#* solo.

this time, his family visits seoul, much to luciel’s annoyance, he is invited. it feels odd and strange, to be remembered. he hasn’t talked to them in a long while, until this family dinner that consisted of four people.

luciel doesn’t knows what to expect there, he puts on a nice set of clothes, styles his hair neatly and attends this peculiar family dinner. although, it feels more like he’s an uninvited guest to a family of three… supposedly. it seems that they have conveniently busied his older brother’s schedule, knowing that he would always try to take luciel’s side. so it ends up being the three of them, for now.

the mood is suffocating.

“so, what have you been doing?” his father asks, with a strange, and suspicious sense of calmness.

the words starts to die in luciel’s throat, and an invisible rope coils around his entire body. it’s only a question asked out of formalities, he’s sure that his parents would know exactly what he’s doing. they only want him to say it to their faces.

already, he wants to run away.

“… idol training,” luciel answers, as timidly as possible. two words that feels like he’s stepping over thorns to say. he expects to be ridiculed, pointed fingers at, whatever violent negative reaction he could have elicit out of them—and yet, the odd calm remains hanging in the air.

for a brief moment, there’s silence, accompanied by sips of a drink, as if his parents had expected this, expected that this child they picked up would eventually go astray. luciel’s mother breaks the silence, with a heavy sigh, filled with pure disappointment. “see? look what happens when we give him his freedom?”

“i could always bring him back,” his father responds.

that freezes luciel in his place. it was said so casually, as if luciel never had a choice in any of the decisions he has made in his life, and that for everything he’s doing—with just a word, he could have been locked inside a room, again. his efforts, the memories he made… project green would be reduced to five.

“luciel’s studies are doing fine, isn’t that right?” his mother ponders. “at the very least, he isn’t contracted to a small shady company.”

“it’s lime entertainment, it’ll be good if he could expand his social connections, especially if he goes worldwide and become a bridge for us.”

“i suppose you aren’t entirely useless, after all. if it doesn’t works out, come back to tokyo immediately after your graduation.”

“still, an idol of all things… it seems like we weren’t raising you well enough.”

to them, it’s a simple chat about the future, and how useful the child would be to them, as if they were talking about an object. luciel continues to put on a small smile, listening, playing the role of a good boy who broke some rules. “i’m sorry, father, mother. i’ll do my best.”

ignore everything. you did nothing wrong. you did something wrong. aren’t you ashamed?

the meaningless, agonising conversation continues. luciel’s parents continues to pry into his life, as if they were checking out every aspect of his life, so they could make decisions to do something about it. “are you getting into anything new? i really hope it’s not something as stupid as the idol thing again, luciel.”

there’s photography with a film camera, but it’s not something he can bring himself to tell them. there’s also composing songs, something luciel would never think he’s capable of doing. in the end, everything—it’s useless. so he answers, that practicing has taken up most of his time, so he hasn’t been able to get into anything new.

luciel, doesn’t feels like luciel.

he wants to run away, and fall.

…

after the suffocating dinner, luciel returns to his penthouse. it’s quiet, and he hasn’t been here in a while. he’s always appreciated the tranquility of it all, but tonight, it’s too quiet. he doesn’t brings himself to even sit at his sofa as he slumps down to the floor while leaning against the wall, feeling as if there’s still something crushing him.

taking out his phone, luciel tries to call someone.

the usual, childhood friend who’s supposed to be asleep at this hour. there’s no other voice he wants to hear.

