Stardust Melody - for sophrosynes
Title: Stardust Melody
For: sophrosynes
Pairing: Chen/Lay
Rating: R
Word count: 4831
Summary: There is nothing in the world that Jongdae likes more than singing, but he thinks he likes Yixing a whole hell of a lot, which is mildly terrifying to say the least.
Jongdae remembers meeting Yixing, but he doesn’t remember how they became friends. It was just like one year they weren’t friends and then next year somehow they were spending time together and making jokes with each other. The actual becoming friends part isn’t something that Jongdae can recall no matter how hard he tries. He’s gone through their Facebook posts to each other, through all the texts they sent each other (except he doesn’t remember getting Yixing’s number, either), but no matter where he looks, he can’t figure out how they became friends.
Friends is kind of the least of Jongdae’s worries right now, though.
Yixing is in love with Jongdae. Yixing’s never said it aloud, but Jongdae knows by the way Yixing hangs around him, smiles at him, giggles at his jokes even when they’re not funny. Yixing is painfully in love with Jongdae.
The thing is, Jongdae’s a singer. He’s always wanted to be a singer and he always has been a singer. There is nothing in the world that Jongdae likes more than singing.
But the fact of the matter is that he thinks he likes Yixing back. He thinks he likes Yixing a whole hell of a lot. And that is mildly terrifying. The problem with liking people is that it’s embarrassing, okay? Jongdae is a one-man wolf pack. He doesn’t need anyone else. He’s not weak like other people who have to rely on a significant other for fulfillment. Jongdae’s plenty fulfilled on his own, thank you very much.
He likes Yixing a lot, yes, but Jongdae knows they’re better off as friends. Friends are good. There are no major expectations of friends, just an acknowledgement that they may or may not be there in the future. With relationships (and Jongdae hates hates hates that word), there are expectations. There are assumptions that things will be the same in the future, that things won’t change. Marriage. That’s disgusting; Jongdae can’t deal with that.
For now, though, that’s okay, because if Yixing has expectations, he doesn’t show them.
Jongdae’s pulled from his thoughts when Yixing bounces up to him and taps on his shoulder.
“Jongdae? Are you ready to go?” Yixing asks.
“Yeah,” Jongdae says, bristling. Lately he’s always been bristling when Yixing touches him. He knows it’s a sign. He’s felt the signs before and they’re bad, they’re so bad. It makes him want to run and hide and leave Yixing all alone because Jongdae just can’t deal with this.
He gets up anyway, trying to avoid looking at Yixing’s smiling face. The dimples are fucking adorable but Jongdae doesn’t want to look at them.
They’re going to the gig together tonight. It’s not a date because that would mean they’re dating, which they’re not. Jongdae doesn’t do that. He can’t. They’re just going out together as friends. Friends don’t have expectations. Right. None at all.
The first time Jongdae realized he was kind of in love was about a year after he’d met Yixing. That was possibly the most terrifying moment of his life. They’d been at the library, of all places, studying for a Chinese test.
Jongdae’s shit at Chinese. He always has been, and he always will be. Yixing was Jongdae’s fifth tutor, each of the previous unfortunate souls having gotten fed up with Jongdae after a few sessions together. Jongdae had finally made a last-ditch attempt to pass Chinese by asking Yixing, who at that point was little more than an acquaintance, to help him.
And Yixing was so gloriously patient. When Jongdae continuously replaced third tones with second tones, Yixing would have a different yet gentle way of correcting him every time. When Jongdae mixed up the words for “chopsticks” and “child,” Yixing had cocked his head to the side thoughtfully before explaining the mistake to Jongdae. When Jongdae accidentally cursed at Yixing, Yixing would tell him exactly what he’d said and advise him not to say it to people he was supposed to respect. It was so nice, is all Jongdae can say. Nice. More than nice. He’s still not entirely sure.
It was about five weeks into their tutoring sessions the day Jongdae realized it. They were practicing conversations about travel. Yixing had just asked Jongdae where he wanted to go on vacation, and Jongdae had given him the standard textbook answer of “China, because I want to improve my Chinese.”
“Good,” Yixing had said. “Now ask me.”
“Where…” Jongdae stuttered, trying to remember which tones the words had, “do you want to travel?”
And Yixing had given him a reply he didn’t understand. But when he looked confused, Yixing smiled and translated for him. “I want to travel to a valley where the wind whistles through the hills. Somewhere calm where I can rest and listen. Where I can think happily.”
Yixing’s dimples made an appearance as he translated the description of his paradise for Jongdae. His eyes sparkled, and Jongdae nearly choked. “Are you high?” he demanded, making a feeble attempt to divert the realization that was inevitably dawning on him.
Yixing had laughed and Jongdae had died a little inside, but that was just the beginning.
A month later, Jongdae’s friend Minseok had told him that there was a jazz group looking for a singer, and that he knew Jongdae loved singing. It was a paying job that got gigs frequently, Minseok had said, and Jongdae seemed to be the perfect fit. Jongdae had been in need of a job, so he’d accepted eagerly and awaited the first group meeting with impatience.
And when the meeting did come around, who should be the group’s pianist but Zhang Yixing himself?
“Yixing?” Jongdae had blinked when he saw his friend. Yixing smiled at him, waving cutely and Jongdae had the simultaneous feeling of nausea and adoration.
“Surprise!” Yixing had grinned. “Welcome to the Raindrops.”
And that was that. And Jongdae wanted to die a little.
They get to the gig by taxi, and Jongdae spends the entire ride with his headphones in his ears. He tells Yixing he’s listening to the songs they’re going to perform, but in all honesty he’s not listening to anything at all; he just doesn’t want to talk to Yixing.
Also, Yixing’s singing. But Jongdae doesn’t really want to listen to that. It’s just...ambient noise. Yes.
Yixing taps him on the shoulder when they arrive. “We’re here,” he says, and Jongdae scoffs a little, pushing Yixing’s arm away.
“I know,” he replies, climbing out of the taxi and heading towards the lounge. It’s a glimmering, clear evening, with the stars shining despite the bright city lights. Yixing sidles up next to Jongdae and smiles at him, and Jongdae looks away. That smile is painful. He speeds up, but Yixing just matches his pace and it almost feels like a race to the entrance.
To their surprise, Chanyeol, their drummer, meets them at the door.
“Guys,” he says, and both Jongdae and Yixing are confused. Chanyeol is usually practicing or polishing his hi-hat or something. “Guys, they say there’ll be a talent scout here tonight. A talent scout. You do realize what that means, right?”
