Chapter 43

I feel the light; I feel the light

Five hours.

They were all lying in various positions around the room—anywhere but the couch, as per usual. Chan was leaning against the wall by the fridge, his hands fidgeting aimlessly, curling and uncurling. He didn't seem to realize he was doing it. Jisung and Minho were sitting with their backs against the couch, closer than they'd ever been before, dangerously so; the others were scattered about the floor, some lying at staring up at the ceiling, the others sitting with their arms wrapped around their knees. I felt a stab of pain at the scene—at seeing them so low, so lifeless. Looking at them now, I couldn't bring myself to regret my decision, and I knew I never would, not when this image would forever be scored into my brain.

I cleared my throat. "I have something to tell you guys," I said, wondering how to lead up to this. "I ... I reached out to someone in JYP-E." I paused as they all gave me their attention, slowly standing up.

"And?" Minho asked, his voice toneless.

"I convinced them to change JYP's mind." I spoke slowly, watching their faces shift. "They're going to reverse his decision." I offered them a smile. "You're not going to disband."

Chan gaped at me, his hands finally stilling. "What?"

"I fixed it," I said, reassuring him as much as I could with my words. "Stray Kids is going to Stay."

There was a beat of utter, shocked silence. And then—

Seungmin made a half-gasping, half-choking noise, and fell to his knees.

With that, the room erupted. There was so much happening at once, I only registered bits and pieces: Jeongin, clinging to me like a sloth to a tree, crying—I could feel his tears soaking into my shirt—and smiling so widely it looked like sadness. Felix and Hyunjin hugging, Minho's hand curling around Jisung's. Bangchan grabbing my hands, his voice raw, thanking me over and over again. His hands shaking like leaves in a storm.

The room was ecstatic. There were cries of joy, and moments of silence where it was all the members could do to hold one another. I caught Felix's eyes across the room, and he just nodded to me, a recognition of what I'd done. Thank you, he mouthed to me, and—as Hyunjin came over again to put his arm around him—I knew that Felix didn't just mean for this. This made up for it all, every broken promise and ragged word between us. And that alone would have brought tears to my eyes if they hadn't been there already.

"I can't believe it," Jeongin was saying, his smile bigger than his face. "I can't believe it's real. I—" he cut himself off, burying his face in Chan's neck, who hugged him back fiercely, maknae and hyung. The members all crowded around them, dissolving into one happy group hug, and I watched from the same spot I'd had the whole time, letting them rejoice.

A hand curled around my upper arm. Changbin pulled me into the corner, his eyes hard, so different from the euphoria I'd seen on the other's faces.

"Come with me," he ordered, leading me away from that room so full of happiness it could burst, and into a quieter place.

-

"Who," was all he said.

"Who what?"

"Who did you call, Yeji. Who did you reach out to in JYP-E?"

I avoided his eyes. "Based on this questionnaire, I have the feeling you already know."

Changbin's jaw fell slack. "You didn't."

"I did," I said quietly.

His voice was like steel. "What did she offer you? What did she say?"

"Oh, you know." I inched my way around Changbin, trying to get to the door. "Just wanted to catch up and all. How the weather is here, if I've heard about how the Dodgers are doing—"

"Yeji." Bin's voice offered no chance for going around the question, and I blew out a breath in defeat.

"She told me she'd use her standing in the company if I agreed to give up writing and apply for a job as an engineer under Uncle's corporation," I replied, hating how small my voice sounded. "And if I video-called her once a month and got to know some of the suitors Dad has been prying me with." I swallowed, not wanting to voice what came next. "And ... if I ended it with Claire."

I didn't have to see Changbin's face; his disbelief was clear in his voice. "No."

My silence was answer enough.

"Yeji, don't listen to her." Changbin caught my hands in his, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You don't have to do a single thing she said. Do you hear me? You don't have to do any of it."

"I won't risk her going back to JYP, Bin," I answered, a spark of fire lighting my voice. "I won't let this be for nothing. I can't."

Changbin shook his head fiercely. "No. I won't let you give up your life for us—for me. You've worked too hard, done too much. I won't let you."

If I had just tried harder...

"I already made my choice," I said softly, touching his shoulder. He shook me off, lowering his head so I couldn't meet his eyes, and my chest ached for him. "Yah, Seo Changbin. I'm your older sister. You've been caring for me for the past two months." I felt my mouth curve softly, some dry, strung-out thing that might have once resembled a smile. "It's my turn now."

My little brother shook his head again, still looking down. Gently, I placed my hand under his chin and tilted it up, bearing the tears in his eyes, the despair on his face.

"At least stay with Claire," he said, and I hated how broken his voice was, how defeated. "You get to give up on yourself, but promise me you won't give up on her."

My face was wet too, now. "Bin—"

"Promise me." He took my face in his hands, leaning forward until he could rest his brow against mine. I felt the tears on his cheeks, heard his pounding heart where our foreheads touched.

