[ys] Write Me A Tragedy (5/7)
A/N: Thank you to everyone who left behind such lovely comments and get well wishes! I'm definitely much better recovered which I'm thankful for. Just hoping to carve out some time and head space to get this story done! This story has definitely slowed down a little in my own head, but I'll get there. :) Hope you like this chapter
(Also, omg I got a shock when I realised it was over 8k words, thank you LJ for letting it through)
+++
He gets in at almost 2am, after an insane pile-up on the highway delays their car back from Chong-ju. The light overhead flickers on, their automatic lock system chirps and the lock slides back into place as Yong-hwa kicks off his sneakers at the door.
Home sweet home.
He wonders briefly if Joo-hyun is at home, but his question is quickly answered at the sound of bare feet slapping on the wooden floor. Joo-hyun slides into sight, ostensibly having come from the kitchen. Her hair is piled atop her head, and she’s in one of his old Bon Jovi shirts. “Hi,” She says, already reaching to help him with his bags, but there’s something nervous in her greeting. “I didn’t think you’d get in until tomorrow.”
Yong-hwa rolls his shoulders, depositing his rucksack and duffel against the wall. “All the boys didn’t really want to spend another night in a hotel, myself included.” He lifts up the pair of glasses he wears offstage, rubbing at his eyes which are dry and tired after a long night of contacts.
“Do you need anything to eat?” Joo-hyun asks.
He shakes his head. “I think I’m just going to shower, and sleep. For at least one eternity.” Walking with her into the kitchen, he sees papers and files strewn across the island. “Are you still working?”
Joo-hyun follows the line of his gaze. “I was,” She says, already walking over to gather up her files, and she looks up at him as she closes her laptop screen. “But maybe I should turn in too.”
Dimly, some corner of Yong-hwa’s mind registers that this is good; that things feel kind of normal between him and Joo-hyun and at least she isn’t avoiding him like the plague. But he’s too tired to even think about any of that, and whatever he wants to say next is swallowed up in a huge yawn.
Joo-hyun tilts her head to the side, looking at him sympathetically. “Why don’t you go take a shower and go right to bed?”
Yong-hwa nods, already sleepily moving towards their bedroom, and it’s in a semi-conscious state that he begins to pull out his sleeping clothes from their shared wardrobe. He is sitting down on their bed, tugging off his socks, when Joo-hyun emerges from their wardrobe and there’s a thin bedsheet and blanket balanced on her arm.
She walks around the bed, picking up her pillow to add to the stack and that is when the first alarm bells start ringing in Yong-hwa’s head, slicing through his exhaustion.
“Where are you going?”
Joo-hyun is already halfway to the door, and he knows he’s not imagining the fact that she pivots slowly back around to face him, or the abashed expression on her face when she does look him in the eye.
Yong-hwa waits.
Joo-hyun clears her throat. “I think maybe…” She looks down at the sheets, as if looking for some kind of answer. “I think maybe I should sleep outside tonight. You’re exhausted,” She rushes on. “You take the bed. You need it more than I do.”
She’s still thinking about the divorce.
Yong-hwa stares down numbly at the socks in his hands.
Has everything I’ve done so far meant nothing? Has she not changed her mind about this?
He feels the bed dip next to him. “Yong-hwa.”
There’s a pause, and then Joo-hyun’s hand is on his forearm, cool fingerpads pressing into his skin.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything that you’ve done so far,” Joo-hyun says. Her voice is quiet and serious. “And… and I think things are better, I don’t… I’m not discounting any of that. It’s just that… we’re in the middle of a divorce. Or at least, we were.”
The use of the past tense, even as a possibility, is what gives Yong-hwa the courage to look her in the eye.
“What I’m saying is that…” Joo-hyun’s words catch on the edge of a sigh, and this close, Yong-hwa can see how exhausted she herself is, yet she presses on with a tremendous effort. “It’s delicate. We’re delicate. And I just… I don’t want to complicate it unnecessarily, by sleeping together.” There is a faint smudge of color on her cheeks, and she looks down at her hands. “Not in that way, but you know what I mean.”
Typically, Yong-hwa would pick up on an opening like this, turn it into something teasing and flirtatious, but right now, he is too tired for any of that. He balls up the socks in his hand, searching for the right thing to say to navigate the potential minefield this conversation could turn into.
“I just want to come home and sleep in my bed next to my wife. That’s all I want.” He hesitates, before adding the next part. “It doesn’t have to be complicated, Hyun. It’s just that simple, if you let it be.”
On the edge of the pillowcase in her lap, Yong-hwa sees her fingers tightening, pressing into the soft fabric.
Joo-hyun exhales, and her fingers relax, falling away from the corner of the pillow. “How about a compromise?”
+++
“This is ridiculous,” Yong-hwa grumbles, adjusting himself to get enough space. He turns on his side, facing her, even if he can’t actually see his wife behind the fucking wall of pillows she’s decided to construct.
Somewhere over the Great Wall of Pillows (as he’s dubbed it in his head), Joo-hyun laughs. I’m glad one of us is finding this funny. “We have a king-sized bed, Yong-hwa. You’ve plenty of space.”
“That’s what you think.” Yong-hwa says, pillowing his cheek on his hand. “I’ve been eating like a pig on tour. It’s amazing I haven’t fallen off the bed at this rate with all these… pillows.” He thumps one of them, emphasizing his point, but there is a pressure behind it - Joo-hyun must be holding it in place.
“You know as well as I do,” Joo-hyun chides, “That you always lose weight on a tour, not gain weight.” There is a pause, before she adds quietly. “Even I can see it this time.”
Yong-hwa falls silent too, on his end of the pillow wall.
This is so stupid.
He reaches a tentative hand, twitching one of the pillows a little away, so that there is a crack through which he can see Joo-hyun, or at least make out her features in the dark of their room. Her hand comes up to put it back in place, but Yong-hwa is faster, sticking his hand through the crack in the wall to hold her back.
“Come on,” He says, pleading. “Even… even prisoners can exchange messages right? Through a crack in the wall?”
He can’t see it, but he senses her smile, the rapid eye-roll in the dark. “Exactly what kind of movies have you been watching lately, that involve prisoners and passing messages through walls?”
“Not many, to be honest,” Yong-hwa admits, withdrawing his own hand. He slides a little further down the bed, lining himself up so that he’s almost at eye level with her. Just being in the same bed as her, even with these damned pillows between them, has that effect of making him feel closer to Joo-hyun, closer than he has in months. Maybe it’s just the faint smell of her shampoo drifting across the pillow, or the weight of her body next to his, or even in hearing her even breaths in the silence of their room.
“So,” He says, and the words are barely a breath out of his mouth. “How was your day?”
She shifts a little on her side of the bed. “Okay,” She replies, her voice coming to him softly from the darkness. “We closed a big case today.”
“No big celebration after?”
Joo-hyun shakes her head against her pillow. “They went out after leaving court.”
“You didn’t join them?”
A deep breath escapes Joo-hyun’s lips, and unconsciously, Yong-hwa nestles closer.
“It honestly didn’t feel like much to celebrate about,” Joo-hyun confesses. “Another big company taken over, more millions made, headlines for Barun… but… but in the end, what does it all mean, really? It impacts people for sure, but…”
“But you’re not sure if it means change for the right people,” Yong-hwa guesses.
“That,” Joo-hyun agrees, and there’s a low sigh from her now. “I don’t know. I should be happy. Barun is a big firm, high-profile, and I work under one of their best departments. But… lately I’ve just been wondering if… if all I’m staying for is a name. And if that’s worth staying for, even.”
Yong-hwa is silent now, giving Joo-hyun’s words the space to sink in.
“You’ve always loved helping people, Hyun,” He tells her. “If you don’t feel like this place is a good fit, you always have the option to leave. You know that, right?”
Joo-hyun hums, and vaguely, in the dark, he can make out her smile. “I know. Thank you.” She turns more fully to face him now, tucking a hand under her cheek. “What about you - how was your day?”
He thinks back on the day, of their last night in Chong-ju, of the audience and lights and music - a concert that feels like a lifetime away here in the dark quiet of his own bedroom. “It was good,” He says. “One of the techies brought his kid backstage - apparently he’s learning to play the bass and hero-worships Jung-shin. He’s only 8 years old.”
“That’s cute,” Joo-hyun breathes, but her words sound drowsy to his ears. Yong-hwa’s starting to feel it too - the slow pull of sleep and dreams. He rallies though, because there is something he has to ask her. “Hyun?”
“Mmm?”
There is a shot of nerves that go through him, briefly making him a little more alert than before. “It’s my… my birthday’s coming up.”
Joo-hyun laughs sleepily. “Next week. Hard to forget when it’s so close to Dad’s birthday.”
It’s now or never.
“I know work’s really busy for you right now, but I was wondering if you could take the day off?” Yong-hwa pauses. “I have the day off too; had to twist Sang-woo’s arm for that, but… it’s the first time in 2 years I’ve had nothing on on my birthday. And I would… I would really like to spend it with you.”
Joo-hyun is quiet now, and for one awful moment, Yong-hwa isn’t sure if she’s going to say no, or worse - has fallen asleep to his rambling.
But then her voice comes out of the darkness to him, and relief surges through him at her reply. “Okay. Do you… do you want me to plan something?”
He smiles, pressing closer to her, pillows be damned. “I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”
+++
On hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have left Joo-hyun in charge of planning his birthday. Especially not when she wakes him up at fucking 3am.
He swats away at the hand on his shoulder, already burying his face into the pillow so that the words are muffled. “Come on, hyung, have a heart, it’s not even 6am yet!”
“I’m not Sang-woo,” Joo-hyun’s voice is amused, and already, he can feel hands pulling away at his blanket in an attempt to get him up. Yong-hwa curls in further on himself, because damn it, he is not going to leave this bed even if it kills him. “And you’re right, it’s not 6am - it’s 3am.”
He groans, because 3 fucking am, seriously?! He flips over, peering at her through bleary eyes. “Funny,” He says, his voice rusty from sleep. “You look like my wife. But surely my wife knows better than to wake me up in the middle of the night for no good reason.”
