#jpu.writes

Your agreement comes in the form of an exhausted groan. This is the latest you’ve ever come home, and she knows it. It’s nearly half past eleven, and you’re only back already because you didn’t have to wait ages for the subway to show up at the stop. Thank god, you think, plopping yourself down on the small couch.

“What are you making?” you ask.

“Garlic pasta. Want some? I promise it’s really good.”

You decline it, saying you’ve had a late dinner at work. Ayun frowns. What you don’t tell her is that your appetite has been long gone, ever since you opened your family group chat to a picture of your parents with Joshua.

Look who’s back! read the message from your father underneath it, with a smiling emoji. We miss you. Visit soon!

In fact, you hadn’t told Ayun about Joshua at all. You didn’t want to speak his name, let him out into the city of Boston. He wasn’t yours in LA, and he definitely isn’t yours in Seoul, but maybe he can be here. You keep him to yourself, guarded like a secret nobody else will ever understand.

Because they can’t, really, no matter how much you explain. Ayun might nod along and pat your back, but she won’t truly get it. 

She wasn’t there when he left, and Los Angeles had never felt emptier. Or when you left, too, without looking back. There is no way to explain how it feels to have your feet on the Atlantic Coast while your heart is somewhere in South Korea. 

So you don’t, shaking your head and mumbling that you’re alright when she asks. You leave a heart reaction on the picture.

I will, you text back. 

A lie, and by now your parents probably know it, too. It has been a year and a half since you set foot on California soil, and you’re not planning on doing it again anytime soon.

Your thumb hovers over the button to exit the group chat, but you find yourself looking at the photo longer than you should. Your parents look a bit older, more weary than the last time you video called them, and your brother has cut his hair even shorter. 

But Joshua glows. He smiles in the selfie, one arm hanging off of your brother’s shoulders. Those eyes are scrunched up into two happy crescents. Too familiar, too much. The spark in his expression burns.

Stardom will inevitably change a person, but that part of him has always been the same.

You rip your eyes away from your phone, the screen with Joshua’s face on it going dark. Ayun puts the leftovers in the fridge, asking if you want to shower first. You tell her to go ahead, reaching for the remote. The TV drones on, but you aren’t listening.

It’s almost midnight. 8:52 in California, you think. It’s a reflex, each time you look at the clock. Even over two thousand miles away, PST never leaves you. Your parents might be having a late dinner right now, as they always do. Maybe Joshua is sitting at the table too, all smiles and stories you don’t know if you’d want to hear.

You hear the sound of the shower turning off already. Sighing, you open the last notification on your phone, a rather long text from your brother following a missed call.

I know you probably forgot, but Sumin’s wedding is soon. Mom and Dad didn’t want to bother you and ask, but I’m telling you because I know they want you there, and so does she. Sending the invitation after this. Please make time to be there. Everyone misses you.

The words burn into your eyes as you reread it, and then another time. The accusatory tone in Hajun’s message isn’t totally lost on you. You click hesitantly on the evite. Sumin looks radiant in the picture, bursting with happiness. You don’t recognize her fiancé. It’s been quite a while since the last time you spoke to your cousin.

February 12, 4:00 PM. It is soon. The date almost has you frowning, until you realize the weather back home is just accommodating enough during the winter for such events. 

Should you go? You’ll need to request at least two weeks off, which you don’t know if you’ll get. On top of that, the mere prospect of being back in LA at the same time as Joshua has your stomach turning.

But then again, it’s been ages since you’ve been back. A part of you carries guilt for not being there – for your parents, for your brother, for your family. The least you could do is show up to an important event.

And yet…

The light clicks off in Ayun’s room. It is well past midnight now. You pick yourself up off the couch and into the shower, drowning out the heaviness of your thoughts with the steam that rises and fogs up the glass. The sound of the water reminds you of the waves, crashing and rolling against the Pacific coast. 

Maybe a visit home is long overdue.

You didn’t like Joshua when you first met him.

It was petty, and stupid. You thought him too perfect, too kind – a far cry from the other elementary school boys who were rude and liked to crack jokes at the expense of everybody else. Preteen you refused to fall for the supposed act.

He lived just a few minutes away, and he was usually over at your house for a meal, or to do homework. Your parents absolutely adored him and thought he was the most polite boy they had ever met.

But you didn’t buy it.

It wasn’t until several years later that you began to understand. Joshua Hong was, at his core, the closest to altruistic you had ever seen a person come. He was not an angel, by any means – he liked to tease you often, but it was always harmlessly. He was endlessly kind at heart. That was when you had allowed yourself to be more comfortable in his presence, slowly becoming fast friends.

Joshua always stood by you not like an umbrella, but just another flower under the rain. His friendship was like a promise to weather everything with you, no matter what it was. There were never any secrets, not between you and him.

So it had felt like the biggest betrayal when you found the plane ticket to Seoul simply sitting there in his drawer, like it wasn’t a metaphorical stab to your heart.

Those are the memories that come unbidden to you as you settle in your seat, gazing out the window as the plane takes off. You still aren’t sure if booking this flight was a mistake, if you’ll regret it all the second you set foot in LAX. 

But it’s too late for all that now. You suppose you’ll find out in six hours, anyhow.

Your fingers slip from the window’s glass as the rest of the airport grows smaller and the bay comes into view, soon giving way to the vast Atlantic. The cabin’s lights are dimmed. You should be trying to catch some sleep to better handle the three-hour time difference. 

You’re already regretting choosing a six a.m flight — you don’t know why you let Ayun talk you into it. So you’ll land earlier instead of at night, she’d said. But you had never really been a morning person to begin with.

Joshua knew that, too. Still, he used to ring your phone at four in the morning, so you could catch the sunrise together at the beach. You always grumbled about it, but your mood never failed to lighten once the sun rose, painting the sky in picturesque colors. It was peaceful like that, just the two of you sitting and talking over a plate of sliced apples and peanut butter.

Your own words echo in your head, even after all these years. Why didn’t you tell me? Why wouldn’t you tell me? 

And he didn’t have any answers, choosing to just stare at the ground as your heart shattered into pieces.

Maybe that was the problem, that you cared too much. The truth was that no matter how much you tried to hide it, you loved Joshua Hong back then, with all of your teenaged heart. Maybe he knew. Maybe he loved you back. But that line of thought would remain just that – a forever maybe.

Not surprisingly, you don’t sleep a wink the entire flight. It must show on your face, because Hajun asks about it when you meet him outside.

“I’m glad you came,” he says, pulling away from the tight hug he’d engulfed you in. He hasn’t changed much aside from the hair — still the same curious, eager eyes and bright expression. When he had suddenly grown so much, you aren’t sure. “Wow, you look exhausted.”

“I am,” you say. Hajun hoists your suitcase into the trunk, and you settle tiredly into the passenger seat. “Did you guys have lunch already?”

He shakes his head, starting the car. “No. We were all waiting for you.”

Your heart squeezes just a little bit at his words, but you remain silent. The drive passes just like that. You and Hajun have always been this way — talkative individually, but not with each other. Growing up, there were not many things you necessarily needed to say out loud between yourselves. It’s the same exact way right now.

I’m sorry. I missed you. It’s okay. I understand.

Sleep is gone from your mind. Hajun rolls down the windows just a little bit and you revel in the warm air as he drives down the freeway, taking in the California sky. You can’t believe you stayed away for so long.

A part of you even feels excited at the prospect of your visit, a much longer stay than the several days you were here every other time you visited.

There’s another car parked in your driveway when Hajun rolls in, one that you don’t recognize. You shoot him a questioning look, but he’s already turned away, unloading your luggage out of the trunk and the backseat.

The front door opens before you can even take another step. Your father hangs back with an excited smile as your mom lets out a little shriek, wrapping you in a hug. The familiar warmth still feels so far away, like maybe a part of you hasn’t finished the journey across the country yet. You let yourself melt into her warm embrace, the one you had stubbornly stayed so far away from for so long.

“Come in, come in,” she says hurriedly. “You need to eat something after your long flight, I made all of your favorites. Oh, and there’s someone you need to meet!”

You turn back to give your brother another confused look. Hajun meets your eyes this time, but the smile he sports doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks uneasy, if anything, and it’s only once you’ve set your suitcase down inside the house that you understand why.

Because in your living room, on your worn couch, sits Joshua Hong.

He stands as soon as everyone walks in, saying his hellos. Always polite, always so mannered. The idea makes your blood boil until you realize you don’t have the right to be angry about it at all. What you do find upsetting is the fact that you can’t really take your eyes off of him, not even after all that’s happened. His hair is neatly swept back as always, save for that one strand that never did as he wanted even as a child. Those lips that you once almost kissed are parted in mild surprise, doe eyes never once leaving yours.

“Hi,” is all he says. 

You return it with a polite nod, unable to come up with words, and wonder why Joshua of all people is in your house right now. Ignoring him for the time being, you greet his mother and make small talk with her as your parents busy themselves with finishing things up in the kitchen. You always enjoyed talking with her, but right now there are more pressing matters to think about, like her son hanging onto your every word as he sits patiently beside her.

You shoot Hajun another look afterward. I’m sorry, I had no idea, he mouths back. You sigh and wonder at your perfectly doomed fate.

Maybe you should have told your parents that you and Joshua weren’t friends anymore, that you had stopped talking entirely after you found the ticket to Seoul in his room and had that disastrous argument. If you had, you probably wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

But you didn’t, and you are. So you force a smile and talk your way through lunch while pretending you aren’t five seconds from violently throwing up the entire time.

You’re about to use a stomach ache or something of the sort as an excuse to leave when your father’s voice stops you en route to your old bedroom.

“Why don’t you kids go have a drive around or something? I’m sure it’s been a while since you’ve gotten the chance to catch up,” he suggests from the couch, ever so oblivious to the brick wall between the two of you.

Joshua is already standing up. You wish the floor would swallow you whole. The absolute last thing you want to do is be alone with him. You’re deeply tempted to say it aloud right now, but you know better than that.

Hajun goes to say something, eyes alarmed, but you shake your head ever so subtly. Normally you would be the first one to try and cause a scene, but you are too tired for any of that, and you know it isn’t worth it.

You fake a smile and drag yourself to the door, reluctantly slipping on your shoes.

“I’ll drive,” Joshua offers, reaching for his keys. 

You want to punch him in the face. But you don’t have a better option, so you grumble an agreement and follow him out the door.

With each second that passes, you find yourself hoping he’ll say something. But he stays quiet, even as he starts his car and pulls out onto the road. It’s a nice, newer model, and you wonder when he’d bought it.

You suppose this is the kind of thing he can casually afford now that he’s Joshua of SEVENTEEN. Not yours, not LA’s, but the whole world’s instead, bigger than the dream he had all those years ago.

“Where do you want to go? The beach?”

You scoff. “Only a complete lunatic would go to the beach in January.”

“Careful. The New England in you is showing.” He ignores your words and takes a familiar right. Your stomach turns violently when you realize exactly where he’s heading, and his soft voice sends a thousand tiny daggers into every vein in your body.

You’ve heard that voice all too many times over the past eight years. You’ve heard it in interviews, sung into bedazzled microphones. It was shameful to admit it to yourself, but you had kept up with Joshua’s achievements  for far longer than you should have. You almost messaged him when you received the news of his debut, too, but you stopped before you could pull his contact up, wondering if you were even allowed to do that anymore. 

After all, you had not heard from him since he went to Korea. So you tucked your phone away, and chose to listen to his soothing voice instead.

“How’s Boston?”

It’s cold, it rains all the time, and I miss you. “Josh, let’s not do this.”

You regret the familiar nickname the minute you say it, but he doesn’t seem to register it, voice tinged with desperation. “Do what?”

“Pretend that everything is perfectly fine and we’re still friends,” you huff, turning to face him for the first time since you got in his car. His eyes are trained on the road, like the responsible driver he’s always been, but his jaw is tight. Good, you think. “Why were you in my house? Why are you still in my life?”

“You might hate me, but your parents don’t,” he says softly, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Our moms were friends before we ever were.”

You can’t bring yourself to say that you hate him, so you settle for the next best thing.

“I can’t believe you, Joshua Hong. I don’t understand how you have the nerve to disappear without telling me and then magically showing up again years later like nothing ever happened.”

“I didn’t,” he insists. “Disappear, I mean. We didn’t have to be strangers for eight years.”

“Well, we were! Did you forget about everything back home the second you got to Korea and started a completely new life?”

There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes, and you think this time you might have struck a sensitive nerve.

“Did you forget everything the moment you set foot in Boston and everyone else was three hours behind?” he counters. “At least I come home when I can. From what I hear, you’re barely even here.”

Your nostrils flare. You had always made sure to schedule your visits after he went back to Seoul. “I have a job, Joshua, and it’s not as flexible as yours!”

“You didn’t have to spend two whole years wondering if you were even going to have a job!”

Another quick remark comes to the front of your mind, but you hold your tongue at the last minute.

This isn’t good. This is turning into the last argument you had before you hadn’t spoken for years again, and it’s far too early for that right now. Joshua seems to understand this too, exhaling his irritation into the air.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “It’s fine.”

You had been way too caught up in the argument to realize he already parked in the all-too-familiar lot. The salty air is unmistakable through the half rolled down windows, and the waves lapping against the shore unlock a memory you thought you had securely put away somewhere in a dark corner of your mind.

You fold your arms. “Why are we here?”

Joshua shrugs. “Figured you haven’t been to a proper beach in forever. You used to love it here.”

“It’s been eight years, Josh. You don’t know a single thing about me anymore.” Even as you say it, you get out of the car, immediately letting the nostalgia wash over you. You missed this, the sand shifting under your feet and the seagulls’ distant calling. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?”

“Hm?”

“Hajun said dating rumors are essentially a death sentence for you guys.”

Joshua pulls out a baseball cap from the side of his car in response. You recognize that one, the old Lakers hat he wore religiously throughout high school. It hasn’t changed a single bit, but he has, so much.

“It’ll be fine,” he says. “Barely anyone’s here. Soonyoung’s out exploring on his own right now, though. I’m more worried about him.”

You glance up in surprise. “You brought him, too?”

“Yeah, he’s staying at my place,” Joshua chuckles. “Last time we were here he went and had galbi with my mom without me. I didn’t even know he came over.”

You had heard about that, but you can’t remember exactly where. Instead, you let yourself watch him as he walks in front of you, following that same path to your favorite spot on the shore. He’s taller now, more built, but with the same boyish charm that had you falling at just thirteen. 

Still, you reprimand yourself for every one of those thoughts. Not yours, not yours, not yours, you chant in your head, even as you walk precariously on the eroded rocks.

Even after all this time, Joshua has managed to find the spot fairly easily, setting down a beach towel so you can sit on the sand. You’re certainly not dressed for this, you think, but you still take a seat.

You aren’t sure what to say – what there is to say. The sunlight is gentler than usual, a trademark of a mid-winter afternoon. The gentle breeze tousles his dark hair just a tad, and for a split second he is yours, like he used to be.

The moment lasts until he speaks up again. “How long are you staying?”

“Four weeks,” you sigh. “I’m leaving after my cousin’s wedding.”

“That’s a pretty long time.”

It is, and you have a feeling it’s going to go by painfully slow. “You?”

Joshua stretches his legs out, head tilted up towards the sky. “I’m off for the rest of the month. Then I have other things scheduled back to back. But Soonyoung’s only here for two weeks.”

You nod, processing the information. Four weeks at home, and you won’t be able to avoid him for any of it. Maybe if you plan your days strategically, you can –

“Let me know when you’re free,” he says, shocking you. 

You scowl at him. “Why would I do that?”

He shrugs, like he doesn’t care, but that will never work on you. You know him too well, you’ve always been able to see right through him. The hurt in his eyes cannot be disguised for anything else, and you feel terrible for a moment.

“Only if you want,” he murmurs. He looks picturesque, perfect, like he’s supposed to. Your chest tightens. “If you feel like making up for lost time.”

The idea is tempting, too tempting. But as soon as you catch yourself beginning to consider it, you brush it away again. Time has created a physical barrier between the two of you, and you feel it even now, an invisible wall you constructed when he left that you never bothered to try taking down afterwards.

It’s two-thirty in the afternoon, and the sun is soft. The waves roll and crash ahead of you, and Los Angeles watches as you and Joshua sit side by side.

You are not one to sleep in, usually. But something about being home has done away with the part of you that is always alert, always on edge.

When Hajun is up before you, that’s how you know it’s bad. He tries to make fun of you, but you smack him on the head and chalk it up to the time difference, walking away so you don’t have to hear him say that it only works in the opposite direction.

Ayun has texted you a few times with life updates that you sit down to read thoroughly. You miss her, even though it’s only been a few days since you have been in California, and you keep forgetting that you’re a whole three hours behind now. 

There isn’t much to do, and it bothers you. For most of your life, you feel like you’ve been chasing something — a degree, a career, stability. But it doesn’t sit right with you that for the next four weeks, you have nothing to work towards. 

So you busy yourself as much as you are able, volunteering to drive Hajun to places he needs to go and helping your parents out around the house. As restless as the days can get, you still find pockets of calm where you can. It’s in peeling garlic in the kitchen with your mother, and long drives while your brother sings off-key to the songs playing in your car.

It’s during one of those drives that Hajun’s phone starts to ring mid-conversation. You don’t think anything of it, humming along to yourself as he answers it.

“Oh, hey,” he says, quickly frowning. “Yeah, she is. Why?”

His tone makes you look over at him curiously, but he just shakes his head.

“Alright, I’ll tell her. You too. See you.”

You shoot him a funny look. “Who was that?”

Hajun shifts in his seat. That’s how you know you might not like the answer. He has always been the one person who is unconditionally transparent with you, even growing up. You spare him an apprehensive glance from the driver’s seat when he remains quiet.

“It was Joshua,” he says finally.

Your stomach flips, violently. “What? How does he have your number?”

“He’s my friend, too,” Hajun reminds you. “You weren’t the only one who grew up with him constantly around the house.”

He’s right. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. It isn’t fair to project your own frustration onto someone who hasn’t done anything but have your back this entire time.

“What did he want?”

“He was asking if he could see you again, but he didn’t know how to contact you. Not now,” he clarifies. “Later, sometime. He sounded a little scared, honestly.”

“Good,” you mutter, fingers tightening around the wheel. Hajun notices and sighs, the one he does when he has something to say but consciously chooses to keep it to himself. “What is it?”

