“You’ve got the wrong number” – that was Yunho’s first lesson at SM. It was applied to all – all means all age groups: young or old, not too young and not too old; all genders: male or female, even anything in between; all including even his parents – during busy days, his best non-member friends – during concerts. “You make contact with necessary people, at necessary time” – like a broken tape, this warning had been repeated again and again ever since the first moment he signed the contract, sealed his fate. . . For a particularly obvious reason, it became his allergy. Yunho could feel his stomach well up, churning acid fluid all the way from his tummy through his throat. Sometime he could hold the urge to vomit, spit it out this whole hypocrite craps about stardom – that “sometime” only made sense when there was JaeJoong and his understanding eyes, Changmin and his light rebellious smirk, Junsu and his innocent face, Yuchun and his dry laugh somewhere behind his back. However it was not now because all of them weren’t here. Yunho threw up pure acid, on the grand party of his birthday, in SM.
“You’ve got the wrong number” – that was what Yunho was taught/ trained/ made/ forced to say. Maybe after 6 years of knowing too well what SM could do to harm people he loved, Yunho formed a bad/ basic/ immediate reaction whenever his phone received a “wrong” number. Wrong in the eyes of WHAT? WHO? And WHY? - he no longer cared. End of the day, as long as Junsu could reach out for his dream and performed the musical without any restriction, Changmin could give his all in the next coming drama – without being sued, JaeJoong could have sometime to break away, soul searching for inspiration without the chain around his neck, Yuchun could spend more time with his dogs and family without constant nags … He was very very willing to reject a call from 3 numbers he memorized by heart. “Who’s that, Yunho?” His manger would ask with scrutinizing eyes and he would shrug his shoulders – like an actor, and shake his head – like a pro saying politely, short and sweet: “Wrong numbers, huyng”. Wrong numbers? Wrong his ass! Each of these numbers that connected together to create the three combination of link between his and the other partners’ line was music to his ears. Since he could not dial – he could not prank call, just to hear their voice – he could not do anything with them without harming the owners, he whispered them like his own melody. His secret code, his assurance, his tiny bit of faith left hanging; that as long as the other end of the line would catch his S.O.S connection any time any day when all these craps are over… He would be very very willing to suffer, in silence.
9 p.m. and the bloody SM party for the ASIAN best boy band’s leader was not over yet. There were, of course flowers, cakes and beauty – guys and girls, talents from every field of the entertainment industry. He simply felt those happy birthday songs – though sung by professional singers, those greetings – from sunbae and dongseng were pure cacophony. They held no weight because they did not come from the heart. His mind trailed back to the depressing days – now he would call them the golden days of his youth: somewhere in the past, somewhere in an unknown apartment in Japan, in a cheap corner near dance studio, he was celebrating his birthday with Junsu and JaeJoong, then came Changmin and Yuchun. They did not have shit, not three level birthday cake – since when SM cared? – not even enough food for dinner – JaeJoong’s signature ramen defined delicious. He would trade all these craps – even that something expensive from that tiny little box branded Lee Soo Man’s special attention. For. Just. The. Presence. Of. His. Members.
That’s all.
At 11.30 when all hope almost shattered. He came back to the dorm in perfect loneliness. Changmin and his silence protect and the fact that he was losing weight as fast as Yuchun losing hairs on his forehead were depressing him to the core.
- - Yunho, happy birthday. – that was the very first time Changmin opened his mouth since the past… months out of his will.
They stood together in almost pitch dark, eyes on eyes, and Yunho suddenly found the strength to walk over and give Changmin a bear hug.
-- - Thanks, bro. Are you sure you are doing fine?
- - Not really, but I am sending a clear message to them-whom-I-would-not-bother-to-name. – Changmin smiled weakly – Huyng, you keep flipping your phone, checking it every moment today. What’s up?
- - … nothing much – Yunho smiled back – I was just waiting for a miracle.
- - I believe it will come, Yunnie. You deserve every bit of it.
And just like that, the 1.86m tall – going 1.90 something model’s eyes sparked like the shining Cassiopeia, before he retreated to his own room. Between the five of them and especially Changmina and Yunho, there were always gaps between words… silence understanding… non written principles of undeniable love. Just with that tiny spark in his brother’s eyes, Yunho knew one thing for sure, Changmin knew exactly what Yunho was. for.
That’s just enough.
11.59.40 pm, his phone rang its heart out a familiar tune… “Wasurenaide” And Yunho – from the bathroom, with lighting speed sprint out to the living room, naked to catch the birthday message from the very very, yes, very very very “wrong number”
“.:*Happy birthday, my lovely Yunnie ^^*:.! May happiness J, love <3 and success*** find you – wherever SM is hiding you from us. May this horrendous period of separation not break us apart but reminds us how precious our togetherness is. May all bashes and despicable lies not creep their filthy hands into our hearts but strengthen us and our trust in one another. May all those take-away food make you treasure my beautiful signature taste – cheapskate ramen ^o^ - don’t you dare skip meals, ok? With all my love <3 and theirs :x ”
Without looking at the number, simple counting those idiotic/ absurdly cute emocon, Yunho mouthed the name of the sender with all tenderness and longing. This number was not registered in his contact list – so indeed it was clearly a very very wrong number. However as Yunho stood naked in the living room smiling like an idiot, while Changmin stared blankly at you-know-what before screaming his unique “mirotic” scream, Yunho and of course Changmin knew one thing for sure…
It wasn’t a wrong number. It was, indeed, a very very right combination of 9 characters. And to hell with all SM’s craps, Yunho finally smiled wholeheartedly on his very very 25th birthday.
Hope till the end.
