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byunbaekby · 4 years ago

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Mythomaniac—childhood best friend!haechan x female reader.

summary: he’s your best friend, he’s always been. but sometimes you have to stop gazing through those rose colored lenses to see donghyuck for who he really is; a liar. warnings: recreational drug use, language, hyuck being an asshole maybe, depictions of a toxic relationship, peer pressure, happy ending? what’s that genres: childhood best friends to almost lovers (?), angst, fluff if you squint, coming of age word count: 10.5k author’s message: big thank you @yongiefilms and @gardenpebble�� for proofreading this and giving me the confidence to post this. this has been a work in progress for a long time, and i hope you all enjoy it! this story is inspired by the songs, “liar” by leon and “i swear i’ll never leave again” by keshi. i would recommend listening to these!

The first time Lee Donghyuck lies to you, you’re both eight years old and fighting over the playground swing.

It’s your turn, you argue, kicking the floor as tears well in your eyes. Recess is over in five minutes and you’ve been waiting for Juna to get off since it started! But then this random dark-haired boy suddenly shows up and is going to take it away from you.

“It’s my turn!” You screech again, on the edge of a temper tantrum.

Your shrill tone causes Donghyuck to wince, and being much more mannered than you, he sighs in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll push you. Tomorrow, you push me. Okay?”

Sniffling, you nod and make your way onto the swing. When you jump up and land your bottom on the seat, your toes barely brush the ground. You grasp tightly onto the swing, looking over your shoulder at the boy who’s disappeared behind you. “Not too hard, okay? Not too high.”

“I won’t push too hard.” You’re still unconvinced.

“Promise?”

His response comes out as smooth as honey. “Promise.” His hands are already on your back, pushing you forward ever so lightly. It’s okay at first, and a bright smile spreads across your lips as you register the breeze fanning across your face.

A boisterous laugh leaves your lips, like sparkling stars in the dark of the night. For a moment your small childish world is overrun by excitement and enjoyment; the only thing that exists in this moment is you and the swing. From the height you’re at you can almost see the whole playground.

Wait—the whole playground? Were you already up this high?

When you reach the highest peak of your pendulum you look down, and your eyes widen at the distance from the ground that you are. Your bright laugh now turns into a terrified shriek. “Too high! Too high! Let me down!”

Donghyuck is, at first, unaware of just how frightened you are, but when you start flailing around in fear, his eyes widen. It all happens so fast. You swing back and forth a few times but your limbs are flying around so impulsively in your moment of fear that the boy has to scoot away so he isn’t hit by your flailing figure. Then one more time, you’re at the highest point of the swing when your frightened flailing becomes too much and before either of you can register, you’re flying off the swing and freefalling toward the ground.

He’s afraid to look so he turns away, but your loud crying quickly turns him back to you as the recess bell rings, signaling the end of your playtime. When he sees you on the ground, his first instinct is to run away. But then he sees you grasping your leg and crying, crying, crying.

God, you sure do cry a lot.

“Are you… are you okay?” He asks, running to kneel beside you.

You shake your head furiously, still grasping onto your ankle which burns with pain. It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt in all eight years of your life. Tears freely flow down the apples of your cheeks.

On the verge of panicking, Donghyuck tears your arm from where you’re grasping onto your leg in the moment of searing pain, and swings it over his shoulder. “Come on,” he says, as though encouraging not you, but himself. With the strength that a normal eight year old wouldn’t have, he stands and pulls you to your feet. Your eyes wince in pain as sharpness shoots up your right leg, but alongside Donghyuck, the two of you walk to the nurse’s office.

He had lied. He said he wouldn’t push you too hard. He promised.

Your parents had told you since you were a little kid, fibbing about whether or not you ate the last cookie in the cookie jar, that lying was bad. But that day, you find that maybe lying isn’t always bad.

Because Donghyuck’s lie brings you a new friend.

“Do you think things will change, Hyuck?”

Your sudden question causes him to open his eyes from where he lays in the grass. When he does, it’s as though the stars in the sky are reflected on his orbs. But no, that’s just your crush on your best friend making itself prevalent once again.

“Things change everyday, Y/N.” His answer leaves you unsatisfied, so you roll your eyes, laying back down beside him in the grass. The playground is only a few feet away, but who are you to play at the park? You’re thirteen years old, for God’s sake.

“I mean in high school. The first day of school is already next week, aren’t you worried?” You turn to him, eyebrows furrowing at his relaxed expression.

His chapped lips purse in mild consideration, before shrugging his t-shirt clad shoulders. Carefree Donghyuck and worrisome Y/N, that’s your dynamic.

“It’s just high school. Same people, different classes. Why are you worried?”

“It’s just—” You sigh, eyes staring up into the endless dark abyss of the sky. “Things change. People change. You’ve seen the teen movies! The childhood best friends go to high school, one of them is super smart and becomes a nerd, the other one goes and does drugs.”

All you get in response is a laugh. Donghyuck’s laughter is something you’ve become accustomed to over the years. He has the light, boisterous laughter where something is so absolutely funny that he can’t help but screech. There’s the mid-tier average laugh, which he often lets out around relatives to be polite, but it comes off a bit awkward. Finally, he has the low chuckle in his throat he does when he finds something amusing and almost pitiful—it’s almost always reserved for you.

“We can definitely tell which one of us is which,” he jokes, which causes you to turn and slap his chest lightly, playfully.

“Drugs are bad,” you respond gently, reeling back into your space on the grass. Hyuck doesn’t understand: he’s easygoing, an extrovert with a sunny disposition. He’ll have no problem making friends in high school. You, on the other hand, won’t have it so easy. You can’t lose your one and only best friend. Wrapping yourself in your hoodie, you sigh. Hyuck registers this pitiful sound and settles down a bit; he knows when you’re really upset about something.

