Chapter 11: A Parallax of Three Part 1
A/N: I know! I know! This chapter is like a week overdue, and I can't even blame the holidays. What can I say? Writing buildup isn't the most fun thing in the world to do. BUT Here is the first part of a three-part chapter. That is why I am so late posting it. I was trying to get everything in one chapter and, as usual, there's just too much material. The song lyrics used in this chapter are from the song 'Untitled, 2014' by G-Dragon. They are translated from Korean so the accuracy may not be perfect but it's the best one I could find.
Huge props to Emimilykity. She helped me tremendously this chapter. Just about all of Zen's dialogue has been re-worked by her because I just couldn't find his voice. She's my go-to for all things Zen and she did a wonderful job putting my ideas into his words. She's currently working a Yoosung one-shot that is just...amazing. Seriously, go follow her because you do not want to miss what she's working on.
I want to address the fact that Ray's route will be out the end of next month. Whatever happens in that route will not affect my story. This story is based off the original game and secret endings. I'm not a huge fan of 'Another Story', other than the fact that Ray is perfect and his voice just...ugh, anyway I probably won't even play his route until I'm done writing this as I don't want his characterization to influence what I have going on here. I'm of the opinion that 'Another Story' is an alternate universe that Cheritz created of their own world. I'm not working in that universe (at least not at the moment). That said I hope you enjoy this chapter! HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Music:
Surrender - Natalie Taylor
Only Love (Acoustic) - Pvris
Where's My Love (Piano Solo) - SYML
(Please see additional notes at the end)
"So, what are we watching?" Throwing himself down on the sofa beside you, Zen drapes an arm over its back, taking a long pull from the can of beer in his other hand. "Horror, action, romance…?"
It's been hours since you had lunch at a nearby restaurant to catch up on what feels like months of being apart. Although the urge to spill your guts about the most pressing issues of your life was tempting, you managed to keep the most important of your worries to yourself. You had to be careful about what you revealed, considering every word that passed your lips to ensure Zen wouldn't get suspicious. It's not in your nature to be untruthful; it's the entire reason you've always been so insistent with Saeyoung that there be no secrets between you. Lying by omission is still lying and the fact that you had to stare at your friend across the small table and pretend nothing is wrong turned the knot of stress in your stomach into a heavy stone. Laying eyes on the beaming actor, who only had eyes for you, had not done much to alleviate that sick feeling but it did draw many a nasty glance as he sat down across from you. It's not something uncommon when you appear in public with your friend, but after four years you still can't quite get used to the unwarranted venom of jealous fans. Not bothering to read the menu, he'd merely ordered what you were having and immediately jumped into conversation about his newest role and the training that comes along with it. He was like a breath of fresh air, but there's no doubt in your mind you would have been able to better enjoy your time together if not for the secret that consumes your every waking moment.
"Romance, of course," you answer now with a smirk, pointing the remote at the television and hitting 'play'. Secretly you're relieved to be out of the general population where you can fully be yourself. How Zen ever puts up with so much scrutiny, you will never understand. You take a long pull of the beer in your hand and tuck your legs beneath you. "The only things Saeyoung will watch are horror, sci-fi, and fantasy," you explain, settling back as the movie loads. "You can only watch so many robots become sentient before you feel like you're just watching the same movie over and over."
You friend chuckles, crossing his feet on the table in front of you. "I always figured Saeyoung for a comedy guy," he remarks, then groans when the opening scene appears on the screen. "Oh, come on! Seriously? This one again?"
"Excuse you," you remark, raising one perfectly arched brow. "A Moment to Remember is the perfect movie when you need a good cry; which I do." Your second brow joins the first as you stare at your friend. "And why would you assume that my husband enjoys comedies? Just because he enjoys goofing around doesn't mean he's not a serious person. Once upon a time, he did manage to save my life without a scratch on me. You of all people should realize you can't judge a book by its cover."
Zen grins at you with a sheepish expression, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry."
Biting your lip, you hold his gaze for a few moments before the urge to laugh become too strong and finally burst into fits of giggles. Your friend stares at you in confusion until you're able to catch your breath and explain. "I'm just messing with you. Of course Saeyoung enjoys comedies, but I do too, so I don't complain."
