been writing her a alot these days
something right
hyoyeon-centric. posted on kpfm.
Hyoyeon starts ordering salads, sits down with it, and processes how she'll eat it away. The waiter asks her what kind of drink she wants, and she asks for water. She wants water because it's free, not because it makes her full and sneaking sodas stopped being fun.
Hyoyeon starts dancing more. She's always dancing by herself these days. Everyone else is either recording a song she doesn't have the vocal capability for or getting dressed up for a commercial she's not right for.
Her cheeks sink, and her hair gets flat. She seizes a chance to wear a pretty black dress at the opening of a store. A photographer snaps a picture of her in the center. She tells herself she's doing something right.
She practices so much one day that she locks herself up in the bathroom and tears off her shirt. When her chest heaves, she notices her skeleton poking out. The shirt that once felt so tight feels like a blanket that she wipes her eyes with and throws over her figure.
The next day, Hyoyeon jogs. She runs to the closest convenience store where she buy all the snacks she's neglected.
nothing good happens after 2:00 am
hyofany, hyohyuk. au. posted on kpfm.
The golden rule is to stay out no later than 2:00 AM. 1:00 is okay. 1:30 is okay. But as soon as her digital watch beeps and flashes 12:00, it's supposed to be off her wrist and flung onto her bedside. Nothing good happens after 2:00 AM. Having heard that from a relative, Hyoyeon has never bothered to find out what exactly happens after 2:00 AM.
Until one day. Actually, one night since she's driving home on dark roads and some phase of the moon that she forgot. Her cellphone ring tone suddenly clashes with her mix tape, and she lowers down the volume of the car stereo before reaching for her cellphone. She looks at the number, and then at the time. 1:30 AM. She's stuck between ignoring the call and going home or picking up the phone and getting into a 30-minute conversation.
"Hello?"
"Oh my God, I didn't think you would pick up."
Just like Tiffany to dismiss a greeting and jumping straight to the point. Like they've just continued a conversation they've been having for years.
"You know it's almost my bedtime, right?" Hyoyeon says. "And I'm driving home right now?"
"It's 1:35. Since you're already out late, you might as well stay out later," Tiffany says.
"It's not late-what are you trying to get at?" Hyoyeon says, examining her wrinkled forehead in the mirror.
"Can you come over?" Tiffany replies in a small voice.
Hyoyeon looks at the time. 1:37. Then again, Tiffany is an exception to phone mannerisms. Maybe she can be an exception to this rule, too.
She knocks twice on Tiffany's door. It opens just a bit so that Hyoyeon can see the waves of Tiffany's hair and a bare shoulder uncovered by a thin tank top. When she pulls it back all the way, Hyoyeon can fully see the expression on Tiffany's face. Hesistant eyes that say "I can't believe you're here."
"How long can you stay out?" Tiffany asks.
"Depends. What do you need me to do?" Hyoyeon says.
"Keep me company."
She takes out her cellphone. 2:00 AM. But Tiffany grabs her wrist and pulls her inside. The time just falls back into her pocket.
She used to have P.E. with Tiffany. Even though her locker was all the way over on the other side, she would still travel over to Hyoyeon's and fling her shoes and clothes into Hyoyeon's locker. They used to compare each other's breast sizes and pants sizes. As a joke, Tiffany stabbed her chest with manicured nails. But this time, her reaching underneath Hyoyeon's shirt isn't a joke.
"Are you okay with this?" Tiffany asks, breathing softly on her neck.
Hyoyeon nods, only urging Tiffany to move her face closer and kiss her hard. Better than trying to go to sleep at 2:00 AM.
"Wait," Hyoyeon interrupts, moving her nose away. "Let me wash up for a bit."
"Okay," Tiffany says, getting off. Hyoyeon stands up from the couch and walks into the open bathroom. With her back against the closed door, Hyoyeon pushes the hair off her neck and feels the sweat that's claiming it. She presses a button on her cellphone and sees 2:20 AM. Then she notices the scratches on the back of her cellphone. She's never abused her cellphone.
It's too late. When she comes out of the bathroom, Tiffany's already fixing her shirt.
"Someone called you," Tiffany says, holding up Hyoyeon's unscathed cellphone for her to see. "He wants you to call him back."
They switch back each other's cellphones. Tiffany walks into her bedroom, so Hyoyeon locks the door from inside and steps out into the hallway.
She dials back the phone number. "Hyukjae?"
"Hey, I just called you. Tiffany said you were in the bathroom."
Hyoyeon bites her lip. "I was."
today is thursday
hyohae. au.
He hears his cellphone ringing. It’s on top of the pillow, close to his head. But his head is weighed down. Did concrete just push through his ears and pool into his thoughts, making sure they would all get stuck? He can ask himself questions, but he can’t imagine the mess inside his head.
