one great step: myungsoo
i obviously do not know infinite in real life! and i still don't really know much about them (relatively new new new new new fan) so i probably took a lot of creative license haha. but i really enjoyed writing this and even though this may not/never be the most nuanced, real-to-life myungsoo ever--i still really enjoyed it. i hope you do too.
"some infinities are bigger than other infinities"
“Opening: Jailed”
They began with a prayer, like always. Sunggyu led them in a circle; hands intertwined with the staff members. Myungsoo’s was in the grip of their make-up artist. He couldn’t tell if it was his hand that was the clammy one or hers. It was hard. Sungyeol stood on his right, head bowed in reverence, as Sunggyu finished up with a quiet “Amen”. Myungsoo finished a beat behind. It was time for the show. He watched as Sungjong touched and adjusted to make sure everything was fine, while the blood surged in his ears. It always did that whenever he was nervous. Like when the cameras rolled for the first time. The screams outside were getting louder. They twisted their way into his ears, and Myungsoo shuddered. It was time.
Again.
“Destiny”
It was so dark beyond the stage. Myungsoo had this same feeling every time he stood on one. The music could not be louder than the fans. He went through the motions, blood rushing even harder as he danced, made formations. Sungyeol was sharper this evening, he thought as he made his way behind.
He could see Howon’s sweat roll down the back of his neck; they were so close, yet still apart. Nobody was anybody on the stage, Myungsoo thought as if he were a sage. Everybody was anybody, for the taking, for the imagination of the thousands of lightsticks that waved in unison.
They circled around him as the song came to an end, the last three beats shuddering through his chest. Myungsoo thought it was great. This was a great start.
“Silhouette - interlude”
The fans loved this. Myungsoo was out of his jacket in two seconds, and watched as Woohyun struggled slightly with his. He still looked fluid, but was scowling. Woohyun liked taking his shirt off but always struggled with buttons. Howon was on his right, breathing heavily, two fingers curled around his wireless microphone. Myungsoo narrowed his eyes, took in the screams, and exhaled.
“Paradise”
This was one of his favourite songs. It was on the repack of the album that truly shot them into the spotlight, and Myungsoo had a certain sort of sentimentality for it. He could no longer walk around without a mask when they were promoting for Paradise, and he was ok with that.
They had trained extensively for this song. Howon took it upon himself to bulk them all up for this tank top segment. Sunggyu resisted only for a moment. Sunggyu, Myungsoo thought, had an excessive obsession with the fans. Sure everyone thought that the fans were the ones hopelessly in love. But Sunggyu loved them more: the attention, the coddling, he loved all of it. Myungsoo thought it strange that he could love people he’d never be able to completely remember. But that was Sunggyu.
He tried not to limp when his line was over. Out of the corner of his mouth Sungyeol gave him the look. The one that said are you ok and don’t let it show all at the same time. Over the years they had learnt to arrange their priorities into a correct list. Self was last. Company interest was first. Fans were somewhere in between.
“Going to You”
The last two (three?) songs passed in a blur and now he was standing in front of a microphone, singing a ballad. It was better for Myungsoo actually. He could never decide if dancing or singing was worse. But you signed up to be a singer, Woohyun once cried back in indignation. Did he? Myungsoo could not remember any longer, but he now enjoyed the life of one.
When it was not his turn to sing Myungsoo would look at the sea of LED light boards. Sometimes he would spot a funny one and try not to snigger. Other times he just read them off in his head, languages he could or could not understand. Then they would remind him that he was surrounded by people who too could not understand him, but loved him.
“(1/3) of 3 Minutes-Sungyeol & Sungjong”
During solo stages they could rest a bit. Myungsoo was into the habit of zoning out whenever they fussed over his hair and makeup. During concert period no one ever changed on their own anymore. Their stylists would stand inside the cramped cubicles with them and pull shirts off. Times like that Myungsoo felt five again.
Howon sat on his left, eyes closed. It was him and Dongwoo up next. Myungsoo had no idea where Dongwoo was but could hear his laughter somewhere behind. In this time of confusion he was the only one able to do that. On his right Sunggyu was looking in the mirror and leaning forward nervously. The hair people had to constantly pull him back.
Myungsoo debated on replying his mother’s Kakaotalk message. His make up artist was hovering, touching up eyeliner that had smudged when he’d accidentally rubbed his eyes. She berated him while fixing it up but Myungsoo thought she was incredible. His mother had asked him to do a good job in her message. Not be affected, and just do a good job. He missed her matter-of-factly ways.
