Archive of Our Own

It’s stupid, really.

There’s probably nothing behind it, right?  Like, there isn’t any reason for them to be acting like that with one another, especially not now in front of everyone.  It’s probably something normal that they do, and Jaemin’s just overthinking.  Overanalyzing.  Whatever the proper term is, for when you scrutinize a situation to the point where it makes your head and heart hurt.

There’s no reason for him to be jealous.  He and Jeno are close, have always been close, will always be close.  Hell, even he and Haechan are close.  All of the Dreamies are.  Granted, Renjun’s been hanging out with WayV now, which is super great because the guys from WayV are cool, really cool.  Cool in a way that Jaemin doesn’t quite fathom.  They’re not that different, and yet they are.  They’ve got friends outside of the band.  Hobbies outside of the band.  Lives outside of the band.

So, okay.  Maybe there’s… some distance between Jaemin and a lot of the others.  He’s close with a few of his hyungs, but nothing to preach about.  Not really.

With Mark and Haechan occupied with 127, Jaemin has come to rely on the other four members of Dream.  

But Renjun often vanishes to the WayV dorms, and sometimes Chenle does too, and when he doesn’t he’s with Jisung or he’s home.  All the older members love Jisung the way that Jaemin does, so he gets herded around like a new puppy whenever he makes it to shooting.  So that leaves Jeno, really.

Jeno and Jaemin.  Jaemin and Jeno.

So why is Jeno all the way over there, smiling at Haechan like he’s the whole universe, while Jaemin’s standing here alone?

And here’s the stupid part.  It hurts.  He can’t really explain why, not with the way his brain has turned mushy, but it hurts, and it feels like icing on a really, really bad cake.  It climbs up his throat, burning, and makes it hard to breathe.  The longer he stares, the greater his eyes sting.

“Ayo, Nana!” Lucas skips over, all tall and gangly limbs.  He’s grinning wide, as he usually is.  

Jaemin breaks.

“Jaemin?  Hey, wait--”

He ducks his head and slips out of the auditorium into the bright hallway.  Passes by milling camera staff and makeup crew members, and barges into the men’s bathroom.

Deep breaths.  In and out.  In and out.

It’s stupid, right?  It has to be.  He probably didn’t get enough sleep last night, or not enough coffee this morning, or… or something.  Because there is no reason he should be hurting this bad over something so… so normal.

The door swings open.  Jaemin jerks his head and gapes at Lucas, who presses the door shut behind him.

“Oh god,” Lucas blurts, “You’re crying.”

“No, I’m not,” Jaemin refutes, voice wobbly.  

“Don’t cry,” Lucas says.

Jaemin cries.  It breaks free in an ugly sob, loud and horrible-sounding.  Tears well thick in his eyes and he wipes at them, forgetful of the makeup on his face.  

Why does everything hurt so bad?

“Oh god, oh god, um, uh, I’m sorry?  Can I-- do you--” Lucas fumbles, large hands grabbing at the air as he brainstorms.  “I’m--”  Something clicks, and he feels his pockets.  When he comes up empty, he points at the door.  “I don’t-- I’m going to get Ten.”

In his rising sorrow, Jaemin barely hears the words, but nods nonetheless, rubbing frantically at his face.  The tears won’t stop.  He slumps against the far wall, back sliding until he hits the floor.  And the floor is so cold too, and probably disgusting, and oh god, why won’t he stop crying?

The bathroom door swings open again.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lucas, you just left him like this?  What the hell is wrong with you?” Ten’s voice is music to Jaemin’s ears.  In no time, Ten has dropped to his knees and pulled Jaemin into a hug.  Unfortunately, this means Jaemin’s in a safe place to cry, and now he really can’t stop sobbing.  “Oh, Jaemin, what’s wrong?”

The only response Ten gets is in the form of warbled cries.

“Poor thing,” Ten sighs, stroking Jaemin’s hair.  It’s all gone to shit, now.  He probably looks a mess, and hell knows he feels like one, too.  So much for being camera ready.  “Are you stressed?  Tired?”

Jaemin shakes his head.

“He seemed fine, earlier, before he, you know--”

“Ah.”  Ten clocks on, understanding.  Something about his tone hints that this sort of pain is all too familiar.  “I think I understand, now.”

Jaemin, too far gone to supply a dignified response, simply nods against Ten’s chest, shaking.  

“I don’t,” Lucas mutters.  Ten glares at him. 

“That’s because you’re you , Xuxi,” Ten shoots back.  “Can you go back out there and get Jungwoo?  He might be able to help with this.”

“Uh, okay.”

The bathroom door swings open and shuts.  After a beat, Ten lowers his voice.  “What’d he do?”

“N-nothing, not really,” Jaemin forces out.  He’s surprised Ten can even understand him.  “I just--”

“Say no more,” Ten interrupts.  “I completely understand.  He’s oblivious, right?  Has no idea, and thinks whatever reference you make to it is a joke or some shit for the fans, right?”

Jaemin’s brows pull together.  “Not really, but--”

“You’re just ‘best friends,’ but you send him pics when you feel cute and he just doesn’t get it.  And it’s like, why am I even trying, right?  But there’s something about him that draws you to him, because sometimes he’ll give that attention back, and then you convince yourself there’s a chance.  And poof!  It’s like you’ve been forgotten.”

This-- this isn’t it at all.  Jaemin pulls back enough to look into Ten’s hard gaze.  “Are you... talking about Johnny?”

Ten blinks down at him.  Sucks in a breath.  “I don’t like feeling like I don’t matter.”