“We could go big,” Jongdae breathes, realizing exactly what that means. They could go big. They could go huge. Jongdae could be a real professional singer, and not just an amateur. The Raindrops could become famous.
Yixing sighs. “I don’t know, guys. I like just doing this. It’s fun. I don’t want my hobby to become my job and something that I hate, you know?”
“How could you ever hate this?” Chanyeol says, punching Yixing in the arm playfully. Yixing shrugs with a smile, and Jongdae frowns because isn’t that smile his?
No, it’s not.
“So, Chanyeol,” Jongdae tries not to growl, “that means we’re going to have to perform amazingly tonight, right?”
“Right,” Chanyeol says, leaving Yixing (thankfully) alone. “Come on, let’s get set up.” They all walk into the building and Jongdae can’t help but think about making it big. He, unlike Yixing, is not satisfied with this being a part time job. He wants to be a singer.
“Jongdae,” Yixing says, sliding his arm underneath Jongdae’s when Chanyeol is out of earshot, “do you think we’ll make it big?”
“I don’t know,” Jongdae says. It scares him how much he likes the feeling of Yixing on his arm. He decides to just relish in it for a little longer. “It would be cool, though, right?”
“I guess,” Yixing says. They stop in a hallway near the dressing room, and Yixing looks almost sad. “Jongdae...I know you’ve been edgy around me recently. Are you...I mean, do I make you uncomfortable?”
Jongdae is shocked. Why would Yixing bring this up now, of all times? “Yixing…”
“You know I like you,” Yixing says, and it’s more of a statement than a guess. “You’ve known for a while that I’m in love with you, haven’t you?”
Jongdae looks down at his shoes. “Yes,” he says.
“And you don’t love me back?” Yixing mumbles pitifully, obviously voicing a big fear of his. Jongdae looks back up at Yixing, and he doesn’t know how to respond. He loves Yixing. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to not want to, but he can’t help but feel that love is such a waste of energy. And yet he does love Yixing.
So instead of completely escaping the situation, he does something totally crazy. He kisses Yixing hard. He grabs the back of Yixing’s head and mashes their mouths together entirely ungracefully and the thoughts going through his head are like little knives that he can’t control. When he pulls back, he can’t make eye contact with Yixing, but he can tell his friend (friend?) is shocked.
“Y-you kissed me,” Yixing stutters, and Jongdae can see him touching his lips out of the corner of his eye. Nope. He doesn’t want to look at that.
“Yeah,” Jongdae says, turning away. Fuck, this is bad, this is bad. “Sorry.”
“I liked it, though,” Yixing says quietly, almost as if he’s consoling Jongdae. Jongdae hates this, he hates it, he can’t do this. “Do...do you want to do it again?”
Yes. Yes Jongdae wants to do it again. He wants to do it forever. But at the same time he really doesn’t want anything to do with Yixing. He wants to run away and never come back.
He does run. Well, it’s more of a very fast walk to the dressing room but he turns and leaves Yixing behind and he can hear Yixing calling his name but he can’t look back. What was he thinking?
He retreats into the corner of the dressing room and starts singing arpeggio after arpeggio. Calm down, Jongdae, calm down. It’s not a big deal.
No, it’s a Big Fucking Deal. He kissed Yixing and he really didn’t mean to it just kind of happened Yixing looked so cute and sad and he wanted to make him happy and -
Fuck. Well now Jongdae is screwed big time because now Yixing is going to have ~feelings~ and Jongdae obviously can’t deal with that. He doesn’t want to have to dote. He has to sing, for God’s sake. Jongdae likes singing more than anything. He doesn’t have time for Yixing and his stupid emotions.
“Yo, we’re on in five,” Lu Han, the bassist, says. Okay, okay. Jongdae can do this. He’s got to sing like his heart depends on it - life. Like his life depends on it. Not heart. He’s not going to become some dumb fuck with feelings just because he kissed Yixing. Not happening.
Arpeggios. C major, D flat major, D major, E flat major...G harmonic minor, A flat harmonic minor…Breathe in, breathe out. There’s a talent scout out there and he cannot let his mind get in the way. He cannot.
“We’re on!” Chanyeol cries, and they bustle onto the stage, where their instruments and microphones are set up. Jongdae decidedly avoids Yixing and they don’t have a chance to talk before the set starts. It’s better that way.
Minseok and Kyungsoo, two of the lounge’s other singers are joining them tonight as background vocals. They start harmonies with Yixing and Luhan (and Jongdae tries not to focus on Yixing’s voice), beautiful, smooth harmonies. It’s Jongdae’s cue.
Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely night dreaming of a song.
The melody haunts my reverie,
And I am once again with you.
Yixing loves this song. He loves the bass guitar, the smooth clarinet melody, the dreamy xylophone chimes. Jongdae loves this song too.
When our love was new,
And each kiss an inspiration.
But that was long ago,
And now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song.
He tries not to, he really tries, but he can’t help glancing back at Yixing during the clarinet interlude. He can’t help it. Yixing smiles at him before returning to the xylophone, and Jongdae wants to swallow his own heart but at the same time he wants to belt out all his emotions. Get rid of all of them through the song. So he does. He sings strong, clearly.
The crowd cheers after he finishes the song, and he can’t help but feel a little conflicted. He looks back at Yixing again. Yixing flashes him a big grin and a thumbs up this time, and Jongdae just shakes his head. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Yixing is too...too...infuriating? In any case, he needs to stop thinking about Yixing, so he motions to the band to start the next song.
The more I see you,
The more I want you.
Somehow this feeling
Just grows and grows.
He can’t help but focus on the piano melody. He can see Yixing’s graceful fingers dancing across the black and white keys, and damn it, if he doesn’t fall more and more in love with Yixing...it sucks. He can’t have this happen to him.
With every sigh,
I become more mad about you.
More lost without you,
And so it goes.
Who picked the setlist for tonight? Why do all of these songs remind him of Yixing? Why does he want to make sure he sings them well?
It’s the talent scout, that’s what it is. Not because Yixing picked the setlist and filled it with his favorite songs for Jongdae’s voice.
I know the one for me
Can only be you.
My arms won’t free you,
And my heart won’t try.
The crowd cheers again, and Jongdae’s ready to sing his heart out for the rest of the set. Ready to sing his heart out for the person who’s taken it.
“Your bow tie is crooked!” Minseok cries at Lu Han, getting all flustered. Chanyeol’s pacing around the room, and the rest of the band is muttering to themselves or trying to distract each other somehow.
It’s the talent scout they’re all worried about, but that’s not what’s on Jongdae’s mind.
Yixing returns from thanking the stage managers, as he usually does, and Jongdae wants to avoid him but he can’t because Yixing just comes up to him and takes his hand.
“Let go,” Jongdae says, and Yixing does, reluctantly.
“Jongdae,” he stutters, “look, I...I’m confused. And I think you probably are too, right? But it doesn’t have to be confusing. I don’t expect anything from you besides what you already give me plus maybe a little more acknowledgement.”
“I can’t give you that, Yixing,” Jongdae admits, and it’s painful for him to say.
“I know. I know,” Yixing says. Why is he always so patient? Why is he so selfless when Jongdae is being the world’s biggest ass? “So we can stay friends, if that’s better. I just don’t want you to ignore me anymore.”
When Jongdae looks, Yixing’s eyes are brimming with tears.
“I -”
“She’s here!” Chanyeol cries, running to the door and opening it for the talent scout. She walks in, tall and beautiful, and glances around the room as Chanyeol takes her hand. “Welcome,” he says. She smiles at him.
“Thank you! Your performance tonight was quite lovely.” Chanyeol beams at her. She looks around again, this time, her eyes landing on Jongdae. She walks towards him, stopping between him and Yixing. “You, sir, have the makings of an excellent pop vocals singer.”
“Thank you,” Jongdae says, looking at Yixing again. Yixing no longer has tears in his eyes.
“How long have you been singing professionally? Your singing tonight was incredibly soulful and beautiful. I’ve never seen someone sing those songs with such feeling,” she says, looking through her notebook.
“Thank you, but I’m an amateur,” Jongdae replies. “This is my more-exciting-than-my-real-job side job.”
“How would you like to make it your real job?” she asks, and Jongdae whips his head around to face her fully.
“Excuse me?” he chokes, and she laughs, her red lips framing her perfectly white teeth.
“Mmhmm! We could ship you out to Seoul this weekend and we’d jump start your launch to fame. With your face and voice, it’d be easy as pie. You’d be making a killing on your first album, I’m willing to bet on it.”
Jongdae can’t believe this. First album implies that not only will he have his own album, he’ll have multiple. And he’ll make “a killing.” Starting this weekend.
“What do you say?” she asks, and Jongdae can’t even speak.
“He’d love to,” Yixing says quietly, and with the sad tone in Yixing’s voice comes reality swirling back into his head. The talent scout claps his back.
“How about it, Mr. Kim?” she asks again, and Jongdae just nods. He’s wanted this forever. He shouldn’t second guess himself. “Great! Meet me at Cafe Decalcomania at ten tomorrow morning so we can go over your contract and other paperwork. See you then! Great show tonight!” She walks off in her high heels, epitomizing glamor and everything Jongdae’s wanted in life.
He just doesn’t feel that satisfied all of a sudden.
Looking up at the rest of the group, jealousy is clearly painted on all of their faces. He’s sorry, he really is. But on Yixing’s face is an indescribable emotion.
“I...guys, I honestly don’t know what to say,” Jongdae says, looking around. “Like, I...I don’t understand.”
“Jongdae,” Yixing says, “this has been your dream since forever ago. Go for it. It’ll make you happy.”
Jongdae hurts. He knows that all Yixing wants is for him to be happy. Yixing doesn’t even care about his own happiness as long as Jongdae has what he wants.
But what does Jongdae want, really?
“Where is Chen’s bow tie?” Baekhyun, Jongdae’s manager cries. “He’s on in four and a half minutes and there is no fucking bow tie on his neck!”
Jongdae wants to just shut everything out. He has a headache, he hasn’t slept a full eight hours in weeks, he’s hungry all the time, and he never feels fully healthy anymore. The only reason he can still sing is the honey ginger tea they keep feeding him, and it’s starting to hurt his stomach. He rubs his eyes, and Baekhyun screams because he’s just smudged his eyeliner.
“Get makeup back here!” he shouts. “Chen’s eyeliner needs to be fixed right this fucking minute or I swear to God I will have someone here murdered! Or fired!”
A makeup artist scurries up to him and dabs makeup remover on his face to get rid of the smudges and then reapplies the eyeliner in one swift and expert stroke. Jongdae’s half asleep.
His dreams lately have been of a soft couch, warm hands, movies droning on in the background. Fingers carding through his hair, a soft voice humming “Stardust.”
“Jongdae, wake the fuck up or I will make you go to dance practice instead of letting you sleep early tonight,” Baekhyun snaps, clocking Jongdae on the head.
Jongdae sighs. “Can we like...spread out my schedules from now on?” he asks. “I haven’t been feeling well lately.”
Baekhyun looks at him like he’s the world’s biggest idiot. “Are you fucking kidding me? Spreading out your schedules is like a death sentence for you. Your career is hinging on you being omnipresent, Jongdae.”
“Maybe I want a death sentence,” Jongdae mutters. This is not what he’d hoped it would be.
“Don’t fucking say that,” Baekhyun says, then turns around. “Where is Chen’s motherfucking bow tie?”
His bow tie arrives just in time for him to go onstage, and when the audience cheers for him, he flashes his well-trained, whitened and corrected smile, theatrically adjusts his bow tie, and lets the audience admire his perfectly coiffed and over-gelled hair. He sings, but it’s like his mind is on autopilot. He doesn’t even remember which songs he’s singing.
It’s been eight months since he’s last seen or spoken to anyone from his old home. Including Yixing.
Chen’s First Anniversary Fan Event is a big deal. The management had evidently underestimated the number of fans he had and the event tickets had sold out in less than three minutes.
He can tell that hasn’t stopped many fans from showing up anyway. Security is tight.
He talks with his fans - he really does appreciate them - but he misses having deep conversations. Every girl that comes up is either stuttering or overly bold, and most of them tell him the same thing. “You’re so handsome, I love your voice, your music is my life.” They ask him questions once in a while but it’s just nothing he really cares to answer.
Except one of his fans is unusual. A bigger hand than normal sets down a poster and when Jongdae looks up, Yixing is standing before him.
“Hi,” he smiles. “I’m a big fan of yours.”
“Yixing,” Jongdae gasps, and then he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, the lump forming in his throat.