“You’re stressing yourself out again,” he points out.

“How can I not be stressed?” Still, you loosen your grip on the steering wheel reluctantly. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what he’s up to now? Eight years, Hajun! Eight years he disappears and then chooses to act like everything’s perfect and great! Does he think that just because he’s famous now he can come back and do whatever he wants?! What an immature little bitch.”

Hajun, ever the peaceful angel sitting on your shoulder, furrows his brows. “I wouldn’t put it like that exactly,” he says delicately, “but I agree.”

“Yes. Good. Thank you.”

“So… can I give you his number?”

You shoot him your best glare. But you can’t keep it going, not at your little brother. Even when he’s trying to play mediator in the midst of a ticking minefield. 

Every single cell in your body is screaming no. But your soft spot always wins, and exposes that ugly, shameful truth: you hadn’t ever stopped loving Joshua Hong through the tumultuous years. Not in LA, not in Boston. He had left, but a part of him remained with you. You couldn’t ever get rid of it.

You say yes.

It’s embarrassing, almost, the amount of time you spend staring at the unfamiliar digits in your phone. Your finger hovers above it sometimes, during the moments of weakness you go through alone in your childhood bedroom. 

You might have dialed Joshua’s landline ten years ago, standing in this very spot. You did, often, to talk about anything and everything at all. But the words don’t come easy anymore. In fact, they don’t come at all.

The house gets suffocating, after a while. You find yourself itching to get out, to paint yourself against the sparsely clouded sky. Maybe the water will give you the answers you cannot find on your own.

Or maybe you expect too much of the ocean – perhaps you read too many Herman Melville books during university, in which the crashing waves seemed to contain multitudes.

But that is all fiction. The Pacific does not seem to recognize your sadness no matter how many times you drive down to the beach. If you squint closely enough, you can see your own footprints in the sand, before the wind scatters them away.

Either way, you don’t expect much from the ocean anymore. No solace, no comfort. You don’t blink even as you get sprayed with water, the tide just barely reaching your toes.

The sacred silence is broken by a gentle peal of laughter further down the shore. Your heart drops. You would recognize that soft giggle anywhere in the world.

Joshua isn’t alone. He’s watching who you think is Soonyoung as he wades around in the water, if the tiger print shirt is any indication to go by. He sits on a large boulder, narrowly avoiding the tide each time it ripples across the sand and just barely reaches his toes.

It’s an all too familiar scene.

Yet you can’t help but look on fondly as they talk and laugh between themselves. Joshua has the kind of friends that you always secretly wished for him. It’s clear in every single clip that goes viral on social media, each snippet posted to Instagram you click on even though you told yourself you wouldn’t.

It’s perfect — they cheer on his unhinged madness, and he continues to take care of them in that gentle way of his.

They don’t know that you once knew that side of him, too. Joshua has always been widely beloved. Such a wonderful young man, the parents always said. Still do. But beneath all of that lies a thick layer of mischief that crackles and bubbles like a steady fire. You used to love that about him, how easily he was able to channel his inner child.

That version of him is not for you, not anymore. You get what the rest of the world sees. Joshua, the gentleman. Joshua, lead vocalist of SEVENTEEN.

Soonyoung slips and falls comically, almost flat on his face. Joshua helps him up, but not before laughing heartily first. The water he’d tried so hard to avoid pools around his feet, drenching the bottom of his light blue jeans. 

You never understood why he always wore jeans to the beach. Who does that, anyway? But maybe you get it now. They aren’t supposed to get so soaked, not unless you want to feel like a miserable wet dog. There is a time and place to wade into the ocean.

One of those is when Soonyoung falls, apparently.

This is when you realize you make the mistake of looking too long, too much. Joshua’s head snaps up and he squints at you, either trying to make out your face or wondering why you’re here. 

You look away, fingers combing through the warm sand. Once, twice, again.

He waves. Soonyoung waves, too.

You’d kick yourself right now if you could, but no amount of self-reproaching is going to stop them from making their way down the shoreline in your direction. Soonyoung skips ahead with his flip-flops in hand, clearly excited. Joshua seems a little less so.

You don’t even know what to say, when Soonyoung finally approaches you with a wide smile on his mouth. It’s hard for you to return it with equal enthusiasm, but you try.

Soonyoung speaks in flourishing sentences, interjects in Korean where he can’t come up with the English word. He says he can’t believe this is how he gets to finally meet you, and that he’s heard so much about you over the years. All good things, he promises.

You take his words at face value, because you think you would be able to tell if he was lying. And you’d believe them either way. Joshua is no angel, but he isn’t nearly as petty as you, and you know he would never speak ill of you to his bandmates.

Soonyoung is easy to talk to. Of course, you are starting on a clean slate with him. But Joshua approaches, and suddenly there are haphazard marks all over the stone. He greets you with a polite nod, because that is what he always does. But you’re able to easily see past the fraught smile.

“Hi,” he says, eyebrows lifting slightly. You scan the rest of the beach, wondering what would happen if someone happens to spot the three of you. But there is nobody else as far as you can see. There usually isn’t. That was why you started coming here in the first place. “Don’t worry, I really don’t think anyone would recognize us.”

“You should give yourself more credit than that. A lot of people like to brag about you over here.”

He laughs, like it isn’t true. “I haven’t made the news after being spotted out and about yet, so I’m counting that as a win.”

“Let’s hope you get to keep your lucky streak.”

“Let’s,” he echoes, eyes sweeping over you like he’s trying to find the answer to a question he hasn’t even asked yet. A part of you wants him to. Maybe you do have what he’s looking for. “I didn’t think we were going to run into you here today.”

You shrug, glancing at the calm waves. “I’m usually here.”

I know, he might have said if you were alone. Because he does, and you know it. But he only chuckles, like this is brand new information to him.

“Has Soonyoung already started talking your ear off?” he asks instead.

“I don’t mind it,” you admit. “He already promised me a year’s worth of embarrassing Joshua Hong stories, by the way.”

“I did,” Soonyoung confirms, eager to join the conversation. Joshua feigns a betrayed frown as they launch into a playful argument of their own. 

You note his little mannerisms – the way he moves his hands when he makes a point, how his eyes go extra wide after Soonyoung makes a particularly bold statement – and wonder how you still remember all of them after so many years.

“What!” Soonyoung exclaims suddenly after Joshua calls him ridiculous, turning to you. “Noona, has he always been like this?”

You purse your lips. Joshua looks at you half expectantly, and you’re not sure what the rest is. Regret. Nostalgia, maybe. There’s no way for you to know. 

“Yes,” you say. “Much worse. He wasn’t any less of a menace in LA, you know. If anything, I think he’s mellowed down a little since then.”

“I knew it. There’s no way he could have ever been normal.”

Soonyoung looks vindicated as he says it. Joshua begins to complain, but it’s evident that he really doesn’t mind. They begin to bicker again, and it reminds you of old times. 

Maybe you should feel a little bitter right now. But you don’t. Perhaps Joshua had not felt so strongly about losing you after gaining this sort of precious friendship back twelve-fold. And you can’t find it in you to be anything but grateful that he had found home again, that with these boys he could be just Joshua and didn’t need to worry about being enough.

Soonyoung dodges a playful smack, and the scene makes you laugh. Joshua looks at you like the sound is startling, and you can’t take it. Your eyes find somewhere else to rest, anywhere and anything except for him.

“Anyways, noona,” Soonyoung turns to you. “What were you doing over here?”

“Me? Nothing.” You gesture vaguely to the ocean and the sand that had witnessed your childhood. “I used to come here a lot when I was younger. I guess I just miss it.”

Soonyoung nods, like he understands. “I know what you mean. I miss home when we’re on tour, too.”

And you know he means well, but he won’t truly get it. He speaks like home is always open for him, no matter how far it is.

But it has been so long since you’ve felt like there is anything left for you in Los Angeles. Your parents had begun to understand that at some point. Hajun, too.

Of course, memories are always strongest where they were originally made, but your life is no longer here. Education, career, friends – you had created a bubble for yourself on the east coast, and you’d easily slipped into that routine.

Coming back to the same beach you loved at sixteen does not feel like the full circle moment you thought it would be. And you feel a little stupid now, for thinking so. Of course it would not be the same. You are different in so many ways now than you were when you left California for the first time.

Joshua steps in when you begin to struggle for an appropriate response. You hate that he’s so good at knowing what to say.

“How’s Hajun been lately?”

“Oh, he’s good.” It’s a welcome change of topic. “He’s handling school pretty well, figuring out what he wants to do after graduating.”

Joshua nods, a little smile curving onto his lips. “I can’t believe Hajun’s already graduating college. Time goes by so fast.”

“That it does.”

“Sometimes I wish I had a little brother,” Soonyoung says mournfully.

“You don’t,” you assure him. “I promise it’s not as glamorous as it sounds. We really did not like each other that much until he hit middle school, probably.”

“Really?”

You nod. “Yeah, we used to fight all the time. I bruised his arm pretty bad once.”

“It’s true,” Joshua confirms. “I’ve seen it in real time. It almost happened to me in high school once, too.”

Soonyoung gapes at you in utter surprise. You almost laugh, and wonder what kinds of nice things Joshua must have said about you that he can’t seem to believe otherwise.

“Noona, did you actually punch him?”

“Almost,” you emphasize. “But he walked into my house and ate the last piece of my birthday cake that I was saving as a treat for after finals week. So it was his fault, really.”

“I was hungry,” Joshua offers, attempting to defend himself.

“Well, so was I!”

Sooyoung shoots him a look. “I don’t blame her. I’d do the same.”

“Thank you, Soonyoung.”

He takes it in stride. “It’s good to know there’s at least one person that can put hyung in his place.”

This makes you laugh, even if you don’t know how true that statement is anymore. Joshua narrows his eyes, like he’s not sure if he likes this new alliance that seems to be forming between the two of you. Playful, as he tends to be. There is no real grudge in his expression, only a sort of affection that makes it even harder for you to keep him at arm’s length. You catch onto it, and the two of you share a little smile that lasts only for a few seconds.

It’s a little dangerous, but perhaps it’s okay. Nothing wrong with honoring a memory, right?

Soonyoung either notices the tension, or subconsciously changes the topic himself. Whichever it is, you’re grateful for the diversion. You’re not sure you could handle this conversation if it was just you and Joshua here by yourselves.

“Noona, you should have dinner with us!”

You blanch at the suggestion. “Oh, I really don’t think—”

Soonyoung doesn’t notice your expression and just continues to talk about a cozy place nearby, somewhere with great bone soup he’s been craving lately. Out of desperation, you turn to Joshua, wondering if he might put a stop to this with an excuse. But he just smiles lightly as his friend chatters on.

“I mean, he’s right,” he says. “How long has it been since we’ve caught up over a meal?”

Damn you, you think. Damn you and your stupid face and your stupid smile. 

But you know the truth. You could curse him in your head all you want, and still you follow him up the beach’s slope every time, stepping in his footprints as they sink into the sand. You refuse to let him drive you to the restaurant Soonyoung was raving about, and nod numbly when he says he’ll text you the address instead.

It sits there, the very first message he’s sent you in almost a decade. No hi, no how are you, just the number and street name blinking back at you from the screen.

You’d imagined this so many times, wondered how the conversation would play out. Maybe one of you would apologize, and that old feeling would blossom again. But there’s no use in dwelling on the what-if, so you start your car and turn your music on low.

The place is cozy. There are potted plants sitting in the corners, and old ballads play softly from the speaker. No one else is inside when you walk in, except for Joshua and Soonyoung, who must have arrived a few minutes before you. The latter is speaking in rapid Korean with the old woman behind the counter, having slipped into a comfortable pace. Joshua turns when you approach them quietly. 

“He’s been trying to bond with her for the past ten minutes straight,” he tells you. “I think they’re both from Namyangju.”

“Well, is it working?”

“Very much so.”

The halmeoni tells Soonyoung he is a very charming young man, from what little you can decipher. He smiles bashfully at the compliment even as you’re shown to your table.

“See, that’s natural charisma,” he says pointedly. Joshua gets the hint and chuckles, taking a long sip of his water. “Noona, don’t you agree?”

“Definitely. In fact, I think Josh could take a page out of your book for once.”

Joshua chokes on his water. Soonyoung reaches over to high five you in the midst of his laughter, while the former pretends to be annoyed as he dabs the water from his shirt.

As always, Soonyoung is quick to move to another topic. He seems to have many questions at the tip of his tongue.

“Hyung said you live in Boston now,” is what he starts with. “What’s it like there?”

“It’s nice. Very walkable, unlike here. Super pretty in the summer, but the winters are brutal.” You try your hardest to ignore the way Joshua hangs onto your every word, as if each syllable falling from your lips is something special. “It’s a beautiful city. You guys haven’t toured there before?”

“I think we only went once, a really long time ago,” Joshua offers. “In 2017, if I remember correctly.”

Soonyoung nudges him and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, why didn’t you visit her then?”

You know why. Joshua knows why too, based on the way his almond eyes sweep to the linoleum floor. He had no way of knowing, back then, where you were and what you were up to. He had not contacted you since he left LA, and you were too proud to cave and send word first.

“We were busy,” Joshua says, going for the tasteful answer. “She probably was, too. With university and stuff.”

Soonyoung makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth. “What did you study, noona?”

You tell him you were an economics student, and he seems even more fascinated. Over steaming bowls of soup, you answer all of his questions, dropping in little extra details about your life here and there.

You know Joshua is listening as intently, but it’s easier on your heart to speak directly to Soonyoung instead and pretend these aren’t the updates you had wished you could give him all the time. 

He watches you tell your stories, eyes patient and soft just like he’s always been. It is clear even now that he does not resent you for the dissolution of your friendship. Maybe he wanted to, but couldn’t. Like you.

The hour is late when you finally leave the restaurant, bidding the halmeoni a good night. You’re almost too tired to drive, but you manage to pull yourself together as you walk to your car. 

“Drive safe,” Joshua murmurs, just barely loud enough to hear. “Text me when you get home.”

Silence is your response of choice. But you know yourself, and no matter how much you don’t want to, you’ll pull out your phone later tonight and let him know you got back okay. You just don’t want to think about it right now.

Soonyoung begins to say something, shoving his hands in his pockets before he freezes, alarmed.

“Shit,” he exclaims, patting the pockets of his jeans for good measure. “I think I left my wallet inside. Hold on, guys!”

Secretly you pray he finds it in some pocket or the other, but to no avail. He jogs back through the parking lot, leaving you alone with the last person you wanted to see in all of California. There is probably nothing you could say right now that would make the awkwardness any better.

“Soonyoung is quite the character,” is what you finally settle on. Joshua chuckles.

“He is.”

“I’m glad you have him,” you say. It’s the truth. “And the others.”

“Me too. I’m glad you got to meet him.” A stray strand escapes from Joshua’s well-kept hair. “They’ve wanted to, you know. The boys.”

You merely huff out a little laugh. “I wonder what stories you’re telling about me to your friends, Joshua Hong, that they think so highly of me.”

A twinkling smile graces the beautiful curve of his mouth. “The important ones.” 

His gaze is deliberate. You know this, that Joshua has never been one to shy away from the issue at hand. He’s able to hold himself accountable, if anything.

But maybe that’s what scares you. It was easy to resent him, to linger in the grief of losing a dear friend. It was way too easy to convince yourself that you hated him more than anyone else in the world, even if you didn’t.

What’s hard is denying the simple truth that you still know Joshua to his core. People change, but still they do not become so unrecognizable once you uncover the essence of their being. There’s no way you could have magically unlearned him despite eight years of separation. Not even a lifetime apart could rip that away from you.

Soonyoung returns before you can say another word. Not that you can even remember what sort of response was on the tip of your tongue. He speaks with replenished energy and incessant curiosity, yet seems blissfully unaware of the rift between you and Joshua as you say your goodbyes.

The exhaustion hits you the moment you get into your car. Sighing, you lean back into your seat, wondering when something like love turned into such a painful, thorny thing to bear. When did it become so… resistant? In your youth you wore it like a pair of wings, light and airy. But it is stubborn now, and refuses to budge no matter how hard you push.

The sensible part of you wants it gone. But a tiny corner of your brain wonders if it’s a sign to stay.

Minutes tick by, and Joshua’s car is long gone. Still, the ghost of his presence remains with you, settling into the empty passenger seat. If you press your fingers to your chest, you can feel the ridges of the footprint he’s left on your heart.

In the distance, a seagull lands awkwardly onto a rock, before promptly righting itself. You ponder over the haphazard mess of your life, and wonder what it feels like to fly.

Of course, you should not have expected a peaceful four weeks when there is a wedding to be had.

Sumin is every bit as radiant as she looks. As children, you couldn’t ever be upset at your parents when she would come up in conversation as a point of comparison. Because they were right. She was impossibly smart, and beautiful, and always had just the right words to say. The years between you are only two, but she feels so far away, so unattainable.

But she still holds an approachable warmth that feels a little disorienting. You wonder at how humble she remains, despite being so accomplished and so loved.

Like Joshua, you think, before shoving that thought away.

“I’m so glad you could come,” Sumin says in that gentle voice of hers. “Auntie said you might not be able to make it. But I’m thankful she was wrong.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you tell her, truthfully. “I’m so happy for you.”

She smiles graciously. Everyone else nods along, an assortment of other cousins and some of her friends. You’ve met some, like Jiyeon and Sara, who went to the same university as Sumin. As for the others, you take the silence as an opportunity to observe them, as you always do.

Hawkish, Hajun always said to tease you. Joshua had chosen to take the kinder route, comparing you to an owl. 

(“They’re considered very intelligent,” he’d said. “And they can fly really quietly.”

You frowned at him. “Are you telling me I’d make an excellent bird of prey?”

He laughed, loud and clear. “Maybe.”)

The afternoon tires you. You hadn’t originally wanted to go, but you felt you should meet Sumin at least once before the actual ceremony, and that had turned into a much more complex plan. Your mother insisted on you making some friends while you were at it, but that was futile. You had already anchored pieces of your heart here before setting sail without them, and you didn’t plan on doing it again.

The crisp air breathes life into your lungs as you leave her apartment. For the first time in years, it’s a Friday afternoon and you are free. There’s no worrying about deadlines, or rushing to another meeting with lukewarm coffee in hand. 

