The world is falling in love for darkhorse1397
For: darkhorse1397
Title: The World Is Falling In Love
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Kai
Rating: G
Length: 6.6k
Summary: Actor Park Chanyeol had everything he needed for his life to be a perfect romantic comedy. Except the co-star he has in mind isn't quite following his script.
Author's note: Hello prompter! I may... have taken your prompt a little too literally, but I hope you'd enjoy this anyway!
"Of course I believe in love," Chanyeol spoke, his voice somber, his eyes fixed on his partner's eyes. "How can I not? With what we've been through? And yet here you are, standing in front of me?"
With the snow continuing to fall gently, he closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss his partner.
-- Cut!
The snow, artificial as it was, considering it was a warm mid-August evening, stopped falling.
Chanyeol opened his eyes and let go of his co-star's hand. He gave her a huge grin.
"Good work today," he said with a polite bow.
"Good work today," she replied with a shy smile and her own polite bow.
She just debuted last year, a rising star, and all the tabloids and netizens said this romantic drama with veteran romantic actor Park Chanyeol was sure to give her the big break she deserved.
Chanyeol himself had a pretty good feeling about this movie. He never expected his best friend Do Kyungsoo's directorial debut to be a romantic drama, considering how Kyungsoo was, but that was what the production wanted. In the end, Kyungsoo's style and ideas inspired by American and European award-winning films worked to give the genre a fresh twist.
At least in Chanyeol's opinion.
And he believed his opinion to be pretty informed too. This was far from his first romance movie. In fact, in his seven years experience as a professional actor, most of his roles had been for romance movies.
Not that he minded. He always had liked romance, with their loving lines and optimistic storylines.
"Good work today," Kyungsoo echoed. He had been bowing down to every staff member and actor repeating the same phrase again and again at the end of every filming session that the words spilled out of him like it was reflex.
"You too," Chanyeol gave his best friend a playful punch on the shoulder. "Almost done huh?"
"Yeah," Kyungsoo said with a wary smile. "Just the train scene left. And maybe we should redo--"
"Just the train scene left," Chanyeol emphasised. "Stop being such a perfectionist 'Soo."
"Is the train scene even a good idea," Kyungsoo fretted. "I'm having second thoughts."
"It's a great idea," Chanyeol assured. He had read the revised script where his character met his eventual lover on the metro rail. It was perfect, as trains became a repeating image in every other scene even if there're no other scenes on an actual train beside that and the very end. "I swear I'm not saying this 'cause you're my best friend. I'm saying it cause it's good."
Kyungsoo sighed and looked up at Chanyeol with wary eyes. "You should go home."
"And you should too."
Chanyeol gave a reassuring grip on Kyungsoo's shoulder before being waved away. He considered briefly about inviting Kyungsoo for a drink, but he knew that wasn't what Kyungsoo needed.
"Seriously 'Soo, go home and sleep.”
Kyungsoo nodded weakly and moved to pack his bags at the trailers, waving Chanyeol goodbye with a final murmur of "good work today."
It was then that Zitao appeared.
Timely as usual.
Zitao was the kind of manager that shouldn't exist. He was always timely, always knew the latest trends and fashion, always available when needed and still looked fabulous to his six hundred thousand Instagram followers.
Chanyeol was glad Zitao was his manager, even if the younger boy had a tendency to judge everything Chanyeol wore and some things he did and was never scared of showing his judgement.
"Your cab is here," Zitao said curtly. He had been up with Chanyeol since morning. He extended his hands to take Chanyeol's costume, the coat and scarf that had been killing him all day with how hot it was.
"I'm not taking a cab though," Chanyeol said.
Zitao raised his eyebrow. There it was. The Zitao Judgement. He spoke politely, but it was a sort of polite condescension.
"Then pray tell, how are you planning on getting home, Mister Park?"
"Train? One of the sales pitch of my apartment is the nearby train station isn't it?"
"And why would you do that?" Zitao rubbed his temples.
"Kyungsoo's train scene gave me an idea," Chanyeol shrugged. "Maybe I'll meet that someone special on the train."
"You'd be mobbed by fangirls," Zitao said and took a deep breath. "You want that? And you have a direct train yes, but it's an hour and a half away."
"It's not that bad, it's pretty late now," Chanyeol said. "And it's not like I'm in a rush to get home."
"You have to be on set by six tomorrow!" Zitao grumbled. "You'll be on a train all day tomorrow anyway!"
"Go use the cab Zitao," Chanyeol patted his assistant on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't hold you liable if something happens."
Zitao sighed annoyed. Sure, Zitao was stubborn, but Chanyeol was just as bad.
And Chanyeol was the one who handed out the paycheck between them.
The truth was that Chanyeol was realistic enough not to meet the love of his life on the train. He hoped he would meet the love of his life on the train.
He hoped he would meet the love of his life just about anywhere, but being famous since seventeen made that a little difficult.
He didn't really want to have a relationship with one of his coworkers not because he didn't like them, but because he didn't quite feel a spark for any of them.
And it was difficult meeting someone who didn't really know him. 'Can I have your autograph?' Isn't exactly a perfect romcom spark inducing first line.
But he didn’t exactly want to go home either.
His home was a large flat, beautiful city view and all of those signs that screamed he made it somehow.
But home was also an empty flat that also reminded him he’s still missing something.
Someone.
Chanyeol sighed as he leaned back on his seat on the train. Kyungsoo had chosen a good filming location, but it was pretty out of the way. Considering how late it was it was no surprise then, even after a few stops only a few other people piled in.
An asleep, ragged looking man, a tired old lady, and then after a couple of stops a family whose preteen daughter waved at him.
He waved back. One didn’t get to be national favourite without being nice to his fans.
Another few stops and people about his age filled in the train. He glanced out at the signboard to see it was a university stop.
That explained it. The students looked far too tired to even look up, many of them slumping into the seats or leaning on the available support poles.
The young man who sat next to Chanyeol was one of them.
Chanyeol almost did not register him at all.
And then he heard that.
The boy's headphones was blasting loud music throughout the entire ride, but then it got louder and Chanyeol was able to recognise this song.
Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy.
Who the fuck listened to Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy on an eleven PM train?
But before he could take a proper look at the boy, the train came to a half and the boy clumsily scrambled up.
Chanyeol hadn’t noticed exactly how many stops it had been and how comfortable the boy had made himself in his seat till he watched as the boy rushed to stuff his earphones into his pocket and pick up his multiple bags, moving quickly and clumsily all while watching the train door anxiously.
He made it out just in time, lithe body and pretty figure scrambling out without care.
That would have been a good start to his story, Chanyeol thought to himself as he watched the door close behind the boy. I met my true love because he listened to Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy on a near-midnight train. Cute and romantic and that little bit of classy yet not too classy it would alienate the audience.
He sighed. There were only a few people left on the train now, and the seat beside him remained empty. He glanced at it and thought of what could have been --
Wait.
Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at the book that was left on the seat where his perhaps true love had been. The book was a standard issue, cheap looking notebook, thin and paperback, with a dark blue cover and the university emblem on the middle of it. It looked worn and well-used, more so than the typical university notebook.
Out of curiosity, he picked it up and flicked through it.
And his eyes widened as he realised what it was. His lips formed a smile.
A book of poetry, some print-outs and photocopies, annotated by the owner. Some seemed to be hand-written, although of those, most were annotated.
Chanyeol had never seen so many pretty words in one standard issue notebook.
He flipped to the first page of the book, careful so it wouldn’t fall apart, and found a sticker label tacked on to the inside cover:
PROPERTY OF KIM JONGIN
IF FOUND PLEASE CALL:
A phone number.
But more importantly, a name. Kim Jongin.
Chanyeol’s smile grew into a grin.
This was his story.
As soon as he got home he called the number on the cover. He deliberated telling Zitao about it first, but he would imagine Zitao being either grouchy because he woke him up or grouchy because he ruined his perfect selfie angle for his Instagram good night. On top of that, Zitao would probably tell him to let the agency deal with returning the notebook alongside a special celebrity note that would go viral if the owner posted it on twitter or something.
That wasn’t what Chanyeol want. He didn’t need any more of fame.
He also considered that perhaps Jongin was already asleep.
Still, he reasoned if Jongin was, he could just call again tomorrow.
The phone was picked up within three rings.
“Hello?” A deep male voice greeted him.
“Hello sorry for calling so late, is, er - Kim Jongin there?”
Chanyeol worried that he had gotten the number wrong, but he liked this. He liked saying Kim Jongin’s name.
“Oh - hold on for a second.”
