Fanfic: Ephemeral Reverie
Ephemeral Reverie
Sungmin-centric, implied!Haemin
PG13, dark!drama
2965 words
The potential for dreams is paid by the potential for nightmares. Unfortunately, getting lost is much easier in the latter.
Dreams were a figment of reality
Sungmin read that in an article once, written by a famous professor in a prestigious university in the Americas. He asked Kibum about it a few times, and it served as a topic of discussion between the two of them. Sungmin heard from Kangin who heard from Heechul that Kibum was mildly hesitant to approach Sungmin, and they couldn’t have that happen because they were going to debut together soon.
//
It wasn’t a bad thing; Sungmin was glad he’s been having dreams; most of them have been nice and warm, revisits of the past and jumps into the future. God forbid anyone finds out, but he even dreamt about his crush, spending hours after hours, just the two of them, doing what normal couples could go through in their daily lives. Kangin joked that he was finally capable of thinking and Sungmin punched him on the arm.
“Was it clouds made out of cotton candy again?” Kangin teased, “Oh, oh or was it chocolate birds flying in the air this time, tell us, Sungmin.”
“They left already,” Sungmin shot back without a glance and Kangin was out the door, shouting curses and hollow threats.
“Hyung, I wish I could have dreams like you,” Ryeowook whispered to him softly one night after dinner. They were doing dishes because everyone else was so keen on going out to drink. “I just fall asleep and then I wake up, all the time…”
“You’re just tired, Ryeowook,” Sungmin just smiled softly, wiping the dishes with a cloth before putting them back up into the cabinet, “maybe you’ll have a good dream tonight. Do you want to call Siwon to come over for a movie?”
//
Exhaustion was a definite side effect of their career. Unstable, and sometimes spontaneous, working hours that stride between dawn and dusk, it was something they’re all having difficulty with. Sungmin sat quietly at the back of their van, eyes closed as he tried to remember what exactly happened.
He was walking, like every other dream, and it was dark, deserted, abandoned, there was nothing around him.
Sungmin thought harder, brows creased, he had to think, he needed to know what was going on inside his head. If the article had been correct, that dreams were loosely related with reality, why had his dreams been so different?
There was nothing, nothing but the darkness, the cold eerie wind that howled, rattling frozen metal. The air smelt salty, thick and pungent.
He had to keep thinking, the broken pieces refusing to mould together. His eyes snapped open when Donghae nudged him softly, pulling him up because they’re home already. They were all tired, walking like death warmed over as they stumbled into their respective rooms. Sungmin turned around when he heard a faint growl, Jungsu walked into the wall by accident.
“Minnie, sleep well,” Donghae muttered before he fell onto his bed.
“Night, Hae.”
//
Sungmin followed the light, arms outstretched in case he walked into something. It was cliché, perhaps more so given the fact that it was in his dream, following a faint light in the distance to guide him in the darkness. Couldn’t he have been following a rainbow, or the moon.
At least it wasn’t a rabbit.
It came and went, the illumination, periodically appearing for a few seconds and then disappearing. Continuously, the light flashed on and off, as if someone had been controlling it. The light came closer to view and Sungmin looked up, suddenly winced at the sudden flare, hot and blinding and his retinas barely registered the brightness…
“Minnie, yah Sungmin, wake up, we’re late,” Donghae bubbled as he held the flashlight sleepily, flicking it on and off, the sphere of unfocused light aimed near his eyes.
//
Sungmin reached up, fingertips prickling when it made contact with the broken gold frame. It was slanted, the only one in the entire row to tilt down, breaking the order. Blood oozed out of the cut, dark and scarlet. Sungmin didn’t mind the pain, it was sharp and numb at the same time, it brought forth a sense of reality, something that never happened inside his dreams. Each droplet crystallized as it fell to the ground, mixing ruby with auburn. The pain ebbed away, coming and going like waves on the beach, and each time the familiar sensation struck his senses again.
//
“Sungmin-sshi, can you do something cute for our viewers?” The MC asked politely, waving a hand in the direction of the camera. Sungmin nodded, eyes tucked low in preparation for another act of cuteness that made some of the other members groan in disgust.
Eunhyuk and Kangin winced in particular when Sungmin wailed about being hungry at the camera, half of the audience cooing and squealing in retaliation. Siwon fondly clung onto his arm, laughing loudly, while Donghae looked mildly annoyed. Two of the hosts, women in their early thirties, squirmed on the chair, talking frantically into the microphone about how cute he was.
//
“You appeared in my dream last night,” Sungmin whispered over breakfast the next morning. The porridge didn’t look appealing, the thick substance seeming to never end as Sungmin wedged his spoon into the concoction. Donghae looked up, eyes wide with a tint of hopefulness. Sungmin never understood the twinkle in his eyes, the glimmer hinting so much and representing even more.
“Yeah, I don’t know…” Sungmin pushed his bowl away,
//
The spiral seemed to never end, the metal stair case striding in the center of the building, it’s only source of structural support. Sungmin rested a hand against the interior wall, pearl white metal deathly cold against his hand. Donghae wasn’t there anymore, his breathy voice still ringing inside the hollow lighthouse.
