• genre: angst, romance •

 

He never knew when things started to be like this. He would have never guessed that the people you've called friends for so long could become strangers. No, cut that. Worse than strangers.

They had been all such good friends from the start. They were 5, always sticking together, doing anything together, telling each other everything : Sehun, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Junmyeon and him. They were inseparable from the beginning, swearing that they would never betray each other.

Oh, the irony.

Because now, as he was looking at how the trees arched under the rain's power, he realised they were just like them. Just like those trees. They seemed so sure of their friendship and future, having everything sorted out, thinking that they would never separate, never fall. Who knew all those promises would go down the drain as soon as things got a bit more complicated. Just like those weak trees, they stumbled and fell as soon as the wind came over them.

Sure, Jongin was a really friendly and sociable person, always saying that the more, the better, but maybe that was all it took for them so start falling apart. As soon as the group added a few more members, things got hard to handle, all because of the wrong people that were there at the wrong time, spreading rumours and making all of them hate each other.

The worst part was, he had nobody to blame. They all made mistakes, to the point where it didn't even matter who did what. It was all gone. Everything was gone.

How silly of him to think that summer would change things. How silly of him to think that, just because the weather was sometimes perfect for those nights when they would hang out at Suho's pool, they woud all accept to at least try to reconnect with each other. But now, even the weather seemed to hate him, splashing his windows with such a force.

He was so stupid, thinking that things would get better.

 

"Dear, where are you going?" his mother asked as Jongin strode through the kitchen to grab an apple before leaving, his shoes and coat already on. "It's pouring outside."

Jongin sighed, stuffing the apple in his backpack, along with a bottled wated and some biscuits. He loved his mother, really, but sometimes she was too worried. "Yeah, mom, it's been raining for almost 4 days, I'm not going to stay in my bed just because the weather ." he said, before adding, "I'm going to the studio."

Dancing seemed to be everything he had left, unfortunately. It was the only stable, pleasant thing left in his life, and he loved it so much to the point where he would spend a whole night there (luckily, the guardian was nice enough to give him a spare set of keys, seeing he was so dedicated). Nights at the studio were always refreshing, with the music flooding through his body, caressing his skin, making him move without even thinking, just feeling. Though it was great, the splash of reality when coming home was sometimes unbearable.

He was 19, you would think he was mature enough to handle the lack of friends, but the lack of a father was unbearable for everyone.

It happened at the same time. His father left them just when Jongin needed him the most. He never even said  a proper goodbye. Jogin, just like any other teenager, had a hard time both with school and friend, and all that his father did was twist the blade in the cut. And now Jongin didn't have a cut. He had a hole.

"Jongin honey, can I ask you something before you leave?" his mother muttered softly, her small hand on his shoulder.

"Sure." he said, turning his full attetion to her.

She seemed to carry a lot of weight on her shoulders, her creased forehead and her fidgeting hands a sign of how unsure and insecure she was feeling. How hard the words seemed to get out. Jongin felt the need to hug her so, so tight, but he was afraid that if he might, she might start crying.  "Do you want to spend the night at the studio again? Because i-if you do, it's really fine.." she started, seeming like she changed her mind, not wanting to tell him anymore.

"Is everything okay?" Jongin asked softly, afraid that if he raised his voice she would break in front of his eyes.

His mother was the only person he could talk to. The only human being he had left.

"I-I just thought that.."

"Mom."the boy started, letting his backpack fall on the floor, his hands finding their way to gently hold her. "You know you can tell me everything, right? Anything you have on your mind, just say it. I'm right here. I'll always be."

Those words were already etched in his mind. Those words he always spoke to her, when the lonely, dark nights became too much to handle for the woman.

"I just wondered if you could come home. At any hour , really just..just.."she struggled. "It gets kind of lonely here, at night. And maybe, if you could come home it would be-"

"I will."he said, smiling reasuringly to her. A smile that wasn't necessarily fake, but loaded with sadness."Don't worry, okay?"

