Sleight of Heart (1/?)
Sleight of Heart (1/?)
Or, The Amazing Choikang and His Marvelous Acts of Transformation.
homin, pg-13
romance
3,819 words
During one of the most depressing times of his life, Yunho is encouraged to visit a mysterious circus sideshow act for answers and possibly, happiness. Things do not go as planned.
This, Yunho thinks, is the worst New Year’s ever.
It isn’t bad enough that his mother is ill and his family decided not to come out for the holidays. It isn’t bad enough that his boss is an asshole and scheduled him to work so he couldn’t go visit her. It isn’t bad enough that he has just been laid off from that job because the company’s filing for bankruptcy and he’s the newest, least experienced employee.
It is bad enough that he got drunk last night and now he has a hangover, a bruised rib, and a strange man in his bed.
Strange man is asleep and doesn’t seem like he’s going to move anytime. Yunho tried to prod him awake and only succeeded in making the man hug Yunho’s favorite pillow tighter.
Yeah, definitely the worst.
Resigning himself to the sad state of his life, he counts the bumps on his stucco ceiling and waits for the man to wake up.
Strange man is really handsome. Yunho congratulates himself on his good taste, if not his good judgment. Strange man is now sitting on the window seat, smoking a cigarette and blowing grey air out into a greyer rain. Yunho is making breakfast for the two of them. It is awkward.
He should have probably kicked the man out, but… well, it is New Year’s Day. He has the parade on the TV, but it’s on mute. Yunho doesn’t want to be alone, and Strange man seems in no hurry to leave.
“Are eggs okay… er-?”
“Jaejoong.”
“Eggs okay, Jaejoong?”
“Fine by me.” He doesn’t seem offended that Yunho couldn’t remember his name.
They eat in silence and it’s still awkward; Jaejoong taps ashes onto his plate and Yunho cringes but can’t bring himself to say anything. He wonders if the sex he can’t remember having was worth this.
“How are you feeling, Yunho?”
Yunho blinks in surprise. “Uh-”
“Last night, you weren’t doing so well. You told me you were having a horrible New Year’s Eve. We talked for hours.” He says it lightly, like he knows Yunho can’t remember that either, and just wants to remind him. “You said you were unhappy and that this was your worst holiday season ever. You told me that.”
“Oh…” Yunho cringes again. “I’m real sorry if-”
“Don’t apologize, I don’t mind.”
“But-”
“Do you still feel unhappy, Yunho?”
Something about Jaejoong makes him want to be honest. Maybe if it’s the way he talks, so gently blunt. Maybe it’s familiarity from last night, lingering in his subconscious. Or it could be that he’s completely unfamiliar, an absolute unknown. Yunho doesn’t know, but it’s too compelling to resist.
“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah I do.”
Jaejoong stands, walking his plate to the sink before picking up his bag. Yunho realizes that he is leaving. He stands, suddenly anxious, and it makes his ribs ache. He ignores it and runs a hand through his hair, trying to smile and just barely managing it.
But then Jaejoong smiles back at him. He smiles bright and wide, and in that moment it’s as if Yunho is seeing a whole new person, charming and relaxed and free.
“Here,” he says, offering Yunho a slip of paper. It’s a flyer of some kind, colored bright red with a pattern of deep scarlet stars. There’s a name in bold black font in the middle of the card, Choikang, and that means nothing to Yunho so he flips it over and finds on the other side a stylized picture of a red-and-yellow circus tent.
“The name of the guy on the back, he’s part of the circus. He’ll show you happiness, change your life. It’s amazing.”
Yunho is skeptical. “You think I should see some… circus psychic?”
Jaejoong shakes his head vehemently. “Not quite,” he says. “Just part of the circus. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”
He graces Yunho with another blinding smile, and then he is gone.
Yunho waits two days before going. It takes him that long to convince himself to follow this crazy advice -though, if he’s being honest with himself, he made the decision as soon as he saw the way Jaejoong smiled.
He knows the circus on the flyer; it’s set up on the fairgrounds just outside of town. It’s been in a town a month, popular enough to be crowded even on a weeknight. He walks up to the big tent and feels out of place: a lone, solemn guy compared to all the noisy, happy families. He hurries towards the front entrance.
There is a clown standing by the tent’s opening, jumping around and throwing paper confetti at young children, scaring and delighting them all at once.
“E-Excuse me?” he asks, when the clown’s attention isn’t on the children. It turns on him with a dopey smile and doesn’t speak, tilting it’s head in question. Yunho coughs, “I’m, uh, looking for Choikang?”
The clown’s expression changes abruptly, from being a happy man of whimsy to a curious man in heavy make-up. “Around back, to the left,” he says in a deep voice. “Past the Freak stalls. He’s in the red trailer.”
Yunho nods and leaves at once, making his way around the tent. He passes by stereotypic banners for acts like the bearded lady and three-legged boy and sword swallower and contortionist twins. The fairground is basically a giant lot of dead grass, and back here the cheer of the circus is lost under a sky heavy with clouds, not a patch of blue in sight.
It’s a weary scene, and the trailer stands out like a red stain, bright and bold and surrounded by an unkempt and overflowing garden. Yunho had expected a modern trailer or mobile home, but it’s actually more like an old-fashioned gypsy caravan.
There’re a few wooden steps leading up to the door which creak ominously when Yunho puts his weight on them. Yunho seriously wonders what the hell he’s doing here, but then the door opens. He is only on the second step.
“Yunho, right?” asks the man who opened the door for him. He’s tall and good-looking, and even though he can’t be any older than Yunho, Yunho is intimidated. This has got to be Choikang.
“…yes?”
“Come in,” Choikang says quickly, holding the door open and waving his arm dramatically. Yunho can’t tell if he’s serious or not.
“Did… Jaejoong tell you I was coming?” he asks as he steps in.
The man hums thoughtfully, “Jaejoong recommended you? Interesting.”
Inside the trailer is dark and… cushy, for lack of a better word. It’s full of overstuffed armchairs and couches which are covered with pillows of all shapes and sizes. His feet sink an inch into the thick and fuzzy-looking carpet. Yunho isn’t sure if it’s comfortable or slightly strange. But then again, he thinks, it is the circus.
“Take a seat,” Choikang says. “I’ll be with you in a second.” He walks into another room, pushing aside a tacky beaded curtain. Yunho stands for a long pause before slowly lowering himself into one of the chairs. It’s as comfortable as it looks, and the smell of incense makes his head feel heavy.
It’s five minutes before Choikang comes back in. Yunho starts to stand as soon as the he enters but Choikang waves him back down. “Not yet,” he says lightly and takes a seat across from him.
He leans back into the chair and crosses his legs, ankle over his knee, and it calls Yunho’s attention to how long his legs are. They are very long. He knows he is staring, but Choikang is staring right back at him, seemingly unfazed. Yunho wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.
When he can no longer take the silence, just as he opens his mouth to speak, Choikang beats him to it.
“So, Yunho, why are you here?”
“Well, Jaejoong said-”
“No, no. I can guess what Jaejoong said. I mean why are you here?”
“Well, I…” He bites his lip. He’s not quite sure how to explain why.
Choikang rolls his eyes, and the rudeness of it grates on Yunho. This guy was supposed to show Yunho happiness?
“I don’t know why. Is that going to be a problem, Choikang-sshi?”
Choikang blinks. “Oh, call me Changmin.”
Yunho blinks. “Uh, ok. Changmin.”
Changmin nods, “Thank you. I don’t really like the title, it’s something the company thought up for me, to make it seem like part of the act.” He drums her fingers on the arm of his chair, sharp but soundless against the plush fabric. Yunho’s eyes track the motion. He has really nice fingers. Also very long.
“Obviously you have a reason for coming,” the man goes on, unfazed. “Else you wouldn’t be here. Is it about your job? Your parents?”
Yunho flinches, but he knows that those are very generic questions, the sort of leading questions most psychics use to give the appearance of omniscience. Yunho isn’t buying it. “Yes,” he answers simply.
Changmin sighs in annoyance. “I’m not trying to con you, Yunho. I don’t need anything from you, but this will go easier if you give me a head start.”
“Head start on what?”.
He frowns. “Jaejoong didn’t tell you much, did he?”
“I thought you already knew,” Yunho fires back, but he all he gets is another eye-roll.
“Please. I’m not psychic.”
Yunho’s mouth opens once, twice. “Wait. You’re not?”
“Never advertised to be,” the man points out. “Actually, I don’t advertise anything. You came here of your own free will, didn’t you? That’s why everyone comes; be it curiosity, or out of desperation, a distraction, whatever. They come here looking for something, and that’s what I give.”
“…Happiness?” Yunho asks tentatively, not sure if that is the right answer any more.
Changmin grants him a raised eyebrow and a quirked smile. “That’s what a lot of people come for. It’s what Jaejoong found, and maybe it’ll be the same for you. Maybe not,” he shrugs.
Yunho runs a hand through his hair, a nervous motion that makes him realize that he is, in fact, nervous. He doesn’t know why.
“Alright, then… what do I have to do?”
“You can answer my question for a start. What’s bothering you? It is your job, isn’t it?”
Yunho feels self-conscious under Changmin’s scrutinizing gaze, and squirms. “That’s… part of it. I got laid off last week.”
“Right before New Years? That was a pretty shitty thing to do.”
“Tell me about it,” Yunho mutters.
He thinks he might have seen Changmin’s lips twitch, but he can’t be sure. He probably imagined it; the not-psychic has one hell of a poker-face. “Do you want the job back?” he asks.
“No,” Yunho answers immediately. “I hated it, my boss was an ass. My coworkers were all underhanded jerks. The work itself was boring as dirt.”
“What’s the rest?”
Yunho shrugs. “That’s really it…”
“I mean what else brought you here,” Changmin drawls, as if he’s reminding a wayward child.
Yunho swallows. This part he doesn’t want to talk about. “My-my mother’s ill,” he says shortly, wincing when his voice breaks.
Changmin drums his fingers again, eying him thoughtfully. He reaches some unknown conclusion, after a moment, and says “Anything else?”
Yunho shakes his head, just grateful that he didn’t press the issue. “Not really. Nothing I can say…”
“That’s enough,” he says, blithely cutting Yunho off. “That’s where we’ll begin.”
“Er-”
“Do you want to know what I really am, Yunho?”
Yunho’s eyes widen, and he nods solemnly. Changmin sits up a little straighter and laces his hands together, resting them atop his ankle. His head tips to the side and he shakes it slightly, throwing the hair out of his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs as he clears his throat. Yunho watches all these little movements, not even realizing how closely he’s watching until Changmin speaks and Yunho looks up to meet his eyes.
“I’m a crystalist,” Changmin says without ceremony. “I study and tend a series of crystals that have certain… properties. I also invented a device that uses the crystals in order reveal to a person what they need most. It’s been known to transform people entirely. If you wish, I can make this can happen for you.”
Yunho blinks, and tries to reign in his skepticism, tries to think of Jaejoong’s serene smile. He’s failing. That sure sounds like a con, he thinks.
“You can chose not to,” Changmin shrugs, as if doesn’t care either way, “I don’t care.” Well, that settles that. He’s far too indifferent, Yunho thinks, how does he ever get people to believe him, to go through with this?
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” he asks. “Why should I?”
Changmin looks annoyed, this time, though his answer is even-tempered. “You’re the one who came to me, if you remember. It’s not my job to convince you, or take this skeptical bullshit.”
“Hey-!”
“You should have spoken to Jaejoong before and not wasted my time. I’ve got better things to be doing, and people who actually want my help,” he says, and then shrugs again. “The device has already been prepared; all you have to do is follow me. Trust your heart or your gut or whatever you trust when you feel like it,” he stands up, tugging his shirt back into place. “I’ll give you five minutes. If you chose to see, step through the curtains. If you’d rather live the way you’ve been living… the door is right there.”
He walks calmly from the room, not glancing back. The curtains fall back down after him, swaying and clicking together. Yunho sits back in his seat, feeling sulky.
But the feeling doesn’t last long. He’d come to satisfy his curiosity, but also seeking the happiness Jaejoong had found. Ultimately, this Choikang guy is right. It’s a yes or no answer, to go on faith or not go at all. If it is a sham, Yunho can walk away. If not… well. They say seeing is believing for a reason, right?
When he passes through the beaded curtain, Yunho doesn’t know what to expect. He thinks there might be more plush and darkness; a room grand and mysterious enough to match the situation at hand. There might be candles, maybe even jars filled with unidentifiable floating objects. Crystal balls and the like.
He’s not sure why he’s surprised when he enters the bright room and finds it disappointingly plain.
The room is small. The walls are white and bare. On the wall across from Yunho is another door, covered by another beaded curtain, leading back into what looks like a small backroom kitchenette. There’s a table and three chairs in the middle of the room. The table is square, wooden, and covered with water-rings. Changmin is sitting in the chair farthest from Yunho, pushed back enough that he can cross his legs. He motions to one of the other chairs, but Yunho hesitates.
Changmin raises an eyebrow at Yunho. “You weren’t expecting this,” he says wryly. It’s not a question. “If it makes you feel better, I keep my more ‘exotic’ equipment in another room.”
For someone who says he’s not a psychic, he’s pretty good at acting like one, Yunho thinks. “Right, uh, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You do that too much.”
Yunho hunches his shoulders, frowning. The way Changmin talks to him makes him feel awkward and exposed. Out of sync. But then again that’s not an unusual feeling for Yunho.
“Take a seat,” Changmin demands.
Yunho takes a seat. As his eyes roam about the room, looking anywhere but Changmin, his eyes catch on the ceiling, which he realizes is painted black, decorated with white dots to match the constellations. He manages to find the handle of the Big Dipper just as Changmin clears his throat.
“Ready?” he asks. Yunho takes a second to answer and gets an impatient look for it.
“Yeah,” he says, looking down. He realizes for the first time the table is bare. “Where’s the- the device?”
Changmin reaches forward and puts his fingers to the middle of the tabletop, next to a line so fine Yunho hadn’t known it was there till Changmin brought his attention to it. Changmin presses down and some unknown latch is released, the two sides popping up slightly so he can open the table like it’s the top of a box.
It is a box, of sorts, for beneath the tabletop is a hollow space, and in that space lies this “device” he’s been hearing about.
It doesn’t look like much, Yunho thinks at first. It’s more machine than magic, like a car part that’s been pulled fresh out of the engine. It’s attached to all sorts of wires, which all in turn attach to a two large circuit board-like panels on each side of the opened tabletop
Yunho can see crystals threaded throughout the construction, most of them spherical if not completely smooth, ranging from the size of a child’s fist to no bigger than his thumbnail. They don’t seem to be doing anything, although the machine admits a faint hum.
But after a moment, Yunho realizes it’s not making a sound. The hum isn’t something he’s hearing with his ears, it’s… deeper. It makes the air rattle in his lungs.
“Huh,” he says, in bemused wonder.
Changmin gives him a dry look. “You flatter me.”
Yunho winces. “Sor- I mean, it’s, um, interesting? How does it work?” he adds, when Changmin keeps on giving him the eye.
He brushes off Yunho’s question with a sharp, “Not your concern,” and Yunho frowns. He’s thoroughly exasperating, Yunho thinks. “Put your hands on the sideboards,” Changmin goes on, leaning forward. “Anywhere you like, just don’t touch the wires -yes, that’s fine. Don’t move.”
And then he stands and goes into his backroom. He returns seconds later carrying what looks like a large glass bowl, but after a second Yunho realizes it is a large crystal ball that’s been cut cleanly in half. The rounded surface is smooth, frosted glass, while the flat edge has been polished to shining.
“Don’t ask,” Changmin shoots off, before Yunho can even open his mouth.
“I wasn’t-”
“Quiet, and listen,” he sets the half-crystal into a stand that allows it to hover over the device. He lifts his hands with a flourish and holds them far back from the device, as if to show that he’s not touching anything - that this isn’t some trick or sleight of hand.
“Look into the glass surface,” he says. “The device will do all the work: the conduit fields will pick up on your energy and try to match it with that of the crystals in the device. Just keep your focus on the glass and open your mind to whatever comes. Got it?”
“I… I think so.”
He looks at Yunho for a long moment, his gaze burning. “We’ll go for only a minute; you shouldn’t need more than that. Do you understand?”
“Er-”
“Excellent,” he says, and pulls an ornate watch on a silver chain out of his pants pocket. Yunho’s mind supplies the idea that it’s some antique circus heirloom -until Changmin begins to fiddle with it and he sees the face of the watch is actually digital. Only the back is gilded and carved to make it look old-fashioned. Tacky and ridiculous, Yunho thinks, as Changmin sets it to 00:01:00.
“Look at the crystal,” he reprimands lightly. “We begin now.”
So they return to waiting. Changmin leans back and crosses his arms -Yunho can see that even though he’s got his eyes focused on the crystal, because the glass is so smooth it looks like a mirror. It shows the reflection of the room as it is now, a pale view of himself overlaid with an inverted image of Changmin, sitting in the chair across from him, looking straight-faced as ever.
Sixty seconds might as well be sixty hours when all you can do is sit and stare with your eyes as wide as possible -and stare at nothing, at that. The hum of the device is still there, but otherwise nothing happens. Yunho continues to focus on the crystal ball, to the point that the rest of the world falls away and everything else goes dark. But it’s just for a fleeting moment, a mind-trick of tunnel vision, and it’s not like anything changes about the crystal - it’s just their boring, ordinary overlapping reflections.
He hears Changmin mutter something, but it’s too soft for it to be for Yunho’s ears, and a few interminable seconds later it finally ends, with the sharp beeping of the watch.
Yunho blinks rapidly, clearing water from his eyes. He doesn’t feel changed. He doesn’t feel happy. He wonders if there’s maybe another step to this that Changmin has yet to reveal.
He looks up, but finds Changmin sitting straight in his chair, staring with something that might be ferocity at the device.
“…Interesting,” he says, after a moment.
Yunho sits up straight as well. “Interesting?” he asks, apprehensive. “What does that mean? What happened?”
“Nothing happened. It didn’t work.”
Yunho feels his stomach drop. He feels like a fool for putting any hope in this at all. “It didn’t work?”
“Looks like it.” He thinks for a moment that Changmin looks flustered, a bit wild around the eyes, but once more it’s gone too quickly and his manner of bland asperity returns, more forceful than ever, and something about that makes Yunho angry. Angry that he’s been drawn into this farce, that he actually believed…
“This is ridiculous-”
“Sorry, but it’s not my fault,” Changmin says simply. “It’s never not worked before. The problem must obviously be you.”
Yunho’s jaw drops, but Changmin is already standing and brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “Also, company policy, but I don’t give refunds.”
“What? I haven’t even paid you!”
“Yes you did,” the man throws over his shoulder as he walks into his backroom. “Show yourself out, please!” he calls.
But Yunho can’t move, stunned into stillness. It takes him a minute -sixty seconds that don’t seem long at all, this time- to regain control of himself. He looks down at the device; Changmin took the half-crystal with him but the rest of the device is still splayed open like some geological robot corpse. He looks up and around the rest of the room, but it’s so bare there’s nothing else to focus on. He can hear Choikang moving around in the backroom, and he’s unsure what to do.
He looks back at the device. He curls his hands into fists on his knees and breathes in and out, ignoring that rattle-hum in his lungs, and counts wires for calm.
When he no longer feels the hum, he stands, and he shows himself out.
[tbc]
started writing: 12/19/09
finished writing: 6/27/12
master list
Circus!AU, woo! This was actually supposed to be part of my holiday series waaay back when (the reason why this starts off with New Year’s even though it’s almost July, haha), but sadly it didn’t make the cut. I’ve always liked it, though, so after brushing off the dust, here it is, a most auspicious beginning~
I'm still tinkering with the rest of the story, so I'm not sure how long it will be or even where exactly we'll end up, haha. I'll do my best to update quickly, but as always, comments make great food for motivation ;)
Or, The Amazing Choikang and His Marvelous Acts of Transformation.
homin, pg-13
romance
3,819 words
During one of the most depressing times of his life, Yunho is encouraged to visit a mysterious circus sideshow act for answers and possibly, happiness. Things do not go as planned.
This, Yunho thinks, is the worst New Year’s ever.
It isn’t bad enough that his mother is ill and his family decided not to come out for the holidays. It isn’t bad enough that his boss is an asshole and scheduled him to work so he couldn’t go visit her. It isn’t bad enough that he has just been laid off from that job because the company’s filing for bankruptcy and he’s the newest, least experienced employee.
It is bad enough that he got drunk last night and now he has a hangover, a bruised rib, and a strange man in his bed.
Strange man is asleep and doesn’t seem like he’s going to move anytime. Yunho tried to prod him awake and only succeeded in making the man hug Yunho’s favorite pillow tighter.
Yeah, definitely the worst.
Resigning himself to the sad state of his life, he counts the bumps on his stucco ceiling and waits for the man to wake up.
Strange man is really handsome. Yunho congratulates himself on his good taste, if not his good judgment. Strange man is now sitting on the window seat, smoking a cigarette and blowing grey air out into a greyer rain. Yunho is making breakfast for the two of them. It is awkward.
He should have probably kicked the man out, but… well, it is New Year’s Day. He has the parade on the TV, but it’s on mute. Yunho doesn’t want to be alone, and Strange man seems in no hurry to leave.
“Are eggs okay… er-?”
“Jaejoong.”
“Eggs okay, Jaejoong?”
“Fine by me.” He doesn’t seem offended that Yunho couldn’t remember his name.
They eat in silence and it’s still awkward; Jaejoong taps ashes onto his plate and Yunho cringes but can’t bring himself to say anything. He wonders if the sex he can’t remember having was worth this.
“How are you feeling, Yunho?”
Yunho blinks in surprise. “Uh-”
“Last night, you weren’t doing so well. You told me you were having a horrible New Year’s Eve. We talked for hours.” He says it lightly, like he knows Yunho can’t remember that either, and just wants to remind him. “You said you were unhappy and that this was your worst holiday season ever. You told me that.”
“Oh…” Yunho cringes again. “I’m real sorry if-”
“Don’t apologize, I don’t mind.”
“But-”
“Do you still feel unhappy, Yunho?”
Something about Jaejoong makes him want to be honest. Maybe if it’s the way he talks, so gently blunt. Maybe it’s familiarity from last night, lingering in his subconscious. Or it could be that he’s completely unfamiliar, an absolute unknown. Yunho doesn’t know, but it’s too compelling to resist.
“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah I do.”
Jaejoong stands, walking his plate to the sink before picking up his bag. Yunho realizes that he is leaving. He stands, suddenly anxious, and it makes his ribs ache. He ignores it and runs a hand through his hair, trying to smile and just barely managing it.
But then Jaejoong smiles back at him. He smiles bright and wide, and in that moment it’s as if Yunho is seeing a whole new person, charming and relaxed and free.
“Here,” he says, offering Yunho a slip of paper. It’s a flyer of some kind, colored bright red with a pattern of deep scarlet stars. There’s a name in bold black font in the middle of the card, Choikang, and that means nothing to Yunho so he flips it over and finds on the other side a stylized picture of a red-and-yellow circus tent.
“The name of the guy on the back, he’s part of the circus. He’ll show you happiness, change your life. It’s amazing.”
Yunho is skeptical. “You think I should see some… circus psychic?”
Jaejoong shakes his head vehemently. “Not quite,” he says. “Just part of the circus. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”
He graces Yunho with another blinding smile, and then he is gone.
Yunho waits two days before going. It takes him that long to convince himself to follow this crazy advice -though, if he’s being honest with himself, he made the decision as soon as he saw the way Jaejoong smiled.
He knows the circus on the flyer; it’s set up on the fairgrounds just outside of town. It’s been in a town a month, popular enough to be crowded even on a weeknight. He walks up to the big tent and feels out of place: a lone, solemn guy compared to all the noisy, happy families. He hurries towards the front entrance.
There is a clown standing by the tent’s opening, jumping around and throwing paper confetti at young children, scaring and delighting them all at once.
“E-Excuse me?” he asks, when the clown’s attention isn’t on the children. It turns on him with a dopey smile and doesn’t speak, tilting it’s head in question. Yunho coughs, “I’m, uh, looking for Choikang?”
The clown’s expression changes abruptly, from being a happy man of whimsy to a curious man in heavy make-up. “Around back, to the left,” he says in a deep voice. “Past the Freak stalls. He’s in the red trailer.”
Yunho nods and leaves at once, making his way around the tent. He passes by stereotypic banners for acts like the bearded lady and three-legged boy and sword swallower and contortionist twins. The fairground is basically a giant lot of dead grass, and back here the cheer of the circus is lost under a sky heavy with clouds, not a patch of blue in sight.