It’s strange, to have so much time to yourself. And it shouldn’t be as odd of a concept as it feels. Your whole life, your days have never been yours. There was high school, there was university, and then there was the demanding schedule of a respectable job.

But these minutes belong to you. You can shape them, stretch them, use them however you want. Nobody is going to tell you no.

Your phone feels heavy in your hand, and you chew on your lip at the weight of the decision on your mind. Joshua’s name stares back up at you from the screen like a taunt. It burns unpleasantly in your chest, and you finally give in.

“Hello?”

A pause. You hadn’t expected him to answer so fast, and maybe you would have had time to think about what you were going to say. But then again, that should have been a decision you made before you called.

“Hey.” You feel the words getting stuck in your throat. It didn’t use to be this hard to talk to your best friend. “Sorry, were you busy?”

“No, no, you’re good,” he chuckles. It’s deep and rumbling, a far cry from the way he sounded at sixteen. Still, there are traces of that doe-eyed boy still there. “Did you need something?”

“Me? No. I was just wondering what you were up to.” You swallow, feeling the way the words begin to roll off of your tongue thoughtlessly. “I was with my cousin, but now I don’t really have anywhere to be, and Hajun’s got class, so–”

“Are you asking me if I want to hang out?”

You freeze, unsure of what to say next. The sound of Joshua’s soft breathing crackles over the phone. You can almost picture the rise and fall of his chest.

“If you are, my answer is yes,” he continues. His voice is gentle. Kind. I understand, it seems to tell you, even if he doesn’t say those words himself. “If not, that’s okay too. I’m glad you called, either way. I didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me.”

Stupid, stupid Joshua. That was all you wanted for years and years. But why does it seem like such a fearsome thing when it’s just within reach?

Now, though, is not the time to be indecisive or careful. You push aside every voice that’s whispering doubts into your mind and banish them into silence.

“I’ll pick you up in ten?”

Joshua laughs, like he knew you would say that. And he probably did, because it’s you, and how do you just forget things about people you’ve known for so long? He says he’ll be ready, and hangs up without offering to send you his address. He doesn’t need to. You couldn’t ever forget your way to the place that was like a second home to you in your teenage years.

The sun is more muted by the time you pull into his driveway, shrouded in cloud cover. It reminds you of the weather back home, and then you silently rebuke yourself for even thinking of Boston as home. Because it’s not, is it? The streets of Back Bay hadn’t raised you, hadn’t seen your moments of anguish as well as the ones of joy. One chapter of your life could never overshadow the whole book.

You’re startled by a soft knock on the window, and you unlock the door so Joshua can get in. He fits himself easily into your passenger seat. He looks good as always, donning a green flannel and a comfortable pair of jeans.

“You look nice,” he says. The words slip out easily, and your cheeks grow warm under his deliberate gaze. The sweater you’re wearing hangs off your shoulders a bit awkwardly, but you like how the fabric feels on your skin. It’s warm, and it fits. You hadn’t really thought much about it beyond that.

“Thank you,” you return, putting the car in reverse. “So do you. But you don’t need me to tell you that.”

He raises a brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well, I’m sure you hear it all the time.”

“It’s different coming from you,” he says matter-of-factly. You resign to silence, and keep your eyes on the road ahead of you as you wonder what he could possibly mean. “Anyways, where to?”

You glance over at him suddenly. “Oh, I hadn’t… I didn’t think of that.”

“You usually have a plan,” Joshua observes, amused.

“Not today,” you confess. “Not for a while. Plans only work when there are things to be done. I’m sure you can understand.”

He nods, because he does. He must. His career is built around a strong sense of discipline and routine, if anything.

“Well, do you need to run any errands?”

Your heart aches. The two of you used to do this all the time in high school, dragging each other out of the house even for a simple grocery run.

“I don’t think so? Hajun got the groceries yesterday, and we’re not out of anything… I picked up Dad’s prescription, so that’s done too. Oh, and I should find something to wear to Sumin’s wedding, but I think I can take care of that later–”

“Let’s do it now,” Joshua says decisively. You try your best to shoot him an incredulous look while simultaneously keeping an eye on the road.

“You are going to be bored out of your mind,” you tell him. “That, and I need an actual second opinion.”

He feigns a hurt frown. “I don’t count as a second opinion?”

“You told me I looked like a melted stick of butter when I bought my prom dress!”

Joshua wrinkles his nose in recollection. “I thought I was being helpful, no?”

“I don’t think that was the compliment you meant it to be,” you point out. Joshua nods, making a sound of acknowledgement in the back of his throat.

“Trust me, I’ve gotten better at those since last time.”

You throw him a cautious glance. “Joshua, you really don’t want to go dress shopping with me. I promise you.”

He frowns. “Why not?”

What could you even say? You know that he’s not unaware of the unsaid years bubbling between you two. There are so many reasons you could give, but you can’t settle on one. 

“Listen,” he continues, “what’s the worst that could happen? If you find something you like, then that’s perfect. If you don’t, then you can come back later. Like you said, the wedding is soon, anyways.”

“You could be spotted. That would be pretty bad,” you point out. 

“That’s why I have this.” He dangles the mask from between his fingers. “And a hat. I’m always prepared.”

“Right,” you say. 

Because he is. He lays out the logic so easily, so smoothly as he always does. That’s what Joshua does – assessment followed by a calm decision. Unlike you, he’s good at that. Maybe he should have been a lawyer, you think, in another universe.

“Okay, fine,” you relent at last. “But I’m telling you now: if you compare me to a perishable food item, I’m kicking you out immediately.”

He laughs at this, eyes folding into those perfectly happy crescents you missed so dearly. “Deal.”

In this moment, you can convince yourself that nothing’s changed. Maybe in another universe where neither of you left home, you would be like this – humming along to old music and sharing the occasional glance as you drive down the winding roads. 

Reality can wait, just for now.

It’s a long process, and you slowly feel yourself losing both patience and hope the longer it goes. There’s something off about each dress you try on – you can’t find the right size, the fit is weird, the color is off. Joshua tries his best to help, but you can only feel your exasperation growing by the minute.

“I like the sleeve details,” he says when you walk out in a forest green dress. He’s looking at you almost reverently, and you try very hard to ignore his sparkling eyes.

“It feels all wrong,” you say instead, shuffling over to the mirror. Joshua comes up beside you, hands in his pockets. He looks a bit silly, face covered by the mask and hat drawn low, but his presence is undeniably warm. “I don’t know, I don’t think this is it.”

Joshua hums. “Did you want anything specific?”

“No? I don’t know.” You sigh heavily, picking up the bottom of the dress so you don’t trip and fall on your face, and retreat back into the stall of the fitting room. “Sorry for dragging you into this, by the way.”

“Don’t apologize. I literally asked to come along,” Joshua says, with some mirth in his voice. 

“I know, but isn’t it frustrating?” You pull the soft fabric over your head carefully. “We’ve been here for nearly an hour already and I haven’t been able to make up my mind on a single dress.”

“That’s okay. You forget we’ve done this before.” Joshua pauses hesitantly. “And for what it’s worth… you look beautiful in each one.”

Oh. You can feel your cheeks heating up, and you press your palms to your face to calm yourself down. Joshua has always been good at saying things like that. And it is always sincere – he’s not the type of person to say something he doesn’t mean. Still, it’s surprising when the words leave his mouth, and they render you absolutely speechless.

Whatever. You shake it off, reaching for the last dress you’d brought in with you. It’s made of smooth, soft fabric, and you feel comfortable even as you slip into it easily. The chiffon is light yellow, and it reminds you faintly of the dress you’d worn to junior prom so long ago.

You don’t know what you expect, as you step tentatively out of the stall. Joshua sucks in a sharp breath as you approach him, waiting for any sort of feedback. But he says nothing, gaze transfixed on you. You revel in his appreciative stare, almond eyes almost admiring you under the angled light.

Eventually, he speaks up. “You look like–”

“Please don’t say butter again, or I’ll kill you.”

“Dawn,” he finishes, barely above a whisper. “You look like first dawn.”

That, you had not been expecting. Your fingers smooth down the fabric at your sides in an attempt to calm your heart down a little. He notices, mouth quirking up into a smile at the nervous habit you haven’t been able to drop since you were a teenager.

“How does it feel?” he asks, when you remain silent for a few more moments. 

“Good.” You dare to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fits just right where you had wanted it to, and hangs perfectly off of your shoulders and curves. “It feels good. Light.”

Joshua raises his eyebrows. “That’s definitely a step up from all of the other ones.”

“It is,” you say, fidgeting with the chiffon. “Should I get this one, do you think?”

“Up to you,” he says softly. Those eyes are dangerous. One look and you’ll melt – so you don’t. “But you look lovely. Truly.”

You snort. “That’s what you said last time.”

Joshua laughs quietly, recollecting the memory. “It is. But I meant it just as much.”

The sun is no longer hidden away when you finally walk back out onto the street, goal accomplished and dress acquired. Joshua walks just half a pace ahead of you, bag in hand. He had insisted, and you let him. 

It’s a difficult thing, saying no to someone you hold dear.

He’s talking in that smooth voice again, telling you an amusing story about Jeonghan and Seokmin. You feel bad – you’re only half paying attention, somewhat distracted by him. But the gears in your brain continue turning as you follow him down the street and he runs his hand through his wind-tousled hair.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Focus. He’s looking at you now, with worried eyes. You swear, those eyes will be your undoing. They always have been. You nod once, and then a second time when he asks if you’re sure. 

A gust of wind hits your face again, stinging your skin. It leaves you wondering whether Joshua still holds the memory of what happened eight years ago so close to his heart, too.

The calendar that hangs from your bedroom wall stares back at you ominously as you observe it with equal parts apprehension and relief.

Two weeks. Just under two weeks until Sumin’s wedding. Two weeks until you fly back to Boston, until the salt air and warm sand are just memories on your skin. 

Two weeks until you’re separated from Joshua, again.

Sighing, you flop back onto your bed. Leaving is inevitable. Perhaps you were never really meant to share your true feelings with him. The world has its ways of pulling you apart right when the words start to feel comfortable on your tongue.

But you hadn’t told him that night, had you? 

The night both you and Joshua had leaned in a little too close, nervous hands shaking a little too much. You still remember the way his warm breath brushed against the corner of your mouth, his careful fingers as they held yours–

It’s a memory you don’t dare to relive. You don’t know if you deserve to let yourself hope that maybe after all these years, you still have a place in his heart as well. It’s a far-fetched idea. But you can’t seem to let it go.

Instead, you pretend everything is just fine, all while you meet up with him whenever you’re free. The next week goes by in a blur, and the days aren’t quite as slow as you expected them to be. But maybe that’s the effect Joshua has on you. Everything feels more alive, somehow. Even the flowers seem to have more color when his laughter rings in your ears.

The two of you are always discreet, always careful not to be seen — but always comfortable. Soonyoung joins when he can, and Hajun, too, when he’s able. You’d forgotten how natural it had felt being in Joshua’s presence, how it was so easy to be yourself and not care about anything else.

Maybe it’s that ease that scares you more than anything else. You can feel yourself slipping even further as your heart becomes less yours, and more his. The careful walls you had constructed over the years begin to crumble slowly, but surely.

In any other circumstances, this would be a welcome development. But it’s not. There are so many reasons why you and Joshua can’t be, and they all begin to rear their ugly heads while you try your best to save your heart in the process.

“Noona, what’s wrong?”

Your head snaps up to meet Soonyoung’s curious face. He’d come over today to play basketball with Hajun, as promised. Joshua hadn’t tagged along – he was spending time with his mom, Soonyoung told you.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes. “Do I look tired?”

“No! Not at all,” he backtracks, panicking. It’s almost funny. “I was just wondering. You looked a little worried.”

That, you were. It’s a feeling that’s always creeping just under the surface, no matter how happy you’ve allowed yourself to be.

Still, you manage a smile at him. “I’m okay.”

Soonyoung accepts this answer, but his brows stay furrowed. He fidgets with the edge of his hoodie, something you’ve come to learn he does when he’s a bit nervous. 

“Noona, why did you really leave LA in the first place?”

You blink, wondering if you’d heard him right. “What do you mean?”

He sighs lightly, shoving his restless hands back into his pockets. When he does finally look back at you, there’s a mixture of understanding and sadness in his eyes.

“Hyung told us everything. Well, not all of us. Just me and Jeonghan hyung,” he clarifies quickly at your widened eyes. “I told him he needed to talk to you, but he didn’t know how. Or if you’d want that.”

“It’s complicated,” you tell him, even as your heart squeezes. Oh, Joshua. Had you truly seemed so unapproachable to him, the person who once knew you better than anyone else? “I had the choice between staying or leaving for university. And at the time, it was too painful to stay.”

“You don’t need to answer me,” Soonyoung adds wisely. He doesn’t have to say more. You know all too well what he means, and you look away sharply. All these years you had chosen to resent Joshua, over and over again. 

But it takes two to tango, doesn’t it? There were many times you could have stepped in, so many opportunities to reconnect with him, and you didn’t do anything. It was the easiest thing to do, to stay upset, that you never thought about the irreparable damage your stubbornness would do above all else.

“I know, Soonyoung,” you murmur. “I know.”

He gives you a warm smile that’s meant to be comforting just as Hajun bounds down the stairs, basketball in hand. The thought remains with you even after both boys leave, and all the way until the next time you see Joshua.

And your fate must have struck a deal with the ocean, because it is always on the shore that Joshua finds you. Why is it that the restless waves are always there to bear witness between the two of you?

You recognize him instantly this time. “Oh, hi.”

He offers you a smile, sidestepping a rock and shuffling down the sandy slope. You’ve seen him fall on this exact square foot of sand so many times in your youth. He doesn’t slip now, anchoring his feet securely. You have changed, but so has he.

“You’re here late,” he observes, not taking the spot beside you until you gesture for him to do so. “I thought you’d be home.”

“Just needed some air.” You shoot him a look. “Shouldn’t you be home, too?”

“Soonyoung left, and I’m bored. You’re not the only one who likes to be out and about,” he replies cheekily. Despite yourself, you smile.

Out of the corner of your eye, you allow yourself to look at him a little extra, to memorize the soft curve of his face and his doe eyes. He has grown up over time, but this has not changed – the light in his smile, or the gentleness he carries with him. 

At times you wonder if things might have been different. After all, this had not been the plan the two of you had made for yourselves. Neither of you was supposed to leave home, and go so far.

But what did that mean, exactly? You were so young. Whatever you thought was supposed to happen wasn’t necessarily the future you were going to experience. Joshua left to chase his dream of being a singer, and you left for an opportunity you were lucky to get. There was nothing wrong with that.

It was different, though. And different is always hard, even if it is good.

“Joshua, I’m sorry.”

This seems to get his attention. He shifts so he’s facing you more, eyebrows knit together. “What? What for?”

“... Everything.” You look into his eyes, and the words suddenly come tumbling forth. “I was scared of losing you. But then what did happen was so much worse.”

“It wasn’t–”

“It was,” you say firmly. “Don’t say it wasn’t my fault. I pushed you away, Josh, when all you wanted was to go and follow your dreams. I feel like an idiot.”

Joshua sighs, shuffling a bit closer to you. Hesitantly, he loops an arm around your shoulders, and you let your head rest against him.

“You weren’t out of line for being upset,” he tells you softly. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have kept it from you, that I was leaving.”

You huff out a guilty laugh. “I can’t believe I resented you for so long. It feels so stupid, looking back.”

“I figured you felt that way,” Joshua says, a touch of sadness seeping into his voice. “I tried getting in touch with you after getting to Seoul. But I think you changed your number. And then you were never here, when I’d come to visit. Your mom would always say you just left, or that you’d be back later. But I never saw you.”

That was true. You had been guilty of scheduling your visits around Joshua. Your parents, oblivious to the falling out the two of you had, were always telling you about when he was coming to LA again. But you never gave in, dead set on avoiding him for the rest of your life.

“It was hard,” you say. It feels like a silly excuse, but it’s the truth. “I didn’t know how I’d face you again, after essentially ruining our friendship.”

“We were just sixteen,” Joshua murmurs quietly. “We did a lot of dumb things. But you didn’t ruin anything.”

“Josh, you don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

“I mean it,” he insists. “And it’s not like I’m entirely faultless, too. You’ll always be my best friend. That hasn’t changed.”

You peek up at him. “You better not tell Yoon Jeonghan you said that, or he’ll throw a fit.”

Joshua laughs. “It can be our little secret.”

As you settle back against him, you feel a bit lighter. Maybe Soonyoung was right, and all you needed to do was talk about it. The night feels less suffocating, now that you’re more at ease. The stars seem to shine in the same way Joshua’s eyes do when he gets really excited about something, or when a particularly mischievous idea crosses his mind.

You never did stop loving both sides of him. The calm, and the storm. Because it’s not a true balance if there is only one, is it? He brings the waves, and he brings the dawn.

Joshua Hong has never been more yours than he is right now, in this moment.

Next to you, you feel him shift a little, finding a more comfortable way to sit on the large rock. A soft giggle escapes you as you move to your left, allowing him more space. He mumbles a soft thanks under his breath, and you pick up on the smell of coffee that lingers on his clothes.

“I still have it, you know,” he says suddenly. “The note you left me.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That was such a distant memory, that you had effectively chosen to forget about it in the years that had passed. It was something embarrassing that you didn’t wish to associate with yourself any longer, because if there was one way you envisioned yourself admitting your feelings to Joshua, it was not that one.

“You still have it? But that was so long ago.” Involuntarily, your mind brings you flashes of memories from that night. “That was when…”

Joshua has the grace to nod so you don’t have to finish your sentence. “I know.”

“And–”

“I know that, too,” he says, almost mournfully. His lips are pursed in that look you know he only wears when his heart is torn. “I know you said you regretted it. But I didn’t. And I didn’t know how to tell you, so I kept it to myself. I just lived with the fact that I was never going to forget what happened that night.”

Your head is spinning. Violently. “I… what are you saying?”

He just looks at you knowingly, before turning his gaze to the ocean. “You don’t have to say anything yet. Take my words as you want, and nothing more.” 

And there’s that smile again, his way of telling you it’s okay. It doesn’t work now, as your heart accelerates at a pace that is beyond normal. 

