#not just background shots of them looking into the void pfft

[amischiefofmuses]

Extreme side-eye at Alastor for starting shit with the king of hell.

And then he just fuckin' dissociates for the next few minutes. You good there buddy?

[neoangelic]

Don’t Need Your Love

➳ an nct dream series

After a horrible first love experience, Yang Ahn joins the Don’t Need Your Love club via invitation. Things don’t turn out the way they were supposed to. 

➳ a story of not-so-romance featuring: the coolest club on campus, the meaning of unrequited, teenagers, best friends, heartbreak, healing, first loves, and new ones. 

➳ masterlist 

➳ note: female oc, multiple pairings, ot7 dream, not saying anything more bc spoilers!

➳ word count: 2235

DNYL. A four-letter word—if you would even call it a word. DNYL: four letters that defined the rest of my youth. Four letters that changed my perspective of quite a few other four-letter words. These four consonants brought together a broken band of romance misfits, the love-lost and the lovelorn, and I was the unfortunate latter.

A scoff dared to spill from my lips when I heard Harvey’s voice crackle over the loudspeaker. It wasn’t abnormal for clubs to advertise themselves via intercom, but those were your usual clubs: basketball, taekwondo, art, math, and such. It started off one of those usual announcements at first, but his next words turned everything around.

“The coolest club on campus: DNYL—”

Such a declarative statement. It stopped me in my tracks on the way to homeroom.

“—Don’t Need Your Love.”

And like the rest of the student body, his audacious proposal of a club nearly made me laugh. Harvey was a sweet exchange student from the United Kingdom. A gregarious boy with a knack for gathering people’s interest. This stunt was no exception. Like the rest of Neo Culture Tech’s teenager-filled population, he droned on about relationships, though he spoke of the broken kind. 

Since I had no relation to such types of relationship, I let his voice fade into the background of chattering students and teachers ushering them off to class. At this point, all I paid attention to was the scuff on my Mary Janes as I walked and the way the spine of my notebooks sat uncomfortably against my bicep. My grip on them grew tighter as bits and pieces of Harvey’s speech were growing harder to suppress. Intrusive thoughts crawled its way into my mind. A whisper of an unforgotten forgotten name. Ghosts of conversations in a foreign language. A face began to form in my memory. One with cat-like, sharp eyes. Before my fingertips could come into contact with the cool metal of the doorknob in front of me and snap me out of my thoughts—something else did.  

“Do you feel down from all this unrequited love?” 

Do you feel down from all this unrequited love? Was that even a question?

I finally let a chuckle past my lips, once again turning my attention towards the scuff mark on my shoe, once again letting the name of first love to be forgotten and remembering that I had a class to attend.

“What’s so funny?”

“Lee Jeno, Jesus Christ,” my shoulders jumped to my ears. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“You looked dumb standing like that,” he gestured to my hand that floated above the doorknob.

“Are you trying to act like Hyuck-oppa by insulting me?”

“Well as your new best friend, I need to fill the void that Haechan left in our Ahn-ah’s heart.”

“You say that like he’s dead.”

“Yeah, dead to you.”

“Only sometimes,” I roll my eyes. “He’ll be back in one more month and I never said anything about you being my new best friend.”

He pouts, like a puppy. “Well haven’t I done a good job of taking care of you while he’s gone? You did post on your insta story about best friend applications being open and I remember sending you a resume that I don’t think you ever read. He’s been gone since like the beginning of last school year—”

Jeno continued to ramble on with loud hand gestures. It was odd to know that this was the boy I was introduced to during freshman year of high school. His features have grown to become more chiseled and—due to his resolution of ‘becoming fit’ over the summer—I couldn’t help but notice the outlines of muscle through his school uniform. Still retaining his puppy-like features, puberty didn’t steal away his cuteness just yet. The Lee Donghyuck he currently was ranting about was my best friend of now four years. I concluded that his one-sided competition for Donghyuck’s role as my best friend was his little way of reminiscing the devilish boy. Although, he’d never admit that he missed him. Neither would I.