"You…" he grumbles and grabs the square pillow that lays beside him, knocking it gently on your head as you resume giggling.
"Sorry," you gasp, holding your stomach. "You're just too easy. It's so cute the way your face get all flushed when you're embarrassed," you tease, poking at one reddened cheek, the bright color standing out against his pale skin. Playfully he smacks your hand away and your head drops to his shoulder, small bouts of laughter still shaking your frame.
"Stop teasing me and watch your tearjerker," he commands, placing the pillow between you, and you adjust your body to a more comfortable position, your head still resting against him.
Zen's begins to idly play with your hair as you turn your attention to the story unfolding on screen. A small purr of delight escapes your throat, your body relaxing as his long, capable fingers occasionally massage your scalp and he pauses. "Don't stop," you complain, reaching up to lightly tap his hand. "That feels nice." After a moment of hesitation, his digits resume their gentle rhythm and you sigh in contentment.
A half hour into the movie, you drain the remainder of your drink and sigh. "She's beautiful, even when she's crying," you comment in admiration about the actress beaming tearfully up at her co-star.
Your friend hums in agreement. "You always say that, but she can't hold a candle to you," he retorts and you snort, immune to his pretty words.
"Speaking of beauty, what happened to that woman you were seeing? The really pretty one," you inquire, twisting your head to look at him.
"You really have been on another planet," Zen teases. "I stopped seeing her months ago when she tried to seduce the head douche of C&R."
You gasp in horror. "What? How does she even know Jumin?"
"I introduced them," he answers grimly before draining his own beverage. "We happened to end up at the same restaurant he was having dinner with his father at. For some reason I still can't fathom, he stopped by our table to say hello. Two days later she showed up at his office unannounced and threw herself at the jerk."
"Did he force Jaehee to tell you, or did he actually inform you himself?"
Zen lets out a bark of angry laughter. "Oh, he was more than eager to break the news himself that I was seeing a gold digging...anyway, I've been kind of put off from dating since."
"Oh, Zen, I'm sorry," you console, an arm wrapping around his slim waist to comfort him. "One day I know you're going to find someone that's perfect for you."
"I could have sworn I already did," he simpers, "but it turns out she has strange taste in men. That cross-dressing weirdo seriously does it for you?"
While you know he is teasing, you can't help but acknowledge there is some truth to his words. There was an instant connection between you when you blindly entered their private chat room all those years ago. He was the first to befriend you and did everything in his power to make you feel welcome. Many nights you spent on the phone with him as he alleviated the loneliness and isolation you felt. More than once he'd hinted that he was interested in pursuing more than a friendship with you, but when it became apparent to everyone that you and the eccentric secret agent of the group developed feelings for one another, he quickly backed off. Since then he's been a loyal confidante, albeit an extremely flirty one.
"He really does," you sigh dreamily, the thought of his practically perpetual grin and quirky style bringing a smile to your face. You don't know if it's the alcohol you've been consuming for the past few hours or the overwhelming love you have for the unconventional man who is your husband, or both, but thinking of how dead the spark in his eyes was as they pleaded with you not to leave brings sudden tears to your own. Sitting up, you swipe at your cheeks, the urge to call Saeyoung so great that you find yourself reaching for your bag where it sits beside you. As soon as your fingers touch the soft leather you regain your senses and pull your hand back with a dejected sigh.
"You ok?" Zen passes you a box of tissues, his voice laced with concern. "You usually don't start crying until at least halfway through."
"I'm fine," you answer tearfully, accepting his offering. You pull a couple of the white objects from the container, then blow your nose and stand. "I'm going to get another beer, you want one?"
Ignoring the crimson gaze of your friend, you take his empty can along with yours to the small kitchen, tossing them into the recycling bin. Opening the refrigerator and peering inside, you let out a disappointed sigh when you realize all the alcohol is gone. Dragging yourself back to the living room, you rest your weight on your forearms near Zen's head. "We're out of beer," you inform him with a pout, propping your chin in one hand, observing the heart-wrenching scene playing out on the television.
