Fanfiction [MASHIKYU]

4 - 4

Mashiho

Everything is grey, uncertain and confusing. Does grey even qualify as a colour? If black and white don't, then why does grey? It doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense. I don't make sense.

The two weeks leading up to the concert are a messy, grey blur. They're a blur of me trying my best to avoid Junkyu, because I can't speak to him unless they're the right words, and I don't have any good words right now. But I want to talk to him so badly, to tell him everything that's been bothering me and have him hold my hand and tell me I'll be fine... but using him like that would officially make me the worst person in the entire world. We don't practise Curse until the day before the concert when Jihoon scolds us for not doing it. When we do, I think of anything else I can to distract myself from just thinking about how close our bodies are. Most of all, I avoid looking him in the eyes. When I look him in the eyes I see my own confusion reflected in them and hate myself.

They're a blur of being dragged out of my room each day even when I say I don't feel well and don't want to go to practice. The members in the dorm take turns with who gets to force me to go each day. Sometimes, they try to talk to me about it, but give up fast when they realise I can barely string one sentence together. I sleep in this room alone now. Junkyu moved into the other dorm. I asked Jihoon why he did that, and Jihoon said it was because he wanted to give me space.

They're a blur of looking up things about sexuality online and none of the labels making any sense to me because all the words go backwards and upside down and fuzzy and I can't concentrate on any of it. Homosexual, bisexual, pansexual, demisexual, graysexual, asexual, or sexual replaced with romantic on all of the above... the idea of applying any of them to myself makes me feel sick and then the fact that they make me feel sick makes me feel even worse. I know I told Junkyu I needed time and space, but it's not helping at all. I can't see myself managing to sort myself out just with more time and more space. I'm going around in circles. I don't know what I need.

They're a blur of me trying to figure out the way I feel about Junkyu, and realising I definitely feel something towards him that I have never felt, and don't feel towards anyone else. I might have liked him all this time. I might even love him. But as soon as I think those words, I feel so scared that I want to hide under my blankets and never come out. And how can I tell him any of that when I'm so confused by it? What if I think I love him but I'm wrong and I just end up breaking his heart? If I can't even figure out my sexuality on my own, how can I involve another person in the mess of my feelings?

I've forgotten how to be myself. I can barely handle being an idol right now... I haven't gone on Twitter for the entire two weeks. I have no idea how I'm going to pull off a concert. I'm not even excited about showcasing Loud anymore.

I feel like I'm living in a constant derealisation. Everything feels just a little bit unreal. The walls don't feel like walls, the music doesn't sound like music, dancing doesn't feel like dancing, talking doesn't feel like talking. I'm a robotic version of myself, going through the motions I'm supposed to every day automatically, stiffly and senselessly. The stars don't even look like stars anymore. Every night when I find myself under them they are blinding spotlights on me, putting me on display for everyone and everything in the world to see, but I have nothing to give them.

And more than anything else, more than all of it, my mind can't move away from the almost-kiss. What it felt like in that moment, with that pulsing suspense in the air, the look in his eyes that told me he wanted to kiss me too, the fireworks, the brush of his lips on mine that wasn't even enough to register whether they were rough or smooth, and I can't stop myself wondering what it would feel like to finish the act. To kiss him and mean it.

The night before the concert, I get a notification of a new fanfiction chapter and throw my phone across the room. That stupid fanfiction. If it wasn't for the fanfiction, this would never have happened. I wouldn't have listened to Junkyu reading out a scene of us kissing and I wouldn't have wondered what it would be like to do it in real life. I wouldn't have had all the ideas put in my head of myself being in love with him in a story. I wouldn't have laid with him in bed that one night and fallen asleep on him which led to me sleeping in his bed always and feeling just a little bit closer to him every time. I wouldn't have laughed so hard with him and had so much fun that made me feel happier than ever when we were together.

Don't be stupid, Mashiho. You can't blame this on a fanfiction.

Fighting back tears, I go to pick up my phone but stop in my tracks when the door is swung open by a startled looking Asahi.

"What's happening? I heard a loud noise from in here," he says, looking around for signs of damage.

"Nothing," I mumble, moving to close the door because I'm not in the mood for company.

Asahi only pushes the door open wider. "Please don't close the door on me." Then his gaze trails down to my phone on the ground, and back up to me. "Mashi, we're so worried about you."

"I'm fine," I lie, folding my arms over my chest.

He doesn't acknowledge my stupid little statement. "I just want you to know that I'm here to help you, okay? With anything you need."

"Can you just leave me alone?" I ask. I know I'm being rude, but right now I don't care.

His eyes harden for a moment, then he takes a breath and softens them again. "I just think maybe you'll feel better if you talk about it with someone. I'd better understand what you're going through if you could tell me."

"You wouldn't get it." I pull my arms tighter against myself and turning my gaze down to my feet.

There's silence for a moment.

When Asahi speaks again, it's in this cold near-whisper that makes me shiver. "I wouldn't get it? Seriously? You don't think I would get what it's like to be confused? It took me years to figure out what the hell my sexuality was, and again to figure out what the hell I felt forJaehyuk was. I get that it's hard. That's why I'm offering you help."

I don't ask how he figured out exactly what my problem was, instead I heave a sigh of frustration, throwing my hands up and then back down again. "So if you get it, why can't you just let me be?"

"Because, Mashiho," he says, his voice beginning to rise as he takes a step closer to me, "you being confused is affecting everyone a lot more than it should be. You can be confused all you like, but you can't just forget you're in a team. Getting you to rehearsal is like drawing blood from a stone. You don't speak to anyone when you're there. You treat Junkyu like he's invisible."

I hear my own voice rising too, and my blood runs hotter. "Why are you being like this? Why are you trying to confront me? Can't you just be here for me?"

"I want to be here for you, Mashiho," despite his words, his voice is growing colder by the second. "I've always been there for you before. Hell, I was the one who held you and comforted you and let you sleep in my room at the start of all this. And didn't I just come in here trying to help you? But I can't just stand by and watch you make the entire group stressed and miserable for no good reason!"

My stomach twists and a flash of anger whips through me. "No good reason? See, I told you you wouldn't get it. The only struggle you've ever had with your relationship was Jaehyuk not thinking you were affectionate enough!"

He lets out a humourless laugh. "Look, Mashiho, all I know is that you just need to pull yourself together and put on a fucking good show tomorrow for everyone's sake. I stand by that there's no good reason for you to let everyone down like this. You're behaving like a child." He points to my phone on the floor. "Throwing your phone against the wall? Really? Grow up." His whole face is hard and angry as he speaks, but then he stops, and his features soften for a moment into something worse... hurt. "And I can't believe that after I was more honest and open with you than I've ever been with anyone that morning, you blow it off like I didn't even have a problem."

He slams the door as he goes.

Hot tears streaming down my face and teeth clenched, I swipe up my phone from the floor and see a spiderweb of cracks stretching out all over the black screen. Good. That's how messy and chaotic and out of order I am inside, too.