“Sign it, Jongdae,” Baekhyun drawls from behind him. “There’s a hundred other fans waiting for your autograph. Hurry up.”
“Yixing,” Jongdae can’t even say anything. Everything he’s missed this entire time is standing right in front of him. “I -”
“Jongdae, I’m serious,” Baekhyun says again. “Yes, he’s a guy. No, it doesn’t matter. Sign the fucking thing and move on.” Jongdae desperately wants to tell Baekhyun to fuck off but he can’t take his eyes off of Yixing.
“Sorry, I’ll go,” Yixing smiles, and Jongdae can’t even think because he’s on emotional overdrive. He stands up, shocking the fans next to him, and he grabs Yixing by the shoulders.
“How are you?” he cries. “Are you okay? I - I don’t even - Yixing -”
Yixing looks shocked and he smiles. “I’m fine. We all miss you a lot. You’re so successful. We’re proud.”
Baekhyun is making distressed noises but Jongdae doesn’t want to let Yixing go. He shouldn’t have let Yixing go.
“I’m causing a disturbance,” Yixing says shyly, and Jongdae knows he’s the one causing the disturbance.
“I was in love with you the entire time,” Jongdae whispers just loud enough for Yixing to hear. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Yixing sighs with a melancholy smile, prying his arms away from Jongdae’s grip. “I know,” he says. “But it’s too late now, isn’t it? Bye, Jongdae. Good luck. You’re amazing.”
Security ushers Yixing along, and the next fan comes up quietly, looking concerned. And Jongdae feels bad that he has to ignore her, but he’s crying too hard. He gets up and goes backstage, deaf to Baekhyun’s scolding and maybe worried chatter.
Jongdae can’t stop crying. Tears keep streaming down his cheeks, into his mouth, dripping onto his pristine white shirt. How Yixing can still be so patient, so caring, so utterly wonderful after Jongdae has ignored him for over a year is completely beyond his understanding. And it’s all he wants. Yixing let him follow what he thought his dream was, and he was wrong. He was so wrong.
“I quit,” Jongdae sobs, “I quit, I quit, I quit. This isn’t what I wanted. This isn’t what I wanted; I quit, I quit, I quit!”
“Calm down,” Baekhyun says, trying to soothe Jongdae, but it’s not going to work. He can’t continue like this. Not when the thing he loves the most is way out of his reach.
“I can’t do it,” Jongdae says, turning to Baekhyun. “I was in love with him!” Baekhyun falls silent. “I’m still in love with him,” he cries. “I just...I left him at a complicated time, and he was so gracious about it and he told me to follow my dream. But I don’t think this was my dream in the end. My dream was...it was…”
“It was him,” Baekhyun replies quietly. “Still is, right?” Jongdae nods.
“I fucked up,” Jongdae tells his manager. Baekhyun puts a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.
“You know how I was Kai’s manager before I was yours? When I became his manager, he was at the height of his career. I know I’m not that much older than you are, but I have advice. I was invited to be the manager of Korea’s biggest star. I left my home and came here, even though my mother was sick, because I thought it was my dream. I was so busy, I didn’t visit her. And she died while I was gone. I didn’t even find out until two weeks after it had happened.”
Jongdae can’t speak. He had no idea.
“Yeah, it sucks, right? I still lose sleep over it, and God knows how little sleep I already get. But I don’t want you to have to suffer through something like what I had to suffer through,” Baekhyun says.
“Why is everyone so nice to me when I’m such a fucking asshole?” Jongdae asks, rubbing his eyes.
“That is an excellent question,” Baekhyun laughs.
“So, I guess I’m quitting, then,” Jongdae sighs. If he has to choose between his lifelong dream and the person he’s almost positive is his soulmate, it’s got to be Yixing.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Baekhyun says. “No, Jongdae, you cannot quit. I’m not letting you do that. This is my job we’re talking about too.”
Jongdae furrows his brow. “Then what was the point of what you just told me?”
“I have a better idea,” Baekhyun says slyly.
“Where the fuck is Jongdae’s bow tie?” Baekhyun cries, but Jongdae taps him on the shoulder.
“It’s on me,” Jongdae says with a grin. “Pay attention.”
“God damn it, don’t scare me like that. You’re on in two and a half minutes and - WHERE ARE JONGDAE’S CUFFLINKS?” Baekhyun’s nerves are fraying terribly and it’s kind of funny. “This is a debut stage, people! It has to be perfect! I will have someone drawn and quartered if the cufflinks aren’t here in ten seconds!”
“I have them, sorry,” Yixing says, handing Baekhyun the silver cufflinks with shaking hands. Jongdae notices how nervous Yixing is. It’s cute.
Baekhyun nearly throws the cufflinks at Jongdae before running over to harass other members of the show’s staff. Jongdae’s grateful for the time he has with Yixing before the stage starts.
“You’ll be great, Yixing,” he says, pressing a kiss to Yixing’s lips. Yixing visibly relaxes, smiling at Jongdae.
“Thanks, Jongdae. And...you know, thank you for waiting for me.”
Jongdae hugs Yixing around the middle - “DON’T CREASE HIS TUXEDO!” Baekhyun cries - and he kisses Yixing’s dimple. “No. Thank you for waiting for me. I’ve never deserved someone as patient as you.”
“That’s exactly what you need,” Yixing teases, and Jongdae laughs happily.
“Thirty seconds!” someone cries.
“I love you,” he says, and Yixing looks happier than Jongdae has ever seen him. The staff starts to usher them onto the stage.
“Ten seconds!”
Yixing grabs Jongdae’s arm before heading to the piano. The adoration in his eyes is evident, and Jongdae thinks that while all the pain and suffering that led up to this moment was unnecessary, he’s forgetting it when he sees that look on Yixing’s face. “I love you too.”
The stage lights start to rise, and Jongdae feels his heart pound with happiness as he takes his place behind the microphone. He’s never felt so fulfilled in his life.
A spotlight turns on, and Jongdae smiles dazzlingly at the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “I’d like to introduce The Raindrops!”
The music swings, Jongdae can hear Yixing’s fingers dancing across the piano keys, and he knows he’s made the right choice.
Let’s fall in love.
Why shouldn’t we fall in love?
Our hearts are made of it.
