Round 5: One Last Time
Title: One Last Time
Team: Future
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BEAST
Pairing: OT6
Summary: When BEAST disbands, Junhyung feels like his whole world is falling apart around him.
Author's Note: I pretty much gave up in the end thus the generic summary and title. Sorry.
Prompt Used: MBLAQ - Stay (I meant to base this off the first supplementary prompt, but it sort of had a mind of its own in the end so I’m not sure that it fits.)
It was uncomfortably warm in the underground subway station, which confused Junhyung because the last time he had ridden the train, it was bitterly cold. It was a week, maybe two, after their disbandment and he’d been traveling to and from the dorm collecting things, saying his goodbyes, and finalising documents. Junhyung almost felt like laughing when he realised how long it had been. He hadn’t felt quite so alone in their disbandment-not because of the other members, but more because so many other groups had disbanded around the same time. There was no room for smaller companies these days, anyway, but Cube was still one of the last to go. It didn’t make him any less miserable, though.
There had been offers to move the entire group over to JYP, but group funding was scarce with the two new rookie groups the company had put out, as well as the large group of new trainees, so that was the end of BEAST.
Six years, ten months, and seventeen days of his life had suddenly ended, leaving him stranded-both literally and figuratively-in a big city with no job and no place to call home. The temporary accommodation was just that-temporary, and they were only paid wages to cover another three months until the end of their respective contracts.
Somehow, Junhyung had found himself joining JYP as a soloist (where the logic was in that strategy, Junhyung would never know), but it didn’t last long. He released one single and then slipped of the radar entirely. The company suggested he enlist in the army and then try again in two years.
It was a nice way of saying that there was nothing more they could do for him and his career.
It was no surprise to anyone when Doojoon became a regular on variety shows, dabbling in a bit of acting on the side, and taking over Eunhyuk’s position as an MC on Star King. Kikwang was quick to re-sign with JYP as a soloist, making money from commercials and variety appearances to cover his promotions for the time being. Hyunseung slipped back into the population unnoticed by most, but it wasn’t long before he fell into depression. Yoseob was a regular on many variety shows and worked as a vocal coach for new trainees. Dongwoon, as suggested by one of his ex-university professors, ended up spending more time behind the camera than in front of it, trying his hand at producing and directing.
And Junhyung… Junhyung tried, he really did, but his life seemed to fall apart without his status as an idol; a celebrity. To be thrust into the real world so suddenly was rather frightening to say the least.
It had been a lot longer than he’d thought. The memories of that day-watching as Joonkun’s brow crinkled in worry and anger and apology-were vivid as ever; no more that a week old in his mind. He could still recall the amount of times "I’m sorry" had slipped from their manager’s lips as though it were any fault of his. Junhyung suspected that Joonkun’s anger came not from the disbandment, but from the fact that he was forced to be the messenger.
Yoseob was now somewhere in the middle of preparations for his first album as a soloist (for which he had begged Junhyung to write lyrics, but to no avail), but he still made the effort to call Junhyung once a fortnight at the very least, just to make sure.
Yoseob didn’t admit it to the older man for fear of further injuring his pride, but he was worried-especially after Junhyung’s career as a soloist had flopped. He’d stopped writing lyrics and, the last time Yoseob had visited, Junhyung’s apartment had been a mess and barely contained enough food to sustain a person for a day. He worried that maybe next time he visited, the elder would be a pile of skin and bones buried under rubble and week-old pizza in his living room.
‘Fifteen months,’ Yoseob had told him over the phone. Fifteen months. ‘But I’m okay. It’s been a while, huh?’ One year, three months. ‘Hopefully it all works out for us.’ Four hundred and-how many days?
He wanted to tell Yoseob all sorts of things-I miss looking through Hyunseung’s Japanese fashion magazines; I get lonely when I can’t sleep; I can’t write lyrics without you here-but he didn’t. He kept these things to himself because, after fifteen months, it didn’t even seem to matter anymore. He doubted Yoseob would come racing to see him just to cheer him up and tell him it will all get better.
Instead he says: ‘good luck with your solo album. It’s coming out soon, right?’
Yoseob was quiet for a few minutes, and Junhyung would have thought the younger had hung up on him if it weren’t for the quiet, controlled breathing passing through the phone line. He knew that was Yoseob’s way of coping; just breathe.
‘Yeah,’ he says finally. ‘Well, not that soon-August, they’re saying at the moment. I’m going to keep mentoring and vocal coaching between now and then. But… I hear you’re going to the army soon?’
‘How did you-’
‘Kikwang told me. That they’re, you know, trying to make it seem as though your promotions weren’t a total flop or something; so they have something else to blame your slipping out of the public eye on-but that’s just what Kikwang tells me.’
Junhyung sighed. ‘That’s pretty much it. It was a mutual understanding, though.’
He didn’t keep in touch with Kikwang often. Most of what he heard about him was through Yoseob or occasionally through Doojoon. It was difficult, anyway, with Kikwang's hectic schedule. The only way Yoseob spoke to him was by calling his mobile relentlessly, and he knew Doojoon only knew what he knew through appearances on shows.
