[ys] track four: trying to find a part of me you didn't take up

[stripedberries]

A/N: Thank you for staying with this story. Here's to all the beautiful endings we'll find in life <3

Also, Go Kyung-pyo features in this, because I was still writing this story around the time Private Lives came out. (Also, he is a cutie!)

---

She gets the job.

Or well, kind of.

The social media manager calls her a week later, telling her that they’re keen to have her join GOLIN as a social media strategist, but can only offer her a contract position for a year due to some headcount issues. The contract may be extended after a year, contingent on job performance and company capacity. Still, for Joo-hyun, who has been searching relentlessly for months on end, the offer is more than enough and she happily accepts.

Working in a PR agency is not quite like managing the boys’ socials, she realises. Copywriters and designers are the ones to produce the actual material for the social media accounts, but she does come in to oversee and shape the content. Her days are spent in discussions with her various clients; working out the direction and narrative for their social media accounts. The hours can be long and thankless, especially in a small firm like GOLIN, but Joo-hyun takes all of it with good grace, knowing how fortunate she is to have landed a starting position like this. She starts to settle into this new chapter of her life; learning to enjoy the corporate rhythm of client meetings, lunches with her team, working on presentation decks till late in the night.

Some nights, when she collapses in bed, those memories of her being on tour with the band feel like a lifetime away. Like they happened to some other girl altogether.

She stops clicking over to the CNBlue social media pages, starts listening to a new English band introduced to her by her colleagues.

Her team is small but close-knit; comprising the social media manager from the interview and her boss now, Kim Hee-chul, as well as another social media strategist, Go Kyung-Pyo. In contrast to Hee-chul, who always seems to have some joke or scheme up his sleeve, Kyung-pyo is quieter, gentler; more likely to laugh at a joke than tell it. Yet, he is a great sunbae to her; always checking in on her; giving her advice and offering to help out on some of the more challenging projects.

But sometimes, she looks up to find him watching her at random moments in the day, ducking his head shyly or quickly looking away when he’s caught. He brings her tea occasionally in the morning, stays back late when she does, even though he doesn’t have to - all of which make her wonder if maybe, he likes her more than as just a colleague or a hoobae. And if he did, would she be interested in him too?

She doesn’t let herself dwell on that, because if she did, she’d have to think about him, and that’s one landmine she doesn’t want to step on, not anytime soon. Anyway, she’s got work to think about now and there isn’t space for a relationship in all of that.

One night, when the whole team is pulling an all-nighter on a major seasonal campaign they’ve landed with the Doo-san Bears, Hee-chul stands up, stifling a yawn, “Supper, anyone?”

Although Joo-hyun would much rather go home and attempt to get a few hours of shut-eye before work tomorrow, she knows that these late night (or early morning) suppers are customary for their team, especially after pulling an all-nighter. As the newbie to the team, it’s not really her place to beg out of it, and so she stands, “Sounds good. What do you have in mind?”

Kyung-pyo brings them to this new place in Jam-sil that his friends told him about; a place with killer chicken and beer, which also doubles up as a karaoke joint. Even though it’s in the wee hours of the morning by the time they walk in, business is still going at full blast; with ahjussis dressed in baseball jerseys and younger people toting placards with some name that sounds suspiciously like an idol group. This restaurant must be located within the cross-hairs of the Jamsil sporting arena and indoor stadium, Joo-hyun thinks, even as she sits down. Still, she is tired and more than a little grateful for the ensuing noise around her, which means that she doesn’t have to keep up a steady stream of conversation with her co-workers.

Instead, they sit, nibble at chicken, laugh at the inebriated performances that take place onstage. Joo-hyun even claps and cheers loudly, when Hee-chul bounds up onstage unexpectedly, putting on a letter-perfect performance of Super Junior’s “Mr Simple”, down to the chorus choreography. That’s my boss, she thinks to herself with some wry amusement, as Hee-chul sweeps into a deep, dramatic bow, as if thanking an audience of 5,000 and not half-drunk patrons in a karaoke bar at 1.30am in the morning. Still, she is aware that she is one of the lucky ones; to be able to have a boss who is both good at what he does and a good person.

Hee-chul flops back into his seat, sweaty and flushed with triumph, and Joo-hyun is about to reach for another piece of chicken, when his next words stop her. “Now, it’s your turn.”

She blinks, hand frozen in mid-air, but when she looks at Hee-chul, she realises he’s gesturing to the both of them.

