Chapter Text
"Every time you're feeling down, take one star. I can't guarantee that it'll make your day better, but, sometimes, all we need is a little positivity."
Hongjoong held the small glass jar filled with delicately folded paper stars gently, body turning as his eyes searched frantically over the sea of people. The male had long vanished between the mass of bodies, blending in with the crowd before even giving him a chance to get his name. It left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, a sudden urge to search for him momentarily overwhelming him until a hand grasped at his arm frantically, reminding him of his current predicament.
"The plane is about to take off, we need to hurry!" Wooyoung, his fellow bandmate, ushered as he began pulling on his sleeve. The action brought him back to reality, eyes widening as he adjusted his bag over his shoulder and cradled the jar against his chest, securing the mask over his face to conceal his identity. His manager was glaring daggers at him, and Hongjoong knew he was in for an earful, but at the moment he couldn't seem to take his mind off of the mysterious man who had helped him.
His phone had died at the worst possible time, shoulders aching as they sustained the weight of his heavy luggage. He was supposed to meet with his crew at the airport in ten minutes, but he had missed his Uber ride, and now, he had no way of communicating with anyone or even schedule himself another ride. So, to say that his day was off to a very stressful start was an understatement.
The air was chilly, cold wind nipping at the minimal exposed skin as he walked down the sidewalk. He was utterly screwed, and he had to find a way to charge his phone immediately. For reasons like this was why he wasn't allowed to be by himself, but he had insisted that he had everything under control. Which, clearly, he obviously didn't. Now he was left positively stranded, with no way of communicating with his manager, and extremely late for his flight.
Way to go, Hongjoong!
His feet wandered for a few minutes before stopping in front of a library, a glimmer of hope sparkling behind Hongjoong's dark eyes. He hurried in, grateful to find that the place was mostly vacant besides the staff and a few customers. The air smelled of old paper and lavender, a few plants lining the place intricately giving it a relaxing vibe. The atmosphere was soothing, and Hongjoong could see himself visiting a place like this to relax and work on his music, but, unfortunately, his stress levels were up to a max and he didn't have the luxury to sit back and admire his surroundings.
Rushing over to the front desk, he waved at the tall man standing behind a register. The male offered him a smile, kindly asking on what he could help him with.
"Hi, would you by any chance have a spot for me to charge my phone? I'm in a bit of a hurry," Hongjoong explained as politely as he could. His voice came out a little muffled behind his face mask, lifting his baseball cap a little to try not to appear suspicious. Who knew if the man hid a rifle under the desk and decided to use it on him?
"There should be a few outlets available over by that booth over there," the man said, pointing over to the side with the same smile. He didn't seem to find Hongjoong's appearance odd, thankfully, which eased some of his non-prioritized worries. Giving the man a small, thankful nod, Hongjoong gripped the strap of his bag tightly and walked hurriedly over to where he had been directed to.
His eyes frantically scanned the area for an outlet, letting out a relieved sigh once he found one. He approached the booth carefully, hesitating when he noticed that someone was already occupying it. Weighing his options, he awkwardly cleared his throat, hoping to not come across as rude. The person was clearly working on something, one earbud hanging off their ear as the silently hummed along to whatever song they were listening to. Luckily, Hongjoong managed to grab their attention, the humming cut short as they lifted their gaze to meet his.
The first thing he noticed was the intricate shape of their eyes as they gave him a kind, questioning look. They were dark, accentuated by a hint of eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow. Their face was framed by their long, black hair, bangs falling messily over their eyes. Half of their face was covered under a face mask, much to Hongjoong's dismay, but even so, he had been completely mesmerized in under a second.
"Yes?" the person spoke up, startling Hongjoong out of his momentary short-circuit episode. His voice was nice and smooth, Hongjoong noticed. A man.
"Ah, y-yes, sorry," Hongjoong immediately apologized, flushing in embarrassment as he forced his brain to function. "Do you mind if I sit here? I need to charge my phone," he explained, pointing to the vacant spot across from him, eyes crinkling at the sides as his shy smile was hidden beneath his own face mask.
