gia.

 Under the beautiful night sky that almost seems indifferent to everybody, you had a feeling that the night that started off so beautifully quiet was unusual. 

 Maybe because of the man that seated himself near you, Na Jaemin, whose fingers held onto that cigarette with wandering eyes that never seem to be still, but full of the aching storm inside that could make the sky cry even on the sunniest day. 

“You want some?” He asked, reaching for his pocket that was stacked with god knows the amount of cigarettes and the wallet that you didn’t dare ask about.

“You know I don’t smoke.” You replied, almost finding it comical that he was always so polite about sharing his cigarette with you, and you turned it down every time, except that one time, after a particular stressful moment. 

 You recalled— you were stressed about your work, per usual. But your frustration reached a boiling point, and like the good friend he is, he came over and made you forget about all of it through his passionate kisses and rough coupling. And it was cliché of you to want to try to get a whiff of what nicotine in the system can do for you— which ended up making you sober out of that pleasure high that you received from sex. That was your first and last experience with cigarettes. 

“But why did you call me here?” 

 He looked beautiful under the moonlight, the sin that held you close, but you couldn’t reach for his heart. You both thread between the lines of friends and something more, although it’ll be too destructive to come together as one. 

“Just to watch the sky, y’know.” 

 The way he answered it made you feel like he wanted to show you something more personal than the occasional hookups that only occured one in the blue moon.

“I see them. They look pretty like usual.” You looked up, the sky was radiant with constellations as the streets of Seoul hadn’t calmed down from vehicles or noises at all. In fact, at almost 12 am like this, it was the busiest time for nightlife participants. 

 He chuckled, as if he knew something that you didn’t. 

 At the time, you didn’t understand why. 

“Yeah.” He replied, that half hearted smile that never reached his almost dead eyes. His soul was barely there. 

 You’re a bright person, but far from innocent. And Jaemin was the opposite of what you are. Not only is he broken, but he’s also full of the sins that he carried within his fingertips. Who knows where his hands had been, besides wrapping around your body. 

“Do you think little stars are so insignificant?” He questioned, the wind blew and made his fluffy dyed blonde hair, now started to show his roots, and it seemed that he didn’t bother getting it retouched at all. Somehow, it added to his mysterious allure. 

“No. But, why do you ask?”

 With Jaemin, it’s almost impossible to have a small conversation with him. He has always been a deep thinker and you enjoy listening to him. Truthfully, he opened your eyes to the perspective of life. 

“Just that… not many people paid attention to them.” He shrugged as a smoke blew past his lips. 

 That night, you wondered why he asked that question. 

 You’ve known Jaemin for 3 years now. Your very first encounter with him was on the day you just finished your final high school exams, meeting him at the convenience store around night time as you sadly stared at the display of alcoholic beverages that you weren’t able to get. He only noticed your presence because you spent your time circling around the aisle of those drinks, but was hesitant to even consider purchasing one, while you recalled that he was shopping for his drinks and cigarettes. The night went by in a blurry light, with the introduction of him being a year older, was a freshman college at that time and the promise to buy you the drinks as soon as you’re legally able to drink, and you agreed. 

 He stuck to his promise and he did buy you one, the best brand that he had ever tasted, according to him. And you liked it, too. 

 Over time, you came to know that Jaemin wasn’t just a man whose cuts and tattoos littered all over his skin, his sadness lingered too, like an alluring nightmare disguised as heaven. You quickly got used to being near a company that brought nothing but the quiet chaos into your otherwise, regular life. He carried a lot of secrets that you only vaguely knew from the hints of shared conversations and moments where you both were alone— whether in his bed, yours, the rooftop, or any other places. He’s not a man of confrontation, or admittance. You pieced the pieces together, coming to your own conclusion. It was his secret way to tell you what his thoughts were and his life updates. 

“I’m jealous of the stars.” He murmured, and you mentally agreed. 

“Hmm, me too.”

 There was a silence that paused the moment, as if the earth refused to spin any further. After a long moment of quietness, he spoke again. 

“The stars aren’t indebted to anybody.”

 You nodded, but you never pressed further. He’d tell you more when he needed to. When he’s ready. 

