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They were watching the news. Something about hate crimes happening in Russia. Or was it in Chechnya? Was it everywhere? It looked like it was everywhere, but mostly there. Because he could see it on the television, people protesting, outraged by the torture of a community.
The government encourages the killing of people suspected of homosexuality by their families.
And that was when he stiffened. Scared by the images and scared by the words flooding his head like a really bad dream.
“Are you okay?” asked Minho, probably feeling his body tense under his embrace.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered dully. He tried to relax, but it didn’t work because Chan and Felix started discussing the topic.
“It makes me sick,” started Felix in English. “I wish there was something I could do,” he added with an anxious voice. Hyunjin couldn’t see him since he was on the couch and the two Australians were sitting on the floor, but he noticed Felix fidget in discomfort.
“Living in a world where people can take you and kill you is scary… I just want to save them. I know it’s stupid,” he continued in a tiny voice.
Chan looped his arm around Felix’s shoulder, “it’s not stupid when you want to do the right thing.”
Hyunjin stopped listening to them and focused on the screen. Yes, he wanted to save them too, save everyone, so no one would be hurt or worse, dead. If he were there, somewhere unsafe, he’d be killed too.
If he were to tell a story, he’d say, I’m more than one hundred stories tall and I carry the weight of their deaths on my shoulders, and I can’t fall down, it can’t be too heavy for me, because I’m lucky to be alive and they aren’t . A bit too gloomy to write, maybe.
However, he would never tell this story; it should be kept inside him and locked without a key. Caged and forgotten. He wouldn’t feel scared all the time, then.
“We can change the channel if you’re too uncomfortable,” said Minho in a whisper.
“It’s fine, I need to do my chores anyway. It’s my turn this week,” he smiled slightly and went to the laundry room. He heard, “I hope our fans are okay. I know we have lot of gay fans too.” He stiffened again, back pressed against the door.
He should have managed to deny this part of him a long time ago.
It happened when he was fourteen.
Hyunjin had always been a shy kid despite having many friends. People were drawn to him like moths to flames. Or more like bees to flowers, as his mother once countered, “you’re not a flame. You’re not burning them, honey. You’re beautiful and they love you.”
Yes, other kids adored him. He could be a flame and they wouldn’t be bothered by the burn, anyway.
The teachers liked him because he was smart and obedient. Hyunjin, there’s this science contest, you should sign up. Hyunjin, can you bring those books to the staff room? Hyunjin, you should try basketball. You’re tall. You’d be a good asset for the team.
They were proud of him, because he tried even when he wasn’t the best; because he was an easy child, well-mannered and polite, lot of smiles curling his lips which made him look like a doll; because he was a sweet little boy.
Boys liked him because he was good at everything, not the best but good enough to be picked in each sport teams. He was pretty, which helped him grow an attitude against the rude ones who called him names. And they liked him even more, because he wasn’t afraid to scratch his pretty knees and dirty his delicate hands in the mud if it meant beating up some assholes.
So girls liked him too. They called him handsome and gritty and smart and nice and flawless. They made him shy and blush. They made him feel bad because he didn’t understand.
All of them made him feel like he was some sort of immaculate thing. People’s eyes were on him and he didn’t know what to do with that. It felt good but it felt dangerous at the same time. Like it was a double-edged-sword, except he didn’t know how to wield a sword yet.
That was when fear started to swamp his little world. He was scared to disappoint them and scared that he had led them on to portray him like someone who could have everything without doing anything. That wasn’t him but they didn’t know what. They liked their Hyunjin to be this way; their way. But he wasn’t.
“You’ll marry a beautiful, smart girl. You’ll make beautiful, smart babies.” His mother loved him. He was everything to her. The smartest, the prettiest, the loveliest. Her baby. Her little boy, cute and shy but resourceful and brave.
“You have my hands,” she said, locking fingers with him. “Long and clean, you could be an artist. You could be anything you want.”
He had her eyes, sparkling but cold, keeping distance with the others.
He had her lips, plump and pink. Beautiful when he smiled, beautiful when he talked.
He had her hair, soft and black and shiny. Girls liked to touch them. Boys liked to touch them too.
He had her legs, lean and toned. Ideal for running and swimming and climbing the trees like an agile cat.
He had her charm, her manners, elegant and delicate.
It happened when he was fourteen.
A boy tackled his legs, held his hands down, brushed his soft hair out of his face with his nose and kissed him. He was a scout, and Hyunjin was a scout too. So under the trees, while the others were still playing treasure hunt, he kissed him.
One, two, three kisses. Hyunjin didn’t move, the boy smelled like wet grass and tasted like burned boy scout cookies.
He looked down at him with a cocky grin. “You taste like my girlfriend,” he said, “you smell like her too.”
He leant down again to steal another kiss but Hyunjin pushed him off. “No!”
“Why not?” asked the boy, yanking him towards a tree to press against him. “I know you like it,” he kissed him again, trying to slip his tongue in but Hyunjin turned his face to the side. The boy looked down at him with a smug face, “faggot.”
So Hyunjin smacked him hard until he tumbled to the ground. He kneeled and smacked his face again to break his nose. “Be careful who you’re messing with,” he warned, then hit him one, two more times, listening to the boy’s cries before getting up.
“I’m not your toy, get it?”
The boy nodded, hands clutching at his nose.
Later at the camp, after Hyunjin’s team found the treasure, their gazes met and the boy lowered his head in shame. Boys were stupid and could do stupid things… But the kiss got him curious, so he lowered his head in shame as well.
It didn’t stop there though, the word, the faggot slipping out of their mouths once in a while.
It happened a few times during his teenage life, not enough for him to care though he never forgot. Besides, he wasn’t the only one. Smarter and skinnier boys were targeted as well but they didn’t pay attention. It was just a word thrown in rare occurrences by stupid boys trying to look cool, like loser, fatty or four-eyes. It didn’t mean anything, really.
It didn’t. Until around sixteen years old, a cute girl confessed to him. He said yes when she asked him out because she was very kind, she had good grades, and she smelled like candies. He liked candies. Her lips were soft and sticky from lip gloss, but it tasted like strawberry jelly so he didn’t mind.
She always came to support him during his swimming tournaments or football games. She baked cookies for him and his team; better than the boy scout ones made by clumsy boys who just wanted to roll in the mud.
She said, you could be an athlete .
She said, you could be a model .
She said, I think you could be anything because you have a faculty to adapt and a taste for danger that makes you develop new skills with ease.
It sounded familiar but she only meant good. Like his mother, and his teachers, and his friends, she meant good. She was a clever girl. She spoke well and her words swirled in his head, loud and clear. That was true. He tried everything, all the sports, all the school subjects. He was good, better than average even. Therefore, he had to be the best in his relationships with people too, he had to be a good boyfriend for her and for the ones looking at them with envy.
But what if he made a mistake? Would they be quick to bury him like he was so afraid of or would they stay ignorant because they forced on him a polished image he couldn’t control?
He didn’t know.
Who was he?
Maybe he never knew. So he let them create a perfect Hwang Hyunjin and played along.
One time, her hand slipped too high on his thigh when they kissed in his bedroom and he stopped her, heart beating fast from the fear.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried that she might have gone too far.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. She smiled, told him it was okay and they just held hands while watching a movie. He tried to focus on her perfume, on her soft curly hair and her smooth legs tangled with his, but he felt out of place.
Like he didn’t belong.
There was this boy among their group of friends, Hyunjin did know him because they hang out with the others but that was all. He was seventeen and looked twenty, and he was good at maths so sometimes he helped Hyunjin. Sometimes Hyunjin needed help in a subject or two, like maths or statistics. See, he wasn’t so perfect, after all.
Hyunjin liked books better than calculators. He possessed a stack of thriller, romance, fantasy, political and psychology books in his tiny bedroom. He even had a small collection of poems. He needed to stay educated because he didn’t want people to tell him he was like a stupid doll, pretty but empty inside.
That was when it happened again.
They were doing homework in the library, sitting side by side because it was easier to look at the other’s copy and help.
“Is everything good with her?” Hyunjin heard him ask. He blinked, not knowing why his relationship with his girlfriend mattered suddenly. “Yes, why?”
“I’m just asking,” the boy grinned. “She told my girl you didn’t want to take it further.”
“She’s right, I didn’t,” he confirmed. “I’m not in a rush and I’m not dating her for what’s between her legs.”
“You really are a good person, uh,” said the boy calmly. Hyunjin looked at him, fully looked at him, not with the corner of his eyes this time.
The boy was broad and taller than him, his skin was tan and he kept his hair short. He wore a leather jacket over his school uniform and always loosened his tie after classes, just like Hyunjin. He looked like a bad boy but he was actually nice. They were in the same science club and in the same football team. And they always shared glances. Hyunjin suspected a mutual admiration, because they were both well-liked students. Handsome, tall and intelligent, since that’s what mattered to the general consensus.
Two brown eyes stared back at him, then a hand sneaked towards his head to flick on a strand of hair tickling his forehead. The touch lasted a few seconds and a strange tension rose when the boy lowered his hand.
They were talking through their pupils blown by something strange; something that brought a moment of clarity. Silence and the subtle sounds of their breaths made the air vibrate. Which was weird because Hyunjin heard his own heart rapidly thump against his ribcage, like it was in uncharted territory.
