Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Junhui Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: screen writer wonwoo, actor junhui, shared history, reunions....and rooftops. Permission to remix: Please ask
***
“Déjà vu.”
Wonwoo glances over his shoulder to address the intruder. He would've been startled if he hadn't expected Junhui to find him. He's always had a talent for discovering Wonwoo’s hideouts.
“Shouldn’t you be downstairs? The party is in your honour.”
“I remember coming up to Jeonghan-sunbae’s roof to find you hiding away from the crowd,” Junhui answers instead, joining him by the railing.
Yoon Jeonghan. Bright. Dazzling. An aspiring actor. Junhui idolised him so much, he’d followed right in Jeonghan’s footsteps. Jeonghan made it, but Junhui made it bigger, and Wonwoo resented everyone’s golden-haired angel for planting the seeds of dream in Junhui’s impressionable mind.
Every time Junhui had dragged him to Jeonghan’s, he would tell the same lie: it will be fun, Wonwoo-yah! I promise.
"The others must be looking for you." Junhui's the type of person whose absence gets noticed, after all. "Go, celebrate with them."
"Why can't I celebrate with you? Has it been troublesome, having me around?"
"Quite the contrary. It’s been a pleasure working with you, Junhui-ssi,” Wonwoo responds, ignoring the bait in Junhui's voice.
Of course, he's leaving out a good portion of the truth. But what's Wonwoo to say? Did you know, I wrote the main character based on you? When they cast you to play him, I got drunk. Alone, in my room, on the brand of beer you advertised.
Junhui laughs, hollow. "That’s the last thing I want to hear from you."
Wonwoo grits his teeth. Right. Why does he even try?
“I was being nice."
Every summer his colleagues stick him with the new interns—according to them, he’s patient and accommodating. He doesn’t know where those characteristics go where Junhui is concerned. He doesn’t know where anything goes where Junhui is concerned.
"Not the compulsory courtesy, Wonwoo-yah. The Junhui-ssi."
Oh. Wonwoo supposes he has gotten used to addressing Junhui formally over the past three months. It wasn't something he said intentionally to draw a line between them. The crystalline silence holds strong until Junhui clears his throat, shattering it.
"Shooting in Korea is tough."
“Which part? Being away from home or speaking Korean?”
"Where’s home?"
Home should be here. Home could have been here. But when Junhui said, it will only be a year, Wonwoo-yah. I promise, one had turned into five turned into ten.
It's not about home, then. That leaves the second option.
"You sound like a native these days," Wonwoo offers kindly.
Junhui gazes at the moon. “You know, Wonwoo-yah... the problem with having learned a language from someone is remembering them in every word they ever taught you.”
He waits for the other shoe to drop.
“And you, well, you were hello. There is no escaping you.”
Escaping him? Wonwoo wants to laugh. That sounds absurd. Escaping Wonwoo is easy. Effortless, even. He’s not the one with his face in every third C-drama, every second ad during prime hours, every billboard from Wonwoo’s office in Mapo to his apartment in Gwangjin.
“That was a good line,” Wonwoo comments. “I should write it down.”
Junhui's mood doesn't lighten up. "I wished you had told me sooner."
"Told you what?"
He turns to Wonwoo, leaning sideways against the railing. “That hello also means goodbye.”
The weight of his gaze pins Wonwoo to his place. Junhui stares at him like Wonwoo's something he had rediscovered and is at the brink of losing once more. Wonwoo relaxes his fingers. He hadn't realised he'd gathered them into fists. There is no escaping you. Why couldn't he just carry Wonwoo with him, then? They could have saved themselves some pain.
"One can argue correlation does not imply causation," Wonwoo finds his voice again. "Let's say one does cause the other, just to entertain the thought—how do we know which one is the root, which is the branch? Does hello mean goodbye, or does goodbye open up the possibility for another hello?"
Junhui considers this.
Then he says, “Hello, Jeon Wonwoo.”
He has a nervous smile on, but Wonwoo recognises this smile better than the ones he shows to the cameras.
“I want to take you out.” His lips are trembling, eyes star-bright under the silvery moonlight. The constellation on his face, Wonwoo wants to trace them with his fingers. “Let's have that date we should have had a decade ago. We can go to our usual place, order our usual meals, have our usual conversation.”
In theory, the plan is sound. But ten years is a long time and Wonwoo has actively avoided the area since Junhui’s packed his bags to shoot his first movie in Wuxi.
"The place’s probably been closed for years."
"No, it’s open."
Wonwoo raises a brow. "How do you know?"
“Because I went there to check,” Junhui answers, confidence seemingly returned to his person. “Last night.”
There's nowhere to run now. Wonwoo can no longer hide behind the excuse of distance, not when Junhui is close enough to touch. To hold. To kiss.
Perhaps third time's the charm.
"What do you say, Wonwoo-yah?"
So Wonwoo lets himself fall into an old and familiar trap, one set by hope and Junhui’s beguiling words:
[FILL] night reminiscin'
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: screen writer wonwoo, actor junhui, shared history, reunions....and rooftops.
