Work Text:
a fish and a bird may fall in love,
but where shall they stay?
thame had started to like korea. it had taken him time, but eventually it felt like home. or the closest to home that it could get, in a country so foreign. he had spent so long pretending to like his new home, he didn’t realize when he started believing it himself. maybe his bestfriend had been right about faking things till they became a reality.
we don’t talk enough about the human willpower, thame thinks. when thame had originally landed in seoul, all those moons ago, he didn’t have anything to rely on. no friends, no family, not even himself. no po. so, he relied on his willpower.
his career in korea has been one of hard work. learning the language was the biggest task. thame had immersed himself in learning this new tongue, forcing himself to forget that this wasn’t his mother tongue. he tried to erase every little detail about thai from his mind. the grammar, the slang, the pronunciation, the way it sounded when po spoke it. every time he thought of that, he found a new vigor to learn korean. he told himself it was a good thing.
but it would come back to him. he would get stuck at a word and would automatically switch to thai. he would catch himself thinking in it. no matter how much he tried to separate himself from that language, it always came back to him. so, he doubled down.
now, thinking back to it, thame doesn’t think he’s spoken thai in a long time. he probably hasn’t even thought in it, has probably forgotten how to read it as fast as he used to be able to.
another thing thame had to learn, was the way the industry worked in korea. it was so different from what he was used to. his company in thailand had barely been able to give him the exposure he needed. there was no limit to how much exposure he could gather in korea.
he had made a name for himself on his own, based on his own efforts and knowledge about music. thame remembers the first few weeks when he came to korea, or rather, he doesn’t remember them much. it was all a flurry of meetings, plans, schedules, classes and everything in between. he hadn’t been able to sit and think even for a second.
he had jumped into it body, mind and soul. don’t get him wrong, he was a youngster who wanted to pursue music. he wanted to make it big, make music that truly spoke to the audience. but, another smaller, weaker, part of his brain used to keep reminding him. he had to do this. he had to be successful. there was no one waiting for him at the threshold of failure. no comforting arms or loving words, no caring smile or thoughtful actions. this was the first lesson korea had taught him.
in his pursuit of the vast open skies, he had learnt to let go of his footing.
the sea too deep, the sky drifts away,
one rides the current, one rides the breeze,
one calls for waves; one calls for trees.
after thame, mars had broken up. no one could believe it at first. dylan would find himself lingering in the group house—oner had let them keep it till they all found other accommodations—though dylan was in no hurry to.
dylan had been the one who had walked out before. he wasn’t a child, he knew this wasn’t a situation they could fix by banding together again. but, that’s the worst part about being human. the fires alight, they ravish everything in their path, they take the earth and, tear the skies apart. but what can they do in front of the unbending, unyielding chill of hope.
and that had been it. dylan had secretly been clinging onto some little hope. deep within his heart, he would feel things get a little better every time he’d see pepper, jun and nano together. sitting across the television on the couch. cooking together in the kitchen sometimes. outside in the garden by the picnic table that had held more memories than food.
when it went from seeing jun, nano and pepper to seeing only jun and nano, he doesn’t know. and when it went from jun and nano, to seeing just jun, he doesn’t want to remember.
dylan started spending more time outside the house. he couldn’t bear to stay trapped within those four walls anymore. he couldn’t think of it as home anymore anyway. the home had always been the four smiles and their sheltering warmth. maybe this is why, he had missed seeing jun, nano and pepper together for the last time.
when he came back one night, late and a little tipsy, having spent another night at the underground rap bar, he switched the lights on to see filled cartons and empty shelves. his helpless human habit had hit him haplessly. hope felt like the edge of a dream, on the cusp of turning into a reality he didn’t realize he wanted this bad.
dylan doesn’t remember much about that night. he knows his gaze was sharp, as he looked inside the house. he stilled and waited for a sound, anything that told him his friends were there. anything that gave him the faith that someone was there, waiting to be found, waiting to be helped.
but his gaze had turned up empty. all he had found, was the dried leaves of the plant in the center of their living room. dylan doesn’t know when he had taken his bag and shoes off, but as he was packing his things the next day, he had found them lying next to the plant.
he had stood and stared at the plant for a while. in another life, where the world hadn’t been so unkind to them, dylan would’ve written a thousand songs about that plant. that damned plant which had held their group together since the very beginning.
he would have written about how it had acted as the secure roots of their delicate friendship. it had been their shade in a world full of relentless harsh sun. but thus is the story of every plant, immeasurable faith also weakens in the wake of fate. it was in the plants very nature to dry up and die eventually. he would have questioned the plant, how dare it give up on them when he hadn’t yet?
but dylan didn’t do any of that. he simply picked up his handwritten note hanging on the plant. it was the only one remaining. all the others were gone already. perhaps they had been missing for a while now. instead, they had been replaced by the rotting fruit of hope, hanging by the weak, dead twigs of the plant.