He wants her and Kyung-pyo to sing together? As in a duet?

She doesn’t have to look at Kyung-pyo to know that his face must be a mirror of hers; completely nonplussed, mouth agape.

“Come on,” Hee-chul says, reaching for the abandoned piece of chicken and popping it in his mouth, chewing with great relish. “I already sang a song. What kind of colleagues let their boss sing alone, eh?”

So that’s why he went first, Joo-hyun thinks, realisation and exasperation mingling together. Still. She hasn’t sung with anyone in a long time, not since…

“I’m not really a good singer though,” Kyung-pyo interjects. His eyes are wide, darting to look at the current singer on stage; a much older man who is currently being good-naturedly heckled by the patrons sitting closer to the stage. To be fair, he is very drunk, but he is also very off-tune, Joo-hyun thinks with a wince as his voice cracks over the high notes. She knows that the patrons aren’t truly being mean; that the heckling is in good fun, but still, to go up there in front of all these people….

Hee-chul rolls his eyes, reaching for his beer, “It’s a karaoke bar, not the freaking Jamsil Indoor Stadium, Kyung-pyo. Plus, don’t think I haven’t heard you singing the new Girls’ Generation song in the toilet at work. You’re fine.”

Kyung-pyo turns a visible shade of red, taking a deep sip of his beer to cover his embarrassment, while Hee-chul fixes Joo-hyun with a pointed stare. “And you. Don’t even think of giving me that ‘I’m not a good singer’ schtick; there are actual Youtube videos online disproving that…”

But Joo-hyun misses the tail-end of what her boss says; those words snagging on the memory of a conversation backstage, arms around her, the faintest impression of lips against her forehead. She blinks, “I’m sorry?”

Hee-chul just points to the now-empty stage with some tired finality. “Just get up there, both of you.”

Kyung-pyo’s eyes are on her, as they both slowly rise from their seats, aware that that is a command, not a request anymore. Some rational part of Joo-hyun’s mind recognises that this is really nothing; just a random song in a bar to complete strangers. She’s performed to bigger crowds before. She’s got an okay voice and probably won’t be heckled for being off-beat or off-tune, but for some reason, she’s having trouble focusing; everything around her suddenly feeling slower than usual, the noise around her warping to an amorphous wave of sound in her ears.

A hand lands on her shoulder and she blinks, snapping out of it. It’s Kyung-pyo. “Shall we just do a duet?” He says, and his smile is openly hopeful. “Just get it over and done with, instead of prolonging our pain with two individual performances.”

“Sounds good.” She agrees, “Just choose something, and the faster we get it done, the faster we can go back to our seats and pretend like none of this ever happened.”

Kyung-pyo nods, his smile a mite pained and resigned to their shared fate, as he heads over to select a song at the tech console at the side. She takes the stage first, looking over the restaurant as she waits; marveling that even in the wee hours of morning, there are still people streaming into the bar. A group of men have just settled down in a corner booth; their backs to her as they peel off their coats, talking among themselves.

Kyung-pyo is beside her then, proffering a microphone, which she takes with a smile. “Ready to do this?”

Before she can answer, there’s a loud yell from the back of the restaurant that she doesn’t even need to look to know who it came from, “KILL IT, YOU TWO!” But that yell is loud enough to encourage a round of good-natured applause, and Joo-hyun can’t help but feel an unexpected wave of self-consciousness at the eyes that are suddenly turned to the both of them, expectant, waiting.

She leans over, touching a hand to his shoulder. “Sorry, what song did you choo-”

And then the music starts, a distinctive riff playing in the background and it’s as if all her bones have turned to water within her because - you have got to be kidding me.

It’s his song. Or rather, the duet he did with Yoon Min-ki.

Is this seriously my life?

Kyung-pyo doesn’t seem to pick up on her shock. “Do you know this song? I picked it because it was recent… it’s been playing on the radio a ton, and I thought you might know it.” His eyes widen in sudden fear. “You do, right?”

There isn’t enough time for her to respond; the song kicks in and Kyung-pyo has to start, has to sing Jung Yong-hwa’s part. He has a pretty okay voice, she thinks and the other patrons must think so too, because there’s another round of clapping and for a moment, she’s able to block out the rest of it, as she watches Kyung-pyo flush with obvious relief.