"Oh, sure, go ahead," the man said with a light chuckle, gesturing for Hongjoong to take a seat. Hongjoong mumbled a small gratitude, placing his bag down carefully and sliding into the booth. He immediately unzipped it and fumbled around his things, clumsily pulling out the slightly tangled mess of cables and plugging it into the outlet. He fished his phone out of his pocket, biting his lip and plugging the charger in, leg bouncing impatiently as he waited for the screen to light up.
It was taking painfully long, longer than what Hongjoong deemed necessary despite only two seconds having passed by. He didn't even know what time it was, his career basically depending on the godforsaken device if he wanted to make it in time for his next tour spot. It made him want to bash his head against the table, eyebrows knitted in frustration as his screen finally lit up, flashing with the charging icon as it began to load.
Long, slender fingers slid towards him, and a small object was placed gently in front of him.
Curious, Hongjoong tore his gaze away from his phone to glance at the object, then over at the male questioningly. It was now that he noticed on what the other was working on, colored strips of papers scattered on one side of the table, one hand holding a pen, and a small, glass jar almost filled to the brim with small paper stars on another side. It was…cute.
Wordlessly, Hongjoong carefully grabbed the paper star that the man placed in front of him, small fingers gently unfolding it. The letters inside were scribbled a bit messily, a silly little smiley face at the end of the sentence, making Hongjoong smile, pushing his worries to the back of his mind to appreciate the message written.
'You can overcome any obstacle that gets in your way. Believe in yourself. :))'
"The stress seems to be rolling off of you in waves, so I figured you could use a little positivity," the man explained when Hongjoong lifted his gaze back to his after reading the thoughtful message. He had a hand behind his neck, rubbing the area timidly as Hongjoong stared at him, taken aback by his kind gesture. It left him momentarily speechless, the tip of his ears tinting red.
"Thanks," Hongjoong said appreciatively, folding the paper strip gently and putting it inside his pocket, making sure his gratitude showed in his gaze. He wanted to ask for his name, lips parting to do just that, when his phone suddenly started blaring on the table. They both startled at the sudden, loud interruption, Hongjoong fumbling with his hands to silence the device, receiving a few, disappointed stares from some peers. Reading the name on the screen, Hongjoong visibly flinched, swiping his thumb over the green icon before his bandmate's voice blasted through the receiver.
"Hongjoong! Where the hell are you?!" Wooyoung's voice screeched, forcing Hongjoong to pull the phone away from his ear and glance apologetically at the now concerned-looking male across from him.
"I'm sorry! My phone died and I missed my Uber, I just managed to get it charged," Hongjoong whispered-shouted into the microphone, making himself as small as possible as to not disturb anyone.
"Our manager is going to kill you! We need to be inside the plane in thirty minutes, you need to get your ass here, now!"
Taking a quick glance at the time, Hongjoong cursed under his breath, minimizing the call application to navigate to the Uber app. "I'm requesting an Uber ride now, I'll be there even if I have to jump over cars. If I don't get run over, I'll die to our manager either way. Don't know which one I prefer most, though."
"Well, you better hope that your Uber fucking flies over traffic, because our manager is about to lose his shit," Wooyoung whistled, making him groan before hanging up. Throughout their brief interaction, the male from across the booth busied himself with his task, adding a few more paper stars to the jar and putting a lid on it, tying a blue ribbon around it. If Hongjoong wasn't currently contemplating jumping in front of a train, he would've complimented the male's handiwork.
As if luck wasn't on his side—which it obviously wasn't—the nearest Uber was twenty minutes away. Whatever little hope Hongjoong had at making it in time depleted as he slumped against the booth in defeat. This was it. His career was over. He would let his fans down. His manager was definitely going to serve his head on a silver platter and sell his organs to the black market and—
"Do you need a ride?" the male asked gently, putting a halt to his swirling thoughts. His head snapped up, eyes wide as he met the man's kind gaze once more. He felt utterly embarrassed that this stranger had to witness him at a very frustrating moment in the few minutes that they had barely interacted. He must have heard the conversation, which Hongjoong guessed he couldn't really blame him for since Wooyoung was naturally loud and obnoxious even through a phone call.
"I- well, y-yes, maybe? I mean—" Hongjoong stumbled over his words, wincing and lifting his baseball cap lightly to scratch nervously at his hairline. "I'm so sorry you had to witness that, I really hope that I didn't disturb you."