The movie is so familiar you are able to recite the script line by line, much to your best friend's amusement. You don't know exactly what it is about this particular film that draws your interest so much, but the story of a man's wife developing early-onset Alzheimer's pulls at your heartstrings in a bittersweet way. Saeyoung manages to invade your thoughts once again and you can't help but wonder how he would react in the same situation. Years ago he confessed that his only fear was you forgetting him, so you imagine if something similar to what you're currently watching happened, your spouse would lose his mind. The compulsion to call him again engulfs you and you reach for your bag, but only to sling it over your shoulder.
"Come on," you tell your friend, tugging at his long ponytail. Making your way to the front door to slip on your shoes, you grin at his confused look. "We're going to buy more beer."
"And how are we going to do that? I don't think either of us is in any condition to drive at the moment," he answers sensibly.
"There's a store a couple of blocks away, right?" At his nod you stand and cross the room to grab his hand, pulling him to his feet. "So let's go. The fresh air will sober us up enough to drink more," you cajole and give him another grin. "My treat, as a thank you."
"Thanks for what?" He gives in and slips on his shoes, grabbing his keys as you exit the semi-basement apartment.
You skip up the few steps to the sidewalk and glance at him over your shoulder. "For loaning me your couch for the night, of course."
Zen freezes, blinking up at you from the bottom of the steps. "You're staying the night?" When you nod, his cheeks pinken and he clears his throat. "Do you...are you sure that's a good idea?"
Turning to meet his gaze, you place your hands on your hips. "I think it's a fabulous idea," you retort. "I'm not going home, not with things the way they are right now, and I don't have anywhere else to go where I won't be bombarded with a million questions." Pausing, an impish smirk curves your lips. "Don't worry, my lovely Zen, I promise not to slip into your bed in the middle of the night."
Zen lets out a puff of laughter from his nose and jogs up the steps to your side. "As if I'd worry about that happening! I'd just rather not get decked by your husband for getting the wrong idea.
Your face falls at the mention of your husband and you turn your face away briefly before tilting your head up to peer at him, forcing a smile and shrug. "Saeyoung won't care; he trusts you. Now come on, I'm not nearly inebriated enough and the night is still young."
You ignore the look of doubt your companion graces you with and loop your arm through his, pulling him in the direction of the nearest convenience store. "What are you trying to forget, anyway?" he inquires, falling into step beside you, shortening his stride to match yours.
For a few moments you ignore the question, eyes downcast to the sidewalk. How much do you reveal? The truth would shock him and you can picture the lecture you would receive. Putting that aside, it's not only your secret to tell. Finally, you wave a hand in dismissal and lift your head to meet his intense stare, hoping, for once, that you are able to lie convincingly. "Oh, nothing much," you proclaim, praying your perceptive friend will not detect your deception. "Just this and that."
Zen's brows furrow in irritation. "You're really not going to tell me what's going on at home? Is it Saeyoung again? What'd he do this time?"
"No," you deny, the volume of your voice higher than you'd intended. "No," you repeat in a softer voice. "Things between us are...fine."
"Well, is it his brother?" your friend, who is so much more like a brother himself, persists.
Either by fate or a massive coincidence, you pause in front of the large picture window of an ice cream parlor. Inside the cheerfully bright interior, couples sit at compact tables that encourage a sense of intimacy. For a brief moment, you imagine Saeran and yourself seated at one of the tiny, round tables, hands clasped for all the world to see. It's something you want for him; want for both of you. Your love isn't something that should be hidden in shadows but put on display like the beautiful thing it is. Saeran deserves to proudly display the love he's found. For someone who never thought he was worth loving, it's crucial for you shower him with every last drop of love you have for him. You turn your body to face the man who towers over you, giving him a sad smile. "I know you mean well, Zen, but this is something I have to work through on my own. I swear, when I'm able to share everything that's going on, you will be the first person I call."
When the pair of you resume walking to your destination, both spouses pervade your thoughts and you fall back into silence. Your mind persists in bouncing back and forth between the two men, refusing to stay on one long enough for you to address your concerns before switching to the other. While you've told the truth about Saeyoung's opinion of you crashing at the thespian's home, it doesn't take much thought to realize that Saeran won't like the idea; in fact, you have no illusions that he won't be absolutely livid if he finds out.