It’s a weary scene, and the trailer stands out like a red stain, bright and bold and surrounded by an unkempt and overflowing garden. Yunho had expected a modern trailer or mobile home, but it’s actually more like an old-fashioned gypsy caravan.
There’re a few wooden steps leading up to the door which creak ominously when Yunho puts his weight on them. Yunho seriously wonders what the hell he’s doing here, but then the door opens. He is only on the second step.
“Yunho, right?” asks the man who opened the door for him. He’s tall and good-looking, and even though he can’t be any older than Yunho, Yunho is intimidated. This has got to be Choikang.
“…yes?”
“Come in,” Choikang says quickly, holding the door open and waving his arm dramatically. Yunho can’t tell if he’s serious or not.
“Did… Jaejoong tell you I was coming?” he asks as he steps in.
The man hums thoughtfully, “Jaejoong recommended you? Interesting.”
Inside the trailer is dark and… cushy, for lack of a better word. It’s full of overstuffed armchairs and couches which are covered with pillows of all shapes and sizes. His feet sink an inch into the thick and fuzzy-looking carpet. Yunho isn’t sure if it’s comfortable or slightly strange. But then again, he thinks, it is the circus.
“Take a seat,” Choikang says. “I’ll be with you in a second.” He walks into another room, pushing aside a tacky beaded curtain. Yunho stands for a long pause before slowly lowering himself into one of the chairs. It’s as comfortable as it looks, and the smell of incense makes his head feel heavy.
It’s five minutes before Choikang comes back in. Yunho starts to stand as soon as the he enters but Choikang waves him back down. “Not yet,” he says lightly and takes a seat across from him.
He leans back into the chair and crosses his legs, ankle over his knee, and it calls Yunho’s attention to how long his legs are. They are very long. He knows he is staring, but Choikang is staring right back at him, seemingly unfazed. Yunho wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.
When he can no longer take the silence, just as he opens his mouth to speak, Choikang beats him to it.
“So, Yunho, why are you here?”
“Well, Jaejoong said-”
“No, no. I can guess what Jaejoong said. I mean why are you here?”
“Well, I…” He bites his lip. He’s not quite sure how to explain why.
Choikang rolls his eyes, and the rudeness of it grates on Yunho. This guy was supposed to show Yunho happiness?
“I don’t know why. Is that going to be a problem, Choikang-sshi?”
Choikang blinks. “Oh, call me Changmin.”
Yunho blinks. “Uh, ok. Changmin.”
Changmin nods, “Thank you. I don’t really like the title, it’s something the company thought up for me, to make it seem like part of the act.” He drums her fingers on the arm of his chair, sharp but soundless against the plush fabric. Yunho’s eyes track the motion. He has really nice fingers. Also very long.
“Obviously you have a reason for coming,” the man goes on, unfazed. “Else you wouldn’t be here. Is it about your job? Your parents?”
Yunho flinches, but he knows that those are very generic questions, the sort of leading questions most psychics use to give the appearance of omniscience. Yunho isn’t buying it. “Yes,” he answers simply.
Changmin sighs in annoyance. “I’m not trying to con you, Yunho. I don’t need anything from you, but this will go easier if you give me a head start.”
“Head start on what?”.
He frowns. “Jaejoong didn’t tell you much, did he?”
“I thought you already knew,” Yunho fires back, but he all he gets is another eye-roll.
“Please. I’m not psychic.”
Yunho’s mouth opens once, twice. “Wait. You’re not?”
“Never advertised to be,” the man points out. “Actually, I don’t advertise anything. You came here of your own free will, didn’t you? That’s why everyone comes; be it curiosity, or out of desperation, a distraction, whatever. They come here looking for something, and that’s what I give.”
“…Happiness?” Yunho asks tentatively, not sure if that is the right answer any more.
Changmin grants him a raised eyebrow and a quirked smile. “That’s what a lot of people come for. It’s what Jaejoong found, and maybe it’ll be the same for you. Maybe not,” he shrugs.
Yunho runs a hand through his hair, a nervous motion that makes him realize that he is, in fact, nervous. He doesn’t know why.
“Alright, then… what do I have to do?”
“You can answer my question for a start. What’s bothering you? It is your job, isn’t it?”
Yunho feels self-conscious under Changmin’s scrutinizing gaze, and squirms. “That’s… part of it. I got laid off last week.”
“Right before New Years? That was a pretty shitty thing to do.”
“Tell me about it,” Yunho mutters.
He thinks he might have seen Changmin’s lips twitch, but he can’t be sure. He probably imagined it; the not-psychic has one hell of a poker-face. “Do you want the job back?” he asks.
“No,” Yunho answers immediately. “I hated it, my boss was an ass. My coworkers were all underhanded jerks. The work itself was boring as dirt.”
“What’s the rest?”
Yunho shrugs. “That’s really it…”
“I mean what else brought you here,” Changmin drawls, as if he’s reminding a wayward child.
Yunho swallows. This part he doesn’t want to talk about. “My-my mother’s ill,” he says shortly, wincing when his voice breaks.
Changmin drums his fingers again, eying him thoughtfully. He reaches some unknown conclusion, after a moment, and says “Anything else?”
