Chapter Text
“Go for the high notes!”
Jihoon shook his head rapidly, shoving away the phone that Amy was pushing closer and closer towards his face. At his disgruntled expression, she let out a loud laugh.
“Come on Jihoon-ah, it’s not that high,” she said. “You can do it!"
“You do it.”
“I did it twice!” she exclaimed, though she was already retracting her phone, the third chorus of Beyoncé’s Halo fast approaching. “You should go for the last one.”
They were sitting alone on the floor of one of the practice rooms in the basement of the Pledis Entertainment building, the overhead fluorescents feeling a little too bright, half the walls of the room mirrored and the other half a slightly unnerving shade of green. It was Friday night and practice had ended, but instead of going home to sleep, Jihoon was hanging out with Amy.
They should probably just get up and go home anyway, though; they weren’t being productive anymore, simply listening to and singing along with the Beyoncé discography that was blasting with questionable quality through Amy’s cell phone speakers, both of them giggly with exhaustion. Jihoon was tired because he was only fourteen on an international scale, trying to go to school and train to be an idol at the same time. Amy was tired because it was late August, and she was working hard seven days a week, slated to debut with YMC Entertainment as the solo artist Ailee at the beginning of next year.
The Beyoncé was Amy’s fault; she listened to her all the time. Jihoon knowing most of the words to the title tracks well enough to sing along was Amy’s fault, too. He knew that they were unlikely friends—he was in middle school, and she was old enough to drink in every country—and that she saw him more as a little brother than a fellow peer and trainee. That was okay, because he knew he wasn’t on her level anyway, her singing voice amazing him every time she opened her mouth.
He was grateful for her companionship, though. He was quiet and reclusive, and she’d seen that, and she’d prodded and poked at him, had greeted him and talked at him until a conversation had started. She’d shot him down when he’d tried to call her Yejin, insisting that she was Amy Lee, that she grew up in New Jersey, and he thought he’d offended her. But she’d smiled at him the next morning, and the morning after that, and it took him about a week to realize that she was checking in on him daily. She was a strange mixture of a sister and a friend, and one of the best things in his life upon moving alone from Busan to Seoul.
Despite insisting he wouldn’t, he went for the high notes anyway. It was hard to say, between his slumped posture and the onset of puberty, which factor contributed more when his voice cracked horribly. Amy let out a shout of laughter, the two of them collapsing onto the floor in a pile of giggles.
“Oh my god,” she wheezed after nearly a minute of fighting to get her breath back. The English phrase was one Jihoon recognized easily and he fell into laughter again, rolling from his back to his side, his cheek pressed into the wooden floor. He knew that the floor was gross, and that he probably shouldn’t put his face on it, but he was too tired to care. Plus, last week he’d seen Minhyun pick up half of a piece of kimbap he’d dropped and eat it and he hadn’t gotten sick, so it was probably okay. “Seriously, that was amazing.”
“I told you that you should do it instead,” he said, and she nudged him with her foot.
“Oh, don’t be like that. I’m sure you could hit those notes on a normal day.” She was grinning at him. “Your voice is good, Jihoon-ah. You’re getting better.”
“Whatever.” As he was wont to do with compliments, Jihoon felt himself blush, the tips of his ears going warm. She noticed it too, reaching over to the ear closest to her and giving it a tug, making him yelp and sit up.
“Don’t ‘whatever’ me!” She tugged again, and he hit at her arm. “I’m serious!”
“Yeah, okay.”
His self-deprecating tone had her rolling her eyes, releasing him. “Okay, whatever. Don’t pretend you don’t like compliments. You always blush when I tell you nice things.” Her voice went airy, and she glanced away from him, lifting her chin. “Probably because you have such a huge crush on me.”
If he’d been drinking water, he would have spit it out. He knew she was teasing, knew she wasn’t being serious, but he was a teenage boy, and couldn’t help the denials that sprang from his mouth, all of them frantic.
“I—I don’t—no.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t. I don’t. I would never have a crush on you.”
“Ouch, never? Really?” She crossed her arms. “That hurts, Jihoon-ah. I’m not going to be fat forever, you know.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like…” The beginnings of panic were starting to curl in his chest, worried that he’d taken it a little too far. “It’s just… It’s not like that. I have a crush on someone else, that’s all.”
“Oh?” That had her perking up immediately. “Who?”
He struggled himself back into an upright sitting position, avoiding her eyes. She noticed, her voice a bit more serious now.
“Come on, you can tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”
He shook his head, but he could tell by the glint in her eye that she wasn’t going to let this go easily. If he seriously told her to stop then she would, but she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him, either.
“We could play twenty questions! I’ll guess. Yes or no answers only, okay?”
He didn’t want to tell her who he liked. He didn’t want to tell anyone. At the same time, though, it was late, and he was exhausted, and maybe… Maybe he kind of did want someone— someone —to know. Maybe he was tired of holding onto this secret. There had to be some explanation for him not outright refusing the idea.
“Just ten,” he said instead.
“Ten questions? How am I supposed to get it in just ten questions?”
He just looked back at her and she sighed, holding up ten fingers.
“Fine. If I don’t guess it, it can stay your secret. But you have to be honest with your answers, okay?”
“I’m not going to lie to you,” he told her. She scrutinized him for nearly a full minute before nodding.
“Okay. Question one.” She grinned. “It’s me, right?”
“What? No.”
His answer was immediate, and she laughed, and that made him laugh too.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” She put a finger down. “Okay. Is it someone you go to school with?”
That was a good question. It narrowed down the pool of guesses to either people she didn’t know, and wouldn’t be able to get right—people at Jihoon’s school—or people she did know. Other people at Pledis. Unfortunately, Jihoon had to shake his head. The chance of her figuring it out was considerably higher now, and his nerves hit a boiling point in his stomach.
She put another finger down. Eight questions left. She was looking over him again, and after a moment, gasped.
“Is it someone from After School?”
Jihoon’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You think—what?!”
“Hey! They’re hot!”
“But—but they...” He didn’t even know what to say, and she burst out laughing.
“Okay, okay. It’s a trainee, then.”
Jihoon nodded, then pointed at her. “That was a question.”
“I didn’t ask! It’s not my fault you answered!”
“It was a question!”
She gave him a side-eyed look, but begrudgingly lowered a finger anyway. Six questions left. Her next question took a long moment, after a slow look over him.
“Is this person a girl, Jihoon-ah?”
For some reason, he hadn’t expected her to go there. Especially not so quickly, or so directly. Instantly, the panic in Jihoon’s chest swelled, choking off all the air in his lungs. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, simply staring at her. He’d already promised not to lie. He couldn’t get the truth past his lips.
She glanced back, and something must have shown on his face. Something about his silence must have been obvious, because after a moment, she just nodded.
“Alright. Okay, Jihoon-ah. That’s okay. Is he older than you?”
He blinked. Tried to swallow. Couldn’t. She was continuing with the game? He’d expected something else from her, something more from her, but she was just waiting for an answer. So, after a moment, he nodded. She let her head tilt back, seemingly lost in thought. Then she let out another gasp, but it was a much less ludicrous guess than the last inspired one had been.
“Seungcheol! It’s Seungcheol, isn’t it?”
She had only put down six fingers, but she was right. He didn’t want to admit it, because… Because admitting it would be admitting it, but at the same time, they’d already gotten this far. He didn’t have much else to lose. It took a few moments of silent struggle, but he nodded.
“Yes.”
“Ha!” She brandished the four fingers she was still holding up into his face. “Got it in six! Five, really, but you were being stingy.” She stuck her tongue out at him for just a moment, then went back to grinning. “I’m a genius, I guess.”
“How did you know?” he had to ask. He still couldn’t get his voice much louder than a whisper. If it was obvious, he needed to know.
“He’s handsome. He’s nice to you. You aren’t really all that far apart in age.” She shrugged, looking at him again. “You met him on your first day, right?”
He nodded. He’d been led to the practice room by a staff member, so he could be introduced as the new trainee to everyone else. They were going to be told that he was moving from Busan, that he was Korean age sixteen, that he could play piano and guitar and could sing, and that he was here because he was the solitary winner of a three hundred person audition competition. Jihoon had been so nervous about the preconceived notions the other trainees were bound to have about him that he’d been half afraid he might throw up.