 That night, you both shared a kiss under the stars that blinked at the perhaps blossoming romance, as he tasted like nothing but pain and the incoming heartbreak, which you find to be addictive and almost hypnotizing. 

 Na Jaemin was, and is, irresistible. 

 But you should’ve held onto him, your friend a little longer. If only you knew what happened next. 

 Because as the sun rose and teared through the sky of the ever so busy city, you got awoken to the morning light that invaded through the curtains in the comfort of your own bed after you solemnly left the stargazing rooftop to go home. A sticker note, adorn with a handwriting that you recognized all too well, appeared on your nightstand, as if it had never left. 

‘Don’t look for me. I’ll be gone for a while. Hide when you hear my voice. - NJM.’ 

The message was vague, but you, it was loud and clear. 

And you realized that your intuitions were correct— the little insignificant things he said during the talks, now becoming so clear to you. He was expressing something that only now you can piece it together after his absence from your life. 

 He didn’t just run away from you– he chose to run away from his current life as the weight of his struggles and what you can only assume, him being indebted to many, finally caught on to him. And for your safety, you shall not look for him anymore. You just have to accept that he has been a wonderful chapter of your life for the 3 years you spent with him, even if it only enriched you in experiences of addiction to forbidden men like him. 

 But you know that such an enigma like himself wouldn’t be forgotten by you. And you’d spend moon phases after moon phases, wondering about his whereabouts and can only hope for his return one day. Maybe for a year, maybe your entire life. 

 But only time knows when you’ll get over it. 

“Are you sure that he’s coming?” Your friend asks, her arms crossing as she looks at you with skepticism. 

“I’m sure. The news is all over the campus.” You say, masking your own fear behind the confident and nonchalant persona that you think you have mastered over the years. 

“Well…” She trails off, before slowly stepping out of the kitchen and she picks up one of the lighters to do god knows what. 

 As the neon lights that are installed from every corner of the room flashes across everybody’s faces, making them look alluring like stars under the spotlight and the sounds of people talking pass by your ears, you are reminded of how you got here.  

 Let’s start at the very beginning.  

 You recalled, the second semester in your first year of university, where you thought that your regular life would proceed with the usual boring, mundane and predictable routines, becomes much spicier. 

 As you sat in your seat for your first lecture of the day, and only had 7 minutes left until the professor entered the classroom, you saw a man who walked into the lecture hall with confidence and his head held high, headphones covering both of his ears, as his washed denim jacket and the white plain shirt tucked loosely and ragged against his skin in a way that suggests that he knows a thing or two about dressing up. You were face to face with the most beautiful man you’ve seen, who will be your classmate. Your first impression of him was that he must’ve been a confident person, maybe even someone who socializes and interacts with others quite often, a friendly person. 

 You hoped to get to know him better. 

 By the second year, as you continued to share classes with him, and being in the same class as him for many months made you realize that your first impression was the opposite of him. Sure, he was kind, but he keeps to himself a lot, and he hangs with a circle of people, who are all popular. This made you distressed, actually. You might’ve had some excuses to get close to him if he was more outgoing, but he wasn’t.  

 So you spent the next two years silently admiring him from afar, even actually went as far to change your ways. Although you are quiet, also remain in the background at first and never quite fond of parties, as you prefer to do real night outs like at abstract places or places buzzing with extreme energy, you slowly find yourself going to parties that his friends throw. 

 Then, there was an incident in the 3rd year of college, where you recalled that it was your second party of the school year, where you also smoked weed for the first time. Lame. You know. But you typically don’t ever indulge in them, mainly only alcohol and cigarettes on the side. But he tasted like marijuana and the love that you’ve harbored for him all this time as your tongue slipped down his throat in the dingling bathroom that shone of bright blue neon lights, inside Chan’s house. 

 It never went further than that. 

 You both kissed. And kissed. You both did this when the opportunities arose, which is whenever the conversation took a different direction, and occasionally hung out where he was the one to call first. It’s quite impressive that you both go this long without getting physical. 

 It’s a routine that you never get used to, but always looking forward to. You both hardly made out, but you both talked to each other quite a lot, for people who had no affiliations and thread on the lines of strangers, friendship and romantic relationship. You’d notice— sometimes, he showed up at the parties, sometimes, he didn’t. Admittedly, you were disappointed, as you put on the prettiest dress and so much effort was wasted just for it to not be seen by him. 