"Don't sweat it," the stranger reassured, waving a hand dismissively and gathering his things. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it seems like you're in need of a lift. I know a few shortcuts to get to the airport."
Hongjoong's eyes widened, watching in shock as the male began sliding off the booth, looking at him expectantly. "W-Wait! Are you sure? I mean, I'm a complete stranger, after all. What if I tried to kidnap you or something?"
The male chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, obviously amused by Hongjoong's concern. The sound was warm; velvety. It raised goosebumps along his skin, a pleased hum running through his veins as he took a moment to admire him. He had met many people before, but, for some reason, this man had him entranced within minutes. And he didn't even know how he looked like underneath his mask.
"Well, I wouldn't call you a complete stranger, so to speak," the man said, leaning forward slightly to playfully tap at his baseball cap. "It took me a minute, but I recognize you…I was at your concert last night. I know how important this tour is, so if me giving you a ride helps, then it's no problem at all."
An angel, Hongjoong immediately concluded. This man was the literal definition of an angel, there was no doubt about that. If he could get on his knees and kiss this man's feet without making a complete fool out of himself, he would've probably done it. And to top it all off, this man recognized him. He knew who he was. The fact that he treated him normally, like any other human being, and offered his help without hesitation made something inside him melt.
"I owe you my entire life," Hongjoong said in awe, relief visible in his features as he scrambled to get his things, making the other stifle a laugh. "Name your price. I'll bring you the moon if that's what you ask for. Heaven? I'll grow wings if I have to."
"A simple thanks will suffice," the stranger mused, jerking his head slightly to the side with raised eyebrows. "Now, let's go. I wouldn't want you to die a gruesome death because you missed your flight."
Hongjoong nodded, standing up and throwing his heavy bag over his shoulders, not wanting to waste the man's time. Only when he stood next to him did he realize that the male was taller than him, maybe by an inch or two. He couldn't tell before because he had been hunched over, focused on his work before Hongjoong had interrupted him. It came to a bit of a surprise to him. He was well aware that he himself wasn't very tall, but he didn't expect the stranger to actually be taller than him. It flustered him, if only a little.
He took a second to appreciate his sense of style as well. He held his head high, looking bigger despite only being a few inches taller, something that amazed Hongjoong. The male wasn't broad, and although the majority of his body was hidden behind a trench coat, he could tell that he was slender and took care of himself. His entire aura screamed confidence, and the smaller of the two couldn't help feeling slightly overwhelmed, even though he was the famous one.
They both hurried out of the library, the male waving at the tall cashier from earlier and leading Hongjoong outside of the building. Hongjoong kept his head low, tugging at his baseball cap nervously to try not to catch anyone's eyes. He usually didn't mind if a fan noticed him and attracted attention—had always loved interacting with them and offering a few selfies just to make them happy. But, at the moment, he couldn't put the man at jeopardy. Social media could be a scary place, and the last thing he wanted was rumors spreading about him and this mysterious man.
That's right. He still hadn't had the chance of asking for his name.
"It should take about twelve minutes to get there from here. You should be able to get there in time for your flight if you make a run for it," the man said with a hint of amusement, stopping in front of what Hongjoong could only assume was his car, and opening the passenger's door for him to get in. "After you, Mr. Celebrity."
Hongjoong couldn't help but bark out a laugh at that, shaking his head in amusement before sliding the bag off his shoulders and getting in. The male was quick to shut his door and jog to the driver's side, putting his own bag in the backseat and hopping in before starting the engine. The inside of the car smelt like vanilla, sweet and enticing. A scent that he would now associate with this kind stranger.
Hongjoong felt a bit jittery, arms hugging his bag close to his chest after putting the seatbelt on, legs bouncing slightly in anxiousness. He hadn't expected this turn of events at all. Who would've thought that this kind stranger he had accidentally met would offer him a ride? Although—
"Hold up," Hongjoong started once the male pulled out of the parking spot, eyes turning into slits as he slowly turned his head to scrutinize the other's side profile. "How could I be sure that you aren't going to kidnap me? Oh god, could you be an undercover creep? Is it too late to jump out the window?"
