stay a while?

Days like this had once been reserved for painting, locked away in the studio as the sky bellowed its approval over each brushstroke. Days like this meant the completion of a work that had been left unfinished, allowing motivation to come from the weeping sky. Days like this, and the work that went into them, had only been allowed interruption by one thing - your friends.

Changbin and Felix, the sole bearers of the right to break your focus whilst poring over a canvas. 

Days like these were once reserved for them, too. Movies that none of you really watched, talking over them about anything and everything. Laughter regardless of what was playing. Comfort regardless of the impending downpour.

What were days like this supposed to be now? When the thought of a brush in your hand was enough to bring about the ache in your heart that you couldn’t quite get used to, despite its frequency. The longer the monochrome sky loomed overhead, the longer the obvious answer hammered at your psyche.

They were the only thing left meant for days such as these.

You could call them. You could reach out in hopes that they hadn’t quite given up, despite your prior avoidance. It would be easy, just the tap of a few buttons on a screen. A child could do it, and yet you found yourself struggling to get past the menu.

Guilt has a funny way of complicating things.

Prior to the accident, and the subsequent lack of contact, reaching out to Changbin and Felix had been effortless - simply a part of your day-to-day routine, requiring little to no forethought. 

Now, however, you were terrified.

Your phone felt much heavier than it should have in your hands as you stared at the long-neglected group chat on your screen - the accompanying double digit number next to it taunting you with its reminder of just how long you’d been absent. Just how long you’d avoided speaking to the two.

How long was too long to ignore somebody before they’d stop considering you a friend?

Talking to them meant facing the possibility that your actions - or, rather, lack thereof - could have destroyed the only two friendships you’d ever cared to maintain. 

Until you actually spoke to them, you could live in ignorance. 

Until you actually spoke to them, you could assume they still wanted you around. 

Until you actually spoke to them, they were the only thing that hadn’t changed.

That just served to make the notion of finally reaching out absolutely petrifying.

These were the same boys you’d stay up laughing ‘til sunrise with, so deliriously tired that everything had become funnier than it should’ve been. The same boys that, rather than letting you fend for yourself, allowed you to follow them around like a duckling as they showed you the ins and outs of Seoul. The same boys who’d all but drag you from your studio when you’d forget to eat in the midst of a big project, bringing you to the diner for your favorite burger.

These were the same boys who brought new flowers to your bedside every week, even when you wouldn’t so much as look at them when they did.

You tapped the thread, swallowing both the lump in your throat and your pride as you read the messages you’d missed - maintaining your composure up until you got to the most recent two, sent only a day ago.

Felix: Honey, please talk to us? We’re really worried about you. Your mom said you’re home now, so maybe we could come by? I miss you a lot. 

Changbin: We could go to the diner if you want? I’ll pay even though it’s your turn. Nothing feels right without our favorite girl, okay? Love you.

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as you hiccuped, unsure if it was shame that you’d doubted they’d stick around or relief that you were wrong that finally broke the dam - but broke it did as hot tears blurred your vision. 

So many things had been ripped from you - violently, remorselessly, suddenly. Your future, your outlet, your joy, all gone in a terrible symphony of metal against metal. Your dreams snatched away by the malicious hand of fate, dangled above your head - just far enough away to taunt you, to remind you that it still existed, just not for you. Reminding you that everything had changed.

Everything, it seemed, except for Changbin and Felix.

Undeserving didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt. After all of this time, receiving nothing at all but radio silence from you, these two men had been contacting you - at least one of them, at least once a day - since the accident. 

You scrolled up, noticing that they’d never once gotten angry. They’d never once blamed you. They’d told you about their days, their lives, what happened at work, changes to the diner’s menu, and - always - how much you were missed. Not once did either of them condemn your behavior. Not once did either of them criticize you.

And you’d ignored them. Treated them as if they, and their unending support in spite of your withdrawal from them, didn’t matter. As if you didn’t need them. As if you were better off alone after suffering loss. 

All it took was shame weighing down your shoulders to remind you, though, that you weren’t - and never would be -  better off without Felix and Changbin.

How inexcusable it felt to have left them in the dark made your thumbs difficult to move. Two simple letters turned into near-impossible hurdles. The level of anger you’d expected to have to face from them had significantly raised your expectations. 

You had been ready to beg, to offer anything to make it up to them when the gloomy skies forced them into your mind. You were prepared to listen to lectures, to agree with them had they called you a bad friend.

You had been ready to face the possibility that they’d lost faith in you completely.

So, how were you supposed to just say, “Hi.” 

How could you simply address them casually as if you hadn’t neglected them? Hadn’t deserted them? Hadn’t forsaken them in the name of sorrow, shunned them for your own selfish pity?

How absolutely wrong it felt to simply greet them as if nothing had happened. How slimy it felt not to apologize a million times over, sinful not to grovel at their feet for forgiveness.

How heavy two little letters could become.

Yet, despite the painfully slow rate at which your trembling thumbs tapped against the glass, they were suddenly there. Sitting plainly, four lines and a dot - “Hi” - black against white. It waited, just as the long-neglected curves and lines of another word had - send - white against blue.

You suddenly understood why minimalism paintings were regarded in such a profound way, as everything inside of you screamed at the sight displayed on the screen. No longer did you question how a few strokes of a brush and a signature could justify more than a glance. Gone were your bitter thoughts over the success of such seemingly simple works. Four lines and a dot, black against white. Curves and lines, white against blue.

Hi. Send.

They were not as simple as they appeared on their own. Together, they were complex.

Complex enough to paralyze you.

Hi.You never used to find it this difficult, not once. The luxury most had when facing the unfortunate drifting from friends was not yours to have. You couldn’t simply exhale a plaintive sigh, asking forces unseen what had happened to what once was. It would be ridiculous to even entertain the notion. You knew what had happened and you bore the angry, red reminder of exactly what spurred the change.

The reminder that things would never be the same.

You never used to care for minimalism paintings. How could you have? They were just lines before. Just haphazard shapes pointlessly ruining a perfectly good canvas. Cruel irony, realizing the potential of the style now that your talent had been reduced to nothing more than fond memories that pained you to recall. Harsher still was the realization that the closest attempt you’d ever make at the style was staring at you from a screen dimming from disuse. A strange medium on stranger canvas, the credits for which would certainly raise brows: 

Eclipse, Hi, 2023, 6”x3” Thumbs on Glass. Your heart dropped at the use of your old habits from your days of gallery submissions. Despite barely qualifying as a piece of art, you’d gone ahead and planned out the label for the four lines and a dot, black against white. Despite your wounds, you’d forgotten the pain for just a moment - losing yourself in the meaning of curves and lines, white against blue. 

Forgetting, for a moment, that everything had changed.

Perhaps it was the surge of adrenaline that accompanied your panicked realization, maybe even a brief stroke of inspiration from your inadvertent first-attempt at a style you’d once hated. Those two little letters were no longer the heaviest thing on your heart - and, in comparison, were suddenly light. Before you could talk yourself out of sending those lines and dots off, you tapped the blue that housed curves and squiggles. Send.

The cartoonish whoosh carrying those two heavy little letters felt starkly out of place amidst the rolling of thunder and the thrumming pulse in your ears. Your legs bounced, anxious feet filling the silence with muffled taps as you waited. All you could do now was stare holes into the screen and hope. Hope that, despite your certainty, you were wrong. That everything hadn’t changed. 

That, if nothing else, this could be the same. They could be the same.

It felt like a form of purgatory, staring at a screen filled with tiny bubbles of even tinier lines, dots, and curves. Time seemed to me moving in strange ways - seconds felt like their own small eternities as you stared at your underwhelming message. 

You wondered if Felix and Changbin felt this way, too, during their admittedly much longer wait for a reply. Certainly they had. It would be difficult to imagine otherwise. If ten seconds felt this long to you, how long had these months felt for them? Your heart dropped at the thought, but rose quickly along with your pulse at the sight of three little dots moving at the bottom of the screen. 

Those three little dots disappeared and reappeared once, twice, and three times before a few sentences appeared on screen. You saw that it was Felix who’d answered first, but couldn’t bring yourself to read it for at least a minute. Although these two had constantly been checking in on you, despite your lack of answers, it was hard to completely let go of the possibility that they would be angry. Hurt.

They had a right to be, after all.

Once your nerves allowed you to skim the message, a melancholy calm washed over you. In typical form, Felix was perfectly understanding - and sweet - with his reply.

Felix: Oh my god, hi! How are you? I miss you so much.What you had done to deserve such an immediate and warm reaction to your return was beyond you, having fully expected at least a bit of resentment sent your way - yet there was none to be found. Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised though, seeing as neither Felix nor Changbin had ever given you a reason to doubt the depth of their care for you.

Recalling that brought the ache of guilt - having gone hand in hand with the thoughts of the two for months now - back to the surface. The shift back from your cautious optimism nearly knocked the wind out of you in its abruptness.

Guilt, and its funny way of complicating things, resulted in paranoia at Changbin’s lack of response. Maybe you were foolish to feel hopeful at the warm, brief, comfort of Felix’s kind response. The lack of discontent Felix expressed at your return held no guarantee to extend to Changbin. He could very well hold onto an indignation towards you for trying to simply slide back into their lives after so long of icing them out. What if he wouldn’t forgive you? What if, due to this, your closeness with Felix - in spite of his unabashed eagerness - too, would lessen? What if..? Changbin: Never disappear like that EVER again, stupid.You couldn’t even find it within yourself to feel a shred of irritation at the insult, a buoyancy you’d nearly forgotten was possible surrounding your heart as it thudded hard in your chest. You weren’t sure where to go from here. Of course, an apology was in order, but beyond that…you were clueless. It felt shallow to apologize over text, though, for something as grievous as the vanishing act as you’d performed. You stared at the screen for several minutes, thumbs trembling over the keyboard projected against the glass as you held the phone in both hands, before you finally decided. 

You: Come over, please?

You’d been spurred into making your appearance, after all, been spurred to finally make an appearance by memories of stormy days spent together. Hoping the nostalgia was hitting the duo, too, was all you could do - eyes glued to the dancing gray circles at the bottom of your screen. Felix: Not gonna lie, I was running to my car the second your name popped up on my screen sweetheart.

Changbin: I’m quite literally already on my way.Felix: Thought you didn’t text and drive? Your principles, or whatever.Changbin: These circumstances allow exception.Changbin: And, for the millionth time, it’s JUTDAE.The ghost of a smile graced your lips as you witnessed their usual banter unfold - something you hadn’t realized you’d missed in your numbness. The shape of your lips felt foreign, though not uncomfortable, on your face. Your lack of reply was largely attributed to knowing Changbin would likely look away from the road to read whatever you would contribute to the conversation - but, it would be a lie to say that was the sole reason. Their imminent arrival gave you an unpleasant reminder that, aside from your sessions with Hyunjin, you hadn’t left the house - and cleanliness wasn’t typically associated with apathy.

From the couch alone, the mess was impossible not to notice. A lump of unwashed laundry could be seen from the cracked doorway of your bathroom, left there despite the hamper being in your bedroom one door down. The coffee table was littered with unwashed dishes, wrappers, and empty plastic bottles, and the blankets that you’d typically kept folded neatly were all strewn about - discarded on the floor or left on whichever piece of furniture you’d decided to brood on that day. 

You rarely went into your room when the boys were around, so you weren’t too concerned about the clothes and items littering the room’s floor and your bed. Your studio was, for obvious reasons, another room you didn't need to worry about...but you didn’t even want to think about the mess in the kitchen. You knew for a fact you hadn’t bothered soaking - let alone washing - any pots or pans you’d used. The murky dishwater in the sink - clouded by the few dishes you had picked up - wasn’t forgotten either. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing empty water bottles from the coffee table in front of you - stumbling in your rush to get them into the recycling bin before returning swiftly to the living room to gather the dishes you’d left behind in your indifference. You set them on the counter, having to use a bit of force to squeeze them into an open space far too small initially, before plunging your hand into the sink with a grimace and pulling the plug - draining the stagnant water from days ago. 

With the plug replaced, soap added, and the faucet turned on at a scalding temperature, you hurriedly put the dirty dishes in - grabbing the pots and pans to fill with a bit of water to let them soak in hopes that it appeared as though you weren’t living the way you had been for so long. A whispered curse left your lips as you abandoned the still-filling sink to make your way towards the bathroom - pulling the large pile of clothes into your arms with a soft grunt before trudging into your bedroom and tossing them into the hamper.

You had just gathered the wrappers from the table and thrown them away, on your way to pick up the blankets when you heard a rhythmic knock on the front door - there was no mistaking the one-three-one pattern as Changbin and Felix’s signature, seeing as you’d jointly decided as a group that this was how you’d all make it apparent who was visiting in case of a spontaneous drop-in.

Elation and panic weren’t necessarily an easy pair of emotions to blend together, but that didn’t stop your instant stiffening as your head spun to stare at the rich mahogany - knowing that, for what felt like the first time after an eternity, your friends had arrived.

Kicking blankets towards the corner as you crossed the room hurriedly, you turned the deadbolt and grabbed the knob. Goosebumps covered your arms as you held the cold metal in your hands for a moment - though you’d be remiss to blame it all on the chill - hesitating before turning it and pulling it open. “Hey,” you began before the door was even fully open, your anxiety apparent in the way your voice quavered on such a simple word, “Thanks for coming, I know that–” You were cut off by an abrupt, tightly set pair of arms wrapping around your body as Changbin, standing in front of Felix, crossed the threshold in one long and impatient stride. He didn’t say a word, simply crushing you in what could’ve easily been mistaken as a restraining hold rather than a hug. He was soon joined by Felix, who approached much more slowly and opted to hug you from the side - enveloping you between himself and Changbin with a sniffle that, despite being unable to see his face, made you absolutely certain he was crying.

“Don’t you ever disappear on us like that again,” Changbin muttered against the top of your head as he placed a chaste peck atop your unbrushed tresses, earning a nod felt against your shoulder as Felix silently agreed, likely afraid to speak considering his likelihood to sob the moment he made a sound.

The guilt you’d grown so accustomed to when you’d think about the two of them lurched in your stomach at the way relief had audibly invaded what you were sure Changbin had intended to be a scolding tone.

“I’m sorry…” you choked out, joining Felix in crying as you spoke the only words you could. The only words that felt proper, considering the circumstances. The only words appropriate after snubbing the only people with the potential to understand you during your darkest time.

“Changbin, don’t make them cry!” Felix reprimanded with a sniffle, squeezing you tighter as he shot his best attempt at a glare Changbin’s way.

“I would’ve cried anyway,” it was true, your response. If the guilt on its own wouldn’t have been enough to rouse your emotions, the relief that they came after all this time was.

Felix nodded, but sent Changbin one last playful glare as you were guided inside, making your way to the sofa in tandem, settling in to wait out the storms; raging outside and in your mind.

As the crying ceased on both Felix’s and your end, he and Changbin had questions. You’d been absent from their lives for so long, after all. It was only natural they wanted some answers.

You told them.. You told them every unpretty detail.

You told them about your hand, and how despite the effort you made in rehabilitation that it would never be the same. 

You told them about the scar, and how sometimes it would hurt as if to taunt you, to remind you as soon as you thought that you were maybe, possibly okay that you would never be again. 

You told them about your solitude, surrounded by the company of dirty dishes and overfilled hampers. 

You told them about your mother, and the ultimatum she gave you regarding the way you were living. 

You told them about Hyunjin, the beautiful boy you were charged with transferring the remaining shreds of the dream you’d always dreamed to.

You told them how, despite your disdain, teaching Hyunjin forced you to make an effort to be human again. To be alive. To wash clothes and wear them clean after taking a shower. To leave your apartment.

You told them how, in a way, it was because of Hyunjin that you’d finally broken your silence today. How wrong it felt to be better for a stranger when the two of them had been waiting for so long.

You told them how deeply, painfully sorry you were.

And, when they told you not to apologize and that they were never going to leave you behind, asking if you’d go shopping with them tomorrow?

You told them nothing would make you happier.

When the two of them left, you felt lighter. As though a great burden had been lifted from your shoulders…or, more accurately, distributed between three sets rather than being carried by you alone.

Changbin and Felix had only been gone for about an hour when the buzz of your phone alerted you to a message from an unfamiliar number.

???: Hey! I hope this isn’t a bad time. Ms. Park gave me your number!

???: This is Hyunjin, by the way.

You knew now who the messages were coming from, though more questions were acquired than answers. 

You typed and deleted several responses ranging from, “What do you want?” which you decided seemed a bit too rude, and “Why are you contacting me?” which seemed the same, only stiffer. You finally decided on a tried and true, much more casual:

You: What’s up?

It took only a few seconds for him to respond with a simple question that - from any other mentor - would seem reasonable. Yet your heart, once lightened by the reunion with your friends, seemed to gain several pounds as it plummeted uncomfortably into your stomach.

Hyunjin: Would you be willing to come with me to the art supply store? I’m new to oils and really don’t want to grab the wrong brushes.

Technically speaking, you were perfectly capable and more than qualified to fulfill this task. In fact, at risk of sounding vain, you may be one of the best people to help him out. If he’d have asked you prior to the accident, you’d have jumped on the opportunity to help an aspiring artist purchase their first set of oil-appropriate brushes.

Under different circumstances, you’d have found great joy - fun even - in browsing an art store with someone who wanted to be there. You’d often found yourself wishing for exactly that when you’d notice the bored expressions on Felix and Changbin’s faces on the rare occasions that you’d managed to convince them to tag along. 

This, however, was not under those circumstances.

You were not excited. You were not looking forward to it. You would never have wished for this in a million years.

And, despite the fact that Changbin and Felix were; you were not the same.

You debated ghosting him, acting as if you’d perhaps dozed off or set your phone down and lost track of time. You considered telling him to ask the clerk for help instead, despite knowing that they probably knew the bare minimum and were only working there for a paycheck, not passion, and would likely encourage him to buy the most expensive option rather than the most effective. You even considered simply saying, “No.”

You likely would have gone with any of these options had it not been for the way he’d grown on you. 

Perhaps it was his apologetic nature during last week’s lesson, when you’d displayed an unexpected level of emotion following his innocent query regarding you painting. 

Or perhaps it was the ease with which he offered to drop the subject. 

Maybe it could even have a little bit to do with the warmth of his work, and the way it made you feel something other than empty or angry - however briefly, before jealousy took over - for the first time since the accident.

Regardless of why, you did not, in fact, choose any of your reflexive responses. Instead, you agreed, telling him to meet you in about an hour, cleverly choosing a shop other than the one you were once a regular at despite the further distance. 

You simply couldn’t handle the barrage of questions Hyunjin would likely have should you be recognized; should it come to light that you had lied to him. That you were, in fact, a painter once.

Once.

The reminder, though self-inflicted, still stung as you gathered your bag and jacket, a pit in your gut still present even as you locked up and made your way to the roadside to hail a taxi. The drive did little to remedy it either, and you found yourself unable to match the smile you were greeted with as Hyunjin spotted you exiting the cab.

“Hey! Thanks again for agreeing even though it was last minute!” he called warmly, jogging up to meet you halfway.

You simply nodded, adjusting the bag over your shoulder and gesturing towards the shop in an attempt to occupy him with something other than expressing his thanks.

There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that if it weren’t for the way the brightness of his smile only seemed to accentuate the shadows of your envy, allowing it to grow and fester despite your intentions to be a good teacher to him.

Luckily, he took the hint without breaking stride, walking a few paces ahead of you as you entered the shop. You watched as he paused, eyes wide and curious, until he smiled once more upon spotting the aisle labeled brushes. You followed along at your same slow pace even as he rushed ahead towards it, finding him with two different sets in each hand as you caught up to him.

Reading the furrow of his brow as an internal debate over which was better, you spoke up from behind him, “Neither of those are what you want.”

He jumped, as if the few second gap between your arrivals in this aisle were enough to startle him. It was endearing, in a way, and you couldn’t help but let out the tiniest laugh in the form of a dry scoff.

Setting both sets down, Hyunjin chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head as he turned to face you, “Which ones then?” he asked, choosing not to acknowledge his brief moment of fright as he gestured with a grand sweeping motion to the display racks.

“Let’s see,” you murmured back to him, letting him off without any teasing, instead taking a few strides forward with your eyes on the rack and skimming each set for a specific logo - a simple white outline of a lily - belonging to the brand you preferred.

Used to prefer.

A pause imperceptible to anyone but yourself made itself in your stride, but you focused on the task at hand. You could handle this. It was just picking out brushes. It wasn’t a taunt from the universe, despite the way it felt. It wasn’t a cruel joke. It was just picking out brushes.

So why was your heart racing like you were about to get thrown into a pit of lions?

Swallowing your own nerves, you reached out to sift through the rack, finally producing the same set of brushes you’d once started with on your own journey, before it had been cut short, and handed it over to Hyunjin.

“These are gonna be your best bet,” you supplied, hoping he’d leave it at that.

Whether it was luck or a bit of intuition on Hyunjin’s part, he did just that.

“Thanks, I would’ve been staring at the rack like a fool for at least twenty minutes if not for you,” he said with a quiet laugh, tucking the set under his arm.

“Think of how many people could have startled you in that time,” you gave an attempt to banter, at which his quiet laughter exploded into a bright, vibrant cackle - out of place both from someone as beautiful as he was, and someplace as quiet as this.

He quickly smacked his hand over his mouth, eyes widening as he continued to snicker, “Since when are you funny?” he asked between subdued snorts.

“There’s more to me than you know.”

What a double-edged answer, considering all that you were actively hiding from him.

“Besides,” you began, keen to distract your mind from the discomfort of dwelling on secrets you kept from Hyunjin, “It wasn’t really that funny.”

A shake of his head prefaced the assurance you hadn’t asked for, “Trust me, I don’t laugh like that often! In fact, believe it or not, I try not to be noisy in quiet, public spaces.”

“Oh, is that so?” you responded with a laugh that felt foreign falling from your lips, shaking your head, “In that case, I will do my utmost to keep my hilarity to a minimum.”

Hyunjin exhaled a small snort from his nose, giving an over-dramatic bow - complete with a flourish - before speaking in an deliberately ostentatious tone, “I am most grateful.”

You shook your head, shoving his arm playfully to spur him back into standing, “Ready to check out?” you asked him, hoping the answer was yes. You wanted - no, needed - to leave. 

It wasn’t Hyunjin, by any means. If it were anything but art supplies, you’d actually have quite enjoyed this outing. Hyunjin was good company, once you’d given him a chance. You’d smiled more today than you had in a long while, your cheeks hurting from the lack of use prefacing today.

Hyunjin was warm, bright like the sun, perfectly good company. He was funny without being a tryhard. He was unabashed in his individuality, from the way he bantered to the guffaw you could still hear echoing in your mind.

It definitely wasn’t Hyunjin.

Despite not being your old favorite, being inside of a supply shop still gave you an unwelcome feeling of nostalgia. The scent was the same, regardless of what shop you went to, and you could swear the once-comforting aroma was now a foul stench, something you’d likely shower away when you got home.

“Just about, I need a couple canvases and a few tubes of paint,” he answered absently, blissfully unaware of just how dire of straits you were in.

You nodded, waving him away playfully with your hand in hopes he’d gather what he needed quickly, walking up the aisle to wait near the register for him. You weren’t about to abandon him here, now that the job of finding brushes he’d spontaneously tasked you with was complete. You weren’t that desperate.

It was close, though.

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter. A scoff was earned from the cashier, but you were more than used to ignoring people after your recent experience, allowing you to stay put without so much as an apologetic glance. 

You shuffled, growing antsier with every moment you waited for Hyunjin. You weren’t exactly spatially aware, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a clatter following the brushing of your bag against the countertop.

“Sorry,” you muttered, ignoring the way the cashier rolled their eyes at you as you bent down to pick up what had fallen. 

It was obvious that it was a set of brushes, considering the shape of the package. As you lifted it, something possessed you; whether it be curiosity or masochism, you turned the set around in your hands to get a good look at it.

The first thing you noticed was a simple white lily.

What were the odds? Of anything you could’ve accidentally bumped, it just had to be something you were intimately familiar with? You shook your head, fighting the urge to roll your eyes before you realized that perhaps you weren’t as familiar with this set as you once thought.

Next to the logo was a small, ornate ‘7.’ The last you knew, there were only six sets from this brand. 

For the briefest moment, excitement coursed through your veins. Your eyes lit up, your lips twitched in anticipation of a smile. This brand always had such great improvements with every set they released, and you weren’t sure they’d ever release a new one. You owned all six prior sets, and wouldn’t part with them for anything in the world. 

And then it hit you.

And the smile that had begun forming dropped.

And you felt sick to your stomach.

Because you would not use these brushes. You no longer used the other six sets.

You would never feel the difference in the improved handle shape, how comfortable it would feel in your hand with the carefully formed grooves.

You wouldn’t buy them without a second thought, as you once would’ve. You wouldn’t rush home to lock yourself away until someone came to check on you; because you wouldn’t need checked on, considering you’d never get so sucked into painting that you’d forget the outside world ever again.

“Hey! Sorry I took so long!” Hyunjin chirped from behind you, making you jerk your head up towards him.

“Oh, uh, no problem,” you managed, though you sounded more robotic than you’d intended. You set the brushes down on the counter, quickly enough that you nearly knocked over the rest of the display, “I’m gonna wait outside, okay?” 

Confusion furrowed the man’s brow as he tilted his head, inquisitive gaze locked on you as though he could find the answers he sought in your face if he stared long enough, “Uh…sure. You okay?”

Damn him. 

Damn his earnest concern and his functional fucking hands. 

Damn his too-loud laugh and his ability to get so lost comparing sets of brushes that your return after only a few seconds startled him.

Damn his drive to improve, damn the way he made you smile, and damn the universe for bringing him into your life now; when you’d lost the ability to fully appreciate him.

“I’m fine,” you lied with a forced smile, nodding your head quickly, “Just need some air.”

“Oh…sure,” Hyunjin answered slowly, returning the smile - though the furrowed brows remained, betraying the concern he still felt. “I’ll try to be quick.”

“Take your time,” you called over your shoulder, having already been walking as fast as was socially acceptable indoors the moment you’d heard the first syllable of a positive response. 

Your chest felt tight, your heart in a vice as you gritted your teeth, forcing air into your lungs in short little gasps. The doors seemed so far, and your steps felt too slow…but you did eventually make it outside, sitting down on a bench as you ran a hand through your hair and stared up at the sky, focusing on getting your breath under control before Hyunjin was finished.

God forbid you give him yet another reason to worry. It was ironic that, despite becoming his mentor to avoid such a fate, you didn’t doubt he may be wondering if you should be institutionalized considering your proclivity to lose your composure around him.

By the time he returned, you were as composed as you’d get considering the thoughts swirling tumultuously in your mind. A tight lipped smile from your end was returned brightly by Hyunjin, all traces of furrowed brows and concern completely wiped from his now elated face.

“I didn’t take too long, did I?” he asked as you rose from the bench. 

“Not at all,” you shook your head as you spoke, silently grateful that he’d taken as long as he had. You didn’t want to imagine how he’d look right now if you’d still been struggling to breathe upon his return.

“That’s a relief,” his voice sounded…excited somehow. Like a child eager for praise - his eyes wide and bright and his lips still upturned happily. You wondered what, exactly, had brought him into this state of mind…though you didn’t need to wait long.

He reached into the white paper bag, his slender fingers grabbing something out and lifting it.

The first thing you saw; a white lily. The second; the number ‘7.’

Your stomach sank. Was this a joke? You already struggled to teach him, considering his ability to do what you no longer could…and now he was going to use the brushes you never would? Internally, you wondered if rage or sadness would  be more appropriate - despite the answer being neither, considering he didn’t know any better.

Damn him.

Damn his –

“I noticed you were looking at these when I came up to check out,” he began, cutting off your internal rant, and earning a disconcerted tilt of the head from you.

“And?” you asked, a bit too sharply to be towards someone who was simply making conversation. 

It isn’t his fault, don’t be a dick, you reminded yourself, gritting your teeth.

“And,” he drew out the word, treating your venom as though it was nothing more than a continuation of the simple banter you’d shared in the brush aisle, “I wanted to thank you for all of your help so far, but you don’t share much.” He paused, holding the set out towards you.

No. 

Oh, please no.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you realized…he didn’t buy them for his own use. He got them for you. 

He was giving you the very object that had spurred your hasty retreat from the shop in the first place. 

Damn him. 

Damn him and the way his eyes bored into yours, waiting for a response besides a dumbfounded drop of your jaw.

Damn him and the way that, despite thinking he had done something good, he was just like a housecat. Bringing you a dead rat, very proud and completely unaware that you did not want to touch it. 

Waiting for praise. For gratitude.

He must have noticed your silence, because his bright smile turned into more of a shy, half-upturned grin, his voice softer and filled with significantly less glee.

“It’s just…You looked excited for a second when you picked them up, so I figured they must be important, even though you said you didn’t paint,” he paused to laugh under his breath…but not like he had earlier. This was not joyful, it reeked of self-deprecation and embarrassment.

Damn him and his ability to make you feel guilty for the feelings you cannot control.

“Shit, I’m sorry–” you wondered for a moment why he was apologizing for such a kind gesture, but got your answer in the form of wetness becoming apparent on your cheeks. He reached out with his sleeve, wiping at the tears, looking and sounding so very panicked. 

You shook your head, ignoring the comfort his hands brushing away your sadness brought, and wondered if he even knew exactly what he was apologizing for. Surely he knows he did nothing wrong…before the accident, you would’ve likely crushed him in a hug upon being given the exact gift that had you in shambles now.

“It’s stupid, you told me you didn’t paint,” he sighed deeply, looking down at you with that same worried, furrowed brow he’d shown inside. He lowered his hand from your face - his perfectly functional, unscarred hand - and rummaged through the bag with it, “I should’ve asked if you wanted them, I’m sorry.” 

You couldn’t do anything other than shake your head, the ability to form words gone as you struggled to even garner a single cohesive thought.

“I’m sure I can bring them back, I kept the receipt–”

“No!”

You surprised yourself with the quickness with which you declined his offer to rid you of this accidental reminder of what you’d lost; quicker still had you reached out and snatched the set from his hands, holding it tightly to your chest.

“No..?” Hyunjin asked, the slightest hint of relief creeping into his voice - so subtle and tentative. So ready to return the brushes and apologize again at the first sign of discontent.

You were just as surprised as he was, unsure of what possessed you to decline the offer that would remove the unwelcome reminder. 

Maybe it was the pride with which he’d presented them to you, or a desire to wipe the worry from his expression. 

Or, maybe it was simply a dream refusing to die.

“No,” you repeated, shaking your head and looking up at him. Tears no longer fell, and you sniffled quietly as you felt your lips pull up into the smallest of smiles.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, as if prepared at any time to take the brushes back to the cashier. You gave him a nod and tucked the brushes away in your bag.

“Absolutely.”

Hyunjin nodded, and as per usual didn’t press any further. Hyunjin was good about that, aside from your initial meeting. It was easy to assume he’d learned not to delve too deep into your psyche following the abrupt exit you’d made.

The only question he’d asked after your acceptance of the brushes was if you’d like to share a cab, to which you agreed, standing at his side as he hailed the first one to come by.

You watched out the window as the cityscape blurred by, keeping your gaze on the window. It was easy to get lost in your own mind with the drone of the tires on asphalt serving as white noise, easily lulling you into tangential thought. 

Perhaps there was more about Hyunjin that you envied, aside from his ability to paint. To dream.

Everything seemed to roll right off of him. The moments you’d seen him concerned were so easily put behind him. He didn’t dwell. He didn’t linger. He moved forward, unstoppable despite the way you were effectively acting as a roadblock.

He kept showing up to lessons following the very first one, in which you could readily admit you did not make the best first impression.

You wished you could do that, move forward without looking back. If it were a skill to be taught, maybe you could ask Hyunjin for lessons in exchange for the ones you gave him.

With that thought in your mind, you finally spoke into the silence of the backseat.

“What would you do if you woke up tomorrow and couldn’t paint?”

You heard Hyunjin rustle across the seat, his breath coming out in an extended sigh as he contemplated how to answer. You didn’t need to tell him what happened to you in order to pick his brain, you’d realized.

“You mean like…if I forgot how to?” he asked, his tone riddled with confusion.

“No,” you murmured, turning your gaze from the window to look at him, “I mean…If something happened to make you lose your ability.”

Hyunjin hummed, looking up at the roof of the cab as he rubbed his chin in thought, his head tilted back against the headrest.

You couldn’t help but wish you had the luxury of considering this situation as rhetorical.

Finally speaking up as the vehicle came to a stop in front of your apartment, Hyunjin let his head loll over without lifting to look at you, “I wouldn’t accept that,” he answered firmly, “I’d keep trying until I could again.”

You didn’t realize you were laughing until the sound came out of your mouth, earning a befuddled look from your companion, his lower lip jutting out slightly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, looking almost offended, as though there were some inside joke he desperately wanted to understand but wouldn’t get an explanation to.

You simply shook your head, waving a hand and stopping your laughter with a sigh, “Nothing, nothing at all,” you mused, lips still upturned in amusement as you got out of the cab, closing the door and walking up the steps to your apartment, turning around at the door to wave goodbye.

Still appearing painfully puzzled, Hyunjin lifted his hand to wave back. Though, considering the slowness of the action, it could hardly be considered such.

As the cab pulled away, you made your way inside. Locking the door and removing your shoes, you picked up the brushes and set them down on the coffee table, a wistful smile on your lips as one thought echoed over and over in your mind.

Days like this had once been reserved for painting, locked away in the studio as the sky bellowed its approval over each brushstroke. Days like this meant the completion of a work that had been left unfinished, allowing motivation to come from the weeping sky. Days like this, and the work that went into them, had only been allowed interruption by one thing - your friends.

Changbin and Felix, the sole bearers of the right to break your focus whilst poring over a canvas. 

Days like these were once reserved for them, too. Movies that none of you really watched, talking over them about anything and everything. Laughter regardless of what was playing. Comfort regardless of the impending downpour.

What were days like this supposed to be now? When the thought of a brush in your hand was enough to bring about the ache in your heart that you couldn’t quite get used to, despite its frequency. The longer the monochrome sky loomed overhead, the longer the obvious answer hammered at your psyche.

They were the only thing left meant for days such as these.

You could call them. You could reach out in hopes that they hadn’t quite given up, despite your prior avoidance. It would be easy, just the tap of a few buttons on a screen. A child could do it, and yet you found yourself struggling to get past the menu.

Guilt has a funny way of complicating things.

Prior to the accident, and the subsequent lack of contact, reaching out to Changbin and Felix had been effortless - simply a part of your day-to-day routine, requiring little to no forethought. 

Now, however, you were terrified.

Your phone felt much heavier than it should have in your hands as you stared at the long-neglected group chat on your screen - the accompanying double digit number next to it taunting you with its reminder of just how long you’d been absent. Just how long you’d avoided speaking to the two.

How long was too long to ignore somebody before they’d stop considering you a friend?

Talking to them meant facing the possibility that your actions - or, rather, lack thereof - could have destroyed the only two friendships you’d ever cared to maintain. 

Until you actually spoke to them, you could live in ignorance. 

Until you actually spoke to them, you could assume they still wanted you around. 

Until you actually spoke to them, they were the only thing that hadn’t changed.

That just served to make the notion of finally reaching out absolutely petrifying.

These were the same boys you’d stay up laughing ‘til sunrise with, so deliriously tired that everything had become funnier than it should’ve been. The same boys that, rather than letting you fend for yourself, allowed you to follow them around like a duckling as they showed you the ins and outs of Seoul. The same boys who’d all but drag you from your studio when you’d forget to eat in the midst of a big project, bringing you to the diner for your favorite burger.

These were the same boys who brought new flowers to your bedside every week, even when you wouldn’t so much as look at them when they did.

You tapped the thread, swallowing both the lump in your throat and your pride as you read the messages you’d missed - maintaining your composure up until you got to the most recent two, sent only a day ago.

Felix: Honey, please talk to us? We’re really worried about you. Your mom said you’re home now, so maybe we could come by? I miss you a lot. 

Changbin: We could go to the diner if you want? I’ll pay even though it’s your turn. Nothing feels right without our favorite girl, okay? Love you.

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as you hiccuped, unsure if it was shame that you’d doubted they’d stick around or relief that you were wrong that finally broke the dam - but broke it did as hot tears blurred your vision. 

So many things had been ripped from you - violently, remorselessly, suddenly. Your future, your outlet, your joy, all gone in a terrible symphony of metal against metal. Your dreams snatched away by the malicious hand of fate, dangled above your head - just far enough away to taunt you, to remind you that it still existed, just not for you. Reminding you that everything had changed.

Everything, it seemed, except for Changbin and Felix.

Undeserving didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt. After all of this time, receiving nothing at all but radio silence from you, these two men had been contacting you - at least one of them, at least once a day - since the accident. 

You scrolled up, noticing that they’d never once gotten angry. They’d never once blamed you. They’d told you about their days, their lives, what happened at work, changes to the diner’s menu, and - always - how much you were missed. Not once did either of them condemn your behavior. Not once did either of them criticize you.

And you’d ignored them. Treated them as if they, and their unending support in spite of your withdrawal from them, didn’t matter. As if you didn’t need them. As if you were better off alone after suffering loss. 

All it took was shame weighing down your shoulders to remind you, though, that you weren’t - and never would be -  better off without Felix and Changbin.

How inexcusable it felt to have left them in the dark made your thumbs difficult to move. Two simple letters turned into near-impossible hurdles. The level of anger you’d expected to have to face from them had significantly raised your expectations. 

You had been ready to beg, to offer anything to make it up to them when the gloomy skies forced them into your mind. You were prepared to listen to lectures, to agree with them had they called you a bad friend.

You had been ready to face the possibility that they’d lost faith in you completely.

So, how were you supposed to just say, “Hi.” 

How could you simply address them casually as if you hadn’t neglected them? Hadn’t deserted them? Hadn’t forsaken them in the name of sorrow, shunned them for your own selfish pity?

How absolutely wrong it felt to simply greet them as if nothing had happened. How slimy it felt not to apologize a million times over, sinful not to grovel at their feet for forgiveness.

How heavy two little letters could become.

Yet, despite the painfully slow rate at which your trembling thumbs tapped against the glass, they were suddenly there. Sitting plainly, four lines and a dot - “Hi” - black against white. It waited, just as the long-neglected curves and lines of another word had - send - white against blue.

