Actors: Prologue
Apr. 8th, 2013 05:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
borborygmus5000Title: Actors
Author:
borborygmus5000
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong
Rating: R
Length: Chaptered
Genre: Angst, drama, AU, romance
Summary: Yunho has always been Jaejoong's favourite actor, even from the time he was merely a struggling rookie with bit parts in indie projects. Jaejoong is the most important actor in Yunho's life, and the main motivation for him to make his mark in a dirty industry. Sponsorship is the unspoken dirty word, an open secret, yet not so open to some. Jaejoong and Yunho find themselves hanging precariously off the precipice, grabbing desperately at any remnants of their love, lest they plunge into the dark world of sponsorship.
Disclaimer: This is fiction. Pure fiction. The plot, characterization, everything down to each smidgen in the writing (unless otherwise credited), is a product of my imagination. I stake no claim whatsoever over the people mentioned herein.
His heart is throbbing painfully as he stares lifelessly at his phone, willing it to ring to life, willing a certain number to flash across the screen.
His mobile remaines stubbornly still and quiet.
He howls in anger and tosses the phone somewhere on the glass table before him. It lands with a pathetic, robotic clang.
He’s waited for hours. For days. And yet…
He hasn’t returned his call.
He hasn’t returned any of his calls since he called for a break.
They had an understanding. Regardless of how busy they were, or how mad they were at each other, they would always return a call at the earliest instance. “It’s my lover’s privilege,” the beautiful man had promised when they had both stated their terms at the start.
Yunho laughs bitterly. It seems such a privilege ceases when they are on a break.
He continues chugging down soju bombs, his recent painful realization gnawing him from inside-out, adding to his list of lost boyfriend privileges, his growing list of losses.
It burns.
His insides are burning.
He feels the intense burn in his throat, his oesophagus, his stomach as he continues to imbibe the transparent liquid fire.
But none of it compares to the burn in his heart.
The heart-wringing burn of love lost.
A cheerful jingle sounds, the happy tune mocking his dark mood as his phone screen lights up intermittently with each ring, the piece of plastic vibrating amongst green soju bottles haphazardly strewn all over his coffee table.
His feels sluggish, his mind completely lost in an alcohol-induced haze, but his heart desperately fights against the inertia as he rummages through the mess.
He finds it – oh thank god – and swipes at it hurriedly when he sees it’s him but he doesn’t hear his voice. The airy voice he’s dying to hear, the voice he misses so damn much.
He hears a sigh, and he’s so grateful to even hear anything from him again, so so grateful, that he breaks down and sobs loudly. On any other day, his bawling would have elicited tender kisses, comforting caresses, and mild teasing at how unmanly he was.
But tonight, just for once, he wants him to hear how pathetic and desperate he is, wants him to come back, wants him to know that his success will mean nothing without him.
He hears another heavy sigh on the phone before the breathy voice starts.
“I’ve made up my mind. Let’s meet to talk at 7 in the morning.”
He wipes his face and sucks his mucus up hurriedly and gathers himself to reply. “O-ok.” He croaks haltingly, pitifully, and the phone call ends abruptly, with nary a query of concern.
His stomach lurches, his heart constricting with fear. And he feels, no he knows, that it’s all slowly slipping away from him.
His love.
Four years later, the tall statuesque actor gazes pensively at the panoramic view from his luxurious penthouse. His lover would have squealed in delight at the floor-to-ceiling glass façade of the living room, and the spacious balcony adjoined to the master bedroom.
As he swirls the brown liquid in the glass held in his hand, he contemplates the different routes he could have taken in life. Had he not seen the meteoric rise to A-list stardom after a string of successful movies, he would not have even come close to enjoying the luxuries he could now summon with a simple snap of his finger, or a mere flashing of his platinum AMEX card. Or even better still, a mere show of his face.
And yet, as he tossed and turned in bed each night, sometimes alone, sometimes with company, he couldn’t control the overwhelming sense of emptiness he felt.
If he hadn’t hankered after the prestige being a top-tier celebrity held, maybe...
“Yunho-shii,” a cautious voice slices through the silence of the huge room. Yunho frowns at having his thoughts interrupted by the podgy man reflected in his glass window. He keeps his back turned away but tilts his head slightly, signaling for the man to go ahead and explain his presence on the only day he had off for the month. Everyone had been drilled with his “no-disturbance” policy on such rare days off; he had fired enough staff to prove his point.
Sensing the quiet waves of anger emanating from the strong presence before him, the man shifts his weight uncertainly between either foot, calculating how to break the news. He decides that straightforward is the way to go where the impatient man is concerned. He gulps-
“They’ve found him.”
A/N: OK here's something new. I'm just testing waters to see if there's interest. If I do proceed, it will probably be chaptered, but definitely shorter than Penance, and at most ten chapters in length. Or it may well turn out to be an actors! verse of sorts, but that's really too premature to say. No promises here since completing Penance is my top priority. Those who read Penance, do not worry, writing will resume by the end of next week. Also, I was thinking that this would be perfect with some graphics, but my resources are scant, so I shall not venture there for now. Thoughts?
