35: SILVER LINING

  //

  9:24 P.M. // 11 - 2 - 2023 // Portland, Maine - Ample Comfort Suites

  Featuring Dean Harvest, Cedrance Manamune, Junseo Park and Avil Daniase

  //

  The only noise in the room was the sound of breathing and the humming of the air conditioner warming the room.

  Dean was tucked into the bed, a sleeping mask over his eyes. His hair was ruffled from constant rolling, and the slight groans he made suggested his desire to sleep. But for some reason, he couldn’t. The room wasn’t loud, the eye mask made it dark, and in no way was his sleeping arrangement uncomfortable, with two pillows beneath his head and a warm blanket over him. He pulled the blanket up even further to his chin.

  Cedrance laid strewn across the couch, biting his lips as he scrolled through pictures on his watch, his legs stacked on top of each other on the couch’s arm. A nostalgic look clouded his handsome face, crinkles in his eyes and a reminiscing smile.

  Him and Serene on their first date in LA, an oops couple from the Agent Institute, from a time where she was shy and quiet. It had been a shopping trip for school materials; while at the mall Serene had run from her escort and bumped into Ced with tears in her eyes, and an agreement and a misdirecting finger point later, they had become unlikely friends on a friendly outing.

  Second date, a picture taken in a photo booth by the movie theater. This had been Serene’s idea, a very nervous and stuttering idea that had made Ced’s heart swell with a feeling he couldn’t understand. In the photo, Ced had worn star glasses, Serene with heart glasses and star stickers on her cheeks, and both were ridiculously stiff in an attempt to preserve their egos.

  Third date, ice cream by Huntington Beach in California. This time there was no face, just their hands holding a cone of ice cream each, her with a lightly-licked sprinkled chocolate scoop and him with a half eaten blackberry sherbet in hand; a date that was the result of the pressure and expectations of their peers and that had truly ignited their feelings for each other. Another photo of the gorgeous sea, umbrellas and sand castles, seagulls and foaming surf. Another of Serene, just her in jean shorts and a wet purple t-shirt, 14 years old in all of her adolescent glory. Back then she was cute. Now, it was different.

  Fourth date, a moment captured just before the terrifying fall of the tallest ride at the amusement park. Cedrance snorted at the face she had made in the photo.

  Fifth date, shopping for more clothes. Serene’s wide grin and sparkling eyes as she threw one piece of clothing after another at the horrified cashier, the camera quality slightly blurred from Ced shaking too much from laughter.

  Sixth, seventh, eighth…

  Before he knew it, he reached the day when they had kissed.

  Under the fireworks of New Years, the booming explosions in their ears and the cheering of people around, yet all they had heard was the beating of their hearts together.

  The city lights so bright, not brighter than the gorgeous firework displays above and none more beautiful than the full moon that graced the night, yet they only saw each other.

  Celebration all around the world for the coming year, yet they celebrated their love for each other instead.

  Ced’s hand fell onto his chest, his face burning up as he bit his lips with unfocused eyes.

  Similarly, Jun laid on the bed, his eyes half glued to the hologram and the other half at the pale brown ceiling. A pair of AirPods were jammed into his ears, and his super-baggy black t-shirt had a big graphic of a scarily detailed Cinnamon Toast Crunch viscerally eating another Cinnamon Toast piece. He cracked off a piece of uncooked instant noodles and tossed it into his mouth, the seasoning leaving a slight stain on his fingers.

  Age 6, a picture of Jun at his first ever dance class. Seventeen other kids were lined up beside or kneeled in front of him, a group picture in front of the long mirror of the studio. Everyone had smiled, genuinely filled with excitement and a positive anxiety of what was to come.

  A few months later, a picture of him holding a trophy for second place in geumdo, vibrant with joy and covered in sweat on the blue mat. His dad had celebrated with a house party back then with all his friends.

  Age 7, everything looked about the same other than a couple adjustments; students who had gone for better opportunities, academic or extracurricular. Any persuasion Jun had tried had not worked on his mother. This time, Ms. Minji had asked everyone to smile for the photo.

  Another picture of a second place trophy, on the same blue mat, the same happiness everywhere on Jun but the hollowed eyes. His dad had finally divorced his mother, but she had won custody over Jun.

  Age 8, he was a little bit taller and a little bit leaner, a beautiful dancer’s body taking shape. The kids in front of him hid the redness of his ankles, the soreness in all of his limbs and bones that a regular 8 year old should never have had to experience. Now, only ten of the original students remained. The smile was too forced.

  Jun swiped quickly past the medal he had won that year.

  Age 9, all of his after school lessons had been starting to get to him. The geumdo, the singing, and the dreaded dancing. Every single second of his day was eaten up with work, work, work, work. This time it was a graduation photo from third grade: beside him were his two best friends from back then, but it had been so long ago and he hadn’t stayed in touch with them, so their names were all but forgotten to him. That would be his last day of normalcy.

  Finally, a photo of him in first place. He had been beaming with joy, and nothing could possibly have smothered the smile off of his face. Jun distinctly remembered celebrating with his grandparents and father.