Bam.  There they go again, the tears.  

Once again, the door swings.

“Oh-- Lucas, what the hell?  I thought you said Jaemin was crying!  The fuck you do to Ten?”

Lucas shakes his head, palms up in defense.  Jungwoo hurries over with a bottle of water, practically shoving it into Jaemin’s hands. 

“I didn’t do anything.  I wasn’t here-- I was-- oh god.”  Lucas stumbles over his words again.  He begins frantically pacing around the bathroom, looking for something to do with himself.

“Go to the vending machine and get another water bottle,” Jungwoo commands, waving him off. 

“I don’t have any money on me,” Lucas says.

Jungwoo rolls his eyes, which makes Jaemin snort.  “Jaehyun has loose change on him, go!”

Lucas vanishes from the bathroom for the third time and Jungwoo scoffs.  “I swear to god, he’s horrible at this.  What’s happening?  What’s wrong?”

Instantly, Ten starts babbling incoherently.  Jungwoo blinks at him, utterly clueless, and turns to Jaemin, who says, “Boys.”

“Ugh, boys.  I’ll drink to that.  You tell one guy that you think he’s cute and suddenly he’s showing off pics of girls he likes.  Like, what is this?  I didn’t ask,” Jungwoo complains.  Jaemin can’t help but let out a tiny laugh.

Ten tugs the water bottle out of his hand and takes a swig.  “Sometimes I wish I was straight.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jungwoo mutters.  

“Boys are so oblivious,” Ten says, clearly still fighting another onslaught of tears.  “What more do I need to do to get you to notice me, huh?  How much will it take?”

“Honestly, Ten, I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell you again: just do cam work.”

Jaemin chokes on his own spit, eyes bulging at Jungwoo.  “What?”

“And I’ve told you this before and I’ll tell you again, Jungwoo, that is a horrible idea, ” Ten counters.  He jerks his arm out, accidentally hitting Jungwoo with the partial bottle.  “It doesn’t solve my problem in the slightest.”

“See, that’s what you think, but--” Jungwoo’s reply is cut off by the door opening and closing.  Lucas is back with not just water, but also an energy drink and Jaehyun. “Oh, hey, speaking of straights.  I thought I told you to take Jaehyun’s money, not Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun shrugs and sets the beverages on the bathroom counter.  “I heard people were crying and got worried.”

“Nice going, Lucas,” Ten spits.

“Hey, I--”

“It’s fine, I got it out of him.”  Jaehyun, too, sinks down to the bathroom floor and holds his arms out.  Ten abandons Jaemin and climbs into Jaehyun’s embrace, leaving Jaemin to slump against Jungwoo.  “I can guess what’s up with you, Ten, but what about you, Jaemin?”

“Jeno’s being stupid,” Jaemin finally admits.  “Well, maybe he’s not, but--”

“He’s not psychic, so he’s at fault,” Jungwoo fills in, which makes Jaemin laugh a bitter laugh.  Yeah, that one’s on him.  “Lucas, swap with me.  I’m going to go get makeup wipes.”

“Uh, okay--”

Lucas is firm and warm and smells like strong cologne.  It’s been made more than clear that Lucas can’t handle crying people, so when Jaemin sniffles, Lucas starts to panic.  

“What do I--”

“Oh my god Lucas, get it together,” Jungwoo seethes out.  “I will literally be right back, just make sure he doesn’t start crying again.”

There goes the door again.  Lucas, stiff as a board beneath him, raises an arm and pats Jaemin’s shoulder.  “Uh.  There, there.”

This is pathetic.  It’s nice, but still pretty pathetic.  Jaemin shifts.  “Can someone pass me some water.”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Jaehyun replies, reaching around Ten for one of the bottles on the counter.  “Here.”

The door.  Hendery waltzes in.  Lucas freezes.  For a beat, everyone is silent.  Hendery gives them all a once-over.

“Um,” he starts, tentative.  “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope!  No, nothing,” Lucas says quickly, raising both palms.  “Nothing is happening.”

“Funny, I don’t actually care,” Hendery says.  “I was just looking for somewhere to smoke this sick blunt, but I can-- wait, were you guys crying?  Is that what this is?”

Jaehyun makes an odd face.  His tone is both defensive and only slightly accusatory.  “What do you mean?”

“Like, is this a communal crying corner?  Because I can get in on that.  I can cry, like, on command.  Just say the word,” Hendery continues.  

“No, no,” Lucas jumps in.  “No more crying!”

“Damn, fine.  You guys cool if I smoke, though?”

The four members on the ground shift with shrugs and grumbles.  Eventually, Jaehyun replies, “Yeah, but only if you pass it over here.”

“I got you.”  With a resolute nod, Hendery strolls over and crouches down.  He digs a lighter out of one pocket and a plastic bag with a rolled blunt out of the other.  There’s some fumbling as he lights the blunt.  After his first exhale, the pungent scent of weed fills the air, and Hendery passes it to Jaehyun, who puffs and passes to Ten, then to Lucas, and for some reason, it ends up in Jaemin’s hands.

He’s never smoked weed before.

“You don’t have to--” Hendery starts to say, but it’s too late because Jaemin’s already choking on air.  “Slower, bro.  Take it easy.”

And now he has.  The blunt finds its way back to Hendery, who cradles it between two fingers as he withdraws his phone.

“What, you kept your phone on you?” Lucas asks, bewildered.

“What, you didn’t?”  Hendery snorts.  “I told Yangyang I’d tell him if I found a good spot, heads up.”