He had to find Hae, he was just here a while ago, why did he just disappear like that.
The salt crusted exterior seared against the back of his hand. The pain felt physical, horrifically real when grains of stone remained wedged against his skin. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear Donghae’s voice echoing in the distance. It sounded like a plea, a request of some sort. The echoing got louder and Sungmin clawed the wall, Donghae was whimpering, as if he was hurting, as if he was in pain.
//
“Sungmin-ah, you look really tired lately,” Hankyung asked him on the way to lunch, “have you been resting enough?”
“Yeah, hyung, I’m fine, I just had a bad night,” Sungmin quickly deflected the accusation. Donghae suddenly fell on his lap when their van took a sharp turn, the unconscious boy fidgeting to find a more comfortable position while being strapped in his seat.
“Maybe you should talk to someone about it, it’s not good for you to keep it all inside,” Hankyung murmurs softly instead when someone in front of them wheezed in annoyance. “You can’t keep on having little sleep.”
“I know…” Sungmin looked down at Donghae curled up in his lap.
//
Since when were there doors? Sungmin stepped forward, the ground obliviously dark and unforgiving. There were two doors, a bright golden one and another of dull metal. Both doors swung open when he got closer.
Bright one, pick the bright one, Sungmin told himself when his hands unconsciously reached for the rusty metal knob. The bright door began vanishing, and while Sungmin walked into the other door, he saw the back of himself trying to fix the frame again. The figure shot his hand back as if something burned, arms thrown back defensively. The lines were blurring, and all that he saw was a single red droplet.
He looked down, the cut on his finger there again, blood oozing out of the cut. The wound seemed deeper, the gash wider, the broken skin more prevalent to the world. The lighthouse was gone, but the staircase remained erect in its position, tall and gleaming in the middle of nowhere. The howling wind was gone, the salty air and crashing waves all vacant. He couldn’t hear Donghae anymore, not even the faintest trace of the echo resonating around him. Another drop of blood fell towards the rocks, droning down the crevices, and suddenly the staircase folded down into itself, the spiral sinking down towards the ground, carving an underground passage.
//
Sungmin never understood the resentment some of the other members had towards Henry. He was cute, charming, and talented, he had everything in the making to be successful, and yet he notices the cold shoulders that most of the other members give him. Sometimes, it makes him wonder whether he’s an outcast himself, especially since he’s the only one to take Henry under his wing.
//
The staircase spiraled back up suddenly, right before his eyes, the dull white steps seemingly nothing more than his imagination. Bits of sand and gravel shimmered to the ground as the metal settled into place, the particles dancing a final dance against the air. Each step down resonated inside the hollow cylinder, Sungmin found himself slipping quite a few times, not only the steps but the handrails were slick, until he finally lost his balance, sliding down the flight of steps.
//
"He's going to be all right," Leeteuk choked out, voice stuttering and highly unconvincing, "we're all here for him, no matter what..."
Sungmin stared through the hospital window. The wires, all tangled like a web, and the machinery, and Kyuhyun had more white bandages on him than skin. One of his leg was hoisted up in a sling, dangling in mid air.
//
The staircase never seemed to end, flight after flight of white, different shades of white. Ivory white, faint silver, dirty pearl, an array of beiges. Each flight down, another three appeared near the bottom, the never ending spiral circulating deeper and deeper. It didn't seem that tall on the outside...
//
Thank goodness he didn’t have a schedule that morning as he lounged around lazily on his bed, twirling in his blanket. Donghae was still fast asleep, curled up in his own blanket, the sheets rising and slowly after each breath. Torn between hunger and sleep, Sungmin slinked to the kitchen, pausing momentarily to straighten one of the picture frames, and collapsed on the dining table. Coffee can wait. He didn't want to bother with making something to nibble on before Ryeowook got up to prepare another feast.
//
The frame was slanted to the point where it almost fell off the wall. It stuck out like a sore thumb. None of the other paintings were out of place, each frame perfectly perpendicular to one another. Sungmin reached for it, wanting to tug it back up back into position, before he stopped. Along the bottom edge was a fracture; the broken wood housed a tint of dark red. The frame, his hand, Sungmin looked down, the tip of his index finger secreting out blood once again, as if the wound had been opened recently.
The pain came back when the blood dribbled along the underside of his thumb, the liquid gathering at the tip of his fingernail before it dropped crisply to the floor. The collision made a single tinkle, the echo emphasized by the silence of the corridor, each drip consistently getting louder than the preceding, the chorus of echoes melding together. The sounds consistently got louder and louder, and Sungmin closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound because it was starting to hurt.
It was starting to hurt.
“Hyung, hyung, your hand is bleeding,” Sungmin woke up to a frantic Ryeowook hovering beside him. He unconsciously dozed off in the waiting room, and now more of his members gathered around him.
“Did you cut yourself without realizing?” Kangin asked worriedly as he brought a hand to brush Sungmin’s blonde locks, “come on, wash it first, you don’t want it infected.” Donghae somehow managed to bring back a bandage which Ryeowook took as Kangin pulled him to the bathroom.