And he stupidly sticks his finger in his ear. Draws out earwax instead of blocks.
--
He opens the fridge, letting the door swing wide open. The hinges are squeaky and loose. He balances himself on the door, putting his full weight on it. It could break for all he cares.
The first shelf is empty. What used to be there were leftovers, dishes they couldn’t finish at dinner. His eyes skip down to the second shelf, which is also empty. She’d always kept the fridge stocked for him. He didn’t need to worry about things like that. Third shelf. A carton of eggs. He reaches for it, but retracts his hand back. Nah. Too lazy. She took the pans with her, anyway.
There is something blue in the crisper. Food isn’t blue. He pulls out the crisper and takes out the Pepsi can. Looks at it unsatisfactorily, then pulls back the tab.
--
“How are you?”
“Good.”
“Is that an honest answer?”
Donghae clasps his hands together.
“No.”
“So you’re feeling bad, then.”
“You can say that.”
“Had a bad morning?”
“Do I look like it?”
“So you had a good morning, but looked like you had a bad morning? Interesting.”
“No, I-” Donghae licks his lips. It’s more like scraping his tongue on sandpaper. “-I couldn’t find anything to eat. I only drank soda in the morning. It’s why I’m acting like this.”
“That’s bad, you know. Not getting a good breakfast.”
“I know. But I can’t cook for myself.”
“You can’t? Who did it for you?”
“A girl. A friend. We’re not friends anymore. That’s why I didn’t have breakfast.”
Donghae sees himself in his therapist’s glasses. There’s an accurate reflection of the dark bags under his eyes.
“Let’s put you on some sleeping pills.”
--
It had been his fault, really. He played with her hair until it became natural for Hyoyeon to freeze up at his touch. He kissed down her neck until she stopped resisting the flirting, the teasing. He didn’t stop her from rising up early to cook breakfast.
He was the one who accidentally dropped the plate when she passed it to him, right after she had confessed to having feelings for him. And he had treated her like a fan, by smiling hugely and dismissing her words. It became quiet at the table. When he leaned over to kiss her, he only got 5 of her piercings pressed to his face.
She left. Donghae stopped sleeping. She made the right decision. He became a regular at the pharmacy.
--
Donghae’s sitting down in front of the TV. The remote accompanies his hand. The show accompanies his restless eyes. The insert audience sounds accompany his ears. He’s not actually sitting on a couch and watching taped shows by himself.
hyoyeon-centric. posted on kpfm.
Hyoyeon starts ordering salads, sits down with it, and processes how she'll eat it away. The waiter asks her what kind of drink she wants, and she asks for water. She wants water because it's free, not because it makes her full and sneaking sodas stopped being fun.
Hyoyeon starts dancing more. She's always dancing by herself these days. Everyone else is either recording a song she doesn't have the vocal capability for or getting dressed up for a commercial she's not right for.
Her cheeks sink, and her hair gets flat. She seizes a chance to wear a pretty black dress at the opening of a store. A photographer snaps a picture of her in the center. She tells herself she's doing something right.
She practices so much one day that she locks herself up in the bathroom and tears off her shirt. When her chest heaves, she notices her skeleton poking out. The shirt that once felt so tight feels like a blanket that she wipes her eyes with and throws over her figure.
The next day, Hyoyeon jogs. She runs to the closest convenience store where she buy all the snacks she's neglected.
nothing good happens after 2:00 am
hyofany, hyohyuk. au. posted on kpfm.
The golden rule is to stay out no later than 2:00 AM. 1:00 is okay. 1:30 is okay. But as soon as her digital watch beeps and flashes 12:00, it's supposed to be off her wrist and flung onto her bedside. Nothing good happens after 2:00 AM. Having heard that from a relative, Hyoyeon has never bothered to find out what exactly happens after 2:00 AM.
Until one day. Actually, one night since she's driving home on dark roads and some phase of the moon that she forgot. Her cellphone ring tone suddenly clashes with her mix tape, and she lowers down the volume of the car stereo before reaching for her cellphone. She looks at the number, and then at the time. 1:30 AM. She's stuck between ignoring the call and going home or picking up the phone and getting into a 30-minute conversation.
"Hello?"
"Oh my God, I didn't think you would pick up."
Just like Tiffany to dismiss a greeting and jumping straight to the point. Like they've just continued a conversation they've been having for years.
"You know it's almost my bedtime, right?" Hyoyeon says. "And I'm driving home right now?"
"It's 1:35. Since you're already out late, you might as well stay out later," Tiffany says.
"It's not late-what are you trying to get at?" Hyoyeon says, examining her wrinkled forehead in the mirror.
"Can you come over?" Tiffany replies in a small voice.
Hyoyeon looks at the time. 1:37. Then again, Tiffany is an exception to phone mannerisms. Maybe she can be an exception to this rule, too.