Suddenly scooching closer to you on the grass, he speaks softly. “Listen.” You do. “Nothing is going to change. Not between us. Things will happen, we’ll meet people, but we’re best friends forever, okay?” Now he looks straight to you rather than the sky, and you stare back. There’s something in his eyes, determination clear as he speaks. “I promise there will come a day when we grow up and become old, that we’ll come back to this park and stargaze just like now. By then, we’ll be able to drive ourselves, and your mom won’t have to wait for us,” he says, nudging his head toward the curb where your mom sits in her car. This makes you laugh: it really is amusing, your mom waiting for the two of you. “So shut up and stop doubting.”

Hyuck knows your insecurity and that’s what makes him your best friend. Your only best friend in the whole world. Quietly you respond with a question, digging your hand out of your hoodie sweater paws. “You really promise?”

Easily does he intertwine his finger with yours before leaning back into his spot. “Do I ever break my promises?”

The answer is yes, because a month later it’s a Friday afternoon when Hyuck does just that—break his promise.

Your first month of high school wasn’t as bad as you had initially thought it would be, really. Your teachers seemed nice for the most part, and you had managed to make a friend. A real friend, other than Hyuck. His name is Mark, and you only meet him because he’s the TA for your biology class. He’s a year older and not completely comfortable speaking Korean yet, but you’ll take what you can get!

Sadly, you don’t have any classes with your best friend. You don’t even share the same lunch period, and it saddens you that you can’t pay witness to Hyuck laughing so hard to shoot carrot bits from his nose anymore. He made friends in his classes though, and tells you about them. Most of them are upperclassmen… it’s not a surprise that your outgoing friend would be so compatible with older kids. So, you don’t get to see him that often. But that’s what the time outside of school is spent for: your best friend.

The two of you are supposed to meet at the park like you normally do on Fridays. It’s not a long walk from your school, and you’re halfway there when your phone vibrates in your pocket. Fishing it out, your eyes focus on the message lit on the screen.

[ Hyuckie ] : Jaehyun hyung invited me to hang out with the guys at his house. Sorry! Next week, I promise.

You sigh.

It’s not the first time he’s rainchecked you for that group of rambunctious older boys. The first week of school, you were supposed to get ice cream when he suddenly pulled up with those guys in tow. Just last weekend, he had promised to take you roller skating for your birthday, only to cancel when you already had your shoes on.

It’s like he has no time for you anymore.

So with a bitter huff, you send a passive-aggressive response and turn on your heels, trudging the rest of the way home.

When the bell rings, you slip your airpods into your ears and put your hood on. Finally, the day is over. Sadly, it’s only Tuesday so you still have a ways to go before the weekend.

Music rings in your ears as you tread down the halls of your high school, hands tucked into your hoodie pocket. It’s quite hot outside, winter transforming into the buds of spring. Spring and the oncoming heat make it more difficult for you to limit your fashion to hoodies.

When you push open the front building doors, the heat hits you, but you immediately walk toward a little shaded area under a tree near the courtyard. It’s where you always wait for him after school.

As you make your way there, the group of boys leaning against the wall don’t fail to catch your attention. With their brightly coloured hair and dark shaded eyes, it’s hard to miss them.

You have to reject the urge to visibly scoff at their appearance—they don’t even go here anymore, having graduated years ago. Why do they still show up here and hang around like they own the place?

Even if they left the school a while back, they still have a vivid reputation at the school. Though you had never paid attention, there are a few you know. Taeyong, presumably the oldest with his bright red hair and clouded gaze. Johnny, who had quickly been recruited into this group of delinquents upon his transfer from Chicago. Among them are others who you don’t care at all about.

Though their gazes follow you as you walk directly across their line of sight, you ignore them and retreat to your spot. Flopping down, your bottom meets the grass and you lean your head back against the tree. Closing your eyes, music fills your ears as your eyes meet darkness. For a moment, it’s as though you can shut out the world and simply relish in your own company.

High school hasn’t changed you much, but the people around you have changed.

The moment passes soon enough, as you feel a light slap on your thigh causing you to open your eyes. Your gaze lands on the sight of your best friend, who plops down beside you. A gleeful smile spreads across your face as you take your airpod out.

“Mark,” you tsk. “You’re late.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though a smile rests on his face. “Mr. Moon wanted to talk to me about something.”

“What about?”

“Auditioning for the talent show.” You blink, your eyes widening a bit at his revelation. Mr. Moon runs the talent show every year; if Mark had caught his eye, there would be no doubt that he would get in, and maybe even win the show.

“Really? You should!”

“I don’t know,” he says, pursing his lips in thought. “Honestly I don’t think I’d be good enough.”

“Shut up, you will. Besides, it’s your last year, you’ll never know what could have been if you never try.” The thought sobers you a bit: because Mark is a year older than you, his senior year will soon be coming to an end. The idea of spending your final year without your best friend saddens you.

Speaking of what could have been, the same time that Mark shows up, someone else also makes an appearance.

Fleetingly your eyes flicker over the group in the corner. Lee Donghyuck joins the group, his purple hair falling over his eyes as he lets his backpack fall to the floor. You watch, lips pursed as Taeyong hands him a joint, then you turn away.

He doesn’t call himself Donghyuck anymore. Or Hyuck, or your best friend. He’s Haechan now.

“Hello, earth to Y/N,” Mark’s voice rings in your ear.

Shaking your head to rid your thoughts of what could have been, you look to your best friend. Black hair is more appropriate than purple, you decide then. “Hm?”

“I was telling you that I’m leaving, but you zoned out.” You know he has his job, shifting through vinyls at the record store, in twenty minutes. Slowly, you bob your head in a nod.

“Okay… Have fun at work.”

“I will. I work for the rest of the week but we’ll hang out this weekend, okay?” You nod in response. He’s been a bit busy recently, but you don’t worry too much about it. “Promise.”

Your smile must visibly falter a bit, even though you try not to let it show. Mark’s eyes immediately widen slightly—sometimes he forgets how you dislike promises. How they give you a sense of false hope, and how you’d rather not give them space in your heart to do so. “Sorry,” he sounds. He stands and places a hand on your shoulder with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you.”

Then he leaves, and you pop your music back into your ear. With a soft sigh you look out at the courtyard, at the students leaving and cars moving. Will there ever be anything more than this? You take in the sight: the students running across the yard to their friends, the school doors opening and closing, even the group of boys racketing in the corner of your vision.

