29. Miyong’s Friend

TWENTY-NINE

Although Charis is downfor the night with some kind of stomach bug, he doesn't let that keep him down. He's at rehearsal bright and early the next morning, and if his stomach is still bothering him, he doesn't show it.

Mouse fixes him with a critical eye, but even he can't see through Charis' frosty, perfectly smooth exterior. It's honestly pretty funny to watch from the outside, at least for their other members.

Mouse and Charis might not see a difference in the way they're acting, but it's kind of funny to watch Mouse buzzing around Charis like a nursemaid. Whenever there's a bit of downtime, he's there to shove a thermos of hot honey water into Charis' hand.

Charis takes it with good grace at first. Honestly, he might still be kind of out of it because he seems to just be drinking whatever is handed to him—like he's too out of it to fully register what's going on. Although that might be a consequence of the early morning as much as any illness. None of them are really morning people, except maybe Joon, who might as well be a freak of nature.

"It's too sweet," Charis huffs the third or fourth time it happens.

Of course he's noticed that Mouse keeps shoving a thermos toward him. It's black on the outside with thin plaid checkerboard stripes in festive Christmas colors. And really, there's so much honey in the ginger tea Mouse keeps handing him.

"Ah… I was… worried it would be too spicy," Mouse says, scratching at his temple with the side of the thermos.

He feels sheepish and embarrassed. He's going to go pour it out and stop making Pocky drink it. He didn't mean to fuck up when he was trying to help.

"…I changed my mind," Charis says immediately once he sees the look on Mouse's face.

"Huh?"

Mouse watches dumbfounded as Charis plucks the thermos from him and pops open the lid with one hand. He takes several long, deep swallows of the—frankly horrifyingly sweet—liquid. It isn't making him feel worse.

And, actually, overwhelming sweetness aside, it is making Charis' still weak and unsettled stomach feel better. He doesn't know where Mouse even got ginger tea from.

"It's fine," Charis says seriously. "Really."

Everyone knows that Charis doesn't like sweets. He always skips the desserts without any trouble, which Miyong finds drastically unfair. When Miyong has to watch his weight, it's like torture to avoid the jellies, cookies, and ice creams he likes.

"What?" Charis asks, wiping his mouth as he looks at the rest of his members staring at them with dumbfounded looks on their faces.

"Nothing," Kiki says quickly.

"Not a thing," Joon agrees.

Weird. People are acting weird.

And Soohyun still hasn't gotten a chance to talk to Charis.

The rehearsal ends, and Mouse absconds with Charis, and Soohyun doesn't feel resentful?—

Maybe just a little exasperated. Everyone clears out really quick, leaving him behind in the empty dance practice room with Joon.

"Where's Miyong?" Soohyun asks curiously. He usually sees them together these days.

Joon shrugs. "He said he had something he wanted to do. I didn't ask too many questions."

"Oh. Okay."

Down the hallway, in another part of the practice facility?—

Miyong had been the first one to clear out after their rehearsal had ended. He wanted to go see Meyemi-sunbaenim again, although he couldn't say why. It was just something he had been thinking about. A couple of days had passed, and he kept thinking of the time he'd spent with Meyemi in that closet.

He wasn't sure where to find them. Unlike Charis, Miyong wasn't confident enough to just wander around the place looking until he found what he wanted. It had seemed less stressful to just go up to a director uncle and ask.

"First Love's practice studio? I think it should be in Block A, although I think all the groups have wrapped up for the morning. You might have better luck finding them in their dressing room if they haven't already headed back to their dorms."

"Thank you, uncle," Miyong said, bowing politely.

He had scurried off in the direction the staff uncle had pointed out, following the clearly printed signs on the floor to find his way toward the right area.

He swung open the practice room curiously at first, but the director uncle was right. It was dark and quiet with all of the lights turned off. The only thing that lingered in the room was the scent of disinfectant and floor polish. Miyong kept walking, wandering his way around, by now pretty sure that he could find the dressing room in this area if he kept looking.

