#neohbh

[byunbaekby]

title — the things i know pairing — soccerplayer!jisung x female reader genres — angst, fluff, high school au, strangers to lovers au, first love au, long distance relationship, hurt and comfort, coming of age overall warnings — underage drinking, cancer, character death, language, mentions of hickeys, fainting, mentions and descriptions of hospitals, soccer inaccuracies, lots of angst (you’ve been warned!) word count — 14.8k summary — jisung has never been keen on growing up, or even understanding what adulting means. at seventeen, all he knows is: he loves soccer (and he’s damn gifted at it), and girls are very pretty but also plenty scary. then he met you, his first love who turned his life upside down and made his stomach roll like the soccer balls he loved to kick around the field. but when your cancer comes back after years in remission, jisung thinks, he doesn’t really want to grow up anymore. playlist — falling, harry styles ; your guardian angel, red jumpsuit apparatus ; my first and last, nct dream ; bye my first, nct dream ; orchid, jeremy zucker

additional — for the heartbreak hotel collab hosted by @nct-writers​. my concept in the five stages of grief was “acceptance and hope.” thank you to my babes @suh-insane​ and @astroboy-lele​ for proof-reading!

The thing about knowledge is that you never know when or what you’re going to learn. There’s no way for you to predict what will be of your mind when you fall into bed that night, surrendering to the moon. In the morning, there’s no telling what knowledge your brain will choose to store away for remembrance over the course of the night, and what your brain will decide is unnecessary. What you decide not to remember is a memory you can’t even miss. 

When you wake up every morning, you don’t know if you’ll go to bed having met someone who will change your life forever. 

At seventeen, there are two things that Park Jisung knows. One, he loves playing soccer (and he’s damn good at it, the way his long legs carry him across the field in what seems to onlookers like seconds). Two, girls are very pretty but plenty scary as well. 

The day starts out normally, like any other away game that the team plays.

He wakes up at six o’clock on the dot, and eats a large breakfast to hold him over for the game, then packs a few granola bars into his soccer bag and lets his sister know he’s leaving before he jogs the way to the park where the bus is waiting for his team. The ride is normally an hour long, so he either tucks his earbuds into his ears and tries to get in a short nap or he converses with his teammates. 

Today though, the bus ride is three hours long. Crossing his hoodie-clad arms across his chest to act against the cold air of the bus, he focuses his gaze outside and watches as the town goes by. 

“Yo, Jisung, check this out!” 

At the sound of his name he turns his head, blinking when he sees a number of his teammates in the surrounding area nudging him closer. A few of them are leaning in towards a particular teammate, who displays a proud expression. “What’s up,” asks Jisung as he too leans forward toward his team member, curiosity slightly piqued.

Jaemin, the teammate in question, tugs the collar of his jersey down to reveal his skin. On the milky white curve of Jaemin’s collarbone, he sports a dark purple bruise, surrounded by a perimeter of yellow where the skin seems to be healing. There’s no question as to where that mark came from, and it definitely wasn’t from soccer. 

“Ew, man, that looks sick!” comes from Donghyuck, along with a few comments from others, either approving or disturbed. 

“Where’d that come from?” 

Renjun slaps Mark on the chest, eyebrows furrowed at him. “Obviously, it was from Anne! Didn’t you see the way they were all over each other at last week’s game?” Jaemin grins, eyes going lovesick at the thought of his girlfriend. 

Jisung’s expression contorts into one of disgust. “That’s disgusting, man,” he comments, nose still scrunched in distaste as he leans back into his original spot on the bus seat. Another thing he’ll never understand is why people are so desperate to grow up, as if giving hickeys and sneaking vodka into their Hydro flasks makes them somehow more adult. 

He slips his earbuds into his ears, playing some light muzak to lull him to sleep with his head leaned rather uncomfortably against the cold window. 

-

Jisung doesn’t think that he’s exceptionally smart; he’s gotten passing to above average grades his entire life. He’s not musically talented, nor is he particularly a smooth talker. 

But hearing people call him gifted is a feeling he relishes every time.

With his long legs and strangely large and spacious lungs, soccer called the boy’s name from the time he could run. He dominated the peewee league, then the club teams until this point, at the ripe age of seventeen waiting to be scouted for college teams. 

He wasn’t usually one to brag but today, he had shot the winning goal. 

Everyone has their thing, the one thing that they excel at. For Picasso it was painting, for Yiruma it was piano, for Renjun it’s spending four hours every night researching alien conspiracy theories. For Jisung, it’s soccer. But he’s never been exceptionally good at speaking to people. 

“What’s your name?” He hears a voice, cheery and upbeat, behind him as he’s grabbing his bag on the side of the field. The game is over, and the crowd begins to dissipate while the team members are gathering their things to return to the bus. Turning over his shoulder he sees you, wearing a bright smile. Cautiously he responds, “Jisung Park.”

“Oh, so you’re Korean then. I’m gonna write that down, okay? How long have you been playing soccer?” You ask next, and now Jisung’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“Write what down?” He asks, trying to keep his tone as polite as possible. Even so, how is he supposed to react to a random person at a game suddenly appearing to ask him questions? As he wipes his forehead with his towel he adds, “Who even are you?”

Quickly you say, “I write in the high school newspaper, and wanted to get a close-up of today’s star.” It’s then that Jisung realizes the camera slung around your neck and the notepad in your hands. 

“Why are you writing about me? I don’t even go here.”

“Because,” you say, a slight sigh creeping into your voice now. “Our team sucked today. You straight up stole the show, and no one wants to read about a team that lost. I’d rather give them a peek at the star.”

“14!” His coach yells his number once, causing Jisung to look over his shoulder to the source of the voice, where his teammates are already beginning to pile onto the bus. The boy in question slings his bag over his shoulder and tucks his soccer ball under his right arm before finally getting a good look at you. “Shouldn’t you be writing something to raise your team’s spirit or something? Giving them support, maybe?”

You shrug. “I don’t like underdogs. Don’t like writing about them. I’d rather read about the heroes. So how long have you been playing soccer again?” 

“Jisung!” Now it’s Chenle calling after him, and he really needs to go. Eyes flickering to the street where his teammates are gesturing for him to hurry, he looks back to you. Your eyebrow is raised expectantly, right hip popped out as you wait. Before he starts to run off, he manages a small, “I’ve been playing eleven years. Um… bye.”

Then he turns away and his long legs carry him to the bus a few meters away. Even so, behind him he can hear your loud, proud voice yelling after him with the name of your high school: “Check the online newspaper! You’ll see my article!”

What a weirdo, he can’t help but think as the team cheers for their star player getting on the bus back home. 

-

A week later, it’s another Saturday night following a victorious win against another team in the local area when Jisung gets a call from Chenle. “What’s up,” he asks immediately, leaning back in his desk chair to throw his soccer ball up in the air and catch it with one hand. 

“Wanna party tonight? Celebrate our win a bit?”

“Where?” asks Jisung. He’d never been big on parties. For one, his long legs that were great for running weren’t exactly skilled in dancing or anything of the like. Secondly, he’d definitely be expected to talk to girls and he’s not really in the mood to make a fool of himself. 

“Taeyong’s house. Me, Mark, Hyuck, and Jaemin are going. Renjun’s busy, and Jeno wants to spend time with his cat. What do you say? Wanna join?” 

Jisung sighs. He was honestly just exhausted. “Think I’ll pass. My sister’s been getting on me about my bio grade.”

Chenle groans on the other line. “Lame.”

“Next time, promise,” says Jisung. 

“Fine. Have fun studying, looooser!” This is the last thing Chenle says before hanging up, leaving his best friend alone to shake his head with a small laugh. Then he remembers something, some words that a stranger had yelled out to him a week before. 

Sitting up at his desk, Jisung opens his laptop and types in the name of your high school, along with your town. A few clicks around the website finds him at the online news section, plus a scroll or two past some questionable articles, there it is: a picture of him mid-kick, the winning one if he remembers well enough. His nose is scrunched in concentration and strands of dark hair cling to his forehead. 

Soccer Superstar from the opposing team steals the show and the win!

A small scoff leaves Jisung’s lips, trying to humble himself as he reads over the first few paragraphs. 

Our school’s boys soccer team faced a devastating loss on Saturday in the face of the opposing team’s ace player (pictured above). The game ended promptly when the superstar player confidently kicked in the final shot, though the result had been clear from the first half of the game. 

A short interview with the hotshot player revealed that he has been playing soccer for eleven years! A senior from Neo Culture Prep, it is clear as day that the school is very lucky to have such a prodigy on the team.

Who is this superstar player, you ask?

His name is Jisung Park. 

Geez, Jisung thinks. He knew he was good but not that good. The article did a good job of spicing him up, making him look like he was a lot better than he really was. There’s too much fluff; sure, he’s skilled and he knows it, but—he touches his cheeks. They’re warm—the article makes him sound like a soccer god, and it’s beyond embarrassing. Who even are you?

A scroll to the bottom of the page tells him all he needs to know.

Article written by: (Name) (Last Name).

-

He doesn’t return to your town for almost two months. There’s a tournament today, the hours lurching between games giving him more than enough time to psych himself out about how he’ll play. 

It’s noon, the sun shining overhead causing a sheet of sweat to amass on Jisung’s forehead. His team has just won their second match of the day, and in waiting for their next game, his eyes are scanning the bleachers set up for observers on the side of the field. It’s not hard to find you, same camera hanging around your neck. 

With his long legs, he jogs over to you towel in hand. You’re not at all focused on him, eyes pressed into the camera’s viewfinder as you attempt to capture a good shot of the current game. 

“I don’t like the stuff you said about me in your article.” 

His deep voice suddenly intrudes your thoughts, and you jump in your place. As you turn to him and drop your camera from your face, he catches sight of the way your eyes widen at his appearance. A flood of recognition replaces the shock before you tilt your head. “Why? It was all good stuff.” 

Patting at his forehead with his towel, Jisung responds, “Yeah, exactly. I’m not that good. I could’ve played better that day.” This brings a small snort from you. “Really! They were narrowing the angle on me, I should have flanked or lofted.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“It’s—” 

You cut him off before he can explain. “You’re good. Why are you so shy to accept that?”

“Why do you keep trying to paint me as the main character of the team? Everyone works hard together.” He questions, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Because you are,” you respond matter-of-factly, focused enough to press your eye into the viewfinder again. A few seconds pass, and Jisung recognizes the click of the camera as you capture something on the field. “You’re clearly the best player on the team by a long shot. You’re the main character, the hero.”

At your response, Jisung shakes his head in disbelief and scrunches his nose. There’s really no getting through to you. “I’m more than the hero you think I am.”

You turn to him, facial features contorted into a mischievous expression. “I’m sure you are.” Jisung realizes then that you’re holding something out to him. Taking it, he observes it. A… business card? With your name and number on it. “(Name). Aspiring journalist.”

“You have a business card? Aren’t you like, seventeen?” 

You shrug, smile tugging on your lips. “Never hurts to be prepared. Call me.” It’s the last thing you say before you flitter away on quick feet, leaving to interview the team which has just won their match. He watches you leave, wondering if you know what kind of effect you have on people. 

-

“I don’t know, man. She seems kinda crazy,” says Hyuck from the seat next to him, leaning his head back. However, a sudden bump in the road causes the bus to jump, startling the boy a bit. Jisung had just shared his thoughts about asking you out with his friend, who immediately made a face and shook his head. 

“Crazy?” Sure, you’re a bit forward and maybe slightly reckless, but he doesn’t think you’re… crazy. It’s been a few weeks since he last saw you and from the conversations you’ve shared over text and phone… he thinks he likes you. Like, really likes you. It’s goddamn terrifying.

“Yeah, we all saw her article,” Chenle speaks up from the seat behind him. “She’s obsessed with you.” 

Jisung rolls her eyes. “It was one article. That doesn’t mean she’s obsessed.”

“I think you should do it. It’d be funny to get on camera in case you fail,” snorts Renjun.

Jaemin pipes in from in front of them. “But if you do ask her out, she lives three hours away. That’s a lot of distance.” He’s the only one in a relationship, so maybe he has the only opinion that Jisung trusts. 

“Other people have done more distance.”

Now, it’s Jeno’s turn to pipe in. “But you’re not other people, you’re Jisung Park. You’ve never had a girlfriend.” Should he feel insulted? Chenle also adds, “Jeno’s right. You’re a senior! It’s your year, and you wanna spend it tied down to some girl who lives three hours away?” 

But you’re not just some girl. Mark’s the only one who hasn’t spoken, and most of the time, he’s the most level headed. Jisung turns to him with a sincere expression and asks, “What do you think?”

Though he had been trying to stay quiet throughout the conversation, he stretches a bit in his seat before finally saying, “I think you should go for it.”

“I think you should too!” Jaemin says. “But I think you should be prepared for what it means.”

“Whatever you decide to do, we’ll hype you up.”

“I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” Jisung asks. “If she rejects me, at least she’s three hours away, right?” There’s murmurs of agreement around the seven of them. He tries to sound relaxed, but the thought of asking a girl out for the first time causes his heart to thump loudly in his chest. Oh god… should he do it?

“So?” asks Hyuck after a few seconds of silence, and it’s then that Jisung realizes everyone’s looking at him. “Are you gonna do it?” 

He gulps. “... No idea.”

A collective groan emerges from the group of boys. Hyuck, ever the genius, straightens his back with a glint in his eye. “How about this? If we win, you ask her out. You’ll be riding on a winning spree and it’ll give you confidence. If we lose then… there’s more girls back home.” 

That… doesn’t sound like a bad idea. But oh god, he doesn’t know which option he wants. 

-

For the first time, Jisung feels like his legs are knotting into each other, tumbling over his feet. 

Soccer had always come easily to him, like breathing. But for some unknown reason, he’s totally off his game today. He knows the play, his strengths, and even the weaknesses of his opponents, but he trips over his feet. 

No, that’s a lie. He definitely does know the source of his nervousness, and it lives in the form of a girl with a camera and a notepad sitting in the bottom corner bleacher. His breath is frantic as he zips back and forth across the field. The sounds of the game are ringing loud in his ear, and he can hardly even focus on the black and white ball being kicked around, let alone what the coach is screaming at them. They’re so close, one more goal should do it. 

He knows what’s going to happen. Jisung Park had always been known for his ending kicks.

But what if he messes it up? What if he fumbles the kick or whiffs it? 

Then again, does he even want to win? That’s a dumb quesiton—of course he does—but the question is: is he ready for what comes with the win? He really shouldn’t look, shouldn’t peek for just one look at you, but he does. You’re scribbling in your notepad, and he swears in that millisecond that you look so pretty. 

Yeah, he wants it. He really wants it. 

He’s ready, and—oh god, Sungchan is passing the ball to him. Suddenly Jisung is on high alert, winding up toward the goal. He captures Sungchan’s ball with ease, no longer tripping over himself as he makes his way to the end goal. 

One kick, just nail this one kick. 

He winds up, turning his body to the correct angle; he kicks it and…

Please go in, please go in, he’s begging. 

The ball flies in straight past the goalkeeper, who jumps toward it but there’s no use. It all happens so quickly, and suddenly his team erupts into celebration when the referee blows his whistle. Still standing there, Jisung catches his breath and stares into the goal. 

He won. 

That means… He glances at you. You’re wearing a huge smile on your face, and without noticing it himself, Jisung has his own proud smile on his. His momentary peace is interrupted by his friends running toward him, nearly knocking him over in their celebration. 

“Yeeahhh, Jisung Park, you’re the man!” 

A few minutes later, Jisung tries to calm his nerves after thanking the opposing team for a good game. When he returns to the sidelines where his stuff is, he can barely get some water down his throat before Chenle is pushing a soccer ball into his hand. “Good luck, dude,” he says, and Jisung can feel the others’ eyes on him. Oh no, it’s time. 

He steals a glance at you, and—Oh. You’re looking at him too. A bashful smile spreads over your lips and you turn away, focusing back to your conversation with your friend. His heart is beating so loud, but Jisung doesn’t think it’s because of the soccer game. Turning back to his friends, he groans, “I need a pep talk.”

“Okay, uh,” Mark attempts. “You got this, you know you’re the man. Um… if she rejects you, then it’s okay, there’s other fish in the sea!” A groan erupts through the group. “That’s not a pep talk, Mark!” 

“Listen,” says Chenle suddenly, grabbing Jisung’s shoulders to stare at him. “She’s not gonna reject you. You’re Jisung freaking Park! The star of the team and my best friend! Go get ‘em, and don’t take no for an answer!” With this, he gives Jisung a small push in the girl’s direction.

“Actually, uh—I think no means no,” pipes in Jisung but everyone cuts him off with a collective, “JUST GO!” 

Pink spreads across his cheeks as he slowly walks in your direction. At a good distance away, he places the coveted soccer ball down on the ground and winds himself up for a kick. Okay, he just shot the winning goal of the game. If he can do that, he can do this. Running forward the slightest, Jisung gives himself a silent pep talk as his foot taps the ball. It goes moving from its spot, flying through the air… and that’s when Jisung realizes his mistake. Instead of gently tapping against your ankle like he had planned, the ball flies straight in the air, knocking the side of your head rather harshly. 

“Not that hard, genius!” Chenle chastises from behind him, and Jisung has to hold back the desire to actually groan in that moment. He immediately runs toward you, hands out in surprise. “Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, reaching out for you. You’re rubbing the spot on the side of your head where the ball had hit, and he wants to disappear right there. 

He never should have done this. 

Why was he born again?

“I’m so sorry,” he says again for the nth time, feeling shame and humiliation speed up his spine at the way you wince when you touch the side of your head. “Oh my god, go get me an ice pack,” he demands over his shoulder at his friends.

“No, no I’m okay,” you reassure everyone. Now all the eyes are on the two of you. 

A few moments of silence pass as you eye the soccer ball which has rolled some distance away, crouching down to pick it up. Ball in hand, you scan the outside of it… and destroying all of Jisung’s hopes and expectations, you burst into laughter.

You laugh so hard, the boisterous sounds leaving your lips so vehemently that you have to cover your mouth with your hand. Jisung furrows his eyebrows. “I just kicked you in the head and you’re laughing?” Oh god, he must have done more damage than he thought. You don’t answer, the only sounds leaving you are giggles and guffaws. It’s only making him feel worse; geez, he wishes he wasn’t so tall so he could positively disappear right now. 

You finally look up at him and meet his gaze, your own eyes crinkled in delight. Flipping the ball over in your hands, you present to him the ball. Written on one of the large white spots reads a firm, “Go out with me?” in black marker.

“This is why you kicked me in the head?” You ask, still chuckling the slightest. Bashfully, Jisung nods. You laugh again. Every time you do that, he feels like getting smaller and smaller. “Of course I’ll go out with you.”

Wait, really?

He says these words aloud, eyes wide at your ease. He hadn’t expected you to actually say yes! “Sure,” you respond with a smile. “Though I could’ve gone without the head injury.” 

This brings a laugh from the both of you. He really had been worrying so much about nothing. His frame instantly relaxes, taking the ball back from you. “You sure you don’t need the ice pack?”

“No, I could definitely use an ice pack.” 

-

The first date happens two weeks after that game, and it’s his first real date so he has no idea how to act. Everything goes fine—he takes you to the local arcade in your town, and though he’d deny it to the ends of the earth, you beat him in foosball. 

“Ha!” You had screamed. “Superstar soccer player Jisung Park, and you can’t beat me in table soccer?” His cheeks had burned pink at the sound of your voice reverberating around the public arcade, but honestly the mirth in your eyes was worth it.

His cheeks are red but the air is cold on the walk home to your house. He had promised to have you home by nine, and it’s—he checks the time on his phone—8:45. 

A look at you, holding the giant stuffed teddy bear that you had won (he hadn’t won it for you, because lord knows he’s horrible at skee-ball), and Jisung can see the air leaving your lips. “Hey, you cold?”

“Nah,” you shake your head, though you scoot closer to him on the sidewalk. His tongue laves over his bottom lip quickly, and he almost wants to hold your hand. But that wouldn’t do much to keep you warm. 

He purses his lips, then immediately his hands are working at taking off his hoodie. That’s a cute thing, isn’t it? Boyfriends giving hoodies to their girlfriends? “Here, take this.”

When you take one look at the hoodie in his hands and roll your eyes, Jisung knows he’s in for it. “Seriously? You can’t fool me with some cheesy rom-com moves,” you laugh.

Ouch.

That hurt his pride. He was just trying to be nice, maybe a tad bit romantic, but you clearly weren’t having it. He should have known you would be so tsundere, and maybe he does.

He knows you act strong, like there is no way on the face of the earth that you would ever swoon for his lame attempts at flirting. But when you reach upward on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before you step into your house, he knows you like it just as much as he does.

-

For the longest time, it’s been just him and his sister Naeun.

His parents passed away shortly after his birth, so they stayed under the custody of their aunt. When his sister became an adult, she became his legal guardian. Since then, it’s been the two of them against the world.

Though kids had sometimes made fun of him for not having a mom or a dad, Jisung never paid those kids much attention. Sure, he didn’t have a dad to teach him how to drive or a mom to attend his parent-teacher conferences, but he had his sister and she was all he’d never need. Naeun gave up everything for him: she didn’t go to college, she traded nights out with her friends to help him with her math homework, she worked two jobs so he could play soccer. She had worked so hard, perhaps sheltered Jisung so much that he had always lived a comfortable life.

It never occurs to him just how much she had struggled until the morning she asks him to get a job. 

She sits across the dining table at breakfast, and over his cereal, Jisung notes how shaken and guilty she looks. There must be something on her mind, but that’s how his sister’s always been; she doesn’t like to worry him, and speaks up when she’s ready. When she finally tells him, he blinks, confused. 

“I can’t pay the bills alone. Not with soccer getting more expensive, and the landlord raising the rent—that bastard,” she mumbles under her breath, surprising Jisung. She hardly cursed. “It’s… It’ll just be for a short time. I promise.” She has tears in her eyes. Jisung furrows his eyebrows; she must feel guiltier about this than he thought. Immediately he nods in understanding. “It’s fine, Noona. Don’t worry about it. I’ll, uh, go out looking this weekend.” 

He takes another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, thinking that the conversation will end there. But it doesn’t, his sister’s quiet voice reaching his ears. “Promise me you’ll go to college, Sung. Promise me you’ll make it. Make it all worth it.”

And it’s in that moment, in the way that his sister’s voice is on the edge of breaking, that it occurs to him just how much his sister has sacrificed for him. How quickly she had to grow up, having become his parent at eighteen, just a few months away from how old he was now. And he was nowhere near as responsible as her. 

He swears in that moment that he’ll uphold his promise. He’ll get a scholarship, he’ll help his sister out. He’ll pay back everything she’s given up for him.

-

Finally, today you’re in town.

It’s the first time you’ve come to visit him in his town, and he’s so excited to show you everything: his school, his favorite ice cream place on the corner of the street from his apartment building, and even the park he grew up kicking soccer balls at. Even after all these years, him and his friends still came here to practice their soccer technique.

Today, the two of you are sitting underneath a tree at said park, his head in your lap. You’re running your hands through his dark hair, and wow, he’d never admit that it feels so good. 

There’s a small laugh heard from you as you comb through his locks. “You should dye your hair.”

“Suddenly?” He asks. “I don’t even know what color I’d dye it.” 

“You should do like, a blue or something. Oh, purple! Purple would be nice!” Your excitement causes him to roll his eyes promptly, sitting up. “I’ll dye my hair purple if you dye your hair purple,” he retorts to you. 

“Maybe I will,” you say, standing onto your feet now that he’s gotten off of you. Wiping the grass from your legs briefly, you nod toward his soccer ball a few feet away. “C’mon, let’s play.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You wanna play soccer.”

“Yeah, is that so surprising?” 