Donghyuck was the funniest boy I ever met. He was like the sun at its brightest as it shone through a stormy day. His reactions were exaggerated and animated and he never failed at catching every opportunity for a quick-witted remark against me. But my favorite part about him was when he made jokes with a straight face. Sometimes I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. He breathed life into my gloomy 7th-grade self. But I don’t think I could forgive him for not metaphorically holding my hand throughout first year. He had to leave Korea a quarter through the first semester because his parents won a trip to Canada. And I get it. Canada was a great place to be, but he failed to inform me that his trip would last about a year. Before he left, he introduced me to Jeno and told me that we would get along splendidly. 

In the words of my best friend; ‘you’d be too much of a loner while I’m gone, so I bestow this pity gift on you.’ 

Not to mention, our first meeting was hilarious. 

He was right. I missed him like the moon missed the sun in the cold night sky.

Luckily, Jeno and I had more in common than I thought and maybe Donghyuck knew that. Maybe that was why he introduced us. He always had an eye for such things. 

The first thing I said made him choke on his milk and flush cherry. Let’s just say I recognized him from an old advert he did as a child actor, featuring the said drink he choked on. The Lee Jeno I first got to know was awkward and shy, never without his crescent-crinkled eyes, a bashful smile, and fingers pulling on a hoodie string. The Lee Jeno that stood in front of me was wide-eyed, broad-shouldered, and confident as ever. 

He grew up a lot.

Don’t ever tell him this (lest you want his ego to inflate) but I really admired him for that. 

“—in conclusion, who was there for that whole fiasco? Not Haechan. What did he ever do? Facetime you every day? Pff I bought you ice cream. Now that’s a real friendship. You didn’t see him flying over from Canada to comfort you, did you? Maybe he was whisked away by a Canadian babe or hunk—”

“You got me my least favorite flavor,” I remarked.

“Ahn-ah,” he whined. “Give me some credit.”

“Tough love. If you wanna be Donghyuck try to be more annoying. He’d never greet me like that.”

“Oh yeah? And how would he have greeted you?” Jeno leaned forward to meet me eye level as if challenging me. Regret flashed in his eyes as I promptly jumped up to put him in a headlock, messing up his perfectly combed hair with my free hand.

“Aw isn’t our Jeno-oppa so grown up?” I pout, pulling and pinching at his cheeks. “Every morning that I see you, you seem to get taller. What am I going to do with you?”

He scrunched his nose in disgust, furrowing his brows. “I think I have cooties now.”

“That’s the spirit. Now keep that up and you’re on your way—maybe—to be just like Hyuckie.”

“The absolute disrespect you’re giving him while he’s gone, calling someone older than you so casually” he scoffs, wrestling his head out of my grasp. “How has he had this much influence on you while he’s gone?”

“Well—”

“Lee. Yang. I don’t suppose you’d want to be late for my class while having a lovers quarrel, don’t you?”

I push Jeno away from me and bowed, flustered. “Sorry, saem.”

“Saem-nim,” Jeno clicked his tongue at my rough gesture, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I could think of her romantically even if I was paid five million won.”

Mr. Song tapped his knuckles against the boy’s head. “Be nice to girls, Jeno. I was joking. I guess you finally found another boy to bully, Ahn?”

“In my defense, sir, the last boy was the one who bullied me.”

“Pfft—”

“I liked you better with the other boy you were friends with, yes. Why don’t I see him with you anymore? You seemed to cause a lot less trouble with—”

Jeno swung the door open. “I think we should get to our seats, Ahn-ah. I’m sorry about the trouble Mr. Song.” His hands clasped around my shoulders and ushered me into the classroom, another scuff to probably form as I tried to not trip over my own feet or drop my books. He shoved me toward my seat.

“Hey—”

“Shh,” he shot an annoying smile at my irritation. “Class is starting.”

