All That's Fixed Was Once Broken (Oneshot)
Pairing: JongKey
Rating: PG
Genre: Teenage years, Hardships & Friendship
Word count: 6 099
Disclaimer: I don't own much :(
Summary: Kibum’s smile is like the sun: warm and bright and reliable. Jonghyun slowly learns to let him in, learns that it’s okay to cry on his shoulder, but also that it’s okay to smile.
A/N: For my friends.
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He was nervous. So, so nervous. Never before had he felt such bubbles in his stomach or jelly in his legs. It was even too terrifying to be thrilling.
The board of judges motioned for him to step forward - which he did with some difficulty. He vaguely remembered to puff out his chest and throw his shoulders back to make himself look taller but he couldn’t hold air in his lungs for too long because his nerves were pressing down on his chest, weighing down on his shoulders. He let out a heavy breath and started to sing.
It was one of the worst feelings to stand there in front of people he didn’t know that would decide of his future, of whether or not he would get to live his dream. His hands were shaking so he clenched one in front of his heart to make it stop as he sang as loud as he could. His eyes were closed; he couldn’t bear to look at the judges.
This was it. This was what he had been waiting for, practicing for and wishing for. The point of no return: he’d either be turned down or taken on as a trainee. He could only hope he’d do well.
He was still too nervous to feel relieved when his song ended and he shut his mouth and opened his eyes, blinking away the bright lights shining on him.
“Listen, you’ve got a good voice kid, but it’s just not enough.”
The point of no return. And all that was left for him was disappointment and shame. That feeling that you had failed in the worst possible way.
***
Jonghyun spent the rest of his days off from school in his room, surrounded by silence. Before - before - he would always surround himself with music, play guitar or piano or sing or listen to all kinds of music (he liked them all). He was always seen with earbuds or headphones and would only remove them for class half-willingly. Music made sense. It filled up a part of him like nothing else could. But that was before.
He cried his eyes dry after the audition - he had practiced for so long, poured heart and soul into his preparation because it had meant the world to him. Music meant the world to him and he wanted to make it an official part of his life. It was his life’s ambition to sing, to create something - a melody that was entirely his own (his own invention, his own voice, his own emotion).
But all that, all that was shot down right in front of him with a few simple words.
“- it’s just not enough.”
How could it not have been enough? He’d given it his everything.
Maybe music wasn’t meant for him after all.
***
It became a shushed topic among the Kim family. No one mentioned the failed audition out loud, but it was obvious that it was on everyone’s mind by the way they kept sending Jonghyun pitiful looks, by the way his sister was overly nice to him, by the way none of them talked much at all.
Jonghyun hated it.
It was enough to feel disappointed in himself; he didn’t need their pity and consoling looks to make himself feel worst. He didn’t need to be reminded of his failure, of His Mistakes.
(Maybe music wasn’t meant for him after all.)
Jonghyun didn’t know what to do with himself. He lacked focus (music had been his focus), slept for days, frowned for hours - his parents couldn’t wait to send him back to school, if only to distract him.
“There are other things in life, Jjongie,” his mother tells him with a worried smile.
He nods but doesn’t speak. He doesn’t think he can.
Jonghyun is fifteen. Fifteen and already broken.
***
The first day of school, his mother ushers him out of their front door, smoothing over his uniform so that it hangs properly on his shoulders (so that he looks presentable, not like the mess he is inside). He knows she means well and thanks her for it before leaving, guilt heavy in his chest. It’s been a month.
Math passes by in a blur of numbers, soon followed by home education and biology. Useless useless useless Jonghyun thinks, but still finds himself paying attention in class because it’s not like he has another option. (Not anymore, and he sighs.)
Jonghyun looks out of the cafeteria’s windows while he picks at his lunch, sitting in front of Jinki - a boy who’s a bit of a loner and too smart for his own good. Jonghyun doesn’t want to sit with his other friends; he doesn’t think he can handle them and their empty laughs.
Jinki asks: “How was your break?” He’s not stupid, he knows something’s wrong but doesn’t point it out. He knows better than to push Jonghyun.
“Okay,” Jonghyun says with a tense smile because he will never, never admit just how disappointed he is. (It was his dream, his secret, so it’s only fitting that it became his nightmare.) “And yours?”
Jinki shrugs. “Okay,” he says, “I visited some relatives.”
Jonghyun doesn’t know how it happens but there’s some sort of mutual understanding between them after that. Jinki goes on to talk about his classes, his teachers and Jonghyun hums and nods once in a while. Jinki is kind (or perceptive?) enough to let it go.
Jonghyun is riding the bus home, sitting by a window and eavesdropping on the conversations around him. It’s not intentional - but his iPod is missing, unable to drown out the world around him. Eventually he picks up on the conversation taking place on the other side of the aisle.
“What’s your name?”
“Kibum.”
A new voice; Jonghyun’s head turns at the sound.
The face he sees is equally new - to him, at least. Their eyes lock for a second and the boy smiles, for no reason, he just smiles and Jonghyun turns away. There’s something about him that Jonghyun can’t seem to put his finger on, but by the time Jonghyun is home, in his silent bedroom staring at math problems, he forgets to wonder about it.
***
The next day is much the same. It’s class class class (useless useless useless) then lunch with Jinki then more classes and then it’s the bus ride home. He’s still looking out the window, still eavesdropping when the not so new voice reaches his ears again. He catches himself looking at the other boy in the reflection of the glass.
He’s smiling; it’s bright and friendly and over-the-top and Jonghyun suddenly hates him for it, cannot stand it. He spends the rest of the bus ride staring at his shoes.
Class class class lunch class class class bus. Everyday it’s the same thing, and everyday Jonghyun stares at his shoes on the ride to and from school, silently wishing he had the guts to listen to his iPod if only to drown out that voice, that overly happy, bubbly voice that’s just so talkative and friendly and it makes Jonghyun angry. It irritates him to no end.
He cannot stand it to the point where one morning, he packs his iPod in his bag. His mother smiles at him encouragingly; Jonghyun doesn’t reciprocate.
Once on the bus, he places his headphones atop his ears but doesn’t turn the music on. He doesn’t dare.
Eventually, he grows tired of staring at his shoes so he decides to close his eyes. He’s sleepy, thinking about nothing when he feels a tap to his shoulder. When he opens his eyes, all he sees is that bright smile, only it’s much closer than before. Jonghyun looks at him with round eyes.
The boy - Kibum, Jonghyun recalls from earlier bus rides - points a finger to his ear, motioning for Jonghyun to take off his headphones. When Jonghyun hesitates, unmoving, Kibum reaches forward and slides them down his neck himself.
“Hi,” Kibum says, and now that he’s closer Jonghyun notices subtle things, like how his hair is in fact a very dark shade of brown and how his eyes are actually quite unique in shape, “you’re Jonghyun, right?”
Jonghyun can do nothing but continue to stare at him with round eyes, too perplexed (and a bit irritated) by what’s happening to utter words.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Kibum asks teasingly, lips curving into a half-smile. When Jonghyun doesn’t say anything to that either, he carries on: “I’m Kibum.”
“I know.”
Instead of asking why or how, Kibum’s smile simply widens a bit and Jonghyun thinks that he is a strange boy. They spend a few long seconds in silence, watching each other. When it becomes obvious that Kibum isn’t moving away, Jonghyun sighs and speaks again.
“You’re not sitting with your friends?” It’s a statement more than it is a question. Jonghyun’s patience is wearing thin and he can feel irritation creeping up in him. Jonghyun doesn’t like to be bothered.
“But you seem lonely,” Kibum says and when Jonghyun frowns, he frowns as well.
“Can I listen to your music with you?” Kibum asks, pointing towards Jonghyun’s headphones. He looks hopeful, bubbly, and Jonghyun almost feels guilty when he says-
“No.”
Kibum backs away a little but doesn’t leave. “Okay,” is all he says and somehow, Jonghyun is grateful for it. Kibum sits by him for the entire ride, looking out of the window with him and makes a comment or two every few minutes. Jonghyun doesn’t have the heart to pull up his headphones again.
