to you, too."

"You're a student?"

"Yes," the girl replies with a roll of her eyes, as if it's obvious. Jongin supposes it is.

"Are you... a dancer?" Jongin ventures.

She smiles for the second time since they'd met. "I'm an actress."

"An actress," Jongin parrots, loud enough to incite a few disapproving stares from the people around them. "You're joking."

Her eyebrows arch, mildly unimpressed. "Are you this rude to everyone you meet?"

Jongin gapes, but the guilt at having been reprimanded fades when he sees that she's flashing a smile. Joke. It was a joke.

"I'm Jinri," she says, offering a hand.

"Jongin." He shakes, not sure if it's her hand that's warm or his body.

One look into her eyes, and Jongin thinks that maybe it's both.

 

***

five years from now

 

There's still an hour left before closing time, and Jinri is where she has always been. Freeze-dried beautiful as ever, she poses for countless photos in front of a mock glass coffin. Two of the dwarves had called in sick today, and the manager had declared it would make no sense for Snow White to have five dwarves, so it's just her today.

"Can I have a photo with you, princess?" A man's voice calls. Jinri turns towards the sound of the voice, but before she can reply, the man who had called turns away and hands his camera to a stranger in the crowd, giving him instructions on how to work the camera.

Jinri smiles. A grown man asking for a photo without the nudge of a Disney-enthused girlfriend or a bunch of kids. How cute. "Sure, you ca—" She freezes.

The man is coming towards her now, and every fibre of her body seizes up as if electrocuted. Jinri recognises the set, planes, and curves of his face, and although his hair is a different colour, she recalls the way it felt in her hands, back when it was black and not this horrendous shade of blonde.

Jongin.

He stares back at her, but Jinri misses the smile that comes right after his initial shock, because she's looking down at the streak of white that runs down the inside of her forearm like quicksilver.

"Do you want a photo or not?" the stranger behind the camera looks up from the lens, eyebrows raised.

Jinri's eyes focus. "Uh, yes, he's ready. Sorry." Even after all these years, she's still answering for him.

She stiffens as Jongin stands next to her and loops an arm around her waist, but for the sake of maintaining her image, does not push him away. Just as the man begins counting back from three, Jongin says, "Hello," out of the corner of his mouth. "Fancy seeing you here."

Jinri's face hardens a fraction. "Did you know?"

Jongin turns his head to look at her, just as the camera flashes. "Know what?"

"That I'd be here."

"Sorry!" Jongin calls back to the man, who had yelled that neither of them had been looking at the camera. He flashes a smile and asks graciously for another shot, then turns back to Jinri. "No."

"Three, two..."

Jinri pastes on a smile, all red and pretty. "After this, I never want to see you again," she hisses through her teeth.

"One."

 

***

four years ago

 

Jinri leaves the academy the next year, telling Jongin that she would rather compete in real life than in a classroom in which everything she learnt wouldn't be half as valuable as experience.

"I get your point, and it's great that you're doing good so far," he says, "but what if you have trouble later down the road? Don't tell me you're just going to come back to school." Jongin frowns. "Would they even let you?"

Casting an almost longing glance out at the ocean before looking back down at her lap, where her ice cream looks about to melt, Jinri sighs. "No, they probably wouldn't," she replies. "But it's a risk I have to take. I want to be free, Jongin. Free to be whoever I want to be."

They sit in silence for a moment because Jongin understands, and he's always believed understanding doesn't always necessitate a response. The sky is the colour of kerosene and it's burning the way only summer can. "How about you?" Jinri asks, breaking the silence. "How are things going?"

"Things are alright." Jongin shrugs. "I got the male lead in the mid-year production that's coming up."

"Alright," Jinri echoes dryly, shaking her head with a wry smile. "You're doing amazing things, Jongin. Don't understate your talent."

"I wasn't," he argues. "I was being modest."

"Well, stop." Jinri makes a face, and Jongin can't help but smile.

"How did I wind up with someone like you?" he wonders aloud, taking her in with the air of someone who has all the time and joy in the world.

"Sometimes I ask myself the same about you," Jinri answers, grinning impishly.

This time it's Jongin's turn to shake his head and smile wryly. "Sure." His eyes follow the trails of pink beginning to streak the sky, and he sighs. "Looks like it's time to get you home. I've got school tomorrow, so I have to be back before curfew."

He stands, and a sharp pain shoots up his leg. Jongin's face contorts as he suppresses a cry, but a wince still manages to escape. Jinri, who had been in her own world a moment before, turns to him in alarm. "Are you okay?"

The pain has faded to a dull throb, pulsing near the junction of his ankle and calf. "Yeah," Jongin says, nodding. "Probably just stood up awkwardly or something."

