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soundsofcicadas · 1 year ago

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Swan Song, part one

Pairing: Koo Junhoe x Reader (f)

Genres: Drama, Angst, Romance, Childhood best friends, Junhoe is a former idol, Friends to lovers

Count: 2697

Warnings: None

Synopsis: After an unexpected encounter with your childhood best friend Junhoe, years after drifting apart, your rekindled friendship blooms anew. However, life takes a turn when he asks you to pen an article for his upcoming wedding. As you become entangled in his personal life, your old feelings of love for him begin resurfacing and the concealed secret behind his decision to abandon his idol career is soon to be unveiled by you.

It was a dreary, rain-soaked afternoon and you found yourself carrying a couple of grocery bags, each lightly dampened by the persistent drizzle. The rain had already drenched your umbrella, rendering it almost useless. You let out a sigh and quickened your pace, hoping to reach your apartment before the rain grew heavier. Upon crossing the street, you noticed an old record store nestled between a quaint cafe and a cozy bookstore. You glanced up and saw its faded sign bore the name “Good Oldies,” and a sudden sense of nostalgia washed over you.

“Should I?” You asked yourself with some hesitation. You looked at the groceries in your hands for a moment before a faint smile appeared on your face. Despite them weighing you down, curiosity got the better of you.

You pushed open the creaky door of the record store. A soft bell tinkled above as you stepped in, greeted by the familiar scent of old vinyl and the gentle hum of music playing on a vintage turntable. Rows upon rows of vinyl records filled the store, their covers adorned with vibrant artwork and the promise of forgotten melodies. You set your grocery bags down and began flipping through the albums, each one a portal to a different era. Lost in the world of music, you finally settled on a Billie Holiday record, its cover portraying the singer’s side view posing behind a purplish background. As you held the record in your hands, your eyes caught a tall figure browsing by the “Rock” section in the next aisle. Aside from the cashier patiently waiting at the counter, only the two of you were the customers inside. You couldn’t help but stare at the mysterious man in front of you. He was wearing jeans, paired with a matching brown corduroy blazer and a baseball cap. You��could see him picking up a Bob Dylan record and once he turned around, you glanced up to see his face clearly.

You froze, your eyes fluttered rapidly.

Even if you could only see half of his face, you surely recognized him. A jumble of emotions rushed through you—surprise, longing? A twinge of anxiety.

Is it really him? No, it’s definitely him! Should I approach him? What if he doesn’t recognize me?

Without further thought, you took a deep breath and cleared your throat. He was about to walk towards the counter when your voice broke through the soft veil background music in the sparsely populated store.

“Junhoe?” You called.

Junhoe halted and took a glimpse at you, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Your heart sank, but you pressed on moving closely to him. “It’s me, y/n. We used to live next door to each other when we were kids.”

Junhoe turned to face you completely.

Familiarity dawned on him as he began examining the stranger before him—from the contours of your face to the soft curve of your cheeks. Your long ebony hair, still dampened from the rain. Your eyes were bright, widened in astonishment. You were wearing a long white sundress covered in an oversized baby pink coat, a Lady Satin album in your hands.

“Y/n?” He mumbled.

You were his childhood best friend, until he dropped out in middle school and left for the city to pursue his dreams. You were the one he promised to call and write but never did. When did he forget about you? He couldn’t even remember. Junhoe sifted through his forgotten memories of you and for some unknown reason, found comfort in recalling how you used to exude a carefree spirit when you were both young. You were one of the boys in the neighborhood and never changed your circle of friends, even when you all started attending school up to your adolescence. He fondly remembered how, during your escapades together, you would match your energy with him and the boys in the group effortlessly. Being the eldest among the six of them, you naturally assumed the role of an older sister. You became their protector against mean kids if any of them were bullied.

Junhoe’s gaze lingered on the subtle changes in your style, the way your clothing reflects your femininity. Your posture now carried a touch of maturity, but your features still looked youthful, untouched by the passage of time. Gone was the y/n who hunted for frogs and insects with him in her tees and chucks.

Junhoe noticed how he had almost gotten lost in his thoughts upon hearing you answer him excitedly with a “Yes, it’s me! I can’t believe it’s you.”

“I can’t believe it’s you too.” He responded to you with a warm smile.

************************************************************************

“You didn’t have to pay for it, you know.” You said shyly to Junhoe, pertaining to the album he bought for you from the record store. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you and Junhoe sat across from each other in a secluded corner of the coffee shop. The clinking of cups and hushed conversations along with the playing jazz melody formed as gentle backdrop to your reunion.