Before he could flee, before he could break this sensation of knowing , the boy curled his lips in a shy smile. He mirrored him unconsciously, some kind of heat blooming in the middle of his chest.
Boys. He loved boys.
Although finally understanding himself filled him with hope and wonder, a spark of fear creeped in the nook of his mind.
Back when he was a small child, when all he lived for was the playground and friends, some things between boys and boys and between girls and girls were frowned upon. And he didn’t understand why until he hit thirteen and heard faceless adults talk badly about other adults who liked rainbows.
Due to those bad words still ringing in his ears like a haunting spell, he picked black and white as his favoured colors.
He made sure he stayed perfect. Untainted by the colors; immaculate and hollow.
One day, while he was shopping at the mall with his friends, a woman in a suit approached him. A talent hunter. She gave him her business card, J.Y.P Entertainment written in its recognizable blue letters facing him. She looked for someone like him, handsome and tall. Someone who had the appearance of an artist but didn’t need to be one.
She didn’t say that. Instead, she said, “you caught my attention. We could use someone like you in our company.”
She asked about his grades, about his family, about his hobbies.
She was insistent and wanted him.
“I told you you could be a model,” cheered his girlfriend after the woman left. “You can be an idol or an actor.”
The thought of finally expressing who he was kept shimmering in his head. He always felt trapped in himself like his body was just a cage, too small to squeeze in all his feelings. He always felt like erupting, it was his chance to feel better, to be himself.
“Can you believe that you’ll be good at artistic stuff too? Like singing and dancing and doing splits or I don’t know,” one of his friends remarked eagerly. “You won’t have to study anymore.”
“You just have to be pretty,” another noted. “How lucky.”
Hyunjin frowned.
He didn’t want to be an empty doll.
At home, he found himself unable to speak as his mother asked him what was wrong.
“Nothing,” he whispered.
Worry appeared in her eyes, she took his hands and pulled him to sit on the couch by her side. “Tell me baby, did something happen?” She brushed his hair off his forehead, staring at him attentively.
“Is it okay if I don’t become a lawyer or a doctor?” he asked stupidly.
“What? I told you you could be whatever you wanted. Do you remember?”
He nodded, sticking the business card out of his pocket and waiting for her reaction.
She took it in between her slender hands, then looked up at him. “Is it what you want?”
He nodded again.
“Are you sure? You’re going to change schools, change friends, change your habits.” She gently intertwined their fingers, card forgotten on her lap.
“I’m sure. This is what I want to do.”
“I’m your mother, I’ll support you and your decisions.” She smiled, one hand coming up to cup the side of his face, “my baby will become an artist then.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he said in a tiny voice.
“It won’t be easy but I know you’ll succeed. I believe in you,” and she pinched his cheek playfully.
The stars twinkled above their heads, no clouds, no wind. With the full moon, the night was clearer than usual. It was like two in the morning and after never-ending hours of practice, they left the building to their usual convenience store.
“I want chips, or rice balls. Or maybe some fruit,” declared Seungmin among the rows, looking for something easy to eat. “Maybe I’ll just take a soda.”
“If you’re hungry then eat,” Hyunjin casually told him, following him with his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. He was only wearing a damp t-shirt underneath, and thin sport shorts, so he got chills because of the store’s fresh air. “I’ll wait outside.”
“You don’t want anything?”
“Nah,” he responded before leaving to sit on a bench near the trees. The store was close to a park. Their favorite park, to be exact. Wide and silent and mostly empty aside from the joggers and dog owners. It was the only location where they could go for a run or play basketball because there was a small field not too far. And also because they could sit in the grass, even lay down and roll, without any outside judgment.
He waited with his arms around his knees to keep himself warm.
Seungmin came after a few minutes and pulled his hood over his head to the nose. Hyunjin swatted his hand away, giggling despite being exhausted.
“I bought you a soda. I knew you’d drink mine if I didn’t,” Seungmin sat and inserted the can of soda between the dancer’s chest and knees.
Hyunjin hissed at the cold touch and pulled his sleeves over his hands to hold the can. “You know Changbin would have opened my soda already,” he said with a pout.
“Well, I’m not Changbin. There’s no way I’m babying you,” Seungmin grinned smugly.
“He’s not babying me. Not all the time anyway.”
“Uh? You have him wrapped around your finger ever since the day you two met each other.”
“I can’t blame him. I’m too cute.”
Seungmin snorted at that, “I’m cute too yet he’s not cooing at everything I do.”
“Have you tried being nicer to him?”
“Can’t do, he’s too fun to mess with.”
Hyunjin bumped their shoulders and he stayed like that, against Seungmin’s thinner frame. The singer quietly ate his chips, feeding some to Hyunjin from time to time. “Minho told me what happened the other day,” he began nonchalantly.
“What happened the other day?” asked Hyunjin, anxiety poking him already. He knew what day Seungmin was referring to, but he didn’t know why was it relevant enough to talk about.
“You were watching a gay massacre on tv and freaked out.”
“Everyone would freak out while watching a massacre,” he said, trying to keep his voice low and trying to act normal. No stiffening body this time, because Seungmin would notice it immediately.
“I know you don’t like those kind of things, human abuse, discrimination, murder,” Seungmin kept eating like it was nothing. And it should be nothing. It should be just an everyday talk like all the others in the world. Like clothes, pets, weather and music.
“I just have a lot of empathy, that’s why I freaked out,” Hyunjin straightened up, nervously toying with the can between his palms.
“Yeah I know you’re a sensitive person,” the singer turned towards him to meet his eyes. “I’m just worried, that’s all.”
“Worried for what? I’m fine,” he frowned as teeth dipped in his lower lip painfully. “I don’t get why Minho told you. It’s nothing.”
“Hyunjin-” Seungmin tried but Hyunjin cut him off.
“No, I don’t like when you guys talk about me behind my back!” He was angry. Panicky. About to cry because since he couldn’t trust himself with words, all he could do was yell inside and cry.
“Hyunjin,” Seungmin called firmly as he grabbed his forearm. “Hyunjin, I know.”
And Hyunjin hid his head in between his arms, knees tensing and ankles crossing like they wanted to disappear.
“It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with that,” he said gently. Hyunjin’s hands were balled into fists, pulling at his hair at each shiver. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s okay.”
“What’s okay?” He whispered weakly.
“It’s okay to be attracted to boys.”
“I’m not!” And he started sobbing. Why was it so hard? Why was it so scary? It was just love, so why did hate devour him whole? “I’m not…”
“I really hope that one day you will stop crying because of that,” Seungmin spoke softly as he wrapped an arm around his friend’s trembling form.
They waited until Hyunjin’s cries turned into small sniffs. His eyes were red and puffy and his hair was a mess, spiking here and there.
He looked at Seungmin miserably, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “How did you know?”
“I just do.”
The dancer’s lips started quivering. He murmured in a broken voice, “it doesn’t make me feel better.”
“You’ll accept yourself one day,” Seungmin said, holding his hand tightly. “I’m here for you.”
Hyunjin sniffed again, “thanks.”
They went home with Hyunjin’s hand secured in Seungmin’s.
“Sometimes I want to die,” the dancer confessed in a whisper, eyes planted on the horizon as he walked dully.
Seungmin squeezed his hand, “that’s why I’m holding you. I’ll never let you go.”
Hyunjin’s black eyes reflected the sky and the stars but there was no spark.
Before reaching the age of sixteen, he was convinced that he wouldn’t be able to survive his first break up. He watched all the dramas and all the movies and he read all the books where the protagonist ended in a pile of tears and suicidal wishes. He had a soft heart so he knew he would die if his first love left him helpless and hollow with his heart chopped off his chest.
Or so he thought, as he broke up with his first and last girlfriend. He wasn’t sad because he could stop pretending being in love with her then. She deserved better, someone who really loved her. Not him, not a guy who preferred a boy’s slight touch on his hair to a girl’s sweet kiss.
“Okay,” she said with a sad smile. “It’s better like that anyway. We won’t see each other as often anymore.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to waste your time.”
They were in a coffee shop. He bought her flowers, tiny daisies that suited her because she liked cute and small things, like butterflies, ribbons, bobby pins or candies.
“Well, I liked being with you. You’re kind and… real,” she bit her lips, reaching to take his hand.
“Real?”
“Yes, real. Don’t ever change. I hope you don’t. You’re a good person. Boys are stupid but you’re different. You’re better,” she grinned, making him blush. She has always been good with words.
“I hope you find someone who will make you happy,” he said, content that she wasn’t hurt by the conclusion of their relationship. Or not as much as he was afraid of.
“No boys for me this year. I’m not in a rush anymore... Before meeting you, I dreamed about the charming prince, someone who would treat me like I was precious, and then you appeared. Really, I had a great fairytale with you.” She winked, pulling his hands towards her to make him lean closer. “But there’s more to a woman than a man, right?”
“I’m not a prince charming. I couldn’t even kiss you properly,” he stated, thinking about their sloppy and awkward first kiss.
“That’s exactly why you were one. I was your first princess and to be honest, I liked being in control,” she chuckled, her rosy lips curling in a playful grin.
“Yeah, I know you like being in charge. I can see you in court, defending people behind the bar. You’ll be a good lawyer,” he said in sincerity. She was an amazing girl already. She would grow into an amazing woman too.