He can’t see it behind his eyelids that have slid shut once again, but he can sense Joo-hyun’s smile. “It’s your birthday, Yong-hwa. Come on,” She says, shaking lightly at his shoulder. “We’ve got a full day ahead. We need to get moving.”
I should have known that Joo-hyun’s plans for my birthday would require me to wake up early, Yong-hwa thinks grumpily. A full day that starts at 3am, what was I even thinking?
But Joo-hyun must know him well enough, because she adds, “I’ve got coffee in the car.”
Yong-hwa squeezes his eyes shut. Damn this woman, and damn it that she knows all my weaknesses. “The Kona blend?”
“What else?”
The thought of his bed is tempting, but the promise of coffee… really good coffee at that…
He forces himself up with a superhuman effort, trying to ignore his body’s protests to get back into bed. Joo-hyun is sitting next to him on the bed, and the weight and presence of her sends it all rushing back: his request to spend today with her, and he rubs the last of sleep from his eyes.
“I better be swimming in this coffee,” is all he says before he swings his legs over the side of the bed.
Joo-hyun doesn’t seem to mind that he is semi-functional in the car; she drives without making conversation, leaving Yong-hwa to nurse his coffee while the latest Panic! tour album plays on the car stereo quietly.
“I didn’t know you listened to them,” He manages after his third cup of coffee.
Joo-hyun taps her fingers against the curve of the steering wheel, in time to the song in the background. “I didn’t,” She admits. “But you raved about their live tour album so much on Twitter and Instagram, so I decided to check them out. They’re actually… surprisingly good.”
Yong-hwa turns to look at her.
He’d come across their live tour album at least a couple of months ago, and yes, he’d been a little more than effusive in his praise of it on his social media (okay, he’d just fan-boyed, like any normal person would have done, and fucking Brendon Urie had retweeted one of his rambling tweets. He’s still getting over that, to be honest.) It isn’t unusual for his fans to be up to date on what he posts on social media, but to hear that Joo-hyun - Joo-hyun who barely updates her own social media - has been keeping up with his social media, enough to know that he loved their newest album, and went out and listened to it…
She’s been keeping tabs on me, Yong-hwa realises, In her own way, though we weren’t physically together, she’s been keeping up with me as best she knows how.
He looks down at the cup of coffee in his hands.
“So,” Joo-hyun says cheerfully. “I hope you’ll like where we’re going. It isn’t what we usually do, but… I thought it could be fun!”
Yong-hwa peers out the window. About 30 minutes ago, they’d left Seoul on the expressway, and while there are signs zooming by him, they’re not exactly helpful in narrowing down a potential location where they’d be headed to. “Color me intrigued, Hyun,” He says. “Do you feel like telling me about this mystery place that we’re going to?”
Joo-hyun’s smile deepens. “Let’s just hope we make it there on time.”
But by the time she pulls off at the Sok-cho entrance, he knows exactly where they’re going. “No.”
Joo-hyun, preoccupied by signaling and filtering, doesn’t take her eyes off the road. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m barely awake,” Yong-hwa whines. “How do you… how do you want me to go on a hike up Seoraksan at this rate?”
He’s really only saying it half facetiously; half of what he says is to wind Joo-hyun up anyway, but she must know it because she doesn’t engage. “Don’t be silly. You’ll be awake in a few more minutes once you finish off the last of the coffee. Plus, it’ll be fun. We’ve never gone on a hike together before. And if we make it on time… we might even catch the sunrise.”
“I know I run and jump around a lot on stage, Joo-hyun,” He teases, giving up on the complaining act. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m in good enough shape to go on a hike.”
“That’s the best part of going on a hike,” Joo-hyun says absently, turning the wheel to follow signs to the carpark. “No one trains for it, and so everyone’s equally bad at it. We can be bad together at it.”
Thankfully, they’re not going to start off with a hike right away - Joo-hyun has arranged for them to catch the cable car up to the peak so that they can watch the sunrise there first. The cable car ride up is surprisingly crowded for 5am; probably people who also hoped to catch the sunrise. Having foreseen this, Joo-hyun had pre-bought their tickets, which means they avoid the long line at the ticketing office. Also, there doesn’t seem to be much fear of him being recognised; everyone is too bleary-eyed to notice a celebrity getting into the cable car with them.
They make it up to the peak with time to spare; instead of opting to stand at the main deck where everyone is, the pair of them wander around, trying to find a quieter alcove from which they can watch the sunrise. By the time they’ve settled in, the sky is already starting to crack open, yellow bleeding into a bright blue.
Joo-hyun reaches into the backpack she’s carried with her and Yong-hwa actually laughs when she pulls out another thermos of coffee. “Just in case the first wasn’t enough.”
He can’t remember a nicer start to a birthday that he’s had in years - watching the sunrise on a new day, cool, fresh breeze in his face, warm coffee in his hand. The fact that Joo-hyun allows him to wrap an arm around her, and that she’s nestled into his side, is just the cherry on top of it all.
He’s actually not that hungry, even after the sun comes up, so they opt to start the hike - an “easy” trail that Joo-hyun had read about online, that’s supposed to take an hour only. It must be easy, Yong-hwa thinks, eyeing the elderly couples who are also setting off in the same direction, and that assures him somewhat.
Not for the first time today, he’s wrong.
Their fellow hikers on the same trail must be a good 30 years their senior, yet they manage to make it look easy, chattering and calling out to each other gaily as if they’re taking a stroll in a park. Whereas Yong-hwa, who is at least forced to the gym on a semi-regular basis by Sang-woo, is ashamed that he isn’t even making conversation with Joo-hyun, for fear that he’d be panting instead of actually talking. It’s actually surprisingly hard, climbing Seoraksan, even if this is an easier trail. As he takes another step up, he can feel the stretch in his thigh muscles, which he knows he’s going to be feeling for at least a week.
But just as he takes another huge step up, there is a hand that slides into his. Joo-hyun.
When he turns back to look at her, there is a trickle of sweat coming down the side of her forehead, and she too is breathing heavily, obviously not used to the exertion of hiking.
Yet, the smile that graces her lips is simple, sweet and open, and Yong-hwa can’t help but return it.
He grasps her hand tightly, helping her up the next step of rock face. They don’t let go, and gradually, inexplicably, Yong-hwa finds himself beginning to enjoy it - the way the air is fresher and sweeter the higher they climb, the faint birdsong, the rush of water in a gurgling brook, the way Joo-hyun looks at him as he guides her around a tricky part of the path that has collapsed in on itself.
There is a part of a trail that requires them to cross over a river, which is shallow enough that rocks protrude from under the surface of the water, serving as stepping stones across to the other side. Still, the rocks are slippery from the gurgling river, and someone has thoughtfully tied a weathered rope from this end of the bank to the other side to help hikers keep their balance. Yong-hwa makes Joo-hyun go first, watching her carefully, touching a hand to her hip to stabilize her when she takes a shaky step, but the pair of them make it across without much difficulty.
He’s ready to head off once they reach the other side, but Joo-hyun stops him, her eyes locked on the opposite side of the bank where they’d come from. “Yong-hwa.”
He turns to look at what she’s looking at.
An elderly couple, who can’t be much older than Joo-hyun’s father, are standing before the river crossing, hand-in-hand. The river isn’t deep nor are its currents strong by any means, but for elderly folks, it’s much easier for a misstep, a slip on the wet stones…
He shrugs off his haversack. “I’ll go help them.”
Guiding the couple across the river is no easy feat, especially when Yong-hwa has to tread backwards now on the damp stones, but it helps that they go slowly. The older man’s hand grips his tightly, even as he leads the pair of them, pointing out the next stone that they should step to. All the while, the water rushes past the soles of his shoes, dampening the canvas material of his sneakers.
Joo-hyun is right there when he steps off the last stone, her hands coming up to rest on the small of his back and his elbow to guide him down. “You’re good, oppa,” She murmurs, low enough that only he can hear her, but before he can turn to her, she is already reaching out her hands to help the elderly couple down.
“Thank you, young man,” The elderly man says when they’re safely settled on dry ground again, letting go of his wife’s hand to remove his boat hat for a moment. In the sunlight, Yong-hwa can see the tell-tale glint of sweat against his sparse hairline.
“You’re welcome,” Yong-hwa replies automatically. It’s true - regardless of whether Joo-hyun had been there to prompt him or not, he would have done the same. Thinking of this elderly couple gingerly picking their way across a river like that without any help - surely any good person would have done the same.
By some unspoken agreement, Joo-hyun falls into step with the elderly lady, the pair of them taking the lead, which leaves Yong-hwa with the older man. Yong-hwa finds out that they’re from Ul-san, come up for a weekend to see their grandson in Seoul, just newly born a few days ago. They’d decided to make use of their trip to make a visit to Seoraksan, since they’d never had the opportunity to go hiking here.
Even as they converse, Yong-hwa is surprised by how nice it is to talk normally with a stranger. As a celebrity, his social life is oddly paradoxical. On one hand, he meets so many people everyday; fans, other celebrities, people who support his existence, like wardrobe, make up people, directors and producers. Yet, his real social circle has shrunk since CNBlue rose to popularity; he can probably count on both hands the number of people he can have a real conversation with without his celebrity status getting in the way somehow. It’s been a while since he could talk to a stranger like this - freely, honestly, authentically, without any fear of being recognized or being treated differently because of what he does. He chalks this up to the older demographic of the hikers that they’ve met thus far along the trail, and he wonders briefly if that’s why Joo-hyun chose hiking as his birthday activity; to give him a break from being recognized, a respite from the constant vigilance and self-consciousness that he wears as a second skin these days. If so, he’s grateful to her for it.
“That your wife up there?” The older man - Deok-hyun - says, gesturing to Joo-hyun ahead.
Yong-hwa nods.
“How long?”
“Coming 3 years.” Yong-hwa says, ignoring that pang that shoots through him at that. There is so much still up in the air, so much that is uncertain between the pair of them, that he doesn’t know if he’ll get his wish for longer. “How about you?”
“Almost 55 years.” At Yong-hwa’s look of surprise, Deok-hyun chuckles. “Don’t look so shocked, young man. Back in those days, we married early, remember?”
Yong-hwa shakes his head. 55 years - so much longer than he’s been alive. He can’t even imagine it. The question falls off his tongue instinctively. “How?”