“It’s not free! You're paying for my coffee.” Junhoe teased, earning a laugh from you.

“You bet it’s my treat today!” You nodded with a grin. There was a brief pause when you added, “Thank you Junhoe for coming here with me. I’m not taking too much of your time, am I?”

Junhoe shook his head. “Oh no y/n! I’m actually on vacation right now. I was here just a few days ago.”

So this is why he’s back. You mused.

Taking a sip from the hot caramel macchiato you ordered, you had a chance to observe Junhoe over the brim of your cup—the white undershirt suited his ensemble that day. You knew the baseball cap perched casually on his head was not just a simple accessory. It created a shield of privacy around him from the curious gazes of onlookers given the fact that Junhoe was still a celebrity. You didn’t mind ordering for him. You knew he wanted to pick a spot away from the prying eyes of customers, hence to where the both of you are now nestled. It offered a discreet setting to catch up after all those lost time. Junhoe peeked through the misty glass of the cafe’s window, where the rain seemed to have turned into light pattering before he glimpsed back at you.

“It’s been so long, y/n. I can’t believe we’re sitting here after all these years.”

You beamed at him and set your coffee down on the tabletop, “I know, right? Life has taken us on such different paths.”

Junhoe’s expression shifted, a hint of remorse tugging at his sharp features. “Y/n, I feel terrible for not keeping in touch, especially considering how close we were.”

Your gaze softened, but your smile was unwavering. “It’s okay, Junhoe. You were chasing your passion, and you built a new life for yourself outside this town. Not all of us were headed in the same direction anyway. It genuinely made me happy to see you thriving. I’ve always been proud of you, Junhoe.”

Your last statement piqued Junhoe's curiosity.

“Proud?” He repeated.

“How do I say this—” You tried to avoid looking at his face. Your sight dipping into the stain of your lipstick on the cup of your coffee as if seeking solace. You felt a pang of embarrassment tickling the edges of your consciousness, a quiet voice whispering the fear that your words might be misconstrued. You didn’t want him to think you were some sort of fervent, overzealous stalker. A faint blush tinted your cheeks. Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the fabric of your dress.

“I followed your journey as a singer Junhoe. Your rise to fame was like a whirlwind. Your voice was everywhere.” You divulged. “I even went to some of your concerts to be honest.”

Junhoe’s awe hung in the air from your confession, yet he held no judgement from it. He was grateful, flattered to say the least.

“I wish I had known that y/n. Thank you.” He said to you with care.

“But I’m definitely not a saesang or anything.” You reassured him with a nervous laugh. You didn’t dare to meet Junhoe’s eyes because sharing this information with him made you feel exposed, yet you continued, “You were the closest friend I ever had, and I guess I’ve always clung to the belief that your dreams would come true. Regardless of the passing years and not hearing anything from you, you still have a special place in my heart.”

Junhoe began to feel the weight of your words, a surge of sorrow and regret engulfed him. He reflected on how your connection with each other in the past was unbreakable. His inseparability with you was the envy of the other boys in your circle. You had always favored him, making your bond together a more special one. You stood by him, especially during his appearances in school talent shows and local town festivals. You consistently supported him to the point where you recorded his audition tapes sent to entertainment companies. Junhoe got accepted by YG Entertainment eventually, and your joy that day for him was immeasurable. You even brought the boys with you to accompany him on his first day of training to the company.

“I’m really sorry, y/n.” Junhoe stated, his face grim. “You know, during those years, I was so caught up with the hectic demand of my career. I lost contact with a lot of people, including you.” Junhoe was struggling to find the right words, knowing that they might come across as excuses for not reaching out for such a long time. Yet, they were the only words he could muster.

The fervent pursuit of Junhoe’s dream to become a singer resulted in his connections slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. The rigors of his training consumed his time and energy, leaving little room to see or talk to his circle of friends. Gradually, Junhoe started living at the company’s dormitory which made him more detached from them. Their relationship began to fray due to his lack of communication—the letters he’d forgotten to read, calls gone to voicemail and most importantly, the highlights of the lives of his friends he missed out on knowing and witnessing, causing both sides to finally dwindle into silence. As Junhoe marched toward his debut, the overwhelming preparation and anticipation completely absorbed him. The spotlight of the stage beckoned, and the weight of his ambition denied him the opportunity to look backwards. The vortex of his rise to fame kept him farther from his roots. Recording sessions, photo shoots, TV appearances and tours became the center of his everyday life. It cast him into a turbulence of events that seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. The adoration of fans, the flashes of cameras and the cheers of crowds all consumed his focus. The memories of his friends back in his hometown became a blur, their faces fading like distant constellations in the night sky.