Wasn’t this what you had wanted? The truth was, you hadn’t regretted it at all. For years you had wondered if he even remembered the soft brush of your lips against his, if he even cared. Now you have the answer, but it feels heavier than you ever could have expected. It brings you a crippling dread you can’t afford to ignore.

“Joshua, we can’t.”

He doesn’t frown, or furrow his brows at you. Rather, his expression barely shifts at all – but you can easily pick out the emotion that flashes in his eyes. Years and years of practice do not go to waste so fast. He doesn’t ask why, either, silently prompting you to go on.

“You’re leaving,” you continue, voice coming out a little more panicked than you intended. “I’m leaving. And you… you can’t be caught up in all of this. You have more important things to worry about.”

Now, Joshua’s eyes flare up with a hint of vexation. “Why do you get to decide whether or not you’re important to me?”

The question barrels into you, and then over your mind. “Eight years, Joshua! How are we supposed to treat eight years like it’s nothing?”

“I’m not asking that of you,” he says quietly. “I’m not asking anything of you, except for you to know this. That’s all.”

You scramble to your feet. Joshua follows uncertainly, like he isn’t sure what to say or do. Your chest rises and falls with every sharp breath you take as you attempt to steady yourself.

“We can’t,” you repeat. “You have a whole career ahead of you. And I won’t be here. There’s a timer on this, Josh, on us, and it’s all going to fall apart after that.”

“You don’t know that,” he counters.

“I don’t have to!”

He’s about to say something, but he stops himself, taking a deep breath instead. This has always been a quality of his, to be able to take a step back even in times of anger. You, on the other hand, are not like that at all.

When he speaks next, his words punch the air out of you. 

“Why do you have to be so harsh on yourself all the time? You’re allowed to let yourself be happy. It’s not a luxury, or something to reach for. It’s something you deserve. You don’t have to earn it.”

“Now you’re lecturing me about my own feelings?” You glower at him angrily. “What do you know about feelings, Joshua? Where were your feelings when you didn’t tell me you were going to Seoul until I forced it out of you?”

Almost immediately, you regret saying it. Joshua flinches like your words have burned him physically.

“I’m not saying I never made my share of mistakes,” he says finally. At last, you seem to have cracked his calm exterior, and his agitation is much clearer now. “So have you. So has everyone. But that doesn’t mean we’re all awful people.”

You huff in frustration. “You really are the worst person to argue with, Joshua Hong. Truly.”

“You could have left,” he points out. “You certainly wanted to.”

“But I didn’t,” you hiss, taking an irate step forward. “Because I still care about you, idiot! You keep going on and on about being happy and letting myself feel these things and I’m trying to, but it’s not working, because I love you and I shouldn’t!”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Joshua asks it like it’s a challenge, and yet his eyes are pleading. “What’s stopping you? Tell me.”

An answer forms itself on the tip of your tongue. But one look into his shiny eyes and your throat constricts impossibly, dragging the words back where they came from. You look away sharply.

“I need to go.”

“Is that it?” Joshua’s question is soft, with an undertone of hurt. “You’re just going to walk away?”

“Yes, before I say something I regret,” you snap, suddenly feeling cornered. “I should have left a while ago. I should never have come here in the first place.”

Every new thing you say is a weapon in its own right. Joshua takes each one with grace that you don’t deserve, as if he already understands. He shouldn’t. You wish he didn’t. It’s selfish of you, but you wish he would make it easier for you to turn your back on his injured expression.

“Drive safe,” he calls after you. There’s no sign of ire in his voice, only resignation. 

It provokes you even more, but what good will it do to get angry over a mere fact? You have always known this, that your temper rivals even the world’s most explosive volcanoes, and yet Joshua has always stayed a calm river.

You don’t respond. You don’t know what you might say if you do, and you aren’t sure if it’ll be something you can’t take back. It’s an admirable feat, that you manage to hold your composure until you get into your car, slamming the door with such force that the entire vehicle shakes. You can still see Joshua from where you’ve parked; he sits on the large rock, gazing out at the waves.

Ultimately, you can’t find it in you to start the car. Hopeless, like you and Joshua with only one week left on the clock. You let your head fall to the wheel and try your best not to cry, unaware that your best friend has already begun to shed tears of his own.

It’s beautiful. Sumin is beautiful. The venue is, for lack of a better word, jaw-droppingly gorgeous.

Except for the white roses. That was always one thing you could never understand. You were told they were popular choices for weddings. They stand for purity, Sumin told you. Innocence. New beginnings. But what’s the purpose of love if it doesn’t splash everywhere in a thrilling show of color, if it just sits there muted and unassuming?

Either way, the flowers match the color scheme perfectly. It’s precisely the kind of scene Sumin had wanted, so you take it all in and settle in your seat.

A hanging petal falls off one of the roses and lands gently on your hair. You brush it off your head and watch as it tumbles to the ground, its smooth white now tainted by dust.

Hajun seems to sense that something is wrong. He always does. He has known you for his entire life, and so there are not many things you can hide from him. Still, he asks no questions as you clap when you’re supposed to, settling for a curious look in your direction.

All you want is to leave. To go home. Whether that is your parents’ house, your cozy apartment in Boston, or Joshua’s gentle voice, you don’t know. The lighting is quite harsh, and you can feel yourself beginning to sweat a little bit. Thankfully, the chiffon feels cool against your skin, the butter yellow fabric draped perfectly over your body.

No, not butter. Dawn, Joshua had said. First dawn. You hadn’t really felt very sunny as you put it on this morning, but you held onto the way he had looked at you when you first stepped out in front of him, the hushed awe in his tone. 

If anything, it’s him that feels like the beginning of summer, when the sun isn’t yet strong and the days slowly begin to get longer. What you would give to see that smile, so beloved by millions across the world!

But you had gone and ruined it all, hadn’t you? He probably wouldn’t ever speak to you again – you had been so needlessly sharp, when all he wanted was to talk.

Sumin floats over to you in her newly wedded bliss, and you snap out of it. You let her hug you, feeling a bit of the happiness that seems to radiate from her.

“I’m glad you could make it,” she says warmly. Her fiancé smiles politely. “Come home more often, won’t you? I know everyone misses you.”

“I’ll try,” you say. It’s the best you can offer. You hadn’t meant for this trip to be as long as it turned out, either. Usually, you were only here for several days or a weekend. That too, months or years apart.

Maybe Joshua was right. The things he had said when you first saw him had struck a chord somewhere, even though you didn’t particularly want to admit it. Was that why the mournful feeling never fully went away? California was a part of you, after all, and always will be. Perhaps it wasn’t right to consciously shut that chapter of your life out.

It’s colder than you expect when you’re finally ready to head home. If it was up to you, you might have left several hours ago. You didn’t really care for all of the shallow greetings and well wishes most people didn’t truly mean, and by the first sign of dusk you were eager to be back in your comfortable bed. 

You need the sleep, after all. Unwisely, you had booked an early flight back, and you can’t afford to be exhausted tomorrow.

Hajun lingers at your door when you walk into your room and sink into your bed. You need to get changed, but the moment of respite for your feet comes first. When you open your eyes, he’s still standing there, a bit hesitantly. 

You sit up. “Is anything wrong?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” He gestures, asking if he can come in, and you point to the little old wooden stool you’ve had for ages. “You’re not great at hiding when you’re upset.”

“I’m not–”

“Upset, I know,” Hajun interrupts smoothly. “But you’re not fooling anyone, noona. And you can talk about it, you know. I hate that every time you come home, you end up leaving in a worse mood than before, and you keep it all to yourself.”

You mull over his words as you yank a few bobby pins out of your hair, setting them on your dresser with a little more force than necessary.

“I talked to Joshua,” you say.

“Oh.”

‘Oh’ is right. If you were in his position right now, you probably would have reacted the same way. The poor guy is watching you with wide eyes and his jaw slightly dropped, waiting for any further explanation you might give.

“And?” he prompts when you don’t elaborate.

“And nothing.” You huff out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know why I let Soonyoung talk me into thinking that was a good idea. All I did was make him hate me even more than before.”

“He never hated you,” Hajun says.

“That’s what you think.” Even saying it sends a jolt through you, as if you needed any sort of reminder of the damage your words might have dealt. Tears spring to your eyes as you swipe at them furiously, determined not to break down in front of your brother. “It’s essentially over, Hajun. I ruined it myself.”

“I know it might feel that way, but–”

“Don’t you get it? It’s just done.” You give up trying to calm yourself down, and within seconds your cheeks are wet. Hajun is beside you in a moment, looking at you worriedly. “I don’t know what to do, I never know what to do. I told him we shouldn’t talk again, but that might have been the worst decision I’ve ever made in my life.”

“You could still take it back, maybe. I’m sure he would be willing to listen to you.”

You shake your head vigorously, because Hajun is right. Of course he would; Joshua bears an immeasurable amount of patience, but that’s a favor you don’t deserve. And even so, you’re not sure you have it in you to hand him your heart and then walk away.

It’s not necessarily your fault, and it’s certainly not his. But it’s his dream, his life’s work, that ties him to Seoul. And the last thing you want to do is stand between him and it.

“I wish I didn’t feel so much,” you murmur numbly, sniffling. 

“There’s nothing wrong with feeling,” Hajun tells you. It makes your heart squeeze. Your little brother – when had he become so wise? He lets you rest your head on his shoulder as you attempt to pull yourself together, patting your head awkwardly. 

Growing up, it was you who had been his rock, his safe space. It didn’t matter how viciously or how often you fought, but you were always there. Maybe that was what had changed over the years. You stayed away, and he grew up, too. Nothing is ever linear, especially not change.

You wake with dread the next morning, with no particular reason why. The sun watches as you put the last of your things away in your suitcase, scouring the room for anything else you might need to take back with you.

In the third drawer of your desk, you find it – an old, dusty Polaroid photo. 

The faces in it are unmistakable, even as you brush away the dust to take a closer look. You thought you had lost it all those years ago, as you were packing up your life in a bunch of suitcases to go start university. But here it is now, the picture of you and Joshua at the beach, a memory frozen in time. So young and happy, so unaware of what was to come. 

Before you can change your mind, you slip it into your pocket.

You take one last look at your bedroom before you shut the door. It will not be your last time here, of course. But you’re not sure how long it’ll be until you’re here again, until you will be brave enough to face everything you have left behind.

Downstairs, everything is quiet as you bring your belongings down. It’s mid-morning; Hajun must have left for class already. The kitchen is empty, sunlight beaming down onto the wooden flooring – a familiar sight. But you move along quickly, suspecting your father is waiting outside with the car like he’d said he would be.

However, the vehicle out front is decidedly not his. You squint at it once, then twice before you realize where you’ve seen it before, and the owner steps out of the driver’s seat.

“Josh, why are you here?”

He graces you with a smile so kind you almost want to dig a hole and burrow yourself into it. He doesn’t say anything, only gestures for you to pass him your bags so he can get them into the trunk. There is no bitterness in his expression, no resentment in his eyes – only a strange wistfulness you feel in your soul – and it makes you feel even more guilty, that he is giving you the treatment you certainly do not deserve.

Finally, you pick up the courage to ask him. “Why…?”

“Your dad had to run to the office. He asked me to drive you to the airport.” Joshua has no problem meeting your eyes. His have always been clear, always transparent. That’s how you learned to read them, ever since you were just a kid.

“You didn’t have to,” you mumble, getting into the passenger seat.

He tilts his head, a habit he has never lost. “I wanted to.”

The sincerity in his voice is heart-wrenching. Your grip on the seatbelt tightens impossibly, and you wonder if breaking your own heart in order to spare his is truly what was meant to happen to the two of you all along.

The drive is silent, save for whatever music he’s got playing in the background. You’re not paying it any attention. The only thing you can think about is how it’s twenty more minutes to the airport, twenty more minutes until Joshua will only be yours through a TV screen. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he drives, eyes trained on the road. But you don’t miss the way his grip on the wheel tightens when he notices your eyes on him, or how he relaxes when you look away.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. He glances over at you.

“You keep apologizing for things that aren’t your fault,” he says.

“Still, though.”

Joshua gives you a half-smile, eyes somewhat crinkling into those crescents you have always loved. 

“I’m sorry, too.”

In the late morning light, you wonder if there is ever another universe where things go to plan. If in that universe, both of you stayed. Maybe it never would have come to this at all. Maybe you would have been a bit more brave, and he a bit more selfish.

More than that, you wonder how many more years it will take you to fall out of love with him. Because you know it to be the truth, that if you do not will it, it won’t ever happen. You had already handed him your heart when you were just teenagers, and whether he knew it or not, he had taken it.

The familiar bustle of the airport comes into view far quicker than you would have liked. A strange sense of melancholy pools in your stomach and settles there, like things are coming to a close now. Like this is the end. You take your bags as Joshua hoists them out of the trunk, tugging his hat low over his face so that nobody recognizes him.

He gives you a long look as you shut the door. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You aren’t sure what to say to that. Has eight years not made you both strangers enough? It pains you to think of how much further you’ll have drifted the next time you see each other, if you do.

“I’ll try.”

“Good,” he says with some relief. “Don’t forget you’re my best friend just because you’re all the way in Boston.”

“Well, you already have twelve of them with you,” you point out wryly.

“I do. And they’re all irreplaceable.” Still, Joshua looks at you like he knows you inside out. “But so are you.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat as soon as it begins to form. No goodbye could ever compare to this one. You can’t press yourself into his side like you so desperately want, or lean into his comforting touch one more time. So you settle for a smile, basking in his warmth from afar this time.

A thought hits you, as you put your hands in your pockets.

“Wait,” you say hesitantly. Joshua only raises his eyebrows, patient as always. You pull out the photo you’d stashed away, holding it out to him. “I found this.”

Joshua traces your silhouettes in the picture, a faint grin on his face. The memory had not been so forgotten, after all.

“I remember,” he murmurs, with wistful eyes. “Your sixteenth birthday.”

It had been just two weeks before you found out he was going to leave for Seoul. You remember every minute of it, how you had been so excited to try your new camera. There were a lot of other photos you tried taking, but this was the only one that developed well.

“You should keep it,” you tell him. “So you don’t forget me.”

“I don’t think I ever could,” he says, but he tucks it carefully into his pocket anyway.

He doesn’t say his goodbyes. Neither do you. Deep down, maybe it’s because you’re both holding out hope that this might not be the last time you meet like this. After all, it won’t do to stay resigned to a fate you never once wished upon yourself.

But you do look behind you. Only once, just before you pass through the glass double doors.

Joshua waves.

You wave back.

Everything else is a blur. You move through the airport almost robotically, only stopping to take a call from your parents and respond to several texts from Ayun. There is no time to sit and experience the boredom that usually manifests while waiting at the gate, or sitting through a six-hour flight, not when your mind is full and your heart is heavy.

Sleep is futile, too. All you can see when you close your eyes is your best friend. Joshua, full of hopes and aspirations at just sixteen. Joshua, the night he tried talking to you one more time before he had to leave for Seoul.

Joshua, looking at you pleadingly with eyes that mirrored yours.

It’s all in the past, though. The world never waits for these kinds of things. It will keep on spinning. You will return to your little apartment in the city, and Joshua to his stage. It’s enough seeing him thrive under the lights and loud cheers many, many miles away. You suppose you’ll just have to live with that feeling forever.

The air is decidedly different when you step off the plane and into the airport. These walls are familiar, though not as familiar as home. It is much colder than you remember it being, and you shiver a little as you make your way out. The sky is gray and cloudy, vastly different from the blues that stretched out over Los Angeles, but it is still beautiful in its own right.

Your phone buzzes. It’s Ayun, most likely, wondering when you’ll be home. You’ve got half a mind to answer her now, but you don’t want to stop and pull your phone out, not when you’ve gained so much momentum already.

Soon, you think. I’ll be home soon.

Maybe home doesn’t have to be one place. Maybe it moves with you, shifting and changing as you go. The realization is warm in your chest, radiating all the way to your fingertips. Even if for just a moment, you feel a little better.

It’s still early in the afternoon back in California, but they’ll catch up soon. They always do. That, perhaps, is the beauty of time.

A snowflake falls gently, landing on your head. The first snow of February. It melts fast, disappearing into your hair, but nature always leaves a trace. Everything does, even the ghost of a memory that’s soft on your lips. 

Winter caresses your cheeks like a loving sting, and you step out into the street.

PROFILES (I) — high strings

PROFILES (II) — low strings

PROFILES (III) — woodwinds

PROFILES (IV) — brass

PROFILES (V) — percussion

01 — spider on the wall

02 — proxy dating

03 — why is it called dress rehearsal

04 — sour cream & onion chips

05 — clinically insane

06 — joshua's birthday bash

Easy in the way that you can afford to sit on your padded armchair by the window, and leisurely watch the rain. Droplets fall on the glass and trickle away the same way time does — slowly, little by little. You suppose this is what happens when you have all of eternity at your disposal.

On the sidewalk, a young woman scurries to the door of her apartment building, caught unfortunately without her umbrella. You click your tongue. Humans are always running, always rushing; they hurry to their next destination, constantly trying to save time.

It's unthinkable, to you.

The poor girl's hair is absolutely drenched by the time she finds shelter under the awning. It was 1852, if you remember correctly, when some Derbyshire lad first invented the modern umbrella. You hadn't bothered buying one at the time. You rather liked to amble along in the pouring rain, letting it soak your skin the way the sun might have if you were able to bask in it.

There is a knock on your door just as the girl manages to buzz into her building. A small grin curves on your mouth. You know exactly who it is.

"Come in!"

The door creaks open, and heavy footsteps pad through the doorway. You welcome your visitor with a warm smile as he appears into the small living room area, and hold your mug out slightly as if to offer him some.

"Blood?"

"How many times do I have to tell you to lock your door?" Junhui asks, shaking his head. "There are some crazy folks out there."

"If someone tried to kill me, I'd gladly take it over having to live on to the end of time."

"Don't say that," he huffs, eyeing the mug in your hand. "Do you happen to have any more of that?"

You laugh. "In the fridge."

Junhui bows dramatically in thanks before making a beeline toward your kitchen, glasses slightly askew. The rain doesn't feel as heavy with him here. It's a little less lonely when he's around — you consider yourself lucky to not have to brave eternity by yourself, not entirely. Whenever a stray thought crosses your mind, or you want to reminisce on a memory that occurred some several hundred years ago, all you need to do is take the elevator one floor up.