“Of course I’ll be a good lawyer. But what about you? You have a soft voice, so you could be singer. But you have great body proportions and you’re flexible, you could be a dancer too. Or a model. I can see you as a model,” she talked cheerfully. “But what if you become a rapper? All dark and trying to look cool but looking more like a loser.”
He laughed because she was only teasing him.
After finishing their decaffeinated coffee, he paid and they went outside to say goodbye.
“We can stay friends, right?” she asked, uncertain.
“Of course,” he reassured her. “You’ll be the first to know if I become a loser rapper.”
She hit him on his shoulder. “Okay, let’s stay in touch then.”
Each concert was different to the other depending on the country they were performing in. Some fans were appreciating their music in a quiet way, sitting and watching them with smiles on their faces. Some others were jumping and shouting with joy and waving various Stray Kids merchandise. And there were the fans who threw stuff on stage, like banners, bunny ears or flags.
Like the rainbow flag or the one in pink, purple and blue.
Hyunjin watched as Felix happily picked the rainbow flag, trying to wrap it around his body but it was too big so it made him trip on his feet a few times.
He saw Jeongin put on a hairband with two small rainbow flags spiking on top of his head.
Then something shiny hit one of his leg and he spotted a wrist chain adorned by many colorful charms. He leaned down to pick it up and locked it around his wrist, shaking his hand slightly to see all the pieces dangling and clattering together. It was pretty, the colors and the silver chain twinkling under the spotlights.
He looked at the fans and waved towards them, hearing the same clicking sounds, and they screamed harder.
After the concert, they all gathered in one hotel room to record themselves on live and thank the fans who had come to see them. Hyunjin quietly laid his head on Minho’s chest as Chan closed the live and silence took over the room.
They were all tired from the concert, sprawled on top of each other on the double bed or the couches, so no one moved a finger when the leader told them to go back in their rooms to sleep.
“This is my room and there’s no place for me to sit,” said Chan in fake annoyance.
“You can sit on me,” offered Minho with a smirk, patting his legs.
They all snorted or made several sounds of disgust like ew, ewww, it’s too gross I’m leaving. And half of them left with groans because they really didn’t want to move even though their bedrooms were on the same floor. But they had to go to sleep, eventually. There was no time to waste being awake and lazy since they had a plane to take early in the morning.
Hyunjin was too comfy against Minho, though. He didn’t want to get up because the older kept toying with his hair and it felt good. Besides, Jisung was wrapped around him from behind so it was really too warm and comfortable to move.
“What about you three?” asked Chan, pushing Felix against Jisung and laying down on his side of the bed with a sigh. “What’s your excuse to stay?”
“I won’t leave without my roommate,” responded Felix as he curled his arm and leg around Jisung.
“And I’m too lazy to leave. Can’t we just all sleep here?” complained the rapper, nuzzling Hyunjin’s neck.
“We’re five in a bed made for two,” tried Chan. “I don’t want to wake up on the floor.”
Minho snickered and Hyunjin felt his ribcage vibrate under his ear.
“Hwang, make them leave my room,” said Minho as he pinched his cheek painfully.
Hyunjin whined and batted the hand away, “why me?”
“Because you’re a bossy bitch,” he replied, articulating the last two words in a broken English.
Felix cackled, laughing with his whole body and bumping against Chan who let out a chuckle.
Minho tried to pinch him again, then proceeded to tickle him with one hand, the other still in the younger’s hair. Hyunjin grabbed his wrist, his forearm sticking out of the loose sweater he was wearing, and his bracelet banged against Minho’s.
“What’s that?” The older swiftly looped his forefinger around the shiny piece.
“What’s what?” Jisung looked up and Felix turned away from Chan to eye them.
“Looks expensive,” noted Minho, flicking each colorful charm with his nail. “I think that’s the gay flag, then the bisexual one,” he pronounced with each flick. “And my knowledge stops here.”
Felix climbed on top of Jisung to yank Hyunjin’s hand towards him, “I know them all, actually.”
“Really?” asked Jisung, stuck under the younger’s body but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I had a sex education class in Australia where they talked about genders and all the sexual orientations, so everyone would have safe sex, you know,” he explained, intertwining his fingers with Hyunjin to get a better look at the bracelet. “So that’s the lesbian flag, then there’s the pansexual flag, the transgender one and the asexual flag.”
“We’ve seen them at New-York pride last year,” reminded Chan with a yawn as he sat up and looked at them from head to toe. “You know why you’re okay being squished against each other like that?”
“Because we like each other?” supposed Felix, his hand still in Hyunjin’s.
“No, because we don’t know what personal space is.”
“Don’t try psychology on us,” groaned Jisung.
“I’m trying to say that we’re too many in one bed and we can’t have a good night sleep like that. For the record, I can’t.”
“I agree, get the fuck off me I need to pee,” Minho wiggled himself out of Hyunjin’s embrace and tumbled on the floor. “If when I comeback, you’re not out of my bed...”
He didn’t need to say more for Jisung and Felix to sit up and make their way out of the room. Hyunjin stayed though, he was the only one without a roommate and he hated being alone. Especially being alone with his thoughts.
He rolled over towards Chan and slowly sneaked an arm around his waist. The leader looked down at him with a teasing glint in his eyes, “what is it?”
“Can I sleep here?” he asked in a tiny voice, rubbing his forehead against Chan’s shoulder.
“Of course,” and Chan turned off his bedside lamp then shifted to hold him against his chest.
Hyunjin closed his eyes, listening to Chan’s heartbeat to lull himself to sleep. He felt the mattress dip behind his back and wondered if his friends were really that open minded.
Would they still love him if they knew he was attracted to boys?
Overall, changing school and practicing everyday to get scolded and humiliated by his new teachers wasn’t that bad. It didn’t change his perspective of things. If anything, it made him work harder and push himself beyond pain and tears.
But as a sensitive soul, he hated how they treated him like he was just a shell they kept punching on because it couldn’t crack unless it gave up. And Hyunjin would never give up.
He had guessed right the moment the talent hunter came to him; they wanted him to look like an artist without the need to be one. They kept bringing his efforts down, telling him how bad he was at dancing and how his poor elocution made him sound like a kid who dawdled too much in the streets.
However, he had learnt to embrace the pain because in no world would he let people speak ill of him like he was a nothing. That was the ugly side of how human dynamics worked and how, especially in his country, people were just goods to be taken, used and thrown. Not to mention the fucked up shit going on behind the curtains , as Changbin would say.
“They’re trash and we can do nothing. It’s like we’re gum and they spit us once they can’t use us anymore. But who am I to talk? I’m just a product of this rotten world, like a small carriage bolt in their giant gears,” Changbin snapped once, cursing despite being told not to. They were sitting in a small practice room with no window.
“Those lines sounded good. Let’s write it in our shit-we-cant-say-unless-its-a-mixtape notebook,” said Jisung, scribbling down on a crumpled piece of paper.
They would curse and complain about how nothing in the world wasn’t fair to anyone, like little rebels about to prepare a coup d’état, except they were just a bunch of teenagers bundled up in a tiny room. Their minds too wild for the pragmatism of the reality.
At least he made good friends. Some were already more talented than the others but it didn’t matter because they wanted to debut together and they would help each other for that. They bonded over ambition and struggles. They bonded over speeches and promises, remove one and the house of cards collapse. That can’t happen to us, okay?
Three of them, the best ones, were already so good with words… Hyunjin didn’t even know how to form thoughts; his head too small for all the things he wanted to say and all his feelings clashing and confusing him even more.
Sometimes he missed his mother. He couldn’t be a little boy anymore, but he liked spending the little time he had with her, at home. Her touches on his hair, her cakes, her I love yous.
“Did they say if you’ll be in a group or not yet?” she asked warming a water pot. It was the evening, the lights were turned low and she was making chamomile tea to help him relax.
He was sitting at the table, “no, but there’s gonna be a survival show and they’ll decide if they want to keep us or not.”
She turned to him, “they really love to play with kids’ dreams, uh?” She ruffled his hair and kissed him on the forehead, “I believe in you and in your little friends too. They’re nice kids, they’re nice to my boy.”
“There’s one guy I can’t get along with, we fight all the time,” he said, frowning a bit. “I wish we could become friends but… he’s too annoying.”
“You may not get along, but you share the same dream.”
“Yes, I think it will get better once we mature… I can’t wait to grow up,” he voiced eagerly.
“Okay, grown boy, I need you to go by the convenience store and get me some veggies or else I can’t make you breakfast tomorrow. You can buy yourself some snacks if you want.”
“Yes, mom.”
So he put on his sneakers as well as a large hoodie he borrowed from Changbin because he thought it looked cool. He walked a bit in the chilly night, cars passed by slower than usual but the streets were still a bit packed.
He went in the store to get the veggies and some jellies for himself. As he paid and went out, he bumped someone’s shoulder. Leather jacket and short hair and ripped jeans.
“Yo, Hyunjin! It’s been a while,” the boy greeted him with a huge smile.
Hyunjin was seventeen and barely kept in touch with his old friends anymore. Practicing and going to class every day meant only passing doors and losing track of time. Nights became mornings and mornings stayed mornings because you couldn’t be slower than life. Life didn’t wait for you, so you had to run until you couldn’t, but if you couldn’t, it meant you died.
“How have you been?” he asked, remembering how to be sociable. You weren’t sociable in the J.Y.P building, people greeted you with you’re early, did you do your homework, get ready and other hostile words.