Her eyes move over the other assembled patrons, idly flitting to the group of men in the background who are currently being served. She isn’t sure why, or what it is about them that draws her attention - but that plaid shirt looks oddly familiar. Probably seen it on someone else before, she thinks before the chorus starts and she has to come in.

What if I’m trying
But then I close my eyes
And then I’m right back, lost in that last goodbye
What if time doesn’t do what it’s supposed to do
What if I never get over you?

She’s heard the song enough now to know Min-ki’s harmonies, which also earns her another scattered bout of surprised clapping and a loud whistle of approval which she knows has to be from Hee-chul. They’re holding up pretty well; she thinks. Not professional rock band celebrity standard, but above average for a grotty karaoke bar and maybe that’s what relaxes her enough to get into the song.

Maybe months go by, maybe years from now
And I meet someone, and it’s working out

Is that what Kyung-pyo will be, she wonders idly, even as they move into the second verse. Will he be that second chance; the person to pull her fully into a brand new season, to incite new feelings in the pieces of her heart that she still has left?

Will he be the reason she gets over Jung Yong-hwa once and for all?

Every now and then, he can see right through
Cause when I look at him
All I see is you

Kyung-pyo is looking at her now, smiling encouragingly and she tries to return that smile, but realisation smacks her, right between her eyes, stinging as a slap across the face - I couldn’t ask him to be that person to me. It wouldn’t be fair to him. I just couldn’t…

He couldn’t replace Jung Yong-hwa.

Shame, thick and heavy, uncoils in her gut and she has to look away from him then; away from his kind smile, his eyes, because she deserves none of it. Doesn’t deserve the feelings of a good man like Go Kyung-pyo, and it’s a wonder how she keeps singing; how the words spill mechanically out of her, wired by so many weeks of hearing the song over and over again.

You need to hold this together, Seo Joo-hyun, she thinks, trying to ground herself in the present reality. Just finish this song, get offstage and you can process all of this then. You don’t have to do it right now.

Desperately, she looks for Hee-chul in the crowd, hoping to use him as a touchpoint of sorts to keep her focused until the song ends. Yet, her eyes skip back once again to that corner booth, and she wonders: what is it about them that draws her attention over and over again? It’s more than that plaid shirt; it’s the build of the men, the number of them, the way some of them are actually looking at the stage now, even though their faces are indistinct in the dim lighting of the restaurant -

It can’t be.

It’s not possible.

The tallest man among them, the one with the beanie rolled up to just above his eyebrows, his long hair curling behind his ears… that can’t be Jung-shin, can it?

Her heart and mind begin to speed up, as if in tandem and furiously, she tries to recall the last piece of news she read about CNBlue. They should be at the tail-end of their tour and the tour always ends in Seoul, she remembers, her heart sinking within her. But it doesn’t make sense - what would the three of them be doing at this random karaoke joint in Jam-sil at the godforsaken hour of 2am in the morning?

But the more she looks at them, the more she sees to cement the growing sense of unease within her - the way the slim man to the right of the table seems to be twirling his chopsticks in his right hand, even as his head bobs in time with the song. Min-hyuk. The broader frame of the man directly facing the stage, his thick-rimmed glasses reflecting the backlight of his phone as he types into it, not paying attention to the performance. Sang-hoon, the boys’ manager.

Her breath catches in her throat then, because the last man, the one whose back is to the stage, whose face is can’t see must be…

It can’t be, her mind thinks frantically to herself, one last-ditch attempt to make sense of the impossible, but the man who remains unnaturally still, who has not turned around once during the duration of the song -

As if in slow-motion, he turns around then and even though she can’t see his face, shadowed in the darkness of the bar and his cap, a cold prickle of recognition runs up both her arms, sure as a bolt of static. It’s Yong-hwa. It’s Jung Yong-hwa.

And he is looking right at her, singing his song.

What if I never get over
What if I never get closure
What if I never get back all the wasted words I told you
What if it never gets better
What if this lasts forever and ever and ever
(I’m trying)

It is the strangest thing, Joo-hyun thinks faintly; singing his song back to him, which vocalises every single hidden fear she’s tried to outrun over time. It is a terrifying, paralysing act of vulnerability; to lock eyes with him across the room and rip open the parts of her heart that she’s haphazardly tried to stitch together.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away even as she comes into the home stretch of the song.

What if I gave you everything I got?
What if your love was my one and only shot?
What if I end up with nothing to compare it to?
What if I never get over you?