"Okay," I whispered. My eyes closed, and we stayed like that for a while, leaning on one another for support, until I drew back and placed a kiss on his brow.

"I love you," I said, then repeated it in English, because it always sounded better to me in that language than in Korean.

Changbin understood. "I love you too," he said, and I wrapped my arms around him and held him close.

In that moment, I knew I had made the right decision. If for nothing else, then for my brother---impossibly caring, impossibly kind. Impossibly good.

How did you manage it, omma? I asked into my mind. How did someone as twisted as you end up raising someone as good as him? Maybe you are a good mother, after all. Maybe you do love him, in all the better ways than you loved me.

Maybe I should hate you more, for making my brother so easy to give up the world for. Maybe then I wouldn't have to be here.

I tucked my face into the crook of Changbin's neck. And then I realized that I did, actually, want to be here.

-

The night was filled with celebration: singing, crying, laughter. Chan broke out the bottle of champagne he'd had stored in the cabinet—for what occasion, no one knew—and when the night began to end and the air warmed again, we all clambered outside, watching the sun rise together and the last of the stars fade into dawn.

Through it all, Jisung and Minho rarely left each other's side. Jisung caught my eye once, and I knew everything he communicated in that glance: I'd saved him twice now, and he wasn't the person to take that lightly.

Chan lifted his glass, clearing his throat and getting our attention. I looked up from where my arms were slung over Jeongin's and Changbin's shoulders, respectively, and smiled at him encouragingly. The leader of Stray Kids nodded to me once more and began his toast.

"I am ... I am so glad that I found you all," he began, and shit, because I was already feeling tears prick at my eyes. "I was on my own for so long, long enough I wondered if I'd ever find people who knew—who knew me, you know?" His laugh was wet with tears. "And then, suddenly, I found you all, and you saved me. We're all so different, but—in our hearts, we're all dreaming, and all of our dreams are the same. You're all—you're all my brothers. Family, you know?—It's like Stitch said. Ohana. We don't leave each other behind."

Someone was crying. I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Ah, so it was me, then. Next to me, Jisung let out a sob and loudly blew his nose into a tissue, and I realized he was the person I'd heard, not myself. "Sorry," Jisung said, looking up from his tissue. "I just—you say we saved you, Chan-hyung, but we wouldn't be a group without you. You saved us too." He sobbed again, honking into the tissue as if he was spewing emotions into it as well as snot. I rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, and he leaned into my chest for support. Noticing Minho standing next to me, I quickly handed Jisung off, and Minho wrapped his arm around the younger boy without missing a beat.

"I'll won't forget this, everyone," Seungmin said quietly. "This—being here, being Stray Kids—I won't forget it." His voice was soft, and deceptively so, because it carried the weight of worlds. "I won't forget you all. Even after we eventually disband and go different ways and grow old ... I'll remember."

I don't believe in forevers, I could've sworn I heard the wind say. But just in this moment, with the members and everyone who helped us...

"Me too." I looked up—it was Jeongin, his face streaked with silent tears, cutting down his cheeks like rain.

"Me too," Changbin said softly. Chan put his arm around him, and he added ruefully, "I won't have a choice. You all are so loud and annoying I wouldn't be able to forget it if I tried."

Seungmin laughed.

I want to believe in an eternity with you.

The room fell into soft, content silence, and I looked around. Minho was still holding Jisung; as I watched, Jisung met his eyes, and the two shared a small smile. Across the room, Hyunjin caught Felix staring. For a second, his face was unreadable; and then it broke out into a smile, soft and hopeful, the kind of smile that could heal the deepest fractures and most splintered hearts. Tentatively at first, Felix smiled back, so many endless possibilities etched upon his face his eyes shone like stars.

I raised my glass, euphoria and dreamlike happiness clouding my mind better than any drink or drug. "Let's promise, then," I said, meeting each of their eyes in turn, my gaze falling lastly on Changbin, my brother, who'd introduced me to these amazing people, and shown me how they'd made him into a better person. A person I was so proud of sometimes I could barely breathe.

"I know I'm leaving soon," I said softly, my heart overflowing. "So until then, let's promise—promise you'll remember me, because I'm sure as hell going to remember all of you. Ohana, yeah? Promise to never forget."

"To never forget," they chorused, every one of them, and we tipped our heads back and drank, eyes facing up towards the dawning sky and all the futures it held. My life was going to shit, and soon I would have to face the repercussions of my deal: calling my mother, introducing myself to some random boys I would never think twice of, and refocusing my career. But right then, in that tiny, perfect moment alone with Stray Kids, I could've sworn I saw our stories flash brightly in the last of the stars—stories that had previously been filled with loneliness and pain, gilded cages and blinding lights, but were now different stories: the stories of me, and Jisung and Minho, and Hyunjin and Felix, and Seungmin and Chan and Jeongin and Bin and Claire, both written and unwritten; the stories of us.