Chapter Text
Beomgyu wakes up at 3pm to the sound of his phone ringing. It's an incessant beeping, shattering the last fragments of sleep. Too used to Beomgyu sleeping right through her calls, a few months ago Chaewon had forced him to change his ringtone to a jarring alarm tone that pierces through the silence of his bedroom.
When he finally succumbs to the beeping, he's completely unsurprised to see Chaewon's contact info glaring up at him. He's a little bit more surprised to see that he's managed to sleep through the entire morning and a decent way into the afternoon, but not as surprised as he once might have been. Work on his latest EP has been grueling in every way, and on the rare days off he can find, Beomgyu has begun sleeping in later and later. With a pronounced feeling of vague doom, Beomgyu answers the call.
"Hi," greets the breathless voice of his manager, Kim Chaewon, the person who is solely responsible for Beomgyu's well being and ability to function as a human being. From the tone of her voice, Beomgyu can tell she's excited. This only succeeds in making his queasy apprehension worse.
"Hi, noona," he says back, and winces at the way his dry throat protests. He should really be taking better care of his vocal chords if he wants to be fully prepared for the end-of-year tour his label has been pushing on him. He can feel Chaewon's judgment through the phone.
"Were you asleep?" she asks with barely concealed exasperation.
"Maybe," says Beomgyu, trying not to sound petulant. "You gave me the day off! For my mental health! And my mind needed sleep!"
"You were supposed to get outside, spend time with your friends, stop wallowing in self-pity and actually take a breath of fresh air for once. Rotting away in your bed isn't going to do anything good for your mind and you know it," she scolds, but it's gentle. She's seen every side of Beomgyu since becoming his manager, when they were practically still children, Chaewon the newest worker at Beomgyu's label, and Beomgyu himself the new singer-songwriter that no one could take seriously. She's been there for him when no one else has, except for maybe Kai and Soobin, when they weren't busy with their own lives and endeavors.
"I feel fine," protests Beomgyu, and he's not sure if he's trying to convince Chaewon or himself. "Why did you call?" Chaewon isn't the type of person to call on a whim, especially without any sort of prior notice. She's painstakingly meticulous and more organized than Beomgyu could ever be, even in his wildest dreams.
Beomgyu hears her take a deep breath, and his feeling of foreboding multiplies. A million doomed scenarios crowd the front of his mind. None of his anxiety is assuaged when Chaewon says, "don't hate me," before pausing again.
"What the fuck, noona," he responds. "Is the label dropping my EP or something? Did they not like the last batch of songs I sent over?"
"No! No, it's nothing like that at all! They haven't gotten back to me formally, but all the whispers I've been hearing are great. What I have to tell you is a good thing, in theory, but you have to promise me you won't freak out about it," Chaewon replies.
"I'm already freaking out. Just get it over with," Beomgyu responds.
"Promise me," says Chaewon.
"Okay, okay, I promise," says Beomgyu, and his heart sinks a little. For Chaewon to be going through so much effort to curtail Beomgyu's emotions already, whatever she has to say must be something he really won't like.
"So, I got an email this morning from a TV company, one of those up and coming ones that does mostly reality TV? They're partnering with Netflix on a celebrity dating show. And then want you to be on it," Chaewon says. The line goes silent but for the slight staticky hum of the background noise.
"Why?" is all Beomgyu can manage to ask in response.
"Honestly? I don't know. Your relationship history isn't super public, mostly rumors, but they've somehow gotten a hold of some credible information. I think they've been reaching out to a lot of celebrities who are on a similar level of popularity as you are, trying to feel them out and see if anyone agrees," Chaewon responds, her voice taking on that distinctive tone that means she's trying to be as businesslike as possible to avoid betraying her true emotions.
"What information?" asks Beomgyu slowly, with the suspicious sense that he already knows. When it comes to his 'relationship history' as Chaewon so diplomatically put it, there's only one relationship that any sort of reality TV company could possibly have an interest in.
Confirming his worst fears, Chaewon replies, "They know about you and Yeonjun. I don't know how, whether they made a guess that turned out to be right or if someone tipped them off, but they want both of you for the show," a pause, another deep breath. Beomgyu prepares himself for the blow, all while trying to suppress the wave of dizzying nausea that wracks his system at the mere mention of Choi Yeonjun. "Yeonjun's manager reached out to me this morning, saying that she got the same email, and that he's in if you are."
He's in if you are. If he didn't feel seconds away from spilling his guts all over his silk sheets, Beomgyu might have laughed. How typical of Yeonjun, to refuse to speak to Beomgyu, to Soobin, to Kai, to any of their mutual friends for years, only to turn right around and use him to gain public attention. Beomgyu hates it, hates him, suddenly burning with anger from the inside. He tries to keep his voice level as he asks Chaewon, "Do you think I should do it? Be honest."
There's a pause, as if Chaewon is measuring the weight of each word before she speaks it. "I do," she eventually replies. "I think that with your EP coming out soon an opportunity like this would be invaluable for getting your name out there. Attention is attention, no matter what form it takes, and no matter how messy things between you and Yeonjun might be,"
Beomgyu collapses back into his pillows, stifling the simultaneous urges to sob and to break out in uncontrollable giggles. "Oh, noona," he says, "messy doesn't even begin to cover it."
~~~
The camera flashes are blinding, pinpricks of light that stay drilled into his eyes even with them closed, but Yeonjun has long since gotten used to them. When he steps out of the terminal and into the airport proper, he's immediately greeted by flashes so frequent that they blend into one excruciating supernova. He's jetlagged, exhausted, hungry, and pissed off, but the past year of intense media training has a smile on his face before he even registers the muscles of his face moving. His jaw aches with how hard his teeth are clenched, and he has to fight the urge to shove a particularly excitable reporter as he battles his way to the exit and the private car that await him.
In the back of his mind is a constant refrain in Yunjin's voice- stay calm, look happy, smile and wave. You chose this life, you love it, you want it. It's easier to believe on some days, some weeks, like the past week that Yeonjun had spent in Paris, being paraded around by top designers and seated in the front row of unveilings of their newest works. Yeonjun does love this life, then, when he can be a shining star, doted on by the the fashion elite, their new golden boy.