Let’s take a chance; why be afraid of it?
dear sophrosynes: I'm sorry I didn't make it canon! I hope you like it anyway! I had fun writing this one. I also suggest listening to the songs I referenced in the fic :)
For: sophrosynes
Pairing: Chen/Lay
Rating: R
Word count: 4831
Summary: There is nothing in the world that Jongdae likes more than singing, but he thinks he likes Yixing a whole hell of a lot, which is mildly terrifying to say the least.
Jongdae remembers meeting Yixing, but he doesn’t remember how they became friends. It was just like one year they weren’t friends and then next year somehow they were spending time together and making jokes with each other. The actual becoming friends part isn’t something that Jongdae can recall no matter how hard he tries. He’s gone through their Facebook posts to each other, through all the texts they sent each other (except he doesn’t remember getting Yixing’s number, either), but no matter where he looks, he can’t figure out how they became friends.
Friends is kind of the least of Jongdae’s worries right now, though.
Yixing is in love with Jongdae. Yixing’s never said it aloud, but Jongdae knows by the way Yixing hangs around him, smiles at him, giggles at his jokes even when they’re not funny. Yixing is painfully in love with Jongdae.
The thing is, Jongdae’s a singer. He’s always wanted to be a singer and he always has been a singer. There is nothing in the world that Jongdae likes more than singing.
But the fact of the matter is that he thinks he likes Yixing back. He thinks he likes Yixing a whole hell of a lot. And that is mildly terrifying. The problem with liking people is that it’s embarrassing, okay? Jongdae is a one-man wolf pack. He doesn’t need anyone else. He’s not weak like other people who have to rely on a significant other for fulfillment. Jongdae’s plenty fulfilled on his own, thank you very much.
He likes Yixing a lot, yes, but Jongdae knows they’re better off as friends. Friends are good. There are no major expectations of friends, just an acknowledgement that they may or may not be there in the future. With relationships (and Jongdae hates hates hates that word), there are expectations. There are assumptions that things will be the same in the future, that things won’t change. Marriage. That’s disgusting; Jongdae can’t deal with that.
For now, though, that’s okay, because if Yixing has expectations, he doesn’t show them.
Jongdae’s pulled from his thoughts when Yixing bounces up to him and taps on his shoulder.
“Jongdae? Are you ready to go?” Yixing asks.
“Yeah,” Jongdae says, bristling. Lately he’s always been bristling when Yixing touches him. He knows it’s a sign. He’s felt the signs before and they’re bad, they’re so bad. It makes him want to run and hide and leave Yixing all alone because Jongdae just can’t deal with this.
He gets up anyway, trying to avoid looking at Yixing’s smiling face. The dimples are fucking adorable but Jongdae doesn’t want to look at them.
They’re going to the gig together tonight. It’s not a date because that would mean they’re dating, which they’re not. Jongdae doesn’t do that. He can’t. They’re just going out together as friends. Friends don’t have expectations. Right. None at all.
The first time Jongdae realized he was kind of in love was about a year after he’d met Yixing. That was possibly the most terrifying moment of his life. They’d been at the library, of all places, studying for a Chinese test.
Jongdae’s shit at Chinese. He always has been, and he always will be. Yixing was Jongdae’s fifth tutor, each of the previous unfortunate souls having gotten fed up with Jongdae after a few sessions together. Jongdae had finally made a last-ditch attempt to pass Chinese by asking Yixing, who at that point was little more than an acquaintance, to help him.
And Yixing was so gloriously patient. When Jongdae continuously replaced third tones with second tones, Yixing would have a different yet gentle way of correcting him every time. When Jongdae mixed up the words for “chopsticks” and “child,” Yixing had cocked his head to the side thoughtfully before explaining the mistake to Jongdae. When Jongdae accidentally cursed at Yixing, Yixing would tell him exactly what he’d said and advise him not to say it to people he was supposed to respect. It was so nice, is all Jongdae can say. Nice. More than nice. He’s still not entirely sure.
It was about five weeks into their tutoring sessions the day Jongdae realized it. They were practicing conversations about travel. Yixing had just asked Jongdae where he wanted to go on vacation, and Jongdae had given him the standard textbook answer of “China, because I want to improve my Chinese.”
“Good,” Yixing had said. “Now ask me.”
“Where…” Jongdae stuttered, trying to remember which tones the words had, “do you want to travel?”
And Yixing had given him a reply he didn’t understand. But when he looked confused, Yixing smiled and translated for him. “I want to travel to a valley where the wind whistles through the hills. Somewhere calm where I can rest and listen. Where I can think happily.”
Yixing’s dimples made an appearance as he translated the description of his paradise for Jongdae. His eyes sparkled, and Jongdae nearly choked. “Are you high?” he demanded, making a feeble attempt to divert the realization that was inevitably dawning on him.
Yixing had laughed and Jongdae had died a little inside, but that was just the beginning.
A month later, Jongdae’s friend Minseok had told him that there was a jazz group looking for a singer, and that he knew Jongdae loved singing. It was a paying job that got gigs frequently, Minseok had said, and Jongdae seemed to be the perfect fit. Jongdae had been in need of a job, so he’d accepted eagerly and awaited the first group meeting with impatience.
And when the meeting did come around, who should be the group’s pianist but Zhang Yixing himself?
“Yixing?” Jongdae had blinked when he saw his friend. Yixing smiled at him, waving cutely and Jongdae had the simultaneous feeling of nausea and adoration.
“Surprise!” Yixing had grinned. “Welcome to the Raindrops.”
And that was that. And Jongdae wanted to die a little.
They get to the gig by taxi, and Jongdae spends the entire ride with his headphones in his ears. He tells Yixing he’s listening to the songs they’re going to perform, but in all honesty he’s not listening to anything at all; he just doesn’t want to talk to Yixing.
Also, Yixing’s singing. But Jongdae doesn’t really want to listen to that. It’s just...ambient noise. Yes.
Yixing taps him on the shoulder when they arrive. “We’re here,” he says, and Jongdae scoffs a little, pushing Yixing’s arm away.
“I know,” he replies, climbing out of the taxi and heading towards the lounge. It’s a glimmering, clear evening, with the stars shining despite the bright city lights. Yixing sidles up next to Jongdae and smiles at him, and Jongdae looks away. That smile is painful. He speeds up, but Yixing just matches his pace and it almost feels like a race to the entrance.
To their surprise, Chanyeol, their drummer, meets them at the door.
“Guys,” he says, and both Jongdae and Yixing are confused. Chanyeol is usually practicing or polishing his hi-hat or something. “Guys, they say there’ll be a talent scout here tonight. A talent scout. You do realize what that means, right?”
