Chapter Text
Dunk’s lost track of time.
It’s been happening a lot the last few months.
Exhausted and sweaty, he wipes at his forehead, chest heaving.
They’re deep into frantic rehearsals for LOL Fan Fest, and he really can’t see how he did this whilst studying the last few years. But if he’s being honest, all the extra time he’s been dedicating to training has gotten him to a point where he doesn’t feel a kind of burning shame being on stage, surrounded by all the talented guys and girls in his company. It had been a hard push to improve himself, signing up for extra lessons, acting and singing and dancing, cramming them into every spare moment he had, a burning need to be better, do better, fuelling him each night when he fell into bed, barely able to eat before passing out.
“Good practice kids. We’re all done for today. Those people back for tomorrow’s morning session at 9am will be… Perth and Santa, Pond and Phuwin, Joong and Dunk, and Winny and Satang. The rest will be in the afternoon session at 3pm,” their choreographer P’Mix calls out over the din, clapping his hands.
Dunk groans. The idea of being back here that early when it’s well past midnight now makes him want to cry. He moves to his bag and grabs his drink bottle, chugging it, whilst flicking through his phone.
His parents want to organise another family trip to South Korea, and Dnie and her boyfriend want to cook dinner tomorrow for them all. There’s also a family reunion in the provinces this weekend, although he’s told them he’s not sure he can go-- depending on his schedule. Now their managers have given up the event booking side of things, Dunk suddenly has more schedules appearing, filling up his already packed diary, with the void school having left being taken up by everything else.
He watches the rest with interest, his gaze moving to Joong, who is standing off to the side with Pond, Phuwin and Santa. They seem to be having a conversation, and Joong seems tense. He keeps shaking his head, while Pond and Santa frown. Phuwin just watches Joong, his expression calm, and he leans against Pond, as if grounding him.
Dunk moves towards them, and Joong’s gaze snaps up to see him. There’s something on his face that Dunk doesn’t know what to do with… something sad. Joong had joined rehearsal late, coming in after a meeting with P’Tha about Jasper-related activities, Phuwin had told him. They hadn’t been able to talk, focussed on dancing and trying to hit their marks without falling over. Maybe--
“What’s going on?” Dunk asks, slinging an arm around Joong. He’s disgusting, and Joong flinches, and Dunk pats his chest, an apology, but he doesn’t remove his arm.
“Just discussing Joong’s graduation next week,” Pond says mildly to Dunk.
“Graduation?” Dunk asks, looking at Joong.
Joong is… not meeting his eyes.
Huh?
“Yeah. I finished my thesis weeks ago. Got my grades back last week, finished with a 4.0 GPA.” Joong is tense under Dunk’s arm, and Dunk feels weird as the news sinks in.
How the hell did I miss this? Have I really been that busy?
“Oh, wow. Congratulations bro. Do you want me to come with you to buy your suit?” he asks, feeling like a little tugboat buffeted by a rapidly building tsunami.
“Mae and Lena are coming with me,” Joong says with a shrug. Dunk blinks-- is Joong not even going to ask him to come? Since when does Joong not beg for me to be at everything, and with him all the time? Dunk’s mind begins to race as he tries to remember the last time Joong hadn’t been all over him to spend time together.
Pond moves forward and tugs at Dunk, pulling him off Joong, and he stumbles a little, Pond gripping him tightly to save him from faceplanting. Santa and Phuwin are uncomfortable, and Joong gazes at Dunk, but the look… the look is like he’s performing someone else’s Joong, not Dunk’s, his smile tight and surface level.
“Alright well… let’s go,” Pond says, reaching down for Dunk’s bag, pushing it into his arms.
“Joong,” Dunk starts, but Pond is pushing him out the rehearsal room, with Phuwin trailing behind.
“Pond, what’s going on? His graduation? How am I only just finding out about this and his thesis?” Dunk exclaims as they get to the elevator lobby. His chest is hurting, and not that I just worked out for hours way, but deeper, sharper… crueler.
“You’ve been busy. Maybe you just missed the email,” Pond says, and the expression Phuwin sends him makes Dunk want to stomp his foot.
“You’re playing this down. Let me go back in there,” Dunk demands.
“No. Leave it alone. Nothing will be achieved tonight. Wait until later, when you’re not exhausted and he’s not… just wait.”