You suddenly understood why minimalism paintings were regarded in such a profound way, as everything inside of you screamed at the sight displayed on the screen. No longer did you question how a few strokes of a brush and a signature could justify more than a glance. Gone were your bitter thoughts over the success of such seemingly simple works. Four lines and a dot, black against white. Curves and lines, white against blue.

Hi. Send.

They were not as simple as they appeared on their own. Together, they were complex.

Complex enough to paralyze you.

Hi.You never used to find it this difficult, not once. The luxury most had when facing the unfortunate drifting from friends was not yours to have. You couldn’t simply exhale a plaintive sigh, asking forces unseen what had happened to what once was. It would be ridiculous to even entertain the notion. You knew what had happened and you bore the angry, red reminder of exactly what spurred the change.

The reminder that things would never be the same.

You never used to care for minimalism paintings. How could you have? They were just lines before. Just haphazard shapes pointlessly ruining a perfectly good canvas. Cruel irony, realizing the potential of the style now that your talent had been reduced to nothing more than fond memories that pained you to recall. Harsher still was the realization that the closest attempt you’d ever make at the style was staring at you from a screen dimming from disuse. A strange medium on stranger canvas, the credits for which would certainly raise brows: 

Eclipse, Hi, 2023, 6”x3” Thumbs on Glass. Your heart dropped at the use of your old habits from your days of gallery submissions. Despite barely qualifying as a piece of art, you’d gone ahead and planned out the label for the four lines and a dot, black against white. Despite your wounds, you’d forgotten the pain for just a moment - losing yourself in the meaning of curves and lines, white against blue. 

Forgetting, for a moment, that everything had changed.

Perhaps it was the surge of adrenaline that accompanied your panicked realization, maybe even a brief stroke of inspiration from your inadvertent first-attempt at a style you’d once hated. Those two little letters were no longer the heaviest thing on your heart - and, in comparison, were suddenly light. Before you could talk yourself out of sending those lines and dots off, you tapped the blue that housed curves and squiggles. Send.

The cartoonish whoosh carrying those two heavy little letters felt starkly out of place amidst the rolling of thunder and the thrumming pulse in your ears. Your legs bounced, anxious feet filling the silence with muffled taps as you waited. All you could do now was stare holes into the screen and hope. Hope that, despite your certainty, you were wrong. That everything hadn’t changed. 

That, if nothing else, this could be the same. They could be the same.

It felt like a form of purgatory, staring at a screen filled with tiny bubbles of even tinier lines, dots, and curves. Time seemed to me moving in strange ways - seconds felt like their own small eternities as you stared at your underwhelming message. 

You wondered if Felix and Changbin felt this way, too, during their admittedly much longer wait for a reply. Certainly they had. It would be difficult to imagine otherwise. If ten seconds felt this long to you, how long had these months felt for them? Your heart dropped at the thought, but rose quickly along with your pulse at the sight of three little dots moving at the bottom of the screen. 

Those three little dots disappeared and reappeared once, twice, and three times before a few sentences appeared on screen. You saw that it was Felix who’d answered first, but couldn’t bring yourself to read it for at least a minute. Although these two had constantly been checking in on you, despite your lack of answers, it was hard to completely let go of the possibility that they would be angry. Hurt.

They had a right to be, after all.

Once your nerves allowed you to skim the message, a melancholy calm washed over you. In typical form, Felix was perfectly understanding - and sweet - with his reply.

Felix: Oh my god, hi! How are you? I miss you so much.What you had done to deserve such an immediate and warm reaction to your return was beyond you, having fully expected at least a bit of resentment sent your way - yet there was none to be found. Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised though, seeing as neither Felix nor Changbin had ever given you a reason to doubt the depth of their care for you.

Recalling that brought the ache of guilt - having gone hand in hand with the thoughts of the two for months now - back to the surface. The shift back from your cautious optimism nearly knocked the wind out of you in its abruptness.

Guilt, and its funny way of complicating things, resulted in paranoia at Changbin’s lack of response. Maybe you were foolish to feel hopeful at the warm, brief, comfort of Felix’s kind response. The lack of discontent Felix expressed at your return held no guarantee to extend to Changbin. He could very well hold onto an indignation towards you for trying to simply slide back into their lives after so long of icing them out. What if he wouldn’t forgive you? What if, due to this, your closeness with Felix - in spite of his unabashed eagerness - too, would lessen? What if..? Changbin: Never disappear like that EVER again, stupid.You couldn’t even find it within yourself to feel a shred of irritation at the insult, a buoyancy you’d nearly forgotten was possible surrounding your heart as it thudded hard in your chest. You weren’t sure where to go from here. Of course, an apology was in order, but beyond that…you were clueless. It felt shallow to apologize over text, though, for something as grievous as the vanishing act as you’d performed. You stared at the screen for several minutes, thumbs trembling over the keyboard projected against the glass as you held the phone in both hands, before you finally decided. 

You: Come over, please?

You’d been spurred into making your appearance, after all, been spurred to finally make an appearance by memories of stormy days spent together. Hoping the nostalgia was hitting the duo, too, was all you could do - eyes glued to the dancing gray circles at the bottom of your screen. Felix: Not gonna lie, I was running to my car the second your name popped up on my screen sweetheart.

Changbin: I’m quite literally already on my way.Felix: Thought you didn’t text and drive? Your principles, or whatever.Changbin: These circumstances allow exception.Changbin: And, for the millionth time, it’s JUTDAE.The ghost of a smile graced your lips as you witnessed their usual banter unfold - something you hadn’t realized you’d missed in your numbness. The shape of your lips felt foreign, though not uncomfortable, on your face. Your lack of reply was largely attributed to knowing Changbin would likely look away from the road to read whatever you would contribute to the conversation - but, it would be a lie to say that was the sole reason. Their imminent arrival gave you an unpleasant reminder that, aside from your sessions with Hyunjin, you hadn’t left the house - and cleanliness wasn’t typically associated with apathy.

From the couch alone, the mess was impossible not to notice. A lump of unwashed laundry could be seen from the cracked doorway of your bathroom, left there despite the hamper being in your bedroom one door down. The coffee table was littered with unwashed dishes, wrappers, and empty plastic bottles, and the blankets that you’d typically kept folded neatly were all strewn about - discarded on the floor or left on whichever piece of furniture you’d decided to brood on that day. 

You rarely went into your room when the boys were around, so you weren’t too concerned about the clothes and items littering the room’s floor and your bed. Your studio was, for obvious reasons, another room you didn't need to worry about...but you didn’t even want to think about the mess in the kitchen. You knew for a fact you hadn’t bothered soaking - let alone washing - any pots or pans you’d used. The murky dishwater in the sink - clouded by the few dishes you had picked up - wasn’t forgotten either. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing empty water bottles from the coffee table in front of you - stumbling in your rush to get them into the recycling bin before returning swiftly to the living room to gather the dishes you’d left behind in your indifference. You set them on the counter, having to use a bit of force to squeeze them into an open space far too small initially, before plunging your hand into the sink with a grimace and pulling the plug - draining the stagnant water from days ago. 

With the plug replaced, soap added, and the faucet turned on at a scalding temperature, you hurriedly put the dirty dishes in - grabbing the pots and pans to fill with a bit of water to let them soak in hopes that it appeared as though you weren’t living the way you had been for so long. A whispered curse left your lips as you abandoned the still-filling sink to make your way towards the bathroom - pulling the large pile of clothes into your arms with a soft grunt before trudging into your bedroom and tossing them into the hamper.

You had just gathered the wrappers from the table and thrown them away, on your way to pick up the blankets when you heard a rhythmic knock on the front door - there was no mistaking the one-three-one pattern as Changbin and Felix’s signature, seeing as you’d jointly decided as a group that this was how you’d all make it apparent who was visiting in case of a spontaneous drop-in.

Elation and panic weren’t necessarily an easy pair of emotions to blend together, but that didn’t stop your instant stiffening as your head spun to stare at the rich mahogany - knowing that, for what felt like the first time after an eternity, your friends had arrived.

Kicking blankets towards the corner as you crossed the room hurriedly, you turned the deadbolt and grabbed the knob. Goosebumps covered your arms as you held the cold metal in your hands for a moment - though you’d be remiss to blame it all on the chill - hesitating before turning it and pulling it open. “Hey,” you began before the door was even fully open, your anxiety apparent in the way your voice quavered on such a simple word, “Thanks for coming, I know that–” You were cut off by an abrupt, tightly set pair of arms wrapping around your body as Changbin, standing in front of Felix, crossed the threshold in one long and impatient stride. He didn’t say a word, simply crushing you in what could’ve easily been mistaken as a restraining hold rather than a hug. He was soon joined by Felix, who approached much more slowly and opted to hug you from the side - enveloping you between himself and Changbin with a sniffle that, despite being unable to see his face, made you absolutely certain he was crying.

“Don’t you ever disappear on us like that again,” Changbin muttered against the top of your head as he placed a chaste peck atop your unbrushed tresses, earning a nod felt against your shoulder as Felix silently agreed, likely afraid to speak considering his likelihood to sob the moment he made a sound.

The guilt you’d grown so accustomed to when you’d think about the two of them lurched in your stomach at the way relief had audibly invaded what you were sure Changbin had intended to be a scolding tone.

“I’m sorry…” you choked out, joining Felix in crying as you spoke the only words you could. The only words that felt proper, considering the circumstances. The only words appropriate after snubbing the only people with the potential to understand you during your darkest time.

“Changbin, don’t make them cry!” Felix reprimanded with a sniffle, squeezing you tighter as he shot his best attempt at a glare Changbin’s way.

“I would’ve cried anyway,” it was true, your response. If the guilt on its own wouldn’t have been enough to rouse your emotions, the relief that they came after all this time was.

Felix nodded, but sent Changbin one last playful glare as you were guided inside, making your way to the sofa in tandem, settling in to wait out the storms; raging outside and in your mind.

As the crying ceased on both Felix’s and your end, he and Changbin had questions. You’d been absent from their lives for so long, after all. It was only natural they wanted some answers.

You told them.. You told them every unpretty detail.

You told them about your hand, and how despite the effort you made in rehabilitation that it would never be the same. 

You told them about the scar, and how sometimes it would hurt as if to taunt you, to remind you as soon as you thought that you were maybe, possibly okay that you would never be again. 

You told them about your solitude, surrounded by the company of dirty dishes and overfilled hampers. 

You told them about your mother, and the ultimatum she gave you regarding the way you were living. 

You told them about Hyunjin, the beautiful boy you were charged with transferring the remaining shreds of the dream you’d always dreamed to.

You told them how, despite your disdain, teaching Hyunjin forced you to make an effort to be human again. To be alive. To wash clothes and wear them clean after taking a shower. To leave your apartment.

You told them how, in a way, it was because of Hyunjin that you’d finally broken your silence today. How wrong it felt to be better for a stranger when the two of them had been waiting for so long.

You told them how deeply, painfully sorry you were.

And, when they told you not to apologize and that they were never going to leave you behind, asking if you’d go shopping with them tomorrow?

You told them nothing would make you happier.

When the two of them left, you felt lighter. As though a great burden had been lifted from your shoulders…or, more accurately, distributed between three sets rather than being carried by you alone.

Changbin and Felix had only been gone for about an hour when the buzz of your phone alerted you to a message from an unfamiliar number.

???: Hey! I hope this isn’t a bad time. Ms. Park gave me your number!

???: This is Hyunjin, by the way.

You knew now who the messages were coming from, though more questions were acquired than answers. 

You typed and deleted several responses ranging from, “What do you want?” which you decided seemed a bit too rude, and “Why are you contacting me?” which seemed the same, only stiffer. You finally decided on a tried and true, much more casual:

You: What’s up?

It took only a few seconds for him to respond with a simple question that - from any other mentor - would seem reasonable. Yet your heart, once lightened by the reunion with your friends, seemed to gain several pounds as it plummeted uncomfortably into your stomach.

Hyunjin: Would you be willing to come with me to the art supply store? I’m new to oils and really don’t want to grab the wrong brushes.

Technically speaking, you were perfectly capable and more than qualified to fulfill this task. In fact, at risk of sounding vain, you may be one of the best people to help him out. If he’d have asked you prior to the accident, you’d have jumped on the opportunity to help an aspiring artist purchase their first set of oil-appropriate brushes.

Under different circumstances, you’d have found great joy - fun even - in browsing an art store with someone who wanted to be there. You’d often found yourself wishing for exactly that when you’d notice the bored expressions on Felix and Changbin’s faces on the rare occasions that you’d managed to convince them to tag along. 

This, however, was not under those circumstances.

You were not excited. You were not looking forward to it. You would never have wished for this in a million years.

And, despite the fact that Changbin and Felix were; you were not the same.

You debated ghosting him, acting as if you’d perhaps dozed off or set your phone down and lost track of time. You considered telling him to ask the clerk for help instead, despite knowing that they probably knew the bare minimum and were only working there for a paycheck, not passion, and would likely encourage him to buy the most expensive option rather than the most effective. You even considered simply saying, “No.”

You likely would have gone with any of these options had it not been for the way he’d grown on you. 

Perhaps it was his apologetic nature during last week’s lesson, when you’d displayed an unexpected level of emotion following his innocent query regarding you painting. 

Or perhaps it was the ease with which he offered to drop the subject. 

Maybe it could even have a little bit to do with the warmth of his work, and the way it made you feel something other than empty or angry - however briefly, before jealousy took over - for the first time since the accident.

Regardless of why, you did not, in fact, choose any of your reflexive responses. Instead, you agreed, telling him to meet you in about an hour, cleverly choosing a shop other than the one you were once a regular at despite the further distance. 

You simply couldn’t handle the barrage of questions Hyunjin would likely have should you be recognized; should it come to light that you had lied to him. That you were, in fact, a painter once.

Once.

The reminder, though self-inflicted, still stung as you gathered your bag and jacket, a pit in your gut still present even as you locked up and made your way to the roadside to hail a taxi. The drive did little to remedy it either, and you found yourself unable to match the smile you were greeted with as Hyunjin spotted you exiting the cab.

“Hey! Thanks again for agreeing even though it was last minute!” he called warmly, jogging up to meet you halfway.

You simply nodded, adjusting the bag over your shoulder and gesturing towards the shop in an attempt to occupy him with something other than expressing his thanks.

There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that if it weren’t for the way the brightness of his smile only seemed to accentuate the shadows of your envy, allowing it to grow and fester despite your intentions to be a good teacher to him.

Luckily, he took the hint without breaking stride, walking a few paces ahead of you as you entered the shop. You watched as he paused, eyes wide and curious, until he smiled once more upon spotting the aisle labeled brushes. You followed along at your same slow pace even as he rushed ahead towards it, finding him with two different sets in each hand as you caught up to him.

Reading the furrow of his brow as an internal debate over which was better, you spoke up from behind him, “Neither of those are what you want.”

He jumped, as if the few second gap between your arrivals in this aisle were enough to startle him. It was endearing, in a way, and you couldn’t help but let out the tiniest laugh in the form of a dry scoff.

Setting both sets down, Hyunjin chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head as he turned to face you, “Which ones then?” he asked, choosing not to acknowledge his brief moment of fright as he gestured with a grand sweeping motion to the display racks.

“Let’s see,” you murmured back to him, letting him off without any teasing, instead taking a few strides forward with your eyes on the rack and skimming each set for a specific logo - a simple white outline of a lily - belonging to the brand you preferred.

Used to prefer.

A pause imperceptible to anyone but yourself made itself in your stride, but you focused on the task at hand. You could handle this. It was just picking out brushes. It wasn’t a taunt from the universe, despite the way it felt. It wasn’t a cruel joke. It was just picking out brushes.

So why was your heart racing like you were about to get thrown into a pit of lions?

Swallowing your own nerves, you reached out to sift through the rack, finally producing the same set of brushes you’d once started with on your own journey, before it had been cut short, and handed it over to Hyunjin.

“These are gonna be your best bet,” you supplied, hoping he’d leave it at that.

Whether it was luck or a bit of intuition on Hyunjin’s part, he did just that.

“Thanks, I would’ve been staring at the rack like a fool for at least twenty minutes if not for you,” he said with a quiet laugh, tucking the set under his arm.

“Think of how many people could have startled you in that time,” you gave an attempt to banter, at which his quiet laughter exploded into a bright, vibrant cackle - out of place both from someone as beautiful as he was, and someplace as quiet as this.

He quickly smacked his hand over his mouth, eyes widening as he continued to snicker, “Since when are you funny?” he asked between subdued snorts.

“There’s more to me than you know.”

What a double-edged answer, considering all that you were actively hiding from him.

“Besides,” you began, keen to distract your mind from the discomfort of dwelling on secrets you kept from Hyunjin, “It wasn’t really that funny.”

A shake of his head prefaced the assurance you hadn’t asked for, “Trust me, I don’t laugh like that often! In fact, believe it or not, I try not to be noisy in quiet, public spaces.”

“Oh, is that so?” you responded with a laugh that felt foreign falling from your lips, shaking your head, “In that case, I will do my utmost to keep my hilarity to a minimum.”

Hyunjin exhaled a small snort from his nose, giving an over-dramatic bow - complete with a flourish - before speaking in an deliberately ostentatious tone, “I am most grateful.”

You shook your head, shoving his arm playfully to spur him back into standing, “Ready to check out?” you asked him, hoping the answer was yes. You wanted - no, needed - to leave. 

It wasn’t Hyunjin, by any means. If it were anything but art supplies, you’d actually have quite enjoyed this outing. Hyunjin was good company, once you’d given him a chance. You’d smiled more today than you had in a long while, your cheeks hurting from the lack of use prefacing today.

Hyunjin was warm, bright like the sun, perfectly good company. He was funny without being a tryhard. He was unabashed in his individuality, from the way he bantered to the guffaw you could still hear echoing in your mind.

It definitely wasn’t Hyunjin.

Despite not being your old favorite, being inside of a supply shop still gave you an unwelcome feeling of nostalgia. The scent was the same, regardless of what shop you went to, and you could swear the once-comforting aroma was now a foul stench, something you’d likely shower away when you got home.

“Just about, I need a couple canvases and a few tubes of paint,” he answered absently, blissfully unaware of just how dire of straits you were in.

You nodded, waving him away playfully with your hand in hopes he’d gather what he needed quickly, walking up the aisle to wait near the register for him. You weren’t about to abandon him here, now that the job of finding brushes he’d spontaneously tasked you with was complete. You weren’t that desperate.

It was close, though.

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter. A scoff was earned from the cashier, but you were more than used to ignoring people after your recent experience, allowing you to stay put without so much as an apologetic glance. 

You shuffled, growing antsier with every moment you waited for Hyunjin. You weren’t exactly spatially aware, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a clatter following the brushing of your bag against the countertop.

“Sorry,” you muttered, ignoring the way the cashier rolled their eyes at you as you bent down to pick up what had fallen. 

It was obvious that it was a set of brushes, considering the shape of the package. As you lifted it, something possessed you; whether it be curiosity or masochism, you turned the set around in your hands to get a good look at it.

The first thing you noticed was a simple white lily.

What were the odds? Of anything you could’ve accidentally bumped, it just had to be something you were intimately familiar with? You shook your head, fighting the urge to roll your eyes before you realized that perhaps you weren’t as familiar with this set as you once thought.

Next to the logo was a small, ornate ‘7.’ The last you knew, there were only six sets from this brand. 

For the briefest moment, excitement coursed through your veins. Your eyes lit up, your lips twitched in anticipation of a smile. This brand always had such great improvements with every set they released, and you weren’t sure they’d ever release a new one. You owned all six prior sets, and wouldn’t part with them for anything in the world. 

And then it hit you.

And the smile that had begun forming dropped.

And you felt sick to your stomach.

Because you would not use these brushes. You no longer used the other six sets.

You would never feel the difference in the improved handle shape, how comfortable it would feel in your hand with the carefully formed grooves.

You wouldn’t buy them without a second thought, as you once would’ve. You wouldn’t rush home to lock yourself away until someone came to check on you; because you wouldn’t need checked on, considering you’d never get so sucked into painting that you’d forget the outside world ever again.

“Hey! Sorry I took so long!” Hyunjin chirped from behind you, making you jerk your head up towards him.

“Oh, uh, no problem,” you managed, though you sounded more robotic than you’d intended. You set the brushes down on the counter, quickly enough that you nearly knocked over the rest of the display, “I’m gonna wait outside, okay?” 

Confusion furrowed the man’s brow as he tilted his head, inquisitive gaze locked on you as though he could find the answers he sought in your face if he stared long enough, “Uh…sure. You okay?”

Damn him. 

Damn his earnest concern and his functional fucking hands. 

Damn his too-loud laugh and his ability to get so lost comparing sets of brushes that your return after only a few seconds startled him.

Damn his drive to improve, damn the way he made you smile, and damn the universe for bringing him into your life now; when you’d lost the ability to fully appreciate him.

“I’m fine,” you lied with a forced smile, nodding your head quickly, “Just need some air.”

“Oh…sure,” Hyunjin answered slowly, returning the smile - though the furrowed brows remained, betraying the concern he still felt. “I’ll try to be quick.”

“Take your time,” you called over your shoulder, having already been walking as fast as was socially acceptable indoors the moment you’d heard the first syllable of a positive response. 

Your chest felt tight, your heart in a vice as you gritted your teeth, forcing air into your lungs in short little gasps. The doors seemed so far, and your steps felt too slow…but you did eventually make it outside, sitting down on a bench as you ran a hand through your hair and stared up at the sky, focusing on getting your breath under control before Hyunjin was finished.

God forbid you give him yet another reason to worry. It was ironic that, despite becoming his mentor to avoid such a fate, you didn’t doubt he may be wondering if you should be institutionalized considering your proclivity to lose your composure around him.

By the time he returned, you were as composed as you’d get considering the thoughts swirling tumultuously in your mind. A tight lipped smile from your end was returned brightly by Hyunjin, all traces of furrowed brows and concern completely wiped from his now elated face.

“I didn’t take too long, did I?” he asked as you rose from the bench. 

“Not at all,” you shook your head as you spoke, silently grateful that he’d taken as long as he had. You didn’t want to imagine how he’d look right now if you’d still been struggling to breathe upon his return.

“That’s a relief,” his voice sounded…excited somehow. Like a child eager for praise - his eyes wide and bright and his lips still upturned happily. You wondered what, exactly, had brought him into this state of mind…though you didn’t need to wait long.

He reached into the white paper bag, his slender fingers grabbing something out and lifting it.

The first thing you saw; a white lily. The second; the number ‘7.’

Your stomach sank. Was this a joke? You already struggled to teach him, considering his ability to do what you no longer could…and now he was going to use the brushes you never would? Internally, you wondered if rage or sadness would  be more appropriate - despite the answer being neither, considering he didn’t know any better.

Damn him.

Damn his –

“I noticed you were looking at these when I came up to check out,” he began, cutting off your internal rant, and earning a disconcerted tilt of the head from you.

“And?” you asked, a bit too sharply to be towards someone who was simply making conversation. 

It isn’t his fault, don’t be a dick, you reminded yourself, gritting your teeth.

“And,” he drew out the word, treating your venom as though it was nothing more than a continuation of the simple banter you’d shared in the brush aisle, “I wanted to thank you for all of your help so far, but you don’t share much.” He paused, holding the set out towards you.

No. 

Oh, please no.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you realized…he didn’t buy them for his own use. He got them for you. 

He was giving you the very object that had spurred your hasty retreat from the shop in the first place. 

Damn him. 

Damn him and the way his eyes bored into yours, waiting for a response besides a dumbfounded drop of your jaw.

Damn him and the way that, despite thinking he had done something good, he was just like a housecat. Bringing you a dead rat, very proud and completely unaware that you did not want to touch it. 

Waiting for praise. For gratitude.

He must have noticed your silence, because his bright smile turned into more of a shy, half-upturned grin, his voice softer and filled with significantly less glee.

“It’s just…You looked excited for a second when you picked them up, so I figured they must be important, even though you said you didn’t paint,” he paused to laugh under his breath…but not like he had earlier. This was not joyful, it reeked of self-deprecation and embarrassment.

Damn him and his ability to make you feel guilty for the feelings you cannot control.

“Shit, I’m sorry–” you wondered for a moment why he was apologizing for such a kind gesture, but got your answer in the form of wetness becoming apparent on your cheeks. He reached out with his sleeve, wiping at the tears, looking and sounding so very panicked. 

You shook your head, ignoring the comfort his hands brushing away your sadness brought, and wondered if he even knew exactly what he was apologizing for. Surely he knows he did nothing wrong…before the accident, you would’ve likely crushed him in a hug upon being given the exact gift that had you in shambles now.

“It’s stupid, you told me you didn’t paint,” he sighed deeply, looking down at you with that same worried, furrowed brow he’d shown inside. He lowered his hand from your face - his perfectly functional, unscarred hand - and rummaged through the bag with it, “I should’ve asked if you wanted them, I’m sorry.” 

You couldn’t do anything other than shake your head, the ability to form words gone as you struggled to even garner a single cohesive thought.

“I’m sure I can bring them back, I kept the receipt–”

“No!”

You surprised yourself with the quickness with which you declined his offer to rid you of this accidental reminder of what you’d lost; quicker still had you reached out and snatched the set from his hands, holding it tightly to your chest.

“No..?” Hyunjin asked, the slightest hint of relief creeping into his voice - so subtle and tentative. So ready to return the brushes and apologize again at the first sign of discontent.

You were just as surprised as he was, unsure of what possessed you to decline the offer that would remove the unwelcome reminder. 

Maybe it was the pride with which he’d presented them to you, or a desire to wipe the worry from his expression. 

Or, maybe it was simply a dream refusing to die.

“No,” you repeated, shaking your head and looking up at him. Tears no longer fell, and you sniffled quietly as you felt your lips pull up into the smallest of smiles.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, as if prepared at any time to take the brushes back to the cashier. You gave him a nod and tucked the brushes away in your bag.

“Absolutely.”

Hyunjin nodded, and as per usual didn’t press any further. Hyunjin was good about that, aside from your initial meeting. It was easy to assume he’d learned not to delve too deep into your psyche following the abrupt exit you’d made.

The only question he’d asked after your acceptance of the brushes was if you’d like to share a cab, to which you agreed, standing at his side as he hailed the first one to come by.

You watched out the window as the cityscape blurred by, keeping your gaze on the window. It was easy to get lost in your own mind with the drone of the tires on asphalt serving as white noise, easily lulling you into tangential thought. 

Perhaps there was more about Hyunjin that you envied, aside from his ability to paint. To dream.

Everything seemed to roll right off of him. The moments you’d seen him concerned were so easily put behind him. He didn’t dwell. He didn’t linger. He moved forward, unstoppable despite the way you were effectively acting as a roadblock.

He kept showing up to lessons following the very first one, in which you could readily admit you did not make the best first impression.

You wished you could do that, move forward without looking back. If it were a skill to be taught, maybe you could ask Hyunjin for lessons in exchange for the ones you gave him.

With that thought in your mind, you finally spoke into the silence of the backseat.

“What would you do if you woke up tomorrow and couldn’t paint?”

You heard Hyunjin rustle across the seat, his breath coming out in an extended sigh as he contemplated how to answer. You didn’t need to tell him what happened to you in order to pick his brain, you’d realized.

“You mean like…if I forgot how to?” he asked, his tone riddled with confusion.

“No,” you murmured, turning your gaze from the window to look at him, “I mean…If something happened to make you lose your ability.”

Hyunjin hummed, looking up at the roof of the cab as he rubbed his chin in thought, his head tilted back against the headrest.

You couldn’t help but wish you had the luxury of considering this situation as rhetorical.

Finally speaking up as the vehicle came to a stop in front of your apartment, Hyunjin let his head loll over without lifting to look at you, “I wouldn’t accept that,” he answered firmly, “I’d keep trying until I could again.”

You didn’t realize you were laughing until the sound came out of your mouth, earning a befuddled look from your companion, his lower lip jutting out slightly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, looking almost offended, as though there were some inside joke he desperately wanted to understand but wouldn’t get an explanation to.

You simply shook your head, waving a hand and stopping your laughter with a sigh, “Nothing, nothing at all,” you mused, lips still upturned in amusement as you got out of the cab, closing the door and walking up the steps to your apartment, turning around at the door to wave goodbye.

Still appearing painfully puzzled, Hyunjin lifted his hand to wave back. Though, considering the slowness of the action, it could hardly be considered such.

As the cab pulled away, you made your way inside. Locking the door and removing your shoes, you picked up the brushes and set them down on the coffee table, a wistful smile on your lips as one thought echoed over and over in your mind.

+++

Funny how the answers to your questions pertaining to the future are resting in the shape of an envelope on your kitchen table. You sit across from it, too scared to open it. Instead, choose to stare at the printed return address of your dream school in the corner. It had been weeks of waiting for an answer after applying. It discouraged you when Felix received his acceptance letter last week. 

You both submitted applications simultaneously. From the same location. The pair of you share similar academic records. Both having a damn near perfect grade point averages minus a couple points. Yet your insecurities ran with scenarios left and right to the point you struggled to sleep. Felix reassured you the best he could, telling you to be patient. Perhaps applications get reviewed at different times, or the acceptance letter just got delayed thanks to the post office. Plausible, yes, but still you worried. You didn’t want to resort to a backup plan. 

You shot a quick text message to Felix in an attempt he could be of some help. He would open the letter for you. 

It’s not even a full minute later when Felix comes crashing through the kitchen entryway, breathless from running out of his own house to yours. “I came as fast as I could. Did you open it?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Well, why not? Just open it! Don’t wait for me!”

“I can’t. What if I don’t get in?”

“Please, you had better chances than I did and I got in!” Felix swipes the letter, tearing the envelope and tossing it behind him. With shaky hands, he unfolds the letter scanning. Seconds later, a giant smile breaks out onto his face. “It is with great pleasure I inform you of your acceptance!”

A wave of relief washes over you, the tension melting away. You can finally breathe after several weeks. Felix hands you the letter to confirm. Even with the letter in your hands, it feels like a dream. You have checked all of your goals for the last year off in completion. All the hard work has paid off. 

“Here! Order takeout on me. Let’s celebrate.” Felix says while handing his phone over. He already pulled the favorite restaurant you both enjoy up on screen. 

“I guess we’re taking Hyunjin’s offer, then?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s cheaper than living on campus. Plus, you’ll like Seungmin.”

“He seemed nice when I met him. We’ll have to hang out with them soon. Do you wanna pick what you want?”

“Surprise me. You know what I like, anyway.”

“What are you doing?” You ask while watching Felix rummage through your cabinets for supplies. 

He pulls out a container of cocoa powder. “I’m gonna bake. I was planning on it anyway, but I’ll just make them here. Your mom keeps asking for brownies.”

“God, you know you’re her favorite child, right? No need to go overboard.

“What does that say about you?” Felix questions with a glance over his shoulder. A wide smile appears when he sees you playfully glare. 

“You play a dangerous game talking to me like that while trusting me with your credit card info.”

Felix’s laugh fills the room. It’s an empty threat. After quickly ordering, you silently observe Felix work. He’s cut his preparation time down now thanks to memorizing the recipe. It’s no longer even needed to look at measurements. The information is well retained due to the baking becoming a staple for both households. The bonus is he enjoys the hobby. There is no reason to stop him if he’s going to make goodies for free. The only downside is the wait for his attempt at lemon squares. 

“See, I’m a genius. We’ll eat our food, and then have dessert.” Felix says while closing the oven. 

He lingers by the counter. There was an attempt to clean the small mess he made, however Felix gets distracted. He’s a kid in a candy store, stopping to taste the leftover brownie batter. You can’t look away, watching Felix dip his finger in the empty bowl before bringing it to his lips. A cheerful hum leaves him while he licks the remaining batter away. Your breath gets caught in your throat watching him repeat the action. It’s normally harmless. Felix isn’t even trying to do anything remotely sexual. The longer his tongue darts over his fingers, the stronger the twinge of arousal is. It’s nearly enough to cause you to squirm in your seat.    

Two can play at that game. If you have to suffer, then so will he. 

All of Felix’s attention is on the bowl in his hands as his finger goes for another swipe of batter. He doesn’t seem suspicious of your intentions till you close the distance. Your touch is gentle when reaching for his wrist. He nervously swallows, eyes wide with curiosity. Felix is glued to his spot while you lean forward to take his finger in your mouth. A moan of approval slips out at the taste of brownie batter against your tongue. 

Felix’s eyes dart between your lips, and his saliva coated finger when you pull away. “Is it…good?” 

“Mhm. Very good.”

“You shouldn’t eat a lot because...” Felix’s words trail off. He’s hypnotized by you, watching as you reach for the mixing spoon. You drag your tongue over the length. It’s enough to have Felix leaning against the counter for support. Now nervously chewing his bottom lip, waiting to see if you continue. There isn’t a thought behind his gaze.

“Because what?”

You know exactly what you are doing to him. Still, you feign the fake innocence. Just to see what Felix’s reaction would be. Things have always been platonic between you. Doesn’t hurt to test the waters now and then. 

The sound of the doorbell startles both of you out of the moment. Felix nearly drops the mixing bowl, managing to place it on the counter. He stumbles over his words, unable to shake how flustered he is. “Th-That should be the food… I’ll go get that.”

“You sure you want to answer the door like that?” Your eyes flick down briefly before up to Felix’s face. He follows the same pattern with his own eyes. A curse leaves his mouth when noticing his cock straining against his thin shorts. His hands fly down to cover himself. The gears turning in his head, trying to come up with an excuse. You can’t help the mischievous smile creeping onto your face at his embarrassment. Part of you knows Felix is attracted to you, just unsure of what degree. 

Now you know.

You play nice and not tease him. Instead, giving him an easy out. “I’ll get the door. You take care of your problem.”

A common weekend occurrence is sleepovers. Doesn’t matter if at Felix’s place or your own. It’s routine now. What started out as movie marathons paired with falling asleep in the living room changed over the years.

Now, evenings take place in either of your bedrooms. A random movie goes on while the two of you stay snuggled together. Sometimes you don’t even speak to one another. Absorbed into your own little worlds. Felix on his computer or Switch while you read or play games on your own console. Some nights, too many heated rounds of Mario Kart or Smash Bros happen, resulting in you demanding a few rounds of zombies to unwind. Though shut down to Felix’s dramatic panic, where he is crying while running the horde away. 

Despite the events, the night ends with you falling asleep next to each other. Other times, you two fall asleep in each other’s arms after rough days. Felix says he prefers your bed since it’s larger. Less cramped with better bedding. You enjoy his bed for the giant pikachu plush you cuddle with.

Tonight is your bedroom. Another play through of Breath of the Wild consumes Felix when you roll over to face him. He glances over at you with a soft smile. “What’s on your mind?”  

“I wanted to thank you for today.”

“I did nothing.”

“Yeah, you did. You put up with my damn nerves plus the celebrating.”

“We earned it,” Felix says with a casual shrug. 

He’s right, you two earned today. It’s a moment to reflect. To take in all you have accomplished. Soon it’ll be expensive textbooks and lecture halls. New challenges and experiences not only for you but for Felix as well. It feels surreal to be moving on to the next chapter of your life. Plus, your best friend is coming with you. There isn’t an ounce of worry about what the future holds. Shouldn’t you be? 

“Are you nervous about moving?”

“No. I have you with me.” Felix didn’t even hesitate with his answer. He must feel it too. The pair of you have tackled plenty of challenges already. This is no different. “I mean it when I say that. I can take on the world with you.”

“And what happens if I just disappear? I can’t be your entire world.”

“But you are. Without you, I’d never be complete again.”

“Lix…”

“I know you don’t like it when I talk like that, but it’s true. Besides, I have other people in my life.”

The conversation ends, leaving you with your thoughts. However, the mood shifts. Felix’s lips turn down to a scowl, telling you something is troubling him. So you question him, curious to know what could cause a shift so quickly. 

“I miss him sometimes.”

Without even saying his name, Felix means Yongbok. It’s understandable that he misses his brother. It’s been a couple years now with the pair drifting apart. Being intentionally avoided by someone you are incredibly close to hurts.

“Hey, we talked about this. He’ll come around. If he wants to be in our lives, he’ll make the effort.”

“I just miss how it was. When it was the three of us. I want that back.”

“Give it some time. He loves you. You’re his other half. He just needs to learn what he’s like not to have you.”

Felix nods before rolling on his side away from you. You scoot closer, wrapping an arm around his middle to comfort him. Felix relaxes in your hold. He’s continuing to play, trying to act unaffected. The huff that leaves him reveals he’s still thinking about Yongbok. 

No matter how many times you tell Felix to not take Yongbok’s behavior personally, he does. He blames himself even though he’s done nothing wrong. It’s your goal to always be here to give him hope. If Yongbok doesn’t come around, then you will be here for Felix. Just as you do with everything that causes trouble in his life. 

“Those psychic powers of yours won’t work on the phone.”

When you glance up, Felix is in front of you, across the small island in the kitchen. He has an unamused look when peeking at the name on top of the opened messages. Caught red-handed, you lock your phone before placing it face down. You sit up straighter, giving Felix all your attention. While you were sulking in your chair, Felix finished cleaning up the mess of an after work snack. He has made it a point to clean since you had cooked. A fitting dynamic that has occurred for years. 

“Sorry. I was expecting a message. Guess it’s not gonna happen.”

“Then that person isn’t worth it. It takes two seconds to reply.”

It’s beginning to feel that way with Yongbok. Another broken promise of staying in touch. Over the last week, you have been getting updates from him every morning. Genuine, cute good morning texts that in reality were a way for you to check on his well-being. Then the messages stopped two days ago. Complete radio silence.

To entice Yongbok to reply, you sent a couple of suggestive photos in the morning asking for help with deciding on an outfit. He responds quicker when he takes the image bait. Curiosity is always getting to him. All it tells you is he can respond, though chooses not to. 

The message doesn’t say he read it. Lessens the blow slightly. Being left on read would be worse. The possibilities keep running through your mind. He could be busy, maybe lost his phone, broken it while being dumb with his friends, or he doesn’t want to talk. The last one hurts, even though you know it’s the answer. By no means is Yongbok obligated to talk to you. He’s got free will. A life of his own. Though the promise of better contact is fresh in your mind and once again, Yongbok’s promises have fallen through.