The sun has already disappeared well beyond the horizon and the numerous street lights provide a dimly lit guide along the strip of shops, the bright lights of each establishment pouring out of open doors to help illuminate your path. "How is your brother-in-law?" Your friend's innocent, concerned question throws you into a tailspin, and you mumble out a reply as snippets of the two lives you're leading play through your mind like a silent movie.
Dual smiles that are so different yet similar at the same time; gazes of devotion warming you even as your chest tightens with grief. All you want at the moment is to run to both of them; to feel the solid reassurance of their embrace.
The morning's events, before Saeyoung's anger exploded, cause you to contemplate what their separate interests in observing you with the other means and why it doesn't bother you in the least. Does the fact that you enjoyed being watched make you an exhibitionist? Are the twins voyeurists? Do you even care if they are? You never even considered the fact that deep inside you've been hiding any type of unconventional proclivity to the kinkier aspects of sex, but now curiosity about your own sexuality makes you want to discover just how far you're willing to go to explore this newly discovered facet of yourself.
Strangely enough, you've known since the second day of chatting with the mysterious and closely guarded seven zero seven over the clever messenger he developed that he was a kindred spirit; someone who understood your sense of humor and could possibly give your heart to. Oh, who are you kidding? Your heart was his the moment your phone conversations turned into more than mere banter. The scraps of personal information he let slip during your frequent, late-night talks revealed a man you were desperate to know. When it was obvious he was trying to hide his feelings from you, you were at the point of no return. Something about the chemistry between you and the way his voice made your body tingle and your stomach flutter convinced you he was someone special to you and always would be; even if he couldn't-or wouldn't-pursue anything deeper with you than a casual flirtation. That is until he could no longer hide his feelings that overtook him as quickly as your own. Yes, it had taken a lot of work to convince him that he was worthy of your love and that a life together was not only possible but inevitable. No one could deny the sparks that flew between you.
Compared to your previous sexual encounters, the first time Saeyoung touched you was more than just a physical exploration, it was a melding of your bodies and souls that left you breathless and willing to do anything to protect this precious man who loves you so freely and swears he would lay down his life for you if needs be. Nobody, not even your parents, has ever made you feel as loved and cherished as Saeyoung does.
Now, not only do you have an amazing husband who has been through hell and back and still managed to learn how to love, but you also have his other half. The brother who possesses his brother's looks, but a completely different personality. A man who seems to have survived the nine circles of hell yet still found the courage to let you and his brother undertake the difficult task of supporting him through his withdrawals from the drugs, in addition to overcoming the mental and physical abuse Rika plied him with for years. It had taken a long time for Saeran to trust his brother, and even longer to trust you, but now you have no doubt of his love for you; and yours for him.
Zen slides his hand down to grasp yours, pulling you to a stop to face him. Gently he wipes away the salty wetness that has pooled at the corners of your mouth, his ruby eyes full of sympathy. Unaware that you've been crying, you blink up at him, seeing the question he wants to ask, but before he can give it voice, you smile brightly and tug him along to the store that's only two doors down.
Pushing into the brightly lit market, the two of you make your way to the cooler and stand debating over the various brands and flavors of beer to purchase. "Just grab a couple of what you usually drink," you finally declare, not really knowing the difference between all the different brews. You quickly grab a bottle of soju and head for the cashier, confident that your friend is following you. You quickly hand the cashier a credit card Saeyoung provided you in case of emergencies, thinking silently that if needing to forget temporarily that two men-brothers-are currently at odds with one another because of a nobody like you isn't an emergency, you don't know what is. At this point in the evening, you just want to drown out all the stress going on in your life and disappear into the oblivion of an alcoholic haze where everything in the world is beautiful and worry-free.
After leaving the store, hands full of plastic bags containing your adult beverages in addition to the numerous snacks you randomly picked up on your way to the front, the pair of you make your way back towards Zen's residence. From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a small playground in the distance. Squealing excitedly, you bounce on the balls of your feet and take off at a run, leaving your friend no choice but to chase after you. "Where are you going?" he laughs to your retreating form, his long legs allowing him to quickly catch up to you.
Your feet hit the sandy dirt housing a small swing set, and you drop your purchases on the ground at its side. Plopping onto one of the plastic seats, you push off with your feet, leaning your head back to stare up at the star-studded sky, your giggles ringing out into the still night. Zen follows your lead and sets his bags down next to yours, taking a seat next to you, but keeping his feet firmly on the ground as he watches you with an amused grin.
