a table for four (1/?)
a table for four (1/?)
~ 3,070 w, pg, (minho/taemin/sulli/krystal)
she’s the odd one out, Krystal realizes but then again, the number used to be an even one.
■ in response to vibranthue prompts, all of them smashed into one since this is going to be like a gazillion part lol
■ i'm a f(x) esp sulli and krystal shipping whore but let's face it, these four were the original OT4
It’s a relationship that starts like all the others, in twos. It’s only when you put two and two together that things starts to escalate beyond control and break into little pieces of love and friendship - just like the four of them.
They've come full circle now. It may be an ending but what they have ended will begin again.
-
Jinri’s all kind of obsessed.
She stares out the window, all wide eyes, watching the ebony haired girl and the way she moves. Krystal’s all kind of perfect - she exudes charm and seduction.
There are times when they stand in the same room, only a reach away, yet Jinri will feel that there’s a gaping distance between them that grows by the minute.
“Are you daydreaming again?”
Minho sits down on the floor next to her and starts rolling his shoulders back, letting out a relaxed sigh now and then.
She throws him a towel and say, “Was it really bad today?”
He lies down and sigh some more. “Coach Kim was putting in extra effort today in trying to kill us all, you’re lucky you don’t have fitness with him.” Minho says and dabs at his sweaty forehead with her towel before handing it back to her. “Why are you here early?”
She ignores this and crawls to her duffel bag, stuffing the now damp cloth in the side pocket. His eyes are on her the whole time, burning a hole of suspicion through her back before averting to the window and give a disbelieving little laugh, “Right, it’s that new girl again, why didn’t I see it coming?”
Her sigh sounds full of guilt. “Go on, make fun of me.”
His head tilts slightly, a real curiosity in his gaze. “You’re always watching her when you have the chance?” he pauses a little, “Why?”
“You know why,” she replies, mind out the foggy glass again, “She doesn’t belong in here with any of us. She shouldn’t even be in training, she should be out there - on the stage, dancing, singing, getting fawned over by the world,” she takes a sharp intake of breathe then tear her eyes away from the outside view to meet Minho’s. “She’s electric.”
Minho hangs his head, smiling a little. “Right,” he says wryly then pushes off the floor, “Try and take your strong admiration down a notch, she’ll probably be more horrified than flattered if she ever finds out.”
Jinri wonders just how she has become so invested in a girl who has never spoken even a word to her.
Taemin fiddles with the lock, pushing open the door before slipping the spare key back in its hiding place out in the hall. He looks around and frowns. He thought Jong In would be here.
“Who’s there?”
The delicate voice is somewhat at odds with the woman it belongs to, who strikes the perfect image of a bombshell - overpowered with a sexual aura but lack the quality of girlish, shyness found common in most female. He’d say she’s a part of his midnight fantasy but her scent is invading his senses and it’s the realest thing he’s ever experienced in his life.
“How come you’re still here?” she asks in a dull voice, closes the door behind her. “It’s late.”
His heart is pounding against his chest so violently the room spins a little. He knows that if it wasn’t the darkness, she would surely be able to spot the faint shade of crimson rose painted on his cheeks.
Taemin gulps, failing to find his voice. “I - I -“ Again he gulps and give it another go, “I th - thought my friend would be in here.” Then adds a beat too quickly, “We we - were going to practice and everything - really big test tomorrow for our class.”
She stares at him, doesn’t respond for a moment. “Are you going to stay in here?”
“Where?”
“In the practice room,” she says, sounding annoyed, “Here”
“Right.” Taemin mentally kicks himself. What a stupid, obvious - he’s not even thinking. “I want to leave but if my friend turns up he’s going to be upset with
me and you know, so maybe I should wa -“
“Forget it,” she waves off and twists the door knob, “You stay, I’ll go.”
He never will find out if she actually remembers any of it.
Krystal notices him before he even notices her.
The first thing he notices about her isn’t her onyx black eyes or the pouty cherry lips or her ghostly pale complexion but his mud clumped shoes in her hand.
He looks up at her and sees the unpleasant look she’s giving him. “Are these yours?” she asks.
“Yeah, it is.” Minho replies, a little baffled at the sight of his runners as he leans over the desk to get a closer to look. “How come you have them?”
She sighs a little, eyes wandering around the room before she makes her way to the nearest unoccupied chair and drag it across to room, to where he’s been
sitting. Another sigh escapes her lips when she sits, she tosses her hair a little. “What’s your name?”