 

Jinri's apartment is first on the map before the academy dorms, so Jongin accompanies her the whole way there. "I'll see you later, princess," he whispers against her lips as she leans in for a kiss. Jinri pulls away just as Jongin starts getting bolder, nipping at her lips.

"Behave," she says, as she walks through the gate. Once she's in, Jinri turns with a softer look. "Look after yourself, okay?"

Jongin grins, lifting his arm in a half-wave. "Okay."

Only after she has completely disappeared does Jongin lower his arm. He starts down the street towards the academy, but just after he turns the corner from Jinri's apartment complex, another burst of pain explodes in his leg.

At first, Jongin grits his teeth and is determined to ignore it, but suddenly the heat of the pain travels upwards, seizing his hip, and he falls to the ground, landing on his side. Black and white spots dot his vision, and he tries manoeuvring himself into a sitting position at the very least, but his joints feel like they've been soaked in Vesuvius and moving his lower half is too much.

He manages to pull out his phone to call for help. For a moment, Jongin considers calling Jinri, but he decides against it. She'd told him to look after himself.

 

***

five years from now

 

Probably less than ten metres from her car, Jinri looks up to see Jongin waiting for her. A frown puckers her brow. "I thought I told you I didn't want to see—"

She's cut off when Jongin envelopes her in a hug that's as sudden as it is unwelcome.

"Get off me," Jinri demands, though against Jongin's chest is sounds little more than a muffled scream into a pillow.

When he finally lets her go, Jinri looks up into his face and finds that she cannot read his expression. Between breaths she wonders what he's been up to in the last half decade. Before she can say anything, Jongin interrupts her once more.

"Do you want to have a drink?"

 

***

four years ago

 

Jongin is diagnosed with arthritis the day after Jinri announces she got the lead role in the upcoming production at the theatre downtown.

"You can still dance, though, can't you?" Jinri asks, even though she can feel the earth lurching under her stomach, the way it happens whenever the universe is trying to tell her the stars are misaligned.

"I could force it, but it'd hurt like hell," Jongin mutters through a clenched jaw. "Every time I take a step, it feels like there's acid in my bones. The other day, the choreographer wanted me to lift Victoria, but I couldn't hold either of us up. It's burning me alive, Jinri," he whispers wretchedly.

She takes him in her arms, nursing his head in the crook of her neck. Jinri smells like home, hope, and all the other things he isn't supposed to have. "Don't worry," she whispers. "You'll find a way."

"It's burning me alive," Jongin sobs again.

 

***

four years from now

 

The waiting room is all chrome and white leather. Jongin sits back in his slacks and cloud white shirt, thinking he fits right in.

"My God," the person next to him exclaims under their breath, and Jongin turns. "You're Kim Jongin."

Jongin regards the male stranger beside him with a smile that isn't quite friendly. "Are you here for the casting call, too?"

The man nods. "I don't think I have much of a chance, though, seeing as you're here," he says, looking rather dejected. "Even if the editor liked my shots, I doubt any of the models would take a liking to me over you. They'd pressure the editor into choosing you."

Jongin laughs, throwing his head back with volume that no one else would dare attempt in this fancy but largely empty and intimidating room. "You think models have that much power?"

"Some do," the man says, shrugging, though he looks embarrassed. "You'd probably know the girls with that much influence. You get a lot of them, don't you?"

Surprising the man, Jongin's smile fades. He looks down at his nails, though there is no interest in his eyes. "No," he says flatly. "I have a girlfriend. I just... I haven't seen her in a long time."

"Oh." There is silence for a moment. Then, "Long distance?"

Jongin glares at the man, thinking his balls must be made of diamond for him to have such guts. But even under Kim Jongin's furious stare, the man doesn't back down. Eventually, Jongin purses his lips. "Something like that."

The other man squints at him for a moment, then murmurs a sympathetic kind of noise. Jongin contemplates how much it would cost him legally if he were to throw this man out of the window.

"Say," the man continues, as if to alleviate the situation, " I was wondering about something."

One eyebrow raised, as if to say, What a surprise, Jongin drawls, "Shoot."

"I heard you got your first job with only one photo in your portfolio, even though the directors asked for a full portfolio."

"That's right."

The man's eyes widen so much that they could very well pop out of his sockets. "D-do you have the photo with you?"

Jongin's lip curls, pride kicking in. "Of course I do. This is a casting call," he reminds the man silkily.

"Can I see it?"

Common sense and pride wrestle inside Jongin for the briefest of moments, but in the end, the latter takes the upper hand. So he shows the man the photo.

 

---

 

A/N: To my immense surprise, I have gotten this chapter done on time. I'll go back and edit this properly later. Also, this is the first of probably two (or three) parts, so expect that the next part, going along with my ridiculous style, will be either very long or very short. Anyway, thanks for reading, stay tuned for the next part :)