“I’m alright. I got accepted into the university I wanted so it’s all good. What about you?”
“I’m alright as well… So you’re studying to be a teacher, right?” He remembered their old groupchat and the talks he didn’t engage in but still tried to read.
“Yeah, I liked teaching you maths,” the boy responded with a grin.
Hyunjin felt his cheek heat up despite himself. He was used to flirting because Changbin liked to tease him like that, playing with words and asking him out on dates, but that was Changbin. Changbin was different.
“I hope your future students will be better than me,” he replied, letting himself be guided by his old friend.
They stopped to a playground and sat down on the grass. Hyunjin took out his jellies and offered some to the boy who picked one and thanked him.
“C’mon, you were good. Don’t underestimate yourself,” the boy elbowed him playfully. “Hey, tell me, how is it? Did you meet celebs there?”
“Not really, I practice every day so I don’t see anyone except my teachers and bandmates.”
“You’ll be in an idol group?” asked the boy eagerly.
“Not sure, but I hope so, yes. I’m working for it.”
“Let me guess… You’re going to be a dancer.”
“How do you know?” Hyunjin blinked in confusion.
“Hum, I see your legs. I mean you always had a good body but you have dancer legs now,” the explained calmly, eyeing his thighs then staring at him again.
Hyunjin looked down to his shorts riled up from his sitting position. He suddenly felt self-conscious and exposed, like he was showing something he shouldn’t. He never minded compliments on his body. He knew he was lean and toned even if he wasn’t working out, but here, it meant something else.
The boy was watching him, watching him with eyes that talked like they did one year ago in the library.
“I could just be hitting the gym,” he whispered, feeling the same tension as before rising in the air.
Suddenly, he didn’t hear the cars. He didn’t hear the ringing of the stores’ bells. He didn’t hear people’s footsteps or their chatting. Time stopped, it was them and the empty playground and the cold grass under his butt.
The boy grinned again, “you hate working out. You prefer playing sports. So… Am I right? Are you a dancer?”
“Yes, and a rapper.”
“How cool! You really are amazing,” he said softly as he looked away, shoulders slumping slightly.
Hyunjin noticed his fingers gripping the grass. “I think you’re amazing too,” he extended his hand to squeeze the boy’s knee. “If you’re doing what you want and what you love, then you’re amazing.”
“It’s not what I meant,” the boy met his eyes in a heavy stare.
“What do you mean?” He swallowed thickly, his heart thumping faster.
“I don’t know if I can tell you. I wish it was easier.”
Hyunjin felt fingers sliding on the back of his hand, staying there, hesitant and soft. He couldn’t believe they were the same. Luck and sadness kept swinging back and forth in the nook of his heart.
Luck because the longing was mutual and sadness because there was nothing to be done about it.
They were just scared little boys among scary people in a scary world.
“I’m so sorry,” Hyunjin said, voice filled with sorrow as he tightly intertwined their fingers.
The boy reached towards his face with his other hand, placing a strand of his hair behind his ear. The touch was gentle, Hyunjin almost closed his eyes because it felt really nice.
“You look pretty with long hair.”
Somehow, he hoped they would be happy.
Hyunjin gazed at his church ring and at his cross necklace laying next to the colorful bracelet on the bathroom counter. Water droplets fell down from his hair on the pieces like a countdown. These two didn’t go together. They never did. He had always learned to look at them like two opposed things. Good and bad. Pure and dirty. Safe and dangerous. Natural enemies.
Yet he was both at the same time. He wanted these two parts of him to move in tandem but one kept trampling on the other until it was cracks and dust and nothing.
This was how he felt, broken with his feelings colliding leaving him like the lost little boy he had always been. Lost, and scared and unable to form coherent thoughts.
And his mother believed in him, to be a good boy and a good son, and to be perfect… Lying was bad, that’s what he learned too, but he’s been lying since he knew he liked boys. But liking boys was bad. Pretending was bad. But being filled with self-hatred was bad for him, really bad.
He was nineteen, and he had let his heart be built by everyone around him. The good people and the bad people. And he had learnt from each of them, the good things and the bad things. The threatening things. He had done what he was told to keep himself out of trouble but it didn’t prevent him to have opinions on his own.
So he knew love was love and only love and nothing else. Still, he didn’t feel safe enough to say it out loud. It would make it real then and that was scary too.
“Hyunjin, turn the lights off!” He heard one of his friends yell. Everyone wanted to sleep after coming back from touring but they couldn’t sleep with all the lights keeping them awake.
“Okay, sorry,” he answered, turning off both the lights of the bathroom and the living room. It was pitch black and it was perfect for his little online expedition. He figured he needed to know more about the people like him. About their lives and their thoughts and how they handled living in a world that hated them.
He made himself comfortable on the long couch, near the window so the moonlight could prevent his eyes from being blinded by his phone screen. He typed lgbt rights south korea , he read conversion therapy and discrimination and everything that made his blood boil out of fear and anger. Then he searched on L.G.B.T activity in general, and saw nightclub shootings, children killing themselves, anti-gay purges. He read stories about dead transexual people, dead muslims tortured in camps, dead women who were previously enslaved and raped.
His morbid curiosity morphed into a growing terror. All the images and all the words were printed in his pupils, making it impossible to forget. He remembered the concentration camps in Chechnya he saw on television the other day and it broke his heart even more.
No, it broke him.
It took him out of his little bubble, and broke him to the bones until he was a just a trembling body.
“What are you doing?” Seungmin sat next to him and snatched his phone, looking at the screen with surprised eyes. Then he slid the phone out of their reach and tried to touch Hyunjin.
“No!” Tears ran down his cheeks as millions of needles started to poke his skin.
“Please, calm down,” demanded Seungmin in a soft voice. He couldn’t fall asleep if Hyunjin wasn’t in his bed too. He’s been worried ever since he told him he knew. And knowing obviously triggered Hyunjin.
Seungmin never wanted that but he was young and tried to be there for his friend, although he didn’t know what to say or what to do.
“I can’t,” said Hyunjin in between sobs. “I can’t, I can’t…”
The horrible things were swirling and screaming in his head. Loud, so loud and scary.
“Breathe,” Seungmin told calmly, mirroring what he saw in the movies. “Focus on my voice.”
Hyunjin didn’t respond. He only shook harder because he felt like everything was falling apart, him first. He clumsily climbed off the couch to lie down on the floor and grip his limbs until his skin turned white. His breath hitched to the point Seungmin thought he was going to die.
“What’s happening here?” alarmed by the noise, Chan kneeled next to them, hair still messy and the print of the pillow on his cheek.
“I don’t know how to help him…” voiced Seungmin anxiously. He reached to hold Hyunjin’s quivering hand between his. He would hold him forever if it meant not losing him.
“What happened?” Chan came into his peripheral vision but didn’t get too close. He gestured to the others who woke up as well to stay in their bedrooms. “He needs space.”
“I don’t know. I found them here like that,” replied Chan quickly as he ungripped Hyunjin’s other hand from his head where he was pulling at his hair. “Hyunjinnie, name all things blue.”
Nothing.
“Hyunjin, all things blue,” the oldest repeated, he knew how difficult it was for the younger to speak because he was panting and trembling so much. “I’ll start, the sky is blue. What else is blue?”
“Water,” Hyunjin whispered, choking on a sob.
“Nice. Again, what else is blue?”
“Flowers… butterflies,” he named the blue things appearing in his head one by one as it pushed the wicked thoughts away.
“Yes, now name three European capitals.”
“Paris, London, Berlin,” he murmured weakly. His panic slowed but his muscles kept on twitching with the thoughts still vivid and menacing in the back of his mind.
Chan stroked his hair, looking down at him with worry.
Both of his hands were held tightly, it kept him grounded; he was back in the dorm with his friends who he loved very much.
“Tell me what happened,” demanded Chan. “Why are you having a panic attack in the middle of the night?”
Hyunjin blinked, searching for a convincing lie. “I don’t know,” he said instead, voice rough from all the harsh breathing.
The leader frowned, then looked up at Seungmin who hesitantly replied, “I can’t tell you.”
“What do you mean you can’t tell me? If you don’t tell me, it will happen again. And I’ll call the doctor next time because we can’t let one of us break down like that.”
“No! No doctor!” Hyunjin pulled his hand off of Chan's grip, panic rising again. Going to the doctor meant they would ask questions and that meant he had to make up lies because they would be watching him even more. He hated the lack of intimacy and freedom their lifestyle imposed.
Also he felt like a horrible friend to make them worry like that. He could see Jisung and Changbin crouched against the wall and waiting for him to calm down. He knew the others weren’t far, like shadows, they would be with him everywhere.
“I’m sorry,” he was crying again. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Hey, I’m sorry too,” the leader hugged him and stroked his hair. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Hyunjin sniffed against his chest.
The elocution practice neared its end as they read the last line on the paper. They’ve been articulating texts and reciting their raps for two hours now.
“Your diction really improved. You’re almost better than me,” Jisung grinned, folding his papers to squeeze them somewhere in his bag. “Almost.”
Hyunjin removed the pencil placed horizontally between his lips, “I can’t be better than a 3Racha.”
“But you’re a better dancer. You’re a dance Racha.”
“I’m also taller,” he said playfully before taking a sip from his water bottle and licking his lips a few times.
Jisung tapped on the side of the bottle to make him spill on himself, “yeah, and you’re clumsier.”