“We could go big,” Jongdae breathes, realizing exactly what that means. They could go big. They could go huge. Jongdae could be a real professional singer, and not just an amateur. The Raindrops could become famous.
Yixing sighs. “I don’t know, guys. I like just doing this. It’s fun. I don’t want my hobby to become my job and something that I hate, you know?”
“How could you ever hate this?” Chanyeol says, punching Yixing in the arm playfully. Yixing shrugs with a smile, and Jongdae frowns because isn’t that smile his?
No, it’s not.
“So, Chanyeol,” Jongdae tries not to growl, “that means we’re going to have to perform amazingly tonight, right?”
“Right,” Chanyeol says, leaving Yixing (thankfully) alone. “Come on, let’s get set up.” They all walk into the building and Jongdae can’t help but think about making it big. He, unlike Yixing, is not satisfied with this being a part time job. He wants to be a singer.
“Jongdae,” Yixing says, sliding his arm underneath Jongdae’s when Chanyeol is out of earshot, “do you think we’ll make it big?”
“I don’t know,” Jongdae says. It scares him how much he likes the feeling of Yixing on his arm. He decides to just relish in it for a little longer. “It would be cool, though, right?”
“I guess,” Yixing says. They stop in a hallway near the dressing room, and Yixing looks almost sad. “Jongdae...I know you’ve been edgy around me recently. Are you...I mean, do I make you uncomfortable?”
Jongdae is shocked. Why would Yixing bring this up now, of all times? “Yixing…”
“You know I like you,” Yixing says, and it’s more of a statement than a guess. “You’ve known for a while that I’m in love with you, haven’t you?”
Jongdae looks down at his shoes. “Yes,” he says.
“And you don’t love me back?” Yixing mumbles pitifully, obviously voicing a big fear of his. Jongdae looks back up at Yixing, and he doesn’t know how to respond. He loves Yixing. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to not want to, but he can’t help but feel that love is such a waste of energy. And yet he does love Yixing.
So instead of completely escaping the situation, he does something totally crazy. He kisses Yixing hard. He grabs the back of Yixing’s head and mashes their mouths together entirely ungracefully and the thoughts going through his head are like little knives that he can’t control. When he pulls back, he can’t make eye contact with Yixing, but he can tell his friend (friend?) is shocked.
“Y-you kissed me,” Yixing stutters, and Jongdae can see him touching his lips out of the corner of his eye. Nope. He doesn’t want to look at that.
“Yeah,” Jongdae says, turning away. Fuck, this is bad, this is bad. “Sorry.”
“I liked it, though,” Yixing says quietly, almost as if he’s consoling Jongdae. Jongdae hates this, he hates it, he can’t do this. “Do...do you want to do it again?”
Yes. Yes Jongdae wants to do it again. He wants to do it forever. But at the same time he really doesn’t want anything to do with Yixing. He wants to run away and never come back.
He does run. Well, it’s more of a very fast walk to the dressing room but he turns and leaves Yixing behind and he can hear Yixing calling his name but he can’t look back. What was he thinking?
He retreats into the corner of the dressing room and starts singing arpeggio after arpeggio. Calm down, Jongdae, calm down. It’s not a big deal.
No, it’s a Big Fucking Deal. He kissed Yixing and he really didn’t mean to it just kind of happened Yixing looked so cute and sad and he wanted to make him happy and -
Fuck. Well now Jongdae is screwed big time because now Yixing is going to have ~feelings~ and Jongdae obviously can’t deal with that. He doesn’t want to have to dote. He has to sing, for God’s sake. Jongdae likes singing more than anything. He doesn’t have time for Yixing and his stupid emotions.
“Yo, we’re on in five,” Lu Han, the bassist, says. Okay, okay. Jongdae can do this. He’s got to sing like his heart depends on it - life. Like his life depends on it. Not heart. He’s not going to become some dumb fuck with feelings just because he kissed Yixing. Not happening.
Arpeggios. C major, D flat major, D major, E flat major...G harmonic minor, A flat harmonic minor…Breathe in, breathe out. There’s a talent scout out there and he cannot let his mind get in the way. He cannot.
“We’re on!” Chanyeol cries, and they bustle onto the stage, where their instruments and microphones are set up. Jongdae decidedly avoids Yixing and they don’t have a chance to talk before the set starts. It’s better that way.
Minseok and Kyungsoo, two of the lounge’s other singers are joining them tonight as background vocals. They start harmonies with Yixing and Luhan (and Jongdae tries not to focus on Yixing’s voice), beautiful, smooth harmonies. It’s Jongdae’s cue.
Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely night dreaming of a song.
The melody haunts my reverie,
And I am once again with you.
Yixing loves this song. He loves the bass guitar, the smooth clarinet melody, the dreamy xylophone chimes. Jongdae loves this song too.
When our love was new,
And each kiss an inspiration.
But that was long ago,
And now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song.
He tries not to, he really tries, but he can’t help glancing back at Yixing during the clarinet interlude. He can’t help it. Yixing smiles at him before returning to the xylophone, and Jongdae wants to swallow his own heart but at the same time he wants to belt out all his emotions. Get rid of all of them through the song. So he does. He sings strong, clearly.
The crowd cheers after he finishes the song, and he can’t help but feel a little conflicted. He looks back at Yixing again. Yixing flashes him a big grin and a thumbs up this time, and Jongdae just shakes his head. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Yixing is too...too...infuriating? In any case, he needs to stop thinking about Yixing, so he motions to the band to start the next song.
The more I see you,
The more I want you.
Somehow this feeling
Just grows and grows.
He can’t help but focus on the piano melody. He can see Yixing’s graceful fingers dancing across the black and white keys, and damn it, if he doesn’t fall more and more in love with Yixing...it sucks. He can’t have this happen to him.
With every sigh,
I become more mad about you.
More lost without you,
And so it goes.
Who picked the setlist for tonight? Why do all of these songs remind him of Yixing? Why does he want to make sure he sings them well?
It’s the talent scout, that’s what it is. Not because Yixing picked the setlist and filled it with his favorite songs for Jongdae’s voice.
I know the one for me
Can only be you.
My arms won’t free you,
And my heart won’t try.
The crowd cheers again, and Jongdae’s ready to sing his heart out for the rest of the set. Ready to sing his heart out for the person who’s taken it.