Hyuck—or Haechan as he now calls himself, though you find the name to be dumb and pretentious—is the youngest of them all. It all started in freshman year, when he met them and the distance between the two of you grew. His promises had worn thin, and eventually the string of friendship between you ripped apart right before your eyes. You can’t say that you miss him.

Because you don’t miss Haechan, the replacement for the boy you once knew. You miss Hyuck.

Your best friend who snuck over to your house on his bike when you had gotten rejected by Huang Renjun. The person you could always trust to push you on the swings and know your limits.

But that’s not him anymore.

The thought puts a sour taste on your tongue so you turn your eyes away from the cloud surrounding them and close your eyes. You don’t need him anymore. All you need is the music in your ears and the warm sun soaking into your skin.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass, but suddenly the warmth disappears from your skin. Your eyes slide open and there he is, casting a shadow over you. The sun is gone, only cold filling your veins at the sight of the long-legged memory before you and the smell of weed filling your nose. You take your airpods out of your ears, sighing.

Your voice comes out harsher than you intend. “What do you want, Haechan?”

Your use of his name must catch him off guard. You’ve never called him that—even when you drifted apart, like lonely boats without anchors, you always called him Hyuck in your sweetest tone. Now all you reserve for him is indifference.

“Haechan?”

“That’s your name isn’t it?”

He blinks, eyes fluttering underneath his lavender fringes. “Oh—” Sheepishly, he nods. It’s unlike the normal persona he employs when walking around school. That Haechan is cocky, flirtatious. “It is.”

You’re not entirely sure what it is that ticks you off. Not him, but the memory of him. “I don’t want any weed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Haechan has the nerve to scoff. “No, that’s not what I’m asking.” You raise your eyebrow at him; he had left you in the dust when he decided to become one with those drug-doing law-breaking fools, yet he has the audacity to stand in front of you now. He takes a deep breath, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark ripped jeans, which definitely don’t fit the school dress code. “I want to ask if you want to hang out?”

“Hang out,” you repeat, eyebrow raised. You could almost scoff from how ridiculous it sounds.

“Yeah.” He nods. His eyes are big, almost sheepish, and for a second he looks like your old Donghyuck. Behind the chains, the hair dye, the eyeliner, and the weed scent, you wonder if he still is. “I promised you I’d take you skating, remember?”

“No, I don’t,” you lie curtly, rising to your feet. Skating, that was over three years ago. It’s upsetting, but something in the way he still remembers this broken promise pushes you to say your next words. “Fine.”

As though he hadn’t expected you to acquiesce so easily, he nods. “How about Saturday? I’ll pick you up at your house? You… you still live in the same place, right?” It’s both humorous and painful that he has to ask.

“Mhm.” You sling your backpack over your shoulder and stare at him. “6PM. Don’t be late. And leave the weed at home. You stink.”

With that, you turn on your heels and make your way home. Behind you, you can hear the group of rambunctious boys yelling, congratulating their youngest.

Saturday comes quicker than normal, and it’s nearing five when you’re still not dressed for your meeting with Haechan.

If it were four years ago, you would have thrown on a t-shirt and called it that. If you were hanging out with Mark, it would have been easy to just put on a hoodie and jeans. But something is different now.

Why are you nervous? You ask yourself as you stand before the mirror.

It’s not… a date, but something in you wants to dress up, to look nice. But why? You don’t own many fashionable items, and it’s not a date. You hold back a self-deprecating groan as you darken your lashes with mascara and slather some lip gloss over your lips. He doesn’t deserve it.

You had expected him to come to your door, but when Haechan pulls up to your house in his very own car, all he does is text you. You had deleted his number years ago. Had he kept your’s all this time? Is your contact name still the same?

Fluttering down the stairs in a pair of jeans and a nicer t-shirt, you have to stop to remind yourself not to get caught up in the moment. This isn’t a date.

“You drive now,” is your first comment as you slip into the passenger seat.

The air is dank, reminiscent of a clear weed smell but it’s masked, as though someone had tried to get rid of it. “You look nice,” he says.

All you say is, “Thanks,” then retire yourself to looking out the window. He drives you to the roller rink, the familiar streets sliding by. The ride is quiet, awkward. Four years ago, the two of you would have been chattering away.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot, you’re reconsidering why you even agreed to coming here with him. After he parks, you step out and walk ahead toward the entrance of the roller rink. He jogs to catch up with you, and it’s the first time you get a good look at his outfit.

He dons a blue flannel over a white t-shirt and blue skinny jeans. A chain hangs from his belt hook, and another by his neck. His hair is done up, unlike the purple fringe he wore over his eyes earlier in the week. The old Hyuck you knew was a fashion disaster.

“What’s up?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets again as the two of you fall into the line. You need something to do with your hands, and suddenly you regret attempting to dress nice; your hoodie was a lot more comfortable.

“Why did you bring me here?” You ask suddenly, turning to him.

“I told you,” Haechan responds. “I wanted to hang out. And I made a promise to you that I’d take you skating for your birthday, but I didn’t. I just want to lighten my conscience a bit.”

A laugh almost leaves your lips at this. His conscience?

“Does your conscience ignore the weed and loitering?”

“Loitering? When do I loiter?”

“No, not you.” You shake your head, correcting him. “Your friends. They don’t even go to school anymore, why are they always around? Waiting for you?”

He blinks, then shakes his head. “Taeyong and Doyoung hyung are helping Mr. Moon coordinate the talent show. They have meetings with him after school. Jaehyun hyung teaches a piano class after school and Johnny tags along.”

Somehow, his answers shock you. It’s hard to picture his “friends” helping out at the school. You don’t respond, and clearly he’s less happy than you to talk about his friends because he follows his words with, “Can we not talk about them? I wanted to catch up with you, not talk more about them.”

“Sorry,” you mumble half-heartedly as you approach the booth, grabbing your size in the roller skates. Then, you search for a spot to sit down and put them on. For a few moments before Haechan joins you with his own skates, you think to yourself, is he sincere? He keeps saying it, and you want to believe it. Does your old Hyuck, your best friend exist somewhere in there?