But it's a life that's hard to love more often than it’s desirable. It's impossible to feel the joys of his upward mobility when the roar of reporters crashes discordantly against his eardrums, when the flashes of cameras that hope to catch him vulnerable make his eyes sting and the dull headache behind his temples throb. He's surrounded by bodyguards on all sides, nameless, faceless entities that he doesn't bother to get to know. They do their job well enough, throwing elbows when necessary, hands that Yeonjun yearns to squirm away from pressed against his arms on both sides, shepherding him through the chaos.
He makes it to the exit and collapses into the car, breathing hard, slamming the door behind him. The shouts and flashes have dulled, leaving phantom sights and sounds swirling in his head that he can't ever seem to dispel. The nation's it boy, the new phenom, they call him in the press, on the days they've decided to be favorable. Yeonjun wonders what they would call him if they could see him now, sunk into the plush seating of the car, knees pulled up halfway to his chest like he's a child, face buried in his arms as they rest on top of them. Every breath he takes feels sharp and rattling, needles piercing his ribs into the soft organs beneath.
He spends a few minutes breathing, the car's air conditioning humming softly, making the atmosphere cool and sterile. Yeonjun feels his lungs loosen, and he slowly uncurls his body, shaking out his limbs, sending pins and needles shooting down to his fingers and toes. He suppresses a full body shiver, and slowly raises his gaze to meet the eyes of his manager. She'd gone ahead to secure the car, but Yeonjun can tell she's regretting having left him alone by the alarm he sees in her gaze. She's always been too good to him, one constant source of guilt that Yeonjun never seems to be able to change.
Her name is Huh Yunjin, and she is two years his junior and two times the person he is, in his own estimation. They became unlikely friends in college, when Yeonjun was struggling to balance his studies and the fallout of his failed idol training and Yunjin was a freshman and far too smart for her own good. She was assigned to tutor Yeonjun, and when his decision to pursue modeling full time began to actually seem promising and he suddenly found himself knee-deep in administrative shit that he had no idea how to handle, she came to his rescue once again.
They've been working together for four years now, since Yeonjun was 22 and Yunjin was 20. She somehow balanced being his manager(and nagging younger sister figure) and her own studies, and graduated with the utmost honors and a sparkling business degree just in time for Yeonjun's career to truly hit the ground running. She stuck with him through every high and every low, every advancement and every scandal, all with unflinching determination and an unstoppable belief that everything will work out.
Yeonjun hates the way she looks at him sometimes, though, as she is right now, with a soft sort of concerned pity in the downturned corners of her lips and soft furrow of her brow. She opens her mouth to speak, but Yeonjun waves her off before she can voice her worries. "I'm fine, Yunjin-ah. Just tired," he says, and he tries to sound convincing. Based on the way Yunjin's frown twists even further, he doesn't think he's done a great job of convincing either of them.
"Okay," says Yunjin, drawing the syllables out slowly to show that Yeonjun isn't fooling anyone, least of all her. "Well, I hate to bring up more work when you're already swamped, but do you remember when I told you about that dating show? The one the TV company reached out to me about."
Yeonjun sits up a little straighter. Three days into their week in Paris, Yunjin had come knocking on his hotel door with a proposal. A new dating show, broadcasted not just to Korea but to the world at large on Netflix, an opportunity to show the personality that he's largely kept hidden from the world. A chance to turn his reputation around, should he take it. And Yunjin made it pretty clear that it was an opportunity he couldn't really afford to miss.
The one caveat was, as it somehow always was, Choi Beomgyu. Despite the intentional distance Yeonjun had put between them, Beomgyu somehow always had a way of wiggling his way back into Yeonjun's life. One of his new songs, beautiful and gut-wrenching, comes up on shuffle, Yeonjun runs into one of Beomgyu's friends, someone that he himself would have considered a friend up until a few short years ago, late at night at the convenience store, trying hard to pretend that the glares don't bother him, and now this- a dating show about celebrity exes, an opportunity for Yeonjun that he can't afford to miss out on, a step forward he can only take if Beomgyu agrees to take it with him.
When Yunjin had told him that Beomgyu needed to agree to be on the show in order for Yeonjun to appear, he had laughed in her face. He had intentionally cut Beomgyu off after their breakup(such a mundane word for such a tumultuous end. They had not broken, they had shattered, into a million fragments that could never be glued back together), and it had been years since they'd spoken to one another. Besides, Beomgyu didn't need publicity like this. His entire persona was lovable, kind hearted if slightly awkward, a musical prodigy focused on being vulnerable and sharing raw emotion. He didn't have a reputation for clubbing and smoking and fucking and being disrespectful at every opportunity. He was loved, just as he'd always been.
He'd been Yeonjun's to love once, to treasure and hold close to his heart, but now he'd been handed over to the world, and they were allowed to see his him in all his glowing loveliness, while Yeonjun remained shut in the dark, in a prison of his own making. Why should the universe allow him the chance to see Beomgyu again, after so many years, when they'd ruined each other so thoroughly the last time they ever spoke? Yeonjun had been certain that Beomgyu would never agree to do the show, and had laughed at Yunjin when she told him she would reach out to Beomgyu's management team.
He had been so certain that the love-turned-loathing that Beomgyu had for him would stop any chance of a reconciliation. He had been so certain, until now. Yunjin is waving her phone screen in front of his face, and his tired eyes fail to catch a single word of the email displayed on the screen. "Just read it to me," he says, exasperated.
Yunjin flips the screen back around. "I'll just summarize," she says. "I reached out to Choi Beomgyu's manager, Kim Chaewon, and she told me that she was hoping to get him to be on board with joining the show. She just emailed me, and said that he agreed."
Yeonjun's world pitches sideways. He's struck suddenly with the idea of seeing Beomgyu again, of being near him, of talking to him, once a distant fantasy, now so close he can taste it. He can still feel the heat of Beomgyu's glare as they argued for the last time, the last time he ever heard his name in Beomgyu's mouth. He wishes he could say it was the last time he ever heard his voice, but he's been known to listen to Beomgyu's music whenever he's feeling particularly bad about himself. How could he ever again be expected to look at that face again, those eyes that were once so full of innocence and awe, with gentle love and the reassurance that I won't ever leave you, hyung, not ever. It's us against the world. And so Yeonjun had left instead, letting all that love and adoration spoil into shock, anger, and hate.
All he can manage to say to Yunjin is a shocked, "He agreed?" He cannot for the life of him fathom why. Yunjin nods.
"Should I tell the TV company that we're in?" she asks, and there's a hint of desperation in her voice that hits Yeonjun like a punch to the gut. He forgets, sometimes, that this is truly Yunjin's job. That she is nearly as affected as he is by every dip and rise of his career. An opportunity like this, one that grants Yeonjun the opportunity to finally be viewed positively by the public, is one that she can't really afford to pass up.
"Tell them I'll do it," he says, despite the way his throat threatens to close up around the words, to stop him from damning himself before it's too late.
He can see Yunjin trying not to get too excited. "I think this is going to be really good for you," she says. The for us goes unsaid, because she would never present herself so selfishly.
Yeonjun tips his head back against the carseat and tries to imagine what seeing Beomgyu again will be like. His mind is blank, other than a vision of those eyes, once so bright, gone dark with spite. They had ruined each other so completely, he had thought, but now he's beginning to think there might be some pieces of him left to break.
~~~
Beomgyu is in the studio, playing around with the vocals for one of the tracks on his EP, when Chaewon comes barging in. Her laptop is balanced on her wrist and she has two coffees in her hands. She hands one to Beomgyu and keeps the other for herself, perching on the edge of the worn out couch.
Beomgyu pulls the headphones off and fits them down around his neck. They're a comfortable weight along his collarbones, familiar in their pressure, his armor against whatever news Chaewon is about to bring him. It's rare that she drops by unannounced like this, knowing that Beomgyu prefers to be alone while working on new music.
"So the dating show people got back to me," she begins, and Beomgyu's heart plummets. He'd been resolutely ignoring the fact that he had agreed to do the show for the past two weeks since Chaewon first proposed the idea. He'd drowned himself in music, in chords and lyrics and refrains, hoping to shut out the idea of facing Yeonjun again. And it had worked, until now. There had been radio silence from the company running the show, and Beomgyu had begun to successfully convince himself that maybe he had dreamed it.
Until now. "The working title is Rekindled Flames," she rolls her eyes, "A little cliche, in my opinion, but I digress. They want to start filming in three weeks. It's going to be at an upscale villa that they've rented out, a cross between a hotel and a lodge, almost. They want everyone to be in close proximity, to really get to know each other. As far as I can tell it's mostly going to be several rounds of dates, everyone getting to know each other and then deciding who they want to date again, and so on and so forth. Your average reality TV set up. They're probably going to take your phones and give you burners," she pauses, giving Beomgyu a moment to process before plowing ahead. "They also sent out the list of your fellow participants."
Beomgyu sits up straighter. Despite his best efforts to ignore the looming stormcloud of the show, Beomgyu is and has always been nosy, often to his detriment. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been very curious about who exactly would be joining him in the depths of hell, apparently now named Rekindled Flames.
Chaewon takes a deep breath before reading off of her laptop. "Choi Beomgyu and Choi Yeonjun, which you obviously already know. Sung Hanbin and Seok Matthew. Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix. Zhang Hao and Choi Soobin. Eight participants in all," she says.
Beomgyu's heart jolts. "Soobin's doing this, too?" he asks, shocked. "It's like a family reunion," he says sardonically, while all his limbs flood with relief. Choi Soobin, the man Beomgyu would consider to be his best friend, has remained firmly on Beomgyu's side since the day they met. Once friends with Yeonjun, too, he cut him off when Beomgyu did, and they've remained close despite their own busy schedules for years.
Chaewon nods. "I don't have any information about the other participants, other than what you can find online. Sung Hanbin is an idol choreographer, and a popular one at that. Seok Matthew is a fitness influencer. Hwang Hyunjin and Lee Felix are fashion designers and models, who had quite the public relationship and then quite the public breakup only a few months ago. Soobin is, as you know, an idol soloist. Zhang Hao is a national violinist with quite the loyal following."
Beomgyu nods. He's heard of all the participants, even if just in passing.
Despite giving up on the traditional idol life several years ago, Beomgyu still keeps up with the scene, mostly for Soobin's sake, and he's heard Sung Hanbin's name being thrown around frequently within the past year or so. An up-and-coming choreographer working for some of the biggest names in the industry. Beomgyu would be lying to say he wasn't curious to see what kind of personality was behind the choreography.
Seok Matthew is, as Chaewon mentioned, a fitness influencer. He's also a vlogger with a cheery personality and infectious smile. About once every few months, Beomgyu suddenly decides he's going to start working out regularly, and he'd tried a few of Matthew's more popular YouTube workouts before his limbs gave out on him and he had to collapse to the floor to do some deep breathing. By the way Chaewon had phrased it, it seems as though Hanbin and Matthew are a pair of exes, and Beomgyu wonders how they know each other.
Hyunjin and Felix, who come naturally as a pair in Beomgyu's mind, are pillars of the current Korean modeling industry(along with Yeonjun, Beomgyu's traitorous brain helpfully supplies). Up until recently, they were the hottest couple in the business, walking runways as a duo as well as designing and releasing their own high-end clothing. Beomgyu wouldn't consider himself particularly interested in fashion, but he had been shocked along with the rest of the country(and much of the world) when they had suddenly announced their breakup.
Zhang Hao is an interesting character, a violinist in the national orchestra, occasional model, and a frequent performer in end of year award shows when a particular group or artist wants to add some orchestral flair to their songs. He and Soobin were in the same year at their performing arts school, and had a brief relationship before Soobin's idol training took over his life and any time for relationships quickly dissipated. The breakup was amicable, and, as far as Beomgyu knows, the two are still in communication from time to time.
And finally, Choi Soobin, whose contact information Beomgyu pulls up the moment Chaewon leaves, giving Beomgyu time to stew in his tumultuous emotions. He feels slightly guilty when he notices that the last time they texted was two weeks ago, when Soobin had asked Beomgyu to come grab lunch and Beomgyu had replied with sorry, hyung. busy. He presses the call button, and brings the phone up to his ear, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground as it rings, once, twice, three times.
On the fourth ring, Beomgyu is greeted with a "Hello?" As it so often does, the sound of Soobin's voice leads Beomgyu's shoulders to relax ever so slightly, the tension slowly bleeding out of him. There's a reason that Soobin has always been the first person Beomgyu calls in any sort of crisis, seeing as he's been gifted with the unique ability to soothe Beomgyu like nobody else has never been able to(there was somebody else, once, who held Beomgyu while he cried, who brushed soft lips over his temple, who ran soft hands over his hair, who kissed his worries away until they didn't seem so significant, but Beomgyu can't let himself think about it without breaking down completely).
"Hi, hyung, it's Beomgyu," says Beomgyu, rather uselessly. He can sense Soobin's eye roll immediately.