They established elocution sessions every two weeks to keep the habit. Sometimes Changbin would join them but he’d get bored very quickly and leave. To be fair, he didn’t really need to practice diction, neither did Jisung. Whereas the foundations of Hyunjin’s talent were based on training and also on his memory. Some things came naturally, like dancing, but he still had trouble executing what he learned without double thinking.
“It’s three on the morning and you still have strength for jokes?” Changbin entered the room, squinting his eyes dramatically, “why is it so damn bright here?”
“Not everyone is a dark crow,” replied Jisung. “There are doves among us, you know.”
“You’re definitely not a dove,” stated Changbin while switching two of the three lamps off. “Much better.”
“Now I can’t see shit,” complained the younger rapper. “Thanks stupid crow.”
Hyunjin giggled as Changbin sat next to him and said, “if you were a dove, you wouldn’t need to buy yourself glasses to see.”
Jisung threw his pencil towards the older who saw it coming and flicked it. It smashed against the wall and cracked.
Hyunjin pouted, “that was mine.”
“Don’t worry, crows are thieves and I bet Changbin has plenty of those,” Jisung smirked, earning a snort from the older rapper. Then he took his phone out of his pocket and cursed. “Shit, do you have your phone charger in your bag? I forgot mine at the dorm.”
Changbin handed him his bag and settled back against Hyunjin, he smiled up at the dancer and reached to pat his mouth. “Does it still hurt?”
“Nah,” Hyunjin pursed his lips to smooch at the fingers.
“Don’t do that. I might kiss you for real,” the older teased, retracting his hand.
Jisung let out a long ew as he plugged the charger in the socket. “Stop flirting, I’m still here.”
“You can flirt with us,” Hyunjin grinned, tapping the space next to him and earning a I’m coming baby in English from Jisung.
“I’m not sharing though,” said Changbin, his arm wrapped around the dancer’s shoulders.
Hyunjin leaned in the embrace and hooked his leg over the older’s. “How was your day?”
“Quiet and boring, that’s why I came,” he replied, taking one of the younger’s hand and intertwining their fingers. He brushed each knuckle with his thumb.
“What are you doing?” Hyunjin asked, amused.
“I’m worried about you,” the older said instead of answering his question.
“Why? I’m fine.”
“Are you?”
And Hyunjin unhooked his leg, untangled their fingers and straightened up, eyebrows arching into a frown. “It’s not because I had a panic attack once that I’m suddenly a poor little thing. Everyone has panic attacks.”
“That’s not true,” Changbin asserted, mimicking the younger’s position. “I’m worried. And we’re not talking about passing out and shit getting fixed by vitamins and sleep or less packed schedules.”
Jisung looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, next to the outlet. “He has a point.”
“Okay, I’m leaving,” Hyunjin got up but the older yanked him down.
“Please, listen to what I want to say. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but let me tell you what I think.”
Changbin’s eyes were pleading. He really was worried and Hyunjin felt horrible for treating him like an annoyance.
He slowly sat back, “I’m sorry…”
The older took his hand again.
“So, I’m your friend and I want to help you. But I can’t help you because I don’t know what you’re going through nor what you need. I don’t know what’s wrong, none of us do.”
Hyunjin felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes as he listened to each word carefully.
“We’re a team and we’re on our own. We only have each other so we have to look after each other. I know we don’t share all our worries between the nine of us, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone and like you can’t talk to us.”
Hyunjin started crying silently and Jisung immediately came to sit close to him and rubbed his thigh.
“I didn’t want to make you cry,” Changbin apologized, squeezing his hand. “Please, don’t cry.”
“What’s so wrong that you can’t talk about it?” the younger rapper asked. “I hate seeing you like that. I want to help you.”
“You can’t help me,” Hyunjin managed to say with his choking voice. All the bad thoughts were flooding his head again and mocking him for still being a scared little boy.
“Why?”
“There’s nothing that can be done,” he sobbed.
“What happened? Hyunjin, you have to tell us.”
He shook his head and hid his face in his free hand.
The two rappers shared apprehensive glances, then Jisung asked, “did someone hurt you?”
And Hyunjin wanted to yell, yes, everyone is hurting me. They’re hurting all the others like me. I’m safe as long as I don’t speak. But he couldn’t, telling would make it real and he wasn’t ready for that.
“Stop asking questions,” he managed to say. “If I tell you…” It was hard to calm down and stay coherent when fear of rejection creeped up his skin like a noisy swarm.
“Did someone touch you? Are they threatening you?” Jisung inquired, gripping his leg stressfully. “Please, tell me no one touched you.”
“No, no one touched me." He heard them breathe in relief. “But I’m scared that it would happen to me.”
What if he was sent somewhere where they would punish him in a certain way for liking boys? What about conversion therapies? What was happening during them?
“I assure you that nobody is going to touch you or harm you in any way. Please, talk to us...” said Changbin, laying his forehead on the younger’s shoulder.
Hyunjin wiped his runny nose with his sleeve and leaned back on the couch, bringing his knees against his chest to hug them tightly.
“You won’t like me anymore and I don’t want that,” he explained in a small voice.
Changbin gently brushed his hair out of his forehead, “there’s nothing in the world that will make me hate you.” He dried his wet cheek with a thumb, “trust me.”
“Same. I’m here for you no matter what,” added Jisung, tapping his fingers on the dancer’s knee. “So relax, take a breath and tell us. We’ll try to help you.”
Hyunjin brought his legs down and nervously toyed with the hem of his shirt. “It can change everything…” he whispered, biting his lips as his legs squeezed together.
“What could you have done that got you all scared to tell us?” asked Jisung. “I mean, you didn’t get a girl pregnant, did you?”
“Of course not,” he laughed.
Changbin smiled and so did Jisung when they heard him.
“And you’re not a criminal?”
“An alien trying to invade us?”
“A plastic bottle?”
“The pineapple on my pizza?”
Hyunjin shook his head as the questions got more absurd. “I really wish you wouldn’t take it as joke if I ever tell you, though.”
They stopped.
“Sorry, of course we won’t,” confirmed Changbin. “So what is it?”
He frowned, trying to organize his thoughts but it was really difficult. He tensed, squeezing his legs again as he pulled on his shirt anxiously.
They noticed, so Jisung said, “tell us how you’re feeling right now.”
“Hmm…” He blinked, looking at one, then at the other. “Lost. And… scared.”
“You’re scared, okay,” the younger rapper held his hand. “Are you scared because you think we’re going to hurt you?”
He nodded.
“I will never cause you any harm,” stated Changbin with a glint of determination in his eyes.
“I’m not talking about hurting physically, unless you really hate what I am,” he looked down. “But I’ll accept it. I hate myself too.”
“Hyunjin, listen. I know you’re afraid of our reaction, but I tell you there’s no way I’m letting you having this kind of thoughts towards yourself. This isn’t healthy at all. It can lead to worse and I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want to fail you as a friend. I wish you could feel free to tell us,” explained Jisung carefully. “I think I know what you’re talking about but I won’t say it because I want you to trust us enough to do it yourself.”
His heart started pulsating like there were hammers beating out the ground.
“Stop,” he whispered. “Don’t say no more.”
“You’re safe. You can say it,” Changbin softly told him, putting his hair behind his ear.
“You’re wrong. I’m not…” He started stuttering, “I don’t. I don’t like b… I’m not.”
“It’s okay,” vocalized Jisung quietly.
“No, it isn’t.”
Their touches were so gentle on his hair and on his skin. They only meant good, and they loved him, he knew that.
“But I’m disgusting. I can’t be perfect then and they want me to be perfect,” his voice was small, like a child’s. Really, he was only a little boy.
“You’re not disgusting,” Changbin kept on brushing his hair. “You’re perfect to us.”
“Take your time,” Jisung said. “We’re not letting you go before you feel better, okay?”
He nodded. He knew they would wait until he processed all his thoughts and felt safe.
Safe with them.
But it was still difficult to fathom.
“You promise you will never hate me?” He began tearing up again, like the miserable insecure and impure thing he was. He hated himself, how could they love him? They surely had a better heart than him.
Never , he heard them say. Never.
“Okay,” he murmured, “thank you.”
He figured everyone in the team knew. Just like Seungmin knew. Just like Jisung and Changbin knew. Friends just knew each other, how they thought and acted and ate and what they liked and disliked, and what were the touchy subjects and what were their boundaries.
So they knew but they never said a thing because they knew Hyunjin wasn’t ready too.
“I’m starving,” declared Jisung as he flopped on the couch in a huff. “I think I have snacks in my bag, though.”
“I hope it’s not rotten,” snorted Minho, gulping down water and handing the bottle to Hyunjin.
The mirrors of the practice room were all misty from all the moves they’d been rehearsing. The three of them ended up wet from head to toe, shirts damp and smelling like they poured liters of shampoo over their heads.
“I have lollipops,” he wiggled the sweets to their faces. “Cola is mine.”
“I’m taking the apple one,” Hyunjin said, popping the candy in his mouth after ripping the wrapping.
Minho and Jisung lazily sat on each side of him, yawning and spreading their legs since there was no one to remind them of manners.
“Tastes like my girlfriend,” voiced Minho in boredom.
“You don’t have a girlfriend,” Hyunjin noted as he leaned against Jisung and their heads touched.
“Exactly, it has no taste,” but he kept it in his mouth anyway.
