#&solo

a high-pitched cooing voice assaults jaewon’s ears just before he feels and hears midas stop purring, and he plants a falsely-pleasant smile on his lips that reads get away from me right now plain as day to anyone looking at it. the woman in front of him is it, and neither is the friend behind her, whose incessant cooing is even higher-pitched and more headache inducing than the first woman’s. “ooooh, it’s so cute!” the first woman cries, and jaewon feels midas tense up -- he’ll start hissing if these idiots don’t bring their voices down an octave or so. jaewon can’t help but bristle too -- these are the exact kinds of people he hates at this cafe. animals aren’t its -- they have feelings and thoughts and desires just as much as humans do. they aren’t just some pretty toy to have around to coo at and snuggle with when it’s convenient. 

“can i hold it?” the second woman asks, and jaewon shrugs. 

“if he’ll let you,” he says simply, carefully enunciating on the he. midas would cooperate a lot more if jaewon took him off his head himself and handed him over, but he doesn’t entirely want him to cooperate right now  -- he’d be perfectly fine with the cat scratching their faces off. the woman lifts him gently from jaewon’s head, and damn, it looks like she’s held a cat before. midas is weak to a good ear scratch, too, so he melts as soon as she has him settled and scratches his ear. 

“aww, he’s purring!” she says, and jaewon can’t help but scowl while both women’s attention is on midas and not him. “is he up for adoption?” the forced smile is back on jaewon’s face before she even turns her head to look at him, but he’s a professional at faking it and she doesn’t notice a thing. 

“no, i’m afraid not,” he replies without thinking, though he doesn’t regret the lie from the moment it leaves his lips. “he’s already spoken for. we have plenty of other cats and kittens who are available, though,” he says in his best customer service voice, gesturing to the room at large, which is quite literally filled with cats lounging about. 

“well, i hope he’s going to a good home,” the second woman says, looking back to midas and smiling fondly as she scratches his ears. jaewon almost feels bad about lying to her, until he remembers that midas getting adopted would mean jaewon would likely never see him again. he doesn’t let himself feel bad after that. 

the woman soon sets midas down on the table and gives his back a long stroke before she and her friend walk away to find other cats to play with. jaewon immediately gathers midas in his arms, ignoring the cat’s meows of protest. “i have to go see haseul,” he says to the cat, petting him absently as he gets up and carries midas back to his usual tower in the corner. “don’t let anyone near you unless it’s me or haseul, alright?” he tells the cat, knowing that midas is smart enough to understand him and listen, and possibly to understand the significance of what just happened and what jaewon’s planning to do. “don’t let anyone take you away, got it?” he adds, giving midas’s ears one last scratch as he deposits him on the shelf of the tower. midas mews in response, and jaewon leaves without signing out on the front desk’s volunteer chart. 

he has to get to the dog cafe, and he has to pray that haseul is working right now. if she isn’t, he’ll wrangle her phone number out of someone and call her. he can’t do this without her -- it might be weird that they’re near strangers but they’ve already pretty much agreed to adopt a cat together but, hey, it’s a weird world that they live in. 

The past few months have felt like they’ve gone by faster and faster, foot pressed fully down on the gas pedal with no sign of letting up any time soon. Between her many jobs - cashier, aerial instructor, model, cam girl, etc. - it had been almost difficult to find time to get to her newest job. Dance lessons, singing lessons, recordings, photo shoots, PR meetings, teaser trailer shooting, getting ready to debut as a pop idol has been no small feat. But her first album is about to drop and a concert tour of Japan is already in the works and Yako’s about to become famous.

So take that Sakura and Saita.

It doesn’t help that there are always men around fawning over her and doting on her every perceived need. Stalking her. There will be more of that after her debut, she’s certain of that much. Her manager and stylists and whatnot have all told her as much. It comes with the territory. Yako had very sweetly told them that she could handle it, but had given no indication of just how well she could handle it. Which is very well, considering there are only two people in the world who know that she usually has a switchblade strapped to her thigh. For emergencies, of course.

Altogether, it gives her very little time to see Ruyi, which has left Yako on edge. But in order to maintain appearances, she keeps up her sweet girl act among all of the right people, slowly building a very secret folder of pictures she had started keeping of pictures she had sneakily took of her favorite doctor. It’s not many just yet, but it’s enough to calm her down when she feels her patience slipping. And she’s gotten better at maintaining and regaining her composure over time.

But finally the time has come, and Yako makes sure to text links to her shoots, teaser videos, dance practices, etc. so that everyone on the island knows exactly why she’s about to disappear half the time. But she will always be back. Mount Phoenix is her home. Or at least, her home lives here too. And stalkers can’t follow her here, not unless they are very special stalkers indeed.

it’s almost scary, this walk to her house. on any other day jongdae would’ve felt as though he was on top of the world, fearing nothing. but it’s different now, an exposure has caused him the loss of confidence; the loss of trust.

he knocks on her door, heart thumping against his chest and the nervousness that arises in him this time is unfamiliar. it’s almost reminiscent of the first time he’d visited her, seventeen year old hands in his pocket and eyes glazed over with nothing but worry –– worry that they’d be caught, that he’d gotten himself into something disastrous (and oh, he did).