When Jonghyun enters his house, he’s a bit confused by everything but Kibum’s smile just won’t leave his thoughts, so he sighs and drags his feet all the way to his bedroom. He’s still irritated, thinks just who the hell does this guy think he is and thinks that yeah, he’s definitely a strange boy.
But later on, much later on in life Jonghyun will remember this day and think of it as the luckiest day of his life.
Jonghyun is sitting by the window again, headphones over his ears when he feels a weight drop down on the seat next to him. He turns around and of course, it’s Kibum, smiling as usual. Jonghyun lowers his headphones himself this time.
“Hey Jjong,” the boy says and Jonghyun just doesn’t understand why he’s there again.
“Please don’t call me Jjong.”
“Okay, Hyun.”
Jonghyun bites back a groan.
To Jonghyun’s dismay, Kibum keeps showing up to sit beside him during every bus ride. Jonghyun still brings his headphones to school, but only out of habit (because it’s not like they’d manage to muffle Kibum). Jonghyun figures Kibum must be younger than him because he doesn’t see him around at school. Not that he’s looking for the boy at school - he just happens to notice this.
As the days go by, as Kibum keeps coming back to keep him company in the bus, Jonghyun grows less and less irritated, yet more and more perplexed. It surprises him every time the younger boy sits down beside him. It’s a mixture of why does he keep coming back and isn’t he bored of me? Jonghyun thinks now more than ever that Kibum is indeed a strange boy.
But before he knows it, he catches himself hoping that Kibum will show up. (He does, without fail.) Jonghyun begins to look forward to the daily bus rides, Kibum’s smile, Kibum’s voice.
Slowly, Jonghyun joins Kibum’s one-sided conversations. He quickly learns that the boy has a sharp tongue and a quick wit. It’s amusing, Kibum is amusing and Jonghyun sort of regrets being a dick to him that first day.
One morning, as the bus pulls up to Kibum’s stop, Jonghyun sees him wave to him and waves back, smiling slightly. When Kibum gets on the bus and trudges up to him, he is sporting an unusually wide smile and is sending Jonghyun strange glances.
“What is it?” Jonghyun asks. “Is there something on my face?”
“You smiled,” Kibum says simply, lips curling upwards.
He’d smiled. Well that was a start.
***
Kibum doesn’t ask questions. He never pauses to ask Jonghyun what happened or what’s wrong and Jonghyun is immensely grateful for it. Kibum doesn’t need to know.
(But he is sort of beginning to need Kibum.)
Still, just because he doesn’t ask questions doesn’t mean Kibum can’t be pushy. Like when he keeps asking Jonghyun to go shopping with him that weekend.
“Oh come on, Jjong, it’ll be fun,” he says and it’s not that Jonghyun doesn’t believe him, it’s that he doesn’t think he can handle it yet.
(It’s been three months.)
“Please please please please please?” Kibum has his hands clasped in front of him - it’s like he’s begging and Jonghyun fights back a smirk.
“I hate shopping.” Lies. He used to enjoy it.
“But my parents won’t let me go alone,” and Kibum throws in a pout - it’s adorable, but Jonghyun doesn’t say that.
“Fine,” he says instead.
Kibum’s face lights up at once and he throws himself onto Jonghyun, arms tight around his shoulders. Jonghyun, a bit surprised, can only pat him twice on the small of his back before the younger boy pulls away.
“Thank you,” he smiles and Jonghyun may just smile back.
In the end they don’t really shop, per se; there’s laughter and ice cream and never ending wandering and fooling around between racks of clothing. They go to a pet shop to ogle the kittens because Kibum wants to, they go to the kids' section to reminisce on Power Ranger t-shirts because nobody said they couldn’t and they take silly pictures in photo booths because Jonghyun wants to remember this. This day, Kibum, his smile, being young and stupid and wasting money on overpriced pictures. He feels like he’s missed out on being a teenager all these years, instead busying himself with training and practicing for an audition. For nothing.
(The thought gets pushed out of Jonghyun’s head when Kibum grabs his arm to drag him to the next store.)
When he gets home his mother asks him if he had fun, she’s beaming. Jonghyun doesn’t hesitate before answering:
“Yeah, I did.”
When he gets to his bedroom, he reaches for the small roll of photographs in his jeans’ pockets and places it on his desk, atop a stack of CDs.
***
One day, Kibum shows up at Jonghyun’s and Jinki’s table during the lunch hour. No questions are asked, he just shows up and Jonghyun introduces him to Jinki.
Kibum is easy to talk to - Jinki quickly acquaints himself with him and his not-so-conventional manners. The younger boy looks a bit bored when Jinki starts talking about school so the conversation somehow turns to music. Kibum talks about k-pop with enthusiasm and Jinki responds with-
“You know, Jonghyun is a really good singer. He plays piano, too.”
Kibum turns to look at Jonghyun, but Jonghyun eyes are already downcast, staring into his lap. And then, just like that, Kibum turns the topic around and begins talking about dramas. Jonghyun doesn’t know what happened, but he doesn’t ask. Maybe Kibum is just smart like that.
It’s a Friday night and when Kibum asks him if he wants to go to his place for the evening, Jonghyun doesn’t even try to say “no”. His shy “okay” is met with a grin from Kibum - the one where his eyes almost disappear - and before he knows it, he’s following Kibum off the bus.
Kibum lives in an apartment with his mother and father - it’s a bit small, but it’s cosy and makes Jonghyun feel at ease. His room is like everything Jonghyun expected; bright and colourful without being cramped or overbearing.
One thing he did not expect was the little ball of fur that came running to his feet. Jonghyun picks it up, shifting the moving puppy around in his hands when it tries to lick him.
“I thought you liked cats,” Jonghyun says, amused.
Kibum simply shrugs and Jonghyun thinks that he might just understand him a little better now. Kibum isn’t always what he seems like. (But he’s still a bit strange, Jonghyun thinks with a private smile.)
Dinner with Kibum’s parents is a little awkward - his mother is kind yet his father is a bit cold - but soon it’s over and he’s standing by the sink, washing the dishes with Kibum. Jonghyun teases him about his tiny furry dog and Kibum reciprocates by flinging soapy water onto his shirt. Soon, both their shirts are drenched and Kibum is dragging him to his room to get some dry clothes.
The following Friday, Kibum invites himself over to Jonghyun’s because somehow, he knows Jonghyun would never ask. Kibum obviously notices the stereo, the many CDs, the cheap guitar and the electric bass littering Jonghyun’s room but doesn’t say anything about it. Jonghyun considers telling him everything but quickly thinks better of it - why would Kibum want to know? What’s the use? It’s all in the past.
(It’s been four months.)
It becomes their routine - every Friday night they go to either’s place to watch movies and, occasionally, study together. One evening, Kibum refers to Jonghyun as his best friend and it strikes him for the first time that indeed, they are best friends. (It’s like they’ve always been.)
***
One morning, Kibum hops onto the seat next to Jonghyun and snatches his headphones. Jonghyun’s eyes go wide, watching him as he places them next to his ears only to hear... nothing. Kibum frowns, looks at Jonghyun in confusion, trying to understand but Jonghyun just shrugs and turns away to face the window. It’s a quiet ride to school and Kibum keeps frowning.
That evening, they head over to Kibum’s and, again, it’s a quiet ride which is ridiculous because Kibum isn’t quiet and neither is Jonghyun - around Kibum, anyway. When they settle onto Kibum’s bed, Jonghyun looks defeated and Kibum chews on his lower lip.
Kibum doesn’t ask questions - he knows things take time - so he lets Jonghyun speak.
“It’s a long story,” Jonghyun says after a minute of silence.
(It’s been five months. Maybe it’s time to let go.)
“I had this dream,” Jonghyun speaks, and his lips twitch into a small, sad smile that disappears moments later.
“We all do,” Kibum tells him. Jonghyun wonders if he already knows what Jonghyun’s about to say. Kibum is smart like that.
“I wanted to sing.” Jonghyun is straight-forward, to-the-point. (Like Kibum.) “Music was...” he pauses because his following words still hurt him, “it was everything to me.”
Kibum nods thoughtfully and scoots over to Jonghyun. He places a hand on his thigh and waits for the rest.
“I don’t know where I went wrong, but I auditioned for this big company and got rejected.” This is the first time Jonghyun says it aloud. It breaks him and he feels tears gathering beneath his eyelids, at the corner of his eyes. “They said it wasn’t enough.”
Jonghyun can feel Kibum’s hand squeeze his thigh when the first tear rolls down his cheek. It makes him feel a little better. (Kibum makes him feel a little better.)
“I don’t want to listen to music anymore.”
Jonghyun is fifteen and a half and it’s the end of the world as he knows it.
Jonghyun raises his hands to cover his face but Kibum grips his wrists and pulls him nearer to embrace him. Kibum’s shoulder is warm and Jonghyun clings to him as he cries silently.
“Are you sure you don’t want to?” Kibum asks, his first question.
Jonghyun nods into his neck but doesn’t do anything when Kibum begins humming a slow melody to himself, only interrupted by Jonghyun’s sniffling. By the time the song ends, Jonghyun’s eyes are closed.
“You’re not a failure, Jjongie,” Key’s voice is soft, soothing. “You just weren’t what they were looking for, but you might be what somebody else is looking for.”
Emotions well up in Jonghyun’s throat - guilt, deception, fear, the usual - but also, he feels affection towards Kibum, Kibum who is always so honest and straightforward and considerate and hopeful. He wants to say thank you, thank you for doing this, thank you for being here, for being you, but he can’t so instead he hugs him tight.
(Those who dare to dream big risk the worst nightmares.)
And now, with Kibum by his side, Jonghyun catches himself thinking that maybe the pain would dull with time, after all.
***
“Can I show you something?”
Jonghyun smiles and nods, watching with curiosity as Kibum climbs off his bed and heads to his computer, scrolling through his music library before clicking on a song.
A rhythm-heavy R&B song begins to play and Jonghyun just sits there in silence and in awe. It’s been so long since he’s listened to music. (Too long.)
Kibum counts the beats with his foot and then his body moves and he’s dancing, he’s dancing like he feels the song, the beat and Jonghyun can’t help but smile. He makes it look so easy.
Mid-song, Kibum suddenly stops when he catches Jonghyun’s grin.
“Yah! What’s so funny?” he demands, almost offended.
Jonghyun meets his dark eyes and holds his gaze, smile still in place.
“You’re good.”
All anger dissipates from Kibum’s features as he smiles back.
“Show me another.”
The smile Kibum gives him at that is blinding.
A week later, they’re sitting on Jonghyun’s bed when Kibum says:
“Play me something.”
Jonghyun looks at him with round eyes but Kibum only gestures towards his dusty guitar. Jonghyun shakes his head no (he doesn’t think he can) but Kibum pushes him off the bed. Jonghyun picks up his guitar reluctantly, like he doesn’t remember how to hold it, how it feels like in his hands but once he sets it down onto his lap, everything falls into place.
He strums over the strings once, uncertain, as the sound brings back memories (good and bad). He feels Kibum’s hand on his shoulder and then it comes back to him like a flood - all those songs and lyrics and melodies he’d created only to abandon. He feels tears welling up in his eyes but strums over the strings again. He feels Kibum settle behind him on the bed and skinny arms circle his stomach, a chest pressing into his back and a chin digging into his shoulder and suddenly he smiles, fights back the tears and clears his throat. He sings and it feels like home.
(Right there, in that moment, he is home.)
He sings the first song he’s ever written; the lyrics are silly, the melody is simple and the chords are repetitive but it’s a song that’s close to Jonghyun’s heart. It makes sense now that he’s singing it to Kibum.
The song ends - it’s too short, missing a bridge and could use another verse but Jonghyun sings it as is.
He can feel Kibum’s breath on his neck when the younger says: “You’re good.”
Jonghyun doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t thank him nor does he smile. He simply nods in acknowledgement.
“Sing me another.”
They spend hours on top of Jonghyun’s duvet. He sings until he’s exhausted his repertoire and then he sings some more, keeps playing because Kibum tells him to. (He’s missed this but it hurts, too. The memories aren’t all good.)
When Jonghyun’s voice finally grows tired and his fingers become sore, Kibum speaks up.
“You have a beautiful voice.”
Jonghyun smiles feebly; not beautiful enough he wants to say.
(It’s been seven months. It’s still not enough.)
***
The phone rings but Jonghyun doesn’t pay attention to it; he’s too busy trying to decipher his English textbook, pronouncing words aloud in an attempt to remember how all those actors say them in those movies Kibum makes him watch. It takes a knock on his bedroom door to shake him out of it.
His mother opens it and she’s holding out the telephone towards him as Jonghyun looks at her inquisitively.
“It’s Kibum,” she says, and Jonghyun is up on his feet reaching out for the phone a second later.
“Hey?” he speaks into the receiver as his mother shakes her head, but the smile on her lips betrays her.
“Hey, sorry I wasn’t in the bus tonight,” Kibum says on the other end.
“Yeah, where were you?”
“My math teacher wanted to speak to me,” the younger boy says and Jonghyun doesn’t worry because he can hear a smile in Kibum’s tone.
“Why?”
“I fell asleep during class.”
Jonghyun laughs and Kibum also erupts into a fit of chuckles.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Kibum protests between bouts of laughter.
“Of course not,” Jonghyun reiterates, smiling.
Kibum calls often after that - Jonghyun doesn’t mind, it distracts him from his English, math and biology homework (still useless useless useless). One night, Jonghyun is laying in bed with lyrics surrounding him and Kibum asks him-
“What are you doing?”
“Writing a song.”
Kibum goes quiet for a while, his dog Coco barks somewhere in the background.
“What’s it about?” The question is asked softly, carefully.
“Insomnia and two-digit IQs,” Jonghyun speaks with confidence. He can almost hear Kibum frown.
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Don’t need to. I’ve got you for that.”
Kibum gives a playful sigh.
“I’m just kidding,” Jonghyun admits, amused by Kibum’s antics, “it’s about lost love.”
“Hmm,” Kibum hums in the back of his throat, “I always knew you were a romantic.”
“Still I have romantic in my heaaart!” Jonghyun improvises a melody, in English.
“Your English is horrible.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.” And Kibum hangs up.
Jonghyun spends about two seconds listening to the dial tone, blinking to himself before calling Kibum back.
When Kibum picks up, he’s laughing.
***
The holidays roll around and Kibum leaves with his family for six days. For Jonghyun, it’s six days spent alone in his room, waiting. He’s bored, and whenever he’s bored he gets to thinking (too much) about the past, about the future. About life and about his life.
(He misses Kibum.)
On the sixth day, Jonghyun is on his bed, guitar in his lap when he hears the phone ring. He runs down the hallway to pick it up, out of breath when he speaks:
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m back,” Kibum’s voice says on the other end, “can I come over?”
“Yeah.” And Jonghyun smiles.
When Jonghyun opens the door for Kibum before the younger one could even reach the doorbell, he engulfs the taller boy in a tight hug. Jonghyun’s mother simply rolls her eyes at them.
“I brought you pocky sticks!” Kibum says when Jonghyun releases him.
“Did you have a nice trip, Kibum?” his mother asks.
“Yes, Mrs. Kim.”
She smiles at the two boys in front of her and refrains from asking more questions because she knows they have better things to be doing - like climbing the stairs to Jonghyun’s bedroom and settling down on his bed.
They munch on the sweets and talk for what seems like forever. There may or may not be some wrestling involved when Kibum labels Jonghyun’s taste in ballads as cheesy. It’s already late when the conversation lulls and Jonghyun picks up his guitar, gently strumming along to old songs. Kibum is sleepy from travelling and Jonghyun’s constant humming soothes him; before he knows it, he’s dozing off.