He ran into him one day-by chance, really. One of the benefits of being a former artist was that he was now free to come and go as he pleased in terms of the practice rooms, so he often found himself wandering in at all hours just to dance and dance and dance.
(He’d never admit it, but usually by the end he’d find himself a broken mess of bones and muscle and tears on the floor, grabbing at everything and anything that might make him feel whole again-but that’s a different story.)
Junhyung was the type of person to counter pain with more pain, even on the emotional side of things. So, to counter the pain he’d been feeling at the loss of security, his band mates-his life-Junhyung had taken to putting in his earphones (he’d never dare play it aloud) and dancing through their last single as BEAST from start to finish. When things got tough, this was how he coped-it was the only way he knew how.
It wasn’t uncommon for Junhyung to find himself being asked to leave one of the practice rooms when rehearsals were schedule, but never was it by the artists themselves. These days, there was always a team ready and set up before anyone important so much as set foot in the room-except, of course, Kikwang. He was always an exception-to Doojoon’s rules, to the rules of emceeing, and even to quite a few of the rules set down by Cube. He had this peculiar way of worming his way into everyone’s heart (some people taking more time than others) and getting them to bend the rules and even respond to his every beck and call.
So it was a shock, but of no real surprise, when he locked eyes with Kikwang in the mirror. Junhyung stopped abruptly mid-turn, standing stock-still (save his laboured breathing) as he observed the face reflected in the door frame. Kikwang had said something, but Junhyung had to pull his earphone out and ask him to repeat it.
‘Still going after all this time?’
Junhyung knew this didn’t mean Kikwang knew he’d been here for hours just about every day dancing until exhaustion sunk into his bones and he could hardly muster up the energy to collect himself from the floor; he was asking how, why, when did he decide not to give up? -Not just on dancing and his dream, but his life. (Because there was a time where Junhyung was on the verge of ending things once and for all and everyone could see it. The very basis of his existence had been torn from under him, and suddenly he felt himself falling apart. It was only a matter of time, but Junhyung was the last to notice.)
Junhyung lets his breathing even out a little more before he responds, grabbing his bottle of water from the floor and taking a large swig. ‘It’s all I have left,’ Junhyung tells him. And despite all of the hidden questions, he just can’t bring himself to acknowledge them. The poorly masked pain in Kikwang’s eyes does little to persuade him-this was a whole new level of unfamiliarity that Junhyung just wasn’t ready to deal with.
‘I’m sorry for taking up your practice time. I’ll be leaving now.’
A message from Yoseob:
are you on your way?
For once, there was no onslaught of emoticons or "ke"s. He probably anticipated just what Junhyung would think as he turns his phone over in his hands-once, twice-contemplating not even showing up; pretending as though he never got Yoseob’s message and simply forgot. It would be easy, he thinks. Much easier than this.
In the end, he replied with:
1 hour
He knew Yoseob would understand.
He thought about Kikwang-about the time they had taken the subway when they filmed one of their earliest reality shows, and Kikwang could hardly keep the smile off his face the entire time.
Junhyung’s not surprised that Kikwang was the only one to really survive in the industry. He may have flopped initially, but his stint with BEAST caused his popularity to soar even internationally, so starting out his solo career with a bang (as Kikwang this time and not as AJ) wasn’t as difficult as it had once seemed.
Junhyung pulled his phone out of his pocket again, locking it and unlocking it in his nervousness. He really just wanted to go home. However many months and years and days it had been would never be enough for this. The time on his phone read 5:56 PM. Junhyung felt a wave of nausea and panic wash over him and nearly jumped a foot in the air when his ring tone sounded loudly through the carriage.
‘Hyung told me to text you just in case, but I thought I’d call instead.’ Dongwoon’s voice sounds hollow through the phone line, but it has a nice sense of familiarity to Junhyung.
‘Just in case what?’
'In case you decided not to come.’ Junhyung choked back a sob at this, surprised how quickly he had been overcome by emotion. He settled for laughter instead. It was always easier to laugh than to cry.
‘Yah, I’m your hyung,’ Junhyung finally retorts when he thinks he has his emotions in check, ‘I’m supposed to watch out for you, not the other way around.’
But it had always been that way: Dongwoon trying his hardest to laugh and smile through their struggles. Junhyung remembers Dongwoon, tears sliding down his cheeks, grasping Junhyung’s hand as Joonkun informed them of the bad news. Their manager bowed low in apology and Dongwoon had wiped his own tears, grabbed Joonkun by the shoulders, and pulled him to stand straight. No words had been exchanged, but Junhyung got the feeling that probably meant more to Joonkun-more to BEAST-than anything ever would.
Even before then, Dongwoon had been somewhat of a pillar of strength to Junhyung in a way unlike any of the other members. He didn’t need to say anything to be of comfort to Junhyung; he just was. Sometimes it was something as simple as making room in Junhyung’s bed for himself, iPod in hand, and sliding one of the earphones into Junhyung’s ear. It was usually something upbeat instead of the slow, sad ballads the younger man often had plugged into his ears, but it lulled Junhyung to sleep all the same-aided by the warmth and proximity of Dongwoon’s body to his own.