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
“Déjà vu.”
Wonwoo glances over his shoulder to address the intruder. He would've been startled if he hadn't expected Junhui to find him. He's always had a talent for discovering Wonwoo’s hideouts.
“Shouldn’t you be downstairs? The party is in your honour.”
“I remember coming up to Jeonghan-sunbae’s roof to find you hiding away from the crowd,” Junhui answers instead, joining him by the railing.
Yoon Jeonghan. Bright. Dazzling. An aspiring actor. Junhui idolised him so much, he’d followed right in Jeonghan’s footsteps. Jeonghan made it, but Junhui made it bigger, and Wonwoo resented everyone’s golden-haired angel for planting the seeds of dream in Junhui’s impressionable mind.
Every time Junhui had dragged him to Jeonghan’s, he would tell the same lie: it will be fun, Wonwoo-yah! I promise.
"The others must be looking for you." Junhui's the type of person whose absence gets noticed, after all. "Go, celebrate with them."
"Why can't I celebrate with you? Has it been troublesome, having me around?"
"Quite the contrary. It’s been a pleasure working with you, Junhui-ssi,” Wonwoo responds, ignoring the bait in Junhui's voice.
Of course, he's leaving out a good portion of the truth. But what's Wonwoo to say? Did you know, I wrote the main character based on you? When they cast you to play him, I got drunk. Alone, in my room, on the brand of beer you advertised.
Junhui laughs, hollow. "That’s the last thing I want to hear from you."
Wonwoo grits his teeth. Right. Why does he even try?
“I was being nice."
Every summer his colleagues stick him with the new interns—according to them, he’s patient and accommodating. He doesn’t know where those characteristics go where Junhui is concerned. He doesn’t know where anything goes where Junhui is concerned.
"Not the compulsory courtesy, Wonwoo-yah. The Junhui-ssi."
Oh. Wonwoo supposes he has gotten used to addressing Junhui formally over the past three months. It wasn't something he said intentionally to draw a line between them. The crystalline silence holds strong until Junhui clears his throat, shattering it.
"Shooting in Korea is tough."
“Which part? Being away from home or speaking Korean?”
"Where’s home?"
Home should be here. Home could have been here. But when Junhui said, it will only be a year, Wonwoo-yah. I promise, one had turned into five turned into ten.
It's not about home, then. That leaves the second option.
"You sound like a native these days," Wonwoo offers kindly.
Junhui gazes at the moon. “You know, Wonwoo-yah... the problem with having learned a language from someone is remembering them in every word they ever taught you.”
He waits for the other shoe to drop.
“And you, well, you were hello. There is no escaping you.”
Escaping him? Wonwoo wants to laugh. That sounds absurd. Escaping Wonwoo is easy. Effortless, even. He’s not the one with his face in every third C-drama, every second ad during prime hours, every billboard from Wonwoo’s office in Mapo to his apartment in Gwangjin.
“That was a good line,” Wonwoo comments. “I should write it down.”
Junhui's mood doesn't lighten up. "I wished you had told me sooner."
"Told you what?"
He turns to Wonwoo, leaning sideways against the railing. “That hello also means goodbye.”
The weight of his gaze pins Wonwoo to his place. Junhui stares at him like Wonwoo's something he had rediscovered and is at the brink of losing once more. Wonwoo relaxes his fingers. He hadn't realised he'd gathered them into fists. There is no escaping you. Why couldn't he just carry Wonwoo with him, then? They could have saved themselves some pain.
"One can argue correlation does not imply causation," Wonwoo finds his voice again. "Let's say one does cause the other, just to entertain the thought—how do we know which one is the root, which is the branch? Does hello mean goodbye, or does goodbye open up the possibility for another hello?"
Junhui considers this.
Then he says, “Hello, Jeon Wonwoo.”
He has a nervous smile on, but Wonwoo recognises this smile better than the ones he shows to the cameras.
“I want to take you out.” His lips are trembling, eyes star-bright under the silvery moonlight. The constellation on his face, Wonwoo wants to trace them with his fingers. “Let's have that date we should have had a decade ago. We can go to our usual place, order our usual meals, have our usual conversation.”
In theory, the plan is sound. But ten years is a long time and Wonwoo has actively avoided the area since Junhui’s packed his bags to shoot his first movie in Wuxi.
"The place’s probably been closed for years."
"No, it’s open."
Wonwoo raises a brow. "How do you know?"
“Because I went there to check,” Junhui answers, confidence seemingly returned to his person. “Last night.”
There's nowhere to run now. Wonwoo can no longer hide behind the excuse of distance, not when Junhui is close enough to touch. To hold. To kiss.
Perhaps third time's the charm.
"What do you say, Wonwoo-yah?"
So Wonwoo lets himself fall into an old and familiar trap, one set by hope and Junhui’s beguiling words:
“It will be just like before, I promise.”