Yunho shakes his head, just grateful that he didn’t press the issue. “Not really. Nothing I can say…”
“That’s enough,” he says, blithely cutting Yunho off. “That’s where we’ll begin.”
“Er-”
“Do you want to know what I really am, Yunho?”
Yunho’s eyes widen, and he nods solemnly. Changmin sits up a little straighter and laces his hands together, resting them atop his ankle. His head tips to the side and he shakes it slightly, throwing the hair out of his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs as he clears his throat. Yunho watches all these little movements, not even realizing how closely he’s watching until Changmin speaks and Yunho looks up to meet his eyes.
“I’m a crystalist,” Changmin says without ceremony. “I study and tend a series of crystals that have certain… properties. I also invented a device that uses the crystals in order reveal to a person what they need most. It’s been known to transform people entirely. If you wish, I can make this can happen for you.”
Yunho blinks, and tries to reign in his skepticism, tries to think of Jaejoong’s serene smile. He’s failing. That sure sounds like a con, he thinks.
“You can chose not to,” Changmin shrugs, as if doesn’t care either way, “I don’t care.” Well, that settles that. He’s far too indifferent, Yunho thinks, how does he ever get people to believe him, to go through with this?
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” he asks. “Why should I?”
Changmin looks annoyed, this time, though his answer is even-tempered. “You’re the one who came to me, if you remember. It’s not my job to convince you, or take this skeptical bullshit.”
“Hey-!”
“You should have spoken to Jaejoong before and not wasted my time. I’ve got better things to be doing, and people who actually want my help,” he says, and then shrugs again. “The device has already been prepared; all you have to do is follow me. Trust your heart or your gut or whatever you trust when you feel like it,” he stands up, tugging his shirt back into place. “I’ll give you five minutes. If you chose to see, step through the curtains. If you’d rather live the way you’ve been living… the door is right there.”
He walks calmly from the room, not glancing back. The curtains fall back down after him, swaying and clicking together. Yunho sits back in his seat, feeling sulky.
But the feeling doesn’t last long. He’d come to satisfy his curiosity, but also seeking the happiness Jaejoong had found. Ultimately, this Choikang guy is right. It’s a yes or no answer, to go on faith or not go at all. If it is a sham, Yunho can walk away. If not… well. They say seeing is believing for a reason, right?
When he passes through the beaded curtain, Yunho doesn’t know what to expect. He thinks there might be more plush and darkness; a room grand and mysterious enough to match the situation at hand. There might be candles, maybe even jars filled with unidentifiable floating objects. Crystal balls and the like.
He’s not sure why he’s surprised when he enters the bright room and finds it disappointingly plain.
The room is small. The walls are white and bare. On the wall across from Yunho is another door, covered by another beaded curtain, leading back into what looks like a small backroom kitchenette. There’s a table and three chairs in the middle of the room. The table is square, wooden, and covered with water-rings. Changmin is sitting in the chair farthest from Yunho, pushed back enough that he can cross his legs. He motions to one of the other chairs, but Yunho hesitates.
Changmin raises an eyebrow at Yunho. “You weren’t expecting this,” he says wryly. It’s not a question. “If it makes you feel better, I keep my more ‘exotic’ equipment in another room.”
For someone who says he’s not a psychic, he’s pretty good at acting like one, Yunho thinks. “Right, uh, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You do that too much.”
Yunho hunches his shoulders, frowning. The way Changmin talks to him makes him feel awkward and exposed. Out of sync. But then again that’s not an unusual feeling for Yunho.
“Take a seat,” Changmin demands.
Yunho takes a seat. As his eyes roam about the room, looking anywhere but Changmin, his eyes catch on the ceiling, which he realizes is painted black, decorated with white dots to match the constellations. He manages to find the handle of the Big Dipper just as Changmin clears his throat.
“Ready?” he asks. Yunho takes a second to answer and gets an impatient look for it.
“Yeah,” he says, looking down. He realizes for the first time the table is bare. “Where’s the- the device?”
Changmin reaches forward and puts his fingers to the middle of the tabletop, next to a line so fine Yunho hadn’t known it was there till Changmin brought his attention to it. Changmin presses down and some unknown latch is released, the two sides popping up slightly so he can open the table like it’s the top of a box.
It is a box, of sorts, for beneath the tabletop is a hollow space, and in that space lies this “device” he’s been hearing about.
It doesn’t look like much, Yunho thinks at first. It’s more machine than magic, like a car part that’s been pulled fresh out of the engine. It’s attached to all sorts of wires, which all in turn attach to a two large circuit board-like panels on each side of the opened tabletop
Yunho can see crystals threaded throughout the construction, most of them spherical if not completely smooth, ranging from the size of a child’s fist to no bigger than his thumbnail. They don’t seem to be doing anything, although the machine admits a faint hum.
But after a moment, Yunho realizes it’s not making a sound. The hum isn’t something he’s hearing with his ears, it’s… deeper. It makes the air rattle in his lungs.
“Huh,” he says, in bemused wonder.
Changmin gives him a dry look. “You flatter me.”