“Your bow tie is crooked!” Minseok cries at Lu Han, getting all flustered. Chanyeol’s pacing around the room, and the rest of the band is muttering to themselves or trying to distract each other somehow.
It’s the talent scout they’re all worried about, but that’s not what’s on Jongdae’s mind.
Yixing returns from thanking the stage managers, as he usually does, and Jongdae wants to avoid him but he can’t because Yixing just comes up to him and takes his hand.
“Let go,” Jongdae says, and Yixing does, reluctantly.
“Jongdae,” he stutters, “look, I...I’m confused. And I think you probably are too, right? But it doesn’t have to be confusing. I don’t expect anything from you besides what you already give me plus maybe a little more acknowledgement.”
“I can’t give you that, Yixing,” Jongdae admits, and it’s painful for him to say.
“I know. I know,” Yixing says. Why is he always so patient? Why is he so selfless when Jongdae is being the world’s biggest ass? “So we can stay friends, if that’s better. I just don’t want you to ignore me anymore.”
When Jongdae looks, Yixing’s eyes are brimming with tears.
“I -”
“She’s here!” Chanyeol cries, running to the door and opening it for the talent scout. She walks in, tall and beautiful, and glances around the room as Chanyeol takes her hand. “Welcome,” he says. She smiles at him.
“Thank you! Your performance tonight was quite lovely.” Chanyeol beams at her. She looks around again, this time, her eyes landing on Jongdae. She walks towards him, stopping between him and Yixing. “You, sir, have the makings of an excellent pop vocals singer.”
“Thank you,” Jongdae says, looking at Yixing again. Yixing no longer has tears in his eyes.
“How long have you been singing professionally? Your singing tonight was incredibly soulful and beautiful. I’ve never seen someone sing those songs with such feeling,” she says, looking through her notebook.
“Thank you, but I’m an amateur,” Jongdae replies. “This is my more-exciting-than-my-real-job side job.”
“How would you like to make it your real job?” she asks, and Jongdae whips his head around to face her fully.
“Excuse me?” he chokes, and she laughs, her red lips framing her perfectly white teeth.
“Mmhmm! We could ship you out to Seoul this weekend and we’d jump start your launch to fame. With your face and voice, it’d be easy as pie. You’d be making a killing on your first album, I’m willing to bet on it.”
Jongdae can’t believe this. First album implies that not only will he have his own album, he’ll have multiple. And he’ll make “a killing.” Starting this weekend.
“What do you say?” she asks, and Jongdae can’t even speak.
“He’d love to,” Yixing says quietly, and with the sad tone in Yixing’s voice comes reality swirling back into his head. The talent scout claps his back.
“How about it, Mr. Kim?” she asks again, and Jongdae just nods. He’s wanted this forever. He shouldn’t second guess himself. “Great! Meet me at Cafe Decalcomania at ten tomorrow morning so we can go over your contract and other paperwork. See you then! Great show tonight!” She walks off in her high heels, epitomizing glamor and everything Jongdae’s wanted in life.
He just doesn’t feel that satisfied all of a sudden.
Looking up at the rest of the group, jealousy is clearly painted on all of their faces. He’s sorry, he really is. But on Yixing’s face is an indescribable emotion.
“I...guys, I honestly don’t know what to say,” Jongdae says, looking around. “Like, I...I don’t understand.”
“Jongdae,” Yixing says, “this has been your dream since forever ago. Go for it. It’ll make you happy.”
Jongdae hurts. He knows that all Yixing wants is for him to be happy. Yixing doesn’t even care about his own happiness as long as Jongdae has what he wants.
But what does Jongdae want, really?
“Where is Chen’s bow tie?” Baekhyun, Jongdae’s manager cries. “He’s on in four and a half minutes and there is no fucking bow tie on his neck!”
Jongdae wants to just shut everything out. He has a headache, he hasn’t slept a full eight hours in weeks, he’s hungry all the time, and he never feels fully healthy anymore. The only reason he can still sing is the honey ginger tea they keep feeding him, and it’s starting to hurt his stomach. He rubs his eyes, and Baekhyun screams because he’s just smudged his eyeliner.
“Get makeup back here!” he shouts. “Chen’s eyeliner needs to be fixed right this fucking minute or I swear to God I will have someone here murdered! Or fired!”
A makeup artist scurries up to him and dabs makeup remover on his face to get rid of the smudges and then reapplies the eyeliner in one swift and expert stroke. Jongdae’s half asleep.
His dreams lately have been of a soft couch, warm hands, movies droning on in the background. Fingers carding through his hair, a soft voice humming “Stardust.”
“Jongdae, wake the fuck up or I will make you go to dance practice instead of letting you sleep early tonight,” Baekhyun snaps, clocking Jongdae on the head.
Jongdae sighs. “Can we like...spread out my schedules from now on?” he asks. “I haven’t been feeling well lately.”
Baekhyun looks at him like he’s the world’s biggest idiot. “Are you fucking kidding me? Spreading out your schedules is like a death sentence for you. Your career is hinging on you being omnipresent, Jongdae.”
“Maybe I want a death sentence,” Jongdae mutters. This is not what he’d hoped it would be.
“Don’t fucking say that,” Baekhyun says, then turns around. “Where is Chen’s motherfucking bow tie?”
His bow tie arrives just in time for him to go onstage, and when the audience cheers for him, he flashes his well-trained, whitened and corrected smile, theatrically adjusts his bow tie, and lets the audience admire his perfectly coiffed and over-gelled hair. He sings, but it’s like his mind is on autopilot. He doesn’t even remember which songs he’s singing.
It’s been eight months since he’s last seen or spoken to anyone from his old home. Including Yixing.
Chen’s First Anniversary Fan Event is a big deal. The management had evidently underestimated the number of fans he had and the event tickets had sold out in less than three minutes.
He can tell that hasn’t stopped many fans from showing up anyway. Security is tight.
He talks with his fans - he really does appreciate them - but he misses having deep conversations. Every girl that comes up is either stuttering or overly bold, and most of them tell him the same thing. “You’re so handsome, I love your voice, your music is my life.” They ask him questions once in a while but it’s just nothing he really cares to answer.
Except one of his fans is unusual. A bigger hand than normal sets down a poster and when Jongdae looks up, Yixing is standing before him.
“Hi,” he smiles. “I’m a big fan of yours.”
“Yixing,” Jongdae gasps, and then he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, the lump forming in his throat.