“Um, yeah, a little bit considering the fact that you said it’s boring and that you complain having to get up to go to the fridge at two in the morning,” quips Jisung with a laugh. You only roll your eyes in response. “I never said soccer was boring, I just said it’s only interesting when you play. And you’re gonna teach me right now, so stand up,” you say, extending a hand to him.

He takes your hand, rising to his feet before picking up the ball. “Fine,” he relents, a smirk making its way onto his face. “Try to keep up.”

For fifteen minutes, the two of you race up and down the park’s open grass field, chasing the ball in every direction. He evades you, long legs carrying him and the ball while you chase after him. 

“Wait,” you say mid-sprint, slowing to a stop. Your chest is heaving, and slowly Jisung stops his running also. “You good?” He asks from a few feet away.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, reaching a hand up to wipe at your forehead. “Just… gimme a sec.” A minute passes of you catching your breath, but Jisung doesn’t pay it much attention—a person who didn’t play soccer and have trained lungs like him would struggle.

“Okay, okay,” you finally say, shaking your head a bit. “Let’s go again.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, worry seeping into his tone.

“Yeah, yes! Just—just go.”

So he does, beginning to kick the ball down field as he chases after it, stopping past center field to pass the ball to you. You’re racing after him, and though the ball is coming your way, you trip over it, falling straight onto the floor.

Your head hangs low, and he immediately rushes over to you.

“Hey, hey! You okay?” He asks, kneeling down but your eyes are closed. He swipes a hand over your forehead, and it’s that moment when he realizes your eyes are closed. Did you pass out? Had he pushed you too far? “(Name)?” 

No response. Oh god, what is he supposed to do?

Is he supposed to check if you’re breathing? Where can he check for a pulse again? In his moment of inadequacy, he pulls out his phone and calls his sister.

She’ll know what to do, but it pains him that he doesn’t.

His sister arrives quickly, and immediately takes you to the hospital. According to her, you do have a pulse and you probably just had heat exhaustion. He sure hopes so… 

For a few hours he sits in the waiting room as he awaits the arrival of your parents. They rushed over from your town, four hours away, and this definitely was not the impression he wanted to have on them. Head in his hands, he can’t help but worry about you.

You do wake up, eventually but he can’t see you until your parents arrive.

They take you back home. You’re walking and talking again, but as you shoot him a weak smile from over your shoulder, walking down the hall and out of the hospital, Jisung can’t help but feel that something has gone terribly wrong. 

-

He swears he’s never been so tired. 

Working at McDonald’s isn’t horrible, per se, it’s just different. But it definitely takes more out of him than soccer ever did. The second he walks into his room Jisung drops his backpack on the bean bag next to the door and almost collapses on his bed. Throwing his work cap on the floor, he runs a hand through his hair and pulls out his phone.

The best thing about coming home from work, is coming home to you.

He immediately fishes for his phone from his pocket and opens it to speed dial. Pressing on your contact, Jisung presses the phone to his ear and waits for his girlfriend’s voice on the other end. The line picks up.

“Hey,” he says, a smile spreading over his lips without him even knowing. 

“Hi…” 

Something’s wrong. Your voice is missing its signature excitement, the snarkiness he had grown accustomed to. He sits up in bed, eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything okay?” 

Yes, you’re supposed to say. Everything’s fine. Everything’s just peachy.

But you don’t. “I got a call from the hospital.”

After you had fainted the other day playing soccer with him, the hospital had run a few tests to make sure you were okay. He knew this, you both did. They were supposed to say that you had been dehydrated, that you hadn’t eaten in a few hours. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, Jisung…” 

“What, what is it?” 

There’s a momentary silence on the other side, then a shaky breath. “When I was ten… I got really sick. I was always having nosebleeds, always tired—some days I didn’t even want to get out of bed. They took me to the doctor and they told me that… I had leukemia.”

Jisung releases a heavy breath, staring into his sheets. No… don’t say it.

“I fought it for two years, and I beat it. God, it was… it was really hard, and I got through it. It’s been five years now but—but the hospital called and…” Please, no. ��My cancer came back.”

Jisung’s never felt this way before; like all the air in his lungs have been pulled from his chest, lost to the universe. Not even when he sprinted across the soccer field, not even when he had gotten punched in the chest. All those times, his chest burned with fire, be it anger or passion. But now… his chest feels empty and hollow and numb. He manages to spit out a few words. 

It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to be okay, you’re supposed to go to prom together. Graduate. He’s supposed to get a soccer scholarship, you’re supposed to study journalism at the same school, and the long distance would cease to exist. You were supposed to be happy. “But it’s gonna be okay, right? You’ve fought it before, you can do it again.” Perhaps it was a bit selfish of him to ask for consolation when you were the one with the illness. But you were a journalist, never a liar. Your voice is weak, like you’ve already given up.

“I don’t know.”

-

“What’s up with you?” Chenle’s voice is almost worried, but Jisung wouldn’t be able to tell because his eyes are focused on the ground. He’s been kicking a soccer ball around with Chenle and Mark for a while now, but there’s clearly something very off about the teenager today.

“Yeah, is something wrong?” Mark asks.

Jisung blows some air into his cheeks. Should he tell them? It’s your private information but technically, you’re his girlfriend right? The news has been troubling him for a few days now, and he’s had no one to talk to. Surely, he can’t talk to his sister about it. 

He should just spit it out. “(Name) has cancer.”

It’s like the world stops, his friends taking in his words. “W-What? What did you just say?” Chenle speaks first, then Mark quickly follows. “Did you say (Name) has cancer?”

Keeping his gaze on the ground, Jisung nods and gives the ball a small kick in Mark’s direction. “Yeah. She had leukemia when she was younger, and… the other day she went to the hospital and they said that it came back. Her cancer came back.” When he looks up, both his friends are looking at him with genuine concern etched across their faces. 

“Seriously? Cancer? And you’re still dating her?” Mark asks, causing Jisung to raise an eyebrow in confusion. Did he just insinuate what he thinks he did?

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Chenle speaks up next, trying to defuse the sudden tension. “Jisung, you guys have only been dating like, a couple months. It was just like yesterday that you kicked her in the head asking her out!” 

“And?” Jisung asks pointedly. Suddenly he’s in front of Chenle, and though he technically towers over the latter in height, Chenle’s chest is straight as he makes his point.

“Is it really worth it to stay on a sinking ship?”

Jisung’s voice reaches a new level of low, erupting from a place deep inside of him that he’s hidden away. It’s a place of rage, of anger sizzling and bubbling in his stomach. Suddenly they’re both chest to chest, unwilling to back down. “Now, I know you’re not talking about my girlfriend.” 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mark interrupts, hands coming between them to tear the two boys apart. “Calm down. Both of you.”

“He started it,” accuses Jisung quickly, dark eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is not a sinking ship. Neither is my relationship, and I don’t need you to comment on it.” He looks to Mark for guidance. Mark had always been the most logical one, the one he would look to for help, and though he thinks that Mark will agree with him, he almost looks guilty.

“But it’s true, Jisung. We’re worried about you. She’s just a girl. Is she really worth hurting yourself over?” He had trusted Mark to be on his side, but now Jisung just releases a scoff. He had been hoping for his friends’ support, but it seems like he’ll be going through this alone, then.

-

You’ve been avoiding him.

Of course, there’s not much that can be done to avoid him when you live hours away from each other. But you haven’t been responding to his texts, and when you do, they’re mostly short and taut. You’ve been cutting your phone calls short, often saying that you’re tired. Maybe you really are, but it hurts hearing the line cut off, not knowing how you’re really feeling.

Jisung can’t help but feel like he’s failing. He should be doing better.

It’s like your relationship is an hourglass, running out of time with every day that he spends going to school, work, or soccer practice. Like you’re getting further and further away with each short text message.

His entire life has been spent running. Speeding forward center field like a lightning bolt, long legs carrying him far ahead everyone else. But for the first time, Jisung feels like he’s falling behind.

-

It only takes a three hour bus ride (four, with the added stops) but in Jisung’s mind, it’s all worth it. It won’t be the first time he’s gone over to your house, but it is indeed the first he’s ever showed up unannounced, which is a strange appearance given that he lives three hours away. But with everything happening, he’s willing to give up the day and six hours worth of travel for you.

Sitting on the bus, he pulls out his phone. It’s early, like nine in the morning, but he knows you have a doctor’s appointment in a few hours so you’re definitely awake. He presses the facetime button, but you quickly reject his call. His eyebrows furrow, but lighten with an incoming text from you.

[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : jisung, i’m using the bathroom rn. call you back in a bit.

He nearly rolls his eyes, but it’s a sweet one. You’re always so candid.

[ message to : (Name) ♡ ] : you act like you’ve never facetimed me on the toilet before.

[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : wow, call me out more why don’t you

[ message to : (Name) ♡ ] : pick up my call, brat ♡

[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : no, You pick up My call :p

Seconds later, his phone is lit up with an incoming facetime screen. A laugh almost leaves him at your tenacity before accepting the call.

The call opens up to the visual of his girlfriend, you in your PJs fixing the phone up against the mirror in the bathroom. He sees himself reflected in the mini screen, hoodie on and earbuds in wearing a boyish grin. “Hey pretty girl. Make sure you wash your hands.”

You roll your eyes at his remarks. “Hey ugly boy. I’m already doing that. What are you doing?”

“Just making sure, because I don’t think you brushed your teeth after you fell asleep on call the other night,” he teases, clicking his tongue as you’re the only person he can tease so easily. “I’m on the bus to practice.” A lie, but a white one at that. “What are you up to?”

You wack your still dry toothbrush in front of the camera, nose scrunching up in the slightest. It’s a habit of his that you’ve picked up. “I’m also doing that right now.” You wet the brush, putting some toothpaste on it. “I thought you didn’t have practice this Friday? Or was that next Friday?”

Your actions bring a low laugh to his lips, and his eyes momentarily focus on the passing landscape outside the bus window as he’s now three hours out of his normal perimeter. “Uh, Coach wanted to add in a practice today. Don’t you have a doctor’s appointment today?”

You nod at his answer, toothbrush in mouth. “I do, I think it’s like, in a hour or something.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies simply as the bus comes to a stop, your house only a short walk away. He stands, gathering his bag. “Gotta go, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, pumpkin honeysuckle,” he snorts, making his way to the front of the bus. 

Your brows furrow as you give him a disapproving look through the screen, shaking your head slightly before moving to rinse your mouth. “Talk to you soon, don’t get hurt at practice or I’ll fight you.”

He scoffs as he steps out of the bus, into your neighborhood. “Like you could take me. Later.” You probably could, given your determination, but he gives you a nose scrunch before ending the call. He’s only taken a few steps when his phone rings with a text message.

[ message from : (Name) ♡ ] : you and i both know i could take you :)

A snort leaves him. Classic (Name).

When he arrives a few minutes later, he hesitates at the door, only praying that the person who opens up is you, not your parents or god forbid, your brother. It only takes a few hard knocks before he hears your voice on the other side, determined to see just who the hell had the nerve to interrupt your laziness this early in the morning. “Who the fu—”

He tsk’s in distaste. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the first words to leave his girlfriend’s mouth are cuss words. “You potty mouth. I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he says, opening his arms.

Jisung’s not quite sure what he expected. For you to jump in his arms? What a delusional boy. You blink for a few seconds, then suddenly you’re throwing yourself at him, fist first to land a deserved punch to his arm. “I thought you had practice? What are you doing here and why do you look so much cuter than when I last saw you?” 

“Well, I lied,” he snickers, patting your head. “I’m here to annoy you, obviously. But you look too. For a—” A person dying of cancer, but he can’t say it. He won’t. “—person who barely got up twenty minutes ago.”

Your hand immediately begins rubbing the spot that your fist landed, worried that it might actually bruise in a bit. Jisung asks, “So are you gonna invite me in, or?”

“What are you, a vampire or something? I’m pretty sure you weren’t given permission when you entered my heart so just come in and cuddle me before my appointment.” 

Your response catches him off guard so he blinks before entering in silently, sticking his hands back into the loose fitting pocket of his hoodie. Even after six months, he’s still not used to you saying those kinds of things. Hell, he still gets sweaty holding your hand.

“Hey Mom! Dad!” You’re grabbing onto his arm, tugging him into the kitchen. “Jisung’s here!”

-

After a small breakfast and conversation with your parents, he’s given the permission to go with you to your doctor’s appointment. The two of you take the bus, hands interlaced as you sit, and Jisung smiles awkwardly when an elderly woman compliments the two of you, calling you a cute couple. 

He’s never really been in a hospital before. 

For an arduous soccer player, he’s lucky enough to never have suffered a pain great enough to warrant a visit to the hospital, nor had he ever been sickly enough to send him there. It’s for that reason that he feels slightly out of place, tucked in his hoodie whilst trying his best not to gaze at the others in the waiting room. Instead, he tries to keep his gaze focused upon his girlfriend as you remain bright despite their surroundings. Your hands intertwined, he feels a comfortable warmth seeping into his veins, gold in color and feeling. Gold like the ring on your finger, and like your heart. 

He’s so lucky to have you.

“I don’t really have anything planned,” he says softly, giving your hand a slight squeeze. It’s true that your itinerary is next to nonexistent for this impromptu date, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. If anything, a hospital is a strange starting destination for a date but your relationship is a bit strange. Quietly, he says to you, voice low in the hopes that no one overhears, “Don’t hospitals scare you?”

He knows that you spent a good portion of your time here; surely you must have grown accustomed to it, but Jisung was not. Hospitals were cold… white and bleak and much too quiet.

“Nah, not really,” you answer with a shake of your head. “Except for all the souls wandering around.”

Jisung blinks. “Souls?” He gulps.

“Yup. The souls of the passing.” You click your tongue, along with a wink in his direction now that you’ve successfully managed to creep him out. Do you ever stop making jokes?

The door to the waiting room opens and a medical assistant calls your name. “Hey, I’ll be right back,” you tell him, standing and releasing his arm. He gives a hesitant nod, watching as you leave through the door and disappear down the hall. 

When you emerge, some forty-five minutes later, the mirth is gone from your eyes.

He knows right away: you didn’t get good news. His heart is pumping in his chest, like he’s waiting for you to collapse right there. Years could pass, and Jisung swears he’d never be able to erase that memory of you. “Are you—” Okay, he wants to ask. But you just give him a small smile and shake your head. It’s not the time. He cuts himself short, reaching a hand out to you with a small, albeit forced, smile. “Let’s go on our date.”

-

It’s a long afternoon, spent in the arcade where you had had your first date—this time, for memory’s sake, he gets another ring from the claw machine—then McDonald’s and ice cream. He treats you to lunch, courtesy of his employee discount, and the entire day is filled with laughter and mutual teasing. Everything feels like it’s okay again. 

Jisung enjoys these moments the most.

The moments where he doesn’t feel like he has to be anybody: not the star soccer player, not the kind understanding younger brother, or a kid trying to look grown up at an adult party. With him he’s just you, awkwardness and quirks altogether. You’ve never hid yourself from him, and now he doesn’t have to hide himself either.

Now that the day is touching evening, the two of you sit at a park, relaxing mindlessly on the swings next to each other. Now that the romantic buzz is gone, the two of you have fallen into a comfortable silence.

“Thanks for coming this far, Ji. This was… nice.”

A small smile spreads over his lips. “It was nothing. I wanted to do it for a long time.”

“No, really,” you say, turning to him with a thankful smile. Your eyes are serious now, and Jisung feels the sunlight seep into his skin. “I really missed you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. This moment feels heavy, like he’ll remember it for years to come. “... I missed you too. A lot.” You both turn back to face the sunset, watching the sun fade behind a hill. It’s setting, streaks of gentle reds and soft-spoken oranges staining the empyrean firmament. It’s then that Jisung feels his heart begin to sink, like the sun, into the pit of his stomach.

“Are you scared?”

A moment passes without you saying anything, then you speak up beside him. “Not really. I mean, it’s just the hospital. The only thing that’ll suck is not being able to leave. I never thought I’d say it but, I’m really gonna miss going to school.”

Did you think you were never going to return? “Are your chances good?”

The implications from earlier at the hospital return. What are the chances that things aren’t looking up? “They say so,” you breath out.

That’s not good enough. Anything could happen. Jisung needs clarification, confirmation. He doesn’t want to lose you. “What if you—”

“I might.”

A beat of silence.

Jisung feels like crying. It gathers in the back of his throat. “What would I do without you?”

There it is: the implication that you’ll be gone. That one day, Jisung will have to wake up and face a world without you in it, a world with less happiness and less passion. A world where there isn’t someone who will call him ugly when really they think he’s the cutest to walk to the earth, or where there isn’t someone to make fun of him the way you do. A world with less love. 

Your voice is dry as you speak. 

“You’d move on.”

“I don’t know if I’d ever love anyone like you,” he finds himself saying. 

“L-Love?” You suddenly say, voice the smallest he’s ever heard. You’ve always had the loudest voice, most prominent in his brain, but his words seem to have caught you off guard. “Do you? Love me?” 

He doesn’t know what love feels like. He’s just a teenager, what is he supposed to know about love? About loss? Is it all-consuming, like in the movies? Is it meant to hurt? “... I think I do. I think I love you.”

There’s a sniffle next to him, and he turns immediately, alarmed that he may have made you cry. There are tears in your eyes, but they don’t fall. Being a writer, you talk too much. Your words are eloquent and true, though sometimes Jisung has a hard time getting you to stop talking. But this time, you choose to abandon words altogether, instead leaving your swing to stand in front of him. Compelled by nature, he stands too. Instead of speaking, you reach upward on your tiptoes once more. Except this time, you kiss him. 

Your lips meet, and everything is golden.

And against the backdrop of the setting sun, it feels like the closing scene of Jisung’s very own romance movie. But this isn’t the end, he knows.

-

When he walks you home, he offers his sweater again. 

This time not out of obligation or the desire to appear more romantic than he is, but because you’re cold. Really cold. You’re shivering, arms wrapped around yourself not giving enough warmth.

“Here,” Jisung says, already beginning to take off his hoodie, but you stop him with a hand and a pointed look, though your chattering teeth cause you to stutter. “S-Still trying to woo me with cheap rom-com tricks?”

You’re stubborn. You’re so stubborn and he hates it.

“Just take it,” he says, pushing it into your arms. 

“No,” you argue. “You have a three hour ride home, it’s late and you’ll be cold.”

It’s obvious your illness has made you even more sensitive to the cold, and for that reason, Jisung’s fine facing the biting cold as long as you’re okay. “You’re freezing, please just take it.”

“Jisung, I said no.” Your voice is stern now, and he gets the feeling that he’s upset you. He gives up, gnawing on his bottom lip in deep thought. He just wants to make you feel better, doing what he thinks will help but with you, it never does. You’re so independent, too much so and much too stubborn to admit you need his help… “Fine,” he says before putting his hoodie back on. If you won’t take his warmth, then he’ll give it to you. 

He lifts his arm, placing it fully around your shoulders and pulling you to him so your bodies meet. “At least let me hold you,” he mumbles. Your frame freezes in his for a moment, until you wrap your arms around the circumference of his chest. 

Burying your face into his side, you relent into him. “Okay, fine.”

And later, he finds that you’re right. When he sits alone on the dimly lit train, he realizes that the warmth he had been feeling earlier, bathing in the sun’s rays with your lips, is long gone. All he feels now, is cold.

-

“You skipped practice the other day.” Jisung looks up from where he had been sitting on the bleachers, tying his shoes after practice. It had been a tough practice; he had missed quite a few passes and whiffed more than just a couple shots. He can only blame himself. He’s been distracted; alongside his worries about you, he also has a job to attend to and even more, the results for his dream school’s soccer scholarship is supposed to come out soon. His gaze falls on all six of his closest friends, looking down at him. 

“Yeah, something came up,” he says easily.

“More like, someone,” retorts Donghyuck easily. “We know you ditched to go see your girlfriend.”

“And what about it?”

“I don’t know what’s happened to you, man. You never want to play ball with us anymore, you don’t want to hang out with us. Whenever you invite you to a party, you raincheck. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” Chenle spits out, arms crossed over his chest.

“Chenle,” says Renjun carefully.

“No,” interrupts the boy in question. Chenle looks straight at Jisung, who stands now to meet the others’ heights. “He needs to hear this. Ever since that girl came around, it’s like you’ve lost your way. You used to be all about soccer and friendship. Now you always have her on your mind, and—did you see the way you played earlier?—she’s messing you up. Your head’s not on straight.”

“Chenle, stop.” Donghyuck speaks up now, voice low as he tries to stop the younger from going off. “You’re not the same Jisung I met in peewee camp, and I don’t know if I like who I’m seeing,” Chenle finishes. 

That’s enough for him. His voice comes out before he can stop it.

“You know why I never party with you anymore?” Jisung suddenly says, voice booming and clearly at his limit. “Because I’ve always hated partying. Because I have a job now, and because I don’t want my sister to stay up worrying about me while I’m getting piss drunk. I hate drinking, I hate trying to look cool while actually looking fucking stupid, because I don’t know how I can even think about partying when my girlfriend is fucking dying.” 

A hearty scoff leaves his lips, as though he can’t even fathom the words he’s faced today. “You don’t even know me anymore? That’s where you’re wrong, because you never knew me. Not all of me. You only see me as the star player who’s gonna get you your win. She knows me, she knows all of me, and she doesn’t try to change me. Well, sorry that I’m not the same kid you met years ago who let everyone walk all over him. I thought you guys were my friends, but clearly you only want me around for as long as I can play.”

Those are the last fiery words to leave Jisung’s mouth before he turns on his heels, storming off the field and away from everyone else. He just needs to get out of here, away from everything before he ruins it. Mark and Hyuck follow after him, while Jeno and the rest hold Chenle back. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Mark says, ever level headed. “We know what you’re going through.”

Though he appreciates their concern, Jisung spits, “No, you don’t.”

Both of them stop walking, no longer chasing after him as Jisung pulls out his phone. 

A new email.

He immediately opens it, eyes glazing over the text.

Dear Jisung Park,

Thank you for applying to our university’s soccer scholarship. We reviewed every application with our utmost dedication and attention. Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that we cannot accept your application at this time. Our soccer program is one of the most competitive at this school, however we encourage you to reapp… 

What a load of shit. 

-

The past few weeks have been horrid. 

Soccer is as tense as ever, though Jisung would be lying if he said that his fight with Chenle didn’t fuel him to work even harder during practice. His job sucks, especially after someone spilled a bucket of old oil on him (it was cold, thank goodness but still gross nonetheless). So far he’s gotten another rejection. Who knew that getting into college would be this hard?

He wishes that he could say his relationship with you is the saving grace, but it’s really not. You’re in the hospital now, and the two of you have been talking less and less. Even now with his feud between his friends, he feels even more alone. Today when he calls, you sound even more tired than usual. 

“Hey, chocolate honeycomb bunny,” Jisung says, giving his absolute worst at giving a cringe-worthy nickname. It seems you’re too tired to even give a repulsed response. 

“Hey.” You’re quiet for a moment, only your breathing heard across the line. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” sighs Jisung, running a hand through his dark locks. “Just exhausted. My coworker is getting on my last nerve.”

“The same one you talked about last week?”

“Who spilled the dirty oil on me? Yeah,” he responds with a roll of his eyes. “We’ve both been working the same amount of time, I just want to know why he’s so slow to pick it up.”

It’s characteristic of you to agree, seeing as complaining is one of your favorite past times. But you don’t, voice only coming out softly across the call, “Maybe just give him some time.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he sighs. “How about you? Are you feeling better?”

“About the same,” you respond truthfully. God, you sound so tired. He almost feels bad for making you talk to him when you clearly sound exhausted. “Any more results?” You ask, regarding his college acceptances.

“No,” he shakes his head. He doesn’t understand. He’s a good student, he’s done community service. Just what more do they want from him? “You said I was special, but I don’t think the colleges see that.” 