He could hear the man call out Jongin’s name and walk away. A minute later another voice picked up.
“Hello?”
The voice sounded frazzled. Deep in its own way. Not exactly what Chanyeol imagined the boy who scrambled out of the train’s voice to have sounded like, even if his only experience with Jongin prior to this was that little gap of time on the train, on which they were supposed to be nowhere.
“Hi, Jongin? I found your notebook--”
“-- You did?” Jongin asked. Jongin laughed and suddenly he did fit into Chanyeol’s imagined story on his way from the train, relived. “Seriously? And you called? I mean -- Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Chanyeol smiled, even if Jongin couldn’t see him smile, he hoped Jongin saw it somehow. He had been told to have a great smile. “Did I wake you?”
“Wake-- oh no, no,” Jongin laughed again, this time sounding embarrassed. “I was... looking for the notebook, so thank you. Really.”
“You go to Y University? I’ll pass it to you at the campus tomorrow?”
“Oh -- yeah. Yeah, if it doesn’t trouble you.”
“I have work nearby and can go there for lunch,” he said. That was true. While they expect to be shooting for the whole day tomorrow, he would definitely at least have an hour off.
“I’ll give you my Kakao ID?” Jongin offered.
Chanyeol took a pen and small sticky notes he kept on his bedside table. Usually, he use them to keep note of his script.
This time he’s using it to move forward a romantic story of his own.
He woke up to apologetic and thankful stickers from Jongin on his KKT. He replied with stickers back, happy, animated ones, before messaging Jongin a ‘see you later’.
Jongin replied with a ‘see you!’ when he was already in the cab with Zitao.
Again, his lips curled into a wide smile.
“What are you smiling about?” Zitao asked, annoyed. Chanyeol realised Zitao was briefing him over the make up and shooting schedule - they were routine, of course, they have worked on this set for months and being Kyungsoo’s best friend Chanyeol knew the script and Kyungsoo’s processes very well, but Zitao always briefed and Chanyeol should really always listen.
“Nothing,” Chanyeol said as he put away his phone. But his smile only grew wider and he turned to Zitao with a full-on grin. “I’ve a lunch date.”
The way Zitao’s eyes widened would be an animator’s dream reference shot.
“It’s a boy I met on the train,” Chanyeol said smugly. “He goes to Y University.”
“Y University,” Zitao muttered as he rubbed his temples. “He’s not a fresh high school graduate kid, is he?”
“No, no, of course not!” Chanyeol paused. He didn’t know much about Jongin. Hardly even caught a glimpse of him except for his figure and bodyline. “I think not anyway.”
“You think not, Mr. Park?”
“It’s just a lunch date,” Chanyeol assured. “No big deal. And we’re filming near Y University anyway.”
Zitao sent him a glare. “I advise against this.”
“I’m not listening to your advice this time,” Chanyeol said cheerfully, the thought of meeting Jongin again in his mind.
Zitao rolled his eyes.
“When do you ever, anyway?”
“You acted really well today,” Kyungsoo said at eleven, as they took a break. “Like you get the whole mood of it.”
“Are you saying I don’t normally?” Chanyeol joked.
“Usually you’re a seventy, maybe eighty at best,” Kyungsoo said plainly. Chanyeol winced a little, but he was no longer surprised by Kyungsoo’s bluntness and criticism regarding his abilities or just about anything. “Today you’re a solid eighty-five. Ninety maybe.”
“Wow, that’s high praise from you.”
“It is,” Kyungsoo stated matter-of-factly. He stared at Chanyeol with an unreadable expression for a while before he spoke. “Did something good happen to you?”
As expected of his best friend.
“Well I met the one,” Chanyeol said with a grin.
Kyungsoo had his own judgemental face. It was different from Zitao’s. Much less exaggerated. Much more intimidating.
“The last time you said that you chased around a Chinese food delivery boy.”
“Yes,” Chanyeol admitted, spirit unfaltering. “But this is different. I’m more mature now. Older --”
“By seven months,” Kyungsoo interrupted.
“Why are you even directing a romantic drama?”
Kyungsoo shrugged. “My romantic drama doesn’t have a well known actor chasing around a nineteen year old Chinese takeaway part-timer like a lost dog..”
"Okay, we all make mistakes," Chanyeol sighed. "But I'm sure this isn't one."
Kyungsoo rolled his eyes in disbelief.
He promised to meet Jongin in one of those cafés students apparently frequent.
Not that he knew that personally. Chanyeol had never gone to Y University. Y University was for people who was actually good at studying from books. Chanyeol was never good with books.
But he had heard of this café before, as he had been to this area for a variety show once. One of those hangout thing and the café was introduced on the show as a great place for young people, including Chanyeol and his crew.
He had been there all of once.
Though as he entered the café he didn't have time he realised he didn't know how Jongin really looked like. He knew Jongin's bodyline. He knew Jongin's voice.
He knows the kind of poetry Jongin liked and loved the kind of poetry Jongin liked but he didn't know how Jongin's face looked.
Dark red T-shirt and a dark blue pair of jeans.
That was how Jongin described himself on KKT.
But that wasn't how Chanyeol ended up recognising Jongin.
He recognised Jongin by the way Jongin walked, his heavy messenger bag swung over one shoulder and his body seemingly in a bit of a graceful tumble, seeming clumsy yet in the same time managing to keep his drink and sandwich in his tray.
Jongin was sitting down on a table for two, easily visible from where Chanyeol was standing near the door.
A table for two. Chanyeol felt his heart skip a beat when he realised it'd just be him and Jongin.
And Jongin was --
Jongin was not exactly superstar good looking. He had that ordinary sort of pleasantness, messy dark brown hair, cheap looking t-shirt and an expression that was a mix of slightly confused and really sleepy.
Jongin was not what Chanyeol imagined, not quite.
Yet Jongin was somehow better for him.
He put up his best smile as he walked over, ignoring some of the looks others were giving him.
"Jongin?" He made sure to ask as he stood over Jongin.
Jongin instinctively looked up and the percentage of slightly confused on his expression mix.
"Chanyeol?" He asked.
Exactly the voice Chanyeol wanted to hear.
"Hi," Chanyeol greeted with a wide grin. "Can I sit down?"
"Of course," Jongin quickly said. He glanced around the café to see all the eyes on them. It was then that he sunk back into his seat, looking even more confused. He looked straight
into Chanyeol's eyes as he asked. "Are you famous or something?"
Well that's new, Chanyeol thought.
Pleased.
Jongin offered him sandwich and coffee, a treat for returning his book. But Chanyeol found he didn't really need sandwich and coffee, not with how Jongin's eye lit up when he saw the book, flipping through it and skimming through his poetry.
Still, Jongin insisted.
"So," Jongin said as he placed a tray with chicken and bacon sandwich and a sugary latte in front of Chanyeol. "How are you famous?"
"You don't know?"
Jongin masked his embarrassment with a smile, but Chanyeol noticed how his cheeks turned a little pink.
"I'm not good with famous people's faces," Jongin said, and after a short pause, he added an extra note "or names, if you're born after 1990. Usually."
"Why not make a guess?"
"Hmm," Jongin frowned as he concentrated his thought, his eyes staring straight into Chanyeol's. "I might have seen you before. You're not one of those people who are famous for eating on YouTube right? My roommate's really into that so if you are then..."
"I'm not," Chanyeol said. "You want to try again?"
"Instagram star?"
"You're just guessing things your roommate's into now aren't you?"
Jongin answered Chanyeol's amused grin with a large smile of his own. "Is it that obvious?"
"What do you do anyway?" Chanyeol asked, curious. It wasn't that he thought everyone should know him - but for better or worse he hardly ever met someone Jongin's age who didn't know who he was.
"I'm doing my Masters," Jongin said. "Literature. Poetry in particular," he paused. "Should I continue guessing?"
"If you want," Chanyeol said. "Though I prefer it if you do."
Jongin laughed, his eyes bent along with his voice. "I'd never get it. Give me a hint, what's your job?"
"That would give you the why."
"So that means you're," Jongin paused, leaned in a little closer and stared a little more. "A singer?"
"Sometimes, I wish I am," Chanyeol said. He really did. That was what he thought he would be famous for if anything when he was a little kid. That or vigilante superhero astronaut. "I'm an actor."
"Oh," Jongin nodded as he processed this information. "No wonder then."
"You're part of camp the book is better than the movie huh?" Chanyeol joked.
"Of course I am," Jongin said plainly with that wide smile Chanyeol was growing fond of, a little too quickly.