That, or he comes to you, which is what usually ends up happening.

He cozies himself into the second chair you'd bought only because of him, when the two of you needed to move cities again and chose this specific apartment building. The mug nestled between his hands reminds you of your brief residence in Poland-Lithuania in the early 1700s. You'd bought it carelessly then, quickly taking it off the hands of an elderly neighbor who was selling her belongings.

Now it is mostly used by your closest, and only friend.

"You know, it would be so much easier if we lived together," Junhui says absently. "We'd save on rent. I wouldn't have to take the stairs when the elevator breaks. And you wouldn't miss me as much."

"Bold assumption on that last one," you bite back. But you smile, and he knows you don't mean a word of it. "Where have you been the past few weeks?"

"Shenzhen."

You look up all of a sudden. "Really?"

"Yeah." He shrugs, brows slanting. "I mean, it's been — what, two hundred years? — since I went back and visited. I thought I should at least go see what's become of it now."

"And?"

Junhui shakes his head, half in awe and half mourning. "Unrecognizable."

The feeling isn't foreign to you. You hadn't bothered to go back to your hometown at all, not even once since your old life ended and your new one began.

But Junhui has always been far more sentimental than you. He likes to hold onto memories, clinging them tightly to his chest instead of letting them flutter away in the wind, as they always do. He takes delight in remembering, in reliving. He told you once, that to honor a memory is to believe in such a time.

"In a good or a bad way?"

"Well, good," he says. "It's a beautiful city now — buildings everywhere, streets sprawling. They're doing really well, it seems."

You soften, knowing he hadn't had any of that ease growing up. "Maybe you can go back for a little while."

"Someday."

"Someday," you echo.

Junhui takes another long sip from his mug, sharp features settling into slight unease, and tucks his legs closer to his body. He's tall, with ridiculous proportions, and sometimes you wonder how he manages to fit on the little old chair.

"I visited Wonwoo," he says.

"Ah."

"Yeah. Flew into Busan on my way back." A beat. Then, "He's doing good."

You don't say anything. It's best not to, at times like this. Instead, you turn your head slightly, allowing him the privacy he seems to need. Giving him space, but making sure he's not alone. It's something you're used to.

"Did you bring him sunflowers?"

His voice cracks. "I did."

Junhui exhales a long breath, plasters on a smile you see directly through. He's terrible at doing this. He wears his heart on his sleeve, every emotion there for you to read even when he doesn't say a word. His eyes betray him more often than not. They speak volumes when his mouth refuses to.

"I shouldn't be like this," he says quietly. "It's been a century, nearly."

You shift slightly, pulling your shawl tighter around your shoulders. "It's okay to grieve."

"I know." He sighs, lashes just barely brushing skin. "But… it's just stupid."

"No, it's not," you counter. "You'll still feel, Junhui. There's no way to just magically turn it off."

Junhui says nothing, but you watch the way your words sink into him like a harsh truth. Memories tended to blur together as the decades slipped by, but you can't ever forget the way he had sobbed at Wonwoo's funeral, the grief wracking through his body. He had been empty for so long afterwards, living like a man with no soul. It pained you to see it.

In the years that followed, you never succeeded in consoling him. Theirs was a decades-long friendship, after all, and time is measured differently for one who has all of it in his hands.

During your time living in South Korea, you had watched them go from strangers to the dearest of friends. He had been one of the few humans Junhui had ever trusted with his identity, which he did not do easily. Even after some time had passed, and people began to grow suspicious of your ever-youthful appearance, Wonwoo had continued to keep in touch regularly. The last letter he sent had been dated July 3rd, just two weeks shy of his birthday and several days before he passed away.

Junhui visited his grave every year, without fail. And he never went without sunflowers.

He shakes his head, as if it'll shake the memory of his friend away, too. You know that it won't.

"He lived a good, long life," you say softly.

"It is what it is," he agrees. "Life, then death, and life again."

"Not for us, I suppose."

He smiles sadly. "Touché."

Junhui brings his mug to his mouth, and when he lowers it again, his lips are stained a blooming red. It contrasts rather beautifully with his sharp features and the paleness of his face.

"Why'd you come down here, anyway?"

He shrugs, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Got bored. There's only so much Dickens you can read before you feel like you're losing your mind."

"You have a TV for a reason," you deadpan. "The humans are coming up with new technology every year now, you might as well use it."

A little smile creeps onto his mouth, and you allow yourself a good look at it. From here, you can see each one of his moles and the tiny sparkle in his eyes.

"Why would I do that when I come downstairs and bother you?" he teases, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I know you wouldn't have enjoyed Mulholland Drive without me."

"I didn't even enjoy it with you."

"That's just you having bad taste."

This draws a sharp laugh from your throat. Junhui looks pleased with himself, soft laughter bubbling from his own chest. Perhaps this is the sort of thing you must treasure now. Your centuries of exploration and seeking novelty are far behind you, but good company is something you will only ever chance upon if you are exceedingly lucky.

"If you're that bored, you can finish my crossword puzzle book," you say, "and I can finally finish my show."

"What an exciting evening you are having." Junhui stands, carefully setting the mug down on the windowsill. "Where is it?"

You wave a hand in the general direction of your room. "Somewhere on that bookshelf. I haven't touched it in at least two years now."

"You're horrendous," he says, but the playful undertone is still there.

He disappears into your bedroom, and you head to the sink to wash the mugs. The blood rinses away easily; it always does. But you still scrub the ceramic thoroughly before turning on the faucet again. Normalcy, whatever that means anymore, is something you can only find in the little things now.

Junhui's lying on your floor in the living room when you're finally done, the eraser end of the pencil between his teeth and brows furrowed as he ponders a particularly difficult clue. You chuckle to yourself at the sight.

"Quit chewing on that," you tell him. "What's got you all confused?"

"It's— ah, never mind, I got it." He takes the pencil out of his mouth to scribble an answer in the boxes, before looking up at you. "What are you doing? Come sit."

Sighing, you make yourself comfortable on the floor, remote in hand. Junhui lets out an excited ah! as you turn on the TV and he fills in another answer. The sight is not unfamiliar to you. Still, it warms your heart every time. You have spent many a rainy day alone, just you and your thoughts. But those days are long gone now.

You find yourself unable to focus on the episode, no matter how much you try. Your eyes keep straying to Junhui, to the man you call your friend. Perhaps he's not quite that anymore, but who are you to care? He is always so alive despite being quite the opposite, so eager to learn and explore everything in the world, and you find him that much more charming for it.

Under the soft light of your living room, he seems to glow. His eyes shine, and it highlights the soft slope of his cheekbones. In a simple word, he is quite beautiful.

"You're staring," he says quietly. It's not a question. But you still nod.

"Yes." You scoot a little closer, and he finally looks up at you. "Did you know your eyes are amber?"

"I didn't," he laughs. "How could I? All these bathroom mirrors are essentially useless."

"They're the color of honey. Very smooth. Very golden," you continue. "Remember when we visited that beekeeper in Peru?"

"Mm-hm." He doesn't take his eyes off you. "Tell me more."

You hum lightly under your breath, eyes tracing his features. "You've got a lot of moles, actually."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Carefully, you reach out, fingertips brushing his skin. He doesn't start, just melts into your touch as he watches you silently. "Here, here, and… here."

You ghost your fingers over the top of his mouth, just shy of his upper lip. His breath is soft and warm against your skin. In his eyes is something that stirs a faint emotion in the tightness of your chest.

"You have one, too," he says. "Just under your eye. Like a star."

You smile. "We match, then."

Junhui's gaze is soft as it settles over you like a warm blanket. Your hand falls away from his face, but your eyes stay on his, enraptured. For a brief moment, you feel like the distance between the two of you is magnetized by an impossibly invisible force.

Then he huffs out an incredulous laugh, eyes shining with mirth.

"Sucks," he says.

You frown. "What?"

"'Good or bad vacuum cleaner review'," he recites, pointing to the crossword puzzle. There's only one clue left, and he crosses it out, penciling in the word with ease. "That one had me stuck for a while."

The laughter bubbles out of you unbidden. "That's why I gave up on it."

Junhui flashes you an amused smile. Centuries of friendship means he knows you inside out, after all. Wordlessly, he flips the page to a brand new puzzle, and the pencil's eraser goes back between his teeth out of pure habit.

Outside, the rain has finally stopped.

002, gently: Listen, we had no information to go off before voting. I’m genuinely sorry, but this was just poor luck. It could have even been me, or you.

005 | SOONYOUNG: So everyone decided to gang up on him? That’s what you’re telling me?

006 | WONWOO: Hey, you know it’s not like that.

007 | JIHOON, shaking: It wasn’t… I wasn’t…

[SOONYOUNG’s trembling fingers clutch onto the sleeves of JIHOON’s jacket tightly. He pulls him into a crushing hug, maybe hoping he will be able to shield him from any bullet that tries to come his way. But SOONYOUNG cannot outplay the game. He feels the exact moment his friend goes limp in his arms. The same laser that took out CHAN blazes through JIHOON’s right eye. SOONYOUNG cannot stop the tears that fall from his eyes.]

005 | SOONYOUNG: No. No, no, no. This has to be a prank, or something.

004 | JUNHUI: I’m sorry, Soonyoung. It’s not.

“NIGHT HAS FALLEN. EVERYONE, LOWER YOUR HEADS.”

[SOONYOUNG refuses to let go of his friend. Players 002 and 003 attempt to coax him to put his head down and comply with the game, but he does not.]

005 | SOONYOUNG: I can’t keep playing this game. I can’t.

003: Didn’t you hear what Junhui said last round? You can’t back out now, or you’ll die, too! 

002: I’m sure your friend would have wanted you to be able to get out. For him, at least, if not for yourself.

005 | SOONYOUNG, angrily: None of you know what he would have wanted. None of you!

[Even so, SOONYOUNG puts his head down reluctantly, and the game continues. Someone lets out a deep sigh when the voice calls for the mafia to eliminate a player, and the sound of knuckles cracking can be heard throughout the bar.]

“DETECTIVE, RAISE YOUR HEAD AND SELECT ONE PLAYER ON YOUR DEVICE WHOSE IDENTITY YOU WOULD LIKE TO REVEAL.”

[The detective is meticulous with his decision, as he always is. He presses a number confidently, and a green circle appears on the screen, indicating a civilian. He sighs, either in relief or distress. It was not the piece of information he had been hoping for.]

005 | SOONYOUNG, murmuring: God, my head hurts like hell.

“DETECTIVE, LOWER YOUR HEAD. DOCTOR, RAISE YOUR HEAD AND SELECT A PLAYER ON YOUR DEVICE YOU WOULD LIKE TO SAVE.”

[The doctor raises his head calmly, entirely unaware that his identity was just checked. Unlike the last round, he has a player in mind this time.]

“DOCTOR, LOWER YOUR HEAD. MORNING HAS COME. EVERYONE, RAISE YOUR HEADS.”

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Am I dead yet?

006 | WONWOO: Oh, come on. Please don’t joke about these things.

“NO PLAYER HAS BEEN ELIMINATED. EVERYONE, YOUR THIRTY MINUTE DISCUSSION PERIOD BEGINS NOW.”

[There is an immediate ripple of shock throughout the group. Only the doctor remains nonplussed, rather proud of his intuition in the matter.]

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Wait, who did the doctor save?

010: I don’t think they’re going to say. That’s really risky right now.

002: Seokmin’s right. Although that would be nice, if we could use it to figure out who might have wanted that person dead.

004 | JUNHUI: Right, but we won’t know for sure. Remember the rules? Each mafia could have picked someone different, and whoever got saved could have been just one of three. I don’t think it’s that big of a clue.

002: Oh, you’re right. Well, if the doctor is willing, we’d like to hear from him. If not, I’m open to any other suggestions.

001: You seem to know a lot about how the mafia choose their victims, 004.

004 | JUNHUI: If there’s one thing I’ve learned from these games, it’s that you always have to pay attention to the rules. I thought you of all people would know that already, Seungcheol.

[SEUNGCHEOL bristles at the remark, but JUNHUI does not drop the serious look on his face. However, doubt is already beginning to rise, and everyone is looking at each other cautiously.]

008 | MINGHAO: Listen, I don’t know how the rest of you are voting. But if there is one thing I know right now, it’s that I personally trust Junhui. As for the others… I don’t think it’s Soonyoung, and I don’t think it’s 006 over there.

011, curiously: Oh – really? Why do you think so?

003: Yes, how can you be so sure?

008 | MINGHAO: I trust my intuition, above all else. Besides, you all just saw how Soonyoung reacted. That was real.

[SOONYOUNG’s shoulders slump again, his eyes trailing to JIHOON’s body on the floor. Two down, eleven left. How many more people have to die?]

006 | WONWOO: Soonyoung, you look like you have something on your mind. Please tell us.

[Slowly, SOONYOUNG stands. He takes a moment to scan the room, before suddenly rushing to the opposite side.]

005 | SOONYOUNG, pointing directly at 011: Him!

011: Huh?

003: Wait, you think it’s Vernon?

002, to SEOKMIN: Look at the poor guy. He’s getting grilled, but he looks so surprised. Should we say something?

004 | JUNHUI: Hold on, I don’t think it’s him.

010 | SEOKMIN, raising his hand: Wait, I want to hear the reasoning behind this first. We still have fifteen minutes on the clock.

005 | SOONYOUNG: Let me tell you! It’s because…

[Suddenly, SOONYOUNG whirls around almost 360 degrees, his index finger quickly switching targets to player 009.]

005 | SOONYOUNG, loudly: It’s him!

001 | SEUNGCHEOL, facepalming: What on earth…

002: Wait, I don’t think I agree. I trust Mingyu, a lot.

008 | MINGHAO: Why? Just because you two are friends? You don’t know what card he could have been dealt.

002, frowning: Isn’t that the same reason you trust Junhui?

008 | MINGHAO: That’s different.

002: Is it really, though?

005 | SOONYOUNG: Guys, can we focus? I’m telling you, it’s him. I’m sure. When I said it was 011, he had this look of relief on his face. It’s the biggest sign.

009 | MINGYU: You’re saying it’s me just because of my facial expression? Am I supposed to walk around with a poker face? I’m fucking terrified because of this godforsaken game and I’m not allowed to be relieved at the fact that I’m still alive?

012 | SEUNGKWAN, to WONWOO: Wait, Soonyoung isn’t wrong. He’s making sense.

005 | SOONYOUNG: See? 010’s getting too defensive. What was that thing Seungkwan said at the beginning of the game?

012 | SEUNGKWAN, helpfully: ‘If you get too emotional, you automatically lose?’

005 | SOONYOUNG: Yeah, that.

001 | SEUNGCHEOL: Can we just vote Soonyoung? He’s confusing me. Can’t even hear my own thoughts over this kid.

[002 places a calming hand on his arm. SEUNGCHEOL makes an offended face, but doesn’t pull away for some reason.]

002, whispering: Hear him out, at least. We still have time.

009 | MINGYU: Guys, please. You can’t seriously be listening to him.

010 | SEOKMIN: Yeah, this is sort of coming out of left field, Soonyoung. I bet we’re all relieved that we’re still alive, too. Doesn’t mean much when the stakes are this high.

001 | SEUNGCHEOL, quietly: Three minutes. Three more minutes of this nonsense.

005 | SOONYOUNG: You don’t have to believe me, guys. But I trust my instincts!

[Everyone glances at each other anxiously. SEOKMIN gives MINGYU a reassuring pat on the shoulder.]

009 | MINGYU: Wow, it’s really him. Guys, it’s him. There’s no reason for him to target a civilian so strongly.

005 | SOONYOUNG, offended: Me?!

008 | MINGHAO, to JUNHUI: Honestly, I don’t even think it’s either of them. But all of this chatter is making everything so difficult to piece together.

“THE DISCUSSION PERIOD HAS NOW CONCLUDED. PLEASE PLACE YOUR VOTES ON YOUR DEVICES.”

[MINGYU lets out a troubled breath as he picks his phone up again. The tension in the air is so much more real now, fizzling with doubt and anticipation.]

009 | MINGYU: Please, please…

010 | SEOKMIN: Gyu, don’t stress. Breathe.

009 | MINGYU: I can’t. I’m literally terrified out of my fucking mind!

[SOONYOUNG overhears this conversation from his chair. For a split second, he fears that MINGYU might end up like JIHOON. But he cannot let his fear stop him from finding the mafia and getting out of here, so he strengthens his resolve and settles back in his seat.]

003 | JOSHUA: I wonder if you ever get sick of hearing yourself talk.

002 | JEONGHAN: Not when I’m right.

“THE DISCUSSION PERIOD HAS NOW CONCLUDED. PLAYER 003, A MAFIA, HAS BEEN ELIMINATED.”

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Damn, it really was!

[JEONGHAN visibly sinks back into the chair with relief. After all, had he made the wrong call, none of them would be alive right now.]

010 | SEOKMIN, desperately: This means we just need to find one more, right? Then we’re free?

[The others nod in agreement. However, there are only four of them left, and not enough evidence to correctly pick out one as the last mafia. Amidst the discussion, JUNHUI manages to catch JOSHUA’s gaze in silence.]

004 | JUNHUI: It’s not your fault.

003 | JOSHUA: Saying it over and over again doesn’t make it hurt any less.

004 | JUNHUI: Still… you did what you had to do. It’s a rule of nature.

[JOSHUA shrugs, only mere seconds before the laser pierces his skull. He hits the ground with a sickening sound that’s become all too familiar. Not a single person flinches. The remaining players all look at each other solemnly as an eerie feeling settles among the group. One wrong move, and it’s game over for three of them.]

012 | SEUNGKWAN, shaken: So… what do we do now?

004 | JUNHUI: We play.

002 | JEONGHAN: And we try to survive.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Well, it’s all up to you this time, my friend. And I’m hoping either of you two are the doctor, or we have a worse chance than I thought.

[JUNHUI shrugs disinterestedly. SEOKMIN sighs and puts his head in his hands, leaning slightly into JEONGHAN’s side.]

“NIGHT HAS FALLEN. EVERYONE, LOWER YOUR HEADS.”

[SEUNGKWAN says something unintelligible as the lights dim.]

“MAFIA, RAISE YOUR HEAD. ON YOUR DEVICE, SELECT ONE PLAYER YOU WOULD LIKE TO ELIMINATE.”