She knocks twice on Tiffany's door. It opens just a bit so that Hyoyeon can see the waves of Tiffany's hair and a bare shoulder uncovered by a thin tank top. When she pulls it back all the way, Hyoyeon can fully see the expression on Tiffany's face. Hesistant eyes that say "I can't believe you're here."
"How long can you stay out?" Tiffany asks.
"Depends. What do you need me to do?" Hyoyeon says.
"Keep me company."
She takes out her cellphone. 2:00 AM. But Tiffany grabs her wrist and pulls her inside. The time just falls back into her pocket.
She used to have P.E. with Tiffany. Even though her locker was all the way over on the other side, she would still travel over to Hyoyeon's and fling her shoes and clothes into Hyoyeon's locker. They used to compare each other's breast sizes and pants sizes. As a joke, Tiffany stabbed her chest with manicured nails. But this time, her reaching underneath Hyoyeon's shirt isn't a joke.
"Are you okay with this?" Tiffany asks, breathing softly on her neck.
Hyoyeon nods, only urging Tiffany to move her face closer and kiss her hard. Better than trying to go to sleep at 2:00 AM.
"Wait," Hyoyeon interrupts, moving her nose away. "Let me wash up for a bit."
"Okay," Tiffany says, getting off. Hyoyeon stands up from the couch and walks into the open bathroom. With her back against the closed door, Hyoyeon pushes the hair off her neck and feels the sweat that's claiming it. She presses a button on her cellphone and sees 2:20 AM. Then she notices the scratches on the back of her cellphone. She's never abused her cellphone.
It's too late. When she comes out of the bathroom, Tiffany's already fixing her shirt.
"Someone called you," Tiffany says, holding up Hyoyeon's unscathed cellphone for her to see. "He wants you to call him back."
They switch back each other's cellphones. Tiffany walks into her bedroom, so Hyoyeon locks the door from inside and steps out into the hallway.
She dials back the phone number. "Hyukjae?"
"Hey, I just called you. Tiffany said you were in the bathroom."
Hyoyeon bites her lip. "I was."
today is thursday
hyohae. au.
He hears his cellphone ringing. It’s on top of the pillow, close to his head. But his head is weighed down. Did concrete just push through his ears and pool into his thoughts, making sure they would all get stuck? He can ask himself questions, but he can’t imagine the mess inside his head.
And he stupidly sticks his finger in his ear. Draws out earwax instead of blocks.
--
He opens the fridge, letting the door swing wide open. The hinges are squeaky and loose. He balances himself on the door, putting his full weight on it. It could break for all he cares.
The first shelf is empty. What used to be there were leftovers, dishes they couldn’t finish at dinner. His eyes skip down to the second shelf, which is also empty. She’d always kept the fridge stocked for him. He didn’t need to worry about things like that. Third shelf. A carton of eggs. He reaches for it, but retracts his hand back. Nah. Too lazy. She took the pans with her, anyway.
There is something blue in the crisper. Food isn’t blue. He pulls out the crisper and takes out the Pepsi can. Looks at it unsatisfactorily, then pulls back the tab.
--
“How are you?”
“Good.”
“Is that an honest answer?”
Donghae clasps his hands together.
“No.”
“So you’re feeling bad, then.”
“You can say that.”
“Had a bad morning?”
“Do I look like it?”
“So you had a good morning, but looked like you had a bad morning? Interesting.”
“No, I-” Donghae licks his lips. It’s more like scraping his tongue on sandpaper. “-I couldn’t find anything to eat. I only drank soda in the morning. It’s why I’m acting like this.”
“That’s bad, you know. Not getting a good breakfast.”
“I know. But I can’t cook for myself.”
“You can’t? Who did it for you?”
“A girl. A friend. We’re not friends anymore. That’s why I didn’t have breakfast.”
Donghae sees himself in his therapist’s glasses. There’s an accurate reflection of the dark bags under his eyes.
“Let’s put you on some sleeping pills.”
--
It had been his fault, really. He played with her hair until it became natural for Hyoyeon to freeze up at his touch. He kissed down her neck until she stopped resisting the flirting, the teasing. He didn’t stop her from rising up early to cook breakfast.
He was the one who accidentally dropped the plate when she passed it to him, right after she had confessed to having feelings for him. And he had treated her like a fan, by smiling hugely and dismissing her words. It became quiet at the table. When he leaned over to kiss her, he only got 5 of her piercings pressed to his face.
She left. Donghae stopped sleeping. She made the right decision. He became a regular at the pharmacy.
--
Donghae’s sitting down in front of the TV. The remote accompanies his hand. The show accompanies his restless eyes. The insert audience sounds accompany his ears. He’s not actually sitting on a couch and watching taped shows by himself.