Then he’d bodily run into Choi Seungcheol. Seungcheol had been turning a corner too fast, knocking into Jihoon, easily pitching Jihoon backwards thanks to the full head of height and considerably broader shoulders he had. Seungcheol had cursed and reached out to steady him, meeting Jihoon’s eyes, giving him a bright smile when he was back on his feet, squeezing Jihoon’s bicep in a way that was probably meant to be comforting. He’d had his baseball cap on crooked, and Jihoon had gone from zero to a hundred almost instantly. Actually finding out who Seungcheol was and learning about him, about how he was such a mix of hardworking and playful, how endearing and headstrong and stubborn he was, had turned Jihoon’s initial infatuation into actual feelings, and now Seungcheol was a crush he’d been hiding away for the past four months.
Just the thought of it all had him blushing again, and Amy made a strange squeak of a noise, reaching over to pinch at his cheek. He batted her hand away.
“Oh come on, it’s cute!” she insisted, but he shook his head. “So, what? Do you like girls at all?”
After a moment, he shook his head again. He’d never been able to say it out loud and he couldn’t do it now either, his eyes on his fingers, clenched into fists in his lap. She didn’t seem disgusted, or disappointed in him. She didn’t even seem particularly surprised.
“How long have you known?”
“I…” He couldn’t think of an actual time, an actual, solid point of realization. It was just something that had slowly crept up on him until it was too true to ignore. “Always, I think.”
“Okay.”
He lifted his head to glance at her. She was looking at him. He’d just admitted to something that made a traditional future impossible for him, something that forced any relationship he might want to have into secrecy, something that turned his parents’ love into a conditional concept that, depending on their reaction, could be refused to him if he ever decided to tell them, too. And she was just looking at him.
Then she frowned. The negative action was almost relieving, because it made sense, until Jihoon realized that instead of any distaste, she was just concerned, and she reached over to gently tuck some of his hair behind his ear.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him. He shook his head. He didn’t want to vocalize any of this. Uncharacteristically she didn’t press him, extending her arms back and leaning her weight into her palms, sighing.
“Too bad. We could’ve been an awesome music power couple, somewhere down the road. I’ll let you and Seungcheol be the power couple I guess, as long as he treats you right. And I can feature on your songs, you know.”
The words sat with him for a moment. She was speaking lightly, as though to alleviate the heaviness in the room, but Jihoon couldn’t find it in himself to play along.
“That’s not funny,” he managed out.
“I’m not laughing at you,” she responded, but he didn’t understand how she could say something like that without it being a joke. “Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
That was the dumbest question Jihoon had ever heard. “No.”
“What? Why not?”
Never mind. That was the dumbest question. It was so obvious that for a moment, Jihoon didn’t know what to say.
“He—he doesn’t like me. He wouldn’t like me.” Seungcheol didn’t have one now, but he’d had two girlfriends in the past. Some of the trainees had all stayed up late one night and talked about it, about girls and dating and relationships. Jihoon had been given a pass for his silence because he’d only been there for a month so far and was the youngest, though he had been forced to admit to them that he’d never been kissed before. “And besides, he’s going to be gone soon.”
Seungcheol was slated to debut with five of the older boys—Jonghyun, Dongho, Youngmin, Minki, and Minhyun—in Pledis’s first ever boy group. It was supposed to happen sometime early in 2012, and with them now being in the last week of August, this year only had four months left.
“He won’t be gone forever,” Amy said. “He won’t even really be gone at all. He’ll move out of the trainee dorm, sure, but he’s staying with the company. You’ll still see him all the time. The distance won’t be too bad.”
“No, I… I want the distance.” Jihoon put his eyes back on his hands. “Distance is good.”
Seeing Seungcheol happy made him happy. Seungcheol complimenting him, or engaging him in some inside joke was something that could make Jihoon’s entire day, something he could think back on if practice was hard or school sucked or he was tired, making him smile before he realized it.
But Seungcheol also made him feel stupid. Seungcheol unexpectedly smiling at him or jokingly hitting him on the butt would often make Jihoon freeze up, or trip over his own feet. They weren’t really very close friends, because Jihoon had a difficult time talking to Seungcheol like he was a normal human person; their one-on-one conversations were part nervous giggling, and part opinions on anime that felt more like small talk.
Besides, harboring a crush, especially a crush like this, a crush on a boy, felt less like a fun teenage daydream and more like a dirty secret. He didn’t have that fantasy of Seungcheol finding out, and reciprocating; Seungcheol was good, and normal, and better than him. Seungcheol would be shocked and uncomfortable.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to burden him with this.” Jihoon still couldn’t really look at Amy. “It doesn’t… It’s not good. I shouldn’t feel like this.”
“Jihoon-ah, you’re not burdening anyone,” she told him. “Except maybe yourself, for being so afraid. It’s not like you’re being mean to him or something. You haven’t even told him. And if you did—it’s just a crush. Liking someone is never a bad thing, okay? Ever.”
Coming to terms with being gay had been a straightforward, solitary process for Jihoon. Figuring it out hadn’t been hard, with people like Rain and Taecyeon out there in the entertainment world, men who were supposed to be marketed towards the female gaze that he felt himself lingering on as well. Acceptance of it hadn’t been easy, but he also knew that it wasn’t something he could change, so he didn’t see a point in trying. He wasn’t going to force himself to date a girl. He was too frightened to allow himself to date a guy. The idea of being alone forever was one he truly despised, as stupid and selfish and needy as that made him feel; he knew that he was someone who craved attention and affection, despite how rare it was for him to ask for it. He felt awful. He felt so stuck.
“It would just… It would be easier,” he confessed, “if I just… didn’t.” He swallowed. “I don’t, I just don’t… I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
“Oh, my little one.” Amy let out a sigh, scooting closer to him on the floor, pulling him in for a hug. It was a sweet term of endearment, one Jihoon knew he would probably hate if it came from anyone else, but he let her wrap her arms around him. “I forget that you grew up here. Listen; love is wonderful. The way you love, who you love; none of it is bad! People write movies, write songs, write poems and books about it. You couldn’t—you wouldn’t burden someone, Jihoon. You couldn’t hurt them. Not by loving them.”
Jihoon let himself hug Amy back. Amy was kind and pretended she didn’t feel him crying on her shoulder. It was then declared to be much too late to be awake anymore, and they parted ways to go to bed. Jihoon wiped at his face and played on his phone as he walked back to the dorm, startled when he opened the front door and came face to face with Seungcheol, who was hopping around as he tried to tug a shoe on.
“I was about to go get you!” he exclaimed when he finally looked up and saw Jihoon standing there. “It’s late! We were getting worried.”
“Oh.” Jihoon could feel his ears start to burn. Seungcheol had been worried about him, had been wondering about him, had been about to make the walk from the dorm to the Pledis building in the dark to go and get him. Jihoon was glad, so glad, that he hadn’t actually managed to do it; there was nothing more mortifying than the thought of Seungcheol walking in and seeing Jihoon crying over him.
Seungcheol kicked his shoe off, leaving it where it landed in the middle of the floor, wrapping an arm around Jihoon to pull him into the living room. The touch felt like a lot, what with the way Jihoon had been thinking about Seungcheol so much in the past hour. He felt his heartbeat skyrocket, each of Seungcheol’s fingertips on his upper arm hypersensitive, unable to do anything but let himself be tugged. Everyone—aside from Minki, who had his head on Youngmin’s shoulder, his mouth open and eyes closed—were still awake too.
“Where were you?” Jonghyun asked. Jihoon shrugged.
“Oh, I just—I was in the practice room with Amy,” he explained. Seungcheol’s arm was still around him; he could feel Seungcheol looking at him. “We were singing.”
“We’re not mad or anything,” Dongho told him. “It’s just late, and…”
And Jihoon was young. Jihoon knew that was how the older trainees saw him; he was the small one, the baby.
