— eternal summer / @revolvv
It's just like make believe
jaehoon does not remember much of his childhood outside of his grandfather’s music room. flashes of family parties, sneaking out for ice cream with his nanny, the sun setting into the blue waters of the sea.
but for the most part, his childhood remains a blur of performances, practices, and well, there is no need to live in the past; the things he does recall should be forgotten. buried with a burned career and disappointment.
though as jaehoon sits amongst his family, his eyes pulling from the abandoned meal on his plate to his surrounding, a memory pierces through. it’s faint, and the musician can barely piece the facial features. the figure sitting at a nearby table — a childhood friend who had drifted apart when jaehoon left to study in the states.
chae juwon, the name appears through the mist of nostalgia and foggy childhood memories.
his mother continues to drone on about some actress’ affair; his father nods his head. jaehoon is not needed for this conversation.
it takes a moment before jaehoon excuses himself from the table and instead makes his way towards his childhood friend’s table. this would have to entertain him for now, better than listening to c-lister gossip.
“juwon hyung,” the musician calls out, his smile earnest ( as he was taught to appear to others ),” it’s been awhile; how’s the dinner treating you?”
his tone filled with warmth — unlike the truth of the matter, that min jaehoon had forgotten about his old friend, and it had been years since they actually held an honest conversation with one another.