“i want to see you,” softly, almost pleading desperately.

luciel had been dreamless for a long time, rarely ever chasing after dreams. when he first took his steps into the world of music, into the world of idols, there was envy. the envy of witnessing the passion of others firsthand, how hard they’ve been trying, again and again, to reach for a dream. he’s always been accepting of things; lines, screentime, positions, etc. he’s never wanted something. he simply goes with the flow, appreciates what he’s been given. it’s what he does best, playing the role of a grateful, good boy.

a performance, and then two, and then three — and then performing as a debut project. luciel now stands here, listening to the position reveals ( and of course, the earlier warning about sneaking out. he won’t be doing that again ), when he gets to know of his position, there’s somewhat of an empty feeling that remains in his chest.

it’s expected, he thinks. lead vocalist, it suits him.

another part of his mind haunts him, but it’s not main vocalist. it’s not perfect, it’s not the best, it’s not good enough. luciel knows it’s a realistic decision, and he had always preferred to not shine too much. it’s the ideal.

and yet, there was a sense of disappointment. since when has luciel started to want things? since when has he started to feel greed? it feels off-putting, and strange. he thinks about how he should had worked harder, thinks about how if he had the passion to chase after a dream, would he be less disappointed?

luciel bows his head appreciatively at the announcement.

a wish to stay warm in the cold, a wish to be picked up, a wish to be loved. they were all intangible, things that cannot be touched by his hands. those wishes will remain as wishes, because his wishes won’t come true.

luciel’s earliest memories was walking around in the snow, holding his mother’s hand. she told him to be a good boy and wait for her to pick him up later, and then he never saw her again. he doesn’t remembers her face anymore, nor her name. he only remembers it was cold. the cold winter brings nothing but the feeling of emptiness, there’s nothing pleasant about it. every year, the memory comes to remind luciel that he was abandoned, an unwanted and unloved child.

even then, luciel heads out in the cold winter. to search for someone, to search for his childhood friend who isn’t answering his messages. he knows the reason why. the tv or radio has been briefly commemorating the death of a former star, someone he used to call auntie.

he finds seonghan in a cafe, motionless and empty, as if he never lived. even then, a smile graces his lips. “i went on a date,” he says.

“you went on a date looking like that? i'll believe you.”

“it’s a once in a year kind of date.”

he takes a look at how his friend is dressed. extra layers and arm warmers, luciel knows it’s not merely because of the cold. he reaches his hand out and holds onto his arm, wanting to bring him to somewhere else, “this cafe's coffee isn't that great. i'll make you a better one.”

“haha, you’re holding onto me. like i’m going to disappear.”

luciel bites the inside of his lower lip, his grip growing stronger at that. “if i don’t hold onto you, you probably will.”

“would that be so bad?”

if baek seonghan were to disappear from luciel’s life as if he never existed, he’d wish, he could go with him. but seonghan wouldn’t let him. he’ll tiptoe around him, leave not even a footprint behind, and disappear into the rain.

wishes won’t come true. “i want you alive with me.” i wish, you’ll make me your reason to live.

there isn’t a place luciel has in mind, he drags seonghan along with him, into the dead winter. there’s nowhere for them to go, they don’t need a place to go. as long as they were together, even if seonghan were to let go of his hand, luciel would hold onto him tighter, as if they were never apart.

luciel asks the boy where he went, he talks about how he went on a winter date again. he doesn’t probs into it further, there’s only one place seonghan would go at this time of the year. “then, will you go on another one with me?”

“will you give me a choice?”

“you can refuse me if you want to. will you?”

it’s stupid, how their conversations goes in circles. oftentimes, seonghan dodges his questions, but today it’s a little different. he tells him that he doesn’t wants to answer him, and it frustrates luciel. throughout his life, seonghan has never been honest. to the latter, he thinks he’s throwing a tantrum, doesn’t thinks that his responses will bother luciel, doesn’t believes. even as he goes on about how it’d be the last time they’ll spend time together like this again, that luciel wouldn’t catch him amongst the audience as he remains on that blinding stage.

even in the midst of a dark rainstorm, seonghan will still laugh. “what are you thinking now, seonghan? that sounded like a fake laugh,” luciel mumbles, clearly displeased. every trace of that perfect, princely persona had disappeared from his face ( it’s not like he can keep it up in front of him, anyways ). childish, selfish, and foolish is all he feels like.

“i wonder. should i say i’m thinking of you?” luciel pauses at that. once again he has fallen for seonghan’s words, like a mindless fool.

wishes. i wish you were mine, i wish i was yours, i wish you will look at me.

“it’s cold today,” seonghan continues.