“Hey, are you okay?” Seungcheol asked. He was frowning, reaching towards his face with his free hand. An awful mix of something like dread, and something like anticipation curled in Jihoon’s stomach at the proximity, but Seungcheol didn’t touch him, just pointing to his eyelids instead. He looked worried. Jihoon realized they must still be red and puffy, giving his head a quick shake.
“I’m just tired,” he said. It all felt like too much; Jihoon needed to get out of there. He didn’t want them to know he’d been crying. He didn’t want them to ask why. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll go to bed.”
“Okay!” Doyoon called after him, startling Minki awake. “Goodnight!”
A chorus of “goodnight!”s followed him down the hallway, Jihoon closing the bathroom door. He showered quickly and got in bed, his head a mess of all of the things Amy had told him, putting earbuds in and playing the anime OSTs he had stored on his phone in an attempt to drown it all out. When the other boys began climbing into bed, Jihoon closed his eyes and feigned already having fallen asleep; somewhere in his pretending, he genuinely began dozing, and was out for the night.
Life proceeded as normally as possible as they stepped into September. A few trainees that Jihoon barely talked to came and went. Amy returned to YMC Entertainment to record something with label mate Wheesung, her first official release under the stage name Ailee, the song supposed to come out in October. Jihoon went to school and went to practice, still struggling and failing to find a good balance between getting enough sleep and getting all of his assignments done. It was hard, something about it seeming to get a little bit harder the busier Amy was and the less often she was at the Pledis building, and eventually, the lack of sleep caught up with him. Unfortunately, it came in the form of him crying in front of everyone during dance practice when he was reprimanded for the umpteenth time about getting a step sequence wrong.
The embarrassment and distress was almost too much, and thankfully their dance teacher seemed to sense that, caught off guard by his hysterics.
“It’s okay Jihoon-ah,” he said, his voice now much more gentle, but Jihoon didn’t want that either; now everyone was staring at him, even the people that hadn’t noticed his stifled sniffling, and he didn’t want to be pitied. The instructor bent to pick the iPad up from the floor, where he’d recorded the routine they were learning for them to look more closely at the details, or to practice it on their own. Like he was sending Jihoon off to do now, so he wouldn’t hold the rest of the room back anymore. “Here, take this and work on it in that other room. Come to me and show me when you’re finished.”
Grateful to be out of the view of the other boys, Jihoon quickly took the iPad and left. He had to sit on the floor for a little while and just breathe, drawing his knees in to touch his forehead, wrapping his arms around them. It took a couple minutes of sitting and breathing to stop crying—more from the relief and catharsis of the action than of any kind of embarrassment or sadness—then he had to force himself to his feet and get started again.
He wasn’t sure how long he worked at it, the humiliation of the call-out more motivating than the desire to improve and get the steps right. He was unwilling to go back out once he had the footwork nailed down, knowing he would now be behind and deciding to work ahead a little. After maybe an hour the door opened, and Seungcheol popped his head in. The concern was cute on his face, his lips bunched into a slight pout, his eyebrows drawn together, and Jihoon felt his face flush.
“You alright?” he asked, Jihoon nodding quickly, flustered at the thought of Seungcheol being worried about him.
“Yeah, yeah I’m—”
“Is he okay?” came a second voice, Minhyun peeking in under Seungcheol’s arm. Dongho and Minki were there too, and all four of them were frowning in his direction.
“Why aren’t you guys practicing?” Jihoon asked back, slightly overwhelmed by their collective concern.
“The instructor had to go,” Seungcheol said with an easy shrug as he walked into the room, slinging an arm over Jihoon’s shoulders, the weight of it heavy. The other three followed him in, and then Jihoon wasn’t alone anymore. “We’re supposed to practice on our own, but we decided that we wanted to help you!”
“Oh.” Jihoon swallowed, unsure if he wanted that or not. “Uh, thanks.”
Seungcheol beamed at him, bright and encouraging and perfect, the sweat from his temples having left small, wet tracks down the sides of his face. “Well? Show us what you’ve got.”
They commended him on what he’d managed to do on his own, and the support was a relief. Then they taught him what they'd learned in his absence, and when it was ready, they pushed him to go find the dance instructor and show him.
“But he left?” Jihoon asked in confusion, as Dongho literally picked him up under the arms and started carrying him to the door.
“He’s still in the building,” Minki clarified. “He’s just, I don’t know, somewhere. This place isn’t that big; you can find him.”
Jihoon was deposited outside the door. So he figured he should probably go look.
Despite Minki’s words, finding the instructor was a struggle. He wasn’t in any of the hallways, Jihoon getting up on his tiptoes to start peering through door windows. He didn’t plan on actually disrupting whatever it was the instructor was doing, simply wanting to get the man’s attention, to show that he was ready, and that he could display his improvement when his meeting or whatever was done. He doubled all the way back down to the practice rooms, about to admit defeat—or get the others to help him—when a door to a practice room more commonly used by the female trainees opened, and a boy Jihoon didn’t recognize stepped out, meeting his eyes for just a moment before looking down at his feet, pushing past him. It was disarming, Jihoon approaching the door and peeking through the window.
There was a table set up in the room in front of a line of chairs, each chair holding an important person in the company; Jihoon was surprised to see CEO Sungsoo sitting in the middle, his glasses on, his face its usual, intimidating deadpan. A boy was standing in the middle of the room, his feet together, his hands clasped in front of himself, fidgeting awkwardly. Jihoon recognized the setup, recognized the lineup of spectators, recognized the nervousness on the boy’s face. It was all incredibly reminiscent of his own audition.
There was a verbal exchange that Jihoon couldn’t hear, the boy up for the audition nodding along, messing with the sleeves that covered his hands. Then music must have started, because the boy began to dance.
It was impressive how well he moved. Jihoon recognized the choreography immediately as SHINee’s Lucifer, and despite how difficult the dance undoubtedly was, this boy made it look almost as easy as SHINee did when performing it onstage. Jihoon could pick up on elements in his motions that had been talked about by their teachers, things he knew he still needed to learn; rhythm, flow, isolation. It was a notable display of skill, and while there wasn’t much of a reaction when the boy finished—Jihoon slipping away and hiding around a corner when the boy left the room—Jihoon had no doubt in his mind that regardless of this stranger’s singing ability, he would see him again. Passing up on adding a trainee like him would be a waste that Jihoon didn’t think these producers would be dumb enough to make.
And sure enough, in the first week of September, Jihoon saw him again. He’d just stepped from the bathroom in the lobby of the Pledis building, having changed from his school uniform into his practice clothes, met with the familiar face of the auditionee. He looked very confused, standing there, occasionally spinning around.
It didn’t take long for the boy to spot him and then he hurried up to Jihoon, his quick approach juxtaposed by the tentative expression on his face.
“Um, hi,” he said. “You might not know this or something, but could you show me where the boys’ practice room is?”
“What?” The wording of the question didn’t really make sense, Jihoon wondering if he’d heard correctly.
“Unless the girls and boys practice in the same place! Then you could just show me how to get there, if you don’t mind. I’m kind of lost.”
Jihoon looked down to his clothes, just to make sure. Yep, he was wearing normal jeans and a t-shirt. The confusion on Jihoon’s face must have been persistent, because the boy continued.
“I’m new! Today is my first day. I don’t really know where to go.”
“I… I mean, I can show you,” Jihoon said hesitantly. “I’m a guy, though. So we’d be going to the same place.”
It was kind of hilarious, really, to watch the boy’s expression change; his eyes went wide and his jaw went slack, and in any other context, the up-and-down Jihoon was given would have been embarrassing. Not that this wasn’t embarrassing in and of itself.
“Oh, shit,” he said softly, and that, too, almost made Jihoon laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m—I’m so sorry!” He gave Jihoon a complete ninety degree bow. “It’s just—your hair is kind of long, and you’re so pale and so pretty, and you’re, you’re...”
Jihoon wished he would say “short”, because it was almost exhausting, watching him struggle to come up with a kinder alternative. Jihoon also wished he would just quit with the frantic apology altogether.
“I’m taller than you,” the boy finished lamely. Jihoon reached up, scratching at the hair at the base of his neck. Maybe he needed a haircut.
“It’s fine, I guess,” he said, mostly because he didn’t really want this to be a big deal. “I’m Lee Jihoon.”