He can almost see your small smile in his mind. “You are special. Just ‘cause they don’t see it doesn’t you aren’t.”

“Eh, I don’t know,” Jisung says, playing with a loose thread on his bedsheet. 

What you say next catches him off guard. “Maybe we can both be college-less, together.”

“What?” He asks, brows tightening in confusion. “Didn’t you get into the journalism program at that one university?” He’s caught you. You’re silent on the line for a few long seconds, but the quiet is deafening for him.

“I did, but Jisung, I…” You hesitate. “I’m not going.”

“What do you mean you’re not going?” He asks.

“I… I don’t know if I want to.” In a small voice, you continue, “I don’t know that I’ll make it that long.” What are you saying? What are you implying? Heart racing, Jisung tries to decipher these words in his mind. To him, it just sounds like the end.

“You’re giving up already, I hear it in your voice.”

“I’m not,” you say, a broken promise. “I just… want to be prepared for the worst.”

“The worst isn’t coming. You’re going to get through this. You’re going to beat it. I know you are.” It becomes blatantly clear in this moment that the person Jisung is trying to convince, is himself. 

His pleas fall upon deaf ears, because you argue back in what seems like the strongest voice you’ve made in months. As though you’ve amassed all your remaining energy for this conversation. “I’m not a hero, Jisung. I’m not cut out for this. The doctors said it’s not looking good.” 

“Then prove them wrong. You’re gonna beat it.” 

“I don’t want to be the underdog either, Ji. You know I hate them.” What you say next has his blood boiling. “I don’t deserve it anyways, no one would want me to come back.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung raises his voice now, volume growing with each word.

“No one likes me,” you spit out across the line, and he doesn’t need to see you to imagine how incensed you are at the moment. “I’m rude, I’m loud, I cross boundaries and I say things that hurt without caring about who it touches. And before you yell at me that no one thinks of me like that, these are things I’ve heard from other people.” Your voice breaks, as does Jisung’s heart. “If this were a movie, no one would root for me to survive.” 

“I do,” Jisung says, voice strong. “I’m rooting for you. Every. Single. Day. And who cares about how other people see you? You’re rude? You’re crass? I like you because of those things, because you’re different from me. Am I not enough?”

“You’re different,” you relent, voice tired. “You’re the only one who matters. But I—“ You choke up. “I’m just tired of fighting. I don’t want to go to sleep every night not knowing if I’ll wake up the next morning. I want to be strong, and I want to face every day knowing that it could be my last… I don’t want to leave anything behind—”

“You’re not leaving,” he cuts in.

“—and I can’t go through every day letting you think that everything is okay, because they’re not. But I’m ready to let go, Ji. Because I’m happy with what I had, with what we had, and I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Tears are falling down his cheeks now, suiciding off the surface of his face and staining his bed sheets. He doesn’t know if the tears are the result of sadness, anger, or the pain of loving someone the universe would never let him have, yet it hurts all the same. “But I love you! I told you that I loved you.”

“I love you too,” you cry, and the sound is heartbreaking. “But I just wish that were enough.”

A pregnant silence consumes both of you. All that can be heard is the sound of your mutual crying, along with your breathing that Jisung had learned to fall asleep to. When you speak again, your voice is steady. You had always been the stronger one. “I don’t think you should call anymore.” A few sniffles. He can’t even speak. “Goodbye, Jisung.”

Then the line dies.

-

It’s Christmastime. He knows it’s cold, probably even colder in the hospital where you are.

Now, Jisung knows you don’t want anything from him. You don’t want him around. In the past weeks he must have become someone even he wouldn’t want around. And though he gets the feeling that you’ll never need him again, he figures you could use a sweater. It’s nothing much, and really he thinks it could be better. 

A hoodie, not fit to your size but slightly larger because he knew you well enough to know you’d like it like that. On one sleeve, near the wrist, a patch of a soccer ball. He had learned how to sew it on himself. On the other, his initials. JS.

He sends it in the mail, in a box to the hospital with your name and room number on it. There’s no letter, nothing. Just his bare soul in the form of an oversized cotton hoodie. He’d send it himself, appearing at the door to your hospital bed, but something tells him he’s run out of things to say.

-

His phone rings at three in the morning. 

He knows what it means.

February 2nd, at 2:39AM. The world lost you. 

It would never be the same again, and neither would he.

-

Grief is an interesting thing, someone once told him. 

He doesn’t quite remember who it was, whether it was his sister comforting him after the death of their goldfish, the guidance counselor at his school giving him a required appointment after the passing of a student, or yourself. But as the hours go by, it feels more and more like a weight in his chest that has been sitting on a hollowed place in his heart. 

Grief is indescribable, and Jisung doesn’t know if this is because his limited seventeen year old vocabulary hasn’t collected enough fitting words to even begin to verbalize his emotions, or if because it really is indescribable. 

The first few days had been hell. 

He had almost become someone that he didn’t know, barely stepping out of bed and perhaps worrying his sister out of her mind. It was his way of ignoring the world, dissociating himself from the irrefutable truth that you weren’t really gone. You were still laying in bed, three hours away as usual, struggling but still fighting. If he could lay in bed, sleeping the days away and ignoring his text message condolences from his friends, he could pretend for some time that things were the way they were, eight months ago. 

Eight months before it.

Eight months before he lost you. Before your relationship, a burgeoning dandelion in the nook of spring. But dandelions represent rebirth, the reappearance of hope like a beacon after an arduous winter, and you would never have another spring. 

He could not pretend, because every morning the sun rose again, and he would have to reach his head out from the burrow of blankets he had buried himself in. He would need to face it for himself that he woke up, and you didn’t. His friends texted. His sister knocked on his door and begged him to eat, even going as far as to cook his favorite foods as a means to lure him from the darkness of his corner. He ate. But it was never the same. 

Messy bedheads, earbuds tucked in with muzak playing gently like the thrum of his heart which beat enough for the both of you, tear-stained pillow cases, knees to the chest, light failing to shine in through the blinds which remained closed, counting the seconds between each breath, dreaming insubordinate dreams. 

The first few days went like that. Empty.

Then he was angry.

Angry because the world had given him a love worth changing for, then ripped it from his inexperienced hands. He had never had anything in his life! Not a mother, not a father. Could he not have this one lily, this flower which sought to remind him of the fragility of life? And even more so, he was angry for you. You were a fire—you were a bottle of passion bursting at the seams, a well of untapped potential, a boldness which no one else could emulate—and the universe crushed you beneath its foot. 

And suddenly, the emptiness of your hollow space reflected upon him.

He should have been better, should have done more. A soccer ball proposition? A sweater? It was laughable; that was the least he could give? If only he had called, if only he hadn’t listened to you like the meek child he was, things could be better. 

And above all, he was sad. 

What would he do without you?

Moving on seemed useless. A light at the end of a dark tunnel which stretched for ages. An epiphany that you would never reach. 

He just hoped that it was not cold. That you left the world in a ball of light, surrounded in the warmth of family and love, not the rigidness of the unforgiving world. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he hoped that the soccer ball sleeve had been clutched to your chest, and that his hoodie could have provided just a little bit of that warmth. 

-

The walking pattern outside his bedroom door is different from his sister’s. So is the knock on the door; his older sister’s is much more quiet, reserved, as though she was afraid to wake him. This one is harsh, and it reverberates through the room before the door opens.

The air in the room is still for a moment.

“Jisung.” 

It’s Chenle. And Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, as well as Jaemin. They all take their seats either on the end of his bed, the floor, or his beanbag, but Jisung doesn’t move from his place underneath the blankets. 

“What do you want?” He manages to groan out in a small voice.

Someone places a hand on his leg, a comforting gesture. He thinks it’s Jaemin from the gentle touch. “We’re here for you.”

Donghyuck comments, “You haven’t been to practice this week.” Of course that would be what they would mention first. Jisung scoffs. “I’m kind of going through something.”

“And we’re here.” Mark’s voice.

“We wanted to apologize.” Chenle speaks now, and despite being best friends since they were five, he’s the last person Jisung expected to say sorry. In their decade-long friendship, Chenle was the confident one, the one who charged forward without consequence while Jisung trailed behind, cleaning up his mess. “We’ve been… assholes, simply put.” Had he been in higher spirits, Jisung would have snorted. “We thought we understood what you were going through, and we thought it was dumb. To let yourself get hurt over some random girl… but we were wrong. We didn’t understand your point of view.”

“Not even a little bit,” says Donghyuck, head hanging low. 

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be your friends. Your team! We’re supposed to lift you up when you’re down and… well, we haven’t been doing that. And we’re sorry. I’m sorry.” Chenle says. Slowly, Jisung lifts his head from below the blanket to face his friends. They all wear a variety of expressions, all somber. “And we know now… she’s not just some random girl.”

Yeah, they’ve all been assholes, some more than others, and Jisung can’t exactly say that they were any help in his struggle. But perhaps this was something he needed to go through alone. At the time, he needed you. But now… he just really needs his best friends. 

Tears sting at his eyes for the nth time. 

“Come here, you crybaby,” says Jaemin, opening his arms.

-

It’s Monday, meaning he has to go back to school today. He’s not ready, how could he be? It hasn’t even been a week since you… left, but he knows he has to go back. His sister, God bless her, had let him take the first few days off but now that the weekend has ended and school has rolled back around, he has no choice.

“You look like shit.”

Donghyuck has always lacked a filter. It would hurt if Jisung didn’t know that Donghyuck meant that in the best way possible. You look like shit, he says. So I’m glad you found it in you to come to school, is what he doesn’t say. 

Jisung closes his locker with a sigh. “Thanks.” 

“No problem,” snickers his friend, and Jisung turns his head to find Mark and Jaemin approaching. “Morning,” greets Jaemin as he taps the top of Jisung’s head, despite being shorter.

“Hi,” responds Jisung quietly, clutching his chemistry textbook to his chest. The three of them look at him with quiet and somber eyes, but don’t say anything. Mark places a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving it a small rub.

“You got this.” 

The truth is, he can’t do this. The world feels quiet and empty, lacking a particular passion that you used to always embody. It could be worse. Thank goodness your relationship was rather private; he doesn’t know how he’d be able to function at school had there been curious eyes on him, if you had gone to the same school as him. 

The day goes rather slowly, and Jisung busies himself with catching up on his work that he had missed. He could almost pretend like things are normal. It’s not until fifth period calculus that something strange happens. 

An office TA pokes her head in and scrambles over to the teacher, who was in the midst of a very enthralling lecture on integrals that Jisung was definitely not paying great attention to. The TA whispers something into the teacher’s ear, then hands her a piece of paper. Mrs. Huang nods, then suddenly Jisung finds her eyes on him. “Jisung, Mr. Moon wants you in his office.” 

Him? Why him of all people?

Mr. Moon is the guidance counselor at their school, and Jisung has a moment of internal panic—had he somehow found out about you? Should he prepare himself for a lecture about grief and moving on? 

With a gulp, he nods. 

Mr. Moon is a fairly nice man, with a friendly smile and a reputation for being a pushover teacher. Jisung had met with him a few months ago to discuss his desire to pursue a soccer scholarship but he highly doubts that’s the case now.

When Jisung enters Mr. Moon’s office, the first thing he sees isn’t Mr. Moon but a tall man with a stoic expression standing behind his desk. In contrast to the stranger, Mr. Moon wears his trademark smile. “Jisung, good to see you. Still getting a kick out of that old ball?” 

Of course, Mr. Moon doesn’t know that Jisung skipped practice all last week to mope in his bed, but Jisung nods politely. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” responds the teacher with a smile. “Take a seat.”

He gestures to the chair in front of his desk, and cautiously does Jisung take a seat. The tall, bruff man is still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, having not yet said a single word. Somehow the atmosphere is tense, and Jisung’s quite sure he knows what this is about. 

“Now, Jisung, I’ve called you in today because—”

“Is this about (Name)?” Perhaps it’s a bit rude of him, but Jisung doesn’t want to be prodded at, at least not by people who think they know him. The last thing he wants is pity. 

Mr. Moon’s eyebrow raises just the slightest, and he leans forward on his desk. “Why, yes, it is. How did you know?”

A scoff leaves Jisung’s lips, but it’s much weaker than he would like. “My question is, how did you know? Who told you?” Who was it that shared information on his personal life? Was it his sister? His friends? 

“Nobody had to tell me, Jisung. (Name) sent the letter to me herself.”

Wait… what? 

Jisung blinks, hands falling slack on his lap. “W-What? What letter?”

Perhaps his staring is a bit too obvious, for Mr. Moon gestures to the stranger in question with a hand. “Jisung, this is Johnny Seo.” Finally, the intimidating stranger has a name. “Johnny is the head coach of the soccer team at Greenwood University—” Wait, Greenwood University? That’s Jisung’s dream school—well, it was his dream school, until they rejected his application for a soccer scholarship. What would they want to do with him? “—and he wants to offer you a full-ride scholarship.”

What? 

Jisung’s mouth falls open. What? What the hell? Hadn’t they just rejected him three months ago? His eyes must be bugging out of his face, so he blinks repeatedly, trying to find the words to say. 

“W-Wait, what? A… A full ride?” He stammers, unable to find his tongue.

The man named Johnny only nods. “Full ride. Covered tuition, dorming, and soccer costs. All you have to do is keep your grades up and keep scoring those fancy goals of yours I’ve heard about.”

“But—But, you rejected me… why now?” 

For the first time, Johnny gives a small smile. “Because of the letter.” There it is, that letter again that Jisung has no idea about. He looks to Mr. Moon for guidance. All the counselor does is open his desk drawer and pull out an envelope, which he slides across his desk. “(Name) (Last Name) wrote a recommendation letter to the university, and honestly, it was stunning. It was enough to make the admissions board… bend a little, to say the least.” 

Reaching forward, Jisung grabs the envelope and examines it in his hands. It’s opened, but yes, on the front is your handwriting. He’s cried so much this past week that he doesn’t know how many times tears have touched his eyes, but they sting once more. This time, he doesn’t let them fall. 

“She… wrote a letter. For me?” 

“That she did,” responds Mr. Moon. 

“She’s right,” says Johnny suddenly. “In our work at the university, we’re always looking for the best of the best. We should look deeper, sometimes.” The words sink in the room, and Jisung finds himself staring down at the envelope in his hands. What things had you had to say about him?

Honestly, all he can think about is his failure. How he failed to be there for you, how he cowarded in your presence when you told him to leave you alone. He bites down on his lip. 

“So? Will you accept our offer?” 

Jisung looks up again, meeting Johnny’s expectant eyes. “I…” His mouth suddenly runs dry. “I don’t know, I… I need to think about it.”

“You’re not graduating for another four months. Take your time.” Slowly, still in glassy-eyed disbelief, Jisung nods. His fingers find the edge of the envelope, tracing its pointed edge. You wrote that for him. From across the desk, Mr. Moon speaks up. “You should read that letter, Jisung, and realize what’s coming for you: good things.” 

-

To Whom It May Concern,

Hello. My name is (Name) (Last Name), and I am a high school student writing this letter to appeal a rejection by your university. Not of my own application, but of an extraordinary person with the name Jisung Park. In my humble opinion, I believe that your institution has made a grave mistake in not offering a scholarship to Jisung. So, I write this letter to appeal such a rejection, and to do something that he hated, though it was what I always did best: write about Jisung. 

Now, Jisung is a humble person who never speaks up about his struggles, but the truth is that of all students, I believe he is the most in need of this scholarship. His parents passed when he was young, and he grew up in the care of his older sister who raised him. Their small but strong family made sacrifices, gave up luxuries, and endeavored to survive. 

In the midst of this crisis, Jisung found his one savior: soccer. 

He is, without a doubt, the best soccer player I have ever seen in my entire life. He can sprint across the field in half a normal player’s time, and I’ve never seen him miss a goal or a pass. But his soccer prowess isn’t what makes him great. Moreover, Jisung is the person you want on a team. He believes in teamwork, but is always striving to be better. He doesn’t want to stand out, but does so anyways. He is never arrogant, nor boastful. If there is one person who deserves this, it’s him.

But, I am sure that you are thinking: why should this letter mean anything to you? I’m not a highly valued individual in the community, nor have I done anything significant for my name to mean anything. I’m only a seventeen year old student, a struggling journalist. 

The answer to that question is, I know Jisung Park. You only see his grades, the shallow things on his application. You will never get to see the Jisung Park that I knew and loved. 

In my time alive, Jisung Park made an impact on my life that will never be forgotten. Even when life seemed the darkest, not a beam of light in the field's view, Jisung picked me up and made me see the sunset. I know now, the sunset is beautiful, warm, and comforting—everything that Jisung is. He never left my side, and never for a single moment did I ever feel alone in his presence. The world often overplays the saying “a heart of gold,” but the truth is that Jisung has one.

I used to think that love would be red, like the burning of one’s lungs racing down a soccer field, or black and white, made to be simple. But the truth is, love is golden. Golden like the sunset painting streaks against the floor, golden like Jisung. It’s a warmth that covers you from head to toe, relenting into a future that you don’t know. 

He is my golden boy, and he can be yours too. 

I may not have a future, but if there’s one thing that I know, it’s that Jisung deserves one. 

I’m a journalist. I don’t write love letters, but perhaps this is the closest I can ever get. And should Jisung ever read this letter, I hope he knows that with this, I dedicated my last spark of sunlight to him. 

Sincerely,

(Name) (Last Name)

-

Your funeral occurs on February 13th, a week and four days after your passing. 

Jisung stands in front of the bathroom mirror, nose scrunched in concentration as he makes a feeble attempt on his necktie. This is surely not as easy as throwing on a soccer jersey. “Ugh,” he groans, fingers getting confused again.

“Need help?”

His sister’s dainty voice calls him from the bathroom door. Dressed in all black, she’s ready too. Turning his head, Jisung sighs. “Please.” She makes his way toward him, fingers coming to work on his tie already with steady hands. 

“You’re too tall now,” she says softly, with a chuckle. It’s true; he used to look up to her, physically and figuratively, but now he’s an entire head above her. “You’ve grown up a lot.” 

It was his eighteenth birthday just a few days ago but to be quite honest, he hadn’t had the heart to celebrate it. If anything, he had always thought that his eighteenth birthday would be like an epiphany for him. As though he would wake up the morning of, feeling like an adult with all the answers to the world.

The truth is, he’s eighteen now and he still feels like he has no idea what he’s doing. 

“I don’t feel any different,” he admits. “I thought eighteen would mean something.”

“You’ll get there, trust me. And anyways, I always told you not to grow up too fast.”

For a moment there’s a silence as his sister swoops the tie in and out, weaving it to form the perfect knot. Feeling something scratch at the back of his throat, Jisung speaks. “... I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for, silly? I was the one who never taught you how to knot a necktie,” she chuckles. 

“Not for that,” he says. “For last week. I… probably scared you.”

Suddenly, his sister is wearing that demure smile of hers again. The one that is small and polite, but always seems to carry more weight in it than he can see. “No. It’s okay, I knew you’d be better.” 

Naeun finally finishes the knot, tightening it the slightest around Jisung’s neck. “There you go.” He offers her a small thanks as he turns to look in the mirror, and she begins to leave. A sigh leaves him; there’s no avoiding it now, he’s ready to go.

“You know, Jisung,” she suddenly speaks up from the doorway. “I’m glad that you met her. Even if it ended up like this… you’re different. In a good way, and I think she had a lot to do with it. Even if you don’t feel different… you are.”

-

In the months of your relationship, Jisung had come to learn your insecurities. You were loud and proud, but with that confidence came an unwavering insecurity that you were unliked by those you spilled your tongue to. At the funeral, Jisung sees that that’s not at all true.

People give speeches for you, place flowers on your grave. The school newspaper had even written an article to commemorate your presence on their team, and the president of the club reads it aloud. A number of hospital staff make their appearance.

Even Jisung’s friends show up, despite the clear memory of them calling you crazy early on. Maybe they were right, maybe you were crazy. But he probably was too.

It doesn’t rain a single drop, though it had been pouring for three days before. Instead, the sun peeks through the overcast clouds, gifting sunshine. 

Jisung smiles. 

He probably looks like an idiot, carrying the soccer ball around the entire funeral but he knows what it means to him, and what it means to you. When he places it on your grave, the grass still fresh, his eyes catch the carefully written words on a singular white spot.

I love you. 

He knows that he means it. 

At eighteen, there a lot of things that Jisung still doesn’t know. But even so, there are a handful of truths that he can hold onto forever. One, he’s still an incredible soccer player and girls are still very scary. But like soccer, maybe that just takes time and practice. 

Two, growing up isn’t about a number. It’s not about partying or drinking, nor is it about rushing into relationships that have little meaning. For years Jisung had wanted to grow up, to face the world with no fears and be able to cruise through. But he knows now that growing up is about being strong in the face of sadness, pain, grief. About waking up every morning even if you feel like you have no reason to. 

Love is the same.

Love isn’t about making out on the bleachers after practice or trying to copy the coy clichés seen in romance movies. It’s about the sacrifices, like four hour bus rides. It’s about communication and connection, like a recommendation letter traced in gold. Because of you, he’s moving forward. He can go to college, and the day will never come when he stops being grateful toward you and everything you’ve done. That’s love, and he will spend the rest of his life loving you. Maybe the love will change but it will always be love. 

It hurts that you’re gone, it really does. Jisung doesn’t think it’ll ever stop hurting.

But the last thing he knows is that things will be okay.

Life moves on, and he will too. 

#neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #nct-writers #neohbh #neothestars #park jisung angst #jisung angst #jisung fluff #park jisung fluff #park jisung fanfic #jisung fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct angst #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic

[sly-merlin]

S A C R I F I C E

SACRIFICE - A STORY OF LOVE, BETRAYAL, REVENGE AND BARGAINING

CHARACTERS : prince jaehyun x princess y/n

GENRE : fluff, angst.

WORD COUNT : 7k

TIME PERIOD : OF SHY GLANCES AND BLOOD BATHS. WHERE LOVE IS FORBIDDEN AND HATRED NOT.

WARNINGS : Includes dirt play, revenge. Major character deaths like MAJOR, mentions of blood, murder, killing, assassination and an explicit scene of killing.  Cw : food mentions  SMUT WARNING : kissing! mentions of undressing.

DISCLAIMER : THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. FICTION. FICTION. NO DESCRIPTION REPRESENTS OR GIVE ANY HINTS TO JAEHYUN'S REAL LIFE CHARACTER. 

a/n : part of heartbreakhotel monthly event by precious network @nct-writers

SUMMARY : heart in one hand, a blade in another. Which one goes down under the weight of other? Who is brave enough to sacrifice the other?

The shimmering, colourful, geometrical patterns of the bronze kaleidoscope motivated your heels to exultant jumps, simply sending tingles to your friend's mind who quietly stood beside you wondering what new pattern had caught your eye this time. She was equally excited yet waited for you to be absolutely gratified. After all, a pattern viewed once could never be seen twice or remembered long enough to be claimed to have hit our eyes.

The light hues of the unreachable sun coloured the small market in its natural glow making terrible winter evening walks a little more bearable .You loved it. You loved the scenery, all the more so because it was deemed to be yours. Every corner of this small kingdom had your father's crown engraved on it yet you weren't permitted to move around in a place you dared to call your own. Hence the poorly patched long cotton skirt and lazily stitched full sleeved shirt covered you like you were a fugitive in disguise or maybe belonged to some impoverished village. Same was the case with your pretty friend who, once averse to your youthful shenanigans, found the silver jewellery most fascinating in the whole market and not to omit the street food that turned the palace food to be flavourless.

