Smokescreen (Key & CL)
Smokescreen
Key & CL
These days they share more than just cigarettes.
smokescreen
Boy we've had a real good time
And I wish you the best on your way.
Lady GaGa; Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)
If anyone asks him now, he won’t remember how it started. Maybe someone had a pack, and the other had the lighter - doesn’t matter who had what, either. Kibum doesn’t put stock into unnecessary details. But she’s more chingu than noona neomu yeppeo, so he trusts her. CL isn’t the sort to tattle. That, and she lets him keep the cigarettes if he asks nicely.
She’s unpretty, but not in a manner that is entirely unpleasant. She watches him with a vaguely unimpressed expression when he chokes on the first cigarette of the evening. “If you can’t handle it,” she says, “I’ll have that.”
“Go away,” Kibum says cleverly. The corners of her lips quirk upwards, and it’s not the angry little smirk he’s used to seeing in her performances. The shades disguise her eyes, but the rest of CL is far from hidden. Kibum thinks, sometimes, that he knows her better than a lot of people.
“Hello, hello,” she responds smoothly, a tune to her words. “At least share.”
They’re not the closest of friends, and it’s comfortable because they never have to pretend that they are. It’s usually just the narrow passage behind the broadcasting station, a shared cigarette caught between slim fingers, and them. They don’t plan these meetings - it could have been a few months ago that he’s last seen her, or it could be as recent as last week. It doesn’t matter. Her heels dig into the wet grass as he leans against the whitewashed walls. CL keeps the stick away from her white fur jacket as the smoke fills the air. 2NE1 fashion, Kibum thinks with a snort. Always overdramatic.
“Nice sunglasses,” he says instead, after she steals a smoke from between his fingers.
CL looks as though she wants to return the compliment, but she only gives him a once-over and keeps her mouth shut. Kibum isn’t interested in bitching about SHINee’s stylists again, so he ignores her. He’s had enough beef with his team that afternoon.
“I lent you my shirt. The Jeremy Scott,” she says then. Exhales. CL’s voice is a slight rasp today. Kibum could catch a sore throat from her, but he doesn’t really care. It’s not like SHINee isn’t already fucked with the kind of schedules that they have. He watches her carefully, admires the Ray-ban sunglasses as it glints in the fading daylight before she catches his attention again with the lilt of her words - “but you didn’t even wear it, did you.”
“Well, ma’am, Jjong thanks you.” CL huffs at his lack of apology. “I had one, I needed another for him. Couple shirts, you understand.”
If she catches the bitterness in his words, she doesn’t show it. Instead, CL only contemplates him for a moment, unblinking behind the dim of her shades. “What,” she says finally, “is going on.”
Kibum shrugs, stares up at a dulling sky. CL sighs. “SM Town,” she murmurs. “I never know what the hell is up. Have you heard from Amber-ssi?”
Kibum raises an eyebrow at her, and CL smiles oddly. “I only ask because my maknae is friends with her. I know people have seen her around. But have you?”
“No.” Kibum tries to tell himself that he doesn’t care, but it feels thick in his throat somehow, the idea that he might have lost Amber and the fact that he’s somehow lost Jonghyun. “I think the company hates me. It’s like they make it their mission to take everything I care about.” The words sound childish even to his ears, but Kibum doesn’t care. “But maybe Amber left because she wanted to. Maybe Jonghyun dates because he wants to. Who fucking knows anymore, they don’t tell me shit.”
CL hums under her breath. “Maybe so,” she says, as she steals the cigarette from Kibum. “But you’re still peas in a pod. I don’t see why it has to change. At least you guys had something. You and Jonghyun-ssi.”
“He’s liked her forever,” he mutters. “It’s dumb. Feels like he’s leaving us, you know. I should be happy for him, whatever. But he’s always been ours. Our member.”
“One day they’ll all have girlfriends. One day you’ll have a girlfriend.” CL’s shoulders shake with from amusement. “Though I can’t imagine that, to be honest - “
“You’re such a shit,” Kibum grouses, nudging her at the side. “…Why the hell do I like you.”
“Because I buy the cigarettes and you get to smoke them?” CL squeezes his shoulder. “Cheer up, fucker.”
“Let me mope. I have to look like a cheerful idiot for the rest of the time.”
“Like I said. At least you guys had something. Even a shit of a company can’t take that away.” CL’s smile is reminiscent of Kibum’s own now, a twist to the curve of her lips. “That’s more than I could wish for, myself.”
Kibum studies her as their gazes meet through the curls of smoke, lingering before he puts two and two together - “…Are we talking about Teddy-oppa?”
“Che. Don’t be an asswipe.” CL drops the cigarette onto the cement and puts it out with her heel. “Watch us at broadcast. I’ll sing the song for you.”
“Go Away? Or It Hurts?”
“Both, I guess. Whichever you want it to be.” She shrugs. “I’ll send you an autographed CD, either way.”
Kibum lets out a bark of laughter. “My god, you’re so full of yourself.” He rubs at his eyes and hopes that his eyeliner hasn’t run. CL steps in, absently thumbing away at his cheeks where the tears have streaked through his face powder. Her fingers are gentle against his skin, and even with the perfection of her makeup there is an uncharacteristic warmth in the curve of her smile. Kibum feels a strange surge of affection for her right then, the sort of fondness he has always associated with Amber or Jonghyun.
CL may not be the closest of friends, but she knows him in the ways that count the most.
“I still wish Amber were here,” he mumbles at last. “But you’ll do.”
CL rolls her eyes and pulls away, dusting lightly on the sleeve of her jacket. “Don’t think you can come crying to me all the time now,” she says, a playful warning in her voice. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold, here.”
Kibum makes a sound between a hiccup and a chuckle as he leans against her, CL slipping the remaining cigarettes into his coat pocket. “I swear I’m not usually this emotional.”
She chuckles dryly. “I forgive you. I have my days.” She pats his arm. “Get yourself together and watch us sing, shit. Here, take my sunglasses, you look like crap.”
“You only lend me your Ray-bans when I’m down?” Kibum says indignantly, but he can feel his mood lift a little as she slips the coveted sunglasses onto his nose. He’s always wanted a pair of these.
“I want them back. But you can keep the Jeremy Scott.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Let’s go. Your fur jacket is dumb, by the way.”
CL narrows her eyes, but there’s a satisfaction in her smirk when he links his arm with hers. They step through the back doors of the broadcasting station and it’s mayhem and lights all over again, stylists rushing past them and stage hands calling out over their heads. CL presses a hand to his back as they pass his dressing room. “You’ll be okay,” she says in an undertone, throwing him a parting wink as she struts down the hallway.
Indeed he is. Kibum pushes the sunglasses up his nose and puts on the smile that everyone is counting on, that Jonghyun is counting on. Count to three and a deep breath, he tells himself, and there he goes.
Key & CL
These days they share more than just cigarettes.
smokescreen
Boy we've had a real good time
And I wish you the best on your way.
Lady GaGa; Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)
If anyone asks him now, he won’t remember how it started. Maybe someone had a pack, and the other had the lighter - doesn’t matter who had what, either. Kibum doesn’t put stock into unnecessary details. But she’s more chingu than noona neomu yeppeo, so he trusts her. CL isn’t the sort to tattle. That, and she lets him keep the cigarettes if he asks nicely.
She’s unpretty, but not in a manner that is entirely unpleasant. She watches him with a vaguely unimpressed expression when he chokes on the first cigarette of the evening. “If you can’t handle it,” she says, “I’ll have that.”
“Go away,” Kibum says cleverly. The corners of her lips quirk upwards, and it’s not the angry little smirk he’s used to seeing in her performances. The shades disguise her eyes, but the rest of CL is far from hidden. Kibum thinks, sometimes, that he knows her better than a lot of people.
“Hello, hello,” she responds smoothly, a tune to her words. “At least share.”
They’re not the closest of friends, and it’s comfortable because they never have to pretend that they are. It’s usually just the narrow passage behind the broadcasting station, a shared cigarette caught between slim fingers, and them. They don’t plan these meetings - it could have been a few months ago that he’s last seen her, or it could be as recent as last week. It doesn’t matter. Her heels dig into the wet grass as he leans against the whitewashed walls. CL keeps the stick away from her white fur jacket as the smoke fills the air. 2NE1 fashion, Kibum thinks with a snort. Always overdramatic.
“Nice sunglasses,” he says instead, after she steals a smoke from between his fingers.
CL looks as though she wants to return the compliment, but she only gives him a once-over and keeps her mouth shut. Kibum isn’t interested in bitching about SHINee’s stylists again, so he ignores her. He’s had enough beef with his team that afternoon.
“I lent you my shirt. The Jeremy Scott,” she says then. Exhales. CL’s voice is a slight rasp today. Kibum could catch a sore throat from her, but he doesn’t really care. It’s not like SHINee isn’t already fucked with the kind of schedules that they have. He watches her carefully, admires the Ray-ban sunglasses as it glints in the fading daylight before she catches his attention again with the lilt of her words - “but you didn’t even wear it, did you.”
