The interior of Jisung's house was much the same as the exterior — a mix of modern and farmhouse style, with a warm, homey vibe to it. The living room was a wide open space, decorated with sofas and plants, ancient-looking paintings and amateur doodles hanging in equally grand frames. The walls were painted a faded green colour, and the floor and staircase were century-old fir.
There was a flash of movement, and suddenly two people were standing to the side of a stunning upright piano.
I'd met Dr. Bang before, but that was at the hospital, at his work. I could tell he was home now; he looked comfortable and relaxed, still confusingly handsome. Next to him was Haseong, I assumed — he was the only member of the family I hadn't seen before. He was gorgeous, with a sharp jawline and eyes that seemed to sparkle, even from across the room. He was dressed casually — jeans and a big sweater — and Chan was dressed very, very casually — a hoodie with a howling wolf emblazoned on the front.
"Minho," Jisung's voice broke the silence, "this is Chan and Haseong. Chan, Haseong — Minho."
Haseong took a step forward — careful, measured, like he was trying not to startle me — and held his hand out.
"Hi, Minho." His voice was like melted butter. "It's good to meet you."
"You, too." I shook his hand.
"Hi again, Minho," Chan said. He stepped up, and his boyish smile was instantly welcoming.
"Hello." I shook his hand as well. "It's nice to see you again."
"Is your head feeling better?"
"It didn't really hurt." Was that too informal? "Sir."
He waved the honorific away. "Chan, please."
I smiled, relieved. "Okay, Chan."
"What do you think of my hoodie?" he asked, pointing toward the wolf. I was about to answer when Jisung and Haseong groaned in unison.
"Sorry," Haseong said to me. "It's his favourite."
"He said he wouldn't wear it," Jisung added.
"That's all right," I said. "It's awesome, actually."
Chan threw a myriad of hand gestures at me — fingers snapping, hands clapping, finger-guns drawn — with an expression like triumph on his lovely face. I awkwardly returned it.
"Where are Felix and Changbin?" Jisung changed the subject.
Just as he said it, two figures appeared at the top of the staircase.
Felix careened over the railing, landing on the floor in a graceful blur, and walked up to us.
"Hey, Minho!" He took my hand from my side and shook heartily.
"Hi, Felix," I said.
"Sorry we didn't get a proper introduction on Friday." He smiled at Jisung. "Jisung is afraid of me."
Jisung closed his eyes and shook his head.
Before I could respond, Felix abruptly spun on his heels, joining the others. He threw his arm around Changbin's neck.
Jisung was still tense. I tugged on his hand, met his eyes and smiled. He smiled back, long-suffering.
"Hello, Minho," Changbin said in a rich, throaty voice. He nodded his head, but didn't step forward.
"Hey, Changbin," I replied. It didn't feel awkward. I felt calm, actually, and a stray echo of worry in my mind lifted. That was his power — he could control people's emotions, make them feel whatever he pleased. It was strange to know I was under the influence of vampire magic while it was happening.
Then I heard footsteps from another direction. Three more members of the family stumbled into the room.
"Minho," Jisung said, "this is Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin."
"Hi," I said, waving in a wide arc. They were keeping a safe distance, like Changbin.
The younger one, Jeongin, grinned a toothy smile and waved at me with one delicate hand. He was falling into Hyunjin's side like a cute Leaning Tower of Pisa.
"Hello," said the breathtaking one — Seungmin. "Nice to meet you. No need to be nervous, by the way. We don't bite."
I laughed stupidly loud. When I shut myself up, they were all eyeing me. I pressed my lips together.
"Hi, Minho." Hyunjin approached suddenly and attacked me in a bear-hug. (He was stronger than he looked, but his hold on me was oddly gentle and comforting.)
He backed up, and his eyes shifted to Jisung.
"What? You want one, too?" He raised his arms.
"You promised not to embarrass me," Jisung hissed.
Hyunjin fluttered his hands in surrender, winking at me. He spun back to stand with Seungmin and Jeongin.
"It's really great to meet you all," I said, trying to meet each of their golden eyes. "I really like your house. It's beautiful." I hadn't performed for a group of people like this before. I thought I would have been tense, stammered or gotten someone's name wrong — but I felt at ease around them. I felt like any mistake I could have made wasn't beyond repair.
"Thank you," Chan said. "We're really happy you're here. I don't want to freak you out or anything, but we've been very eager to meet you. Especially Felix."
Felix smacked his arm and nearly knocked him over.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jisung nod quickly in Haseong's direction. I refocussed.
"I'm happy to be here," I said. "I feel welcome."
I let my eyes float over the furniture and knickknacks — each just as mysterious as the next. The piano held my attention. I imagined Jisung playing it, losing himself in the melodies. Maybe thinking about me.
"Do you play?" Chan tipped his head toward the piano.
"No, I don't," I said. "I know he does."
We both looked at Jisung. He looked to his side, too, as if we were talking about some other pianist just behind him.
When I glanced back at Chan, he was obviously proud — and teasing, like he knew Jisung would hate this.
"Have you heard him play?" Chan asked. I shook my head. His eyes switched to Jisung. "Why don't you play a little something for Minho?"
