This came out of nowhere.
And I kinda liked it, so.
Warning: involves OCs.
It was impossible from the beginning. That’s what I thought sometime of my life, and you probably thought that too. Yes, the thought was cliché. Yes, our whole relationship was based around that word: cliché. No, it didn’t end like we thought it would. It was something so utterly un-cliché, that we could’ve never suspected it.
When you oh-so-carelessly announced the fact that you were in love with me, the fans went wild. Your fellow group members were worried at your tone. It was new to them; they had never seen this side of you before.
I was a different case to you; a person that did not fall for your ‘happy-go-lucky’ smile, your mature charms, and your pretty face. I fascinated you. You analysed me, followed me everywhere. Every program I was on, you were there.
People noticed our ‘relationship’, how we’d always talk to each other, how you were always so close to me. They didn’t know you were trying to make me fall for you. Failure was not part of your vocabulary, and you did not use that word. Ever.
When I had accepted your confession, many people commented on how perfect we were for each other, ‘soul mates’. I had secretly laughed at that word. You and I were never destined for each other, never soul mates. Yet, we had decided to ignore Destiny.
We were the best actors alive. Even our own group members believed us, even though Rachael and Leeteuk took some time to fool. They were supposed to be our mothers, after all. We kissed, but felt no emotion, we hugged, dated, gave each other presents, but they were mere props and scenes in our act.
I never expected you to fall for me; I had already firmly made the decision that you did not, and would not love me. It was impossible, or so I had thought. How I realised was easy, the way you acted around me, the way you talked, you made it simple.
You didn’t expect me to return your feelings. Even I was surprised. To fall in love with you, it was like to sign a contract with the Devil. That time, when we were asked to kiss in front of the media, the kiss was unlike the ones we had before. We felt something, and it wasn’t a feeling of disgust.
Ga Yeon threw a fit when she found out. Called me a ‘disgusting unfeeling puppet’. No one bothered to protect me, and I suppose I knew why. I wanted to be yelled at, screamed at. It was my fault, after all. Anything to get you out of my unfeeling mind.
The day we broke up was everywhere. Fans cheered, wept, and your group members were confused. You had acted so in love with me, so lovesick, but as soon as we broke up, you were normal, like nothing had ever happened. Like the world never had you and me in the same sentence.
Did you know? I secretly cried myself to sleep after that day. It was hell, and I was the one to have called it off. I guess that meant you really were a devil, and I had broken the contract. I broke my heart in the process, too.
When I went to watch your concert for the last time, you sang your solo, looking directly at me, like you knew I was there. Your eyes moved away from me for an instant. That was all I needed to escape, before I changed my mind.
I remember you frantically calling my name as my consciousness drifted in and out. I wanted to laugh at how you had gotten frantic over little me, but it hurt too much. I held your hand as I disappeared, as I left you alone, all alone, on this earth.
I watch you sing now; as you painfully force yourself to smile. Your friends can see through it, and so can I. I slowly reach for your arm, ready to pat you, and tell you to relax. Then, I realise you can’t see me, feel me or hear me. I kiss you one more time; one more time before I can never see you again. You touch your lips like you felt something, and I smile. Even in death, I suppose you still feel me. As I slowly feel myself fade, I say, “I love you.”
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