“Rude. I think Donghyuck got to you too,” I grumble, sinking my face into the palm of my hand as my notebooks lay in disarray on my desk. It was unfortunate that our homeroom teacher was nice. He let Jeno sit next to me.

“I’ll call attendance now.” 

My unfortunate seatmate leaned closer toward me. I inched away, rolling my eyes as he whispered.

“So… does that make me better BFF material?” His eyes disappeared into crescents as he prodded me with is a pencil, chuckling deviously. I slapped his hand away.

“You’re still not as funny as him.”

“What the hell—”

“H-here.”

“Lee, Jeno?” Mr. Song stared at the black-haired boy with a raised eyebrow.

To which he coughed loudly to cover up his expletive.

And aside from Harvey’s little announcement that morning, the rest of the day went on without a hitch. Soon enough, Monday turned into Tuesday, which morphed into Wednesday and bumped into Thursday. All the “day”s seemed the same. Monotonous. The only thing that was different was the slowly shifting breeze and the changing colors of the leaves of plants and trees. The autumn scenery was finally settling in.

And you know what they say about autumn.

It was a fitting season for the boy in front of me. A season of endings and changes—amongst all the other autumn things. 

“Why are you tearing them down?” I caught a piece of paper that fluttered down the stairway. It had been a while since I spoke English, the language strange on my tongue. “They’re cute.”

Harvey turned around and flashed a tight-lipped smile. He shook his head with a disappointed exhale. “Quite frankly, the whole thing was a bust.” His hand reached for another DNYL poster, one of many that scattered the walls of this place.

I picked up some rogue posters that fell onto the steps, approaching the foreign boy. I wasn’t lying about the posters being cute. They were handmade and created with color and illustration, the words written in an aesthetic way. Though, I didn’t mind to read them. 

“Why’d you make the club in the first place?”

“I guess I’ve just seen those people around campus who’ve just been so unhappy,” he said. “It felt horrible knowing that there was nothing I could do to help but I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, if I created a safe haven away from that heartbreak, then nobody would feel lonely enough to cry their heart out. Have you ever had the feeling of wanting to start something beautiful?” Harvey’s eyes were green and genuine. The golden light from the window was filtered through leaves, creating a taste of a nostalgic, bittersweet what-if. 

“Once,” I answered, a feeling pulling at my chest. An urge. A remembrance of what was and what could have been. There was a wish for warmth, even soaked in the honey glow of the sun. Longing. For new beginnings. 

Who hasn’t felt the wish for something to ignite?

For something to explode.

For undreamt dreams to just come true.

“I guess I also wanted to leave a small legacy before I leave. I need to go back home pretty soon.” A solemn sigh left Harvey once again as he stared down at one of his white posters. A pitiful silence hung in the air, dust fairies dancing and floating around us, falling and disappearing away from the light.

“Maybe you just need to find your targeted audience,” the words didn’t mean to come out of my lips, but they did anyway. “NCT is a highschool where teenage romance never sleeps. You’d be best off finding some outliers—y’know like the people you mentioned.”

“The ones I’ve seen around campus?”

“Yeah. Those who have been dumped, had a bad breakup, dealing with a broken heart… isn’t that what you said this club was for?”

“I wouldn’t suppose you’re one of those outliers?” He called out.

I looked behind at Harvey and the colorful papers that stuck out from his arms and his backpack. I looked at the empty walls and the tape that he wasn’t able to scrape off and half torn stickers that spelled ‘DN’. I look at him and smile without meaning to.

“If this is truly the coolest club on campus, then send a message my way.

“I don't have your number.”

“Who said you needed to text me to communicate? Send me something interesting—something special. I wanna feel like I’m being invited to the Phantom’s masquerade,” I turned away, biting at the inside of my cheek. My next words came at a frightening decrescendo as I realized what I was getting myself into. “If you find that I’m suited for your club…surprise me.

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footnotes -

saem: a shortened word for ‘seongsaeng-nim’ or teacher.

oppa: well, I think we all know this one but I mostly use it to signify respect or difference of age