It is now Deok-hyun’s turn to look mildy surprised, as if he doesn’t quite understand the question. “How?”
“How did you stay together for so long?” Yong-hwa says, quieter now. “How did you… know that she was the only one for you; how did you make it work for so long?” He hesitates, letting the words roll through him until he finds the right question. “How did you stay in love so long?”
Deok-hyun’s eyes are understanding now; he looks up at his wife, who has an arm looped through Joo-hyun’s. Under the brim of her matching boat hat, Yong-hwa can see a wisp of grey curls escaping, dancing on the collar of her yellow parka. He imagines what the older man must see - his wife as he first saw her, a young bride, eyes bright, full of the hope and promise that life held for the both of them together.
“Back then, things were a little different,” Deok-hyun says gently. “We didn’t marry because we chose each other - it was arranged for us, and there was no such thing as whether we could make it work or not. We had to. You had to stay married those days; there was no if, or but about it.”
His eyes are thoughtful.
“But my So-min…” Deok-hyun rubs his chin. “We were friends first, for a long time. We grew into a life together. We learned to support each other, how to read each other, what the other person liked and disliked. We learned to be considerate of each other, whether in good times or bad. We learned to go the extra mile, just to make the other person smile. That’s what marriage is - a constant learning and re-learning of the other person.”
Yong-hwa swallows.
Deok-hyun smiles wistfully. “And along the way, I realized that she was everything I needed. I simply couldn’t imagine my life without her.” He turns to look at Yong-hwa now, a long beat passing between them. For one heartbeat, Yong-hwa thinks that this old man, this stranger he met 15 minutes ago, can see everything reflected in his own eyes.
“Why would you go looking for something else, if you already had everything you needed in one person?”
Unconsciously, Yong-hwa’s eyes drift to Joo-hyun. She turns to the older woman, So-min, and even from her side profile, Yong-hwa can see the laugh that lights up her entire face; her head thrown back in infectious laughter, her smile bright and blinding and real.
He feels a hand at his shoulder.
Deok-hyun’s smile is kind, in the way that raises an instinctive lump to Yong-hwa’s throat. “I assure you, we’ve made our fair share of mistakes along the way, So-min and I. Marriage is as about the missteps, as it is about the victories.” He follows Yong-hwa’s line of sight. “Your wife seems like a kind and perceptive person. Trust her. Trust her to see what she saw in you… what she still sees in you.”
I will not cry, Yong-hwa tells himself fiercely. I will not cry in front of this old man, who I barely know. Yet to have someone - even a stranger - understand; not jump to conclusions, or judge or condemn, is more than he can bear. He rubs a hand against his eyes roughly; his eyes are stupidly, stupidly damp - thankfully there are no actual tears - but he is sure the old man must know, especially when the hand on his shoulder tightens comfortingly.
“Thank you.” He says finally, when he can trust his voice again to sound composed and steady. He makes himself look up into Deok-hyun’s eyes, and while his smile is watery, it is full of the gratitude that he feels from his heart. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re a good boy,” Deok-hyun says in the confident, knowing way that only elderly people can, and his hand on Yong-hwa’s shoulder makes Yong-hwa ache for his own father. “I have full faith that your wife sees that too.”
The talk turns to more neutral topics after that - Yong-hwa learns that the older man is an avid fisherman, which leads to the both of them discussing their favourite fishing spots and Deok-hyun even gives him some useful tips that Yong-hwa files away for future fishing trips with the boys. Deok-hyun talks cheerfully about his son, who works as a teacher in an elementary school in Seoul and his daughter, who works as a marine biologist in Bu-san. The only tricky moment in their steady conversation comes when he asks Yong-hwa what he does.
Yong-hwa answers carefully that he is a performer, a singer in a band. He doesn’t give any names, although he doubts that the old man would know them even if he mentioned CNBlue, and if the old man senses that he’s holding back, he doesn’t call Yong-hwa out on it.
They eventually come to a fork in the road, splitting into two paths. Deok-hyun and his wife, who by now seem to be tiring, and indicate that they will be heading down shortly to beat traffic back to Ul-san as well. Joo-hyun seems to have gotten along with So-min, as well as he did with Deok-hyun and she looks almost sad, even as she leans in to give the older woman a hug in farewell. Both Deok-hyun and So-min insist that they must come and visit them in Ul-san, which they promise to do so as soon as they can.
“Good-bye, Yong-hwa,” Deok-hyun says, pulling Yong-hwa in for his own farewell hug, which Yong-hwa returns. “I trust you know what to do.”
Yong-hwa nods into the material of the older man’s windbreaker, but Deok-hyun doesn’t let go - not yet.
“You’ve got a good voice,” The older man continues, his voice light and teasing in his ear. “It’s been a pleasure actually meeting you in person.”
Yong-hwa jerks back in shock, just as the older man releases him. He’s sure his eyes are round and wide, but Deok-hyun just chuckles gently. “I’ve a teenage granddaughter too. Played your records just about a million times she came to visit us.” He tucks his own arm in his wife’s, guiding her down the other path.
Joo-hyun is beside him now, bewildered. “What was that?”
Deok-hyun and So-min are a little ways down the path now, but he turns around, raises a hand in farewell.
Yong-hwa waves back.
He looks at Joo-hyun, sliding his hand in hers. Why would you go looking for something else, if you already had everything you needed in one person?
“Nothing,” He says easily, squeezing her hand. “He was just giving me some good advice.”
+++
From there, it’s not much further to the lookout point, where the view is as good as promised online. They even pass by the Daesung Falls on their way there and Yong-hwa captures a picture of Joo-hyun, a hand pressed to her eyes as she squints up at its crest, the mist from the gushing water foaming up behind her like a curtain.
He posts it to his public Instagram when they’re back in the car, I’ll never forget the way you make me feel.
It’s cheesy, but it also has the added bonus of being true.
Although it’s way past lunchtime now, they make a quick stop at a seafood restaurant in Sok-cho, because Joo-hyun insists that “it’s not your birthday without some good seafood; you’re a Busan boy through and through”. While nothing will ever match up to Busan standards, the taste of his childhood, Yong-hwa has to admit that the mussels and spicy fish stew served come in a close second.
They make it back to Seoul by late afternoon, avoiding the weekend traffic out of the city. By now, both of them are flagging, given their early start this morning, but thankfully, Joo-hyun doesn’t have anything else planned besides dinner. This should give the both of them enough time to squeeze in a quick nap, which suits Yong-hwa just fine - a birthday should be lazy in some aspect after all.
While Joo-hyun is in the bathroom, he gets a call from an unsaved number.
He steps out into the living room for some privacy, frowning over the string of numbers. Unknown calls on his personal line are few, but then again, his number is protected, so he picks up after a moment of hesitation.
“Hey, Yong-hwa.” The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but not instantly recognizable. “It’s Si-won here. Do you remember me?”
Yong-hwa flips through the mental deck of faces in his brain; conjuring up from memory a tall, good-looking man he’d met once at the FNC corporate offices. “Si-won from Legal, right?”
The voice on the other end laughs. “That’s right. We spoke sometime ago, couple of months I think, about pressing charges against that hacker, who got into your socials. Do you remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yong-hwa says, the memory becoming clearer in his mind. “I remember. How have you been?”
“I’m good,” Si-won says genially. “Listen, I hope this isn’t a bad time. Sang-woo asked me to give you a call - said you had some legal matters to discuss, but I’ve been so tied up lately; your other label mates getting into scandals left, right and centre…”
Yong-hwa’s brain helpfully supplies the other detail he had filed away on Si-won - gets carried away easily - but he’s in no rush, and so he lets the other man ramble on for a bit in this vein.
Si-won’s laughter rumbles over the line; at what Yong-hwa has lost track of at this point, but he figures it’s safe to chime in with a good natured chuckle in agreement. “Anyway, the gist of it is: he said you had some stuff you needed to talk over?”
Yong-hwa bites his lip. “Yeah.” He relates the whole story about being served the divorce papers on tour, and on his end of the phone, Si-won lets out a low whistle.
“I’d appreciate it if you keep this to yourself.” Yong-hwa finishes. Of course, Si-won, being on FNC payroll, would be sworn to secrecy, but he still feels the need to emphasize this. With a pang, he realizes he hasn’t even told Jung-shin and Min-hyuk; there just really wasn’t a good time at any point on the tour, and to be honest, he didn’t know if he was up to dealing with their questions and comments. Silence was just easier, but telling a company lawyer before them still feels kind of remiss.
“Of course, of course.” Si-won says soothingly. “Wow. How long ago did you say you got the papers?”
“3 weeks?” Yong-hwa says, counting back mentally in his head. “Maybe a month. I’m sorry. Being on tour… fucking messes with my head.” It’s true; after a while, each day just bleeds into another.
“Okay,” Si-won says. “You’re just about reaching the protected time period in which you have to respond to the divorce papers. It’s roughly about a month, 30 days, give or take.”
Yong-hwa scrubs a hand through his hair. Time is not on my side, he thinks, feeling anxiety flare up in him. “What should I do?”
Si-won is silent for a moment on his end. “Do you… do you want this divorce?”
“No!” Yong-hwa’s answer bursts from his lips, more forceful than he would like. He tries to tamp it down, to sound more in control of a situation that is obviously spiraling. “No, I don’t. What… what can I do to stop it from happening?”
Si-won’s answering sigh does little for his nerves. “Honestly, you need to file an answer. You need to arrange to go for a court hearing with your wife, where a judge will hear your case.” There is a beat, before Si-won continues, lowly. “All this is public record, Yong-hwa. I can’t guarantee that we can keep this from the paps, if you go to court.”
Yong-hwa presses a hand against his eyes. Things just keep getting better and better.
“Worse,” Si-won continues. “If you don’t file an answer, you won’t be notified of any hearings the court is holding for your case. If your wife is somehow able to prove some fault ground for divorce, the judge can even rule for a divorce without you being there.”
No.
Yong-hwa swallows. “Could… could my wife withdraw the papers? If she… if she had a change in heart?”
All this hinges on a massive what if - if Joo-hyun is swayed enough to recall the papers she’d been determined enough to set in motion to begin with, if Joo-hyun decides that they’re worth a second chance, if Joo-hyun is able to come clean with him, to unveil what really propelled her to file for divorce in the first place.
“She could,” Si-won says slowly. “It’s a possibility. But how… how confident are you that she’ll withdraw these papers?”
Not very much.
There is a hot flash of humiliation that he doesn’t expect, and he hesitates. “I’m… I’m working on it.” It’s the best he can give at this point in time.
Maybe Si-won can hear it, because his tone grows brisk and business-like. “Okay. Give me the name of the law company who filed the papers. I’ll work on seeing how long more we have, until you have to file an answer, see if I can extend it - you said you were on tour?”
“I was,” Yong-hwa confirms. His heart turns over hopefully in his chest.
“But you were served the papers personally, hmmm,” Already, Si-won sounds faraway, and Yong-hwa’s sure he can hear the faintest rustling of papers on his end. “Okay, just give me the name of the law company…”
“Yong-hwa?”
He jumps, turning guiltily.
Joo-hyun stands in the doorway of their bedroom, dressed in a loose T-shirt and drawstring pants, rubbing at her wet hair with a towel. “Bathroom’s yours.”
He nods, giving silent thanks that she can’t hear his thudding heart. “Be right there.”
She nods, turning back into their bedroom and closing the door.
“I’ll text you,” Yong-hwa says into the phone, keeping his voice down in case Joo-hyun can still hear him.
“Okay,” Si-won says. “And Yong-hwa?”
“Yeah?”
“All the best.”
Yong-hwa swallows. “Thanks,” He says finally. “I’m going to need it.”
+++
When he wakes, it’s much too dark.
Sticking a lone hand out of the nest of blankets, he gropes sleepily for his phone on the side table, screwing up his eyes when the bright light of the screen hits. 8.30pm.
Shit.
Infinitesimally more awake than he was a few seconds ago, he plucks one of the pillows separating him and Joo-hyun from its place, tossing it carelessly away. “Joo-hyun,” He says, shaking her shoulder. “Joo-hyun.”
She stirs, burying her face into the pillow, but aside from that she makes no sound. Yong-hwa has to smile at that; the sight of a sleepy, acquiescent Joo-hyun is a sight for rare eyes.
“Come on, baby,” He says, the term of endearment slipping easily from his lips. “You have to wake up. What time were our dinner reservations?”
Among the wisps of hair that are swept high on the pillow, obscuring her face, Joo-hyun cracks open a single eye. “7.00pm.”
Oh well. Yong-hwa sits up, rubbing at his own eyes, but there is no sense of urgency to his movements. “Well,” He says stretching and hearing that distinct crack in his shoulders, a tell-tale sign of how long they’ve been asleep. “I think we’ve well and truly missed that boat now.”
Next to him, Joo-hyun jerks upright, as if his words have finally sunk in. He can hear her scrabbling for her own phone, pressing at the home button to light up the screen. “No, no, no!”
He shakes his head. “It’s fine, Hyun.”
“No, it’s not!” Joo-hyun is already throwing off her blankets, getting out of bed, a whirl of energy. The room is showered in bright white light in the next instant, and Yong-hwa blinks, raising a hand to shade his un-adjusted eyes. Joo-hyun on the other hand, has sunk back down on the bed, her phone pressed to her ear. Her fingers drum restlessly against her kneecap. “I’m going to call them… maybe they have a table for later.”
“It’s already 8.30pm, jagi.” He tells her gently. “By the time we get there, it’d be 9 plus… all the restaurants would be getting ready to take their last orders.”
“We can still make it,” Joo-hyun declares, phone still against her ear, as if waiting for someone to pick up. She stands, evidently heading towards their ensuite bathroom. “Come on, oppa.”
But Yong-hwa is half-awake, not inclined to rush for any kind of fancy dinner that Joo-hyun has no doubt planned for, and he reaches up, tugging her back to fall on the bed beside him with a whump. He takes the phone from her hand, noting that they still haven’t picked up, and he ends the call for her.
“It’s fine, sweetheart.”
“It’s not.” Joo-hyun is quieter now, not fighting him, but he can sense the frustration rolling off her in waves. “I had it all planned; we were going to go to that new Italian place - I booked us a private room and everything…”
Yong-hwa reaches up, tilting her chin until she faces him.
“I honestly couldn’t care what we eat, Joo-hyun,” He tells her slowly, making sure that she gets every word. “All I care is that I’m with you.”
Joo-hyun huffs quietly, seemingly unable to meet his eye direct, but any of the earlier frenetic energy he’d sensed from her is still now. He lets go of her. “Now,” He says slowly. “I might have an idea about dinner though.”
+++
“Thank you,” He tells the man at the door, taking the proffered plastic bag of food. Even from here, it smells heavenly, and he closes the door behind him. “Food’s here!”
Behind him, Joo-hyun is lighting one last candle that sits on a round side table, adding to the complex overlay of smells running through their house, but Yong-hwa likes it - likes the dim, cosy atmosphere their living room has taken on, thanks to the various candles Joo-hyun has lighted up. “And you said a private room in a fancy Italian restaurant was going to be better,” He jokes, setting the bulky bag on the table, kneeling as he unpacks its contents over the layer of newspaper Joo-hyun had thoughtfully laid out over their Italian coffee table.
One large barbecue pizza. The sweet and spicy wings Joo-hyun loves. And garlic knots, because why the hell not - it’s his birthday.
Joo-hyun jumps to her feet. “I’ll get the wine.” It’s lucky that Sang-woo had had a few bottles sent round today, as a birthday gift of sorts.
Together, they work together to set out the late dinner feast - Yong-hwa grabbing paper napkins, setting out the mozzarella cheese and chilli powder packets, Joo-hyun placing freshly washed wine glasses on the table. She uncorks the bottle with surprising ease, and Yong-hwa watches as the red wine drizzles satisfyingly into the glasses.
Joo-hyun holds out a full glass to him, her own at the ready. “Happy birthday, oppa.”
They clink glasses, and Yong-hwa sips slowly, enjoying the first rush of chilled wine down his throat, bitter and dark.
He sets down his wine glass and is reaching for a slice, when Joo-hyun stops him. “Wait! It’s present time.”
Presents? After all this?
“Well, it’s not wrapped or anything,” Joo-hyun says, getting up. “And to be fair, this makes up for the other years where we couldn’t celebrate together. Plus…” Here, she has the grace to look slightly ashamed. “I kind of wanted it too - so it’s like a present for both of us.”
Yong-hwa grins. “Right,” He says. Her hands are empty as far as he can see, so his curiosity is definitely piqued. “So what is it?”
“Ta-da!” Joo-hyun jumps aside, revealing the TV console. For a moment, Yong-hwa just stares at their familiar old flatscreen television, trying to figure out exactly what is new about it. But then his gaze shifts and he sees it; something new which has somehow escaped his notice since he got home, and he gets up from his own seat. “No way.”
There are new speakers up, but that’s not the gift - this is the gift. Yong-hwa runs his hands over the clear acrylic edges of the top of the record player, lifting it so he can touch the neck of the needle delicately. “You didn’t. This must have cost a fortune.”
“Like I said,” Joo-hyun says, coming around to stand at his side. “I wanted it too, so it was really a purchase for me too.”
He admires the sleek black turntable, runs a finger over the soft grooves of the slipmat. When he turns to face Joo-hyun at his side, she already has four records fanned out in her hands. “Here,” She says with a knowing smile. “Can’t have a record player without records, right?”
He takes them from her, not breaking her gaze. “You are such a…”
“I know, I know,” Joo-hyun teases, but her eyes are alight with satisfaction. “I’m the best at gift-giving. Got to hold on to my crown somehow.”
He turns his attention to the records before him.
“The Florence is mine,” Joo-hyun explains. “I picked up the Fleetwood Mac, Panic! and Halsey ones for you. Wasn’t sure which you’d prefer.”
He flips each of the sleeves over, reading their album tracks and deliberating. As much as he loves Fleetwood Mac and Panic!, he isn’t sure how well they’ll fit the mood now over pizza and wine. He’s been dying to listen to the new Halsey album, then again, he’s not really in a mood for electropop right now. He holds out the Florence album. “Here.”
Joo-hyun looks surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Yong-hwa says, already opening the top of the record player. Joo-hyun passes him the vinyl, which feels surprisingly flimsy in his hands, and he places it on the spindle carefully, adjusting the needle so that it runs right. “You’re always talking about how much you love her.”
“She is so good,” Joo-hyun enthuses, “This is my favorite album of hers.”
Together, they listen to the first song; Florence’s haunting voice drifting from the speakers, somehow matching the flickering of the candles and the dark intimacy of the living room, almost as if wrapping layers of magic over them like a cocoon. Yong-hwa takes another sip of his wine, reaching for his first slice of pizza. He pushes the open box towards Joo-hyun, who accepts her own slice. “She’s good,” He agrees.
There’s silence between the pair of them after that; both of them preoccupied with listening to the music and food. But it’s the kind of silence that doesn’t need words; just presence, and Yong-hwa feels himself unconsciously relaxing against the sofa. But his peace of mind doesn’t last long - his earlier conversation with Si-won floats back up in his brain, snagging like an anchor in the sand.
How confident are you that she’ll withdraw these papers?
He sneaks a look at Joo-hyun. Even from here, her side profile is relaxed and peaceful, enjoying the music, obviously not in the least thinking about their imminent divorce.
She has to, right? We’ve been spending more time together. Things are better now. When we’re together, it feels as though nothing’s changed. Couples divorce because they can’t stand each other. We don’t even hate each other or dislike each other - why do we have to get a divorce?
Joo-hyun chews thoughtfully at her pizza, her head bobbing in time to the music.
Oh, and it’s breaking over me, Florence sings. A thousand miles out to the sea bed. Found a place to rest my head.
Never let me go, never let me go.
“Yong-hwa?”
He starts, realizing that Joo-hyun is now looking back at him. Her eyes are concerned. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” She swipes at the corners of her lips self-consciously.
He takes a huge bite of his pizza to cover it up, not tasting any of it, feeling the weight of her eyes on him.