Jongin walked him back to the set, saying that his classes were done for the day, and although he should really get home to start on a presentation, he could spare twenty minutes to walk with Chanyeol to the set train they were filming at.
"I'm not going through that though," Jongin said as he abruptly stopped, a distance away from the crowd of students that flocked around the set.
"Don't blame you," Chanyeol said. He looked at Jongin again. The boy was checking his messenger bag, just to make sure he had everything with him this time.
Turned out that losing things were not completely uncommon for Jongin. Earlier, Chanyeol had to remind him to take his bag on the way out from the café.
"Good luck--" Jongin said with his eyes fixed on the crowd. He paused to think.. "Am I supposed to say break a leg?"
"I'll take both," Chanyeol smiled back.
Jongin's eyes were on him now.
A perfect romcom moment.
"Can I see you again?"
Chanyeol blurted out, ruining it.
Jongin blinked in confusion. "I'm a nobody."
And that's back to a romcom, Chanyeol thought, his heart pacing a bit faster and his smile felt like it could get wider except he was scared that he would scare Jongin because Zitao did say that his smile could have a little too many teeth.
"I want to see you again," he said firmly. "Can I?"
Jongin shrugged. Jongin returned Chanyeol's smile.
"You have my number."
"It wasn't a mistake," Chanyeol told Kyungsoo proudly as he returned on to the set.
Kyungsoo's large, dark eyes bore into him with disinterest.
"Good for you," he said. "Go get changed."
That was definitely a positive response as far as Kyungsoo was involved, Chanyeol believed.
“So this isn't like the Chinese delivery boy incident?” Zitao asked, disbelieving. He delivered Chanyeol's next script at night, because writers were writers regardless of whether they write fanfictions of him or his next script and tended to not finish till as late as humanly possible.
The script wasn't due for filming for another couple of months, at least, so he had plenty of time to practise while still talking to Jongin.
“I'm insulted,” Chanyeol sighed. “This is completely different.”
“You liked a stranger and chased them around?”
“I met my true love and pursued it,” Chanyeol corrected.
Zitao rolled his eyes.
“I don't see the difference.”
“There's poetry involved here,” Chanyeol grinned as he flipped open the script with a grand gesture. Yet another romcom. Another, cute, fluffy, romcom with a pretty flower name for a title.
Chanyeol's grin widened.
“Literal poetry.”
Zitao crinkled his nose.
“I need a new job.”
“Shouldn't you be busier?” Jongin asked.
They met again soon after, late in the afternoon when Chanyeol sat across Jongin at the same café, Jongin with undergrad papers he apparently had to grade as part of his part time job as a TA.
He was a TA. One of those jobs where adding cute in front of it would make the person a school dreamboat of sorts.
At least, according to the scripts Chanyeol read. The script Chanyeol was currently reading, in fact, had exactly that character.
“I just finished filming,” Chanyeol said. “Practising a new script now.”
“Not too busy?” Jongin asked as he brushed his hand past his fringe to brush them back, letting him look straight to Chanyeol. Chanyeol shook his head, and Jongin replied with a tired smile. “That's nice.”
“Grading is no fun?”
“I know I should be more appreciative of the younger generations,” Jongin said quickly. There was a 'but' on the tip of his tongue that he was careful to not let spill.
“But?”
“Don't be a bad influence,” Jongin said jokingly.
“They didn't have spellcheck enabled huh?”
“No spellcheck, plenty of autocorrects,” Jongin nodded as he said quietly, the red pen twirling in his fingers. “Anyway, even if you're free, it can't be fun watching me grade papers.”
Chanyeol shrugged. “Plenty of fun to me.”
The background noise of the café couldn't drown out Jongin's embarrassed laugh. It fitted well with it instead, like the appropriate soundtrack of a movie.
His character in the script met the girl at a café not unlike his and Jongin's. She didn't know who he was. She should, she really should, for his face was on the TV that was playing right behind her and his voice was singing a soulful ballad.
She smiled shyly and he was in love.
He laughed and she was in love.
The music played, a soft soundtrack, the notes said, not yet completed.
He asked her for dinner and she said yes.
The next couple of weeks was a whirlwind of meetings and rehearsals and Jongin. Chanyeol remembered his lines, Chanyeol remembered the faces he had to and the contracts he signed. He remembered Zitao's complaints and Zitao's eyes rolling.
But more than anything Chanyeol remembered everything Jongin did.
From the smiles and the way Jongin's hand moved across the paper with his grading pencil and the way Jongin liked his tea.
Jongin replied with words that sounded nice but nicer in his voice and Chanyeol imagined this voice as he read each text from Jongin.
Everything was perfectly aligned and Chanyeol was smittened. Chanyeol was in love. That noted incomplete soundtrack on his script sounded in his head, like the jazz of the café that became his world with Jongin.
“I want to ask you out for dinner,” Chanyeol said. Chanyeol followed his script. “I want to take you out on a dinner date.”
“He said no!” Chanyeol found himself complaining to Zitao as they were practising the script, arms thrown up in exasperation and confusion as he repeated himself again for emphasis. “He said no!”
“Okay, that is not in the script,” Zitao said, but despite the faux-annoyance in his tone, the edges of his lips curled into a little restrained smirk. “So this is like the Chinese delivery boy incident?”
“No!” Chanyeol ruffled his hair, dumping his script on the coffee table. “It's nothing like that - it's nothing like that right?”
Zitao's shrug was not reassuring enough. Chanyeol found himself groaning as he slumped down on his couch.
“It was so perfect,” he whined. “It is so perfect. We're still friends and -”
“Oh I know,” Zitao said. “And you're meeting him for coffee anyway and his laugh still sound like magic and all of that.”
Chanyeol's eyes widened. “How? I mean you're not there - you haven't met --”
“Sure,” Zitao interrupted. The smirk on his face no longer tried to hide and turned smug and knowing. “But I know you.”
“What am I doing wrong?” Chanyeol groaned again.
“You'll see,” Zitao said. “Maybe.”
“You still want to be here?” Jongin asked the next time. The tea he was drinking from the café's white cups was a familiar scent by now, plain, but somewhat pleasant. Chanyeol didn't hate it. “I'm not doing anything interesting.”
Jongin had his ring binder on his lap, his notes holepunched in, highlighted with stick tabs stuck on to the top of the pages, seemingly without order to Chanyeol.
“Am I not allowed to be here?”
“Didn't say that,” Jongin said. He paused to to think. “You know, you always talk so well.”
“I'm an actor,” Chanyeol said.
“I know,” Jongin replied.
He had gotten used to walking home with Jongin.
Throughout their walk to the train station, they talked about nothing in particular, words filling silence as it should. When they stood in the train, they let silent fall between them, the noise of the engines moving through the tunnel drowning out any possible conversations that could be.
Jongin said a bye quietly with a smile when he got to his station.
Chanyeol realised, when he got home, he couldn't quite remember much. Not the way that Jongin twirled his highlighter. Not the exact way that Jongin smiled even though he knew that Jongin did. Not the things they talked about or the exact tone of Jongin's voice although he knew they talked.
He remembered Jongin being there, as he was.
“Does that mean I got old?”
Kyungsoo didn't appreciate Chanyeol bugging him when he was working, but Zitao happened to have a day off to go on a date and refused to answer Chanyeol's call unless they were emergencies.
His failing memory was apparently not one of those emergencies.
That left Chanyeol with Kyungsoo. Best friend. Extremely busy best friend who was looking at screens with Chanyeol's face saying those perfect, memorable lines with perfect expressions to match his co-star. The music had been edited on, and it all seemed right.
Like love had to be.
“I don't get your concern,” Kyungsoo said, his annoyed tone matching the black circles under his eyes. “What's wrong with not remembering every detail?”
“Well if it's love,” Chanyeol gestured to the screens where his recorded self was confessing his love to the person he was meant to be. “Isn't it supposed to be like that?”
Kyungsoo hummed. His eyes not leaving the screen. “Do you really think so?” he asked quietly.
“Your movie is great, 'Soo,” Chanyeol assured again, holding Kyungsoo's hand in his in reassurance.
Kyungsoo turned to him and stared, large round eyes boring straight into Chanyeol's skull.
“That's not the point, though,” he pointed out.
“Maybe we're just friends,” Chanyeol mused out loud to Jongin.
Surely, Jongin fit all the characteristics of a friend. He was comfortable enough with him to talk to him and call him to chat when he had only a towel around his waist. He liked him enough to visit him regularly at the same café as Jongin sat with papers of poetry and essays, even if he couldn't remember every detail of Jongin to create that kind of romcom magic anymore.