[The final mafia ponders his options, brows knitted in deep thought. He takes a while to make his selection, but it barely even matters, does it?]

“MAFIA, LOWER YOUR HEADS. DETECTIVE, RAISE YOUR HEAD AND SELECT ONE PLAYER ON YOUR DEVICE WHOSE IDENTITY YOU WOULD LIKE TO REVEAL.”

[The choice is a very unnecessary one. The gears are already in motion. It is far too late, with any amount of information that was not already revealed, to turn them back.]

“DETECTIVE, LOWER YOUR HEAD. DOCTOR, RAISE YOUR HEAD AND SELECT A PLAYER ON YOUR DEVICE YOU WOULD LIKE TO SAVE.”

[A life-altering decision. SEOKMIN trembles in his seat, head bowed and fingers tightly twisted together. Can the doctor correctly single out tonight’s unsuspecting victim?]

“DOCTOR, LOWER YOUR HEAD. MORNING HAS COME. EVERYONE, RAISE YOUR HEADS.”

[Everyone looks up warily. Even JEONGHAN, who had kept an expression of ease throughout the game, wears a frown that barely masks his innate fear.]

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Did we… did we do it?

010 | SEOKMIN: Hyung, who’d you pick?

002 | JEONGHAN: I picked you.

[As he speaks JEONGHAN looks straight at JUNHUI, who slowly shakes his head. The temperature of the room seems to  as everyone comes to the chilling realization.]

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Wait, then –

“THE MAFIA HAS ELIMINATED PLAYER 004.”

[JUNHUI doesn’t react. Neither do the others.]

012 | SEUNGKWAN: God, I knew it wasn’t you. From the start, I knew.

004 | JUNHUI: I don’t blame you. It’s like Minghao said. We were going to lose some game or the other anyways.

002 | JEONGHAN: It didn’t have to be this one…

004 | JUNHUI, smiling wryly: You’re right. But it is.

[JUNHUI gets out of his chair, kneels besides MINGHAO’s body. He brushes the hair away from his cousin’s forehead solemnly. He’s resigned. His eyes are those of someone who has seen unspeakable horrors.]

004 | JUNHUI, to JEONGHAN: You’ll never know.

002 | JEONGHAN, pursing his lips: What does that mean?

[There is no time for an answer. JUNHUI’s expression goes blank in the span of two seconds as the laser shoots through his skull. A clean, quick death, suitable for the merciless nature of these games. But in the wake of JUNHUI’s elimination arises a newer, bigger, question.]

002 | JEONGHAN: Seungkwan.

012 | SEUNGKWAN, frowning: What? It’s not me!

002 | JEONGHAN: Just come clean now, okay?!

[All three of their devices buzz in unison, screens lighting up.]

PLAYER XXX: GAME CLEAR.

PLAYER XXX: GAME OVER.

PLAYER 002: GAME OVER.

[The lights go bright all of a sudden, shining down on the three remaining players. SEOKMIN shifts in his chair uneasily.]

“MAFIA, TEN OF HEARTS. GAME COMPLETED.”

002 | JEONGHAN: Wait, it’s all over? Who–?

[It’s difficult to tell whose knees buckle first — but they both hit the floor at the same time, all bones against solid linoleum ground. The lasers come quickly and suddenly, as they do. The game waits for no one. The sound is awful, and it echoes nauseatingly in the empty bar.]

“PLAYER 010 — GAME CLEAR.”

[The lights are too bright. Too much, too sudden. SEOKMIN lurches forward, stumbling out of his chair and falling to his knees in front of JEONGHAN’s body. His hand is still warm. SEOKMIN allows himself to hope there is still a chance for him to live, but such a thing only leads to heartbreak.]

SEOKMIN: Fuck. We were supposed to get out of here together. You, me, Gyu.

[He’s not sure if he’s lying to himself. From the start, it was clear that such a thing might be impossible. But again, he had let himself hope. It’s a dangerous emotion.]

SEOKMIN: I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Hyung, I…

[SEOKMIN’s tears splatter onto JEONGHAN’s lifeless skin. Near the other, previously locked exit, a light turns on, illuminating a small table near some chairs. SEOKMIN rises reluctantly, making towards it, only stopping to kneel beside MINGYU and press a warm hand to his shockingly cold shoulder. On the little table lies a card, frayed at the edges but still unmistakable. The Ten of Hearts.]

SEOKMIN: Stupid visa. Stupid, stupid game.

[He takes it, regardless. A token of victory, if he can even call it that. What has he won? In the game’s aftermath, SEOKMIN is utterly, completely alone. But he cannot stop here and give up now.]

SEOKMIN: What the hell is even out there? How do I get back?

[SEOKMIN sighs deeply. He must get moving, find other people and maybe some information and resources for the night. He gives one last long look at his friends before turning his head sharply. Tears sting his eyes as he wanders outside. The laser barrier is gone now.]

SEOKMIN: Is this hell?

[Such a question does not stop him. It cannot. SEOKMIN looks over his shoulder one more time, a weakness he won’t ever let go of. His fingers tighten around the card, and he finally steps out into the eerily empty Seoul street.]

FIN.

hello everyone! it's finally come to an end, i hope that wasn't too anticlimactic...?

010 | SEOKMIN, angrily: Are you guys happy now? Why would you think it was a good idea to listen to Soonyoung, when he was throwing out accusations left and right?

009 | MINGYU: Guys, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dragged us here. We should have turned around and left, Seokmin, you were right. I’m so sorry.

010 | SEOKMIN: No, Gyu, it’s not your fault. Please don’t apologize. Please.

[SOONYOUNG himself is shocked into silence. He sits motionlessly, staring at MINGYU. However, he only sees JIHOON in his mind’s eye.]

005 | SOONYOUNG: It can’t be. It had to have been him.

010 | SEOKMIN: Well, you were fucking wrong! 

[A loud bang! interrupts the conversation. SEOKMIN flinches violently at the sound that indicates that his friend is no more. JEONGHAN keeps his eyes screwed shut, tears beginning to gather at his lash line. SOONYOUNG still hasn’t moved an inch.]

010 | SEOKMIN, in tears: I’m going to be so surprised if he’s not the mafia. There’s no way, right? He got Mingyu voted off! A civilian.

008 | MINGHAO: We’ll have time to discuss this later. But it’s something to keep in mind, for sure.

[Everyone is clearly wary of SOONYOUNG. There is only one player who seems utterly confused by this chain of events, but he remains silent for now.]

“NIGHT HAS FALLEN. EVERYONE, LOWER YOUR HEADS.”

002 | JEONGHAN: Maybe this is just a bad dream. Maybe I’ll get chosen, and I’ll get shot by the laser, and I’ll wake up back in my own bed. Everything will be just fine.

004 | JUNHUI: Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen. But I really do wish you were right.

“MAFIA, RAISE YOUR HEADS. ON YOUR DEVICE, SELECT ONE PLAYER YOU WOULD LIKE TO ELIMINATE.”

[Silence. SEOKMIN shudders, murmuring a silent prayer under his breath.]

“MAFIA, LOWER YOUR HEADS. DETECTIVE, RAISE YOUR HEAD AND SELECT ONE PLAYER ON YOUR DEVICE WHOSE IDENTITY YOU WOULD LIKE TO REVEAL.”

[The detective thinks long and hard. After all, a good choice could change the trajectory of the entire game, and a bad one could lead him astray. The detective might be given an additional ability, but he is not more protected than the civilians. At the end of the day, the detective just wants to live.]

“DETECTIVE, LOWER YOUR HEAD. DOCTOR, RAISE YOUR HEAD AND SELECT A PLAYER ON YOUR DEVICE YOU WOULD LIKE TO SAVE.”

[Despite himself, the doctor looks quite troubled. Something is telling him that the same player he chose last round will need his help once more. But the game will not allow it. Resigned, he selects his second choice number and hopes he’s made the right choice.]

“DOCTOR, LOWER YOUR HEAD. MORNING HAS COME. EVERYONE, RAISE YOUR HEADS.”

005 | SOONYOUNG: It’s going to be me. I just know it.

012 | SEUNGKWAN, snarkily: How can it be you? Mafias can’t eliminate each other, remember?

“THE MAFIA HAS ELIMINATED PLAYER 001.”

[Everyone waits with bated breath, for a reaction. SEUNGCHEOL does not show any signs of surprise. He only uncrosses his legs to stretch them out slightly. Only the doctor looks particularly surprised at the result.]

001 | SEUNGCHEOL: Ah, well. I knew this was going to happen. 

008 | MINGHAO: Don’t say that.

001 | SEUNGCHEOL: It’s true. I suppose I’ve played too many games, overstayed my welcome. Pity, though. I was kind of hoping to get that ten-day visa out of this game.

[It is somewhat of a sad sight, to see him so resigned. He is here alone. No companion to brave the borderlands with, no brother by his side. Still, he has not come to the end of his life entirely friendless.]

004 | SEUNGCHEOL, to JUNHUI: Anyways, thanks for saving my ass during that last game. Didn’t think I’d see you again here. But I’m glad you’re alive.

004 | JUNHUI, tearing up: Thank you. I hope you know it took every ounce of strength in my body to hold you up from falling.

[SEUNGCHEOL laughs.]

001 | SEUNGCHEOL: I appreciate it. You too, Xu Minghao. I hope you guys find a way out of here, whatever it is.

[It does not matter that JUNHUI and MINGHAO have seen many, many deaths before now. It is still difficult to witness. They bow their heads as the laser shoots through the ceiling and takes SEUNGCHEOL’s life with it. JUNHUI presses his face into his dear friend’s shoulder, unable to watch the scene that unfolds in front of him.]

“EVERYONE, YOUR THIRTY MINUTE DISCUSSION PERIOD BEGINS NOW.”

008 | MINGHAO: I hate it here. I hate these stupid, heartless games.

005 | SOONYOUNG: Me, too.

002 | JEONGHAN: How could you say such a thing immediately after targeting an innocent man and having him killed?

005 | SOONYOUNG, on the verge of tears: I didn’t mean to! I really, really thought it was him!

010 | SEOKMIN: Clearly, your hunch wasn’t enough proof!

006 | WONWOO: Guys, please. Let’s not yell.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: So, who are we voting for? Soonyoung?

005 | SOONYOUNG: Guys, it’s really not me! Trust me!

[Everyone stares at each other carefully. There are only two players who seem sure of themselves.]

008 | MINGHAO: First, can we go around saying our roles, just to be sure everyone is what they say they are?

012 | SEUNGKWAN: And what are you?

008 | MINGHAO: I’m a civilian.

004 | JUNHUI: Me, too.

003: Okay, I’m just going to say this now, then. I’m the doctor.

002 | JEONGHAN: Wait, what? I’m the doctor.

011 | VERNON: You’re lying, aren’t you? Joshua’s the doctor, I trust him.

006 | WONWOO: I’m confused.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: And do we still not know who the detective is?

010 | SEOKMIN: Dude, why would the detective reveal himself? 003’s life is already at stake after whatever he just said.

002 | JEONGHAN: No, Seokmin, it’s not. Because I’m the doctor, and he isn’t. He’s clearly lying. Just look at him!

003 | JOSHUA, incredulous. Are you crazy? I am the doctor! I even chose to save you in the first round!

004 | JUNHUI: Guys, let’s just be clear about this. Please. 

003 | JOSHUA: I’m trying, but this crazy guy is claiming to be the doctor instead of me! What am I supposed to even do?

002 | JEONGHAN: Oh, wait. Sorry, guys. I’m actually the pharmacist. I got the roles mixed up.

[Everybody stops and stares at him in complete silence. When they speak again, all hell breaks loose.]

004 | JUNHUI: Are you actually crazy?

012 | SEUNGKWAN: What the hell does that mean? Pharmacist?

006 | WONWOO: Such a role doesn’t even exist in this game, or the rules would have said it. He’s obviously lying.

002 | JEONGHAN: No, it’s real. I swear!

012 | SEUNGKWAN: So who are we supposed to vote for now? This lunatic, or Soonyoung?

008 | MINGHAO: Well, Soonyoung is also a lunatic.

005 | SOONYOUNG, in desperation: I swear it’s not me, guys. I swear!

008 | MINGHAO: See? Lunatic.

004 | JUNHUI: For me, I think I’m suspicious of Soonyoung, and then players 002 and 006.

[The final addition is an unexpected statement. JUNHUI turns heads with his sentence.]

006 | WONWOO: Huh?

008 | MINGHAO, intrigued: Wait, why 006?

004 | JUNHUI: I don’t know, I just have a feeling. You don’t have to take everything I say for granted, you know.

008 | MINGHAO, gently: No, it’s not like that. I just asked because there’s a clear reason why the other two are suspicious, but not him.

004 | JUNHUI: Again, just a feeling.

[MINGHAO ponders this for a while, and then turns to everyone else. He observes the room with his shrewd eyes, darting from player to player, until something dawns on him suddenly.]

008 | MINGHAO, with newly equipped information: Ah, okay. I’ve made my choice now.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Well, it can’t be Wonwoo hyung. I’m betting on either of these two.

002 | JEONGHAN: I’m really a pharmacist! I already told you!

003 | JOSHUA: I’m so confused, I don’t even know who I’m supposed to believe right now.

004 | JUNHUI: I’m just saying 006 as a suggestion. Like I said, none of you have to believe me. I’m not asking you to.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Okay, we get it! It’s just a feeling! You already said this so many times, stop repeating what we already know!

[SEOKMIN has clearly had enough of the confusion. He stands up, taking hold of JEONGHAN’s wrist and pulling him to the side, where they can speak freely between them.]

010 | SEOKMIN: Hyung, what are you doing? You told me you were a civilian!

002 | JEONGHAN: I am!

010 | SEOKMIN: But you said you’re the doctor, and now you’re on about some made-up role nobody knows of. Why are you lying?

[JEONGHAN raises an eyebrow.]

002 | JEONGHAN: Lying? Who said I’m lying?

APPROXIMATELY ONE AND A HALF HOUR AGO:

[JEONGHAN sits patiently beside SEOKMIN, waiting for the roles to be assigned. This will be fun, he thinks. He likes games. His screen suddenly flashes with words, capturing his attention, and he reads them carefully.]

SECRET ROLE: PHARMACIST

FACTION: UNCLEAR

ABILITY: AS THE TOWN’S PHARMACIST, YOU HAVE A STORE OF PRESCRIPTION DRUGS AT YOUR DISPOSAL. EACH NIGHT, YOU MAY CHOOSE TO USE A PILL ON A PLAYER OF YOUR CHOICE. THIS WILL RESULT IN THE PLAYER’S ABILITY BEING BLOCKED, IF ANY. YOU MUST MAKE YOUR CHOICE BETWEEN THE END OF THE VOTING PERIOD AND NIGHTFALL. YOU MAY ALSO CHOOSE TO REFRAIN FROM USING THE PILL IF YOU WISH TO DO SO.

PROHIBITED ACTIONS: YOU MAY ONLY USE THE PILL ON EACH PLAYER ONCE.

[An interesting turn of events. JEONGHAN wonders if anyone else might be aware that this role exists. He wants nothing more than to tell SEOKMIN and MINGYU, but he knows he cannot.]

002 | JEONGHAN, to himself: ‘Remember, things may not always be as they seem.’ How interesting.

PRESENT TIME:

010 | SEOKMIN: Okay. Okay, I got it. But unless you reveal this to everyone, they’re going to try and vote you off. They’re already kind of suspicious of you.

002 | JEONGHAN: Hey, it’s alright. It’ll be fine.

010 | SEOKMIN: It’s not fine! Hyung, I… can’t. I can’t lose you too. 

002 | JEONGHAN: You won’t, Seokmin. 

010 | SEOKMIN: I can’t do this alone. I can’t keep playing these games alone. I’m not strong enough on my own.

002 | JEONGHAN: You know, Seokmin, I’ve always thought this. You’re a lot stronger than you let yourself believe.

[The clock has only got ten minutes left to it. The others are still deliberating on who needs to get voted off.]

012 | SEUNGKWAN: I’m sorry, I still can’t ignore the fact that Soonyoung had an innocent man voted off purely based on a hunch.

005 | SOONYOUNG: I don’t know how many more times I need to say it’s not me! I’m just a civilian!

011 | VERNON: Why are you so sure it’s Soonyoung? I get why you might suspect him, but we also have two other mafias to think about it. There’s no concrete evidence pointing to him.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Mingyu dying wasn’t concrete evidence to you?

004 | JUNHUI, quietly: Does nobody else seriously think 006 is even a little off?

003 | JOSHUA: He could be. He hasn’t spoken much this entire time.

011 | VERNON: Well, isn’t that why 007 got voted off? And he was innocent, wasn’t he?

[JUNHUI throws VERNON a vexed glance that only MINGHAO seems to understand.]

012 | SEUNGKWAN, to JUNHUI: Why are you so keen on Wonwoo hyung, anyways? Isn’t Soonyoung the obvious answer?

004 | JUNHUI, irritated: I already said I’m not asking you to agree with me! That’s just what I think! Am I not allowed to have an opinion?

008 | MINGHAO, quietly: Jun, calm down. I trust you. But even if you think you’re right, you can’t afford to start an argument now. Or you’ll be the one who gets voted off.

[JUNHUI huffs in frustration, but he knows MINGHAO is right. Slowly, JEONGHAN and SEOKMIN return to the center table. The clock shows only a few minutes left.]

012 | SEUNGKWAN: You’re all messing with my head. I don’t know who to vote for.

005 | SOONYOUNG: I’m really not it, guys. Seriously.

011 | VERNON: Weirdly, the more he talks, the less I think it’s him.

003 | JOSHUA: Are we sure that’s not just a tactic?

008 | MINGHAO: He seems like too much of a lunatic to care about tactics, don’t you think?

[The buzzer sounds like a death bell when the clock is finally up. JUNHUI sighs heavily, leaning into MINGHAO for support. His eyes are zeroed in on one player with a firm conviction. Meanwhile, SOONYOUNG can only pray that he lives to see the next round, and JEONGHAN hopes that his harmless lie has not cost him his life.]

— yn

second year forensics student, joined the symphony orchestra on a complete whim but is really good at it. met lee sena in a shared elective class freshman year, and they've been close friends ever since. enjoys terrorizing mingyu as a form of self care and amusement.