“You know girls don’t taste like food, right?” teased Jisung. “If anything, they’d taste like lipstick.”
“Or lip gloss,” added Hyunjin casually.
“Oh, I forgot our Hyunjinnie had a girlfriend in middle school,” said the older playfully. “He must be so experienced with girls.”
Hyunjin looked up at Minho, “not really… we only kissed four or five times, I think.”
“I kissed girls once when I was fourteen,” told Jisung, toying with his hair while rolling his lollipop against the back of his teeth. “We were playing truth or dare. What a stupid game. But I had my first kisses there. It was kinda fun.”
“Yeah, we expect to get kisses when we’re kids, that why we play stupid games,” snickered Minho. “I dated a girl when I was younger. We broke up because I was too busy. It was nice while it lasted, though.”
“Were you sad?” Hyunjin mumbled around his candy.
“No, she wasn’t sad either. It was mutual agreement,” Minho tried to throw the stick of the sweet in the trash can but it fell next to it. “Have you kissed a boy?”
Hyunjin blinked at the sudden question.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?” Minho wasn’t teasing him, he was asking out of curiosity like they all asked each other if they ever drank alcohol or had sex before.
“Because…” He frowned. “You know why.”
The older hummed and Jisung asked, “did you want to kiss one?”
Did he want to? Yes, he wanted to kiss the boy once, on the way home from the library three years ago. But guilt and shame turned his belly upside down and he never wanted to feel that again.
He shook his head. “No, it’s wrong.”
“What?” exclaimed Jisung, turning his head to face him. “Why?”
“That’s what I learned.” Liking boys was one thing, acting on his longing for touches and pecks was another. It was bad and dirty and impure. He heard that many times already, they were intrusive thoughts now.
“Fuck what you learned, you can kiss whoever you want,” spoke Jisung in anger. He bit the lollipop harshly and the cracking sound reminded Hyunjin of when he gritted his teeth from the stress of being taken away and punished if someone ever knew he liked boys.
“It’s not that simple,” he whispered. He didn’t want them to be upset because of him.
“What do you think would happen if you kissed a boy?” Minho was facing him too, “nothing will hurt you and no one will judge you.”
“But it’s wrong in my head,” he toyed with his church ring. “You know why. I mean for me, I apply to myself what I learned. Of course I support the ones who live as who they are freely. But look what happens… They’re murdered.”
He thought about what he read. He thought about who murdered them. He thought about why. Why everything was hate and why he was taught to hate and why he couldn’t choose to love instead. Why beliefs made everyone willingly violent and proud. Why their vainglory made them decide who could live and who couldn’t.
“As long as we’re here, you will be safe,” Jisung patted his thigh. “I’m happy that you came this far though. Of course nothing is simple but it can be simpler than what you think.”
“It’s just so hard when I try to think,” and it was as scary too, so he stopped struggling on his thoughts and feelings. Back to the starting point.
“Love isn’t wrong. And you are safe. Look,” Minho gently took his chin between his fingers and spun his head so they were centimeters apart. “You can say no.”
But Hyunjin didn’t say no. Instead, he let the older lean in and kiss him. Soft. It was soft, and it didn’t last long but it felt good. Very good.
Minho grinned and leaned in again, his hand slid on his thigh for support because he slightly shifted up to deepen the kiss.
Jisung exclaimed a quiet oh my god as he grabbed Hyunjin’s other thigh, watching them kiss.
Hyunjin’s heart was racing as the kiss became sloppier and hungrier. His hands were holding Minho’s shirt, and the tongue in his mouth did amazing things. Warmth pooled in his belly, growing until his cheeks heat up.
The older cupped his face and bit on his lower lip and that was when Jisung squealed and gripped his thigh very painfully.
Hyunjin jolted in pain and broke the kiss, “that hurts!”
“Sorry,” the young rapper grinned impishly.
Minho sat back in his place, staring at him in mischief, “so, what is that bad?”
He blushed and shook his head shyly, “it was nice.” He licked his lips, his ears turning red as he lowered himself down a bit and hid his face in Jisung’s lap.
“Aw, so cute,” said Minho in a grin, patting his butt. “I’m happy that you liked it.”
“Minho kissed you!” Jisung teased while poking him everywhere on his body.
Hyunjin groaned, getting shyer, “shut up!”
“He kissed you with his tongue! His tongue!”
Hyunjin plastered one hand on Jisung’s mouth, “you’re not allowed to talk anymore!” He straightened up, taking his hand away as he noticed that his lollipop was stuck on his shirt. He snatched it off and threw it in the trash can successfully.
“Nice,” said Minho, sipping water lazily. Their eyes met and Hyunjin blushed again.
The older smirked, “I had no idea I had this power over boys as well.”
Jisung snorted, now scrolling on his phone, “boys like boys too.”
Hyunjin brought his knees to his chest and turned towards Minho. With his mind clearer, he asked, “do you like boys too?”
“No. I mean, probably not. But I could fall in love, who knows. Love isn’t something you control.”
“I understand,” he said, thinking.
“You like boys and you shouldn’t change yourself. You’re amazing as you are already.”
Hyunjin nodded, curling against Minho and laying his head on the older’s shoulder, “thanks.”
Jisung flopped down on his side. “Now that you feel better… Maybe you could tell us why you had a panic attack the other night? We still don’t know.”
“I was reading stuff online,” he replied.
“What stuff?” asked Minho, placing a hand on his thigh.
“Bad stuff… like, purges and camps and killings.” He took a breath, “it freaked me out.”
“Of course it did, it’s horrific.” The older turned a bit to look down at him, “don’t do that anymore. It’s self-harm. I don’t like to see you hurt.”
Hyunjin nodded.
“I know it’s too early, but it would be great if you could explain to everyone why you had a panic attack. Only if you’re ready though,” Jisung calmly spoke, straightening up and looking at him in worry. “It would help us understand as a group and maybe avoid triggers like… Watching the news or talking about those kinds of things.”
He hummed, “you’re really good with words, you know.”
Jisung smiled.
“I’m going to get ice cream. What do you guys want?” asked Changbin while getting up and fixing his cap on the top of his head.
They were at the park: Changbin, Felix, Jeongin and him. They came to skate. It was perfect because at two in the morning. They had the sports field for themselves.
That’s why Hyunjin liked the night so much. No noise, no people, nothing but peacefulness. And the sound the wind murmuring between the trees.
He waited on a swing while the two youngest skated and did flips a few meters away. He watched Changbin hand them their ice cream and walk towards him with two small packets in his hand.
“Strawberry as you requested, your majesty,” the older joked as he sat on the swing too. The space was large enough to fit them both.
Hyunjin giggled at the nickname and they started to eat in silence. Further away, Felix and Jeongin raced with their butts on the skates, shouting and pushing each other while holding their ice creams.
“Minho told me he kissed you,” announced Changbin curtly.
“He did.” He started swinging now, “does it bother you?”
“Yes.”
Hyunjin stopped his legs from swinging them.
“But not for the reason you think,” the older explained in a calm voice. “I just… I always wanted to kiss you.”
“I know,” he whispered. The way the older looked at him spoke volumes even though he didn’t know what it meant. And while the rapper always tried to kiss him in a playful manner, he knew that if he let him, it would mean more than two friends jokingly kissing.
Yet, he didn’t think that Changbin was in love with him. Maybe it was curiosity, and Hyunjin was pretty and soft and smelled good. Maybe it was just that.
“Of course you do,” Changbin was playing with the plastic bag of his ice cream. “I think no one would be surprised if they heard me.”
“Probably not,” confirmed Hyunjin softly. “But why do you want to kiss me?”
“You have pretty lips.”
“That’s not a reason,” he said. His ice cream was all gooey now.
“Then, I want to kiss you because I want to know why I want to kiss you, if that makes sense.” He looked at him, “I’m serious.”
“Okay,” Hyunjin smiled.
Changbin’s eyes opened in surprise, “really?”
“Yes.” He wanted to know too, he wanted to understand what was different about Changbin and why their friendship was weird and different from all the friendships he had in his short life.
So, the next night, once the building emptied, they met in Changbin’s studio.
Hyunjin flopped down on the couch and watched the older fold his notebook and close his computer… Only to open it again and put on some background music.
“I don’t want the silence to make it awkward,” he said as he rolled his chair towards the couch and sat next to the younger.
“Isn’t it already awkward because we decided a timing for a kiss?”
“Yeah, it doesn’t make it natural.” Changbin grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, we’re talking so it’s not awkward anymore.” Hyunjin smiled, but he was nervous too. The older couldn’t see his fingers fidgeting, hidden inside his sleeves.
“So...” Changbin stared at him, “you’re pretty today.” His ears started to redden, “I mean, you’re always pretty.”
Hyunjin smiled and took the elder's hands in his, “is that why you want to kiss me? Because I’m pretty?”
“Not exactly, no. But I like you, thus I like your looks too,” he replied in a serious voice.
“You like me?”
“I think I do. That's why I want to kiss you. I want to know.” Changbin shifted to face him completely and let go of their hold to rub his hands against his sweatpants. “But before I start…” He frowned, “I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you.”
Hyunjin tilted his head, “taking advantage of me, how?”
“Taking advantage of the fact that I know you’re attracted to boys. I don’t want you to think I’m jumping on you for an experimentation or something.”