More than anything, you want to be angry. The constant lack of effort leads to disappointment. It gets to you after a while. Especially when it’s your own fault getting attached. If you kept your feelings out of this mess, his actions wouldn’t hurt you. 

That leads you back to this moment now. It’s been weeks since seeing him in person. Weeks since Yongbok thought you were asleep and confessed his love for you. Now you are convinced he didn’t mean it. Just a heat of the moment because he got caught up in the afterglow of sex. He had weeks to act on it, to change the habits he has. 

Part of you wants to reveal you heard him. To call him out, force him to be honest with where he stands in your relationship. Because you are tired of the constant let down. He says he wants you in his life, but it’s not high on his list of priorities. Especially when you know he’s spending the night drinking with his friends, thanks to Jisung ratting him out. So maybe you should just accept that the lack of contact is your answer. 

Then you have Felix. Sweet ray of sunshine in front of you, trying his hardest to make you smile. One look from you, and he’s yours. Willing to be at your beck and call, no matter the circumstances. The person you spend the most time with. 

Your relationship with him is complicated. He loves you with his whole heart. To an extent, you do as well. It’s easy to love Felix. He makes it very easy. The idea of a romantic relationship crossed your mind a few times. It seems wrong to indulge in Felix’s love. Selfish even. You, of all people, don’t deserve him. 

Speaking of temptation himself, Felix comes back into your view. He has his hands behind him, trying to hide something. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

“That’s a little forward, Lix.” You say with an eyebrow raised. “We’re in the kitchen, for god’s sake. People eat here.”

“Just do it.”

You comply after his dramatic eye roll. He places a piece of candy in your mouth. There is sugar coating the outside. A cautious bite reveals it’s a gummy of some sort with hints of a peach flavor the more you chew. Felix plops the bag on the counter once you open your eyes. You pull them closer to examine. The next one you eat is even sweeter. To be expected with Felix. He has a sweet tooth, after all.

“What do you think?”

“Mmm, they’re good.” You give an approving nod. “Where did you get these?”

“I brought them home from when I was on vacation. My grandparents always had these at their house. I have to make them last since there weren’t a lot of them.”

“Oh, really? Thanks.”

Before Felix can react, you swipe the bag of candy before booking it out of the kitchen. It takes a few seconds for Felix to catch on before you hear his scream from the kitchen. “No! Get back here!”

Even with your giggling, there are thundering steps up the stairs right behind you. You close his bedroom door in his face before he can reach you. The door doesn’t stop him for long, busting through with a smile cheek to cheek. “You’re trapped now. Nowhere to run!”

“You can pry them from my cold, dead hands.”

It’s sudden when Felix rushes toward you. A playful shove catches you off guard, sending you backwards onto his bed. He’s there the next instant, hovering over you. Felix is strong. Stronger than you expected his lean body to be, as you cannot buck him off of you. You try your best to keep your hands away out of his reach. Only making it easier for him to get a hold of your wrists before pinning them down above your head. He’s successful in prying the bag of candy away from you. Which is promptly tossed away from you, landing somewhere on his nightstand. 

Felix sounds so proud of his triumph. “Caught you! You can’t run from your crimes.”

“Oh, yeah?” You question, not missing a beat. “What’s my punishment, then?”

Felix’s eyes go wide as saucers at your words. The tips of his ears turn a dark shade of red before his cheeks. Realization of the position you two are in hits him.

“A kiss.” His voice was barely audible. Almost too scared to say what he wants. 

“I think I can handle that.”

Time moves slowly in the next few seconds. This doesn’t feel real. A dream perhaps? You are hyper aware of every little sound and movement. Felix's breathing has picked up. He’s tense. It’s his first kiss. Felix has never looked at anyone else other than you with romantic interest. He only has eyes for you. 

Sometimes in the past, you wondered if he would kiss you. So many nights together, eyes locked on each other, talking bullshit while the rest of the world is long forgotten. Felix would always scoot closer, focused on your lips, taking in how they moved when you talked. He never took the risk.

Here and now the ball is in his court. Felix makes his move. You don’t stop him as he leans in. Curiosity floods you. There’s no harm in one kiss. It’s just a kiss. Means nothing. 

How wrong you were when Felix brushes his lips against yours. Ever so cautious while molding his lips against yours. He may be inexperienced, yet quick to follow your lead. You can’t help the sigh slipping out of you. Felix’s lips are pillowy soft. It’s enough to cause your racing heart to give out. 

Felix pulls away to judge your reaction. His hands let your wrists go. You couldn’t move if you wanted to. Stuck frozen in place, still feeling the lingering sensation of his grip. His palms rest on the bed, keeping you trapped under him. A word isn’t said by either of you. 

Instead, Felix meets you halfway when coming in for another kiss. Your brain is working overtime to process all of your emotions. It shouldn’t feel this good to have Felix on top of you. It’s not right how satisfying his kisses are. Gentle and full of love. The lump in your throat is hard to swallow, too distracted by the way your stomach flutters. This differs from what you are used to. 

Different from Yongbok. 

Kissing Felix is exhilarating. Enough to send adrenaline rushing through you. The scariest roller coaster in the world couldn’t give you this thrill. It’s consuming. Infecting every cell in your body. Even invading all your thoughts, pushing the ones of Yongbok into a dark corner out of sight. 

It’s instinct to lean your head back. Felix trails his soft kisses down your chin to your neck. He’s experimenting with how you react. From soft kisses to light sucks. Once he gets a moan out of you, he settles to mark up the sensitive spot he found.

Felix’s fingers ghost over your skin when slipping under your shirt. Gradually creeping higher, testing the waters. Eventually halting just shy of your breasts. Your hands clamp over his to stop him. 

No, you can’t do this. Guilty conscience clears the haze in your brain. You told yourself you would never allow this situation to occur. Even if you are not sleeping with Yongbok, this is still his brother. Some lines cannot be crossed. No matter the circumstance.

“What’s wrong? Did I do-”

“Felix, we can’t.” You say cutting him off. 

He’s wide eyed and confused. His hands are still sending sparks where they touch your bare skin. It’s distracting. They’re warm, too warm against you, disabling you from making a coherent thought. Because even if you aren’t ready to admit it, all you can focus on is how you want more. You want his hands all over you. To touch every inch of you. Let him explore to figure out what makes you tick, all the things he can do to make you feel good, and make you beg for more. There is a yearning for Felix consuming you the longer he stays over you.

“Why not?” Felix sounds miles away when he questions you. It takes all your strength to focus on his words and not on the way one of his thumbs rubs small reassuring circles. Every action in the last few moments has left you dizzy. 

“It’ll be weird between us, and I don’t want that.”

“Why would it be weird? You’re not dating anyone.”

Oh, this little shit. 

You don’t want to say it out loud. You don’t want to admit the words Yongbok has said are true. No strings, no commitment, and no obligation. You have nothing with Yongbok. After all this time. After hearing that love confession, nothing changed. Yongbok seems even more distant than before. If he wanted to be with you, he would try. You had been chasing after someone who only wanted you part of the time. He only wants you when it’s convenient for him. Have his inconsistencies taught you nothing?

There is a pain in your chest. You can’t ignore how, for the first time, your love is being reciprocated. The wall you have stopping yourself from continuing down this path isn’t as strong as it used to be. Here Felix is taking the time to break the defenses brick by brick with care. 

The longer Felix runs his thumb over your skin, the more you want to toss your moral compass out. You shouldn’t. A couple of words could stop all of this now. Yet those words can’t seem to spill from your lips. You deserve happiness.

You deserve genuine love. 

The devil on your shoulder preaches to be selfish. Felix deserves love, too. He’s so patient, waiting to see if he gets a chance. You wonder why he keeps trying. He must feel led on. There are better people out in the world. Everyone knows you for making the poor decisions that is Yongbok. Why the hell would he follow in your footsteps? He must hope that you will come to your senses. 

Felix knows your mind is running a mile a minute. He sounds determined when he speaks. He rehearsed this very conversation. “I don’t care about what you did. I can replace those memories with something better.”

“Well, this is a new side of you.” You answer with a nervous laugh. Humor is your go to when diffusing tense situations. Felix’s expression doesn’t change. His way of telling you to cut the jokes. The smile tugging on the corner of your lips disappears. “Find someone better. Don’t settle on someone like me.”

“It’s always been you.”

“Felix…”

“Just let me finish. There isn’t anyone I’m gonna want. I have been in love with you for years. And maybe it’s my fault for not being more confident. But I want this. I want you and I know you want me.”

Felix is being vulnerable with the confession. It’s such a risk to admit his feelings. He is saying these things to your face. Not waiting till he thinks you are sound asleep. You believe his words. He’s always honest. Hell, he doesn’t even have a filter. He blurts out thoughts without an additional second to process them. You know he would go to the end of the earth to tell you his words. Especially this confession. If you let him, he’d dig his fingers into his own skin to pull out his own beating heart to give to you. 

That’s more than Yongbok would ever do. 

“Can we… Just go slow? See what happens?” 

A nod from you is enough for Felix to capture your lips in another hungry kiss. Your hips shift, leading to Felix to settle between your thighs. This doesn’t have to escalate. Some lazy kisses with dry humping would cause Felix to shoot a load into his jeans. Arousal pools in your gut at the thought. You want to witness Felix falling apart as he comes. To hear the whines leave him when he gets overwhelmed with pleasure. Probably sounds better than his desperate begging when he’s trying to stop your tickling fingers. 

The devil on your shoulder took the moral compass from you to toss in the ocean. Who cares for the regret that will happen later? That’s a problem for you in the future. The current you existing in the present is enjoying the experimental roll of Felix’s hips as he grinds against you. He’s hard. Potentially trying to ease the ache. The ache is mutual. You would tell him if you could formulate the words. Too busy instead moaning into another kiss. 

Felix backs off just enough to let you sit up. You pull your shirt up and off. His eyes trail down to your breasts propped up in a bra. It’s a boring older bra, yet he nervously swallows as if you are wearing a designer piece of lingerie. It’s amusing and flattering. Even more so, with his wide eyes stay glued to you, unclasping your bra to pull it away from you. 

He takes the sight of you almost in awe. Of you, your beauty, and the situation in front of him. There are hints of disbelief on his face. The gears are shifting. This is real. One of his greatest desires is happening to him. 

You lie back down before reaching for his hands. Felix lets out a gasp when his hands rest on your soft breasts. He gently kneads when your hands fall away. Experimentally tugging and rolling your nipples between his fingers till the buds harden. 

Boldly, Felix leans forward, wrapping his lips around a nipple. His tongue flicks across the bud, causing you to gasp. “And where did you learn to do this?” 

“Porn.” Felix says plainly while pulling away. “Well, the pretty porn.”

“Pretty porn?”

“Yeah, it’s softer than the normal stuff. It’s more sensual, I guess.” Felix rolls his eyes at your surprised face. “Don’t give me that look. I’m not as innocent as you think I am.”

“We just don’t talk about it.”

“Well, it’s not an everyday conversation.”

Felix leans back down to continue teasing your breasts. Your back arches when he wetly sucks a mark on your skin. You let him have his fun. Simply admiring the determination he has to touch every inch of your skin with his fingers and lips. 

He preens at the praise spilling from your lips. Now growing bolder, trailing his fingers down to tuck under the waistband of your clothes to help remove the remaining clothing.

Once again, you settle on your back, legs spread. Felix freezes in his spot, wide eyed, taking in the sight of you. He hesitates when his hands connect with your thighs to spread you wider for him. 

“Do you want to touch me?”

Felix nods, gaze transfixed on your hand while it runs over your wet slit. Curiosity gives him the confidence he needs to replace your hand with his own. “You’re wet.”

“From your teasing.” 

“I’m sorry.” He replies sheepishly. 

“Don’t be. I like it.”

You try to stifle a moan, feeling a finger slip inside of you. He cautiously moves the digit back and forth. When he’s met with less resistance, he adds another. It’s not long after he finds a comfortable pattern. He seems pleased knowing it’s him who is bringing you pleasure. A look of determination found its way on his face as other hands cautiously circles your clit. 

“Does it feel good?”

 “Very good.” You nod, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Keep doing that.”

Felix fattens himself to lie on his stomach. His warm breath against you while his fingers continue to curl inside of you. That growing ache is worse now. Walls clenching around his fingers. It’s brain melting when the second his tongue brushes against you. 

“Lix, it’s okay. Your hands are enough.”

“I want to. If you’ll let me.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m gonna stop you.”

Felix is a fever dream the more you think about it. You don’t want him to get overwhelmed. Or to push himself to try things because he feels obligated. He’s known for taking on more than he’s ready for. It makes sense the curiosity to try everything got to him. If he is comfortable, then you will give him the reins to allow him to enjoy himself. You struggle to tell Felix no. If he wants something, you’ll do your damndest to get it for him. 

Your head falls back, body responding to the sensations. Felix continues to prod and lap at your clit. The licks are messy, not in time with his fingers. Still pleasurable enough to have you squirming. He just needs practice and guidance. He’s on the right track. 

“Oh, you’re so good to me.” 

There was a hum of approval from Felix as he seemed focused on the task at hand. His eyes trained on you as you tilt your head down towards him. Your hands coming to your breasts to tease yourself, hoping to add to the building orgasm. Felix could get you there. 

“You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the knot in your core unraveled and your orgasm hits you. Your thighs tremble while you bucked onto his fingers, trying to ride out your high. His name falling from your lips as you moan. That tongue of his finding the perfect pattern to tease you through your orgasm.

Felix slows his actions down as the high dies out. Pulling away to watch himself drag his fingers up to your clit. He comments on the subtle flinching that occurs as he teases the bundle of nerves. “You’re so sensitive after you come.”

“Yeah. Just a little.” 

The hesitation you had is gone now. Call it the heat of the moment or being touched starved. You want Felix. All of him.

You sit up, hands extended to grasp his shirt to help strip him. “We gotta get you out of these clothes.”

He discards the shirt behind him. Felix’s fingers fumble with the button on his jeans. He’s shy again. Avoiding your gaze while shoving his jeans down his legs, left behind on the floor. 

“Are you sure you want to keep going?”

“Yeah.” Felix lets out a nervous chuckle. “I’m just... I’ve never been naked in front of you.”

“Oh honey. You’re handsome. Perfect inside and out.”

“I should say things like that to you.”

“Hey, relax. You’re overthinking.” You cup Felix’s face, forcing him to look at you. “Stop worrying about all the little details. All that matters is feeling good and wanting to do this.”

He nods before leaning in for another kiss. Slowly your hand trails down his chest to his boxers. Lightly palming his erection earns you a small whine trapped in the back of Felix’s throat. Once you feel him rut up against your hand, you slip your fingers under the waistband to pull his cock free. Felix’s eyes flutter shut when your hand wraps around his cock. He’s hard, the tip sticky with pre-cum. Breath hitching as you stroke him. 

“Feels different when it’s you. I like this better.”

“Usually feels better when it’s someone else.” 

You can’t help the smile on your face. Felix is putty in your hands. To mold however you wish. He’s a blank canvas. You can create anything you want. So eager to learn. Ready to soak up knowledge like a sponge. It’s hard to resist. 

Your lips brush over an ear. “I want to feel you in me.”

Felix shudders in response. It’s cute how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. He pulls away to shed off his boxers before digging in a drawer in his nightstand. To your surprise, he has a tiny foil package he tears open. How thoughtful he is to think of a condom even without discussing it. You almost question him about how long he’s had them tucked away in anticipation of this moment. Did he steal them from Yongbok? It’s impossible to imagine Felix standing in front of a row of condoms in a store trying to decide what to buy. A warmth spreads through your chest. You are proud he went out of his way to be prepared. 

“I might not last long.” Felix says while settling between your legs. 

“It’s okay. Just do what feels right.”

“Everything feels right when it’s with you.”

A low groan reverberates through his chest when sinking his cock into you. Felix is a sight to see. Skin flushed, pouty lips, and eyes half shut as he tries to collect himself. He’s savoring the moment. How your walls feel tight around his cock. You don’t say a word, letting him enjoy all the new sensations. It’s slow going when his hips move.

“Fuck. This is a dream.”

“Not a dream.” You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. Your voice is sweet. “It’s very much real. Nice and steady. Take your time with me.”

Felix falls into a rhythm, shallow steady thrusts becoming more confident. Your hips shift to meet him halfway. You want to milk his cock dry. Reduce him to a babbling mess you envisioned. Only if he didn’t turn the tables on you. His cock seemed to fit perfectly in you as he continued to move. 

“Your cock feels so good.”

“Oh fuck,” Felix's grip on the bed sheets tightens. “You can’t talk like that.”

“Why not?”

“Makes me dizzy.”

“In a bad way?” You question with concern. 

“No…I just can’t hold back.”

“Don’t. Come for me.”

Your words appear to be enough encouragement. The self restraint Felix has slipped away, allowing himself to give into the pleasure. His pace picks up. Thrusts becoming erratic. He buried his face in the crook of your neck. Warm breath tickles your skin with every pant. 

“There we go.” You say between moans, “Enjoy it.”

“Ah…fuck.” Felix stills, cock nestled deep inside of you while his seed fills the condom. His whole frame trembles over you. It takes a minute to calm down enough from his high to speak again. “I’ve never come this hard before.”

“You did good. A natural.”

His eyes are glued to your pussy, watching as he pulls out. He’s quick to remove and toss the condom in the trashcan near his nightstand. You welcome him back into your embrace to cuddle. You two lay there while he enjoys the afterglow. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Oh, yes.” His lips turn down into a pout. “I wish I could have made you come again.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not always gonna come from your cock. Doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. It still felt great.”

Felix simply nods. He zones out as your fingers ghost over his back, tracing over the sweaty skin. Now and then, his lips ghost over your skin to kiss you. It’s sweet, fitting for him. You hope your words are reassuring. The last thing you want is for him to think he did something wrong. It was his moment to indulge. If he is happy, then you’re happy. You might have one more trick up your sleeve to ensure he’s having fun. 

“How about I offer something else?”

Showering with a partner isn’t always a great experience. Romantic in theory, rough in practice. Water distribution can be unfair if the bathroom is cold. Lack of room to move around if the space is small, or flat out dangerous with slippery surfaces.

Thankfully, the bathroom separating the two bedrooms is nice. Nicer than the one in your own house. Felix doesn’t even have to share it with anyone since they kicked Yongbok out. 

Felix gave you a head start. The water is quick to warm up. Pressure feels good on the skin, soothing the aches lingering today. The moment of peace forces you up in your head. The more you think about the events that occurred, the more you realize you have no guilt.

No, you are content. 

The bathroom door opens. Seconds later, Felix snakes his arms around your body to pull you against him. Hands of his come up to play with your breasts. It’s adorable how he can’t get enough of you. His chin rests on your shoulder while watching the hot water cascade over you. 

“What are you doing?” You question with a mischievous smile. His touch reignites your arousal tenfold. 

“I’m helping.”

“I don’t know if this is helping.” A breathy sigh slips past your lips as you melt against him. “We’re supposed to be showering.”

“Then tell me how to help.”

There is no hesitation when reaching for one of his hands, guiding down between your legs. Your legs part enough to give him room. “Touch me.” 

“Like this?” Felix questions, voice low in your ear. The pads of his fingers circle over your clit. “Can you come from this?”

You nod. It’s hard to stay focused when his other hand teases a nipple. He alternates to keep both of them peaked the best he can. The touch is more than enough. Felix just needs to keep it consistent. 

“Just like that, Lix. Nice and light.”

Yes, perfect. Your eyes flutter shut as stars dance across your vision. Now is when you realize how touch starved your body is. It’s embarrassing how quickly another orgasm snuck up on you. Perhaps it’s Felix himself. Everything is shiny and new with a different partner. 

Even now his hands pull away to ghost over your shuddering skin. You don’t want it to stop. Let this moment last forever. Felix feels the same judging how he’s hard again, cock pressed against your ass while rutting against you.

Felix is surprised when you turn around. The quick shove against the tile causes his back to arch away from the cold tile. He sounds amused when speaking. “I like this side of you.”

“Yeah, you like it when I’m a horny mess for you?”

The bold words shut him up. Instead of responding, his eyes follow your hands trail down his chest to his fully erect cock. Both your hands work up and down the length. Felix throws his head back against the shower wall. His gasps fill the small room while his hands claw at the tile. The confident composure is long gone as he pleads for you to continue. 

“Come on honey, give it to me.”

“Fuck, don’t stop.”

“Do you wanna come?”

“Yes.” Felix aggressively nods. “Whatever you want. I’ll do it. Just...”

Another kiss against his lips keeps him distracted from whatever words he wanted to say. Felix lets himself get caught in your web, forced to endure your touch. He mumbles a string of curse words against your lips. He’s close again with how his body tenses. 

“Please…”

A sinful moan vibrates through his vocal chords as his cock pulses under your touch. You glance down in time to watch cum erupt, spilling down onto your slowing hands. It shouldn’t be this attractive watching him come. The image will forever remain burned in your memories. 

Curiosity floods you, wondering how many rounds Felix can go. However, time is not on your side tonight. Instead, you let the hot water wash away evidence before turning back to the man behind you. 

Felix is still breathless after his high dies out. His glossed over eyes stare at you while trying to regulate his breathing. A playful smile finds its way on your face as he speaks. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Good.” You give him one last peck on the lips. “Now get cleaned up.”

You are dressed by the time Felix returns. He stops dead in his tracks when entering the room. His eyes trail over your body. You give yourself once over wondering what he appears to be hung up on. You look fine. The clothes fit. It’s a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. So you question him. “I didn’t want to put work clothes back on. Do you mind I borrowed these?”

“No. You just…look good in my clothes.”

“You’re cute. Focus, though. We have to meet with my parents in half an hour for dinner.”

As you go to pack your clothes in your bag, your hand touches something foreign at the very top. On further examination, it’s an envelope with your name scribbled on it. The handwriting is familiar, causing your stomach to lurch. Tucked inside are several hundreds in cash with a note. Yongbok was paying you back for when you helped him with bills. 

Dread washes over you. The envelope wasn’t inside earlier when you came over. There is no way he could sneak into the lockers in the backroom at work. Yongbok was here at some point. Here while you two were the only people in the house. He had to have heard you two. Even with the shower running, it could only muffle the moans to some extent. You let yourself be loud, knowing no one would be around. 

You scramble to find your phone. Quick to check your notifications. There are three unread messages.:

Yongbokkie 💙: Sorry! Was dead tired and left my phone at the shop by accident. I think the red was a great choice. 😏

Yongbokkie 💙: Why did you tease me like that? Now that’s all I’m gonna think about.  

Yongbokkie 💙: Are you home? 👀

You mumble under your breath. “Shit.”

Felix’s voice comes back from behind you. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“It’s nothing.”

You lock your phone, pondering scenarios. Did Felix know Yongbok was here? He was delayed in joining you in the shower. Surely, Felix would have said something, right? The brothers bicker every time when paths collide. 

A quick glance back at Felix reveals he’s pulling on a shirt with little thought. You know him. If he was hiding information, he would be squirming in his skin. He can’t even handle a little white lie to his friends. He sweated bullets when lying to Hyunjin about a surprise party last week. 

Then Yongbok was here without either of you knowing. 

If Yongbok says nothing, then you won’t bring it up. Frankly, you won’t attract attention to it. It’s the last of the money he owes you. There is no reason to contact him. If he asks, you will be honest and tell him you received the cash. Nothing more than that. 

The petty side of you tells you not to worry. So what if he heard you two? It’s a jab towards him. Felix said it himself, you are single. You can mess around with whoever you want. Too late to take it back now. All you can do is control your next actions. 

Felix’s happiness is hard to contain when it overflows. He vibrates where he stands when he cannot fidget. You have to admit it’s infectious, spreading a warmth inside of you when he gets like this. Nothing can bring him down.

He bounced around all day during work with his cheery demeanor. It’s no surprise when Felix tells you he wants to go out tonight after the store closes. He needs some kind of activity to burn off the excess energy. 

“We can go to Purgatory.”

The suggestion surprised you. “Felix, honey, it’s not your scene.”

“Why? Because it’s a bar?” Felix asks, already defensive. “I drink sometimes. Stop babying me.”

“I’m not babying you. We can go to a bar. Just not that one. Not where he is.”

“He shouldn’t stop me from doing things!”

“You know he’s at the shop or there with his friends. Don’t give them an opportunity to go after you.”

“You were the one that told me to not let them get to me!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean for you to stick your arm in a lion’s mouth.” 

This is out of character for him. More often than not, Felix avoids Yongbok. Especially with their past. Out of nowhere, he’s willing to go where all his friends are? If there was ever a moment you needed to recognize a red flag, it’s now.

“What are you doing?” You question with narrow eyes. “Is this your Sandy from Grease moment? Changing yourself for someone isn’t healthy, Felix.”

“I’m not! The drinks always look cool, and I want to try it. Please?” 

This is a bad idea. You repeat those words to yourself the entire time you drive Felix to the familiar bar. A horrible idea. Nothing good can come from this. Guess you are risking the chance of getting banned from the establishment tonight. Another round of questioning goes on in the car. Felix stands by his choice. He wants to go in with or without you. 

Felix stares in awe when entering the bar. He takes a moment to scan over the interior. Famous horror movie posters line the wall in lighted frames. You reach back to grab his hand to keep him close, weaving through the first set of tables and booths patterned with blood stains. The goal is to avoid the stairs up to the second half of the bar where the pool tables are. Yongbok and his group play every night. 

The night is young, meaning the bar is light on patrons. Yongbok is never here this early. You can down a drink before sneaking Felix out. Perhaps fate is on your side. There is an available table in the bar’s eyesight. You can monitor Felix while you order.

“Sit here and don’t move.” You say before bee-lining for the bar. 

Jisung has a warm smile on his face when you approach him. “What are you doing here? Yongbok isn’t even here yet.”

“I need two nightmares when you get the chance. Also, can you keep an eye on your boyfriend? I don’t want him to start trouble with me tonight.”

“He’s on a leash. Why are you asking?”

“I brought someone.”

Jisung’s brows knit together when taking the wad of cash from you. It’s when you motion behind you, he takes a side step to look past you. His eyes go wide when landing on Felix. “Yongbok is gonna be the problem, not Minho.”

“I’ll keep Yongbok under control. You just keep your man behaving, please.”

Jisung tries to reassure you when ringing up your order on the register. Minho is here mingling. Last he checked, Minho was in the middle of a dart competition with Jeongin. He should be busy for another twenty minutes. 

By the time you turn around, you spot the problem child. Jisung, in fact, doesn’t have Minho on a leash. News travels faster than the speed of light in the bar. Minho is already circling Felix like a hawk.  

When you approach, there is no hiding the bitterness in your voice. “What do you want, Minho?”

“Hey now, we’re just talking. Having a friendly conversation. Right?” Minho smiles, placing a hand on Felix’s shoulder. Felix is leaning away from the other. He doesn’t say a word. Lips in a thin, tight line. He’s shutting down the longer the other talks. “You don’t belong here, pretty boy. You got a curfew anyway. Don’t you?” 

Felix is trying to be the bigger person. The gears are shifting as he decides how he wants to handle the situation. His eyes dart over to yours before glancing down at the drinks you brought. You pray he’s receiving your mental message to not instigate. 

Minho keeps talking, “It’s okay. You can go. I’ll keep her company till Yongbok gets here. You can run along.”

“I can be here if I want to be.”

“Sure, tough guy. But let me tell you something. Mommy isn’t here to protect you if you stay. And I don’t mean her.”

“Minho, fuck off.”

Minho continues to ignore whatever words you spat at him. You aren’t part of this conversation. He’s too determined to keep pushing and prodding at Felix. Felix is struggling to bite his tongue. Now beginning to toy with the glass in front of him. He’s handling Minho far better than you are. It’s only a matter of time till Felix snaps back. Perhaps the move here is to just leave. Let Minho have this win and before he escalates the situation. 

Minho’s voice lowers when he leans closer to Felix. “I could bet money she thinks of him when she fucks you. Perks of you looking the same.” 

The smile on Minho’s face only grows when he sees Felix deadpan. Before you can react, the contents of Felix’s drink connects with Minho’s face, sending the other back sputtering in surprise. You raise from your seat, cursing Felix. This is the last thing that needs to happen. 

“Oh, you little shit.” Minho recovers immediately. “Your balls finally drop?”

This is the reaction Minho wanted. He was looking for an excuse to fight Felix and he walked right into it. Felix stands, keeping his ground as Minho invades his personal space. “Well, come on. Show me what you got, lover boy.”

“You’re not worth it.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to play the all mighty card.”

Minho jabs Felix square in the chest. The shove catches him off guard, causing him to stumble backwards. Felix cannot keep his balance, tripping over his chair. It’s hard to watch when he falls, the back of his head hitting a corner of a nearby table. Minho is quick, reaching for Felix to haul him back on his feet. 

“Minho! Stop!” You shout, closing the distance. 

Unfortunately, even with all your strength, you can’t seem to pull Minho away. To your surprise, Yongbok appears, prying you away from Minho. He forces you behind him before grabbing fistfuls of Minho’s shirt to pull him off Felix with ease. Minho whips around, face murderous when he sees Yongbok of all people stopping him. He’s in Yongbok’s personal space questioning the other.

“I don’t care what he did. You don’t fucking touch my brother.” Yongbok spats, refusing to back down. 

For the first time, Yongbok has defended Felix against his friends. As much as you would love to witness the moment, you need to get Felix out of here. Staff of the bar have caught on. It won’t be long till security shows up. You help Felix up off the ground while their bickering distracts the pair. His well-being is your only concern. Yongbok can handle himself. 

A shaky hand of Felix’s rises to check on the back of his head. Thankfully, there is no blood. Most likely a nasty bump and a gnarly headache in his future. You can look once it’s safe. The fight-or-flight response kicks in. You need to get out of here. With Felix right in your grip, you lead him out of the bar. He doesn’t say a word, keeping his head down while glued to your hip. 

The adrenaline keeps you on edge the entire drive home. Your palms sweat against the steering wheel as your thoughts race. Yongbok can do damage control. Minho won’t come after Felix. He’s too busy laughing at the entire ordeal among the group of friends. 

When you pull into your driveway, another vehicle stops at the curb. It’s Yongbok. He’s alone. Still upset, judging by the way he calls your name. You don’t answer, too focused on getting Felix inside. 

Felix plops down in a chair in the kitchen, continuing to sulk. His voice is soft. “You were right.” 

“Shut up, Felix.” You say while digging for an ice pack in the freezer. You reach for a nearby towel to wrap it up. He groans, feeling the coldness against his head. “Use this to help the swelling.”

“He’s not a helpless child. Don’t coddle him.”

You glance over to see Yongbok with a nasty glare on his face. He motions towards the living room before dipping out of the room. You heave a sigh, trying to prepare for the conversation about to happen. Felix appears to be in decent shape. No dizziness or lightheadedness when you question him. He should be fine to leave alone for a few moments. 

When you enter the living room, Yongbok is leaning against the wall near the front door. He’s still fuming. The heat of his anger almost radiated off of him like the sun. You fidget with your hands as you close the distance. 

“Thank you for helping him.”

“Why the fuck would you let him come with you?”

“I didn’t want to. I told him it was a bad idea but…”

“But what?” Yongbok cuts you off. Not even giving you the chance to explain yourself. The condescending remark sparks your temper the more he talks. “Not your smartest move, babe.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t enable Minho.”

“I don’t fucking enable him.”

“Then what was that? Huh?” You bark back with your own venom. Unable to hold back your anger. “Him defending your so-called honor? He’s a piece of shit, Yongbok.”

“You keep him out of that bar and I’ll worry about my friends.” 

Yongbok pushes off the wall to leave. Before he gets the chance, you block his way to keep him in front of you. There is a single question doing laps in your brain that you need the answer to. Especially after Yongbok helped Felix. 

“Why won’t you fix your relationship with him? Hm? You clearly care.”

“He has you. That’s all he needs.”

“He needs his brother. This is a chance to fix things with him. You’re gonna lose him forever if you’re not careful. I know you don’t want that.”

“It’s not that simple.” 

“Why not?”

“Do you know how hard it is? Being in his shadow? No matter what I do, it’s not good enough. It’ll never be enough.” He huffs out a laugh almost in disbelief at his own words. As if what he’s explaining is common knowledge that only a fool wouldn’t understand.

“He’s the perfect son. Hell, the perfect boyfriend, too. Everyone wants you to be with him. Everyone expects the two of you to ride off in the sunset. Have that damn fairytale wedding he’s been dreaming about since he was fucking ten.” Yongbok shakes his head, voice lower, sounding defeated. “He doesn’t even have to try. It’ll just happen. Sorry if it gets under my skin.”

“Yongbok, what the hell are you talking about?”

“He gets you. He doesn’t need me.”

“Bokkie…” Your voice trails off when you go to reach for him. 

Yongbok knocks your hand away before it can touch him. “Stop. Just go be with him like you always are.”

The front door slams shut with enough force to be heard through the house. Part of you wants to chase after Yongbok. Though it’s a losing battle when he’s upset. He shuts down till he cools off or gets a couple beers in him. You can wait a few hours to send a message his way to see how he’s doing. Currently, you have the other brother to worry about. 

Felix is where you left him when you come back into the kitchen. His eyes shoot to the floor while holding the ice pack to his head. Reminds you of a kicked puppy afraid to get a scolding. 

“How’s the pain?” You question. 

He shrugs in response. “Not as bad as it was. I’ll be okay.”

“Let me grab something to take the edge off.”

Felix’s hand flies up to grab your wrist. His voice a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Was it everything you expected it to be?”

“I just want to be what you want,” Felix sounds dejected. 

Yup, there it is. The core reason for all of today’s trouble. Felix denied the behavior earlier, but you know he was trying to prove himself. If not to you, to Yongbok. Over the years, these two never change. Some dumb pissing contest to influence your opinion on them. 

“I like you the way you are. Why would I want you to change?”

“That’s not true.” Felix’s eyes are watery. He’s fighting to not cry, voice cracking. “Something is clearly wrong with me. If I was good enough, you wouldn’t go running to him.”

“Lixie…”

“He just drags you along like a toy when you can be with someone that loves you. I’m here. Right here.” Felix sounds so broken, so hurt. You hate seeing him upset. It’s a knife to the chest the more he speaks. “Why? Why not me? It hurts. I want you and I can’t have you. What am I doing wrong?”

You slide into the seat next to him. “Nothing. Honey, you’ve done nothing wrong. You deserve someone better. I don’t deserve your love.”

“Don’t say that! That makes it worse.” Felix says, sinking further into himself. “I got a taste of happiness with you. How am I supposed to move on?”

“Lix…”

“Normal friends don’t sleep next to each other.” Felix’s tone shifts. The familiar smile you are used to seeing is long gone. A distant memory now replaced with a quivering lip. He rushes his words out before he crumbles. “They don’t cuddle, they don’t flirt like we do, and they sure as hell don’t lick brownie batter off fingers!”

He’s right. You can’t help nodding. You opened the door to something more. Then you immediately shut it down after feeling guilty. You crushed Felix’s hopes by not considering the consequences. 

“Lix, I’m sorry. I never meant to give you false hope. I shouldn’t have been selfish with you.”

“Do you regret it? Regret sleeping with me? Be honest.”

“No. I thought I would. But I don’t. Not at all.”

“Why won’t you take this risk with me?” Felix moves closer, pleading with you. “I need one chance. One chance to show you how much I love you.”

“Felix, I need time, okay? Please. I’m sorry for all of this. I’m not ready for a relationship. Let’s get through these couple of months and get settled in our new place. Then we can do this the right way. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. I can do that.” He replies, using the back of his hand to wipe away at the tears that have formed. “I’ve waited this long.”

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it. It’ll be a fresh start. We can go do all the cute couple things like normal people.”

You excuse yourself under the guise of getting him some painkillers. You need a minute to breathe before the walls cave in and crush you. There is solace once in a locked bathroom. All your emotions overflow. It hits like a wave, crashing against you. You could have avoided this mess. The fear of losing both of the important people in your life is real. You need to collect yourself, do damage control, and pray that you still have a friend after this. 

Now is the time to decide what you want. To decide what the game plan is. Foremost, Felix is the priority. The last week with him brought joy to you. Made you feel loved. Felix can give you the healthy relationship you crave. He can give you the relationship that Yongbok won’t and cannot give. 

Go on, admit to yourself that Felix is what you want. It’s better than chasing after Yongbok. Though you want friendship with Yongbok. Or at the very least, end on good terms. When you leave for college, you will be a couple hours away. Fewer chances to see each other, meaning time will heal wounds. Sleeping with someone’s brother isn’t exactly easy to forgive. Hell, you don’t even know if he caught on to what happened yesterday. 

Regardless, the plan is simple the more you think about it. Keep your distance from Yongbok. Just for now, keep your distance and let the dust settle. Yongbok will get wrapped up in work or his friends and forget tonight even happened. He’ll go back to his sporadic contact, leaving you to focus on preparing for the move. Get over him. It’ll help whatever feelings dissipate. This will give time for yourself so you don’t go head first into a rebound with Felix. You want to give Felix a fair chance but only in a better mindset. Now you just need to stick with it.

Gemini [coming soon] [preview]

Halloween is supposed to be fun. A holiday of scares, dressing up, movie marathons, and eating an exorbitant amount of candy. That was the plan for today. Fate, however, wanted to play different cards for you. First, your plans made a week ago with Felix fell through. He was on vacation to go visit some of his relatives. He tried to stay home, but you encouraged him to go. Everyone deserves time to see their family when able to. You would be fine a few days apart. Then last night, your parents got news about your grandpa. His health was on the decline after a sudden stroke and affairs needed to be settled. Your parents left in a rush this morning, getting on the first plane out of state. Unfortunately, it left you home alone waiting for updates. 

To stay distracted, you slipped on the costume you bought. A cliche angel outfit that was far more skimpy than it should have been. The mirror selfies you sent Felix earned you several lines of key smashing and heart eye emojis. So not a complete waste of money. It was a shame he couldn’t witness the sight in person. You would love to see the flushed cheeks and stumbling over his words.

The doorbell ringing pulls you from your thoughts. There is a bowl of candy by the door for you to hand out to kids. You just need the motivation to get up from the living room couch. Maybe the smiles from some cute kids dressed up will make you feel better. Even for a moment. It’s a struggle, but you stand. Whoever is outside is persistent, still ringing the bell by the time you get to the door. 