— kim mingyu

second year microbiology student. he's been playing the violin since fifth grade but only started enjoying it during college as a stress relieving habit. best friends & roommates with wonwoo. enjoys photography in his free time. is tall and clumsy, and as a result gets clowned on by everyone he knows. (it's all love, promise.)

— lee sena

second year biochemistry major and nothing short of a violin prodigy. she has known mingyu since late high school, as they've met at some performances and competitions before. concertmaster of the symphony orchestra and best friends with yn. quiet until she needs to yell at someone for doing something stupid.

— jeon wonwoo

third year computer science student. bag of luck. no one really knows how he gets things done, he just does. has a super cute cat named byeol and will show her off at absolutely any chance given. somewhat cryptic. avid user of dry humor. some days he wonders what kind of glitch in the universe led him to mingyu, but he loves him anyway.

— cha eunwoo

second year english literature student and principal second violinist. has a sassy streak and often gets into arguments with principal violist jihyo over dumb things like bowings. is good friends with mingyu and often gets caught up in his shenanigans.

— choi yeonjun

first year, undecided in the school of performing arts. sits in the back of the second violin section and is very happy with that. only in the symphony orchestra because one of his profs insisted he gets a feel for it so he can figure out what he wants to do. has a raging crush on sena.

— park jihyo

third year journalism student who plays viola for fun, mostly. will not back down from an argument and often ends up in them because of something stupid eunwoo's said or done. she is family friends with mingyu (unfortunately, she says.)

— oh haewon

first year chemistry student. jihyo's stand partner. talented, but often doesn't like spending long hours in the practice rooms and then gets scolded by dr. park. very sweet and kind until you really begin to piss her off. to date, only yeonjun has managed to pull this off.

series m.list | next (PROFILES part II)

001 | SEUNGCHEOL - civilian 002 | JEONGHAN - civilian 003 | JOSHUA - mafia 004 | JUNHUI - detective 005 | SOONYOUNG - civilian 006 | WONWOO - mafia 007 | JIHOON - civilian 008 | MINGHAO - civilian 009 | MINGYU - civilian 010 | SEOKMIN - mafia 011 | VERNON - doctor 012 | SEUNGKWAN - civilian

now that that's clear, let's start from the top!

ROUND 1:

012 | SEUNGKWAN, with much excitement: Oh, Mafia! If you get too emotional, you automatically lose!

just a little tidbit from the actual don't lie series! love how this has become sort of a catchphrase for him haha.

008, softly: Hmm. A Hearts game.

somewhat of an indicator that he's not new to this! only someone who's played before would know what the symbols stand for.

for those of you who haven't watched alice in borderland (which this series is based on), the symbols are as follows: spades indicate games where you need to rely on physical strength and/or endurance. clubs indicate team games that require cooperation. diamonds indicate games of intellect, where you might need problem solving skills to solve a puzzle or a code. finally, hearts indicates games that revolve around trust and psychological challenges that test the players' bonds with each other.

[There is a loud rustling from one corner of the room, and muffled laughter.]

the muffled laughter from the mafia indicates they're still not aware that this isn't a regular game. sorry lol it wasn't like very noticeable in the grand scheme of things.

but ! immediately, this eliminates seungcheol, junhui, and minghao. they wouldn't laugh - they know it's a game to the death.

the reason i wrote this line is because in this scenario, it was wonwoo that picked chan, not knowing this would lead to his death. jay very correctly identified this as the reason later on! (which was so crazy by the way how did you even remember that LMAO?)

[The detective selects player 001, and seems quite surprised at the result.]

our detective junnie chose seungcheol! it's the first round, and there's no real reason to suspect anyone yet. but as you find out in the later rounds, junhui & minghao have played a game with seungcheol before, so he knows him and wanted to check his identity first.

calli clocked this very correctly, multiple times!

this isn't really relevant, but in round 1, vernon chose to save jeonghan.

when soonyoung starts crashing out after chan dies, it's junhui and minghao who get him to stay and not leave, and promptly die. wonwoo figures this out soon after, but this is another clue that this isn't their first rodeo.

006 | WONWOO: Eliminated. That’s what that means. If you lose, you die.

wonwoo slowly realizing what he's done... my heart writing this -> broken.

after the discussion period starts, you'll notice joshua is the first to throw blame onto someone (seungcheol). it goes under the radar, but this can be a way for the mafia to move attention away from themselves.

VOTING: jihoon ended up getting voted off this round, which was personally surprising to me, but again - it's round 1, nobody really knows anything just yet. onto the next!

ROUND 2:

okay, starting off quite strong with the elimination of jihoon! jay i am so sorry. he was innocent. i owe you big time.

here you can see soonyoung grieving the sudden loss of his friend, to the point where he doesn't comply with the game rules until jeonghan and joshua coax him into doing so. :(

i chose to write joshua into the scene as he helps soonyoung calm down to divert some attention from him! calli was right i wear the unreliable narrator tag with pride.

[The detective is meticulous with his decision, as he always is. He presses a number confidently, and a green circle appears on the screen, indicating a civilian. He sighs, either in relief or distress. It was not the piece of information he had been hoping for.]. . . [The doctor raises his head calmly, entirely unaware that his identity was just checked. Unlike the last round, he has a player in mind this time.]

this sequence...! in round 2, the civilian junhui checked was vernon. but junhui doesn't get to know what his role is, he only gets the green light and that's it.

as for the player vernon had in mind, it was soonyoung. he's creating a lot of chaos and overall is kind of volatile now, so he makes an easy target for the mafia.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Am I dead yet? 006 | WONWOO: Oh, come on. Please don’t joke about these things.

wonwoo living with the guilt!! he caused the loss of one friend, he doesn't want to lose the other one too. but what can he do?

“NO PLAYER HAS BEEN ELIMINATED. EVERYONE, YOUR THIRTY MINUTE DISCUSSION PERIOD BEGINS NOW.”

and vernon was RIGHT !!!! remember: seokmin, wonwoo, joshua. it's easiest for them to take out the person that no longer has someone by his side, as terrible as it sounds.

004 | JUNHUI: If there’s one thing I’ve learned from these games, it’s that you always have to pay attention to the rules. I thought you of all people would know that already, Seungcheol.

some background! here is where you know they 100% know each other from before.

when it's minghao's turn to speak, he stands up for soonyoung and wonwoo off of a hunch, but also junhui. if there's one thing i've noticed, it's that these two always always stand by each other. y'all have no idea how bad i was tempted to make one of them the mafia and one of them not... i just couldn't do it.

one time calli mentioned that she thought i might have made junhui the mafia because of psycho and you know what? i was so tempted bro. you were so damn close calli. however i did not :(

004 | JUNHUI: Hold on, I don’t think it’s him.

junhui says this to defend vernon after soonyoung does his insane don't lie thing and accuses him out of the blue. 'i don't think it's him' girl you KNOW it's not him you just checked him!! you're the detective! but obviously he can't expose himself or he'll get killed the next round.

[Suddenly, SOONYOUNG whirls around almost 360 degrees, his index finger quickly switching targets to player 009.] 005 | SOONYOUNG, loudly: It’s him!

oh, soonyoung. in jay's words: what a guy. even funnier that both these guesses (vernon and mingyu) were incorrect.

i wrote this scene because i wanted to incorporate his personality in actual don't lie!

right after this, jeonghan comes to mingyu's defense. they're friends, along with seokmin!

hmm there aren't really many other hints, per se, in the rest of this round. it's mostly just them juking it out over who's the mafia, and soonyoung sort of second guessing his strategy right before the polls.

VOTING: not a single person voted for any of the mafia this round LOL. however mingyu DID get voted off, and i was kind of surprised because i didn't think it would work! i thought soonyoung would be the one to get voted off (it was just a matter of time i guess)

ROUND 3:

right off the bat, seokmin gets angry about mingyu being voted off. this is largely due to the fact that, well, he's the mafia! he knew for sure it wasn't mingyu, and he still couldn't save his friend. it's the guilt that sits with him.

the way he reacted, i think, factors into why he didn't really get suspected this round.

[Everyone is clearly wary of SOONYOUNG. There is only one player who seems utterly confused by this chain of events, but he remains silent for now.]

and this player is... vernon! everyone else is suspecting soonyoung, but vernon knows it can't be him. because he saved him last round, and it worked! by this logic, soonyoung can't be a mafia. but nobody else knows this. he hasn't told anyone his role yet.

[Silence. SEOKMIN shudders, murmuring a silent prayer under his breath.]

seokmin mafia !!! he's so scared he's currently wishing he was a civilian so badly.

in this round, junhui checks wonwoo, though it's not explicitly stated yet. you'll see why.

[Despite himself, the doctor looks quite troubled. Something is telling him that the same player he chose last round will need his help once more. But the game will not allow it. Resigned, he selects his second choice number and hopes he’s made the right choice.]

vernon's gut feeling is that soonyoung is going to get offed. but he can't save him twice, so he settles for seungkwan.

when it's revealed that seungcheol is the one that got eliminated, i wrote that the doctor is surprised. he is !! because he's confused, he really expected soonyoung to die.

a touching scene follows this. it's revealed that junhaocheol played a game together before, where junhui saved seungcheol's life. it's not relevant, but here you can probably infer it was a clubs game that required teamwork.

[Everyone stares at each other carefully. There are only two players who seem sure of themselves.]

these two players are junhui and jeonghan. junhui, because he's the detective and currently holds a very crucial piece of information. jeonghan, because he's yoon jeonghan and no matter what he's feeling, he never lets it show on his face. not in a game where the stakes are this high.

003: Okay, I’m just going to say this now, then. I’m the doctor.

yes, you read that right. now, you might ask - but hershey, i thought vernon's the doctor?

he is. but joshua and vernon are close friends, and have been for a while. in a hearts game where it's hard to trust anyone, you naturally turn to the ones close to you. vernon confided in joshua about his role, and asked him to pretend to be the doctor so he himself doesn't get offed due to his ability.

honestly, i managed to trick a lot of people with this one! the only indicator was that these two are close friends, though, so i kind of feel bad lolll

i think jay got the closest - they mentioned that joshua and vernon must have told each other their roles. however they thought vernon was the detective! super close though!

002 | JEONGHAN: Wait, what? I’m the doctor.

he's just insane. he's also yoon jeonghan.

after being confronted further, jeonghan tells everyone he's the pharmacist. and everyone laughs, of course. cause what the hell is that? and you might ask, hershey, is that a real role? was he lying?

yes. yes it is. yoon jeonghan was telling nothing but the truth. the flashback scene that comes during seokmin & jeonghan's conversation was very real!! i got inspired to create this role after watching that one don't lie ep where he created the pharmacist role for himself LMAO

he just likes to lie y'all

011 | VERNON: You’re lying, aren’t you? Joshua’s the doctor, I trust him.

vernon backing up the person he chose to trust! he doesn't know why the hell jeonghan's lying through his teeth.

008 | MINGHAO: Well, Soonyoung is also a lunatic. 005 | SOONYOUNG, in desperation: I swear it’s not me, guys. I swear! 008 | MINGHAO: See? Lunatic.

guys i HAD to put in some soonhao banter... you can't tell me those two combined aren't pure comedic gold.

rae (?) mentioned this might be a distancing tactic by minghao. sorry guys, he's innocent!

004 | JUNHUI: For me, I think I’m suspicious of Soonyoung, and then players 002 and 006.

and... bam. detective makes his statement. but junhui's smart, so he doesn't say it outright. he starts with the most obvious choice - the guy who got someone killed, the guy who lied about his role, and then the guy who, to everyone else's knowledge, has done nothing but sit there from the start of the game.

i think it was jay who said this, but there was a theory that junhui was a mafia and he was outing wonwoo to solidify his own innocence. that would be so crazy and actually while everyone else was theorizing i was like damn some of these would make such good plotlines LOL

after this, minghao's shown to be asking for some more clarity, while junhui just brushes this off as a hunch.

[MINGHAO ponders this for a while, and then turns to everyone else. He observes the room with his shrewd eyes, darting from player to player, until something dawns on him suddenly.] 008 | MINGHAO, with newly equipped information: Ah, okay. I’ve made my choice now.

minghao's smart, too - and he's known junhui his whole life. this is when minghao figures out that junhui must be the detective. he's going to go along with whatever he says.

throughout the rest of the round, you can see that junhui consistently labels wonwoo as his suspected individual, but he's careful not to make his point very boldly like soonyoung. he makes his statement, then brushes it off as a hunch - even though it does end up getting on seungkwan's nerves a bit.

[JUNHUI throws VERNON a vexed glance that only MINGHAO seems to understand.]

this line comes right after vernon wonders if junhui suspects wonwoo because he's not talking much, and says that jihoon got voted off for the same reason despite being innocent.

junhui is annoyed because he knows vernon is a civilian - they're on the same side!

minghao knows what's going on because he's aware of junhui's role now.

011 | VERNON: Weirdly, the more he talks, the less I think it’s him.

this was vernon's way of defending soonyoung, and it 100% worked.

VOTING: once again i really did think it was going to be soonyoung, but it was wonwoo! first mafia down. again, i didn't expect it to go that way, but this certainly helped the story progress. i can't remember who it was (calli? yuki?) but there was at least one person who really did not think it was wonwoo - i'm so sorry, he was mafia lol.

ROUND 4:

008 | MINGHAO, under his breath: You seem to have a lot of faith in all the wrong people.

once again, minghao with his wise remarks. this is some foreshadowing for what seungkwan is about to realize.

006 | WONWOO: I didn’t know! I didn’t know, okay? The sign said it was a game! How was I supposed to know we were all going to drop dead one by one? [Something clicks. SEUNGKWAN loosens his grip slowly.] 012 | SEUNGKWAN: You chose Chan, didn’t you?

this one was heartwrenching. here seungkwan realizes it was wonwoo who chose chan the very first round. he wants to be angry, but how can he? wonwoo didn't know any better, as junhui points out afterwards. he couldn't have stopped it.

003 | JOSHUA: But that’s the worst part, isn’t it?

joshua defending his fellow mafia... he's right, too. it's not his fault, really. the roles were assigned randomly. all he can do is play the game.

this scene is followed by the others questioning junhui's hunch, and some jihan banter. honestly, i'm surprised that people didn't assume junhui was the detective after this - i was actually kind of worried i made it too obvious too soon! however i promptly stopped worrying after jay and calli started suspecting him even more LMAO

011 | VERNON, to JOSHUA: I think I’m developing a headache. 003 | JOSHUA: You think we can find aspirin here, wherever here is? 011 | VERNON, with a tiny smile: Let’s survive this sick game and then we can find out.

i can't remember what exactly it was but calli read this and told me it was really cool that i made the doctor crack an aspirin joke... sorry calli, fake doctor was handling the medication in this dialogue.

[SEUNGKWAN has not said a word this whole time. In fact, he has not moved an inch. But he has been observing one player in particular as everyone talks.]

see, seungkwan is a lot smarter than people give him credit for. even in the don't lie eps, he always seems to have the sharpest instincts and figures things out quickly when he doesn't have a role, and when he does, he seems to know just what to do. so of course, he takes note of junhui's 'hunch' becoming true.

[The two remaining mafia lift their heads and lock eyes with each other. They nod, apparently in agreement, but they end up selecting different players to eliminate.]

this stirred up a LOT of discourse! due to this, instead of the same player being selected, it would be a random choice between the two. (i'll elaborate on this later)

of course, what should happen here is that seokmin and joshua both realize they need to get rid of junhui before he checks one of them and finds out their role.

however, seokmin ends up choosing minghao and joshua chooses junhui, so this plan fails.

something important to consider: when morning comes again, it's revealed that no civilian died. the answer to this is simple: vernon picked junhui to save that night, the most obvious choice.

this isn't relevant information, but in this round junhui checks jeonghan, and finds out he's a civilian.

however, there's more going on here. we'll get into it in just a moment.

[The players look a little relieved. However, the mafia shoot each other confused looks, wondering where they possibly could have gone wrong.]

they're like man what the hell??

after this, joshua ends up lying that he saved himself. he has to - nobody but vernon knows he's not actually the doctor, and he won't willingly expose his lifelong friend. and by now, it must be clear to seokmin that he's lying for a reason. it's only a matter of time until he figures out who the lie is for.

an important line: jeonghan asks seokmin afterwards if he really isn’t the mafia, just to make sure. of course, seokmin says no. but why did he need to ask in the first place?

jeonghan used his ability on seokmin, for shits and giggles basically. it didn’t really do anything, because junhui got randomly selected instead of minghao (who seokmin selected). however, jeonghan doesn’t know that vernon saved junhui, or that seokmin didn't even pick junhui at all — all he knows is he blocked seokmin’s ability, and nobody died.

but he knows the doctor is still alive, since he thinks it’s joshua, so there could be a chance. he can’t say for sure that seokmin is the mafia, so he asks first, and believes him.

004 | JUNHUI: We really need to get this one right this time. It’s already the fourth round.

OKAY! this one was a hit with a lot of people, mostly because of how cryptic it reads. at this point jay was convinced that junhao were the mafia together, especially after the line where the mafias shoot each other confused looks.

what jun actually means here is that they need to vote correctly before the game ends, because it's not looking too good for them right now.

004 | JUNHUI: Thanks for encouraging me to speak up. About Wonwoo, I mean. I didn’t want to. I was worried I’d get targeted, like Soonyoung. 008 | MINGHAO: That’s all right. That’s what I’m here for. And for what it’s worth, your instincts have always been good.

another suspicious line!! i think it's important to note that junhui hasn't actually vocalized his role to minghao yet. he just knows. junhui did tell him, though, that he suspects wonwoo. minghao must have encouraged him to voice the thought because he knows jun's right. and getting targeted the way soonyoung was is a valid concern, because junhui can't outright say he's the detective without fear of getting killed next round. plus, there's no guarantee he's got soonyoung's weird luck either. junhao are primarily concerned with getting out alive and finding a way out of the borderlands.

at the very end, it's shown that seungkwan has made up his mind entirely before voting. here, he votes for minghao.

VOTING: this one had to be the most shocking of all, with soonyoung receiving 40.9% of the votes and second majority going to vernon LOL. however, soonyoung dying here provides a very important detail in the next round.

ROUND 5:

the round opens with jeonghan and seokmin together. it's evident here, and jay also mentioned this, that seokmin trusts and relies on jeonghan a lot. this is why his inner dialogue is consistently torn, because in reality there isn't a way for both of them to escape together and he feels guilty for it.

