aroceu's ficyou remind me of a former love
by aroceu
Summary:
[Ohm/Nanon Ryden AU. IYKYK]
Notes:
This file was named "Sorry" in my gdrive.
When they broke up, it certainly felt like that: not a band parting due to creative differences, but a relationship that didn’t work out, and even through false promises of remaining friends, they knew they would never speak to each other again. Ohm didn’t realize it at first, until online he saw a part of an interview where Nanon said, “I didn’t think he’d keep the old band name.”
Ohm didn’t know what Nanon expected. Even though it was all Nanon’s words and voice on the first album, Ohm had started those vocal lessons for their second album, and they’d both written an equal number of tracks there. And people loved Ohm’s stage presence: part of their performance was shuffling around Ohm’s role between songs, whether it was on drums or bass or guitar or keyboard. Ohm played it all and had started to sing; Nanon had only been on guitar and sang.
But it was creative differences, not technicalities like this. Not Ohm telling himself to forget about it, and Chimon telling him that as well, and still singing Nanon’s songs during concerts. Nanon never said anything about that, not beyond the initial comment about the band name, as far as Ohm knew. Nanon made music with the other guys he’d made friends with since they became famous, off the alt-rock sound and more into pop and ballads instead. Ohm only listened to his first release before he decided he shouldn’t; their fanbase was divided anyway, split between if Nanon had abandoned BBS or if Ohm had betrayed Nanon. Their audiences were different, and Ohm didn’t have to be a part of Nanon’s audience.
If he thought about it for too long, there was an underlying anxiety, creeping like cigarette smoke, that so many people watched them fall apart, their relationship crumble in real time. He knew the fans that liked to pretend that he and Nanon were dating; that had never bothered him, when it was a joke for them. But now everyone was witness to know that there was no reason to think that anymore, because they weren’t; and even if Ohm ever wanted to explore that possibility, he couldn’t; that Nanon was so out of reach from him and that he was so out of reach from Nanon that all Ohm could do was write vague lyrics about it and not listen to Nanon’s music so he didn’t have to wonder if Nanon was doing the same.
Chimon had been Nanon’s friend first, and still was, even though he was in BBS with Ohm. “Do you have Nanon’s number?” he asked one day, after some years. They had all been invited to the same party by Love; Ohm might’ve caught a glimpse of Nanon at some point, but they didn’t have the chance to run into each other.
“No,” said Ohm, because he had changed phones three times since the split. “Why?”
Chimon shrugged. Then he said, “I could give it to you, if you’d like.” He didn’t say that Nanon missed him; he didn’t ask if Ohm missed Nanon.
Ohm swallowed. “Sure,” he said, and Chimon gave him Nanon’s contact information, and Ohm stared at it, and wondered if he should say anything at all. If Chimon would mention this to Nanon, or would do the same thing to Nanon, or already did, and Nanon had his number now. But if Nanon did, maybe he would’ve texted Ohm.
He typed out, hey, but didn’t send it, and forgot about it the next day.