“I’m Kwon Soonyoung!” was the response, enthusiasm in his words, and Jihoon turned to lead the way to the practice room. He had to turn back and gesture when Soonyoung didn’t automatically start following him. Soonyoung jogged to catch up, and began talking again. “I’m here because I’m okay at dancing, I guess. They saw me at a dance competition, and wanted me to come. I still have to go through a training period before they sign me, but I’m excited. What about you?”
“I um… I can sing,” Jihoon finally decided to say, thinking back to the audition he’d watched, wondering what this Soonyoung’s standards for dancing were if he only considered himself to be “okay, I guess” at it. Jihoon himself had definitely improved a lot since joining the company, but his dancing was still a bit clumsy, and didn’t want to claim it was a skill he had in front of someone like Soonyoung. “And I can play instruments, and read music, and stuff.”
“That’s so cool!” Soonyoung exclaimed at him. The words really should have sounded exaggerated or disingenuous, but somehow from Soonyoung, they didn’t. “I don’t… I mean, I don’t think I’m bad at singing, but I’ll have to get better at it. And I can’t play anything. Maybe you could teach me how music works.”
The phrase “teach me how music works” made absolutely no sense to Jihoon, but before he could even ask, they’d gotten to the practice room. Half of the boys were already there, back from high school, their schools closer to the company building than Jihoon’s was.
“Hey!” Dongho grinned, waving at him. “Whatcha got there?”
“I’m Kwon Soonyoung!” Kwon Soonyoung said. He wouldn’t stop smiling at people. It did have a twinge of nervousness to it, but it was nice, probably; Seungcheol waved and smiled back at him. “This is my first day. I asked Jihoon-ssi to show me where the practice room was.”
“You should probably talk to an adult,” Jonghyun said with a thoughtful frown, pushing himself up off the floor. “Here, come with me and we’ll find a staff member, okay?”
Soonyoung was quickly led away, Jihoon grateful he hadn’t told the full story. Not with Seungcheol here.
“He seems fun,” Doyoon remarked.
“Yeah, he’s nice,” Jihoon told them. “He said he can dance.”
Soonyoung and Jonghyun returned quickly, along with a staff member that more or less said what Soonyoung had—that he was new, and would be joining them for a period of time. He also gave Soonyoung a bit more of a formal introduction, Jihoon finding out that Soonyoung was the same age as he was, just a couple of months older. It was nice, not to be the youngest in the room anymore, and Soonyoung seemed to take the matching birth year as a reason to stick to him.
New people were good at making Jihoon shut down and close off. The reason for it was twofold; Jihoon was a naturally shy person, so getting to know someone new was a tough, laborious process. Thanks to the difficulty of Pledis’s training program, only a small fraction of trainees stuck around, and Jihoon had already been burned a couple of times by newfound friends leaving him; he didn’t find the emotional energy worth spending if he was just going to be abandoned.
Soonyoung either didn’t notice his standoffish attitude, or he just didn’t care; he was an optimistic mix of nervous and excited about being here, and wouldn’t stop talking to Jihoon about it. He spoke whether Jihoon responded or not, something that probably should have been annoying but again, somehow, it wasn’t. Something about it was a bit relieving, taking the pressure of carrying on a conversation off of Jihoon’s shoulders, but still letting Jihoon feel that he hadn’t offended Soonyoung with his silence. Today they were practicing choreography that they’d put to 2PM’s I’ll Be Back, so Soonyoung spent most of the day in a corner, observing them, doing muted motions with his arms and legs. His eyes were very sharp and focused as he watched, and it was a bit daunting.
He completely jumped in the next day, without being asked; he’d carved out a spot for himself in their formation, declaring that he’d memorized all of the group moves for the chorus, and had a couple of ideas about how to fit himself into the more complicated formation changes. While it was surprising, after watching Soonyoung’s audition, Jihoon definitely thought it was possible. The other boys were skeptical, but seemed willing to take him up on his bold claims, so they started the music.
Soonyoung could dance. And he did, for the most part, have the choreography memorized. It was immediately intimidating, and by the end of the day, he was even correcting some of them on timing and angles of arms and legs. He did it hesitantly, kindly, clearly conscious of his new place in the group and not wanting to overstep. Even so, it was obvious that some of the other boys were a little miffed about it. And admittedly, Jihoon was too, just a bit. At the same time though, dancing wasn’t his strongest point, and he wanted to get better. He still had a leg up on Soonyoung with everything else, and this was an area he needed help in, so he accepted it. Soonyoung was quieter when he was focused, much more serious, with an incredible eye for details; his commitment to quality and driven attitude was something Jihoon felt himself very drawn to. By the end of the week the entire routine was much tighter, and Soonyoung was on a fast track to becoming Jihoon’s best friend.
Jihoon was glad to have a new person he could call a safe space, because Amy was getting ready to leave. With her debut fast approaching, her training period with Pledis was declared over, and she was at the YMC building more and more to work on her debut single, begin a more extreme diet, and get promotional pictures made.
“I’m not actually leaving,” she told him on what was officially her last contracted day, though how tightly she was hugging Jihoon told him otherwise. “I’m going to be busy, sure, but you have my number. Text me. Call me. With anything, okay? Don’t hesitate.”
He nodded and she stepped back, patting his head before looking to the room at large.
“You guys had better take care of him,” she said, and they all promised they would, Seungcheol indignantly asking why she’d needed to glare at him while saying that, Jihoon trying his hardest not to go pink. All of the Pledis Boys hugged her too, both Seungcheol and Dongho squeezing her so tightly that she protested. Jihoon knew he was happy for her—she deserved to show the world what she could do, and the world needed to hear it—and he tried to act that way, managing to hold off for about a week before sending her a text, a short and quick I miss you.
She responded with four hearts, a kiss emoticon, and a Beyoncé lyric, and it made him laugh.
Soonyoung cried when he signed his trainee contract. It was surprising, actually, just how much he cried, clinging to Jihoon’s shoulders and trying to hide his wet face in Jihoon’s back, murmured thanks falling clumsily from his mouth until any words he tried for at all were indecipherable. Jihoon wanted to comfort him, but it was hard with the way Soonyoung was behind him, reaching around to give what he hoped were assuring pats on the butt.
Soonyoung went from saying “thank you”s to giving apologies, wiping his nose on his arm, smiling along with their amusement at how choked and teary his voice sounded.
“Don’t apologize!” Minki exclaimed, wrapping Soonyoung up in a hug. “You’re so passionate, okay? It’s good!”
“Full of passion!” Youngmin exclaimed with a nod, and Soonyoung gave a watery little laugh. “We’re happy for you.”
Minki let Soonyoung go and he returned to Jihoon’s side, Jihoon patting at his back this time, giving him a smile and a nod. Soonyoung moved into the dorm with them not long after, getting the bottom bunk of a bunk bed to share with another new kid named Youngwon. He woke up even earlier than Jihoon did to get to school on time, and seeing that, seeing him sleep in his school uniform and stumble out of bed with his eyes still closed every morning, and still do so well at practice every day, was inspiring to Jihoon. Everything about Soonyoung inspired Jihoon in different ways, and he was shocked by, at the end of the month, just how much his own dancing had improved.
It was almost like déjà vu, walking into the lobby of the Pledis building after school and seeing another unfamiliar boy standing in the middle of the room. But the boy didn’t look confused and he wasn’t alone, instead standing and chatting with Soonyoung.
“Ah, and that’s Jihoon!” Soonyoung exclaimed, pointing at him. Jihoon froze upon being put on the spot, and the stranger turned around, smiling at him.
He was cute, but the first thing Jihoon noticed was that the guy was tall. He was a head taller than Soonyoung, and looked like he would be both a head and shoulders taller than Jihoon himself.
“Hi!” he exclaimed, smiling enough to show his teeth. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”
“Uh,” Jihoon managed out. Then he gave a little wave. “Lee Jihoon.”
“He’s a little shy,” Soonyoung said, leaning in towards Mingyu, his voice a stage-whisper. He was grinning in a way that made Jihoon want to kick him in the butt.