The realization of how you held onto your belief that he would achieve his aspirations, had affected Junhoe in some kind of way. Your persistence in tracking his path as a singer astounded him. He was profoundly moved how you cherished your friendship after such a long period of being apart.

However, at that exact moment, a haunting thought emerged within Junhoe, creeping into the recesses of his mind like an uninvited guest. In your presence, a world he had thought he’d left behind reignited, casting a shadow of pain over him. A bittersweet memory of a dream that had once been within his grasp, disappeared as swiftly as a fleeting breath.

You returned your attention back to Junhoe. It was not your intention to cause him any negative feelings.

“Please don’t feel bad, Junhoe.” You pleaded. “We were kids, and circumstances changed. I never held it against you.”

Junhoe had somehow found consolation in your words, although a subtle ache still persisted beneath the surface.

“Thank you, y/n. That means a lot to me.” He said sincerely.

“I know this may sound too much Junhoe, but I knew then you were destined to be a singer. You weren’t meant to be stuck in this town like me.” You declared. “That’s why it made me sad when you retired from music. You were at the peak of your career, but I truly get it and I still support you pursuing other things.”

Junhoe leaned back in his chair and looked at the momentarily forgotten coffee on the table, as if searching for the right answer. He was torn between vulnerability and a desire to protect the fragile facade he had built. He wrestled between overwhelming emotions, a torrent of memories he had forgotten now resurfacing. A cascade of what-ifs and maybes flooded his mind, reminding him of the dreams he had once harbored.

Junhoe offered a fleeting smile, a fragile acknowledgment that your words touched a chord within him. But he remained guarded, his response veiled by the walls he had erected to secure himself from the agonizing truth he had long concealed.

“You’re kind to say that.” Junhoe murmured softly, his gaze now meeting yours. His voice carried a weight of both resignation and yearning, a silent plea for understanding. It was a response that revealed the depth of his struggle, a battle between the echoes of his dreams and the reality he had come to accept.

“I’m into writing poetry now, y/n. I’ve published a few books and it’s been therapeutic for me.” Junhoe revealed. “I guess, I’m still part of the music industry. I occasionally produce music for my fellow artists.”

“That’s amazing Junhoe!” You responded, providing him with warm encouragement. “It’s incredible how you continue to explore and evolve as an artist. I wasn’t lucky to obtain a copy of your last book though, it got easily sold out!”

Junhoe appreciated your attempt to inject a lighthearted laugh into the conversation, as a means to thaw the seriousness of it. But talking about himself had begun to tire him out, prompting him to steer the discussion to you.

“Enough of me y/n, how have you been?” Junhoe asked. “Are you still friends with Hanbin and the other boys?”

“Me? Oh, I’m also a writer like you, but it’s for a local lifestyle magazine.” You shared; your voice laced with enthusiasm as you seamlessly followed along with his transition of topic. “And yes, I’m still friends with the boys. Hanbin now teaches elementary school kids. Would you believe that?”

“Wow! Really?” Junhoe’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Yeah. Yun works as a master chef at a fancy hotel in Seoul. As for Jiwon, he has his own family already. Him and Dong both resided in the US after graduation, but they live in different states. Dong has his own dance studio somewhere in LA.”

A comfortable atmosphere began to envelop the two of you, and Junhoe felt his shoulders visibly relax as he listened to your stories about your childhood friends. It offered a refreshing change from his life in the spotlight. Engaging to hear every detail of their lives, he couldn’t help but recognize how much he missed them and how happy it made him that they were all doing so well through the years.

Until a specific event sparked in Junhoe’s mind, inspiring him to extend an invitation to you. He saw this as an opportunity to keep the rekindled connection you both shared, a bond he was determined not to let fade away as he had done in the past.

“Y/n, would you be interested in joining me for an art exhibit tomorrow night? Feel free to bring Hanbin and your other friends as well, if you like.” Junhoe asked you excitedly.

A glint appeared in your eyes upon hearing the kind gesture. “I would love to Junhoe! That’s wonderful because I like art a lot.”

“That’s great, y/n! I’ll text you the address.” Junhoe replied cheerfully, looking forward to seeing you again.��

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