I know she loves me still. I know she does. This can’t be the end.
“It’s nothing,” He tells her, but he isn’t sure if he believes it himself. He forces a smile. “Everything’s fine.”
(Also, omg I got a shock when I realised it was over 8k words, thank you LJ for letting it through)
+++
He gets in at almost 2am, after an insane pile-up on the highway delays their car back from Chong-ju. The light overhead flickers on, their automatic lock system chirps and the lock slides back into place as Yong-hwa kicks off his sneakers at the door.
Home sweet home.
He wonders briefly if Joo-hyun is at home, but his question is quickly answered at the sound of bare feet slapping on the wooden floor. Joo-hyun slides into sight, ostensibly having come from the kitchen. Her hair is piled atop her head, and she’s in one of his old Bon Jovi shirts. “Hi,” She says, already reaching to help him with his bags, but there’s something nervous in her greeting. “I didn’t think you’d get in until tomorrow.”
Yong-hwa rolls his shoulders, depositing his rucksack and duffel against the wall. “All the boys didn’t really want to spend another night in a hotel, myself included.” He lifts up the pair of glasses he wears offstage, rubbing at his eyes which are dry and tired after a long night of contacts.
“Do you need anything to eat?” Joo-hyun asks.
He shakes his head. “I think I’m just going to shower, and sleep. For at least one eternity.” Walking with her into the kitchen, he sees papers and files strewn across the island. “Are you still working?”
Joo-hyun follows the line of his gaze. “I was,” She says, already walking over to gather up her files, and she looks up at him as she closes her laptop screen. “But maybe I should turn in too.”
Dimly, some corner of Yong-hwa’s mind registers that this is good; that things feel kind of normal between him and Joo-hyun and at least she isn’t avoiding him like the plague. But he’s too tired to even think about any of that, and whatever he wants to say next is swallowed up in a huge yawn.
Joo-hyun tilts her head to the side, looking at him sympathetically. “Why don’t you go take a shower and go right to bed?”
Yong-hwa nods, already sleepily moving towards their bedroom, and it’s in a semi-conscious state that he begins to pull out his sleeping clothes from their shared wardrobe. He is sitting down on their bed, tugging off his socks, when Joo-hyun emerges from their wardrobe and there’s a thin bedsheet and blanket balanced on her arm.
She walks around the bed, picking up her pillow to add to the stack and that is when the first alarm bells start ringing in Yong-hwa’s head, slicing through his exhaustion.
“Where are you going?”
Joo-hyun is already halfway to the door, and he knows he’s not imagining the fact that she pivots slowly back around to face him, or the abashed expression on her face when she does look him in the eye.
Yong-hwa waits.
Joo-hyun clears her throat. “I think maybe…” She looks down at the sheets, as if looking for some kind of answer. “I think maybe I should sleep outside tonight. You’re exhausted,” She rushes on. “You take the bed. You need it more than I do.”
She’s still thinking about the divorce.
Yong-hwa stares down numbly at the socks in his hands.
Has everything I’ve done so far meant nothing? Has she not changed her mind about this?
He feels the bed dip next to him. “Yong-hwa.”
There’s a pause, and then Joo-hyun’s hand is on his forearm, cool fingerpads pressing into his skin.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything that you’ve done so far,” Joo-hyun says. Her voice is quiet and serious. “And… and I think things are better, I don’t… I’m not discounting any of that. It’s just that… we’re in the middle of a divorce. Or at least, we were.”
The use of the past tense, even as a possibility, is what gives Yong-hwa the courage to look her in the eye.
“What I’m saying is that…” Joo-hyun’s words catch on the edge of a sigh, and this close, Yong-hwa can see how exhausted she herself is, yet she presses on with a tremendous effort. “It’s delicate. We’re delicate. And I just… I don’t want to complicate it unnecessarily, by sleeping together.” There is a faint smudge of color on her cheeks, and she looks down at her hands. “Not in that way, but you know what I mean.”
Typically, Yong-hwa would pick up on an opening like this, turn it into something teasing and flirtatious, but right now, he is too tired for any of that. He balls up the socks in his hand, searching for the right thing to say to navigate the potential minefield this conversation could turn into.
“I just want to come home and sleep in my bed next to my wife. That’s all I want.” He hesitates, before adding the next part. “It doesn’t have to be complicated, Hyun. It’s just that simple, if you let it be.”
On the edge of the pillowcase in her lap, Yong-hwa sees her fingers tightening, pressing into the soft fabric.
Joo-hyun exhales, and her fingers relax, falling away from the corner of the pillow. “How about a compromise?”
+++
“This is ridiculous,” Yong-hwa grumbles, adjusting himself to get enough space. He turns on his side, facing her, even if he can’t actually see his wife behind the fucking wall of pillows she’s decided to construct.
Somewhere over the Great Wall of Pillows (as he’s dubbed it in his head), Joo-hyun laughs. I’m glad one of us is finding this funny. “We have a king-sized bed, Yong-hwa. You’ve plenty of space.”
“That’s what you think.” Yong-hwa says, pillowing his cheek on his hand. “I’ve been eating like a pig on tour. It’s amazing I haven’t fallen off the bed at this rate with all these… pillows.” He thumps one of them, emphasizing his point, but there is a pressure behind it - Joo-hyun must be holding it in place.
“You know as well as I do,” Joo-hyun chides, “That you always lose weight on a tour, not gain weight.” There is a pause, before she adds quietly. “Even I can see it this time.”
Yong-hwa falls silent too, on his end of the pillow wall.
This is so stupid.
He reaches a tentative hand, twitching one of the pillows a little away, so that there is a crack through which he can see Joo-hyun, or at least make out her features in the dark of their room. Her hand comes up to put it back in place, but Yong-hwa is faster, sticking his hand through the crack in the wall to hold her back.
“Come on,” He says, pleading. “Even… even prisoners can exchange messages right? Through a crack in the wall?”
He can’t see it, but he senses her smile, the rapid eye-roll in the dark. “Exactly what kind of movies have you been watching lately, that involve prisoners and passing messages through walls?”
“Not many, to be honest,” Yong-hwa admits, withdrawing his own hand. He slides a little further down the bed, lining himself up so that he’s almost at eye level with her. Just being in the same bed as her, even with these damned pillows between them, has that effect of making him feel closer to Joo-hyun, closer than he has in months. Maybe it’s just the faint smell of her shampoo drifting across the pillow, or the weight of her body next to his, or even in hearing her even breaths in the silence of their room.
“So,” He says, and the words are barely a breath out of his mouth. “How was your day?”
She shifts a little on her side of the bed. “Okay,” She replies, her voice coming to him softly from the darkness. “We closed a big case today.”
“No big celebration after?”
Joo-hyun shakes her head against her pillow. “They went out after leaving court.”
“You didn’t join them?”
A deep breath escapes Joo-hyun’s lips, and unconsciously, Yong-hwa nestles closer.
“It honestly didn’t feel like much to celebrate about,” Joo-hyun confesses. “Another big company taken over, more millions made, headlines for Barun… but… but in the end, what does it all mean, really? It impacts people for sure, but…”
“But you’re not sure if it means change for the right people,” Yong-hwa guesses.
“That,” Joo-hyun agrees, and there’s a low sigh from her now. “I don’t know. I should be happy. Barun is a big firm, high-profile, and I work under one of their best departments. But… lately I’ve just been wondering if… if all I’m staying for is a name. And if that’s worth staying for, even.”
Yong-hwa is silent now, giving Joo-hyun’s words the space to sink in.
“You’ve always loved helping people, Hyun,” He tells her. “If you don’t feel like this place is a good fit, you always have the option to leave. You know that, right?”
Joo-hyun hums, and vaguely, in the dark, he can make out her smile. “I know. Thank you.” She turns more fully to face him now, tucking a hand under her cheek. “What about you - how was your day?”
He thinks back on the day, of their last night in Chong-ju, of the audience and lights and music - a concert that feels like a lifetime away here in the dark quiet of his own bedroom. “It was good,” He says. “One of the techies brought his kid backstage - apparently he’s learning to play the bass and hero-worships Jung-shin. He’s only 8 years old.”
“That’s cute,” Joo-hyun breathes, but her words sound drowsy to his ears. Yong-hwa’s starting to feel it too - the slow pull of sleep and dreams. He rallies though, because there is something he has to ask her. “Hyun?”
“Mmm?”
There is a shot of nerves that go through him, briefly making him a little more alert than before. “It’s my… my birthday’s coming up.”
Joo-hyun laughs sleepily. “Next week. Hard to forget when it’s so close to Dad’s birthday.”
It’s now or never.
“I know work’s really busy for you right now, but I was wondering if you could take the day off?” Yong-hwa pauses. “I have the day off too; had to twist Sang-woo’s arm for that, but… it’s the first time in 2 years I’ve had nothing on on my birthday. And I would… I would really like to spend it with you.”
Joo-hyun is quiet now, and for one awful moment, Yong-hwa isn’t sure if she’s going to say no, or worse - has fallen asleep to his rambling.
But then her voice comes out of the darkness to him, and relief surges through him at her reply. “Okay. Do you… do you want me to plan something?”
He smiles, pressing closer to her, pillows be damned. “I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”
+++
On hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have left Joo-hyun in charge of planning his birthday. Especially not when she wakes him up at fucking 3am.
He swats away at the hand on his shoulder, already burying his face into the pillow so that the words are muffled. “Come on, hyung, have a heart, it’s not even 6am yet!”
“I’m not Sang-woo,” Joo-hyun’s voice is amused, and already, he can feel hands pulling away at his blanket in an attempt to get him up. Yong-hwa curls in further on himself, because damn it, he is not going to leave this bed even if it kills him. “And you’re right, it’s not 6am - it’s 3am.”
He groans, because 3 fucking am, seriously?! He flips over, peering at her through bleary eyes. “Funny,” He says, his voice rusty from sleep. “You look like my wife. But surely my wife knows better than to wake me up in the middle of the night for no good reason.”
He can’t see it behind his eyelids that have slid shut once again, but he can sense Joo-hyun’s smile. “It’s your birthday, Yong-hwa. Come on,” She says, shaking lightly at his shoulder. “We’ve got a full day ahead. We need to get moving.”