The bird hums songs of the sun’s golden rise,
the fish dreams of corals in shimmering tides,
pepper felt it differently this time around. when his heart had broken the first time in his life, it was when gam had left him. he remembered the heartbreak of that time still. it was like a physical ache. he would feel it all the time.
but when he was with his members, it would temporarily relieve him. it was like a breath of fresh air to a dying man. dylan would force pepper to go to the studio with him, force him to work on things that they both knew were never leaving the room. thame would ask pepper to go for random walks, stay up late just to talk their fears, hurts and hopes out. nano would be the most helpful, making pepper go out to meet friends and making sure he doesn’t self-isolate. jun would help in his own way, which pepper only realised much later, by being constantly present. not letting pepper have any moments alone in peace, but also not in despair.
pepper had always been the reliable one in the group. thame and him had worked really hard to keep everyone together, worked through arguments at 2am, mishaps in the rehearsal room, sorted issues between the company and the members. if anyone could ever lead mars, outside of thame, it would definitely be him.
but, there was a truth that only he knew. internally, he knew he relied on the members just as much as they did him. the constant quiet of his mind welcomed the loud chatter, warmth and love of the members, of his family. it was what gave him the will to keep going, to keep moving forward. every day that he worked hard, sorted out another mind-numbing problem, it was just to see the smiles on their faces again. he had a soft spot for the members. he didn’t have it in him to ever truly be mad at them, to be upset with them for a long period. he always gave in.
but when pepper’s heart broke a second time, he didn’t have any of them. thame’s presence miles away in another country, nano’s hope thawing on its own, dylan’s studio sessions few, and jun’s constant chatter finally gone quiet.
he had nothing to hang onto. he sat in his room for hours on end, waiting for someone to come up to him and give him their classic pout, before asking him for some absurd thing yet again.
wherein his first heartbreak had been immediate, like a bullet piercing through the skin in one go, the second felt like a sword, slowly being pressed deeper into the flesh, constantly taking more every moment.
very quickly, his heart shattered again. the pain was all-consuming. it felt similar to before, yet different somehow. the pain never numbed, it stayed constant. when he sat with them for lunch, tried to sleep, did anything to not think about the pain for just one second. the pain remained bottled inside, with no calming balm in the form of his members to numb the hurt.
he had no idea how to deal with it. waiting to be rescued, while knowing they were counting on him to help them float in their seas of despair. it turned redundant very quick. he took a decision then. the only way to save themselves, was for them to go their separate ways. the pain of the sword would never dull, unless it was pulled out of him.
he made quick work of it, finding a place, and shifting as soon as he got an opportunity. the new place made the quiet return again. it was painful, yes, but he knew he could start afresh here. in due time, he knew it would pass, as all things eventually do.
looking back years later, now in a bigger apartment near studios where he would go for work, he thinks the sword never truly left his bones. it slowly removed itself over the years, but a small piece of it stayed behind, piercing him every time he thought of his members again. every memory of them came at a price, the pain strong yet sweet. the act tortuous in its manifestation. but such is the ache of a life long-forgotten, treacherous in its tenderness, like pressing down on a wound that closed years ago, but remains fresh.
he doesn’t think the wound could ever heal.
in stolen moments, in love and despair
"i'd give up the sky" whispers the bird,
nano had tried to stay. he knows his phis had stayed strong for him countless times over the years. he had been barely 18, so young and new to bangkok, trying to chase after his dreams. back then, he had been so sure of what his dream was. but, he barely even recognised himself anymore.
after mars, it was almost as if he lost sight of his very existence. it felt futile sometimes, existing in a space where mars did, but also didn’t. like his reality was being torn again and again, piece by piece, every time he let the thoughts run wild in his head. in those moments, he told himself that he’s doing this for his members. each of whom had supported him in their own ways over the years. and thus, he tried to support them too. he tried to make pepper stay for a little longer in the group house, tried to talk to oner about new projects, tried to stay cheerful and optimistic.
but the day pepper moved out, it was with a glass-shatter that he realised he was putting up a front. the optimism that used to come to him naturally was now just a fable he was trying to sell. maybe to his members, maybe to himself, he wasn’t sure. but it was clear that he needed to leave. with a heavy heart, he told jun that he had found an apartment. a nice cozy one a little on the outskirts of town, with big windows that overlooked nature. one that resembled the group house, but not too much.
over the next few weeks, he kept himself occupied. dragging jun here and there, buying this and that. but at nights, when he lay in his bed and truly thought about the day he would move, his heart would hurt. the hurt would swallow everything for a while. enormous in its existence, it threatened to spill over in the form of tears.
he would often toss and turn through the night, wondering, debating, what he would say to the members the day of his move. how would he face jun, how would he face dylan? it would get too much for him, so he’d promise to come up with an answer the next day, after all, his phis deserved a nice goodbye from this part of their lives, he owed them that much. and it needed to be a goodbye that fit the love he received from them over the years.
the day of his moving came quicker than expected. his entire life, everything he had known and trusted, was suddenly packaged in boxes. it was at that moment, with his boxes in a truck and bags packed into a car, that he had taken one look back at the mars house and decided that saying goodbye was too difficult. so, he didn’t.
how does one say goodbye to their youth, their family, their dreams, themselves? what does one say? does he leave sweet letters for his members? should he take detailed videos of the entire place? should he go hug his p’dylan and never let go? in reality, none of these acts could have ever measured up to what it had meant to him.
and so, he decided, the only way to respect their love was to let it be. to let it exist, with acknowledgement yes, but without ceremony. the only thing he could do in return was to not disrupt their mourning, the loss of a love they didn’t know life without. he owed that to them, and to himself.