“Choi Minho”
“Okay,” she nods then makes a show of inspecting his dirty footwear, “It says here, Choi Minho - that’s your name.” She says and shoves the stitch label in his face, making her point. “I don’t see it saying ‘Jung Krystal’ anywhere so next time,” there’s a pause where she throws the shoes at him and he fumbles, “Take better care of your stuff and don’t leave it lying around my locker.”
He watches her walk away and catches the smile playing on her lips when she swivels around to savor one last moment between them.
She takes a bite of her apple and loses count of the days this has been reoccurring. It’s been the same routine for a couple of dinner now - Krystal would sit alone at her usual table for four and wait five minutes before he appears only two tables away, with a plateful of canteen food and his set of watchful eyes.
There he would be, just like a shadow, following her wherever she goes.
Her teeth sink into the core when she passes him. Handsome, like she expected, he possesses the innocence most of them have lost on their way to the youthful dream. Ultimately, he’s not a man, not a teenager but a boy.
Krystal’s got her hip against the side of his chair and lips next to his ears, she whispers and knows he hears every word of it, “You can sit with me next time.”
Minho is in the rehearsal room, sitting uncomfortably at the very edge of his chair with a drenched towel in his hand, trying to wipe off the bead of sweats dripping down his body. It’s stressful times - the kind that they fight tooth and nail to get where they want. No one wants to go, he thinks, everybody wants to stay but he wants it more than anyone else in this room. Except maybe -
“It’s been five minutes,” the dance instructor yells, his gaze set on him and him only, “Time to stop lazing around and do something.”
Remembering the steps has never been a problem for him, but doing it is. So he stumbles back a little into someone behind him, tripping over their feet and fall to the ground with a disgraceful ‘thud’.
His painful groan is drowned under the sound of horrific gasps and pitiful gazes. Minho’s a fighter, he is his father’s son but at this moment, he has lost the ability to stand up and run to victory.
There’s a time where every man admits defeat and right now, the moment is his.
When his eyes flutter open again, it’s lock with hers. Something flickers between them, like electricity coursing through his veins and Minho knows she feels it too because she’s running, pushing through people and causing chaos but she comes to him.
“What are you doing, Jung?” Instructor Lee yells but it’s only a noise to them, not a demand anymore. “Jung!”
She throws her arms around him and his finds his circling around her waist. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, almost like two puzzle piece fitting together. “Are you okay?” Krystal asks, her voice trembling.
There’s an answer somewhere, he thinks but she has paralyzed him. From head to toe, he is paralyses but none of that matter anymore, his pain is painless and his words remain only a thought.
“You need to go see the nurse,” she says anxiously, caressing his ankle ever so gently, “Now.”
Minho’s gaze never left her, still he can spot instructor Lee standing behind her. “No, he doesn’t! Both of you, go back to practice! Now!”
“Shut up” her voice is sharp and so are her eyes when she turns to the older man, there is venom and aggression swimming in those orbs, “If he doesn’t go see the nurse now, he might fail the test.” Krystal says quickly and pulls him up in one swift motion, her grip secure around his waist. “And you will be the one to blame, Instructor Lee.”
On the way to the sick bay, they don’t exchange meaningless words, only meaningful looks.
Jinri knows people, perhaps too many of them.
“Have you heard about what happened with Minho and that, Krystal girl this morning?” Jihyun, one of the trainees in her vocal class, tells her in a whisper despite being the only two girls in the bathroom.
Her hand freezes under the warm water for a second then shakes her head. “Is she okay?”
“She?” Jinhyun laughs incredulously, “She’s perfectly fine, it’s Minho who’s not.”
She heaves a sigh of relieve and tune out for the rest of that conversation.
“How come you’re sitting alone today?” Jong In asks with a teasing smile, pulling out the chair Krystal usually occupies. “You’ve been sitting with Krystal for the past three days, can’t even get through five?” Jong In gives him a playful slap on the back, unaware of his silence when he walks off with Suho.
Taemin waits, he thinks he will always be waiting for her.
“Hey,” a small voice brings him out of his reverie, “Can I sit here?”
Krystal thinks about the way he falls to the floor and takes her heart down with him.