Ten lets out a dry laugh.  “Yes, please, keep inviting more people to the breakdown fest.  That’s exactly what we need.  More people.”

Jaemin shifts again to rub at his eyes.  The smoke from the weed is making his already dry eyes itch.  He can only imagine how red they’ll be at the end of this mess. 

“Oh god, you’re not going to start crying again, are you?”

Shaking his head, Jaemin swats at Lucas.  “Why, do you want me to?”

“Absolutely not--”

Jungwoo slips into the bathroom and immediately halts upon entry.  He locks his eyes onto Hendery, sighs, and then extends his hand.  Hendery passes him the blunt.

After he exhales, Jungwoo lifts up a plastic package.  “I found the make-up wipes.  Some of the makeup crew grilled me so I told them there was a mishap, so now they’re aware some people need touch-ups.”  He tosses the pack to the space by Ten, who swiftly withdraws a wipe and starts dabbing at his eyes.  Jaemin currently can’t find it in himself to do the same.  “Scoot over, Jeffrey.”

Jaehyun shifts, creating space on the other side of Jaemin.  Jungwoo presses himself into the vacancy and envelops Jaemin in a hug.  Lucas lets out a breath of relief.

“How are we feeling?  Better?” Jungwoo asks.

“Sort of,” Jaemin admits.  Sort of, but not really.  His members have come through so far, though, and the actions make him feel warm.  It’s not enough to completely wipe the feeling from his mind, but it’s enough to distract him for the time being.  “I’m just tired.”

“Aren’t we all,” Jungwoo sighs.  

The door flings open and hits the wall, presenting not only Yangyang, but also Renjun.

“Shit, this is a party,” Yangyang jokes.  His eager expression falters when his gaze lands on the huddle of figures against the far wall.  “Maybe not.”

“We’re fine, Yangyang.”  Ten’s voice is thick and exasperated.  “Don’t worry about it.”

Renjun frowns at the scene, concerned.  “Jaemin?  Are you smoking too?”

“Does it matter?” Jaemin replies, snatching the blunt from Jaehyun as if to show off.  And for what?  He just ends up coughing again.  “I mean, I’m trying.”

“Don’t bother with that, drink some water,” Jungwoo says, shoving a bottle back into his hands.

“Wait, were you crying?” Renjun asks instead.

If one more person asks him that, Jaemin thinks he might start crying again.  Ten looks pretty close.  “Yes, Injunnie, I was crying.”

“Is this about Hyuck and Jen--”

“Do not,” Jaemin interrupts, holding up a hand.  “Do not talk about it.”

Renjun blinks at him, unsure.  “If you say so.”  Beside him, Hendery passes off the blunt to Yangyang, who stares down at Ten in concern.

“Hendery,” Yangyang says, “when you said you were doing ‘hot girl shit,’ this isn’t really what I had in mind.”

This gathers a laugh from several people, Jaemin included.  

“This isn’t ‘hot girl shit’ to you?  Bitch, this is like a regular Tuesday at three AM.”

Yangyang scoffs.  “Yeah, whatever.  Scoot over, let’s make a circle.”

It’s less of a circle and more of a rectangle, but it gets the job done.  The blunt gets passed around a few more rounds.  Jaemin finally starts to feel something other than miserable when the door opens once again.

Taeil stops mid-step, the door hitting him in the arm.  

“Want some?” Jaehyun offers, lifting up the blunt.

“... No thanks, I’m good, I just had to pee-- is this where everyone keeps going?”

“What?  What do you mean, keeps going?” Jungwoo asks.

Taeil glances at the lot of them, squinting.  “Well, there’s eight of you here.  When people start to disappear and not come back, people notice.”

“I don’t know, there’s twenty-three of us, that’s a lot,” Jungwoo quickly adds.

“You know, that’s like, almost field trip size,” Yangyang says.

“Oooh, a field trip,” Hendery says.  “I think we should go on one of those.”

Laughing, Jaemin nods in agreement.  “Yeah!  A beach!”

“Yeah!” Lucas repeats.  “The beach!”

Staring at them, Taeil waits for a single beat to pass.  “I’m going to pee now.”

Ten snorts.  “Were you waiting for permission?”  Yangyang and Hendery bust a lung at this.  Taeil laughs too, from where he stands across the bathroom, which makes Lucas bark out a laugh.  He slaps his hand down and accidentally hits Jaemin’s leg in the process.

“That, sir,” Jaemin says, jabbing a finger in Lucas’s direction.  “Requires permission.”

More laughter.  Taeil washes his hands, amused, and slips out unnoticed.

*

Meanwhile, on set, Taeyong is in a panic.

“Eight people.  Eight people!  How do we lose eight people?!”

Kun and Johnny, the two people who happen to be in Taeyong’s vicinity, exchange a look and shrug.  The venue they’re filming at is fairly large, and since they’re currently working on filming some of the sub-unit transition scenes, not every member is currently required, and as a result, some people manage to slip away.  Usually, it’s not for long, as members of NCT are typically drawn to the chaos at their core, but if those eight people managed to end up in the same place, then…

There isn’t any danger or issue here, other than perhaps a minor inconvenience for the staff and for behind the scenes filming.  Yet several people, Taeyong included, appear to be disturbed by this noticeable absence of members.

Take Jeno for example.  Once Haechan got distracted with something Mark said, Jeno clued in to the fact that Jaemin has been missing for a substantial amount of time.  When Renjun and Yangyang disappeared too, he started poking around, asking people if they’ve seen the missing members of his age range.  