Jisung grudgingly headed toward the piano, towing me with him. He took a seat on the bench, and I sat next to him, ecstatic and trying to hide it. He let go of my hand and cracked his knuckles.
He started playing. His fingers darted across the keys like magic, and sound filled the room. It was upbeat, something you could dance to. I found myself swaying.
"Who wrote this?" I asked, watching his hands.
"Chan, Changbin and I."
I blinked. "You wrote this?"
"It was a team effort. It's better than the ones I write by myself."
I rolled my eyes. "Why do you say things that make me want to yell at you?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
I turned around, looking to compliment Chan and Changbin, but the room was empty.
"They're gone," I said.
"They thought we'd want privacy," he replied.
"Oh. As long as we're alone — what happened with Felix? What did he mean when he said you were afraid of him?"
"He..." Jisung cringed. "He's seen certain things about you. In his visions. He said I'm afraid of him because I haven't let him meet you, and now that you're here, he can get started on his agenda."
"What's his agenda?"
"Becoming your best friend."
I wasn't sure if I should have been flattered or creeped out. I decided a little of both.
"All right then. Changbin was using his magic, wasn't he?" I moved on.
"Mmhmm. He thought you might be nervous. Besides, they're all a little on edge."
"Why?"
"Felix had a vision before we arrived. There's a coven of vampires en route to Forks. They're not vegetarian."
"Oh. Are... people in danger?"
"They could be. We're gonna try to approach the coven, ask if they could hunt somewhere else."
"Is that what you were nodding to Haseong about earlier?"
He gave me a look. "Yeah. He wanted to let me know as soon as possible, but he thought it might scare you if he said it aloud."
I was afraid for residents of Forks, less so for myself. I figured I had the best protection system right here.
"I'm not scared."
"But I am. Could I be overprotective and clingy for a while — until they're gone?"
"You're not clingy now?"
He smacked my arm, and half the melody died. He picked it back up again.
We swayed in silence for a moment. The song had changed — this one was less animated, more introspective. I stared at his fingers dancing across the keys, moving so quickly they blurred, like they were separate entities — his tiny orchestra.
"Can I hear one you wrote? By yourself?" I asked.
He deliberated, gnawing on his lip. "Do you... want to hear the one I wrote for you?"
"Yes, please," I choked.
He stopped for a second, and then started again. This melody was soft, sonorous, mournful, layered, mesmerizing. I suddenly recognized it — he had hummed it to me as I fell asleep last night. I was enamoured, listening closely to his song. My song.
It was a minute of steady climbing, and then the rhythm started losing its clip, and his hands gradually slowed. It became almost painfully quiet, and it descended — spiralled, almost — until it was nothing.
Jisung's eyes crept toward me, unsure of my reaction.
"Um." I shook my head, something like love and grief boiling over in my brain. I shook my head again. "That's beautiful. I love it."
He nodded a little, unsatisfied.
"It's... sad," I said. "Do you, I don't know, wanna talk about it? Why it's sad?"
His lips pulled up, purely ironic. "The answer is sad."
"We can still—"
"Let's not talk about it, my love. I want to be happy with you."
I didn't say anything more. I knew about this bleak place inside of him. It was not somewhere I wanted to be with him, not somewhere healthy for him to be. Unless he asked to speak about it, I was going to avoid it altogether.
"Okay." I lifted his hand off the keyboard and laced our fingers together. "Can I see more of the house?"
"Of course."
~ * ~
Jisung gave me a tour of his house, gesturing with the hand I wasn't holding hostage. He showed me the kitchen they didn't use, the game room they used too much, the room where he kept his robot pet projects. (He still wouldn't tell me their names.)
Above the stairs was a large collage of test papers, each with a big red F scrawled across it. He told me that, every time they relocated, they took turns flunking high school so they could stay in their new home a year longer. It wasn't his turn, but Jisung said he was failing anyway; his grades had nose-dived since he met me. It was nice to know I wasn't the only one.
He showed me his siblings' rooms — all varying levels of messiness, all filled with mementos that seemed to bend time, like the last century had stumbled and collapsed onto their bedside tables in the form of a lava lamp next to a monocle.
He showed me a room that had nothing but photo albums in it. No furniture, no windows — just black leather piled from floor to ceiling, pictures spilling out of the pages. He scooped up the book nearest to us, titled 'Mar - Aug, 1988.' He flipped it open and let me peruse the photos trapped beneath the spotless plastic.
The first was Chan, riding one of those animatronic ponies outside of a grocery store, and Haseong pretending to feed it. Another was Jeongin, Hyunjin and Seungmin on a picnic, the former two planting kisses on each of the latter's cheeks. Another was Jisung, screaming and sprinting toward the camera, and Felix — wearing a grotesque zombie mask — close on his heels. One row was nothing but closeups of Changbin laughing. The last on the page was the family standing in a wide-open field, one member missing. I asked where Hyunjin was, and Jisung told me he was most often behind the camera.
At that moment, Hyunjin zoomed into the room and snapped a picture of us. Jisung started yelling at him, but I didn't mind; I liked the idea of being included in their memories.