"Hi, Gyu-yah. I was wondering when I'd be hearing from you," Soobin replies. "I'm guessing Chaewon told you the big news?"
Beomgyu exhales slowly, tipping his head back until his chair threatens to spill him backwards onto the floor. "She did. What made you decide to sign up for a dating show, Mr. Bigshot? It's not like you need any more publicity. I was at your last concert, I saw just how many people are falling over their feet for you." He tries to keep the jealousy out of his voice, because it's a tense subject between them – Soobin's success as a solo idol under one of the biggest names in Kpop relative to Beomgyu's smaller(but very dedicated) fanbase.
Soobin grants him a half-hearted sigh of a laugh before he says, "Honestly? Hao texted me, saying that he was onboard to do it if me and my company were, and I kind of thought it sounded like fun. I don't get to do content with big groups of people like this all that often, and it sounded like a nice change of pace. I've been single for a while, I just finished promotions and my tour so I'm not as busy as I've been in the past, maybe it'll be a good opportunity."
Beomgyu snorts. "Everyone knows that these shows are fake, hyung. I don't think anyone actually ends up in a successful relationship because of them."
"Well, who knows!" says Soobin, immediately defensive. Beomgyu takes great pride in the fact that nobody can rile him up as quickly as he can. "To be honest though, Gyu, if I had known that you and Yeonjun would be on the show, I probably wouldn't have said yes."
Beomgyu starts, leaning forward so fast that his chair nearly goes rolling out from under him. "Why? Do you not think I can handle myself?"
Soobin sighs. "It's not that, and you know it. I think you're plenty capable of handling yourself, and so is Yeonjun, which is the problem. There's so much shit you guys never resolved, and I can only dream of what it'll be like when you're in the same room again. I closed that chapter of my life a long time ago, but I don't think either of you ever stopped living in it."
Beomgyu feels his face grow hot. He's moved on, even if Soobin doesn't seem to think so. He's an adult, and even though the thought of Yeonjun makes him want to punch something, he doesn't think he's still hung up on him. That would be pathetic, and ridiculous. Soobin is just being stupid, as usual, and Beomgyu tells him so.
"Take it out on me if you want to, but I'd suggest you do some real soul searching before you see him again. Maybe take up anger management. Because based on the way the two of you looked at each other the last time I saw you together, I think there's a chance you might kill each other before the show is done."
"That's a little dramatic," says Beomgyu, but if he's being completely honest with himself(as he so rarely allows himself to be), he's not entirely sure Soobin is too far off. The last time he saw Yeonjun he was freshly 19, full of emotions too big for his body and a love that felt too overwhelming for words. That sort of all-consuming adoration turns too quickly into hatred that can so easily be sparked into violence or anger.
"I don't know," says Soobin softly. "You didn't see yourself, Beomgyu. The shit that you two did to each other isn't something that you can get over with time and silence. I always knew there would be some kind of reckoning, but I didn't want to believe it until now."
"I'm over it, hyung," says Beomgyu, not caring that it comes out as more of a whine than a confident declaration. "He doesn't own me anymore, and he never truly did. He thought I was his without ever calling me his boyfriend even once. We fought more than we ever got along. There's nothing salvageable there."
"I saw you fight constantly. I held both of you as you cried, got in the middle of your shouting more than a few times. I saw firsthand the ruins he left behind for me and Kai to pick up. I'm not saying you should be trying to salvage anything, I'm just saying to be careful," Soobin replies, chiding but kind, as always.
It's moments like these when Beomgyu remembers that Soobin was the company's pick for leader. Yeonjun was too volatile, too focused on becoming a star to look out for those he left in the wreckage of his glittering destruction. Wooyoung was too new, following Yeonjun around like a lost puppy, already looking forward to bigger and better things the second he walked in the door. Kai was too young, and too gentle, everyone's baby. And Beomgyu was too scared and too lonely, tripping over his own feet any time he tried to dance, scribbling song lyrics in his free time and hoping that love would be enough to save him. So in the end, it was Soobin, their gentle giant, who had to lead them, and then had to watch them leave one-by-one as everything he built slowly fell apart.
Beomgyu feels a wave of nauseating nostalgia crash over him. He can almost smell the dampness of the practice room, can taste sweat in the air. He can feel the ghost of Yeonjun's hands at his waist, against his jaw, draped over his shoulders,and he shivers at their phantom touch. Soobin's words wash over his consciousness, and something sticks like a needle. "He cried over me?" The question is out before Beomgyu even registers it, and he winces at how pathetic it sounds, all these years later. It's been five years, but Beomgyu still sometimes sees Yeonjun in his dreams.
"Oh, Gyu-yah," Soobin sighs. "He cried every day."
"Oh," says Beomgyu, pressing a hand against his ribcage where he feels it slowly cracking. "I never knew that."
"He hid it from you. He wanted to look confident in front of you, thinking that if he didn't show any sort of emotion you'd take it better. A stupid fucking idea, if you ask me, but that's Yeonjun-hyung for you. Always a little too confident for his own good."
Beomgyu can't believe that they're having this conversation. Soobin has always been so, so careful to dance around any mention of Yeonjun, and to hear his name on Soobin's lips again now hits Beomgyu's ears in a discordant clash. He tries to think of some way to change the topic, some way to move the conversation away from old wounds, ones that are beginning to slowly drip blood from what he thought were long-healed scars.
Luckily, Soobin knows Beomgyu better than he knows himself, and says, "Listen, we shouldn't bring all this up. When we have the first shooting for the show, I promise I won't leave your side. I'll be a human shield for you. I did it whenever you used to fight back then, I should have no problem doing it now." Beomgyu feels guilt crawl over his skin. He forgets, sometimes, that Soobin, Kai, and Wooyoung were casualties in the warfare between him and Yeonjun, that it wasn't some hellscape that he traversed alone, but rather one that he carried with him, inflicting it on his fellow trainees without a single thought for their wellbeing. He would apologize for it, if he wasn't so desperate for a change of topic.
"What's the first shooting again?" Beomgyu asks. "Chaewon told me, I'm sure, but I wasn't exactly paying complete attention."
"It's a photoshoot, for promotional materials, two weeks from now. They're saying it won't be filmed for the show, but I have a feeling they'll be on the lookout for places to stir up drama anyway," Soobin replies.
"It's not fair that you have all your professional idol PR training. All I have under my belt is a couple of interviews and some YouTube vlogs," Beomgyu complains.