“Sign it, Jongdae,” Baekhyun drawls from behind him. “There’s a hundred other fans waiting for your autograph. Hurry up.”
“Yixing,” Jongdae can’t even say anything. Everything he’s missed this entire time is standing right in front of him. “I -”
“Jongdae, I’m serious,” Baekhyun says again. “Yes, he’s a guy. No, it doesn’t matter. Sign the fucking thing and move on.” Jongdae desperately wants to tell Baekhyun to fuck off but he can’t take his eyes off of Yixing.
“Sorry, I’ll go,” Yixing smiles, and Jongdae can’t even think because he’s on emotional overdrive. He stands up, shocking the fans next to him, and he grabs Yixing by the shoulders.
“How are you?” he cries. “Are you okay? I - I don’t even - Yixing -”
Yixing looks shocked and he smiles. “I’m fine. We all miss you a lot. You’re so successful. We’re proud.”
Baekhyun is making distressed noises but Jongdae doesn’t want to let Yixing go. He shouldn’t have let Yixing go.
“I’m causing a disturbance,” Yixing says shyly, and Jongdae knows he’s the one causing the disturbance.
“I was in love with you the entire time,” Jongdae whispers just loud enough for Yixing to hear. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Yixing sighs with a melancholy smile, prying his arms away from Jongdae’s grip. “I know,” he says. “But it’s too late now, isn’t it? Bye, Jongdae. Good luck. You’re amazing.”
Security ushers Yixing along, and the next fan comes up quietly, looking concerned. And Jongdae feels bad that he has to ignore her, but he’s crying too hard. He gets up and goes backstage, deaf to Baekhyun’s scolding and maybe worried chatter.
Jongdae can’t stop crying. Tears keep streaming down his cheeks, into his mouth, dripping onto his pristine white shirt. How Yixing can still be so patient, so caring, so utterly wonderful after Jongdae has ignored him for over a year is completely beyond his understanding. And it’s all he wants. Yixing let him follow what he thought his dream was, and he was wrong. He was so wrong.
“I quit,” Jongdae sobs, “I quit, I quit, I quit. This isn’t what I wanted. This isn’t what I wanted; I quit, I quit, I quit!”
“Calm down,” Baekhyun says, trying to soothe Jongdae, but it’s not going to work. He can’t continue like this. Not when the thing he loves the most is way out of his reach.
“I can’t do it,” Jongdae says, turning to Baekhyun. “I was in love with him!” Baekhyun falls silent. “I’m still in love with him,” he cries. “I just...I left him at a complicated time, and he was so gracious about it and he told me to follow my dream. But I don’t think this was my dream in the end. My dream was...it was…”
“It was him,” Baekhyun replies quietly. “Still is, right?” Jongdae nods.
“I fucked up,” Jongdae tells his manager. Baekhyun puts a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.
“You know how I was Kai’s manager before I was yours? When I became his manager, he was at the height of his career. I know I’m not that much older than you are, but I have advice. I was invited to be the manager of Korea’s biggest star. I left my home and came here, even though my mother was sick, because I thought it was my dream. I was so busy, I didn’t visit her. And she died while I was gone. I didn’t even find out until two weeks after it had happened.”
Jongdae can’t speak. He had no idea.
“Yeah, it sucks, right? I still lose sleep over it, and God knows how little sleep I already get. But I don’t want you to have to suffer through something like what I had to suffer through,” Baekhyun says.
“Why is everyone so nice to me when I’m such a fucking asshole?” Jongdae asks, rubbing his eyes.
“That is an excellent question,” Baekhyun laughs.
“So, I guess I’m quitting, then,” Jongdae sighs. If he has to choose between his lifelong dream and the person he’s almost positive is his soulmate, it’s got to be Yixing.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Baekhyun says. “No, Jongdae, you cannot quit. I’m not letting you do that. This is my job we’re talking about too.”
Jongdae furrows his brow. “Then what was the point of what you just told me?”
“I have a better idea,” Baekhyun says slyly.
“Where the fuck is Jongdae’s bow tie?” Baekhyun cries, but Jongdae taps him on the shoulder.
“It’s on me,” Jongdae says with a grin. “Pay attention.”
“God damn it, don’t scare me like that. You’re on in two and a half minutes and - WHERE ARE JONGDAE’S CUFFLINKS?” Baekhyun’s nerves are fraying terribly and it’s kind of funny. “This is a debut stage, people! It has to be perfect! I will have someone drawn and quartered if the cufflinks aren’t here in ten seconds!”
“I have them, sorry,” Yixing says, handing Baekhyun the silver cufflinks with shaking hands. Jongdae notices how nervous Yixing is. It’s cute.
Baekhyun nearly throws the cufflinks at Jongdae before running over to harass other members of the show’s staff. Jongdae’s grateful for the time he has with Yixing before the stage starts.
“You’ll be great, Yixing,” he says, pressing a kiss to Yixing’s lips. Yixing visibly relaxes, smiling at Jongdae.
“Thanks, Jongdae. And...you know, thank you for waiting for me.”
Jongdae hugs Yixing around the middle - “DON’T CREASE HIS TUXEDO!” Baekhyun cries - and he kisses Yixing’s dimple. “No. Thank you for waiting for me. I’ve never deserved someone as patient as you.”
“That’s exactly what you need,” Yixing teases, and Jongdae laughs happily.
“Thirty seconds!” someone cries.
“I love you,” he says, and Yixing looks happier than Jongdae has ever seen him. The staff starts to usher them onto the stage.
“Ten seconds!”
Yixing grabs Jongdae’s arm before heading to the piano. The adoration in his eyes is evident, and Jongdae thinks that while all the pain and suffering that led up to this moment was unnecessary, he’s forgetting it when he sees that look on Yixing’s face. “I love you too.”
The stage lights start to rise, and Jongdae feels his heart pound with happiness as he takes his place behind the microphone. He’s never felt so fulfilled in his life.
A spotlight turns on, and Jongdae smiles dazzlingly at the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, “I’d like to introduce The Raindrops!”
The music swings, Jongdae can hear Yixing’s fingers dancing across the piano keys, and he knows he’s made the right choice.
Let’s fall in love.
Why shouldn’t we fall in love?
Our hearts are made of it.
Let’s take a chance; why be afraid of it?
dear sophrosynes: I'm sorry I didn't make it canon! I hope you like it anyway! I had fun writing this one. I also suggest listening to the songs I referenced in the fic :)