Still I Dream of the Future

[rielity]

Still I Dream of the Future
yunho-centric; ot5/bandfic || dbsk
pg || angst
oneshot ||
disclaimer || dbsk belongs to sm entertainment. i do not make any monetary benefit from the publication of this story.
summary || it isn't easy holding on to almost-impossible hopes.



it starts off silently like a thief in the darkness; the tears fall to the white pillow; drip-drop, drip-drop, he hears (in his heart, of course, because the pillow absorbs all sound); somewhere in the midst of all the drips and drops he thinks he hears his heart shatter into miniscule pieces

it's probably shattered this way for more than five time, six times, seven times even; he wonders how his heart ever grew to be this strong, and he thinks of merry dinners and jokes so random that they laugh until their chests hurt all over and he thinks maybe the laughter has caused his heart to grow strong against the tears

it hurts so damn bad; sometimes they settle down together on the couch to watch re-runs of their performances; they never get further than the introduction before one of them strides in front of the television and turns it off; they sit in stone-cold silence to the hum of the radiator which sits in the corner of the room

the pillow itself holds no memory of tears; the fabric remains soft and smells of familiarity and home; but what is home, he doesn't really know (maybe he remembers, but that's all in the past); he wants to hurl something at the wall that's ginning maliciously at his tired drawn features but the company won't be pleased (and he's not about to risk it); he picks up his phone and sends a text

they call him back (they always do); they call him back instantaneously, reply his texts with a video call, but he rejects them all; his pride is too high for him to want to let other people hear his tears and see his swollen eyes

but still he dreams of what could be; the pillow is frayed at the edges and he always sews it back; he wants to sew and sew and draw the threads ever closer, ever tighter, because he can't sew friendships back together, can't sew a brotherhood any closer because he's afraid if he sews them together he'll tear them apart; he's twenty-four, he knows that sewing too much can tear it apart and yet he keeps on sewing, on and on and on

one day a hole bursts in the pillow, and he works to sew it back together; knotted snitches of red-coloured strands replacing the originally worn-out white

when he goes to sleep he realizes that he can't smell anymore, can't smell the friendship and love; a hole tears open in his heart, gnaws angrily at him from the inside out, rips at his eyes and pulls at his stretched heartstrings; he cries and cries and somebody (anybody) comes and says hyung, hyung, it's okay, hyung, i'm here, hyung, i'm here; but he claws at them in sorrow-induced fury; no, no, no, it's not gonna be okay, it won't be okay, you're here but they're not, no, no, no; he cries himself to sleep in a dreamless paradise of red threads and smiling faces

he wakes up to swollen red eyes and no voice; he tries to cover them up but his dongsaeng comes in, eyes bloodshot and dried tears at the edges, crying no, hyung, please, don't do this to me and he hears someone (in his memories, perhaps) wailing and biting out between wrenching sobs echo don't do this to me but he thinks it's just an illusion, a far-off memory; until the door slams open and a figure stumbles in, all loud cries of hyung! and suddenly he feels warm (he hadn't realised it was cold, to tell the truth) and sinks back into comforting embraces and falls into oblivion

they watch him sleep, eyebags and dark circles hidden by streaked makeup and black hoods; they're not supposed to be here, but when their youngest got the call from his best friend (amidst death threats and blackmail as is per normal) they knew that they had to come back (even if it means lying to their manager); their youngest dongsaeng comes back with painfully familiar mugs of hot chocolate; the oldest raises an eyebrow, you still keep them?; he nods in reply, voice too hoarse to speak (i've always known you'd come back, there was no way you could never come back); they sit in silence watching, breathing, feeling the warmth of the four bodies pressed closely together on the couch, and nothing else has felt more right

in the morning he wakes up, four faces swimming in the morning sunlight; he shakes his head, he must be hallucinating, there's only one, only one left behind, until the oldest (or someone who sounds like him) says it's us, we're here; and the floodgates open in disbelief, brown eyes widen in the sheer surreality of it all; why are you here, how can you be here, i'm still dreaming aren't i he whispers through dry lips even as he feels his cheeks grow wet

there is silence when suddenly another voice speaks, a low husky murmur; we're here, hyung, we're really here, we're not leaving you 

he sits up suddenly, taking them all aback; standing up he gazes at their faces (they've all grown old by ten years when he hasn't seen them for one, he thinks) and their eyes suddenly look too dark in their gaunt faces; i've missed you so much he manages at last, locking eyes with his one and only hyung; they smile and draw him in for a hug and he can't help thinking this is how it should be there shouldn't be any other way

all too soon they have to leave but as they exit the door with sunglasses and coats and caps even though it's a sunny day they turn back to wave at him and one of them sings;

I can't let you go
You are the only one in my life

-

dbsk, tohoshinki, tvxq, cassiopeia are always keeping the faith, please hold on, just a little more; we think we're having a tough job believing in you but in truth you guys are having an even harder time believing in yourselves; just remember that cassiopeia will always be here right by you when you need us

aktf (forever)