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soundsofcicadas · 2 months ago

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Swan Song, part six

Pairing: Koo Junhoe x Reader (f)

Genres: Writer AU / Drama, Romance, Childhood best friends, Junhoe is a former idol, Friends to lovers

Count: 4171

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, intoxication, and drunken behavior.

Synopsis: After an unexpected encounter with your childhood best friend Junhoe, years after drifting apart, your rekindled friendship blooms anew. However, life takes a turn when he asks you to pen an article for his upcoming wedding. As you become entangled in his personal life, your old feelings of love for him begin resurfacing and the concealed secret behind his decision to abandon his idol career is soon to be unveiled by you.

Nearly two months had passed since that day at the noodle shop, when things felt a little emotional between you and Junhoe. You hadn’t seen him since, but you knew it was because his wedding was fast approaching. The two of you stayed in touch, and Junhoe consistently traded messages with you until they became less frequent. Knowing you might start to worry again, Junhoe made sure to let you know that he was doing alright and that the reduced communication only meant he had gotten busier with the wedding preparations. He even shared with you that he and Yuna were planning something small and intimate—just a simple ceremony at the church in your hometown, followed by a modest reception at his family’s house. Only a few of Yuna’s close friends, a handful of relatives, and of course, you and the boys were invited. The kind of celebration that felt more like home than a spectacle. You’d even found yourself smiling when he mentioned Jiwon and Donghyuk would be flying back to attend.

Later on, he and Yuna went over the same details in an online meeting with Yeri and the rest of your team. That was when you saw him again, even if only through the screen. Junhoe acknowledged your presence, looking delighted to see you again. The couple seemed to be doing well—there was no strange tension between them. They interacted with Yeri and the rest of you with the same calm professionalism. The meeting moved quickly, covering plans, setups, and responsibilities.

Then it struck you, everything all at once—it felt like time had flown since you last saw him at the record store. Here he was, about to get married, and here you were, writing about his marriage.

So you did what you knew best—you stayed focused on work and poured yourself into the planning and execution of the coverage, determined to keep your emotions in check. You wanted to stay grounded, to not let your feelings for Junhoe take over. More than anything, you wanted to be genuinely happy for him, to honor the bond you still shared. If this was all you could be to him now—a friend—you were willing to hold on to that, and make peace with it. Even your suspicions about Junhoe’s condition faded into the background, lost in all the noise of what came after.

One week before Junhoe’s wedding, you found something unexpected waiting in your mailbox. Resting among the usual flyers and mundane letters was an envelope you didn’t recognize—sleek, elegant, and made from heavy cream cardstock. Your name and mailing address were handwritten in clean, careful strokes, and the flap was sealed with an intricate wax stamp that bore no familiar insignia. No return address. No indication of who had sent it or where it had come from.

You furrowed your brow. Junhoe’s wedding invitation had already arrived weeks ago, so what could this be?

You slipped your finger under the seal and carefully opened it. Inside was a single card, thick and smooth to the touch. In the center, embossed in graceful cursive, it read:

If you have received this envelope, you are invited and required to attend Koo Junhoe’s Bachelor Party this coming Friday. Party starts at 8 PM. Dress code: Evening attire.

Beneath the message, the location was printed in smaller, bold text, followed by what looked like a disclaimer:

This party is an exclusive gathering for Junhoe’s close friends. This isn’t your average bachelor party either (no strippers or anything of that sort). However, feel free to bring a date. Please remember, this is a surprise party for Junhoe, so keep it a secret! And make sure not to be late. -KJH

You couldn’t help but laugh at the “no strippers” line on the note—thank God this wasn’t going to be one of those wild bachelor parties you’d heard about. But curiosity soon followed you, as your laughter faded.

KJH? The initials stuck in your head. Who could’ve sent this? The question nagged at you until a name suddenly came to mind—could it be Kim Jinhwan? You’d never met him in person, but you remembered seeing him at one of Junhoe’s concerts a while back. He was Junhoe’s longtime best friend from the music industry, and you were almost convinced he was the one behind organizing the party.

Thursday.

You stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting the apricot-colored silk dress that you had bought for tomorrow night’s party. The dress was sleeveless, falling just past your knees, but not quite reaching your feet. The fabric shimmered softly in the light, and as you examined yourself, you debated whether this color had been the right choice. Maybe you should have gone with black—something safer, more formal. But then again, the shoes you’d picked out complemented the dress perfectly: a pair of satin stilettos in the same apricot hue.