Haechan approaches you, his skates in hand. You’re focused on tying your own, but you manage to scoot over on the bench you’re in to make room for him to sit as well.

But he surprises you.

He kneels, placing his skates on the ground and before you know it, your fingers on the laces are replaced by his as he ties them into a tight knot. You look up to him, but all your eyes fall on is his face, tightened in focused concentration. “What are you…” You start.

When he finishes tying the last lace into a tight bow, he looks up to meet your eyes. “You should tie them tight. Your laces used to always fall out when we were younger.” Then the corner of his lip tips up into a smile, and you can swear your heart races.

It beats out of your chest and you’re suddenly vividly aware of the fact that his face is mere inches away from yours.

But as quickly as the realization hits you, the moment is over.

He pulls away, taking the seat next to you before putting on his own skates. When he finishes, he pulls you up by the hand to the skating area and you let him. Your legs are a little shaky, but he looks over to you with careful eyes. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

It’s not a promise, but it feels like one. Maybe, you decide, it’s okay to let down your walls and be with him. After all, he was, once upon a time, your best friend.

As much as you want to pull away from him, your legs are sliding, about to give out. You grip onto his arm with both hands, trying to keep your balance, and his hearty laugh is heard in your ear. In the midst of his laugh and your attempt to stand straight, your hand slides down to grasp his instead.

By the time you realize this, you’re already sliding halfway across the rink with gentle hesitant laughs on your lips. This is the first time you’ve talked to Donghyuck in years, yet it feels, you realize as your gaze down at your connected hands, as if you’d never stopped.

A couple hours later when you’ve both had more pizza than your stomachs can hold and both your knees are starting to bruise from how you’ve slipped onto them, Donghyuck brings you somewhere else.

Despite the curtain of dark over the town, you know where he’s taken you the moment he pulls into the street.

When he parks and you slide your feet out of the car to meet the grass, you look around and take in the appearance of this old place which hasn’t felt your presence in years. Your old park. Everything still looks the same, as if your late night stargazing sessions had never halted.

You’re still gazing when Donghyuck pulls you by the hand to the playground. “Come on,” he ushers.

“Hyuck, aren’t you a little old for the playground?” You question, not recognizing your slip.

He stops walking altogether and blinks at you, the light of the moon reflecting off his sparkling orbs. “You… You called me Hyuck.”

You hadn’t even noticed it yourself. Pursing your lips, you respond carefully. “Well… it is your name, isn’t it?” Somehow, your gaze finds your interlaced hands. By the time you look back up, you realize Donghyuck was also staring.

A soft smile graces the tips of his lips. “Yeah, it is.”

For a moment, a short moment, Haechan is forgotten. All that exists at the park with you is Donghyuck, your best friend since age eight when he had pushed you too hard on the swings and caused you to fracture your ankle. You had always blamed it on him in the following years, but it was never his fault.

It was always yours, for not being brave enough.

Even now, Hyuck pushes you on the swings after you give him a pointed look which clearly says, “Not too hard.” The force of his push reminds you how big of a role adrenaline once played in your life. Hyuck was your daily dose of adrenaline, of energy you never knew was missing from your life until it was gone. Now, he’s back again.

After a few minutes, the two of you find yourself lying on the grass gazing up at the stars, in a similar situation that your younger selves once experienced. You’re content to sit there staring at the glistening firmament above, but his velvet voice fills the silence between you.

“Is Mark a good best friend?”

His question catches you off guard. It could be a trick of your mind but is that… jealousy you hear in his tone? “Yeah, he is.” You nod, the cold breeze brushing your face. “He’s nice. Understanding… I’m just not looking forward to having to spend the next year without him after he graduates.”

“You don’t have to,” Hyuck replies quickly. You turn to meet his gaze, and find that he’s gazing at you with serious eyes. “You can spend it with me.”

The thought, however hopeful, causes a twinge of doubt to ignite within you. “What about the others?”

“What about them?”

“Are they good best friends?”

Like you, Hyuck takes a long moment to ponder over his answer. “They’re not my best friends,” he finally says when he comes to a conclusion. “They were always just placeholders. Just… people to spend time with.”

“Spend time as in vandalizing, smoking weed, and skipping school?”

He releases a scoff at your response, as though the idea sounded absurd to him as well. “Well… yeah. I guess that’s what it seems like.” You’ve never been the type to do those kinds of things, always too afraid of losing your self control for even a moment, so you ask: “What’s it like? Smoking weed?”

Your inquiry seems to throw him for a loop. You had always been quiet, comfortable living in a box which you knew to be safe. It was always him who had wanted to explore. He turns away from you and instead throws his gaze to the dark sky, though you remain watching him and the way the grass brushes his side profile from where he lays.

“It’s like… searching for something. You don’t quite know what you’re looking for. I don’t know—Nirvana, epiphanies, the meaning of life, or whatever. And for a second,” he pauses, his eyes matching the twinkle of the stars in the sky, but it’s a somber reflection. “When you reach that high, it’s… it’s amazing. It really is. You feel… calm. And relaxed, a bunch of things I’ve never felt before. But when you get used to it, and you come down from that high… it just feels… empty.”

Emptiness isn’t something you’d ever think Hyuck has experienced. In your memories he was always so bright-eyed and lighthearted, filling you up with everything you needed. Had you forgotten how to fill him up? Make him happy? Or, your hopeful heart suddenly asks, are you the emptiness in his heart? When he left you, was that when his heart had begun to feel hollow, as yours had? When had things changed so much, when had the two of you grown up? It seems just like yesterday that you were two little kids with hopes bigger than the world could hold, still playing on the playground.

Suddenly you lurch toward him, closing the space between you to lay shoulder to shoulder. The simple brush of your shoulder on his, a feeling that was once so familiar, speaks volumes to the both of you. “I wish things could go back to the way they were before.”

He sighs, a sound that’s supposed to somehow indicate that your words are easier said than done. “If only life was that easy.”