 You felt like you were being played, and even your friend tried to knock some sense into you. 

“I told you a million times. He’s playing with your feelings.” Your friend, Sooyoung, reminded you again as you did your makeup for a party that you heard that he’d attend. 

“I know.” You muttered in annoyance, even though your friend was right about it. In your head, you’d 

“And you do the same thing, every time.” She complained as she watched you repeat the process of dolling up, it wasn’t surprising to her at all, but like normal human’s nature, she herself got exhausted as she watched you stuck in a cycle of unreciprocated love. 

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” You questioned, rolling your eyes as the brushes stroked against your skin. Sooyoung looked at you with her judgmental stare, her tongue spelled it out, loud and clear. 

“Sort of.” 

 That was the conversation that you had with her. It’s a mantra at this point. 

 And every time that she was right, each time after the party ended, you went home and wallowed in self pity and inferiority. And Sooyoung watched you being pathetic and hopeless like that, but you just wouldn’t listen. 

 You’re determined to change it today. 

 That’s why you managed to convince Sooyoung to help you with the party preparations. And she swore up and down that this is the only time she’d ever help you if you did something for Vernon to notice you. 

 Your parents’ house, now left empty for days now, has transformed from a living space into a place for entertainment, void of treasures and valuables that could be stolen or broken, as you locked them away. 

 How… pathetic you are, throwing a party for a guy who you’re in this weird talking stage with. 

 You put on the shortest dress, one that makes even the less-than-holier you feel uncomfortable. But really, for the sake of him, you’re willing to endure the discomfort. And your lipstick was carefully applied and curated in a way that makes your lips kissable, in hope that he would find it hard to not be kissing you until nothing around you both mattered.  

 The sound of kisses, laughter and music fill your ear, but you tune it out as you stand in the kitchen, directly facing the front door, even from the very back away. With this place, you can effectively monitor the event and also see the newcomers of the party firsthand, as quickly as you can. You have nothing on you, not even the drink, because you wanted to be sober enough to see his face. You can’t afford to be so drunk that you’ll be throwing yourself at a guy because he looks just like Vernon, or you made it all up. 

 Time passes by quick, as quick as the time that it took for you to realize that you harbored more than a feeling of admiration for that boy you saw in your first year of college, as quick as your impulsivity to throw this party, just to have him come to your house. 10, 20, 30, 40, and 57 minutes passed by since it started, yet you can hardly spot even his friends walking through that door first. 

 60, 70, 80 passed and there’s anybody but him passing through that door. You start to get impatient and anxious. You try so hard to not bite on your now manicured nails, you want Vernon to notice all those pretty little charms on your nails, in hope to be appealing to him. 

 There’s a nagging in at the back of your head that goes; 

 What if he doesn’t show up?

 Then it would mean nothing, would it? 

 What do you even call him? He’s not your friend with benefits. And certainly not your boyfriend, far from an acquaintance or just merely a classmate. But are you friends with him? 

 99 Minutes has passed, you let out a sigh as the night grows older. 

 You remember today that it was a full moon, and even if you don’t believe in anything like manifesting, you make a prayer. You close your eyes and make a wish for every second that counts. 

 May he show up. May he return your feelings.  

 If only he shows up exactly on the 100th minute.  

 You open your eyes, and you’re met with the striking figure that has stolen your breath 4 years ago. At the same time, it has been 100 minutes since you’ve waited for him. Just as you wish. 

He came through that door like a star, shining bright in the sky, out of your reach, only letting you admire his beauty before he walked out again. 

 His hair has been dyed back to brown, after a period of him bleaching it in a dark blonde. This hair color makes him look even more unattainable, to you. It highlights his beauty and his deep set eyes so beautifully that you’re left to stare at the universe's creation, who knows your name, and exists in the same time as you, but not your heart. 

 That’s what love does. It breaks your heart but you can’t stop wanting him. 

 He comes with a few friends, you think you see Wonwoo, the most introverted person ever, comes out of his hibernation. There is probably something in the stars, but you don’t want to overthink things. You also spot Soonyoung, the most introverted person, tags along. It’s like they’re there to balance Vernon tonight, seeing the polar opposites of them both. 