It all feels like a big joke to her, what she did and who she helped. There’s an explanation to everything, she used to think, until now because Krystal doesn’t know why she didn’t twist the knife and let him bleed but bandaged his wound up instead.
It’s not only her who’s looking for answers. “Why did you help me?”
She purses her lips and something pulls her to his side, she shifts closer to him, then whispers, “I don’t know, it just happened.”
“Do you regret it?” he asks.
“No” the answer comes flying out before she has time to think. “Would you regret it, if you were me?”
He doesn’t look at her, just sigh and retreat the ice pack from his swollen ankle. “I think…” he pauses and she holds her breath, “I would have done the same for you.”
“I know” and that’s the truth.
Jinri can tell almost instantly that Taemin is in love with Krystal.
It’s the way he bites his bottom lips and look at his shoes when he talks about her. How his eyes dart around the room in a frantic manner every five minutes - searching for something that will never come. His smile when he utters her name.
A blind man would know and a girl would know better.
“Are you friends with her?” he asks finally, giving the Krystal talk a rest.
She shakes her head. “No, not really.”
“Oh,” he says quietly, “Uh…well…you’re popular, you know it’s true,” he rambles, scratching his head, “You guys will get to know each other at some stage.
She’ll like you - I mean everyone around here likes you so why wouldn’t she?” Later he adds a bit too slowly, “You guys will be friends.”
Jinri chuckles, playing with the heap of salad on her plate. “You really think so?”
“Of course,” he replies, full of enthusiasm, “I don’t see how anyone could not like you, Jinri.”
She just smiles a little and it’s because Taemin is really cute and really sweet, the kind of sweet that guys never are anymore. Jinri likes that. She likes that a lot.
Minho notices her first this time but she doesn’t notice him.
His feet move on its own accord to her and his mind thinks about all the things he could say to her - Hey, thanks for yesterday or I’m Minho, remember me from yesterday? Maybe even - Are you ready for tomorrow? I wouldn’t if it wasn’t because of you.
There are things they could say each other, it could be sweet things too.
But he doesn’t even get a morning greeting. A high ponytailed brunette walks into the scene and Minho recognizes her as Choi Jinri.
Jinri notices him but Krystal never does.
When Taemin yells, “Krystal, we’re here,” she doesn’t expect the half of the ‘we’ to be Jinri.
The name Choi Jinri floats around like the wind, in out ear and out the other. It’s a familiar one but Krystal has never met the infamous girl until this afternoon in acting. Her smile is kind of like a cartoon princess and she talks animatedly about classes and the activities within them.
They’re the opposite, the kind that does attract.
She sits down between Taemin and Jinri, letting them fill her in on their conversation. The two of them are the same kind, Krystal thinks between Taemin’s jokes and Jinri’s laughter, but she’s not.
She’s the odd one out, Krystal realizes but then again, the number used to be an even one.
Sometime down the line, far away but not far enough, at the vending machine:
“So you’re friends with Krystal now, huh?”
Jinri swivels around and there’s Minho, hovering over her with a mocking smirk. “Yeah, I am.”
“How, I wonder,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm and feigns the pondering look. “Through that Taemin guy, I bet.”
She’s uncomfortable at the scrutiny. “It’s not really any of your business, Minho.”
Impatiently, he says, “Krystal’s not your business either but you’re still there, at her table, in her conversation,”Jinri turns away from him, having just about enough of this conversation but he grabs her shoulder and makes her face him again. “Was it through Taemin?”
Jinri makes a series of tiny, panic gestures - he shakes his head, shrugs, nods, bites his lip and look down at the ground.
Minho sighs, frustrated, annoyed. She can’t tell anymore. “Is this friendship between you and Taemin even genuine? Or is that just an act you put up to get close to her?”
She sighs, offers finally, “It doesn’t matter, Minho.”
“Right,” he scoffs, “Does she know about your obsession wi -“
“I am not obsessed with her” she snaps, hands balling into fists.
Minho's mouth tightens. “You are.”
“So what if I am? She’s perfection, nothing less,” she says, a little helplessly, “Isn’t it great that we’re friends now? I don’t have to watch her from the window anymore, Minho, she’s right there - infront of m -“
“Jinri”
“She doesn’t have to find out” she says stubbornly.
“But she will” Minho says firmly.
On a Saturday morning, by coincident, she rides on the same bus as him. Minho gets on by the fourth stop and spots her almost right away. They mumble a ‘good morning’ to each other and she shifts a little to the side for him to sit beside her. They squint at each other under the sunlight.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks. “I think we’ve got a smile there.”
She rolls her eyes a little. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
The question surprises her, but Krystal only shrugs one delicate shoulder, unable to explain in exact words. “Like you’re happy to see me.”
“I am…” he gazes into her eyes, piercing, all-consuming. She clings onto his next words. “Happy to see you, Krystal.” He relaxes against the seat and stares up at the ceiling like it’s anything fascinating. “I know you’re happy to see me too.”
Krystal gives him a doubtful look and Minho smiles at her with the beginning of real fondness when he says. “We could be friends.”
“Aren’t we?”
Taemin is a dancer, he likes think, not a singer but Krystal is both. It’s a rare combination to come by in a trainee, to excel in both area without much effort and to top it off, her beauty is comparable to diamonds and spring.
Her loveliness goes on and on, Taemin never wants it to stop.
Krystal comes up from behind, her arms loosely around his neck as a greeting. “Why do you always come and wait for me, Tae?”
His stomach flutters at the sweetness of her calling him ‘Tae’. “Why? Don’t you want to walk together to training?” he asks, feeling a bit insecure with her question. “We go the same way, you know, so it just saves time and I like your com -“
“Stop” her chuckles interrupts his speech. “I want to always walk with you, Tae. It was only a question, that’s all.” Krystal beams up at him, linking her arm with his. He swallows, seeming to shiver himself under her touch. “Let’s go, I don’t want to be late. Again.”
Krystal is cold. Krystal is quiet. Krystal is closed. But with him, Krystal is, vibrant, the seven shades of rainbow with sunbeam likened smiles.
He wants to bottle up her happiness and keep it all to himself.
He moves into Taemin’s vocal class. They sit next to each other, the silence stretches between them even if it’s a comfortable one.
“Hey” Taemin blinks.
Minho blinks. “Hey”
A simple hello could lead to a million things, friendship and brotherhood included.
-
They sit together at the table for four.
Jinri glances at Minho and smiles a little, and Taemin laugh is wild and free while Krystal grins, leans forward to tap her glass against theirs in a little toast to nothing, and laughs too, feeling invincible.
NEXT >>>
~ 3,070 w, pg, (minho/taemin/sulli/krystal)
she’s the odd one out, Krystal realizes but then again, the number used to be an even one.
■ in response to vibranthue prompts, all of them smashed into one since this is going to be like a gazillion part lol
■ i'm a f(x) esp sulli and krystal shipping whore but let's face it, these four were the original OT4
It’s a relationship that starts like all the others, in twos. It’s only when you put two and two together that things starts to escalate beyond control and break into little pieces of love and friendship - just like the four of them.
They've come full circle now. It may be an ending but what they have ended will begin again.
-
Jinri’s all kind of obsessed.
She stares out the window, all wide eyes, watching the ebony haired girl and the way she moves. Krystal’s all kind of perfect - she exudes charm and seduction.
There are times when they stand in the same room, only a reach away, yet Jinri will feel that there’s a gaping distance between them that grows by the minute.
“Are you daydreaming again?”
Minho sits down on the floor next to her and starts rolling his shoulders back, letting out a relaxed sigh now and then.
She throws him a towel and say, “Was it really bad today?”
He lies down and sigh some more. “Coach Kim was putting in extra effort today in trying to kill us all, you’re lucky you don’t have fitness with him.” Minho says and dabs at his sweaty forehead with her towel before handing it back to her. “Why are you here early?”
She ignores this and crawls to her duffel bag, stuffing the now damp cloth in the side pocket. His eyes are on her the whole time, burning a hole of suspicion through her back before averting to the window and give a disbelieving little laugh, “Right, it’s that new girl again, why didn’t I see it coming?”
Her sigh sounds full of guilt. “Go on, make fun of me.”
His head tilts slightly, a real curiosity in his gaze. “You’re always watching her when you have the chance?” he pauses a little, “Why?”
“You know why,” she replies, mind out the foggy glass again, “She doesn’t belong in here with any of us. She shouldn’t even be in training, she should be out there - on the stage, dancing, singing, getting fawned over by the world,” she takes a sharp intake of breathe then tear her eyes away from the outside view to meet Minho’s. “She’s electric.”