As you continued to second-guess your decision, your phone buzzed on the bed beside you. You picked it up, seeing a message from Hanbin: Hey y/n, Yeri and I will pick you up at 7 p.m. tomorrow.

Then, just as you were about to reply to his text, another notification lit up the screen. This time, it was from Yoshi: Hello noona, I will pick you up at your place tomorrow night at 7. See you ;)

You stared at the message, blinking. A pause stretched out as your mind tried to catch up—Yoshi? You hadn’t asked him to pick you up.

And then it hit you.

You brought a palm to your forehead, letting out a groan as the memory came rushing back. A few nights ago, the entire magazine team had gone out for drinks after work—a rare night where deadlines were done, and even Yeri and Chanwoo let loose a little. You remembered sitting beside Yoshi, laughing over something trivial… and then nothing. A hazy blur. You’d gotten drunk.

Too drunk.

Bits and pieces floated back—Junhoe’s bachelor party, plus-ones, and somewhere in between, you might have asked Yoshi to come with you as your date. Your stomach twisted.

You had no idea what he said in response that night, but judging by his message now, he’d taken your invitation seriously.

Regret bubbled up. What did I even say? you wondered, mentally retracing every fuzzy step of that evening. Part of you wanted to reply and clear it up, politely decline, or say you’d made a mistake. But another part of you hesitated. It was true—Hanbin would be with Yeri, and Yunhyeong was bringing his girlfriend. If you backed out, you’d be the only one at the party without a date.

You sighed, sinking onto the edge of the bed. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. Besides, Yoshi was good company. And somehow, it felt easier going in with someone by your side.

With a heavy sigh, you picked up your phone again, the weight of embarrassment sitting squarely on your shoulders. You stared at Yoshi’s message for a moment before typing out your reply—you were reluctant, but sincere. Hey, I’m so sorry for being drunk and all over the place the other night. I must’ve said something stupid. But really, thanks for remembering and agreeing to come with me. I appreciate it. I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow.

You hit send before you could overthink it. Your cheeks warmed as you imagined Yoshi reading it, probably smiling in that easy, harmless way he always did.

Then you tapped on Hanbin’s name. Bin, no need to pick me up tomorrow. I’m riding with Yoshi.

Not even ten seconds later, your screen lit up again. Okaay, Ms. Bringing a date.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. Of course Hanbin would tease you.

Friday.

The night was supposed to be a celebration, but Junhoe’s excitement dipped the moment he noticed you weren’t there.

The party was held at a stunning villa owned by Jinwoo—Jinhwan’s boyfriend. The place was inviting and lively, with large windows overlooking a glimmering pool outside, reflecting the string lights crisscrossing above. A movie projector was also set up nearby, playing classic movies across a floating screen. Inside, a billiard table and a modern vintage jukebox stood in one corner of the wide lounge, surrounded by a few more gaming setups scattered throughout. The living and dining areas had been transformed for the occasion—tastefully decorated in rich reds and gleaming silvers, complete with a table loaded with mouthwatering food, snacks, and all kinds of drinks.

Junhoe walked in expecting a quiet dinner with Jinhwan and Jinwoo, who had just arrived in his hometown for the wedding—but the dim lights, loud cheers, and known faces said otherwise. It was his surprise bachelor party.

Everyone was there: some of his friends from the music and film industry, and of course, his childhood friends and groomsmen—Jinhwan, Hanbin and Yunhyeong—each with their partners in tow.

Still, one face was missing.

With a slight frown, he turned to Hanbin. “Where is she?”

Hanbin, already on his phone, didn’t miss a beat. “I’m texting her. She said Yoshi got the GPS wrong, but they’re close.”

Junhoe blinked. She’s bringing Yoshi with her? The thought intrigued him.

You and Yoshi arrived at the villa at half past eight.

Yoshi looked genuinely apologetic as he parked the car. “I’m really sorry, noona. There was a mix-up with the GPS! The place I pinned had almost the same address as this one.”

You smiled and waved it off. “It’s okay, Yoshi. Don’t stress about it, we’re here now.”

You were welcomed by the sound of music and laughter echoing from the villa. Hanbin greeted you at the door with a grin. “Finally. Thought you two got lost for real.”

Junhoe stood just behind him, wearing a white tee under a black leather jacket and faded jeans—completely off-theme from the rest of the guests who clearly got the memo on the dress code. It was kind of amusing how unprepared he looked—he clearly hadn’t seen this surprise coming.

