a quieter world.
a quieter world
only 167 words a day
(people have protested before but the government always wins. people have used up all their words in a matter of minutes trying to fight against it.
the government always wins).
jungsoo and hyukjae and sungmin are together when the announcement for the new speaking rule is announced across the screen in neat black letters, white background, with a loud blare that has all the trainees in the lobby staring at the television in shock.
no one speaks for the minutes after. one of the trainees, jongwoon hyukjae recalls, has the thought to turn off the blank screen. behind where jungsoo and hyukjae and sungmin are sitting at their table, someone breathes out what? incredulously and that's all it takes.
shouts and curses are ushered from mouths' of aspiring idols, all lessons about image and perfection forgotten. at the table, no one makes a move. jungsoo watches the screen in disbelief, and sungmin and hyukjae look around; one at the chaos and one in confusion.
a week later, the founder of sm entertainment releases a statement to all the trainees that have them reeling back in shock and others in disgust. the ones that have already signed the contract are stuck. this isn't what they signed up for, endless dancing and words that are so few in numbers that don't even belong to them anymore.
many companies follow suit, giving the same addition to their contracts and only keeping the ones that will abide. a banner is added to every practice room as a friendly reminder. the numbers of trainees decrease immensely and the ones that remain have their lips draw tight, watching for the empty spaces the next day.
no word is to be spoken unless under company orders.
anyone unable to follow will be dealt with accordingly.
(how do you explain the importance of freedom of speech in 167 words? how do you explain it's not enough when not enough happens and cuts you off?
it takes them only a couple words to say, "request denied," or to charge you for protesting on private property. the government is organized and knows where to pick up the leftover pieces).
even with the new addition to the contract and all the words saved, most songs are too short and empty - barely over three minutes filled with long chords of only instruments. they all start sounding the same. there are too many musicians and not enough singers; no one gets all the words they're looking for.
instant messaging devices over the computer are disabled because they're considered cheating. instead, hyukjae and jungsoo and sungmin all sit around on the floor of jungsoo's room and pass around a notebook and pencil.
most times, they turn on the tv and switch to the performances of people that have already debuted and watch in silence. the notebook is put somewhere in front of hyukjae because he always sits in the middle.
it's one day when they're watching a live performance of dbsk and junsu's voice stops after a word that everything clicks into place. sungmin's the one that brings it up first and hyukjae just blinks at the words written in their notebook later that night.
"what do you say?" he rasps out. sungmin clears his throat and tries again, and hyukjae can't help but laugh at how unfamiliar it sounds, wonders if his voice sounds different too, when he says okay.
jungsoo closes his eyes and tries to imagine what he would be if he didn't want to be an idol.
he opens his eyes and sees hyukjae and sungmin staring at him with excitement traced with fear flushing their cheeks and thinks that, maybe, it doesn't matter if he's an idol or detective or part timer, as long as they stay together.
the next day, they leave a voice message saying sorry and resignation letters on their bunk beds with small drawers empty and don't look back.
(after a while, there's only a couple handfuls of protesters for every country. parents have put away the bedtime stories and instead pulled out picture books for their four year old sons and daughters. there are no more conversations about the weather and words aren't spent on hellos or how are yous.
there are still people using gunshots for speech and screams that are clearer now than ever without words words words filling the quiet spaces. there are a lot more silences and elevator music and readings of eyes, and in a way, millions of people learn to treasure their words more).
donghae opens the door wide to see three boys with colored hair and packed bags, hoods pulled over their heads and hands stuck in pockets.
before he has the chance to panic - hyukjae is already halfway past the threshold and sungmin's tossing his bag into the apartment - jungsoo shakes donghae's hand and happily says, "thank you for lending us your hospitality as hyukjae's friend!"
the rest falls into place. that night, after eating and piling their bags into one corner by their shoes, the three turned four lay blankets out on the floor of donghae's living room. there are a lot of questions to be asked, unsaid explanations and simple conversations between friends that've been separated too long, but all words have been used up.
sungmin whispers good night when it's a minute past midnight but there are only smiles in response. jungsoo listens to hyukjae breathing next to him, listens to the way the heater works, listens to how the clock ticks in time to his heartbeat.
it's quiet.
(but then there are the people that run out of words before noon, who mouth words and scribble on paper, with syllables that die in the back of their throat.
the old lady at the market that argues with the owner for a discount because she bought a lot of oranges. the child yelling about a lost balloon that the sky ate. the relative millions of miles away whose voice you haven't heard in so long. the auctioneer who would rather just buy enough words to greet his kid after coming home).
days pass and morph into weeks. donghae gets along with sungmin and jungsoo well, and hyukjae hasn't laughed this much in ages. they get into a routine that works for them.
sungmin cooks, donghae and hyukjae set the table, and jungsoo folds napkins. they trade off on who does laundry and hyukjae's good at cleaning while jungsoo goes to buy groceries with sungmin.
the radio is always on and jokes, conversations, questions, are one word things.
it's different sometimes. it's hyukjae that holds donghae tight the first time, and the times after, he finds donghae alone on the porch, a phone call with his mom that ended with tears on his face and words used up for the day.
it's sungmin that always finds hyukjae dancing late into the night, who dances with him and presses him against the mirror hours later when they're both exhausted, when it's still not enough. they never talk about it afterward, just kiss the silence away.
it's donghae that makes jungsoo rest with fingers smoothing down the other's face when the oldest is trying too hard to take care of them all, to hold them together when they're all about to break from struggling, because jungsoo doesn't see that he's breaking too.
it's a routine that works for them, filling in each other's missing words with touches and keeping the silence at bay with distractions when it hurts the most.
(people adjust but it's still hard and frustrating. silent protests flood the streets on certain days of the month like flocks of birds darkening parts of the sky but the government doesn't budge. it's the quietest war and no one really knows what to do about it.
life goes on. life goes on, with its problems and constant changes tinged with black and white. people die and fight and live and dream. they walk and occasionally talk and sleep and breathe. they love without words and hate all the same, but it's a quieter world).
inspired by the quiet world.