Junhyung suspects maybe this was part of the reason he came unraveled so quickly. Dongwoon was like a loose nail that Junhyung got caught on-he became reliant of their proximity to help keep him together, forgetting how easy it would be to unhinge himself at any time. Instead, he remained hooked and the more distance he put between them, the more he fell apart.
‘Hyung?’
Junhyung jumped again, forgetting the phone was pressed to his ear. He glanced around to make sure no one had witnessed it (what did it matter, anyway?) before stuttering out a ‘ye-yeah’ back to Dongwoon.
‘Just checking,’ Dongwoon says, and then he hangs up.
Junhyung had never been one to be over-emotional; he left that to Kikwang and Dongwoon, for the most part. If he had his way, he’d stay on Hyunseung’s side of the fence-vacant and unemotional, even when he had every reason to cry-but he couldn’t. He was human, and being as such, emotion was something he couldn’t escape. He found himself caught up in it at the worst of times.
But Hyunseung wasn’t always so distant, so void of emotion. When Joonkun had given them the bad news, he’d been the first to break. Junhyung remembered watching as Hyunseung’s glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the cold floor. It was fitting, he thought, seeing as he himself had lost his grip on reality.
There was a time where he couldn’t remember Hyunseung’s smile; where the sound of his laugh was a vacant memory, and all he had left was a shell of what used to be.
Not long after Joonkun broke the news (two days later, in fact-hardly enough time for them to adjust to it themselves), the members were called to a meeting with Hong Seungsung and, almost immediately after, were to be rushed off to a press conference on the matter. That was what broke down the last of Hyunseung’s defences, Junhyung thought. Hyunseung had shouted at Seungsung and Joonkun for a long time and it had taken both Doojoon and Dongwoon to pull him from the room. He lashed out at them, too, picking out a few choice words to hurl in Doojoon’s ear. His hands grabbed at anything he could reach to throw at the (soon to be ex) CEO of Cube Entertainment.
By this time, Junhyung and the other members had moved out of the firing line and pressed themselves up against a bookshelf. Junhyung remembers the sound of shattering porcelain from somewhere before Dongwoon closed the door behind them on their way out. It was dead silent in the conference room. No one knew what to do or say. The news had obviously affected them all, but no one expected Hyunseung to react like that.
Doojoon returned a few minutes later and it was clear that he had been crying, but no one said a thing.
It was funny, most people would have expected crying to be one of the first things they did. Even as grown men, Junhyung was certain that it was expected of them-especially Kikwang. But for some reason or another, the tears had yet to come (at least, not publicly) for anyone but Dongwoon. There were a few half-assed attempts at making light of the situation, but no one was laughing. They still didn’t cry, though.
But it seemed Hyunseung’s outburst was the thing to open the floodgates. From the next conference room over, the sounds of Dongwoon shouting traveled through the walls. It was clear to Junhyung-to everyone-that he, too, was crying. ‘Get a grip! What the hell is wrong with you?’ No one so much as commented on the fact that he left off the honorifics, nor the fact that Dongwoon sounded near-hysterics himself.
Hyunseung must have replied then because Dongwoon’s voice had lowered a little. ‘I know, Hyunseung,’ he snapped. 'We’re all scared, okay. We’ve just got to ride this out.’
The words caused something in Yoseob to snap and he let out a small sob against Doojoon's back (whom he had moved to hug as soon as he returned to the room). It was a heartbreaking sound and Junhyung was having a hard time keeping his own emotions in check. Kikwang wasn’t faring any better.
It was the sound, the statement, to break BEAST-and Junhyung-once and for all.
And like that, tear-stained, exhausted, and miserable, they were hauled off to face the eyes of the public as BEAST one last time.
Junhyung stretched and groaned, pulling up the handle for his suitcase as the train approached his station. His heart was beating like crazy and in his mind was the thought that he could just not get off the train. It was all seeming like a bit too much after so long.
Yeah, he missed the past like crazy (not just the lifestyle, but the people. He missed Doojoon being there to wake them up on time and make sure they weren’t just eating ramen-with the exception of Kikwang, of course-for every meal. He missed Hyunseung’s habit of tuning out during conversation and then joining it again, pretending as though he knew exactly what was going on. He missed Yoseob’s ever-smiling face and those nights when he’d sit up with Junhyung so he could write lyrics-and even the nights when he wouldn’t. He missed Kikwang’s seemingly constant state of confusion and even his irritatingly stupid statements. He even missed Dongwoon’s restlessness and his habit of eating their entire supply of snacks within hours or even minutes with the help of Yoseob.
He missed having six other people to clean up after. He missed the adrenaline of being on stage, the tedious recording process, and the exhausting dance rehearsals. He even missed the quips about them being a "recycled" group), but the way Junhyung’s head was spinning as he stepped off the train made him reconsider.
For months after the press conference, Hyunseung was everyone’s main concern. He wasn’t eating right, sleeping right, and he rarely had the energy to pull himself out of bed. He slipped into depression so quickly and so badly that it almost seemed like there wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel. Even after the others had given up-claiming they’d done all they could and needed to get on with their lives (which they had)-Junhyung had remained by Hyunseung’s side.