After all, he was in the right place, and it should be similar to Fairytale's section layout, right?

He does find the dressing room. It's occupied. When he knocks, a voice on the other side of the door says, "Come in."

Miyong swings open the door with a little hesitance.

"Hello?" he says as he steps inside.

He's in luck. Only Meyemi is there. It's not that Miyong has any hard feelings toward the other members of the group. It's just that he doesn't know them, if it can be even said that this type of "know" is anything substantial. They had only talked for a little while.

"Oh. It's you," is all that Meyemi says. "Well. You don't have to stand in the doorway. You can come inside."

Meyemi is getting ready for something. Miyong is a little curious, since they didn't have any kind of shooting on their schedule.

He drifts further into the room and asks curiously, "Is First Love doing a special mission?"

"Mission? We're filming a commercial."

"Ahh…"

Of course. For a group as big as First Love, appearing on a contest show wouldn't be enough to stop them from doing their regular schedules. Miyong's voice trails off. Fairytale didn't get asked to do anything like that. Soohyun would have told them if that was the case.

"Should you really be talking to us?" Meyemi asks.

It's hard to tell if you don't know him—Miyong probably doesn't know him well enough to catch it, but one of Meyemi's other members would. Jewel would. He's amused. There's something indulgent around his eyes and the wickedish curl of his lips. He flicks his eyes up toward Miyong in the mirror and then goes back to applying his lip gloss, slicking his lips with a shine that catches the light with tiny flecks of glitter.

"Seems like the kind of thing your leader will get upset about. Fraternizing with the enemy."

Miyong thinks of Soohyun, but he can't imagine it—can't imagine Soohyun getting upset about this.

"He wouldn't," Miyong says a little defensively.

"Huh," Meyemi says. He tosses a casual shrug with a sharp shoulder. "You know him better than me."

Miyong isn't sure if that—what Meyemi sunbaenim said—means that he's overstayed his welcome and is getting kicked out of the dressing room, but the leader of First Love makes no attempt to kick him out. He starts lining his eyes with an electric midnight blue shade that makes his blue contact lenses pop.

Miyong shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. He's not usually shy, but standing in front of the members of First Love feels different. They've got a whole ‘nother aura about them. Meyemi has it even when he's slouched haphazardly in his seat, not performing and hardly paying attention to Miyong at all.

Or so Miyong thought. He was just about to leave when he's shocked by Meyemi suddenly talking to him again. It feels visceral, like an electric jolt running through his body, and even though they're the only two in the room, Miyong almost wants to look behind him to see if there's someone else there.

But he can already see in the mirror that there isn't.

"You're the rapper, right? For that fairytale group?"

"Yeah," Miyong says nervously. He's too nervous to be properly put out that Meyemi can't remember that their name is ‘Fairytale.' "I'm one of them. Mouse and Xiao Yu are both better than me, though."

"Hm. I wonder."

"Wonder what?" Miyong asks curiously, drifting closer.

It's not like Fairytale doesn't have a boatload of cosmetics at home, too. Besides what their stylist noonas put on them, Miyong does his own makeup. He owns an eyeshadow palette that he really likes, and he has a cushion foundation and a couple shades of lipstick. But the stuff spread out on the counter in front of Meyemi looks expensive. Miyong is pretty sure he sees a YSL compact.

"If you're satisfied with that?" Meyemi says, meeting eyes with him in the mirror. "Do you like being third?"

"Haha. Ouch," Miyong says, rubbing at his arm bashfully. He had said it first, giving credit where credit is due—but it still stings hearing it come from Meyemi's perfectly done-up, pretty lips so matter-of-factly. Like Miyong is just third-rate.

"You don't like that," Meyemi observes. "But you said it, not me."

"Well." Miyong pauses. "You didn't have to agree with me."

That sounds childish, but Miyong is—well, basically still a child for all intents and purposes. Not so far away.

"Hey, am I older than the maknae of your group?"

"Than Ttalgi? I'm sure I wouldn't know. You must be around the same age." As if he could tell where Miyong was trying to go with this, he adds, "Ttalgi wouldn't allow anyone to say that they're better than him, you know."

"Everyone is better than someone," Miyong says. "Everyone is worse than someone, too. That's just how it goes."

"Wisdom from the mouth of babes? Or foolishness?"

Miyong can't say that he doesn't know what expression he's making in the mirror—for better or worse, he can see it plain as day, right there in front of him. He really does look like a little kid. Upset, with his mouth twisting a bit like he's trying not to cry.

Meyemi isn't like the hyungs in Miyong's group. He doesn't coddle Miyong. Miyong has been used to being around his members for so long that he doesn't even always realize that he's being coddled.

Right now, Meyemi finally turns around. There's a light scent around him when he does. His hair is perfumed, and there's a different light, expensive scent on his body. The costume he's wearing is interesting. It's got a high neck with a pleated collar. It's dark black in a way that sets off his light complexion but sheer in points, in a way that catches the eye.

There's something vivid and lively and almost compassionate in his eyes as he looks at Miyong. "Why'd you come to see me?" he asks in a very ordinary voice; he stops batting Miyong around like a cat with a toy. He has a very nice voice when he speaks, and Miyong feels faintly electric as Meyemi turns his full focus on him.

He doesn't know how old Meyemi is, but given how long First Love has been performing, he should be at least as old as Soohyun. Maybe he's even a bit older.

Now Miyong looks bashfully down at the floor.

"…I liked you," Miyong says. "I liked spending time with you, and I thought. Haha, well. I thought I would come to wish you good luck."

He doesn't hear anything from Meyemi. Not at first, and then not even after a little while. So finally Miyong has to dredge up his courage and peek up.

Meyemi looks at him a little dumbfounded, as though these weren't the words he was expecting from Miyong at all.

It's not that no one has ever tried to curry his favor before. It's just that no one has ever been this blatant about it, or as selfless. Meyemi is very sure that the little maknae from the fairytale-themed group does not actually want anything from him.

How… strange.

"…what's your name?" he finally asks.

"Haha, my name's Miyong. Um, Jang Miyong. Look, my members tell me sometimes that I'm not very good at taking hints or reading the room, but…"

"Miyong," Meyemi repeats, ignoring all of the other babble.

Miyong stops talking and straightens a bit.

When he does, he looks a bit like a young man. Like the solid man he'll become from this puppy-like, rangy youth. He seems, very honestly, like someone who will grow into a fine young man with a little more time. Maybe Meyemi can see it more clearly because he's not used to seeing Miyong as the baby of the group. Maybe they can see each other a little more clearly.

"…thanks for coming to see me," Meyemi says. He gestures at his things, at the expensive cosmetics spread out on the table in front of him. "I have to finish getting ready now, but… you can feel free to come back whenever you want."

The sudden invitation strikes through Miyong like a bell, and he holds his breath.

Meyemi tilts his head. "I wouldn't mind it if we were friends."

The word ‘friends' causes a big smile to spread across Miyong's face and then grow there.

"Friends!" he repeats, completely content and happy, and then seems to hear himself. When he's this excitable, his voice rings out rather loudly in the empty dressing room. He immediately shrinks back, feeling bashful again.

The dressing room looks lived in. Although they're the only two in it, it's packed full with signs of life. Of Meyemi's life with his members. It's sometimes a small and insular life, but it's theirs, and Meyemi never regrets it or wishes he spent his time with other people. There's one of Ttalgi's games tossed on the counter. Jewel's jacket is slung over a chair, and Hyori's makeup is in a clatter in front of a different mirror, along with Jewel's hair dryer.

"Friends," Miyong repeats more sedately, looking at Meyemi with serious and sincere eyes.

Meyemi feels confused and exasperated but more than that, fond.

"Friends," he agrees, and Miyong leaves with one last smile and a wave, leaving Meyemi to shake his head, looking at the unfamiliar, wry expression on his own face in the mirror as he goes to finish touching up his makeup.