To your surprise, it’s Yongbok who is standing on your porch. A smile creeps onto his face while his eyes roam your body. “Are you wearing that for me?”

You blink twice in disbelief. Yongbok is here. Physically in front of you after two weeks of no contact. He’s okay and safe. Relief washes over you. It’s not Felix, but he’s just as good. Far better than an empty house. 

You rush forward, crashing yourself into his embrace with enough force it causes him to step back with a chuckle. You don’t care, too focused on securing your arms around his middle to keep him close. The smell of cologne and laundry softener lingering on his clothes hits you. It’s a mesh of what you know is Yongbok, even with your eyes crammed shut. It’s comfort in the simplest form. 

Yongbok wraps his arms around you to keep you close, voice low. “Felix called me. Said he wasn’t able to be here to check on you. You don’t deserve to suffer alone.”

Of course Felix would watch out for you. The two hour long phone call last night comprised your waves of crying, with Felix trying to console you. There wasn’t anything you could do and nothing he could do while being miles away.

You mumble against Yongbok’s shoulder. “Can we go somewhere? I just want to drink and forget for a minute.”

“Is that what you want? We can go grab a bite to eat instead.” Yongbok pulls away, searching for confirmation. His thumb brushes away the tears welling up on your lash line. There is a pout on your lips when you shake your head. He nods, understanding before providing a suggestion. “Minho’s having a party.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“It’s a house party, babe. If you see him, it’ll be brief. Jisung is keeping him busy. All the liquor you could want.”

Tonight is not the night to deal with Minho’s attitude. Though the free alcohol is nice. Even better if at Minho’s expense. A house party near the college campus leads to plenty of people. So there is truth behind Yongbok’s words. You might get away with not running into Minho. Plus, if you get wasted tonight, Yongbok’s apartment is a short walk, meaning you don’t have to come back home. 

“I also came prepared.” Yongbok says while pulling out a headband from his back pocket. It has two plastic devil horns attached. He appears pleased with himself once securing them onto his head. 

“Where the hell did you get those?” 

“Raided Felix’s closet. I’m pretty sure these are the same ones from when he was ten. But I fit in with you. Don’t you think? Who better to corrupt you?”

That harmless question runs deeper than it should. Is Yongbok’s influence on you corrupt? Some people in your life worry, warning you to keep him at arm’s distance away, but you know Yongbok better than anyone. There is no controlling behavior that limits you from doing the things you want to do. Nothing feels wrong with him. He’s not trying to hurt you. There is safety in Yongbok. If he was a bad person, there would be noticeable red flags. You are the one that follows like a lost puppy. It’s not his doing. You cling to him because you miss him. His only fault is his shitty ability to stay in touch. These thoughts continue to run through your mind on the drive to your destination. 

The street Minho lives on has parked cars lining both sides of the street. Yongbok gets lucky with his spot, only a few houses down. With his hand in yours, he leads you to the house. Even with the short length of your dress you are wearing, it’s a lot more than several people here. That’s half the fun of Halloween, you think. A day of putting on a mask that’s not your normal self. As long as no one gets hurt, there is no harm. If these people feel comfortable in their skin, all the power to them and their costumes. Hell, that’s why you purchased yours. 

The further you travel into the house, the more crammed it is with buzzed people. Loud music pours out of a sound system in the living room where an intense game of beer pong takes place. The cheers nearly drown out the music. While people watching you do spot Minho. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch in a dress. Jisung is next to him in a suit. Bonnie and Clyde from what Yongbok whispers into your ear. If Minho wasn’t a jerk, you would consider the couple’s outfit cute. 

Yongbok offers a wave towards Minho before pulling you out of the room towards the kitchen. To your relief, there are fewer bodies in here than half the house. Surprising with the mess of all the alcohol and food being sprawled out for the taking. There are enough plastic cups to stack straight to the moon. He avoids it all by going for a cabinet tucked away in a corner. He’s shoulder deep digging around. You raise an eyebrow at the bottle of flavored vodka he pulls out. 

Yongbok shrugs before reaching into another cabinet for clean glasses. “He owes me.”

It’s no skin off your back. Better Yongbok to drink Minho’s stash than someone else. It’s the risk of a house party you figure. You push the consequences away from your mind, staying glued to Yongbok as he heads towards the back of the house. A push on the backdoor leads you out into the warm fall weather. The backyard is scarce of people minus a handful of small groups too invested in their own conversations. Yongbok scans the area before settling on the fire pit. The couches surrounding the lit fire are empty, allowing you a conversation at normal volume away from strangers. 

There is silence between you both while Yongbok pours a generous amount of alcohol into each glass. You prefer a mixed drink just based on preference, yet the stress of the day has you ready to drink straight from the bottle if he would let you. 

“Did you want to talk about it?” Yongbok says while offering a glass. 

“What do you think?”

“Okay. I’ll…” Yongbok’s words trail off, consumed by you swallowing the alcohol as quickly as you can. Tastes awful while burning like battery acid on the way down your throat to an empty stomach. You know the decision will haunt you. None of it matters. Not even the headache you will be nursing later. All that matters is the buzz. When Yongbok notices your attempt to reach for the bottle, he swipes it away to keep out of reach. “Easy baby. You gotta pace yourself. You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“I just want to be drunk.”

“Let it hit first. Then you can have more. Whatever you’re going through isn’t that serious.”

“I thought you were the fun one.” You scoff in annoyance, biting back the urge to call him a killjoy. Or if you wanted to rile him up, you would call him Felix. Nothing got under his skin more than that. You used said ammo only a handful of times over the years of knowing him. It was effective each time. You choose not to. Yongbok came to your rescue tonight. Instead, you use the opportunity to get answers on other matters. “Speaking of where the hell have you been?”

“I was taking care of a couple of things.”

“You always say that shit. What were you doing?”

“I was working to get cash together. I couldn’t pay the phone bill till last night.” Yongbok takes a sip. A nose scrunch paired with a small hiss leaves him at the taste. He’s never been one for vodka. “Maybe it was fate. I get service and the first that happens is Felix blowing up my phone.”

For the first time, his vague answer doesn’t reassure you. You always take his words to heart because you trust him. You never pry, you assume Yongbok is being honest. Jisung has told you on multiple occasions Yongbok is at work or with the guys drinking. There isn’t much variety past that. Even with the lack of communication, he could come visit you at work or your house. He’s not banned, only barred from staying the night. 

“You didn’t think to stop by? Let me know that you’re okay? If you need help, you can ask me.”

“I don’t want you to worry. It’s easier if you don’t see me at my lows.”

“No contact for two weeks is panic-inducing if you didn’t know, asshole.”

Without missing a beat, Yongbok is snarky right back to you. “Yeah, and how many times have I told you not to worry about me? I’m a big boy.”

“Well, you haven’t had the best track record. I’m always waiting for either the call about you being arrested again or death.”

“Where’s your faith in me? Damn.”

Silence falls between you two. All you can do is shake your head as the anger bubbles in you. You want better communication. That’s not an absurd request. Yongbok comes back from his reclusiveness with the same bullshit excuses. He preaches things are changing for the better. That he will stay in touch this time. Then nothing is different. It’s washed and repeated every single time with the same outcome. Perhaps those are red flags and you choose to ignore them. Or, as you take a jab at yourself, once again you are overreacting and selfish with Yongbok. There is a line between his effort and asking too much of him. It’s not an entitlement to ask the bare minimum, right?

You choose to steal Yongbok’s glass to down the remaining vodka, ready to get to the part of the night where the fuzziness hits you. You don’t want to be upset anymore. Not at him or yourself. 

“Come here. Let’s not do this tonight. You already had a rough day.” Yongbok says while taking the empty glasses away from you before leaving them on the table. You allow him to take hold of your hands as you scoot closer to him. Your eyes are avoiding him, focused on the way his thumb runs over the back of your hand to offer reassurance. At some point, he got a new tattoo on this knuckle. You get caught up in the small design, almost missing him speaking again. “I’m sorry, okay? I hate borrowing money from you. Took me months to pay you back last time. Things are smoothing out. I’ll be more consistent from now on.”

“Do you promise?”

“Hey, why are you acting like we don’t have all the time in the world?”

“We don’t.” 

Your voice sounds small and hurt. There is no hiding your feelings. Still, you don’t clarify even when Yongbok pries for an answer. There is a lot on your plate right now. Not only your grandpa but other issues as well. The load is heavy, a lot at once. You are struggling to hold it together, trying to not let it clatter to the floor in a mess. 

There is confusion written on Yongbok’s face when he moves to be in your line of sight. You instigated the conversation yet you are realizing the last thing you need is any heavy topics tonight. So you close your eyes and let it go with a deep breath. Everything can wait till morning. You wanted one night, just one night of peace. Yongbok has provided that space for you before. He gloats about it half the time. Besides, you both know if you want to talk about problems in your life, you talk to Felix. 

Your eyes open when Yongbok’s fingers find your chin to tilt your face towards his. His eyes are searching yours. Your throat tightens in response to nerves. That urge to cry is there again as tears build on your lash line. You pray Yongbok doesn’t continue to prod for an answer. You may fall apart on him. All you want is for him to do what he does best: be a distraction. 

Before he gets the chance to speak, you lean forward to press your lips against his own. The kiss is soft. Yongbok leaves you in control, not asking for more. Just to provide comfort. He matches the energy, and it’s enough to take the edge off.

Yongbok still looks concerned when you pull away, voice softer now. “Baby, what is bugging you? You got all these thoughts in your pretty head plaguing you. You can tell me anything.”

“I can’t. Not right now.”

“I won’t push. Don’t bottle it up forever. You taught me that.”

You nod. He is right. The words revealing what your stress is about will never come out tonight. Even if he pried till you broke down. There is news you need to tell Yongbok, yet your heart stings at the thought. Instead, you will wait a few days till Felix is back and come up with a game plan, or till Felix is fed up with you and tells you to send a damn text message. Might not be the worst idea since communicating face to face isn’t working. 

You crawl into the personal space of Yongbok. Now in his lap, knees on either side of his hips. The short dress has ridden up your thighs. There is no actual concern about the other people lounging in the backyard. You don’t care if they see you like this. All they are is a haze in the background. At this moment, they don’t exist. You don’t know them, never will see them again. All that matters is Yongbok giving you his undivided attention. 

Yongbok’s hands are warm against you as he caresses your hips. It’s soothing. Sends a buzz of excitement through you. It’s baffling how a simple touch leaves you comforted better than anything else has today. However, you are grateful for it. You want Yongbok to peel all of your tension away, leaving you with peace. 

Your hands fidget with the collar of his jacket. There is a look of feigned innocence on your face as you speak. “You look good tonight.”

“We just got here. You can’t be doing this to me.”

“Why not? I want to.”

“I think you’re hurting and you’re looking for any distraction you can get.”

Obviously, you think, wanting to call him out. That’s what is happening, why he picked you up, and why you are sitting here at Minho’s house, of all places. You love that he is showing concern, but right now you want Yongbok to read the situation differently. There is a pout on your lips. “And you’re supposed to be helping.”

“I just don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“It’s my decision. No one is forcing me to do anything.” 

Yongbok’s eyes follow one of your hands, moving down the length of his chest to palm at his crotch. He sharply inhales, hips shifting against your hand, rutting up against you. His gaze changes. It’s hungry to match your own. It never takes much to rile him up. “We could go upstairs. Fuck on Minho’s bed to piss him off.”

“Tempting. Very tempting, but I wouldn’t do that to Jisung.”

“Damn you and good conscience.” He says before leaning forward to place soft kisses on your neck. The sensation is enough to leave you melting on the spot. It’s hard to concentrate, far too touch starved to think of anything else. Your head falls back to expose more of yourself to him as you sigh, basking in the attention. “Someone has to be the voice of reason.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Be a little bad.”

“I learned my lesson last time.”

Yongbok’s breath tickles your skin when he scoffs. His hold tightens around you as he goes back to a mix of kisses and light nips against your skin. Small moans slip out of you while your nails dig into the jacket he’s wearing. Once he finds the familiar sensitive spot at the base of your neck, he wetly sucks a mark onto your skin. 

“Bokkie…” Your words trail off as you grab a fistful of his hair to pull him away. He stares with curiosity, wondering why you have stopped him. There is a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. The only thought you have is to kiss and bite his lips till they’re bruised. It can’t happen out here, because you will want more of him. The longer he winds you up, the more convincing his earlier suggestion will be. “Get me out of here.”

“Whatever you want.”

There is something gratifying when Yongbok is worked up. His tunnel vision is directed solely at you and you alone. The second he can shut the front door, he’s attached to you. His hands are on your hips as he guides you to the nearest wall he can reach, not even leaving the entryway. His body is pressed right against yours, leaving no space between you two. The sweet kisses from before are gone. This time as passionate as he wants with finally having privacy. 

You don’t even care for how the costume’s wings dig into your back. Barely an annoyance when helping Yongbok out of his jacket. He doesn’t care if it lands a few feet from him, too invested in pressing his tongue between your parted lips. 

Yongbok kisses as if he loves you. Loves you so much that the last two weeks apart have been just as rough on him as they were for you. Though the love word has never been discussed. The arrangement has always been harmless, fooling around with no strings attached. If there is no commitment, there are no consequences. The both of you walking away in the morning, platonic as ever. Or that’s what you are convinced happens, even if your fluttering heart is trying to tell you otherwise. 

Both of Yongbok’s hands travel to your ass, causing you to gasp. He squeezes and kneads, enjoying the way you squirm against him. He pulls away with a wide smile. “When are you gonna let me have a piece of this?”

“When I think you’ve earned it.”

“Good thing I love trying.”

Yongbok falls to his knees in front of you. His hands slip under your short dress to pull your underwear down. The thin material pools around your ankles, easy to step out of and widen your stance for Yongbok to settle between your thighs. Excitement from the anticipation pools in your gut. All that longing for his touch since leaving Minho’s place is over now that you finally have Yongbok where you want him. 

A small moan leaves you when Yongbok’s fingers find you folds. He gently runs over your slit before slipping a finger with little resistance. The smile was long gone, now replaced with a smug look when you make eye contact. “You’re practically dripping. You’re never this wet.”

“It’s you. Missed you.”

Yongbok is pleased with your admittance, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. He leans forward to prod at your clit with his tongue. It’s easy to get caught up in the pleasure with how determined he is to make you feel good. He doesn’t tease tonight. It’s not the time or place. You asked for the distraction and he’ll provide it. Yongbok knows your body inside and out. He knows it well. As he should after the amount of times you have found yourself in this position. He was your first time and continues to be the only one you go to for sex. You want him, all of him. From his mouth, hands, and cock. The want is enough to make you delirious.  

“Need you Bokkie.”

“You have me. You can have my cock after you come for me.”

Yongbok continues his actions. Your hips rock against his face. Your hands tangling themselves in his long dark hair to keep him pressed against you. Yongbok moans at the tight hold, his eyes shutting in content. He thrives in such intimate moments. It’s a power trip for him. No one else gets this opportunity to make you feel this good. Plus, he knows there isn’t a thought in your mind. Just focused on what’s happening. Regardless, there are no plans to stop, unless you tell him it’s too much.

You never want him to.

His tongue flicks across your clit with precision while slipping a second finger inside of you to work in and out. Yongbok always takes the time to prepare you. He still tries even when the two of you barely have time to fool around. It matters to him; you have no reason to deny him. Gladly being greedy and letting him. 

Yongbok sucks on your clit intent now. He knows the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. The way you have tense up against the wall, leading to your thighs trembling with the intensity when it peaks. Yongbok lets out a satisfied moan against you, fingers slipping away so he can press himself as close as possible against your pussy. His tongue laps up all that your body offers him, giving you time to bask in the glow from the rush. 

Finally, you release your hold on him, hands falling to your sides to press against the wall to support your weak legs. Yongbok is gasping as he sits back on his knees. Saliva and your wetness coats his face. He looks fucked out. Pupils blown wide with desire. He’s waiting, waiting for command. You can already hear him, knowing what he would say. Whatever you want, he’ll do it. Just say the words. 

“I’m gonna ride your cock till you’re all I can think about.

“Oh, you are more than welcome to, babe. Bedroom first.”

The short walk to Yongbok’s bedroom takes longer than it normally does. Along the way, you shed the flimsy angel wings. Yongbok still doesn’t separate more than he needs to when helping you out of your clothes. The cold air is enough to send a shiver up your spine. His hands running up and down your body soothe the goosebumps forming. 

With a little guidance from you, Yongbok stumbles back to sit on the edge of his bed. He’s quick to kick off his shoes before sliding up the bedding. You follow, straddling his waist. The denim of his jeans is rough against your skin as you grind down on the straining erection. There is something almost sinful about getting to enjoy Yongbok like this. He’s breathtaking and makes even prettier noises. You grind again, earning you another beautiful low groan. Hopefully, he aches with need. You crave to have him just as desperate. 

Your fingers find the base hem of his shirt, pulling up and off his body. Yongbok discards his shirt to the side before he lays down, letting you take him in. Your fingers trace over the tattoos decorating his collar bones. He’s had the pieces for a while now. A part of a chest piece he’s getting. There are fresh additions to him not in the shape of a tattoo. Your fingers trail further down, avoiding the metal jewelry pierced through his nipples. “When did you get these?”

“It’s been a bit. We’ve been having quickies so haven’t had the time to show you. You can touch them.”

“Are you sure? Don’t they take a while to heal?”

“Yeah.” Yongbok reaches for your hands, bringing them to his nipples. “I’ve had them for months now. Trust me. If I’m telling you to touch, it’s okay.”

“I’ll avoid them for now. You can manage one night without being a pain slut.”

“You have no room to talk, babe. Last time you were here, you begged for me to bite you harder.”

“I like it when you mark me up.”

Yongbok raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? Enjoy reminiscing about what I do to you?”

“Always,” you say with a cheeky smile. Your hands travel down Yongbok’s chest, down to his toned stomach, to the front of his jeans. With the button and zipper undone, you are closer to what you want. “Helps me get off when you’re not around.”

“God, do you remember when we snuck into that house of mirrors at the fair? I fucked you stupid and you could barely walk.”

“Never again. We almost got caught!”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on ripping my jeans on that stupid fence. Fuck.”

A laugh burst out of you at the memory. You had cleared the hole in the fence without a problem. He did not, tearing a sizable hole. Yongbok tries to present himself as suave and collected. Though he’s human and has moments of klutziness. It’s cute even if he was embarrassed. Perhaps it keeps him humble.

Once collected, you raise yourself enough to help Yongbok slip his clothing down his thighs. His cock is hard against his stomach as he settles. As much as you enjoyed the experience, you would never let him convince you to be that foolish again. One close call is more than enough to scare you. 

“You’re nothing but bad luck. I gotta avoid you so you don’t pass it to me.”

“Too late, baby. You’re wrapped around my finger and I ain’t letting go.” Yongbok hisses through gritted teeth at the harsh squeeze from your hands around his sensitive cock. His smile only grows. “You know it’s true. If only you knew what you do to me.”

“I know. I can feel it right now. Cock rock hard and all for me.”

“Only for you. Fucking use me.”

With that, you happily shift forward to guide his cock to your dripping hole. The stretch of Yongbok’s cock is better than his fingers ever are as you sink down to take all of him. It’s a selfish thought, but his cock feels like a dream come true as you rock your hips. A perfect fit that was made for you alone. Made to touch all your sensitive spots with ease. 

Your hands cling to his headboard for support as you set your pace. You want to take your time. Drag tonight out for as long as you physically can. Your mind blanks while getting lost in the haze of movements. Perhaps it’s the alcohol in your system hitting or it’s finally being able to forget the rest of the world for this moment. Nothing else that matters other than being with Yongbok. Whatever issues life plagued you with are now long gone.  

It’s why you find yourself here so often. He is your salvation. The bubble that surrounds you to let you forget responsibility. The sex is a coping mechanism that you refuse to believe is anything but good because it feels so right. It’s pure bliss. You will continue to find peace here if it means you can breathe.

Perhaps that’s why Yongbok is so addicting. He’s much like a drug. Temporary freedom that gradually lets you back down to reality. By the time he wears you out, you have forgotten what caused you to run to Yongbok. Is it unhealthy? Debatable. Normal people work through their problems. Till you are forced to, you will continue to fuck around with the handsome man under you. Yongbok will let you. 

“Look at me, baby. Look at me.” 

You didn’t even realize your eyes had shut till you opened them to glance down. Yongbok always enjoys eye contact. It’s his way of forcing you to acknowledge it’s him who is the one that brings you this pleasure. The one that learns with you. He fulfills all your desires when wanting to try new things. He is the one you are safe enough to give control to. Not once over the last year has been self-centered. He lets you call the shots. Make sure you come first and as often as you want. Even now, his hands are on your hips yet you move as fast as you want. However rough you want. There is an occasional buck up from Yongbok when he meets you halfway, though it doesn’t deter you. 

“God, so fucking beautiful when you ride my cock.”

A small whine escapes you when you pick up speed. His words always affect you in two ways. One, by sending a rush of satisfaction to your brain. The dopamine rewards you for making him feel just as good as you do. Then second, a buzz in your core that’s ready to shoot pleasure through you. 

The desperation in your voice even surprises you when you speak. “Bokkie, please.” 

“You don’t have to beg, baby. Just come.” Yongbok’s fingers ghost over your skin down to your clit. His thumb circles the bundle of nerves knowing it's what you need for that final push over the edge. “Keep those pretty eyes on me. Don’t look away.”

You follow the command, too close to risk him stopping even if you know he won’t. His brown eyes stare up at you with awe. As if you are some divine being in front of him. An old phrase Yongbok used to say runs through your mind. The closest to heaven he’ll ever get. It feels that way with every orgasm he brings you. 

His own face contorts in a look of pleasure as you ride out your high that finally peaks. You feel it too, the way your walls clench around his cock. There is notably more wetness from your arousal that continues to form. Simply extra fuel to the fire of your desire. All of you crave more of him. It’s never enough, you think. Even if all of your senses are wrapped up in everything that’s him, you need more. 

If only your body could keep up with the demand. Yongbok understands once your hips slow. It’s all so sudden when he pushes off the bed to sit up. His arms snake around you and in a blink you find yourself on your back, head hitting the pillows as Yongbok hovers over you. 

“Yongbokkie…”

“I know, baby. Just a little more. I’m close.”

You cling to him, a thin layer of sweat on both of you. Your own heartbeat is pounding almost enough to burst out of you. It baffles you how he appears to be put together, as you can’t seem to ground yourself from all the sensations. 

“One more, baby.” Yongbok smiles down at you in response as your quick breaths turn into little gasps from the force of his thrusts. He knows another orgasm is on your horizon, especially with how sensitive you have become. It doesn’t deter him from sneaking a hand between you to tease your sensitive clit again. “Give me that last one. I know you can.”

It’s nearly on cue when another orgasm courses through you, trapping the words you want to say in your throat. Your nails dig into his soft flesh, earning a guttural moan from him. More words of praise spill from Yongbok’s lips. He’s nearly there now. Movements desperate to reach that high. 

Yongbok curses when he comes. Hips stuttering as his seed paints your walls. Your own content smile is on your face when you pull him down for a kiss. He’s just as breathless, panting against your lips. His arms give out, forcing all his weight on you, successfully pinning you under him. You don’t mind. This is a common occurrence. Especially on nights when both of you are far too drunk from a night of partying.

Yongbok won’t admit it, but he likes the moment of intimacy. Rests his head on your chest, listening to your heart calm down while his cock softens inside of you. He has fallen asleep on more than one occasion with your hand running through his hair. 

It’s you that nearly dozes off. Your eyes snap open when Yongbok finally moves. He’s gentle when pulling away. His voice was a low whisper. “I’m gonna get a drink. I’ll be right back. Do you need anything?”

You shake your head, more focused on getting under the covers. The alcohol in your system mixed with the drained energy from the events of today has left you exhausted. All you want right now is to sleep. Your eyelids feel heavy, beyond ready to welcome to pass out. 

Yongbok is quiet as a church mouse once he returns. The bed sinks when he slips under the blankets. His arm snakes around your middle, pulling you to him. He presses a light kiss against your shoulder. You don’t stir, figuring he will settle to sleep. He doesn’t, forehead resting against your shoulder blade. The sigh that leaves him sounds hopeless. Almost enough for you to cave on the sleeping facade to ask about his well-being. Then you hear it. Words never spoken to you before. Three words you were convinced Yongbok didn’t have in his vocabulary. Or at the very least, lack the ability to string the three words together. It nearly stops your heart. 

“I love you.”

It takes every ounce of your strength to not react to his words. To keep pretending you’re asleep. Those three words change everything. It’s no longer fooling around, no longer a friend with benefits arrangement, no longer consequence free if there are emotions attached.

Finally, you hear the words you secretly longed to hear. All the times you have said it to him without hearing it back. All the times Yongbok stared at you with the urge to speak, but never did. You had given up on the idea of romance with Yongbok. Your stomach sinks in shock. He did not mean for this confession to be heard. Or you figure if he can’t say the words to your face. At least not yet. So maybe all the good progress Yongbok is making means he really is turning his life around. He knows what he wants now. 

Though it may be too late. Especially with the big changes coming your way. 

Gemini: Felix

Gemini [coming soon] [preview]

As Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender opened his freezer to pull out a frosty bottle of liquor, you felt at peace. Despite the clutter here and there, his apartment managed to radiate the same comfort and warmth as the man himself. 

Following a heartfelt apology for the mess - along with an explanation, despite your insistence that you didn’t mind the few things he’d left out, that he simply wasn’t expecting company - Felix had given you what he referred to as “the grand tour.” 

Felix had given a remarkable amount of attention to detail whilst showing you around, as if you were staying longer than just a night, and made sure to show you where every single thing you could possibly need would be located. He’d even shown you how to operate his game consoles with a reasoning of, “Just in case you’re awake after I am,” and a bright smile.

“You could be a realtor, if you ever get bored of tending bar,” you mused, pulling yourself from the memory of your tour before casting Felix a teasing smile. He chuckled before shaking his head and pouring a shot in two of the glasses you’d made for him.

“I don’t know about that,” he said with a comedic level of wariness, drawing out the words as he tucked away the only unused part of your gift away in the cupboard, “But I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Your gaze was drawn to the pale blue in the midst of clear glass as your gift to Felix bumped against crystal, a tinge of self-consciousness settling in your thoughts at the absolute contrast to the things he’d already owned. He didn’t seem to mind, though, the corners of his lips remaining curved upwards in a content smile as he shut the cupboard. “Here,” Felix’s voice broke through the train of thought you’d been spiraling down, the squeak of ceramic against granite accompanying the sliding of the minty green cup to you.

“Thanks.” You managed, tearing your eyes from one out-of-place little shot glass to another, taking it into both of your hands despite its size. “What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t have a celebratory drink in honor of your victory?” He said with an innocent seriousness, though he couldn’t hold his smirk towards his own joke for long. “Which victory?” You asked in reply, his lightheartedness paired with the way his head cocked to the side like a curious cat while he’d awaited your reply bringing a small smile to your own lips. “Being the number one fake girlfriend, of course!” He said with a blinding smile, holding up his pink shot glass filled with soju as he waited for you to toast with him, “To the best fake girlfriend in the world!” His prideful tone made you laugh quietly as you lifted your own glass to his with a small ‘clink’ that only tiny little ceramic glasses could make, downing your shot before speaking breathlessly through the burn, “You know, you’re not a half bad fake boyfriend either.” Felix absolutely beamed.

“Now you’re just flattering me,” his voice carried his smile, making it unknown whether or not the heat in your chest was the lingering effects of the soju or simply Felix’s warmth.

“You got a split lip for me tonight, I’d say that definitely got you some points,” you corrected him as he filled the glasses once more, sliding yours back over to you. “And you cleaned it up for me, so the score is evened,” he countered, raising a brow as if challenging you to argue. Of course, you did. “You cleaned my mascara up, too.” “Blood is arguably grosser than gray tear tracks,” he said with a tilt of his head, a hint of a smile betraying just how seriously he was trying to convince you he was taking this. “I snotted on your blazer,” you scoffed, “That’s pretty gross.” “I work at a bar, I’ve seen grosser.” “Touche,” you conceded before downing your second shot, pondering for a moment on how the evening had unfolded before speaking, “I’m still sorry, y’know, about–” “Ah-ah!” Felix held up a finger and shook it, his brows shooting up, “No apologizing for something I chose to do.” “But you–” “I said no apologizing!” he repeated firmly, a frown on his normally cheerful face nearly being enough to make you stop.

As powerful as a pouting Lee Felix was, your guilt was stronger. “You wouldn’t have gotten punched if it weren’t for me.” Felix paused at that, his goofy little scowl morphing into a genuine, parted-lips look of surprise and contemplation. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you now. I’d do it again,” he said earnestly, looking right past your eyes and into your soul. He’d been pretending before, but now? Now Felix was actually serious. “Felix…” you began, trailing off as you realized you couldn’t say what you wanted to. Surely Felix would frown for real if you told him that you didn’t think you, yourself, were worth the trouble - and genuinely upsetting Felix sounded like a great way to cry for the third time this evening. “I’m serious!” he insisted, taking his second shot and dutifully pouring you both another, “And, honestly? That guy seemed like a dick. I’d probably have punched him eventually anyway, y’know? So stop blaming yourself for a silly little scrape.” You sputtered out a laugh, having failed to hold it back at the idea of San and Felix somehow meeting without you as a mutual existence in their lives. “You think so?” You asked him, still trying to hold back from simply cackling at the notion. “Oh, for sure. Assholes love going to bars, and I work at one. I’m sure I’d have seen him eventually and he’d have done something that would warrant a punch.” You couldn’t argue that, at least. San did have a penchant for being a dick pretty much anywhere he went. “I don’t see you as the ‘punch-a-random-dude’ kind of person, Felix,” you argued the next best - and valid - thing you could.

“He isn’t a random dude, he’s a prick and he sucks,” Felix said somberly, looking gravely serious as he slid your refilled cup over to you.

The laugh that threatened to escape had now succeeded, making you cover your mouth while it made its way through you and out into the air. Once it had died down, Felix took his shot and sighed, looking a bit conflicted. You wondered what on earth could be so serious in his little sunshine-y head, but you didn’t have to ponder long. “So…who was that guy?” Felix asked quietly, averting his eyes as if afraid the question would be far too much. Normally, he’d be right…but now? You weren’t sure if it was because it was Felix asking, or the way he’d been there for you tonight, or the soju that was now effectively making you relax, but you would tell him. It was weird. Jisung knew about San because he’d been there firsthand, but otherwise you simply opted out of sharing. Of course, there were mutual friends of you and San’s who’d ask you, but you would always abruptly change the subject and then make a point not to see those people again. So, it was weird…

But you wanted to tell him. “That was San,” you answered him in a sigh, lifting your shot to your lips and taking it in one fell swoop - you’d likely need it. “And he is?” Felix prompted you to continue, though not aggressively. He was gentle about it, pulling the information from you like a splinter that might hurt, but needed to come out. He wasn’t being nosy, he wasn’t being impatient. He was being compassionate. 

As if just as much as you wanted to tell him, he wanted to know. Not for gossip, not for himself…but to understand. “He’s my ex,” you answered simply, setting your shot glass down as Felix immediately pulled it close to himself again, waiting to pour until he was sure you’d finished a complete - if not short - sentence. “You dated him?” Felix asked in an almost dumbfounded way, like the idea of San having once been someone you cared about was unreal. “I almost married him,” you corrected, watching as Felix’s eyes widened briefly before he regained his composure. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he said quietly, putting the now empty soju bottle next to the sink before moving around the counter to stand next to you rather than across. You appreciated his proximity more than you’d want to admit.

“Dodged a bullet, didn’t I?” you murmured, a dry laugh leaving you as you stared down at the shot of soju, “Or, I guess, the bullet dodged me in favor of a different target.” “No…” Felix whispered, going wide-eyed, “He..?” “Yeah.” Silence ensued for a moment as Felix simply glanced at you, then to the floor, then back to you. “Married her, too, if the ring on his finger was anything to judge by,” you added, figuring if you were going to talk about this? You may as well get it all out. “Only thing that ring is gonna be good for is splitting my lip,” Felix said with a quiet, simmering anger, taking his shot before turning to look at you, “Nothing born of cheating is gonna last. He’ll be alone, and he’ll have no one to blame but himself.” “That’s what I tell myself, too,” you responded in kind, swallowing your soju just as he had moments ago, “But maybe I’m wrong. He’s married, and I don’t even believe in love.” “Because of him?” Felix asked quietly, carefully picking up the shot glasses and setting them near the sink, turning to face you as he leaned back on the counter. “Yeah. Because of him.”

Felix frowned, walking up to you and clapping his hands against your cheeks just hard enough to make you pay attention, though there was no sting. His stare looked intense, though not in the same way it did earlier at the gala. He looked angry then. Now he looked sad. “Don’t you dare give him that power,” Felix said sternly, his voice rumbling in his chest as he continued to hold your face, “He doesn’t deserve to have any influence over you or your life. Ever.” “Felix, it’s not that big of–” you began, wanting to assure him that it wasn’t something that needed tending to - at least not now. “Yes. It is.” He interrupted, lowering his hands and sighing softly, “I hate that he did that to you. I wish I’d punched him harder.” “Felix, really, I’m okay.” “No you’re not.” “I’ll be okay.” “I know.”

There was a long silence, interrupted only by the soft swishing of Felix’s hand through his hair, before he finally spoke. “I’m sorry I got so worked up,” he mumbled, still looking away, “I just…you’re important to me, and he hurt you and messed with your brain and–” “Felix, it’s okay,” it was your turn to interrupt now, and the softness of your own voice surprised you. “Thanks for telling me,” he said quietly, looking over at you with a sheepish little grin, the beginnings of the brightness you knew him for starting to return. “It’d be kind of unfair of me not to,” you conceded rather than accepting his gratitude, doing your best to return what you hoped was a semblance of a smile. “What? Why?” Felix asked, perplexion leading him into that all-too-familiar by now head tilt. “You’re trying to prove me wrong, right?” Felix nodded in response, to which you continued, “Shouldn’t you know why I hold my beliefs?” Felix paused, but then nodded, “I suppose so…but still. You didn’t have to tell me, y’know? But you did.” He was right. You didn’t have to tell Felix about San at all, let alone that you’d almost married him. You didn’t have to tell him that San was now getting to live the life that could’ve been yours if he’d stayed faithful. You didn’t have to, but… “I wanted to,” you said quietly, “I…haven’t really talked about it much.” “Will no one listen?” Felix asked innocently, now intent on understanding as much of you as you’d allow. “It’s not that, plenty of people asked.” “Why me?” That question gave you pause. Why Felix, of all people, to unload - albeit in very little detail - what happened with San to? You knew the answer.

Who else to tell but the man who made you a silly little mug that matters to you more than an award? Who else to tell but the man who left a date with his dream girl just to come find you and make sure you were alright? Who else to tell but the man who carried you to bed when you fell asleep in his truck? Who else to tell but the man who almost punched your best friend, and did punch your ex, simply because he wanted you safe? Felix was warm. He was sunlight, he was joy. He was security, dependable even though he might be a bit goofy at times. Felix was safe.

Who else would you tell if not Lee Felix? That was far too long of an answer to give the eagerly waiting man, however, so you settled for simply saying, “Because you’re you.”

And he smiled.

Felix smiling because of you was quickly becoming one of your favorite things, and when he rushed forward without warning to hug you? You realized his hugs may be one of them, too.

Hugging Felix was like being wrapped in a warm blanket after being out in the cold. Comfortable, easy, soothing.

Felix did not hold you too tightly, just enough to make sure you knew he had you, one of his hands absently rubbing your mid back. He smelled of the peach soju you’d shared earlier and remnants of his cologne, and he was warm. Not in the sense you usually saw him, but genuinely and truly warm. 

“You know what you need?” he posed his question with an eager smile as he pulled back from the hug, though you wished he hadn’t.

You don’t voice that, though, so instead you settled on a query of your own, “What’s that?” 

“Brownies.”

Of all the things to suggest, making brownies at midnight was not on the list of expectations from Felix.

Though at this point, it seemed, Felix had a habit of defying your expectations.

“Hand me the flour?”

You complied, pulling yourself from that train of thought to hand him the large bag of flour, to which he thanked you with that brilliant smile of his.

As you watched Felix expertly fold the batter into itself, you couldn’t help but wonder what else there was to him that you had yet to discover. As much as being taken aback by Felix wasn’t a problem, it also opened the door to an almost unhealthy level of curiosity to who he was when he wasn’t existing in your presence.

A curiosity you couldn’t quite identify the necessity for.

“How long have you been baking for?” you asked, rather than focusing on finding the root of your newfound interest in his life.

Felix paused in his stirring, setting the rubber spatula down to rest against the edge of the bowl as he hummed, answering after a brief moment of contemplation, “A few years, I think?” he began, sounding just as unsure of the answer as you would’ve been, “I started out trying to learn to impress a girl, but turns out she had a boyfriend.” You stifled the urge to roll your eyes; of course he would’ve learned in an attempt to find love. A so very Felix reason to pick up a hobby.

“I liked it, though,” he began, “Baking, that is…not that she had a boyfriend. That’d be weird,” he said with a small laugh, shaking his head as he looked back to the bowl of batter and added in some cocoa powder.

“What makes you like it so much?” you asked him, surprised by the interest you heard behind your own inquiry.

“Well,” he began with another smile as he blended the powder in the bowl, reaching for the chocolate chips to add into the sweet-smelling mixture, “It’s kind of cheesy…” he mumbled, setting the bowl aside to get a pan from beneath the stove.

“Hit me with it,” you said with a small laugh, watching as he poured the rich brown batter into the pan carefully.

“Okay…” he spoke hesitantly, opening the oven and sliding the tray in, “I like having a skill that makes people smile.”

That gave you pause.

While you hadn’t necessarily been wrong about the reason for his initial interest in the hobby being very true-to-form, something about knowing he’d continued because it made people happy struck you, as if there were no other reason that would make as much sense as that one did. Why you hadn’t expected it was beyond you, but you felt a warmth settling in your chest at the thought.

“To make people smile?” you inquired, to which he nodded.