A thoughtful moment of silence passes over the two of you, the cold night air brushing on your bare arms. Your hoodies often kept you warm, but you don’t have them now. Instead, you have Donghyuck. “Are you cold?” He asks as he notices you shivering at a sudden strong gust of wind. You shake your head, not wanting him to give his flannel to you, but he does something else instead. “C’mere,” is all he says as he scoops you into his arms on the ground and presses your head into his chest.

You start to argue at first but you soon find yourself resting your head on the expanse of his chest. Eyes widened ever so slightly as you try to maintain the erratic beat of your heart, you whine quietly, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We used to do this all the time.”

“Yeah,” you scoff gently with a roll of your eyes. “When we were ten and forgot our jackets.”

“Not much difference,” Hyuck responds. Suddenly a teasing tone occupies his voice, almost reminiscent of Haechan’s persona. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

You have the decency to be shocked, hitting his chest softly, playfully. “As if.”

He says things aren’t much different, but they are. Back then, things were simpler and easier. Your best friend was just your best friend. But now, seven years later, he’s a boy and an attractive one—that much you can admit. And, you have a history that makes your heart wrench; you had come to terms with the fact that you would no longer be able to envelope yourself in Hyuck’s bear hugs anymore, that sleepovers with him would be further nonexistent.

Hyuck doesn’t say anything after your hasty response, and it seems like he’s satisfied sitting in the silence with you, but you aren’t. Gently you speak up, “Hyuck.”

“Hmm,” he responds, eyes closed rather than gazing at the star-stricken sky.

“What’s your dream?”

He takes a moment to think about it. A couple seconds pass with his eyes still closed, and you turn your head to gaze up at his contemplative expression with tufts of dark grass tickling his ears. A couple minutes pass like this.

You’re almost convinced he’s fallen asleep right there, so you prod once again. “So?”

Hyuck takes a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Everyone has a dream,” your brows furrow.

The next words to leave your best friend’s mouth sadden you to no end. His voice is soft but his tone is tired, as if he has all but given up. “I think somewhere along the line I stopped dreaming, wishing for things. It’s not the reality I’ve grown to know.”

By the end of the night, when the two of you arrive at your home, you’re starting to believe that a reconciliation with your best friend is possible. All these years, they were just… a break. A time for the two of you to learn yourselves and meet new people.

As he walks you to your front door, swinging your interlaced pinkies between the two of you, you speak first. The night, however sudden and strange, was nice. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” he quickly replies as he turns to face you though he doesn’t let go of your hand, your pinkies hooked around each other like a little unsaid pledge.

“I really missed you,” you confess. Before tonight you had never allowed yourself to consider how much you missed your best friend, how his absence left a gap in your life. “I want to do it again sometime.”

Hyuck’s eyes widen just a bit, and he blinks as though surprised. “You do?”

Giddily you bite down on your lower lip and nod. “I really do.”

His shocked eyes soften like sweet yellow honey, and he mirrors your smile. Here with the front porch light shining on his tanned skin and some lingering grass strands tangled in his hair, he doesn’t look like the cruel Haechan you’ve seen over your time in high school. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Why are you saying thank you?” you ask, a slight smile on your lips. “It should be me saying thank you.”

“I’m just glad you came along,” he explains, tapping his foot gently against the cement. “Taeyong would have gotten me in trouble if I hadn’t asked you to come.”

You blink. What?

“I’m just really glad you agreed to go out with me today. Even though I had no choice, I think it was really good for us, and I’d love to do it a—”

“Hyuck.”

He stops suddenly, having begun to ramble, and stares at you. “What?”

Anxiety begins to creep into your stomach, building a dark heavy pit. As your breath quickens, coming to your realization, you fall into the dark abyss of that hole. You tear your gaze away from him, your eyebrows forming a tight line as the gears in your head turn.

As he recognizes the way your chest starts to rise and fall rapidly, Hyuck leans toward you. “Y/N, are you—”

“What do you mean, you had no choice?”

“You’re shaking, you should go inside—”

You tear your hand from his, trying your best to control your accelerated breathing. Finally looking back at him, you feel despair begin to bubble inside you. “What the hell do you mean, you had no choice, Donghyuck?”

The look on his face is almost dumbstruck. He opens his mouth but no words come out. He closes it quickly, then parts his lips again after a moment. “I… I thought you knew…”

“Knew what?”

“That Taeyong hyung made me do it.”

If it’s possible for your entire world to crash in the fraction of a moment, it must be this. Suddenly your lungs feel heavy with burden and your eyes water, watching your ill-fated hope shatter before you. You want to scream at him, to yell at him, but you can’t find your voice. By your side, your hand which was once occupied by his, feels awfully, horribly cold.

Hyuck, on the other hand, still looks stupefied that you had no idea. Stuttering over his words, uncharacteristic of him, he continues desperately. “I-I… They know about us, about our friendship, and Taeyong hyung told me to ask you on a date or…or he’d make me deliver his next package. I already got caught once, I couldn’t get caught again! I couldn’t risk it,” he pleads.

Weed. That’s what this is all about.

“It was just for fun, they thought it was funny.”

Your throat feels dry, parched like the desert, and your voice feels like sandpaper as you speak. “I didn’t think it was funny.” A lonesome tear breaks the barrier, sliding down your cheek pitifully before being followed by another.

Clearly startled by the course of the conversation, he desperately reaches out to grab your hand. “Y/N, please let me explain—”

You whip your hand back, his touch making your skin crawl with betrayal.

“You’ve done enough.”

Of all the things he could say, he says the worst. “I thought you heard everything that day, in the courtyard.”

“I…” You start thinking back foggily. “I had my airpods on.” The pained look he wears at his realization of this would have been laughable if your tears weren’t threatening to flow down your cheeks.

All you want to do is run. Run inside, run away from him, run from this night and pretend that nothing had ever happened. But for some reason, your feet are stuck to the cement as though something holds you down. Burden-like weights, holding you down.

“I, I’m sorry,” he beseeches, only making it worse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You want to yell at him, to curse him into the next life for playing with you. For not knowing your character enough to think that for even a second, you’d be okay being a pawn in his game of dealing and dares. For giving you hope, even the slightest burning sliver. But you can’t raise your voice at him. Rather than fury, it’s sadness which erupts in your chest. You cannot find it in yourself to scream. Because he did, he did hurt you.