The man's head snapped over to his with wide, incredulous eyes, before throwing his head back and laughing loudly. It made Hongjoong feel stupid for some reason, body heating up as he looked away to hide his embarrassment. His skin tingled listening to the other's hearty laugh, much different than his much reserved chuckle from earlier. Was it bad to think that he wouldn't actually mind if this man were to actually kidnap him?
"Your situational awareness is almost non-existent, at this point," the male pointed out, focusing on the road ahead. "No, I'm not going to kidnap you. I guess I should be grateful that you ended up bumping into me instead of an actual undercover creep. Shouldn't you have a bodyguard with you, anyways?"
Hongjoong felt scolded, which in all fairness, he deserved. "Well, I-uhh, may or may not have convinced my manager that I could manage on my own for at least one day. It is safe to say that I'll probably be kept on a leash from now on…" he trailed off, refusing to make eye-contact with the beyond-amused-and-positively-handsome-stranger.
"Well, the fact that you don't have any paparazzi on your ass means that you didn't fail entirely," the man points out. "I may have recognized you, but you did well in covering up."
"Thanks," Hongjoong beamed happily, grateful that his camouflaging skills have been noticed. Although, he had to admit that he was a bit curious. "Why are you wearing a mask, though? Don't tell me that instead of being an undercover creep, you're in fact some sort of undercover agent. Maybe those paper stars are part of a secret mission, Mr. Spy Stranger."
"Oh my god," the man cackled, stopping at a red light and shaking his head, Hongjoong smiling sheepishly beneath his own mask. "No wonder you're a music producer and artist, you have such a creative imagination. No, I am not an undercover agent. I just recovered from a cold this morning, and I didn't want to risk getting anyone around me sick. Just a safety measure, you know?"
Hongjoong nodded in understanding, his heart warming at the thoughtfulness. It was rare to come across someone with a heart made of gold like his. It left Hongjoong all the more intrigued, itching to get to know this stranger more. His fingers gently wrapped around the folded paper strip in his pocket, sucking his lower lip in between his teeth in contemplation.
"Hey, uhm, I would really, really, like to pay you back, somehow, for helping me out today," he said softly, almost nervously. "I know you said that a simple 'thanks' would suffice, but I insist."
The male hummed quietly, eyes focusing back on the road once the light turned green. Hongjoong would be lying if he said that there weren't any hidden intentions behind his request. He genuinely wanted to ask for his name, and—selfishly—his number. It was far-fetched, he knew. But he would do anything to get to meet this kind stranger once again. There wasn't anything wrong with being a little selfish while being selfless, right?
"Could you fetch my bag for me, please?" the man asked as the airport came into view. Confused, Hongjoong complied, turning his body and reaching to the back seat to grab the male's bag carefully. "Open it and grab the jar from inside, you can leave the bag by your feet if you'd like."
Perplexed, he gently unzipped the bag, grabbing the jar from earlier and zipping it back up, not wanting to seem nosy. He spread his legs slightly, placing the bag between them on the floor and tilting his head at the male. Sensing his unspoken curiosity, he explained, "Every time you're feeling down, take one star. I can't guarantee that it'll make your day better, but, sometimes, all we need is a little positivity."
Hongjoong was left dumbfounded, blinking twice before glancing down at the jar that had been gifted to him. "Oh? Uh, thanks? I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but how would this count as me paying you back?"
The male chuckled, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, "I've been working on that jar for a few weeks now without even knowing who I would end up giving it to. That is, until you came up to me with your 101 problems, so I figured I'd give it to you. Knowing that I could help someone's day get better with a very small gesture is worth more than anything money could ever buy. For me, at least."
Hongjoong wanted to retaliate at the "101 problems" comment, groaning in embarrassment. Although he obviously had other ideas on how to pay him back, he guessed he could understand what he meant, to some extent. Still, he couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed, even though he really did appreciate the gift. At least he could take a piece of the stranger with him…
"If you insist," Hongjoong smiled under his mask, hoping his disappointment didn't show in his tone, and turning to look out the window as they neared the departure section of the airport. His eyes widened, slightly cowering in on himself as he unconsciously tugged his baseball cap lower on his forehead, wincing as he noticed the amount of reporters hoarded around the door he was supposed to get in through. "Well, shit. I didn't expect this many paparazzi."