 The metal necklace around his neck, which you instantly recognize that it’s from a brand that he has been wanting to get for quite awhile, as you remember this fact from one of the talks with him, the washed, rough looking denim jacket and jeans, and a tank top that has texts written all over, which you couldn’t be bothered to read, as you are distracted by the man that you’re at least 20 feet away from. Vernon greets the people who greet back to him, but keeps the interaction short and almost professional, as if it wasn’t his intention to get to know new people.

“So, are you going to talk to him?”

“Jesus, you can’t warn me beforehand?” You lose your balance and stumble backward as Sooyoung’s voice snaps you out of your daze when looking at the man who is in your vision. You feel like an invisible wall has been built just for you both to act like nothing has happened. You don’t know when she will even come back.

“You throw a party for him but you won't even talk to him? Really?” She looks at you like a disappointed mother, and honestly, she probably is. “You know this is your last chance.”

 Right, it’s so goddamn close to the graduation period. And nobody, including him, will attend parties by then. They’ll be too busy studying. 

 You roll your eyes, fed up by her, but you just lack the courage, as you fear rejection more than silence. But it also kills you to not know what he is thinking about, or his opinion on you. He’s too calm and stoic, while you're an open book of an emotional mess.

“Give me a blunt or alcohol first, maybe I’ll find it in me to go and finally say it.” You say it as a joke, but Sooyooung doesn’t take it so lightly. She just silently opens the cabinet and reaches for a plastic cup, then fills it with some soju, while her face shows that she reaches her breaking point. 

 You can only stare at her in horror. She means business.

“You can’t complain that you’re nervous now, here.” You got handed a drink and like a grateful friend you are, you just sadly thank her, and then gulp down, finishing the first cup after a while.

 After 3 cups of it, as served by your friend, you finally find it in you to go and walk around to Vernon, who is seemingly standing in the corner, on his phone and keeping an eye out for Hoshi and apparently, also Seokmin, who you have no idea when did he get here. Nonetheless, you pick a place, standing not too close to him, leaning against the wall, trying to not show the significance of his presence in your brain.

“Hi.” You smile awkwardly as Vernon seems to finally snap out of his daydream or train of thoughts. “Sorry I’m late to greet you. As a host, that’s impolite.”

 You try to insinuate subtly that this party is not just any party, it’s yours, one that you threw it in hope for him to come.

 Surprisingly, Vernon smiles back, he didn't seem disappointed, and he seems to be in quite a friendly mood. 

“I know, that’s why I came.”

 You swear that you’re delusional but that’s… crazy to hear it. It makes it sound like he came to this party because you throw it.

“Really? I guess the rumors go around as intended.” You chuckle, trying to extend the time you have with him. “Is the party to your liking? I throw it for the first time, so I’m quite nervous.”

 You're lying, you’re more nervous about your crush right here, you’re not worried that the party isn't good, but you want the party to be good for him,  

“No. The party is really fun.” He reassures you and you can tell that it comes from his heart, so the tension from your body slowly eases out little by little. “But I don’t feel like doing anything, so I’ll sit and watch.”

 Your smile subtly drops. Should you celebrate the fact that he isn’t so drunk by now that he most likely will kiss someone or upset that he doesn’t think it’s cool enough to let loose? You put on that plastered, perfect subtle smile to hide that growing ugly feeling of disappointment that attempts to eat you. 

 You almost ask him why he even bothered to come to your party then. 

“I guess I’ll do the same then.” You shrug it off, biting the inside of your tongue lightly, preventing yourself from utter more words that would ruin the mood. 

“Hmm.” He nods, then he looks at you, like he always has been. You just never notice it, but he sneaks glances at you. “Did you do something to your hair?”

 You can’t hide your expression that goes from stunned to one filled with happiness. So he notices that your hair has been dyed as you needed a new change in appearance and even completed with slight curls. 

“Oh yeah I did. The color fades away so I dyed it.” 

 The last time he saw you properly (and last time you both kissed) was at least a month ago. Since then, Vernon appeared less and less in your line of sight and you thought that you lost him for good, but he still shows up to his classes, just that he barely goes to parties for unknown reasons. 