“That’s okay! It’s cute,” Kim Mingyu said. Jihoon wasn’t really sure how to respond to those words, so he went ahead and kicked Soonyoung in the butt. Soonyoung whined and rubbed at where Jihoon’s shoe hit him, and Mingyu burst into giggles as he watched them.
“I’m going to change,” Jihoon declared, but once he was out of his school uniform and in his practice clothes, Soonyoung and Mingyu were still in the lobby. They’d waited for him.
“Seungcheol-hyung picked him up from the train station, but he’s busy, so he kind of dropped Mingyu-ssi off with me,” Soonyoung explained. “I figured that we should show him where the practice room is! Then Jonghyun-hyung can take him to a staff member, like you guys did for me.”
Soonyoung hadn’t seemed to consider that the two of them could just take Mingyu to a staff member themselves, but Jihoon wasn’t about to oppose Soonyoung’s excitement.
“So I love to dance, and Jihoon is good at everything,” Soonyoung started, and at the words, Jihoon noticed Mingyu’s eyes flick to him. “Why are you here?”
“Oh, um…” Mingyu looked embarrassed. “I got street casted. For like, my face.”
That made Soonyoung laugh. “It’s a good face!” he commended, Mingyu laughing while Jihoon nodded along. It was a good face. “And you’re tall, too!”
Mingyu shrugged a little, but his cheeks had gone pink from the complimentary words.
“My dad is tall,” he explained, and Soonyoung laughed again.
“Do you like dancing?” Soonyoung asked. “Or singing, or something?”
Mingyu shrugged. “Yeah! I mean, I don’t really know how to dance, but I’ve sung at school before, and it seems fun.”
“Don’t worry, we can teach you,” Soonyoung said, gesturing between himself and Jihoon, Mingyu beaming at the both of them.
“Especially Jihoon-ssi, if he’s good at everything, right?” Mingyu asked, meeting Jihoon’s eyes and smiling at him. Jihoon had absolutely no idea what to do with that, so he didn’t respond.
They led Mingyu to the practice room and, as Soonyoung had said he would, Jonghyun did the responsible thing and took Mingyu away after he got through introducing himself to everyone. Soonyoung turned immediately to Jihoon in excitement.
“Cool new guy!” he said happily. “He passed his audition in flip flops. He sang the national anthem.”
“Seriously?” Jihoon asked back, and Soonyoung nodded, saying Mingyu had told him so. That was completely laughable, Jihoon remembering his own stressful experience at “2011 Pledis: The First Audition”. Visuals were important then. At least Jihoon had had a couple of news articles with his name in them.
“So,” Soonyoung said, a grin on his face, “how old do you think he is?”
“You didn’t ask?” Jihoon asked back. “I mean… he’s older, right? He’s just—” Jihoon held his hands apart, one arm high over his head to demonstrate. “—he’s so tall.”
Soonyoung nodded in agreement. “I figured he has to be older. So like what, twenty-three? Twenty-seven?”
“Nineteen,” Jihoon argued back, the big number surprising him. “His face isn’t that old.”
“Maybe he has a baby face, though,” Soonyoung said. “Like you.”
Jihoon hit Soonyoung on the arm, Soonyoung yelping and dancing away, despite knowing he’d get retaliation for his comment.
“Okay, and maybe he doesn’t.”
“Maybe he does.”
They argued about it for a long while, because Mingyu didn’t come back for over an hour, Jihoon doubling down on older teenage years while Soonyoung insisted Mingyu had to be in his early twenties. By the time they’d decided that whoever was the most wrong would have to write their name in the air with their butt, Mingyu had returned. He was alone, but he was smiling, and went straight up to Soonyoung and Jihoon.
“What took so long?” Soonyoung asked him.
“We had to talk about me moving in and stuff,” Mingyu explained. “Could I stay in a room with you? Or Jihoon-ssi, maybe? Since you guys are my friends?”
Jihoon, again, felt taken aback. They’d only known each other for what, fifteen minutes total, and Mingyu was already using the word “friend” for the two of them? It wasn’t… It wasn’t a bad feeling though, somehow. Just surprising, especially with how Soonyoung had done a similar thing just a month before. Jihoon knew he wasn’t all smiley and likable, like many of the other trainees were; he wasn’t used to people butting into his life like this.
“We don’t have a lot of control over that,” he said, and Mingyu deflated a bit. “It depends on where the empty beds in the dorm are.”
“How old are you?” Soonyoung asked, after a short beat of silence. The question was blunt, and Mingyu blinked for a moment.
“I was born in ninety-seven,” he said. “My birthday is in April.”
It took a long moment for the information to sink in, and it was all Jihoon had not to let his mouth fall open. Mingyu had—internationally—turned fourteen just six months ago.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Soonyoung said softly. The rude word clearly caught Mingyu off guard, his nose scrunching up in surprised amusement as he giggled, and in that moment, the youth was clear on his face.
“Wait, wait, if he’s fifteen…” Soonyoung was having trouble with the information. Jihoon didn’t blame him. Then Soonyoung turned to Jihoon, his mouth slack. “You were closer? How did you know?”
Jihoon didn’t want to say it, but he felt he had more experience than Soonyoung did at being shorter than people.
“Wait.” Mingyu looked between the two of them. “How old are you guys?”
“Ninety-six, for us,” Soonyoung said, slinging an arm around Jihoon’s shoulders. “We’re a year older than you.”
“You’re older than me?!” Mingyu seemed just as shocked as they were, but it was obvious by the way he looked to Jihoon that Soonyoung being older was the lesser of the two surprises. Then their eyes met, Jihoon glancing up to his face, watching as Mingyu’s expression went a bit more hesitant. Jihoon realized that like Soonyoung had, Mingyu was about to apologize. And, sure enough, “Sorry for calling you cute like that—not that you’re not cute, you are, you really are!—but I just—”
“It’s okay,” Jihoon said, also wanting this rushed apology to stop. It was official: he needed a haircut. “I thought you were older too, so… so it’s fine.”
“Lots of people do,” Mingyu told him. “I really need to ask more often.”
“Plus, the first time I met Jihoon, I did something way worse,” Soonyoung said, beginning to laugh. “He walked out of the bathroom, and I totally thought that he was—”
Jihoon put a hand over Soonyoung’s mouth. He was going to have to kill Soonyoung, if he wanted to keep this a secret.
“No!” Mingyu whined at Jihoon. “I wanna hear! What did he do?”
Jihoon pulled Soonyoung away, who made muffled protests and dragged his feet the whole way across the room.
Mingyu didn’t live far, and ended up moving in slowly over the next week, a little put out that his bedroom was down the hall from the one Jihoon and Soonyoung were in. The addition of him to the house was a little bit of a shakeup, simply because instead of keeping to himself like most of them did upon arriving, he was always ready to greet an unfamiliar face and make a new friend. He was only a little annoying, but it wasn’t always a bad thing, because once he pushed enough to get a conversation going, he managed to get along well with just about everyone. It was evident, the more he interacted with the older boys, that he truly was younger than them. In a way, Jihoon found it nice and relaxing; Jihoon himself had been the youngest for a while, always silently desperate to prove his maturity, but around Mingyu he didn’t have to do that, with silly actions encouraged and immature whining accepted without criticism.
Mingyu was insistent that among all of the trainees, Soonyoung and Jihoon were his best friends. And Jihoon was sure that with Soonyoung, that was true; they bickered often about things that seemed inconsequential, but they always made up about it too. While Jihoon liked Mingyu, he wasn’t sure he could classify them as friends. He had the horrible feeling that if he tried, he really could like Mingyu, but meeting Soonyoung felt too good to be true, and Jihoon didn’t want to push his luck. He didn’t want to get attached, trying to emotionally keep Mingyu an arm’s length away in case Mingyu decided that he wanted to leave.
Mingyu didn’t really seem to notice this, however. He was nice to Jihoon anyway, and smiled at Jihoon anyway, trying to talk to him and get his attention. As a result, Jihoon often found himself as collateral damage to Mingyu’s inherent clumsiness, because Mingyu was hilariously clumsy.