Minho hangs his head, smiling a little. “Right,” he says wryly then pushes off the floor, “Try and take your strong admiration down a notch, she’ll probably be more horrified than flattered if she ever finds out.”
Jinri wonders just how she has become so invested in a girl who has never spoken even a word to her.
Taemin fiddles with the lock, pushing open the door before slipping the spare key back in its hiding place out in the hall. He looks around and frowns. He thought Jong In would be here.
“Who’s there?”
The delicate voice is somewhat at odds with the woman it belongs to, who strikes the perfect image of a bombshell - overpowered with a sexual aura but lack the quality of girlish, shyness found common in most female. He’d say she’s a part of his midnight fantasy but her scent is invading his senses and it’s the realest thing he’s ever experienced in his life.
“How come you’re still here?” she asks in a dull voice, closes the door behind her. “It’s late.”
His heart is pounding against his chest so violently the room spins a little. He knows that if it wasn’t the darkness, she would surely be able to spot the faint shade of crimson rose painted on his cheeks.
Taemin gulps, failing to find his voice. “I - I -“ Again he gulps and give it another go, “I th - thought my friend would be in here.” Then adds a beat too quickly, “We we - were going to practice and everything - really big test tomorrow for our class.”
She stares at him, doesn’t respond for a moment. “Are you going to stay in here?”
“Where?”
“In the practice room,” she says, sounding annoyed, “Here”
“Right.” Taemin mentally kicks himself. What a stupid, obvious - he’s not even thinking. “I want to leave but if my friend turns up he’s going to be upset with
me and you know, so maybe I should wa -“
“Forget it,” she waves off and twists the door knob, “You stay, I’ll go.”
He never will find out if she actually remembers any of it.
Krystal notices him before he even notices her.
The first thing he notices about her isn’t her onyx black eyes or the pouty cherry lips or her ghostly pale complexion but his mud clumped shoes in her hand.
He looks up at her and sees the unpleasant look she’s giving him. “Are these yours?” she asks.
“Yeah, it is.” Minho replies, a little baffled at the sight of his runners as he leans over the desk to get a closer to look. “How come you have them?”
She sighs a little, eyes wandering around the room before she makes her way to the nearest unoccupied chair and drag it across to room, to where he’s been
sitting. Another sigh escapes her lips when she sits, she tosses her hair a little. “What’s your name?”
“Choi Minho”
“Okay,” she nods then makes a show of inspecting his dirty footwear, “It says here, Choi Minho - that’s your name.” She says and shoves the stitch label in his face, making her point. “I don’t see it saying ‘Jung Krystal’ anywhere so next time,” there’s a pause where she throws the shoes at him and he fumbles, “Take better care of your stuff and don’t leave it lying around my locker.”
He watches her walk away and catches the smile playing on her lips when she swivels around to savor one last moment between them.
She takes a bite of her apple and loses count of the days this has been reoccurring. It’s been the same routine for a couple of dinner now - Krystal would sit alone at her usual table for four and wait five minutes before he appears only two tables away, with a plateful of canteen food and his set of watchful eyes.
There he would be, just like a shadow, following her wherever she goes.
Her teeth sink into the core when she passes him. Handsome, like she expected, he possesses the innocence most of them have lost on their way to the youthful dream. Ultimately, he’s not a man, not a teenager but a boy.
Krystal’s got her hip against the side of his chair and lips next to his ears, she whispers and knows he hears every word of it, “You can sit with me next time.”
Minho is in the rehearsal room, sitting uncomfortably at the very edge of his chair with a drenched towel in his hand, trying to wipe off the bead of sweats dripping down his body. It’s stressful times - the kind that they fight tooth and nail to get where they want. No one wants to go, he thinks, everybody wants to stay but he wants it more than anyone else in this room. Except maybe -
“It’s been five minutes,” the dance instructor yells, his gaze set on him and him only, “Time to stop lazing around and do something.”
Remembering the steps has never been a problem for him, but doing it is. So he stumbles back a little into someone behind him, tripping over their feet and fall to the ground with a disgraceful ‘thud’.
His painful groan is drowned under the sound of horrific gasps and pitiful gazes. Minho’s a fighter, he is his father’s son but at this moment, he has lost the ability to stand up and run to victory.
There’s a time where every man admits defeat and right now, the moment is his.
When his eyes flutter open again, it’s lock with hers. Something flickers between them, like electricity coursing through his veins and Minho knows she feels it too because she’s running, pushing through people and causing chaos but she comes to him.