She startles a little as Kyung-pyo ad-libs the last line, singing it back to her and for a brief moment, she tears her eyes away from Yong-hwa, looking back at Kyung-pyo, whose gaze now holds the faintest signs of confusion at her obvious distraction. I’ll explain it to him after all this, Joo-hyun thinks, feeling a wave of shame anew. After we finish the song.

She turns her gaze back to Yong-hwa, but his seat is now empty.

Where… where did he go?

Her eyes scan the room frantically; catching on his back, turned purposefully against the stage, weaving his way towards the exit and Joo-hyun’s heart leaps into her throat. He’s leaving.

He can’t.

She doesn’t know if the song has stopped; doesn’t hear Kyung-pyo calling her name, the uncertain applause of the patrons as she runs offstage, fighting her way to the exit. None of it really registers, until she is standing outside in the parking lot outside the restaurant, the cold night air nipping at her cheeks. I have to find him.

For one awful moment, she thinks he’s gone - climbed into a waiting car, perhaps, but then she catches a glimpse of that impossibly familiar plaid shirt, now disappearing as he pulls his arms through a puffy black jacket, retreating faster as he strides away.

She doesn’t care who might hear her, who might recognise him - she has to make him stop.

“Yong-hwa!”

He falters, the briefest of pauses, but that is enough for Joo-hyun to break into a run, closing the distance between them quickly. Her heart is thundering in her ears, but she knows it has nothing to do with physical exertion.

As Joo-hyun comes to a stop before him, he turns around, the look on his face so unexpectedly cool and inscrutable that she can’t help the prickle of hurt that runs through her.

“What are you doing here?” She blurts, the question at the front of her mind battling with all the regular niceties on the tip of her tongue and winning.

He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat, and though his eyes never leave hers, they are the eyes of a stranger - disinterested, distant, aloof. “Wrapped up a late night rehearsal at the indoor stadium. It’s our last tour stop tomorrow.”

“Oh,” She says lamely, but before she can even think about asking another question, his gaze turns sharp, and there is a new edge in his voice as he says, “Nice rendition of my song, by the way. This seems to be becoming a habit.”

Her mouth drops open, because she’s never known Jung Yong-hwa to have such a side before - mean and caustic, at least not directed at her like this. Two can play at that game. “You mean you and your girlfriend’s new song?” She mirrors his stance, folding her arms across her chest. “Didn’t take you long to find someone new to make music and sing songs with, huh?”

For a moment, she thinks she’s done it - Yong-hwa inhales sharply and there is the oddest flicker in his eyes that looks like hurt.

And then, everything explodes.

“You walked out on me, Seo Joo-hyun!” Yong-hwa shouts, every inch of his controlled façade well and truly lost. “You don’t get to turn this around on me - not after you sang that stupid song and vanished out of the tour, out of my life and broke my damn heart.”

What?

I broke his heart?

“Wait,” She says faintly, her voice not sounding at all like her own. “The song… the new song. It’s… it’s about me?”

For a moment, she’s almost too afraid to meet his eyes; too afraid of the real answer to this question that’s been haunting her. But when she does look up at him properly, there is none of the earlier explosive anger; just a tired sadness.

“Who else would it be about?” He says, and there is a queer, choked quality to his voice that suggests that Jung Yong-hwa, frontman, rockstar extraordinaire is close to tears.

There’s just so much going on, so much left unsaid between the pair of them. Joo-hyun doesn’t even want to begin to pull apart the whirlwind that is her mind. All she knows is that there is one place where all the noise can be turned down to silence; one place where she’s ever felt truly safe and at peace.

And so she steps forward, tucking her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him.

She can feel his body freeze in surprise, unmoving and unyielding initially, but she holds on fiercely, as if she can soften him under the sheer force of her willpower.

Three breaths later, she feels his arms come up around her and she buries her head against him, hiding the sting of tears she feels biting at her eyelids.

Why, she asks herself. Why did I willingly walk away from this? Why did I walk away from him?

His hand skates up and down her back, almost as if he’s soothing her as much as he is himself and she feels her hands, knotting involuntarily at the small of his back, as if she can hold them together by sheer force of will.

“Min-ki and I aren’t dating.” He breathes shakily, and there it goes; one of the aching weights in her heart rolled away, cut free. “I wrote the song after you left. She came to our show in Chun-cheon and I thought it would be better as a duet, so I asked her to record it with me.”

“We went to dinner a couple of times before and after the recording.” She feels him swallow, his arms tightening around her. “She’s… she’s going through her own shit, and it just helped to talk about this together.”