Everyone had been so focused on themselves or Hyunseung that they hardly noticed Junhyung suffering almost as much, too stubborn to seek out help for himself. That was how Junhyung had slipped though the cracks for so long. It wasn’t until Junhyung had let himself into Hyunseung’s apartment one day to find him passed out in the kitchen-slouched against one of the cabinets with a bottle of wine in his left hand-and had to call Yoseob, that anyone noticed.
Hyunseung was so pale, so lifeless, and by the time Yoseob had made his way to Hyunseung’s apartment just a few minutes later, Junhyung had worked himself up into such a panicked state that Yoseob made him leave.
Junhyung sat outside for a while, wondering what Yoseob was doing and how Hyunseung was (‘what if he’s dead? Did I check his pulse? I didn’t check his pulse’) and drummed his fingers against the brick wall.
He didn’t know if Yoseob had called an ambulance or if he had managed to wake Hyunseung on his own because, when Yoseob found Junhyung sitting outside the apartment complex chewing anxiously on the filter of his lit cigarette, he gave him a pitying look. ‘You really need to get help,’ Yoseob told him.
Junhyung booked it down the street after that, ignoring Yoseob and his stupid ideas and he wasn’t even the one who needed help; that was Hyunseung.
Junhyung hadn’t been to Hyunseung’s apartment since then, let alone spoken to the older man. He ignored Yoseob’s calls for a month.
Junhyung was greeted with the sight of Doojoon when he made it to the escalator. Luckily, the station wasn’t busy, so no one paid any mind to him (nor do they pay any attention to Junhyung).
There was a long moment where they sort of just looked at each other until Junhyung tripped up as he stepped off the escalator. Doojoon let out a laugh and offered Junhyung a hand to steady himself, telling him that the others were waiting in the van. Doojoon insisted on carrying Junhyung’s bag for him and Junhyung couldn't help but feel like maybe it would be okay. If not, he was leaving tomorrow and wouldn’t have to give them as much as a thought for the next two years if he didn’t want to.
Even so, Junhyung couldn’t keep the words from spilling past his lips, babbling about nothing, as he and Doojoon navigated the streets to the van ('why the hell did you park so far away? Jesus.') Junhyung honestly had no idea why he was even worried in the first place. How different did if think it would be? This was Doojoon, the one they leant on when they needed some support; the one that tried his hardest to cater to his members' needs; the one who put everyone else before himself; the one who worked himself to the bone to make sure BEAST's name was known. He'd never let them drift apart the way Junhyung thought they had.
When he clambered into the van, Junhyung could tell. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and the way Yoseob’s face lit up as Junhyung sat down next to him made him think maybe he was the missing piece.
Surprisingly, there were no awkward silences or lapses in conversation. It was so comfortable and familiar to Junhyung that he could hardly believe they'd been split up for over a year-almost two now.
When Doojoon turned around in his seat and asked everyone to be quiet after a few minutes of catching up and aimless chattering, they listened. After so long, the fact that Doojoon could still act like the perfect leader astonished Junhyung.
He remembered how, on quite a few occasions, Doojoon had left to film something or other, so Junhyung had to stand up and act as leader in his absence. Of course, back then Junhyung used to brag and say that he should have been the leader; he did a better job of it, anyway. (Which was entirely untrue; Junhyung just liked to think he could have been as good a leader as Doojoon.)
In retrospect, it was clear the role was-and always had been-Doojoon’s to fill. Junhyung was certain that if it had been he who tried to quiet a rowdy group of twenty-something-year-olds, it would have had the opposite effect. But here, even with Doojoon’s (more or less) relinquished leadership powers, he still managed it.
‘If I had wine, I’d make a toast of it, but it’s not the smartest idea when I’m about to be driving-’
Yoseob responds with a ‘hear, hear’ and from behind them, Kikwang reaches over the seat to whack him upside the head (‘too early, idiot’).
‘-but I just wanted to say congratulations and good luck-to Hyunseung on his engagement and Junhyung on his enlistment… and to the six of us for making it so far!’
There was a silence for a minute or two until Doojoon said something along the lines of ‘now there’s to be no more of this sentimental crap until tomorrow afternoon’, started the van, and pulled out of the side street. Then it was business as usual.
Hyunseung was busy telling Kikwang about how he’d put down the first payment for a little dance studio in town where he planned to teach lessons, so Junhyung left it to Yoseob and Dongwoon (with the occasional comment from Doojoon) to fill him in on everything that had happened over the past two years.
When Dongwoon told him that Hyunseung’s fiancé was a Japanese girl he’d met some way or another, it hit him like a ton of bricks-the realisation that he had missed so much and for what reason? Because he was scared and ashamed and selfish. When he felt tears pricking in his eyes, Junhyung had to blink them away and smile like he was truly thrilled that Dongwoon had a movie coming out soon that he’d directed (and he was thrilled, but crying about it seemed stupid).
There was so much catching up to do in so little time and Junhyung couldn’t help but regret the way he’d wasted the last year. Sure, BEAST was long gone, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t keep in contact.
(‘Goodbye doesn’t mean forever,’ Doojoon had said to him the following afternoon. ‘Just because you’re enlisting doesn’t mean you can go all incommunicado on us again.’
Junhyung promised that wouldn’t happen.)