Moonsoo has also sent one along the lines of that, but also with the unsubtle undertone of asking whether it was true or not. My friends all say it is but I’m on your side, his brother promised. But Myungsoo did not know how to reply. Some parts of it were true, some parts weren’t. The lines got blurred very often in his day-to-day life.
His make up artist let him off and he examined himself in the mirror. He could no longer see the dark circles that were there in the afternoon. Outside the air was thumping and he heard Sungyeol scream let me hear you say! There was never an end to the sentence.
“Special Girl-Infinite H”
Woohyun slid into the chair that Howon had just vacated and smiled. Myungsoo smiled back. He could see his reflection-it was pretty, the way that they were supposed to be. I’m tired, Woohyun yawned. Sunggyu had his eyes closed beside them, fingers tapping on his thigh. Close your eyes, Myungsoo suggested. But my makeup will smudge, Woohyun shook his head.
When he was filming his drama he would sleep with his forehead on his arms. The way high schoolers did in school. That way his makeup would stay safe, even if his bangs were a tad too flat. For the greater good, Myungsoo would think. For the greater good was their shared motto in life. Nobody did anything because they wanted to. They thought it over, made sure the group stayed safe.
The company had called him in two weeks prior, in the back of the car. They made sure to say that if he had anything going on, he’d better cut it off. Now. Myungsoo sat in the back of the car with his hat pulled over his face, confused, and nodded. What he always did when faced with a situation. His manager later asked him if he even knew what the internet people were saying about him. Myungsoo didn’t want to know.
Out of the members Howon had been the most understanding. I know you need friends, he’d stressed the night they were in Yokohama, but you have to choose them carefully. Myungsoo had pushed his room service around in its plate then. Choose your friends carefully. He’d forgotten that he was not his again. Do a good job. His mother’s words rang in his head then, and when he looked up at Howon he nodded again.
That girl he knew. The company sent him a copy of the press release when they distributed it. It was not a lie. But Myungsoo wondered how much she knew about him. Or he about her. How much did he know about himself? Myungsoo wondered as Howon, somewhere high up there, mispronounced “special” over and over again.
“That Year’s Summer”
He had picked up the guitar some time in middle school. It was to impress a girl, of course. Sungyeol had snorted when he told him the story. It didn’t work out well in the end, but Myungsoo continued on with the guitar.
The company always put him with one whenever they were to perform acoustic versions of their slower songs. Acoustic versions. Myungsoo watched out for his fingering as the fans sang along. Sungjong was smiling beside him. He seemed a lot happier now, despite the insomnia last night. Sungjong had been battling it for ages. Not a lot of people knew.
Sitting on a chair made his leg feel better. In the time that had taken him to not completely forget the choreography for two songs, his knee had already been through three braces. This was the fourth. Again Sungyeol gave him the look. Myungsoo smiled, and the fans thought it was for them.
“Love U Like You”
His last girlfriend had liked teddy bears. The prop reminded him of her when they first showed him the way they were going to map out his solo stage. Dongwoo had laughed incessantly. Myungsoo on the other hand was less perturbed. His father once asked why he was always so cold on television (his father would record performances, his mother once told him secretly) when he wasn’t really like that. Myungsoo found it hard to explain the idea of a “concept”. The fans like it, he said in the end. It wasn’t too far from the truth either.
Somewhere in the distance a sign read “Myungsoo marree me”. It was misspelt in Korean. Myungsoo had never really thought of marrying until he was on the cusp of graduating high school. The last girlfriend that liked teddy bears was a good girl. Once he thought of planning a grand proposal that involved bears and two thousand pink balloons. Then they had their debut. Then they broke up. It was all too much of a pity. Myungsoo still thought of that farcical plan from time to time. A reminder of what was never to be.
He did pretty good for this stop. No voice breaking, no sudden urges to cry. As he buried his face into the fantastically huge teddy bear he suddenly thought of the last girlfriend. His last girlfriend. How did she look like? Then the fans screamed and it was over.
“60 Seconds (Orchestra version)-Sunggyu”
Sunggyu had spent hours in the planning meeting for his solo performance. He was intensely interested in everything, even the details nobody cared for and that the interns were in charge of. Myungsoo found his enthusiasm endearing. Sungyeol, however, did not, and so they stood at the side and watched together.