  Age 11, the graduation photo. A new school, new kids, new teachers, rules, facilities, etiquette, everything. A new title of idol trainee. Pretty kids lined up for the pretty photo, where everything was pretty because nothing was wrong. Jun had been placed in the back, right in the center, a pretty smile on his face. The photo didn’t show his thick socks to hide the bruises on his feet, the redness from his spanked hands, and all the tears he had cried. At the very least, he had made a pretty friend, So Yoonha.

  Age 13, she hadn’t been a friend. She had not been a friend. People who hurt others were not very pretty, and no matter how hard she had tried to eliminate the teachers’ bias towards him, he had unknowingly thwarted her every single time. In this photo, So Yoonha was nowhere to be seen. Smile, smile, smile. The picture was so perfect.

  Age 15, taller, smarter and more free than ever. Arc America had reached out to him, and he would take it. He would take the invitation by the hand and let it lead him as long as he was allowed to… two years. It took him 9 years to smile so genuinely for a picture. He was the prettiest person there.

  Two days before going to Arc, he had his hair dyed pink. It had only been a whim for him and nothing more. Even the color he had chosen had been random.

  Jun popped another crunchy noodle bit into his mouth.

  Meanwhile, Avil was completely passed out, an absolute spread-out over the right bed, hogging all of the space to himself. Other than his jacket, he was still in his clothes from earlier and smelled distinctly of the hotel-provided shampoo and body wash along with a hint of the cinnamon and chocolate treats they had enjoyed earlier. His long-ish dark purple hair was still wet, staining the pillow. Avil oddly made no noise as he slept, no matter how much a slob he presented himself as.

  Someone knocked on the door twice, and almost immediately Dean sat up. He startled Jun, who closed his watch while glancing at Dean as if suspicious if he had seen any of the photos, densely disregarding the sleeping mask over Dean’s eyes. A second later both boys were sat up at attention as Ced casually slid out of the couch.

  “I’ll check,” he said, a twist of his lips and the lower indent of his brows revealing his true thoughts. Avil was still a human-sized scrambled egg on the bed.

  Ced peeked through the little hole, ready to dismiss the roomkeepers if needed, but he paused for a moment.

  “Who’s there?” Jun asked, his finger hovering over the watch.

  “It’s…” Ced swallowed with a degree of difficulty. “It’s the girls. The girls came over.”

  //

  9:27 P.M. // 11 - 2 - 2023 // Portland, Maine - Ample Comfort Suites

  Featuring Junseo Park, Cedrance Manamune, Dean Harvest, Leslie, Jessica, Serene, Fanny and Avil Daniase

  //

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Jun’s heart skipped a beat even as he frowned. Why were the girls here?

  “Let them in then,” Jun found himself saying. He caught a small groan-yawn from Dean.

  Ced didn’t answer as he opened the door.

  “—would actually never even try that. Hey, Ced!” That was Leslie’s voice.

  “Can we go inside?” And that was Jessica.

  A mumble from Ced later, the four girls walked in. First was Leslie in a Hello Kitty tank top, the liveliest of the bunch. Her frizzy blond hair was done up in a high bun, making her silver looped earrings and slightly freckled, skin-care slathered face stand out. The blue headband that held back her hair had a little bow on it. Dean rustled in his spot, his grip on the blankets and the sleep mask he had taken off tightening along with the purse of his lips.

  Then came Fanny in a red polka dot nightgown, whose ginger hair fell down her shoulders naturally unlike her usual ponytail. It was also completely straight rather than the waviness Jun had gotten used to, and a couple pimple patches were dotted near the edges of her face upon closer inspection. He realized it was his first time seeing her completely without any makeup or hair styling done.

  As soon as they realized they were looking at each other, Fanny’s cheeks flushed and they both averted their eyes.

  To the right of Leslie, Jessica rocked a full peel-off mask and a couple pins holding up her hair, a portable makeup carrier in her hands. “I might use your restroom for a second, though. Someone dragged me here in the middle of my routine.” She pointedly glared at Leslie, who snickered in response.

  “Big deeeeal, they’ll probably let you,” Leslie paced forward and halted right in front of Dean, who flinched and looked away. In a disappointing development, she turned around to look at Ced, who had sat down with Serene lying her head on his shoulder, or at least as high as her head could reach. Jun bit his lips and did his best to avoid eye contact with them. “It’s okay, right?”

  Dean cleared his throat, bringing her sly attention back to him. This time he made his best attempt at eye contact, but still shied away as Leslie subtly leaned in. “Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

  “Awww, thanks, Dean!”

  “N-no problem, L-Leslie.”

  She then winked to Jessica, who mouthed something with a pitiful expression on her face. Leslie’s smile only widened.

  He could see Serene in the background, saying something to Ced, and his laughter shook something in him. Jun stood up abruptly. “Fanny, your room is empty, right?”

  An awkward silence eclipsed him. From her side profile, Jun saw Fanny’s eyes widen, and Serene turning her attention to him.