This must be the emptiness he was talking about.

Any sense of blankness you thought you knew before was nothing to this. As if your heart and mind itself have been ripped out of you, you’re overcome by a horrible, horrible hollowness. Then, looking at his pitiful figure, you realize that you want nothing to do with Lee Donghyuck any longer. Whoever he is, good or bad, best friend or stranger, Haechan or Hyuck, he is no longer important to you.

Wiping your tears against the back of your hand with an indignant sniffle, you scowl at him, but there is no anger, no resentment. Just exhaustion. You’re tired of his lies.

“Leave me alone, Haechan. Leave me alone, and don’t ever bother me again. I can’t believe I—” You stop yourself. You can’t believe you had believed, even for the shortest moment, that things would be okay. No, not with him, nothing would ever be okay. Nothing would ever be true, nothing would ever be pure. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how close you were to falling into him.

All you do is stare once more at his cowardly figure then turn away, hiding your tears which you refuse to let him see. Just as you’re about to turn to disappear into your house however, he reaches for your wrist.

“Y/N, please—”

“Don’t,” you say softly. If he truly is your best friend, if he had ever known you for even a second, he would be able to recognize the pain in your voice, the fragility with which you’re about to break.

But if he was ever your best friend, by now you can never truly know.

For a third and final time, you tug your hand from his touch. “Don’t. I mean it.”

Then you disappear into your home, flying up the stairs to the confusion of your parents, and leave Donghyuck there alone, stranded and in the dark.

There was a reason why you never liked parties growing up, and why you tried avoiding them at all cost, but today is different. Today is for Mark, you have to suck it up and enjoy yourself at least for him. Besides, since hitting twenty three you’ve been trying to “adult” more, and that means putting other people’s desires before your own.

You’re sitting on a couch in the bar, clutching a water bottle when you hear Mark’s voice in your ear. “Hey, you made it!”

Immediately you turn and feel your lips spread into a wide smile at the sight of your best friend looking completely ecstatic. Standing quickly, you collapse into his open arms. He pulls you tightly into a hug and you smile feeling his familiar embrace.

“Hey, you,” you say when you pull away. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you, really.”

The beaming smile he wears back at you makes your heart warm. “Thanks, and thanks for coming! I thought you weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

“I cleared my schedule for you,” you admit cheekily.

“Aw, I must be so special,” responds Mark playfully, pulling you in for another quick hug. Mark has just been signed onto a record company as a producer. It’s only his biggest dream ever, and you couldn’t be prouder. His record label had insisted on throwing a party to welcome their newest hire, and from the smile on his face, it seemed like all his dreams had come true.

“But enough about me, how are you?”

With your busy post-college schedule, you’ve had little time to meet your best friend. “Just the usual. Work, eat, sleep.”

“Hey, at least you sleep, I’m up all night, every night working on music.”

“I believe that was your career choice,” you laugh and roll your eyes.

Mark laughs along with you. “I guess you’re right.” He suddenly eyes the water bottle in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re not drinking at my party.”

“I—”

“No excuses! It’s a Saturday night, don’t say you have work tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Sounds like an excuse, you better go to the bar right now and get a drink.”

“I’m—”

“Now!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” You finally acquiesce, rolling your eyes at your friend’s behavior. “Do you want me to grab you something?”

He ponders it momentarily, sitting down in the spot on the couch you occupied earlier. “Just one of what you’re getting,” he says, already making conversation with the other person on the couch, one of his new coworkers.

You make your way over to the bar counter, basically shoving past the numerous people occupying the bar. With the prestige of the company that Mark has just been hired into, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were brushing shoulders with celebrities in your search for the bar.

When you finally find a spot at the crowded counter, you attempt to speak over the music to one of the two bartenders maintaining the counter. Flashing your ID at him, you sound, “Two Negronis, one with light ice!” You’re in the mood for gin tonight. You would have gotten your typical gin on the rocks, but you’re feeling a bit fancy and with the open bar, you’re fine not paying for the extra pizazz of a Negroni.

The one you originally speak to seems occupied but he hears you, nodding at you. As you pull out your phone to wait for your order, you register him calling out to someone, likely the other bartender with him. “Take care of that,” he says, likely referring to your order.

Only a few moments pass of you attempting to type out a text until you hear it.

Though it’s not loud, you hear it. Above the music, above the crowd.

“Y/N?”

Eyes leaving your phone screen, you find yourself face to face, eye to eye, with Lee Donghyuck himself. In front of you on the other side of the bar counter, clad in a dark apron and clutching a tall bottle of gin, with his light brain hair, tendrils falling over his eyes, it’s almost like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him. Your gaze hasn’t fallen on him in years, not since graduation, watching him walk across the stage. Your jaw visibly tightens.

“Y/N, is that really you?”

“Who else would it be,” you joke tightly, deciding momentarily to play nice for now.

The laugh he shares is almost believable. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s you. It’s been…”

“Five years,” you finish for him.

Astounded, all he does is nod. “Yeah…”

The last thing you want to do is sit here and take part in a tired conversation with Donghyuck of all people, so you make a show of pointing your attention to your phone as you type a couple text messages. He seems to get the hint, and busies himself making your drinks.

Despite the buzzing bar environment around the two of you, there’s no doubt of the tension in the air. The last time you had spoken to Donghyuck, you had demanded that he leave you alone. For the most part, he had complied. But now, five years later, you have to ask yourself, have you forgiven him?

In the past years since your final falling out you’ve somehow learned to manage the emptiness that sprung inside you, yet now seeing him, you feel something other than hollowness, a swallow feeling in your chest. Are you… ready?

Within minutes he slides two glasses across the counter to you, red liquid occupying its volume. As you tuck your phone away into your purse and reach out to grab your two drinks, it’s clear to you that he has something more to say from the way his eyes linger on the glasses.

“What?” You ask.

“Are you…” He starts, eyebrows furrowing as he suddenly pauses, as though thinking over his words. “You got two glasses. Are you… here with someone?”