Jonghyun doesn’t wake him up. Instead, he sets his guitar down and sneaks out of the room to ask his mother to call Kibum’s parents to let them know he’s sleeping over. When she nods, he goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and puts the pocky wrappings in the trash (save for one that he keeps in his desk drawer) before slipping onto his mattress beside Kibum. He falls into a dreamless, soundless sleep.
***
It’s been nine and a half months when Kibum brings it up again.
“You know, I was being serious when I told you that you might be what somebody else is looking for.”
Jonghyun frowns but doesn’t look up to meet Kibum’s gaze - he pretends to be busy with the notebook laying open in front of him.
(It’s been nine and a half months and Jonghyun still never mentions it but, somehow, only Kibum is allowed to. It irks Jonghyun, though, because he doesn’t like to think about it.)
“SM is holding auditions in three months.” If Jonghyun had looked up, he would see Kibum biting his lower lip, hoping he hadn’t gone too far too fast. Yet, Jonghyun remains carefully collected (but Kibum knows better).
“So?”
“You should try out. I will.”
Jonghyun sets down his pencil but keeps his eyes trained on his notebook. He releases a sigh and Kibum doesn’t need him to open his mouth to know what his answer will be.
“I don’t know, Kibum.”
(He doesn’t think he can go through it again.)
“At least try,” Kibum pleads and Jonghyun suddenly wonders why he bothers so much. Why he cares.
Kibum places a hand on his notebook, finally drawing Jonghyun’s attention to him.
“You had big dreams, no? You told me yourself. And I know you still have them.”
When Jonghyun looks up, all he sees are deep brown eyes staring into his. He sighs again and rests his head in his hands.
“I don’t know, Kibum,” he repeats, suddenly tired.
“You don’t need to know, Jjong, you just need to try.” Kibum’s lips curve into a small smile. “I can show you some dance moves, if you want.”
Kibum’s eyes turn apprehensive as he gnaws at his lip again - he knows he’s asking for a lot. He’s asking for Jonghyun to trust him; that’s not an easy thing for Jonghyun.
(Jonghyun trusts him.)
***
They’re in a small dance studio above their school’s gym - they stay after hours and Kibum guides Jonghyun through the footsteps of a made up choreography. Kibum isn’t always patient with him, but Jonghyun finds a good way to stop his nagging when he accidentally spills water onto his shirt.
“Yah!”
Kibum is fast to grab his bottle and run after Jonghyun, threatening to spray him - he manages to douse Jonghyun’s face but the elder boy grabs onto his arm and spins him around only to send cold water dripping down his back. Kibum squirms and lets out a squeal as Jonghyun simply laughs. Then it’s Jonghyun’s turn to yell “Yah!” as Kibum rubs himself and his drenched shirt onto Jonghyun’s side.
They’re still dripping as they walk home, limbs shivering and teeth chattering, but their shared laughter and smiles distract Jonghyun from the cold.
(It’s okay, Jonghyun finds himself thinking. It’s okay because no matter what happens, he’ll always have this, these memories.)
***
“Kibum?”
They are both tired and sweaty, leaning onto the mirror in the dance studio above the gym. The date of the audition is slowly creeping up on them and Kibum looks a little weary - it bothers Jonghyun, because he’s usually all warm smiles and bright hellos. But then it occurs to Jonghyun that Kibum is entitled to feel nervous, too, that he’s human, that he can’t be in a good mood one hundred and ten percent of the time.
Jonghyun can’t blame him, not when he looks back at the ups and downs of the past eleven months of his own life. To be honest, it baffles him that Kibum stuck to him all this time - that he’s still here. Jonghyun saves the questions for later.
“You’ll do great,” he tells him when Kibum looks up from where he’s sitting with his back to the mirror, hunched.
“Thanks, Jjong. You too.”
Jonghyun hums and Kibum pulls himself back up to carry on with their practice, dragging Jonghyun along with him.
***
It’s been twelve and a half months. Jonghyun is sixteen and still thinks he’s not ready to try again. Only he doesn’t have much of a choice because Kibum is behind him, pushing him along the way.
It’s the last day before the audition and they’re sprawled on top of Kibum’s bed, not doing much. Neither of them really want to think about what if's so Jonghyun lets his mind wander to other unanswered questions. He’s known Kibum for a year, give or take.
“Why?” he asks, staring at Kibum’s ceiling.
“Why what?” He feels Kibum roll onto his side beside him.
“Why did you sit beside me in the bus?” Why are you (still) doing this is the thinly veiled question.
“I told you already,” Kibum speaks with a shrug. “You seemed lonely.”
Jonghyun frowns, not entirely satisfied.
“But why?” he presses. “Why did you stick around?” I didn’t deserve it is what he means.
He turns his head to the side to get a look at Kibum - whose eyes have gone wide, like he wasn’t expecting Jonghyun to say that.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
It was Jonghyun’s turn to shrug: something kept him from speaking up but he thinks Kibum understood just fine. He has a knack for that.
“Oh Jjong,” Kibum sighs, reaching out for Jonghyun’s hand. “You’re my best friend. It would be selfish of me to expect you to be perfect.”
Jonghyun suddenly wonders if Kibum really is younger than him because his sixteen year old mind doesn’t fully understand what Kibum is trying to say (he’s a bit strange, sometimes). Jonghyun is frowning, deep in thought, attempting to make sense of those elusive words when Kibum squeezes his hand. He looks up and Kibum is smiling at him.
(Growing up is never easy, but it’s a bit easier when you don’t have to do it alone.)
***
Jonghyun’s audition passes by in a blur of colours, sounds, movements and memories. When he sings, he is brought back to evenings spent in his or Kibum’s room, singing along to his favourite songs. When he dances, he remembers water fights in a stuffy studio and breaks taken against a grand mirror.
When he’s done and has answered the board’s few questions, he stands alone on the small stage and waits, trying to keep his nerves steady. He can’t really compare it to his first audition because he doesn’t remember much of it. He tries not to hope for anything, to keep his expectations in check but a part of himself keeps wishing in spite of everything.
“You sing with emotion,” the main recruiting agent tells him when he’s done talking to the others. “I like that. Actually, I like that a lot.”
Jonghyun gives an uncertain smile. He doesn’t let himself hope, not yet.
“You can expect a call in the next few days,” the company’s representative nods his head as a gesture of approval, “congratulations.”
Jonghyun bows to everyone in the room but doesn’t fully register what has happened yet. He can feel tears brimming the corners of his eyes but they don’t spill over, not yet.
He doesn’t realize it when his legs take him back to the waiting room where he looks for Kibum, but must have missed him because the boy is nowhere to be found. Jonghyun waits by the door, mind cautiously blank because he can’t celebrate just yet (but his chest definitely feels much lighter).
He waits while this strange feeling of bubbles in his stomach spreads. That’s when he realizes that the nerves are still there because the only thing he wants more than anything at this point is for Kibum to make it, too. Jonghyun doesn’t think he can do this alone. (And he doesn’t want to, not when he could do it with Kibum.)
When Kibum finally opens the door, he has the biggest smile on and walks straight towards Jonghyun.
Jonghyun smiles back.
“I got picked,” Jonghyun tells him solemnly, still not entirely believing the words that escape his mouth.
“Me too,” Kibum answers and his smile is as bright as ever.
Thank you Jonghyun wants to say, thank you for everything, but he doesn’t think he can, not with the way Kibum is smiling in front of him and looking like, well, like the world has changed for them.
Before Kibum can do anything, Jonghyun leans in and kisses him on the lips. It was meant as a simple thank you but it becomes more than that when he feels Kibum smiling into the kiss.
Jonghyun pulls back, a bit confused but Kibum just reaches out to hold his hand, still smiling.
(Kibum is a strange boy, but Jonghyun would be a fool not to love him so.)