Hyunjin smiled, let his camera hang from a strap around his neck, and picked up a book titled 'Oct - Nov, 1973.' He showed me a photo of himself, working as a street dancer in Rio de Janeiro.
The rest gradually piled in, telling stories and showing me pictures Jisung had neglected to. Seungmin at a sock hop, Felix riding into the Grand Canyon on the back of a donkey, Jeongin's flawless impression of the Redeemer on the Corcovado. They skipped over decades like they were mere months.
Later on, Jisung showed me his room. There were shelves upon shelves of CDs — CDs in boxes, empty CD cases scattered on the floor — and a heavyweight CD player. Dozens of journals piled on the rug and light streaming in through a large window on the far side. A jumble of wires, drives and screens was set up in one corner, looking out into the forest — his studio. There was no bed, but a slouchy sofa was pushed up against the light blue wall.
Jisung picked up a CD and blew on it, put it in the tray and pressed 'play.' A symphony of violins and drums whispered from the speakers, almost too quiet to hear. He turned back to me, took my hands in his, and led me to the couch.
I took a seat, and he lay down with his head in my lap.
~ * ~
"So this is your room," I said. I was teasing my fingers through his hair, combing it up into a little ponytail. "What do you do here?"
He feigned deep thought. "I brood, mostly. Sometimes I sulk."
"Do you pout?"
"On occasion."
"Do you mope?"
"Only on weekends."
"Do you harrumph?"
"I have never harrumphed once in my life. Frankly, I'm insulted you'd think that of me."
I laughed. "Have you ever looked up at the sky and wondered if I was looking at it as well?"
"Are you kidding? Literally everything I see reminds me of you."
"What reminds you of me specifically?"
"The trees and grass and pavement and birds and air. And cats. And limeade. And wiseasses. Just everything."
I smiled, moved a lock of hair onto his face. He blew it away.
"Dense forests and squirrels remind me of you," I said.
"I think I'm more of a quokka."
"What the hell is a quokka?"
"A marsupial," he said brightly.
"What do they look like?"
He made a face. I suppose that was the answer to my question. I laughed, mystified and entertained, and poked at his cheeks.
"Anybody home?" a resonant voice asked from the hall. I could tell it was Felix immediately.
"Is it okay if they come in?" Jisung asked.
"It's okay."
He clapped his hands twice, and Felix and Jeongin peeked through the door on cue. Felix strode into the room, sat down next to me, and pinched Jisung's nostrils closed. (Jisung sputtered and slapped his hand.) Jeongin took a seat behind Felix on the arm of the couch.
"How's the day going so far?" Felix asked.
"How's the day going, love?" Jisung passed the question to me. He smiled as if he knew I wanted another chance to speak directly to his brothers.
"Great," I said. "I had fun in the photo room."
"I knew you would." Felix gestured toward his brain. "Aw, shoot! We should've shown him fifty-seven!"
"What's in fifty-seven?" I asked.
"It's not important," Jisung hedged.
"I'd say it was very important," Felix snickered.
"Felix," Jisung warned.
"He had a perm," Jeongin squeaked.
"Jeongin!" Jisung whined.
I just stared down at him, trying to picture his shiny black hair with curls.
Jeongin tapped Felix on the arm.
"Oh, right, right," Felix said. "There's gonna be a storm tonight — good baseball weather. We're gonna play." His sharp topaz eyes switched to me. "And Minho should come along."
Jisung was suddenly sitting up, lips sucked into his mouth, hesitant. "What do you think, Minho?"
"Um. I don't know. Will I have to play?"
"Imagine that!" Felix laughed. He exploded his hands and made a fart noise with his mouth.
"Er, no." Jisung shoved Felix's face. "You would watch — if you wanted to go. There's no pressure."
"What would I get out of it?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"The pleasure of watching Jisung be an overconfident dumbass," Felix said.
"The honour of watching Felix get a baseball stuck in his mouth," Jisung replied.
"That was once! Let it go!"
"He almost swallowed it," Jeongin said to me. I grimaced.
"See, Minho?" Felix sighed. "You get all that and more."
"Hmph. Okay."
"Yes!" Felix whooped. Jeongin clapped his hands. "Attaboy, bro! You won't regret it!"
Felix was on his feet in an effortless bound, and the two of them disappeared out the door in half a second.
"You got a 'bro' from him already." Jisung moved closer and cuddled up against me. "I had to earn my bro like an Olympic medal."
I played absently with his frayed knees, eyes narrowed. "What did I just get myself into? Vampire baseball is weird, isn't it? Oh, god, am I the ball?"
He laughed. "You're not very aerodynamic, my love."
"How dare you."
He shrugged.
"You know I'm not sporty. I'm not gonna know what's going on."
"We don't have to go, you know."
"I know." I made a tunnel around my mouth and whispered in his ear. "I want to spend more time with them. I'll go."
"They can hear you, Minho."
"Butt out!" I yelled. I heard an echo of quiet cackles from all directions.
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sorry if i was terrible at writing skz kdjfsjdsk
bye <3