He’s curious if you’ve found someone. If you’ve brought them here and if they’ve managed to replace the empty space in your heart once occupied by him. You purse your lips, offering a tight smile as you shake your head. “No, one of these is for Mark.”

You’re unsure if the look on his face at your answer is a relieved one, but you’re sure it won’t bring about good things. “Oh,” he says. “That’s… interesting.” What is that supposed to mean? You have no idea, but when you’re about to turn and make your way back to your friend who is surely waiting for you, he speaks up again. “I have my break in thirty minutes. Can we… talk maybe?”

Talk. He wants to talk, but at this point you’ve learned that accepting any offer from Donghyuck will only lead to trouble. What is there to talk about? Will he apologize? You’ve already told him that you don’t want his apologies. Will he try to fix things? Regardless you’re sure that whatever it is, he will attempt to make his way back into your life, your life that you had worked so hard to create without him.

Every atom, every part of you screams at you to reject him.

But perhaps it’s the heavy feeling in your chest that tells you to say yes. You have unsaid words, words you have held within you for years, and now you might finally have the courage to say them.

Cautiously, you nod. “Fine. Thirty minutes?”

He’s visibly relieved at your easy agreement, and bobs his head in response. “Thirty minutes.”

Because you’re made uncomfortable by his gaze you feel the need to thank him for the drinks in your hands. With a slight gulp you hold the glasses up in a slight gesture. “Thank you for the drinks… Haechan.” His name feels foreign on your tongue.

“Oh, it’s just Donghyuck now. I stopped going by that name a long time ago.”

Over the following thirty minutes, barely sipping on your drink, you try to recollect all you’ve ever felt about Lee Donghyuck.

Once upon a time, he was your playground buddy. Pushing you on the swing high above the play area, he showed you the most thrill an eight year old could have. His excitement did lead to your broken ankle of course, but he had carried your backpack for eight weeks after that.

For many years he was the person you considered to be your best friend. The only person you could trust to share secrets with, like how your first kiss was with Huang Renjun of all people and how you were still, after all these years, afraid of the heights that came along with flying high on the swings.

In high school he was almost an enemy to you, someone you disregarded. Someone you had no respect for, with his smoking habits and dyed neon purple hair.

Then, for the shortest moment so fleeting it felt like a blink of an eye, he was someone you wanted. Someone you desired, someone you could have seen a future with not as a best friend but as a… partner. Laying there in the wet grass beneath the stars with your head on his chest and his voice in your ears, you could have accepted him. Could have forgiven all the distance between you and made it work. Could have become one again.

Then in the moment of truth all you could remember was anger and the pain of the betrayal. At that moment you were set on cutting Donghyuck out of your life. You could no longer take his lies, his habit of coming and going as he pleased. You cut him off.

But that didn’t mean he no longer occupied your thoughts.

Now, standing in front of him in a private room somewhere in the bar, you realize you no longer have anger for him. He is just someone who has hurt you, someone who is part of your past. From the way he gazes at you, he wants you in his future.

You’ve long since graduated from your hoodies and leggings. Now you don a dress, comfortable but also dressy enough for the occasion. But just because you’ve grown doesn’t mean you want him to watch you the way he does.

“You look nice,” he starts. Familiarity rings in your mind, and you purse your lips slightly.

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true,” retorts Donghyuck quickly.

“Sometimes it’d be nice to hear a compliment not involving my appearance from you,” you respond almost a bit too harshly.

Taking the loud hint, he quiets and doesn’t continue the topic. Instead he asks, “How are you?”

Unable to control the lilted chuckle that leaves your lips, you raise an eyebrow at him. “That’s what you brought me here for?” There’s no hostility in your tone, yet he winces.

“Well, uh… yeah. I just—we haven’t talked since—”

“Since you broke my heart?”

This seems to be news to him, because his eyes widen ever so slightly, outlined slightly in dark kohl that seems reminiscent of your high school days. “I broke your heart?”

He didn’t know. It’s almost laughable and you could almost be upset at him for not knowing just how strong of an effect he’s had on your entire life, if not for the fact that he looks absolutely pitiful, staring with wide eyes at the damage he’s done. You gulp, and nod tightly. “Yeah, you did.” After a moment, you add, “Tore it to pieces.”

A timeline of silence persists, before he speaks, voice low. “I’m sorry.”

He even sounds it, and from the way he looks, still clad in his apron and standing straight in front of you whilst you’re leaning on the wall, you could believe it. But at this point you’ve learned better than to believe anything that comes out of his mouth. Has he matured? Perhaps, but something tells you that he’s still the same kid you’ve known since the time before you could do long division.

Yet despite this, perhaps to settle the disruptive fire in your heart that has been burning, aching since the moment you turned your back on him, you nod. “I forgive you.”

Still, you continue with a scoff. “You didn’t even know. Didn’t even know that every single relationship, every promise, every smile from anyone since I’ve met you, I’ve had to reconsider. You didn’t even know, probably still don’t, how hard it is to trust someone, anyone. You were my best friend, Hyuck, and you betrayed me. How was that supposed to make me feel? Especially when you didn’t even come find me after that? You just… expected to just get away with it? You thought it’d be easy to just leave and never say anything, never apologize?”

He simply stands there, eyes trained to the ground in what seems to be shame as he takes in your words. You’re not done.

“And to think, I almost thought that things could go back to normal, that we could be friends again. Maybe…” You catch yourself on your words. You had never admitted them out loud. “Maybe even—even…”

His eyes move up to meet yours.

“Maybe even more,” you finally release in a breath.

“More?” The familiar emotion of surprise flashes over his dark ochre stained eyes. “You… you wanted to be with me?”

The truth is, yes. You did. In some way, perhaps you still do. You’ve always wanted him, you’ve always been ready to freefall into him at any moment. But he doesn’t deserve it.

“I really wanted to. But clearly that’s not possible at this point.”

“No—” He runs a ring adorned hand through his dark locks, a contrast from the neon purple you associated with him. Other things you associate with him—sadness, betrayal, lies, yet still stars in a night sky. “Y/N, I… I love you. I’ve always loved you. I meant it when I said you were my only best friend, you’re the only one. Not Taeyong, or Johnny, or Jaehyun, or anyone. It’s always been you.”