Unfortunately, no one has.  But his inquiries alerted the other members to the mass vacancy.  Hence, Taeyong’s panic.

Off to the side, Taeil emerges from the side hallway and sidles up to Yuta, who observes Mark and Winwin conversing from afar.  

“Hey,” Taeil says, breaking the other out of his train of thought.  “I found the others.”

“Oh, shit, for real?”

“Yeah, they’re getting high.  You interested?”

Yuta gapes.  “You waited this long to tell me?  Lead the way, I want in on that.”

*

When Taeil comes back with Yuta in gear, the crowd on the ground cheers.  Yuta mimics a swaggy catwalk, sauntering straight up to Yangyang, who offers the dying blunt.

“Better make it last, I only brought one,” Hendery comments.  “It’s all yours.”

“Sweet, thanks.”  Yuta nods his thanks to the younger member and perches on the bathroom counter.  

There’s no comment about red-rimmed eyes or tear streaks, but maybe it’s for the better.  Jaemin drops his head on Jungwoo’s shoulder, who pats his hair as consolation.  Lucas remains a firm presence at his other side.

“You guys want some music?” Taeil offers, holding up his phone.

“Yeah, whatchu got?” Yangyang asks.

“Let me show you.”  Taeil opens his phone and scrolls through.  When he finds what he’s looking for, he hits play.  It’s Nicki Minaj.  And as everyone is soon to find out, it’s solely Nicki Minaj.  

“Is this… this is just Nicki Minaj,” Renjun comments.  “It’s one hundred percent only Nicki Minaj.”

Taeil beams, pointing a single finger gun at Renjun.  “You’re welcome.”

The door.  In comes Haechan, arms up in victory.  He half-dances in.  “I thought I heard Nicki!”  

Several people offer cheers.  Jaemin is not one of them.  Instead, he shuts his dry eyes and tries to push aside the tides of conflicting feelings warring in his gut.

He shouldn’t be mad at Haechan.  He has no reason to be mad at Haechan.  Haechan has, theoretically, done nothing wrong.  Theoretically.  But is he mad at Haechan?  Absolutely.  And it makes him feel like shit.

Jaemin keeps his eyes shut as Haechan approaches the group.  Debates faking sleep as Haechan says hello to several of the other members already amassed in the bathroom.  

“Funny seeing you here, Jaemin.  We wondered where you wandered off.”

Jaemin pries an eye open.  Tilts his head up.  Haechan’s grin falters, just a bit.  “Congratulations, you found me.”

“Holy shit, you look horrible.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” Jaemin replies, pushing himself off of Jungwoo so he can sit up straight.  “You seem pretty bad at noticing things, so I just assumed you wouldn’t.  You know.”

Any idle chatter comes to a slow halt.  Taeil’s Nicki Minaj fills the awkward silence, and he frantically turns the volume down to better fit the tense mood.

“O-oh, okay, what did I just walk into?” Haechan asks, laughing uneasily.  “What’s your beef, Jaemin?”

Renjun begins to raise a hand, shaking his head, but Hendery pushes it back down and gives him a look.  Over on Jaehyun’s lap, Ten takes a long sip of water.  Yuta flicks the finished blunt into the sink basin.

Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the swirl of unsteady emotions inside of him.  Jaemin’s words pour out in a slurred heap, a stinking pile of his jealousy and shame.  “You’re just gonna play me like that and pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about?  Bitch, I saw you talking to Jeno.  You know how I feel about him.”  A beat.  “Well, maybe you didn’t, but you do now, and I’m mad at you.”

Haechan blinks down at him.  “You’re high.”

“The fuck does me being high have to do with anything?  I’m just trying to make it go away.”

“Preach,” Ten mutters, raising the partial bottle of water in a toast.  

A still moment passes between them.  When Haechan makes no move to respond right away, Jaemin drops his head back against Jungwoo’s shoulder.  “Whatever,” Jaemin grumbles.  “I don’t want to look at you right now.”

Haechan doesn’t move.  In fact, he doesn’t even look like he’s breathing.  Jaemin’s brows pull together in confusion.  He didn’t have that much weed, did he?  Is he hallucinating?

Then, it all happens at once.  Haechan drops to his knees, in that slim space between Hendery and Renjun, and blurts out an, “I’m sorry” before bursting into tears.

“Oh god, not again,” Lucas groans, looking as though he wanted to be swallowed whole by the floor.  “No more crying, please!”

“I’m so sorry, Jaem, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I’m just-- I was just trying to get back at Mark, and I told Jeno what was on my mind, and he said it was cool if we hung out during filming today, but I didn’t know-- I wasn’t-- I’m so sorry--”

Blearily, Jaemin blinks at his friend, somehow lost in the midst of it all.  The weed definitely isn’t helping.  “Mark?  What’d he do?”

“I’m like you, Jaemin, I’m in love with Mark fucking Lee, and he’s as dense as a brick wall, or he’s just ignoring me, or something, I’m sorry, I would’ve said something beforehand if I knew,” Haechan babbles.  Yuta passes down a bottle of water to Yangyang, who slides it in front of Haechan.

“How are you like me?  I’m not in love with Mark Lee?” Jaemin says.

Haechan lets out a laugh between his cries.  “Oh my god, you’re really high.”  

The reappearance of the original topic of grief has Ten looking two degrees above miserable.  He turns to Jaehyun and pokes him in the chest.  “Can you do me a favor, Jae?”

“Yeah, what’s up?  Need me to get you anything?”

Ten hums.  “Yeah, actually.  Railed.  Get me railed.  Let me rephrase.  I want you to rail me.”