Maybe, Jongin wasn't the one.
“Just friends, huh?” Jongin repeated.
“I mean, these are friends thing?”
“Sure,” Jongin bit on to the cap of his highlighter as he took a quick glimpse at his note. "Is that a bad thing?"
"It's just," Chanyeol paused. He wasn't quite sure how could he say this. He wasn't quite sure exactly what Jongin knew. "I liked you."
"Not anymore huh?" Jongin teased.
"It's not that," Chanyeol said. Jongin's hand had paused with the highlighter perfectly still between his fingers, his notes pressed underneath his arms as he leaned in to face Chanyeol.
That gave Chanyeol a small stage fright the way cameras hadn't. Not in years.
"It's different," he said slowly and carefully. "I guess -- I like you different now."
"Is that bad?"
Chanyeol let his eyes rest on Jongin. He let his eyes rest on how Jongin smiled.
His answer spilled without him thinking, quiet and natural and as it should be.
"It's not."
"Can't I at least ask you out somewhere else?" Chanyeol asked.
Jongin paused to think over his answer. “Do you want to help me carry books?”
Chanyeol tilted his head. “Do you need my help carrying books?”
“I’d appreciate it,” Jongin said, crinkling his nose at the thought. “They’re really heavy books.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Chanyeol said with a confident grin. He had his share of lifting heavy things, having grown up the son of restaurant owners and considering the different kind of scenes and props he had for his films. “What time and where do we meet?”
“2 at the train station?” Jongin suggested. He gave an amused smirk at Chanyeol who nodded at the information, jolting it to memory. “And it is that bad.”
“Fuck! What are these books made of?!”
Jongin laughed at Chanyeol’s reactions. The books he was talking about turned out to be poetry anthology, hardcover and second-hand from a small bookstore on the same street of the station nearest to Y University Chanyeol never noticed in the several times he walked past it.
"First time I heard you swear," Jongin pointed out.
"Really?" Chanyeol winced. "Shit."
"I told you they're heavy."
"I never knew you can have that many pages of poetry," Chanyeol groaned. "You can't have carried these back alone."
"No I couldn't have," Jongin agreed goodnaturedly. "I would have asked my roommate to help though, paying him bubble tea for making him carry books when he can be playing tongue tennis with his date."
"Your roommate too huh?" Chanyeol slumped down on the train seat, placing the book in between his legs. Never had he been more grateful to have found an empty seat in the train.
"Too?"
"It always just seem like the whole world is falling in love."
Jongin slumped back on his seat. Clumsily, ungracefully with the weight of his books hindering his movement.
"You always say such pretty things," Jongin said with amusement. "And here I thought I was the poet."
“My roommate isn’t in,” Jongin said as he let Chanyeol into the studio flat he shared with another university student around his age. The flat they stayed in didn’t seem like anything special. An area popular with students due to its price and proximity to the university, the buildings were plain, and not the classic, poetic plain.
They were just plain plain.
“Can I make you tea?”
“Can you make me coffee?”
Jongin snorted. “If you want it to taste like poison we have some instant powder.”
“You really hate coffee huh?”
“I’m really bad at making them too,” Jongin shrugged. “So tea or poison?”
“Tea,” Chanyeol accepted the verdict with a laugh.
He watched as Jongin walked to the kitchenette from the sofa bed. Mussed brown hair and dark blue shirt and an old pair of jeans. He watched as Jongin put the kettle on and watched as Jongin waited for the water to boil.
And as Jongin poured them into the colourful mugs, he found himself asking. “Why did you say no to
the dinner date?”
Jongin turned around with the mugs in his hand.
“You really always say the right thing at the right time,” Jongin said lightly.
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” Jongin said, placing the mug in front of Chanyeol. He slumped right beside Chanyeol
on the sofa bed with his own. “But you do anyway. I’m sure some people really like that, it’s very,” Jongin gestured with his hand. “Romantic drama.”
“You don’t watch movies,” Chanyeol said amused.
“Romantic drama is an old genre,” Jongin affirmed with a grin.
“Told you the whole world’s always falling in love.”
Jongin snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Just as I fucking told you.”
“Kyungsoo’s movie is premiering in December huh?” Jongin shed off his light coat on the sofa of Chanyeol’s flat.
By early October, Jongin knew his way into Chanyeol’s place without squirming at the security guard. Chanyeol knew the way to Jongin’s place without getting lost to a drunken party hosted by a couple of jocks.
By early October, Chanyeol couldn’t remember everything Jongin said or watched every single movement Jongin’s muscle made. Jongin’s laughter wasn’t a soundtrack as it was a charming background noise.
And he wasn’t sure if he loved Jongin in the same way the movies said love should be, but he liked Jongin making him tea in his own kitchen and slumping down clumsily on top of his messily thrown about coat.
He liked Jongin there well enough.
“I still don’t get it,” he complained to Zitao on the way to his new film set for the first time.
“And I’m guessing,” Zitao said, venom sapping out of his every syllable. “That this has nothing to do with the script and everything to do with Kim Jongin.”
“You get me,” Chanyeol smiled sheepishly.
“I wish I didn’t.”
“It’s not easy,” Chanyeol grumbled. He waved his script at Zitao before letting it fall to his lap. “Not like this. Not easy to get.”
“What a surprise,” Zitao said sarcastically.
“How about you and your boyfriend?” Chanyeol asked, leaning closer to Zitao. “How is it between you? How did you know you like him?”
“It just happens,” Zitao sighed, pushing Chanyeol away gently. “Concentrate on your script for today.”
He could do that, Chanyeol though. Scripts are easy and straightforward and perfectly timed.
“What is with you and this song?” he asked as he read over his script.
Jongin laughed from the kitchen, a book of poems he was studying in one hand as he waited for the water to boil for their tea. Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy played in the background and Jongin’s feet tapped along with it.
“What kind of answer are you expecting?”
“Whatever you have.” Chanyeol said.
Jongin shrugged. “There’s nothing to it, I just like it. That’s all there is.”
“Sometimes, that’s all there is huh?”
“Sometimes that’s all there is.”
Jongin placed down a mug of tea in front of Chanyeol as he agreed.
And Chanyeol laughed, his heart beats at a steady pace, missing a rhythm by just half a beat he didn’t quite notice.
As December grew closer, Kyungsoo grew grouchier. Even as they started editing as they filmed, the December deadline proved to have been too close for him and his team. Chanyeol visited them at times.
Kyungsoo chased him out most of those times, but took whatever sandwich or drinks he had to offer.
“It’s you on the poster,” Jongin pointed out in the train. “Hm, why did I never notice you’re on a lot of posters? You’re on a lot of them.”
“Come to the premiere anyway,” Chanyeol said.
The automated announcer on the train called out Jongin’s stop. Chanyeol watched as Jongin scrambled to get his bags and his coat on. The sight was familiar now, and the way Jongin wasn’t quite careful with his things something he knew for as a fact.
“Be careful of your book,” Chanyeol said
Jongin smiled brightly.
“Second time huh?”
He tucked the book under his arms.
“They say three times a charm?” Chanyeol offered.
The train door opened and Jongin laughed as he scrambled out, the sound of his laughter meld into the mechanical sounds of the train.
“It did well ‘Soo,” Chanyeol pat his best friend on the shoulder with a huge smile.
Kyungsoo smiled back. His eyes were still tired and blank, but his lips curled into one of his heart-shaped smile as well.
The critics praised the film from the premier showing. Best newcomer director, all of that and invitations to his premier were lapped up by big namers from across the country. The scene in the train and the scene in the snow was lauded as beautifully done, old themes with fresh air, all o of that.
It was romance as its finest.
“I told you back then it was great!”
Kyungsoo’s eyes bored straight into Chanyeol’s skull once more.
“And I told you that once that wasn’t the point.”
“What do you--”
Chanyeol looked to the crowd to see him. Messy brown hair, dark coloured coat and uneasy smile that didn’t quite fit in with everyone else’s.
“You came!” Chanyeol grinned as he saw Jongin in the crowd.
“I did say I might,” Jongin replied. “The movie was good, thanks for the ticket.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Snow started to fall. This time, there was no machine to make them flutter the way they did. No script to be said. There was him and Kim Jongin standing away from a crowd of people backstage.
The world was still alive, and no music played as an accompaniment.
“Let’s go for dinner,” Chanyeol said. The words didn’t come perfectly timed with his heartbeats. The words didn’t fit perfectly well with the snow.
Jongin brushed the snow out of his hair with an awkward smile.
“I would like that.”
No one yelled cut.
