feels like yesterday; hyukjae centric.
(i'm just looking for someone to love, you tell them).
i'm just looking for someone that loves me too, you tell her, and she laughs like broken glass.
did you really think this would've worked out?, she screams at you, desperate and cruel, not like the first time you met. there's tears in her eyes, and you wonder if it's because she's mad or maybe her heart is hurting too.
so you wrap your arms around her the way you always would, and she cries of shattered roads and mocking laughter. i'm, i'm going to america, she whispers to you, says it again a moment later after she pushes you away with dreams in her eyes.
i got scouted. i'm going to be a star, she says with a shaking voice.
i'm never, never, going to give them a reason to laugh at me, she says with her chin held high.
i'm going to be happy, but she doesn't meet your eyes.
i thought we were happy, you say only loud enough for her to hear, though the world already knows. she shakes her head and takes a step away, then another and another, only leaves words and broken glass behind.
(when you sleep, there's dreams of faceless people, and they dance, dance like the world would be lit on fire if they stopped. they jump from rooftops and land gracefully and they keep dancing, spinning.
they bend and occasionally they break, these faceless people that visit in your dreams. they don't bleed, just keep dancing until they're new again.
sometimes, when you sleep, you're dancing with the faceless people, dancing with the shadows but you scare them all away, with your laughter and smiles and eyes. so you color yourself a little bit darker, smile and laugh a little less, and jump from rooftops when they do.
your face is damp with tears when you wake, having scared away the monsters in the dark).
three weeks of junsu asking about the circles under your eyes every morning when he enters the flower shop you two work at, you start missing her a little less.
you stop looking up every time the door opens, to see if it's her, to see if she left her dreams behind because she loves you more than that. there's a lot of regulars and they all smile when they see you.
junsu laughs with them over the counter, silly jokes about the weather and doing gags that no one really understands. you wrap up their purchase carefully, throwing in extra plant food and flower decorations for the little girl trying to grow tulips.
you take more walks in the shadows and it doesn't feel lonely.
(after countless nights and dances with the faceless people, they start getting used to you. they teach you how to bend without breaking because you can't heal the way they do, becoming new again.
you start jumping from rooftops a lot more, wondering if you look as beautiful and graceful as they do. they're kind of like faeries, you figure out. playful and alluring, some darker than others in their tricks, but they don't lie to you.
sometimes, you land wrong. the faceless people stitch you back up and kiss the bruises away, the same way you remember your mother doing when you fell off that swing set in the backyard. their features are all blurred dark, dark, so you don't know when they're smiling and when they're not.
you fall in love with them all, just a little bit, anyways).
siwon is a model.
he has long legs and pretty hands and he says he likes daffodils.
junsu teases him about his hand gestures and he calls you hyung. siwon stops by every sunday to pick up flowers for his mom before going to church, and always lingers by the window to watch you water the sunflowers on the windowsill.
you guys talk about the weather and how his father's treatment is going. he tells you things like, your hair looks nice today hyung, and, you're cute when you smile. he hugs a lot and makes faces, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not, to make you laugh.
it's not a surprise when you find that you like him more than you should.
(you wonder if you're actually sleeping when you meet the faceless people. do they seep into the cracks of your mind when you're unaware? is it where they come to play at night, dancing like the world will end, your dreams. you try to ask them one day, but their dance gets sadder and sadder, and the world starts cracking.
instead, you tell them about the boy with long legs and pretty hands that likes daffodils. they form words of heartbreak and start taking your hands, spinning you around and trying to make you forget.
so you jump from the rooftops with them and the world fixes itself back together with stitching. so you jump from the rooftops holding their hands and they start loving you, just a little bit, more).
hankyung is siwon's choreographer boyfriend.
you see him on tv, answering questions at an event, while lazing around on junsu's couch on a wednesday after closing time. hankyung has bright eyes and is graceful and beautiful like the faceless dancers in your dreams.
you see him again at siwon's party, the first one you actually go to after countless, 'hyung's and, 'you should come hang out with me and all my friends on friday's.
it's loud and siwon's house is big; makes you wonder if you'd get lost if you wanted to find the bathroom. hankyung is even more beautiful in person and when he greets you, you catch the accent in his voice. you stutter out your name and hold onto his hand a second longer than you should.
he laughs in a way that makes you blush, but suddenly siwon's there with arms around hankyung's waist. you watch the way siwon whisks the other away with kisses pressed to the side of his neck, and try hard to ignore the ache of your heart.
after a couple more parties and a couple more smiles, you tell hankyung that you like him, and it doesn't hurt when he ruffles your hair, doesn't hurt when you laugh together.