Jaehyun nods along as Ten speaks, but the words don’t really set until the end.  His nod halts halfway and he stares at Ten, wide-eyed.  Yuta whistles.  

“You want me to rail you?  Here?” Jaehyun parrots, eyes flicking between Ten and the floor as if the answer lies somewhere in between.  “What about Johnny?”

“What about Johnny?” Ten asks back.  “And no, not here.  In a stall, obviously.”

The words don’t really make sense to Jaemin right away, who’s still trying to make sense of the sobbing Haechan in front of him.  When Jaehyun and Ten get up and start stepping over people, heading toward the largest stall, Jaemin reaches across Jungwoo and pats the recently vacated seat.

Jungwoo even extends an arm as Haechan crawls over.  Haechan falls into the embrace, wiping at his eyes.

There’s a lull as people get resituated.  Taeil cranks the music back up and slinks over to stand by Yuta at the counter.  No one makes any move to leave.  Jaemin sighs.

The door opens.  In comes Winwin, who jumps when people start cheering.

“Hey, Winwin!”  “Come on in, Winwin!”  “Sicheng, you made it!”

“What the fuck is this,” Winwin blurts.  “You’ve all been in here the entire time?  Were you-- is that weed?”

“You bet your ass it is,” Hendery replies, grinning in victory.  “We’re out, sorry.”

“I literally just came in here to pee.”  Awkwardly, Winwin shuffles toward the urinals, glancing several times over his shoulder at the mass of people.  “That’s what people do in the bathroom, they pee, and then they leave.”

Shrugging, Yangyang pulls out his phone and starts playing a game.  “Not all people.”

Winwin finishes up and goes over to the counter to wash his hands.  Yuta grins at him.  “So none of you plan on leaving anytime soon?” Winwin asks.

A chorus of “nopes” follow suit.

“Cool, okay,” Winwin says.  He shuffles over to the other side of Yuta and takes a seat on the counter, striking up a conversation with Taeil.  

The current song comes to an end right as chatter falls quiet, which permits a moan to break through the fog.  Everyone pretends they didn’t hear it.

“I wish we had some drinks or something,” Haechan comments.  “It’d be really cool if I could get drunk right now.”

“Fat chance,” Yangyang shoots back.  “Dejun might have another blunt, though.”

Renjun frowns.  “I didn’t know he smoked?”

“He doesn’t,” Hendery replies at the same time Lucas says, “It’s mine, my pants don’t have pockets.”

“Someone should go get him,” Haechan suggests.  

“I can go,” Jaemin volunteers.  “I want to smoke again.”

“Nope.”  Jungwoo pushes him back down.  “You’ve had enough, mister.  No more weed for you.”

Hendery pipes in, “I just texted him, he says he’ll be a bit.”

The door opens.

“That was fast,” Yangyang jokes.

It’s not Xiaojun.  Instead, it’s Shotaro, Chenle, and Jisung.  Shotaro’s got his phone out and seems to be showing the two younger members something.  When the trio notices the mass of people in the bathroom, they offer absentminded greetings.

“Yo, what’re you guys doing?” Lucas asks, shouting over Taeil’s Nicki Minaj.

Shotaro waves his phone.  “Practicing Tiktok dances.  We’re filming one later today.”

“You kids are so cool,” Taeil notes, grinning proudly.  “Let us know if you need us to film anything.”

“Thanks, Grandpa,” Chenle says.

Shotaro came ready.  He pulls out a travel tripod and props it up on the ledge behind the urinals.  The three members huddle around the phone and watch the dance for a few loops before getting into formation and trying it on their own.

*

“This is getting ridiculous,” Kun notes, voice low, to Doyoung.  Doyoung surveys the room with his arms crossed, mouth set in a line.  “Where does everyone keep going?”

“My guess is the bathroom, though I can’t fathom why,” Doyoung suggests.  “Unless there’s some hold-up with wardrobe.”

Kun thinks briefly back to the car ride over when his members were discussing their plans to hide away at some point to smoke the blunts they prepared the night before.  He pretended not to hear it, assuming they’d be so busy and have no time to do such a thing.  So of course, there's not only enough time, but no mention of a time limit at all.

At the rate things are going, they’ll be here all night.  So much for ending shooting early.  

“They’re probably in the bathroom,” Kun agrees.  

Doyoung hums.  Neither of them make any move.

“I think I’m more surprised that some people aren’t,” Doyoung adds after a whole minute has passed.  He nods toward Mark and Johnny, who appear more than happy to keep joking with each other.  Taeyong, on the other hand, bounces around the set, eyes wide with concern.  Sungchan and Jeno wave to Xiaojun, who peels away from whatever conversation and walks with mild haste toward a side door on set.  “Well.  Just lost another one.”

Kun snorts.  “What, you think we should say anything?”

Doyoung turns his attention back toward the remaining crowd.  They’re down to seven people, now.  The absence of two-thirds of the group is not subtle.  Hell, with the remaining people, they could form their own subunit.

“Nah,” Doyoung decides.  “Give it twenty minutes.  Let’s see what happens.”

*

Xiaojun slips into the bathroom and waves, hurrying over to chuck the blunt onto Lucas’s lap.  Apparently, this appearance disrupts whatever the Tiktok trio were trying to accomplish, and they stop their dancing to huddle around the screen once more.

Lucas hands the blunt to Hendery, who lights it, takes his turn, and immediately passes it to Haechan.  

“You know, we’re probably going to get called back soon,” Xiaojun says, seemingly out of breath.  “Taeyong’s freaking out.”