Poll Round 5: One Last Time
Team: Future
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BEAST
Pairing: OT6
Summary: When BEAST disbands, Junhyung feels like his whole world is falling apart around him.
Author's Note: I pretty much gave up in the end thus the generic summary and title. Sorry.
Prompt Used: MBLAQ - Stay (I meant to base this off the first supplementary prompt, but it sort of had a mind of its own in the end so I’m not sure that it fits.)
It was uncomfortably warm in the underground subway station, which confused Junhyung because the last time he had ridden the train, it was bitterly cold. It was a week, maybe two, after their disbandment and he’d been traveling to and from the dorm collecting things, saying his goodbyes, and finalising documents. Junhyung almost felt like laughing when he realised how long it had been. He hadn’t felt quite so alone in their disbandment-not because of the other members, but more because so many other groups had disbanded around the same time. There was no room for smaller companies these days, anyway, but Cube was still one of the last to go. It didn’t make him any less miserable, though.
There had been offers to move the entire group over to JYP, but group funding was scarce with the two new rookie groups the company had put out, as well as the large group of new trainees, so that was the end of BEAST.
Six years, ten months, and seventeen days of his life had suddenly ended, leaving him stranded-both literally and figuratively-in a big city with no job and no place to call home. The temporary accommodation was just that-temporary, and they were only paid wages to cover another three months until the end of their respective contracts.
Somehow, Junhyung had found himself joining JYP as a soloist (where the logic was in that strategy, Junhyung would never know), but it didn’t last long. He released one single and then slipped of the radar entirely. The company suggested he enlist in the army and then try again in two years.
It was a nice way of saying that there was nothing more they could do for him and his career.
It was no surprise to anyone when Doojoon became a regular on variety shows, dabbling in a bit of acting on the side, and taking over Eunhyuk’s position as an MC on Star King. Kikwang was quick to re-sign with JYP as a soloist, making money from commercials and variety appearances to cover his promotions for the time being. Hyunseung slipped back into the population unnoticed by most, but it wasn’t long before he fell into depression. Yoseob was a regular on many variety shows and worked as a vocal coach for new trainees. Dongwoon, as suggested by one of his ex-university professors, ended up spending more time behind the camera than in front of it, trying his hand at producing and directing.
And Junhyung… Junhyung tried, he really did, but his life seemed to fall apart without his status as an idol; a celebrity. To be thrust into the real world so suddenly was rather frightening to say the least.
It had been a lot longer than he’d thought. The memories of that day-watching as Joonkun’s brow crinkled in worry and anger and apology-were vivid as ever; no more that a week old in his mind. He could still recall the amount of times "I’m sorry" had slipped from their manager’s lips as though it were any fault of his. Junhyung suspected that Joonkun’s anger came not from the disbandment, but from the fact that he was forced to be the messenger.
Yoseob was now somewhere in the middle of preparations for his first album as a soloist (for which he had begged Junhyung to write lyrics, but to no avail), but he still made the effort to call Junhyung once a fortnight at the very least, just to make sure.
Yoseob didn’t admit it to the older man for fear of further injuring his pride, but he was worried-especially after Junhyung’s career as a soloist had flopped. He’d stopped writing lyrics and, the last time Yoseob had visited, Junhyung’s apartment had been a mess and barely contained enough food to sustain a person for a day. He worried that maybe next time he visited, the elder would be a pile of skin and bones buried under rubble and week-old pizza in his living room.
‘Fifteen months,’ Yoseob had told him over the phone. Fifteen months. ‘But I’m okay. It’s been a while, huh?’ One year, three months. ‘Hopefully it all works out for us.’ Four hundred and-how many days?
He wanted to tell Yoseob all sorts of things-I miss looking through Hyunseung’s Japanese fashion magazines; I get lonely when I can’t sleep; I can’t write lyrics without you here-but he didn’t. He kept these things to himself because, after fifteen months, it didn’t even seem to matter anymore. He doubted Yoseob would come racing to see him just to cheer him up and tell him it will all get better.
Instead he says: ‘good luck with your solo album. It’s coming out soon, right?’
Yoseob was quiet for a few minutes, and Junhyung would have thought the younger had hung up on him if it weren’t for the quiet, controlled breathing passing through the phone line. He knew that was Yoseob’s way of coping; just breathe.
‘Yeah,’ he says finally. ‘Well, not that soon-August, they’re saying at the moment. I’m going to keep mentoring and vocal coaching between now and then. But… I hear you’re going to the army soon?’
‘How did you-’
‘Kikwang told me. That they’re, you know, trying to make it seem as though your promotions weren’t a total flop or something; so they have something else to blame your slipping out of the public eye on-but that’s just what Kikwang tells me.’
Junhyung sighed. ‘That’s pretty much it. It was a mutual understanding, though.’
He didn’t keep in touch with Kikwang often. Most of what he heard about him was through Yoseob or occasionally through Doojoon. It was difficult, anyway, with Kikwang's hectic schedule. The only way Yoseob spoke to him was by calling his mobile relentlessly, and he knew Doojoon only knew what he knew through appearances on shows.