“Yeah. Someone has a bad day? Baked goods. Celebrating? Baked goods. Friends coming over? Baked goods. They’re never really out of place, y’know? And they always make things better.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant but likely not as deeply as he felt it. The look on his face spoke leagues, he looked so proud of being able to do something that brought at least a bit of a bright point to someone’s day.

“That makes sense for you,” you answered him eventually, the corners of your lips turning upwards.

“Does it?” he countered, tilting his head as he picked up a towel to wipe any lingering brownie from his fingertips, “How do you figure?”

“Well, yeah,” you started, the words to say coming from your lips in an unplanned series of compliments that made Felix’s cheeks turn progressively darker shades of pink, “You’re selfless, Felix. You left a date to make sure I was okay, you remembered I like dumb novelty mugs, you’re always smiling and ready to help at a moment’s notice…so, yeah, I think it makes perfect sense that, even with a hobby, you want it to bring brightness into someone else’s life.”

Felix cleared his throat, a grin on his lips that he tried to hide by looking away bashfully, “Wow…I mean, thank you, I…” he trailed off, “I’m really not that great, though, y’know? I’m just…me.”

“Just you was the first person I felt safe sharing my past with San to, remember?” you countered immediately, an ache forming in your gut as you felt the self-deprecating nature of Felix’s comment about himself. You wondered if there were maybe something that had happened to him, just as something had happened to you, to plant such a seed of self doubt in his mind.

You wanted to find whatever it was and pluck it from his little blonde head.

“I guess you’re right…” he said quietly, looking up at you with a lopsided smile.

“No guessing about it, Felix. Just you is pretty great, remember that.” The seriousness with which you spoke those words to Felix surprised you, and apparently him as he paused for a moment with his lips slightly parted.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, still looking every part a flustered boy who hadn’t the slightest clue how to accept a compliment.

“Yeah,” you said back, equal sheepishness in your tone now that exactly what you’d said and how you’d said it registered with you. 

Time passed quietly, though not awkwardly after that conversation. Felix had busied himself by washing the mixing bowls and measuring cups while you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone. A sudden ping almost made you jump, the comfortable silence broken by a pop-up denoting a new message.

Dumb Squirrel: hey, minho and i just got back to our hotel!

Dumb Squirrel: how was the gala?

Dumb Squirrel: did you win?

You couldn’t help but smile, the startling dings becoming less jarring and more comforting as they continued to flood through. 

You: how’s Jeju?

You: I won, yeah.

You: The gala was…something.

Jisung’s reply came almost the second after you’d hit send, rendering switching back to scrolling socials a bit pointless as you tapped the drop-down.

Dumb Squirrel: “something”???

Dumb Squirrel: explain.

You sighed. Explaining this to Jisung may very well be as exhausting if not more than the actual events that had occurred. You could already guess that he’d react poorly, if not violently - not that Jisung could take a punch, let alone throw one. As tempting as lying was, this was your best friend…and you knew he’d find out eventually.

You: well…San was there.

The absolute flurry of texts you were then bombarded with were nothing short of the literary equivalent of a storm.

Dumb Squirrel: WHAT?!

Dumb Squirrel: what the fuck?

Dumb Squirrel: W H Y the fuck?

Dumb Squirrel: you didn’t call me why?

Dumb Squirrel: are you okay?

Dumb Squirrel: do you need me to come home?

You waited a moment, just to be sure he was done with his rapid-fire questions before responding.

You: I’m okay. He said it was to save me from embarrassment, but I don’t know if I believe that. I didn’t call because I was at the gala and you’re busy. You don’t need to come home.

You: Felix kinda saved me.

Jisung’s next text came in slower, a welcome relief from what was beginning to tempt you to turn off your ringer.

Dumb Squirrel: Felix showed?

Dumb Squirrel: I was hoping he would! thank god he did.That was…puzzling. Why had Jisung assumed Felix would come?

You: Did you have something to do with him showing up?

You: I swear if you gave him a guilt trip…

Dumb Squirrel: No, no, nothing like that. He just asked me what the gala was out of nowhere, so I told him. And he didn’t like that you were alone, and asked me if you’d have liked someone there.

Dumb Squirrel: all I did was tell him that yeah, you probably would.

You frowned, this made no sense…

You: How did he even know to ask about it? I never told him.

Dumb Squirrel: I don’t know, that’s a Felix question.

You: and you had NOTHING to do with it?

Dumb Squirrel: would I lie and pass up on being your knight in shining armor by association?

He had a point. Jisung would never pass up on an opportunity to boast about saving the day for you, even when it was something as simple as bringing you a coffee when you had a deadline coming up…there was no way he’d not admit to sending someone to accompany you at the gala.

“Hey, brownies are coming out!” Felix chimed happily from the kitchen, pink oven mitts on his hands bringing a fond look to your face.

You: Felix made me brownies, gotta go. Have fun with minho!

Dumb Squirrel: You’re still with him???

Dumb Squirrel: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Dumb Squirrel: details????

Dumb Squirrel: bitch????

You ignored the texts with a small exhale of a laugh before leaving your phone on the arm of the couch, joining Felix in the kitchen. 

The smell in the air was heavenly. Cocoa and a hint of coffee filling your lungs, replacing any thought you had other than just how good something with that rich of a smell would taste. Your mouth watered, and it took more effort than you’d care to admit in order to remember what you wanted to ask Felix.

“So, Jisung texted,” you began, hoping to maybe find a smooth way to ask without sounding accusatory. Simply asking straightforwardly how he knew about the gala felt a bit too brash, a bit too harsh for someone like Felix. 

Felix was gentle, so you would be gentle.

“Oh! What’d he have to say?” Felix asked happily while slicing the brownies carefully with a knife, taking a spatula and scooping two out of the pan and onto little plates adorned with pastel flowers along the edges.

“He and Minho are back to their hotel room,” you started, pressing your lips together as you wondered how exactly you’d tackle the elephant in the room that only you could see.

“Oh, that’s right, they’re on vacation, right?” he asked innocently, handing you a plate expectantly.

“Mhm, Jeju,” you said quietly, sitting down at the island counter with your brownie. Why was it so hard to just ask?

“Ooh! Pretty this time of year,” he noted, sitting one seat over from you and setting his own plate down, immediately taking a bite of the brownie with a pleased grumble from deep in his chest, “Try it!” he encouraged, covering his mouth with his hand so as not to show off the mouthful he had.

It was impossible not to, when his eyes sparkled while stared at you. The question could wait.

You lifted the still-warm brownie in your hand, taking a bite from the corner. As soon as it hit your tongue, the perfect mixture of crispy and gooey, you felt your eyes widen with an unintentional exclamation of, “Mmm!” leaving your lips, brows now sky high as you chewed, savoring it for everything it was.

It was more than just a brownie. It was a gift from a boy filled with sunshine - a boy who’d saved you tonight, despite your uncertainty as to how he’d known you’d needed saving in the first place. It was made specifically for you, by a boy who’d learned for someone else entirely.

The boy who liked to bake to make people happier baked these for you, to make you happier.

That was more important right now.

“These are amazing, Felix!” you complimented, lips upturned without you having the intention for them to be, to which he grinned right back.

“Really?” he chirped, straightening up as he accepted the praise, his fluffy hair bouncing around his head as he almost vibrated with the happiness that compliment gave him, “They’re my own recipe, I’m glad you like them!”

“I do!” you nodded before taking another bite, the flavor being perfect - not too sweet, hints of the bitter from the instant coffee powder he’d used in them, “You could sell these!”

Felix shook his head, “They lose their meaning then,” he said earnestly, “It’s not special anymore if just anyone can have them.”

That made your heart lurch in your chest.

You were not just anyone to Lee Felix.

“I guess I see your point,” you managed to speak, rather than pondering exactly what his explanation meant to you. The two of you ate in silence for a while, your brownie being nothing but a few crumbs on a plate when you remembered your original question.

“Felix?”

“Hmm?” he asked, picking up both of your plates and carrying them to the sink.

“How did you know where I was?” you asked him, feeling much more settled now that you’d had a moment of peace with him.

“Oh…” Felix trailed off, a breathless chuckle leaving him as he turned to face you, running a hand through his hair - something you’d learned he did often when nervous, “I think you sent me a picture on accident instead of Jisung.”

“Huh?” you asked him, reaching for your phone only to remember you’d left it on the couch. Felix quickly pulled his own out, saving you the effort, and opening your texts to show you the photo and the text that had mistakenly been sent to him.

He was right in the assumption the photo and message had been meant for Jisung, a dry humor to the ‘pray for me’ you’d attached once you’d arrived to the gala sending off pings in your head as you realized that the message hadn’t, in fact, made it to the intended recipient.

It was an accident, albeit a lucky one.

“And you came..?” you asked him, handing the phone back to him in an almost-daze. 

“Well, yeah. I asked Jisung what it was, and once I found out you were all alone at such an important thing for you, I couldn’t just leave you by yourself,” he mumbled, looking away shyly as if admitting his own kindness were difficult for him.

“But you were out with Ryujin,” you pointed out, though if anyone knew that it was Felix.

“I know…I told her I had an emergency with a friend, though, and she understood,” he said, waving a hand almost as though trying to shoo away your concerns.

“How did you even know it was an emergency? You didn’t even know about San,” you spoke quietly, sounding every bit as confused as you felt.

“I didn’t need to know about him to know that being there for you was important,” he shrugged, still downplaying just how big it had been to you.

“More important than a date with the girl you’re head over heels for?” you asked him, incredulous that - without knowing about the discomfort of an ex being there - Felix still found being there for you to be urgent.

“Sure, why not?” he asked, his brows furrowing in genuine confusion as to how that was even a question, “I can reschedule a date, you can’t reschedule an award show.”

He…wasn’t wrong, no…but it felt almost foreign to have the show put on such a high pedestal. You had to beg San, back when you’d actually wanted him there, to come. A man you were supposed to marry basically needed to be dragged to it. And here was Felix…a friend who you’d made in the strangest of circumstances, who’d dropped something he’d wanted for months, unprompted, to support you.

It took everything you had not to cry - and Felix could tell.

“Hey, hey, did I say something wrong?” he asked, hurriedly making his way to your side and putting a hand on your shoulder - a warm, safe, comforting hand. The same hand on the same shoulder he’d comforted you with at the gala…

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just…” you trailed off, cursing the wetness you felt in your eyes as your cheeks grew hot, shaking your head as it felt like your throat grew tighter.

His hand squeezed your shoulder, but he didn’t speak. You didn’t need to look at him to know he held a furrow between his brows, concern written on every facet of his face.

“I just can’t believe you’d show up for me,” you finished your thought, your voice cracking as you managed to keep the tears from spilling down your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Felix said softly, moving his hand to your back to rub small, soothing circles there.

“Because I’m…me,” you said with a dry laugh, wiping your eyes on the back of your hands - they still smelled like the brownies, and it was strangely comforting.

“None of that,” Felix said with a frown, reaching behind him to grab a paper towel in case you’d need to wipe your eyes or blow your nose, “Just you is pretty great, too, y’know.”

He echoed the sentiment you’d given him earlier, though it felt almost uncanny to have reversed towards you now. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked up at him and nodded with a quiet sniffle.

“Yeah?” you managed to ask, your voice thick with emotion.

“I wouldn’t make you brownies if you weren’t.” His words were like an oath, his face devoid of any hint of humor as he nodded in return.

And you believed him. You believed that somehow, Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender, found just you to be enough. 

Enough to make his special recipe he saved for making others happy for. Enough to leave the girl he was hopelessly in love with alone at a bar. Enough to punch your ex in the face. Enough to carefully clean your face up. Enough to remember you collected, let alone to make a silly novelty mug for. Enough to carry you up to your apartment when you’d fallen asleep. Enough to care about.

Even after the threat of tears were gone for the time being, that thought would stick with you.

You were enough to be cared for, and that thought would surround you just as much as the scent of brownies and Felix’s shampoo as you fell asleep in his bed that night, his light snoring from the couch being the sweetest lullaby.

It was the best night’s sleep you’d had since San left, and the final thoughts in your head were that you certainly hoped Felix knew that he, too, was enough. More than enough. You hoped he knew that everything he’d done for you had given you a deep sense of peace, quieting those voices in the back of your mind that would whisper things into your ears to make you doubt yourself. You hoped he knew that his brownies made you happy. You hoped he knew that you’d always be grateful for just how much he’d done for you - not only in the last twenty-four hours, but since you’d met him.

You were already grateful, too, for the things he had yet to do, because there was no doubt in your mind that there would, in fact, be more he would do for you.

“Sorry” He apologised, even though it was no one’s fault. The stage equipment and lights made the set far too hot, the air conditioning was broken and they’d only just begun. Hyunjin couldn’t fathom what the full day of filming would look like. He held the little fan to his face, the cool instantly relaxing his muscles with relief, shoulders sagging from tension. Jisung stood between them still, trying to tune his guitar and the makeup lady awkwardly stepped closer, patting down the foundation on Hyunjin’s cheeks, “Did you tan when you were away?”

“Um, I suppose. I was out in the sun a lot” He responded, but realised quickly that she didn’t really want a response. She was berating him because his usual foundation no longer matched him. Her lips pulled into a thin line, “You should be careful”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up. Careful about…what exactly? When he was in Daejon, swimming in the Creek, or lounging away in the sun, his first concern wasn’t exactly putting on any heavy sunscreen. He was away from the world of…such.

“He just doesn’t know his face would cost the company millions of won" Jisung joked. It was irresponsible, sure, but he had more important things distracting him at the time. At the memory of the bright Daejon sun, Hyunjin smiled, closing his eyes briefly to revel in the memory. If he thought hard enough, the blaring spotlights could almost replicate the southern summer sun. It was hard to get lost in his imagination though. The lady was prodding and poking at his face, turning him this and that side so she could fix him. This wasn’t the time.

“There. Try playing it now” Jisung said proudly, standing up straight and letting go of Hyunjin’s guitar. So he played a tempo to test it, and the music seemed perfectly fine now. In the end, it was futile anyway. The company didn’t allow them to play live in the music video. Apparently they had no faith that the boys wouldn’t mess up the instruments after such a long hiatus, and there was no time or money for retakes and reshoots. So, they would only pretend to play, and lip-sync the words and hopefully someone in the editing department would make it seem real. Still, Hyunjin was going to try his hardest to genuinely play. He hated pretending.

“Close your eyes,” The lady mumbled, an annoyed tone that frankly felt unwarranted. He followed the instructions, and felt the tip of a brush poking at his eyes as she reapplied some of the darker eyeshadow. The concept for this album was pop-rock, leaning heavily into the rock, and so their makeup was inspired from the 1980s world of rock.

“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asked, as she used a little too much force on him, making his eyes water under the sharp brush.

“Hmm?” She was none the wiser, and he suddenly wondered if he should backtrack, but he wouldn’t be able to continue the filming knowing one of their makeup artists was possibly mad at him. “You…seem upset” He said. 

A sigh followed, “I’m not upset, I just think you should take better care of yourself. Jisung was right, you know? Your face does cost us thousand of won. I understand you’ve just come back from vacation but if you don’t do your job, it’s very difficult for me to do mine”

“Right” He nodded, sudden guilt overwhelming him, “Can I open my eyes now?”

With the confirmation, he did and looked at her, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful in the future” 

She smiled, pulling at his cheek, “It’s good to have you back, kid”

Within seconds, the set jumped back to life. Chan ran onto the stage, getting into his position, and Changbin followed. They were both visibly upset, due to the company not allowing them to sing live, but years in this industry had made them numb to some of that anger. Hyunjin took his place on the stage, as the cameras adjusted and thirty-something people gathered before them, ready to film. He wished he could sneak one look in the mirror before filming, for the reassurance that he didn’t look like a total clown, but he trusted the kind makeup lady. 

“All right, boys” Chan looked at them, microphone stand in his hands, “From the top, yeah?”

The backing track began on cue, and Hyunjin’s heart pounded like it hadn’t in ages. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to do a full-fledged music video shoot so soon after the hiatus. Did he even remember his chords right? The audience may not be looking at his hands, but he sure as hell would be. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a breath, hoping he didn’t mess up for the sake of their team. Millions of people would watch this. Thousands would instantly know they weren’t actually singing, and he had grown tired of the accusations. Most of those people would be rooting for his failure, and he could imagine the myriad of hate comments about how Hyunjin should never have returned to the band. Maybe it was a mistake being back in the spotlight so soon. Chan’s hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He leaned in to whisper, loud enough for only Hyunjin to hear, “Forget everyone else, Jinnie. She’s going to love this”

A surprised smile tugged on Hyunjin’s lips just as the spotlight hit him, and the camera began rolling.

»»————-

Later that night, Jisung crawled into his bed. He pulled the blue comforter off Hyunjin’s aching legs, settling cross-legged across him. The filming had taken a toll on him, and he’d really let himself go when he was away. It usually took a lot more to get him this tired, and he was still adjusting to this new schedule. Jisung leaned against the wall, releasing a sigh of contentment. This had become second nature to them, a routine to sit, talk, and catch up on the past few months of summer. They’d stayed in touch through text, but it wasn’t the same. Some nights, they’d go for a walk, find an open barbecue place, and eat into the early hours of dawn. Other nights, they’d stay in the dorm and order some cheesecake, and Jisung would tell him everything he missed. Every anecdote, each funny moment, painstaking details of how many different ways he’d embarrassed himself. Hyunjin had missed a lot, so he’d sit and listen to the tales of the city that he’d pined for all this while. It was good to return to the life he’d left behind. Everything was different here, and sometimes it felt like summer had existed in a void away from the world. Jisung would also ask him about his hometown, but Hyunjin never knew where to start, so he preferred to listen to Jisung instead. He had a lot more to say anyway. 

Tonight was different. Jisung asked him about you.

And that wasn’t the routine.

“I don’t really know what you want me to tell you” Hyunjin laughed, and they were both tucked into blankets, like kids bonding at their first sleepover. 

“You’ve talked about this girl all freaking summer, and now you have nothing to say?”

“Well, yeah, you already know everything” Hyunjin mumbled, flush rising up. They never had this dynamic before, this…sharing of crushes, or whatever it could be called. Jisung was usually the one in relationships out of the two of them, and Hyunjin would never bug him about it. Not until Jisung told him himself. So, Hyunjin didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah, I know the shortened version you sent over text, but…how’d she react when you said you’re coming back?”

Hyunjin swallowed, memories flashing through his mind of his last night in his hometown, “She was really upset”

“Upset, like…didn’t talk to you kind of upset, or…had sex with you before you left— upset?”

The words sent a flush up Hyunjin’s neck, and he knew this was exactly what Jisung wanted. This was his intention. To embarrass him. To celebrate this new dynamic, when Hyunjin was the one with a stupid crush and not the other way around.

“We didn’t have sex” He clarified. Jisung’s eyes widened, “Really? Not even on the last night?”

Hyunjin leaned his head against the wall, playing with the threads of the blanket. The last night was complicated, for all the right and the wrong reasons, so he settled for the most matter-of-fact answer, “I didn’t have any condoms”

“Shut up, I know that’s not true. I sent you like a huge box your first week in Daejon. Don’t tell me you never used them…”

Hyunjin laughed at the memory, “Thank you for that Jisung, but…I’d already packed it away. I didn’t really expect anything to happen anyway. I thought she’d be too upset at me for leaving”

“So…that’s the only reason?”

Hyunjin swallowed, knowing that if perhaps they’d had an hour longer together that night, things would probably have led straight to that, condoms or no condoms, “Well…we were out of time”

“You spent months with this girl. How were you out of time?”

Hyunjin sighed, “There was no right moment. I didn’t want it to be rushed—”

“No rush? As if you wouldn’t bust a nut as soon as you’re—” Jisung was interrupted with a smack in the face by a pillow, voice turning high, “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”

“I’m not talking about this anymore” Hyunjin laughed, the red reaching the tips of his ears.

“That’s pretty unfair, you know. I used to tell you every detail of my relationship with Mae, down to the nitty-gritty details”

Hyunjin looked up at him. It had been a while since he’d talked about Mae so freely, and he swallowed, “How are you holding up?”

Jisung’s smile fell, humorous demeanour disappearing in seconds, “She’s happy now”

The statement meant so much more than he let on. Happy now. As in, she wasn’t happy before, when she was dating Jisung. Thinking back on it now, their breakup had been explosive, and it seemed like Jisung was still picking up the pieces. Was this what the rest of Hyunjin’s life would look like? Surrounded by miserable relationships destroyed by their careers. He can’t recall the last time he witnessed a love story with a happy ending. He sighed, “That sucks man”

Jisung shrugged, “It is what it is”

Hyunjin stretched out his legs under the blanket, letting out a soft groan, “Man, my limbs haven’t hurt like this in ages”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “You’re getting soft, big boy. We’re hitting the studio tomorrow at six. Album release is only a month away now”

His phone buzzed and he reached for it immediately. “Is that her?” Jisung asked, smiling.

“Yup” Hyunjin typed in a quick text to you, “She’s…telling me about her day”

“Is that all you guys do?” Jisung asked, a smirk on his face, scrolling up on their chats, without permission. He let out a dramatic gasp, “What are you writing her all these long-ass paragraphs for? It feels like I’m reading a book. Big red flag. At least break it up into multiple texts”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I mean, there’s a lot she’s interested to know about my life here. I like telling her what we’re up to. If you see it from an outside perspective, it’s pretty cool. She really loves it”

Jisung laughed, eyebrows wiggling like a kid, “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what she loves”

Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Stop. We’re just…really close friends now”

“Does she know that?”

He didn’t like this conversation anymore and what it implied. He informed him for the umpteenth time, “I told her from the start that I don’t do relationships. She knows.”

Jisung was still scrolling through their chat, probably hoping to find something steamy but stopped at the media that Hyunjin had shared, letting out a gasp, “Wait a minute. Have you been sending her our studio recordings?” 

“Yes” Hyunjin frowned, “She likes those”

“You know, Eunwoo would have a heart attack if he knew you were leaking unreleased music”

Hyunjin sighed. Jisung was always so dramatic. “I’m not leaking anything. It’s only to her. She’s not going to show anyone”

“And how do you know that?”

“I trust her” Hyunjin’s reply was automatic, “More than anything”

Jisung smiled, eyes crinkling, tilting his head, “Even more than me?”

He chuckled, grabbing his phone back, “Shut up”

»»————-

He had been waking up earlier than usual, and he’d find himself at the kitchen table first thing in the morning, watching the sun rise through their apartment window. It was always fun to greet the boys as soon as they woke. He’d missed them for so long and he was trying to cherish every moment with them. Jisung would joke about how obsessed he was with them, often hovering like a parent around the house in the morning, waiting for their kids to wake up. It was strange because Hyunjin wasn’t an early riser, but his thirst to spend time with them overpowered his desire to lay in bed. He sat at the kitchen island scribbling ideas in a little journal Changbin bought him. It had admittedly become his diary, filled with crazy ideas, midnight thoughts, and sketches for paintings. 

The dance practices had got easier in the past weeks, and his limbs felt lighter. It almost took no time for him to get back to normal, sucked into the whirlpool of obligations that his life offered. There were so many interviews, press junkets, editorials, and he was back in the studio every night. He’d missed that grandly — getting to work on the music and, for the first time, writing his songs into the album. All of that made everything else worth it — like when they couldn’t leave their dorm because it was surrounded by paparazzi. They’d crowded around the building, hoping to get a glimpse at or any comments out of Jisung. Unfortunately, Jisung was still in the middle of a huge legal battle with the media that had leaked every detail of his personal life and relationship. Hyunjin didn’t understand how Jisung managed to still be so sane, after something like that rocked his world.

But slowly, he carved time in his life to start painting again, between schedules of course. An art shop in Hongdae was perfect for his needs. It was small and convenient, and he could be away from the public eye when he was in it. He found time for you. In changing rooms, backstage, in five-minute breathers between practice, he’d text you when he could. 

“You’re up early” Chan smiled, and Hyunjin looked up at him. He was already dressed, and he moved towards the light switch, turning them on, “You’re drawing in the dark?”

“It’s peaceful” Hyunjin hummed, “On set…it’s always too bright”

“Ah. Right. What are you sketching this time?” Chan moved over to him, glimpsing into his diary. 

“Just…a rough map of home. I’m writing down all the places, I wanna remember it. I don’t know when I’ll go back”

Chan smiled thoughtfully, “Is that your plan for the day?”

“No, actually, I was just about to head out to buy some flowers. I really want to draw some white hydrangeas, they won’t be in bloom for longer, and I’m hoping I can capture their whole life cycle”

Chan laughed, “Wow. It’s only six am and you’re already talking romance”

Hyunjin flushed, “It’s just for my drawings. I want to get better at observation. Speaking of, can I come watch you in the gym later? I…think I’ll draw you next”

Chan moved around the island, prepping a morning smoothie, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Jinnie”

“Of course not” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, continuing to add details to his little map, right now he was adding the 7/11 between your house and Aera’s. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be possible Jinnie. And…you’re probably gonna have to get the flowers tomorrow” Chan suddenly said, filling up the blender with ingredients.

Hyunjin frowned, “What do you mean?” But of course, Chan turned the blender on right then, so Hyunijn had to wait until he was done to find out. The loud whizzing sound filled the kitchen, and if the other boys weren’t up yet, they certainly would be now.

“Sorry about that” Chan apologised sheepishly, pouring the smoothie into four cups, and then eyed Hyunjin’s pajamas, “You should change into a coat, something warm. It’s chilly out”

Hyunjin tilt his head, suspicious, “Why?”

Chan slid him the smoothie, which Hyunjin hadn’t even asked for, and then grinned, “I’m kidnapping you”

“What?” He laughed, reaching for the cup anyway. He might as well start drinking healthy.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Jinnie. She’s a prodigy, she owns like a gazillion art galleries across the country, and she wants to meet you”

“Since when are you interested in art?” Hyunjin hummed, trying not to gag at the taste of the drink. It was all protein powder and whey. Chan smiled at the sight, leaning forward on the counter, “Since my best friend started drawing masterpieces, of course. Go get changed. I’ll drive us there, and if we have time before going to set, we just might be able to buy your flowers”

»»————-

The paintings in the art gallery were beautiful, and Chan was a good sport, taking just enough interest in the art that Hyunjin felt important in explaining all the techniques. They’d wandered around for a while now, eyeing every exhibition. Enough time had passed as they stood observing the room of sculptures, and Chan nudged him. He was diverting his attention to a woman with a tablet in hand as she walked around the space. The apparent prodigy. She seemed busy, pushing buttons on the tablet as she inventoried the place, a flurry of rich visitors following her around. Hyunjin had seen her before, and he asked, “Does she work in our building by any chance?”

“She certainly does. Hey, Karina!” He suddenly called out, “This is Hyunjin”

Hyunjin went wide-eyed and awkward, certainly unprepared to meet someone so important out of the blue, but Karina seemed sweet enough. Her gaze caught his, widening when she noticed them. She whispered something to her über important guests, and then walked over to them, all prim and poise. She certainly looked the part of an art gallery owner, although Hyunjin had never seen one so young before. She shot him a smile, “Ah. I’ve heard so much about you, Hyunjin”

“Oh no” Hyunjin had a funny feeling in his stomach, “What did Chan say?”

She laughed, “Nothing too bad. He showed me some of your work”

“He what?” Hyunjin cringed, “I’m sorry about that”

She laughed again, “Don’t apologise. Your work’s pretty good. Even before Chan, you were kind of hard to miss actually. Your face is plastered all across the company building”

Hyunjin cringed yet again, clasping his hands together, “I’m…sorry about that. That’s embarrassing”

She laughed, “Not at all. So…do you like the collection?”

Hyunjin looked around, nodding, “Oh. Of course! It’s beautiful. I love the exhibit, and I can’t believe you have some Monet up too. That must have been hard to get”

She tilt her head, an admiring smile on her face, “It certainly was. The job’s not easy, but I enjoy it a lot. We try to stick to contemporary work, switching up exhibits every month or so. You’re lucky you caught us during Monet. We’re having those shipped back to Paris soon”

Hyunjin nodded, hands slipping into his pockets, “Paris. Wow…”

“Actually I don’t have too much time, so I’m going to cut to the chase” She smiled, “The reason I asked Chan if I could meet you was…if you’d ever be interested, I wouldn’t be opposed to hosting an exhibition for your work”

His eyes widened, a surprised chuckle escaping him, “What? I’m literally just starting out. Experimenting…I don’t even have a specific art style yet or much original work…”

Karina shook her head as if all of that was an afterthought, “We already know it’ll be a hit. You’re very loved, especially in Seoul”

He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would an actual, real-life gallery ever want to exhibit his work? He barely had work to begin with! All he’d done was post a few artworks on his Instagram, and mentioned that he liked drawing in an interview, “But I’m not a professional, by any means, I just…do it because I enjoy it”

She smiled, “Precisely. It’d be nice to give new artists a voice. Sooner or later, some art gallery is going to snatch you up. I’d prefer if we were the first. There’s a lot of interest in you by the public. It’d be a loss to not display your work. If there’s anything I learnt from Kim Jieong it was—”

“Wait, you know Kim Jieong?” Hyunjin forgot his manners, interrupting her, especially in such an excitement, but he couldn’t help himself.

Karina laughed, eyes narrowing, “Are you a fan?”

“No, but my girlfr-“ Hyunjin stopped in his sentence, clearing his throat, and he could feel Chan’s gaze burn curiously into him, “Um…one of my friends is. He’s her favourite artist in the world”

“Well…I wouldn’t give him so much credit” Karina spoke, clutching the tablet tightly, “But yes, I used to intern with him earlier”

He was too straightforward, but he didn’t care, “Do you think you could help me get in touch with him? I’m sorry, I realise that’s a big favour and—”

Her expression changed, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. My relationship with Jieong…is complicated. But, if you’d really like maybe I could help you set up a meeting or something”

“Really?” His eyes lit up, and the conversation had completely sidetracked but it didn’t matter, “That would mean everything to me. Thank you”

“Of course. I can’t promise anything. This may be TMI, but he and I aren’t on the best terms. He is a wonderful artist though. I’ll give him that”

“Thank you, Karina” He smiled, genuinely. A security guard came up, tapping her on the shoulder. She nodded at him, and then looked back at Hyunjin, “I'm sorry I have to get going, there's been an incident involving a spill in the impressionist gallery …but the offer’s always up for the exhibition, by the way. Eunwoo could give you my contact details. I think you’d made a great addition to my portfolio, Hyunjin”

He smiled, but all he could focus on was that she knew Kim Jieong. Hope festered in his heart that maybe now he could finally get you the chance you deserved.

»»————-

The Hydrangeas bloomed beautifully on Hyunjin’s desk. He’d been drawing them all afternoon, and he looked forward to seeing their state change as he came home each night from work. It felt silly, but summer flowers reminded him of you. The vase needed fresh water, and he stopped sketching to go up to the kitchen and fill it up. The boys were gathered around the dining table, just about to head out to the studio, and Chan was preparing cocktails. Hyunijn switched on the water tap, absentmindedly watching the vase fill up, listening to their conversations. 

Karina still hadn’t got back to him, but he was holding onto hope. It had only been a week since their conversation after all. His days since then had been busy so he couldn't worry too much about it, occupied by schedules, he’d also managed to squeeze in time for himself now. It seemed like going back to his hometown had been genuinely helpful. It had fulfilled its purpose. He’d come back to work, feeling a new kick in energy and joie de vivre. There was hardly any sadness like before, and that's all Hyunjin could have asked for from his little vacation anyway.

Since his return, there had been some changes to the company too. He’d discovered a new library, hidden in their building, somewhere on the fourth floor, and he’d been frequenting it during his breaks. Every morning, he picked a new book to read and would fixate on it for the next week and a half. Barely any employees ever came to the library, other than HR sometimes, and it was a nice escape. He could imagine that you’d really love the library, full of nooks and crannies begging to be found and thousands of books aching to be read.

He discovered he had an affinity for poetry, and some poems never left his mind. There was one in particular by Kim Yong-Taek that occupied all the space in his head. 

눈 내리기 전에 / Before the snow falls,  한번 보고 싶습니다 / I would love to see you.

They felt real, as if they’d been written only for him, and shivers often ran up his skin as he stood reading them quietly, a deep ache in his heart at the familiarity of the words. It was crazy that something written hundreds of years ago could capture exactly what Hyunjin was feeling right now. He hoped he could make music that felt the same to others. The longing in his bones only got worse each day, and he was making a plan to fix it. Summer had been beautiful, even contending for his favourite season, but it was ending, and he would do anything to make autumn just as beautiful.

»»————-

Sleep clouded his vision, the song's melody blending with his drowsiness. It had been a week of rerecordings and they’d barely got any rest. Hyunjin tugged the headphones off, glancing at Chan through the observation window, “Was that a good take?”

Chan gave him a thumbs up through the window. His energy had been deflated too, but Hyunjin was hoping for a better response, “Are you sure? I can do another take. I think…it doesn’t sound as emotional as Jisung’s verse”

Hyunjin could only just about see Chan’s eyes, squinted over the mask he wore. The decision to cover his face was obvious; there was a little camera propped up in the studio, a way to film behind-the-scenes content for when the album finally released. Chan obviously didn’t want to be captured in this sleep-deprived state. Still, Hyunjin would have loved to see his expression, the microscopic changes in his face would tell him if he really loved the recording or not.

Chan nodded, weary eyes, “If you think you can do a better take, go for it, Hyunjin”

So he did, inhaling a breathful of air so he wouldn’t falter during his lines. He’d sounded too emotionless and mechanical and they were recording a love song. He had to pour his feelings into it, so he closed his eyes. The lyrics were embedded into his brain anyway. 

Chan began the backing track, and Hyunjin let his thoughts drift... They wandered into a familiar memory, one he usually saved for bedtime and when he was alone. His mind kept coming back to it. It was so fresh, but each day it was fading away, slipping out of his grasp and he felt the need to bottle up the memory and store it in a safe forever, where it would always be remembered. The twinkling fairy lights of the Château, the blue paint puddle on the floor, the paint you spilled on his shirt, the heated and frenzied first, second…and third kisses. The moment had been so short-lived. He had been so vulnerable that night. You’d seen him that night, truly seen him, and he still felt surprised at how much he’d divulged in you so easily. It was the realest he’d ever felt, like the rest of his life before and after was just a charade for his friends, for the cameras, for himself.

Maybe it was only with you that he was the real Hyunjin. The teasing and laughs over the chocolate strawberries and paint easels had been second nature and strangely familiar, like it wasn’t your first time doing this together, as if you had both been falling into patterns and habits of centuries ago. The most innocent actions felt crude, and cruel. Crude to kiss your cheek but not take it further. Cruel to give in to a desire he could never fulfil. Maybe every other moment in his life had been fabricated except for that night, that would explain why he was the happiest then. 

“Shit…what was that?” A voice interrupted him. Hyunjin snapped open his eyes to see Chan staring at him in disbelief. The backing track had gone onto the next verse now. He cleared his throat, “Um. Sorry I….spaced out. Let me record that again”

“Are you kidding me? That’s the best take you’ve ever given us” Chan laughed, in disbelief, stepping into the recording booth, “You sold that to me completely, Fuck. You almost made me tear up. You should do more ballads, Jinnie. That was amazing”

Hyunjin blinked at him, holding onto his headphones tightly, so unaware of himself, “I…I didn’t realise it was that good”

“Come on. Listen to it” Chan grabbed his arm, leading him out, and replaying what had just been recorded. Hyunjin almost didn’t recognise himself singing. He’d never sang like this before. Goosebumps rippled up his arms and neck, and he looked at Chan, “You’re right. That one turned out…really good”

“Damn. You can convince the audience that you’ve lived a thousand lives, been through a hundred heartbreaks. You convinced me. That was so real”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, and he pushed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, “It felt real to me too”

Chan wrapped up the recording, and then happily turned the company camera off, “Do you know what this means, Jinnie?”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, grateful they weren’t being recorded anymore. 

Chan stepped closer to him, a growing smile on his face, “We fucking finished this album, baby”

»»————-

Hyunjin was changing the water in the vase. He’d been desperately trying to keep the Hydrangeas alive, but that had been a failing task. So he’d found some time to buy some Cosmos, hoping he could draw them instead. It was almost autumn now, and the flower in bloom had changed, so he kept trying to adjust to it. It was harder than he thought. Chan's voice distracted him, “Are you coming to dinner with us? We’re thinking of trying that new Italian place”. Hyunjin looked up at him, “Shit. Is it okay if I bail? I was going to call Y/N later tonight. She wanted to paint together”

His eyebrows shot up, a small smile on his face, “Paint together? Is that a euphemism?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, switching the water tap off, “No. It's obviously not”

“Wouldn’t you love if it was?” Jisung smirked at him, walking into the kitchen. It seemed like all their serious, and unserious conversations often took place in this kitchen, their one common space. Chan laughed, “So how long will your paint date last? Should we bring you any takeout pizza?”

Hyunjin shrugged, glancing at the clock, “No, that’s okay, I’m not hungry. It’ll last a few hours maybe. Next week we’re going to be so busy with the press tour, I was hoping to finish a whole painting tonight. It’s easier if I’m doing it with her. I’m just more motivated then”

“There’s a word for that, you know?” Chan leaned forward on the counter, a teasing smile on his face, “She’s your proper muse”

Hyunjin laughed, not expecting him to say that, but he had been thinking about it. After all, that’s what had made the recordings so much easier. He was singing with you in mind. He denied it, “That’s really cheesy, even for you, Chan…”

“Eh, but it’s true. You should tell her that tonight”

Hyunjin smiled, already imagining your reaction to such a thing. He wouldn’t even know how he’d bring it up. Wouldn’t it be too much? Would you be embarrassed? He could recall all the times he’d catch you off guard with his compliments back in Daejon, your expression as if he’d said the most insane thing ever when Hyunjin was just appreciating you. Fuck. He really needed to see that reaction in person again. 

Every perfect summer memory only added to the weight of his longing in fall, and he decided it was time, “I’m gonna invite her to come to Seoul”

Changbin stood across the hall, having just come out of his room to catch the last bit of conversation. His eyebrows shot up, “You are…?”

Hyunjin swallowed, catching the boys' reactions as he revealed the plan, “I just bought the train tickets for her this morning, and while she's here she can stay in an apartment I rented out for her. It’s a few blocks away from ours, so she’s close enough to me, without it being suspicious”

Jisung frowned, “But if you rented it, your name would go down in the record”

“No, I already thought of that. I asked to use my aunt’s credit card, and she’s not a Hwang, so there won’t be any trace back to me”

Jisung leaned back in his chair, “You really thought of everything, huh? No loopholes?”