You quickly apologized, half-laughing, “I’m so sorry we’re late—”

“It was my fault,” Yoshi cut in quickly. “I messed up the GPS.”

Junhoe nodded, though he wasn’t really listening to Yoshi’s explanation. His eyes were on you—taking in how pretty you looked in that apricot silk dress, your hair tucked neatly behind your ears.

After making your rounds and greeting the guests inside, you eventually stepped back out and found yourself alone with Junhoe by the pool. Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac played softly from inside the villa, blending with the quiet dialogue of Scarface on the projector.

Smiling, you handed him a bag containing your gift. “I know this is your night, but… sorry again for being late. And—congratulations, Junhoe.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Y/n… you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I wanted to,” you said, throwing him a cheeky wink.

Junhoe opened the white paper bag and pulled out a dark red box with a crisp white ribbon. Carefully, he undid the bow and opened it. Inside was a deep wine-colored Valentino tie.

He let out a low whistle. “Wow… This is beautiful.”

“You’re getting married. You deserve something nice,” you grinned, nudging him slightly.

He looked up at you, his eyes glowing with fondness. “You always knew how to pick the right things.”

You shrugged, heart thudding a little harder than you wanted to admit. “Just figured it’d suit you.”

“Thank you, y/n. Really,” Junhoe traced the silk fabric with his fingers, looking at it like it meant more than just a gift.

And for a fleeting moment, it felt like it was just the two of you—wrapped in silence and suspended in something that didn’t need words.

Junhoe turned the tie over in his hands, admiring it a bit longer before glancing back up at you with an expression that was more curious than grateful this time.

“So… Yoshi as your date huh?” Junhoe asked trying to sound casual, but you could feel the weight behind the question. “Is that… for real?”

You let out a nervous laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you looked away toward the pool. “It’s… not like that.”

Junhoe raised an eyebrow. “I mean, you came here with him. Is there something going on?”

You hesitated. You couldn’t exactly tell him that you had drunkenly invited Yoshi just to avoid feeling left out. Instead of answering, you deflected, your eyes sweeping across the villa. “Can we talk about how impressive this whole party is? Jinhwan really went all out. I mean—he nailed your vibe, right down to the jukebox.”

“Yeah… he really did,” Junhoe chuckled, clearly catching on to how you were dodging the topic. But he didn’t drop it completely. “I hope Yoshi’s a good guy… whoever you’re with, I want him to see you the way your friends do, the way I do,” his voice softened as he looked at you, more thoughtful now. “You deserve the best guy on the planet, y/n.”

You swallowed hard at that, unsure what to say—unsure if you could say anything without letting something slip that wasn’t supposed to.

With a teasing grin, you steered things elsewhere instead. “Okay, Mr. Sentimental. Let’s talk about you. How’s the groom-to-be feeling, huh? Two nights left before your big day.”

Junhoe smiled, letting the change in topic slide—though his eyes lingered on you a second longer than necessary. “Honestly? It didn’t really hit me until recently. Everything’s been so busy. But now that it’s almost here… yeah. It’s surreal.”

You chuckled, trying to play it cool. “So? Where are you two headed after the wedding? Somewhere fancy, I bet.”

He smiled, this time with a little more excitement. “Paris. We’ll be spending a month there.”

“Wow,” your mouth hung open. “A whole month in Paris?”

Junhoe nodded. “Yeah. Yuna’s always dreamed of it, and honestly, I could use the escape too.”

“That sounds perfect, Jun,” the words slipped out naturally, even though part of you was still coming to terms with the fact that this new life of his was one where you could never have him.

Your conversation with Junhoe trailed off just as voices called out from the patio doors.

“There they are—Joan and Bob!” Yunhyeong exclaimed jokingly. “Food’s getting cold, guys. Are we missing out on some juicy gossip or what?”

You looked over your shoulder to see him and Hanbin grinning like kids, as if they’d caught you two doing something scandalous.

Junhoe, oblivious to the reference, shot Yunhyeong a playful grimace while you snorted at the joke. You wanted to throttle Yunhyeong then and there for calling you both those names. Was Junhoe the Bob Dylan to your Joan Baez? If only he knew just how close to home that comparison was… kind of, but not really.

Hanbin threw you a dramatic side-eye, wagging his finger at you in mock scolding. “Your date’s inside losing at pool, by the way, and you’re just out here? Cold move, y/n.”