Myungsoo envied Sunggyu. It was one thing to be talented, another to be hardworking. Sunggyu was both. Sungyeol snorted as Sunggyu walked to stage center. Look at his hands, he laughed. Myungsoo looked. Sunggyu had his hands balled into fists. Every single time he was nervous. Every single time. Myungsoo had no idea how being a perfectionist was like.
Sunggyu had wanted to talk when they were in Bangkok. Howon graciously stepped out so it was just them both. Sunggyu had that look. It wasn’t much different from the one Sungyeol had, simultaneously wanting to be concerned but not being able to. Sunggyu had his duties to fulfill, Myungsoo thought. And he had none. You just need to ride this over, Sunggyu said while tapping his fingers on the tightly stretched duvet atop Howon’s bed, it’ll be over soon. His voice sounded strained. Too much singing, maybe. Myungsoo doubted it but believed Sunggyu anyway.
“Mother”
He missed his mother all the time. It was a funny thing to tell the members so he didn’t. Except for Dongwoo because he too felt the same. When Myungsoo had wanted to be a singer, his mother never said anything. That was enough support. His father too retreated into silence but it was not comforting the way his mother’s was.
He had replied his mother just before they went up on stage again. Her reply was quick: God bless you Myungsoo. She was devout. He was devout because of her. Sometimes when he couldn’t distinguish reality from what was otherwise he would call her. Mom? He called out tentatively that time they were in Hong Kong. Myungsoo? She said, tired, but there. Howon snored lightly in the bed beside and the air conditioning was cold and all was right in the world. Then. For now.
“Be Mine”
Woohyun had cried so badly when they first won, he hiccupped in his sleep. Dongwoo was no better. Myungsoo only did when he was in the safety of his blanket. Now Sungyeol stood next to him in the dark, and they whispered in the safety of it. My legs are going to fucking give out! Sungyeol was gnashing his teeth for sure. Myungsoo laughed. After that the music began, and he was shortly blinded by the stage lights.
The signs always seemed to be the same. His name repeated in too many colours over and over. Occasionally he’d be able to see the faces behind the LED lights. Sometimes he remembered them. Most of the time not. But they expected him to, so Myungsoo would try to. Pretend to, mostly. It made them happy and that was supposed to make him happy too.
This song had them practicing choreography for close to half a year. Non-stop, intensive, backbreaking choreography. His knee got busted then and never fully recovered. The managers made sure that nobody knew. When he went to the hospital he went from his father’s office in a taxi. It was a strangely effective method of letting him be alone. Woohyun teased him for not receiving gifts of knee braces and boxes of ginseng. Myungsoo then felt it a pity, most part on account of the ginseng.
When they’d won he was liberated. They were liberated. Moved out of the smallest house he’d ever lived in, into a spanking new apartment just blocks away from girl groups. Success was at the tips of their tongues. Sunggyu stayed up every night for a week, thumbing through his bankbook. Sungjong would look at him do it. Myungsoo would wake up and forget they’d moved and have an internal freak out. That was the true sign of success, he thought.
“Come Back Again”
Sungjong whispered a short fighting! into his ear before they took their positions. The fans were singing. Their Korean was stilted and weird but times like this awkwardness could be forgiven. Myungsoo watched as Sunggyu opened and closed his fists again, like he was preparing for a blood pressure examination. Maybe he really needed one. Woohyun and Dongwoo were playing around with their thumbs. Then Howon slid an arm over his shoulder. Good? Howon was always concise. Myungsoo nodded.
They would come back again and again and again. If there were stadiums to be filled, people to serenade, they would do it. Myungsoo would do it. It was in them now, etched in. He could dance five songs back to back and not make a single mistake. If his sixteen-year-old self could see him now, what would he say? Fucking dope. Myungsoo was a quiet, uncouth youth.
He still could not understand his life. But perhaps there was no need to. As he danced his way to the front of their formation he realised this. There was no need to completely comprehend the way he lived, the way he was immortalized and desecrated in the mind of someone he would never know. And that was the beauty of it. Myungsoo marveled at it.
Come back again. The fans screamed that. He heard that. They all took it to heart. Come back again. They would. They had to. Myungsoo’s fingers trembled as the speakers pumped out the last few beats. I’ll come back again. We’ll come back again. One, two, three-end. The misspelled sign flashed in front of his eyes again, Myungsoo marree me, and it was over. All over.