“What are you doing, Jung?” Instructor Lee yells but it’s only a noise to them, not a demand anymore. “Jung!”
She throws her arms around him and his finds his circling around her waist. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, almost like two puzzle piece fitting together. “Are you okay?” Krystal asks, her voice trembling.
There’s an answer somewhere, he thinks but she has paralyzed him. From head to toe, he is paralyses but none of that matter anymore, his pain is painless and his words remain only a thought.
“You need to go see the nurse,” she says anxiously, caressing his ankle ever so gently, “Now.”
Minho’s gaze never left her, still he can spot instructor Lee standing behind her. “No, he doesn’t! Both of you, go back to practice! Now!”
“Shut up” her voice is sharp and so are her eyes when she turns to the older man, there is venom and aggression swimming in those orbs, “If he doesn’t go see the nurse now, he might fail the test.” Krystal says quickly and pulls him up in one swift motion, her grip secure around his waist. “And you will be the one to blame, Instructor Lee.”
On the way to the sick bay, they don’t exchange meaningless words, only meaningful looks.
Jinri knows people, perhaps too many of them.
“Have you heard about what happened with Minho and that, Krystal girl this morning?” Jihyun, one of the trainees in her vocal class, tells her in a whisper despite being the only two girls in the bathroom.
Her hand freezes under the warm water for a second then shakes her head. “Is she okay?”
“She?” Jinhyun laughs incredulously, “She’s perfectly fine, it’s Minho who’s not.”
She heaves a sigh of relieve and tune out for the rest of that conversation.
“How come you’re sitting alone today?” Jong In asks with a teasing smile, pulling out the chair Krystal usually occupies. “You’ve been sitting with Krystal for the past three days, can’t even get through five?” Jong In gives him a playful slap on the back, unaware of his silence when he walks off with Suho.
Taemin waits, he thinks he will always be waiting for her.
“Hey,” a small voice brings him out of his reverie, “Can I sit here?”
Krystal thinks about the way he falls to the floor and takes her heart down with him.
It all feels like a big joke to her, what she did and who she helped. There’s an explanation to everything, she used to think, until now because Krystal doesn’t know why she didn’t twist the knife and let him bleed but bandaged his wound up instead.
It’s not only her who’s looking for answers. “Why did you help me?”
She purses her lips and something pulls her to his side, she shifts closer to him, then whispers, “I don’t know, it just happened.”
“Do you regret it?” he asks.
“No” the answer comes flying out before she has time to think. “Would you regret it, if you were me?”
He doesn’t look at her, just sigh and retreat the ice pack from his swollen ankle. “I think…” he pauses and she holds her breath, “I would have done the same for you.”
“I know” and that’s the truth.
Jinri can tell almost instantly that Taemin is in love with Krystal.
It’s the way he bites his bottom lips and look at his shoes when he talks about her. How his eyes dart around the room in a frantic manner every five minutes - searching for something that will never come. His smile when he utters her name.
A blind man would know and a girl would know better.
“Are you friends with her?” he asks finally, giving the Krystal talk a rest.
She shakes her head. “No, not really.”
“Oh,” he says quietly, “Uh…well…you’re popular, you know it’s true,” he rambles, scratching his head, “You guys will get to know each other at some stage.
She’ll like you - I mean everyone around here likes you so why wouldn’t she?” Later he adds a bit too slowly, “You guys will be friends.”
Jinri chuckles, playing with the heap of salad on her plate. “You really think so?”
“Of course,” he replies, full of enthusiasm, “I don’t see how anyone could not like you, Jinri.”
She just smiles a little and it’s because Taemin is really cute and really sweet, the kind of sweet that guys never are anymore. Jinri likes that. She likes that a lot.
Minho notices her first this time but she doesn’t notice him.
His feet move on its own accord to her and his mind thinks about all the things he could say to her - Hey, thanks for yesterday or I’m Minho, remember me from yesterday? Maybe even - Are you ready for tomorrow? I wouldn’t if it wasn’t because of you.
There are things they could say each other, it could be sweet things too.
But he doesn’t even get a morning greeting. A high ponytailed brunette walks into the scene and Minho recognizes her as Choi Jinri.
Jinri notices him but Krystal never does.
When Taemin yells, “Krystal, we’re here,” she doesn’t expect the half of the ‘we’ to be Jinri.