 You had never been very keen on lying to your parents, popularly called the rulers of the kingdom and your poor attendants who thought you were busy with your evening naps that you had suddenly taken upon a liking towards since the past month. But it was a necessity for you. Roaming in the same humongous rooms no more satiated your travelling mind. You wanted to be out, to be free, to just breach all the restrictions you were placed under as a princess to satisfy the hollow rules. As much as your morals and conscience despised hiding truth, this little game you played harmed no soul. Your safety was their priority and you were safe and secure as long as you didn’t leave her side. And this excuse inadvertently spiralled you in this endless circle of hide and seek taking control over your better judgement, throwing the need to pause this rendezvous in the background. What once done out of curiosity and to experience the fanatic lives of your subjects, was now a sine qua non. From patiently performing and learning new tasks suiting your position to skillfully diverting your maids, you indeed had all the prerequisites to be the best queen of your future kingdom. Even though the praise of achievement always resided only in your head, you found yourself to be impressively regal.

"Let me have a look too, y/n" zara, your dear friend pleaded not so politely.

Reluctantly removing the device from your eyes, you pushed it onto her hands, backing away slightly, allowing her in the space.

"Why don't you go and look at some silver jewellery instead?" Huffing, you suggested to lure her.

“The new ones arrive next monday!” Not paying heed to your tender, she kept smiling, enthralled by the beauty captured between the pieces of mirrors.

You nudged her playfully, the action meant to drive her to the end of her patience but she dogged your efforts with continuous giggles. Relentless you were too and she was always reminded of that in a hard way. What your elbow failed to do, your fingers completed. As soon as your fingers in her ears, she bitterly pulled herself away to face you.

“This is unfair y/n. This hour of freedom is not for your pleasure only” puckering her lips, she said while her eyes squinted at you. 

Suddenly, her forehead was smeared with thoughtful lines, “y/n! It’s been twenty minutes already. Where is your lover?” surprise rained over her whole face, “Do you think he got caught?”

You were almost ready to refute her former statement that he certainly wasn’t your lover yet but her latter question of suspicion appalled you and there was no need for her to ask you any further as she noticed your face shrinking, distorting your pretty lips into a worrisome pout. She immediately left the metal device, focusing on you.

“hey! I am not serious. I was just trying to distract you” as she cupped your face, a pout of her own greeted you.

Her words were not reassuring at all. There was no unlikelihood of what she said. Jaehyun was, without any doubt, illustrious in the fouled game you both played but neither his family resided here nor was he allowed to enter the premises of your kingdom. The said man was corrupted by his youthful glow that granted him enough courage of frisking around the walls of the forbidden territory.

Inhaling sharply, you uncloaked your worry,

“do you think he real-

“no no absolutely not love. He’s too clever for that and he’s been doing since months, way longer than me and you! Let’s wait for a few more minutes.” Cupping your chin, she jested and cooed, “Also won't he perish without seeing your beautiful face. He would be here any minute!”

 Just when you responded to her with a grim nod, a well acquainted shoulder bumped into you, mitigating your distress with a familiar touch. eyes closed in relief, you looked at zara for approval which was given right away with a playful wink.

Giggling like a little child, you skipped to the back of the market where jaehyun waited for you every evening. Hiding your face in the silk grey scarf, you sneaked away avoiding everyone’s sight and waiting for your arrival, Jaehyun stood there with the lower half of his face concealed with a black cotton headcover. 

As soon as he saw you, the hand glueing the cloth to his face fell down and his face lit up with a smile worthy of putting stars to shame if compared. The wrinkles on his face and the dips in the cheeks had you wanting to hide in those spaces, away from everyone who had heralded this union to be forbidden.

 There you stood, staring into his dark eyes like he wasn't someone you were supposed to keep a good distance from. 

But the light in his eyes diminished on seeing your excited face.

"You did that again! Why don’t you follow anything I say to you? At least, look back and confirm my presence. What if someone had followed me?” deeply whispering, he frowned at you.

And fondly, you smiled at him, something that he never found fascinating but it still left him flustered.

"Don't smile at me like that. I won't melt this ti-

"I apologise?"

You blurted out taking him by surprise. His mouth opened and closed several times, body slightly rocking in confusion. Finally, he spoke, 

"I didn't mean it like that." His voice softened, "i just can't - 

Cleaning his muddy hands on his pajamas, he placed them on your cheeks, engulfing your whole face with his long fingers.

"I just can't see you in danger. If any of my uncle’s spies came wandering and recognised you at this hour, they'd not hesitate to slit your throat y/n" the way his face contorted as he recited the known truth,  it was evident how just the mention of it was painful to him. "Don't follow unless you see my face. I know there's no one harming you in your own country but you never know when odds might defeat you" 

"Do you-

You began but his questioning eyes stopped you. His eyes talked only in worry and love. Both for you. But even if you were content with what he showered you with, greed for little more was something you never deemed unnecessary.

"I what?" 

You wanted to continue but the perpetual worry planted on his face disturbed you as well.

"Jaehyun-'' your fingers brushed away the strand of hair on his face, “I mean don’t you find it tedious? Giving me the same instructions every other day, wasting the ten minutes of the limited time we get.”

He left your face and focused on cleaning the remaining dirt from his hand. To avoid suspicions and blend into the environment, he always covered his hands in mud, giving an impression of a forlorn daily worker. Nobody questioned a person who looked homeless and unhappy, even if he meandered near the barbed wires.

“I got in trouble.”

You hadn’t even sat down on the bench and he was already bombarding you apprehensions.

“how?” inaudibly, you asked.

He broke his eyes away before responding,

“they saw me leaving the palace yesterday. From tomorrow, I shall be accompanying my cousin to verify the supplies in the production department.” his chuckle forced you to let out one as well. his irresponsible behaviour had fables of its own, as jaehyun had told you once. the little penalties he was subjected to weren’t discomforting either but this time it involved you as well.

“for how long?”

 “my family’s care agenda would hopefully end within two weeks and then I shall be free again. but we might need a new place and new time too.”

His words were muffled in the back as your eyes remained transfixed on his hand sheepishly rubbing his neck. Under your inappropriate scrutiny, he found himself tinting and your strong gaze posed more problems for his already thumping heart.

He coughed you out of your daze, eyes wavering everywhere. Picking your lip, you suppressed your giggles.

Finger under your chin, you pretended contemplation. Your comical stance earned a groan from him,

“how about you get serious for once and I’ll buy you steamed food.”

Smiling widely, your greedy stomach took the offer immediately.

“not everyone lacks intelligence, prince jaehyun.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, feigning offence at your statement. “Now what are you implying princess y/n.”

“that I might already have a place decided. So hurry up now and feed me food while telling me about your day.”

“You are impressive, my lady! How am I going to live with your notorious self?”

“you plan on living with this notorious princess?” you clowned even though his question showed you more than just a hope.

“the inquiry hour is closed princess and so would be the shops if you choose to delay more. Soooo, shall we leave?”

Responding to your sharp gaze, he took your hand and pressed his plump lips onto them, disrupting the chain of your rational thoughts.

As the atmosphere tuned cooler and he bid adieu, you went back with a new assurance, ready to put your life on hold for the next few weeks.

lying on your back, you let out muffled giggles to celebrate another successful classified evening. clothes were changed, chess was out. You were prepared for any intrusion.

Zara's laughter soon died down, happy and heavy breaths replacing them. Seated on your bed, she faced you,

"So my courageous y/n, did you confess today?"

Abruptly you raised yourself, looking at her in bewilderment,

“Of course not!”

“What? Why not? What are you waiting for? Time is slipping away love.”

“I know. I just want to be a little more sure before taking this a step further. I do not want to misjudge his momentary affection for a promised future.The detestation our families share for each other has always proven to be deadly. Unless I’m sure that jaehyun’s feelings are indisputable, I shall not be proceeding." Mumbling out the last part, you began playing with the hem of your deep blue skirt to hide the disappointment that settled in within your heart. 

"Okay. I can't force you but do know that saving your heart from misery is better. Oh and does the poor boy have any hint about me." Zara advised lacing her words with a chuckle in the end. 

"Don't worry. You are just a maid friend whom I love and trust the most. He believes each of my pretty lies you know.”

"Oh my love. He truly fancies you. I wish your brother wasn't so incapable of harbouring feelings. How delightful life could have been only if he was like you." She wistfully spoke just like other times. Your heart hurt for her. She never got the love she was capable of giving yet the kindness never withered away. She was just like that. 

Soon your peace was interrupted and you were escorted to the dinner table. 

There sat your parents with their favourite child. You weren't loved any less yet it weakened your heart, watching them walking past your capabilities to applaud his undistinguished skills. His gender screamed for power when his capabilities barely had any knowledge of whispering about them. You abhorred it. Not your brother for he was raised with a rode in his neck but the stars that never aligned in your favour crushing your dream of wearing the crown for your own kingdom, under the grime rules made by those who were dead. Only god and zara knew how much hatred you held for your ruthless ancestors who never favoured women.

Sans any relish, you bit on the food which definitely tasted better for something you were not very fond of. but the almost good meal was ridden of all the salt as you felt conscious of their eyes on your face.

"Is there something you want to say to me?" you asked with a reluctantly polite voice.

That's when you noticed how their attention was divided to both you and zara.  Your brother Donghae’s serious eyes bored into her face as she tried to avoid him while sitting right across him on the dining table.

Finally your mother spoke.

“Donghae was looking for you throughout the whole evening, zara.”

Zara lowered her head, look on her face screaming help which only you understood so you took the charge on her behalf,

“We were in my room.”

“And what is so important in your room that you both chose to ignore constant calls from your maids?”

“After an exhausting and unentertaining day, we both play chess, share all the amusing stories of our respective days, details of which can be given to you if asked with some enthusiasm and then we sleep for an hour, in peace without anyone spitting orders on our faces and since when have my brother changed so much that he actually got some time to look for his wife?”

“May I know from where this disrespectful flow of words is coming through? Is this a way to talk to your elders?”

“I mean no disrespect, mother.”

“This ends today. From tomorrow you shall be spending those two hours with our bakery chef.”

Instead of your mother, you directed your next plead to your father, who was an expert in nodding at household matters

“No! This is the only time I get with zara. within a year or two i’ll be married off to some rude man who won’t even let me put my feet outside the threshold of his palace.” pouting, you said.

Waving his hand, he dismissed the matter that meant whoever got the last sentence was the conqueror of the discussion.

"Why are you here?" Counting and aligning the stars to form another shape, he interestingly asked.

"I wanted to explore this dead garden. What about you? What brings you here in the enemy land?" You jested.

"to meet a very beautiful enemy."

"a woman?"

"Yes yes. She's a woman. A very pretty one I must say but very feisty and dangerous to be around."

"Oh how so?" You asked now genuinely interested in his description of yours.

"I've heard she has a heart of stone."

"Huh? Have you seen her heart to be so sure of your accusation?"

"I've enough instances to prove that."

"Like?"

"She meets a handsome prince, spends an hour staring at his eyes with all but love and still chooses to stay silent. It's a dangerous game she's playing with him. It almost - it hurts him."his fatalistic expression left you stunned. The ancillary confession beleaguered your heart instead of calming the storm.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you tried your best to focus on the constellations instead. you pulled the poor blade of grass harder in a futile attempt of breaking it apart but it was snatched from you.

“answer me.” He demanded the answer that was resting on the tip of your tongue.

"I love you."

He blurted out and you felt his fingers finding home in yours as he interlocked them. the moisture of the grass swamped your hands and you finally found your warmth within each other.

“the whole palace is under your charm y/n” you stopped the stirring at zara’s words.

“how so?”

“they haven’t seen your wrath in the past few weeks. You didn’t shout at minji for throwing your burnt cake either.”

Swatting her hand away from the pot, you replied, “let them enjoy their peace days.”

“may god bless jaehyun! The whole palace is saved until you are happy.” Bumping her shoulders into yours, she took the charge from you. “what about the haunted garden y/n. aren’t you afraid of going there. it’s been weeks and I haven’t heard you screaming about any ghost.”

You scoffed at her naive self, “the only ghost that haunts the garden is in ME!” dragging the last part, you successfully scared her into dropping the ladle in the hot pot. Resultantly, she chases you off in the whole kitchen until you agree to turn the muddle of vegetables into something edible.

Jaehyun’s presence generated so much happiness within your soul that you were afraid one unfortunate day would snatch him from you yet you never fought against the urge to drown in the love he poured on you. He mirrored the boy you met in your books, just as dreamy, if not more. His princely chiselled face was a sight to die for. He was a typical example of a lotus, a beautiful flower born in mud where it lived and died and you wanted to change that for him.

“What do you fear the most?”

Nestling your face in his neck, you couldn’t help but ask the question. He snuggled you closer to him, the sheet beneath you crumpling making the leaves and the grass it covered rustling under you. He shifted his head only to face your hair. Removing his one hand from your waist, he moved your chin to inspect you. He never understood how you came up with most bizzare and inquiring questions. But he was always more than happy to speak or in this case, express.

“that I will forever remain indebted to you.”

grasping his hand that held your chin, you saw him gulp down the words he hesitated to utter. 

"Love is not a debt jae. Just keep loving me like this, make me hap-

Abruptly your view of him changed as he floated over your figure. Resting your head on the sheet, his fingers traced the path along your face, feeling every inch of the skin he had learned to admire from afar. With adoration filled eyes, he drew nearer.

His lips were delicate against yours. Moving gently, he comforted your vulnerable ones, winning a pleased and dry whine from your throat. Hands dropping to your neck, his lips travelled down to your jaw where he sucked lightly at a candied spot and the little tickle kisses he gave you reaching your collarbones left you squealing in its wake. He hovered over your face again, this time to taste the bliss you felt and courageously, you pulled him closer and like it was designed, Mist of delight clouded your minds as  you forgot your fingers in his nape. If finding stars in his eyes was your expression of love then dancing against your pulsating lips, he perfectly found his interpretation as well. 

He drew back when he was done with bruising your skin. Staring into your eyes, he asked for something. With a blink of the same, you conveyed it. 

Curving your back, you allowed him to unzip the lavender dress you were wearing. As he uncovered your skin, he greeted it with beautiful, praiseworthy kisses, covering you with his undying love.

That night he resuscitated you, sending you into an oblivion. 

The reason being the incantations that he served you with.

I wish to give you a ring!

And the simple words resonated the promise that you could hardly wait for him to fulfill.

Sympathy combining some unknown feeling washed over you as you heard your father talking about the neighbouring kingdoms and the pitiful state they were in. you had always known about the lack of resources those people lived with but that was the end. It was just a topic of discussion and theory to learn about the blunders of their ancestors and the brutal history of their treason to an old ally, your father and grandfather.

With a contempt laced tongue, once again, your father recited the story of betrayal of the lees and the jungs. The story was religiously told to every child once they were old enough to understand the terms like loyalty, allegiance, infidelity and betrayal.

You had vowed to change that. a seed of hatred planted in a younger mind would only yield a crop of vengeance. you aspired to end it. Jaehyun, too, wanted to wash the stains of treachery from his family name.  

 To your dismay, the army was out to roam the small towns and villages, looking for trespasser enemies. 

One day, you were resting in jaehyun's arms and the next day, you were left to sulk as the guards had suddenly decided to reaffirm the reliability of all the hinges. The doors were smacked, locked and unlocked, leaving you with million suspicions and a heavy heart. 

The only assurance you had, was in Jaehyun's capability of fooling the security forces. Proud as you were, the unsettling feeling of a blurred future did not let you sleep. For three nights.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly from behind.

“easy jaehyun! it tickles!” you exclaimed while controlling your giggling.

“i thought you won’t be here tonight but yo-

“but i managed to sneak!” you finished, turning in his arms to see his beautiful face glistening in the moonlight. “and i don’t know for how much longer i can fool my attendants, what if one day they got in trouble for negligence. The security is doubled outside all the chambers. If I pulled anything, father would not hesitate to behead them.” your face dimmed with the mere thought of the fate of your precious maids and if anything happened to them, your soul would be forever encumbered with the guilt. 

your worried eyes didn’t escape jaehyun as he leaned forward to give you a small kiss, soothing your nerves. the small peck left you wanting for more as you bit your lower lip in anticipation of his further actions.

“nothing would happen. it’s been 2 months and nobody in the whole kingdom knows where and with whom their gorgeous princess spends her nights! and besides i’m here to ease the worries of your forever wandering mind. "

"Why do you always have to talk in riddles jae!"

He laughed through your smacks before circling your figure twice, leaving you staggered and dumbfounded.

"What are yo-

"I'm serious. I’m just here to fulfil my promise love.” he caught and pulled you again, keeping just a little distance between you both

“what promise? i don’t remember anything!” you asked genuinely perplexed by his words. as far as your memory too you, the only promise he made was-

your eyes widened at the realisation! jaehyun removed his one hand from your waist, putting it inside the pocket of his pants.

at this point, you could hear your own thumping heart whilst looking at him expectantly.

“let’s relieve you of a huge burden my princess!” he said with a smiling face but as you tried to mirror his expression, a sharp pain coursed through your abdomen.

you wobbled as he left your waist, the pain doubling when he pulled the small knife out of your body, a smirk adorning his features instead.

your body felt hotter than ever as the blood slowly oozed out of your abdomen. no scream left your lips as you pressed the wounded area in a try to lessen the ache.

The solemn tears falling down the cheeks were not for the physical damage but for the broken promise Jaehyun had bestowed upon you with.

“wh-why?” was the only word you could form before your other hand went to grab his arm but was only met with air.

jaehyun loomed closer and his knife met your stomach once again, this time a grievous shriek filled the silent garden. 

Your legs lost life, your body finding it harder to withstand the twist of the knife as you fell on the grass, darkness consuming your soul.

“because i couldn’t be on the throne as long as the heir of this kingdom was alive. but your death won’t be worthless love. I shall wear the crown of your sacrifice and reclaim all the lost honour.”

Instead of a deep breath as you had expected, a choked sob left your lips and the whole body convulsed with the painful effort.

Your eyes remained glued to him as he rubbed his face with this sleeve regarding you with the cruelty you never knew he was capable of.

contempt in his orbs served as his last offering towards you as he exited your sight, calling for someone.

After what felt like years, you heard a human voice again but your body gave up before you could comprehend anything. 

“you did it my boy!”

Jinyoung broke his hateful glare from the throne and patted a demented jaehyun on the back, congratulating his prime pawn for the successful acquisition. The so called disqualified heirs were now the rulers, a dream that was once broken by their backstabbing friend, the now murdered king of this kingdom.

“and you shall be rewarded for you have made your deceased father proud.” Hand caressing Jaehyun's shoulder, he pretended to wipe the few tears that escaped due to the bitter memory. Cleaning his eyes with the sleeve of his dusted robe, he took the gold crown from his younger brother, jinseok and ran his eyes from jaehyun to the majestic chair on the silver podium.

With pride clotted blood, Jaehyun bowed to him before taking his seat.

The crown was set atop his head, fitting him without any doubt.

It weighed more than he thought.

With a sinister smile, his uncle ordered the assassination of all the loyal members of court.

Guards were beheaded and bodies were counted.

The palace was foraged, to find and kill all the runaways.

A manhunt was announced for the one who wasn’t found.

Nobody knew there were more to be found.

The triumphant smile lit Jaehyun's face for he lost nothing.

Three weeks later.  

Donghae’s hands lost all the strength, the plastic bag filled with potatoes now rolling down the uneven and mud washed floor of the hut.

The day he had been anticipating with broken hope and glistening eyes was not a dream anymore.

Your fingers finally trembled against the hard, rugged and rough mattress.

You had decided to open your eyes after three weeks.

Finally he allowed himself to cry.

I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me

Crown hanging between his fingers, his gaze pierced the ground.

You were lying there three weeks ago.

Were you taken away?

Were you no more?

There was no probability of inhaling after how perfectly he had spun his knife.

No man had ever survived his knife, not even his own teacher. There was no way you could have. All the odds were in his favour for all the cards being played with accuracy.

Did he hope for your life?

You were an enemy, just a play. Then why the thought of never beholding you again hurt him so much. 

why the weight of the crown crumbled on him with such intensity.

Why did he choose your chamber to stay in?

Yet Why was he unable to sleep?

He grew up seeking answers and  taking orders and this time there was no one to respond to his cries.

Neither did anyone care enough to ask him the reason for his quotidian visits to the garden.

I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug

It wasn’t home. But the eyes looking back at you undeniably reminded you of it. A day has passed since you saw the light of the world again but all you did was listen to the gut-wrenching fate your family had met with. Half of the family!

Your parents were murdered in the coup premeditated  by none other than the neighbouring jungs. What was equally agonising was the fact that your brother never got to give your parents a respectable farewell. The troops had charged upon their sleepy selves and the mere hanging crown on the naked and bloodied sword of jin young was enough of a proof of the successful attack. Their escape hadn't been easy either but with a little help from the general, they had managed to flee. Zara had led them to you. 

 Unknown fear consumed you as you read your surroundings. But it was time you admitted to your mistakes and faced the consequences. If there were any brutal ones left. There was nothing you would be unable to endure. So you began with the unanswered questions.

“what is this place?” you asked with a sore throat.

“this is jung’s territory. They are too blinded by their victory that this barren land is the last place they would send their troops to.” donghae replied, feeding you spoonfuls of the soup.

“But how did we reach here?"

"Through the underground war doors. They once joined both of our territories before the jungs were disqualified from trading. This end was opened by our general when we lost too much blood. Their bloody nephew is sitting on the throne, uniting this useless kingdome with ours." He seethed. 

You bit your lip to compose yourself. you knew you had to tell them about jaehyun and a broken trust was the last thing you wanted to inject in him but necessity clawed on your heart to reveal everything.

Caressing your face, he acidly began, 

"We'll take back everything. No one shall be spared. We are contacting our alliances. By next month, our kingdom would be in the state of siege. Every drop of blood shall be avenged. Jaehyun would pay for what he did."

At his mention, you withdrew your sight from him. Guilt crept up within you as you tried to affiliate every past event with the current one. It was clear as day you were a mere instrument to find a place for the entry of their troops. You were just a puppet. Unknowingly, you had allowed them to enter your parent's bedroom too. You had blood on your hands. Of countless people.

A single tear slipped and the lack of his expression on your face scared zara. She ran to occupy the other side of the bed and caught your head before you broke down in her arms. Jaehyun's lies and betrayal of your love was left somewhere in an old rusted chest of your mind and the pure anguish shattered you into millions of pieces.

You wailed yourself to sleep. 

Jaehyun visited you that night. In the form of dust. And he continued breaching your peace as if killing you once wasn't enough.

Now the day bleeds, into nightfall and you are not here, to get me through it all.

Jaehyun woke up in cold sweat. When was the last time he slept with an easy mind? 

Maybe the week before he was ordered to finish off what he had started. 

He changed rooms. 

He changed floors.

But his eyes never closed for even the minor chances of meeting you in the dreamland scared him to death. 

With a trembling hand, he picked up the crown and threw it away.

Amusingly, you were still dead.

Were you really that foolish?

Perhaps you resembled every other weak hearted person for whom a pinch of affection was a desperate call to sell their soul and rationality.

You had just wanted to walk down the markets without any constraints pulling you back in. Skipping in the shadows while hiding from the sun was the only desire you had. 

Why had he bumped his shoulder into yours? Why had he repeated it again and again until had grown to recognise his touch even through the thick layers of clothing and masked faces?

It's amusing how we end up finding each other in the same place at same time everyday

He had said with a sugary tone when you had questioned him sternly. 

You had believed him.

I'm prince Jaehyun, from the other side. I just came here to see the beauty that our place doesn't possess. It's all barren and discarded. No healthy vegetables. No dry fruits. I just enjoy myself every evening and buy some good food for some poor kids. You won't mention this to anyone right? I’ll leave right away if you want though!

How righteous had he sounded!

We'll propose unification and then everything will come to life again. No bloodshed. No backstabbing. No spy plays. We’ll never let history blemish our future.