“We didn’t refute the rumours, because… no press is bad press. It generated good publicity for the single.” Here, he leans back, looking intently at her as if to gauge her reaction. “But I’m not with her. Not like that.”

The only one I care about is you, is the only thing she can read in his eyes, in his silence.

She isn’t even thinking anymore; it is pure instinct when she goes up on her tiptoes, capturing his lips with her own, her hands sliding over his cheeks, to lock behind his neck, pulling him down towards her until there isn’t a breath of space between their bodies. It is the first time they have properly kissed, beyond stolen kisses on the cheek or forehead; the first time she has actually kissed a boy - but all Joo-hyun can think is: I should have done it sooner.

She isn’t sure who breaks the kiss first, but he leans his forehead against hers, as if loath to be any further apart from her. She knows the feeling. “Your turn,” He says quietly, his breath ghosting over her cheeks.

He’s been so impossibly honest with her; more so than she deserves. She owes him nothing less.

“I got scared,” She whispers, her fingers curling fiercely into the down of his jacket. “Being with you has been the biggest adventure of my life, oppa. You know how I plan every single part of my life, all the lists and goals I have mapped out in my head.”

“You were none of that.” She tells him honestly. “Singing onstage with you, following you on tour - those were the biggest leaps of faith I’ve taken. They were some of the most amazing times in my life, but… there was also so much fear. The fear of going off the beaten path, of what I was sacrificing in following my heart.”

She feels him nod into her forehead somberly.

“It got the best of me,” She confesses shakily. “I saw all my friends getting jobs; jobs that we’d been dreaming and talking about since our university days, and it scared me… how far off-track I’d fallen. How maybe, I was living in a dream, but we all know that dreams have to come to an end.”

She leans back, tucks a hand under his chin, so she can see his face properly now.

“And then there was you, Jung Yong-hwa.” She says softly, drinking in his eyes, his smile, this face she never imagined she would see up-close again. “You’re Jung Yong-hwa. Rockstar. Frontman of CNBLUE. A celebrity.” She shakes her head. “I’m just a regular girl, one you plucked out of the crowd at random to sing with. Even if you lov- cared about me, how could it last? Wouldn’t you find someone more like you, someone better-suited to be with you?”

She can’t decipher the look in his eyes, so she forges on. “So I thought, maybe it was better to just walk away. To end things before they ended me.” She laughs, but the sound is brittle, painful.

“Did you regret it?”

She closes her eyes, trying to find the answer - not the right one, but the honest one.

“Everyday since,” She says finally, looking into his eyes. “I told myself I was doing the right thing, the responsible thing, but… but I haven’t been truly happy. Not since I walked away six months ago. I’m sorry for hurting you, oppa.”

“Do you think all this never occurred to me either, Joo-hyun?” He says gently. “That I of all people, don’t know the unfair demands and expectations that my work levies on those I love? That when you first left, my first thought was also, this is for the best? How I tried to move on, knowing that this would be the wiser, more sensible choice for the both of us?”

There is such raw honesty in his voice, his words that Joo-hyun’s breath catches in her throat. “So?” She says, and her voice is barely a whisper. “Did you succeed?” In moving on, in getting over me?

Yong-hwa’s smile is wry now, self-deprecating. “I’m the one who wrote a song about not getting over someone. You tell me.”

There is nothing else she can say to that except to bury her face into his shoulder, as if she can continue hiding from the truth that has stalked her all these months, until it is now in front of her. Her next question though is nothing but genuine, not concealing any of the fear she still feels. “What do we do now, oppa?”

His hands slide up to cup the back of her neck, and she shivers in spite of herself. “Well,” He says softly. “We tried to solve this separately and we failed. How about trying to solve it together this time?”

+++

Two Years Later

This view never gets old.

She stands at side stage, bouncing on the balls of her feet absently in time with the boys, who are playing their hearts out on their latest single, Shake It. Min-hyuk and Jung-shin are in fine form, but there’s really only one ever person she has eyes for and she watches him now; head thrown back as he belts a high note, his hand wrapped around the neck of his guitar, that glow that always seems to take over whenever he’s onstage performing.

When he turns his head, ever so slightly towards the right, she knows he’s looking for her in the wings and she presses both hands to her lips, blowing him a kiss.

It's dark backstage, but he must see her because the grin on his face only grows wider, and he returns his full attention back to the packed stadium in front of him. That’s one of the things she loves most about Yong-hwa; how he never does anything by halves, how he always loves with his whole heart - whether it’s his music, his fans, the boys and now, her.

That night, after they’d reunited in the lot, they’d sat down for a long, serious talk about their future.

“I’m not going to sugar-coat this for you, Hyun,” He’d told her, their intertwined hands dangling between the pair of them. “When news of this breaks, the paps are going to be all up in your face. They’ll be everywhere, at your office, at your home. They’ll be relentless. And then there’s the fans. They’re great, but… there’s going to be girls who hate you. Crazed ones who’ll send you hate mail. Nothing you’ll do will ever be good enough for them.”

“And then there’s me. You know our schedule. When we’re not touring, there’s live performances, tapings, fan meets. We get some downtime in between albums, but FNC is always on our backs for the next big hit and the cycle starts all over again.”

He exhales heavily. “It’s a crazy life, Hyun.” He says, and there’s something desolate in the slump of his shoulders. “I… I have no right to ask you to be a part of it, to give up the way your life is right now for me, but…but…”

Her eyes fall to their clasped hands, her knee bumping against his, and she feels his fingers tighten on hers unconsciously, and there’s only one clear thought slicing through the whirlwind in her mind - I don’t think I could do this. Being without him.

And so, it’s with her heart thumping in her ears, words uttered on a shaky breath, that Joo-hyun tells him, “Let’s give it a try, oppa.”

They take their time though; deciding to date for a few months in private before making it known. It’s there that she gets her first taste of what it means to date a celebrity; stolen moments where he picks her up after work and they get barely an hour together before he has to head to some taping, learning to ignore the glancing, curious gazes of other customers when they do go out to eat. What she loves most are the times they spend holed up in his or her place, without the weight of any scrutiny, without the fear of being spotted. It’s her head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing gently over the back of her hand, their legs entangled as the light of the TV flashes off their faces. It’s in those moments where she feels the absolute certainty and rightness of the decision she’s made.

They take all the necessary precautions too - Joo-hyun shuts up her social media accounts (most of them are already private anyway). She gives Hee-chul and Kyung-pyo a heads-up, knowing that the media storm that is surely headed their way. Hee-chul is as per usual unfazed (“Nice. Ask your boyfriend what are the odds that FNC will throw some business our way?”), but it is Kyung-pyo who takes it with astonishingly good grace, especially when Yong-hwa stops by the office one day. The both men shake hands, and it is Kyung-pyo who compliments the latest album, asks Yong-hwa for an autographed copy for his niece.

When Yong-hwa hands back the signed album, Kyung-pyo’s eyes fall on her, and there is a small, resigned smile on his face. “You’re a lucky man, Jung Yong-hwa. I hope you know that.”

Inwardly, Joo-hyun cringes when she sees the flash of surprise across Yong-hwa’s face, his eyes flitting between the both of them, the settling recognition as he picks up on the unsaid. He smiles, tucking Joo-hyun into his side, but his smile is genuine, warm as he looks back to Kyung-pyo. “Trust me,” He says and there is nothing but pure feeling in his voice. “I know.”

She knows he said he would break the news via his socials this week - his way of letting the fans know directly. But he’s been fairly tight-lipped about when or what he would be saying exactly. It’s only when she wakes up, half-awake one Saturday, to a flurry of notifications on her phone that she knows - it is no longer their secret, but the world’s now.

She clicks into her own account, her heartbeat climbing at the 500 plus new follow requests she’s received already, but she ignores that temporarily, searching for his handle instead.

Her breath catches in her throat.

He's posted a picture of her, one she’s never seen before, but clearly, one that was taken when she was back with them on tour. In the shot, she’s mid-laugh, probably in conversation with Jung-shin or Min-hyuk, but she’s silhouetted against the light, and she looks happy. Perfectly content.

Below it, the caption:

Hi everyone. I hope you’ve been well.

I wanted to introduce you to one of the most important people in my life. Some of you may have recognised her from our earlier concerts, where she would come onstage to sing with me.

It’s funny to think that as someone who writes and sings about love, I never saw it coming myself. I never saw her coming - someone as pure, determined and selfless as her.

Thank you, Hyun - I only hope I can make you as happy as you've made me.

She remembers calling him after, and him laughing at the teariness in her voice. “You’re a sap, Seo Joo-hyun,” He teases. “Who knew it’d take just a simple Instagram post to make you cry? I should definitely post more now.”