Dunk glares at Pond, but the anger falls away, replaced with something that feels like shame. How did I miss this?
He opens Instagram and navigates to Joong’s page. Immediately on his grid, below his pinned posts, is a picture posted a few hours earlier with a bunch of his friends from his degree, clearly celebrating.
He clicks on it and the caption makes his stomach twist.
Finally finished, thesis handed in and grades back - 4.0GPA! One of the biggest achievements of my life. Thank you to everyone for all your support. See you at my graduation next week.
He scrolls through the comments, feeling worse and worse. Literally everyone has commented. Even Dnie.
Desperate to rectify, Dunk quickly types out a message -- so proud of you bro, can’t wait to see you and all the dungjangs at your event -- because not engaging will be getting him slaughtered on X. He rubs his chest, and Phuwin moves closer, bumping his shoulder.
“Just breathe, okay?” he murmurs, as the lift doors open. Dunk swallows, nodding, feeling a little frantic, and steps inside. Pond looks down the corridor and waves Dunk onwards.
“Ah, I forgot my bag, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.
Dunk opens his mouth, because Pond’s bag is on his shoulder, but the doors shut before he can say anything, and he’s left staring at his reflection in the polished metal, alone.
He sits in his car in the parking lot and opens LINE, scrolling to find his chat with Louis. It’s been dead for months-- the last message is from Louis telling Dunk he had graduated from his aviation degree, and Dunk offering to get him in touch with his dad, see if there’s any junior pilot roles going in his area. Dunk never responded, it seems.
“Fuck,” he chokes out, quickly typing a message to his dad, asking for the favour.
Dunk Natachai
So sorry I didn’t get back to you bro
Insane few months
I’ve let Dad know now, he’ll be in touch tomorrow
Hey, did you know Joong’s graduation is next week?
Louis’ status is green, and he immediately appears in that chat, giving Dunk’s messages hearts.
Louis
No problems bro, thanks for that
Yeah, didn’t P’Jack tell you?
It’s in the group chat, the personal milestones one
Sure enough, buried under a mountain of other unread group messages, is the GMM ARTISTS PERSONAL MILESTONES chat. And the second to last update in there is about Joong’s graduation, with fifty hearts and a bunch of thumbs ups. Dunk adds a heart and tries to swallow around the rapidly growing sick feeling deep in his gut.
He turns his car on, hands shaking, and tries his best to concentrate, while his mind is spiralling, too scared to stop at one particular memory or emotion, lest it open a floodgate Dunk can’t deal with right now.
He makes it home, can’t remember what he says to his family once he gets there, and barely makes it to his bathroom before he’s throwing up, purging the dinner he’d had hours before. “God,” he groans, flushing once he’s done and stripping his clothes off, staggering into the shower.
Sitting on the edge of his bed once he’s done, towel around his shoulders, he goes to X and starts looking at all of Joong’s recent posts. Some he’s engaged with, but there’s so many he hasn’t. He used to check his mentions all the time, Joong the first on his list.
Has he really been so busy with his family and trying to improve himself that he’s missed so much? He remembers how excited he had been once he finished his degree with all the free time and space he’d have to focus on everything else. And now…
He opens his LINE with Joong and tries to think of something, anything to say.
Dunk Natachai
Congratulations again on finishing your thesis
I’m so proud of you and excited for your graduation
I’m really sorry I’ve been so absent lately. It’s not your fault, it’s on me.
I hope you’re okay
I hope you’ve eaten
Love you bro. See you tomorrow
*
The next morning, Dunk arrives at the building well after he’s supposed to, having slept in due to tossing and turning for hours.
He’s not the kind of guy to stress, but this is stressing him majorly, and the idea that he’s been slipping on Joong is intolerable. The only reason he hasn’t texted or called further is because Pond told him not to-- and it’s clear Pond has more of an idea about Joong’s headspace than he does. He had opened his messages that morning and saw Joong had left him on read, which somehow feels infinitely worse.
So, he’s late, blames traffic in his text to P’Jack, and by the time he gets to the practise room, they’re taking a drinks break. Dunk is apologetic, P’Mix nodding and telling him to put his stuff away and get ready for the session to begin shortly. He nods, finding Joong’s bag and putting his next to it, before P’Jack sticks his head in the room and waves him over.
