Interviewer
Title: Interviewer
Pairing: Haehyuk
Rating: PG
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance, Slice of life
Length: One-shot, 1,512 words
Summary: I cry out while covering my ears, that people will never be able to understand each other. But the truth is, I wanted to be loved, even if it is just physically.
Pop songs always tell us that our lives are irreplaceable.
When I was a freshman in high school, I had always loved this senior who was a year older than me.
But if somebody were to take over my place, I doubt it would even trouble anyone.
“Recently I’ve been taken a liking in playing pool.”
“Seriously, I know a great place.”
“Really, shall we head there after school?”
“Sure,” He paused and looked at me. “What about you, Hyukjae?”
“It’s okay, count me out.” I responded with a faint smile.
“Okay, never mind then.”
The people who were a step closer than a stranger to me were just acquaintances. I didn’t dislike them but, somehow, we would only just remain as acquaintances. The only thing that linked us was school, and if we were to graduate, I reckoned we would never come across each other again. It wasn’t like I was anti-social; I attended to what I needed to. I did not reject connections and relationships, I did not reject, and I did not initiate anything more, either.
-
Through the days that will never change for the better, we, being mere borrowed items, are searching for a seat.
Listing out three pet peeves for that current Lee Hyukjae - the antique and ancient-looking alarm clock ringing a minute earlier, the toast that could never look just right, and the desperate people who rushed into the train even before the doors were fully opened just to get a seat. Similarly, in a place where everybody was searching for a place to belong, a place to exist, they tried hard to win a seat to move forward in their lives.
It wasn’t that I hated people who tried overly hard; it was because I believed that, if you belonged to that perfect environment, a group of compatible mates, you’d surely belonged to them. Trying is futile, because you couldn’t guarantee the outcome, and you couldn’t guarantee mutual reciprocation, either.
I pondered if it was that one minute I missed sleeping, or that slightly over-toasted bread, or that humongous stream of people I had come across when I was heading to school on that day. I swore I was nuts, I was not sane; I was not in conscious state because I had asked my damned crush out for a confession through a note.
Unable to amount to anything at all, just like that, my heart gradually comes to a stop.
I wondered if he would despise or mock me if he knew I was a male. I wondered if he would happily invite his friends over to watch this free and old-fashioned soap opera. I wondered if he would accept me just because he thought it was amusing. I wondered if he would reject me and laugh at my naïve motive. I wondered if I should even live. In the end, I escaped. I was a coward, until high school graduation, I still remained as a coward.
And that cowardice had unconsciously left me a wound.
Pulling onto my scab, I scratch my old wound until it bleeds again.
Time heals, they said. Right, it could be true, but the procedure could also prove that statement wrong, too. The wound itched, it itched every single day that sometimes I couldn’t fall asleep. It itched so much that it hurt. And today, it itched the worst. I started working in a magazine publishing company right after graduation. People were always desperately looking for a place, remember? They were also desperately looking for a job too. It wasn’t what I wanted to do - or I should say I had nothing I wanted to - but I didn’t dislike it. If I didn’t dislike it, I wouldn’t reject it.
And so my life was a total joke.
“This is Lee Donghae, he will be collaborating next month’s new column with you.”
“Hi, I am Lee Donghae. Hope we get along in the following weeks.”
That’s right; my wound itched the most when this particular word was enunciated by this particular voice.
“Hello, I am Lee Hyukjae.” And that was the best sentence that I could come out with.
He smiled at me and I could feel that the wound had started to bleed, again.
-
A week had passed and I had more or less adapted to the brand new environment with his presence.
“Sunbae, can we include this segment into the last paragraph of our column?”
“I guess so, it should be alright.” Almost choked onto my own saliva, I brought myself back. “And stop calling me that, you’re a year older than me.”
“But you’re my sunbae in this field.” He widened his lips as if there were no boundaries.
“True.” What an irony, you were that sunbae whom I fell in love in high school.
Not trying to prolong this conversation, I tried to keep my response as short as possible. Don’t even bother to try, because it was futile, and it would only bring devastations.
“Hey,” Well, surprisingly, the other party was still trying. “I’ve been wondering if we should do a survey on our readers.”
“Survey?”
“Yeah, so that we can get a gist of their preferences and we can report stuff that can grab their interest.”
“Well, you’re not wrong but- ”
“I’ll do a proposal for editor’s approval now!”
I could never keep up to his pace.
-
I cry out while covering my ears, that people will never be able to understand each other. But the truth is, I wanted to be loved, even if it is just physically.
One night, I had a dream. I dreamt of a girl who I rejected during my third year of high school.
“Which part of me do you love?”
“Eh?”
“You said that you loved me, right?” I stared right into her eyes. “So tell me which part of me do you love?”
She stuttered her words and they were beyond my comprehension.
“Do you even understand me? We don’t even know each other directly, and this is probably the first time that we’ve exchanged words. So which part of me to you like?”
Tears filled up to the brim of her eyes.
“If you fall in love this easily, the only victim will be yourself, and nobody… else.” At that time, I finally had the courage to realise that it had to be Donghae, for me to love.