For a short amount of time you are able to clear your mind of the delicate balance you must somehow find between the two men you love so dearly and just enjoy the feeling of the warm night air caressing your body as you sway higher. You find yourself understanding your husband's fascination with space as each upswing seems to bring you ever closer to that endless sea of black, dotted with beautiful specks of twinkling lights. What you wouldn't give to get lost in that infinite expanse of silence, beholden to no one or anything. Guilt assails you at these selfish thoughts and you allow your momentum to slow and finally stop. Your long hair hiding your face as you stare down at your feet, making small circles with the toe of your sneaker. Your hands grip the swing's chain handles and you start when a gentle hand pushes back your hair to reveal your tear-soaked face.
"What's on your mind, hm? I hate seeing you this upset," the amusement your friend watched you with mere moments ago is replaced by compassion, bringing on a fresh bout of tears.
Standing, you rummage through the various bags nearby until you find the bottle you're seeking and return to your seat. Unscrewing the top of the strong liquor, you take a healthy swig, your body shuddering as it leaves a trail of fire down your throat.
"Woah," Zen chides, taking the small bottle from your fingers and setting it down in the sand at his feet. "I know you're trying to drown your sorrows, but I really don't think this is the way to go about it," he pauses, peering at you. "You can talk to me, you know. It helps to talk your worries out."
Stretching your legs out in front of you, you once again lean your head back and let out a small puff of laughter. "Oh Zen, if only I could," you sigh.
Your comrade pulls two sweating bottles of beer from your purchases, opening one and handing it to you. As you take a long drink of the bitter brew, he opens his mouth to speak before snapping it back shut. Giving his head a small shake, he downs half his own bottle then appears to find the courage to ask what's on his mind. Before facing you, he clears his throat and looks down at the ground between his knees. "Does...God, what I mean is: is Saeyoung stepping out on you?"
"What?" The question is so incomprehensible you're unable to process it immediately. Saeyoung's faithfulness has never been something you've worried about. Of course, he enjoys porn just as much as the next guy, the two of you have even watched it together from time to time, but to think that your husband would seek the company of another woman is inconceivable. "No," you shake your head, taking a swig of your drink. "Saeyoung is the most loyal person I've ever met. He wouldn't do something like that to me."
Zen gives a short chuckle, his thumb picking at the label on his bottle as he tries to think of the least offensive way to ask what he wants to know. "I don't even know why this crossed my mind. I already know the answer, but I've still got to ask...MC, you're not seeing someone else, are you?"
Your eyes return to the ground and you push off to make the swing sway slowly. It takes a while for you to answer, your thoughts a jumbled mess. "I love Saeyoung," you whisper, the swing coming to a standstill.
"Hah. See? I already knew. He's a lucky guy." He reaches over and tucks your hair behind your ear, revealing the miserable look on your face.
A sad smile graces your lips as you meet his gaze, trying your best not to cry. "It's complicated."
"Huh?" Your friend's brows twitch down in confusion, your answer not what he was expecting. "Babe, you're not saying...Haha! I must have misheard you. There's no way you'd do that."
Draining your bottle, you reach for another and twist off the top, downing half its contents before gaining the courage to continue. "There is someone else," you confess, doing everything you can to avoid your friend's gaze.
"Does Saeyoung know?" At your nod, Zen shoots to his feet and begins to pace in front of you. "What the hell is going on?!" His outrage shames you and you make a futile attempt to wipe the silent tears that have managed to leak from your eyes away before he can see them. Before you know what's happening Zen is on his knees before you, pulling you into an embrace and burying his face in your hair. "God, please don't cry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you; I'm just concerned for you." Pulling away, he releases you to push the hair from your face before wiping away the tears that are still falling. "I swear I won't press you about this anymore. Tell me in your own time, but don't forget I'm here for whatever you need." Pulling away, you sniffle and nod. Zen once again tucks your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to trace the curve of your cheek. "I hate seeing you this way." A strange light appears in his eyes and he gives you a grin. "I know what will cheer you up; give me your phone."
"Why mine?" you ask, already digging through your bag to retrieve the latest version of your smartphone and handing it to the smiling man before you.