The snow didn’t stop.
Title: The World Is Falling In Love
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Kai
Rating: G
Length: 6.6k
Summary: Actor Park Chanyeol had everything he needed for his life to be a perfect romantic comedy. Except the co-star he has in mind isn't quite following his script.
Author's note: Hello prompter! I may... have taken your prompt a little too literally, but I hope you'd enjoy this anyway!
"Of course I believe in love," Chanyeol spoke, his voice somber, his eyes fixed on his partner's eyes. "How can I not? With what we've been through? And yet here you are, standing in front of me?"
With the snow continuing to fall gently, he closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss his partner.
-- Cut!
The snow, artificial as it was, considering it was a warm mid-August evening, stopped falling.
Chanyeol opened his eyes and let go of his co-star's hand. He gave her a huge grin.
"Good work today," he said with a polite bow.
"Good work today," she replied with a shy smile and her own polite bow.
She just debuted last year, a rising star, and all the tabloids and netizens said this romantic drama with veteran romantic actor Park Chanyeol was sure to give her the big break she deserved.
Chanyeol himself had a pretty good feeling about this movie. He never expected his best friend Do Kyungsoo's directorial debut to be a romantic drama, considering how Kyungsoo was, but that was what the production wanted. In the end, Kyungsoo's style and ideas inspired by American and European award-winning films worked to give the genre a fresh twist.
At least in Chanyeol's opinion.
And he believed his opinion to be pretty informed too. This was far from his first romance movie. In fact, in his seven years experience as a professional actor, most of his roles had been for romance movies.
Not that he minded. He always had liked romance, with their loving lines and optimistic storylines.
"Good work today," Kyungsoo echoed. He had been bowing down to every staff member and actor repeating the same phrase again and again at the end of every filming session that the words spilled out of him like it was reflex.
"You too," Chanyeol gave his best friend a playful punch on the shoulder. "Almost done huh?"
"Yeah," Kyungsoo said with a wary smile. "Just the train scene left. And maybe we should redo--"
"Just the train scene left," Chanyeol emphasised. "Stop being such a perfectionist 'Soo."
"Is the train scene even a good idea," Kyungsoo fretted. "I'm having second thoughts."
"It's a great idea," Chanyeol assured. He had read the revised script where his character met his eventual lover on the metro rail. It was perfect, as trains became a repeating image in every other scene even if there're no other scenes on an actual train beside that and the very end. "I swear I'm not saying this 'cause you're my best friend. I'm saying it cause it's good."
Kyungsoo sighed and looked up at Chanyeol with wary eyes. "You should go home."
"And you should too."
Chanyeol gave a reassuring grip on Kyungsoo's shoulder before being waved away. He considered briefly about inviting Kyungsoo for a drink, but he knew that wasn't what Kyungsoo needed.
"Seriously 'Soo, go home and sleep.”
Kyungsoo nodded weakly and moved to pack his bags at the trailers, waving Chanyeol goodbye with a final murmur of "good work today."
It was then that Zitao appeared.
Timely as usual.
Zitao was the kind of manager that shouldn't exist. He was always timely, always knew the latest trends and fashion, always available when needed and still looked fabulous to his six hundred thousand Instagram followers.
Chanyeol was glad Zitao was his manager, even if the younger boy had a tendency to judge everything Chanyeol wore and some things he did and was never scared of showing his judgement.
"Your cab is here," Zitao said curtly. He had been up with Chanyeol since morning. He extended his hands to take Chanyeol's costume, the coat and scarf that had been killing him all day with how hot it was.
"I'm not taking a cab though," Chanyeol said.
Zitao raised his eyebrow. There it was. The Zitao Judgement. He spoke politely, but it was a sort of polite condescension.
"Then pray tell, how are you planning on getting home, Mister Park?"
"Train? One of the sales pitch of my apartment is the nearby train station isn't it?"
"And why would you do that?" Zitao rubbed his temples.
"Kyungsoo's train scene gave me an idea," Chanyeol shrugged. "Maybe I'll meet that someone special on the train."
"You'd be mobbed by fangirls," Zitao said and took a deep breath. "You want that? And you have a direct train yes, but it's an hour and a half away."
"It's not that bad, it's pretty late now," Chanyeol said. "And it's not like I'm in a rush to get home."
"You have to be on set by six tomorrow!" Zitao grumbled. "You'll be on a train all day tomorrow anyway!"
"Go use the cab Zitao," Chanyeol patted his assistant on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't hold you liable if something happens."
Zitao sighed annoyed. Sure, Zitao was stubborn, but Chanyeol was just as bad.
And Chanyeol was the one who handed out the paycheck between them.
The truth was that Chanyeol was realistic enough not to meet the love of his life on the train. He hoped he would meet the love of his life on the train.
He hoped he would meet the love of his life just about anywhere, but being famous since seventeen made that a little difficult.
He didn't really want to have a relationship with one of his coworkers not because he didn't like them, but because he didn't quite feel a spark for any of them.
And it was difficult meeting someone who didn't really know him. 'Can I have your autograph?' Isn't exactly a perfect romcom spark inducing first line.
But he didn’t exactly want to go home either.
His home was a large flat, beautiful city view and all of those signs that screamed he made it somehow.
But home was also an empty flat that also reminded him he’s still missing something.
Someone.
Chanyeol sighed as he leaned back on his seat on the train. Kyungsoo had chosen a good filming location, but it was pretty out of the way. Considering how late it was it was no surprise then, even after a few stops only a few other people piled in.
An asleep, ragged looking man, a tired old lady, and then after a couple of stops a family whose preteen daughter waved at him.
He waved back. One didn’t get to be national favourite without being nice to his fans.
Another few stops and people about his age filled in the train. He glanced out at the signboard to see it was a university stop.
That explained it. The students looked far too tired to even look up, many of them slumping into the seats or leaning on the available support poles.
The young man who sat next to Chanyeol was one of them.
Chanyeol almost did not register him at all.
And then he heard that.
The boy's headphones was blasting loud music throughout the entire ride, but then it got louder and Chanyeol was able to recognise this song.
Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy.
Who the fuck listened to Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy on an eleven PM train?
But before he could take a proper look at the boy, the train came to a half and the boy clumsily scrambled up.
Chanyeol hadn’t noticed exactly how many stops it had been and how comfortable the boy had made himself in his seat till he watched as the boy rushed to stuff his earphones into his pocket and pick up his multiple bags, moving quickly and clumsily all while watching the train door anxiously.
He made it out just in time, lithe body and pretty figure scrambling out without care.
That would have been a good start to his story, Chanyeol thought to himself as he watched the door close behind the boy. I met my true love because he listened to Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy on a near-midnight train. Cute and romantic and that little bit of classy yet not too classy it would alienate the audience.
He sighed. There were only a few people left on the train now, and the seat beside him remained empty. He glanced at it and thought of what could have been --
Wait.
Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at the book that was left on the seat where his perhaps true love had been. The book was a standard issue, cheap looking notebook, thin and paperback, with a dark blue cover and the university emblem on the middle of it. It looked worn and well-used, more so than the typical university notebook.
Out of curiosity, he picked it up and flicked through it.
And his eyes widened as he realised what it was. His lips formed a smile.
A book of poetry, some print-outs and photocopies, annotated by the owner. Some seemed to be hand-written, although of those, most were annotated.
Chanyeol had never seen so many pretty words in one standard issue notebook.
He flipped to the first page of the book, careful so it wouldn’t fall apart, and found a sticker label tacked on to the inside cover:
PROPERTY OF KIM JONGIN
IF FOUND PLEASE CALL:
A phone number.
But more importantly, a name. Kim Jongin.
Chanyeol’s smile grew into a grin.
This was his story.
As soon as he got home he called the number on the cover. He deliberated telling Zitao about it first, but he would imagine Zitao being either grouchy because he woke him up or grouchy because he ruined his perfect selfie angle for his Instagram good night. On top of that, Zitao would probably tell him to let the agency deal with returning the notebook alongside a special celebrity note that would go viral if the owner posted it on twitter or something.
That wasn’t what Chanyeol want. He didn’t need any more of fame.
He also considered that perhaps Jongin was already asleep.
Still, he reasoned if Jongin was, he could just call again tomorrow.
The phone was picked up within three rings.
“Hello?” A deep male voice greeted him.
“Hello sorry for calling so late, is, er - Kim Jongin there?”
Chanyeol worried that he had gotten the number wrong, but he liked this. He liked saying Kim Jongin’s name.
“Oh - hold on for a second.”