005 | SOONYOUNG: Whatever. It was just a matter of time, anyway. You’re all crazy and wanted to get me out of the game since the beginning. 011 | VERNON : Soonyoung, that’s not true.

if anyone should say this, it's vernon. he's a big reason soonyoung's still alive!

003 | JOSHUA: Well. That just happened. 010 | SEOKMIN, still stunned: He wasn’t the mafia? It’s not Soonyoung?

both of them acting surprised so they don't get suspected first... oh, seoksoo.

004 | JUNHUI, mumbling: Hold on. Someone’s– 012 | SEUNGKWAN, from beside him: Lying.

this is super important! remember, junhui's the detective, so he's keeping tabs on whose identities he knows. so far, this is the information he has: he knows that seungcheol, vernon, and jeonghan are civilians. he checked wonwoo, and correctly got him voted off. joshua said he's the doctor and nobody spoke out otherwise so junhui believes him. seungkwan's reaction to wonwoo's elimination solidifies his civilian status. and finally, junhui trusts minghao with his life. this info, combined with setting aside the players that have already died, leaves only two: soonyoung and seokmin. logically, it's only these two that can be the remaining mafia if the rest are civilians and wonwoo's already dead.

however, this line of reasoning is dismantled with soonyoung's death because it leaves only seokmin left, and junhui realizes that someone must be lying. he's not the only one who understands this - seungkwan comes to a similar conclusion, hence him finishing the sentence. of course, seungkwan doesn't have the specific information junhui does, but he's good at reading people, and has his own hunches.

this serves as a subtle indicator that joshua isn't who he's saying he is! nobody else has really lied, but he's the only one that outright declared his role to everyone.

[The two stare at each other, evidently at odds. Neither says a word more. However, one is confused, and one grows more certain by the second.]

this is the following line - junhui is confused, wondering who's lying, and seungkwan only grows more certain that junhui has to be the detective.

004 | JUNHUI: Maybe that’s not what I was going to say. And what if it’s you? 012 | SEUNGKWAN, serenely: Well, you might never know.

oops i'm annotating this entire sequence HAHA... but this line from seungkwan makes junhui begin to second guess himself and suspect him a little bit. maybe he was wrong? maybe his original deduction was somewhat correct and the mafia are seokmin and seungkwan?

in the following night sequence, i wrote that there's a right and a wrong choice for the mafia. i actually didn't really mean for it to signify anything, it was just a way for me to write the action vaguely - but if you really think about it, there are some choices that are better than others. for example, it makes more sense for the mafia to eliminate junhui and seungkwan instead of jeonghan.

[The detective is sure he knows the identity of the number he clicks. But the color of the resulting light tells him differently. Now, he is just confused.]

junhui did indeed get swayed by seungkwan's cryptic words and ended up checking his identity. he was expecting a red light, but received green instead. now he really is confused. if soonyoung and seungkwan are innocent, then that just leaves seokmin, though even that could be a misleading idea if multiple players are lying. junhui's pondering one question, and one question only: who are the other two mafia?

011 | VERNON: Ah, seriously? Man, I should have…

this is vernon's dialogue right after he gets eliminated. the second sentence alludes to his hindsight, that he should have... saved himself. instead, he chose to save joshua, thinking that the mafia might target him because of his declaration of the doctor role.

obviously, vernon has no idea that joshua is the mafia, and therefore doesn't need protection. it was seokmin who chose to eliminate him, having finally realized that the only person joshua could be protecting was his close friend.

afterwards, vernon tells joshua to play and win, for him. the others still aren't aware that joshua isn't the doctor, so he can use this cover to his advantage.

010 | SEOKMIN, raising his hand: I’ll say this– it’s not Jeonghan hyung. 003 | JOSHUA: How do you know that? He lied, blatantly, about his role. I’m still not sure exactly what he is.

instead of agreeing with seokmin here, joshua chooses to argue. it's easy to do this, because to everyone else's knowledge jeonghan pretended to have his role. it also helps that they aren't agreeing - everyone's aware there's only two mafia left and they can't get caught being on the same side now.

after this, seokmin's about to tell everyone jeonghan's role to clear him of doubt. but jeonghan stops him. this is a smart move - jeonghan's well aware that his ability can be costly to the mafia, and he doesn't want to be exposed just yet.

then they decide to go around and say who they're most suspicious of, in true don't lie fashion. jeonghan says junhui. joshua says jeonghan - the latter looks surprised, but it's pretty consistent with what joshua's stance has been.

004 | JUNHUI: Seokmin. 002 | JEONGHAN: Huh?

jeonghan's surprised. junhui's not. this isn't a definitive vote, and he isn't sure of anything anymore after the previous situation, but he's going with the only other person he was able to narrow it down to other than soonyoung, who's already dead. but he can't tell everyone to vote for seokmin with confidence, because he didn't check him.

note: minghao seems taken aback when seokmin says he's suspecting junhui, because this makes two votes for him, and minghao is worried that they'll end up eliminating their detective.

seungkwan, though with a similar thought process to junhui, doesn't have the same trust in minghao that he has, which is why he chooses him.

012 | SEUNGKWAN, to himself: No way… Can it be?

this is the final line of round 5. what seungkwan realizes here, albeit incorrectly, is that minghao might be the mafia. he doesn't say it out loud as he's not sure, but the way minghao speaks becomes suspicious to him after he's voiced his opinion aloud.

VOTING: minghao received the majority of the votes here, with junhui in second. this is the vote that pushed the game closer to a mafia win! they don't have a doctor anymore, so unless jeonghan locks in and chooses joshua with luck on his side, the only thing left to see is whether both mafia will make it out alive or just one will walk away with the ten-day visa.

ROUND 6:

aaaand minghao's eliminated.

004 | JUNHUI: I really thought… I thought we could… 008 | MINGHAO: We can’t. But you have to. 004 | JUNHUI, truthfully: I can’t do this without you.

oh, junhao...

this might sound like a cryptic piece of dialogue, but this is just because minghao knows jun is the detective, and this is him telling him to stay on top of things even on his own.

008 | MINGHAO: You don’t have a choice, Jun. You’ve still got a job to do.

yup!!!

004 | JUNHUI: And if I fail? 008 | MINGHAO: Then you’ll find me again, I suppose.

this just means that if junhui cannot be on the winning side of the game, then they will be reunited again in death. it's just the way of life.

003 | JOSHUA: Jun, it’ll be okay. We’ll get out of this game soon. 004 | JUNHUI: Don’t call me that.

only minghao ever calls him by his shortened name in this story!

this is another way that joshua tries assimilating himself with the civilians, trying not to stand out in any way.

[The mafia don’t deliberate too long – after all, there is not much to think about. However, they once again fail to coordinate their choices, and end up selecting different numbers.]

oops! here, seokmin chooses jeonghan, and joshua chooses junhui, having realized he needs to go. this becomes very important in the following events!!!

[The options are limited, and there can’t be any repeats as per the game. The soft glow of the red light is neither unexpected nor unwelcome.]

out of the remaining players, the only ones junhui hasn't checked are joshua and seokmin. of course, we know that these two by process of elimination have to be the mafia, but junhui doesn't know that because everyone thinks joshua's the doctor. this causes him some confusion - how can there be two mafia left and only one candidate?

however, his hunch propels him to check joshua - and the red light reveals to him that joshua was actually lying.

i wrote the following doctor part vaguely on purpose. vernon's been eliminated, but you the audience don't know that. it's the element of mystery that makes the game that much more thrilling.

[JOSHUA gives a half-hearted smile as everyone awes at his intuition. However, JEONGHAN suddenly frowns.] 002 | JEONGHAN, putting his hand in the air: Wait! 010 | SEOKMIN: What, what? 002 | JEONGHAN: He’s lying.

jeonghan's realized something. more on this very very soon.

[Everyone looks at JOSHUA in shock. JUNHUI leans back in his chair, looking somewhat relaxed.]

why is junhui so relaxed, you might ask?

well, he knows joshua's the mafia. however, jeonghan jumping in to accuse joshua before he can is good for him. he can let it happen, sit back, and not have to expose himself prematurely.

002 | JEONGHAN, to JOSHUA: I blocked you. I blocked your ability, and somehow nobody died. If you’re the doctor, someone should have been eliminated, right? Or someone else must have been the doctor, but nobody’s said anything.

okay! so

according to jeonghan's secret role, he can block any player's ability and that player won't be able to execute their action.

during this night, joshua has picked junhui and seokmin has picked jeonghan. when this happens, as stated in the rules, it's a random selection of which player gets eliminated. luck happened to be on the civilian's side, as the player selected randomly was, in fact, junhui.

however, jeonghan decided to block joshua. he does this off of a weird hunch: jeonghan is kind of insane (affectionate) - however, this ends up revealing critical information for him and the rest of the civilians. by blocking joshua's ability, the civilian joshua chose, junhui, does not get eliminated. this results in no civilian deaths, and allows them to continue the game. remember, at this point losing one more civilian means the game is over.

but joshua said he's the doctor. jeonghan quickly realizes this must be a lie: if joshua is the doctor and saved correctly, then jeonghan blocking him should have resulted in a death. if joshua is the doctor and saved incorrectly, then jeonghan blocking him should still have resulted in a death, as it wouldn't have affected anything. the same would have happened if joshua was just a regular civilian. through this line of reasoning, jeonghan is certain joshua's a mafia.

the only thing that's still up for discussion, as you see later in the round, is whether or not the other (minus seokmin, who already knows) are willing to believe that jeonghan's role was real.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Wait, so… he’s not the doctor? Then who is? How come nobody said anything?! 002 | JEONGHAN: Maybe it was someone who got eliminated in the earlier rounds… Jihoon? Seungcheol?

nobody, except for joshua, knows that vernon was the doctor. and he's not going to tell them, either - he's not going to tell on himself just yet. as you can see, he fights to stay in the game until the very end of the round. this has everyone else theorizing: is the doctor still alive? are they concealing themselves?

010 | SEOKMIN: Or the doctor might still be here, and Joshua was a convenient coverup. It’s nearly a death sentence, you know, exposing yourself.

immediately after the previous dialogues - smartly, seokmin distances himself from joshua so that he doesn't get caught in the crossfire.

afterwards, there is discourse: who to believe, joshua or jeonghan? it all comes down to the evil twins in the end. you also see a tense exchange between joshua and junhui, the mafia and the detective who knows his identity.

you also see seokmin ask junhui what he's thinking. he's deep in thought, trying to figure out if there's any possible way that they can still win and leave the game.

joshua also tries to get jeonghan eliminated as a last effort, trying to get him to prove his innocence by showing the screen of his device which shows his role. however, this is explicitly against the rules, and breaking the rules results in consequences (death). jeonghan doesn't fall for it, though, and this only cements joshua's identity in his mind.

[Ten minutes on the clock. Most of the minds are set, but some are still on the fence. JUNHUI has come to a belated realization, and the anxiety seems to have left him, suddenly. He sits like a man who is ready to face the inevitable.]

junhui... has come to realize that seokmin is the last mafia. he also realizes that it barely matters anymore. he's resigned, even. if they successfully vote out joshua, then the only way they can win is if either jeonghan blocks the other mafia, or if the still unknown doctor pulls off a miracle save. it's only with this series of events that they can get a chance to vote seokmin off in the next round. junhui won't say what he knows just yet. he doesn't want to break jeonghan's heart like that. not before he has to.

what junhui doesn't know is that... this series of events is impossible. why? well, in round 4 jeonghan already used his ability on seokmin. according to the rules, he can't do it again. and, they don't have a doctor. vernon's been eliminated.

this i think is the cool thing about interactive series! there were many many different ways for this to end, but i think that minghao being voted off was the deciding factor that tipped the game towards a mafia win. the only thing is, none of the players know this.

[JEONGHAN nods, understandingly. It’s a great burden, to be responsible for so many lives – and a matter of chance, too. He can only select players he hasn’t chosen before, and even among them there is a chance he might not get it right.] 002 | JEONGHAN: I’ll try my best. [JUNHUI gives JEONGHAN a sorrowful, empathetic look.]

poor jeonghan doesn't know that the person he trusts the most in this game is on the opposite team as him. but junhui does.

the round ends with a jihan exchange - very tense and at odds.

VOTING: not surprisingly, joshua got most of the votes this time. everyone had votes except for seungkwan this round, which definitely makes sense considering the way i portrayed them throughout the game.

ROUND 7:

sooo... at this point, it's pretty clear to everyone that it's joshua. seungkwan is the only one that has doubts, but that's because he's the only one with no definitive information: jeonghan's the pharmacist, seokmin's the mafia, junhui's the detective.

010 | SEOKMIN, desperately: This means we just need to find one more, right? Then we’re free?

oh, seokmin...

you'll notice how to the end, jeonghan doesn't ever suspect him.

004 | JUNHUI: It’s not your fault. 003 | JOSHUA: Saying it over and over again doesn’t make it hurt any less. 004 | JUNHUI: Still… you did what you had to do. It’s a rule of nature.

a somewhat raw moment between detective and mafia. junhui is well aware that these things are not within their control. it's a game you can't necessarily beat.

012 | SEUNGKWAN: Well, it’s all up to you this time, my friend. And I’m hoping either of you two are the doctor, or we have a worse chance than I thought.

so this is actually not possible! sorry seungkwan! like i said before (i think), vernon's dead and jeonghan can't use his ability on seokmin twice.

junhui acts disinterested after this because he's very well aware it probably won't work. he doesn't know who jeonghan's used his ability on already, but to him it doesn't really matter anyway. if he lives, he lives. if he dies, he dies.

the night scene follows after this. seokmin wonders who to choose, and ultimately ends up selecting junhui, who some might say is the most obvious answer. junhui's choice doesn't matter since he already knows the answer, but he chooses seokmin - and gets blocked. no light shows up, because as you'll see later on, jeonghan chose him.

[As he speaks JEONGHAN looks straight at JUNHUI, who slowly shakes his head. The temperature of the room seems to  as everyone comes to the chilling realization.]

this scene is after jeonghan tells everyone he chose junhui

and this is also when they realize that, well, they're screwed. because junhui's eliminated and now it's one mafia and two civilians.

following this, seungkwan says he knew from the start it wasn't junhui, who says he doesn't blame him. junhui breathes his last beside minghao. poetic?

PLAYER XXX: GAME CLEAR. PLAYER XXX: GAME OVER. PLAYER 002: GAME OVER.

ruh roh

i chose to hide seungkwan's and seokmin's numbers because you the readers at this point only know for sure jeonghan's role

i will say that this stretch onwards was the hardest to write for multiple reasons. it begins with the game announcing that seokmin has successfully cleared it. he doesn't feel so successful, though. but what was he supposed to do? he didn't pick the role. he didn't have a hand in the game. he bids his final goodbye to his friends, because he must go and figure out away to survive these strange lands. in ten days, he must play another game.

important to note that he had originally wanted to ask junhao about their experience in the borderlands so far, but the game resulted with both of them dead. so, he will have to befriend people and collect information on his own.

[He takes it, regardless. A token of victory, if he can even call it that. What has he won? In the game’s aftermath, SEOKMIN is utterly, completely alone. But he cannot stop here and give up now.]

this is the key part of this ending i wanted to be able to drive home. throughout the game, you see him staying very close to jeonghan, especially in the later rounds and after mingyu's elimination. above all, seokmin is afraid to be alone. but with winning this game, he is thrust into a position where he has no choice but to face his biggest fear.

the chapter ends with seokmin introspecting a little, asking some necessary questions. he doesn't have answers, but that doesn't matter. he has to keep going. the scene ends with him taking his visa with him and finally leaving that bar, going out into the empty streets and praying he'll find a way to survive - whether on his own, or by joining forces with someone else.

originally i was worried this would be an anticlimactic ending, until i realized not all endings happen big. seokmin has absolutely no control over any of these things. if you've seen the show (which i highly recommend) it explains the theory behind the games somewhat.

it's a bit desolate, isn't it? but it's the truth. he must keep playing.

READER THEORIES, AND FINAL THOUGHTS:

i have to say, this was easily the most fun part of writing this series. jay, rae and calli in particular would be discussing the rounds somewhere in a thread or group chat, and i'd be just watching the chaos go down as they tried to figure out what was going on.

one of calli's earlier theories was that the mafia was cheoljunhao, and the mafia game was a game that they always played and won every time. it was incorrect, but actually that could make for such a good plot! additionally, it's canon in alice in borderland that there are some people who run their own games while posing as players.

jeonghan was quite an interesting case - there were multiple people who suspected him a lot in the earlier rounds, but votes for him dropped to zero after the pharmacist role reveal. i was tempted to make it a role he made up for himself, like in the actual don't lie, but sticking with it played a huge part in the later rounds.

it was also theorized that minghao was the detective, for similar reasons that junhui actually had the role. seungkwan was also assumed to be the detective, which is actually the exact kind of confusion i intended! sorry lol.

in fact, junhao as a duo were under a LOT of suspicion from around round 2 or 3 onwards. specifically, ryn and jay were set on them for quite a bit - sorry guys! they were both innocent! some people did think junhui was the detective, which was accurate. if you think about his behaviors and subtle signs throughout the rounds, i believe they can lead to this conclusion quite readily.

(funny sidenote: in the round before soonyoung got voted off, i wrote in my planning doc, and i quote, "i hope readers realize soonyoung isn't the mafia. he's just insane." )

vernon's identity was concealed to the end, and people actually thought he was the mafia for sure. i think it was kinda surprising when he got eliminated at night haha but he was innocent!

seokmin kind of went under the radar for most people until the end, and rae accurately pinned him as the mafia twice. joshua had the guise of being the doctor, so that happened to him too - i think it was calli that thought he could be lying, but it wasn't a focal argument for most of the series. as for wonwoo, it was easy for him to play passively, and he might not have been caught at all if junhui hadn't checked his identity when he did.

you guys, you were my biggest motivation for this series, all of you. thank you for loving it and having fun with all the possibilities. it was truly an awesome experience. (also calli you scare me you need to work for the fbi or something man.)

all in all, i'm really happy with how this went, and i hope you guys are satisfied with how it played out, too! if you want to talk about it more, or have any questions at all, please feel free to come drop an ask, i'd love to discuss with you! (also, i really do recommend watching alice in borderland, if you don't mind the violence and some harsh scenes.)