Soobin laughs softly. "When in doubt, shut the fuck up. It's better for them to think you're shy and maybe a little awkward than aggressive or confrontational. I'll try and stick by you as much as possible, to make sure you don't say anything completely ruinous."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, hyung," says Beomgyu, sarcasm dripping from every word.
Soobin laughs again, but it sounds strained. "It'll be fine, Gyu-yah, I'll make sure of it," he says, "It's just a photoshoot, how bad could it really be?"
~~~
Yeonjun is no stranger to photoshoots. While much of his recent work has been runway modeling, fashion weeks and schmoozing with the elites, he still feels at home amongst blinding lights and shutter clicks. The studio where Rekindled Flames is holding their photoshoot looks like any number of studios Yeonjun has been in over the years, a giant warehouse-esque space draped in white cloth, the floor coated in tangled cords that Yeonjun deftly maneuvers his way around, Yunjin at his side.
The show's producers had requested that only the participants and their closest management come to the shoot, to avoid overcrowding the space, so today it was Yeonjun and Yunjin against the world, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. They hadn't had any idea what to expect, so they'd showed up about a half an hour before their call time. As far as Yeonjun can tell, he's the first contestant here, which brings him some small relief, as much as he can feel given the circumstances. When Yunjin had briefed him on the participants a few weeks ago he had been bowled over to hear that Choi Soobin was on the list. The thought of seeing Beomgyu in person was bad enough, but the thought of seeing Soobin, his loyal guard dog, was potentially even worse.
They had been the best of friends, before everything went to shit, and sometimes Yeonjun pulls up Soobin's contact on his phone and wonders if he's been forgiven. He never calls though, and he had been living under the assumption that he would never have to see Soobin in person again. What a comfortable assumption that was, and how awful it is to have it shattered.
There's a flurry of motion near the entryway, and Yeonjun turns to spot Hwang Hyunjin coming through the door, a few of his company's employees on his heels. Yeonjun gives him a small wave, happy to see a friendly face. He had crossed paths with Hyunjin and his ex-boyfriend, Felix, many times before. They were considered the top of Korea's new breed of up-and-coming models, and Yeonjun liked both of them immensely. Unfortunately, he didn't know them well enough to get any sort of insider information on their breakup. He wonders how much they'll share once the cameras are shooting.
Hyunjin comes over and greets Yeonjun with a quick hug, Yunjin taking a step backwards, giving them time to get reacquainted. "Yeonjun-hyung!" he exclaims, with a wide grin that Yeonjun tries his very best to mirror despite the perpetual roiling in his stomach. "I feel like it's been forever. The last time I saw you was what, the Dior show?"
Yeonjun tries to rake through the tangles of his memory. The Dior show comes back to him in flashes- too many people eager to shake his hand, too many glasses of sparkling champagne thrown down his throat, too much noise, too much attention. If he thinks about it hard enough, Hyunjin's disembodied face floats through the blurred crowd. "I think so," Yeonjun responds. "It's good to see you." He thinks he means it. Hyunjin is kind, and genuine, something that can be difficult to find in their industry. Yeonjun has learned that it's important to keep the people you actually like close to you, so you don't risk surrounding yourself with vipers ready to strike at any sign of weakness.
"It's good to see you too! Even if it is under these bizarre circumstances," Hyunjin replies with a breathy laugh. "I honestly thought it was a joke when my team forwarded me the email. But they thought it might be a fun way to break me out of my shell and appeal myself to a broader audience." He pauses, growing slightly more somber. "And Felix was down for it, so how could I say no?"
There's something akin to heartbreak in the soft tones of Hyunjin's voice, and Yeonjun feels his ribs tighten. Is this how he talks about Beomgyu, even all these years later? He hopes not, or else the show's producers will be on him in seconds. Yeonjun scans the room for said producers before he softly asks, "What happened between you two? I don't mean to pry, but it always seemed to me like you two were the perfect couple."
Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair. "We were, until we weren't. We got too caught up in our work, too focused on our separate lives, and I think we spent so much time playing our relationship up for the public that we forgot what it meant to us. We gave up on it, and on each other. We went on a break, to give each other some space to really figure out how we felt, and we just never really managed to put our relationship back together. And I know it seems silly that we would join such a public show in the hopes of salvaging some fragment of what we once had, but I think it's time for us to be honest with the world, and with each other."
"You still love him," says Yeonjun. An observation, not a question.
Hyunjin nods. "I think it would be impossible for me not to. This show is our final opportunity to rekindle, if we want to use the show's terminology, any spark of what used to be between us. I'm not ready to give up on that, and I would hope that Felix isn't either."
"How romantic of you," teases Yeonjun gently, fidgeting from foot to foot, suddenly feeling like the space is too open, too revealing, the walls too capable of capturing Yeonjun's every flaw and catapulting them back at him.
Hyunjin smiles. "What's your story, hyung? I don't ever remember seeing any news of you dating anyone."
Yeonjun exhales a long, slow breath. "It wouldn't have been news, at the time. The producers of this show managed to find out about an old relationship of mine, one that didn't end nearly as neatly or amicably as yours did."
"Ah," says Hyunjin softly. "So no hopes of a rekindled flame for you, then?"
Yeonjun laughs. "Not unless the flames you're talking about are the fires of Hell, Hyunjin-ah. We were practically children when we were together, too full of emotions for our own good, always yelling at each other and stepping on each other's toes. We fucked each other up, and we haven't spoken since. I don't think there's anything left of us to salvage."
Hyunjin opens his mouth to reply, a concerned furrow on his brow, but before he can respond, the entrance slams closed, and Choi Beomgyu walks in the door.
Yeonjun's breath leaves him in a rush. His chest constricts, crushing his lungs until he's gasping for air. Beomgyu was always beautiful, when they were together, but time has only sharpened his features, making him even more stunning, His hair, dyed a soft auburn, curls just past his ears over the nape of his neck, and Yeonjun has a phantom urge to reach out and run his fingers through it. His eyes, still so big and full of light, are sweeping over the room, and they come stuttering to a halt when they meet Yeonjun's own.
There's a beat of eye contact, charged with five years worth of unresolved emotion. Yeonjun feels sick to his stomach when he sees unadulterated hatred dripping from Beomgyu's gaze. Part of him had hoped, foolishly, that the time stretching between them would have mended some of their old wounds, and he sees now just how naive that was. The loathing radiating off of Beomgyu in waves is the exact same emotion he showed five years ago, the last time they ever spoke. Yeonjun feels his face heat, and he can't seem to tear his eyes away.