He could hear the man call out Jongin’s name and walk away. A minute later another voice picked up.
“Hello?”
The voice sounded frazzled. Deep in its own way. Not exactly what Chanyeol imagined the boy who scrambled out of the train’s voice to have sounded like, even if his only experience with Jongin prior to this was that little gap of time on the train, on which they were supposed to be nowhere.
“Hi, Jongin? I found your notebook--”
“-- You did?” Jongin asked. Jongin laughed and suddenly he did fit into Chanyeol’s imagined story on his way from the train, relived. “Seriously? And you called? I mean -- Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Chanyeol smiled, even if Jongin couldn’t see him smile, he hoped Jongin saw it somehow. He had been told to have a great smile. “Did I wake you?”
“Wake-- oh no, no,” Jongin laughed again, this time sounding embarrassed. “I was... looking for the notebook, so thank you. Really.”
“You go to Y University? I’ll pass it to you at the campus tomorrow?”
“Oh -- yeah. Yeah, if it doesn’t trouble you.”
“I have work nearby and can go there for lunch,” he said. That was true. While they expect to be shooting for the whole day tomorrow, he would definitely at least have an hour off.
“I’ll give you my Kakao ID?” Jongin offered.
Chanyeol took a pen and small sticky notes he kept on his bedside table. Usually, he use them to keep note of his script.
This time he’s using it to move forward a romantic story of his own.
He woke up to apologetic and thankful stickers from Jongin on his KKT. He replied with stickers back, happy, animated ones, before messaging Jongin a ‘see you later’.
Jongin replied with a ‘see you!’ when he was already in the cab with Zitao.
Again, his lips curled into a wide smile.
“What are you smiling about?” Zitao asked, annoyed. Chanyeol realised Zitao was briefing him over the make up and shooting schedule - they were routine, of course, they have worked on this set for months and being Kyungsoo’s best friend Chanyeol knew the script and Kyungsoo’s processes very well, but Zitao always briefed and Chanyeol should really always listen.
“Nothing,” Chanyeol said as he put away his phone. But his smile only grew wider and he turned to Zitao with a full-on grin. “I’ve a lunch date.”
The way Zitao’s eyes widened would be an animator’s dream reference shot.
“It’s a boy I met on the train,” Chanyeol said smugly. “He goes to Y University.”
“Y University,” Zitao muttered as he rubbed his temples. “He’s not a fresh high school graduate kid, is he?”
“No, no, of course not!” Chanyeol paused. He didn’t know much about Jongin. Hardly even caught a glimpse of him except for his figure and bodyline. “I think not anyway.”
“You think not, Mr. Park?”
“It’s just a lunch date,” Chanyeol assured. “No big deal. And we’re filming near Y University anyway.”
Zitao sent him a glare. “I advise against this.”
“I’m not listening to your advice this time,” Chanyeol said cheerfully, the thought of meeting Jongin again in his mind.
Zitao rolled his eyes.
“When do you ever, anyway?”
“You acted really well today,” Kyungsoo said at eleven, as they took a break. “Like you get the whole mood of it.”
“Are you saying I don’t normally?” Chanyeol joked.
“Usually you’re a seventy, maybe eighty at best,” Kyungsoo said plainly. Chanyeol winced a little, but he was no longer surprised by Kyungsoo’s bluntness and criticism regarding his abilities or just about anything. “Today you’re a solid eighty-five. Ninety maybe.”
“Wow, that’s high praise from you.”
“It is,” Kyungsoo stated matter-of-factly. He stared at Chanyeol with an unreadable expression for a while before he spoke. “Did something good happen to you?”
As expected of his best friend.
“Well I met the one,” Chanyeol said with a grin.
Kyungsoo had his own judgemental face. It was different from Zitao’s. Much less exaggerated. Much more intimidating.
“The last time you said that you chased around a Chinese food delivery boy.”
“Yes,” Chanyeol admitted, spirit unfaltering. “But this is different. I’m more mature now. Older --”
“By seven months,” Kyungsoo interrupted.
“Why are you even directing a romantic drama?”
Kyungsoo shrugged. “My romantic drama doesn’t have a well known actor chasing around a nineteen year old Chinese takeaway part-timer like a lost dog..”
"Okay, we all make mistakes," Chanyeol sighed. "But I'm sure this isn't one."
Kyungsoo rolled his eyes in disbelief.
He promised to meet Jongin in one of those cafés students apparently frequent.
Not that he knew that personally. Chanyeol had never gone to Y University. Y University was for people who was actually good at studying from books. Chanyeol was never good with books.
But he had heard of this café before, as he had been to this area for a variety show once. One of those hangout thing and the café was introduced on the show as a great place for young people, including Chanyeol and his crew.
He had been there all of once.
Though as he entered the café he didn't have time he realised he didn't know how Jongin really looked like. He knew Jongin's bodyline. He knew Jongin's voice.
He knows the kind of poetry Jongin liked and loved the kind of poetry Jongin liked but he didn't know how Jongin's face looked.
Dark red T-shirt and a dark blue pair of jeans.
That was how Jongin described himself on KKT.
But that wasn't how Chanyeol ended up recognising Jongin.
He recognised Jongin by the way Jongin walked, his heavy messenger bag swung over one shoulder and his body seemingly in a bit of a graceful tumble, seeming clumsy yet in the same time managing to keep his drink and sandwich in his tray.
Jongin was sitting down on a table for two, easily visible from where Chanyeol was standing near the door.
A table for two. Chanyeol felt his heart skip a beat when he realised it'd just be him and Jongin.
And Jongin was --
Jongin was not exactly superstar good looking. He had that ordinary sort of pleasantness, messy dark brown hair, cheap looking t-shirt and an expression that was a mix of slightly confused and really sleepy.
Jongin was not what Chanyeol imagined, not quite.
Yet Jongin was somehow better for him.
He put up his best smile as he walked over, ignoring some of the looks others were giving him.
"Jongin?" He made sure to ask as he stood over Jongin.
Jongin instinctively looked up and the percentage of slightly confused on his expression mix.
"Chanyeol?" He asked.
Exactly the voice Chanyeol wanted to hear.
"Hi," Chanyeol greeted with a wide grin. "Can I sit down?"
"Of course," Jongin quickly said. He glanced around the café to see all the eyes on them. It was then that he sunk back into his seat, looking even more confused. He looked straight
into Chanyeol's eyes as he asked. "Are you famous or something?"
Well that's new, Chanyeol thought.
Pleased.
Jongin offered him sandwich and coffee, a treat for returning his book. But Chanyeol found he didn't really need sandwich and coffee, not with how Jongin's eye lit up when he saw the book, flipping through it and skimming through his poetry.
Still, Jongin insisted.
"So," Jongin said as he placed a tray with chicken and bacon sandwich and a sugary latte in front of Chanyeol. "How are you famous?"
"You don't know?"
Jongin masked his embarrassment with a smile, but Chanyeol noticed how his cheeks turned a little pink.
"I'm not good with famous people's faces," Jongin said, and after a short pause, he added an extra note "or names, if you're born after 1990. Usually."
"Why not make a guess?"
"Hmm," Jongin frowned as he concentrated his thought, his eyes staring straight into Chanyeol's. "I might have seen you before. You're not one of those people who are famous for eating on YouTube right? My roommate's really into that so if you are then..."
"I'm not," Chanyeol said. "You want to try again?"
"Instagram star?"
"You're just guessing things your roommate's into now aren't you?"
Jongin answered Chanyeol's amused grin with a large smile of his own. "Is it that obvious?"
"What do you do anyway?" Chanyeol asked, curious. It wasn't that he thought everyone should know him - but for better or worse he hardly ever met someone Jongin's age who didn't know who he was.
"I'm doing my Masters," Jongin said. "Literature. Poetry in particular," he paused. "Should I continue guessing?"
"If you want," Chanyeol said. "Though I prefer it if you do."
Jongin laughed, his eyes bent along with his voice. "I'd never get it. Give me a hint, what's your job?"
"That would give you the why."
"So that means you're," Jongin paused, leaned in a little closer and stared a little more. "A singer?"
"Sometimes, I wish I am," Chanyeol said. He really did. That was what he thought he would be famous for if anything when he was a little kid. That or vigilante superhero astronaut. "I'm an actor."
"Oh," Jongin nodded as he processed this information. "No wonder then."
"You're part of camp the book is better than the movie huh?" Chanyeol joked.
"Of course I am," Jongin said plainly with that wide smile Chanyeol was growing fond of, a little too quickly.