Author:
borborygmus5000Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong
Rating: R
Length: Chaptered
Genre: Angst, drama, AU, romance
Summary: Yunho has always been Jaejoong's favourite actor, even from the time he was merely a struggling rookie with bit parts in indie projects. Jaejoong is the most important actor in Yunho's life, and the main motivation for him to make his mark in a dirty industry. Sponsorship is the unspoken dirty word, an open secret, yet not so open to some. Jaejoong and Yunho find themselves hanging precariously off the precipice, grabbing desperately at any remnants of their love, lest they plunge into the dark world of sponsorship.
Disclaimer: This is fiction. Pure fiction. The plot, characterization, everything down to each smidgen in the writing (unless otherwise credited), is a product of my imagination. I stake no claim whatsoever over the people mentioned herein.
His heart is throbbing painfully as he stares lifelessly at his phone, willing it to ring to life, willing a certain number to flash across the screen.
His mobile remaines stubbornly still and quiet.
He howls in anger and tosses the phone somewhere on the glass table before him. It lands with a pathetic, robotic clang.
He’s waited for hours. For days. And yet…
He hasn’t returned his call.
He hasn’t returned any of his calls since he called for a break.
They had an understanding. Regardless of how busy they were, or how mad they were at each other, they would always return a call at the earliest instance. “It’s my lover’s privilege,” the beautiful man had promised when they had both stated their terms at the start.
Yunho laughs bitterly. It seems such a privilege ceases when they are on a break.
He continues chugging down soju bombs, his recent painful realization gnawing him from inside-out, adding to his list of lost boyfriend privileges, his growing list of losses.
It burns.
His insides are burning.
He feels the intense burn in his throat, his oesophagus, his stomach as he continues to imbibe the transparent liquid fire.
But none of it compares to the burn in his heart.
The heart-wringing burn of love lost.
A cheerful jingle sounds, the happy tune mocking his dark mood as his phone screen lights up intermittently with each ring, the piece of plastic vibrating amongst green soju bottles haphazardly strewn all over his coffee table.
His feels sluggish, his mind completely lost in an alcohol-induced haze, but his heart desperately fights against the inertia as he rummages through the mess.
He finds it – oh thank god – and swipes at it hurriedly when he sees it’s him but he doesn’t hear his voice. The airy voice he’s dying to hear, the voice he misses so damn much.
He hears a sigh, and he’s so grateful to even hear anything from him again, so so grateful, that he breaks down and sobs loudly. On any other day, his bawling would have elicited tender kisses, comforting caresses, and mild teasing at how unmanly he was.
But tonight, just for once, he wants him to hear how pathetic and desperate he is, wants him to come back, wants him to know that his success will mean nothing without him.
He hears another heavy sigh on the phone before the breathy voice starts.
“I’ve made up my mind. Let’s meet to talk at 7 in the morning.”
He wipes his face and sucks his mucus up hurriedly and gathers himself to reply. “O-ok.” He croaks haltingly, pitifully, and the phone call ends abruptly, with nary a query of concern.
His stomach lurches, his heart constricting with fear. And he feels, no he knows, that it’s all slowly slipping away from him.
His love.
Four years later, the tall statuesque actor gazes pensively at the panoramic view from his luxurious penthouse. His lover would have squealed in delight at the floor-to-ceiling glass façade of the living room, and the spacious balcony adjoined to the master bedroom.
As he swirls the brown liquid in the glass held in his hand, he contemplates the different routes he could have taken in life. Had he not seen the meteoric rise to A-list stardom after a string of successful movies, he would not have even come close to enjoying the luxuries he could now summon with a simple snap of his finger, or a mere flashing of his platinum AMEX card. Or even better still, a mere show of his face.
And yet, as he tossed and turned in bed each night, sometimes alone, sometimes with company, he couldn’t control the overwhelming sense of emptiness he felt.
If he hadn’t hankered after the prestige being a top-tier celebrity held, maybe...
“Yunho-shii,” a cautious voice slices through the silence of the huge room. Yunho frowns at having his thoughts interrupted by the podgy man reflected in his glass window. He keeps his back turned away but tilts his head slightly, signaling for the man to go ahead and explain his presence on the only day he had off for the month. Everyone had been drilled with his “no-disturbance” policy on such rare days off; he had fired enough staff to prove his point.
Sensing the quiet waves of anger emanating from the strong presence before him, the man shifts his weight uncertainly between either foot, calculating how to break the news. He decides that straightforward is the way to go where the impatient man is concerned. He gulps-
“They’ve found him.”
A/N: OK here's something new. I'm just testing waters to see if there's interest. If I do proceed, it will probably be chaptered, but definitely shorter than Penance, and at most ten chapters in length. Or it may well turn out to be an actors! verse of sorts, but that's really too premature to say. No promises here since completing Penance is my top priority. Those who read Penance, do not worry, writing will resume by the end of next week. Also, I was thinking that this would be perfect with some graphics, but my resources are scant, so I shall not venture there for now. Thoughts?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-08 10:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-08 12:29 pm (UTC)Thanks for checking this new fic out (: