DRAMA CLUB | hyunin ✔

.58

crossing the doors of the theater and inhaling the fresh air from the outside felt like jeongin had been instantly reborn.

the foreign gates of that strange building left jeongin with the sort of awkward feeling one felt when they realized they acted fucking stupid.

his life didn't depend on whether he won a dumb competition or not! and he should've seen it sooner, especially at that time when he thought chan was about to erase him from existence. that should've been a wake up call.

but what did it for him was stepping outside, kicking his high heels off his sore feet and onto the grass (how did women wear that?) and running towards hyunjin's death machine he called a motorcycle.

he heard hyunjin's gleeful laughter as he approached it, sparing one second to consider whether or not it was the right bike. gee, think of the embarrassment if he hopped on someone else's motorcycle! but then there was an arm wrapping around him from behind and a helmet being pushed onto his head.

his wig caught on the side and slid off to the grass as his head settled inside the helmet, and hyunjin's warm hand slid down his shoulder, coming to join his other hand on jeongin's waist.

jeongin wondered if he could feel the butterflies having a disco party inside his belly.

"where... where are we going?" jeongin tried, and failed, to keep his voice steady.

hyunjin removed his hands from him, and jeongin cursed himself for breaking the spell.

he hopped on the bike in front of him, jeongin's hands tying themselves on the other's middle like muscle memory. the engine roared like an awakened beast, but couldn't overlap hyunjin's voice when he yelled, "it's a surprise!" and jeongin had to hold onto him for dear life as they took off with the motorcycle through the streets, and his body was thrown back like a ragdoll.

---

"where the hell are we?" jeongin half-heartedly inquired, because he was too busy having his breath taken away by the sight of the entire town below them.

hyunjin abruptly shook his head once it was freed from the helmet, like a dog after a bath, and walked over so he stood next to jeongin on the edge of the cliff, a hand sneakily weaving around his hip.

"the place i came to whenever you hung out with your actor friends," hyunjin shrugged as if that was a neutral answer.

"eh?" jeongin let out as a painful shriek. was he serious? hyunjin went there alone? in this economy? that place was deserted, and jeongin had seen enough horror movies to imagine several scenarios in which hyunjin was stabbed, sawed, hammered, electrocuted---

"since fifth grade," hyunjin completed.

with eyes on the verge of jumping out of their sockets, jeongin gaped at him from the side, utterly confused. that was, what, four years ago? and he hadn't noticed at all?

"you- you, you..." the words were on the tip of his tongue, he just couldn't voice it out.

hyunjin just sighed playfully, like he was disposing of a heavy object. from the side, jeongin watched him put a hand to his forehead and slowly push back the swirl of hair that had survived long hours of waiting to perform, and the actual performance itself. jeongin wondered how much hairspray had been used on it, and whether or not it was crunchy to the touch.

for the way it followed hyunjin's hand as if attracted by its magnetic power, the little swirl of hair fell right back on his forehead in silky slow motion. not crunchy, then.