(don't love too easily, you remember your mother telling you as she kissed away your bruises from that fall off that swing set.
don't fall in love with love, she said the first time you came home with crushed flowers and red eyes.
don't fall in love with the sky, while she drove you to your afternoon dance lessons.
don't fall in love with best friends, five months after you started sleeping over at junsu's house and would come home with bright smiles.
don't fall in love with paper airplanes, as you picked them off the ground so they could fly again.
don't fall in love with your pets, a couple days after the dog that your father had left behind starts getting sick.
don't fall in love with dreams, she would tell you as she shut off the lights and said good night.
and you fell, fell, fell, fell, fell,
fell in love with them anyways).
you meet a lot of people through siwon and hankyung. they show you off every chance they get. you're the boy that works at a flower shop and they're all actors, singers, mcs, dancers, models, important people that you can't love.
there's kyuhyun, yesung, and ryeowook who are in a singing group together. they talk as sweetly as they sing; you know because they all sing to you sometimes. kyuhyun is sarcastic and he holds your hand tight when he weaves melodies into the air. yesung breaks hearts without knowing and mends them back together the same way ryeowook does.
jungsoo and youngwoon, they mc together and you can see the way they look at each other. jungsoo's laugh fills the whole room most times, when he's not fussing over you, not fussing over everyone else. he gets tears in his eyes the first time you tell him that you love him. youngwoon is a burst of laughter behind.
(you start smiling more, laughing more, and they flinch sometimes. these people, they wrap you up in hugs and never once stop dancing, let you dance with them as you get colored shades darker.
it's not until a little bit later that you notice they're made of ink. they paint themselves over when they break, new, new again, and sometimes they bleed from their fingertips, staining the ground with purple dreams.
i'm kind of like disaster, one writes to you with twisting limbs and quick steps that are more frenzied than beautiful. i want to be loved too, it tells you and you're crying tears of purple ink.
i love you, i love you, you tell the faceless person, and for a split second, you see the person smile like saturday afternoons and fireworks and rocket launches and streetlights and christmas vacations and and and
you wake up).
you don't know who mithra and heechul are yet but tablo is mithra's band mate and mithra is kim heechul's best friend from the beginning of time and kim heechul is kim heechul.
that's what he tells you at least, in a voice that makes you think of people that've gone too quick, left too soon. tablo is a writer and a musician and he kind of looks like you, people say. the very first time you two meet, he raps to you, things about first kisses and first meetings and first, first, firsts.
when was the last time you did something for the first time?, he asks you when the party slows down and you're sitting on siwon's rooftop. tablo's kind of awkward, you figure out when you see the older climb through the window and settle next to you.
you don't answer, and he just waits and he kind of makes you feel calm and on edge at the same time because you can tell he notices, sees, things that others don't. you wonder what he sees when he looks at you, and instead you tell him about the faceless people in your dreams.
he listens like he knows. he listens and you still feel silly, telling someone that is a little less than a stranger about your dreams, but then he kisses you lightly, like he could be your first kiss, and breaks your heart a fraction more.
(the days after, you sleep but don't remember your dreams, and the world ends because the faceless people don't dance.
you dance for them instead, and try hard not to break because you don't know how to fix yourself).
heechul is the guy waiting by the crosswalk that you steal glances at, petals in the wind and fleeting butterflies like the ones you can't keep up with. he is a singer, and an mc, and a comedian, and an actor, and the brightest of supernovas. heechul is a thousand words and a thousand paintings and every other photograph and every other definition.
kim heechul is just kim heechul, you know with a glance.
you meet him in the spring, after he comes back from taipei, with extravagant stories and details that don't quite connect but are still perfect anyways. some tease, others laugh, and some are like you. they hang on to every word and watch every flick of the hair.
he catches your eye once, once while hankyung is telling a story but you can't stop looking at him-- like manias attracted to the unknown, and he flashes a smile that is more of a smirk but it's just for you. blood rushes and then heechul tips his head back and laughs and,
your heart stops.
(the faceless people come back. they're all new again and they jump from rooftops as beautiful as ever. they fix the world you've been trying to hold together with stitches and purple ink.
some are scared of you and some aren't, when you smile as you break. some stitch you back as whole as you can be and kiss away your hurt but some stay far away and dance like songs. they're still the same and they help you back up like you're one of them,
but thing is, they don't love you anymore. they don't love you, they don't love you,
they don't love you).
your heart doesn't start again and it's worse than being broken. you stop going to siwon's house and junsu stops yelling every time you break flower pots because it's a couple times a day you do, now.
siwon still comes on sundays, and hankyung treats you to dinner every time he spots you suddenly, even when you protest. kyuhyun takes you to the theme park one time, along with ryeowook and it's too perfect. jungsoo, you see a lot more often because he visits you when he's not busy, when you're not busy.
you guys talk a lot and yesung hugs you tight on cloudy days. youngwoon still teases but he worries and he fusses-- gets it from jungsoo, you think. tablo is your adopted hyung and takes you out drinking even though you don't drink. they all start loving you, a little bit, but you can't love them like that anymore.
you don't see heechul again, not anywhere outside of the television screen and you tell yourself it's okay, that your heart doesn't work. he doesn't love you, and you don't love him, really. but sometimes you watch him doing what he loves and your heart starts beating again at all the wrong times.
you've always had a soft spot for beautiful things, beautiful people,
beautiful dreams.
i'm just looking for someone to love, you tell them.