  “It’s not for anything weird,” he said, clearing his throat and looking away in embarrassment, “I just want to practice.”

  Leslie and Jessica both broke into a giggle, keeling over in a fresh daze. Dean snorted beside him.

  “Practice… what?” Serene asked from her spot, her head no longer on Ced. “In our room? With our… girl stuff?”

  “Ahahhaahaha!”

  “Ooh, oohhaaahaha!”

  “Dancing!” Jun fell back into the bed and grabbed his pillow from behind him, slamming it into his face. “M’m mot a perbbert!!”

  “I’m not a pervert?” Dean translated meekly, and the two girl’s combined laughter was renewed.

  Jun peeked from beneath his pillow to his left at Avil. Still sleeping like a rock. Then he moaned in the horror of his word choices.

  …

  “Thanks a lot, Fanny.”

  The door beeped as she scanned her room card on it, the tiny red light turning to green. “N-no problem, Jun.” She turned and looked up at him, not totally looking at his eyes and more at his neck. Her own round eyes were blurry. He gave her a wan smile, and she turned back to the door.

  “I-I’m gonna go inside to clean up the room. Don’t want you to see the m-mess, if you know what I mean!” A long and uncomfortable silence followed.

  “Heh.” He scratched the back of his neck, staring down the hall of the hotel. “That would save me from any more embarrassing incidents. Really, thank you for helping me out there.”

  She nodded silently, then scurried into the room, the door closing behind her. A minute or two later the door opened again.

  “It’s clean now, you can go in. Just, don’t look in the bathroom.” Fanny said quickly, her breathing a little bit heavier than normal. He nodded his head reassuringly, a smile curling at the end of Jun’s lips. But before he could say anything, she ran off back into the boys’ hotel room, light steps on the carpet floor before disappearing behind the door.

  His mouth was left agape for a moment, another word of thanks on his tongue that never left.

  A blink later he walked inside. The girls’ room was nearly identical to the boys’ room, with the only difference obviously being the luggage. Unlike the boys, the girls had packed heavily: a large hiking backpack, a rolling suitcase, a single bag of makeup on the nightstand, a charger plugged into the lamp’s socket, a couple bottles and unfinished drinks on the table, a large white bag and a red purse on the right bed.

  Otherwise, there wasn’t anything else. Nothing else that could disturb him.

  So it was time for him to review.

  He pulled up the music:

  Silver Lining, by Azurose.

  Play.

  And then he began.

  The sounds of rapidly opening beats and a nightlife-punk background track greeted his ears. No movements but the slow crawling of his fingers up his body as Jun waited, 8 beats and—

  The rap began.

  You’re on the run!

  Punch-out, pull-back, jitter—

  It was loud, but all Jun heard were the deafening thoughts that reminded him what to do next.

  I’m all around you, hounding like a ghost,

  Turn, step-step-step, twisting arms—

  A harmonious flow of movement, a dance style so unique to K-pop culture, never stopping even for a second as every part moved to create a picture.

  Better stick your pride, where to hide and don’t let it show

  To Jun, there was nothing that could stop him. No imperfections, for he was honed and trained to be a living machine.

  Cause I’m a sharpshooter, tick tock, one shot it’s over

  A sudden melodical shift in the music brought up the main vocalist.

  You could have stayed here just for a minute,

  Confidence in every move.

  His hand flew out for a second, into a pointer. Eyes follow, turn side and slide—

  Won’t you eat your last supper?

  Each little detail was important. Everything…

  Each step, turn, hand movement, where he looked, all would be captured on the screen.

  You might just run for cover.

  The mood changed again, the tempo shifting again as the track moved towards the chorus.

  Jun knew his Azurose seniors all by name.

  There’s a cold,

  Power…

  Forward, legs apart with a slight lean and heavier to a foot, bounce between—

  Never-been-told,

  All face and micro-work!

  Power.

  Keep the damn face up!

  Sound in the air,

  Don’t stop shifting!

  Power!

  The moment it stops—

  Say your last prayer!

  POWER!

  It had to be perfect.

  Stomp backwards, beat-beat-beat-beat—

  It goes like—

  Quiet.

  Freeze.

  Knees bent, side, side, side, side.

  Louder… louder, louder! Louder! LOUDER!

  Jun immediately hit the off button on the watch.

  The room was silent now.

  Completely silent.

  But he could still hear the noise of the chase.

  Silver Lining, the song about the chase.

  A chase…

  It was slow at first, but the warm sensation in his cheeks was surely spreading to his ears and down his neck. Jun let his knees give in, and he collapsed onto the carpet floor.

  His heart was pounding.

  —bmmp, bmmp, bmmp, bmmp

  It was fast, and loud.

  His eyes were possessed, and the blush intensified.

  “Just what…” He put his hands to his mouth.

  It was instinctual. Pure deduction and biology.

  Jun knew what had overcome him.

  At the same time, he couldn’t understand.

  He couldn’t understand why.

  Or how.

  “Just what… can I do…?”