 You both fall into a comfortable silence, from outsiders’ perspective. From your perspective, it’s as awkward as it comes, but you have to pretend that you don’t enjoy being near him, even if the atmosphere was nothing short of platonic. If only they know the history that you both share together.

 You inch yourself closer to him, doing ever so subtly, by pretending that it’s all accidental, but you might've been too eager, and he can probably tell that you faked your nonchalance around him. 

 Something about him tonight seems different– he talks less, and he lingers his stares to spaces that you can only imagine, or hope it involves you. You missed the taste of cannabis, the liquor whether it’s cheap or highly sought after because it’s the finest drink on earth, nicotine, or soda; anything really, as long as it sits on his lips, and his tongue allows yours to intertwine like he’ll never let this go. But with the way the silence seems to be stilling everything around you both, even if your own party turns obnoxious and chaotic, you still yearn for the excitement that he can give you. 

The pink balloons start float around, and you don’t remember setting it up at all, in fact, you don’t remember seeing this many balloons in your life in a single space, but when you see Sooyoung just keeps bringing them more and more, and the sound of music and music goes from a mild to extreme joy and recklessly wild, you know that it’s getting out of control. You do nothing to stop it. 

 Vernon suddenly nudges you, then you only by then notices that he took sips of champagne, and you have no idea who provided him that. But as his lips are pressed to the glass, you are reminded of how his kisses usually taste like, and it has you wondering, wanting to know what it feels like if you kiss him right now. You wonder, would it taste sweet, or would the champagne taste like a sour heartbreak that you only can swallow it down with every will that you have?

“Can we talk somewhere private for a bit?”

 Is he finally addressing the tension and the weird relationship that you have going on?

 You feel like you need another drink, but the alcohol finally hits a little after a long while, so it washes some of your doubts away. It really boosts that confidence, while you’re less than completely sober. 

“Oh sure.”

 You follow his lead, and it was really somewhere, so goddamn quiet and secluded, in fact, nobody would’ve come to check the available spot here at all. The fact that it was upstairs made your mind run with wild thoughts but you calmed yourself down, not wanting to get your hopes up, just to be let down.

“You look like you’ll be cold.” He says, inspecting you as he takes off his jacket, and it drapes all over your figure, providing an additional warmth to your body– and maybe even heart. 

 You don’t understand why he’s so nice all of the sudden. You both barely talk, what was the last meaningful conversation you had with him again?

“Why-”

“I-”

 You both speak at the same time, interrupting each other. Vernon, the man that he is, speaks up, his voice is deep, husky and brings this weird emotional feeling to you.

“You go first.”

 You sigh, searching for the look in his eyes that he somehow feels the same as you do. You’re met with the familiar warmth, which makes it hard to read. Why does he look at you like this? You hate that he isn’t an open book, unlike you.

“Why are you so nice to me?” You question him, voice wavers from the underlying vulnerability that threatens to surface and spills over any time soon, if you don’t have a hold of it. “You’re so confusing, I don’t understand you.” You bite your lips, trying to hold back from becoming an unpleasant memory to him.

 For the first time ever, his eyes flicker with an emotion– there’s confusion and almost… affection, but also hurt. You both have been walking on this weird line that blurs between a normal and intimate relationship, one that doesn’t hold any value or title but so much substance yet with no filling. It’s like chasing a high that never stops. And you hate chasing it, you want a definite answer now.

“Because…” He looks at your face, observing how there is an expression of melancholy, regret and shame. “You have always been there, you have always been someone to me.”

 Your face drops, again, but he is quick to clarify.

“I came to this party because you threw it.” He gulps, and you see the facade that he works so hard to build starts to crack, little by little. “Because it is you, it has always been.”

 He inches closer to you, and the tears now are filling your visions as you finally hear the confirmation, which he cups your face gently and wipes it away.

 You cry as you feel his gentle touch, this is what you were dying to hear, but the ‘I love you’ hangs in the air like a ghost, even as the pink balloons and the DJ mixes fly around to accompany this newly changed atmosphere between the two of you. You close your eyes, and then re-open, confessing it to him. No more games, no more pretense. 

“I threw this party, just for you. I was hoping that you would come and see me.”