//
The paintings were still there, he was still in that narrow corridor once more, or hallway, something, and that specific frame was slanted yet again.There was something different, and Sungmin almost wished he didn’t find out. The frames were housing emptiness, bitch black canvas, even the contours, let alone the colour, had been vacuumed out. Nothing remained except for darkness, the darkness that began moving on the wall, pouring and spilling over the tarnished frames, slinking down the wall. It was thick and unforgiving, the way it crept closer to him. Puddles of the lucid substance in the distance began agglomerating, gathering as it slid even faster down towards him. He heard the faint voice again, echoing from down the hallway, Donghae’s voice. His pleas were drifting away, dying against the overwhelming darkness.
He woke up later that night, panting and out of breath, the images still so vivid inside his mind that he swore he saw the shadows move erratically, mirroring his breathing. Sungmin winched when he realized he was clutching onto his blanket, blood seeping from the wound on his finger, staining the pale bandages a fainter shade of red.
//
"You're not listening to me, are you," Donghae whined, fingers clawing his hair in annoyance, "Minnie, are you okay lately, you seem really off, are you feeling okay?"
"Hae, I'm fine, really," Sungmin nodded halfheartedly, head tilted to the side, eyes vacant.
"So, they changed the choreography, now it's you and me dancing at the end, and we'll do that parallel line thing, Teukie and Hyukkie are on the other side, and then move to the edges," Donghae bubbled, using his hands as replicas of the two of them, "it's going to be so good."
"Yeah, it is, it sounds good,"
"Let's practice a bit later, I'm hungry, is there food in the kitchen? Come find food with me."
//
"Yah, Sungmin, let's go out and drink," Kangin swatted his shoulder, "my treat."
"It's okay, I don't want to drink tonight."
"Sungmin, let's go drink," Kangin repeated himself, voice harsh. It sounded more of a demand rather than a request.
"I said no, don't you ever listen to people. What’s wrong with you?"
Had it been anyone else, Kangin would have lost his temper, but everyone knew something’s wrong with Sungmin lately. Kangin stood silently, squeezing his hands tightly on Sungmin's shoulder, an affection that Sungmin always liked. They were different, but there's always a balance of serenity between the two of them.
"Kangin hyung, my head hurts," Sungmin shrugged away, turning to get up, "I'm going to go to bed."
//
“Hyung, why don’t you come to church with me today?” Siwon asked sincerely, “He listens to everyone’s problem, so you can confide with him if there’s something wrong.”
“I don’t think I can, Donghae asked me to help him out with the dance routine later.”
“Oh, okay, but if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me too, okay?”
“Thanks Siwon, I got to get going now.”
//
"Sungmin-ah," Hyukjae pulled him aside just before they were about to take the car out, "you have got to talk to me, something's wrong, I can tell, even if no one else realizes, I know there's something wrong."
"Hyukjae, I'm fine," Sungmin snapped, wincing in pain when Hyukjae tightened the grip, "you're hurting me, Hyuk-ah, stop."
“Why won’t you talk to me, or anyone else for that matter,” Hyukjae sounded like he was about to cry, “ever since Kangin left, you’ve been locking yourself up more and more, at least before you’d talk to him occasionally.”
Sungmin kept quiet.
“You don’t even talk with Ryeowookie or Shindong anymore. Donghae thinks you hate him now, do you even know what you’re doing to him?” Hyukjae practically screamed.
“Fine, I’ll go talk to them now if it makes you happy.”
"Hyung," Hyukjae looked at him with wide eyes, they made an agreement since they met to drop the honourifics, and rarely did Hyukjae call him that, "hyung, why won't you tell me what's wrong?"
"There's nothing wrong, seriously," Sungmin began losing his patience, "why is everyone telling me that something's wrong with me, do all of you want something to be wrong with me, is that better, maybe if I just get sick and then I won't have to bother you guys ever again."
Sungmin tore away from him, stomping past the car and off into the distance.
//
“Yah, Sungmin-ah, I need to talk to you,” Heechul pulled him away after dinner one night, “Kangin told me to look after you, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“T-thanks, Heechul hyung, I, I appreciate it. I never thought you cared.”
“Of course I care, you stupid idiot, I just don’t show it sometimes,” Heechul murmured softly, “but you have to show yourself occasionally, so you don’t get lost, do you get what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, hyung, I understand.”
“Good, I always knew you were a good kid, never had to worry about you until recently…”
//
There's nothing wrong, nothing to worry about, the dark hand caressed his cheeks, and Sungmin almost nuzzled against it.
Sungmin nodded, leaning against the staircase, head angled brokenly. Another picture frame began swaying in the distance until it fell down, succumbing to the faltering support as it joined countless others.
He looked forward, a trace of thought wondering what lies ahead, beyond the corridor of picture frames. He thought he heard a voice, the same voice still calling out for him fondly, weak and barely audible. The voice was definitely familiar, he’s known that voice for years now, the same voice with the gentle whispers and heartfelt laughter, the voice that couldn’t quite keep steady on stage…
Minnie…