“If we invite him, maybe he’ll calm down,” Yangyang suggests unhelpfully.

“Doubtful.”  Jungwoo shakes his head.  “And don’t even think about offering weed, he’d panic more.”

Haechan passes the blunt to Jungwoo, who reaches around Jaemin to give it to Lucas.  “Hey,” Jaemin exclaims.  “Rude.”  Jungwoo shoots him a knowing look and shakes his head.

“Hey, what if we play Truth or Dare,” Haechan says.

Several people offer very mixed reactions.  Noncommittal groans and grunts somehow don’t manage to mask Jaemin’s excited agreement, and thus the game begins.  They extend the offer to Yuta, Taeil, and Winwin, who all simply pretend they can’t hear.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go first.”  Haechan grabs an empty water bottle and sets it in the middle on its side, then spins it.  It points toward Hendery.  “Okay, Hendery, truth or dare?”

“Oh!  Truth, truth, definitely truth.”

Scoffing, Yangyang doesn’t bother to set his phone down, immersed in whatever game he’s playing.  Renjun peers down at his screen, pointing at an enemy that Yangyang missed.  “You always pick truth,” Yangyang says.

“That’s because I like to talk about myself,” Hendery counters, flashing Haechan a smile.  “Truth.”

“Ummm,” Haechan trails off, thinking.  “What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?”

Hendery perks up, clapping his palms on his legs in anticipation.  “Oh, yeah, I can answer this one.  So, I was in this jungle, and I think Kiera Knightley was there, you know, from those pirate movies--”

Jaemin pushes up from the wall, suddenly feeling dizzy.  “I need to pee.”

“You gonna make it, kiddo?” Taeil asks.  Jaemin waves him off and nearly trips over Lucas’s long-ass legs.  Opting not to deal with the intense Tiktok moves by the urinals, Jaemin slips into the furthest stall away from Ten and Jaehyun.

Oh, he’s very dizzy.  It’s a one-sided war getting his zipper down, and he’s pretty sure he missed the toilet entirely, but at least he peed.  Outside, Hendery wraps up his dream storytelling with a flourish.

Then the door opens.  Some people cheer.  The group of Tiktokers offers verbal complaints, as the sudden movement kills their momentum once again.

Jaemin’s hand is halfway to the handle when he hears Renjun say, loudly, “Hey, Jeno.”  

No, no.  No, Jaemin doesn’t think he can handle this right now.  Oh no.  And he never cleaned up his messy make-up either, and his eyes still sting, so he still looks like shit.  And now he’s probably stepped in piss, and oh god, yeah, no, he can’t face Jeno right now.  Not like this, not after all… that.

“Oh wow.  Everybody’s in here,” Jeno laughs.  “Well.  Is Jaemin here?  I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“He’s--” Lucas starts, but then somebody must hit him because he starts coughing. 

“Why do you ask?” Renjun replies instead.

Shit, Jaemin wishes he could see what was going on.  Curiously, he glances around the stall before getting an idea. 

“He seemed kind of off this morning, don’t you think?  I didn’t get a chance to talk to him much before he disappeared, and I’ve been keeping an eye out for him because I wanted to make sure he was okay.”  Jeno laughs again, sheepish.  “But then he never came back, so.  And everyone kept disappearing.”

“Well, you found us,” Yangyang comments dryly, still likely absorbed in his game.

Jaemin, carefully, braces his hands on the toilet tank and steps up onto the seat.  Perfect.  Carefully, he turns around.  He’s just tall enough to peer over the stall wall now, and he can see almost everything from his vantage point.

However, he quickly learns that the large bathroom vent is right above his stall in the corner, which means all the smoke from the weed wafts up in his direction.  His eyes water a bit, and he tries not to cough.  Yuta happens to glance up and his eyes widen when he finds Jaemin’s head.  Then he winks and shifts his attention back to Taeil’s Nicki Minaj preaching.

“So is he here, or…?”

“Hey, before you answer that,” Haechan interjects.  He jabs a finger in Jeno’s direction.  “How do you feel about him?”

Jaemin glares at Haechan.  Horrible!  Why would he ask that?  Jaemin sucks in a deep breath, bracing for disappointment.  On the ground, Jungwoo not-so-discreetly whacks Haechan on the arm.

“Wait, what do you mean?  He’s my best friend, so--”

Several people boo.  Jaemin shakes his head.  While he appreciates the sentiment, it doesn’t do much to soothe his frayed edges.  He lets out a shuddery breath but ends up getting hit in the face with smoke and coughs, instinctively.  Luckily, Jungwoo hits Lucas again, and Lucas fakes several violent coughs.

“You okay, Lucas?  Maybe you should lay off the cigs,” Hendery jokes.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

Jeno turns his head toward Jaemin’s stall and Jaemin has to duck.  “Was someone else coughing too?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jungwoo quickly covers.

“Are you sure?” Jeno asks.  Jaemin doesn’t risk popping back up, lest Jeno decides to start whipping his head this way and that.  “I thought I heard something--”

“It might’ve been Jaehyun,” Yuta lies.  There’s a pause, and then, “Yeah, he’s taking a dump.”

Bad timing.  Ten lets out a barely stifled moan that sounds suspiciously like Jaehyun’s name from the large stall on the other end of the bathroom.  

“I don’t think he is--” Jeno starts to say, but he’s interrupted by Taeil, who starts laughing really loudly as he turns up his phone volume as high as it can go.

“Don’t you love this song?” Taeil shouts.  

Yangyang scoffs.  “Obviously.”