__________________
A/N: I always have trouble with endings T.T so, yeah, picture? :D
(Credits to BananaJuicy for the pic ^^)
Rating: PG
Genre: Teenage years, Hardships & Friendship
Word count: 6 099
Disclaimer: I don't own much :(
Summary: Kibum’s smile is like the sun: warm and bright and reliable. Jonghyun slowly learns to let him in, learns that it’s okay to cry on his shoulder, but also that it’s okay to smile.
A/N: For my friends.
__________________
He was nervous. So, so nervous. Never before had he felt such bubbles in his stomach or jelly in his legs. It was even too terrifying to be thrilling.
The board of judges motioned for him to step forward - which he did with some difficulty. He vaguely remembered to puff out his chest and throw his shoulders back to make himself look taller but he couldn’t hold air in his lungs for too long because his nerves were pressing down on his chest, weighing down on his shoulders. He let out a heavy breath and started to sing.
It was one of the worst feelings to stand there in front of people he didn’t know that would decide of his future, of whether or not he would get to live his dream. His hands were shaking so he clenched one in front of his heart to make it stop as he sang as loud as he could. His eyes were closed; he couldn’t bear to look at the judges.
This was it. This was what he had been waiting for, practicing for and wishing for. The point of no return: he’d either be turned down or taken on as a trainee. He could only hope he’d do well.
He was still too nervous to feel relieved when his song ended and he shut his mouth and opened his eyes, blinking away the bright lights shining on him.
“Listen, you’ve got a good voice kid, but it’s just not enough.”
The point of no return. And all that was left for him was disappointment and shame. That feeling that you had failed in the worst possible way.
***
Jonghyun spent the rest of his days off from school in his room, surrounded by silence. Before - before - he would always surround himself with music, play guitar or piano or sing or listen to all kinds of music (he liked them all). He was always seen with earbuds or headphones and would only remove them for class half-willingly. Music made sense. It filled up a part of him like nothing else could. But that was before.
He cried his eyes dry after the audition - he had practiced for so long, poured heart and soul into his preparation because it had meant the world to him. Music meant the world to him and he wanted to make it an official part of his life. It was his life’s ambition to sing, to create something - a melody that was entirely his own (his own invention, his own voice, his own emotion).
But all that, all that was shot down right in front of him with a few simple words.
“- it’s just not enough.”
How could it not have been enough? He’d given it his everything.
Maybe music wasn’t meant for him after all.
***
It became a shushed topic among the Kim family. No one mentioned the failed audition out loud, but it was obvious that it was on everyone’s mind by the way they kept sending Jonghyun pitiful looks, by the way his sister was overly nice to him, by the way none of them talked much at all.
Jonghyun hated it.
It was enough to feel disappointed in himself; he didn’t need their pity and consoling looks to make himself feel worst. He didn’t need to be reminded of his failure, of His Mistakes.
(Maybe music wasn’t meant for him after all.)
Jonghyun didn’t know what to do with himself. He lacked focus (music had been his focus), slept for days, frowned for hours - his parents couldn’t wait to send him back to school, if only to distract him.
“There are other things in life, Jjongie,” his mother tells him with a worried smile.
He nods but doesn’t speak. He doesn’t think he can.
Jonghyun is fifteen. Fifteen and already broken.
***
The first day of school, his mother ushers him out of their front door, smoothing over his uniform so that it hangs properly on his shoulders (so that he looks presentable, not like the mess he is inside). He knows she means well and thanks her for it before leaving, guilt heavy in his chest. It’s been a month.
Math passes by in a blur of numbers, soon followed by home education and biology. Useless useless useless Jonghyun thinks, but still finds himself paying attention in class because it’s not like he has another option. (Not anymore, and he sighs.)
Jonghyun looks out of the cafeteria’s windows while he picks at his lunch, sitting in front of Jinki - a boy who’s a bit of a loner and too smart for his own good. Jonghyun doesn’t want to sit with his other friends; he doesn’t think he can handle them and their empty laughs.
Jinki asks: “How was your break?” He’s not stupid, he knows something’s wrong but doesn’t point it out. He knows better than to push Jonghyun.
“Okay,” Jonghyun says with a tense smile because he will never, never admit just how disappointed he is. (It was his dream, his secret, so it’s only fitting that it became his nightmare.) “And yours?”
Jinki shrugs. “Okay,” he says, “I visited some relatives.”
Jonghyun doesn’t know how it happens but there’s some sort of mutual understanding between them after that. Jinki goes on to talk about his classes, his teachers and Jonghyun hums and nods once in a while. Jinki is kind (or perceptive?) enough to let it go.
Jonghyun is riding the bus home, sitting by a window and eavesdropping on the conversations around him. It’s not intentional - but his iPod is missing, unable to drown out the world around him. Eventually he picks up on the conversation taking place on the other side of the aisle.
“What’s your name?”
“Kibum.”
A new voice; Jonghyun’s head turns at the sound.
The face he sees is equally new - to him, at least. Their eyes lock for a second and the boy smiles, for no reason, he just smiles and Jonghyun turns away. There’s something about him that Jonghyun can’t seem to put his finger on, but by the time Jonghyun is home, in his silent bedroom staring at math problems, he forgets to wonder about it.
***
The next day is much the same. It’s class class class (useless useless useless) then lunch with Jinki then more classes and then it’s the bus ride home. He’s still looking out the window, still eavesdropping when the not so new voice reaches his ears again. He catches himself looking at the other boy in the reflection of the glass.
He’s smiling; it’s bright and friendly and over-the-top and Jonghyun suddenly hates him for it, cannot stand it. He spends the rest of the bus ride staring at his shoes.
Class class class lunch class class class bus. Everyday it’s the same thing, and everyday Jonghyun stares at his shoes on the ride to and from school, silently wishing he had the guts to listen to his iPod if only to drown out that voice, that overly happy, bubbly voice that’s just so talkative and friendly and it makes Jonghyun angry. It irritates him to no end.
He cannot stand it to the point where one morning, he packs his iPod in his bag. His mother smiles at him encouragingly; Jonghyun doesn’t reciprocate.
Once on the bus, he places his headphones atop his ears but doesn’t turn the music on. He doesn’t dare.
Eventually, he grows tired of staring at his shoes so he decides to close his eyes. He’s sleepy, thinking about nothing when he feels a tap to his shoulder. When he opens his eyes, all he sees is that bright smile, only it’s much closer than before. Jonghyun looks at him with round eyes.
The boy - Kibum, Jonghyun recalls from earlier bus rides - points a finger to his ear, motioning for Jonghyun to take off his headphones. When Jonghyun hesitates, unmoving, Kibum reaches forward and slides them down his neck himself.
“Hi,” Kibum says, and now that he’s closer Jonghyun notices subtle things, like how his hair is in fact a very dark shade of brown and how his eyes are actually quite unique in shape, “you’re Jonghyun, right?”
Jonghyun can do nothing but continue to stare at him with round eyes, too perplexed (and a bit irritated) by what’s happening to utter words.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Kibum asks teasingly, lips curving into a half-smile. When Jonghyun doesn’t say anything to that either, he carries on: “I’m Kibum.”
“I know.”
Instead of asking why or how, Kibum’s smile simply widens a bit and Jonghyun thinks that he is a strange boy. They spend a few long seconds in silence, watching each other. When it becomes obvious that Kibum isn’t moving away, Jonghyun sighs and speaks again.
“You’re not sitting with your friends?” It’s a statement more than it is a question. Jonghyun’s patience is wearing thin and he can feel irritation creeping up in him. Jonghyun doesn’t like to be bothered.
“But you seem lonely,” Kibum says and when Jonghyun frowns, he frowns as well.
“Can I listen to your music with you?” Kibum asks, pointing towards Jonghyun’s headphones. He looks hopeful, bubbly, and Jonghyun almost feels guilty when he says-
“No.”
Kibum backs away a little but doesn’t leave. “Okay,” is all he says and somehow, Jonghyun is grateful for it. Kibum sits by him for the entire ride, looking out of the window with him and makes a comment or two every few minutes. Jonghyun doesn’t have the heart to pull up his headphones again.