“No loopholes” Hyunjin nodded, hoping they’d approve of it because something like this would put them all under scrutiny and risk, “Well, as long as she says yes”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Changbin frowned, crossing his arms, “If I was her, I’d jump at the chance”

“Yeah, I know you would. There’s an apprenticeship she wanted in the city…but she didn’t get it yet. She may not want to come here anymore…in case it reminds her of that”

“Is there any chance she can still get it?”

Hyunjin shrugged, placing his palms on the counter as he thought over it, “I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to figure it out”

Chan sighed, seeing his dilemma, “Hey, if it’s in the stars…she’ll get it. She seems talented enough from what you tell me about her”

“She’s hellbent on believing she can’t get it. I’m going to try to convince her to apply again. It’s kind of frustrating. Without connections, it’s so hard to make anything out of it. I mean, when we were at the gallery, you introduced me to Karina. It was so easy. She saw my work, and immediately agreed to a fucking exhibition. Sometimes it feels kind of unfair. What did I do to deserve that? I know there are hundreds of artists better than me who should be getting exhibitions, but…I’m getting it just because I’m famous. It feels weird and privileged”

Chan sighed, “Hyun…I know what you mean, but…it’s unfortunately how things are. And it’s not like you’re misusing this. The fact that you recognise it in the first place is sometimes all we can do”

Hyunjin let out an exhale, staring off into the distance, when his phone pinged. It was a text from you.

hey! im all set up here. ready when you are :)

Chan grinned, handing him a cocktail he’d just made, “Go on then. We’ll head to dinner and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Hyunjin smiled, rushing back to his room. In anticipation of this call, he’d already set up his work area. Ever since he’d been back, he hadn’t gotten too much time talking to you, so he would make the most of it. He set his glass down next to his MacBook, and laid out his canvas. Through the computer screen, he could see a glimpse of your room, which was messier than his. It had more personality, and it was more lived in. He realised he’d never had a chance to come to your place. He had a sudden urge to see how you set up your room and things, your little knick-knacks, the big teddy he won for you, your artwork curated over years. But from hundreds of miles of away, he could only see a little square of your life. You were biting down on a chip when he spoke, “I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan”

Your face changed, lighting up, “Yeah?” 

The connection wasn’t great, so all your responses were delayed, but Hyunjin hummed, proud, “It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”

“When can I hear it?” 

He laughed at your eagerness, “We’re still writing it”

You nodded, going back to painting. He would surprise you soon with the ticket he bought you to Seoul, but he wanted to build up to it. Perhaps he could do a grand gesture, or leave you little hints to keep you wondering. He could only imagine how happy you’d be. He could show you his favourite places in the city, introduce you to the boys and you could finally see his life, in all it’s glory. It only felt fair after you’d let him into yours so warmly. He had fit into your life in town so easily, a puzzle piece falling into place, and he hoped he could make it the same for you. Obviously, there’d be less freedom, more restrictions but at least you wouldn’t be a stranger to his lifestyle anymore. Hyunjin took a moment to sip his drink, staring at his own work. getting the courage to say it, “Can I say something cheesy?”

“Yeah?”

He leaned over the webcam, so he could be infinitesimally closer to you, cheeks reddening, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”

He watched as you sat on your knees, curious, “What do you think about?”

He flushed, regretting how this made him sound so romantic when he wasn't trying to be, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”

He saw your eyes widen, and a deep emotion overwhelmed you. He didn’t see you react more, and he wondered what this meant to you, what he meant to you right now, even so far away. You didn't say anything back. You must be holding it all in, just like him. Maybe you didn’t know how to put your thoughts into words. He couldn't blame you. Even after reading all the poems in the world, Hyunjin didn’t have the words either. Not enough anyway.

»»————-

It was supposed to be an informal gathering to celebrate the album, but it felt more like a full-fledged party. Their manager’s apartment had been completely transformed, no empty floor space as everybody from the company had gathered around for a hurrah. Hyunjin had a few drinks in his system already, enough to get him really going. He stood away from the crowd, tucked into a corner, phone pulled out, typing in a ridiculously cheesy message to you. The party was great, and he was so happy to have finished the album. All that was missing was you. The text started sounding far too cheesy, inspired by the love rot that the poetry books had filled in his brain, and slowly, it became more and more unhinged. The wine Chan brought must have got to his head, but he couldn't stop, all of his thoughts pouring out in a mixture of sentences that didn't really make any sense.

I want you here with me at this party. Fuck, it’s so dull without you. If you were here, we could just sneak off and…I would kiss you. Positively. My manager is here, the scary one, but he doesn’t have to know. Earlier, I was reading a book and there was an English word in it that reminded me of you. Saudade. I looked it up because I was so curious and it said it’s a state of melancholy for a beloved someone or something. I think that explains this ridiculous feeling I have when I think of you. I have it even when I’m not thinking of you. Like last week, when we were recording this one song. It’s like you’re here with me in everything. I guess what I’m saying is, I just want to kiss you really really badly and fuck I’m really drunk so I’m sorry for how this may sound but I just really need to feel you—

The phone was snatched from his hands, Changbin squinting to read the message, “Who are you texting in the middle of our party?”

Hyunjin flushed red. He was really drunk but he still noticed their manager to the side, and hushed, “Keep your voice down, Binnie”

He looked up, eyes wide, “Is this your idea of a sext?”

“What? no— it’s not a sext. I’m not sexting, what the hell”

“You’re like…weirdly poetic when you’re drunk”

Hyunjin closed his eyes, “Just…give me that”

He deleted the message. 

It was a bad idea to be sending you drunk messages anyway. He should just call you instead. Yeah. That sounded like a smarter, much better idea. Before he could dial your number, Changbin pulled him to the living room, and Hyunjin let himself be tugged along. Jisung was standing shirtless there, liquid smeared down his chest and abs. He was laughing, hair all messed up, clearly very tipsy, “Come on! Who’s next?”

Hyunjin did not intend to be a part of whatever this was, but Changbin pushed him ahead, “He’s up” But they were surrounded by company employees. Even the girl from the art gallery, Karina, was here and he flushed from the embarrassment. “I don’t even know what we’re doing” Hyunjin chuckled nervously, as Changbin hoisted him up over the table, handing him a quick shot to get the nerves out. Hyunjin downed it in a single sip, the liquid burning his throat. The state of his sobriety stopped him from protesting too much, until Jisung explained, “Body shots, of course. Pick your contender, Jinnie”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, looking around the bunch of people, none of whom he felt comfortable touching him, but he saw a few of the women shy away, “I…I don’t know”

“I’ll do it” Chan laughed, stepping ahead from the crowd, “If that’s okay with you”

Jisung certainly seemed to have enjoyed it, and he wanted to give it a shot. He could be chill with this, but he would definitely blame the alcohol in him for how easily he went down on the table, and how easily he let Chan unbutton his black shirt. The overhead lights were too bright and Hyunjin closed his eyes, and his head was spinning. The music was pounding in his ears, the marble countertop cold to his back.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this” He laughed to himself, swept up in the environment as Changbin dripped tequila over his stomach. The chill liquid tickled him and he immediately squirmed, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt embarrassed for his reaction. Clearly, he was a novice to this party celebration, but he was also enjoying the attention.

“You ready, Jinnie?” Chan asked, looking up at him with a comforting smile. Chan was definitely drunk too in order to pull a stunt like this in front of the employees. They were absolutely loving it though and he could hear them all cheer them on. They never got to see the members in a more unprofessional environment than this one, and Hyunjin hoped none of them changed their opinion of him after this. He gave a quick thumbs up, facing the ceiling as he felt Chan’s mouth near his stomach. He sucked in a breath in anticipation, cheeks flushing from all this attention. He was used to people’s eyes on him, but this was so different and intimate. Somehow, his self-conscious part disappeared just as Chan licked a stripe of tequila up Hyunjin’s torso. He squirmed, a giggle escaping at the ticklish feeling, and Chan held him down, hand on his thigh, laughing, “Stop moving! You’ll get it on the table!”

Hyunjin stilled with the threat of ruining their manager’s table, eyes still closed as Chan finished licking the rest up until his chest, and his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t help but imagine this situation differently. Would you have partaken in this with him? How would that have looked like? If it was you doing this to him, instead of Chan? The little party activity would definitely have turned into something else by the end of it…and he knows he definitely would not be able to resist, not when your tongue was on his stomach and you were so close to him. The image sent a rush of blood through his body, thoughts that he should definitely not be indulging in when his best friend was doing body shots off him, and Hyunjin immediately sat up, bumping his head right into Chan’s. “Ouch!” Chan exclaimed, clutching his forehead, “Careful, Jin!”

“Um, sorry” He swallowed, jumping off the counter, embarrassment lingering from how he'd stupidly turned himself on in front of everyone he knew, “I felt sick”

“No worries” Chan laughed, oblivious to his friend's thoughts, patting his shoulder as everybody around them continued cheering them on, “You did good”

Hyunjin walked away, feeling sticky now, and he tried to wipe off the remaining with a kitchen towel. If it was you, he would have let you go all the way, until every stripe of tequila was gone from his body. And then some more.

He buttoned his shirt up again, hands shaking from the buzz, blood rushing to the parts that needed his attention. He needed to hear your voice. You didn’t even know he was at this party. It was so inconvenient to be so far away, trying to convey all that he felt through a mere text or phone call. He stood to the side, shaky fingers pulling up your contact until he heard your voice on the other end. “Guess what?” Hyunjin grinned.

“What?” Your voice was soft on the other end, so calm, grounding him in his drunkenness. A stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of his party and he could think straight again. Hyunjin smiled, “We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready. We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”

He felt excited to hear your reaction. He was grinning ear to ear, as you congratulated him. He’d heard that today many times, but hearing it from you was incomparable. You were proud of him. He giggled, stumbling out of the hallway, blood rushing to his head, “Jisung made me drink…far too much. I liked the wine, though; Chan found it in this cool store, but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of —” 

“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him.

Hyunjin nodded, walking around, trying to avoid anybody being able to pick up on his conversation. So many people were in this tiny apartment, and he wished he had more peace and quiet to talk to you. “It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”

“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke.

“Sorry” He apologised, walking off towards the balcony, “Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, I can”

“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He mumbled, voice dropping, and the rest of this party was fading from his vision, tunnel vision to you and your voice on the other end, “Why aren’t you here?”

Hyunjin thinks the only way he can stop missing you is if you start visiting him in your dreams. He wonders what sorcery he needs to do for that to happen. Could he visit you in your dreams? So you never grow apart, and find each other every single night. “I miss you too….but you should get back to the party—”

Hyunjin failed to notice Changbin creeping up on him, taking the phone away, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?”

“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin sighed, all his poetic declarations disappearing into the void. At this point, he thinks he needs to maintain another diary just to write all the things he wishes to say to you but never does.

“Hey!” Changbin was talking to you, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”

“Stop!” Hyunjin exclaimed, realising their managers stood nearby and the commotion had caught their ears, “Don’t announce it to the entire party.” Changbin laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”

“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin tried to grab it.

“Let me finish!” Changbin laughed. Hyunjin’s head began to ache when he saw Jisung approach their chaos, “Fuck. Is that her?”

“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” He sounded like a broken record, like all his primary functions had ceased and wouldn’t function until he heard your voice again. “Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?” Jisung asked, loudly. It was loud enough that their managers heard it, ears perking up and glancing at Hyunjin. One of their managers, Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. This was the first he’d heard of this, and goosebumps rippled up Hyunjin’s neck at what this could mean.

His voice dropped, stepping back towards his meddling friends, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”

“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted, oblivious to his surroundings. Hyunjin yanked the phone back, and he was pissed, but he wouldn’t blame them. They were only messing about. He let out a breath, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”

Your voice sounded far away, resigned, “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You should enjoy the party, Hyun” Panic built up in his throat at the thought of you leaving, “No, no, I called you because I missed you”

“I can’t really even hear you,” You said, crushing his heart and soul to irreparable pieces. Maybe he was being dramatic, but perhaps he needed you to breathe, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”

Hyunjin was ready to protest, bear his heart out to keep you a little while longer. What was the point of celebrating his success if he couldn't share it with you right now? Isn't that why he'd pushed himself so hard this time? So he could impress you with all the songs he'd written with only you in mind. He’d leave the party if he had to, just so you wouldn’t go. Before he could declare his insanity of wanting to talk to you, Eunwoo stepped closer to him. His eyes were narrowed, a tell-tale sign, disapproving head tilt. Hyunjin had lost the opportunity, and he said, “All right. I’ll call you later”

With no qualms about destroying the party's vibe, Eunwoo asked curiously, “Who are you talking to?”

“Nobody” Hyunjin panicked, hanging up. He shoved the phone into his pocket, and it burned into him. Eunwoo sighed, “I heard Jisung mention a girlfriend. Is there something you want to share?”

He shook his head, unease settling into him or maybe he was just about to throw the fuck up, “Can we…not talk about this right now? I mean, we’re at a party”

Eunwoo stared at him, as if dissecting all of Hyunjin's deepest, darkest secrets, gaze burning through him. Then he nodded with a smile, “Of course, Hyunjin. You should celebrate”

Hyunjin’s nerves calmed down and he began walking away. Maybe now he could return to enjoying the rest of the night.  But of course, Eunwoo stopped him, hand over his shoulder “We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning though. I want to see you seven AM, in my office”

Hyunjin suppressed a groan, bile rising up his throat at what this could possibly mean, “Oh. Okay”

Eunwoo patted his shoulder, before walking back to the party, “Don’t be late, Hwang”

»»————-

He definitely didn’t feel human stepping into the office, a mere three hours later. He hadn’t got any sleep. He had just enough time to head home, shower, and wipe the remnants of tequila off his stomach before heading here. The body shots didn’t sound like a great idea now. His shirt was sticky and ruined. His head hurt, and he was surprised that Eunwoo wasn’t hungover. He’d probably gouged on hangover soup last night, and he sat in a crisp suit-and-tie across the table. He looked up at him, cheery smile, “Morning, Hwang”

Hyunjin sat in the uncomfortable office chair, squinting against the lights that hurt his sensitive eyes, “Good morning…”

“Did you have a good time at the party last night?”

Hyunjin nodded, putting on a smile, “Yes. It was nice”

Eunwoo was their nicest manager, he’s the only reason Hyunjin had been able to go back home and he certainly liked him the most. He was miles better than Kim Soohyun, the guy who basically decided Hyunjin’s life. But now…it seemed like Eunwoo had been sent by his higher-ups to sweet-talk Hyunjin, “You certainly seemed to enjoy it, but sadly, I didn’t see too much of you. We would have liked to get a drink with you”

“Ah, I was with the boys most of the night” He answered. Could this meeting not have been an email? His head was pounding and he couldn’t focus on anything.

Eunwoo tilt his head, picking up on his irritation, “Say it. Whatever’s on your mind”

“No disrespect. I…just don’t understand why we need to talk about this right now”

“Why? Because it’s a Sunday and most people don’t have to go to work today, or because you drank too much last night?” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. There was a stress ball in his hands and Eunwoo kept tossing it back and forth. 

Hyunjin bit his lip, “No, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired”

“Because it may be a day off for everyone in the country, but not for you. I’m sure you’re aware of that. After all, superstars don’t get to where they are by slacking off”

Hyunjin frowned, “I understand. Is there a specific reason you wanted to see me today?”

Eunwoo put down the stress ball in his hands, expression suddenly turning serious, “Look, kid. If I could turn a blind eye to this, I would. Trust me. I hate doing this as much as you hate hearing it, but Kim Soohyun was at the party too. He overheard things. I’m accountable to him, and you’re accountable to me”

Hyunjin sank into his seat, “So…am I in trouble or something?”

Eunwoo clasped his hands, “Depends…did you do something to get you into trouble?”

“No, I didn’t, Eunwoo”

He leaned forward on the desk, hands folded under his chin, “There was quite a lot of talk about a girlfriend last night. You never mentioned that to me”

Hyunjin let out a sigh, “There’s no girlfriend. The boys were dicking around”

Eunwoo gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Then, who were you talking to? On the phone when I saw you? Surely your parents wouldn't be awake that late”

“Just…a friend from back home. They’re not important”

“Look, Hyunjin. I hate to pry. Your personal life is entirely yours but not when it concerns your image or the company, or god forbid, the media. If you are dating somebody, you have to let me know so I can be prepared for when it eventually gets out to the media”

Hyunjin’s head began to hurt exponentially more and maybe he should never have called you last night, “I’m not dating anybody, Eunwoo”

Eunwoo nodded. Clearly, he didn’t believe him. He’d known and managed Hyunjin for years. He'd known him since he was fifteen. He could see right through him and wished he was a better liar. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that”

Hyunjin sighed, sitting up straighter as if that could convince him better, “She’s just an old friend, from back home”

Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, and then leaned back in his chair, “Okay, I’ll believe you. I hope you’ve already passed along the contract to her”

He frowned, “What, the NDA? I’m not dating her, why does she have to sign it?”

“Well yes, you’re not, but clearly you and her are close if you’re drunk calling her from a work party. She could have the wrong idea, if she goes around telling people a different story…that’ll be a problem”

“She is not going to tell anyone”

“You don’t know what girls can be capable of to get fame. An argument with you, if someone bribes her, if she sees any opportunity, she could go to the media—”

“Y/N is not like that” Hyunjin interrupted, a surge of bitterness ripping through at the assumptions.

Eunwoo’s eyebrows shot up, “Y/N…that’s her name”

He wished he could take back that information. It was too late. He released a breath, “Look, you’re not making her sign any contracts. We’re not romantically involved. There are no legal obligations. Am I not even allowed to have fucking friends anymore?”

Eunwoo closed his eyes, “Don’t get angry on me, Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. This is how it’s been for years. The rules won’t change for you. It’s going to be difficult to manage these rumors after you already took half a year off to yourself and with Jisung’s trial and Chan and Kairi’s…whatever the hell they’re doing. You say you’re not dating this girl, I’m going to trust you on that. But if at any point that changes or the girl goes to the news, the company will have to step in. For example, she talks to somebody about her…special friendship with you. Kim Soohyun won’t think twice before suing her for defamation”

Hyunjin saw red, and he clenched his fists as to not react. Defamation? “I get it, Eunwoo”

He nodded, putting a document on the table and sliding it to him, “If anything changes, you have to let me know. I have to be ready to release a statement”

“What, a statement…for what?” Hyunjin stared at the files. An NDA and a press release statement. This was absolutely insane. Nothing had even happened, and they were preparing for the worst case scenario. No, they were waiting for it. 

“You’ve been in this industry long enough, Hwang. We must inform the public and fanbase…if you’re in a relationship. If we keep it to ourselves and it gets out anyway, the backlash would be immense. Now, don’t worry. We can always try to keep her identity secret if you’re worried about her safety and with threats and everything, but—”

Hyunjin stood up in panic, blood rushing to his head, “That’s not happening. There’s not gonna be any threats to her…or announcements”

Eunwoo looked up at him, blinking blankly, “Okay… I appreciate the sentiment but that’s not entirely in your hands. The press tour starts today. All eyes are going to be on the four of you. The whole damn country is talking about you, Hyunjin. We can’t afford a scandal. Kim Soohyun has me in a tight grip. I have faith in you that nothing happens to throw that off”

He swallowed, nails digging into his palm from his emotions, “Yeah. It won’t”

Clearly, his plans of bringing you to the city to visit him were down the fucking drain. He’d be lucky if he could even get a phone call with you anymore. 

“Also if you’re using the company phone to stay in contact with her, I suggest you change that. It shouldn’t be traced back to us”

Hyunjin nodded, and he wasn’t even dating you but the worst was already happening. This was what he’d feared the whole time. There was no point. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he asked, “Is that going to be all?”

Eunwoo nodded, “You should take these documents with you, just in case. HR were happy to print them out for me this morning. They also told me you’ve been hanging out in the romance section a lot in the company library”

So he had absolutely no privacy anymore either. Hyunjin snatched the folder, carelessly holding the files in his hand, with no intention of ever using them. He wouldn’t let the press statement or NDA document anywhere near you. In fact, they’d be tossed in the trash as soon as he was home. He headed for the door and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He needed to decompress. He couldn’t show up to practice this pissed and this wound up. He’d explode, and the boys didn’t deserve that. 

Eunwoo’s voice stopped him, “Oh, and congratulations, Hyunjin”

Hyunjin turned around, gripping the doorknob in blind fury. It felt like a taunt, a joke. There was nothing to congratulate him for. He couldn’t even keep his friends close without it exploding into a big deal. What did he even have to be grateful for? He looked right at Eunwoo, and his lack of sleep made him more irritable, “For…what?”

Eunwoo smiled warmly, his entire demeanour changing, “The album pre-sales are the biggest we’ve ever seen. You’re a global superstar now. You should feel very, very lucky, kid"

»»————-

“Can you stand still for me, please?” The assistant responsible for touching up Hyunjin’s face asked. He nodded, letting her put rosy tint on his cheeks, blending it with the contour. He’d been here for what easily felt like hours, and through the mirror he could see that Changbin was just about done with his makeup. 

The week leading up to the release was always the hardest. Somebody tugged at his hair and he resisted the urge to grimace. They didn’t deserve his terrible mood; they were only doing their job. The hairstylist apologised, noticing Hyunjin’s sour expression, “Sorry. Eunwoo said we need to get started on your hair right now; the other boys are already ready.” Hyunjin nodded, letting himself be manhandled by three different women as they struggled to put his hair into braids, “Have you been using the product we gave you?”

“Hmm?”

“Your hair’s thinning out, especially the bleached roots” The lady mumbled, disappointed.

“Yeah, I have” Truthfully he’d forgotten, a grave mistake for someone in his industry, but he’d been too caught up in everything else. His stomach rumbled and he hadn’t had time to grab breakfast this morning, so he looked around until he spotted one of their assistants, “Rowoon, could you please get me some honey butter chips—”

“Stay still, please” The makeup assistant repeated. Hyunjin straightened up, speaking through his teeth, “…or ramyeon?”

Rowoon looked at him through the mirror, eyebrows shooting up, “Um. Are you sure? You have a pre-recording tomorrow”

“I…haven’t eaten since last night” Hyunjin replied.

“Last time you ate it…your face got pretty swollen, and you were pretty beat up about not looking great in the music show” Rowoon said, grimly smiling.

Hyunjin nodded, gut hurting at that memory of his swollen face, “Right. Never mind. Forget it. Thank you”

“How long are we filming for today?” Jisung asked, adjusting his headset in the back. Rowoon looked between them, “Well, you guys are booked until 4 PM”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at his phone. 6:43 am. Fuck.

Changbin walked by, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder, slipping toffees into his palm, “That’ll fill you up before the interviews”. The candy looked less than appetising, but it was his only option, and he reached to eat some, just as the lady stopped him to apply lip tint to his mouth. Today was going to be a long fucking day.

They were almost done with his hair, braiding it at the top of his head, secured with glitter barrettes. It was an elaborate hairstyle, and he feared he’d ruin it if he moved. It was like walking on eggshells, like his slightest touch would crumble things. Well, everything already seemed to be crumbling. Hyunjin hadn’t been in the best of moods since his talk with Eunwoo, and the possibilities of how everything could go wrong loomed over him. The worst he’d feared for was already happening, things set in motion and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it from worsening. The company knew your name. They knew of your existence. They’d already restricted him. There’s no way in hell Hyunjin would be able to bring you to Seoul, much less meet you in this city without a hundred documents or cameras being thrown at you. Slowly, all his happiness that had been built up carefully and precisely, was turning into bitterness.

“Have you seen Chan?” Rowoon asked, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Hyunjin shook his head. He’d been sitting on this chair for forty five minutes straight. How the hell would he know where Chan was? The hunger and frustration was getting to him, and he shook his head, calming himself down.

“May I go now?” He looked up at the hair assistant.

She nodded, “Just no quick movements. The hairspray is still settling in”

Now that he could properly look at himself, it looked good. Having longer hair always set him at the mercy of experimentation for new styles, and often crazy accessories. He smiled at them, pushing the chair back to stand, “Of course. Thank you so much for your hard work. It’s beautiful”

In other circumstances, he’d snap a picture and send you, but…he’d been on eggshells with you too. Inadvertently, the conversation with Eunwoo had created distance. Hyunjin hated that because none of this was your fault. You shouldn’t be subject to this silence from him, but he was constantly looking over his shoulder, paranoid that he’d be caught and it was getting tiring. His carelessness at the party had led to this. He wanted to fully blame himself for not having any self-control when he drunk called you. Yet, a part of him knew that even without the doomed phone call, somehow everybody would have found out anyway. It was only a matter of time. Things never stayed stable for too long in his life.

He walked into the hallway, hoping to find an empty room. There were usually a few reserved for stage props. He could have a few moments to himself, just to talk to you. That could calm him down, and he could apologise for his distance. He didn’t know how he’d begin to explain what was happening to you. To anybody else, it’d seem like he was pushing you away and he hoped you understood that it was never his intention.

A door was ajar, sliver of light leaking out into the hallway. He stopped in his tracks, familiar voices inside. He didn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they were so loud, “What do you want me to say? I’m doing absolutely everything I can! Jisung’s trial is already—”

“Don’t bring Jisung into this…” Kairi’s exasperated voice interrupted, “What’s going on with him is different. You always do this, Chris! Why are you making this your problem?”

“I’m sorry? They’re my bandmates. They’re my friends. Of course I’m going to take their burden!”

“Jisung is an adult, he’s perfectly capable of—“

“I made a promise to all of them, Kairi. I’m not jumping ship when they need me the most” Chan sounded so frustrated.

She groaned, “I’m not asking you to jump ship. But Chris you haven’t slept in three fucking days! You’re…barely eating. This is not living”

Hyunjin didn’t know that, and his blood ran cold at the information as Chan replied, “This isn’t your problem Kairi. It’s…my problem to deal with. I have to make sacrifices—”

“I had to quit my job because of you, Chris!” She trailed off, Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and he flinched at the aggressive tone. He wasn’t new to their arguments, especially over the last month, but none were like this. This felt like the culmination of something that had been building for months, even years. Kairi was always so sweet, and her volume returned to normal, “I mean…I had to quit because of us. I made sacrifices too. So yes, it is my problem”

Chan’s voice dropped, “Well, I don’t want you to make sacrifices for me”

“That’s what people do when they love each other. I’m sorry but that’s just a reality you’re going to have to accept Chris”

“Do we…have to talk about this now? The interviews start soon, and I can’t focus on them—” 

“I’m so worried about you, Channie. I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the morning”

Chan groaned, “I don’t know either, but I have to do it for the boys. I can’t…let them down”

Hyunjin’s chest ached now, a different kind of pain settling in. Why were they all making sacrifices for each other? They were only in their twenties, pushing for their dreams; this instability shouldn’t be normal.

Kairi sighed, “See, that’s exactly the problem. Why do you always take the blame for everything? Even when Hyunjin was gone, you made it your mission to do damage control for him. Not everything has to be your burden”

At the mention of his name, he really should walk away and learn to mind his own business, but he couldn’t help but overhear, feet rooted to the floor as Chan’s voice softened with a new desperation and frustration, “They mean everything to me. You know that”

“They do to me too, Chris. I know this is a horrible time”

“Hyunjin?” He heard Jisung’s voice call for him in the hallway. He needed to head back. An entire press and interview team was waiting for them, only a few rooms over and if he listened any further, he’d be in no state of mind to answer questions. But of course as he stepped away, he picked up on the last bit of conversation, “Did you know HR gave Hyunjin the papers?” Chan laughed bitterly, “They’re already prepared for the worst”

Kairi sighed, and he could hear her footsteps as she moved closer to Chan. Only dread filled his stomach as he heard the next sentence out of her mouth, “That’s their job. You have to not make it your problem this time, Chan, I’m…so worried about your health. And that’s Hyunjin’s responsibility. He knew what he was getting into when he started seeing her. It was bound to happen. It always does.”

Hyunjin didn’t stick around to hear Chan’s response.

He had heard enough.

»»————-

“Hyun, can I come see you?”

The question was expected, but Hyunjin was shocked when you said it anyway. He froze, choking at his words. A few days ago, he would have been overjoyed at this. After all, he’d already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements for you to come see him, but…things had changed. It was too risky. He didn’t have the heart to tell you about his conversation with Eunwoo. What was the point after all? Hyunjin let out an awkward fucking chuckle, “W-what?”

“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help.” Your voice was far away, drenched in longing.

It wasn’t out of nowhere, it was only what Hyunjin had been planning since forever. But nothing went to his fucking plans, “I…I’m not sure, Y/N”

Your voice deflated, disappointed, “Yeah?”

His heart broke, but it had become increasingly clear that it would be the dumbest idea ever to have you come visit. If anybody saw them…if anything got out…he wasn’t prepared to deal with that, “Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…”

“Yeah. I understand” Of course you understood, no matter how shitty Hyunjin kept behaving. For once, he wished you’d actually yell at him.

“I’m sorry” He swallowed, and he could feel the life being sucked out of him.

Your response was sweet as usual, “It’s okay. It’s bad timing”

“It’s bad timing” He repeated, and Hyunjin suddenly had a horrible feeling that maybe this was the last straw. Things had slipped out of his control. Soon, eventually, you would too.

»»————-

The seasons were changing, but flowers bloomed all year long in Seoul, and so Hyunjin had prepared early. He’d bought the Camellia seeds so he could grow winter flowers on his own, and see their life unfold before his eyes. Even if everything else seemed to be falling apart, at least he could try to be consistent and paint his feelings away. The yellow falling leaves and orange tree cover taken over the city inspired his many paintings. Usually, you’d send him pictures of every little detail from back home, especially of changing landscapes and beautiful natural sights of town, but you hadn't shared anything the past week. He wondered what autumn would look like in Daejon. Now that his conversations with you were thinning out, he had an irrational fear that he’d never find out. 

“Everything okay?”

“Sorry?” Hyunjin snapped out of it, and Changbin looked at him, concerned. “You’re in your head again. Is something bothering you?”

Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “No, I’m good”

Changbin clearly wasn’t convinced, because his expression softened, and he reached a hand out, “Hey, why don’t you go wait in the car? I’ll bring the Americano out to you”

But he was so past being taken care of or worried about. So Hyunjin shook his head. The idea of waiting in the car sounded absolutely horrible right now. He needed fresh air, and he was perfectly capable of getting his own cup of coffee.

“No, I got this. Why don’t you let me get this for us?” Hyunjin asked, pushing his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. It was getting colder by the day, and even in this temperature-controlled cafe, he was cold to the bone. Changbin grinned, shooting him a cheesy wink, “Well, I’ll never say no to being treated by you”

A smile tugged at Hyunjin’s lips. Changbin could find the brevity in each situation. Hyunjin walked up to the cashier, placing an order for their usual. “Could I have two coffees, black, please?” He asked. The cashier, a girl probably in her 20s, smiled wide at Hyunjin, “Is that all?”

He glanced at the pastry counter, and everything looked so appetising. Yet he was on a diet and couldn’t afford to do this. Everybody would be so disappointed in him, “No, that’s all”

“Sorry, but do…I know you?” She asked, punching in his order. Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he thought he’d concealed his identity enough with the hat, but clearly the rest of his expensive outfit was a dead give-away that was he was some big shot. They had another schedule after this, so they were dressed up and he was draped head-to-toe in luxury items, “Um. I just have one of those faces, I guess”

The girl didn’t look convinced, “Right…I’ll have your coffee out in a few minutes”

He stepped aside, joining his friend to the side. Changbin had a huge grin on his face still and Hyunjin was thankful to have his positivity surround him, “That chick was totally flirting with you”

“What?” Hyunjin shook his head, pushing the receipt in his coat pocket, “She barely said two words. You think everyone’s flirting with me”

“Well, why are her and all her friends giggling and looking at you?” Changbin rolled his eyes. Hyunijn looked back, and sure enough, the cashier and her coworkers were looking at him. Maybe they shouldn’t have come in here today. It was too close to the comeback. He shook that thought from his head. He was desperate for coffee.

“Excuse me, sir? Your coffee is ready” The girl said, and Hyunjin stepped back up. She was smiling, flushing red under her uniform cap, and as she handed them the cups he noticed a piece of paper stuck to it. Changbin glanced at it, eyes widening as they stepped away, “Is that her number?”

“I don’t know” Hyunjin mumbled, unfurling the paper. This definitely was the most romantic way he’d been asked out. It was her Instagram handle, and a note was stuck to it, Hope you liked the coffee, handsome. Maybe we could get a stronger drink later tonight? 

“Wow” Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he pushed the note into his pocket too. It’d be thrown away later, “That’s…certainly a bold move”

“Please tell me you’re going on that date”

Hyunjin shook his head, amused at how light-hearted dates and budding love could be for Changbin, “I…have plans”

“What plans? You’re a recluse”

“I was going to talk to Y/N tonight—” He trailed off, eyes landing on someone familiar in the crowd. Hyunjin’s breath hitched.

It was a while since he’d seen her. Years, at this point.

She was sat at a far table, laughing over a cup of coffee and croissants. She seemed better than she had in years. Happier than she’d ever been around Hyunjin. Right now, she was glowing. The cause of her happiness seemed to be a boy sitting across her. A guy dressed in flannel and suit pants, chunky glasses on his face. Hyunjin couldn’t look away as the boy leaned forward, kissing her cheek quickly. She smiled, and then the cashier called out, “Coffee for Yujin”

She kissed the boy before standing up. She walked towards them, and Hyunjin was still standing stupidly at the counter. She noticed him, eyes widening, coming to a stop. Almost instantly, the life drained from her face. 

A stark difference from a moment ago, when she was so happy. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do; he raised a hand; a small, non-threatening wave. Things between them had ended in peace, after all. Yujin’s face traversed many expressions before she settled on a calm look, “Hyunjin. Wow…hi. This…is such a surprise. Hello…Changbin”

Hyunjin nodded, hoping this interaction wasn’t being watched, “It’s…been a while, Yujin”

She was still beautiful, smiling to diffuse the tension, “I didn’t expect to see you around here”

Hyunjin nodded, hands squeezing his coffee cup, “Yeah. I…don’t come here too often”

She nodded, familiarity returning to her gaze, “Ah. Too easy to get recognised?”

Hyunjin nodded along, even though that wasn’t the reason. He hated how his life seemed to revolve around his fame, and not his choices, like maybe he didn’t come here because he just liked another coffee shop more. Changbin took over, noticing the awkward shift in Hyunjin, “Um, so how have you been, Yujin? You look good!”

She smiled at him, “I’m great. I’m actually doing really well… I, uh, moved out of the city, closer to the outskirts”

“Really?” Hyunjin asked. He wondered why she would make such a decision. She’d trained with him for years, until she’d suddenly dropped out of the idol industry, but back when Hyunjin knew her and dated her, they had the same ambitions. The same thirst to be recognized, to be respected, and known for their talent. That’s why they had got along so well.

“Hmm, the city got too much for me sometimes. Anyway after I met Haru, it just seemed like the right choice to make”

“Haru. Is that…your boyfriend?” Hyunjin asked, noticing the boy back at the table. 

“Well…” She giggled, lifting her hand up to show them the glittering, gorgeous ring, “Fiancé, actually”

Changbin’s eyes widened, “You’re engaged?”

She nodded, a dimple in her cheek, “Haru asked me a few months ago”

Hyunjin forced himself to smile, but there was a deep pit in his stomach, recalling the conversations they used to have back in their days as trainees. They were never that serious to talk about weddings, or marriage. They both knew it was only an attraction between them and would stay that way, but he remembered a specific conversation where Yujin had said that the only disadvantage of becoming famous was the love life they’d be giving up. He was happy for her now. She hadn’t had to give it up after all, “Congratulations, Yujin. That’s…really good”

“Never too early to settle down, am I right?” She laughed, “What about you, Jinnie? How have you been?”

“I’m…good too. So…what are you doing these days?” He redirected the conversation back, curiosity brimming at him. What did someone do once they’d left the idol life? They were free to do absolutely anything, the choices were limitless. He’d never known a life without rules. He’d been training since he was fourteen, after all. She shrugged, “I’m doing a bit of everything. I volunteered at an organisation for a while, I tested my hand at photography, modelling even, but then I realised I really don’t want to be around cameras of any kind” She laughed, “I teach now, though”

“That sounds really nice, Yujin. I’m glad you get to do something you love”

“Well, you too! You’re absolutely thriving, Hyunjin. I see you every day with all your brand deals and advertisements. Does it ever get tiring being pretty all the time?”

Hyunjin smiled, “It’s…part of my job”

“Well, you deserve it. I remember how focused you used to be. You were my motivation, you know? It should have been obvious that life wasn’t for me. I hated everything. My favourite part of the academy used to be seeing you” At those words, the boy, Haru joined her, slipping an arm around her waist, “Everything all right, baby?”

She glanced at him, “Shit, I totally forgot to get the coffee. Just ran into some old friends”

Haru laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it for us, babe.” He kissed her again, with no hesitance of being seen by so many people, and went to pick up the drinks. Changbin conversed with Haru, as Yujin asked Hyunjin, “I read that you went on a break for a couple of months. That must have been…wow, relieving?”

He swallowed, “Yeah, it was really good, but…I’m back to work now”

“That must’ve been nice. I don’t know how you do it, Hyunnie. I remember when we training together, you wouldn’t leave the practice room for days. Still the same?”

Hyunjin nodded. Yujin had changed so much from when he’d last met her. Had he changed at all?

Haru smiled at him, “Thank you for taking good care of her then. She tells me about those days a lot. It must have been thrilling to keep it a secret from everyone”

Hyunjin shook his head, smiling politely at him, “It was terrifying actually” 

They laughed. Haru pulled Yujin into his side again as she said, “Well…this was unexpected, but if your schedule permits, you and the boys are always welcome to the engagement party. It’s the end of December”

Changbin sighed dramatically, “Unfortunately, we’re working the whole month”. Yujin frowned, “That’s terrible….I would suggest catching up after that but…me and Haru are going to be gone for three months”

“Oh, where are you going?” Changbin asked.