“Well, ma’am, Jjong thanks you.” CL huffs at his lack of apology. “I had one, I needed another for him. Couple shirts, you understand.”
If she catches the bitterness in his words, she doesn’t show it. Instead, CL only contemplates him for a moment, unblinking behind the dim of her shades. “What,” she says finally, “is going on.”
Kibum shrugs, stares up at a dulling sky. CL sighs. “SM Town,” she murmurs. “I never know what the hell is up. Have you heard from Amber-ssi?”
Kibum raises an eyebrow at her, and CL smiles oddly. “I only ask because my maknae is friends with her. I know people have seen her around. But have you?”
“No.” Kibum tries to tell himself that he doesn’t care, but it feels thick in his throat somehow, the idea that he might have lost Amber and the fact that he’s somehow lost Jonghyun. “I think the company hates me. It’s like they make it their mission to take everything I care about.” The words sound childish even to his ears, but Kibum doesn’t care. “But maybe Amber left because she wanted to. Maybe Jonghyun dates because he wants to. Who fucking knows anymore, they don’t tell me shit.”
CL hums under her breath. “Maybe so,” she says, as she steals the cigarette from Kibum. “But you’re still peas in a pod. I don’t see why it has to change. At least you guys had something. You and Jonghyun-ssi.”
“He’s liked her forever,” he mutters. “It’s dumb. Feels like he’s leaving us, you know. I should be happy for him, whatever. But he’s always been ours. Our member.”
“One day they’ll all have girlfriends. One day you’ll have a girlfriend.” CL’s shoulders shake with from amusement. “Though I can’t imagine that, to be honest - “
“You’re such a shit,” Kibum grouses, nudging her at the side. “…Why the hell do I like you.”
“Because I buy the cigarettes and you get to smoke them?” CL squeezes his shoulder. “Cheer up, fucker.”
“Let me mope. I have to look like a cheerful idiot for the rest of the time.”
“Like I said. At least you guys had something. Even a shit of a company can’t take that away.” CL’s smile is reminiscent of Kibum’s own now, a twist to the curve of her lips. “That’s more than I could wish for, myself.”
Kibum studies her as their gazes meet through the curls of smoke, lingering before he puts two and two together - “…Are we talking about Teddy-oppa?”
“Che. Don’t be an asswipe.” CL drops the cigarette onto the cement and puts it out with her heel. “Watch us at broadcast. I’ll sing the song for you.”
“Go Away? Or It Hurts?”
“Both, I guess. Whichever you want it to be.” She shrugs. “I’ll send you an autographed CD, either way.”
Kibum lets out a bark of laughter. “My god, you’re so full of yourself.” He rubs at his eyes and hopes that his eyeliner hasn’t run. CL steps in, absently thumbing away at his cheeks where the tears have streaked through his face powder. Her fingers are gentle against his skin, and even with the perfection of her makeup there is an uncharacteristic warmth in the curve of her smile. Kibum feels a strange surge of affection for her right then, the sort of fondness he has always associated with Amber or Jonghyun.
CL may not be the closest of friends, but she knows him in the ways that count the most.
“I still wish Amber were here,” he mumbles at last. “But you’ll do.”
CL rolls her eyes and pulls away, dusting lightly on the sleeve of her jacket. “Don’t think you can come crying to me all the time now,” she says, a playful warning in her voice. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold, here.”
Kibum makes a sound between a hiccup and a chuckle as he leans against her, CL slipping the remaining cigarettes into his coat pocket. “I swear I’m not usually this emotional.”
She chuckles dryly. “I forgive you. I have my days.” She pats his arm. “Get yourself together and watch us sing, shit. Here, take my sunglasses, you look like crap.”
“You only lend me your Ray-bans when I’m down?” Kibum says indignantly, but he can feel his mood lift a little as she slips the coveted sunglasses onto his nose. He’s always wanted a pair of these.
“I want them back. But you can keep the Jeremy Scott.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Let’s go. Your fur jacket is dumb, by the way.”
CL narrows her eyes, but there’s a satisfaction in her smirk when he links his arm with hers. They step through the back doors of the broadcasting station and it’s mayhem and lights all over again, stylists rushing past them and stage hands calling out over their heads. CL presses a hand to his back as they pass his dressing room. “You’ll be okay,” she says in an undertone, throwing him a parting wink as she struts down the hallway.
Indeed he is. Kibum pushes the sunglasses up his nose and puts on the smile that everyone is counting on, that Jonghyun is counting on. Count to three and a deep breath, he tells himself, and there he goes.