When Jonghyun enters his house, he’s a bit confused by everything but Kibum’s smile just won’t leave his thoughts, so he sighs and drags his feet all the way to his bedroom. He’s still irritated, thinks just who the hell does this guy think he is and thinks that yeah, he’s definitely a strange boy.
But later on, much later on in life Jonghyun will remember this day and think of it as the luckiest day of his life.
Jonghyun is sitting by the window again, headphones over his ears when he feels a weight drop down on the seat next to him. He turns around and of course, it’s Kibum, smiling as usual. Jonghyun lowers his headphones himself this time.
“Hey Jjong,” the boy says and Jonghyun just doesn’t understand why he’s there again.
“Please don’t call me Jjong.”
“Okay, Hyun.”
Jonghyun bites back a groan.
To Jonghyun’s dismay, Kibum keeps showing up to sit beside him during every bus ride. Jonghyun still brings his headphones to school, but only out of habit (because it’s not like they’d manage to muffle Kibum). Jonghyun figures Kibum must be younger than him because he doesn’t see him around at school. Not that he’s looking for the boy at school - he just happens to notice this.
As the days go by, as Kibum keeps coming back to keep him company in the bus, Jonghyun grows less and less irritated, yet more and more perplexed. It surprises him every time the younger boy sits down beside him. It’s a mixture of why does he keep coming back and isn’t he bored of me? Jonghyun thinks now more than ever that Kibum is indeed a strange boy.
But before he knows it, he catches himself hoping that Kibum will show up. (He does, without fail.) Jonghyun begins to look forward to the daily bus rides, Kibum’s smile, Kibum’s voice.
Slowly, Jonghyun joins Kibum’s one-sided conversations. He quickly learns that the boy has a sharp tongue and a quick wit. It’s amusing, Kibum is amusing and Jonghyun sort of regrets being a dick to him that first day.
One morning, as the bus pulls up to Kibum’s stop, Jonghyun sees him wave to him and waves back, smiling slightly. When Kibum gets on the bus and trudges up to him, he is sporting an unusually wide smile and is sending Jonghyun strange glances.
“What is it?” Jonghyun asks. “Is there something on my face?”
“You smiled,” Kibum says simply, lips curling upwards.
He’d smiled. Well that was a start.
***
Kibum doesn’t ask questions. He never pauses to ask Jonghyun what happened or what’s wrong and Jonghyun is immensely grateful for it. Kibum doesn’t need to know.
(But he is sort of beginning to need Kibum.)
Still, just because he doesn’t ask questions doesn’t mean Kibum can’t be pushy. Like when he keeps asking Jonghyun to go shopping with him that weekend.
“Oh come on, Jjong, it’ll be fun,” he says and it’s not that Jonghyun doesn’t believe him, it’s that he doesn’t think he can handle it yet.
(It’s been three months.)
“Please please please please please?” Kibum has his hands clasped in front of him - it’s like he’s begging and Jonghyun fights back a smirk.
“I hate shopping.” Lies. He used to enjoy it.
“But my parents won’t let me go alone,” and Kibum throws in a pout - it’s adorable, but Jonghyun doesn’t say that.
“Fine,” he says instead.
Kibum’s face lights up at once and he throws himself onto Jonghyun, arms tight around his shoulders. Jonghyun, a bit surprised, can only pat him twice on the small of his back before the younger boy pulls away.
“Thank you,” he smiles and Jonghyun may just smile back.
In the end they don’t really shop, per se; there’s laughter and ice cream and never ending wandering and fooling around between racks of clothing. They go to a pet shop to ogle the kittens because Kibum wants to, they go to the kids' section to reminisce on Power Ranger t-shirts because nobody said they couldn’t and they take silly pictures in photo booths because Jonghyun wants to remember this. This day, Kibum, his smile, being young and stupid and wasting money on overpriced pictures. He feels like he’s missed out on being a teenager all these years, instead busying himself with training and practicing for an audition. For nothing.
(The thought gets pushed out of Jonghyun’s head when Kibum grabs his arm to drag him to the next store.)
When he gets home his mother asks him if he had fun, she’s beaming. Jonghyun doesn’t hesitate before answering:
“Yeah, I did.”
When he gets to his bedroom, he reaches for the small roll of photographs in his jeans’ pockets and places it on his desk, atop a stack of CDs.
***
One day, Kibum shows up at Jonghyun’s and Jinki’s table during the lunch hour. No questions are asked, he just shows up and Jonghyun introduces him to Jinki.
Kibum is easy to talk to - Jinki quickly acquaints himself with him and his not-so-conventional manners. The younger boy looks a bit bored when Jinki starts talking about school so the conversation somehow turns to music. Kibum talks about k-pop with enthusiasm and Jinki responds with-
“You know, Jonghyun is a really good singer. He plays piano, too.”
Kibum turns to look at Jonghyun, but Jonghyun eyes are already downcast, staring into his lap. And then, just like that, Kibum turns the topic around and begins talking about dramas. Jonghyun doesn’t know what happened, but he doesn’t ask. Maybe Kibum is just smart like that.
It’s a Friday night and when Kibum asks him if he wants to go to his place for the evening, Jonghyun doesn’t even try to say “no”. His shy “okay” is met with a grin from Kibum - the one where his eyes almost disappear - and before he knows it, he’s following Kibum off the bus.
Kibum lives in an apartment with his mother and father - it’s a bit small, but it’s cosy and makes Jonghyun feel at ease. His room is like everything Jonghyun expected; bright and colourful without being cramped or overbearing.
One thing he did not expect was the little ball of fur that came running to his feet. Jonghyun picks it up, shifting the moving puppy around in his hands when it tries to lick him.
“I thought you liked cats,” Jonghyun says, amused.
Kibum simply shrugs and Jonghyun thinks that he might just understand him a little better now. Kibum isn’t always what he seems like. (But he’s still a bit strange, Jonghyun thinks with a private smile.)
Dinner with Kibum’s parents is a little awkward - his mother is kind yet his father is a bit cold - but soon it’s over and he’s standing by the sink, washing the dishes with Kibum. Jonghyun teases him about his tiny furry dog and Kibum reciprocates by flinging soapy water onto his shirt. Soon, both their shirts are drenched and Kibum is dragging him to his room to get some dry clothes.
The following Friday, Kibum invites himself over to Jonghyun’s because somehow, he knows Jonghyun would never ask. Kibum obviously notices the stereo, the many CDs, the cheap guitar and the electric bass littering Jonghyun’s room but doesn’t say anything about it. Jonghyun considers telling him everything but quickly thinks better of it - why would Kibum want to know? What’s the use? It’s all in the past.
(It’s been four months.)
It becomes their routine - every Friday night they go to either’s place to watch movies and, occasionally, study together. One evening, Kibum refers to Jonghyun as his best friend and it strikes him for the first time that indeed, they are best friends. (It’s like they’ve always been.)
***
One morning, Kibum hops onto the seat next to Jonghyun and snatches his headphones. Jonghyun’s eyes go wide, watching him as he places them next to his ears only to hear... nothing. Kibum frowns, looks at Jonghyun in confusion, trying to understand but Jonghyun just shrugs and turns away to face the window. It’s a quiet ride to school and Kibum keeps frowning.
That evening, they head over to Kibum’s and, again, it’s a quiet ride which is ridiculous because Kibum isn’t quiet and neither is Jonghyun - around Kibum, anyway. When they settle onto Kibum’s bed, Jonghyun looks defeated and Kibum chews on his lower lip.
Kibum doesn’t ask questions - he knows things take time - so he lets Jonghyun speak.
“It’s a long story,” Jonghyun says after a minute of silence.
(It’s been five months. Maybe it’s time to let go.)
“I had this dream,” Jonghyun speaks, and his lips twitch into a small, sad smile that disappears moments later.
“We all do,” Kibum tells him. Jonghyun wonders if he already knows what Jonghyun’s about to say. Kibum is smart like that.