It was one of the most incredible things Jihoon had ever witnessed; it was almost as though Mingyu’s limbs were too long for him to be fully aware of them. He tripped, bumped tables or walls, dropped things, or accidentally hit himself in the face at least once a day without fail, and the nonplussed reaction he had to these events made it clear that the clumsiness had been a lifelong issue. He would trip over Jihoon’s feet. He somehow spilled Jihoon’s drink into his own lap three times in four days. He would sometimes just run into Jihoon, but if the collision had Jihoon tipping over, would thankfully manage to catch him as well. For all his good looks and charming personality, Mingyu was a bit of a disaster in motion, and admittedly, that made him a bit less threatening.
Mingyu wasn’t introverted like Soonyoung, and didn’t understand the way that Soonyoung did that even if Jihoon was being quiet, he was listening and appreciated the conversation. He took Jihoon not responding to heart, something Jihoon didn’t realize until Mingyu actually stopped him before leaving practice one day and asked if Jihoon was mad at him. It took Jihoon aback, and he’d been so confused that he’d just looked at Mingyu for a moment.
“I… no?”
“Is it because I stepped on your foot this morning?”
“Mingyu-yah, you also stepped on your own foot this morning,” Soonyoung said in passing, patting Mingyu on the shoulder. “You’re fine. He’s just quiet sometimes.”
Mingyu looked at Jihoon for confirmation of Soonyoung’s words, and Jihoon nodded. He didn’t want Mingyu to think he’d done something wrong, or that there was any bad blood between them.
“I… yeah. I like you, Mingyu-ssi.”
“Okay.” Mingyu visibly relaxed, Jihoon very surprised by how much the idea of his friendship seemed to mean to Mingyu. It had his resolve to stay distant softening, just a little. “Good.”
Mingyu truly could not dance. Not in a way that suggested he was inherently bad at it, just in the simple truth that he’d never had to genuinely try to dance before. Like he seemed to be with most things though, he was extremely eager to learn, so Soonyoung promised to teach him, dedicating some extra time after practice towards getting him up to speed. It was a very nice offer for Soonyoung to make, to spend time he could be using to sleep or do schoolwork at the Pledis building with Mingyu instead, and Jihoon could tell that Mingyu was grateful.
Progress seemed relatively slow however, and Mingyu seemed frustrated by it, coming home exhausted and pouty. If Jihoon was still awake Mingyu would whine at him as he got ready for bed, complaining to him about Soonyoung’s teaching habits if Soonyoung wasn't in the room. It was never serious enough or upset enough to feel like Mingyu was talking about Soonyoung behind his back, Jihoon usually just finding amusement in it instead, letting Mingyu rant at him.
"He made me do the same turn thirty-seven times," he told Jihoon, his voice hushed, yanking his sweaty t-shirt up over his head. Jihoon only looked at him for a moment before averting his eyes back to his phone screen. "Thirty-seven! I counted. I got so dizzy."
"You must have really sucked at it," Jihoon told him, the words making Mingyu frown and toss the shirt at him. Jihoon made a face and ducked away from it.
"Hey, do you guys know where the scissors are?" Soonyoung asked, entering the room. He had a rather large cardboard box in his arms, lifting it slightly in explanation as he spoke. "I have a package."
It took some scouring but eventually they found a pair, the two of them sitting on either side of Soonyoung on the kitchen floor as he got the package open.
"I have no idea what this is," Soonyoung told them as he worked, setting the scissors down on the floor and reaching for the box flaps. "I don't recognize the return address."
That made the contents even more confusing: it was a box full of Soonyoung’s belongings, with some clothes, books, albums, and even a few childhood toys. Soonyoung frowned at it before pulling his phone from his pocket and calling his father, who picked up despite the late hour.
"Hey, what is this package about?" he asked. Jihoon couldn't make out the response, but the confusion on Soonyoung’s face didn't cease throughout the entirety of the conversation. Soonyoung didn’t often get a word in, not getting any further than "but" or "why" before he was cut off.
“Okay,” Soonyoung finally said, seemingly too exhausted to argue, and the call ended. He pulled the device from his head and stared at it for a few moments.
"What's going on?" Mingyu asked him.
"I… I don’t know,” Soonyoung answered. “He said that Mom was worried I might get homesick, since I don't go home often. And that's… I mean, that's nice I guess, but I don't really have anywhere to put this stuff." He dug through the box again, taking out a few random items just to look at them and set them back down. "That's why I didn't bring it with me in the first place."
With Mingyu’s help, they were able to rearrange the contents in one of the hall closets, fitting the box inside and closing the door. Despite the lack of space in the dorm, three more packages of Soonyoung’s things arrived in the mail over the coming weeks. Everyone was confused by it, but no one was more baffled than Soonyoung himself.
"I already asked them to stop," he promised Seungcheol, when the fourth box had arrived and they'd truly had run out of room. "I swear that I did. It's like they're sending my entire bedroom over here. I have no idea why."
Things came to a head when, as he was about to enter the Pledis building, a car that Jihoon didn't recognize pulled up. The passenger side window rolled down, and a young woman that looked astoundingly like Soonyoung popped her head out.
"Do you know Kwon Soonyoung?" she asked him. Jihoon nodded, figuring that this had to be the older sister that he’d heard about a few times. "Could you tell him that I'm here?"
Jihoon nodded again, promising he would and entering the building. Thankfully Soonyoung was already there, having dragged Mingyu into a corner, going over some dance moves with him at one-fourth speed.
“Hey, there’s someone here for you,” he said. “A silver car, and a girl—your sister, I think?—wants to talk to you.”
“My sister?” Soonyoung asked. He sounded absolutely bewildered, hurrying outside. Jihoon followed at a distance, hanging back as Soonyoung went up to the passenger side window.
“Noona? What…” Soonyoung trailed off as he got a look inside the car. “Why did Auntie drive you here? Is that my bike? What’s going on?”
Soonyoung’s sister’s lips pulled into a knot of concern, her eyes darting to Jihoon for a quick second before gesturing to the backseat.
“Get in, Soonyoung-ah. We… There’s something I need to talk to you about, okay?”
After a moment of hesitation, Soonyoung did. Soonyoung’s sister rolled her windows up, and then Jihoon couldn’t hear them anymore. The back windows were tinted, so Jihoon couldn’t see Soonyoung either, worry jumping in his chest when Soonyoung emerged. Something was wrong, very wrong, and he brushed past Jihoon wordlessly to reenter the Pledis building, Jihoon having no choice but to follow after him.
“Soonyoung-ah?” he asked hesitantly. Soonyoung was walking with purpose, eyes fixed and facing forwards. “Is everything okay?”
“I need to talk to our teachers, or a manager, or, or…” Soonyoung stopped, rubbing at his eyes with his fists. They were dry, just a little red from the irritation when he pulled his hands away. “I need—who do I talk to if I need to go home?”
Jihoon knew that Soonyoung didn’t just mean the dorm. He meant home like home, home like Namyangju, and Jihoon decided not to press him, leading him off to an office that he knew many of their teachers liked to spend time in before practice started. Soonyoung didn’t invite Jihoon in, closing the door behind himself, and Jihoon didn’t know what to do. After ten minutes of standing there, Jihoon went back to the practice room.
Dongho caught Jihoon’s expression first, calling out a question of whether or not he was okay, while Mingyu bounded up.
“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Jihoon simply had to say that he didn’t know. Practice didn’t start when it was supposed to, and roughly fifteen minutes later, Jihoon’s phone went off in his pocket.
From: Soonyoungie
Can we talk? I’m outside
Jihoon didn’t waste time responding, out the door quickly. Soonyoung was standing by the car, the window rolled down again. There was a frown on Soonyoung’s sister’s face, her eyebrows knitted together, while Soonyoung’s own expression held a concerning type of fragility.
“Hey, um.” Soonyoung swallowed. “I have to go.”
“Are you okay?” Jihoon asked him.
“Yeah, yeah, I just have to go home this weekend, so…” He trailed off, pausing, and Jihoon frowned.
“Soonyoung-ah, what’s wrong?”
“Just—” Soonyoung cut himself off, his lips all scrunched up, his face pained. His eyes darted around, avoiding Jihoon for a moment before landing back on his face. “I… no, I—could you just teach Mingyu for me today? Please?”