"i'd leave the sea" says the fish, unheard,
for love is a whisper, fragile and bright,
but some worlds won't bend, no matter the fight
po’s career had flourished after thame left. the music video he had created for mars had gotten him a lot of recognition, and fame. and with those two, came opportunities. shortly after mars disbanded, he was approached by another company. they had offered him a better position with more creative freedom and a better working environment.
it was the easiest decision he had made in those days. everything had been incredibly exhausting back then. he felt as though he was getting through life, rather than living in it. life became clockwork so quickly.
he hadn’t felt that alone ever. he couldn’t bring himself to talk to anyone properly. jun had tried, and so had nano, pepper and even dylan. but everything reminded him of thame. he couldn’t step foot into oner’s building without feeling dread. his apartment felt empty. he didn’t have any reason for being there anymore.
switching companies gave him the new environment he desperately needed. it helped that his new office was on the other side of the city thus he had to shift apartments to a nearer location.
everything was new and he could throw himself in his work. he had gotten the opportunity to direct a new movie the company was making. the company was just starting out, had less resources than oner, but was more appreciative of his art.
he had helped build that company from the ground up, and now, the company was one of the most successful production houses in the country. they even boasted international recognition.
po had gotten to direct so many films. he started getting interested in writing as well. he found new passions and new interests.
but the ghost of thame always existed. he often found himself sitting on his balcony, late at night when certain memories would slip out of the warmest corners of his heart without warning. he would sit and look out onto the city. he would feel it then. everything they had been, always lingering in the back of his mind.
he would try not to think of it, but many times he would sit and wonder. what would have happened if thame hadn’t left? what if mars hadn’t disbanded? what if he hadn’t left oner?
would life have been any different, he wondered. he would stay up the whole night on those days. the noise from the city beneath him being the only reminder that he was attempting to predict a future which had already passed him by.
he hadn’t seen any of the mars members since that day when thame left. none of them had really said anything to each other. all of them were dealing with it in their own way. sometimes, po wishes he had spoken to them. tried to comfort them and let them comfort him. but those were the thoughts of a man he wasn’t anymore.
he had taken some time, but eventually he had followed up on what each of the members were doing. dylan had taken a break for a bit, but he had come back and become a popular name in the industry. his lyrics were some of the most admired in the country.
pepper had become a popular anchor, even going on to do acting gigs sometimes. he had received international acclaim very quickly. nano had continued to be a choreographer. he was the choreographer of many popular groups and had his own dance studio. they all seemed happy whenever po checked their Instagram accounts in a moment of weakness.
jun was a different case. no one had heard of him in years, since they had all left the group house. his social media gone, number switched-off, and no family to reach out to. po only prayed that jun was happy wherever he was, hopefully living a full life, but he knew the chances were few. mars was everything to jun, and thame his entire life.
they never mentioned each other anymore. no one had been in the same room together since they disbanded. the memories were probably too heavy, po mused.
po had never been able to bring himself to check how thame was doing. but he’d hear of it, from radio stations and in news channels and people praising him all around. he felt a sense of pride which he didn’t feel deserving of anymore. it wasn’t his place anymore.
he wasn’t under any delusion that thame had probably moved on. he knew they both were it for each other, a fact he probably had known longer than he admitted. but it wasn’t of any use anymore.
and on some nights, when the memories lingered like hot air around him, he’d go for a walk. he’d think of thame, of the nights spent on these streets. of all the memories he had with thame, with mars, with that version of himself.
breathing would become easier in those moments. the weight of the world would feel a little lighter, as if the city itself was giving him a hug, and telling him that it was okay.
telling him that, even if that love couldn’t exist anymore, it doesn’t erase anything. reminding him that, within these streets, his love was a fact, not a mere memory. that his love had lingered, as had thame’s.
he slowly learnt to immerse himself in the memories. the touches, the words, the lingering gazes. the nights spent with thame, the days spent in longing of him. he would feel the moonlight shine on his face, and suddenly he could feel thame again.
and he realized that this was enough.
po had grown up. he had been left behind once before thame, but he was different then. after thame, he had been forced to grow up. when thame left him, po had realized what this love was.
his love had been a flower bud before. slowly learning to bloom as his affection for thame had flourished. but with the sun shining bright, too bright over him, he had realized that this flower was blooming within a dream that cannot come true.
so, po learnt to live with the memories of thame. the memories of his youth. the edge of his youth he wishes he got to chase. the love that continued to exist, but couldn’t change a thing.
so they linger at dusk, where two worlds embrace
a love that is real, but has no place,
for a fish and a bird may long for the same,
yet love without home is a love without name
– a poem by Junn.T.