And over the years, he has - photos of them at award shows, unfiltered moments of them on a trip to Gangwon-do, sometimes, even clips of them jamming together in his apartment. It hadn’t been easy at first; learning to adapt to dating a celebrity. The early days after the announcement were a sheer blur; dealing with overzealous fans who showed up at her workplace, begging her to pass on gifts to the band. Learning to never ever click into forums, or to read the comments on articles. Politely fending off the requests from friends and even family members, who wanted something from her celebrity boyfriend.

But through it all, Yong-hwa remained her constant; a calming voice cutting above the noise, an steady presence guiding her through the chaos of public attention.

Two years on, she’s still very much in love with him - the rockstar who brought her up onstage for an impromptu duet, her boyfriend who still drinks way too much coffee, who gets grumpy when he gets less than six hours of sleep, who once hid behind her in a haunted house (she’ll never let him live that down).

She must have tuned out the rest of the song, because when she blinks back to the present, Yong-hwa is holding onto the microphone, his guitar off, speaking with the crowd. They must be at the last part of their concert, she thinks, fumbling in her crossbody bag for the set list which Amber passed to her earlier.

“Tonight is a really special night for us,” Yong-hwa says, and she hears the delayed echo of his voice reverberating around the stadium. “It’s our last show in Seoul, and we just want to thank you all for the love you’ve shown for Stay Gold. And of course, for always supporting us and loving CNBLUE.”

There is a roar of approval at that, and Joo-hyun joins in; clapping from backstage.

Yong-hwa licks his lips, and an emotion she can’t quite name flickers briefly across his face. “But it’s not just a big night for the boys and I.”

He runs a hand through his hair, obviously nervous now, and Joo-hyun frowns, already mentally running through their last conversation together. This sounds like an announcement of some kind - something from the label maybe? Only she doesn’t recall him mentioning any big changes…

“I… normally wouldn’t have done this here.” He says, and there is a tremulous ring to his words. “But you guys have been with me since I was… 18? 19? I wanted you guys to be here for this.”

His lips quirk up a half-wry smile, as if recalling some joke that only he knows. “Plus, I first met her on a stage not too different from this. I think it’s only fitting to close the circle in this way.”

Close the circle? What is he…

And then Yong-hwa turns towards the wings, and her heart leaps into her throat at the open, hopeful expression on his face. “Joo-hyun?”

Oh my god. He’s not… he can’t be…

She doesn’t feel herself moving, but she must somehow, one foot in front of the other, her hands shaking, the heat of the stage lights and the clamour of the crowd hitting her in a massive wave. But none of it matters, except for Yong-hwa, the look on his face, his eyes, his smile.

“Hi,” He says, softly and already, she can feel the tears jump to her eyes.

She shakes her head, because… of course she’d hoped. Of course they’d talked about it. But she never… she never imagined…

He goes to one knee and Joo-hyun cannot breathe, cannot think above the wall of sound pouring from the crowd.

He reaches behind him, pulling out a simple, classic ring set sparkling by the the stage lights. She can only shake her head in disbelief; involuntary tears already leaking from her eyes and she presses her palms against her cheeks to staunch them.

“Joo-hyun,” he says and the stadium falls silent, everyone hanging onto his words. “The past two years have been some of the happiest of my life. And I think… I always knew,” His throat works. “That from the moment, I met you. We fit together. That no matter what the future would look like, I always saw it coming to this moment, right here.”

“Every day, I wake up and I feel comforted to know you’re part of my life.” He exhales, “Every day, I want more of you and it isn’t enough.”

He looks down at the ring briefly, but when he looks up, proffering it to her, there is only unshakeable conviction and hope in his eyes. “Will you please, do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The stadium explodes, their screams long and shrill in Joo-hyun’s ears and she doesn’t even have time to make sense of the train of thoughts ramming their way through her mind. All that she can register is Yong-hwa; his face, the ring in his hand, and her answer is simple.

“Yes,” she says, and her voice is probably lost beneath the noise, but he must see it, must see the look on her face because he is surging up, his arms around her, lifting her off her feet and she holds on to him; this man she adores with every inch of her being, and she will now be his wife.

He sets her down, pulling back so that he can look her in the eye and he leans in, his words right in her ear, meant only for her. “I love you, Hyun. I always have, and I always will.”

“I love you too, Jung Yong-hwa.” She breathes. “I love you so much.”