Next Door |•YEONGYU/BEOMJUN•|

~6~

"We need to talk," Ms Choi said with a stern voice.

Yeonjun looked at his mother, a little taken aback by her sudden tone. "Yes, ma?" he replied softly, after quickly chewing his food. Ms Choi put down her chopsticks and slid her food to the side. 

"What is wrong with you, Healing?" she said with a heavy voice.
"What?"
"Don't act dumb. Why do you act that way with that boy next door?"

Yeonjun's demeanour changed visibly. He paused briefly before quickly returning to normal. "I don't know what you're talking about, ma," he said as if taking a walk in the park. 

"Are you stupid?" She finally snapped at him.

Yeonjun gasped at his mother's sudden outburst. She never raised her voice. Never.

"I'm sorry," She said after taking a moment to regain her thoughts. "It's not about you're behaviour towards that boy, Healing. It's about our reputation. They will think that... bad behaviour of yours lies in the genes."

"Mom," He pleaded in a harsh whisper, "Don't say things like that. You're wonderful."

"If you want me to stop, then fix you're behaviour first," She argued.

Yeonjun looked at his mother in disbelief. "You can't be serious right now, Ma. I have more reasonable stuff to do than be nice to some emo boy that happens to live next door. Besides, he is the one for whom I need to take a six-month break from my career," he said back, leaving no room for further argument. He stood up, thanked his mom for the meal, and left with an unfathomable expression.

His mother just scoffed at seeing her son's new behavioural trait. What did Beomgyu ever do to him? 

Yeonjun didn't go outside for walks or leg therapy for the next few days. He just lay on his bed, his attention solely on his phone, which was glued to his hand. 
Over time, the icy words of the winter wind were hushed, allowing spring to speak its first syllables.

Beomgyu was left in a dilemma. Why did things have to be like this? Why couldn't he just- jump off a damn building already? He didn't know what to do anymore. He just decided to do the first thing that occurred to his mind. Even though it absolutely sucked.

Soon enough, he found himself in front of Yeonjun's door, knocking on the door as if he were their guest. 
A man opened the door--clearly a cleaner-- and looked him up and down with a disapproving glare. "What do you need," he stated, not even bothering to make it a question.
Offended, Beomgyu started, "I need to talk to-"
"Not allowed," the elder man chimed in, cutting him off. "He doesn't like company." The man shooed him away.
That's when Beomgyu snapped, launching into a heated argument. Just as their bickering escalated, Yeonjun's mother came to the rescue. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Beomgyu immediately switched to an innocent smile. Seeing him, she beamed, her smile wide and warm. "Why aren't you letting him in? Come on in, dear, what brings you here?" She gave him a tight hug.
He scratched the back of his neck with a nervous smile. "Is Yeonjun home? By any chance..."
She nodded and quickly showed him the way towards Yeonjun's room. Beomgyu then slowly walked up to the elder's room, one step at a time. Then he silently opened the other's bedroom door and was met with Yeonjun's back facing him. Yeonjun probably didn't realise the younger's presence since he was so absorbed in scrolling through his phone. 
Beomgyu took a deep breath and released it. He walked towards the elder and knelt in front of him. 
The ego-maniac still didn't pay him any attention, and he sighed. 

"Hyung," Beomgyu started. But before Yeonjun could get the chance to even look at him or stop, he continued. 
"I know I mean nothing to you," He said quietly. "But you're my idol, hyung."
Yeonjun gave him a sharp side glance. "Cut the crap, punk."

Beomgyu shook his head. "No, really. I know I'm not your friend or anyone close, but... just see me as a fan, at least."

He let out a shaky breath. "I always wanted to be like you. A dancer whom people admire. A good singer... someone who can stand on his own. But I don't think I'll ever get there." His voice softened. "When I first saw you, I was so happy. I wanted to talk to you, but..." He hesitated, then rushed the words out, "But you keep pushing me away. Is it because I'm ugly or am I just not you're type?"
He stopped, a little out of breath, realizing how quickly he'd spoken.

Yeonjun studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Beomgyu," he said finally, "you're not ugly. Not even close." He paused, as if searching for the right words. Hearing Beomgyu spill his thoughts like that stirred something in him he hadn't expected.
Beomgyu gave a small nod. "You don't have to answer now. I just wanted you to know how I felt and clear out this misunderstanding. Maybe we can at least... try to know each other better." He stood, making his way toward the door.

"Beomgyu."

Yeonjun's voice made him stop. He had sat up on the bed, his gaze softer now.

"I'd like that too."

And Beomgyu felt like he owned the whole world.