“Backpacking through Europe” She responded chirpily, “Haru’s really into art and sculptures, so we have this silly idea to visit every museum in Paris”

“That sounds really good” Hyunjin smiled, but he was drowning so deep in his thoughts he could barely focus. What a nice life. It was strange, the last time he saw her, she was in the same boat as him. Training to be an idol, like him. But their paths had diverged, and envy settled in him. He was so lucky to have his life, but he wished he could just take off like that too on vacation, no questions asked. Changbin’s phone buzzed and he apologised, ”Um sorry to stop this, but we gotta go. Eunwoo’s calling us back in to work”

Hyunjin nodded, “Oh, of course. It was great to meet you Yujin, and you too, Haru. Congratulations again, on the engagement. I hope you have a good time in Europe. I’m really happy for you”

Suddenly the expensive bracelets he was wearing felt like shackles around Hyunjin’s wrists. 

»»————-

A fire burned within him, a quiet inferno consuming his peace. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yujin and what her life was like now. She’d rebuilt it to something so special. She would never have that peace of life if she’d stayed in her company or with Hyunjin. He sat at the company table, signing albums, and it was a monotonous task so his thoughts kept drifting. 

“Jinnie. Your phone” Jisung mumbled, poking him with a pen. Hyunjin lift his head to see it buzzing across the table. You were calling. He took a breath, walking out to talk to you. You were the only thing that could make this horrible fucking day better. He hoped you weren’t still upset at him rejecting your offer to come to the city. Hopefully, you’d understand. Everything was too treacherous. Hyunjin…was too treacherous for you right now. Still, he listened to you about your day, and how you’d apparently made up with Yongbok. He smiled, lowering his voice as employees passed him in the corridor, “What did you guys do?”

As you told him everything he wished he was doing with you instead, Hyunjin faded into thought again until you said, “Um…and something else happened. When we were talking, Yongbok said something…He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”

He wished he was more surprised.

A cynical stupid part of him was happy at this. So Yongbok finally told you. Bitterness settled into his veins, scorching him from the inside out, and Hyunjin found himself thinking that maybe with Yongbok, you could finally have the life he couldn’t give you.

When he got home that night, he realised the hydrangeas in his room had withered away completely.

»»————-

He woke to fresh flowers on his desk. Baby blue, lilac, pink and white. All shapes and colors. The scent is what woke him up. It starkly contrasted to the dying hydrangeas that he still hadn’t thrown away. He’d been meaning to draw them in that state. A cruel render of their destruction. 

The comeback was in a few days. Their album would finally be out to the public. There was so much to do today, and he lay in bed just a little longer to enjoy the temporary peace. A press conference was underway soon, and he would have to put on his best self. It was going to be live-streamed and there were no doubts that he’d be asked about the hiatus. He worried if the music would be well received, if it would surpass everyone’s expectations. Hyunjin finally crawled out of bed and read the little notes attached to the bouquets. Congratulations on your 4th successful studio album. Never forget how lucky and blessed you are~!

He walked into his kitchen, sweatpants hanging low, sleep clouding him, to see even more flowers on the island. “Who sent these?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Jisung looked sorrowful though, ignoring the bouquets entirely.

“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, the worst scenarios playing in his head.

He swallowed, “They broke up”

His stomach was a pit at the news, “When?”

“Late last night. Chan…still hasn’t come home yet. We have no idea where he is”

“What? How do you know they broke up?”

“Kairi texted Binnie. She was worried. We can’t find him anywhere…”

“I’m going to call him" Hyunjin said, rushing to his room.

“We already tried that, Jinnie” Changbin spoke, “We’ve been trying since an hour”

“Maybe he’ll pick up my call” Hyunjin hoped, as the ringer rang in his ear. After eight rings, Chan did pick up. “Hello, Chan?” Hyunjin asked, voice soft. Jisung and Changbin moved closer, eyes wide as they observed him. Chan sounded low on the other end, “Jinnie…? Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m okay. Where are you, Channie? Are you all right?”

“I’m…fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for the conference”

“No, can I please come get you? Let me” Hyunjin pleaded. There was a pause, and a sigh and then Chan said, “I’m at the old dorm”

“I’ll be right there” Hyunjin hung up.

“No, we’re coming with” Jisung said, stepping ahead.

“Guys. Let me…just do this on my own. Eunwoo would kill us if none of us are here. Me and Chan will make it to the press conference, I promise”

Hyunjin couldn’t drive fast enough. For a second, he worried he would forget the way to their old house but it was embedded into him. It’s where they’d had their whole beginning, and Hyunjin got there in record time. Kairi meant everything to Chan, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling right now. Chan was always there for him, and he felt personally responsible to make sure he was all right. The old dorm building looked run-down; it had been falling apart for years, even when the boys lived there, and he chose the stairs over the rusty old elevator. On the fourth floor, there was an alcove. It was hidden behind a door that was sometimes locked, but he pushed it open. Chan was sitting inside, on the window seat, a soft smile on his face when he saw Hyunjin approach.

“Just you?” He tilt his head, seeing nobody else follow, “I thought the cavalry would show up”

Hyunjin shot him a soft smile, leaning against the door, “Just me….can I join you?”

Chan pat the empty seat next to him, and Hyunjin sat down. This is where Chan was always found, back when they still lived here. It’s where he came to think. To write their greatest hits. To ponder about life’s biggest mysteries. It was always his place, and Hyunjin could see why he loved it so much. It was hidden, like a secret room. Ignoring the cobweb in the corner, it was cosy. A faded old painting hung on the wall, rickety floorboards that probably hid treasures inside, a window that looked out onto an alley. The alley was something special in itself. It was between two apartment buildings, and a little bakery was carved into the side of the building. The few times Hyunjin sat here with Chan, he’d seen bakers arrive at three in the morning, loading powdered sugar and other ingredients in, creating storms and clouds of sugar. It was always a beautiful sight.

“What happened, Chan?” Hyunjin ended up asking, cutting to the chase. They both knew why he was here. Chan swallowed, looking wistful, “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m going to be okay. I just needed…a day to let the sadness out”

“You can take more than that” 

“Not really. I can’t afford to, not this week. I gotta put on my best self”

“We’ll understand if you don’t.” Hyunjin frowned, admirable of Chan’s resolve, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here” Chan glanced at him, a smile on his face, “I know you are, Jinnie. You’re actually the best, and the worst person to talk to this about”

“Why the worst?” Hyunjin frowned.

Chan laughed, “You don’t want to hear the good part first?”

“No…”

“The worst because…I know what you felt about me and Kairi… I feel responsible for how you see the world, crazy as that sounds. I know you had to hear our arguments the past few weeks, I’m sorry about that. I feel like I took away all your hope.”

Hyunjin swallowed, “It’s not your fault. I’ve had minimal hope to begin with”

Chan laughed, loudly, “God, Jinnie, that’s really fucked up, you know? It shouldn’t be this way. We should be out there, showing our girls the best time”

“You shouldn’t apologize to me for your break up, Chan,” Hyunjin emphasized.

“Wow. Breakup. That sounds insane to say” He breathed in a sigh, as it was finally settling in, “To think I was going to ask her to marry me in a few months”

Hyunjin felt emotional. He’d known and adored their relationship for the longest time, “I’m so sorry, Chan. I don’t know what to say, I wish I could…make this better”

“You don’t have to. I’m…happy you’re here. Kim Soohyun asked to see my phone last night. I don’t know why, but I deleted every conversation with Kairi. I suppose I panicked. I shouldn’t have done that, because now all my best memories with her are just that…memories”

Hyunjin swallowed, and maybe all the reading poetry had rotted his brain. His heart was starting to shrivel, just like the Hydrangeas that were out of bloom. Once he got home, maybe it was the right move to erase his chat history with you too. A small way of shielding himself from the damage that could follow. His memories with you would be lost, but his carelessness would only hurt the boys more.

Chan reminded him far too much of you, the way he held onto memories, objects, and tangible things with an iron grip. He recalled how sad you’d felt erasing the little star you’d drawn from Hyunjin’s face. It had meant so much to you. Maybe he was becoming more like you every day too, which is why the dying flowers still rested on Hyunjin’s desk when he should have thrown them out weeks ago. He ended up saying something that only halfway made sense, “I want to say that…the things we’re meant for will always come back to us, but… I stray further from that thought every day, so I would be lying if I tried to convince you of that” 

Chan smiled sadly, and he held something within his hands, “You’re the most romantic person I know, even without trying to be”

Hyunjin laughed, bitterly, “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed”

Chan turned to him, “Don’t say that, Jinnie”

Hyunjin shook his head, facing him, “I came here for you, not to talk about me…you know you have me, always, right?”

“I know” Chan leaned in, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin. It was an awkward half-hug but Hyunjin relaxed into the embrace, whispering, “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with Kairi”

Chan pulled away, a sincere smile on his face, “Thank you. We should probably get going if we want to make it in time for the conference”

“You’re right” Hyunjin nodded, but they made no attempt to move, trying to lengthen this short-lived peace.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” Chan muttered, and it’s only then that Hyunjin realised what he held in his palm. A diamond ring. The one he was going to propose to Kairi with.

“What?” 

“What our lives are like. Do you never question that?” Chan asked. Hyunjin had never heard him talk like this, and he couldn’t comprehend this. Chan had built them up from the ground up, worked his ass off to get them to where they are. In fact, he couldn’t bear to see this side of him. He shouldn’t be questioning all his hard work, or that all would have been for nothing. Out of all people in the world, Chan couldn't be the one to lose hope. He was their rock.

He felt for Chan. So much. Yet, this train of thought was so dangerous. What would happen to them if they all started hating their job? They had never been forced into this career, they’d made their choices of their own volition, even if it was done as a teenager who didn’t know what he’d be giving up, but they’d gained so much too. The lifestyle Hyunjin led…people would kill for. 14-year-old him would kill for this. And he’d be so proud of him for it too. So, why was he questioning everything now? 

“No, I don’t” Hyunjin said. It was a lie, but he would sell it to Chan, for his sake, “We’re doing something impossible for most people to even imagine in the world. The impact that you have on people is…unreal. Millions of people love you, and you inspire them. You inspire me to work harder everyday. So, I don’t question if it’s worth it, and you shouldn’t either, Chan”

Something in Chan’s eyes changed, as if he had never expected him to say this. Hyunjin, the romantic, would never have said that. Love felt like the core of his life. He was hungry for it, but there was more than one kind of love.

So later that week, when Hyunjin stared at his phone in his hands, it was filled up with memories of you. Every phone call, each picture you’d sent him, each sweet thought he’d scribbled in his notes but never had the chance to send you. The press tour had already begun, and the boys were knee-depth in stress, and Hyunjin could never let himself add to that. Kairi had talked about sacrifices, and he finally understood it. Maybe it was cowardly to never explain to you what was happening, but it was easier. He didn’t have the heart to delete the past few months, so he took Eunwoo’s advice and changed his number instead.

Sorrow settled in his chest as Hyunjin realised that he would go to the ends of the earth for you, but perhaps that wasn’t still enough. He wasn’t willing to give this life up, and this was a sacrifice he was going to have to make.

»»————- Present Day. 

You only had the moonlight to guide you tonight.

There were hardly any streetlights this far out. It was pitch black, and the glow of the moon fell upon Hyunjin’s face, tracing each contour perfectly. You were trying real hard to not look at him. He was drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel and it was annoying. It kept grabbing your attention, and you’d glance at him only to remember you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t spend time marveling at his little mannerisms because…things had changed. 

All you could do was listen to the conversations of the backseat. Chan was mumbling something to Kairi, and their voices had dropped in volume since you’d pulled out of the parking lot. Each syllable was spoken in a whisper, like it was a secret between them, and you felt like you were eavesdropping. Still, there was not much else to focus to. You definitely were not going to focus on the boy sitting next to you.

“I know that it could’ve been better…but I hope that you still had a good time today” Chan said softly, and through the rearview mirror, you saw that they’d laced their hands together. Kairi was leaning into him, fingers interlocked, and you looked down at your hands. The empty spaces between your fingers bothered you. 

“I did, Chris” Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, “Honestly, it was a pretty special birthday”

You averted your gaze, giving them privacy. Hyunjin kept glancing in the mirror briefly before looking back to the road. There was a small smile on his lips. He used to talk about them so much. He must be happy with this outcome. You didn’t know the details of what had gone wrong with their relationship, you’d never pried, but it must have been hard getting back together after all that heartbreak and pain.

“I’m…really fucking tired. I might pass out any second” Kairi announced, followed by a yawn.

“Don’t worry. Hyunjin is a smooth driver” Chan reassured, “Isn’t he?”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes flickering to Chan’s, “Of course. And um, Kairi, if you’re cold, I have an extra jacket in the backseat”

There was rummaging and then Kairi gasped, having found the jacket, “This is so stylish. I missed your clothes, Jinnie”

“Hey, hey. What are you trying to imply?” Chan complained. Kairi giggled, and Hyunjin laughed, “Your girlfriend is a fan of color, Chan. That’s not my fault”

“How predictable of you” Chan mumbled, and you could see him rolling his eyes. You drifted out of their conversation, looking out the window at the passing landscape. Trees drifted by in a blur and there was hardly any civilisation out here. Miles and miles of nothing. 

“Don’t you agree?” Kairi laughed, hand landing on your shoulder, and she was talking to you.

“Sorry?” You asked, “Agree with what?”

“Fuck. Did I wake you?” She apologised, “I didn’t realise you fell asleep”

“No, no, I’m up. I was just distracted….” You replied, clearing your throat. This conversation warranted another glance from Hyunjin, as if he was checking to see what you were distracted by. You returned his gaze with indifference, raising your eyebrows. He immediately looked away, back to the road.

“Well, I was telling Chris that your friends, Minnie and Jamie are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever met. I mean, I hardly see relationships that strong here; people are usually just serial daters” Kairi explained.

“Oh. Right” You nodded, thankful to have the context, “They’re…really cute, yeah”

“A serial dater?” Chan asked.

“Yeah. Dating apps will do that to you, especially in midtown. Take my advice now, never get on one, you’ll be fighting in the trenches” Kairi laughed. The trees were whizzing past so fast it made you dizzy, you mumbled, “It’s funny. Dating apps could never work back home”

“Cause you know everyone? Is that really true?” She asked. You nodded, “I mean, yeah. You go to school with the people technically in your dating age range, and there are only five restaurants and hang-out spots, so you’re always bumping into each other. It’s impossible to not know everyone”

“Was that ever weird?” Kairi asked, “Like seeing your ex at dinner or something?”

A small laugh escaped you, “It actually sucked. You couldn’t escape them”

“Did you ever run into her exes?” Chan asked, and it took you a second to realise the question was directed at Hyunjin. It took him a few seconds and he sat up straighter, mumbling quietly, “No.”

You blinked at his nonchalance, trying not to let this phase you. This could be a normal car ride if you just let it. Suddenly your gut was hurting with anxiety and you looked out the window again, away from him.

“Well, thankfully, I’ve never had to deal with that,” Chan spoke, “Eunwoo would have a heart attack if one of us was found on those apps. Although there’s quite a few fake profiles out there with Hyunjin’s face on them”

“Eunwoo?” You asked, ignoring the second part of his statement. It sent jealousy surging through you. Why did you feel jealous by even the thought of Hyunjin being on a dating app? You needed to get a grip on your emotions. 

“Ah. Hyunjin didn’t tell you?” Chan asked, so casually, “Eunwoo’s…our manager, of sorts”

Without thinking, you spoke, “I thought your manager was the lady in the shop”

“What shop?” Chan frowned, confused, “Wait, hold up. You’ve met one of our managers, Y/N? Where was that?” You stayed silent, for only a second, wondering if Hyunjin would answer this question. After all, he knew the manager and they were in the shop for a reason. The one where he had ignored you completely, as if you didn’t exist. You were only there by accident, after losing your way trying to find the Atelier. To your relief, Hyunjin did speak, “Yeah. That was Mrs. Giwon…she was accompanying me on one of the snack runs”

“Ah” Kairi exclaimed, “She’s…the worst one”

“Hey” Chan spoke, “She’s really helpful sometimes”

“Anyway…moving on” Kairi rolled her eyes, “She kind of traumatised me after she busted us”

“Busted you?” You turned, intrigued. Kairi laughed, “She walked in on me and Chan making out in the studio! God, that day was hell. She like…actually yelled at me for not maintaining a professional attitude in their building”

“And that, of course…led to the no-girlfriend in the studio rule,” Chan mumbled, and through the rearview, you saw him roll his eyes. That seemed like an insane rule to have, especially for adults. You stole a glance at Hyunjin to catch his reaction. He looked straight ahead, as if he couldn’t even hear this conversation, laser-focused on driving the empty streets. Kairi laughed loudly, “Changbin was the most pissed about that!”

“He has a girlfriend?” 

“No. That man’s a serial dater, through and through. He’s too busy producing insane music to have a full relationship anyway. He goes through NDA’s faster than you can say hookup, but honestly…he enjoys himself so much. He’s…very popular with all the girls”

You wanted to ask so much more about that. NDAs…? So that was a truth and not a rumor. Hyunjin had never mentioned those to you. At the paint and wine event, Sakura and Yeosang had asked him about it, and he’d been cautious about answering. But it was true. All of it felt so silly. Their words came back to you. Imagine sleeping with someone and then signing a contract instead of some aftercare.

If you and Hyunjin had hooked up back in Daejon, would he have also made you sign an NDA? But he fingered you. He let you touch him. He let you cut his hair and give him a handjob in his little bathroom. Did that not ask for an NDA? Or did he just trust you enough? All the possibilities floated through your head, and stupidly, like a stupid girl, you blurted, “So what all does that NDA cover? Is it just sex or…is it like, making out and other things too? And it's legally required?”

At your question, Hyunjin’s grip on the wheel tightened. His shoulders tensed up. 

You’d struck a nerve. 

Good. 

It was satisfying to know you had some sort of impact on him. Till now, he was just pretending you didn’t exist. 

Kairi paused, pondering over it, “Um…pretty much just sex, but like…I didn’t have to sign an NDA every single time. It’s only if it’s with a new person"

“Right”

Chan laughed, “I know. It sounds crazy. Especially in the 21st century, but with the internet and everything, you can never be too careful what people will say in a public forum. Hyunjin, didn’t you hate them too when we started out?”

Hyunjin cleared his throat, “Yeah. It’s stupid”

So he would sign them too? How often did he sleep with a new girl? You didn’t want to think about this any longer. There was no point wondering about his past when you wouldn’t be in his future. Your phone buzzed against the console and you grabbed it, positioning it on the seat between your legs so you could read it. It was a text from Felix.

hey. i was just talking with minho and man, i miss you I know you’ve likely forgotten all about me but call me later please…I think ill die here without you

A smile pulled at your cheeks, and you typed in a quick reply.

im getting back from a party lixie. It was kairi’s birthday. i miss you guys too :(

“Who are you texting at this hour?” Kairi piped up, leaning ahead, “Nate?”. You immediately clicked your phone screen black, even though you had nothing to hide. You just shot her a smile, “Just… a friend from back home”

Hyunjin probably knew exactly who you were talking about, yet he didn’t react. His stone-cold demeanour was really beginning to bother you.

“So where were you guys, at the party? When we found you, you two were at the cabins” Kairi spoke, breaking the tension. You swallowed, wondering if he would answer but he obviously wasn’t interested in speaking so you said, “I was dancing. And then…I hurt myself. So Hyunjin took me to the cabin to find a bandaid”

That wasn’t exactly what had happened. You had conveniently skipped over your argument, and the two of you spying on them, but Hyunjin nodded along, following your lie, “Yeah. There were no first aid kits there though”

Kairi nodded, “Shit, yeah. We didn’t think anybody would use the cabins for anything other than sex…anyway, I was thinkingggg we should play some game. It’d be nice to kill the time.”

Chan reminded her, “I thought you were about to pass out, baby”

Kairi was full of energy now as she suggested, “Well, I’m wide awake now! I kind of want the celebration to last a little while longer. Y/N, you can pick a game, since you're my guest of honour! Do you know any good ones?”

It seemed like Kairi and Chan had absolutely no fucking idea what happened between you and Hyunjin. They knew you weren’t together, but it seemed like they knew nothing more than that. Hyunjin hadn’t told them any of the details. They only knew you’d ended things, but not why. By their ease, and comfort…it seemed like they didn’t even know Hyunjin had been the one to end things with you. The memory of that made your chest clench, with hurt.

The heartbreak felt so one-sided. Everything seemed so easy for him. Had you got everything wrong this summer? Had you read too much into his actions? You felt embarrassed, thinking back to the kind of things you’d said to him. You didn’t tell him you loved him, but you pretty much said everything else. He knew more about you than anybody else in your life, and now he wouldn't even talk to you. You’d been willing to move to the city for him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Being in Seoul suddenly didn’t feel worth it anymore.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“We still are two hours out of the city. It’d be fun to play something” Kairi said, glancing at the GPS on the console. Play something? Like a road trip game? This hardly felt like a road trip, it was far too depressing to be one. “I’m…good with anything” You spoke, “I’m kind of really tired”

“How about word association?” Chan suggested, “I used to play that with my family as a kid”

You realised he was waiting for your response so you nodded, “Sure. How does it go…? Is there a way to lose?”

“Only if you take longer than three seconds to answer. We go in a circle, Kairi can start with any random word, you have to say a word related to the previous one, and the person who can’t come up with something loses”

You weren’t really in the mood to play, but you would need more energy to protest. Plus, any time interacting with the back-seaters was time removed with the boy in the front seat. Kairi quickly explained the rules, and that it would go clockwise, starting with Hyunjin. He still hadn’t reacted to the idea of the game so you weren’t even sure if he was playing. Kairi hummed loudly, looking around for inspiration. Dark clouds were forming on the horizon so she naturally said, “Thunder!”

“Storm” You immediately said.

“Well, Hyunjin was supposed to go” Kairi laughed, “I’ll go again. Eclipse?”

“Cosmic” Hyunjin replied. A curt, short, emotionless answer. You realised you had to speak now. You mumbled, “Um…the stars”

“Marilyn Monroe” Chan said. Kairi laughed loudly, “Chris. What the hell?”

“What? She’s…a star” Chan defended. You smiled at their bantering. Kairi rolled her eyes, “No. That’s what’s called a Freudian slip”

“Excuse me?” Chan giggled, “Don’t psychobabble me. What even is that?”

Kairi laughed, “It’s this theory that if you accidentally say something wrong, you were thinking about it subconsciously. Most people are thinking about sex, so that’s what a lot of Freudian slips reveal”

“So what… you’re accusing me of wanting to sleep with Marilyn Monroe?” Chan frowned. She giggled, “No, I’m just saying that’s how it works, smartass. It usually reveals your repressed thoughts”

You glanced back at her, “Yeah. I guess that’s what this entire game is about. Although I really don’t think Freud has had the best ideas. Some of them are…really regressive” 

Kairi grinned at you, nodding aggressively and she was still tipsy from before, “You’re so right, honestly. Most of the people I played this game with had no idea what a Freudian slip was. You know, this is why we’re friends. You’re…so fucking cool. You’re just like me”

“Y/N is not just like you” Chan laughed loudly.

“Excuse me?” She gasped, offended, “You just met her. How would you even know what she’s like?”

Chan chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve been hearing about her all summer—” He suddenly stopped, realising what he’d said. An awkward silence enveloped the car and you did everything not to look at Hyunjin. So… Chan had been hearing about you all summer. You knew Hyunjin had told the boys about you. You just wondered what he’d said. What did he know of you? Chan cleared his throat, embarrassed by his slip of the tongue, “I mean….never mind. Should we continue the game? Hyunjin. Why don’t you start?”

Hyunjin swallowed, adjusting his hands on the wheel, “Um. I don’t know. Sin?”

Your eyes widened at his word choice, and it was your turn to go next. Sin? What was he even thinking of? Your mind went through the seven deadly sins that you knew of, and you only had three seconds so you blurted, “Lust”

It was Chan’s turn now, and he blanked, eyes widening, “Uh…passion?”

You didn’t like this tangent of thought… and you waited for Kairi to say something. Chan teased, “Are you serious? You’re gonna lose”. She yelled, “Wait, wait. I know. Yearning!”

It was Hyunjin’s turn to play. His mouth parted, and he was about to say something, but instead he chose not to. He just shook his head, “I don’t know…I can’t really focus on the game when I’m driving”

Kairi sighed, “Can’t believe you lost on yearning, Hyunjin”

“Yeah. My mistake” He mumbled. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. You didn’t really want to play this game anymore. You stared out the window, your reflection flickering in the window. You wanted to be home already, and not in this car where you felt like a stranger.

There was so much brevity and lightheartedness in the conversations between Chan and Kairi, and here you were…struggling to even get a proper hi out. You felt like a stranger, even to Kairi. You’d only known her for a few weeks, compared to them. The three of them felt like a unit, like a family that was finally complete again. Hyunjin had sang praises of their love, and you could see it now. It wasn’t anything grand or impossible, it was so casual and effortless. Kairi and Chan fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly, but even more than that, they enhanced each other so simply. There was no fear of misunderstandings, or betrayal. They were giggling in the back, laughing about some inside joke you’d never be able to understand. Perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted this ride. Kairi was your friend, but you weren’t really welcome here. You were an outsider. Chan must have wanted to keep the conversation going so he said, “So, Y/N, you were about to tell me about yourself when we got in the car” 

You swallowed, “Um, I didn’t know I was going to be doing that”

Kairi teased, “Yeah, Chan. I thought you knew all about her, and how me and her are so similar”

Chan giggled, “It was a figure of speech. No, but seriously, Y/N”

You bit your lip, and a deep sadness was overwhelming you. One you’d been trying to escape for months but it seemed impossible now. You’d genuinely enjoyed the party, until he’d showed up. He’d ruined everything. It had taken so long for you to not think about him. Now you felt like you were sinking again, “Um…what do you want to know? I came here to study art. There’s not really much to tell…You’re the one who has a really interesting life."

Chan frowned, “Come on. That’s not a real answer. I wanna know you, not answers you’d type in on some Facebook page”

You were at a loss for words, and you mostly just felt conscious around Hyunjin. You always hated introductions like this, and icebreakers, especially around someone you wanted to like you. Chan seemed amazing, he was brilliant so how could your little life possibly impress him? You’d done nothing that would have an impact on anyone, unlike them. Anything you say would be so boring. So you settled for a basic fact about yourself, a preface to your personality, “Well…I used to work in an art—”

“She’s a really good artist” Hyunjin suddenly interrupted you.

Your gaze snapped to his.

“Oh yeah?” Chan asked, surprised.

“Yup” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “She’s in the most prestigious program of the country” 

Chan smiled, “Wow. That’s…amazing, Y/N. You should be bragging about that stuff”

“There’s only like…25 people that get in from across the world” Hyunjin continued talking, staring right ahead so casually. There was a knot in your stomach, and he had the faintest of a smile on his face as he talked about you. It was more than he’d given you in the past hours, “She’s one of the few domestic students”

“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Kairi exclaimed, hand reaching out to tap you. But you were speechless, staring at Hyunjin. Why did he just do that?

“Well, now you’ve got to show me your art, Y/N!” Chan grinned, “Hyunjin’s got pretty high standards when it comes to those, so I’m curious”

You nodded, forcing a smile at him, “Yeah…um, maybe later”

“Well, I hope you taught Hyunjin something too” Chan laughed. 

Hyunjin nodded, and there was a hint of emotion as he spoke, “She did”

You chewed on your lower lip, fiddling with your jacket, thinking about his words, even long after he’d said them.

The barren highway enveloped the car in darkness, and the tiny GPS screen was the only light source. You stared ahead, watching the road lit up in the headlights, uncovering more of the unknown every second. There was nobody else out here. It was spooky, and you hated the feeling. You felt trapped in this metal contraption. Hyunjin’s fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, a familiar rhythm, probably calming his nerves down. The backseat noise had died down, and it seemed like the tiredness had finally hit Kairi. The only indication of passing time was the clock on the dashboard. You watched it tick down every second, hoping it would go faster. The city was still so far out. You leaned back onto the seat, watching trees whiz past in silence. Hyunjin was so quiet you’d almost think he fell asleep. The only surmountable sound was the heating, and the tapping of his fingers. You closed your eyes, hoping the time would pass faster.

You couldn’t help but think of what was waiting for you. There was no lingering excitement. This party had been the only thing you’d been looking forward to for a while. There was so much work back in class, starting Monday. Kim Jieong was expecting so much from you. You felt emotionally drained. He was your only motivation, pushing you to get better. After all, there was nothing else waiting for you back there. 

Suddenly Hyunjin cleared his throat, drawing your attention. From your peripheral vision, you saw him reach for the radio, fingers hovering over the console, and then he looked to you, “Um…mind if I put something on?”

You blinked, distracted by how he looked in the glow of the light. His glasses were thin, hanging on his nose bridge, and his lips were pursed. He’d bitten them raw. Maybe you weren’t the only one anxious in this car. You shook your head, “Go ahead”

He pressed a button, and life filled the previously stagnant car. An announcer was talking, probably at an all-night radio station, and you asked softly, “Wouldn’t this wake them up?”

Hyunjin looked at you again, over the rim of his glasses, eyes meeting yours for another torturous split second. In the dark, they looked like pools of black, a darkened gaze as he spoke, “Uh, don’t worry. I turned the speakers in the back off. It’s only the front ones that are working”

Oh. You didn’t even know that was possible. They obviously had access to the best cars with the best technologies. Music began playing, a rock band from the 80s, and you rest your head again, closing your eyes to savour in this newfound peace. It was strange to sit next to the man you desired the most yet have no conversation. For the past few months, it had been impossible to separate you, and the irony of this moment didn’t fail to surprise you. You’d come all the way to Seoul for him. Yet the only sound in the car was Bon Jovi on the radio. 

“Um—”

“So—” You and Hyunjin both spoke at the same time.

“Sorry,” You apologised, “What were you about to say?”

He glanced at you, hand reaching out to the radio again, and you noticed he had new rings on his finger. They looked so expensive, glittering sparkles, and he must have bought them recently. He seemed nervous and he spoke, “I can…uh, change the music if you don’t like it”

Your eyebrows shot up. That clearly wasn’t what he was going to say. “No, it’s nice. I like him”

He nodded, retreating his hand and putting it back on the console. You wondered about the unspoken, but wondering would only kill you. So you shut your eyes again, hands warm in your lap, wishing to be somewhere else. The tune was thrilling. 

“80’s music is actually one of my favourites”

You opened your eyes to look at him, “Really?”

“Yeah. I think….their songs are pretty incomparable. I actually got a lot of inspiration for our album from them. I don’t know if you heard it; it’s very pop-rock heavy, which isn’t what we usually do” He spoke, a nervous wavering in his voice, as if you two were just getting to know each other. 

You observed him, “Is that what you were going to say earlier?”

“Sorry?” He looked right at you, dark eyes flickering over your features. You felt conscious of how you looked. You were still in his sweater, and your hair was still wet from the swim. You said, “Um…you were about to say something but decided not to. Was that it?”

Realisation sank into his face, lips parting, “No, I was…going to ask you how you met Kairi”

“Oh…” Disappointment filled you. What were you expecting to be said? An apology would be nice actually. Something to start with. You were having trouble grasping that things between you and him were truly over. They couldn’t be. Hadn’t he only come into your life yesterday, uprooting everything you thought you knew about yourself? Or maybe you were just desperately clinging on to a summer dream that wasn’t real.

“Sorry. Should I not have asked?” Hyunjin said. 

“No, that’s fine. It was just a crazy coincidence. We were at a bar…me and my friends, and somebody spilled a drink on her, I just happened to be there. I offered to help her. Obviously…I didn’t know who she was. Later, I realised it was Kairi”

“That’s…” Hyunjin’s fingers adjusted on the steering wheel, he spaced them out, glancing at you again, “That’s really nice of you”

“Yeah”

“Are you cold?” He asked.

“What? Um, no.” You shook your head awkwardly. His sweater was keeping you plenty warm.

“Okay”

The silence drowned you again, and you focused on the song playing, replaying the previous conversation in your head, clinging to it for life.

“I…tried Gouache” 

It took you a second to register that Hyunjin was talking to you, again.

Why was he making an effort after what went down earlier? You’d argued and fought, and now he was…trying to be nice? Was he trying to make amends? Did he finally realise what an asshole he’d been? Or were his memories of summer coming back to him too? Because every time you looked at him, all you could remember was the calmness of each moment you’d spent with him, and how his skin had felt to touch, and how his body had felt against yours, warm and comforting. How could he not be thinking of that?

“Sorry?” You glanced at him. 

He straightened up, hands clasped before him, “I…taught myself Gouache. I hadn’t explored it much before, but I had some time between schedules last month and I decided to give it a shot”

You didn’t know what to say. Gouache was such a difficult pigmented paint medium to work with. You stayed quiet, which somehow… he took a sign to continue speaking, “It was hard…but I found the supplies and tried many styles with it. I couldn’t get it right for the longest time but then realised I had the wrong brushes. I…think I prefer it to watercolor”

“Are you serious?”

He glanced at you, almost surprised that you’d replied even though he had been telling you all of this. He nodded, his lips a thin line.

“Gouache can never have the same effect, or…even replace watercolours. It’s…so much more intense. It loses all of its softness” You ended up saying.

“Have you worked with it before?”

“In class. I do all the time” You answered, “I don’t like it. I prefer acrylics or oil”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes zeroed in on you again, “Do you have the freedom to choose?”

“Choose what?”

“The material you want to paint with” He stated, simply. 

“Yeah. It’s up to us” You said.

Hyunjin just nodded, and then silently turned away. As did you. Queen was playing on the radio now, and you liked this song. Somebody to Love. It seemed like Hyunjin enjoyed this song too, because he reached ahead, his bracelets clinking together and he increased the volume just slightly. You glanced in the rearview mirror, and Kairi and Chan were still asleep, cuddled up to each other. Hyunjin was softly singing, under his breath, but he knew all the words. His voice brought a strange calmness to your body, warming it up.

“I can’t believe you tried Gouache” You mumbled, still thinking about it. You didn’t want to initiate conversation with him, not after everything he’d done to your heart. But you were so curious. It was really hard to work with, especially if someone was a beginner.

“Can I show you something?” He asked.

“What?”

He looked at you, a newfound energy in him, “The…paintings I’ve been working on”

“Unless you’re going to pull over—”

“They’re in my phone. You can just…see them there”

You glanced at his phone that lay on the console.

“Um…are you sure?” You reached for his phone, and it was strange that he completely trusted you with it.

“Yeah. I don’t mind. There’s nothing I have to hide from you. The password…I can just type it in” He grabbed it from you, entering random numbers that you couldn’t grasp the significance of, before handing his unlocked phone back to you. The wallpaper was a pretty sunset. You recognised the landscape instantly. It must have been the pictures he took on the Ferris wheel with Seungmin, back at the summer carnival. Memories of that flooded through you. It had been a perfect day. You recalled the photobooth pictures that lay in your sketchbook, Hyunjin had put them there for you to find. You still didn’t understand why, or how he got a hold of them. As far as you knew, he’d deleted them in front of your eyes. You glanced at him; his eyebrows were knitted as he concentrated on driving, still occasionally mouthing the words to the song. You may never get this chance again. “How’d you get those pictures?” You broke the silence.

It took him a second to comprehend your question, and he turned casually, “Hmm?”

In this angle, confusion on his face, nose scrunched up, he looked so tame, so innocent. You already wished to take back what you’d said, in case it ruin this strange peace. It was too late to back up now as he stared at you so you said, “In my sketchbook, I found the photobooth strip. The pictures of us kissing. I…thought you deleted them”

His eyes widened, and he turned back to the road, voice dropping low, “Oh… It doesn’t really matter, Y/N”

His response irked you. It reminded you again that this was futile, whatever you chased for with Hyunjin. “Yeah. It doesn’t” You agreed, looking back at his phone in your hands. You opened up his picture gallery. Everything was divided into little folders, and his entire life was so organised. If you were his girlfriend, would there be a folder for you in it too? You clicked on the one which was so fittingly named ‘Art’. You were annoyed at him but you couldn’t pretend, “Oh. These are…really good, Hyunjin”

He clearly gravitated towards drawing flowers and landscapes. Some of them were familiar, most of them were new. There were so many pictures of flowers, at all stages. He must be drawing from life. It seemed like he’d developed a lot of art ever since he’d come back. They were all so intense and bold, no softness to them that watercolour provided. You’d always thought that Gouache was something in between watercolour and acrylic, a strange midway compromise, yet Hyunjin had made masterpieces out of it, “You did all of these in Gouache?”

He only nodded in response, as you scrolled through the gallery.

“You’re crazy” You said.

Hyunjin let out a laugh, “You really hate it that much?”

“It’s just difficult to work with, but you’re actually really great at these” You stared at the art, and how his technique had improved. All his lines were more confident, pronounced, bolder. He’d gotten so much better in your absence. You’d only gotten worse in his.

“So…how’s the apprenticeship going? Is Kim Jieong as nice as you thought?” He asked. You put his phone back on the console, even though you urged to see everything he’d felt worth storing in his phone. He had asked you a question so you tried to focus on that, “Yeah. He’s really nice. He is so talented. I, um, asked him about the painting, by the way. The one we were talking about”

“The one about the lovers drowning in moonlight?”

You nodded, hands feeling jittery, unable to stomach this casual conversation, “Yup. He was surprised it was my favourite. He thinks I have morbid taste. And… the day he took us to your work building, he wanted us to meet some gallery curator”

“Must have been Karina”

“You know her?” You glanced at him, hoping your face didn’t give anything away. How petty of you to be jealous that he knew another girl. Another artist at that. 

“She’s the prodigy I was telling you about. She wants me to…exhibit some of my work at a gallery next month”

Your eyes widened, and you fiddled with the zipper on the jacket, “Oh. That’s…a big deal. Are you allowed to do that?”

He looked at you, “Yeah, the company and Eunwoo’s really supportive. The fans love it, so he thinks it’s a great stream of revenue and publicity. Any press is good press. He couldn’t care less about the art” 

“Right” You nodded, watching him, “Well, maybe Kim Jieong will make it a field trip for us again. Your exhibition”

Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’d be really embarrassing. I wouldn’t want all your professional artist friends to judge my work”

“Well…they’re not as pretentious as you might think. My friends…they’re really nice. Everybody’s not bad. I mean…it was hard settling in, but…I think I like it now” You were rambling, without meaning to share so much with him. Maybe you’d just been craving to have a real conversation with him all this while. After all, he was the only person in your life who understood, “And Kim Jieong is my favourite part of it anyway. Even if everybody sucks. I look up to him a lot. He…even calls me sweetheart. It always throws me off” 

“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”

You frowned, not expecting that response, “No…he has different nicknames for everyone”

“I see” His reply was curt, like he didn’t believe that. He cleared his throat, “And um…your friends? The other students? Are they cool?”