When I woke up, there was a trace of tear streaming down from my eyes.
At 7 o'clock in the depressing morning, please let me sleep just a little longer.
-
Donghae’s proposal was approved and it received great responses from the readers. After the collaboration period was over, we had a farewell party; we settled down along the bar and had a few sips and chatters.
“Thanks to you, the survey helped a lot.”
“It was nothing,” He scratched his head. “They were just mere questions about preferences.”
“Say, what kind of music do you like?” I breathed out and pressed my lips against the glass.
“Jazz, I guess?”
“Food?”
“Chicken.”
“What about movies?”
“Probably an action or a comedy?”
“Favourite tagline.”
“It will be alright!”
“Then, do you have somebody you love right now?”
Well, it didn’t have to be me.
“Eh?”
With that, the night ended.
-
None, there is no future for me.
“This is bad…” I howled while curling myself under the cold blankets.
I’m not, I’m not expecting anything.
“I’m an idiot.”
There’s nobody, nobody is by my side anymore.
“What’s with that - coming and going by as you wish” Biting my lower lip, I sobbed without any control.
I want to smile; I want to smile with him.
But all I could ever do was hurting myself and crying alone.
I merely wanted him to notice and recognise my feelings.
But all I could ever do was escaping and hiding.
I have given up on anything and everything.
But probably, except for just this person.
The other side of the scenery begins to blur.
The clock ticked to twelve midnight and everything was under a state of utter silence. This time, the clock was brand new and accurate, it had been eons since I had eaten toasts, and nobody was there to affect me. I reckoned I was normal; I was sane and definitely conscious to punch this damned button down to get the phone call through.
“Hey,” I called out before he greeted me. “About the last question I asked earlier… what is the answer?”
An unbearable long pause was introduced, but my feelings weren’t wavered at all.
“What about you?”
“Eh?”
“Do you have anybody you love right now?”
Indeed, time healed. Time healed my ego over these past years. I was a fool in believing my own implausible philosophy. When a person tried too hard overtime, they tend to give up; but when a person kept giving up overtime, they tend to try hard for at least, once.
Hey, do you suppose, if it’s still too late for me?
“Yeah, I do.”
A/n: omg hi omg so i have got like ths storytelling shit tmrw for my speech module and i wrote this okokok so it's been forever and i think my readers will be like who the fuck is this bitch again but- um so, yeah a song fic inspired by this song - interviewer, originally by megurine luka. lyrics in italics! comments would be really nice ;wwwww;
Pairing: Haehyuk
Rating: PG
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance, Slice of life
Length: One-shot, 1,512 words
Summary: I cry out while covering my ears, that people will never be able to understand each other. But the truth is, I wanted to be loved, even if it is just physically.
Pop songs always tell us that our lives are irreplaceable.
When I was a freshman in high school, I had always loved this senior who was a year older than me.
But if somebody were to take over my place, I doubt it would even trouble anyone.
“Recently I’ve been taken a liking in playing pool.”
“Seriously, I know a great place.”
“Really, shall we head there after school?”
“Sure,” He paused and looked at me. “What about you, Hyukjae?”
“It’s okay, count me out.” I responded with a faint smile.
“Okay, never mind then.”
The people who were a step closer than a stranger to me were just acquaintances. I didn’t dislike them but, somehow, we would only just remain as acquaintances. The only thing that linked us was school, and if we were to graduate, I reckoned we would never come across each other again. It wasn’t like I was anti-social; I attended to what I needed to. I did not reject connections and relationships, I did not reject, and I did not initiate anything more, either.
-
Through the days that will never change for the better, we, being mere borrowed items, are searching for a seat.
Listing out three pet peeves for that current Lee Hyukjae - the antique and ancient-looking alarm clock ringing a minute earlier, the toast that could never look just right, and the desperate people who rushed into the train even before the doors were fully opened just to get a seat. Similarly, in a place where everybody was searching for a place to belong, a place to exist, they tried hard to win a seat to move forward in their lives.
It wasn’t that I hated people who tried overly hard; it was because I believed that, if you belonged to that perfect environment, a group of compatible mates, you’d surely belonged to them. Trying is futile, because you couldn’t guarantee the outcome, and you couldn’t guarantee mutual reciprocation, either.
I pondered if it was that one minute I missed sleeping, or that slightly over-toasted bread, or that humongous stream of people I had come across when I was heading to school on that day. I swore I was nuts, I was not sane; I was not in conscious state because I had asked my damned crush out for a confession through a note.
Unable to amount to anything at all, just like that, my heart gradually comes to a stop.
I wondered if he would despise or mock me if he knew I was a male. I wondered if he would happily invite his friends over to watch this free and old-fashioned soap opera. I wondered if he would accept me just because he thought it was amusing. I wondered if he would reject me and laugh at my naïve motive. I wondered if I should even live. In the end, I escaped. I was a coward, until high school graduation, I still remained as a coward.
And that cowardice had unconsciously left me a wound.