“Oh.” Jihoon didn’t know what was going on, but with the distressed expression, the stopping and restarting, Soonyoung didn’t seem to want to tell him. “I—”
“I just—you know, I made a promise, I promised him, but—”
“I’ll do it.” Jihoon wanted to help however he could with whatever was wrong. If this was what Soonyoung needed, he could do it. “Yeah, Soonyoung-ah. Sure.”
“Thanks.” Soonyoung smiled at him, the expression going all wobbly. It put an uneasy feeling in Jihoon’s stomach, wishing there was something more he could do.
“Soonyoung-ah?” he asked, and Soonyoung stepped forwards, giving him a surprisingly tight hug. The force of it had Jihoon stumbling back a few paces, not able to collect himself together enough to hug him back before it was over.
“Thanks, Jihoon-ah.” Soonyoung swallowed again, and it seemed to be a slight struggle this time. “I love you, I really love you, and I’ll repay you, I promise!”
“You—what?” Jihoon asked, but Soonyoung just climbed into the car, and the three people drove off. Jihoon’s only option was to go back inside, and once he’d made it to the practice room, practice was finally starting.
“Why does Soonyoung get to skip?” Doyoon asked. Their dance teacher pursed his lips.
“Soonyoung-ah needed to go home this weekend,” he said, and then that was all he said. His refusal to elaborate instantly made the situation a concerning one, everyone muttering about it as they left. Only Mingyu and Jihoon stayed behind, Mingyu walking up to him.
“Hey, is hyung okay?” he asked, and Jihoon didn’t know what to say.
“I hope so,” he answered, and Mingyu frowned. “But I said I’d teach you this weekend, instead of him. So, uh…” He realized that he’d never been this type of alone with Mingyu before, had never had to be around him without a Soonyoung-shaped buffer, and nerves spiked in his chest.
“Yeah, he told me that he would ask you.” Mingyu walked to his backpack, crouching down to unzip it before smiling at Jihoon. “Thanks for saying yes.”
“What do you guys usually do?” Jihoon asked him.
“We usually sit on the floor and eat snacks first,” Mingyu said, digging through his stuff for a couple of moments before pulling out a bag of chips. “Want some?”
Nodding, Jihoon walked over to sit down next to him. They were silent for a moment before Mingyu began telling him about the day he’d had at school. The chatter was a nice distraction, and while Jihoon had started making a conscious effort to give more input when interacting with Mingyu after learning how he felt about it, he couldn’t do it today. He was too anxious about Soonyoung. Mingyu noticed, frowning at him.
“I’m sure hyung will be okay,” he said, shaking the chip bag in Jihoon’s direction, prompting him to eat more. “We can call him, and text him and stuff.”
“Yeah,” Jihoon murmured back. Mingyu reached towards him, Jihoon unsure of what Mingyu was trying to do but not wanting the contact, leaning away. Mingyu noticed his expression, and stopped.
“We’re working on the Mr. Simple choreography,” he said after the strange, silent moment. “You know, like we are in practice. We haven’t made very much progress though; hyung gets too distracted by the details and stuff. So I know the beginning of it really well, but by the middle of the song I get lost again.”
“Want to try learning all of it, then?” Jihoon asked, and Mingyu’s expression was hesitant, clearly intimidated by the proposed workload. Jihoon popped another chip into his mouth. “I don’t notice all of the stuff that Soonyoung does. But it would be good to get kind of like, a rough version of the whole thing, right?”
“I mean, I guess so,” Mingyu allotted.
“Alright.” Jihoon gave the bag back to Mingyu; there were two chips left, Mingyu opening his mouth wide and tilting them, as well as all of the crumbs, into his mouth before closing it with a loud crunch.
“You’re gross,” Jihoon told him, but Mingyu just grinned.
Teaching Mingyu was pretty easy. Mingyu was very ready to learn, and Jihoon felt more relaxed than he’d expected to be in his teaching role simply because he was inarguably better than Mingyu was, making it easier to feel confident in what he was talking about. It was a nice change; when he was dancing with Soonyoung, Seungcheol, and the other Pledis Boys, he couldn’t help but feel like he was fighting to hold his own. He’d been getting better—he’d been having more and more fun with dancing, Soonyoung’s love for dance not just terminal, but infectious too—but with Seungcheol being ahead of him in training and Soonyoung’s ability to just move, the gap still felt a bit too noticeable for Jihoon to be comfortable with it.
Mingyu, though, was comfortable. He had Jihoon relaxing, had Jihoon laughing; sometimes it was on purpose and sometimes it was on accident, but he always grinned proudly at Jihoon either way. Between the fact that he was teaching and Mingyu’s clear desire to do well, there was a simple framework for Jihoon to give praise, able to do it more easily than he usually would, when he had to say nice words unprompted.
About an hour in, despite it being the end of a long day after a long week, Jihoon realized that he was having fun. He considered joining Mingyu and Soonyoung again the next week, casting the thought aside as soon as he’d had it. It probably wouldn’t be like this, wouldn’t be the same calm, playful thing it was now. Not with Soonyoung there too, and Jihoon feeling more like an intruder.
“I’m happy that you’re smiling,” Mingyu told him, the words offhand and seeming unplanned in how random they were. Jihoon blinked at him in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“You were so upset earlier.” Mingyu pouted out his bottom lip a bit, and Jihoon couldn’t tell if it was a reaction of how Jihoon’s distress had made him feel, or a parody of Jihoon himself. “But you look really nice when you’re smiling!”
Jihoon frowned at him. “What?”
“You’re so cute!” Mingyu told him, his mouth open in a laugh, and that was definitely teasing, Jihoon ignoring the urge to kick him like he would with Soonyoung and crossing his arms instead.
“Shut up.”
“I’m being serious! You’ve been kind of upset lately, it seems like.”
“Because Soonyoung—”
“I’m not talking about that.” Mingyu was looking a bit more serious now, and Jihoon didn’t know what he was trying to say. “Like at home sometimes, I don’t know, you act like there’s this… there’s this weight on you, or something. But it’s gone right now.”
It took a few moments of Jihoon wracking his mind for him to guess at what Mingyu was talking about, finally landing on what made the most sense: Seungcheol. Jihoon was trying to ignore it, but whenever he saw Seungcheol all tucked away with the other trainees that he was set to debut with, it put a spark of hurt in his chest, the reminder that Seungcheol was debuting soon. Especially now that they were in October, the next year only two months away. It was equal parts touching and concerning for Mingyu to have noticed that. It put the same apprehension in Jihoon’s chest that he’d felt when Amy had correctly guessed his crush; a fear that he was being too obvious. Too pathetic.
“It’s nothing,” he told Mingyu, wanting the topic dropped. Mingyu narrowed his eyes in an almost comical way, like he was a detective about to solve a mystery, and Jihoon didn’t want that at all. So he went and kicked Mingyu in the butt.
Mingyu yelped and jumped away from him, the reaction so cartoonish that it made the both of them laugh.
“Hey!” Mingyu protested, and he rushed at Jihoon with arms extended, his fingers finding Jihoon’s waist in retaliation, tickling his sides. Jihoon squawked and grabbed at his wrists, holding onto one. Mingyu got his other arm free, wrapping it around Jihoon’s abdomen and trying to lift him up off the ground.
“What are you doing?” Jihoon asked through laughs, wriggling and hitting his head against Mingyu’s shoulder, but Mingyu didn’t let him go.
“Haven’t you ever wrestled with anyone before?” Mingyu asked back, squeezing Jihoon around the middle so tight he squawked again.
“I don’t have any brothers,” Jihoon explained, breathless from being turned into an oversized squeaky toy, Mingyu’s hold on him loosening.
“I mean, I don’t either.” They were standing strangely close, Jihoon just a bit peeved with how much he had to tilt his chin up to look Mingyu in the face. “I have a little sister, though.”
He seemed distracted, Jihoon able to reach up and tug on Mingyu’s hair. He fully yelled, whining that hair was off limits, letting Jihoon go and jumping away. But he was smiling, his eyes on Jihoon’s own and his arms up defensively, his whole body poised like he was waiting for Jihoon to charge at him again. So Jihoon did, wild giggles leaving Mingyu’s mouth before Jihoon had even reached him.
