팔
NIKKO
I can feel Lalo-hyung’s eyes on me. I’m probably making him crazy, pacing back and forth across the length of the room as he tries to write. I can see him scribbling on the yellow lined paper he prefers for writing lyrics, furiously making notes about something, then scratching them out, trying again. The configuration of scribbles changes a little bit every time I loop past him.
If I were sharing this hotel room with anyone else, I am sure they would have told me to sit down or get out by now. I feel fortunate that it is Lalo I’m in this small space with; he has always been my favorite roommate. The similarities in our personalities are a blessing in so many ways. While I appreciate that Lux is such a good balance for me—bold and outgoing, where I’m often content to stay back and observe—Lalo is the one who understands my anxiety and restlessness. He says he often feels it, too, though he’s better at hiding or managing it. Maybe some of that will come with time, with age, or whatever it is that he has found that I have not yet.
I know he’s watching me as I make another circle, just like he has glanced up every so often for as long as I have been doing this. It has probably been close to an hour, which I know is crazy, but I cannot settle down. There is nowhere for me to go except to the other member’s rooms and even that would cause more trouble than it is worth, having to call security to make sure the hall is clear and no one opens a door while I make my way. And truthfully, I don’t want to see them right now. To have to answer their questions when I don’t even know how or what I would say. I can’t take any more of the teasing, either. I know it is all good fun for them, because they love me, because this is all so new. But it’s also so much.
I can’t stop thinking about Jase. I don’t want to stop, but I couldn’t even if I did. Now that I’ve seen him, been with him, up close and personal. So personal I can still remember the press of his body against mine, the pleasure I had experienced that I didn’t even know was possible, the taste of him that lingered on my lips after we had parted. I hoped for all of it, and then when I had it, it was almost too much.
The date night was something out of a fantasy for me. I had nearly lost my breath when Jase had called me “naekkeo,” whether it was mistake or unconscious, hearing that possessive term sparked something inside me. I wanted to be claimed, called his . I was. I am. We both know it.
These feelings are so new for me, so overwhelming that I can’t fathom how I am supposed to contain them. How I am meant to carry on about my life normally, as if nothing has changed. As if I’m not a different person than I was before the nights we spent together.
And then I ruined it. I let him leave, both of us in tears, because I was too anxious to think about what would come next. Too worried about what could happen to talk about what all of this might mean for me. For us.
Lalo reaches out for me, grasping my wrist as I turn near his chair. “You want to sit for a second?” he asks, probably having reached the maximum number of times I can breeze by him and not say something.
“Not really,” I mumble, but I do it anyway, flopping down onto the faux leather chair across from him at the small table.
He gives me a gentle smile. “Should I ask, or should I just assume that I know what this is about?”
I sigh. Of course he knows. Sometimes I have to remind myself that they all know. I have never been good at hiding my feelings, despite my best efforts. I do not try nearly as hard with Lalo, and maybe it is my fault that he can see me so clearly. “You can ask, but you don’t need to.”
“So tell me about it. I know who’s on your mind, but not what about him.” Lalo sets his notebook aside, fully focused on me and ready to listen.
Suddenly, I’m nearly overcome with gratitude for not only him, but the other members. They have never once made me feel anything other than accepted, and I’m honestly not sure how I got so lucky to have this kind of love and support within the group. But especially Lalo. He was the first person I came out to, the one I cried to when I felt like everything was wrong, like I was wrong. Who listened to me whine endlessly about having never been kissed and asked if I wanted to try. He has always helped me in every way that he can, any way I will let him, with his quiet, gentle guidance and care.
Taking a deep breath, I try to figure out where to even begin. “Is it weird that sometimes I wish we were still under that dating ban like when we were trainees?” It’s not what I thought I would say, but that’s what comes out.
Lalo laughs. “Maybe? It doesn’t matter to me because I still don’t have time or the desire to date anyone right now, but I guess I like having the option if I wanted to.” He looks at me for a moment, considering. “Why would you want that?”
“Because it was easier. Knowing there was not an opportunity just made things simpler,” I tell him.
“So because you have the chance and there’s someone you want now, it’s more difficult? Or confusing?” He speaks so softly it almost makes my heart hurt, that he is willing to tread this carefully for me.
I nod. “I didn’t expect any of this. I didn’t even know I could want it. But somehow, the possibility exists that this is happening, and maybe he really wants something with me, too, like he says he does and I am...” I trail off, not sure where I’m headed with that thought even as I’m speaking.
Lalo waits patiently for me, giving me a chance to process while he pulls off the black ball cap he’s wearing and runs his fingers through his hair, before turning it around to put it on backward.
“I think... I think I’m scared,” I admit, finally. “No, I know I am. I’m kind of terrified, really. So I let our visit end badly because I didn’t know what to do.” I let my gaze drift somewhere over his shoulder, away from his dark, intense eyes. “Is it always like this?”
“That’s a good question. And one I couldn’t begin to answer. We write songs about this kind of thing all the time, but none of us really know what we’re talking about. We’re just making it up as we go.”
There’s a bit of humor in his voice, like he realizes the absurdity of what he’s saying, the idea of these lyrics about emotions most of us have never really had the chance to experience seriously.
“I can’t sleep now,” I confess. “I just lie there and I think about him. I wish he was there with me. Or I was somewhere with him. And then, other times, I think that I wish I didn’t know what it was like. To have another person be so close. To be able to remember what their breathing sounds like or how it felt when they touched you.”
I know I’m blushing now, having spoken too freely, too intimately. But Lalo is just looking at me like he always does, always has, unfazed by these details. When he says nothing, I keep talking for some reason, relieved at being able to let the thoughts out and try to make some room for something in my head—in my heart—beyond all of the space that Jase currently occupies. “I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking right now. Even as I am saying all these things. Am I on his mind the way he is on mine? Has he been feeling lost, too? Is he replaying everything the way I am? Does he want to do it all again?”
Lalo bites his lip like he is trying not to grin. “You could just ask him.”
Scowling, I scoff at the suggestion. “The idea of calling or texting him to ask that makes me want to jump out the window.” I lean over to fling the curtain open, just to illustrate my point. For some reason, I’m kind of disappointed to see that not only does the window not open, but there is another roof level just below which really takes away from the impact of my statement.
“And I thought Lux and Ryo were the dramatic ones,” he comments, rolling his eyes.
He’s definitely not wrong about them, but I certainly feel like I have had more than my fair share of moments lately, too. Ready to change the subject, I nod toward his pen and paper. “What are you working on?”
Grabbing the notebook, he flips to a new page and makes a few quick marks like he wants to remind himself of something. “Just chasing a couple of ideas about watching someone fall in love.”
“Isn’t that an odd perspective?” I ask him. Most songs are written to immerse the listener in an experience and I’m not sure why that is one anyone would want.
“You know I like to try new things.” He gives me a look that suggests I’m definitely missing something. “And I’ve never had a front row seat quite like this before.”
“What…” I don’t even finish the question, as I suddenly realize that he’s talking about me. I feel a little like the wind has been knocked out of me.
Does he think I am in love?
Is that what this looks like to him?
I blink at Lalo, panic starting to rise.
I cannot… this is not…
I would not already be…
… Oh .