He… loved you.

It hits you like a truck because as much as he claims it, he has a horrible way of showing it. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, fuck—I swear. I know I was a horrible friend, and I know I hurt you. Y/N, please, please listen to me. Please believe me.” Suddenly he’s grasping at your hands, beseeching you with pleading eyes. “I’m different, I promise. I’m not that old me, I’m better. I can be better.”

You rip your hands from his grasp.

“I said don’t lie to me! I told you to stop making promises you can’t keep. You’re doing it again, just like always did. You had your chance, and you lost it. You lost me, Hyuck, it’s over.” He stares at you with widened eyes at your sudden outburst, his brows and lips downturned in an expression of sadness. “I was always willing to make things better, I was ready to take you back the moment you stepped in front of me that day at school and forced me to go on a date with you. I never stopped loving you, and you never stopped being my favorite person, Hyuck. But this—” you say, gesturing to the two of you. “—was doomed from the start.”

You sigh, but this time you calm yourself with a breath and grab at his hands, though you had pulled away from him earlier. “It could have been, you and me. We could have been the perfect trope of childhood best friends who fall in love and spend the rest of their lives together, but that was clearly always out of the question for us. And it’s okay, Hyuck. It’s okay. It’s okay that we’ve grown apart, and that you’ve hurt me more times than I can count, and that we won’t be able to fulfill that fantasy. It’s okay, it really is. Please, just… accept it.”

The way he stares at you, the passion that he holds in his eyes causes a yearning feeling to infiltrate your heart. Yet your mind is clear enough for you to discern it’s not him that you miss, it’s the simpler times with him that you long for.

His eyes are pleading when he finally opens his mouth to respond. “You’ve called me Hyuck four times now. That leads me to think that it’s possible. We’re possible, Y/N…”

“I called you that because it’s your name,” you tell him softly, eyes moving down to where your hands are comfortingly rubbing small circles on his skin. He still has the most rough, callused hands you’ve ever felt in your life. “And because I’m going to choose to remember you as Hyuck, my best friend. Not Donghyuck, the kid who pushed me off the swings. Not Haechan, the boy who hurt me. Just Hyuck, my best friend who… made me happy for a really long time, and who will always,” you say with a slight squeeze to his hands. “Always be special to me.”

His eyes are soft as you look back up to find him. “Y/N…”

“I’ve got to go,” you tell him with a small smile. Finally, everything you’ve needed to say for years has been said.

The tears which layer upon his eyes are evident to the both of you, though you choose not to comment on it. You’re his best friend, and you’re about to walk out of his life. The last thing you offer is a comforting squeeze to his hands before you tear away from him, making your way to the door.

“Y/N.”

You stop, not saying anything before his voice pervades through the silence of the room, despite the raucous party outside. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

This time, you really believe him.

You slide the key into the keyhole and unlock the door, twisting the doorknob as you step into your apartment. To no surprise, it’s dark and empty. With a sigh leaving your throat, you slip in and slide off your shoes.

As you make your way through the apartment you flick on the lights you pass to observe your home, before clicking them off to immerse yourself in the temporary darkness again. In the hallway, books and various clutter have been arranged carefully on the shelves. Entering the living room, you take note of the way the couch cushions have been straightened and a folded blanket rests neatly on one of the lounge chairs, awaiting your arrival. A quick glance to the kitchen tells you that the floor’s been mopped and the dishes put away.

A small smile pervades across your face.

Finally, the bedroom.

Your calm, harmonious smile remains present on your face as you slip into the walk in closet, allowing the fabric of your dress to slide off your figure. Instead, you reach for your pajama bottoms and a thin tank top.

After brushing your teeth and clearing your visage of any remaining makeup, you peel off the blanket and glide into the space between the comforter and the mattress. Finally, you’re home.

You’re closing your eyes, ready to fall asleep with a newfound peace, when a hand slides around your waist. Your smile grows wider as you turn in your spot to meet the sleepy face of your fiance, Jaemin.

“Hey,” he hums tiredly.

“Hey. Sorry for waking you,” you respond lightly, pressing a kiss to his nose.

A small shake of his head and a smile is all that’s needed to settle your guilt of waking him. “It’s okay,” he says while pulling you closer to him, gathering you into his chest.

“You cleaned the apartment,” you muse in amazement at him.

The sound which comes out of him is both smug and proud. “I did. And did you have fun?”

You nod. “I did.”

“How was it?”

“It was nice. I… I met Donghyuck.”

This piques his interest. “Oh? Your best friend from high school who broke your heart?”

A pitiful laugh leaves your chest, and you nod once more. “Yeah, that one.”

“Mm, how was that? Do I need to go punch someone, teach him a lesson?” His words intend to sound menacing, but the fatigue in his tone only makes you chuckle.

“No, honey, it’s okay really. I… I told him how I feel.”

“How’d he take it?” He asks, resting his chin upon the crown of your head. He’s more than knowledgeable about your heart wrenching past toward your friend.

“It was difficult for the both of us but I think everything’s okay. Finally.”

You don’t have to look, but you know he’s smiling.

Where Hyuck is a dark night sky of stars, signifying all the possibilities of the universe, Jaemin is the dawn; the sun reappearing after an arduous night to bring you hope. Where Hyuck is a world of lies, Jaemin is your truth.

He had struggled for many years to make you see, to make you forget the scars that your time with Hyuck had inflicted on your heart. Though you had worried for many years that you were unlovable, Jaemin taught you the opposite.

He is the truth, he is all that’s good, and he is yours.

“Yeah, finally. I’m proud of you, honey. Can we sleep now?”

A laugh leaves your lips, and you nod. “Yeah, go back to sleep, love. Goodnight.” With this, he presses a kiss to your forehead. This small touch, the slightest brush of his lips over your skin, causes a world of love and emotion to erupt within your chest.

So, you say proudly, “I love you.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, replying within a second. “I love you too, with everything I am.”

With your entire heart, you believe him. You have no reason to doubt him.

He is your last and final truth.