 He looks at you like you just hung him the moon, and his hands gently fall to caress your soft lips now. You know what he wants, you both want it, but there is too much to talk about.

“Then you succeeded. I couldn’t miss my chance to see you either.”

 You really almost wanted to cry, fuck. He’s too sweet. You’re glad that you both are on the same page. 

“Do you remember the first time we talked?” 

“…”

“You probably don’t remember…” Vernon mutters, looking disappointed and you just pout in his hold. All his moodiness disappears, he can’t ever be mad at you.

“Mr. Song’s class, that’s the first time we talked.”

You remember that it was the first semester of the second year, that one time he got sick and he ended up reaching out to you through a friend of a friend to send over the class’ materials that he greatly missed. The interaction was short lived and so insignificant to you that you blocked it from your memory. You feel like shit for not remembering it.

“I make excuses to see you, and kiss you every time. I feel sorry that I took advantage of our friendship… like that.”

“Friends don’t kiss.” You state, your eyelashes batting so prettily as your heart beats wildly, syncing with his. “And I’d like to kiss you again.”

 This time, he pulls you closer, and then you feel it– the kiss you have been waiting for. Your eyes are closed in contentment, feeling like jello. You finally know what is the taste and flavor that sits on his tongue– the finest champagne there is out there, and it tastes like addiction and the future with him that you hope will become a reality as you wake up next to him onward.

 As the neon lights cast a shadow, changing colors constantly from blue, pink, purple, and everything in between, so are your swirling thoughts, but they only involve him, and the same goes to the man who can’t get enough of the taste on your tongue, which mirrors his, despite you drinking a pretty cheap alcohol that slowly fades away as his tongue acts as a cleanser, attempting to vacuum it away. 

 Once the oxygen runs out and the unbearable urge to breathe consumes you both again, you pull away, your body trembles slightly in exhaustion due to prolonged makeout session. The intense high you try to chase through kissing seems too far out of reach now, but at least you have your answer now.

“I love you, Y/N.”

 You don’t have to say it back, you never have to, as you reach over to kiss him on the lips, now incoherent and too drunk on the taste of his tongue. 

 And the neon lights switch to pink, celebrating the new relationship changes and a now clear definition between you both.

BONUS

“Hey, where did Vernon go?” Soonyoung asks Wonwoo, who’s lost in his own reality of god knows what. He didn’t even want to come, but Vernon bribes them with favors to pay for their lunch and that’s how the man himself got Wonwoo to come to this place.

“How would I know?” Wonwoo groans, and then a presence of an unfamiliar girl walks to them, she looks like she is looking for them both personally.

“Are you Soonyoung and Wonwoo?”

“Yeah. But who are you?” Soonyoung is quick, and Wonwoo’s soul already leaves his body, his exhaustion catches up to him.

“I’m Y/N’s friend, Sooyoung. Does that ring any bells?” 

 Soonyoung sits up, yes. Now he remembers why Vernon begs them to come to this fucking party. Sooyoung smiles at the flicker of the recognition in his eyes. He knows how you look, and you, but not the girl in front of him.

“Look over there.” She points to their right, which is the direction of the staircase, and Wonwoo, who wasn’t interested at first, follows her command, and then sees something unbelievable.

 Vernon, his arm slings around you, and even the jacket wraps around you. He knows, they know instantly that it has to be Vernon’s– nobody wears that DIY-stitched up jacket and the denim that got abused to the point it almost becomes white.

“Is that what I think it is?” Wonwoo questions, he looks like he couldn’t believe his eyes. He thinks to himself that Vernon would definitely get more annoying now that you both make it official. He definitely didn’t sign up for that.

“Yep.” Sooyoung’s voice confirms their suspicion– and the cherry on top? Vernon kisses your hand and cheeks, you both laugh as the purple light shines on you both, making you both look like the romantic leads in a play. The act that is too intimate for two people who sometimes hang out with each other.

“I’m going to kill him if they both start kissing now.” Is the last thing Soonyoung said before he turns away, ignoring the sight of you both. But they’re all happy for the both of you, even if it comes in the form of annoyance.

 Now both men just need to make sure that Vernon can pay their lunch fees now. After all, Vernon dug his own grave for suggesting the deal that he’ll totally get them expensive takeouts if you do happen to like him back.