Yunho winces. “Sor- I mean, it’s, um, interesting? How does it work?” he adds, when Changmin keeps on giving him the eye.
He brushes off Yunho’s question with a sharp, “Not your concern,” and Yunho frowns. He’s thoroughly exasperating, Yunho thinks. “Put your hands on the sideboards,” Changmin goes on, leaning forward. “Anywhere you like, just don’t touch the wires -yes, that’s fine. Don’t move.”
And then he stands and goes into his backroom. He returns seconds later carrying what looks like a large glass bowl, but after a second Yunho realizes it is a large crystal ball that’s been cut cleanly in half. The rounded surface is smooth, frosted glass, while the flat edge has been polished to shining.
“Don’t ask,” Changmin shoots off, before Yunho can even open his mouth.
“I wasn’t-”
“Quiet, and listen,” he sets the half-crystal into a stand that allows it to hover over the device. He lifts his hands with a flourish and holds them far back from the device, as if to show that he’s not touching anything - that this isn’t some trick or sleight of hand.
“Look into the glass surface,” he says. “The device will do all the work: the conduit fields will pick up on your energy and try to match it with that of the crystals in the device. Just keep your focus on the glass and open your mind to whatever comes. Got it?”
“I… I think so.”
He looks at Yunho for a long moment, his gaze burning. “We’ll go for only a minute; you shouldn’t need more than that. Do you understand?”
“Er-”
“Excellent,” he says, and pulls an ornate watch on a silver chain out of his pants pocket. Yunho’s mind supplies the idea that it’s some antique circus heirloom -until Changmin begins to fiddle with it and he sees the face of the watch is actually digital. Only the back is gilded and carved to make it look old-fashioned. Tacky and ridiculous, Yunho thinks, as Changmin sets it to 00:01:00.
“Look at the crystal,” he reprimands lightly. “We begin now.”
So they return to waiting. Changmin leans back and crosses his arms -Yunho can see that even though he’s got his eyes focused on the crystal, because the glass is so smooth it looks like a mirror. It shows the reflection of the room as it is now, a pale view of himself overlaid with an inverted image of Changmin, sitting in the chair across from him, looking straight-faced as ever.
Sixty seconds might as well be sixty hours when all you can do is sit and stare with your eyes as wide as possible -and stare at nothing, at that. The hum of the device is still there, but otherwise nothing happens. Yunho continues to focus on the crystal ball, to the point that the rest of the world falls away and everything else goes dark. But it’s just for a fleeting moment, a mind-trick of tunnel vision, and it’s not like anything changes about the crystal - it’s just their boring, ordinary overlapping reflections.
He hears Changmin mutter something, but it’s too soft for it to be for Yunho’s ears, and a few interminable seconds later it finally ends, with the sharp beeping of the watch.
Yunho blinks rapidly, clearing water from his eyes. He doesn’t feel changed. He doesn’t feel happy. He wonders if there’s maybe another step to this that Changmin has yet to reveal.
He looks up, but finds Changmin sitting straight in his chair, staring with something that might be ferocity at the device.
“…Interesting,” he says, after a moment.
Yunho sits up straight as well. “Interesting?” he asks, apprehensive. “What does that mean? What happened?”
“Nothing happened. It didn’t work.”
Yunho feels his stomach drop. He feels like a fool for putting any hope in this at all. “It didn’t work?”
“Looks like it.” He thinks for a moment that Changmin looks flustered, a bit wild around the eyes, but once more it’s gone too quickly and his manner of bland asperity returns, more forceful than ever, and something about that makes Yunho angry. Angry that he’s been drawn into this farce, that he actually believed…
“This is ridiculous-”
“Sorry, but it’s not my fault,” Changmin says simply. “It’s never not worked before. The problem must obviously be you.”
Yunho’s jaw drops, but Changmin is already standing and brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “Also, company policy, but I don’t give refunds.”
“What? I haven’t even paid you!”
“Yes you did,” the man throws over his shoulder as he walks into his backroom. “Show yourself out, please!” he calls.
But Yunho can’t move, stunned into stillness. It takes him a minute -sixty seconds that don’t seem long at all, this time- to regain control of himself. He looks down at the device; Changmin took the half-crystal with him but the rest of the device is still splayed open like some geological robot corpse. He looks up and around the rest of the room, but it’s so bare there’s nothing else to focus on. He can hear Choikang moving around in the backroom, and he’s unsure what to do.
He looks back at the device. He curls his hands into fists on his knees and breathes in and out, ignoring that rattle-hum in his lungs, and counts wires for calm.
When he no longer feels the hum, he stands, and he shows himself out.
[tbc]
started writing: 12/19/09
finished writing: 6/27/12
master list
Circus!AU, woo! This was actually supposed to be part of my holiday series waaay back when (the reason why this starts off with New Year’s even though it’s almost July, haha), but sadly it didn’t make the cut. I’ve always liked it, though, so after brushing off the dust, here it is, a most auspicious beginning~
I'm still tinkering with the rest of the story, so I'm not sure how long it will be or even where exactly we'll end up, haha. I'll do my best to update quickly, but as always, comments make great food for motivation ;)