just a little befuddled.
the stars shine like light bulbs against the bruised blue-black night; the horns and honks of multiple vehicles blare below, loud and piercing. it's nighttime, supposedly the ending of the day, but in seoul, nighttime is when everything comes alive, when everybody sets themselves free and comes out to play.
although changmin doubts being sprawled on a balcony getting drunk on his own is a good way to spend his night.
they have a comeback coming up. they’ll be performing and glaring at cameras and giving award acceptance speeches all over again (it won’t be the same when it’s only two of what used to be five, what used to be a group of brothers) but he’s not that excited, so he opts to get wasted instead.
four hours into the night only did they stop practicing, leaving him and yunho jaded and wondering just what the hell are they doing this for other than materials and money - things that that matter to other people but have ceased to matter to them.
(their hearts aren’t in it anymore and haven’t been for so long; stopped being in it when it became too superficial and too pecuniary, when it stopped being about joy and brotherhood and pure music. but does it mean that it stopped when it first began?)
“oh, oh, sorry - i'm sorry, changmin-oppa - um, changmin-sunbae.”
he is startled out of his miserable reverie by yoona, flustered and embarrassed, trying to close the glass doors leading to the balcony in vain as the sleeve of her shirt catches on the latch. he spots the bottle of soju in her hand and smirks. “hey, yoona? just come out here and drink with me.”
wrinkles crease her forehead as she hesitates, lips jutting out in a reluctant pout and changmin thinks that this girl, although they don’t really talk much, is actually pretty cute.
“uh, sure.”
changmin scoots over closer toward the railings to make room in the minute space for both of them. she sits down next to him awkwardly, hugging her knees to her chest. all of a sudden, the oxygen seems to have deteriorated; the place appears to be too small to contain both of them.
it’s only the awkwardness, he reminds himself so as not to feel too guilty about secretly enjoying it. “so, do you always come out here? it’s good to be alone sometimes. nobody ever thinks of looking for me here. i can think and mope in peace.”
yoona nods, maintaining a small, polite smile on her pretty (he always thought jessica was the prettiest, but then again he’s never been this close to yoona before) little face, her fingers tightening around the bottle of liquor she brings with her.
“you know, you might as well admit that you came out here to see me and that the soju is just a decoy since you don’t seem to be planning on drinking it.”
it’s a lame statement that reeks of cheesiness on his behalf, but changmin is pleasantly surprised when she begins to giggle. he admires how she isn’t afraid to laugh with her mouth wide open; teeth sparkling and eyes curving into crescent moons.
“just so you know, i’m going to drink now.”
“good.”
yoona uncaps the bottle with quick ease and begins to gulp it down. he couldn’t help but notice how hard she swallows the sweet liquid, her eyes scrunching up as if in pain (maybe this is her method of washing it away; he doesn’t know) and her hands unconsciously balling up into fists.
“be caref - “
his warning is left unfinished as she slams the empty bottle down onto the worn floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. admittedly, changmin is a bit worried by the fire in her eyes, gradually dying and dying until all that’s left is two pools of dark brown; crinkling up with a smile when necessary.
“hey...are you okay?”
she breathes hard and murmurs, “you have no idea just how good that feels.” he chuckles shortly, which causes yoona to glance at him in confusion. “sorry,” he apologizes, “but that’s where you’re wrong. i know exactly just how good that feels. don’t forget, hoobae - i’ve spent a lot more time on this balcony than you.”
she scoffs but shakes her head good-naturedly.
"the company’s not giving you guys a follow-up song. that's a first."
“yeah.”
in the glow of the minimal light, changmin takes a closer and probably first proper look of yoona. she is pretty (beautiful, even; divine, even), but more than anything, she’s exhausted and he’s seen enough to know that she isn’t physically worn out.
“being an idol sucks, huh?”
her lips part as if she wishes to argue but she knows the secrets and pain and has seen too much, so she agrees with no hesitation. “it has its perks, but more than anything - yeah. it pretty much sucks. especially for me.”
“i don’t know what being ‘center’ feels like, but i get you.”
she smiles at him, then looks back at her feet. “nobody really understands how hard it is for us. f(x) hasn’t had a taste of it yet, and I hope they won’t.” her words ooze sincerity, and changmin finds himself strangely touched by how much she cares.
silence fills the gap between them, and he has this sudden urge to replace it with anything. it’s almost unstoppable as his hands reach toward her and rest awkwardly on her cheek. he feels her stiffen under his abrupt touch, but he is reassured when she seems to relax immediately after.
in movies or dramas (or real life, or between yunho and boa or siwon and tiffany or minho and yuri), the guy would kiss the girl, but this isn’t any drama. if he kisses her, he wouldn’t only replace taeyeon as resident pervert of sm - she probably won’t even speak to him again.
thus, with much obscured regret, changmin pulls his hand away.
yoona doesn’t know if she should feel disappointed, but she decides that it’s time for her to leave. “you know, i think i should go now,” she begins, getting up and grabbing her bottle off the floor. in many aspects, he is worried that he has stepped on a crack, but changmin grins at her anyway.
“alright. it's been good, yoona."
“yeah. thank you, changmin-oppa.”
“no problem.”
she walks as far as the screen doors before turning toward him and flashing him a smile. “i guess i’ll see you here tomorrow.”
changmin laughs (he is relieved, so relieved, so glad that he’s been handed her trust).
“i guess you will."
a/n: dedicated to aoza!