He was never able to resist Beomgyu, and it seems as though time has only made the pull even stronger. He sways forward on his feet and before he realizes what he's doing, he's taking a half step in Beomgyu's direction. Beomgyu's eyes widen a fraction, full of sudden fear, and he turns on his heel, whispering frantically to the person at his side, a woman with a sleek bob and a piercing stare that Yeonjun doesn't recognize.
Without the heat of Beomgyu's gaze, Yeonjun suddenly feels cold, as if a bucket of ice has been poured over him. He suppresses the urge to shudder at the feeling. He slowly becomes re-aware of his surroundings, and of Hyunjin at his side, who's giving him an alarmed look. It's always frightening for people, Yeonjun has discovered, the first time they see beyond the golden boy persona to the ugly creature of unbridled emotion beneath. "I'm guessing that's your ex," he says with a grimace.
"Mhm," hums Yeonjun in reply. "I wasn't kidding when we said our breakup was messy." He tries to make it sound lighthearted, but it more so comes off as sad. Yeonjun has never claimed to be perfect, or even to be a good person, but there is a soft-hearted part of him that never truly got over feeling guilty for how he treated Beomgyu in the final days of their relationship.
"I can definitely feel the unresolved tension," says Hyunjin with a small snort. "That'll be fun for the audiences to watch."
Yeonjun winces. He can already feel the gazes of the producers boring through his back, desperate for any sort of drama, even before the show begins in earnest. If Hyunjin could pick up on all the shit that lies between him and Beomgyu, he's positive the producers could too. Yeonjun chances one more glance across the room, and his stomach flips when he sees that Beomgyu and the woman Yeonjun assumes to be his manager are no longer alone.
With them is Choi Soobin, top idol soloist, and Yeonjun's former best friend. Two years together in the training room, two years of blood, sweat, and tears, endured together, gone in moments, all because he took Beomgyu's side, dragging Kai along with him. He'd let Yeonjun walk out the company doors forever without a word, and Yeonjun is surprised to find that he can still find it in him to hate Soobin for it. Yes, Yeonjun had taken Wooyoung with him, had kept one of their fellow trainees for himself. But Wooyoung hadn't been there for long at all before everything went sideways, hadn't been there to form the type of bond that existed between Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Kai. Yeonjun had mourned more relationships than his romantic one once everything fell apart.
There had been a time where Yeonjun would catapult himself into Soobin's arms whenever he entered a room. He had draped himself over Soobin, had taken solace in the consistent stability of his arms. Now, Soobin's gaze is ice where Beomgyu's was fire. His expression is set in stone, betraying no emotion as he looks Yeonjun's way for mere seconds, and then turns back to whatever conversation he's having with Beomgyu. Yeonjun wishes there had been some spark of emotion, some sort of anger, reflected in Soobin's eyes, instead of that cold impassivity. It is better to imagine that Soobin thinks of him with loathing rather than never thinking of him at all.
A gentle hand at his shoulder shakes Yeonjun out of his stupor. Hyunjin. "I'm guessing you know him, too?" he asks, one eyebrow raised.
"We trained together, to be idols. Me, Beomgyu, and Soobin. Soobin is the only one who actually did it," Yeonjun replies. It feels so cold, to put it in so few words. It feels like doing a disservice to the bond that once existed between them, those years of shared torment.
"I see," says Hyunjin. "Well, you're definitely bringing the drama the producers want, hyung. And here I was thinking that Felix and I might actually get a lot of screentime." He turns towards the door as he says it, where Yeonjun can see the last few participants slowly moving into the room at large, Felix included. Hyunjin's entire countenance softens when he sees him, and Yeonjun finds himself praying for and believing in romance for the first time in a long while.
Hyunjin excuses himself with a hasty apology and practically races across the floor to Felix's side. Yeonjun would find it somewhat desperate if he didn't ache for the same sort of love he sees in Hyunjin's attempts to make Felix turn his sunny smile in his direction. Beomgyu used to smile at him like that, with complete trust, like he held the world in his hands.
Before Yeonjun's thoughts can turn to how cruelly he shattered that trust, Yunjin is tapping him on the shoulder. "Time to get ready to shoot," she says. "You're up first."
Yeonjun rolls his shoulders back, shaking out any visible tension. This is his element, he reminds himself. He could do photoshoots in his sleep, and practically has, when he's jetlagged out of his mind, or, in his more rebellious days, extremely hungover.
And if there was ever a time where Yeonjun needed to tap into that well of confidence that only seemed to appear when he was working, it would be now, with Beomgyu and Soobin’s attention still hovering over him, pressing down on his limbs, making him feel made of stone.
He moves on autopilot over to where a group of photographers are hovering around cameras, lights, and monitors. The familiarity of it all soothes the pounding of his heart ever so slightly, and he puts on a false smile that makes his jaw hurt as he introduces himself. The director of the shoot, who seems vaguely familiar to Yeonjun from one magazine shoot or another, explains that today is mostly for the purpose of introducing the audience to the participants, those who they may not be familiar with.
Yeonjun is dressed somewhat casually, in a button down shirt that's open to reveal just enough collarbone to be tantalizing, paired with oversized denim shorts that fall just below his knees and a pair of Doc Martens, socks peeking out over the tops. It's a look he's done a million times before, a sort of classed-up everyday feel, paired with a gaze that invites the viewer in, making them think that they might have some idea of what Yeonjun is thinking.
He poses on auto pilot, with a faint grin. He's supposed to look like he's rekindling some sort of affection, after all, and Yeonjun resolutely tries not to think about the fact that Beomgyu, standing in the corner of the room with Soobin, can see all this. Whatever emotion used to be between them, the sort of peaceful contentment he's supposed to be portraying in the photos was never a part of it. Every emotion they shared was always too intense, ricocheting from adoration to loathing in seconds. But the audience wants Yeonjun to look smitten, so he gives them smitten with everything he has. He lets his eyes glaze slightly as the corners of his lips turn up just so, and he hears an appreciative hum from the director.
"That's good, Yeonjun-ssi," she says. "I think we have everything we need for now. Go relax, talk to your fellow participants, get some food if you'd like, we'll be taking duo and group shots after all the individual ones are completed."