Pulling onto my scab, I scratch my old wound until it bleeds again.
Time heals, they said. Right, it could be true, but the procedure could also prove that statement wrong, too. The wound itched, it itched every single day that sometimes I couldn’t fall asleep. It itched so much that it hurt. And today, it itched the worst. I started working in a magazine publishing company right after graduation. People were always desperately looking for a place, remember? They were also desperately looking for a job too. It wasn’t what I wanted to do - or I should say I had nothing I wanted to - but I didn’t dislike it. If I didn’t dislike it, I wouldn’t reject it.
And so my life was a total joke.
“This is Lee Donghae, he will be collaborating next month’s new column with you.”
“Hi, I am Lee Donghae. Hope we get along in the following weeks.”
That’s right; my wound itched the most when this particular word was enunciated by this particular voice.
“Hello, I am Lee Hyukjae.” And that was the best sentence that I could come out with.
He smiled at me and I could feel that the wound had started to bleed, again.
-
A week had passed and I had more or less adapted to the brand new environment with his presence.
“Sunbae, can we include this segment into the last paragraph of our column?”
“I guess so, it should be alright.” Almost choked onto my own saliva, I brought myself back. “And stop calling me that, you’re a year older than me.”
“But you’re my sunbae in this field.” He widened his lips as if there were no boundaries.
“True.” What an irony, you were that sunbae whom I fell in love in high school.
Not trying to prolong this conversation, I tried to keep my response as short as possible. Don’t even bother to try, because it was futile, and it would only bring devastations.
“Hey,” Well, surprisingly, the other party was still trying. “I’ve been wondering if we should do a survey on our readers.”
“Survey?”
“Yeah, so that we can get a gist of their preferences and we can report stuff that can grab their interest.”
“Well, you’re not wrong but- ”
“I’ll do a proposal for editor’s approval now!”
I could never keep up to his pace.
-
I cry out while covering my ears, that people will never be able to understand each other. But the truth is, I wanted to be loved, even if it is just physically.
One night, I had a dream. I dreamt of a girl who I rejected during my third year of high school.
“Which part of me do you love?”
“Eh?”
“You said that you loved me, right?” I stared right into her eyes. “So tell me which part of me do you love?”
She stuttered her words and they were beyond my comprehension.
“Do you even understand me? We don’t even know each other directly, and this is probably the first time that we’ve exchanged words. So which part of me to you like?”
Tears filled up to the brim of her eyes.
“If you fall in love this easily, the only victim will be yourself, and nobody… else.” At that time, I finally had the courage to realise that it had to be Donghae, for me to love.
When I woke up, there was a trace of tear streaming down from my eyes.
At 7 o'clock in the depressing morning, please let me sleep just a little longer.
-
Donghae’s proposal was approved and it received great responses from the readers. After the collaboration period was over, we had a farewell party; we settled down along the bar and had a few sips and chatters.
“Thanks to you, the survey helped a lot.”
“It was nothing,” He scratched his head. “They were just mere questions about preferences.”
“Say, what kind of music do you like?” I breathed out and pressed my lips against the glass.
“Jazz, I guess?”
“Food?”
“Chicken.”
“What about movies?”
“Probably an action or a comedy?”
“Favourite tagline.”
“It will be alright!”
“Then, do you have somebody you love right now?”
Well, it didn’t have to be me.
“Eh?”
With that, the night ended.
-
None, there is no future for me.
“This is bad…” I howled while curling myself under the cold blankets.
I’m not, I’m not expecting anything.
“I’m an idiot.”
There’s nobody, nobody is by my side anymore.
“What’s with that - coming and going by as you wish” Biting my lower lip, I sobbed without any control.
I want to smile; I want to smile with him.
But all I could ever do was hurting myself and crying alone.
I merely wanted him to notice and recognise my feelings.
But all I could ever do was escaping and hiding.
I have given up on anything and everything.
But probably, except for just this person.
The other side of the scenery begins to blur.
The clock ticked to twelve midnight and everything was under a state of utter silence. This time, the clock was brand new and accurate, it had been eons since I had eaten toasts, and nobody was there to affect me. I reckoned I was normal; I was sane and definitely conscious to punch this damned button down to get the phone call through.
“Hey,” I called out before he greeted me. “About the last question I asked earlier… what is the answer?”
An unbearable long pause was introduced, but my feelings weren’t wavered at all.
“What about you?”
“Eh?”
“Do you have anybody you love right now?”
Indeed, time healed. Time healed my ego over these past years. I was a fool in believing my own implausible philosophy. When a person tried too hard overtime, they tend to give up; but when a person kept giving up overtime, they tend to try hard for at least, once.
Hey, do you suppose, if it’s still too late for me?
“Yeah, I do.”
A/n: omg hi omg so i have got like ths storytelling shit tmrw for my speech module and i wrote this okokok so it's been forever and i think my readers will be like who the fuck is this bitch again but- um so, yeah a song fic inspired by this song - interviewer, originally by megurine luka. lyrics in italics! comments would be really nice ;wwwww;