“I wanted to sing.” Jonghyun is straight-forward, to-the-point. (Like Kibum.) “Music was...” he pauses because his following words still hurt him, “it was everything to me.”
Kibum nods thoughtfully and scoots over to Jonghyun. He places a hand on his thigh and waits for the rest.
“I don’t know where I went wrong, but I auditioned for this big company and got rejected.” This is the first time Jonghyun says it aloud. It breaks him and he feels tears gathering beneath his eyelids, at the corner of his eyes. “They said it wasn’t enough.”
Jonghyun can feel Kibum’s hand squeeze his thigh when the first tear rolls down his cheek. It makes him feel a little better. (Kibum makes him feel a little better.)
“I don’t want to listen to music anymore.”
Jonghyun is fifteen and a half and it’s the end of the world as he knows it.
Jonghyun raises his hands to cover his face but Kibum grips his wrists and pulls him nearer to embrace him. Kibum’s shoulder is warm and Jonghyun clings to him as he cries silently.
“Are you sure you don’t want to?” Kibum asks, his first question.
Jonghyun nods into his neck but doesn’t do anything when Kibum begins humming a slow melody to himself, only interrupted by Jonghyun’s sniffling. By the time the song ends, Jonghyun’s eyes are closed.
“You’re not a failure, Jjongie,” Key’s voice is soft, soothing. “You just weren’t what they were looking for, but you might be what somebody else is looking for.”
Emotions well up in Jonghyun’s throat - guilt, deception, fear, the usual - but also, he feels affection towards Kibum, Kibum who is always so honest and straightforward and considerate and hopeful. He wants to say thank you, thank you for doing this, thank you for being here, for being you, but he can’t so instead he hugs him tight.
(Those who dare to dream big risk the worst nightmares.)
And now, with Kibum by his side, Jonghyun catches himself thinking that maybe the pain would dull with time, after all.
***
“Can I show you something?”
Jonghyun smiles and nods, watching with curiosity as Kibum climbs off his bed and heads to his computer, scrolling through his music library before clicking on a song.
A rhythm-heavy R&B song begins to play and Jonghyun just sits there in silence and in awe. It’s been so long since he’s listened to music. (Too long.)
Kibum counts the beats with his foot and then his body moves and he’s dancing, he’s dancing like he feels the song, the beat and Jonghyun can’t help but smile. He makes it look so easy.
Mid-song, Kibum suddenly stops when he catches Jonghyun’s grin.
“Yah! What’s so funny?” he demands, almost offended.
Jonghyun meets his dark eyes and holds his gaze, smile still in place.
“You’re good.”
All anger dissipates from Kibum’s features as he smiles back.
“Show me another.”
The smile Kibum gives him at that is blinding.
A week later, they’re sitting on Jonghyun’s bed when Kibum says:
“Play me something.”
Jonghyun looks at him with round eyes but Kibum only gestures towards his dusty guitar. Jonghyun shakes his head no (he doesn’t think he can) but Kibum pushes him off the bed. Jonghyun picks up his guitar reluctantly, like he doesn’t remember how to hold it, how it feels like in his hands but once he sets it down onto his lap, everything falls into place.
He strums over the strings once, uncertain, as the sound brings back memories (good and bad). He feels Kibum’s hand on his shoulder and then it comes back to him like a flood - all those songs and lyrics and melodies he’d created only to abandon. He feels tears welling up in his eyes but strums over the strings again. He feels Kibum settle behind him on the bed and skinny arms circle his stomach, a chest pressing into his back and a chin digging into his shoulder and suddenly he smiles, fights back the tears and clears his throat. He sings and it feels like home.
(Right there, in that moment, he is home.)
He sings the first song he’s ever written; the lyrics are silly, the melody is simple and the chords are repetitive but it’s a song that’s close to Jonghyun’s heart. It makes sense now that he’s singing it to Kibum.
The song ends - it’s too short, missing a bridge and could use another verse but Jonghyun sings it as is.
He can feel Kibum’s breath on his neck when the younger says: “You’re good.”
Jonghyun doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t thank him nor does he smile. He simply nods in acknowledgement.
“Sing me another.”
They spend hours on top of Jonghyun’s duvet. He sings until he’s exhausted his repertoire and then he sings some more, keeps playing because Kibum tells him to. (He’s missed this but it hurts, too. The memories aren’t all good.)
When Jonghyun’s voice finally grows tired and his fingers become sore, Kibum speaks up.
“You have a beautiful voice.”
Jonghyun smiles feebly; not beautiful enough he wants to say.
(It’s been seven months. It’s still not enough.)
***
The phone rings but Jonghyun doesn’t pay attention to it; he’s too busy trying to decipher his English textbook, pronouncing words aloud in an attempt to remember how all those actors say them in those movies Kibum makes him watch. It takes a knock on his bedroom door to shake him out of it.
His mother opens it and she’s holding out the telephone towards him as Jonghyun looks at her inquisitively.
“It’s Kibum,” she says, and Jonghyun is up on his feet reaching out for the phone a second later.
“Hey?” he speaks into the receiver as his mother shakes her head, but the smile on her lips betrays her.
“Hey, sorry I wasn’t in the bus tonight,” Kibum says on the other end.
“Yeah, where were you?”
“My math teacher wanted to speak to me,” the younger boy says and Jonghyun doesn’t worry because he can hear a smile in Kibum’s tone.
“Why?”
“I fell asleep during class.”
Jonghyun laughs and Kibum also erupts into a fit of chuckles.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Kibum protests between bouts of laughter.
“Of course not,” Jonghyun reiterates, smiling.
Kibum calls often after that - Jonghyun doesn’t mind, it distracts him from his English, math and biology homework (still useless useless useless). One night, Jonghyun is laying in bed with lyrics surrounding him and Kibum asks him-
“What are you doing?”
“Writing a song.”
Kibum goes quiet for a while, his dog Coco barks somewhere in the background.
“What’s it about?” The question is asked softly, carefully.
“Insomnia and two-digit IQs,” Jonghyun speaks with confidence. He can almost hear Kibum frown.
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Don’t need to. I’ve got you for that.”
Kibum gives a playful sigh.
“I’m just kidding,” Jonghyun admits, amused by Kibum’s antics, “it’s about lost love.”
“Hmm,” Kibum hums in the back of his throat, “I always knew you were a romantic.”
“Still I have romantic in my heaaart!” Jonghyun improvises a melody, in English.
“Your English is horrible.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.” And Kibum hangs up.
Jonghyun spends about two seconds listening to the dial tone, blinking to himself before calling Kibum back.
When Kibum picks up, he’s laughing.
***
The holidays roll around and Kibum leaves with his family for six days. For Jonghyun, it’s six days spent alone in his room, waiting. He’s bored, and whenever he’s bored he gets to thinking (too much) about the past, about the future. About life and about his life.
(He misses Kibum.)
On the sixth day, Jonghyun is on his bed, guitar in his lap when he hears the phone ring. He runs down the hallway to pick it up, out of breath when he speaks:
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m back,” Kibum’s voice says on the other end, “can I come over?”
“Yeah.” And Jonghyun smiles.
When Jonghyun opens the door for Kibum before the younger one could even reach the doorbell, he engulfs the taller boy in a tight hug. Jonghyun’s mother simply rolls her eyes at them.
“I brought you pocky sticks!” Kibum says when Jonghyun releases him.
“Did you have a nice trip, Kibum?” his mother asks.
“Yes, Mrs. Kim.”
She smiles at the two boys in front of her and refrains from asking more questions because she knows they have better things to be doing - like climbing the stairs to Jonghyun’s bedroom and settling down on his bed.
They munch on the sweets and talk for what seems like forever. There may or may not be some wrestling involved when Kibum labels Jonghyun’s taste in ballads as cheesy. It’s already late when the conversation lulls and Jonghyun picks up his guitar, gently strumming along to old songs. Kibum is sleepy from travelling and Jonghyun’s constant humming soothes him; before he knows it, he’s dozing off.