Yeonjun's blood freezes. Duo shots can only mean one thing – that he's going to have to pose with Beomgyu, with his 'rekindled flame', and pretend that there is any hope of reconciliation between them. He's likely going to have to place a hand on his shoulder, at his waist, and look him in the eyes and pretend that it won't kill him. He can see Yunjin shooting him a concerned look as he stumbles away from the cameras, nearly tripping over one of the lights as he moves away.
"Did you know?" he asks her once they're out of earshot of the producers. "Did you know they'd make me take photos with him?"
Yunjin shakes her head, and Yeonjun hates the pity he sees in her face. "They didn't tell us anything other than that it would be a promotional photoshoot, to introduce audiences to the show's participants. I had no idea that they would be revealing the former couples before the show even began."
"I don't think I can do it," whispers Yeonjun. "I can't even look him in the eye, let alone act professional enough to take photos with him. Everyone is going to know that we hate each other before the cameras even start rolling."
Yunjin lets out a soft sigh. "I think you don't give yourself enough credit," she replies. "I've heard you say that you couldn't do something a million times before, and every time you rise to the challenge. I know that I became your manager after whatever history you have with Beomgyu had already run its course, but I think you're strong enough to get over this, at least for now. You agreed to do the show knowing that you would have to interact with him. This is just the beginning of that inevitability," she says.
Yeonjun had known, in the abstract sense, that he would have to face Beomgyu, that he would have to interact with him and talk to him without ripping his heart out of his chest. But the reality of it hadn't hit him until this moment, when a true reunion with Beomgyu is about two hours away. If he turns to the center of the room, he can see Beomgyu getting ready for his own photos. His breath hitches.
Beomgyu's beauty hits him like a freight train to the stomach. He's dressed softly, in a sweater that falls over his hands and a pair of shorts not unlike Yeonjun's own. He’s posing with a guitar, lovingly strumming the strings as he waits for the shoot to begin. He looks so heartbreakingly lovely, soft and angelic in the bright light, and Yeonjun's arms ache with the sudden desire to envelop him in an embrace. He knows that Beomgyu is no longer his to hold, but his body is yet to catch up to his brain, and deep inside of him there is some feral, neglected creature that is screaming at him to run across the room and sweep Beomgyu off of his feet.
Instead, he stands there, Yunjin and the entire rest of his surroundings fading away as he watches Beomgyu pose for the cameras. He's clearly inexperienced, shyly ducking his head whenever he receives a compliment, his curtain of auburn hair falling in front of his face. Yeonjun yearns to tuck it softly behind his ears. Once he begins to pose with more confidence, he becomes alluring, a hint of a smile on his face, his eyes sparkling as if daring someone to get a little closer, to fall into his orbit and be tugged along, helpless. Yeonjun is disarmed completely by him, left swaying on his heels in an attempt to resist the magnetic pull of the man he once considered to be the love of his life.
Yeonjun had thought that the biggest problem with seeing Beomgyu again would be keeping his anger at bay in front of the cameras. Now, he realizes he has a different problem entirely. While he had been convincing himself for years that there was no love lost between him and Beomgyu, he had forgotten the way Beomgyu could hold him completely enraptured as nobody else ever could. He wonders, not for the first time, how he ever had the strength to leave him.
Yeonjun isn't sure how long he stands there, drinking in Beomgyu's presence like he needs it to breathe. Yunjin leaves his side at one point, and Yeonjun notices with a jolt that she's talking to Beomgyu's manager, the woman with the bob. He supposes they might be commiserating about how exactly they're supposed to get Beomgyu and Yeonjun to be able to present themselves positively to the cameras when they won't even speak to one another. When Beomgyu finishes his photoshoot, Yeonjun quickly moves away to where an array of food has been left out for them, picking at a few different dishes, despite his lack of appetite.
Beomgyu's image seems to be burned behind his eyelids, sending sparks down his spine whenever he closes his eyes. How naive he had been, to think that he could remain so unaffected. He had truly thought he would be able to conquer his emotions, to look past what had happened years ago and keep his gaze fixed on the future. He should have known better.
If he looks deep enough within himself, there’s a part of him that’s always known. A part of him that knows that no matter how hard you try to forget such a powerful love, it will always come back to haunt you. And he certainly feels haunted. Beomgyu's presence mere feet away is more terrifying than any ghost or phantom, but Yeonjun is too enraptured to move any further from him.
He catches Soobin giving him sideways, unreadable glances every once and a while, and he feels distinctly like he's being assessed, as if Soobin is trying to figure out just how much of a threat Yeonjun is to Beomgyu's peace of mind. If only he knew just how much havoc Beomgyu is wreaking on his psyche. He half-watches the rest of the photoshoots, taking small bites of whatever food he had put on his plate in a Beomgyu-induced daze.
The individual shoots finish with Zhang Hao, who poses with a violin and holds himself like a prince. The producers tell them to take a short break, and then they'll start the duo shoots, finishing with a group shot of the entire cast. Foreboding fills Yeonjun from head to toe, a sense of doom so profound that he trembles with it. He sees Yunjin shoot him a concerned glance, now back at his side.
"Are you going to be okay with the duo shoot?" she asks. "I know I was pushing for it earlier, but I can tell them you're not comfortable with it if you really want me to."
It's a tempting offer, but not one Yeonjun can even consider taking her up on. The producers are like sharks on the hunt for blood, milling around and shamelessly eavesdropping on conversations for any hint of drama that they can use for entertainment. Yeonjun is positive that they would be absolutely delighted if he tapped out of the duo shoot, because then they'd be able to paint him as some sort of villain once the show aired. And Yeonjun is so very tired of being the villain of the media.
So he shakes his head at Yunjin, who looks relieved, always willing to go to battle for him, but always conscious of his image even more so. "If it makes you feel better," she says, "I was talking with Beomgyu-ssi's manager for a minute, and he's no more enthused about this as you are. I think both of you are having equally devastating freakouts."
"That doesn't make me feel better in the slightest," says Yeonjun dryly, but his heart leaps. If Beomgyu is also having complicated feelings about the shoot, that means he still has complicated feelings about Yeonjun in general. Sure, it could just be pure hatred that he's held on to for all these years, but it could also mean something more. But Yeonjun has never been an optimist, and when the directors call him and Beomgyu over, all he feels is intense dread, until he looks Beomgyu in the eye.