Jongin walked him back to the set, saying that his classes were done for the day, and although he should really get home to start on a presentation, he could spare twenty minutes to walk with Chanyeol to the set train they were filming at.
"I'm not going through that though," Jongin said as he abruptly stopped, a distance away from the crowd of students that flocked around the set.
"Don't blame you," Chanyeol said. He looked at Jongin again. The boy was checking his messenger bag, just to make sure he had everything with him this time.
Turned out that losing things were not completely uncommon for Jongin. Earlier, Chanyeol had to remind him to take his bag on the way out from the café.
"Good luck--" Jongin said with his eyes fixed on the crowd. He paused to think.. "Am I supposed to say break a leg?"
"I'll take both," Chanyeol smiled back.
Jongin's eyes were on him now.
A perfect romcom moment.
"Can I see you again?"
Chanyeol blurted out, ruining it.
Jongin blinked in confusion. "I'm a nobody."
And that's back to a romcom, Chanyeol thought, his heart pacing a bit faster and his smile felt like it could get wider except he was scared that he would scare Jongin because Zitao did say that his smile could have a little too many teeth.
"I want to see you again," he said firmly. "Can I?"
Jongin shrugged. Jongin returned Chanyeol's smile.
"You have my number."
"It wasn't a mistake," Chanyeol told Kyungsoo proudly as he returned on to the set.
Kyungsoo's large, dark eyes bore into him with disinterest.
"Good for you," he said. "Go get changed."
That was definitely a positive response as far as Kyungsoo was involved, Chanyeol believed.
“So this isn't like the Chinese delivery boy incident?” Zitao asked, disbelieving. He delivered Chanyeol's next script at night, because writers were writers regardless of whether they write fanfictions of him or his next script and tended to not finish till as late as humanly possible.
The script wasn't due for filming for another couple of months, at least, so he had plenty of time to practise while still talking to Jongin.
“I'm insulted,” Chanyeol sighed. “This is completely different.”
“You liked a stranger and chased them around?”
“I met my true love and pursued it,” Chanyeol corrected.
Zitao rolled his eyes.
“I don't see the difference.”
“There's poetry involved here,” Chanyeol grinned as he flipped open the script with a grand gesture. Yet another romcom. Another, cute, fluffy, romcom with a pretty flower name for a title.
Chanyeol's grin widened.
“Literal poetry.”
Zitao crinkled his nose.
“I need a new job.”
“Shouldn't you be busier?” Jongin asked.
They met again soon after, late in the afternoon when Chanyeol sat across Jongin at the same café, Jongin with undergrad papers he apparently had to grade as part of his part time job as a TA.
He was a TA. One of those jobs where adding cute in front of it would make the person a school dreamboat of sorts.
At least, according to the scripts Chanyeol read. The script Chanyeol was currently reading, in fact, had exactly that character.
“I just finished filming,” Chanyeol said. “Practising a new script now.”
“Not too busy?” Jongin asked as he brushed his hand past his fringe to brush them back, letting him look straight to Chanyeol. Chanyeol shook his head, and Jongin replied with a tired smile. “That's nice.”
“Grading is no fun?”
“I know I should be more appreciative of the younger generations,” Jongin said quickly. There was a 'but' on the tip of his tongue that he was careful to not let spill.
“But?”
“Don't be a bad influence,” Jongin said jokingly.
“They didn't have spellcheck enabled huh?”
“No spellcheck, plenty of autocorrects,” Jongin nodded as he said quietly, the red pen twirling in his fingers. “Anyway, even if you're free, it can't be fun watching me grade papers.”
Chanyeol shrugged. “Plenty of fun to me.”
The background noise of the café couldn't drown out Jongin's embarrassed laugh. It fitted well with it instead, like the appropriate soundtrack of a movie.
His character in the script met the girl at a café not unlike his and Jongin's. She didn't know who he was. She should, she really should, for his face was on the TV that was playing right behind her and his voice was singing a soulful ballad.
She smiled shyly and he was in love.
He laughed and she was in love.
The music played, a soft soundtrack, the notes said, not yet completed.
He asked her for dinner and she said yes.
The next couple of weeks was a whirlwind of meetings and rehearsals and Jongin. Chanyeol remembered his lines, Chanyeol remembered the faces he had to and the contracts he signed. He remembered Zitao's complaints and Zitao's eyes rolling.
But more than anything Chanyeol remembered everything Jongin did.
From the smiles and the way Jongin's hand moved across the paper with his grading pencil and the way Jongin liked his tea.
Jongin replied with words that sounded nice but nicer in his voice and Chanyeol imagined this voice as he read each text from Jongin.
Everything was perfectly aligned and Chanyeol was smittened. Chanyeol was in love. That noted incomplete soundtrack on his script sounded in his head, like the jazz of the café that became his world with Jongin.
“I want to ask you out for dinner,” Chanyeol said. Chanyeol followed his script. “I want to take you out on a dinner date.”
“He said no!” Chanyeol found himself complaining to Zitao as they were practising the script, arms thrown up in exasperation and confusion as he repeated himself again for emphasis. “He said no!”
“Okay, that is not in the script,” Zitao said, but despite the faux-annoyance in his tone, the edges of his lips curled into a little restrained smirk. “So this is like the Chinese delivery boy incident?”
“No!” Chanyeol ruffled his hair, dumping his script on the coffee table. “It's nothing like that - it's nothing like that right?”
Zitao's shrug was not reassuring enough. Chanyeol found himself groaning as he slumped down on his couch.
“It was so perfect,” he whined. “It is so perfect. We're still friends and -”
“Oh I know,” Zitao said. “And you're meeting him for coffee anyway and his laugh still sound like magic and all of that.”
Chanyeol's eyes widened. “How? I mean you're not there - you haven't met --”
“Sure,” Zitao interrupted. The smirk on his face no longer tried to hide and turned smug and knowing. “But I know you.”
“What am I doing wrong?” Chanyeol groaned again.
“You'll see,” Zitao said. “Maybe.”
“You still want to be here?” Jongin asked the next time. The tea he was drinking from the café's white cups was a familiar scent by now, plain, but somewhat pleasant. Chanyeol didn't hate it. “I'm not doing anything interesting.”
Jongin had his ring binder on his lap, his notes holepunched in, highlighted with stick tabs stuck on to the top of the pages, seemingly without order to Chanyeol.
“Am I not allowed to be here?”
“Didn't say that,” Jongin said. He paused to to think. “You know, you always talk so well.”
“I'm an actor,” Chanyeol said.
“I know,” Jongin replied.
He had gotten used to walking home with Jongin.
Throughout their walk to the train station, they talked about nothing in particular, words filling silence as it should. When they stood in the train, they let silent fall between them, the noise of the engines moving through the tunnel drowning out any possible conversations that could be.
Jongin said a bye quietly with a smile when he got to his station.
Chanyeol realised, when he got home, he couldn't quite remember much. Not the way that Jongin twirled his highlighter. Not the exact way that Jongin smiled even though he knew that Jongin did. Not the things they talked about or the exact tone of Jongin's voice although he knew they talked.
He remembered Jongin being there, as he was.
“Does that mean I got old?”
Kyungsoo didn't appreciate Chanyeol bugging him when he was working, but Zitao happened to have a day off to go on a date and refused to answer Chanyeol's call unless they were emergencies.
His failing memory was apparently not one of those emergencies.
That left Chanyeol with Kyungsoo. Best friend. Extremely busy best friend who was looking at screens with Chanyeol's face saying those perfect, memorable lines with perfect expressions to match his co-star. The music had been edited on, and it all seemed right.
Like love had to be.
“I don't get your concern,” Kyungsoo said, his annoyed tone matching the black circles under his eyes. “What's wrong with not remembering every detail?”
“Well if it's love,” Chanyeol gestured to the screens where his recorded self was confessing his love to the person he was meant to be. “Isn't it supposed to be like that?”
Kyungsoo hummed. His eyes not leaving the screen. “Do you really think so?” he asked quietly.
“Your movie is great, 'Soo,” Chanyeol assured again, holding Kyungsoo's hand in his in reassurance.
Kyungsoo turned to him and stared, large round eyes boring straight into Chanyeol's skull.
“That's not the point, though,” he pointed out.
“Maybe we're just friends,” Chanyeol mused out loud to Jongin.
Surely, Jongin fit all the characteristics of a friend. He was comfortable enough with him to talk to him and call him to chat when he had only a towel around his waist. He liked him enough to visit him regularly at the same café as Jongin sat with papers of poetry and essays, even if he couldn't remember every detail of Jongin to create that kind of romcom magic anymore.