How had he managed to contradict each and every word he had spoken. 

he just changed like the patterns in the kaleidoscope as if you had never reflected in the mirrors of his heart. 

Perhaps you never did.

You despised his way of fulfilling his Imperishable love for you! 

You were relieved Zara had been the one to inform your brother of this leading cause.

How ruthless he could have been!

You wanted to give his whole kingdom a new life and all he could give you in return was a knife. 

I was getting kinda used to being the someone you loved

Jaehyun's fingers turned green for how harshly he picked at the grass. Picking at those innocent blades didn't bring you back. 

His cries thundered in the air. He begged for the time to turn itself. He yearned for the love you had shown him. He missed your warmth. He missed your careless laughs. His heart shrieked for you. The only person he had ever loved. The only being who had ever loved him.

 Why he couldn't have saved himself from being the traitor of the heart he could've ruled!

You stared at the heavy corset that was made to safeguard you.

You were no expert with a blade but still one was handed over to you as precaution. 

The general read you the instructions, mainly focusing on the need to remain hidden underground until the war was over. You and Zara were to be kept away from the weapons. 

That was what the commandments directed you to follow.

Today, the wind blew harsher. Maybe he was the only one to feel the strange stillness in the disorder. Everything had been imprudently loud for him lately. Even the riots that shook the doors of the palace. How long could they have held onto something that never belonged to them! 

As he dismissed the servant who called him to take charge against your brother, his mind pressed upon bolting all the heavy doors to ignore the murderous stream. He had led one army before but now lacked the courage to pick up his knife and sword, the ones he buried right in the garden where you once laid.

You.

The broken look on your face was the image he wanted to delete from the depths of his mind so desperately yet your presence never left him alone. Maybe it was the sanction of the heavens that you were always there with him. In his days and in his dreams. He got all of your portraits removed yet here you were, standing in front of him with a smile on your face. A quiet rare sight. The radiant face, if not impossible to find, was still very infrequent even in his dreams. The air smelled of you. The atmosphere was enticing. Suddenly, he wanted to chase his dream, to go after you. 

So he followed his heart. 

Your illusion stayed still, with curved lips making you look ethereal. Even in the darkness, your face illuminated the way for him.

His hand rose, hoping to touch you even though the rational part of his head screamed that it was a lie created by him to save himself from another night of misery but he failed to listen and caved in. Like each time, he expected his hand to pass through you, breaking the charm of his fabrication of you. 

But here he was. 

Instead of passing through the smoke that you were supposed to be, his hand rested upon the gentle skin that your face had. Retracting his fingers immediately, he fell back in fear, eyes widening and chest heaving. 

You were anything but an illusion. 

His hand grazed against your cheek before he fell down, stumbling upon his own feet. The crown that decorated his head too withdrew its support, lying on the floor like it had recognised its lawful owner.

"My king." Solemnly, you addressed him. "I hope you are enjoying your new home and title."

As you talked, you watched him collecting himself. As he unclogged the blocks of his mind, awe transformed his face momentarily shaping itself into trepidation. To your disbelief, he brightened up once again. Had he not been liable for the ghastly crimes, you’d have sympathised with the deranged state of the always self possessed jaehyun. Alas! You had nothing to offer him.

Shuffling on his knees, with his head bowed lowly, he spoke with dead voice,

"Forgive me, please." He cried into his joined hands.

"Get up jaehyun. A mighty and worthy king like you doesn't look very honourable bowing to a mere woman like me." Your dangerously honeyed voice resembled the ominous dark clouds brooding atop his head. 

But you admired his valor for he kept apologising, burning himself with the false hope of undoing the indelible smudge he had left on you.

"I thought i never loved you y/n but i was utterly wron-

"You are a deceiver King jaehyun. Do not expect me to believe you." 

"Don't call me that please!" 

"Get up jaehyun." you barked. 

"I hate myself for doing that to you y/n." Getting up slowly, he repeated twice. You were yet to see his face and when he rose to his full height, you were met with his bloodshot eyes that could've ached you if your heart hadn't been damaged to the core.

"Don't hate yourself please. You made your family proud. That is what we kids should be aiming for right. I truly admire you for that King jaehyun." The emotionless stress on the end made him close his eyes in pain as he choked out another heart wrenching sob. 

"I'm truly sorry y/n, please. I can't take your hatred. I don't want this crown nor do i want to live here anymore."

Your stomach churned at his cries. You had truly underestimated his capability to surprise you but it only made you grip harder on the knife that was tucked in your waistband.

“How naive of you to think that I'll fall for your lies again, jaehyun.”

Rubbing his face with his palms, he looked heavenward,

"No no. I love you. I really really love you.I never realised this until now. I just can’t live without you” and continued as his glistened eyes met yours, “Why are you not listening to me?"

"Don't you think you are a bit late for a true confession."

"Yours was true right. Your love was conditionless. I swear on your love! Forgive me once please. Love is the strongest, you told me this right. I just need you y/n. not this crown. Not anyone else. Just you, Please." 

A mean scoff left your lips, "Yes, i was the one who told you about love being the most powerful but that was until you taught me the strength of hatred, jaehyun. You knifed me out of the fairytales i dreamt with you and i don't think i can ever thank you enough for that. The love you are so profoundly swearing to is lying under the debris of the hollow pride and the abhorrence you sheltered for my family. You never once heard my pleas of affection and now you expect me to listen to yours?how can you stoop so low?"

You watched him screaming into the air and crumbling down. You saw him going through the pain you would never recover from yourself and you wanted to end it. For him. It was rather painful to watch him so you mumbled his name. 

With newfound belief, he loomed closer with open arms, anticipating a change of heart from you. Maybe you weren't really as unconcerned to him as he had been with you. 

but the long blade mutilated his lungs and silent gasps of pain escaped his throat. His miserable eyes ruined the shield you wore and you screamed at him while repeating the thrusts of the sharp blade. Droplets of vengeance imbued the chilled air, drizzling down your neck in the form of sweat.

Somehow the hall was lit and you were forced to see what you had done to him. His grip on the ground faltered and the blade slipped through your fingers, the clink dangerously reverberating in the hall. 

Before your hand could reach for him, something pointed grazed your shoulder. You wanted to turn around but more and more spikes pierced through you; the heaviness and the pain that seeped through your back launched you forward and you fell down on another body that had been hosted by the marble a few moments ago. The ache of the arrows left you breathless. Once again, you struggled with your eyelids. within a few seconds, relief padded your back and you discontinued your wrestling. 

and perhaps your dead heart was finally at peace.

#nct-writers #neowritingsnet #kafenetwork #cznnet #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun smut #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #nct reactions #nct drabbles #nct fanfics #nct romance #neohbh

[soliverse]

don’t call me - k.dy

(sequel to call me a fool. you can read this by itself, but some references would make more sense if you read the first part.)

reader x bestfriend!doyoung

genre: so much angst, slight fluff

warnings: none

word count: 3.85k

synopsis: Doyoung missed an important milestone in your life. Now, it’s your turn to miss his calls.

prompt:

Ghost Of You by 5 Seconds of Summer, part of the Heartbreak Hotel collab by @nct-writers

dedication to:

@hunjins for leaving witty comments during beta reading

@johnyusangel for being my guardian angel during beta and when I was dying over a migraine + Qian Kun

@hxneyy-latte for nursing me back to health lol

taglist: @kunrengui (sorry this took a while 😔), @leolo404 @byeolhyesisi @thesongofdragons

networks: @nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet @nct-writers

Every day, your routine starts with staring at your phone for a few hours before getting out of bed. You'd check in all of your messaging apps to see if any of them came from Doyoung. Sadly, there's none of it this morning.

You would drag your mopey ass out of bed and start the day with dread, questioning why he hasn’t replied to your last text. Then, as you brush your teeth, you would check once again to see if you missed anything while you are preoccupied with oral hygiene.

The inbox notifications would still say zero. And then you'd wait… and wait… and wait some more hours, even days before he replies back.

Every time Doyoung refuses to reply to your messages soon, you get this sudden urge to bang your head into a wall, cursing yourself for texting him in the first place. You will then start to question your life choices, why you even texted him in the first place when you knew this is bound to happen. And that you probably sounded too clingy, too cheesy for his liking. Your thoughts filled as to why he refused to reply as soon as he could.

You sighed and placed your phone back into your pocket and proceeded to go on with your day. The academy is about to open and you have practice for your upcoming recital the following day.

You kept your phone around your vicinity even as you practiced. It's a good thing that your vocal mentor isn't here to point out your mistakes, but you're trying to hit every note as clean as you can. A feat that is impossible to do when you're completely distracted by something.

Doyoung: Hey.

That one word is enough to wash all of the worries that you had earlier. You once again attempted to bang your head into the wall, now cursing yourself for changing your emotions so quickly.

You kept your phone back at your table, practicing for a few more minutes before answering the text. This time, you sang with a smile on your lips, the burden of your worries suddenly lifted with a single word.

But that's just how it always is with you and your best friend.

Now, if you can only tell him how you feel.

///

You bowed at everyone for doing a great job at practice. You happily fished out your phone from your pocket to reply to Doyoung's earlier text.

You: Are you free this Saturday?

You placed your phone down for a moment to fix your stuff, but a ding! interrupted you midway and you just couldn’t help but look at his reply.

Doyoung: Not at all. Need help with something?

Your smile grew wider and you texted the details of your recital for Saturday. You've worked on the piece so hard that you wanted to share your success with him, just like he would share his with you.

The rest of the day went smoothly. It was full of wishful thinking and daydreams. And if it goes well, it might be the day that you tell him about how you really feel about him.

///

It was the day of the recital and your hands were shaking out of nervousness. Your grip on the mic was getting tighter, if not sweatier, as you heard the crowds forming outside to see you and your classmates perform.

The soundcheck commenced and they started calling all the participants by their name as they came on stage. You heard nothing besides your own heartbeat and your loud thoughts whenever you overthink. But you reassured yourself that you will do a good job.

You had to. Someone was watching and you wanted to make him proud.

Fiddling on your seat, you waited for a few numbers before it was your turn. You nervously walked out the stage, and you were blinded by the lights coming from the back of the theater. It was probably for the good. 

You couldn’t see anyone’s faces.

You couldn’t see his face. 

Because if you could, you would’ve choked on your words and hit the notes wrong once again. Thankfully, the performance went better than you expected. 

As soon as everyone came together for the curtain call, your eyes wandered to see Doyoung among the crowds. You scanned left and right, but there were no signs of him everywhere in the theater.

You consoled yourself with the fact that he probably went to the bathroom, or he was already backstage waiting for you. He couldn’t possibly miss this day, right?

The first thing that you did after coming down the stage was to have a closer look at the seats, just to make sure that he really was there in the crowd. Everyone else had their families with them, their friends, their lovers. 

But there were no signs of Doyoung in the crowd.

You tried hard to smile as everyone who passed by you congratulated you for doing a great job. But once again, you were distracted. Your mind was occupied with thoughts that you never expected to have that day.

Did he really forget about you?

Giving up completely, you made your way back backstage and hid your impending tears to everyone. On your way, you saw Johnny, waving a small bouquet of flowers to get your attention. This sparked a tiny bit of hope in you. If Johnny was around, then Doyoung must have been here somewhere, too.

You ran towards Johnny and gave him the tightest bear hug. You were worried that no one really watched you perform today. Your family lives abroad and they couldn’t make it to watch you, but you promised them that you will send them a video of you singing. You were really counting on Doyoung not only to watch you perform, but to film your performance as well. 

He must have been here somewhere.

“Thank God you came. I thought nobody saw me perform earlier,” you were once again on the verge of crying, but you didn’t have the heart to ask Johnny if Doyoung was indeed with him.

“Doyoung couldn’t make it today. He had to go out with the whole crew of his drama to celebrate their last day together. I came as soon as I heard about your performance.”

You fell quiet, breathing deep to hide your tears and your disappointment. But Johnny knew how you felt, so he pulled you tighter against him, completely encasing you completely on his embrace. “Don’t feel sad. You did so well today.”

///

Ever since then, you stopped taking calls from Doyoung. He would persistently call and text you every night to say sorry. Any other day, you would’ve been glad to see that finally, he’s the one that’s trying so hard to reach you. Sadly, you’re in no mood to talk to him. 

You thought it would’ve been cruel if you blocked his number from your phone, so you instead tried to text him excuses why you couldn’t talk.

You were tired. You went out with a friend. You just wanted to take some rest.

After hitting send, you tossed your phone in your bed, still feeling upset about him missing such an important day to you. You felt set aside like you’re the last person on his priority list.

That day made you realize that you’re spending way too much energy on someone that doesn’t return the favor. It was an unhealthy behavior that you need to get out of your system as soon as possible, even if that means cutting Doyoung from your life temporarily.

///

Doyoung was surprised to see you at the front door of the 127 dorm one day. You tried smiling at him as he opened the door to let you in, pretending that you were not upset with him in the previous days.

“Surprised you’re not busy today,” you remarked as you sat down, clearly aiming at Doyoung who was now feeling lost at your coldness towards him.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Not at all,” you tried your best to avoid his gaze because one look at your face would definitely give everything away. You didn’t want to lie to him, but it was better than saying that you were mad because you had feelings for him.

“Anyways, where’s Johnny? He invited me to watch a movie this afternoon.”

“Didn’t you tell me that you had practice today? That’s why you couldn’t meet me?”

You sneered internally.

“Yeah. Sometimes people say one thing and then they actually mean another thing. You of all people should know.”

You saw Johnny coming out of his room, fully dressed and ready for your movie night together. You waved one last goodbye at Doyoung, who just realized that you were roasting him the whole time.

///

The passive-aggressiveness went on for a few more occasions. You refused his attempts to talk to you, knowing full well that your cold facade would wear off instantly once you let him. You wanted to talk to him so bad, but your pride was preventing you from making any rash decisions. You couldn’t just go back to living your life as Doyoung’s doormat. But, as per Johnny’s advice, you got to explain to him why you were feeling that way. He at least deserved that much.

That explanation came sooner than you had expected.

You were spending a lot of time with Johnny lately, but only because he treats you like a little sister. He must’ve missed his own sister back at home, so he was making sure to take care of you as much as he could. 

But Doyoung didn’t have to know that.

You had noticed the tension between the two of them whenever you would visit their dormitory. Johnny was just a bit irked at Doyoung because you were hurting, but he understood it from his perspective. He never knew how you felt in the first place, he wouldn’t have known how much he hurt you in the process.

What goes on in Doyoung’s brain though, you have no idea. He usually just stays away from the both of you whenever you’ve come to visit them, maybe throw in a couple of pleasantries before asking you to hang out with him once again. You kept on telling him that you will once you’re not busy with the academy, and then proceeds to forget about it on that same day.

One day, he’s finally had enough and decided to block the door when you were about to leave the dorm room.

"There's nothing to talk about Doyoung."

You tried to step out once again, but he didn't even budge from his place.

"Can you just tell me what I did? I already said sorry about not attending your recital. What else do you want me to do?"

You lowered your head and tried to leave again, determined not to answer his questions. But he's just as stubborn as you are, this time pushing you slightly, just enough to make you step back.

Your fists formed into a ball and your lips pursed in annoyance. Why does he care about you so much now that you're staying away from him?

"Let me leave, Doyoung. Johnny is waiting for me," you said as calmly as you could.

"Is that it? You're replacing me with Johnny? Just because of that one mistake? What kind of friendship is that?" Doyoung's voice went up a few notches, now looking as visibly upset as you are.

"I can't be your friend anymore, Doyoung," silence filled the room as soon as you said that statement. You both stare at each other awkwardly, both of you are still in a state of shock.

"I don't think this is the perfect time to tell you this, but you have to know eventually," grasping the straps of your handbag, you braced yourself for what you were about to say.

"I have feelings for you Doyoung. That's why I was so hurt that you didn't attend the recital," you paused for a bit, biting your lower lip to hold yourself back from tearing up.

"It made me realize that my life, everything about me, revolves around you. I would literally drop everything when you say you need me. And yet, I'm so far away from your priority list that you can't even sit down for a few minutes to watch me perform," you felt a bit of moisture from your cheeks. Tears were already falling from your face without you even realizing it. 

You wiped your tears away with your sleeves and you held yourself back from sobbing to proceed to talk.

"But it's not your fault. I was the one at fault for lending you my time, and I was the one at fault for setting high expectations for someone who just treats me as a friend," you smiled weakly as you walked towards him one last time.

"So for now, I can't be your friend anymore. Not until I sort my feelings out and make things more awkward for us. Give me time for myself, Doyoung. I'll try to be a better friend soon."

You smiled as you lowered your head once again, your shoulders brushing over when you left the room. You didn't try to look back and walked as fast as possible, holding yourself together just before you reached the exit.

You ran out of their apartment building and as soon as you found a place where you can hide, you finally let yourself go. You sat there balling your eyes out and looked around for signs of your best friend. When you realized that he didn't even make an effort to comfort or follow you, your sobs got even louder as you sat down on the pavement to hug your knees.

"Go on... Let it out."

Someone sat down with you and started patting your back to comfort you. You raised your head and cleared the hair strands that stuck to your face to see who it is. It was Johnny.

"I saw everything that happened. I'm happy that you finally told him."

He rubbed your shoulders to calm you down once again, offering you his handkerchief so you could wipe your tears out. Once you finally managed to stop crying, he stood up from his seat and placed his hands on the pockets of his hoodie.

"If you need to cry all day, I'll be here."

///

Doyoung proved that your presence left a big mark that he never realized before. He thought he was just confused at first, or that he was just getting used to not being able to contact you whenever he could.

Just that evening, he was having a hard time memorizing the new choreography for their comeback. He kept on messing up one of the killing parts and everyone was frustrated that they couldn't move on to the other parts of the choreography. He felt sorry for everyone, so he left practice early to work on it himself without burdening the other members. His first instinct was the grab his phone and listen to your soothing voice, telling him to cheer up and that he will do better tomorrow.

But as soon as he was about to hit the dial button, it pained him to press the back button instead, stuffing the phone into his sweatpants and he wiped the sweat off of him.

He felt very heaviness, even more, when he was changing, basically ripping the door of his locker as he took its contents to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling of sweat. He was both mad and upset at the same time, almost ripping a part of his shirt when he was about to put it on.

He hasn't felt like this in a very long time and he needed a way to get things off of his chest. But without you to do it, it was practically impossible.

He grabbed his matching hat and jacket, stuffing his dirty clothes on his backpack and he made his way out of the building.

He made sure that no one saw him in that state, especially Haechan, who gave him so much shit when everybody found out about your confession.

"Everyone knew, you dumbass."

He just wished somebody would've told him sooner, but he knew it wasn't their place to tell him about it. He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

His heavy footsteps dragged him to the ramen shop that you used to go to together. He stopped coming here when he lost contact with you, and instead of making him feel better, it made him even more upset upon the reminder of how he fucked up. But he needed a way to make himself feel better. Ramen worked back then. Maybe it would work right now.

He made the choice to not sit down at your usual spot, the one closest to the kitchen so you would get your meals as soon as you could. He instead opted for one of the corners. It felt awkward, but he was there to eat, not enjoy the ambiance. He ordered a bowl to himself, something that he wasn't used to seeing on the table. The bowl of ramen looked so empty on the table by itself, and so he ordered a lot of side dishes with a few bottles of soju to comfort himself.

To his surprise, he was served by the same auntie that used to tease you and him before when the two of you used to go to this place. He hoped that she wouldn't recognize and ask for your whereabouts, but he was very unlucky that day.

"Oh. It's been a while since I saw you! How are you?"

Doyoung just bowed to the auntie and told him that he was fine and that he missed eating there for the longest time.

"I'm glad that I finally get to see you! You missed your friend though, she just left earlier."

He was put to a halt. Something about you being mentioned sparked something in him. Although, he wasn't able to pinpoint what that feeling was at that time.

"I think she was showing the place to another friend of yours. The big guy ate a lot, so we're worried for a bit that we’re about to close early for today."

Doyoung felt his heart sink, but he still bowed and thanked the auntie for the meal. 

He stared at the contents of his table for a while, but you would always remind him that the soup tasted better when it's still hot. For some reason though, the bowl of ramen wasn't as tasty as it used to be. He used to finish bowls of that same ramen before, but he couldn't even manage to finish one. He knew better than to waste food though, so he forced himself to eat the rest of it and jumped out of there as soon as he could.

The ramen certainly didn't make him feel better.

///

It's been weeks and the first thing that Doyoung did after waking up was to open his phone for messages. There were a few of them, most of it coming from the other members, but he wasn't interested in reading in any of them.

Getting out of bed seemed harder than usual. He felt a few pounds heavier, which meant he either gained weight or he just lost the will to get up from his bed.

He tried not to stare at his phone as he brushed his teeth, so he kept them hidden in his pocket and used all of his wills to not check on it every hour.

He noticed that there was a bit of commotion coming from outside. He paid no attention and went back to his usual morning routine, getting ready for a separate schedule that he had that morning. He went to his room to get dressed and pack the things that he may need that day. Once everything was done, he went to the kitchen to tell everyone that he was going, but he was met with something else instead.

The rest of the boys were gathered up around the table, enjoying breakfast that he assumed that you made. You just stood there happily as you served everyone pieces of the omelet that you made. You turned around in his direction and he was met with that smile that he missed so much.

"Doie, would you like some?"

The nickname made him flinch. It was something that you never used on him before, but it was enough to make him look away and step out of the room immediately.

"I'm good. I just came to say goodbye to everyone."

"Oh good!" you said as you gathered your things and stuffed them neatly in your tote bag. "I just came here to drop some food because this guy said that he wasn’t feeling well. Let's go together," you said as you tiptoed your way out of the tight kitchen, messing Johnny's hair before you finally stepped out of the room.

"Let's go?" you asked giddily as you grabbed Doyoung's arm and waved to everybody goodbye. He finally realized what you must've felt when it was the other way around.

The walk towards the bus stop was a quiet one. None of you dared to talk. But he noticed that the spring of your step is back, if not better than before. Meanwhile, he was just walking there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to you because of how he left things the last time that you talked. He wanted to talk to you for the longest time, but he respected your wishes to be alone. Now he was regretting making that decision.

The both of you stood there at the nearest bus stop, the atmosphere is even quieter since it was just the two of you standing there.

"I missed you Doie," you spoke, breaking the silence between you too.

"I was hoping that we can talk right after this. You know, just to clear the air."

He remained quiet in his place, not really knowing how to respond to her.

"Meet me at the ramen place later?"

"Sure," Doyoung almost hit himself for answering so soon. To him, he sounded very eager to eat with you once again.

The bus finally arrived and you stepped inside, making your way into the seat. His stare lingered at you for a while, to see if you would look around like how you always did when he sent you home. You took those same steps, hesitating at the eighth one to see if he still stuck around to look at you.

You hesitantly sat back down in your seat, unsure as to whether he finally looked back at you when you were about to leave.

You never saw him though, because he asked you to sit down and within a split second, he was gone from your view.

Guess you're just gonna have to find out tonight.

xxx

#neohbh #nct-writers #nctcreations #kdiarynet #kpopscape #kwritersworldnet #neoculturecafe #neoswitch #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct #nct127 #nct u smut #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung fanfic #doyoung scenarios #doyoung x reader #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #johnny suh #johnny x reader #nct johnny

[mrkcore]

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐧.𝐣𝐦

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: na jaemin x f!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: jaemin as DC’s nightwing/dick greyson, hero!jaemin

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re the one picking him up, piece by piece, even when you’re gone.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): profanity, character deaths, blood, gun use

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k (woopwoop!)