Maybe it was that Mingyu’s only experience was wrestling with someone younger and undoubtedly smaller than him, but he was still notably gentle as he grappled with Jihoon, laughing more often than not, his nose scrunched up enough to show off his teeth when he smiled. Jihoon took advantage of his pliancy and it wasn’t long before Mingyu was rolled onto his back on the floor, his breath coming to him in gasping laughs, Jihoon kneeling next to him, attacking Mingyu’s sides with his fingers. Mingyu was squirming and trying to grab at his arms, his legs writhing, Jihoon considering sitting on one of them when Mingyu managed to twist his torso enough to kick off against Jihoon’s thigh, sliding himself across the floor, rolling onto his front and jumping to his feet. Jihoon went after him, slipping through the attempt Mingyu made to snatch him up, ending up behind Mingyu. He put his hands on Mingyu’s shoulders and hoisted himself up onto Mingyu’s back.
Mingyu yelled again, stumbling backwards, choking a little as Jihoon wrapped an arm around his neck. But he managed to right himself, gripping Jihoon under the thighs, doing a small bounce to resituate Jihoon onto his back. And then Jihoon realized that Mingyu was holding onto him, instead of him holding onto Mingyu. It would be harder to get away like this, and before Jihoon could try, Mingyu began to spin in a fast, tight circle. Jihoon let out a sound he’d never heard himself make, a squeaking sort of shriek, and he gripped tight to Mingyu’s shoulders, Mingyu’s laugh loud in his ear.
They were spinning quickly, Mingyu soon getting so dizzy that he stumbled again. He tripped first, Jihoon grabbing at him with a shout, then fell to one knee, but kept a hold on Jihoon until he was on the floor, falling to his side. Jihoon landed with one leg and one arm trapped under Mingyu, but he was laughing too hard to care. Mingyu rolled away from him, turning on the floor to face him, his form still spinning a bit as Jihoon’s dazed world tried hard to reorient itself.
Mingyu was completely breathless with laughter and he let his neck relax, his head tilting to touch the wooden floor, his eyes not leaving Jihoon’s face.
They didn’t do any more dancing after that, exhaustion settling into Jihoon’s body the longer he lay there, the feeling fully realized by the time the laughter died down. They cleaned up their stuff and headed out, Mingyu talking a bit as they made the walk back to the dorm. They were met with a myriad of concerned faces when they entered, and it took Jihoon a moment to realize everyone was looking at him.
“What?” he asked the room at large.
“Has Soonyoung called you?” Minhyun asked back.
“Me?”
“If he was going to call anyone, it would be you,” Jonghyun pointed out. Dongho was frowning at his phone. “He hasn’t answered any of our texts.”
“No, he hasn’t called me,” Jihoon said, the problem of Soonyoung back now to the forefront of his mind. He felt almost guilty about the time he’d spent laughing with Mingyu, when he had no idea if his best friend was okay or not. “I haven’t tried to call him, though.”
“It has to be something with his family, doesn’t it?” Minki asked. He and Seungcheol were on the floor in the living room, and he had his head on Seungcheol’s thigh. Seungcheol’s hand was on his shoulder, his fingertips just barely curled under the sleeve of Minki’s t-shirt. Jihoon stared at the skin-on-skin contact for a moment, then tore his eyes away.
“He got permission to be gone all weekend,” Youngmin told them. “I don’t know, it seems serious.”
At that, Jihoon’s stomach twisted with nerves. He pulled his phone from his bag, sending Soonyoung a handful of messages, asking if he was at home, if he was okay. They all sat up in the living room in an attempt to wait for a response, finally giving in at midnight when nothing came.
Jihoon woke to a text message, sent at almost three in the morning. It was better than nothing, but it didn’t really help much, either.
From: Soonyoungie
<3
Soonyoung was back on Sunday night. Jihoon was in the living room with Mingyu and Youngwon, the three of them working on homework together. He looked weary as he kicked off his shoes.
“Hyung!” Mingyu exclaimed, jumping up to hug him. Soonyoung accepted the hug, his eyes closing for a moment, but he still didn’t say anything, and once Mingyu let him go he continued to their bedroom, stopping for just a moment to reach down and pet Jihoon’s hair as he passed.
Thankfully he didn’t disappear, returning soon with his own schoolwork and sitting down next to them. The room was quiet, Jihoon desperate to ask what had happened, but the sigh Soonyoung heaved as he sat down, the uncharacteristic frown on his face, and the way he murmured “I really need to get this done,” had him holding his tongue. The mood was tense with expectation, especially with the glances Mingyu was sneaking in Soonyoung’s direction. Mingyu looked at him too, and Jihoon just shrugged in response.
Youngwon left as soon as he was finished with his schoolwork, clearly nervous about being accidentally involved in whatever was going on, saying a quick goodnight to them as he scooped his books up off the floor. When Jihoon finished his assignments he stayed, Mingyu staying too, Soonyoung finally closing his notebook with a long exhale and flopping onto his back on the floor. Again, Mingyu shot him an anxious look. Jihoon decided to speak.
“Soonyoung-ah?” At the sound of his name, Soonyoung opened his eyes, glancing at him. “Are you okay?”
Soonyoung was quiet for a long moment, Jihoon unsure if he would even answer. His lips finally parted but Mingyu cut him off before he spoke, quick and concerned.
“We were really worried about you! And you didn’t answer anyone’s calls, and…” He reached out, landing a light punch on Soonyoung’s knee. “You should have said something, hyung.”
“I, um…” Soonyoung rubbed hard at his face with his hands, then sat up. “Sorry. It was just hard, and I… I didn’t know what to say.”
“What happened?” Jihoon asked. Soonyoung paused again, putting his hands in his lap. He still seemed reluctant.
“My family is poor,” he finally said. Of all the things Jihoon thought Soonyoung would start with, that wasn’t it, and he didn’t know how to respond. “My dad tried to start a business a few years ago, and it didn’t go well, and… And it’s been hard, but with me being here and practicing and stuff, I didn’t know everything. They didn’t tell me, but… We lost our house.”
All Jihoon could do was blink at him. Mingyu looked absolutely stunned. Part of Jihoon had been expecting something like a death in the family, something he could offer condolences about. He hadn’t expected this.
“Oh,” he managed, and Soonyoung let out a breath, his eyes on his hands, which were still resting on his crossed legs. Mingyu reached over and took one, sliding his fingers between Soonyoung’s and squeezing. “That sucks.”
It was lackluster and Jihoon knew it, but thankfully Soonyoung let out a bit of a breathy laugh.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, it sucks. It really sucks. That’s why they’d been sending me my stuff, actually. There isn’t anywhere for them to put it. They’re going to sell most of it, I think. I convinced them to sell my bike, and I’m going to send back other things that I don’t mind them getting rid of. We talked a lot about whether I should stay here or quit, because I could help more if I quit, but… I’m selfish. They said it was okay. That they would still support me. So… So I came back.”
“We’re happy that you did hyung,” Mingyu said, and Soonyoung gave him a small smile.
“Thanks. I…” Soonyoung trailed off, seemingly giving up on whatever he’d been about to say with a small shake of his head. “Could you help me up? I’m really tired. I think I just want to go to bed.”
Mingyu used the hold he had on Soonyoung’s hand to get him standing, Jihoon standing with them.
“You’re not like… Homeless, right?” Mingyu asked. Jihoon shot Mingyu a look, worried that the question was insensitive, but Soonyoung just shook his head.
“No, just… In a smaller place. It’s good that I don’t have to live there too, because there’s not really any room for me.”
Mingyu nodded a bit, pulling Soonyoung in for another hug, which he returned. Then, inexplicably, he hugged Jihoon too, gathering his schoolwork from the floor and wishing them a good night.
Soonyoung turned to Jihoon when they were alone, the weary look back on his face. Jihoon stepped forwards, wrapping Soonyoung up in his arms, who seemed to go limp as he let out a sigh, his arms circling Jihoon’s waist. They stood like that for a long time.