Junhoe glanced back at you with a smirk, and you laughed, hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright—we’re coming!”

************************************************************************

It was a filling, satisfying dinner—plates passed around, stories exchanged, and laughter bouncing off the walls of the villa. With full stomachs and loosened spirits, the guests had slowly dispersed across the space. Some gathered by the billiards table, while others lounged near the pool watching the movie on the projector. In the living room, you found yourself surrounded by easy company: Yoshi by your side, with Hanbin and Yeri next to him. Yunhyeong and Eunha sat together on the opposite sofa, while Junhoe had taken the armrest. The center table was lined with different kinds of alcohol—wine, tequila, beer, soju, and even sake. Bottles clinked against glasses, conversations overlapped with teasing remarks and tipsy banter that never seemed to run dry.

Yunhyeong launched another story about an old camping trip, recalling how a very drunk Hanbin had crawled into his sleeping bag by mistake and ended up using him as a human pillow. “When I woke up,” Yunhyeong said, already laughing, “his mouth was on my cheek—and I caught all his saliva.”

Hanbin doubled over, wheezing, while the whole group erupted in laughter. Yeri groaned in mock disgust, clutching her drink. “That’s foul, babe. Absolutely foul.”

You leaned forward slightly, reaching past Yoshi to tap Hanbin’s knee with a sly grin. “Bin, remember that night we went out drinking for Donghyuk’s send-off?”

Hanbin pressed his glass to his face, eyes squeezed shut as he chuckled. “I know where this is going!”

You smirked, turning to include the rest of the group. “Yun got so wasted that night, he walked straight to the fridge near the cashier, thinking it was the toilet.”

Yunhyeong threw his head back laughing, one hand covering his face. “I hate you!”

“And he was seconds away from unzipping his pants!” you continued, “until Bin and Dongie grabbed him and started yelling, ‘Hyung! That’s the fridge!’”

Hanbin slapped his knee, his voice loud. “We thought we were gonna get banned from the pub! He kept mumbling, ‘Just gotta pee real quick…’ we were panicking!”

“I was sleepy!” Yunhyeong shouted through his laughter.

Junhoe leaned over, cracking up. “You almost peed on the beer bottles?”

Eunha giggled. “That’s the most Yunhyeong story I’ve ever heard.”

“I think that tops the one when he did body rolls at that jazz club we all went to for my birthday,” Yeri said with a grin, clearly remembering it well.

You raised your glass toward Yunhyeong, smug. “Call it balance.”

The group erupted again, the energy rising with every chaotic memory.

As the hours wore on, the drinks kept flowing and snacks were passed around, the atmosphere grew hot and heady—voices rising with old stories and new jokes. At one point, Hanbin raised his glass to Junhoe for a toast, congratulating him. Each of you followed with your best wishes for the groom-to-be. Eventually, Jinhwan and Jinwoo took over the energy in the room, cranking it up a notch.

“Alright, everyone!” Jinhwan announced, clapping his hands. “Enough sitting around—get up, we’re dancing!”

The jukebox whirred to life, blasting The Rolling Stones’ Let’s Spend The Night Together that made everyone cheer. One by one, people started pulling each other to the open space in the living room, now cleared for dancing. You couldn’t stop smiling as you stood, watching Yeri tug Hanbin by the wrist toward the makeshift dance floor. Yoshi offered his hand with a small bow, and you let him lead you with a soft laugh.

As you swayed to the beat, you took in the scene—friends laughing, dancing freely, arms wrapped around shoulders, memories being made in real time. You couldn’t describe the feeling exactly, but it filled you to the brim. Bliss, nostalgia, something carefree. Everyone was here. Together. And for tonight, nothing else mattered.

You spotted Junhoe across the room, now being pulled into a goofy dance-off with Yunhyeong to the song Footloose. He was laughing—head thrown back, eyes crinkling. Completely carried away by the moment.

And that, you thought, might’ve been your favorite part of the night.

It was well past midnight when everything began to hush. The drunken laughter and shouting had faded into hums and sleepy smiles. The jukebox clicked, and a soft ballad began to play, threading its melody through the dimmed lights, the lingering scent of alcohol, and the cool brush of night air.

Only a few remained on the dance floor now—Jinwoo and Jinhwan swaying closely, their foreheads nearly touching. Yunhyeong, on the other hand, had spun Eunha before she tucked her head into his shoulder. It was a quiet kind of love that filled the floor—the kind that didn’t need to speak too loud.