(for now)
"some infinities are bigger than other infinities"
“Opening: Jailed”
They began with a prayer, like always. Sunggyu led them in a circle; hands intertwined with the staff members. Myungsoo’s was in the grip of their make-up artist. He couldn’t tell if it was his hand that was the clammy one or hers. It was hard. Sungyeol stood on his right, head bowed in reverence, as Sunggyu finished up with a quiet “Amen”. Myungsoo finished a beat behind. It was time for the show. He watched as Sungjong touched and adjusted to make sure everything was fine, while the blood surged in his ears. It always did that whenever he was nervous. Like when the cameras rolled for the first time. The screams outside were getting louder. They twisted their way into his ears, and Myungsoo shuddered. It was time.
Again.
“Destiny”
It was so dark beyond the stage. Myungsoo had this same feeling every time he stood on one. The music could not be louder than the fans. He went through the motions, blood rushing even harder as he danced, made formations. Sungyeol was sharper this evening, he thought as he made his way behind.
He could see Howon’s sweat roll down the back of his neck; they were so close, yet still apart. Nobody was anybody on the stage, Myungsoo thought as if he were a sage. Everybody was anybody, for the taking, for the imagination of the thousands of lightsticks that waved in unison.
They circled around him as the song came to an end, the last three beats shuddering through his chest. Myungsoo thought it was great. This was a great start.
“Silhouette - interlude”
The fans loved this. Myungsoo was out of his jacket in two seconds, and watched as Woohyun struggled slightly with his. He still looked fluid, but was scowling. Woohyun liked taking his shirt off but always struggled with buttons. Howon was on his right, breathing heavily, two fingers curled around his wireless microphone. Myungsoo narrowed his eyes, took in the screams, and exhaled.
“Paradise”
This was one of his favourite songs. It was on the repack of the album that truly shot them into the spotlight, and Myungsoo had a certain sort of sentimentality for it. He could no longer walk around without a mask when they were promoting for Paradise, and he was ok with that.
They had trained extensively for this song. Howon took it upon himself to bulk them all up for this tank top segment. Sunggyu resisted only for a moment. Sunggyu, Myungsoo thought, had an excessive obsession with the fans. Sure everyone thought that the fans were the ones hopelessly in love. But Sunggyu loved them more: the attention, the coddling, he loved all of it. Myungsoo thought it strange that he could love people he’d never be able to completely remember. But that was Sunggyu.
He tried not to limp when his line was over. Out of the corner of his mouth Sungyeol gave him the look. The one that said are you ok and don’t let it show all at the same time. Over the years they had learnt to arrange their priorities into a correct list. Self was last. Company interest was first. Fans were somewhere in between.
“Going to You”
The last two (three?) songs passed in a blur and now he was standing in front of a microphone, singing a ballad. It was better for Myungsoo actually. He could never decide if dancing or singing was worse. But you signed up to be a singer, Woohyun once cried back in indignation. Did he? Myungsoo could not remember any longer, but he now enjoyed the life of one.
When it was not his turn to sing Myungsoo would look at the sea of LED light boards. Sometimes he would spot a funny one and try not to snigger. Other times he just read them off in his head, languages he could or could not understand. Then they would remind him that he was surrounded by people who too could not understand him, but loved him.
“(1/3) of 3 Minutes-Sungyeol & Sungjong”
During solo stages they could rest a bit. Myungsoo was into the habit of zoning out whenever they fussed over his hair and makeup. During concert period no one ever changed on their own anymore. Their stylists would stand inside the cramped cubicles with them and pull shirts off. Times like that Myungsoo felt five again.
Howon sat on his left, eyes closed. It was him and Dongwoo up next. Myungsoo had no idea where Dongwoo was but could hear his laughter somewhere behind. In this time of confusion he was the only one able to do that. On his right Sunggyu was looking in the mirror and leaning forward nervously. The hair people had to constantly pull him back.
Myungsoo debated on replying his mother’s Kakaotalk message. His make up artist was hovering, touching up eyeliner that had smudged when he’d accidentally rubbed his eyes. She berated him while fixing it up but Myungsoo thought she was incredible. His mother had asked him to do a good job in her message. Not be affected, and just do a good job. He missed her matter-of-factly ways.