The male hummed in understanding, confusing Hongjoong when he drove past them and took another turn. Hongjoong was about to question it, narrowing his eyes slightly as he thought about the slim chance of this stranger actually kidnapping him, before the male met his gaze with a knowing glint. "What's your gate? I know my way around the airport, so I can get you in through another entrance."
Hongjoong blinked twice, taken aback, before stuttering his answer, watching the male nod and drive around a little bit more until they reached a parking lot. Hongjoong had never been to this specific airport, so he felt lost, looking around the unfamiliar place as he tried to figure out where exactly this stranger was planning to drop him off. That was until the car was parked in one of the many parking spots and he killed the engine, securing the keys in one hand and looking over at Hongjoong.
"Follow me, I'll take you there. You should still have a few minutes before you have to board the plane, but we need to hurry," he said, already getting out of the car leaving Hongjoong to clumsily gather his bag and jar, barely managing to collect his thoughts as he got out of the car himself. The male began to lead the way, pressing a button on his keys to lock the car as he urged Hongjoong to follow behind quickly.
He made sure to hold onto the jar firmly as the male led him to a door on the side of a building, Hongjoong following close behind while silently praying that he wasn't being stupid in following a stranger through an unknown place. He did seem to know the place fairly well, taking a few turns as they walked down mostly isolated hallways. Everything was going fine, until they were about to go through another door, immediately being stopped by a security guard.
"Hey! Where do you two think you're going? This area is for authorized personnel only," the guard exclaimed, blocking their way as he glared at them. Hongjoong cursed under his breath, casting a panicked glance towards the male who began to reach into his pocket. He was about to ask if there was any other route they could take, when his phone suddenly started blaring inside his own pocket, making him jolt in surprise as he diverted his attention to it, fishing the device out of it as best as he could.
"Hongjoong!" Came Wooyoung's screech from the other end of the call, making him groan as he feared that his bandmate would one day leave him deaf. "Where in the actual fuck are you?! I can only keep our manager at bay for so long. We have to get in the plane, now!"
"I know, I know! I'm at the airport," he rushed out, looking up to see that the guard's expression had completely shifted and now looked at the stranger with wide eyes. The male was pocketing what Hongjoong could only guess was his wallet, his brows furrowing as he met his gaze questioningly. Another shout coming from his phone made him shake his head, grumbling into it, "Okay, okay! I get it! I'll make it up to you, I promise!"
"Oh, you better. Now get your ass here!" was the last thing Wooyoung said before the line went dead, letting out an exasperated sigh when fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging.
"Come on, Mr. Celebrity! Quit moping around," the male chuckled, nodding towards the security guard who stepped aside wordlessly, mumbling a quick apology before opening the door for them to get through, leaving Hongjoong utterly flabbergasted. What had even happened in the bare minute he had been distracted on the phone?!
"W-Wait, huh?!" he managed to say as he was pulled, blinking in confusion. The stranger tugged him down the corridor hurriedly, glancing sideways before urging him on. He ignored the way the skin around his wrist thrummed as the male's slender fingers held it gently. His mind was swimming with million questions at once, leaving him in a slightly panicked state, and absolutely no answer to a single one of them. "How—? But- he- the security guard— What?"
"Here," the male said, cutting off his disarray of thoughts trying to form a coherent sentence. They reached some glass double doors, the male looking both ways before pushing one open, pulling him through. "There don't seem to be any reporters or paparazzi around, so maybe we can get there safely—"
A loud gasp made them tense.
"Omg, is that Hongjoong?!" a female voice screeched from somewhere among the crowd, making them both flinch and look over at the source with wide eyes. There was a young girl looking at them, furiously tapping the shoulder of another person—presumably a friend—covering her mouth in shock and excitement.
Hongjoong cursed under his breath, whipping his head towards the stranger in panic. Before he could think twice about it, he snatched his wrist away and reached for his baseball cap, tugging the male down a little before placing it over his head, making sure to cover his face. "Unfortunately, we forgot about the fans," he chuckled nervously, the stranger staring at him wide-eyed. People around them began turning around to look at the commotion, more fans taking notice of him now that his hair was exposed, whipping their phones out and pointing at him in disbelief. "Ready to run?"