“I’m so sorry, Por,” Dunk begins, and P’Jack shakes his head.
“What’s going on?” he asks. Dunk throws his hands up helplessly, feeling miserable.
“I didn’t realise Joong had finished his thesis, and I missed the graduation message. I’ve been so focussed on rehearsals and all my acting and singing classes I…” he trails off, feeling tears begin to prickle.
P’Jack squeezes his shoulder, learning in. “I told everyone, and I was going to remind you directly… but Joong asked me not to unless you bought it up. He didn’t want to be another person chasing your schedule.”
Dunk moves backward, shock seeping into his body. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He knew I wasn’t paying attention. Hoping I’d remember on my own. And I didn’t.
“Nothing to do about it now, okay? Just get through rehearsal. Joong’s day is clear after this, ask him out to lunch or something. He’s upset but he loves you, if you apologise I’m sure this will be okay,” P’Jack says softly, reaching into his pocket for a tissue, dabbing at Dunk’s cheeks.
“I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up so bad,” Dunk says, trying to calm his breathing.
“Dunk, focus, okay? You go in there distracted and reckless, you're going to make things worse. You’re already late. Be professional, be good, and deal with it after, okay?” P’Jack squeezes his arms, and Dunk nods, swiping at his eyes.
P’Jack pushes him back inside, and he makes his way to his section with Joong… who says nothing. Just stares at P’Mix, hands on his hips, waiting for the music to start.
“Hey, sorry I’m late…” Dunk says, voice barely audible over the din in the background of everyone else talking. He looks at the other pairs -- laughing, joking around, Santa hanging off Perth, First and Khaotung laughing at something on a phone -- and here he is with Joong, feeling like there’s a chasm between them.
“It’s fine,” Joong says shortly, eyes on Dunk for a second before averting.
“No, it’s not fine, I--” Dunk starts, but P’Mix claps his hand and announces they’re starting from the top, now everyone is here, and Dunk wants to sink through the earth.
Joong says nothing.
Rehearsal is unbearable. Dunk hits his marks, doesn’t stumble, doesn’t trip. His hands touch Joong over and over, sliding along his skin, feeling the heat under his palms, and it’s like a physical ache.
He watches during breaks as Joong laughs with others, joking around, pinching their cheeks and dedicating his attention to them, but when he comes back to Dunk, it’s gone, all gone, back to being professional.
The jokes and stories he shares with the others about them are old, Dunk notices, stuff from last year or even earlier, stories from their time on Star In My Mind and Hidden Agenda. It feels like playback, trying to joke and play with him, not a living connection. Dunk hyper aware of the current beneath them now, and drowning in it.
By the time their rehearsal finishes, Dunk’s exhausted to the bone, coated in sweat and breathing hard, just like yesterday. P’Mix dismisses them, and Dunk heads over to his bag and grabs his towel, patting at his face. When he emerges, Joong’s bag is gone and the door is swinging shut, and Dunk’s towel falls from his fingers, nerveless.
He didn’t even say goodbye.
*
Joong posts photos once Dunk gets home and is eating dinner with his family, scrambling for his phone as it dings with the special tone he’s set up for Joong. Mae makes a face but Dunk ignores her, hyper focused on whatever’s coming.
It’s a photodump of stuff he’s taken over the last few months for his grid, and Dunk smiles, looking at the beautiful photographs Joong has taken. He’s so talented. So very wonderful. When he reaches the end, there’s a cropped picture, barely able to tell if you weren’t searching for it-- if you didn’t know what was there before. And the smile slides off Dunk’s face as he realises it was from one of their beach trips, a very old picture, one Pointer had taken of them posing in some cabana somewhere. You can just see the corner of Dunk’s sleeve, as he had been turned the other way, showing off the artwork on the back of his shirt, far enough away from Joong to be croppable, and completely erased from history.
He stares at the ceiling until his eyes burn and lets the tears come, utter misery wracking his entire body, unable to stop until his eyes hurt and his throat hurts and his chest hurts, and he curls up around his bolster and prays for relief.
But there is no relief, only the startling clarity and the pain it brings, after months of ignorance, of Joong feeling alone this very same way.
What has he done?
Has he broken them beyond repair?