He ran into him one day-by chance, really. One of the benefits of being a former artist was that he was now free to come and go as he pleased in terms of the practice rooms, so he often found himself wandering in at all hours just to dance and dance and dance.
(He’d never admit it, but usually by the end he’d find himself a broken mess of bones and muscle and tears on the floor, grabbing at everything and anything that might make him feel whole again-but that’s a different story.)
Junhyung was the type of person to counter pain with more pain, even on the emotional side of things. So, to counter the pain he’d been feeling at the loss of security, his band mates-his life-Junhyung had taken to putting in his earphones (he’d never dare play it aloud) and dancing through their last single as BEAST from start to finish. When things got tough, this was how he coped-it was the only way he knew how.
It wasn’t uncommon for Junhyung to find himself being asked to leave one of the practice rooms when rehearsals were schedule, but never was it by the artists themselves. These days, there was always a team ready and set up before anyone important so much as set foot in the room-except, of course, Kikwang. He was always an exception-to Doojoon’s rules, to the rules of emceeing, and even to quite a few of the rules set down by Cube. He had this peculiar way of worming his way into everyone’s heart (some people taking more time than others) and getting them to bend the rules and even respond to his every beck and call.
So it was a shock, but of no real surprise, when he locked eyes with Kikwang in the mirror. Junhyung stopped abruptly mid-turn, standing stock-still (save his laboured breathing) as he observed the face reflected in the door frame. Kikwang had said something, but Junhyung had to pull his earphone out and ask him to repeat it.
‘Still going after all this time?’
Junhyung knew this didn’t mean Kikwang knew he’d been here for hours just about every day dancing until exhaustion sunk into his bones and he could hardly muster up the energy to collect himself from the floor; he was asking how, why, when did he decide not to give up? -Not just on dancing and his dream, but his life. (Because there was a time where Junhyung was on the verge of ending things once and for all and everyone could see it. The very basis of his existence had been torn from under him, and suddenly he felt himself falling apart. It was only a matter of time, but Junhyung was the last to notice.)
Junhyung lets his breathing even out a little more before he responds, grabbing his bottle of water from the floor and taking a large swig. ‘It’s all I have left,’ Junhyung tells him. And despite all of the hidden questions, he just can’t bring himself to acknowledge them. The poorly masked pain in Kikwang’s eyes does little to persuade him-this was a whole new level of unfamiliarity that Junhyung just wasn’t ready to deal with.
‘I’m sorry for taking up your practice time. I’ll be leaving now.’
A message from Yoseob:
are you on your way?
For once, there was no onslaught of emoticons or "ke"s. He probably anticipated just what Junhyung would think as he turns his phone over in his hands-once, twice-contemplating not even showing up; pretending as though he never got Yoseob’s message and simply forgot. It would be easy, he thinks. Much easier than this.
In the end, he replied with:
1 hour
He knew Yoseob would understand.
He thought about Kikwang-about the time they had taken the subway when they filmed one of their earliest reality shows, and Kikwang could hardly keep the smile off his face the entire time.
Junhyung’s not surprised that Kikwang was the only one to really survive in the industry. He may have flopped initially, but his stint with BEAST caused his popularity to soar even internationally, so starting out his solo career with a bang (as Kikwang this time and not as AJ) wasn’t as difficult as it had once seemed.
Junhyung pulled his phone out of his pocket again, locking it and unlocking it in his nervousness. He really just wanted to go home. However many months and years and days it had been would never be enough for this. The time on his phone read 5:56 PM. Junhyung felt a wave of nausea and panic wash over him and nearly jumped a foot in the air when his ring tone sounded loudly through the carriage.
‘Hyung told me to text you just in case, but I thought I’d call instead.’ Dongwoon’s voice sounds hollow through the phone line, but it has a nice sense of familiarity to Junhyung.
‘Just in case what?’
'In case you decided not to come.’ Junhyung choked back a sob at this, surprised how quickly he had been overcome by emotion. He settled for laughter instead. It was always easier to laugh than to cry.
‘Yah, I’m your hyung,’ Junhyung finally retorts when he thinks he has his emotions in check, ‘I’m supposed to watch out for you, not the other way around.’
But it had always been that way: Dongwoon trying his hardest to laugh and smile through their struggles. Junhyung remembers Dongwoon, tears sliding down his cheeks, grasping Junhyung’s hand as Joonkun informed them of the bad news. Their manager bowed low in apology and Dongwoon had wiped his own tears, grabbed Joonkun by the shoulders, and pulled him to stand straight. No words had been exchanged, but Junhyung got the feeling that probably meant more to Joonkun-more to BEAST-than anything ever would.
Even before then, Dongwoon had been somewhat of a pillar of strength to Junhyung in a way unlike any of the other members. He didn’t need to say anything to be of comfort to Junhyung; he just was. Sometimes it was something as simple as making room in Junhyung’s bed for himself, iPod in hand, and sliding one of the earphones into Junhyung’s ear. It was usually something upbeat instead of the slow, sad ballads the younger man often had plugged into his ears, but it lulled Junhyung to sleep all the same-aided by the warmth and proximity of Dongwoon’s body to his own.
