gone with the wind.
i.
chills run up his spine; a result of the freezing wind blowing in big gusts all around him. the snow crunching and melting underneath his boots is of no help to him whatsoever.
“you knew she was going to be late and yet you still dragged me out here to wait for her, half an hour before she’ll show up? asshole. that’s what you are, seungho - an asshole.” byunghee’s eyebrows furrow in frustration as his friend simply laughs it off with a flap of his hand, dark circles disappearing momentarily into the crescent moons that are his eyes.
although byunghee continues to fume silently, seungho knows a question is on the tip of his friend’s tongue (waiting to fall, but he’s sure byunghee won’t allow it to at this point) so he simply proceeds. “aren’t you going to ask where injung met this girl she’s bringing along?”
byunghee doesn’t respond but that’s the only invitation seungho needs. “you see, injung has this friend, who has a cousin, who has a teacher, with a daughter, whose daughter babysits for this family, who has a - “
“ - gardener, who got arrested by a cop, who has a niece? i know the drill by now, seungho,” remarks byunghee sarcastically, rubbing his hands together for warmth. he’s about to rant again about how idiotic his friend is but he is silenced by a clatter of footsteps.
“i’m sorry we kept you waiting!” says injung, loudly and enthusiastically, as she always does. she whips off her beanie and fans herself with it. the cold weather doesn’t seem to affect her enough. a girl stands behind her, masked by the shadows. “oh, how dumb of me. this here is jooyeon.”
injung gently nudges the girl forward with a waggle of her eyebrows at byunghee.
she - jooyeon - gazes at him carefully from underneath ebony eyelashes, cheekbones elevated by a slight smile. her pale fingers, sheathed by a pair of purple gloves, graze the material of her coat. “hello, I’m jooyeon. it’s really nice to meet you.”
“i’m byunghee.”
(maybe injung isn’t that much of an idiot after all but seungho still is.)
ii.
“why won’t seungho let injung know that he likes her?” jooyeon says, out of the blue, when she and byunghee are walking in an isolated park at 6.30 am on a sunday morning; the reason simply being that they don’t need one.
byunghee’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “how do you know seungho likes her?” he questions, kicking at the small pebbles with his feet as they continue their slow stroll down the dirt lanes.
she grins at him. “i’m a girl - do the math.” her fingers dance over the petals of the flowers (fluttering like pastel butterflies that byunghee would love to catch and hold close to him) that bloom brilliantly in the early spring air. “i feel sorry for them, though. they don’t know how they exactly feel about each other.”
“do you?” byunghee suddenly blurts out, and he notices a sea of pink exploding over her cheeks. jooyeon mutters, “what do you mean?”
all of a sudden, he feels as shy as a silly schoolboy and he laughs out loud at the thought. “all i’m saying is that i like you, jooyeon. i like you a lot.” this he finds a lot simpler to say, and if she knows him that well, she’ll understand that this means more than anything else he could’ve said.
her mouth opens and closes like a fish’s, before he catches her startled lips in his and forcefully buries her hands into his jacket pockets. somehow - to them - the flowers appear brighter, the grass greener and the sky even bluer than it already is.
people in love see things that way. they don’t know if they’re a part of those people but they feel like it, so they play along.
iii.
the air-conditioner’s broken so the summer heat isn’t quenched. sweat is trickling down his back in a speed that could rival changsun’s sprinting but byunghee keeps his eyes glued to the tv.
“she looks good,” seungho comments, popping open a can of beer and downing half of it in one solitary gulp. he glances sideways at byunghee, but his friend ignores him (his hold on the remote is a tad too tight and his eyes are a little too hard) and fixes his glare on the television screen.
a long silence intoxicates the room. “you don’t have to torture yourself this way,” mutters seungho quietly, standing up to throw away the empty can of beer. when byunghee does answer, his tone is flat. “i know. but she’s my friend. it’s my job to support her.”
“it’s not your jo - “
byunghee interjects harshly, “it’s something i have to do, okay? like i said, she’s my friend and i’m going to support her. back the fuck off.” emitting a defeated sigh, his band mate eventually leaves the room. hesitance colors his features but he eventually grabs his phone and begins to type out a text message.
hey, i was watching you on - erase.
you looked - erase.
jupal, you’re - erase.
i love you.
exactly seventy-two seconds later, his phone lights up with a new message.
i know. i’m sorry.
iv.
“are you alright?” kahi asks uncertainly, standing in the doorway. she glances at jooyeon with a half-smile. “yup,” jooyeon mumbles, looking out the window. it’s fall, so brown leaves are dropping from branches and everything looks dry. dead.
the older woman flips her glossy brown hair over her shoulder. “mblaq debuted today, huh?”
jooyeon nods, an odd sense of pride tinging her words. “and a pretty good debut it was, too. i’m really happy for byung - g.o.” their eyes meet. kahi’s message is evident (don’t lie, i’m way older than you, i know how to tape together a broken heart more than you do) but she just diverts her focus elsewhere.
“i know you don’t like us to ask, but - “
kahi cuts her off. “he was the only one who called me jiyoung. no one else did. i’m kahi now, and i always have been and always will be, unless he’s factored into the equation. things don’t look like they’re gonna work out for him, though, so i’m just kahi. do you get it?”
strangely enough, jooyeon does. “was it love for you and him? yoochun?” it’s the first time that she dares to say his name aloud but kahi doesn’t even flinch (her breath catches in her throat for a split second but that’s nothing) as she replies curtly, “take a wild guess.” she turns on her heel and walks away.
(“congrats on your debut. i’m really proud of you,” says jooyeon softly, clutching her cell phone to her ear. byunghee - no, g.o - chuckles. “it’s been a while since i’ve made you proud. thanks, though, jooyeon-ah. hey, i have to go. i’ll see you soon.”
i’ll miss you. i still do.
but there’s nothing you can do about it. nothing we can do about it.)
v.
it’s winter again the next time they meet. they share a few smiles, laughter and a sprinkling of stories from the past (seungho and soyeon attempt to make conversation but it eventually goes back to how’s your mom? so they know it’s the end of the road for them) and they’re pleasantly surprised by how natural it seems.
“maybe what we had wasn’t meant for us. this…this is good. being friends is good,” asserts g.o, somewhat awkwardly, but then that familiar grin of his appears and jooyeon just wants to cry because he’s finally here.
she agrees. “being friends is good.” and they shake hands on it.
now that we’re friends, can you give me my heart back?
i need something to hold onto, now that you’re gone.