Jonghyun doesn’t wake him up. Instead, he sets his guitar down and sneaks out of the room to ask his mother to call Kibum’s parents to let them know he’s sleeping over. When she nods, he goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and puts the pocky wrappings in the trash (save for one that he keeps in his desk drawer) before slipping onto his mattress beside Kibum. He falls into a dreamless, soundless sleep.
***
It’s been nine and a half months when Kibum brings it up again.
“You know, I was being serious when I told you that you might be what somebody else is looking for.”
Jonghyun frowns but doesn’t look up to meet Kibum’s gaze - he pretends to be busy with the notebook laying open in front of him.
(It’s been nine and a half months and Jonghyun still never mentions it but, somehow, only Kibum is allowed to. It irks Jonghyun, though, because he doesn’t like to think about it.)
“SM is holding auditions in three months.” If Jonghyun had looked up, he would see Kibum biting his lower lip, hoping he hadn’t gone too far too fast. Yet, Jonghyun remains carefully collected (but Kibum knows better).
“So?”
“You should try out. I will.”
Jonghyun sets down his pencil but keeps his eyes trained on his notebook. He releases a sigh and Kibum doesn’t need him to open his mouth to know what his answer will be.
“I don’t know, Kibum.”
(He doesn’t think he can go through it again.)
“At least try,” Kibum pleads and Jonghyun suddenly wonders why he bothers so much. Why he cares.
Kibum places a hand on his notebook, finally drawing Jonghyun’s attention to him.
“You had big dreams, no? You told me yourself. And I know you still have them.”
When Jonghyun looks up, all he sees are deep brown eyes staring into his. He sighs again and rests his head in his hands.
“I don’t know, Kibum,” he repeats, suddenly tired.
“You don’t need to know, Jjong, you just need to try.” Kibum’s lips curve into a small smile. “I can show you some dance moves, if you want.”
Kibum’s eyes turn apprehensive as he gnaws at his lip again - he knows he’s asking for a lot. He’s asking for Jonghyun to trust him; that’s not an easy thing for Jonghyun.
(Jonghyun trusts him.)
***
They’re in a small dance studio above their school’s gym - they stay after hours and Kibum guides Jonghyun through the footsteps of a made up choreography. Kibum isn’t always patient with him, but Jonghyun finds a good way to stop his nagging when he accidentally spills water onto his shirt.
“Yah!”
Kibum is fast to grab his bottle and run after Jonghyun, threatening to spray him - he manages to douse Jonghyun’s face but the elder boy grabs onto his arm and spins him around only to send cold water dripping down his back. Kibum squirms and lets out a squeal as Jonghyun simply laughs. Then it’s Jonghyun’s turn to yell “Yah!” as Kibum rubs himself and his drenched shirt onto Jonghyun’s side.
They’re still dripping as they walk home, limbs shivering and teeth chattering, but their shared laughter and smiles distract Jonghyun from the cold.
(It’s okay, Jonghyun finds himself thinking. It’s okay because no matter what happens, he’ll always have this, these memories.)
***
“Kibum?”
They are both tired and sweaty, leaning onto the mirror in the dance studio above the gym. The date of the audition is slowly creeping up on them and Kibum looks a little weary - it bothers Jonghyun, because he’s usually all warm smiles and bright hellos. But then it occurs to Jonghyun that Kibum is entitled to feel nervous, too, that he’s human, that he can’t be in a good mood one hundred and ten percent of the time.
Jonghyun can’t blame him, not when he looks back at the ups and downs of the past eleven months of his own life. To be honest, it baffles him that Kibum stuck to him all this time - that he’s still here. Jonghyun saves the questions for later.
“You’ll do great,” he tells him when Kibum looks up from where he’s sitting with his back to the mirror, hunched.
“Thanks, Jjong. You too.”
Jonghyun hums and Kibum pulls himself back up to carry on with their practice, dragging Jonghyun along with him.
***
It’s been twelve and a half months. Jonghyun is sixteen and still thinks he’s not ready to try again. Only he doesn’t have much of a choice because Kibum is behind him, pushing him along the way.
It’s the last day before the audition and they’re sprawled on top of Kibum’s bed, not doing much. Neither of them really want to think about what if's so Jonghyun lets his mind wander to other unanswered questions. He’s known Kibum for a year, give or take.
“Why?” he asks, staring at Kibum’s ceiling.
“Why what?” He feels Kibum roll onto his side beside him.
“Why did you sit beside me in the bus?” Why are you (still) doing this is the thinly veiled question.
“I told you already,” Kibum speaks with a shrug. “You seemed lonely.”
Jonghyun frowns, not entirely satisfied.
“But why?” he presses. “Why did you stick around?” I didn’t deserve it is what he means.
He turns his head to the side to get a look at Kibum - whose eyes have gone wide, like he wasn’t expecting Jonghyun to say that.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
It was Jonghyun’s turn to shrug: something kept him from speaking up but he thinks Kibum understood just fine. He has a knack for that.
“Oh Jjong,” Kibum sighs, reaching out for Jonghyun’s hand. “You’re my best friend. It would be selfish of me to expect you to be perfect.”
Jonghyun suddenly wonders if Kibum really is younger than him because his sixteen year old mind doesn’t fully understand what Kibum is trying to say (he’s a bit strange, sometimes). Jonghyun is frowning, deep in thought, attempting to make sense of those elusive words when Kibum squeezes his hand. He looks up and Kibum is smiling at him.
(Growing up is never easy, but it’s a bit easier when you don’t have to do it alone.)
***
Jonghyun’s audition passes by in a blur of colours, sounds, movements and memories. When he sings, he is brought back to evenings spent in his or Kibum’s room, singing along to his favourite songs. When he dances, he remembers water fights in a stuffy studio and breaks taken against a grand mirror.
When he’s done and has answered the board’s few questions, he stands alone on the small stage and waits, trying to keep his nerves steady. He can’t really compare it to his first audition because he doesn’t remember much of it. He tries not to hope for anything, to keep his expectations in check but a part of himself keeps wishing in spite of everything.
“You sing with emotion,” the main recruiting agent tells him when he’s done talking to the others. “I like that. Actually, I like that a lot.”
Jonghyun gives an uncertain smile. He doesn’t let himself hope, not yet.
“You can expect a call in the next few days,” the company’s representative nods his head as a gesture of approval, “congratulations.”
Jonghyun bows to everyone in the room but doesn’t fully register what has happened yet. He can feel tears brimming the corners of his eyes but they don’t spill over, not yet.
He doesn’t realize it when his legs take him back to the waiting room where he looks for Kibum, but must have missed him because the boy is nowhere to be found. Jonghyun waits by the door, mind cautiously blank because he can’t celebrate just yet (but his chest definitely feels much lighter).
He waits while this strange feeling of bubbles in his stomach spreads. That’s when he realizes that the nerves are still there because the only thing he wants more than anything at this point is for Kibum to make it, too. Jonghyun doesn’t think he can do this alone. (And he doesn’t want to, not when he could do it with Kibum.)
When Kibum finally opens the door, he has the biggest smile on and walks straight towards Jonghyun.
Jonghyun smiles back.
“I got picked,” Jonghyun tells him solemnly, still not entirely believing the words that escape his mouth.
“Me too,” Kibum answers and his smile is as bright as ever.
Thank you Jonghyun wants to say, thank you for everything, but he doesn’t think he can, not with the way Kibum is smiling in front of him and looking like, well, like the world has changed for them.
Before Kibum can do anything, Jonghyun leans in and kisses him on the lips. It was meant as a simple thank you but it becomes more than that when he feels Kibum smiling into the kiss.
Jonghyun pulls back, a bit confused but Kibum just reaches out to hold his hand, still smiling.
(Kibum is a strange boy, but Jonghyun would be a fool not to love him so.)
__________________
A/N: I always have trouble with endings T.T so, yeah, picture? :D
(Credits to BananaJuicy for the pic ^^)