𝗟𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗼𝘆𝘀

✨20✨

Awaking in the middle of the night, I notice my hand isn't holding MJ's anymore. I turn to my side, and upon seeing the cot completely empty, I snap up. Looking around the tent, I see the entrance is halfway open.

I make my way out of the tent, confused and disoriented when I see Sanha is no longer out there. The fire has been put out, but no one is standing watch. In the distance, I see a silhouette that looks familiar. Making my way towards it, I step lightly so as to not wake anyone.

Just as expected, MJ is standing straight, looking about the field in front of us.

"Why are you awake Rina?"

I hadn't even come close to his peripheral vision, he must have memorized the sound of my steps and breathing, "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

When I finally approach his side, he doesn't turn to look at me, and his expression is hard to read as he looks up at the sky, "Fine, just dandy."

Placing my hand on his shoulder makes him look at me, his amber eyes have never looked so dull before, "MJ, you don't sound fine."

"That's what she wants, isn't it?" He looks up again at the sky, and it's as if he sees something more than the sky, "She wants me to feel something from the lightning strike, awaken something in me. The truth of the matter is that all she awakens is fucking anger."

Who is she? "Sanha didn't mean to--"

"I know he didn't mean to Rina," He sighs in frustration as he sits on the ground, legs crossed, elbows on his knees, hands at his chin, "Rina, what's your favorite color?"

"I don't have one."

"Sure you do!" MJ then laughs, but I can tell he doesn't find it funny, "You becoming sloppy or what?!" He yells into the field and I take a step back. Who the hell was he talking to? "Aha," He buries his face into his hands and begins laughing hysterically, the kind of laugh you hear in an asylum.

"MJ, you're scaring me."

"Of course I am," MJ speaks through his laughter, "No one gets it, no one fucking gets that we are meaningless unless you are there. We cease to exist the moment you do not perceive us." He laughs harder again and yells at the field again, "You just couldn't make it a third point of view, could ya?!"

Right, his story metaphors, the game analogies, does MJ think he is in a story?

"Purple," I sit down next to him, "Purple is my favorite color. My favorite meal is my mother's udon soup and my favorite drink is brown sugar boba. You think we are just a story, don't you?"

"I know so," He turns to me with desperation in his eyes, "Don't you see? I'm not real. I'm a take on another real person who she's never even seen or met outside of a screen. An idol who is human, with no powers or even--"

I can't help but laugh and he looks taken aback, "You think we are part of a fanfiction?"

MJ shakes his head, his dirty blond hair falls over his eyes with frustration, "She's getting a kick out of this I bet, making me question my existence in such an open way to the main character of her pathetic excuse of a story, torturing me with the knowledge that I'm just a side character."

I'm confused as to how he can believe this so strongly, and I now understand he has believed this even before he was struck by lightning. "What's your favorite color?"

"Whatever she picks it to be. Whatever the real MJ's favorite color is. I don't know..." He sighs and shrugs, "How do I know red is really my favorite? How do I know my past actually happened if it's just exposition to how she wants you to perceive me?"

"Who's she?"

"The author! The one who decided to give me these shit powers!" His hands grip his hair and he begins rocking back and forth. "Every day it becomes stronger, every day my senses become more heightened, every day is another piece of information appearing in my brain that proves more and more that I am... I am nothing."

Maybe he was right, maybe his powers did bring some sort of 4th wall awareness, but even with that... "So what if we are just a story? Stories are other worlds, alternate dimensions, aren't they?"

MJ looks up slightly, resting his head on his arms that rested on his knees, "That's the theory."

"Deadpool is self-aware, isn't he? Yet he lives just fine in the comics, having memories of experiences and thoughts that were never actually on panels. They are real memories he has even if the artist never showed a flashback of said memories." I point at myself, "Just because this author has never shown me and Jihyo at school, does not take away the memories I have of her at school."

MJ sits up, pushing his legs out so they were stretched out, "How do you view me? What do you see from your perspective?"

I hum, thinking to myself, "In full detail?"

"Please."

Scooting closer to him, I grab a hold of his hand and smile, "You change from energetic, happy, and present, to absent and monotone. Your usage of your powers always amazes me, I enjoy your story and game metaphors, I like laughing with you, and you are handsome in a very fairy-like way." I blush when our eyes meet and he finally has a faint smile on his lips. "You are as real as they come MJ, and I think if you weren't, then you wouldn't have a perception of me or anyone else either, right?"

He nods, as if reassuring himself, "I notice you, even when I'm not there. With my hearing, I've memorized your breathing patterns, when you pretend to be asleep to avoid conversation, and when your heart rate spikes whenever one of the guys does something flattering or intimate. Your steps aren't as light as Sanha's but he steps with his heel while you always step as if you were on your tip toes." His hand lets go of mine, raises to my head and he caresses my hair, "I smell the weirdest yet sweetest scent from you, I see your pores and how few blemishes you have... I recognize your beauty when I hear the other's hearts spike when they look at you."

"So then," I smile as I grab the hand still holding onto my face, knowing he can probably hear the way my heartbeat has accelerated, "Am I real?"

"You are the most real person I've met," He laughs as he pokes my nose, "And that's not in a slang manner. You feel real and you make me feel real, I'm just scared of the ending."

"I don't think the end is coming any time soon MJ," I stand up and offer my hand for him to take, "Aside from your existential crisis and conversation with whoever our author is, are you physically okay?"

MJ takes my hand and I help him stand up. He then places his hands on my shoulders, pulling me close, "You took all of the pain away, didn't you?" I just nod. Our faces are inches away, and seeing his knowing smile as I feel my heartbeat in my throat makes me even more nervous. "Isn't it cruel?"

"What is?"

"Having to pick just one?" He lowers his hands to my waist and I feel his face inching closer, "Hell if nobody else will try to pick you first, I will."

His nose graces mine, and I feel my eyes flutter close just as I feel his breath only on my lips.

"MJ?"

We pull apart instantly and we turn to see JinJin making his way over. He was so far away, I don't think he even saw us about to almost kiss.

"I guess she doesn't like it when I go off script..." MJ mumbles to himself, avoiding my eyes, "Hey Jin, I'm back from the dead!"

And just like that, he's energetic and happy again, telling JinJin he's fine, describing how it felt to be struck by lightning, while I stood breathless, watching them go back to camp.

If MJ was right about one thing, it was the cruelness of my situation. Liking and caring for 6 boys and having no clue who was the one.

Remember every comment counts to her love interest.