“I’d never think that. I know you would never hurt me,” he murmured. The older is incapable of hurting anyone. Especially of hurting him. Changbin was all gentle touches and cuddles and supportive words.
“Okay. I want to kiss you because I need to know how I feel about you.”
“But what if we kiss and I’m the one hurting you?” He asked, suddenly unsure.
“If you reject me, I would accept it and move on,” promised Changbin.
A lie, because this wasn’t how love worked. Love was a double edged sword. Maybe Hyunjin would wield one half, after all. He would hurt his friend.
“Okay.” He reached to hold the older’s hand again and waited, “let’s do it.” And figure out together how we feel.
Changbin sightly lifted himself on his knees to lean in and place his lips against Hyunjin's. He lost his balance so their mouths collided and the younger grabbed his waist to steady him.
Changbin cupped his face, then kissed him.
Changbin tasted liked soda and smelled like soap, but Hyunjin knew that his natural smell was somewhere under his black t-shirt, and he wanted to tug at the collar several times to wave the scent to his nose. He wanted to smell more and also to kiss more. Because the kiss made his heart flutter and he didn’t know what it was but it was a better sensation than fear or shame.
The need to breathe pulled them apart.
Changbin sat down. Going away from his hold. So Hyunjin gripped the inside of his sleeves instead.
The older licked his lips and stared, “I don’t know what to say.”
Hyunjin blinked, anxiety creeping up his spine like a fast spider, “was it disappointing?”
“No, nothing you could do would disappoint me,” said Changbin, reaching to take his wrist. “But I don’t know how to word what I feel.” He placed his palm against his chest, where his heart was strongly thumping. “This is how I feel.”
“Is it… because you love me?” Hyunjin asked in a small voice. He counted each heartbeat, suddenly feeling very alive. Like he was dead moments ago.
This was how real feelings were. How real love could be. And it was there, behind a ribcage and waiting to explode.
“Yes. This is what I feel when I’m with you.” He let go of Hyunjin’s hand and lowered his head, “this is what I feel ever since I met you when we were sixteen.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he simply responded. Or maybe he did? Changbin was so kind and gentle, especially towards him. He made him feel special and he encouraged him and listened to his worries. And he let him cuddle, and sleep in his bed, and house him because Hyunjin’s school was closer to Changbin’s house. And he brushed his hair and they would stare at each other without saying anything.
So maybe he knew, because Changbin was different and his eyes were telling different things.
“You didn’t have to. It wasn’t my place to be in love with you, to be honest. I always felt like shit because I was flirting with you all the time and you thought it was just fun but it wasn’t because I was lying to you. That’s why I still feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“You never lied to me.” Hyunjin placed his palm against Changbin’s chest once again, “those are not lies.”
“No, but,” Changbin tried to object before the younger stopped him.
“No buts. Everything you said to me ever since we met, everything was real,” he stated firmly. “I know you love me, and I love you too, even if I don’t know what love is.”
Maybe love was more than dates and marriage and children. More than a man asking a woman out with flowers. More than making it official with a ring. More than holding hands in public. More than what kids were taught and more than what movies and books and songs depicted. Love couldn’t be only one way.
Love could be their way.
“You can’t tell me all those things and then take them away,” Hyunjin said in a quivering voice as tears gathered in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I made you cry again.” Changbin wiped his cheekbone with the back of his knuckles. “You don’t know how much you mean to me,” he whispered.
“Then tell me,” he sniffed.
The older bit his lip, “you are so important. You make me feel really wild things I can’t even describe. Like… millions of butterflies are stuck in my chest and want to go out. Or more like big fat snakes squirming and pulling at my bones. Sometimes they reach my throat and that’s when I cry.”
“I make you cry?” asked the younger in a shaky voice.
“Sometimes I cry because I love you too much.”
“Like when you pour water in a full glass?”
“Yes,” smiled Changbin.
Hyunjin’s lips curled up and he moved to the rapper’s lap to hug him, “you promise that we will never grow apart?”
“I promise.”
“You promise that we are us and that we have this and it doesn’t need labels?”
“I promise.” Changbin held him tightly, “I will never let you go.”
Hyunjin sniffed again, “can you feel my heart?”
“Yes.”
Things weren’t so bad after all. Everything stayed the same, except that he felt a little better now that he worked through the chaos of his thoughts.
Nevertheless, every traumatic memory left his feelings in a jumble, and he couldn’t avoid the sensation of being in great danger. He knew nothing would happen but everyone had their fears; some were just more visceral than the others, even if the threat wasn’t tangible.
And he would never get used to the feeling.
“I’ll read the next question,” Jeongin said from the floor, where he was laying on his belly. “If you were a girl, which member would you date?”
Seungmin sighed, eyes focused on his phone where the questions have been sent by their manager earlier, “it’s always the same questions. Pass.”
“We can’t pass. They will ask us tomorrow.” Felix was pressed against Seungmin who in turn was pressed against Jeongin. And the three boys were in the middle of the living room, reading the batch of questions of tomorrow’s interview.
“Let’s say something stupid then,” Hyunjin suggested as he snacked on jellies, stretched out on the couch. Changbin’s jellies, to be exact. But he figured that since they kissed, he could use the older’s stuff without asking. “If I were a girl, I’d date Chan because he’s rich.”
“Okay, then I’d date Seungmin so we could be a couple of gamers,” voiced Felix as he hugged the latter with a giggle.
“And I’d date our manager because he has his driver's license and could drive me to gaming centers,” added Jeongin.
“I’d date Hyunjin to make every other girl jealous,” Seungmin said with a grin.
Hyunjin snickered, “that’s soooo stupid!”
“Why not Minho? He has strong legs. He could lift our future golden retriever and take him to our bedroom to sleep with us on the third floor of our big mansion,” Felix daydreamed. “Is that stupid enough?”
“It’s the worst thing that I’ve ever heard,” confirmed Jeongin. They all laughed.
“Next question. What’s your ideal type?” Seungmin read dully. “Ugh.”
“You don’t have an ideal type?” asked the Australian boy out of curiosity.
“Not really,” the singer shrugged. “It’s not like we have time to think about dating.”
“Right, I really don’t care about girls. I just want us to succeed.” Jeongin let out a sigh, rolling on his back, “we’re still young, we can date later.”
“You can have ideal types without wanting to date, though.” Felix put his chin on Seungmin’s shoulder, “I’d like someone charismatic who understands me and who wouldn’t mind my need of constant affection.”
“That sounds like Changbin… Or me,” remarked Seungmin with a grin. “I’m so charismatic.”
And Jeongin started to shout a romantic melody.
“Anything we say can apply to guys anyway,” mumbled Hyunjin around a jelly.
“Right,” agreed the singer. “I’d like someone who can cook, I wouldn’t want to poison us by accident if I tried.”
“That’s why we don’t let you cook,” Jeongin snickered, rolling back on his belly and looking up at Hyunjin. “Do you have an ideal type? Don’t say no, we all know you like Got7 Jinyoung.”
“Nah, he’s just a role model. I don’t want to date him.” He frowned, “I don’t look at guys and think I want to date them.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s not what I meant,” the youngest apologized.
Hyunjin smiled at him, “it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s the same for us anyway, we don’t look at girls and think we want to date them all,” started Seungmin. “What it would make us then? All predators.”
“That’s why we have to be careful once Hyunjin has a boyfriend,” said Felix with a grin.
Jeongin mimicked him and added, “yeah, what if it’s someone violent? He needs to pass the Stray Kids check in.”
Hyunjin laughed and that’s when Chan walked in the living room without a shirt on. With his hair wet, water dripped on his torso, down to his abs and lower, where his stomach was flat and firm.
He could look, right? Looking didn’t mean anything.
“What are you doing?” the leader asked, drying his hair with a towel.
“Just reading the questions from tomorrow’s interview,” Seungmin responded, pushing Felix off him and sitting up.
“Ah, anything interesting?”
“No, just the usual.”
“Alright,” Chan said before looking at Hyunjin. “I need to talk to you. C’mon.”
Hyunjin started to stress, “okay.” He straightened up as the older walked in the kitchen while putting on a t-shirt.
He locked eyes with Seungmin briefly and followed Chan in the kitchen. Inside, the leader pulled two chairs and sat on one.
“Did I do something?” Hyunjin asked, his stomach twisting in apprehension.
“No, you did nothing. It’s me, I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?”
“Because I should have been more careful around you. Like the other day, when we were watching the news.”
“You couldn’t have known,” he tried to smile but it failed. “I knew it would hurt me, I should have walked away.”
“You did walk away. Still, I’ll be more careful from now on. I don’t want to trigger you again.”
“Okay,” he said in a small voice.
Chan patted his knee and rested his hand there, squeezing. “We share our worries, that’s how we work so we can overcome whatever we face. It includes you and your feelings too.”
Hyunjin nodded.
“Even if you think what bothers you is weird or new, you can still talk to me, alright?”
“Yes.”
Chan smiled and pulled him up to a hug. Hyunjin held him tighter. The two of them didn’t really embrace each other much but it felt good the rare times it had happened.
“You’re all so nice to me,” he murmured, feeling too much at once. “I’m lucky to have met you all.”
“I’m happy that you’re with us too,” the leader said, rubbing his back.
Really, his friends were wonderful. He never had doubts about how supportive they could be, but it was all new and he had so many insecurities already. Too many to confront without a little help.