The male just laughed, his fingers finding his wrist again in a tighter grip before making a run for it. Hongjoong ran behind him as best as he could with his luggage slowing him down, jar firmly secured against his chest as they weaved their way through the crowd. Thankfully, they reached the express section of the TSA in record time, Hongjoong's eyes landing on his group of crew and bandmates just across.
"There they are! Holy shit!" he exclaimed breathlessly, his lungs burning as they slowed down to a stop. Thankfully, only very few of his fans had followed them, and one or two reporters had stopped to snap a few pictures, but other than that, they reached their destination majorly unscathed. Before Hongjoong made his way to the TSA to get past the security check, he turned to the stranger. He managed to grab both of his hands in his smaller ones, the jar tugged uncomfortably between his elbow and chest as he looked up at him. "I really, really, can't thank you enough for what you did for me today."
The male's hands were warm between his own, and he squeezed them lightly for added measure. He let go of them rather hesitantly, but there were lingering eyes around them, and he had already put the male in jeopardy just by letting him lead him through the airport. He could already imagine the rumors and speculations rolling around social media, the mere thought already giving him a headache. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth, contemplating over his next question before he had to leave.
"Could I at least have your name?" he asked, hopeful, lowering his voice in case someone eavesdropped on them, although there wasn't really anyone within earshot. He stared at his eyes, feeling the tip of his ears burning, heart thumping in anticipation. The male blinked, eyes crinkling at the sides to showcase the hidden smile beneath his mask. He could hear the small intake of breath as he prepared to speak, and Hongjoong shuffled on his feet, shoulders tensing slightly.
Finally, after everything that transpired with this stranger, he had the chance to—
"Kim Hongjoong!" the familiar shrill of his manager's voice cut through the tension, Hongjoong instinctively flinching. The man was on the other side of TSA, visibly fuming, Wooyoung standing a few feet behind him, hands pressed together as he presumably prayed for his friend. "If you don't get your ass through security in the next ten seconds I will drag you, throw you under a plane, and run you over myself!"
"Fuck!" Hongjoong cursed, giving the male an apologetic look before turning around hastily.
"Wait," the male called out as he began walking away, reaching for the baseball cap. "What about your hat?"
Hongjoong flashed a smile over his shoulder even though it was concealed, jogging backwards and shrugging his shoulders, "I guess you'll have to find a way to return it," he mused, giving him a playful wink and turning around to rush to TSA. He didn't have time to glance back as he reached for his passport, following through the necessary security steps before he made it through, holding the jar gently, the tip of his fingers tingling in what he could only guess was nervousness and disappointment.
Now there he was, being pulled frantically by Wooyoung while his manager went off behind them, pointedly listing with intricate detail the many ways he would dismember Hongjoong once they boarded the plane. Hongjoong had to fight back the urge to look back, to try and find the male among the sea of people even though he was far from TSA now. It was stupid, really. He couldn't even get the stranger's name, didn't even know how he looked, or how old he was. But he had left such an everlasting impression on Hongjoong, and somehow, he wished he could have spent more time with him.
As he boarded the plane, his mind could only reel in the longing of wanting to meet him again. Even as his manager threatened his life every five seconds, even as Wooyoung's gaze lingered a bit too long, brows furrowed in silent questioning, Hongjoong couldn't seem to tear his mind away from him. He could still feel the way those dark eyes bore into him, soft and kind, no malicious intent behind them.
It left him all the more restless.
Wooyoung had asked him about the jar that he wouldn't let go of, and Hongjoong simply waved him off. He would tell him about the mysterious, kind stranger later. Even if he didn't want to, he knew that his obnoxious friend would somehow squeeze the information right out of him. But, for the meantime, he relinquished on the secrecy. The feeling of being the only one who knew about the shared moments with someone he would probably never ever meet again. But, god, did he really wish that he could meet him again, even if just once.