Maybe, Jongin wasn't the one.
“Just friends, huh?” Jongin repeated.
“I mean, these are friends thing?”
“Sure,” Jongin bit on to the cap of his highlighter as he took a quick glimpse at his note. "Is that a bad thing?"
"It's just," Chanyeol paused. He wasn't quite sure how could he say this. He wasn't quite sure exactly what Jongin knew. "I liked you."
"Not anymore huh?" Jongin teased.
"It's not that," Chanyeol said. Jongin's hand had paused with the highlighter perfectly still between his fingers, his notes pressed underneath his arms as he leaned in to face Chanyeol.
That gave Chanyeol a small stage fright the way cameras hadn't. Not in years.
"It's different," he said slowly and carefully. "I guess -- I like you different now."
"Is that bad?"
Chanyeol let his eyes rest on Jongin. He let his eyes rest on how Jongin smiled.
His answer spilled without him thinking, quiet and natural and as it should be.
"It's not."
"Can't I at least ask you out somewhere else?" Chanyeol asked.
Jongin paused to think over his answer. “Do you want to help me carry books?”
Chanyeol tilted his head. “Do you need my help carrying books?”
“I’d appreciate it,” Jongin said, crinkling his nose at the thought. “They’re really heavy books.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Chanyeol said with a confident grin. He had his share of lifting heavy things, having grown up the son of restaurant owners and considering the different kind of scenes and props he had for his films. “What time and where do we meet?”
“2 at the train station?” Jongin suggested. He gave an amused smirk at Chanyeol who nodded at the information, jolting it to memory. “And it is that bad.”
“Fuck! What are these books made of?!”
Jongin laughed at Chanyeol’s reactions. The books he was talking about turned out to be poetry anthology, hardcover and second-hand from a small bookstore on the same street of the station nearest to Y University Chanyeol never noticed in the several times he walked past it.
"First time I heard you swear," Jongin pointed out.
"Really?" Chanyeol winced. "Shit."
"I told you they're heavy."
"I never knew you can have that many pages of poetry," Chanyeol groaned. "You can't have carried these back alone."
"No I couldn't have," Jongin agreed goodnaturedly. "I would have asked my roommate to help though, paying him bubble tea for making him carry books when he can be playing tongue tennis with his date."
"Your roommate too huh?" Chanyeol slumped down on the train seat, placing the book in between his legs. Never had he been more grateful to have found an empty seat in the train.
"Too?"
"It always just seem like the whole world is falling in love."
Jongin slumped back on his seat. Clumsily, ungracefully with the weight of his books hindering his movement.
"You always say such pretty things," Jongin said with amusement. "And here I thought I was the poet."
“My roommate isn’t in,” Jongin said as he let Chanyeol into the studio flat he shared with another university student around his age. The flat they stayed in didn’t seem like anything special. An area popular with students due to its price and proximity to the university, the buildings were plain, and not the classic, poetic plain.
They were just plain plain.
“Can I make you tea?”
“Can you make me coffee?”
Jongin snorted. “If you want it to taste like poison we have some instant powder.”
“You really hate coffee huh?”
“I’m really bad at making them too,” Jongin shrugged. “So tea or poison?”
“Tea,” Chanyeol accepted the verdict with a laugh.
He watched as Jongin walked to the kitchenette from the sofa bed. Mussed brown hair and dark blue shirt and an old pair of jeans. He watched as Jongin put the kettle on and watched as Jongin waited for the water to boil.
And as Jongin poured them into the colourful mugs, he found himself asking. “Why did you say no to
the dinner date?”
Jongin turned around with the mugs in his hand.
“You really always say the right thing at the right time,” Jongin said lightly.
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” Jongin said, placing the mug in front of Chanyeol. He slumped right beside Chanyeol
on the sofa bed with his own. “But you do anyway. I’m sure some people really like that, it’s very,” Jongin gestured with his hand. “Romantic drama.”
“You don’t watch movies,” Chanyeol said amused.
“Romantic drama is an old genre,” Jongin affirmed with a grin.
“Told you the whole world’s always falling in love.”
Jongin snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Just as I fucking told you.”
“Kyungsoo’s movie is premiering in December huh?” Jongin shed off his light coat on the sofa of Chanyeol’s flat.
By early October, Jongin knew his way into Chanyeol’s place without squirming at the security guard. Chanyeol knew the way to Jongin’s place without getting lost to a drunken party hosted by a couple of jocks.
By early October, Chanyeol couldn’t remember everything Jongin said or watched every single movement Jongin’s muscle made. Jongin’s laughter wasn’t a soundtrack as it was a charming background noise.
And he wasn’t sure if he loved Jongin in the same way the movies said love should be, but he liked Jongin making him tea in his own kitchen and slumping down clumsily on top of his messily thrown about coat.
He liked Jongin there well enough.
“I still don’t get it,” he complained to Zitao on the way to his new film set for the first time.
“And I’m guessing,” Zitao said, venom sapping out of his every syllable. “That this has nothing to do with the script and everything to do with Kim Jongin.”
“You get me,” Chanyeol smiled sheepishly.
“I wish I didn’t.”
“It’s not easy,” Chanyeol grumbled. He waved his script at Zitao before letting it fall to his lap. “Not like this. Not easy to get.”
“What a surprise,” Zitao said sarcastically.
“How about you and your boyfriend?” Chanyeol asked, leaning closer to Zitao. “How is it between you? How did you know you like him?”
“It just happens,” Zitao sighed, pushing Chanyeol away gently. “Concentrate on your script for today.”
He could do that, Chanyeol though. Scripts are easy and straightforward and perfectly timed.
“What is with you and this song?” he asked as he read over his script.
Jongin laughed from the kitchen, a book of poems he was studying in one hand as he waited for the water to boil for their tea. Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy played in the background and Jongin’s feet tapped along with it.
“What kind of answer are you expecting?”
“Whatever you have.” Chanyeol said.
Jongin shrugged. “There’s nothing to it, I just like it. That’s all there is.”
“Sometimes, that’s all there is huh?”
“Sometimes that’s all there is.”
Jongin placed down a mug of tea in front of Chanyeol as he agreed.
And Chanyeol laughed, his heart beats at a steady pace, missing a rhythm by just half a beat he didn’t quite notice.
As December grew closer, Kyungsoo grew grouchier. Even as they started editing as they filmed, the December deadline proved to have been too close for him and his team. Chanyeol visited them at times.
Kyungsoo chased him out most of those times, but took whatever sandwich or drinks he had to offer.
“It’s you on the poster,” Jongin pointed out in the train. “Hm, why did I never notice you’re on a lot of posters? You’re on a lot of them.”
“Come to the premiere anyway,” Chanyeol said.
The automated announcer on the train called out Jongin’s stop. Chanyeol watched as Jongin scrambled to get his bags and his coat on. The sight was familiar now, and the way Jongin wasn’t quite careful with his things something he knew for as a fact.
“Be careful of your book,” Chanyeol said
Jongin smiled brightly.
“Second time huh?”
He tucked the book under his arms.
“They say three times a charm?” Chanyeol offered.
The train door opened and Jongin laughed as he scrambled out, the sound of his laughter meld into the mechanical sounds of the train.
“It did well ‘Soo,” Chanyeol pat his best friend on the shoulder with a huge smile.
Kyungsoo smiled back. His eyes were still tired and blank, but his lips curled into one of his heart-shaped smile as well.
The critics praised the film from the premier showing. Best newcomer director, all of that and invitations to his premier were lapped up by big namers from across the country. The scene in the train and the scene in the snow was lauded as beautifully done, old themes with fresh air, all o of that.
It was romance as its finest.
“I told you back then it was great!”
Kyungsoo’s eyes bored straight into Chanyeol’s skull once more.
“And I told you that once that wasn’t the point.”
“What do you--”
Chanyeol looked to the crowd to see him. Messy brown hair, dark coloured coat and uneasy smile that didn’t quite fit in with everyone else’s.
“You came!” Chanyeol grinned as he saw Jongin in the crowd.
“I did say I might,” Jongin replied. “The movie was good, thanks for the ticket.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Snow started to fall. This time, there was no machine to make them flutter the way they did. No script to be said. There was him and Kim Jongin standing away from a crowd of people backstage.
The world was still alive, and no music played as an accompaniment.
“Let’s go for dinner,” Chanyeol said. The words didn’t come perfectly timed with his heartbeats. The words didn’t fit perfectly well with the snow.
Jongin brushed the snow out of his hair with an awkward smile.
“I would like that.”
No one yelled cut.
The snow didn’t stop.