“you’re here,” is the first thing she says when he she opens the door. they lock eyes and jongdae can tell that she’s been drinking –– one of those expensive as fuck wines she’d once dragged him into tasting ( ‘i’m not a fan of alcohol,’ he had said after a few sips. ‘maybe coke or sprite.’ )

“yeah. i’m coming in, it’s getting cold.”

it’s not. it’s summer and the heat is prickling against jongdae’s skin but he wants to be away –– away from anybody, simply far. 

she says nothing and jongdae takes her silence as judgement. he almost wants to ask her if she’s okay but there’s a lump in his throat and the knowledge that it had been none other than baekhyun that had exposed him (exposed them) like that has left him speechless for the longest time.

“it was your friend,” she’s the first to speak up and jongdae can only sigh, the truth sometimes felt better left unsaid. “i had a feeling about him jongdae. i knew that he hated us being together ––”

“yeah and with reason too,” this time it’s jongdae who cuts her off, a headache beginning to build up. god, as much as he hated alcohol he could do with some right about now. “noona, what we have isn’t any good and you know that. you know that we shouldn’t be doing this. maybe baekhyun was right.”

and they’ve had this conversation before, multiple times even. but it’s always the same. jongdae brings up the cancellation of this relationship of theirs –– that it isn’t right because she’s married and as much as jongdae loves her (or believes that he does) it’s an affair and jongdae doesn’t want to play the role of a home wrecker.

but then she’s leaning in like she is now, hands against his hips, soft breasts pressing against his chest and suddenly it’s hard to think again. “no baby, no,” she grips onto him and her eyes soften. the fear of losing jongdae is written all over her face and jongdae can’t find it in himself to run. “baby what would i do without you? baby please ––”

he sighs, attempts to pull her hand away from him but her grip grows tighter and suddenly her head is pressed against his chest as well and jongdae finds his heart growing weaker. 

“baby i only have you in this world. you know that right? i don’t care about that stupid rumour! or that stupid friend of yours! i just want you.”

he’s not stupid, jongdae nearly says but suddenly she’s leaning forward and their lips meet. the kiss is deep and as much as jongdae knows how terribly wrong this is for the both of them he relishes in it, sighs softly into the kiss. but she’s forceful, pushes him against the wall and jongdae hates this part the most –– the part where he gives in, where she won’t let him speak and instead overpowers him with her body, her movements; an intoxication that jongdae wishes he could get over.

his hands slide underneath her thin shirt and this skin is familiar (has been familiar for years), the next part is as well, he nips at her bottom lip, mouth finding their way against the crook of her neck.

what comes next though, is uncalled for.

“what the fuck is this?!” 

they stop –– it’s a voice that jongdae’s heard before, a voice he’s only heard through the speaker phone. and when he turns he’s greeted by a face that he’s only ever seen in family portraits, in his girlfriend’s phone (her wallpaper had always been something that ached at jongdae’s chest. he’s wondered before why it couldn’t have been a picture of them together).

immediately he pulls away, eyes widening and it’s as though his biggest fear has come true. the man is well built, at least a good ten years older than him and he’s dressed in a suit. he smells of high end cologne and the briefcase he carries is large reminder of his social status. 

he is everything that jongdae is not (and never will be).

the impact comes quickly, jongdae only sees a fist and then nothing. he feels himself gasping for breath next only to realize that he’s on the floor, a man about twice his body weight above him. 

“get off ––” he struggles to say but the man doesn’t stop.

“who the fuck ––” the punch onto his gut hurts the most and they come periodically, “ –– you’re the one they’ve been talking about?”

jongdae can’t see, his vision blurry, but the man atop him has blood shot eyes, his teeth reminding him of that of a hungry lion. jongdae grabs at the man’s wrist, attempts to pull him off and it only works momentarily. because the at the next second he’s slammed against the wall, fist pounding into his stomach and jongdae coughs aloud, spit leaving his lips.

“you’ve been fucking my wife?”

he thinks he sees red but maybe it’s the light.

“that kid wanted you to have a good beating right?”

I hope the husband of this married Bitch finds out about her affair with Jongdae and gives them both a good beating.

jongdae doesn’t answer, suddenly the clenching in his chest, the reminder that it had been baekhyun –– baekhyun –– who had exposed him like this, numbing the intensity in his stomach.

“yeah well you’re going to get one right now. tell him that his fucking wish came true.”

and then he laughs, amidst the blood running down his nose, the loss of feeling in his stomach and his girlfriend yelling at her husband to stop, jongdae laughs. because jongdae has always been baekhyun’s right hand man anyway, would do anything to make his wish come true.

(his laughter throws the husband off. in retaliation he punches him against the mouth. the bruise stays and jongdae thinks he won’t be able to speak or sing very much for a while.)

      –––––––––––––––––––––––– **

he leaves the house with difficulty walking, ends up by the side of the road to calm the stinging near his abdomen. the sun is hardly out by the time he’s left and jongdae can only struggle to reach across his cheek, rub at the bruise.