She nodded weakly, before letting her hands play with Jongin's brown locks, fluffing them. "You are so brave. So strong." she whispered to him, almost as if trying to convince herself.

 

 

It was around 8 PM when he arrived at the studio, Jongin being lucky enough to find a cab to get there without soaking all his clothes.The halls were mostly empty, most people leaving the place before 7 AM, except for the ones that had to train for an important event or performance. Jongin wasn't either of that, but nobody asked him any questions so he assumed it was fine for him to be there, no matter the hour.

He qucky found the roomn he was looking for, a room named i88. He never knew where did the name come from, but he liked it because it wasn't really big, but it had mirrors everywhere, the floor a few shades darker than the rest of the training rooms in the building.

He let his backpack fall on the floor, going to the stereo system to connect his phone and, before he knew it, the music boomed through the room, the walls softly vibrating. He closed his eyes, moving to the center of the room and inhaling deeply, feeling the way his chest was flooded by the bass from the song he chose. It was one of the most amazing, unexplainable feelings in the whole world.

Where did all those friends go?

How could things fall apart so easily?

Why did friendships last so little?

How can people lie like that?

Why did Dad left them? Did he left them for another woman? Was he any happier now? What about his mother?

Would his mother ever smile again? Will her tears even stop?

Will things get any better? 

 

"Sorry, are you Jongin?" a voice suddenly stopped him from his movements, his trail of thoughts interrupting.

He turned his head around, only for his eyes to fall on a small, skinny girl.

"Sorry?"he said, not sure of what she said because of how loud the music was. He strolled to the stereo system, lowering the volume before looking at her again.

"Um, hi."she said quite shyly, though her smile was bright. Jongin wondered for a second how could she smile so big when there was literally nothing to smile about. Weird. "I was asking if you are Jongin."she repeated herself.

"I am." the boy shortly asnwered.

"Cool. I heard so much abut you." she continued, her tone excited, her hands doing a weird movement.

"You did?" his eyes widened.

"Yeah. You are a great dancer. Well, at least that's what my father tells me." she said, her smile still there.

The boy was a bit taken aback by her whole presence, everything about her seeming to ooze positiveness and charm, her smile giving him the impression that she was that type of cheerful, cute girl. Which he didn't know what to think about. The only thing he wanted right now was for him to be alone, enjoying the few hours he had left before going back home to his probably crying mother.

"Your father?"

"Yeah, um. He's your trainer."

The boy gasped softly, the first time he actually had other epression rather than the blank one since the girl came.

"You're Mr.'s Wu daughter? I didn't know he had one.."

"Well, nobody really knows. I haven't really been a part of this."she said, her hands gesturing to the whole building, probably reffering to the fact that she wasn't into dancing, which made Jongin wonder why she was there. The girl seemed to read his mind, quickly adding "I'm here because I finally decided to try and persuade dancing. My father told me I can stay how much I want here, but unfortunately there's only one spare key."

 She wants my spare key, Jongin thought. He couldn't help but feel a bit irirtated by the whole thing, That key was a small piece of metal, but it felt much more than that to Jongin. It was the key to a place he felt so close to, and for someone to want to have it seemed..wrong.

"Sure." he muttered, trying to conceal his dissapointment and frustration. This girl didn't do anything to him, yet he felt like he wanted to never see her again. She smiled too much anyway.

He opened one of his backpack pockets, fishing the keys and giving them to the girl who never seemed to stop smiling at him.

"Thanks." she said softly. "I'm Gieung by the way." she then continued, offering her hand to him.

"Jongin." he said, finding in him that it would be rude to just ignore her.

They shook hands shortly, before she turned around to exit the room. Just before she stepped out of the room though, she turned around to look at him just as he was trying to turn the volume of the music up.

"By the way, it's just like those girls said. Your skin color is really pretty."

 

 

A/N

I don't know what I just did, but it's going to have a Part 2 aswell. If that makes sense.  :D