The name Choi Jinri floats around like the wind, in out ear and out the other. It’s a familiar one but Krystal has never met the infamous girl until this afternoon in acting. Her smile is kind of like a cartoon princess and she talks animatedly about classes and the activities within them.
They’re the opposite, the kind that does attract.
She sits down between Taemin and Jinri, letting them fill her in on their conversation. The two of them are the same kind, Krystal thinks between Taemin’s jokes and Jinri’s laughter, but she’s not.
She’s the odd one out, Krystal realizes but then again, the number used to be an even one.
Sometime down the line, far away but not far enough, at the vending machine:
“So you’re friends with Krystal now, huh?”
Jinri swivels around and there’s Minho, hovering over her with a mocking smirk. “Yeah, I am.”
“How, I wonder,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm and feigns the pondering look. “Through that Taemin guy, I bet.”
She’s uncomfortable at the scrutiny. “It’s not really any of your business, Minho.”
Impatiently, he says, “Krystal’s not your business either but you’re still there, at her table, in her conversation,”Jinri turns away from him, having just about enough of this conversation but he grabs her shoulder and makes her face him again. “Was it through Taemin?”
Jinri makes a series of tiny, panic gestures - he shakes his head, shrugs, nods, bites his lip and look down at the ground.
Minho sighs, frustrated, annoyed. She can’t tell anymore. “Is this friendship between you and Taemin even genuine? Or is that just an act you put up to get close to her?”
She sighs, offers finally, “It doesn’t matter, Minho.”
“Right,” he scoffs, “Does she know about your obsession wi -“
“I am not obsessed with her” she snaps, hands balling into fists.
Minho's mouth tightens. “You are.”
“So what if I am? She’s perfection, nothing less,” she says, a little helplessly, “Isn’t it great that we’re friends now? I don’t have to watch her from the window anymore, Minho, she’s right there - infront of m -“
“Jinri”
“She doesn’t have to find out” she says stubbornly.
“But she will” Minho says firmly.
On a Saturday morning, by coincident, she rides on the same bus as him. Minho gets on by the fourth stop and spots her almost right away. They mumble a ‘good morning’ to each other and she shifts a little to the side for him to sit beside her. They squint at each other under the sunlight.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks. “I think we’ve got a smile there.”
She rolls her eyes a little. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
The question surprises her, but Krystal only shrugs one delicate shoulder, unable to explain in exact words. “Like you’re happy to see me.”
“I am…” he gazes into her eyes, piercing, all-consuming. She clings onto his next words. “Happy to see you, Krystal.” He relaxes against the seat and stares up at the ceiling like it’s anything fascinating. “I know you’re happy to see me too.”
Krystal gives him a doubtful look and Minho smiles at her with the beginning of real fondness when he says. “We could be friends.”
“Aren’t we?”
Taemin is a dancer, he likes think, not a singer but Krystal is both. It’s a rare combination to come by in a trainee, to excel in both area without much effort and to top it off, her beauty is comparable to diamonds and spring.
Her loveliness goes on and on, Taemin never wants it to stop.
Krystal comes up from behind, her arms loosely around his neck as a greeting. “Why do you always come and wait for me, Tae?”
His stomach flutters at the sweetness of her calling him ‘Tae’. “Why? Don’t you want to walk together to training?” he asks, feeling a bit insecure with her question. “We go the same way, you know, so it just saves time and I like your com -“
“Stop” her chuckles interrupts his speech. “I want to always walk with you, Tae. It was only a question, that’s all.” Krystal beams up at him, linking her arm with his. He swallows, seeming to shiver himself under her touch. “Let’s go, I don’t want to be late. Again.”
Krystal is cold. Krystal is quiet. Krystal is closed. But with him, Krystal is, vibrant, the seven shades of rainbow with sunbeam likened smiles.
He wants to bottle up her happiness and keep it all to himself.
He moves into Taemin’s vocal class. They sit next to each other, the silence stretches between them even if it’s a comfortable one.
“Hey” Taemin blinks.
Minho blinks. “Hey”
A simple hello could lead to a million things, friendship and brotherhood included.
-
They sit together at the table for four.
Jinri glances at Minho and smiles a little, and Taemin laugh is wild and free while Krystal grins, leans forward to tap her glass against theirs in a little toast to nothing, and laughs too, feeling invincible.
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