I should have known that Joo-hyun’s plans for my birthday would require me to wake up early, Yong-hwa thinks grumpily. A full day that starts at 3am, what was I even thinking?
But Joo-hyun must know him well enough, because she adds, “I’ve got coffee in the car.”
Yong-hwa squeezes his eyes shut. Damn this woman, and damn it that she knows all my weaknesses. “The Kona blend?”
“What else?”
The thought of his bed is tempting, but the promise of coffee… really good coffee at that…
He forces himself up with a superhuman effort, trying to ignore his body’s protests to get back into bed. Joo-hyun is sitting next to him on the bed, and the weight and presence of her sends it all rushing back: his request to spend today with her, and he rubs the last of sleep from his eyes.
“I better be swimming in this coffee,” is all he says before he swings his legs over the side of the bed.
Joo-hyun doesn’t seem to mind that he is semi-functional in the car; she drives without making conversation, leaving Yong-hwa to nurse his coffee while the latest Panic! tour album plays on the car stereo quietly.
“I didn’t know you listened to them,” He manages after his third cup of coffee.
Joo-hyun taps her fingers against the curve of the steering wheel, in time to the song in the background. “I didn’t,” She admits. “But you raved about their live tour album so much on Twitter and Instagram, so I decided to check them out. They’re actually… surprisingly good.”
Yong-hwa turns to look at her.
He’d come across their live tour album at least a couple of months ago, and yes, he’d been a little more than effusive in his praise of it on his social media (okay, he’d just fan-boyed, like any normal person would have done, and fucking Brendon Urie had retweeted one of his rambling tweets. He’s still getting over that, to be honest.) It isn’t unusual for his fans to be up to date on what he posts on social media, but to hear that Joo-hyun - Joo-hyun who barely updates her own social media - has been keeping up with his social media, enough to know that he loved their newest album, and went out and listened to it…
She’s been keeping tabs on me, Yong-hwa realises, In her own way, though we weren’t physically together, she’s been keeping up with me as best she knows how.
He looks down at the cup of coffee in his hands.
“So,” Joo-hyun says cheerfully. “I hope you’ll like where we’re going. It isn’t what we usually do, but… I thought it could be fun!”
Yong-hwa peers out the window. About 30 minutes ago, they’d left Seoul on the expressway, and while there are signs zooming by him, they’re not exactly helpful in narrowing down a potential location where they’d be headed to. “Color me intrigued, Hyun,” He says. “Do you feel like telling me about this mystery place that we’re going to?”
Joo-hyun’s smile deepens. “Let’s just hope we make it there on time.”
But by the time she pulls off at the Sok-cho entrance, he knows exactly where they’re going. “No.”
Joo-hyun, preoccupied by signaling and filtering, doesn’t take her eyes off the road. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m barely awake,” Yong-hwa whines. “How do you… how do you want me to go on a hike up Seoraksan at this rate?”
He’s really only saying it half facetiously; half of what he says is to wind Joo-hyun up anyway, but she must know it because she doesn’t engage. “Don’t be silly. You’ll be awake in a few more minutes once you finish off the last of the coffee. Plus, it’ll be fun. We’ve never gone on a hike together before. And if we make it on time… we might even catch the sunrise.”
“I know I run and jump around a lot on stage, Joo-hyun,” He teases, giving up on the complaining act. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m in good enough shape to go on a hike.”
“That’s the best part of going on a hike,” Joo-hyun says absently, turning the wheel to follow signs to the carpark. “No one trains for it, and so everyone’s equally bad at it. We can be bad together at it.”
Thankfully, they’re not going to start off with a hike right away - Joo-hyun has arranged for them to catch the cable car up to the peak so that they can watch the sunrise there first. The cable car ride up is surprisingly crowded for 5am; probably people who also hoped to catch the sunrise. Having foreseen this, Joo-hyun had pre-bought their tickets, which means they avoid the long line at the ticketing office. Also, there doesn’t seem to be much fear of him being recognised; everyone is too bleary-eyed to notice a celebrity getting into the cable car with them.
They make it up to the peak with time to spare; instead of opting to stand at the main deck where everyone is, the pair of them wander around, trying to find a quieter alcove from which they can watch the sunrise. By the time they’ve settled in, the sky is already starting to crack open, yellow bleeding into a bright blue.
Joo-hyun reaches into the backpack she’s carried with her and Yong-hwa actually laughs when she pulls out another thermos of coffee. “Just in case the first wasn’t enough.”
He can’t remember a nicer start to a birthday that he’s had in years - watching the sunrise on a new day, cool, fresh breeze in his face, warm coffee in his hand. The fact that Joo-hyun allows him to wrap an arm around her, and that she’s nestled into his side, is just the cherry on top of it all.
He’s actually not that hungry, even after the sun comes up, so they opt to start the hike - an “easy” trail that Joo-hyun had read about online, that’s supposed to take an hour only. It must be easy, Yong-hwa thinks, eyeing the elderly couples who are also setting off in the same direction, and that assures him somewhat.
Not for the first time today, he’s wrong.
Their fellow hikers on the same trail must be a good 30 years their senior, yet they manage to make it look easy, chattering and calling out to each other gaily as if they’re taking a stroll in a park. Whereas Yong-hwa, who is at least forced to the gym on a semi-regular basis by Sang-woo, is ashamed that he isn’t even making conversation with Joo-hyun, for fear that he’d be panting instead of actually talking. It’s actually surprisingly hard, climbing Seoraksan, even if this is an easier trail. As he takes another step up, he can feel the stretch in his thigh muscles, which he knows he’s going to be feeling for at least a week.
But just as he takes another huge step up, there is a hand that slides into his. Joo-hyun.
When he turns back to look at her, there is a trickle of sweat coming down the side of her forehead, and she too is breathing heavily, obviously not used to the exertion of hiking.
Yet, the smile that graces her lips is simple, sweet and open, and Yong-hwa can’t help but return it.
He grasps her hand tightly, helping her up the next step of rock face. They don’t let go, and gradually, inexplicably, Yong-hwa finds himself beginning to enjoy it - the way the air is fresher and sweeter the higher they climb, the faint birdsong, the rush of water in a gurgling brook, the way Joo-hyun looks at him as he guides her around a tricky part of the path that has collapsed in on itself.
There is a part of a trail that requires them to cross over a river, which is shallow enough that rocks protrude from under the surface of the water, serving as stepping stones across to the other side. Still, the rocks are slippery from the gurgling river, and someone has thoughtfully tied a weathered rope from this end of the bank to the other side to help hikers keep their balance. Yong-hwa makes Joo-hyun go first, watching her carefully, touching a hand to her hip to stabilize her when she takes a shaky step, but the pair of them make it across without much difficulty.
He’s ready to head off once they reach the other side, but Joo-hyun stops him, her eyes locked on the opposite side of the bank where they’d come from. “Yong-hwa.”
He turns to look at what she’s looking at.
An elderly couple, who can’t be much older than Joo-hyun’s father, are standing before the river crossing, hand-in-hand. The river isn’t deep nor are its currents strong by any means, but for elderly folks, it’s much easier for a misstep, a slip on the wet stones…
He shrugs off his haversack. “I’ll go help them.”
Guiding the couple across the river is no easy feat, especially when Yong-hwa has to tread backwards now on the damp stones, but it helps that they go slowly. The older man’s hand grips his tightly, even as he leads the pair of them, pointing out the next stone that they should step to. All the while, the water rushes past the soles of his shoes, dampening the canvas material of his sneakers.
Joo-hyun is right there when he steps off the last stone, her hands coming up to rest on the small of his back and his elbow to guide him down. “You’re good, oppa,” She murmurs, low enough that only he can hear her, but before he can turn to her, she is already reaching out her hands to help the elderly couple down.
“Thank you, young man,” The elderly man says when they’re safely settled on dry ground again, letting go of his wife’s hand to remove his boat hat for a moment. In the sunlight, Yong-hwa can see the tell-tale glint of sweat against his sparse hairline.
“You’re welcome,” Yong-hwa replies automatically. It’s true - regardless of whether Joo-hyun had been there to prompt him or not, he would have done the same. Thinking of this elderly couple gingerly picking their way across a river like that without any help - surely any good person would have done the same.
By some unspoken agreement, Joo-hyun falls into step with the elderly lady, the pair of them taking the lead, which leaves Yong-hwa with the older man. Yong-hwa finds out that they’re from Ul-san, come up for a weekend to see their grandson in Seoul, just newly born a few days ago. They’d decided to make use of their trip to make a visit to Seoraksan, since they’d never had the opportunity to go hiking here.
Even as they converse, Yong-hwa is surprised by how nice it is to talk normally with a stranger. As a celebrity, his social life is oddly paradoxical. On one hand, he meets so many people everyday; fans, other celebrities, people who support his existence, like wardrobe, make up people, directors and producers. Yet, his real social circle has shrunk since CNBlue rose to popularity; he can probably count on both hands the number of people he can have a real conversation with without his celebrity status getting in the way somehow. It’s been a while since he could talk to a stranger like this - freely, honestly, authentically, without any fear of being recognized or being treated differently because of what he does. He chalks this up to the older demographic of the hikers that they’ve met thus far along the trail, and he wonders briefly if that’s why Joo-hyun chose hiking as his birthday activity; to give him a break from being recognized, a respite from the constant vigilance and self-consciousness that he wears as a second skin these days. If so, he’s grateful to her for it.
“That your wife up there?” The older man - Deok-hyun - says, gesturing to Joo-hyun ahead.
Yong-hwa nods.
“How long?”
“Coming 3 years.” Yong-hwa says, ignoring that pang that shoots through him at that. There is so much still up in the air, so much that is uncertain between the pair of them, that he doesn’t know if he’ll get his wish for longer. “How about you?”
“Almost 55 years.” At Yong-hwa’s look of surprise, Deok-hyun chuckles. “Don’t look so shocked, young man. Back in those days, we married early, remember?”
Yong-hwa shakes his head. 55 years - so much longer than he’s been alive. He can’t even imagine it. The question falls off his tongue instinctively. “How?”
It is now Deok-hyun’s turn to look mildy surprised, as if he doesn’t quite understand the question. “How?”
“How did you stay together for so long?” Yong-hwa says, quieter now. “How did you… know that she was the only one for you; how did you make it work for so long?” He hesitates, letting the words roll through him until he finds the right question. “How did you stay in love so long?”
Deok-hyun’s eyes are understanding now; he looks up at his wife, who has an arm looped through Joo-hyun’s. Under the brim of her matching boat hat, Yong-hwa can see a wisp of grey curls escaping, dancing on the collar of her yellow parka. He imagines what the older man must see - his wife as he first saw her, a young bride, eyes bright, full of the hope and promise that life held for the both of them together.
“Back then, things were a little different,” Deok-hyun says gently. “We didn’t marry because we chose each other - it was arranged for us, and there was no such thing as whether we could make it work or not. We had to. You had to stay married those days; there was no if, or but about it.”
His eyes are thoughtful.
“But my So-min…” Deok-hyun rubs his chin. “We were friends first, for a long time. We grew into a life together. We learned to support each other, how to read each other, what the other person liked and disliked. We learned to be considerate of each other, whether in good times or bad. We learned to go the extra mile, just to make the other person smile. That’s what marriage is - a constant learning and re-learning of the other person.”
Yong-hwa swallows.
Deok-hyun smiles wistfully. “And along the way, I realized that she was everything I needed. I simply couldn’t imagine my life without her.” He turns to look at Yong-hwa now, a long beat passing between them. For one heartbeat, Yong-hwa thinks that this old man, this stranger he met 15 minutes ago, can see everything reflected in his own eyes.
“Why would you go looking for something else, if you already had everything you needed in one person?”
Unconsciously, Yong-hwa’s eyes drift to Joo-hyun. She turns to the older woman, So-min, and even from her side profile, Yong-hwa can see the laugh that lights up her entire face; her head thrown back in infectious laughter, her smile bright and blinding and real.
He feels a hand at his shoulder.
Deok-hyun’s smile is kind, in the way that raises an instinctive lump to Yong-hwa’s throat. “I assure you, we’ve made our fair share of mistakes along the way, So-min and I. Marriage is as about the missteps, as it is about the victories.” He follows Yong-hwa’s line of sight. “Your wife seems like a kind and perceptive person. Trust her. Trust her to see what she saw in you… what she still sees in you.”
I will not cry, Yong-hwa tells himself fiercely. I will not cry in front of this old man, who I barely know. Yet to have someone - even a stranger - understand; not jump to conclusions, or judge or condemn, is more than he can bear. He rubs a hand against his eyes roughly; his eyes are stupidly, stupidly damp - thankfully there are no actual tears - but he is sure the old man must know, especially when the hand on his shoulder tightens comfortingly.
“Thank you.” He says finally, when he can trust his voice again to sound composed and steady. He makes himself look up into Deok-hyun’s eyes, and while his smile is watery, it is full of the gratitude that he feels from his heart. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re a good boy,” Deok-hyun says in the confident, knowing way that only elderly people can, and his hand on Yong-hwa’s shoulder makes Yong-hwa ache for his own father. “I have full faith that your wife sees that too.”
The talk turns to more neutral topics after that - Yong-hwa learns that the older man is an avid fisherman, which leads to the both of them discussing their favourite fishing spots and Deok-hyun even gives him some useful tips that Yong-hwa files away for future fishing trips with the boys. Deok-hyun talks cheerfully about his son, who works as a teacher in an elementary school in Seoul and his daughter, who works as a marine biologist in Bu-san. The only tricky moment in their steady conversation comes when he asks Yong-hwa what he does.
Yong-hwa answers carefully that he is a performer, a singer in a band. He doesn’t give any names, although he doubts that the old man would know them even if he mentioned CNBlue, and if the old man senses that he’s holding back, he doesn’t call Yong-hwa out on it.
They eventually come to a fork in the road, splitting into two paths. Deok-hyun and his wife, who by now seem to be tiring, and indicate that they will be heading down shortly to beat traffic back to Ul-san as well. Joo-hyun seems to have gotten along with So-min, as well as he did with Deok-hyun and she looks almost sad, even as she leans in to give the older woman a hug in farewell. Both Deok-hyun and So-min insist that they must come and visit them in Ul-san, which they promise to do so as soon as they can.
“Good-bye, Yong-hwa,” Deok-hyun says, pulling Yong-hwa in for his own farewell hug, which Yong-hwa returns. “I trust you know what to do.”
Yong-hwa nods into the material of the older man’s windbreaker, but Deok-hyun doesn’t let go - not yet.
“You’ve got a good voice,” The older man continues, his voice light and teasing in his ear. “It’s been a pleasure actually meeting you in person.”
Yong-hwa jerks back in shock, just as the older man releases him. He’s sure his eyes are round and wide, but Deok-hyun just chuckles gently. “I’ve a teenage granddaughter too. Played your records just about a million times she came to visit us.” He tucks his own arm in his wife’s, guiding her down the other path.
Joo-hyun is beside him now, bewildered. “What was that?”
Deok-hyun and So-min are a little ways down the path now, but he turns around, raises a hand in farewell.
Yong-hwa waves back.
He looks at Joo-hyun, sliding his hand in hers. Why would you go looking for something else, if you already had everything you needed in one person?
“Nothing,” He says easily, squeezing her hand. “He was just giving me some good advice.”
+++
From there, it’s not much further to the lookout point, where the view is as good as promised online. They even pass by the Daesung Falls on their way there and Yong-hwa captures a picture of Joo-hyun, a hand pressed to her eyes as she squints up at its crest, the mist from the gushing water foaming up behind her like a curtain.
He posts it to his public Instagram when they’re back in the car, I’ll never forget the way you make me feel.
It’s cheesy, but it also has the added bonus of being true.
Although it’s way past lunchtime now, they make a quick stop at a seafood restaurant in Sok-cho, because Joo-hyun insists that “it’s not your birthday without some good seafood; you’re a Busan boy through and through”. While nothing will ever match up to Busan standards, the taste of his childhood, Yong-hwa has to admit that the mussels and spicy fish stew served come in a close second.
They make it back to Seoul by late afternoon, avoiding the weekend traffic out of the city. By now, both of them are flagging, given their early start this morning, but thankfully, Joo-hyun doesn’t have anything else planned besides dinner. This should give the both of them enough time to squeeze in a quick nap, which suits Yong-hwa just fine - a birthday should be lazy in some aspect after all.
While Joo-hyun is in the bathroom, he gets a call from an unsaved number.
He steps out into the living room for some privacy, frowning over the string of numbers. Unknown calls on his personal line are few, but then again, his number is protected, so he picks up after a moment of hesitation.
“Hey, Yong-hwa.” The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but not instantly recognizable. “It’s Si-won here. Do you remember me?”
Yong-hwa flips through the mental deck of faces in his brain; conjuring up from memory a tall, good-looking man he’d met once at the FNC corporate offices. “Si-won from Legal, right?”
The voice on the other end laughs. “That’s right. We spoke sometime ago, couple of months I think, about pressing charges against that hacker, who got into your socials. Do you remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yong-hwa says, the memory becoming clearer in his mind. “I remember. How have you been?”
“I’m good,” Si-won says genially. “Listen, I hope this isn’t a bad time. Sang-woo asked me to give you a call - said you had some legal matters to discuss, but I’ve been so tied up lately; your other label mates getting into scandals left, right and centre…”
Yong-hwa’s brain helpfully supplies the other detail he had filed away on Si-won - gets carried away easily - but he’s in no rush, and so he lets the other man ramble on for a bit in this vein.
Si-won’s laughter rumbles over the line; at what Yong-hwa has lost track of at this point, but he figures it’s safe to chime in with a good natured chuckle in agreement. “Anyway, the gist of it is: he said you had some stuff you needed to talk over?”
Yong-hwa bites his lip. “Yeah.” He relates the whole story about being served the divorce papers on tour, and on his end of the phone, Si-won lets out a low whistle.
“I’d appreciate it if you keep this to yourself.” Yong-hwa finishes. Of course, Si-won, being on FNC payroll, would be sworn to secrecy, but he still feels the need to emphasize this. With a pang, he realizes he hasn’t even told Jung-shin and Min-hyuk; there just really wasn’t a good time at any point on the tour, and to be honest, he didn’t know if he was up to dealing with their questions and comments. Silence was just easier, but telling a company lawyer before them still feels kind of remiss.
“Of course, of course.” Si-won says soothingly. “Wow. How long ago did you say you got the papers?”
“3 weeks?” Yong-hwa says, counting back mentally in his head. “Maybe a month. I’m sorry. Being on tour… fucking messes with my head.” It’s true; after a while, each day just bleeds into another.
“Okay,” Si-won says. “You’re just about reaching the protected time period in which you have to respond to the divorce papers. It’s roughly about a month, 30 days, give or take.”
Yong-hwa scrubs a hand through his hair. Time is not on my side, he thinks, feeling anxiety flare up in him. “What should I do?”
Si-won is silent for a moment on his end. “Do you… do you want this divorce?”
“No!” Yong-hwa’s answer bursts from his lips, more forceful than he would like. He tries to tamp it down, to sound more in control of a situation that is obviously spiraling. “No, I don’t. What… what can I do to stop it from happening?”
Si-won’s answering sigh does little for his nerves. “Honestly, you need to file an answer. You need to arrange to go for a court hearing with your wife, where a judge will hear your case.” There is a beat, before Si-won continues, lowly. “All this is public record, Yong-hwa. I can’t guarantee that we can keep this from the paps, if you go to court.”
Yong-hwa presses a hand against his eyes. Things just keep getting better and better.
“Worse,” Si-won continues. “If you don’t file an answer, you won’t be notified of any hearings the court is holding for your case. If your wife is somehow able to prove some fault ground for divorce, the judge can even rule for a divorce without you being there.”
No.
Yong-hwa swallows. “Could… could my wife withdraw the papers? If she… if she had a change in heart?”
All this hinges on a massive what if - if Joo-hyun is swayed enough to recall the papers she’d been determined enough to set in motion to begin with, if Joo-hyun decides that they’re worth a second chance, if Joo-hyun is able to come clean with him, to unveil what really propelled her to file for divorce in the first place.