Moonsoo has also sent one along the lines of that, but also with the unsubtle undertone of asking whether it was true or not. My friends all say it is but I’m on your side, his brother promised. But Myungsoo did not know how to reply. Some parts of it were true, some parts weren’t. The lines got blurred very often in his day-to-day life.
His make up artist let him off and he examined himself in the mirror. He could no longer see the dark circles that were there in the afternoon. Outside the air was thumping and he heard Sungyeol scream let me hear you say! There was never an end to the sentence.
“Special Girl-Infinite H”
Woohyun slid into the chair that Howon had just vacated and smiled. Myungsoo smiled back. He could see his reflection-it was pretty, the way that they were supposed to be. I’m tired, Woohyun yawned. Sunggyu had his eyes closed beside them, fingers tapping on his thigh. Close your eyes, Myungsoo suggested. But my makeup will smudge, Woohyun shook his head.
When he was filming his drama he would sleep with his forehead on his arms. The way high schoolers did in school. That way his makeup would stay safe, even if his bangs were a tad too flat. For the greater good, Myungsoo would think. For the greater good was their shared motto in life. Nobody did anything because they wanted to. They thought it over, made sure the group stayed safe.
The company had called him in two weeks prior, in the back of the car. They made sure to say that if he had anything going on, he’d better cut it off. Now. Myungsoo sat in the back of the car with his hat pulled over his face, confused, and nodded. What he always did when faced with a situation. His manager later asked him if he even knew what the internet people were saying about him. Myungsoo didn’t want to know.
Out of the members Howon had been the most understanding. I know you need friends, he’d stressed the night they were in Yokohama, but you have to choose them carefully. Myungsoo had pushed his room service around in its plate then. Choose your friends carefully. He’d forgotten that he was not his again. Do a good job. His mother’s words rang in his head then, and when he looked up at Howon he nodded again.
That girl he knew. The company sent him a copy of the press release when they distributed it. It was not a lie. But Myungsoo wondered how much she knew about him. Or he about her. How much did he know about himself? Myungsoo wondered as Howon, somewhere high up there, mispronounced “special” over and over again.
“That Year’s Summer”
He had picked up the guitar some time in middle school. It was to impress a girl, of course. Sungyeol had snorted when he told him the story. It didn’t work out well in the end, but Myungsoo continued on with the guitar.
The company always put him with one whenever they were to perform acoustic versions of their slower songs. Acoustic versions. Myungsoo watched out for his fingering as the fans sang along. Sungjong was smiling beside him. He seemed a lot happier now, despite the insomnia last night. Sungjong had been battling it for ages. Not a lot of people knew.
Sitting on a chair made his leg feel better. In the time that had taken him to not completely forget the choreography for two songs, his knee had already been through three braces. This was the fourth. Again Sungyeol gave him the look. Myungsoo smiled, and the fans thought it was for them.
“Love U Like You”
His last girlfriend had liked teddy bears. The prop reminded him of her when they first showed him the way they were going to map out his solo stage. Dongwoo had laughed incessantly. Myungsoo on the other hand was less perturbed. His father once asked why he was always so cold on television (his father would record performances, his mother once told him secretly) when he wasn’t really like that. Myungsoo found it hard to explain the idea of a “concept”. The fans like it, he said in the end. It wasn’t too far from the truth either.
Somewhere in the distance a sign read “Myungsoo marree me”. It was misspelt in Korean. Myungsoo had never really thought of marrying until he was on the cusp of graduating high school. The last girlfriend that liked teddy bears was a good girl. Once he thought of planning a grand proposal that involved bears and two thousand pink balloons. Then they had their debut. Then they broke up. It was all too much of a pity. Myungsoo still thought of that farcical plan from time to time. A reminder of what was never to be.
He did pretty good for this stop. No voice breaking, no sudden urges to cry. As he buried his face into the fantastically huge teddy bear he suddenly thought of the last girlfriend. His last girlfriend. How did she look like? Then the fans screamed and it was over.
“60 Seconds (Orchestra version)-Sunggyu”
Sunggyu had spent hours in the planning meeting for his solo performance. He was intensely interested in everything, even the details nobody cared for and that the interns were in charge of. Myungsoo found his enthusiasm endearing. Sungyeol, however, did not, and so they stood at the side and watched together.