If only he could've gotten his name…
"Okay, so, let me get this straight," Wooyoung started, pacing around the room as Hongjoong was sprawled defeatedly over the armrest of the couch, sulking. "You met this complete stranger at a library, who offered you a ride, which you casually, stupidly accepted, because, a masked stranger who recognized you and invited you to his car isn't SUSPICIOUS at all, logic be fucked! And this totally not suspicious stranger gave you this- this jar filled with adorable paper stars with positive messages as a way for you to thank him?"
"Yes," Hongjoong grumbled, burying his face in the cushions, willing Wooyoung to finish with his rambling.
"And not only that, but he apparently knows the airport like the back of his hand, managed to get a security guard to apologize to him, and waltzed through a restricted area for authorized personnel only?! Joongie, that sounds like some mafia shit right there," Wooyoung huffed in disbelief, still pacing around the room while trying to wrap his head around all the shit that went down with Hongjoong in the half hour he had been missing. "And you, being so stupidly you—"
"Hey!"
"—didn't bother asking for his name until the very last second?!" His friend exclaimed, waving his hands around dramatically, making Hongjoong roll his eyes. "You either could've gotten kidnapped by an elite member of the mafia, or you missed the shot at your k-drama worthy soulmate whom you'll probably never see again. Because you're stupid. Very, incredibly, stupid. Oh, wait, did I mention stupid? Because—"
"Okay, I get it, Wooyoung!" Hongjoong snapped, effectively shutting his friend's mouth, although not without shooting him a playful smirk after. "I thought about asking for his name before then, alright? But shit kept coming up, like- like you."
"Oh, now, you're not going to blame your stupidly stupid-ness on me," Wooyoung tutted, shaking his finger sassily. "Or should I remind you that you made it here in one piece because of me? You owe me big time, you old fart."
"You are lucky that I tolerate your ass, you disrespectful fuck," Hongjoong sneered, standing up from the couch and smacking the back of Wooyoung's head, making him yelp. "And, for the record, I'm only two years older than you. The next time you call me an 'old fart' I'm going to throw you off a window."
"The point is—!" Wooyoung smiled, flashing his pearly whites and grabbing a hold of Hongjoong's shoulders, ignoring his statement and not-so-empty threat. "—you, my friend, are stupid."
"Okay, that's it—!" Hongjoong warned, fuming as he stalked towards his friend with purpose.
"No, wait! You didn't say anything about me calling you stupid!" Wooyoung shrieked, laughing as he ran around the couch to use it as a shield. Hongjoong jumped over the backrest, watching in amusement as Wooyoung's eyes widened comically and immediately darted away with a loud curse. The room they were in was small, so cornering him didn't take long. Hongjoong smirked, getting ready to jump at him when there was a loud knock on the door.
They both tensed, turning to the door as it opened and their manager walked in. He was typing away on his phone, lifting his gaze momentarily to give them an unimpressed look. Hongjoong grimaced, fully aware that his manager would still give him hell for what had happened. And, while he hated to admit it, Wooyoung really did help soften the blow when it came to their manager's wrath. Turns out that his friend could be quite the manipulator with that obnoxious mouth of his. Go figure.
"We're leaving in five minutes," their manager declared, giving Hongjoong a pointed look. "Not a single minute late, understood?"
"Yes," the two males said simultaneously, their manager flashing them one last pointed look before grumbling something under his breath and walking back out. Hongjoong let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, Wooyoung staying suspiciously silent behind him.
They gathered their things rather quickly, leaving their room to meet up with the rest of their crew. There was a long day ahead of them, heading over to the stadium where their next concert would be held at. It forced Hongjoong to push the thoughts of the stranger to the back of his mind, the frantic reality of their schedules keeping him busy as they ran through sound checks and procedures.
When showtime came, he felt the rush of adrenaline, watching from backstage as the lights lit up the stage, thousands of fans screaming before they made their appearance. He loved the feeling. He lived for it. And, as he stepped up to the stage with the rest of his bandmates, he relinquished in it, any of his previous worries vanishing.
For now, he would allow himself to focus on his performances, on his fans. He would put on a show, make an extra effort to showcase the best of his abilities. Because, even though he forced himself to push the image of kind eyes to his subconscious, deep down he knew that whoever that person was would watch him. And that was enough to have him pushing his limits, hoping that those eyes would stay on him, even if through a screen.