"I left mine at home," he explains, powering on the device and opening up the huge list of music housed on it. Scrolling down, he finds the song he's looking for and hands the phone back to you. "You've been bugging me for weeks to learn the choreography for that song. So let's do it."
You look at the phone and back at your friend who has positioned himself in the center of the playground. "B-But, I'm just an amateur. I'm going to look stupid doing this in front of you."
"How long did it take you to learn the routine?" Arms crossed Zen quirks an eyebrow in question.
"Months! And I still can't do it without counting my steps, especially drunk," you laugh, but get to your feet and move to your friend's side. Shaking your head at your foolishness, you hit play and drop the phone to the soft ground.
"One more thing," Zen inserts quickly. "If I can learn this routine after two tries, I get to pick the next song."
Narrowing your eyes slightly, you hold out your hand for him to shake then bend over to restart the song. You close your eyes, trying through your drunken haze to remember the steps involved, keenly aware of Zen's eyes watching you. Your body begins to move to the beat of the music and your friend lets out a loud, surprised bark of laughter when your hips begin to thrust in earnest. With your mind occupied counting your steps, there is no room to worry about the mess that is your life and you give yourself over to the rhythm of the notes flowing through you. Halfway through the routine, you open your eyes to see Zen concentrating on your steps and mimicking your movements.
You've seen all of your friend's performances and there's never been a doubt that his talent exceeds the opportunities he's been given. Casting directors love his good looks and artistic talent but many feel he's too pretty to play the roles he's auditioning for. It's a constant frustration to him. Watching him now, you think that if he wasn't so in love with musical theatre he could have an extremely successful career as a dancer.
When the song ends, Zen bends over and rests his hands on his knees to catch his breath and glances up at you. "You couldn't have picked something harder?" You open your mouth to remind him that he's the one who chose the song, but he waves you away. "I don't need another run-through. Just take a seat and restart the song."
Doing as you're told, you sit back down on the plastic swing seat and restart the song, your eyes glued to the striking form of your friend as he moves to the beginning notes of the hip-hop song. You're unaware of the grin of pleasure that splits your face watching him, amazed at the way his body moves so fluidly. You don't know how he's done it, but he doesn't miss one step in the routine and when he's done you stand, clapping enthusiastically for him.
"That was amazing!" you praise him sincerely. "Why haven't you tried a dancing career? You would be at the top for sure."
"And deny the world my beautiful singing voice? I think not," your friend smiles, catching his breath. Plucking your phone from your hand, he once again scrolls through your list of songs until he comes to one he deigns passable. "Now it's my turn to choose."
The smooth melody of a piano begins to play, closely followed by the equally smooth voice of the male singer. Rolling your eyes, you allow Zen to clasp your hand to pull you into a short waltz. Almost immediately you step on his toes and giggle uncontrollably, the alcohol you've been consuming finally catching up to you.
"Just relax and let me lead," Zen laughs, then pulls you close and places your arms around his neck when you still manage to trip over his feet. "Better?" You nod and he sets his hands on your hips, careful to keep them in a respectful position. "Now I can see why it took you months to learn one routine," he leans down to tease in your ear, "you're a terrible dancer."
Laughing, lay your head on his broad chest as he restarts the song. You immediately recognize it where you didn't before and tears spring to your eyes even before the first lyric is even sung.
"I know that
It's difficult and hard to come back to me"
Zen sways you in a slow circle as Saeyoung's voice promptly calls to you from the song's lyrics, your mood instantly somber.
"I know that
You no longer want to get hurt and you're afraid"
The man in whose arms you rest clears his throat. "I know it's not my place to say so, but...I don't think Saeyoung realizes how special you are."
Your head rolls against the hard muscles of his chest. "I'm not that special, Zen. There are a million girls like me." But I am a very lucky one.
"It may be easier
To die than to be forgiven by you"
You forgave him the instant you stepped out of the coolness of the bunker into the harsh sunlight. While his words had been unkind and hurtful, they weren't anything you couldn't forgive. In all honesty, you could probably forgive Saeyoung for anything. Yes, he lets his anger or jealousy overtake his better senses at times, but deep down no one has a heart as gold as he does.