Of course, the room was dark when entered. Changbin didn’t really like lights when he was working. He was always ranting about needing silence and obscurity, because lights and noises and people were too distracting.
Hyunjin still turned one lamp on, spotting the older with one hand in his pocket standing in front of his computer screen.
His hand waved in the air as he was rapping some lines and stopped when he noticed the sudden luminosity.
“It’s only me,” Hyunjin greeted. “Am I bothering you?”
“Of course not,” Changbin responded with a slight smile. “I was almost finished anyway.”
“Really?” He smirked, “aren’t you saying that because it’s just me?”
“Uh, you’re not that special.”
“Am I not?” He pouted, walking towards Changbin to hug him from behind and rub their cheeks together.
“You’re sticky!”
Hyunjin giggled, knowing very well how sweaty he was at the moment, “what were you doing anyway?”
“Writing to a new beat,” the older replied. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Yes!” He rested his chin on Changbin’s shoulder, still holding him between his arms, as the older pressed on his keyboard and began rapping to the melody.
The lyrics were about introspection and trying not to break down in a world full of hate and violence.
“So, what do you think?”
“It’s good,” Hyunjin hummed.
“You always say that.”
“Because everything you do is good.”
And Changbin grinned, “good? Only good?”
“Jisung is better.” He stick his tongue out and fled before Changbin could try something on him, like a slight tap or tickles.
He flopped down on the small couch, “I’ve been meaning to ask…”
“Here I thought you came because you missed me,” the older said sarcastically. He was typing on his keyboard again and Hyunjin didn’t like that, because he was there and Changbin was doing something else.
Maybe he was too selfish and took the older’s time for granted because they kissed once.
Maybe Changbin changed his mind.
Or maybe he was thinking too much.
So he waited, and the rapper eventually closed his computer screen and rolled his chair closer to face him.
“I’m listening,” he said in a smile.
“Okay…” Hyunjin hugged his knees, suddenly feeling very cold. The room was chilly and all the heat from dancing too much started to cool down.
Changbin noticed so he twisted his body, leaning back to reach his sweater nonchalantly thrown on the table.
Hyunjin carefully looked at the stretch of his body; his biceps, his Adam's apple, the flat of his stomach, and his legs spread and taut by the movement.
It looked nice. Masculine and familiar and nice.
Changbin handed him his sweater, “don’t catch a cold.”
“Thanks.” Hyunjin pulled it on, noticing the smell he longed for the first time they kissed.
“So, what’s up?”
“I wanted to know, since you confessed to me… Are you attracted to boys too?” He bit his lips, afraid that the question would make the older uncomfortable.
“No, I’m not,” Changbin replied quietly, glancing down then up to lock their eyes. “It’s just you.”
Hyunjin didn’t understand, his heart started racing and he thought he did something wrong. Perhaps he contaminated him or something. That’s what he read online and that’s what they said before trying to fix people like him.
“I saw you the first time and you made things different,” the older explained.
“But... Doesn’t it bother you that I’m not a girl then?”
“No. I fell for you, for everything about you. Your body too.”
Hyunjin blushed.
“I don’t care about girls and I don’t care about the other boys. You’re all I think about.” Changbin frowned, looking away as he bit his bottom lip, “honestly, I’ve never thought I would say all those things to you.”
“I’m happy to hear them,” he shyly extended his hand towards the older who took it and sat next to him.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” demanded the older. “How come you reciprocate my feelings? That’s so weird. I never thought you would like me too.”
“Why not?” Hyunjin frowned, looks didn’t matter. Changbin made him feel safe and his heart fluttered each time they laid together, shared their worries and cuddled.
Changbin was what he liked, and that was all.
“Look at us. You’re like so perfect and, well, I’m clearly out of your league,” the older sighed. “I didn’t even know you liked boys back then. I just liked you and I never thought of dating you. That’s why I’m surprised.”
Hyunjin snuggled against him, “you have no idea how awesome and handsome you are. I don’t care about anyone else.”
“It’s still weird.” Changbin relaxed against him, “I’m not saying you’re shallow, but don’t people want to date people who look like them?”
“Yes, that’s what we’re taught,” he responded, understanding what the older meant. Society was cruel. But he didn’t want to think about those morose things happening everywhere. They made him feel really bad and sometimes, they made him want to die.
“I prefer you over everyone else,” Hyunjin stated softly. “You’re who I want.”
Changbin’s lips curled up, glancing away because he suddenly felt very shy.
“Hey, do you remember the first time I slept at your house?” The younger sat up so they were facing each other.
“Yes, why?” Truthfully, Changbin remembered all the days they slept together in the quiet of his bedroom. It was just them, with Hyunjin wearing one of his black t-shirts and watching out of the window because his own bedroom didn’t have this kind of view.
“That was the day I thought our friendship was different than the others, but I didn’t know what it was and I also knew you liked girls so I stopped… deluding myself.”
Hyunjin remembered how they sat at the windowsill and looked at the neighbors move in slow motion in the streets. He remembered how Changbin was looking at him with eyes that talked even if he didn’t understand what they meant. He remembered when Changbin told him he was pretty and that it sounded different coming from him. And then he remembered how close their faces were, and he wondered how it would feel to kiss him.
He remembered the boy scout and the trees and how curious it made him back when he was fourteen.
He remembered how magical time felt when Changbin played with his hair.
He remembered how possible everything seemed to be. And that, maybe, Changbin could be in love with him.
“I thought I wasn’t alone,” Hyunjin told skittishly. “I thought you liked me in some special way, but you didn’t know as much as me what it was. That maybe we would grow and I don’t know, face this together. I know that’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid.” Changbin leaned closer to brush their foreheads, “you’re not alone. I’ll always be with you.”
“You promise?” He knows it was childish, but it was all so new. And they were still little boys trying to make sense of all their feelings.
“I promise,” the older said as he pecked his lips. “You are so cute,” he added, touching Hyunjin’s rosy cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed him again, longer this time, taking the younger into his arms and pulling him closer.
“What are we?” Hyunjin asked when they parted.
“Nothing.” But he saw the younger’s frown so he said, “us.”
“What do we do?”
“Nothing, nothing changes.”
“You won’t turn away from me if a girl asks you out?”
“No, why would I do that?” Changbin laughed.
“Because girls are awesome and gorgeous. I know that.”
“I told you, you’re all I think about.”
“Say it again.”
“No,” the older grinned.
And Hyunjin gave him a toothy smile before leaning in to capture his lips.
Seungmin and Hyunjin were walking on the edge of the river. The stone was large enough to prevent them from falling, unless they tripped. The dawn slowly painted the sky with pinks and yellows, gilding the crown of the trees and chasing the cold air.
Hyunjin spotted a sunray bathing the grass and laid down, “I feel like it’s been a week since I haven’t seen the light.”
Seungmin lifted his head towards the sunrise. “We should be called dead idols. We’re lacking colors and vitamins,” he said, laying down next to his friend.
“We already have the look, pale and tired like ghosts. So dead.”
“You sound like a 3Racha song.”
“They’re not as dark.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah.”
They brought puddings with them to eat before heading to the dorm and sleeping for three, four hours, at most. Work didn’t wait.
“I'm taking the mango one,” Hyunjin announced as he took the dessert out of their bag. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“We don’t have spoons.”
Seungmin chuckled, “how did we forget about that?”
“We’re dead idols. We don’t have brains anymore.” He let himself fall backward.
“It’s okay. We’ll eat them at home,” said Seungmin, enjoying the sunlight.
“How are you always so positive?”
“If I’m not, then who will be?”
“Me?”
Seungmin cackled, rolling on his belly and hitting the grass with his arms and legs.
“What? I’m a positive person,” he pouted. “I just cry a lot, that’s all.”
The singer rolled back towards him, “yeah, you cried three days ago. You were supposed to sleep, but instead you got up and cried.”
“I got a message from my mom, and then… I remembered things.” He rolled on his belly as well and started toying with the grass.
“What things?”
“You know what things.”
“No, you have to tell me out loud.”
Hyunjin closed his eyes, he hated wording his thoughts. They would make everything real and he wasn’t ready for that.
“I’m not forcing you. I just think it would help,” Seungmin simply explained.
“I remembered my church ring and the bracelet and how wrong it looked next to each other. I wanted to throw them both.”
“I understand. It’s often difficult to connect the dots.”
“It is, everything is conflicting. Sometimes I want to hurt myself, and sometimes I’m like, fuck it. But it always goes back and forth and…” He couldn’t finish. His stomach twisted, thoughts racing through his mind like distraught little insects.
Every day, confusion and fear knocked on his door, wanting to get in. He still had the wicked images imprinted in the back of his eyes and their words buzzing in his head, telling him bad, wrong, dirty, impure, prohibited. Not perfect. He tried to keep the door locked, but he wasn’t strong enough so his little world would pulsate and everything would get in and that’s how he always ended up crying.
“Maybe you should start from the beginning,” suggested Seungmin, meeting his eyes and smiling. “Maybe try saying it once.”
“Say what?”
“You know what.”
“No, I don’t,” he whispered sadly. He dug his fingers in the grass, taking them out and staring at the dirt covering his skin.
“You do. Just say it. You need to hear it from yourself.”
“But it would make it real then, and I don’t want that.”
“It’s already real. Try, just once.”
He looked down, gripping the blades of grass then letting go with a sigh.
“I like boys.”