Jackrene Oneshots

Touch it

Irene stood on stage with Seulgi, trying to steady her breathing as she walked further into the limelight. Silence echoed in the arena, and it was exactly that, that made this more endearing. She was about to showcase her emotions to the world, she was about to expose her vulnerability; her heart to the world. She looked towards her best friend, her sister, who gave her a smile of reassurance. Yet it did nothing for nerves. She looked towards the audience, her hand on the microphone. Her eyes meeting with his by accident. She inhaled sharply. Closing her eyes as the music began softly around them.

How do I make the phone ring?
Why do I even care?

She had looked at her phone constantly, a habit she had gotten to when they had started their 'thing', she would sit and wait patiently for a phone call, for a message, anything to make her heart hurt less even if it was only for a few moments, but every single time she was let down. She knew he was busy, she knew when he was in Korea and when he was in China, and she knew she was asking for a lot. He had told her from the start that loving him wouldn't be easy, but she never wanted to stand in the way of his ambitions. No she wanted to be his partner through it all, his silent cheerleader, his rock. And she was. But she had foolishly believed she would get the same in return. She knew she shouldn't care, that she should let go of him, but that's the matter with the heart, it gets attached too easily, and then it's  painful to let go.

How are you all around me when you're not really there?
When you're not really there?

She was haunted by him in every way. At every corner, a memory of him would come to life. Whether it was in her apartment; where they had spent hours of loving, in her sheets, on the couch, in the bathroom, the kitchen: he had left no corner unturned. But even if that hurt she couldn't fathom what hurt more. Her other friends were also a direct link to him, people who she had gained in her life, because of him, and through them, she was reminded of him. Every restaurant that she loved to eat at, had memorise of them both in their four walls, but the fact remained: even if the memorise were there, they were no longer the reality. The apparitions of him that followed her where non existent in the real world. A reminder that he wasn't there. And at times like that she couldn't help but laugh bitterly. Her memorise had more life then she did.

How do I feel you on me when you're not on my skin?

She hated the fact that he haunted her in this way. It was sick. As if she was addicted to his touch. And it was. She didn't care if it was shameless, she didn't care if she would be judged for the way in which she was talking; because for once she was done hiding from her feelings. She had spent countless nights like this, awake at night, tossing and turning, trying to rid herself from the thoughts of him. Thoughts of him, kissing her softly, his hands trailing over her body. She had remembered all the times where she had given up on sleep because of him, the way her hand would reach for her phone to message him. To ask him to come over. To tell him that she missed him. But all messages remained unsent. And she suffocated in her own desires. Her desires of him. And she knew in hindsight, they had made a mistake starting this: because their story remained incomplete.

Why do you say you want me, then tell me "I'm not coming in"?
Baby, just come on in

Her hand gripped the mic, her eyes opening for a split second to see his. He looked hurt, but before she could hurt herself more she closed her eyes, focusing on her own voice with seulgi who sang harmonising with her. Her mind flashed back to a familiar scene. A scene that had been repeated over and over again in her mind like a broken record. A time where she was adamant to save herself. To let go off what they had. To turn her back on him. She had accepted a date. A date with an old time friend park bogum. A man who respected her. A man who wanted to give her the world. It would have been simpler to be with him. She wouldn't have to experience the pain that she did with him. But Irene had never liked easy. She loved a challenge. It was the competitive spirt within her that loved the game they played, because winning had always been her agenda. But in that moment she remembered standing defeated. He had heard about the date, and to say he was angry was an understatement. Accusations had been thrown that night on her doorstep, her members trying hard not to listen into the shouts, but when they stood panting in front of each other, they looked at each other with something. An emotion that couldn't be put into words. She remembered the way he had said he wanted her; in more then one way. As more then just lust, he wanted her as his through everything, he had declared. But as soon as he uttered the words he turned away, telling her he wasn't coming in, and leaving her confused outside. Yet it was that exact moment that made her hang on desperately to the idea of them. The idea that they could be more.