"I sing this song, but
I don't know if my true intentions will reach you
I want you to be happy"
Memories of those endless days living in Rika's apartment return to you in a rush. How many times did he insist he just wanted you to be happy? The only thing Saeyoung has ever wanted is for you to be happy. Didn't he try to sacrifice his own due to some misguided notion that he could never give you the happiness he believed you deserved?
"I can't even lie, such a common thing
And I only pray that you'll come back, I'm sorry"
You thought you'd be able to come out tonight, let off a bit of steam with your friend and end the night magically knowing the answers to all your problems. But in an instant, it all feels wrong. The hands on your hips are too loose, their fingers too long. The whiff of tobacco intermingling with the soft, floral scent from your friend's shampoo is so much different from the fresh, clean one of your Saeyoung's. The chest your head rests on is too hard, the muscles well cut and defined from daily workouts and rehearsals.
This isn't what you want. You adore your friend but all you want is to be with your twins. You long to drag them both into a room where all three of you can air your grievances and concerns; to stay locked in that room until you finally come to the decision that you know is inevitable. The three of you belong together.
"No, even in the next life
I want to meet you and love you again
Just like we did before"
The song ends with the vocalist's heartfelt plea to his lover and you blink hard to keep your tears at bay. Clearing your throat, you pluck your phone from Zen's fingers and lock the screen, before pasting a bright smile on your face. "I'm hungry," you declare, smacking his abdomen with the back of your hand, "how about you?"
Zen pauses before answering, his eyes searching yours before giving you a slow nod. "I could eat."
"Great! Oh! Let's go get some stir fry, I am dying for some," you give him a mischievous grin and scoop down to grab your purchases that you happened to end up next to. "Last one to the sidewalk pays for dinner!" Before your friend can react, you crook your ankle behind his and push against his chest with all your might. He goes down-but barely-onto the soft sand and you take off at a run in the opposite direction.
"You're going to be buying dessert, too, after that," he laughs after you. Glancing quickly over your shoulder you can see he's already on his feet and halfway to you.
Squealing, you drop your bags to gain some speed but soon feel Zen's large hands grasp your waist and lift you into the air. Throwing your head back, you let out a loud peal of laughter, your legs kicking out in front of you as he spins you around. It's in that moment that you both realize just how much you've had to drink as dizziness overtakes you and you collapse to the ground in a fit of giggles.
"Ow," you groan humorously, massaging one hip as you rest your weight on one arm. Your feet rest firmly on the now hardpacked earth, your knees pulled slightly up with Zen hovering over you, his hands resting by your hips, his forehead on your shaking shoulder. If you weren't quite so drunk you would realize how bad this position might look to a mere bystander.
This fact comes to full comprehension when the heat from Zen's body is pulled away from you at a rapid pace. You blink once or twice then realize your friend his lying prone on the ground beside you, Saeran's hand pinning him to the ground by his throat as he straddles the older man. Oh God, no, please.
Carefully you pick yourself up and move into Saeran's view. "You move a single muscle and I will fuck your throat up so much you'll never sing another note again," he's hissing down at his captive and you freeze.
There's something different about Saeran's voice and most certainly his demeanor. You haven't seen him this wound up and violent since…"Saeran," you prod, reaching out a hand to touch his arm.
"Get back, Princess! I don't want you getting hurt!" His head turns to meet your gaze and your body goes cold; this isn't Saeran. His voice echoes from your past, a memory of broken glass and a maniacal giggle. He peers at you, a bright gleam of possessive madness in his eyes, and you shake your head in denial. That's not possible. When he speaks again, however, there can be no doubt. "We warned you, didn't we? Didn't we tell you to be careful around him?"
Additional Notes: SO, Unknown. I've known from around chapter three or four that I wanted him included in this story. I was planning a much darker direction with him but I got to researching Saeran's condition and just didn't feel comfortable tackling it when I hadn't set up his alter's appearance soon enough. However, it's a part of who he is. It's not something he can be "cured" of and not something that is going to go away. So I began planning a different direction for Unknown and found a lovely person on Facebook who was kind enough to share her experience with DID. I now feel that I have enough of an understanding of this disorder to include it. If I get something wrong, I apologize in advance. I hope to convey Saeran's experience accurately and respectfully.