Junhyung suspects maybe this was part of the reason he came unraveled so quickly. Dongwoon was like a loose nail that Junhyung got caught on-he became reliant of their proximity to help keep him together, forgetting how easy it would be to unhinge himself at any time. Instead, he remained hooked and the more distance he put between them, the more he fell apart.
‘Hyung?’
Junhyung jumped again, forgetting the phone was pressed to his ear. He glanced around to make sure no one had witnessed it (what did it matter, anyway?) before stuttering out a ‘ye-yeah’ back to Dongwoon.
‘Just checking,’ Dongwoon says, and then he hangs up.
Junhyung had never been one to be over-emotional; he left that to Kikwang and Dongwoon, for the most part. If he had his way, he’d stay on Hyunseung’s side of the fence-vacant and unemotional, even when he had every reason to cry-but he couldn’t. He was human, and being as such, emotion was something he couldn’t escape. He found himself caught up in it at the worst of times.
But Hyunseung wasn’t always so distant, so void of emotion. When Joonkun had given them the bad news, he’d been the first to break. Junhyung remembered watching as Hyunseung’s glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the cold floor. It was fitting, he thought, seeing as he himself had lost his grip on reality.
There was a time where he couldn’t remember Hyunseung’s smile; where the sound of his laugh was a vacant memory, and all he had left was a shell of what used to be.
Not long after Joonkun broke the news (two days later, in fact-hardly enough time for them to adjust to it themselves), the members were called to a meeting with Hong Seungsung and, almost immediately after, were to be rushed off to a press conference on the matter. That was what broke down the last of Hyunseung’s defences, Junhyung thought. Hyunseung had shouted at Seungsung and Joonkun for a long time and it had taken both Doojoon and Dongwoon to pull him from the room. He lashed out at them, too, picking out a few choice words to hurl in Doojoon’s ear. His hands grabbed at anything he could reach to throw at the (soon to be ex) CEO of Cube Entertainment.
By this time, Junhyung and the other members had moved out of the firing line and pressed themselves up against a bookshelf. Junhyung remembers the sound of shattering porcelain from somewhere before Dongwoon closed the door behind them on their way out. It was dead silent in the conference room. No one knew what to do or say. The news had obviously affected them all, but no one expected Hyunseung to react like that.
Doojoon returned a few minutes later and it was clear that he had been crying, but no one said a thing.
It was funny, most people would have expected crying to be one of the first things they did. Even as grown men, Junhyung was certain that it was expected of them-especially Kikwang. But for some reason or another, the tears had yet to come (at least, not publicly) for anyone but Dongwoon. There were a few half-assed attempts at making light of the situation, but no one was laughing. They still didn’t cry, though.
But it seemed Hyunseung’s outburst was the thing to open the floodgates. From the next conference room over, the sounds of Dongwoon shouting traveled through the walls. It was clear to Junhyung-to everyone-that he, too, was crying. ‘Get a grip! What the hell is wrong with you?’ No one so much as commented on the fact that he left off the honorifics, nor the fact that Dongwoon sounded near-hysterics himself.
Hyunseung must have replied then because Dongwoon’s voice had lowered a little. ‘I know, Hyunseung,’ he snapped. 'We’re all scared, okay. We’ve just got to ride this out.’
The words caused something in Yoseob to snap and he let out a small sob against Doojoon's back (whom he had moved to hug as soon as he returned to the room). It was a heartbreaking sound and Junhyung was having a hard time keeping his own emotions in check. Kikwang wasn’t faring any better.
It was the sound, the statement, to break BEAST-and Junhyung-once and for all.
And like that, tear-stained, exhausted, and miserable, they were hauled off to face the eyes of the public as BEAST one last time.
Junhyung stretched and groaned, pulling up the handle for his suitcase as the train approached his station. His heart was beating like crazy and in his mind was the thought that he could just not get off the train. It was all seeming like a bit too much after so long.
Yeah, he missed the past like crazy (not just the lifestyle, but the people. He missed Doojoon being there to wake them up on time and make sure they weren’t just eating ramen-with the exception of Kikwang, of course-for every meal. He missed Hyunseung’s habit of tuning out during conversation and then joining it again, pretending as though he knew exactly what was going on. He missed Yoseob’s ever-smiling face and those nights when he’d sit up with Junhyung so he could write lyrics-and even the nights when he wouldn’t. He missed Kikwang’s seemingly constant state of confusion and even his irritatingly stupid statements. He even missed Dongwoon’s restlessness and his habit of eating their entire supply of snacks within hours or even minutes with the help of Yoseob.
He missed having six other people to clean up after. He missed the adrenaline of being on stage, the tedious recording process, and the exhausting dance rehearsals. He even missed the quips about them being a "recycled" group), but the way Junhyung’s head was spinning as he stepped off the train made him reconsider.
For months after the press conference, Hyunseung was everyone’s main concern. He wasn’t eating right, sleeping right, and he rarely had the energy to pull himself out of bed. He slipped into depression so quickly and so badly that it almost seemed like there wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel. Even after the others had given up-claiming they’d done all they could and needed to get on with their lives (which they had)-Junhyung had remained by Hyunseung’s side.