“She could,” Si-won says slowly. “It’s a possibility. But how… how confident are you that she’ll withdraw these papers?”
Not very much.
There is a hot flash of humiliation that he doesn’t expect, and he hesitates. “I’m… I’m working on it.” It’s the best he can give at this point in time.
Maybe Si-won can hear it, because his tone grows brisk and business-like. “Okay. Give me the name of the law company who filed the papers. I’ll work on seeing how long more we have, until you have to file an answer, see if I can extend it - you said you were on tour?”
“I was,” Yong-hwa confirms. His heart turns over hopefully in his chest.
“But you were served the papers personally, hmmm,” Already, Si-won sounds faraway, and Yong-hwa’s sure he can hear the faintest rustling of papers on his end. “Okay, just give me the name of the law company…”
“Yong-hwa?”
He jumps, turning guiltily.
Joo-hyun stands in the doorway of their bedroom, dressed in a loose T-shirt and drawstring pants, rubbing at her wet hair with a towel. “Bathroom’s yours.”
He nods, giving silent thanks that she can’t hear his thudding heart. “Be right there.”
She nods, turning back into their bedroom and closing the door.
“I’ll text you,” Yong-hwa says into the phone, keeping his voice down in case Joo-hyun can still hear him.
“Okay,” Si-won says. “And Yong-hwa?”
“Yeah?”
“All the best.”
Yong-hwa swallows. “Thanks,” He says finally. “I’m going to need it.”
+++
When he wakes, it’s much too dark.
Sticking a lone hand out of the nest of blankets, he gropes sleepily for his phone on the side table, screwing up his eyes when the bright light of the screen hits. 8.30pm.
Shit.
Infinitesimally more awake than he was a few seconds ago, he plucks one of the pillows separating him and Joo-hyun from its place, tossing it carelessly away. “Joo-hyun,” He says, shaking her shoulder. “Joo-hyun.”
She stirs, burying her face into the pillow, but aside from that she makes no sound. Yong-hwa has to smile at that; the sight of a sleepy, acquiescent Joo-hyun is a sight for rare eyes.
“Come on, baby,” He says, the term of endearment slipping easily from his lips. “You have to wake up. What time were our dinner reservations?”
Among the wisps of hair that are swept high on the pillow, obscuring her face, Joo-hyun cracks open a single eye. “7.00pm.”
Oh well. Yong-hwa sits up, rubbing at his own eyes, but there is no sense of urgency to his movements. “Well,” He says stretching and hearing that distinct crack in his shoulders, a tell-tale sign of how long they’ve been asleep. “I think we’ve well and truly missed that boat now.”
Next to him, Joo-hyun jerks upright, as if his words have finally sunk in. He can hear her scrabbling for her own phone, pressing at the home button to light up the screen. “No, no, no!”
He shakes his head. “It’s fine, Hyun.”
“No, it’s not!” Joo-hyun is already throwing off her blankets, getting out of bed, a whirl of energy. The room is showered in bright white light in the next instant, and Yong-hwa blinks, raising a hand to shade his un-adjusted eyes. Joo-hyun on the other hand, has sunk back down on the bed, her phone pressed to her ear. Her fingers drum restlessly against her kneecap. “I’m going to call them… maybe they have a table for later.”
“It’s already 8.30pm, jagi.” He tells her gently. “By the time we get there, it’d be 9 plus… all the restaurants would be getting ready to take their last orders.”
“We can still make it,” Joo-hyun declares, phone still against her ear, as if waiting for someone to pick up. She stands, evidently heading towards their ensuite bathroom. “Come on, oppa.”
But Yong-hwa is half-awake, not inclined to rush for any kind of fancy dinner that Joo-hyun has no doubt planned for, and he reaches up, tugging her back to fall on the bed beside him with a whump. He takes the phone from her hand, noting that they still haven’t picked up, and he ends the call for her.
“It’s fine, sweetheart.”
“It’s not.” Joo-hyun is quieter now, not fighting him, but he can sense the frustration rolling off her in waves. “I had it all planned; we were going to go to that new Italian place - I booked us a private room and everything…”
Yong-hwa reaches up, tilting her chin until she faces him.
“I honestly couldn’t care what we eat, Joo-hyun,” He tells her slowly, making sure that she gets every word. “All I care is that I’m with you.”
Joo-hyun huffs quietly, seemingly unable to meet his eye direct, but any of the earlier frenetic energy he’d sensed from her is still now. He lets go of her. “Now,” He says slowly. “I might have an idea about dinner though.”
+++
“Thank you,” He tells the man at the door, taking the proffered plastic bag of food. Even from here, it smells heavenly, and he closes the door behind him. “Food’s here!”
Behind him, Joo-hyun is lighting one last candle that sits on a round side table, adding to the complex overlay of smells running through their house, but Yong-hwa likes it - likes the dim, cosy atmosphere their living room has taken on, thanks to the various candles Joo-hyun has lighted up. “And you said a private room in a fancy Italian restaurant was going to be better,” He jokes, setting the bulky bag on the table, kneeling as he unpacks its contents over the layer of newspaper Joo-hyun had thoughtfully laid out over their Italian coffee table.
One large barbecue pizza. The sweet and spicy wings Joo-hyun loves. And garlic knots, because why the hell not - it’s his birthday.
Joo-hyun jumps to her feet. “I’ll get the wine.” It’s lucky that Sang-woo had had a few bottles sent round today, as a birthday gift of sorts.
Together, they work together to set out the late dinner feast - Yong-hwa grabbing paper napkins, setting out the mozzarella cheese and chilli powder packets, Joo-hyun placing freshly washed wine glasses on the table. She uncorks the bottle with surprising ease, and Yong-hwa watches as the red wine drizzles satisfyingly into the glasses.
Joo-hyun holds out a full glass to him, her own at the ready. “Happy birthday, oppa.”
They clink glasses, and Yong-hwa sips slowly, enjoying the first rush of chilled wine down his throat, bitter and dark.
He sets down his wine glass and is reaching for a slice, when Joo-hyun stops him. “Wait! It’s present time.”
Presents? After all this?
“Well, it’s not wrapped or anything,” Joo-hyun says, getting up. “And to be fair, this makes up for the other years where we couldn’t celebrate together. Plus…” Here, she has the grace to look slightly ashamed. “I kind of wanted it too - so it’s like a present for both of us.”
Yong-hwa grins. “Right,” He says. Her hands are empty as far as he can see, so his curiosity is definitely piqued. “So what is it?”
“Ta-da!” Joo-hyun jumps aside, revealing the TV console. For a moment, Yong-hwa just stares at their familiar old flatscreen television, trying to figure out exactly what is new about it. But then his gaze shifts and he sees it; something new which has somehow escaped his notice since he got home, and he gets up from his own seat. “No way.”
There are new speakers up, but that’s not the gift - this is the gift. Yong-hwa runs his hands over the clear acrylic edges of the top of the record player, lifting it so he can touch the neck of the needle delicately. “You didn’t. This must have cost a fortune.”
“Like I said,” Joo-hyun says, coming around to stand at his side. “I wanted it too, so it was really a purchase for me too.”
He admires the sleek black turntable, runs a finger over the soft grooves of the slipmat. When he turns to face Joo-hyun at his side, she already has four records fanned out in her hands. “Here,” She says with a knowing smile. “Can’t have a record player without records, right?”
He takes them from her, not breaking her gaze. “You are such a…”
“I know, I know,” Joo-hyun teases, but her eyes are alight with satisfaction. “I’m the best at gift-giving. Got to hold on to my crown somehow.”
He turns his attention to the records before him.
“The Florence is mine,” Joo-hyun explains. “I picked up the Fleetwood Mac, Panic! and Halsey ones for you. Wasn’t sure which you’d prefer.”
He flips each of the sleeves over, reading their album tracks and deliberating. As much as he loves Fleetwood Mac and Panic!, he isn’t sure how well they’ll fit the mood now over pizza and wine. He’s been dying to listen to the new Halsey album, then again, he’s not really in a mood for electropop right now. He holds out the Florence album. “Here.”
Joo-hyun looks surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Yong-hwa says, already opening the top of the record player. Joo-hyun passes him the vinyl, which feels surprisingly flimsy in his hands, and he places it on the spindle carefully, adjusting the needle so that it runs right. “You’re always talking about how much you love her.”
“She is so good,” Joo-hyun enthuses, “This is my favorite album of hers.”
Together, they listen to the first song; Florence’s haunting voice drifting from the speakers, somehow matching the flickering of the candles and the dark intimacy of the living room, almost as if wrapping layers of magic over them like a cocoon. Yong-hwa takes another sip of his wine, reaching for his first slice of pizza. He pushes the open box towards Joo-hyun, who accepts her own slice. “She’s good,” He agrees.
There’s silence between the pair of them after that; both of them preoccupied with listening to the music and food. But it’s the kind of silence that doesn’t need words; just presence, and Yong-hwa feels himself unconsciously relaxing against the sofa. But his peace of mind doesn’t last long - his earlier conversation with Si-won floats back up in his brain, snagging like an anchor in the sand.
How confident are you that she’ll withdraw these papers?
He sneaks a look at Joo-hyun. Even from here, her side profile is relaxed and peaceful, enjoying the music, obviously not in the least thinking about their imminent divorce.
She has to, right? We’ve been spending more time together. Things are better now. When we’re together, it feels as though nothing’s changed. Couples divorce because they can’t stand each other. We don’t even hate each other or dislike each other - why do we have to get a divorce?
Joo-hyun chews thoughtfully at her pizza, her head bobbing in time to the music.
Oh, and it’s breaking over me, Florence sings. A thousand miles out to the sea bed. Found a place to rest my head.
Never let me go, never let me go.
“Yong-hwa?”
He starts, realizing that Joo-hyun is now looking back at him. Her eyes are concerned. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” She swipes at the corners of her lips self-consciously.
He takes a huge bite of his pizza to cover it up, not tasting any of it, feeling the weight of her eyes on him.
I know she loves me still. I know she does. This can’t be the end.
“It’s nothing,” He tells her, but he isn’t sure if he believes it himself. He forces a smile. “Everything’s fine.”