Myungsoo envied Sunggyu. It was one thing to be talented, another to be hardworking. Sunggyu was both. Sungyeol snorted as Sunggyu walked to stage center. Look at his hands, he laughed. Myungsoo looked. Sunggyu had his hands balled into fists. Every single time he was nervous. Every single time. Myungsoo had no idea how being a perfectionist was like.
Sunggyu had wanted to talk when they were in Bangkok. Howon graciously stepped out so it was just them both. Sunggyu had that look. It wasn’t much different from the one Sungyeol had, simultaneously wanting to be concerned but not being able to. Sunggyu had his duties to fulfill, Myungsoo thought. And he had none. You just need to ride this over, Sunggyu said while tapping his fingers on the tightly stretched duvet atop Howon’s bed, it’ll be over soon. His voice sounded strained. Too much singing, maybe. Myungsoo doubted it but believed Sunggyu anyway.
“Mother”
He missed his mother all the time. It was a funny thing to tell the members so he didn’t. Except for Dongwoo because he too felt the same. When Myungsoo had wanted to be a singer, his mother never said anything. That was enough support. His father too retreated into silence but it was not comforting the way his mother’s was.
He had replied his mother just before they went up on stage again. Her reply was quick: God bless you Myungsoo. She was devout. He was devout because of her. Sometimes when he couldn’t distinguish reality from what was otherwise he would call her. Mom? He called out tentatively that time they were in Hong Kong. Myungsoo? She said, tired, but there. Howon snored lightly in the bed beside and the air conditioning was cold and all was right in the world. Then. For now.
“Be Mine”
Woohyun had cried so badly when they first won, he hiccupped in his sleep. Dongwoo was no better. Myungsoo only did when he was in the safety of his blanket. Now Sungyeol stood next to him in the dark, and they whispered in the safety of it. My legs are going to fucking give out! Sungyeol was gnashing his teeth for sure. Myungsoo laughed. After that the music began, and he was shortly blinded by the stage lights.
The signs always seemed to be the same. His name repeated in too many colours over and over. Occasionally he’d be able to see the faces behind the LED lights. Sometimes he remembered them. Most of the time not. But they expected him to, so Myungsoo would try to. Pretend to, mostly. It made them happy and that was supposed to make him happy too.
This song had them practicing choreography for close to half a year. Non-stop, intensive, backbreaking choreography. His knee got busted then and never fully recovered. The managers made sure that nobody knew. When he went to the hospital he went from his father’s office in a taxi. It was a strangely effective method of letting him be alone. Woohyun teased him for not receiving gifts of knee braces and boxes of ginseng. Myungsoo then felt it a pity, most part on account of the ginseng.
When they’d won he was liberated. They were liberated. Moved out of the smallest house he’d ever lived in, into a spanking new apartment just blocks away from girl groups. Success was at the tips of their tongues. Sunggyu stayed up every night for a week, thumbing through his bankbook. Sungjong would look at him do it. Myungsoo would wake up and forget they’d moved and have an internal freak out. That was the true sign of success, he thought.
“Come Back Again”
Sungjong whispered a short fighting! into his ear before they took their positions. The fans were singing. Their Korean was stilted and weird but times like this awkwardness could be forgiven. Myungsoo watched as Sunggyu opened and closed his fists again, like he was preparing for a blood pressure examination. Maybe he really needed one. Woohyun and Dongwoo were playing around with their thumbs. Then Howon slid an arm over his shoulder. Good? Howon was always concise. Myungsoo nodded.
They would come back again and again and again. If there were stadiums to be filled, people to serenade, they would do it. Myungsoo would do it. It was in them now, etched in. He could dance five songs back to back and not make a single mistake. If his sixteen-year-old self could see him now, what would he say? Fucking dope. Myungsoo was a quiet, uncouth youth.
He still could not understand his life. But perhaps there was no need to. As he danced his way to the front of their formation he realised this. There was no need to completely comprehend the way he lived, the way he was immortalized and desecrated in the mind of someone he would never know. And that was the beauty of it. Myungsoo marveled at it.
Come back again. The fans screamed that. He heard that. They all took it to heart. Come back again. They would. They had to. Myungsoo’s fingers trembled as the speakers pumped out the last few beats. I’ll come back again. We’ll come back again. One, two, three-end. The misspelled sign flashed in front of his eyes again, Myungsoo marree me, and it was over. All over.
(for now)