“Yes, god yes!” Ten screams.

“Are you playing truth or dare with us, Jeno?” Haechan finally asks.  “We were in the middle of a game when you came in.”

“Uh, no, I’ll pass.  Thanks, though.”

Jaemin exhales.  What the hell is he supposed to do, now?  Hopefully, Jeno will be convinced that he’s not here and continue his search elsewhere.  And then Jaemin can go back to being miserable and trying to get the blunt back in his hands.

Seems like he’s in luck, for only moments later, the bathroom door swings open and shut.  The Tiktokers offer several more complaints.  Jaemin risks opening the stall door, ready to step out.

And freezes.

Because Jeno didn’t actually leave.  Sungchan just walked in.  Actually, Jeno didn’t even move, and when Jaemin opened the door, it caught some peoples’ attention.  So when they turned to look at him, Jeno turned too.  

Jaemin meets Jeno’s gaze for a split second before ducking back into the stall and locking it shut.

Why did Jeno look so hurt?  That’s not fair.  Jaemin’s the hurt one.  Jaemin’s heart is aching, and Jeno’s out here looking like a kicked puppy.  Not fair.  Not fair at all, because now Jaemin feels worse.

A pair of feet appear at the gap between the stall door and floor.  Someone knocks.  Jaemin hopes it isn’t Jeno.

“Jaemin,” Jeno’s voice says.  Damn it.  “Can we talk?”

“Nobody’s home,” Jaemin calls out.

Sighing, Jeno doesn’t reply right away.  “You’re avoiding me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You just pretended you weren’t here so you wouldn’t have to talk to me,” Jeno shot back.  “Twice.”

“Twice isn’t here, either.”

A single person laughs, and it isn’t Jeno.  When Jeno speaks next, he actually sounds disappointed.  “I’m trying to talk you to, Jaem.  This isn’t helping.”

“Hey, Jeno, can you come over here for a second,” Renjun calls him.  Jeno lingers for a moment, then he walks away, leaving that spot between door and floor vacant.  

Whatever Renjun says, Jaemin doesn’t hear.  Instead, he takes a seat on the toilet tank, feet perched on the seat, and exhales.  

*

Kun, Doyoung, Mark, and Johnny all stand in a clump, watching Taeyong fall to pieces as his so-called kids continue to vanish out of sight.  The guy looks as though he’s lived through several tragedies, like the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius and any injustice of any legal system ever.  Head in his hands, Taeyong is a sight to behold.

“Should we put him out of his misery?” Kun asks.

Doyoung strokes at an invisible beard.  “Debatable.  Johnny, Mark, input?”

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” Mark admits, shaking his head wildly.  He gestures around the near-empty room, apart from the lurking staff members and the camera crew.  “Did I miss a memo, or--”

Johnny cuts him off.  “There’s something going on, for sure.  Why no one has told poor Tae, I have no idea.”

“Neither of you have caught on?” Doyoung asks for clarification.  He gestures between the two of them.  “Usually you guys are in on it.”

“Not a clue,” Mark reiterates.  There’s a bit of salt to his tone.  “For real, was there an invitation and I just didn’t get it, or--”

Scoffing, Kun reassures Mark with, “No, nothing like that.  This wasn’t even on purpose.”

“Correct,” Doyoung agrees.  “All of this was entirely incidental.  Several unrelated events have led us to this moment.  It just so happens that all of those paths led our members to the same place.”

“You know where everyone is?”  Mark, eager, perks up, glancing around frantically as though the answer will reveal itself.  “Where?”

Kun and Doyoung exchange a look.  Then, they both nod, and Kun steps forward.  

“Hey, Taeyong.  Come over here for a second.”

Taeyong, eyes wide and glassy, hurries over.  “Yeah, Kun?  What’s up?”

“I think we know where everyone is.”

*

“Hey, Jaemin.”

Jaemin remains stock still, eyes glued to that window of space beneath the door.  Jeno’s shoes are back, which must mean he is, too.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be harsh earlier,” Jeno quickly apologizes.  “I was kind of caught up in my own emotions.  Really, I just want to talk.  But if you’re not ready to do that, that’s okay, too.  I’m sorry, Jaemin.”

On an impulse, Jaemin opens the door and drags Jeno in.  Closes the door and locks it.  

Jeno stares back at him.  Blinks once, twice.  Expression melting, Jeno pulls Jaemin into a tight hug.  

“Renjun was right,” Jeno whispers.  “I’m so sorry if I did this to you, Jaemin-ah.”

Maybe Jaemin starts crying again.  Maybe he doesn’t.  It doesn’t really matter, since the only person who can hear it over Taeil’s incessant Nicki Minaj is Jeno, anyways.

*

When Kun throws open the door to the bathroom, the remaining group of five are met with a disastrous sight.

Immediately to their left, right by the sinks, Taeil attempts to coach both Yuta and Winwin through an intense set of English rap lyrics.  Further back, by the wall, Renjun taps away furiously at a mobile game on Yangyang’s phone, Xiaojun peering over his shoulder, while Jungwoo and Haechan fill Sungchan in on years worth of unknown NCT tea.  The Tiktok trio has gravitated away from the urinals and toward the center of the bathroom, right in front of the mirror.  Winwin, as he nods along to what Taeil’s saying, holds Shotaro’s phone precariously so the dancing trio can mimic the screen.  In place of the Tiktok trio, Lucas, Yangyang, and Hendery toss aside now empty water bottles, cheering and hollering about a pissing contest, whatever the hell that means.  The two end bathroom stall doors are shut.  If one were to try really hard to eavesdrop, they would hear soft sniffles behind one, and if one were to not try hard at all to eavesdrop, they would hear moaning behind the other. 