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: ghost of you - 5sos, lie to me - 5sos, woke up in japan - 5sos, want you back - 5sos, more - 5sos, better man - 5sos, moving along - 5sos, thin white lies - 5sos, red desert - 5sos, lonely heart - 5sos, high - 5sos (just me being 5 seconds of summer trash)

𝐚/𝐧: part of @nct-writers​ collab, the heartbreak hotel (this is probably the longest fic i’m ever going to write, so pls gimmie feedback i will love you forever)

“imagine you're watching a runaway trolley barreling down the tracks straight towards five workers who you do not know and can't escape. you happen to be standing next to a switch that will divert the trolley onto a second track. here's the problem. that track has a worker on it, too, just one, but they’re not a stranger. what do you do? do you sacrifice that one person to save five?”

jaemin regrets being the hero in the story. 

jaemin regrets everything.

he constantly ponders the situation playing out where he wasn’t the protagonist. people have always said, “a hero would sacrifice you to save the planet, but a villain would sacrifice the planet to save you”. jaemin always thought that was bullshit, but now he knows the despairing truth. 

he regrets, he regrets, he regrets. but regret won’t bring you back.

you seemed so sure when you told him to let you go and it’d be okay, it wasn’t his fault. how was it so easy for you to think and say that? not his fault? he was basically the reason you’re dead. he just found you after so many years, now you’re gone again; but this time, it’s for real, forever.

jaemin remembers the cold tiny room he was forced to sleep in with the other children in the circus. 

it was a nightmare every single day. with kids screaming, singing, laughing, and running around the room, nobody could get any sleep. what made it worse was that jaemin had no one to talk to. 

none of the other boys liked him, being handsome, dubbed the “face of haly’s circus”, always talking behind your back how the boss always favoured him because he was bringing so many more views in. girls swarming around jaemin ever since him and his parents ever joined, it was so obvious that he was the most popular. jaemin never liked the attention, he was only trying to survive after all.

then, you arrived. 

y/n, the confounding witch, they called you. 

conjuring up little tricks for audience members, brewing up drinks to transform participants into different species of animals, and controlling birds in cages were only a few acts you could do.

the first day boss introduced you to everyone, you seemed so bright and excited to be joining. your unique eye smile, bubbly personality, and caring nature drew jaemin to you. he’s seldomly trying to calm the younger kids down so everyone can rest, but your patience and compassion towards the kids were something they weren’t used to, and eventually caved in.

soon, it became quieter in that god awful room jaemin always dreaded. but jaemin's heart beat louder in his chest than ever.

jaemin was never one to show off. like we established before, the attention jaemin got was not appreciated by him. except, it became different when you arrived.

he was constantly trying to impress you, sway you, hoping the things he did for the crowds of girls that rushed to buy tickets to see him, would work for you too.

however, that was just his wishful thinking.

you were unlike any of the interactions jaemin had with the opposite gender. you were confident, yet humble, witty, intelligent, and easy-going. he is constantly flustered whenever he is engaging in a conversation with you, but tries to act nonchalant whenever he knows you’re nearby.

after shows, girls screamed and bolted towards the entrance where jaemin stood for exit duty, to say goodbye to patrons. he’d always try to be paired with you for it, trying to make you jealous. 

but of course that never happened. jaemin would always be trampled by his enthusiastic female supporters, as surges of them stopped to interact with him. flirting with them all at the same time, they all swooned over your charms. he’d always see you giggle, laughing at his bursts of confidence he’d never have with you by yourselves. 

this continued for a year, until one day, you let something slip.

“ladies, ladies, i’m so glad you could join us for today.” jaemin smiled at the groups in front of him, glancing at you walking an elderly couple out of the tent. “make sure to take good care of yourselves, wouldn’t want anything happening to any of you sweet gals.” and cue the squeals. 

“hope you had fun pretty boy.” you directed to him calmly, as you walked back into the circus. jaemin’s head snapped to stare at your back. he’s stunned, did you just call him a “pretty boy”? 

remembering that the crowd in front of him was still there, he reacted quickly.

“i guess it’s time for me to go, i’ll catch you lovely girls at my next show, i hope.” he leaves with a wink, following your path straight towards you. 

finding you in your little assigned room, jaemin barged in, gaze fixated right on you, not even thinking what to say.

“oh, jaemin, hey.” you say, not even batting an eye, you’re focused on the book in your hands. “what’s up?”

“you called me pretty boy.” he breathed out. 

“yeah i did,” you’re still not paying attention to him. “what about it?”

“you think i’m pretty?” jaemin is suddenly very close to you, his hand caressing your face, lifting your line of sight up to meet his gaze. 

his eyes are sparkling, cheeks a slight tint of pink, with a look of determination. of course you thought he was pretty, anyone who said otherwise would either be lying, or have never seen his gorgeous face.

jaemin must’ve been acting impulsively, because when he realized how close he was to your face, he immediately pulled back.

“i am so sorry,” he says in disbelief. “i don’t know what came over me.”

“it’s okay,” you smile at him, grabbing his hand to where it was before. “i liked it.”

jaemin is flustered again, standing completely frozen as he admires your face up close. 

you’re breathtakingly beautiful. he’s known that you were attractive, but this just created even more butterflies in his stomach. 

“and yes, i do think you’re pretty.” you wink at him.

and that’s where it started.

you and jaemin started spending time together more.

jaemin was still a bit nervous and frenzied at the beginning, but that melted away, and his flirty, outgoing, and annoyingly confident side was revealed to you.

you were also quite popular amongst the other boys in the circus, so when you two were seen more frequently together, they started spreading rumours about jaemin to get you two away from each other.

“oh jaemin’s just trying to use them.”

“jaemin thinks after getting with them, he’s going to cross all of the names off his list.”

“he’s such a player, y’n’s too good for him.”

of course you’d hear them more often than him, the guys would always say these kinds of things around you.

but you know they’re just trying to stir up trouble. so you ignore them. 

just like how jaemin ignores the talk about you amongst his female supporters.

“she’s trying to take him away from us.”

“he’s not as happy anymore.”

“she thinks she’s all that, he’s probably just a new notch in her belt.”

of course jaemin would never listen to them. they’d never know about the secrets you had together, sneaking out of your rooms and sitting on the roof at night stargazing, your note exchanging, late night talks; they knew none of that. 

“i wish things weren’t like this,” you sighed, leaning on his shoulder as you two look at the early sunrise. “i wish we could be free and do whatever we want. this is so unfair.”

jaemin has never really thought about that. every day, his head was flooded with you. but now he thinks about it, it truly was unfair.

jaemin wishes he could take you on on real dates, take you on meaningful trips to explore the rest of the world. not hidden in this awful place where you could barely talk to each other in public. jaemin wishes he could give you more.

“it’s not your fault nana,” you look up at him like you’ve read his mind and know he’s overthinking. “there’s nothing you can do.”

“yeah,” jaemin exhales. “i know.” he tries to smile when you reach up to caress his face, you look at him with so much fondness, jaemin’s worries are almost all blown away. but you know he’s going to be pondering about this for the next week.

“maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our wicked fate.”

but all the gossip got to the point where the boss heard about it, and asked you guys to talk in his office.

“i think we should end it here.” you say one night on the roof, seemingly out of the blue.

“what?” jaemin is speechless, where did that come from? did he hear you wrong?

“he literally asked us to talk,” you’re facing the ground, not even daring to look at him. “it’s serious this time.”

“so you’re going to just throw all of this away?” jaemin asks, slightly furious. “just because of what a bunch of losers are saying?”

“it’s for the best,” you’re still not looking at him. “for the both of us.”

when you finally do look up to see jaemin’s reaction, you see tears in his eyes and you wish you hadn’t looked up.

“fine, if that’s what you want.” jaemin turns around and walks away, breaking that silence.

but what jaemin didn’t know was that it broke your heart to pieces. it took you so much courage to break it off with him, but in the end, you knew what boss haly was capable of. you needed to protect him, so if this is how it needed to go, it’s for the best.

the meeting the next day went smoothly, it was easy for both of you to deny everything since jaemin was giving you the cold shoulder. you didn’t need to pretend. it was for the sake of the both of you.

after the meeting, you didn’t get the chance to talk to jaemin as he rushed to get ready for his special act today. but it’s not like he would listen to you anyways, you couldn’t blame him.

you felt the aura of the circus today, it felt off. very off. 

maybe it was because you were so shaken by you and jaemin's fight. maybe it was nothing, and you were just overreacting. everything was probably fine.

except it wasn’t.  

as all of the spectators settled into their seats, when you tried to peak through the curtain to see the turnout, and as expected, it was packed.

but something catches your eye. a black raven flies in, the ambience in the tent suddenly changes so fast if gives you whiplash. this isn’t good. this isn’t good at all. something bad is going to happen, really bad. 

you’ve never seen that bird in your entire life, and it suddenly hits you.

someone is going to die tonight.

you pray and pray it’s going to be fine, but the unsettling energy gets to you. you need to tell someone.

“jaemin, jaemin!” you call out to him. he turns around, but when he sees you, his face turns sour. your heart sinks, but what you’re about to tell him is more important, so you brush it away.

“what do you want.” he snarls, you gulp back a sob. 

“something bad’s going to happen, i can feel it.” tears are threatening to spill out of you eyes. “someone’s going to die, and i don’t know what to do.”

“oh, so now you care?” jaemin rolls his eyes. “are you jealous that it’s my show tonight and all of those girls front row are here to see me and think they have a chance with me?” you’re shocked by his words, your eyes are wide. you never thought he was capable of saying something like that. “you’re just a little witch, and it’s all just an act. let it go.” tears stream down your face as jaemin huffs and walks away, strutting into the crowd as the ringmaster announces their act: “the flying greysons!”.

and jaemin was wrong. you were right. something awful happened that day.

jaemin watches helplessly as his parents’ high wires snaps and they pummel to their death. 

you were right. and he couldn’t do anything about it.

jaemin runs away that night as he leaves you in that horrible place by yourself, and you never see him again.

and here jaemin is. 10 years after the incident, a college student by day, leader of a crime fighting superhero team by night.

after the incident of his parents’ death, mr. jung jaehyun finds him on his path. crying, sobbing, and vulnerable. jaehyun takes jaemin in under his wing. providing him shelter, food, and as much support as he could. jaemin slowly realized jaehyun’s second identity: batman. 

jaemin has heard of jaehyun’s street name. but he’d never thought that he’d meet him in real life, and batman would be someone so similar to him. jaehyun saw a reflection of his younger self, the grief of losing your parents, the reality check of the world being a cruel place at a young age, he didn’t want jaemin to spiral in the same way he did. 

so even though jaemin lived a life of normalcy, his past never stopped coming back to haunt him. 

especially you.

jaehyun dug up some information about the circus, and piles and piles of their dark secrets were revealed. so did the truth of jaemin’s parents’ deaths too. how a well-known and feared crime-lord, threatened the circus unless the owner paid extortion money. boss haly refused, and that night someone messed with the equipment for the performance, resulting in the catastrophe. 

you were right all along, and jaemin didn’t listen to you. it was his fault, everything was his fault.

he even left you there by yourself, all alone, and he never got to say goodbye. oh how wishes he could see you one last time, and say all those things he wanted to these years. 

nightmares woke him throughout elementary school, middle school, high school, and even sometimes during his college time.

the same dream over and over, you reaching your hand out for jaemin to grab and save, but he’s too far away. and you fade away. 

inspired by what jaehyun did to help him, jaemin started to do the same. 

with a bunch of lost and uncared for young kids in new york, jaemin took them under his wing like jaehyun did with him.

with help from trusted individuals he met on the street, mark, renjun, jeno, and haechan, they started to take care of chenle and jisung full time. getting them off the street, given proper shelter, food, water, clean clothes, and access to education, this was the start of the dreamies. 

today was the same as any other.

jaemin’s philosophy and law studies class has just finished up and he’s walking to his favourite cafe to finish up some work.

“jaemin?” he hears a familiar voice behind him. 

he turns around and sees you. you haven’t changed a bit, still as homely and comforting as he can remember.

is he in a dream right now? how is this possible? 

“oh gosh, it really is you.” you laughed, the same laugh you had. jaemin feels this unknown warmth and reassurance with you here, like a weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. your eyes glimmer, looking at him affectionately.

“yep, right here in the flesh.” jaemin starts tearing up. “oh you big baby, why are you crying?”

jaemin pulls you in as he hugs your waist.

surprised by his emotional state, you were going to speak up again. but you choose not to. standing there, a bit awkwardly, stroking his soft hair, embracing him.

and you’re back. 

jaemin learns that you recently moved to new york city recently for your journalist job position, and you’re looking for a place to move in to.

he’s quick to offer his place, even though he’s still in college, his apartment is big enough for two people.

“are you sure?” you’re hesitant to accept his suggestion. “i don't want to be a big burden. you’re probably really busy as a student.”

“no, i’m fine.” he responds, enthusiastically. “my schedule is pretty much free since i’m third year now.”

and you accept. saying you’re only going to crash for a while until you found another place.

cherishing the time you had together, during the day, jaemin went to his lectures while you went to work, but when you got home, you did everything together. to the point where jaemin barely saw the dreamies, his crime-fighting crew.

staying up to watch the stars and sunrise, talking and laughing until your eyes were threatening to close. conversing about literally anything. 

but as time went by, you noticed that jaemin didn’t really want to talk about what happened back at the circus. you understood since he lost his parents that night, but he never asked you about how you left and ended up in new york. but you don’t push it, you understand that it’s a rough patch in both of you guys’ lives. 

“do you have anything that you regret?” you ask one night, you truly were just curious.

“not listening to you that night.” he says, monotone. “and leaving you by yourself at the circus when i ran away.”

“jaemin…” you start, but no words leave your mouth.

“fuck!” jaemin abruptly exclaims, mood crashing, turning furious. “it’s all that bastard haly’s fault.”

you shouldn’t have asked.

“if he didn’t make that fucking circus, everything would have been fine! it’s his fault, all his fault, i’m going to get revenge and kill that son-of-a-bitch one day!” he’s yelling now. “we could have met in normal circumstances, we could’ve gotten married, created a family, enjoyed life like all of these snarky city folk. why?”

you wipe the tears that are rolling down his face as he turns to cry in your chest. 

“i’m sorry i brought this up.” you pat his head as his sobs turn into soft snores, head in your lap. “maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.” 

it’s been a year now. it doesn’t seem like you’re moving out anytime soon, but jaemin’s not complaining. he loves having you here, you’ve become a standard part of his day. 

with jaemin more adapted to your appearance, he has started to become more involved with the dreamies.

helping 10-15 kids each month, the squad has advanced to milestones jaemin never thought it’d be at. he is so thankful to have the group and you there supporting him.

you’ve even discussed marriage. 

“y/n na has a nice ring to it, y’know.” jaemin beams.

“you’re such a softie.” you giggle out, but jaemin knows you like it. 

jaemin knows you want to wait until you have a stable job and when he graduates, but the thought always makes him elated. 

“what song would you play for our first dance at out wedding?” he asked one morning, waking up to the sun shining heavenly on you.

“hmm,” you grin. “best part, daniel caesar, h.e.r.”

“you’re perfect.” jaemin kisses your face as you cuddle into his warm chest.

imagining you in a white dress, walking up to the alter on your wedding day, saying your vows, slow dancing. you’re the only person jaemin has visioned a future with, and the only person jaemin wants a future with. 

the next day, you agree to slow dance with him in the living room.

jaemin is on cloud nine.

but like the old saying, all good things must come to an end. 

it’s been 5 years now.

jaemin comes home one night to the apartment door open, which is really unusual.

jaemin thinks it might be a robbery, but nothing is stolen, the apartment looked the same as it was when he left this morning.

but you’re nowhere to be found. jaemin isn’t panicked, maybe you went on a walk and forgot to close the door–

there’s a note on the dining room table.

“meet me on the top of the empire state building to see y/n, if you bring someone else, it’ll be for the last time.”

what is that supposed to mean?

was it one of the dreamies’ past enemies trying to get back at them? 

nonetheless, jaemin is bolting out the door.

when he gets there, he sees the dreamies tied up, sitting and struggling at the feet of someone jaemin never thought he’d see ever again. c.c. haly, the owner of haly’s circus jaemin escaped a whole decade ago.

haly smirks as he sees jaemin approaching, but jaemin is scowling. 

“what are you doing here?” jaemin snaps out, carefully advancing.

“i’m here to finish what you started.” haly says.

“how did you even find me?” jaemin snarls, stopping a fair distance between him and haly. “how did you find my friends?”

unexpectedly, haly starts to cackle loudly at his questions. turning around to reveal someone who has been absent, someone jaemin would never have thought of.

you. 

jaemin’s mind is internally crashing. why are you with haly? what is going on?

“y/n, do you want to explain to our dear jaemin here what’s going on?” haly finds so much amusement playing with you both, watching this event unfold.

“jaemin, i’m so sorry.” your lips are trembling, tears are starting to flood your vision.

“so it was all a lie?” jaemin can’t believe it. “everything that happened this year, it was just you building up to just stab me in the back?”

“i did it to protect you.” you’re sobbing hard now.

“save it.” jaemin cuts you off, now focusing on haly. “what do you want.”

“i want you dead.” haly says, blankly. 

“so what’s the deal.” the dreamies’ mouths were duct taped, but their muffled cries can still be heard.

haly is howling again.

“i get to kill you,” haly grins sinisterly. “and i let y/n and your little friends free.”

“if jaemin says yes, let me say one last thing to him.” your crying has stopped. “it’s the least you can do.”

jaemin is confused. are you just offering him up to haly with no fight? what are you thinking?

you look at him with pleading eyes, asking him to trust you. 

the same eyes he saw that day his parents died, and he knows to trust you.

“okay,” jaemin states boldly. “i say yes. now let y/n talk to me.”

haly is stunned. how did you convince jaemin to agree so quick? maybe haly was right to use you this time. the least he could do is to let jaemin and you have time to still pretend to be in love. so haly allows you to walk up to jaemin to talk.

“y/n, what are you doing.” jaemin whispers frantically.

“trust me, trust me this time.” you glance at him with weary eyes. “when i’m walking back to haly, when i signal to you, i want you to grab your friends and run. can you do that for me?” 

“what?” jaemin tries not to react to much that haly catches on, but do you hear what you’re suggesting? “you want me to just leave you here again?”

“jaemin listen to me, i’ll be fine. trust me.”

and you turn around, not letting jaemin respond.

there’s nothing he can do but go along with your plan.

and when you signal to him behind your back, jaemin grabs the dreamies and drags them away. everything is a whirlwind and happens in a flash. jaemin looks back and you’re struggling trying to get the gun out of haly’s hand. 

you notice jaemin stopping.

“jaemin, fucking RUN.” you scream at him.

there’s nothing he can do. and he hates himself that he got himself in this situation again. so he runs again, like the coward he is.

jaemin runs, because literally the dreamies’ lives are depending on him. when he gets them to safety, when he unties jeno, jeno pushes him towards where they came from.

“go.” jeno is huffing trying to catch his breath after removing the duct tape off his mouth. “i’ll untie everyone else, go get her.”

jaemin looks at jeno, and turns back for you.

when jaemin arrives back at the scene, you’re on the ground. he runs panic-stricken to you, finding you bleeding out really hard. 

“y/n? y/n, y/n please, are you okay?” he’s shaking you, distraught seeing you in this state.

“jaemin, i’m okay.” you say, barely any breath left in you. “i have the gun here, haly is behind the big box over there.”

“y/n, what are you talking about, we need to get you to the hospital.” jaemin tries to pick you up but you don’t allow him.

“use the gun and kill him.” you mutter out, quieter than before. “it’s what you wanted, jaemin. and he’ll be gone.” you’re smiling softly just thinking about it.

“y/n, are you insane? you’re going to die i could care less about haly, i’m taking you to the hospital–”

“jaemin let me go.” you mumble, stroking his cheek while you’re examining his pretty face for the last time. “it’ll be okay, it’s not your fault.”

“y/n…” jaemin’s tears are staining his shirt as he holds you tightly, trying to preserve your life.

“i love you, na jaemin.” a tear falls from your dazed gaze and trickles down your cold face. “i’m sorry that this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.”

and you’re gone. 

jaemin screams. tears dripping down his face, he picks up the gun beside you and storms towards haly.

he’s basically sitting in a pool of his own blood and has no strength to get up anymore.

“is little greyson here to get revenge for his parents and little witch y/n?” he cackles even in the last moments of his life.

“yeah i am, they didn’t die for you to see another day too.”

haly is laughing sadistically again as if jaemin just told a joke, but the laughter subsides after the bullets fire through haly’s limp body. 

and he’s dead too. leaving jaemin alone, again. 

it’s been 2 years since you’ve died.

here he is, waking up. still can’t sleep on your side.

he really can’t sleep on your side, because it reminds him of those times where he woke up to your warm embrace, and now it’s desolately cold.

there’s your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time.

he’s saved everything you had, and hasn’t touched anything. he’s also saved everything you shared, your bed, your apartment, everything. he needs those to remind him of those bittersweet memories of you.

when jaemin was going through your stuff, he finds a piece of paper on your work desk.

my dear jaemin,

when you find this, i’m probably going to be gone. but that’s okay, and i’ll tell you why.

first of all, thank you so much for these past 5 years. thank you for showing me what living life is like, what being a part of a family is like, and what being in love is like. you told me you wished you could give me a normal life, and you really fulfilled your wish. 

you must have so many questions right now, so i’m going to answer them.

i never left haly’s after you ran away. i couldn’t. because he was threatened by so many mobs and gangs everywhere, he had to kill off the other people that were a part of the circus. but he kept me. because i was the key to you. the government started an investigation into him, and he needed to keep a low-profile, but he still was angry that you didn’t die that night too. so he plotted this for years, and i just had to go along with it.

at first, i only agreed because i wanted to see you. i was young and still naive at the time, thinking that he wanted to see you too. but as i got older, i saw what he was planning. he would kill me in front of you and then take you out as well if i didn’t do as he said, so i kept quiet. i really did this to protect you.

i enjoyed every second being with you. you showed me the meaning of life i heard our patrons talk about. you showed me what true love was when i saw those elderly couples walking together as they look at each other adoringly while telling me they’ve been in love and married for decades. if i could choose to stay with you for a lifetime, i would, i would choose it a million times.

but i thought very long about this, and it truly is the only way.

remember when i asked you if you regretted anything that night? you mentioned how you regretted not listening to me, how you left me alone at the circus. and that’s when i realized, it was indeed our cruel fate.

you feel bad for me. you feel bad that you didn’t listen, you feel bad for leaving me at the circus, but it’s been over a decade. i know with me constantly here, you’re never going to stop feeling guilty, you’d never let the past go. we’re too young, too dumb, to know things like love. but i know better now. 

so jaemin, i did what i had to do. the best for the both of us. you got your revenge for your parents, and you’ll stop feeling guilty because i don’t want to hold you back and keep you feeling like this forever. 

i’m sorry jaemin i put you through all of this, and reminder that this is not your fault.

my love, nana, truly, truly, truly, thank you for everything. everything, everything, everything. 

there wasn’t a single day where i stopped wanting you. i want you in the most innocent form, i want to say goodnight to you and give you forehead kisses and say i love you when you feel at your worst. i want you in ways where i just want to be next to you and nothing more or less. i wish i could explain your eyes, oh how i adore your angel eyes, and how the sound of your voice gives me butterflies. how your smile makes my heart skip a beat and how every time i’m with you, i feel so complete. i swear when our lips touched, i could taste the remaining years of my life. i want you to know that when i picture myself happy, it’s with you.

i’ve looked at you in millions of ways, and i have loved you in every way.

but this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.

my pretty boy, i love you forever.

his tears are ruining the page, and jaemin tries to wipe his tears away to save the letter.

when he turns around, he swears he can see you. and he chases it down, with a shot of truth.

maybe if he dreams long enough, you’d tell him he’d be just fine.

walking into the living room, remembering how you guys would slow dance like it was your wedding. your wedding. 

and he drowns it out, like he always does. dancing through your house, with a shot of truth, that his feet don’t dance, like the way they did with you.

jaemin knows your letter was right, he’s going to slowly get better, but he needs some time. meanwhile, he needs something help him cope, to get him by. 

so he’s dancing through your house, with the ghost of you.

©mrkcore, 2021.

#cznnet #nct-writers #nctcreations #neoswitch #neoturtles #neohbh #nct writing #nct dream writing #nct dream #nct #nct dream angst #nct jaemin #nct dream jaemin #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct smut #jaemin scenarios #nct fics #nct dream fics #jaemin fics #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #jaemin imagines #jaemin angst #nct angst

[nct-writers]

#NEOHBH MASTERLIST

Where you can be treated for whatever wounds your poor heart has tolerated. Heartbreak Hotel has 23 employees, all of whom will be wholeheartedly devoted to healing your heart, after which you shall be asked to leave. 

THE SAID EVENT CAN BE FOUND HERE

FLOOR 1: SHOCK & DENIAL  FLOOR 2: PAIN & GUILT  FLOOR 3: ANGER & BARGAINING

KUN / ROOM 010196 /  (MARCH 16. 21)

– Hardest to love by ( @neonun-au ) | 1.5k ❍ Kun x fem!reader ❍ pure angst, lovers to exes ❍ Warnings: divorce

JAEHYUN / ROOM 021496 / (MARCH 17. 21)

– Sacrifice by ( @sly-merlin ) | 7k ❍ prince jaehyun x princess y/n ❍ fluff, angst. ❍ Warnings: Includes dirt play, revenge. Major character deaths like MAJOR, mentions of blood, murder, killing, assassination and an explicit scene of killing. 

FLOOR 4: DEPRESSION 

RENJUN / ROOM 032300 / (MARCH 18. 21)

– Timeless by ( @give-seconds ) | 9.5k ❍ RenJun x gender neutral reader ❍ angst with a happy ending, slight fluff ❍ Warnings: Renjun works on the depression floor, so hopefully this is kinda sad. 

FLOOR 5: THE UPWARD TURN  FLOOR 6: RECONSTRUCTION 

DOYOUNG / ROOM 020196 / (MARCH 25.21) 

– Don’t call me by ( @soliverse ) | 3.85k ❍ reader x bestfriend!doyoung ❍ so much angst, slight fluff ❍ Warnings: none

JAEMIN / ROOM 081300 / (MARCH 27. 21)

– Ghost of you by ( @mrkcore ) | 5.3k ❍ na jaemin x f!reader ❍ angst, fluff, jaemin as DC’s nightwing/dick greyson, hero!jaemin ❍ Warnings: profanity, character deaths, blood, gun use

FLOOR 7: ACCEPTANCE & HOPE

XIAOJUN / ROOM 080899 / (MARCH 28. 21)

 – Whispers of the heart by ( @ethaeriyeol ) | 1.7k ❍ female!reader x Xiaojun ❍ angst, short smut; established relationship au, lovers to exes au; reader pov ❍ Warnings: making out, rough & messy kisses, lip biting, breast groping and kneading, mentions of body parts, keeping secrets, anxiety, heartbreak, moving on, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol

JISUNG / ROOM 020502 / (MARCH 31. 21) 

– the things i know by ( @byunbaekby ) | 14.8k ❍ soccerplayer!jisung x female reader ❍ angst, fluff, high school au, strangers to lovers au, first love au, long distance relationship, hurt and comfort, coming of age ❍ Warnings: underage drinking, cancer, character death, language, mentions of hickeys, fainting, mentions and descriptions of hospitals, soccer inaccuracies, lots of angst (you’ve been warned!)

#neohbh #events

[give-seconds]

Timeless

Summary: Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel! Where you can be treated for whatever wounds your poor heart has tolerated. Heartbreak Hotel has 23 employees, all of whom will be wholeheartedly devoted to healing your heart, after which you shall be asked to leave. Heartbreak Hotel not only offers never-seen-before deals and techniques, it also has special floors to regulate the healing of your heart! 

This is part of the Heartbreak Hotel collaboration hosted by @nct-writers. This is my first ever collaboration and I had so much fun being apart of this. I hope you enjoy!

Paring: RenJun x gender neutral reader

Genre: angst with a happy ending, slight fluff

Warnings: Renjun works on the depression floor, so hopefully this is kinda sad. 

Word count: 9.5K

---

“Hi y/n.”

You turn your attention away from your phone, looking up to see the new employee you would be working with. New day, new stage, new employee.

“As you know, my name is Renjun, and I’ll be working with you on this floor.”

Setting your phone on the table screen down, you watch as he pulls out the chair across from you. He’s young– like everyone else in the hotel– and as he sits down, you can’t help but notice how small he is.

“Want to tell me why you’re here?”

You laugh humorlessly, looking down at your sleeves as you play with them. “You know why I’m here, it’s all in the paperwork.”

He smiles kindly, crossing his legs. “What if I told you I haven’t read the paperwork yet?”

You crack a light smile. “Then I’d say you’re not the best at your job.”

He nods his head, his small smile still spread across his face. “Well then, why don’t you tell me what happened so I don’t get fired?”

Quite frankly, you hate that you’re here. You never understood the need for this place when a good friend is all you need. After all, why talk to seven different strangers, and relive the hurt seven different times when you can tell one person one time. One and done.

But what happens when it’s your best friend who breaks your heart?

“I would really prefer it if you talked to one of the other employees I talked to or read the paperwork. I can’t keep talking about this, I-”

You snap your mouth shut and close your eyes. You can already feel the tears burning your eyelids, and you bring your hands from your lap to hold your head in your hands, elbows resting on the table.

God, I hate crying.

“Y/n, I know this is hard. But talking about it makes it better, that’s why we have our seven floors. We believe it takes a least a week to get a proper grip on your heartbreak, to be able to go back out and be-” he brings his hands up in a gesture of quotation marks, “‘Okay.’”

“I get that, it makes sense. I don’t know what the people who come in here are normally like, but I can’t talk about my feelings that often. It’s too hard.”

“I get that. It’s a good thing I don’t like to jump into the touchy-feely stuff right away. So why don’t you tell me what happened?” He smiles softly, and like everyone else in this hotel, you can feel a sense of comfort radiating from him. “We don’t even have to talk about feelings if you don’t want to.”

You nod your head, dropping your hands onto the table. “My best friend, she cut me out. She stopped answering my texts and wouldn’t pick up my phone calls.” You scoff as the memory plays through your mind. “She even went as far as to stand me up the one time I was able to get through to her. She was too busy partying.”

“So that’s why you’re here?”

You shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes. You feel so stupid talking with a stranger about your problems. Problems you should be solving on your own.

But it was eating you alive. Then one night, talking to a few strangers seemed less scary than sitting with those thoughts alone for another night.

“No, I’m here because I finally got the courage to tell her I was done if things kept going the way they were. That I was done being in a one-sided relationship.”

“How did that go?”

“It went well. She sent me a response saying she was sorry and that she never meant to hurt me. I thought it was going to be okay and that I was going to have my best friend back.” You smile sadly as her smiling face flashes through your mind. “You know she’s my oldest friend?”

He smiles, resting his head on his clasped hands. “Oh really?”

You nod your head. “I had moved to a new city so, of course, I didn’t have anyone. I joined a play to make new friends, and there she was. She’s everything I’m not, good and bad. I think I thought I could help her not be so sad. I thought I was, I mean, she told me I was. She told me I was special to her.”

“From my experience,” he says softly, “people don’t normally lie about that sort of thing. I’m sure you meant something to her. Now, of course, I’m not her so I can’t say for sure.”

You haven’t talked to many people about your recent heartbreak– specifically, only one person– but when you had, you had gotten a very stereotypical answer. “You don’t need her, she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

You appreciated the thought, but it didn’t help. Simply hearing that it would be okay and that she didn’t know what she was missing didn’t help fight the feelings of nothingness that threatened to take over.

“You’re right, neither of us are her, so we’ll never know. But you wanna know my theory?”

“Shoot.”

“I think I used to mean something to her. And then, she found someone else.”

His eyes softened, and if you had to guess, he had just figured out why you had moved to this floor.

“Okay y/n, here’s what we’re going to do. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of sitting here. So you’re going to give me a list of your favorite snacks– whether that’s chocolate, chips, fruit, or all of the above– and your favorite movie from your childhood.”

You stared at him, scanning his eyes. He didn’t say anything either, looking back at you with a calm expression.

You couldn’t understand. This hotel has been in business for three years now, and no doubt every employee is good at their job. If Renjun is any good at his job, he would have a pretty good, if not solid, idea why you had moved to the Depression floor. So why stop now?

“I don’t- why?”

He shrugs his shoulders, leaning back in his chair. “Well, when I’m sad, my favorite thing is to just go back to my childhood.”

“But don’t you want to know more? We didn’t even get into the root of it.”

He shifts in his chair, crossing his legs. “I know, but you said you don’t like feelings. Like you said, you have to recount this event multiple times. Right now, you’re in one of the hardest stages of this journey. You already passed through what, in my mind, are two of the hardest stages. There’s no doubt in my mind you’re tired and just ready for the hardness to end.

“Once you’re ready to move on, whether that's tomorrow or next week, you’ll be moving onto easier steps.” He smiles brightly. “Now, I don’t want you looking back on your time with me and thinking it was horrible. So, I was thinking, we could have a little party to bring some of the joy that comes in the later stages to us now.”

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t a party. When your friend sent you the details of this hotel, you read they offered “never-seen-before deals and techniques.” Until now, you couldn’t imagine what that meant. 

Clearing your throat, you give Renjun one of the weakest smiles you’ve ever given anyone. He’s right, I am tired.

“Okay, sounds good,” you agreed.

He smiles brightly, standing up from the table. “Awesome, you’ll find my contact in the hotel app you downloaded. Text me your list and the movie, and I’ll see you when I get back from the store.”

You nod your head, waving back at him as he slips out the door.

You let out a deep breath, looking up towards the left, and fanning your eyes. Bringing your eyes to look at the door, you hit your hand against your chest above your heart twice. You appreciate his efforts. You appreciate the hotel’s efforts, but you’re so tired.

You’ve cried so much since you checked in, not to mention you’ve been in a foreign place for the past few days meeting new people every time you progressed with your heartbreak.

Just when you felt you were getting somewhere, you were moved to a different floor and had to get comfortable with a new employee. You understand why they did it; having specialists for each stage of heartbreak is a great idea.

A great idea in theory, but exhausting in practice

Shaking your head, you pick up your phone to start making a list of things you’d like him to buy.

---

“Come in,” you call, hearing a knock at your door.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Renjun says, walking into the room holding a bag of groceries in one hand and two sweatshirts slung over his other arm. “It took me forever to find this one thing, and by the time I had, of course traffic had to be terrible. So what started as a thirty-minute mission turned into an hour-long one.”

“It’s okay, it’s not like I have anywhere to be,” you say, motioning to how you were sitting on the bed, the blanket pulled over your lap.

“I know, but I still made you wait.” He sets the bags at the bedside, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. He smiles widely as he takes the sweatshirts from around his arm and lays them out on the bed. “Now, on top of snacks, I also brought oversized sweaters. Take your pick!”

You look at the two sweatshirts, one yellow and one grey, before reaching out to grab the grey one and pulling it into your lap. I was starting to get a little cold.

Sticking your hand inside one of the sleeves, you smile at the soft feeling. “Is this why you asked to first meet me at six? You wanted to do this?”

He grabs the yellow sweatshirt and pulls it over his head as he answers. “Yeah. Most of the staff like to get to know new clients over lunch or dinner, but I like this method better. Breaks up the routine and spices up everyone’s life.”

You nod your head, looking up from the sweatshirt to him. You let out a small, ‘oh,’ realizing he was still sitting at the foot of the bed.

“You can sit here,” you say softly, patting the spot next to you.

He bends down to grab the bag before crawling to sit next to you, dumping the bag of snacks onto the bed between you two.

“What are these?” you ask, picking up a snack bag with Chinese characters on it.

“Oh, these are some of my favorite snacks from when I was little. I normally don’t buy them

when I go out for a client’s snacks, but I’ve been feeling particularly homesick lately.”

“You’re from China?”

“Yep!”

You tilt your head to the side, flipping the bag to look at the back. “How’d you end up working for this hotel?”

“My friend Chenle – he also works on this floor – told me about his cousin Kun who was starting this hotel with his friend Taeyong, who he met while studying abroad here in Korea. We thought it was a cool idea, so we dragged our other friend Yangyang down with us. It’s actually how most of the foreign members got here. Sicheng-Ge is Kun-Ge’s friend, Yuta-Hyung is Taeyong-Hyung’s friend, Shotaro is Yuta-Hyung’s friend, Mark-Hyung and Johnny-Hyung came through Ten-Hyung, and God knows how Ten-Hyung showed up.”

You snort, placing the bag back in the middle and grabbing one of the brown snack bags he bought for you. “That sounds fun. Do you all get along?”

“I mean, of course, we get along.” He pauses, pursing his lips in thought, before shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, I don’t really know some of the older staff that well, and I don’t know Sungchan or Shotaro that well either, but we all get along.”

“So it’s like you have a massive family gathering every day?”

“A family gathering.” He turns to you, smiling. “That’s a perfect way to put it.”

He looks down at the bedside table before twisting over and reaching for the remote. He hums as he scrolls through the apps, looking for a specific one. You watch silently as he flicks through them, trying to push back the sudden thoughts on why you're here.

Tonight is about watching a childhood movie and temporarily forgetting the heartbreak. Easy enough.

“Are you ready for the best movie night you will have here at Heartbreak Hotel?”

You smile at the excitement in his voice. He seems genuinely excited to watch this movie.

“Ready.”

He makes a point to dramatically press play before dropping the remote between you two and picking up one of the bags he bought for himself. He shifts around on the bed, pulling his knees close to him.

Suddenly, the closeness of the action hits you. You can’t remember the last time someone did something like this for you.

You love your friend who helped get you here, they mean a lot to you. But after your other friend started ignoring you, you had never felt so alone before. Loneliness turned to pushing people away, which meant you had no one to come and spend time with you. Maybe you were too good at convincing your friends you were okay, but you were hoping they’d surprise you with something.

You know you aren’t thinking straight, so you can’t help but think the fact your friend hadn’t tried to cheer you up and your best friend dropping you was because of you. Maybe you’re too boring, too serious.

You shake your head, quickly wiping away a few tears. No, now is not the time to be wallowing in self-pity. Not while watching a kid’s movie.

“Are you okay?”

You sigh, pulling the sleeves of the sweatshirt over your hands, not looking away from the movie. “I’m just so tired, Renjun.”

He nods his head in understanding. “I can imagine, it’s hard what you’re going through. Of course, I’m not forcing you to talk to me about it. I’m here to help you y/n, and if that is just sitting with you and watching movies then so be it. But it does help to talk about it, that’s why we’re here.”

You close your eyes, leaning against the wall. “I just feel stuck. I thought coming here would be hard. I mean, crying is one of the hardest things for me to do. Then I’m sitting here with you, and I want to tell you everything. There’s, um, there’s just this fear. If I tell you my thoughts, why I’m here, then along with those feelings come the feelings of self-pity. I’m so scared of self-pity, Renjun.”

“I know what you’re talking about, and I know how helpless that can feel. Truth is, we feel what we feel. Some things are good to ignore, like the urge I sometimes get to just punch Chenle or Yangyang.” You tilt your head to the side to look at him, and he smiles at you. “You’re right to be somewhat afraid of those feelings. It’s easy to let them consume you. But do you want to know my basic rule of thumb?”

You adjust your head to look back at the movie, watching mindlessly as the film plays in front of you. “Sure.”

“Give yourself two days to feel sorry for yourself, and if after two days those feelings are still there, pick yourself up and move on. Those feelings don’t have to be gone completely, but after two days you have to start living your life again.”

“Can those two days start tomorrow?”

“Of course y/n, we go at your pace.”

---

“Good morning y/n, fancy some ice cream?” Renjun asks, swinging the door open.

“Good morning Renjun.” You check the clock on the bedside table. “It’s 12:30 in the afternoon.”

“So?” He leans against the closed door, arms crossed. “I’m in the mood for ice cream and either I go with you or by myself. And if you ask me, talking to you is way more fun than talking to myself.”

“I don’t know Renjun, I’m kind of tired. Plus, I was hoping we could talk before I lose the courage to.”

He nods, uncrossing his arms and pushing off the door. “Okay, then change of plans. We talk first and then get ice cream.” He makes his way over to you, extending his hand out to you. “Either way, you should leave that bed and this room.”

You smile slightly, taking his hand as he helps pull you up from the bed. He smiles brightly, dropping his hand to his side. “We’re going outside, so if you need to grab anything for that, now’s your chance! I’ll be right out by the door, so when you’re ready, come and get me.”

Before you can say anything, he is already walking out the room.

“Renjun, wait.”

He turns around, a hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”

“Why are we going outside? I thought we were going to talk first.”

“We are.” He looks around the room before his eyes land back on you, a smile lighting his face. “You need a change of scenery.”

With that, he pulls open the door and walks into the hallway.

You tilt your head slightly, confused at the random action. You thought the first thing you two would do today would be to talk. He seemed like the kind of person to want to get the talking out of the way.

But now he’s taking you somewhere to get ice cream? You shake your head, bending to grab your phone from the bed before walking towards the door to pull on your shoes.

“That was fast,” he smiles, pushing himself off the wall.  

“Yeah, I was already dressed so all I had to do was put my shoes on. If you weren’t in such a hurry, you would’ve seen that,” you tease.

He shrugs his shoulders, turning to walk down the hallway. “Had I done that, you might have objected. But look at us now.”

You chuckle at his statement, walking the rest of the way to the elevators in silence.

“Where are we going?” you ask as he pushes the down button.

“You’ll see.” He smiles, walking into the elevator.  

When the elevator opens on the bottom floor, he leads you out and to the left towards a door with a sign “staff only” taped at the front. He pulls the door open, and walks in before holding the door open behind him for you. It’s a small room, with the only things inside being a white board hung on the wall and a door leading outside. Once you’re in, he takes the whiteboard marker from the top of a whiteboard and writes an RJ in one of the 7 boxes taped out on the board.

“You’re going to love this,” he says, pressing the pen back into its holder before walking to the door.

When you step out, you’re met with what you can only describe as a garden straight out of a movie. A gravel pathway led to what looks like a hedge maze. As he leads you towards the entrance of the maze, you reach your hand out to touch the bush.

He leads you past two doors built into the hedge, one on the left and one on the right. When you two reach the second set of doors, he pulls open the one on the left and motions for you to go in. Upon entering, you’re surrounded by hedge on all sides.

Opposite the door, a black metal bench sat in front of the hedge. Across from the bench and to the left of the door, a beautiful flower wall, full of white, peach, and red colored flowers covered a majority of the hedge.

“Renjun, it’s beautiful,” you marveled, taking a seat on the bench. “I didn’t know you guys had an area like this.”

He nods his head, taking a seat next to you, and looking at the scenery around the bench. “Yeah, it's really beautiful out here. There’s a section out here for each floor, and since we have multiple employees on each floor, it’s first come first serve. But I’ve used space assigned to another floor when Chenle or Mark-Hyung were using this one, so it doesn’t really matter.”

You nod your head. “I imagine that has caused some troubles.”

“No, surprisingly not yet.” He takes a deep breath, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him tilt his head up to the sky. “I always think better outside- it feels less confining. So I thought this would be a better place to talk as opposed to somewhere with four walls and a ceiling. You also don’t have to worry about others hearing you here. No one else signed in. With that in mind, feel free to start talking whenever you’re comfortable. We have all day.”

As soon as he’s done talking, a silence falls between you two. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes as you push back the thoughts telling you it was a trap. You know that by telling him everything, it would get hard. You knew the self-pity you were so scared of would worm its way in after every word you said to him.

Living with that would be better than how muted you felt now.

“I’m just tired and scared.” You start slowly, letting out a shaky breath. “My entire life, I’ve had trouble getting close to people. For as long as I can remember, I’ve only had two friends. I mean, sure, I had people who were nice to me and we could have nice conversations, but we weren’t friends. I’ve long since accepted that I’ll never be anyone’s first choice; my dad would pick my sister over me, my friend who sent me here would pick her childhood friend, and my friend who left picked her other friends over me.”

You quickly wipe your eyes, taking a deep breath before you continue. “I don’t care about that- it is what it is. I just never expected her to leave me like that, to just cut me out of her life. When she first started doing it, I told myself I was fine. I’m not dumb I know that it isn’t solely my fault she distanced herself. She has a hard life, and I’m sure that’s a major reason this is happening– I’ve already worked this out on the anger floor– but at the same time, I can’t help but think it’s because of me.”

A sob escapes your mouth, and you bring your hand to rest against your forehead. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try and get your breathing under control again.

You’re sick of crying, it’s all you’ve been doing this past week. If you weren’t crying, you were ignoring the numb feeling that has made a home in your gut. The same feeling that took away some of the joy you should be feeling at all the genuine acts Renjun and the rest of the staff have shown you.

You’re sick of living with muted feelings.

“You already said you knew it wasn’t because of you that she did what she did. I know it’s hard, but don’t backtrack on those feelings. Don’t let the hurt you feel from losing a friend turn those thoughts around on you.”

You lean forward, placing your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. “I know, I know, but it’s so hard. It’s just, my mom and I aren’t on the best of terms right now. I mean, there was a time in my life when she would just leave for months to go on vacation by herself.”

You shake your head hoping to straighten out your thoughts, sitting back up. You wipe your eyes, pushing back any thoughts of how you must look right now. “It’s like, every night before I fall asleep, I’ll remember a funny or happy moment we had together. With that memory, the reality that I can never go back to a time when she wanted me hurts. Which makes me come full circle to if it took my mom years to even want to be around me, doesn’t it make sense that the same thing that pushed her away since birth pushes one of my closest friends away?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You don’t blame him for being at a loss for words, frankly, you have no idea what you’d say to someone in your position. Even if it is his job, having strangers pour their hearts out to him probably never gets easy.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, his lack of words making you feel anxious you had said something wrong. “It’s just I-”

Before you could continue your explanation, Renjun cuts you off. “Don’t apologize to me unless you do something to hurt me or the people I care about.”

You turn your head to face him, the sincerity in his voice surprising you. He flashes you a quick smile before turning his attention back towards the wall in front of him.

“With regards to your friend, I think what you need to do is practice taking a break from the problem. Clear your head and then approach it from an outside view. To give you a head start on that outside view, let me offer you mine.

“I don’t know the whole story, so feel free to call me out on anything wrong. But sometimes people just leave because their lives are going in different directions. You told me she has a hard life, so maybe her cutting you out is just an unfortunate consequence. This can be said about your mom and her- some people are just self-destructive and scared. Maybe they saw their relationship with you as something that will last a long time. Something like that can be scary to some people, so if I had to guess, part of them leaving is tied to them being scared. I’m not asking you to forgive her or to ignore your feelings on the relationship, but maybe if you can look at it as the result of someone hiding from their fear, it could help you.”

You nod your head, letting the words sink in. You don’t know if you’re ready to accept that reasoning- or if it’s what you’re even looking for- but it’s nice to hear something different than what your mind is telling you.

“I know losing a friend is hard,” he continues, not looking away from the flower wall in front of you two, “but by the time you are out of this hotel, you’re going to realize that it has nothing to do with your personality. I know this is only the second day we’ve spent together, but I like being around you. I’ve had many people come through here, some good and some bad, and I can confidently say you’re part of the good group. I’m not just saying this because it’s my job, but I enjoy spending time with you y/n.”

After he finishes talking, you quickly wipe away the hot tears escaping from your eyes. You have a few people you know you romanticize in your mind. There was the boy from your sixth-grade math class who walked you to your next class, arm wrapped around your shoulders as you bawled your eyes out about another fight you had with your mom. There was also the girl you met at summer camp who was a complete stranger to you, yet took the time to walk you from the cafeteria to your cabin after you threw up from food poisoning. They’re both perfect examples of that romanticization.

Those had been random acts of kindness during times you thought you were alone. Each time, you remember being amazed there were people like this around you. People brave enough to help someone they didn’t know.

Once again, you feel your heart warm from the same type of kindness, and you find yourself struggling to comprehend how someone can be so nice.

Renjun takes a deep breath and looks over at you, breaking you from your thoughts. “Not that there’s any rush, but is there anything else that you wanted to tell me?”

You quickly shake your head, taking deep, shaky breaths to try and stop crying.

He nods his head, a shining smile breaking out across his face. “I don’t know about you, but I think the only thing that can make us feel better is ice cream. So how about, when you feel up to it, we go and get some?”

You nod your head, sniffling once. “Okay, just- just give me a second, and then I’ll be ready.”

“Again, there’s no rush. We move at your pace, however fast or slow that is.”

---

“Having trouble deciding?”

You glance at the stranger to your left before looking back at the assortment of teas. “I guess so.”

“Well this one,” the stranger says, pointing to one of the boxes of black tea, “is my personal favorite. If you’re in the mood for something without caffeine, this is the tea to go. If you want chai, we have milk in the fridge– which I suggest you use instead of water– with one packet of sugar, and you have yourself the best chai tea ever.”

You laugh softly, leaning against the counter. “Sounds like you know your stuff.”

He smiles, reaching for the black tea he pointed to. “Kim Doyoung is the name, tea is the game.”  

You snort, pushing off the counter and reaching for the chai tea. “Well Doyoung, I’m excited to try your recipe.”

“If you’re disappointed, you can file a complaint against me. You’ll find me on the Reconstruction floor,” he jokes, his back turned to you as he pours hot water from the water dispenser into his cup.  

“Noted. And since you’re a staff member, you aren’t going to kick me out if I use the stove and one of your pans to heat some milk, are you?”

“It’s the public kitchen, so you don’t have to worry about anyone kicking you out,” he chuckles, walking to one of the small tables and taking a seat. “As long as you wash the pot out, we don’t care what you do.”

“Good to know.”

Walking over to the refrigerator, you sigh softly as you pull open the door.

It’s been a long day.

Grabbing the milk from off the side rack, you use your foot to hold open the door as you pour some milk into your cup. Once you’re finished, you screw the lid back on and move to put the milk back.

“Oh, you can keep it out. I forgot I was going to add some to mine.” He smiles as he pushes himself up from the table. “I don’t even know why I sat down.”

You chuckle. “I feel that.”

Squatting down to open one of the cupboards to look for a pot, you wince slightly at the sound of pots hitting each other as you move the pots to get to the smallest one. “Not to sound mean, but shouldn’t you be helping someone?”

“I could say the same thing about you, I mean, you’re down here all by yourself. Do I need to get someone fired? ”

You place the pot on the stove and pour in the milk from your cup. “Fair point. But luckily for you, you don’t have to fire anyone. I practically had to chase him away so I could have a moment by myself.”

He chuckles, pouring some milk into his tea. “May I ask who you have?”

“Renjun.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Renjun,” he chuckles, pulling open the fridge to put away the milk. Turning around, he leans against the counter, picking up his cup to take a drink. “You got lucky with him, he’s my second favorite of the younger staff.”

You snort, tearing a sugar packet and pouring it into the milk. “Who’s first?”

“Jeno. He works on the floor above Renjun’s.”

“Well, if I get the opportunity to work with him I’ll be sure to tell him he has to live up to the expectations set by tea king Kim Doyoung.”

“Please do, it’s been a while since I’ve told him I’m proud of him.”  

You smile, turning off the heat and moving the pot to a different burner.

“I just realized,” he says, pulling you from your thoughts. “I never asked for your name.”

“Oh, I’m y/n.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you y/n. It’s nice to have someone to share my tea knowledge with.”

“Are you telling me that in a hotel of 23 men, there is no one else who likes tea?” you ask sarcastically, pouring the milk into your cup and dropping the teabag in.

“There are, they just don’t like to listen to me. They tell me I’m too bossy.”

You let out a loud laugh, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. You look over to him, and he simply nods his head, a knowing look spread across his face.

You clear your throat, turning your attention back to your tea, stifling laughter as you pour a sugar packet in. “That sounds sad, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, they don’t know what they’re missing.”

You nod your head, tossing the packet into the trash and moving the pan to the sink to wash it. “That’s a good attitude to have, stay strong.”

“I’m as good at being petty as I am at anything else.”

You snort, squirting some soap onto the sponge to wash the pot. “Are you open to some feedback?”

“Go for it.”

“Okay, well for one, I don’t think that’s a good thing. And two, I don’t think that’s a saying.”

“All valid points,” he starts, and you hear the clink of what you assume is him putting his cup on the counter, “but let me tell you why they aren’t actually valid. Petty is how I’ve made my way in this hotel. Ten is something else, and I may have picked up a few things from him. Secondly, I don’t know what’s a saying and what isn’t, so that has no effect on me.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“It does.”

You chuckle, turning off the water, and placing the pan on the drying rack. “Well, I can say you’ll have no trouble staying strong.”

He dips his head in a thank you, and you laugh softly. Drying your hands on the towel hanging on the oven handle, you turn around to grab your cup.

“Well, I’m going to go up now, I have books to read and TV to watch. Thank you for the tea recommendation, I’ll be sure to try the other ones you pointed out.” You nervously pat the side of your cup twice, letting your eyes wander around the room before looking back at him. “This might be kinda weird considering this is our first time meeting, but thank you for having this conversation. It was nice to talk to someone who isn’t involved in my life. That, and you made today slightly less awful.”

He smiles, and you’re finally struck by how beautiful it is.

Renjun’s smile always struck you as a warm, comforting one. It fit perfectly for the floor he worked on. Doyoung’s, however, is different. While he still radiates comfort, his smile is more of a hopeful one. The kind that brightens even the worst days.

“I’m glad I could help. It was lovely talking with you y/n, and I hope I get to work with you when you reach my floor. It would be nice to see you again.”

You smile, rubbing your finger against the side of the cup. “Yeah, it would be nice to work with you. Maybe have a tea party where we talk about our feelings and my journey here.”

He laughs, walking up to you and tapping his cup lightly against yours. “I look forward to it.”

---

“I brought strawberries,” Renjun sings, opening the door.

You smile softly, pausing the show you were watching and patting the spot in front of you on the bed. “What’s with you and randomly showing up with food?”

He shrugs, placing one hand on the wall to balance himself as he uses his feet to take his shoes off. “I think spontaneous food is good for healing the soul. Trust me, I’m an expert.”

“Expert,” you repeat, laughing at his choice of words.

“Speaking of experts,” he says, taking a seat in front of you and placing the container of strawberries between you two, " I heard from Doyoung-Hyung that you two talked. How was that?"

"Well, for starters, he said Jeno was his favorite."

He snorts, picking up a strawberry. "That's nothing new."

"Isn’t Doyoung one of the members you said you don’t know very well?” you ask, taking a bite of the strawberry in your hand.

He nods his head, covering his mouth with his hand as he finishes chewing. “All the younger staff have an older member they’re particularly close with, and then the rest range from comfortable to the most awkward situation you could ever be in. Funny considering we have those parties when a client leaves, so you think we’d all be close by now. Anyway, me and Doyoung-Hyung are somewhere in the middle of that scale.”

“You guys really are like a family.”

He nods his head, placing another stem into the bowl he brought with him. “How’d you sleep last night?”

You smile softly, picking up a strawberry so you would have something for your hands to play with. “If you’re talking about if I thought about her or not, I did. I know it was earlier in the day, but I even almost texted her. That’s why I texted you asking if I could use the kitchen, I wanted something to distract me.”

“How do those memories make you feel?”

“Sad.” You laugh humorlessly, running your finger over the leaf. “I have photos on my phone from when we permed her hair. Most of those photos are of her, but the ones I’m in, you can see I’m laughing. It was such a fun day, we laughed so much. I thought I was getting better about the whole situation, but then I saw those photos, and I realized I’m still stuck in that time. And like I said before we talked in the garden, I can’t stop feeling sorry for myself now that I’ve vocalized the connection I feel between her and my mom. I normally have pretty good self views, but once I get an idea like this in my head, it’s so hard to get it out.”

“My first piece of advice is to be more gentle with yourself. Remember, today is your second day of sitting with those feelings. I think to start moving on from this stage, you have to be in tune with what you’re feeling. If you aren’t aware of what it is that’s hurting you, it will come back to you later. As much as I like being with you, I don’t want to see you here again.”

You smile softly, taking a small bite of the strawberry to try and distract yourself from the tears pricking at your eyes. “Thanks, Renjun.”

“My second piece of advice,” he says, tapping your knee to bring your attention up to him, “don’t hide from the memories. Even if you can’t go back to that day, doesn’t mean you don’t have to ignore those memories completely. I know it isn’t the same, but I have a photo from my friend’s birthday party from like five years ago back in China. It’s of me, my friend, and some guy he was friends with at the time. Turns out, the guy wasn’t very nice and they had this whole drama thing.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Back to the point, they’re not friends anymore. And when that happened, my friend had been so sad. He deleted every photo of the two of them and cropped him out of any group photos he could. But I still have my photo of the three of us. Even though I look at him and am reminded of all the stuff he put one of my best friends through, I still smile when I pass it by in my camera roll. Because that day was filled with great memories between me and my friend.

“Now, in your case, you can still look at those photos and remember how happy you were that day. They don’t have to serve as a ‘look at this moment I can never go back to.’ Instead, look at them as ‘look at this moment, I was so happy this day.’ You know, it’s kind of like childhood. We have these photos from when we were younger. At birthday parties and whatnot. It’s sad growing up, sometimes we want to go back. But we know we can’t, so instead we look at photos to remember the joys of our youth. This can just be part of your youth.”

“I’ve been telling myself that this entire time.” You place the barely eaten strawberry into the stem bowl. “So I can see the end of the road, but my problem is I don’t know how to get there.”

He nods his head, pushing the strawberries off to the side. “Well, I can tell you right now that’s normally the opposite problem I have to deal with.”

You chuckle, nodding your head. “I’m a special one, aren’t I?”

“No,” he laughs. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’ve felt that myself a few times, as well as a few clients that dealt with the same issue. All I have to say to you is to just know that there’s an achievable end. You know there’s an end but it seems unattainable. So just know, it is achievable.”

“So I just have to wait?”

You knew what the answer was before you asked the question. You hated how powerless it made you feel, knowing it would get better but not knowing when.

You know you’re lucky in the sense that you know it will get better. Call it the control freak inside you that couldn’t stand not knowing when.

“Let me tell you why I chose to work on this floor,” he says, ignoring your question. “I chose this floor because while it can be hard seeing people go through this, it’s the easiest stage to work with someone on. I get paid to listen, share my two cents, and, if needed, tell a story of mine. For the most part though, I get paid to eat and hang out with people as friends. I’m not here to solve people’s problems, I’m here to listen. I can’t make you reach the end, but I can accompany you on the journey there.”

“Thank you.”

You know the response isn’t exactly the correct thing to say, but you feel so thankful to him in this moment. Hearing him say he wasn’t trying to push you ahead blindly felt so relieving. You never realized how suffocating the constant feeling of needing to get better was.

“You’re welcome.”

---

You: Are you up?

Renjun: Of course I’m up it’s only 9

You: I don’t know you could be one of those early sleepers

You: Anyways I have something I wanted to ask you

Renjun: Go ahead

You: Okay

You: So I know we had this conversation two days ago but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and you’re right.

You: I don’t want to hide from those memories anymore so I was wondering if I could send you some photos of me and her? I don’t know why but I just feel more comfortable doing this over text

You: Is that okay?

Renjun: Go for it. I’m ready to see into your past

Renjun: (◎_◎)

You: First of all that’s kinda creepy

Renjun: No it isn’t

You: Second of all thank you for letting me do this

You: Let’s get started down memory lane shall we?

You: First up we have her carrying Kyle on her back

You: {image}

Renjun: Is Kyle the bear on her back?

You: Yep! You: Kyle is a five-foot-five stuffed bear she got me for Christmas

You: He’s still sitting in my room

Renjun: He’s beautiful

Renjun: Also kind of an oddly specific height

You: Not the point here

You: Moving on!

You: {image}

You: This is just a nice photo of the two of us. This was taken when we went to the beach for her birthday. She dropped her piece of cake into the sand

Renjun: That is one of the saddest things that could happen to a person

You: I agree

You: When it was dropped she just stared at it for a few seconds before sighing deeply and turning around to get more. One of the funniest things I have ever seen

Renjun: That reminds me of last year on Donghyuck’s birthday

Renjun: So we bought him this cake and had a celebration for him outside on this picnic table we used to have. We had it at like ten at night so we weren’t disturbing the guests. At the time we were still letting the staff bring their dogs into work from time to time and Lucas had brought Bella in that day

Renjun: Long story short we set the cake on the table after he had blown out the candles and Ten-Hyung had run inside to get plates and everything. Being the stubborn man he is he had refused to ask for help and ended up dropping the box of silverware and most of the plates

Renjun: Those of us who weren’t helping him pick it up were just watching. And if you told me 23 people would get distracted over a bunch of spilled forks and plates I don’t know if I would have believed you. Now comes the fun part

Renjun: Eventually we hear Shotaro yell “Bella no!” She had managed to climb on top of the table and take a bite out of the middle of the cake

You: Oh my god no

Renjun: I know right! The look on Hyuck’s face is something I’ll remember for a long time. We ended up running to a near by store and buying him this small one in replacement

You: Forget her, that is the saddest thing that could happen to a person on their birthday. At least she was able to get more

Renjun: Eh he’s fine. He got his cake

Renjun: Bring on the next photo

You: Right

You: Next we have this one. And she would kill me if she knew I was showing you this but oh well

You: She isn’t here to stop me

You: {image}

Renjun: What even is that?

You: I wish I could give you a straight anser

You: Answer

You: But the best I got is that she found a random towel and stuck it on her head. Next she wrapped this weird bead necklace that me or my brother must have made when we were like five around the towel. Then for some reason she made an ugly face

Renjun: Well that sounds like it would have been a fun night

You: I honestly don’t remember. I just know it was at mom’s house and I was thankful to have her there

You: You know I think that’s why when she left it hurt so bad. She was the first person I was okay with letting into my life and seeing the hardships I had concerning my mom.  She would always be there when I was worried I was acting too much like my mom or when my brother was being too much for me to handle (he can be like her sometimes too)

You: And before you say anything

You: I’ve listened to what you said the past few days and I know how to look at it in a good way. Instead of thinking about how I don’t have this person to give me comfort, I can think of it as ‘I may not have this person anymore but the things she said helped me then and they can help me now.’

Renjun: That’s good y/n that’s a really good step

You: What can I say I learn from the best

You: Now the next photo isn’t of her but I miss my cat so here you go

---

“I think you’re ready to move on.”

“Hello to you too,” you respond, pushing yourself off the bed and walking to stand in front of him by the door.

“You should know by now that a knock on the door is the only greeting I give. But seriously, I think at this point an Upward Turn staff member would be able to help you more than I can.”

“I-” you stutter, unsure what to say. “Do you mean right now?”

“No, silly,” he laughs. “Well, not at this moment anyway. It’s ten right now, so I would input you as ready to be transferred, you would get your staff member and new room, you’d pack up your suitcase, and then we move you up into your room. We can only move you once you’re processed as a transfer, and that takes at least an hour to be complete.”

He walks over to the table you guys sat at during your first meeting and pulled out the chair.  “I’ll input you as a transfer now, and then we can go do something.”

You take the seat opposite him, still surprised you were moving up a floor. He pulls out his phone, and without looking up from it asks, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Um no, I haven’t.”

“Awesome, then when I’m done with this, how about we go and get some breakfast?”

“Sounds good.”

“One last thing, do you not trust me?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

He looks up from his phone at you, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘Really?’

“About moving on,” he clarifies, looking back down at his phone. “Do you not trust me?”

“No, of course, I trust you.”

“But?”

“But I just feel like it’s too soon, I don’t feel ready,” you mumble, for some reason feeling stupid for having your doubts.

He smiles kindly, pressing one more thing on his phone before placing it on the table. “Be honest, what more can I do for you? We’ve talked about what you were feeling, I let you have your two days of sadness before starting to slowly change those thoughts, and now, you’re at a point where you’re changing your way of thinking without me having to tell you to. Transforming that into something useful is much more suited for someone who works on The Upward Turn floor, don’t you think?”

You nod your head, shifting in your seat. “I just don’t feel completely ready yet. What if- I don’t know- what if I mess up somehow and I make it hard on him. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable with my not-ready-for-the-upward-turn-step?”

“You worry too much. But if it makes you better, let me just say that when we went through training for our floors, the staff on this floor had to receive training in the floor above us and vice versa. So if you feel you’re not completely ready, he can help you get the rest of the way there. You don’t need to worry, I’m sure you’re ready for what’ll happen up there.”

“Thanks, Renjun, that means a lot to me.” You smile at him as you lean back in your chair. “So you received training?”

He chuckles, mirroring your posture. “I wouldn’t exactly call it training so to say, more like lets all talk with people on our floor and compare ideas. For the most part, only staff on the same floor worked together, but this floor worked a little with the Upward Turn and Anger floors. We thought in order to help someone through these steps it was important to understand the steps before in case we needed to backtrack a little."

“For not having any real training, I’d say you’re all pretty good at your job.’

“Excuse you, I’m great at my job.”

---

“You ready to go?” Renjun asks, pushing the door open and leaning against the frame.

You sigh softly, nodding your head. You had never cared about leaving the rooms before, you had been too tired to care that you were leaving. But this room felt special.

Grabbing your suitcase, you walk towards him, stopping right before the door frame to look over your shoulder at the room. “Is it weird if I say I’m going to miss this room?”

“Not at all, I can imagine it’s going to be weird not seeing my handsome face every day.”

You snort, turning to face him. “Your face is the last thing I’m going to miss.”

“Ouch,” he laughs, pushing himself off the wall.

You close the door behind you, smiling softly at the playfulness between you two. Definitely going to miss this.

“So who’d you get paired with?” he asks as you walk side by side to the elevators.

“Taeil.”

He hums, nodding his head. “He’s nice. He’s kinda shy at first, but don’t let that scare you.”

“Noted,” you say, pressing the up button.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t going to miss him. Granted, you probably would have felt this way about anyone who helped you at this stage of your heartbreak, but you can’t help the gratitude you feel towards him.

“Thank you again,” you say as you step into the elevator.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You don’t need to thank me, this is my job.”

The elevator dings open, and you both walk silently to your assigned room. After struggling to open the door the first time, you push the door open to the new room.

You nod your head, looking around the new room. Every room looked pretty much the same with simple layout changes.For the first time since you got here you appreciate the familiarity.

“I know, you said I don’t have to thank you,” you say, turning to face him. “But I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I have this habit where I tend to, for lack of a better word, idolize people who help me. Since this whole thing happened, I decided I should tell people when they do something for me that I appreciate. So I really appreciate the support you’ve given me throughout this. It means the world.”

He smiles brightly and your heart hurts a little as you realize this is one of the last times you’ll see his smile. Throughout the days you’ve spent with him, you failed to realize how beautiful his smile is. You were too busy dealing with everything happening inside you, you never stopped to appreciate how much he smiled.

The world needs more people like Renjun.

“I’m glad I could help you y/n, you were a pleasure to work with. And there’s no need to idolize me, I’m just doing a good job so I can continue to buy food using the company card.”

You laugh, looking down at your hands. “That’s a fair point, I can’t say I would do any different.”

“I’m glad you could see things my way.” He nods his head, letting a second of silence pass between you two before he points his thumb behind him towards the door. “Well, I’m going to get going, okay? I’ll see you at check out.”

You nod your head, whispering a ‘bye,’ as he turns and walks towards the door.

It feels weird knowing you’ll hold him in your memory as this great guy and he’ll only remember you as a client. I guess in some ways he is my idol.

“Hey, Renjun?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever pass me on the street or something, promise me you’ll say hi?”

He smiles brightly at you. “Of course, y/n. I’ll see you at the gathering with all your other employees before you go, okay?”

You nod your head, waving a final goodbye to Renjun. With one last smile, he’s gone. Breathing in deeply, you turn to look at your new room. Letting out your breath, you smile to yourself as you realize the feelings of numbness aren’t as strong as before.

After dreaming for so long, let’s start anew.

---

Thank you to @pastelsicheng (who I appreciate so much for the detailed revisions and having a lovely tea conversation with), @jenoremii, and @0606-hyuck for proofreading this for me!

I had so much fun writing this and I would love to know what you guys thought of it. Thank you so much for reading and have a wonderful day/night!

Masterlist 

#neohbh #nct-writers #huang renjun x reader #gender neutral reader #nct renjun #huang renjun #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kim doyoung #nct doyoung #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

[nct-writers]

(Event announced earlier for participants to be able to have more time to write their piece.)

Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel!

Where you can be treated for whatever wounds your poor heart has tolerated. Heartbreak Hotel has 23 employees, all of whom will be wholeheartedly devoted to healing your heart, after which you shall be asked to leave. 

For the month of March NCT-WRITERS presents, 'Heartbreak Hotel,' which shall follow the theme of 'Heartbreak,' 'hotel,' and coordinating it with a song from the provided playlist. Your story should be based around this mysterious hotel and it's 23 employees!

Heartbreak Hotel not only offers never-seen-before deals and techniques, it also has special floors to regulate the healing of your heart! The hotel floors are coordinated by the stages of heartbreak and must be followed accordingly. 

Every member shall be assigned to a particular floor and should have a chosen song from our special curated playlist, and your work must revolve around that.

This event follows the rule of 'First come first serve', so there will only be 23 writers in total. HEARTBREAK HOTEL is also member exclusive, so if you aren't a member yet, apply now!

The event will take place from March 9th to 31st, and like our previous event, each one of these 23 days will have a scheduled NCT member assigned to it. The writer for a particular member will post their story on the set dates. For example, if you chose Hendery as your chosen member, and his CHECK OUT FROM THE HOTEL is on March 9, you will have to post your work on March 9.

IF YOU WISH TO CHECK IN TO HEARTBREAK HOTEL, 

You can book through receptionist B ( @alreadyblondenow ) with the format, ‘Hello Receptionist B, I would like to book ROOM *insert chosen room number here*. Please play *insert chosen song from the playlist here* on the day of my check in.'

Then you will receive a confirmation message from her in a few minutes. 

– Send an ask, or message receptionist B to join. – If you're not a member yet and would like to join, apply now!  

WHAT SHOULD I WRITE?

Drabbles, timestamps, oneshots are allowed. However, all works should have a minimum of 500 words.   

All genres are allowed, even smut. However smut is only allowed if you’re legal of age. And strictly no suggestive nor smut for Jisung.

Please see to it that your work is in accordance with the theme, and based on the song you've chosen. 

Please be sure that you are okay with writing ‘angst’ or such topic under heartbreak or grief.

GENTLE REMINDERS

Please make sure you can make it before reserving a member.  

Reblog this post if you are joining!  

For other questions, you can send an ask to the network, or send a message to our admin Sofi ( @donghyukcore ) or event organizers, B ( @alreadyblondenow ) and Mona ( @prettyjaems​ ).

We will be tracking #neohbh and #nct-writers.

Join us now to heal your broken hearts! We look forward to your works!

Event planned by Admin B and Admin Mona  Graphics by Admin B Approved by Admin Sofi 

#nct-writers #events