Everyone had been so focused on themselves or Hyunseung that they hardly noticed Junhyung suffering almost as much, too stubborn to seek out help for himself. That was how Junhyung had slipped though the cracks for so long. It wasn’t until Junhyung had let himself into Hyunseung’s apartment one day to find him passed out in the kitchen-slouched against one of the cabinets with a bottle of wine in his left hand-and had to call Yoseob, that anyone noticed.
Hyunseung was so pale, so lifeless, and by the time Yoseob had made his way to Hyunseung’s apartment just a few minutes later, Junhyung had worked himself up into such a panicked state that Yoseob made him leave.
Junhyung sat outside for a while, wondering what Yoseob was doing and how Hyunseung was (‘what if he’s dead? Did I check his pulse? I didn’t check his pulse’) and drummed his fingers against the brick wall.
He didn’t know if Yoseob had called an ambulance or if he had managed to wake Hyunseung on his own because, when Yoseob found Junhyung sitting outside the apartment complex chewing anxiously on the filter of his lit cigarette, he gave him a pitying look. ‘You really need to get help,’ Yoseob told him.
Junhyung booked it down the street after that, ignoring Yoseob and his stupid ideas and he wasn’t even the one who needed help; that was Hyunseung.
Junhyung hadn’t been to Hyunseung’s apartment since then, let alone spoken to the older man. He ignored Yoseob’s calls for a month.
Junhyung was greeted with the sight of Doojoon when he made it to the escalator. Luckily, the station wasn’t busy, so no one paid any mind to him (nor do they pay any attention to Junhyung).
There was a long moment where they sort of just looked at each other until Junhyung tripped up as he stepped off the escalator. Doojoon let out a laugh and offered Junhyung a hand to steady himself, telling him that the others were waiting in the van. Doojoon insisted on carrying Junhyung’s bag for him and Junhyung couldn't help but feel like maybe it would be okay. If not, he was leaving tomorrow and wouldn’t have to give them as much as a thought for the next two years if he didn’t want to.
Even so, Junhyung couldn’t keep the words from spilling past his lips, babbling about nothing, as he and Doojoon navigated the streets to the van ('why the hell did you park so far away? Jesus.') Junhyung honestly had no idea why he was even worried in the first place. How different did if think it would be? This was Doojoon, the one they leant on when they needed some support; the one that tried his hardest to cater to his members' needs; the one who put everyone else before himself; the one who worked himself to the bone to make sure BEAST's name was known. He'd never let them drift apart the way Junhyung thought they had.
When he clambered into the van, Junhyung could tell. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and the way Yoseob’s face lit up as Junhyung sat down next to him made him think maybe he was the missing piece.
Surprisingly, there were no awkward silences or lapses in conversation. It was so comfortable and familiar to Junhyung that he could hardly believe they'd been split up for over a year-almost two now.
When Doojoon turned around in his seat and asked everyone to be quiet after a few minutes of catching up and aimless chattering, they listened. After so long, the fact that Doojoon could still act like the perfect leader astonished Junhyung.
He remembered how, on quite a few occasions, Doojoon had left to film something or other, so Junhyung had to stand up and act as leader in his absence. Of course, back then Junhyung used to brag and say that he should have been the leader; he did a better job of it, anyway. (Which was entirely untrue; Junhyung just liked to think he could have been as good a leader as Doojoon.)
In retrospect, it was clear the role was-and always had been-Doojoon’s to fill. Junhyung was certain that if it had been he who tried to quiet a rowdy group of twenty-something-year-olds, it would have had the opposite effect. But here, even with Doojoon’s (more or less) relinquished leadership powers, he still managed it.
‘If I had wine, I’d make a toast of it, but it’s not the smartest idea when I’m about to be driving-’
Yoseob responds with a ‘hear, hear’ and from behind them, Kikwang reaches over the seat to whack him upside the head (‘too early, idiot’).
‘-but I just wanted to say congratulations and good luck-to Hyunseung on his engagement and Junhyung on his enlistment… and to the six of us for making it so far!’
There was a silence for a minute or two until Doojoon said something along the lines of ‘now there’s to be no more of this sentimental crap until tomorrow afternoon’, started the van, and pulled out of the side street. Then it was business as usual.
Hyunseung was busy telling Kikwang about how he’d put down the first payment for a little dance studio in town where he planned to teach lessons, so Junhyung left it to Yoseob and Dongwoon (with the occasional comment from Doojoon) to fill him in on everything that had happened over the past two years.
When Dongwoon told him that Hyunseung’s fiancé was a Japanese girl he’d met some way or another, it hit him like a ton of bricks-the realisation that he had missed so much and for what reason? Because he was scared and ashamed and selfish. When he felt tears pricking in his eyes, Junhyung had to blink them away and smile like he was truly thrilled that Dongwoon had a movie coming out soon that he’d directed (and he was thrilled, but crying about it seemed stupid).
There was so much catching up to do in so little time and Junhyung couldn’t help but regret the way he’d wasted the last year. Sure, BEAST was long gone, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t keep in contact.
(‘Goodbye doesn’t mean forever,’ Doojoon had said to him the following afternoon. ‘Just because you’re enlisting doesn’t mean you can go all incommunicado on us again.’
Junhyung promised that wouldn’t happen.)
Poll Round 5: One Last Time