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Prompting is currently open. Prompting is open from 28 December 2024 to 19 January 2025.
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"the poem begins not where the knife enters, but where the blade twists"
"beauty is terror"
"you'll just have to taste me, when he's kissing you"
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. For this round, every prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, do whatever. Steal from a literary classic, or copy a hit tweet.
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ex-friends to the end, better off as lovers
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: ambiguous relationships, idolverse or celebrity-adjacent, the one you got away from or the one that got away?
Do Not Wants: None
Prompt:
[FILL] my favourite what if, my best i'll never know
Major Tags: sex references
Additional Tags: ambiguous relationship, post-disbandment, celebrities, complicated feelings with a dash of professional resentment
Permission to remix: please ask
***
Don’t watch the interview today.
It’s a stupid message, really. Seokmin knows that Seungkwan knows that Seokmin doesn’t have a show tomorrow, and that his plans for tonight involve lounging in front of the TV and a bottle of red wine, and that he’s nothing if not a little desperate.
So he ignores it, like he ignores a lot of messages these days. He sprawls out on the couch, swigging wine straight from the bottle. He watches as Minghao nods along with whatever this interviewer is saying. He notices the crisp lines of his bejewelled blazer, the way his hands rest on his knee, one leg crossed over the other, long fingers interlocking. The way he sits in interviews hasn’t changed, despite all these years—the only thing that’s changed is that Seokmin is no longer next to him.
“So, you took a pretty long hiatus after Seventeen split. What did you do with that time?”
Minghao hums. “I suppose I just took some time out, figured out what I wanted to do with myself. I’d trained for so long and then spent so much time as a performer that I needed the break to decide what I wanted my future to look like. Obviously, I decided on music in the end, but there was a period where I considered just being a full-time dancer, or even heading back to China and focusing my career there.”
Seokmin scoffs, even though nobody can hear it. What Minghao actually did during his hiatus was push Seokmin onto a bed and thrust into him frantically, or look up with big gleaming eyes as Seokmin put hands on his soft skin, or wrap his arms around Seokmin’s waist while insisting that would be the last time.
Of course, one time it actually was the last time. When Minghao finally got his shit together and decided he wanted a solo music career, he told Seokmin that it was finally time to put everything to an end. Seokmin wanted to point out that it didn’t make sense, that just because Minghao wanted a solo career that didn’t mean they had to stop seeing each other, that Minghao couldn’t replace what they had with a life of album promotions and interviews. But he didn’t. He let Minghao go. He wished him luck as Minghao’s fingertips seared the thin skin at his neck.
That’s why things turned out this way, after all—Minghao making it to TV interviews with major channels, Seokmin making his way through a whole bottle of wine on a weeknight.
“The split itself came as something of a shock,” says the interviewer. “It seemed like you guys were at the peak of your careers and your creative powers, so I think fans and media were pretty stunned when you decided to break up. Is it something you’re able to talk about now?”
Seokmin swears he sees Minghao’s fingers tighten for a microsecond, just on the edge of the frame. He can see his jaw set firmer, the strange energy that vibrates from his shoulders. It thrills him a little, seeing a part of Minghao’s crystal composure shatter. It thrills him, knowing that he’s probably the only one that’s noticed.
Minghao eventually replies, “Yes, I suppose so. It’s been long enough now that we can start being more open about it.”
Seokmin only realises he’s smiling at the TV when he moves to take another sip of wine. Maybe it’s mean of him, but he can’t bring himself to care much. When they were together, Seokmin was always the one who was better with awkward questions. He knew how to deflect, to lighten the mood with a silly joke. He was the one who could do the warm smile, the one who could always make the interviewer feel like they were on the same team. It makes something flicker in his core, knowing that even if Minghao’s the one on the fancy chair, there are some things he still can’t manage, some instances where he would be better off with Seokmin.
“And besides,” Minghao continues, “it’s not like we don’t talk to each other. We’re still friends, above everything else. We can talk about these things.”
Seokmin doesn’t even have to look at his phone to know that the last time he texted Minghao was five months ago. An easy lie. Maybe Minghao has spoken to the others more.
“Right, that’s good to hear,” the interviewer responds. “It’s actually interesting, because there was a lot of speculation about the group dynamic. With you specifically, there was a lot of intrigue surrounding your bond with your bandmate Dokyeom. Do you have any thoughts about how that relationship was scrutinised?”
Oh. Seokmin feels his bones grow heavy, weighing him down, pressing him further into the give of the couch. He can’t even bring himself to swig some more wine.
Minghao chuckles politely, the sound thin and reedy. Seokmin doesn’t see his fingers tighten.
“It’s funny,” he says, “the amount of people who think they know everything. Just because we smile and wave and put ourselves in front of a camera. Dokyeom and I are people too, you know, not just a pretty picture for a tabloid. I don’t really like being gossip fodder, and I don’t think he does either. All I’ll say is… you can see whatever you want when you look at us, but that doesn’t make it real.”
Seokmin can’t do it anymore. He switches off the TV, lets the silence crackle in his ears. The lump of shame and self-disgust in his stomach grows larger and larger.
Because the thing is, Minghao’s wrong. If the fans or the media or anyone were seeing… anything between him and Seokmin, they were only seeing what was plainly in front of them. Minghao was always the one who was more scared of the prying eyes. He even asked Seokmin to tone it down a few times. But that wasn’t possible. Seokmin may be a good actor, but he couldn’t pretend. There are photos out there of him looking at Minghao like the world revolves around him, with sugar and honey and pure molten want dripping from his gaze. There are interviews and videos of him talking about Minghao, mouth filling with candied praises. There are the casual touches on camera that only happen more often over the years. All of these are the scraps that Seokmin has carelessly thrown to the vultures, and they’re still circling, even though Seokmin hasn’t touched Minghao in forever. Even now that Minghao’s on his own, now that Seokmin is practically a nobody, people still swarm, casting their ravenous eyes over them, gluttonous in their quest for more information, more feeling, more anything.
And now Minghao says it wasn’t real. But the opposite is true, and of course that’s the problem. If Seokmin had been more careful, if he had kept all his emotion inside his heart instead of spilling onto his sleeve, maybe he would still be with Seventeen today. Maybe he would be with Minghao today. But no. Minghao is happy and alone, Seokmin is empty and lonely, and the vultures are still swirling, still hungry.
Seokmin brings the bottle of wine to his lips, only to find it empty. God. Maybe Seungkwan was right all along.
Re: [FILL] my favourite what if, my best i'll never know
Re: [FILL] my favourite what if, my best i'll never know
Re: [FILL] my favourite what if, my best i'll never know
Re: [FILL] my favourite what if, my best i'll never know
Re: [FILL] my favourite what if, my best i'll never know
Re: [FILL] my favourite what if, my best i'll never know