“What the hell,” Doyoung immediately drawls, already exhausted with the scene.  “This is worse than I imagined.”

Kun shakes his head.  “Come by our dorm more often.”

“What the hell!” Mark repeats, though his exclamation comes across significantly more affronted.  “This is a whole ass party, and no one said anything!”

His remark is loud enough to cut through the music.  Several people wave and cheer.  Haechan, however, jumps up from his spot on the floor and points an accusatory finger in Mark’s direction.

“ You!” he seethes.  Marching over, Haechan hooks a finger in Mark’s shirt collar and drags him over to the far wall group.  “You and I need to have a chat, pal.”

Mark doesn’t even try to resist, but his facial expressions cycle through the stages of grief.  “Yo, what did I even do?”

“Fucked shit up between me and Jaemin, that’s what!  Say you’re sorry!”

“Wait, what?  How!  I wasn’t even-- I didn’t do anything!”

Johnny approaches Yuta and claps a hand on his shoulder.  “Hey, who’s in the love shack?”  He jerks his head toward the noisier stall.  Taeil’s smile freezes on his face.  

“Haha, isn’t Nicki great?”

Yuta offers a knowing smile to Johnny.   “If I say that Jeno and Jaemin are in that stall,” he says, then points to where the duo are likely solving whatever problems they have, “Does that answer your question?”

It takes a moment for Johnny to scan the room.  When his brain pieces it together, all he says is “Huh” before nodding thanks to Yuta.  Then, he treks straight up to the scene of the crime, stepping far too easily over people in the process, and knocks on the door.

The moans come to a halt.  It’s Ten who replies.  “Uh, hi?”

“Hey, Ten,” Johnny greets.

“Fuck, Johnny?  What are you doing here?”

Johnny makes a show of glancing around the room, despite knowing that neither of the stall’s occupants can see him.  “You realize literally everyone else is here, now, right?  Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“No, you idiot, why are you here,” Ten shoots back.

Meekly, Jaehyun offers, “Hi, Johnny.”  There’s the sound of a hand slapping flesh, and not in a sexy way.  “Ow!”

“Hey, Jae,” Johnny replies far too casually.  “One of you should open the door for me.”

“I think the fuck not--”

“I’m not saying you should stop.”  Johnny shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.  “I’m just saying you should let me in.”

There’s a moment of semi-silence.  Within the stall, Ten and Jaehyun have a stern whispered conversation.  Then: 

“Okay, fine.  But this doesn’t mean that you’re not in deep shit,” Ten says.

“Obviously,” Johnny replies.

The door clicks open, and he slips in.  Then it clicks shut, and the moaning resumes.

Panning over to the urinals, the long-anticipated pissing contest between three members of WayV is about to commence.  Yangyang jumps up and down a few times as if that’s going to get his bladder going.

“Okay, we all know the rules, right?” Hendery claps his hands together.  “Longest stream wins.  Bonus points if you cross streams.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get on with it.  I really need to piss,” Lucas complains.

“Me too,” Yangyang says.  His antsy hops come to halt, and he sucks in a breath.

“Okay,” Hendery repeats.  “Dicks out.  On the count of three.”  

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Go!”

It’s at this point that the Tiktok trio finally gives up because Shotaro’s phone is about to die.  Apparently, whatever they were trying to accomplish was a success, for they all high five and make plans to actually film the video later that day.  Without anything left to do, they gravitate toward Xiaojun and Renjun’s intense gaming session.  

Doyoung and Kun easily fit themselves into Taeil’s Nicki Minaj TED Talk before commandeering the conversation and bringing up the issue of slow drivers, which for some reason is a topic Taeil is more heated about than Nicki Minaj.  Winwin, now without the task of cradling Shotaro’s precious phone, turns his attention to Yuta, who had previously been watching Mark.  Feeling bold, Winwin “accidentally” brushes Yuta’s leg.  This somehow reignites the flame that once possessed Yuta while Winwin was still predominantly with 127, and Yuta begins prattling off about strange romantic moves he saw in an anime five years ago.

And over by the far wall, Haechan lectures Mark.  Mark fumbles, trying so hard to keep up and constantly getting lost in the process, which causes Haechan to yell at him more.  Not two feet away, Jungwoo whispers in Sungchan’s ear.

Sungchan pulls back in alarm.  “He did what?!”

Left alone by the door stands Taeyong.  Poor, poor Taeyong.  He takes one last look at the bathroom tragedy before shutting his eyes, taking a deep breath, and slipping out of the room.  The brightly-lit hallway serves as a quiet reprieve from the chaos ensuing in close quarters.

In no time at all, he finds himself back at the set.  Strange to think that all of his members were only so many steps away, reeking of weed, and here he was, worrying all goddamn day. 

Taeyong spots his manager and walks up to him.  Clears his throat.  Shakes his head.  Tries to make sense of what he just witnessed in a public bathroom, of all places.

“We’re going to have to reschedule.  Can we reschedule?” Taeyong pleads.  “I don’t think-- there’s no way this is going to happen today.  At least put it off.  Please and thank you.”  

When their manager responds with “I’ll see what I can do,” Taeyong feels the tension in his shoulders melt away.  And when their manager turns away, Taeyong does the same, hurrying off the same way he came, back to that pocket of the world that all twenty-three of them have made theirs.

(And so what if it happens to be a public bathroom?  Paradise is paradise, even if it smells like piss and weed.)