On the sofa, Hanbin lay passed out with his head on Yeri’s lap, mumbling something unintelligible every now and then. She simply brushed his hair back, smiling sleepily. Yoshi, sitting beside you, was nearly dozing off, his head leaning back against the cushions. You, on the other hand, were still very much drunk, grinning dreamily as you watched the couples dance.

Then you heard his voice. “Wanna dance?”

Junhoe who was just as drunk as you were stood beside you, hands in his pockets, eyes glinting with something unreadable. The curve of a crooked smile playing on his lips. Something in the way he looked at you pulled at your heartstrings.

“I’m going to step on your foot,” you warned him.

Junhoe chuckled, extending his hand. “Then I’ll just have to be careful.”

Your fingers met his, and he pulled you up with a laugh that made your heart stumble a little. You walked toward the open floor together, giggling like kids at a school dance. The next ballad that played was Break It to Me Gently by Brenda Lee.

You rested your hands on his shoulders and his on your waist, and just like that, the world quieted. Everything else faded—the party, the drinks, the reality waiting outside of tonight. It was just the two of you, swaying under dim lights and slow music. Junhoe smelled of musk and tequila, and yours carried traces of vanilla and wine. The mix was dizzying, but both of you didn’t mind the proximity. Neither of you said a word, but in your drunken stupor, all you could do was wish time would slow down. That he didn’t have to go. That he wasn’t getting married.

The song ended, leaving the crackle of the jukebox behind. You and Junhoe came to a gentle stop on the floor, your head now resting against his chest. His heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

You looked up at him, blinking slowly, a foolish, lopsided smile spreading across your face—until your balance gave way beneath you.

“Whoa, careful!” Junhoe had caught you just before you fell.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, steadying your swaying figure. The sudden movement caught the attention of everyone in the living room. Hanbin lifted his face from Yeri’s lap, Yunhyeong looked your way, and even Yoshi blinked himself awake.

Junhoe, still holding onto you, gave a sheepish grin. “She’s okay. I got her.”

“Maybe she should lie down,” Yeri said with vague concern.

“I’ll take her,” Junhoe replied, glancing at Yoshi, who only nodded in understanding, a little guilt in his eyes.

Jinwoo, arms still around Jinhwan, pointed toward the stairs. “You can bring her to any of the spare bedrooms upstairs.”

Junhoe nodded in thanks and crouched slightly. “Alright, up you go,” he said, hoisting you onto his back in one fluid motion. You mumbled something incoherent, arms draped loosely over his shoulders as he carried you upstairs, his steps careful despite the alcohol in his system. He took you to one of the guest rooms. A small lamp on the bedside table clicked on with a warm glow, as Junhoe set you down gently on the bed. Slowly, he slid off your heels, placing them orderly at the foot of the bed before grabbing the soft blanket folded at the end to cover you, smoothing it over your shoulder.

Junhoe stared at your peaceful face, conflicted whether to leave you alone to rest, but just as he was about to go, your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay,” you mumbled, your voice sluggish from the intoxication.

Junhoe nodded, pulling a chair from the corner closer to your bedside. He sat, elbows on his knees, watching as your eyelids fluttered and your cheeks flushed from drink.

“You’re really drunk,” he said, flashing you an inebriated smile—but unlike you, at least he could hold his liquor.

You giggled in reply, your words spilling out with no filter. “Everyone’s drunk. Hanbin talks too much. Yunhyeong thinks he’s a DJ. So dumb…”

Junhoe laughed under his breath. “Look who’s talking.”

Your eyes felt heavy. The room fell silent, and out of nowhere, you said it—your eyes closing as you spoke, never once looking directly at him.

“I can’t wait for you to get married, Junhoe,” you whispered—but he heard it. All of it.

“I want to forget my feelings for you. Wait until I move on from you.”

Junhoe’s breath caught, too stunned by your confession.

“Why didn’t I admit I liked you when we were kids?” you continued, your words slurred and slow. “Maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten about me for so long…”

Junhoe couldn’t utter a word—he was in disbelief. A subtle sting rose in his chest. Your feelings, long buried or overlooked, had surfaced the night before he was meant to promise himself to someone else.

You mumbled a bit more—nothing that made much sense—and then you were out like a light.

Junhoe sat there for a long moment, staring at you. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face delicately, his hand still, longer than he intended. He looked at you one last time as he stood, retreating from the room with a truth he hadn’t been ready to hear.

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