They're much closer now than they were when they caught each other's gaze from across the room. This closely, Yeonjun can see the little flecks in Beomgyu's eyes, and can watch as his pupils tremble as they try and fail to focus. He hears Beomgyu's breath hitch, and his heart jumps into freefall.
The voice of the director from behind them, asking them to move over into the reach of the cameras, makes them both flinch, and Beomgyu nearly goes sprawling backwards as he trips over a cord from one of the lights. Without thinking, Yeonjun reaches out a hand to steady him, his palm splaying against the small of Beomgyu's back. Beomgyu's eyes snap to him, wide and affronted, and he draws back as if he's been burned.
Then, he seems to remember the presence of the show's producers around them, and says a quick "thank you," his eyes focused on his feet. They're the first words he's spoken directed at Yeonjun since their last fight five years ago, and Yeonjun feels his eyes prick with tears at that familiar voice, even as cold and detached as it sounds now, where it used to be so full of warmth and love.
They move without speaking into the set of the shoot, which is mostly bare except for a dark velvet couch and a small table, on which sit two flickering candles(flames, presumably rekindled ones). They start at opposite ends of the couch, Yeonjun attempting to pose languidly in the way he's become used to, one leg extended in front of the other, head tilted to expose his neck in a way he knows is tantalizing. It's second nature at this point, and he has to fight a smile that he fears would look besotted when he sees Beomgyu at the other end, hands folded over each other neatly on top of his knees, looking like a deer in headlights.
"Get closer, please," says the director. "Yeonjun-ssi, put your arm on the back of the couch, Beomgyu-ssi lean into it. Act like you like each other." It's said as a joke, but Yeonjun can see Beomgyu stiffen out of the corner of his eye. He takes a deep breath in, and moves towards the middle of the couch, placing his arm over the back of it. Slowly, Beomgyu leans back, resting his head ever so gently against Yeonjun's arm.
"Relax," says Yeonjun softly. The faster they make it look natural, the faster they can go back to hating each other in peace. Beomgyu rolls his shoulders back once, and then leans back to look Yeonjun in the eyes. His eyelids are half-lowered, and he looks almost sultry, a ghost of a smile on his lips that could be either tempting or adoring. Yeonjun has visions of the old Beomgyu, the one who used to tease praise and kisses out of him like they were currency with a simple glance, one not unlike the way he's looking at Yeonjun now.
Yeonjun loses control over his facial expressions, and the studio falls away as he drowns himself in Beomgyu's eyes. Logically, he knows that what he finds in their depths is fake, an act for the many cameras surrounding them, but he can't bring himself to not pretend, for at least a moment, that there is some hope that Beomgyu might find real joy in his presence.
The director's voice pierces through their bubble, asking them to reach out and grab the candles on the table. Beomgyu immediately pulls away, and Yeonjun mourns his closeness. He hears a camera shutter click as he watches Beomgyu lean forward to grab the candles from the table, and he knows immediately that whatever expression was on his face was much too fond.
Beomgyu hands him a candle, and he murmurs a soft thanks. They turn to face each other at the director's orders, the candles held between them, their gazes locked. There's a fragile sort of peace between them that Yeonjun hadn't anticipated, and he feels himself dreading the moment it shatters, hoping that they can stay like this forever, two souls intertwined.
Unfortunately, the shoot comes to an end, the director showering them with praise. Beomgyu stands abruptly, and races off to where Soobin is standing with a concerned look on his face. Yeonjun sees him reach out and place a steadying hand on Beomgyu's shoulder, and he has to turn away before a sudden burst of nausea threatens to overwhelm him.
He knows he has no right to Beomgyu, to his space, his being. He lost that right years ago when he walked away without a backwards glance, but there is still a physical ache deep in his core to see him so comfortable with Soobin, his head tilted back as he laughs unabashedly, the pure notes of joy ringing out amidst the dim chatter of the room.
That joy is both so familiar and unfamiliar to Yeonjun, the sounds the same as they always were, when someone would make Beomgyu smile at the end of an exhausting day of practice where he just couldn't quite find his footing. But Beomgyu's face is now foreign, changed in so many little ways in five years. Yeonjun didn't know that time could change someone so completely, and he wonders what destruction time has wrought upon his own face. Could Beomgyu look at him and recognize even some small part of who he used to be?
Yeonjun can't remember the last time he laughed like that, like the world was beautiful and full of wonder. If he were to attempt to make some expression of joy, he's sure it would come out convoluted. He was never as pure as Beomgyu, whose emotions spiraled from the highest highs to the lowest lows without a care. He always hid some part of himself, sheltering his true feelings so deeply within him that he wasn't sure he ever understood them.
He remembers Beomgyu, lying in the crook of his shoulder one night, so late it had probably already turned to morning, telling him in that soft and vulnerable voice that only Yeonjun could ever draw out of him, "Sometimes I look at you and you're a stranger to me, hyung. Sometimes I think I know you better than anybody, and other days it's like I don't know you at all." The mere memory is enough to make Yeonjun's heart constrict.
"I'll tell you a secret, Beomie-ah," he had said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Beomgyu's hair, making him shyly preen. He had always liked holding Yeonjun's secrets, being a confidante for his hyung who was always so steady, so confident, the legendary trainee. "I don't think I even know myself," Yeonjun had whispered, still burying his face in the crown of Beomgyu's head, unwilling to look him in the eyes. "I think I've internalized so much of what other people say about me that I've just become their expectations. I don't know how to live as myself anymore, without anyone else's input."
Beomgyu had gently coaxed Yeonjun away to look at him, drawing him down until they were at eye level. "Here's another secret of mine," he had said, pressing a soft kiss to Yeonjun's forehead. Yeonjun's body had protested, still so unused to being gently cared for. "I don't intend to ever leave you alone like that. It's you and me against the world, my love, and I intend to keep it that way."
And Yeonjun had let himself cry, a luxury he cannot now afford, in this too-bright room surrounded by faces he thought he'd never see again. Yeonjun drifts like a phantom through the group shoot, unable to keep his eyes away from Beomgyu for longer than a few moments at a time, despite the knife in his ribs that twists ever deeper as Beomgyu leans into Soobin, trading jokes with him the entire time, never once looking Yeonjun's way.
Yeonjun leaves the shoot in a daze, sparing Hyunjin and Felix a quick goodbye before stumbling into the car, his legs threatening to give out from underneath him. Memory threatens to overwhelm him, and he wonders how those promises and intentions, to never be separated, built on trust, love, and the naivety of youth, had gone so disastrously wrong.