“I mean, you’ve already met Jeonghan”

“Is that the boy who you were dancing with?”

“Yeah, that’s him”

Hyunjin stayed quiet for a minute and then he said, “He has two left feet”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry” He chuckled dryly, “When you were dancing with him, he almost dropped you…like ten times”

“He only came to the party for me, because I didn’t know anybody. Don’t make fun of him. He was kind of the best part of my day”

“I’m not making fun of him. It’s just an observation” Hyunjin mumbled, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes and he looked at you, “And I saw your face. You were worried he’d drop you too”

“I was not” Your eyes narrowed, but a stupid smile tugged at your lips, “Anyway. You’re one to talk. You’re probably worse”

He laughed properly this time, looking at you over his glasses, “Oh, am I?”

You shrugged, “We’ve never danced together so it could be true”

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m a professional dancer, Y/N” His tone was cocky.

You sighed, facing away to look out, “Ugh. Do you always have to bring up the idol card?”

“The idol card?” He repeated, “That’s my job, what do you mean?”

“Just seems like an unfair advantage”

Hyunjin chuckled, “Fine. Okay. Even if I wasn’t a professional dancer, I bet I’d still be able to take Jeonghan in a dance battle”

“I’m starting to think that you’re obsessed with him…”

Hyunjin laughed, “I guess I see why you chose him now”

Your gaze darted to his, “What?”

You arrived at a railway crossing. The signal was loud, and he stopped the car, foot on the brake as he slowed down. “He is your boyfriend…isn’t he?” He said, so surely. 

You stared at him, wondering how he could ask that so casually, so unaffected. You’d probably die if Hyunjin had a girlfriend. Did he think you’d move on so fucking fast? You woke and fell asleep to the thought of him every day still, months later. You thought of him every waking second. Maybe you should take a book out of Hyunjin’s ability to be vague, “Are you seriously asking me that?”

He looked at you, eyes heavy with emotion. He swallowed, “Yeah. I am”

You stared right back at him, heart pounding fast, “Yeah. I am dating him”

“Oh” He shifted in his seat, “That’s nice…how long have you known him?”

You couldn’t believe he could be so…casual about it. You looked out, “It doesn’t matter”

Hyunjin nodded, “Well. For what it’s worth, Nate seems like a nice guy”

You just couldn’t comprehend how the fuck he could be so casual about this. As if you two had just been an inconvenient situationship and your lives and souls hadn’t completely intertwined this summer. As if you’d just move away, and get a new boyfriend and fall in love. As if you could ever truly move on from Hyunjin. As if he didn't know that you'd been in love with him this whole time. It wasn’t that simple. It could never be.

“So…you really don’t give a fuck?”

“I’m sorry?” He looked at you, feigning innocence, “About what?”

You could have said so many things. Bitterness clawed out of you. “Well, for what it’s worth, Nate’s a great kisser”

His eyes widened, and he nodded, voice falling low, “I’m sure he is”

You couldn’t stop. You wanted your words to stab him like little knives he’d dug into your skin all this while, “And for what it’s worth, I actually trust him” 

Hyunjin tensed up, fists clenching at the wheel. The train was just passing by, and the signal was so loud but you knew he heard you. “I’m…glad you trust him” He ended up saying. 

You watched him, observing every micro-expression. You could have played along, egged him on, made him believe it. He should hurt too, like you were, but you couldn’t wrap your head around this. Was it really so easy for him to move on? He was pretending like nothing ever affected him. Were you seriously the only one who had been invested in the two of you? You let out a laugh, “So that’s it?”

“What?” He looked at you.

“You don’t care? You really think I would just date…a random guy from my class? Because if you think that, you don’t—”

His brows shot up, “I’m sorry, so you’re not dating him? Why would you tell me you were?” 

“Do you care if I was?”

He frowned, eyebrows furrowing, “Seriously? You know I still care about you, right?”

It pissed you off. He had no right to say something like that when he didn’t give a fuck about you. He had just abandoned you, with no intention of ever making up things, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I mean…everything you’ve done to me the past few months has shown me quite the opposite. That you don’t care”

His eyes widened, “Everything I’ve done to you?”

A scoff escaped you, and you were losing it, “I’m sure you had your reasons for never wanting to talk to me again. I, personally, would have just liked a goodbye or an explanation before you decided to leave. That’s just me though. But you know what? Maybe I read too much in what happened this summer”

He swallowed, shifting to look at you, “Look, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. I didn’t know how to explain and I thought that you would understand—”

How the fuck could he expect you to understand? Your voice shot up, and everything you'd wondered over the past few months bubbled to the surface, “You…pushed me away, Hyunjin. You completely got rid of me! I’m sure you had your reasons, but I wasn’t okay. I’m still not fucking okay. It was a complete asshole move to block me for months with no explanation. I didn’t even know you’re capable of something like that, but you know what, it sucks to find out. In my head, I built you up to be some angel on a fucking pedestal. That was obviously my mistake” 

He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and you could see him grappling with what to say. It felt good to render him speechless. It took away from your embarrassment of knowing that Kairi and Chan could probably hear each second of this conversation. 

“Things were always going to end this way. You knew that, Y/N” The way he spoke pissed you off, like he had a rehearsed answer in his head and no real fucking emotions. Why could he just not tell you what he truly felt? Why was he trying so hard to be someone he was not?

A dry chuckle escaped you, and it was better you take out your anger on him because you felt like crying with each word you said, “No, I didn’t know that. if I knew that you were just going to disappear, I would have preferred never to know you”

His gaze burned through you, “Y/N…”

Somebody suddenly knocked on Hyunjin’s window, and you shook away your building tears. It was an officer, and Hyunjin rolled down the window, “Yes?”

He leaned in, not knowing what he was interrupting, “Excuse me? The signal’s running at a delay. There’s going to be a ten minute hold-up”

Hyunjin nodded, “Oh okay”

He rolled the window back up, and looked back at you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even look at him. You hated him and his fucking nonchalance. You swallowed, “I need some air”

Before he could say something, you opened the door, stepping out. There would be a delay anyway, and hardly any cars were behind you. You walked to the side of the street, taking in a breath, willing yourself to not start fucking cry.

Another car door slammed shut behind you, and Hyunjin followed you out.

“Y/N—” He said, walking around the car, following you to the side.

Your emotions were brimming to the top, and you couldn’t keep it in. It would be petty, mean, childish but you deserved to get some answers.

You turned around, voice raising, “If I hadn’t moved to the city, you would have never met me again” It wasn’t a question. You knew he had no plans of returning to town anytime this century, “And you were just okay with that? With never seeing me again?”

He closed his eyes, his body towering over you, “It’s…not that simple”

“Yeah. It is. You didn’t even think I was worth an explanation…or a proper goodbye?”

“I…didn’t know what to say. You just have to believe when I say I’m doing this for your own good”

“Really?” You scoffed, “You expect me to believe that…? You could’ve said anything.  Anything would have been better than what I got. Just tell me what's going on, please”

“Anything I said would have hurt you” His voice was shaking, like he was going to cry. How could he ever explain that he had picked his life over you? That you were the sacrifice he had decided to make?

You loved him, and you couldn’t bear to be the reason he cried but you had so many questions. Your voice was loud, in disbelief and frustration, “How is this any different? You cut me out of your life like it was nothing”

“It wasn’t nothing. It was just as hard for me as—”

“No, I’m not done talking. After losing you, moving to the city was the hardest thing I ever did. Leaving Daejon behind, all my friends…the only life I knew, and this place where I don’t really fit perfectly, but I’m trying so hard to. It is so hard. The only thing I love…I can’t even love that anymore because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you when I’m painting! It’s not fair. You had a choice, Hyunjin. I didn’t” Your voice broke.

“Before I saw you in the shop, I was this close to calling you up” He held up a small gap between his fingers, “I just…always ended up talking myself out of it”

A scoff escaped you, at the ridiculousness of his response, “I really have a hard time believing that”

“I don’t expect you to believe me anyway” He mumbled. You stared at him, crossing your arms, wondering how everything led to this, “I thought you were different, Hyunjin, from every other guy I’ve known in my life… but you…”

He stepped closer to you, running a hand through his hair, “What was I supposed to say to you, Y/N? That I never want to see you again? Do you think that would be easy for me to say?”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin! I don’t fucking know, but anything would have been better than what I got, because the person I knew would never have acted this drastically. So, were you just pretending in Daejon? Or are you pretending now? Because I’m having a real hard time telling who the real you is, Hyunjin—”

His eyes widened at those words, as if they personally struck him. He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him in the process, “Y/N— Stop. I’m not…I never pretended with you”

His grip on you was firm, but enough that you could let go if you wanted. You looked up at him, and you were already so emotional, “Then why are you being so cold? You’ve been acting like you don’t care, but I don’t even know if you’re acting anymore. I feel like…I never saw the real you. That’s what you’re making me believe”

His closed his eyes, shaking his head at your words like they were the worst thing he could hear, “I’m sorry”

Your eyebrows knitted together, voice fading, “For…what?”

“For…changing my number and not telling you” He swallowed, and his hands held yours in between them like a prayer, “For…trying to push you away. For ignoring you in the shop”

His eyes glimmered with incoming tears, but he cleared his throat, and blinked them away, “I’m sorry I didn’t apologise until today”

You swallowed. You’d been waiting for an apology this whole time, but your heart still hurt. There wasn’t any explanation. You couldn’t…just believe him. Your heart squeezed so bad, it felt like a heart attack. You blinked away tears.

“There’s…a lot I want to talk to you about, but I can’t do it here” He swallowed, and there was a cloud of smoke when he talked, it was freezing outside but your heart felt dead, “You just have to believe me when I say I’m doing this for your own good”

“I don’t understand…”

He closed his eyes, and the train at the signal crossing was still passing, giving you a few more moments of his vulnerability, “I’ve told you before. If we didn’t stop talking when we did…it would have led to something more that I can’t deny. I’m not going to regret my choices because I know why I made them. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I will always fucking care about you, it’s insane to even think anything else but…I can’t be in your life, and you can’t be in mine”

Tears threatened to shoot up, but you had some dignity clinging on so you said, “Then what is this? Why are you still being nice to me, making conversation? Why did you show up tonight? Why are you driving me home? If you don’t want me in your life, then just…stay out of it, Hyunjin”

He blinked, glossy eyes, and suddenly the car behind you honked. The train had passed, and you were free to cross.

His voice was shaking and this was the most emotion you’d seen in him in months, “I…couldn’t leave you at the party. It’s not safe…of course I had to drive you home. I would go insane if something happened to you”

You ripped your hands away from him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not your responsibility anymore”

»»————-

The rest of the ride was fucking horrible. You stared out the window the entire time, and Hyunjin didn’t say anything else. Maybe it really was over now. What was left to salvage? You don’t know how much Kairi and Chan had heard, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were probably getting back together, which meant you couldn’t be a part of this anymore. If Kairi started hanging out with Chan again, you would obviously not be invited. Not after they witnessed you being such a bitch to their best friend. They were friends first, after all. You were the stranger.

“The next right turn” You mumbled, as you approached the street you lived on. Hyunjin brought the car to a stop. They were now awake in the backseat. You didn’t even know what to say. You unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbing your bag of things, avoiding eye contact with anybody, “Thank you for the ride home”

“I can walk you home” Chan offered.

“I’ll be fine. It’s a minute away” You replied, holding your bag to your chest.

“It’s really late out” Chan replied, insisting. You didn’t want to argue with him any further. The longer you argued, the longer you’d have to stay in this car, next to Hyunjin. He was looking at you, but he was pretending real hard not to. The eyes flickering back and forth, it couldn’t fool you. You’d become an expert on all things him. These secretive glances were all you had back then, so how could you not notice them now?

“Don’t worry about it, Chan” You replied, shooting them a smile so they believed you. Chan nodded, and you glanced at Kairi. She looked tired, but she was in his arms, so she was clearly very happy. She smiled warmly, and you wonder if they’d heard you breaking down. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Thank you for a perfect birthday, Y/N. You had a good time?”

“Of course.” You nodded. You were suffocating in here. You reached for the doorknob, but then you heard Hyunjin’s voice, “Good luck with class”

You couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but you’d die for it. You stepped out into the cold, glancing briefly back, “Yeah. Thanks.”

It didn’t matter because he had already looked away. It’s like he couldn’t bear to see you anymore.

»»————-

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your neighbour, Jeongin, stood in the doorway. You had been standing in the cold for a while, staring at the spot the car had been. It had driven off a while ago, but you could still picture it where it stood. The humming of the engine, the heat, the stupid 80s music stuck in your head. You had been so mean to him. He didn’t deserve it.

You looked at him in surprise, “You’re awake?”

“I work on European time” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. It was freezing cold, and you could feel it in your bones. It had never been this way back home. “Let’s just go inside” You spoke.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea” He smiled, pulling you in by your arm, “I was wondering how the party went”

You followed him up the stairs, feeling like a zombie in each step, “It was good. I missed you at it. You should have come”

“I’m sure Nate kept you plenty company” Jeongin laughed, “Are you going to go to sleep now?”

It was almost six am, and the sun was rising. You don’t think you could fall asleep with these thoughts in your head. You glanced at him, “Why? You got something in mind?”

He grinned, like he'd been waiting for you to ask him this. And so you spent the dawn with Jeongin, in his cosy apartment, struggling over a 1000-piece puzzle and downing the red wine he’d brought you. He didn’t ask you any questions, which was nice. You wouldn’t even know where to start. He was sweet and he was always smiling, telling you about his work and all the new video games he’d bought. You prolonged everything, asking more questions, anything to keep the focus on him. You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment and face your thoughts.

“How long have you been living here?” You asked. The window in his apartment was bigger than yours, facing out at the busy street, as the city woke up and came back to life.

“Almost my entire life. Moved here when I was twelve” He told you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be excited about this anymore, or about anything else. You missed your friends, the familiarity and comfort of them. You missed the diner, and it’s cheap coffee.

“Does it ever get easy?”

He laughed, “Honestly, no. Seoul…is hard to fall in love with, but once you do…you never go back”

You sighed, placing the final piece of the puzzle. You missed your art shop. It had always kept you safe and happy. If you knew it was going to be this hard leaving that behind, you would have thought twice, “I think…some people probably never get used to it. That makes me sad”

“Yeah?” He asked, “But you’re used to it now, aren’t you? You once told me it was written in the stars for you to come here”

“I don’t know if I believe in that anymore”

He relaxed on his couch, “I’m sure things will change. You’ll find something worth staying for”

You shrugged, pushing the puzzle to the side and it fell apart, all the pieces getting jumbled up. He didn’t complain about you ruining your hours worth of hard work. He just watched you grapple with your thoughts. You looked up at him, feeling hollow inside, “I think I made a mistake, Jeongin”

»»————-

Kairi had apparently found the best dessert shop in the city. She had pleaded you for hours until you’d decided to come. There were no seats inside the place, it was so busy, and so you and Kairi sat on a patio table outside. You looked around, as you swirled your hot coffee around. There were no leaves on the trees anymore. Winter had finally come.

“I’m going to bring Chris this when he gets back” She spoke, through a mouthful of brownie, “He doesn’t really have a sweet tooth, but I know he will love this. I once baked the boys this cake for Jisung’s birthday, and Chris said he hated it, but I saw him eat all the leftovers later. He literally stole mine too!” She laughed.

“When he’s back from where?”

“Oh, right. They’re in Japan. They had a flight the morning after my birthday, remember? Well, they’re supposed to show up at an event in Tokyo, and then they come back home for a few days, until they go back again. It’s the end of the season so there’s a bunch of award shows” She told you, sprinkling sugar crystals into her coffee. You didn’t know that they were in an entirely different country, “Must be hard. All the flying back and forth”

She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, “Not really. They’re used to it at this point. It’s tiring, but…in their line of work, they have to learn to adjust”

Maybe that was your biggest flaw. You couldn’t adjust. To a different life, to new friends, to a new bed. To a life without him. 

“I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday”

Her eyes widened, and she kept her cup of coffee down, “What are you talking about? You’re the one that made it perfect. You made it happen in the first place!”

“Yeah, but…” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed, “You must have heard us”

She swallowed, “I didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t my business to.”

You looked up at her, “Chan must hate me”

“What? Why would he?”

You looked down, “I’m…an asshole”

She reached ahead, grabbing your hand, “No one thinks you’re an asshole”

You let out a sigh, and you didn’t believe her, but there was no point arguing. 

The next week, the boys flew back home. You only knew because Kairi told you. She had been counting down the days till they returned. She invited you out to a small get-together, but they would all be there. You said no. 

Slowly, all your plans with Kairi became into plans with Kairi and Chan. You wouldn’t mind at all, because you loved Chan. You just hated that he almost always came with Hyunjin. So you never went to any of those. He would be grateful. He probably never wanted to see you again either. Your time with Kairi became divided. You didn’t blame her. She was in love, and you wouldn’t deny her any time with him. It became obvious how much happier she was around him.

A week later, you realised you still had Hyunjin’s sweater that he’d given to you at the party. So, you washed it and returned it to Kairi, hoping he wasn’t angry that you kept it with you for so long. You’d truthfully forgotten. You wouldn’t want to keep anything of his longer than you had to anyway. 

»»————-

Nate was staring in awe at your painting. It was balanced on the easel, and you stood next to it, embarrassed at the attention it got. Nate laughed in disbelief, “Holy shit. That’s…beautiful. When did you get the time to make that?”

It was show-and-tell day. You were almost in the middle of your semester, and you were supposed to display your best work in class. You looked back at your painting. Ever since Kairi’s birthday, you hadn’t left your room. You’d been fixated on this. There was only one good thing left for you here, and it was this opportunity. You’d do anything to grasp at it, and maybe all your sadness and heartbreak had ended up being perfect inspiration. You had been endlessly inspired, each brushstroke came to you so easily. Perhaps all good art did come from suffering. Your best work to date you’d done when feeling your worst. You’d sniffled, and cried and fought your way through it.

“I…found time” You shrugged. Your hands were folded behind your back as you explained it to every single person who passed it. All the easels were set up in a circle, and it was almost like those expensive Château classes you could never afford to go to. Nate smiled at you, tilting his head, “You’re so mysterious. It suits you”

“I’m really not trying to be” You replied, “It just…came to me”

His eyes trailed over you. You’d tried to dress your best, an outfit you’d bought off the fancy boutiques, and it had cost you a fortune but none of your own clothes would fit the vibe. Nate’s voice dropped, “Is it weird if I say that you being coy is a turn-on?” 

You smiled at him, wondering why his words had no effect on you. He made you feel wanted. He flirted with you endlessly. He was attracted to you. He actually wanted to talk to you. 

But you knew that was all. He didn’t want to date you. He certainly didn’t have any intentions of a relationship. Perhaps, you didn’t want to just be wanted anymore. 

“Mmh. It’s…a little weird” You teased him.

Kim Jieong approached you, and you straightened up, pulling Nate to the side. He glanced at your painting, and he certainly looked impressed. There was a small smile on his lips, and he was observing your art with all the focus in the world, “How many hours did you spend on this?”

“Maybe…twenty”

He laughed at your feeble attempt of lying, “That looks like…it took a hundred, at the least. Is it all you did this week?”

You nodded, “That’s what I’m here for”

He looked at your painting again, “As your professor, I have to say that I wish you hadn’t sacrificed sleep for this, but…” He leaned in closer, voice dropping, “This is exactly why I picked you, sweetheart”

Your eyes widened, not used to this proximity, but you felt so special. He hadn’t said this to anybody else. He was far too close to you, but you blinked at him, “Are you proud of me?”

He laughed, lifting a finger up, “You’re not there yet”

Your face fell.

“I’ll be proud of you if you can get that done in a day” He smiled wide, hands clasped behind his back, “You should start preparing for next week. I want you to make something special. If you win, it’d mean a lot for you, Y/N”

You nodded, remembering the assignment. The best painting in the class would be chosen for a prize. A scholarship, and the chance to get your work displayed in Seoul Museum of Art. It would certainly make everything much easier, taking the burden off you, and you’d also get a perfect start. You would finally be able to prove your worth here.

»»————-

You’d been painting all day, and your clothes were ruined with stains. You were working on the assignment for next week, it had to be perfect to win, and you hadn't got much sleep, completely immersing yourself into this. In a little break, you laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the call to go through. Yeonjun picked up your phone call, and he sounded so happy on the other end. It had been a while since you’d talked to him and he apologised, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work. There was a company retreat last week, and we went out to these cabins in the woods. It was straight from a horror movie, and there was no network there. I took some pictures for you though”

“How did it go? That sounds nice, to be away from everything”

He laughed, “It was. I missed you though. But…I have some news to tell you…something happened”

“Yeah?”

“Remember the girl from my work I said was cute? She…kissed me. We actually, ended up making out in the hot tub. It was really fucking nice” You could imagine him smiling on the other end, and it warmed your heart. You sat up, smiling, “Are you serious? That’s so…amazing. So…you guys made out? Is that all that happened?”

He laughed on the other end, “No. We…slept together. Every night of the retreat”

Your eyes widened, “You’re kidding me. So, you really really like this girl”

“I mean, yeah, things with her are so…simple and easy. She gets me, and she’s so fun to be around. Sometimes that’s just how it has to be”

You thought of the polaroids on his desk of Hana, “Did she never ask about the pictures on your work desk?”

Yeonjun laughed nervously, “I…ended up taking those down. It’s easier to move on that way. I mean, I won’t ever be over her, but…it’s a start”

“Yeah. You’re probably right”

“I may have discovered a new kink about myself” He joked, “I have an urge to just move to that cabin and live in that hot tub forever”

You smiled, “Maybe you should”

“How about you though?”

“Well…I’ve been trying to make my magnum opus. If I have the best painting in class, I get to win this insane amount of money for a scholarship, and…it’ll be perfect”

“Well, you’re obviously going to win. I already know you’re the best in class”

You smiled, “I appreciate your faith in me…I think I’m going to start working on it in the classroom. It’s going to be a really big canvas, and there’s not much space in my apartment”

“That makes sense. And um, I wanted to ask, how are things with…Hyunjin? Did you guys ever talk after you saw him in the shop?”

You lay back down, and the lie was on easy on your tongue, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since then”

“Wow. He…hasn’t even reached out to you?”

You shrugged, echoing his words from before, “I don’t care. It’s easier to move on that way”

»»————-

Your canvas lay across multiple tables, occupying most of the space in your classroom. You’d joined them all together, it had taken a lot of strength, but it was worth it. Now, you sat on top of the paper cross-legged in the center. It was easier to work this way, as if the entire floor was your painting. You hope you weren’t breaking any rules by being in the classroom after hours. You’d just wanted some time to work on your painting, and you weren’t exactly inspired at your place. Your anger from the past few days had manifested into this; an insane obsession to make this your best work ever. You would prefer that over sadness. This, after all, was the only reason you’d come here. Not for him. It was almost midnight, and you scooted across the canvas, filling in more details of your sketch. Your plan was far too ambitious, but you were going to have to go all out to win the contest. It was the only thing you cared about right now.

“I didn’t know anybody was in here” The voice made you jump. Nobody was supposed to come in here right now, the building was shut down. You glanced up, watching Kim Jieong walk in, and you smiled at him, “Professor. Hi”

His eyes narrowed in on your silhouette, and a familiar smile across his face, “Oh, it’s you. What…in god’s name are you doing on top of the tables?”

“Um, my canvas is pretty big, so I thought it’d be easier to work like this” You explained. He laughed loudly, “You’re adorable, Y/N. You know that?”

You sat back down comfortably, realising he would let you stay here, “Um. Thank you, professor”

He looked around, “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt you. Why is it so dark in here though? I can hardly see you"

Adjusting your canvas and brushes around it, you spoke, “I like it that way. I think much better in the dark, the lights were too bright. Plus, the moonlight looks really nice”

You think he smiled at your words but you couldn’t tell in the dark. You could barely see him, just his silhouette and you heard him laugh. You heard his footsteps as he approached his own desk, “So, we’re far from the final project. I’m curious why you’re in the studio”

You bit your lip, feeling anxious about all this effort you were putting in, “I’m working on the contest painting. The scholarship…I really want to try my best. I also don’t work too well at my apartment, I thought maybe I could work here”

“When I got a notification that a student was still in the studio, I was curious. I had to cut my dinner short”

“Oh” You blinked, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it notified you…”

“Of course, it’s for the safety of our students” He smiled, stepping towards your workspace, “Would you indulge me in what you’re working on…or is it a surprise?”

Your canvas wasn’t ready to show, “I’d prefer if you see it when it’s finished”

He laughed, and asked, “May I sit next to you?”

“Oh, you won’t be getting back to your dinner?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, I’d like to stay here with you”

He was perhaps the only person in the world you wanted to be around right now, so you didn’t mind. His presence would calm and comfort you, “Of course. That’d be fine with me, professor”

He pulled a stool up close to your workspace. The greenhouse-studio was deathly quiet and he inched closer to your table. You stared at your big sketch, “I’m really sorry about interrupting your dinner. I thought it’d be fine if I let myself in”

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. My wife was pretty tired anyway. Just gave us a reason to end the night early”

He was at dinner with his wife? You didn’t even know he was married, but he was in his late thirties so it made sense. You continued adding details, but you couldn’t focus when he was observing you so close. Thankfully the dark could conceal your expressions and embarrassment. You ought to feel proud. The greatest artist in the country was here to watch you paint.

“Have you…eaten dinner yet?” You heard him ask. You glanced up, gesturing to the side of the classroom where your leftovers lay, “Yeah, I had some chinese takeout. Although when I’m painting, I don’t get hungry for hours.”

He just hummed in response. You were grateful that your mentor wanted to sit with you so badly that he skipped dinner with his wife. But the other part disliked the supervision, and you did want some alone time. Still, he was the greatest living artist, so you’d learn to adjust to it. After everything that had happened, he was also your only hope of making it big in the city. He was the sole reason you were still here, spending thousands just to stay in Seoul so you could attend the classes. You looked at him, and he was admiring you while you worked, so you said, “I might be here all night. I wouldn’t want to keep you"

He frowned, “I don’t mind staying. I could get some work done too”

“Oh…sure” You looked back at your sketch, erasing off a mistake. He stood up, walking towards the cabinet, sifting through canvases. Usually, you weren’t awkward around him, but right now it was really late and you were tired to make small talk. But it’d be weirder if you just stayed quiet. You felt a need to fill in the silence with anything, “So, Professor, um…your wife. How did you meet her?”

He shrugged in your peripheral vision, not particularly excited to answer, “The usual. We were high school sweethearts. Got married as soon as we graduated. I was too focused on my art to pursue other women anyway”

You nodded. Well, that made it even more awkward. So you kept going, “Right. Wow. High school, that’s really cool. Was she…any of the inspirations for your paintings?”

“Some of them, yes”

“That’s really nice.” You smiled, sketching out the boundaries for the stars. The idea for this painting had come to you after waking from a dreamless sleep. You’d ended up researching for it for hours, making sure you were portraying accurate art. You couldn’t wait to present your concept next week.

“What about you?” He asked.

“Sorry?” 

“You have a boyfriend?”

You blinked, a nervous laugh escaping you, “Um…not currently. I’m also…I guess, trying to focus on my art, and build a career from it”

He smiled at you, crossing his arms, “Guess we’re more alike than I thought”

You looked back at your canvas as he walked closer to you, “The temptation to understand your sketch is a lot. Can you give me a hint as to what it’s about?”

You slid your sketchbook towards him, where you’d drawn up a miniature version of the sketch, “All I can tell you now is that it’s…a landscape, inspired by my time in the city so far. I was walking home the other night and I couldn’t help but notice the night sky. I’ve always liked it, and I know it’s been overdone in art, but I wanted to explore a new side of it. Someone once told me that there’s no stars in the city, which just…sounds so sad. I was thinking along the lines of that. What do you think so far?”

He pushed his glasses up, a proud smile on his face, “I think that…I’m incredibly lucky to have you. I can't wait to see what you'll do with this”

Your eyes widened, unsure how to respond, “Um…I mean, we’re the lucky ones. We get to study under you, Professor”

He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty studio, “Stop calling me Professor. I think you and me are way past that, don’t you?”

“It’s…only appropriate.” You frowned, going back to work. That was weird. You don't think you would feel comfortable calling him by his first name. And then, you felt another stupid need to fill in the prolonged silence. He was here watching you after all, you could just ask him all the things you’d wondered for years, “Um, I wanted to ask. The painting about the moons. Celestial Fatality. Did you paint that when you were in college?”

He hummed mindlessly, not really answering your question, then he grabbed your sketchbook off the table. Eyebrows furrowed, he stared at it, "I think you can work on your perspective, but these are nice. These hands. You’ve drawn them countless times”

“Yeah” You felt embarrassed, and climbed off the table so you could also see what he was looking at, “It’s a friend from back home”

“Did you draw these from observation?” He asked, as you joined him at his side.

“Hmm. He really wanted me to draw his hands,” You said, recalling the time Hyunjin made you observe them.

Kim Jieong laughed, “Can’t blame him”

A nervous laugh escaped you at those words, “Yeah.” What did he mean by that? You reached to get your sketchbook back. Instead of handing it to you though, he sat down on the desk, turning the pages of your book, “These ones are pretty good too”

“Yeah” You nodded, taking a seat next to him, unsure of what to do, “I made those a while ago”

As he turned another page, something drifted out, landing on the floor. Your eyes widened, and you reached for it. The photobooth strip pictures of you and Hyunjin. You felt embarrassed, but thankfully, Kim Jieong didn’t notice or see them fall out. You grabbed them, hiding them between your palms on your lap. There was nothing wrong with him seeing them, but…it was embarrassing and stupid to carry around pictures of a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 

“You’re very talented” Kim Jieong spoke again, voice dropping low.

“Oh…thank you. It means a lot hearing it from someone like you” 

He finally put your sketchbook to the side, looking right at you. He did look kind of intimidating in this light, towering over you, “This scholarship means a lot to you?”

You swallowed, feeling embarrassed, “Yeah. I could use the help. It’s an expensive life here, and I’d really appreciate it. Plus, the exhibition would be a great kickstart to…a career”

“The others don’t need the scholarship. They just want it so they can win” He said, then leaned forward, “Don’t the rich kids get on your nerves sometimes? They don’t act out of necessity, but you…” He pointed a soiled paintbrush at you, “You’re wonderful because… you’re desperate”

“I’m sorry?”

“Desperate to be seen, and respected. As an artist, I mean. I don’t mean that badly, but all great inventions are born out of necessity. I think that’s why you stand out from the rest”

You didn’t know how to take this compliment, “I guess”

“You know you have the potential to go so many places?” He asked, tilting his head, waving your sketchbook about in one hand. It was so dark in here, and the building was completely empty except for the two of you. This…felt increasingly inappropriate. You were in the studio after-hours with your professor and he was far too close for comfort. He was your favourite artist…but he was still a grown man and you didn’t want to overstep as a student.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged and stepped closer to you, caging you against the table, “I mean, the right people can get you into any exhibition you dream of in the world. Paris, New York, Seoul. Isn’t that what you fantasise?”

An awkward chuckle escaped you. He was far too close to you, “Yeah. That’s the end goal. The scholarship…would definitely make it easier to get there”

Suddenly, the sound of roaring thunder distracted you and you looked to the windows. The clouds had now hidden the moon, casting a dark shadow over the entire art studio. A chill ran up your spine, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable at his proximity.

“Um..I think the last bus home leaves in twenty minutes. I’ll try to catch it” You stated, shooting him a smile and standing up.

You took your bag, but Kim Jieong grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him, “You can always convince me”

“Sorry?” You fumbled, stupidly. You…had to have heard him wrong. What was he talking about?

He smiled sweetly, and in the dark, his glasses glittered, “If you won the scholarship, the other students wouldn’t question it, you’ve already proven your worth to everyone”

“Right” You were unsure what he was trying to say, or hinting at. What the fuck did he mean by saying that you could convince him? “I should really go”

“It’s pouring. You’ll catch your death out there, Y/N” He stated, pointing to the storm outside. You swallowed, his grip on your arm foreign, “That’s fine. I have an umbrella”

“Ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride home” He shook his head.

“You really don’t have to. I already feel bad for ruining your dinner”

“Oh, stop apologising, Y/N. Your sweet talk drives me mad sometimes” His hand moved from your arm to your waist, wrapping around it and he pulled you closer to his body, "You stress too much. You need to learn to let things go”

You took a step back, unsure how to process this, “Professor…”

He closed the distance, and his other hand grabbed your chin, voice low in the dark room, “Why do you seem so nervous? You don’t have to be around me. We’re just talking, aren’t we?”

“Right” You were having a hard time breathing, panic surging through you. He was right. Of course. He was your professor. He would never hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He was a living legend. You shouldn’t be nervous. He was just being kind to you. He was the only person you’d looked up to your entire life, the reason you’d tried so hard to come here, and he would never do something wrong.

“I can see you struggling in class, and I know you’re doing everything you can to prove your worth. I’ve asked you this before, about what your dream is. ” He spoke, voice as low as a whisper, fingers gripping your jaw. 

“I…I don’t know what you mean” Your voice was shaking from the nerves, with no fucking idea how to navigate this situation. If you pushed him away, you’d lose all chance of winning the prize.

“Well….whatever it is” He smiled sweetly, and in the low light he looked less like the mentor you’d grown up loving and more menacing, “All you have to do…is ask me”

His eyes flickered to your lips, and back to your eyes. His grip on your waist was so tight, it felt like his palm was burning into your skin through your shirt. Had you somehow given him an alluded hint? He took a step even closer.

“I’m sorry….” You pushed him just enough so he wasn’t holding you anymore.

He looked surprised, eyes wide, and he laughed, “Y/N…What are you doing?” You grabbed your bag in a hurry, “I’m sorry. I should really go. The last bus…”

He called after you, but you rushed through the glass doors to the emergency stairwell. You didn’t want to be stuck in the elevator with him. You couldn’t breathe, legs moving off their own accord. A flash of lightning through the glass windows scared you, and you all but ran down the emergency stairwell, bag hanging off your shoulder, fists clenched. What the fuck. He obviously wasn’t making a move on you, right? You were just being paranoid. He was your professor. He was…the most famous artist in Seoul. He was the kindest person ever. You had to have been reading into things. 

You pushed the heavy door open, walking out onto the street. It was pouring rain, and you let out a breath, taking in the air. The rain soaked through your clothes, and you were shivering. You wanted to call Hyunjin so he could pick you up and so you could cry in his arms, the only place where you'd feel safe, but he'd never even given you his new number. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. You looked down at your hands, and in your tension…you’d completely crushed the photobooth strip to pieces. 

Raindrops slowly trickled down, tracing the ruined paper in your palm. The only memory left of you and Hyunjin was now gone.

»»————-

You didn’t show up to class the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

You were still trying to wrap your head around it. Were you stupid for declining his advances and whatever he was suggesting? You couldn’t go back to class and face him. You’d be too embarrassed of your reaction. Maybe he wasn’t even suggesting anything and you jumped to conclusions. You had to have been imagining things. After all, he didn't actually do anything. Still, you’d ruined all your chances of getting the scholarship and succeeding in his class. What if he brought it up in class? What would the others think?

Your body was shaking from the cold. The heating in your apartment wasn’t working, so you sat on the floor, back to the kitchen counter, knees pulled up. You’d forgotten your huge canvas in class too, and it was probably in the garbage by now.

Your phone buzzed loudly, and Felix was calling. You picked up so he wouldn’t worry, but your voice sounded hollow, “Yes?”

“Babe. Where have you been? You’re not answering any texts the past week”

“I’m sorry…I got caught up in things. Is everything okay, Felix?”

“More than okay” He smiled on the other end, “I’m at the diner. They’re throwing a big party tonight! Apparently, it’s been ten years since it opened! Can you believe it?”

“Wow…it feels like we’d been going there our whole life”

“That’s what I said!” His excited voice came in, “So anyway for their anniversary celebration…all the drinks and food is free. You best believe I’m making full use of it”

You could hear so many familiar voices in the back, “Who all is there…?”

“Umm…well me and Minho, obviously. Hana’s here too. Seonmi, Eunbi and the others. Seungmin’s here as well.”

“Wow…I really wish I was there, Felix”

“Mm, I wish that too. Your apprenticeship better be worth it, Y/N. You’re missing all the good stuff. And everybody in Daejon misses you a lot. Mrs. Aera came up to me today and said the shop’s a mess without you haha”

“Really? It is? Mina isn’t taking care of it?”

“Ah, you know how Mina is. She can’t organise for the life of her. That shop was basically running because of you” He laughed, and you could hear him chew something.

“What are you eating?”

“Blueberry-chocolate waffles. There’s this new recipe Seonmi is trying out, and it’s so good. You should have it when you come back. How about you, love? Are you missing me a lot?”

“So much” You mumbled.

“Kim Jieong better be worth it” He sighed, “I guess I forgive you because you’ve been obsessed with him for years. Is he as dreamy as you imagined?”

“Um…” Your gut hurt, the memory of that night flooding through you, “Yeah. He’s…great”

“I’m sure he is” Felix chuckled, “I still remember how you stole all the magazines in the library that had his paintings in it”

“I didn’t steal them” You protested, “I just…borrowed them for a really long time”

He laughed, “To fawn all over your artist crush. I get it. And…what about your other lover? You accidentally bumped into him yet?”

You forced a smile, not having enough energy to protest that he wasn’t your lover, “No…I haven’t seen him”

“Well. Seoul isn’t that big, I’m sure you’ll find him. Or he’ll find you. Oh, I also forgot to tell you! A new cafe opened up in Daejon last week. It’s some fusion book-and-coffee cafe. They actually have the best coffee in town, no you didn’t hear me say that Seonmi” He started laughing, and you could hear them in the background. Suddenly, the past few months felt like a joke.

There were only two reasons you’d uprooted your life and come here. Now, you’d lost them both. 

So why were you still here?

Maybe you had acted rashly. You thought you’d fit in here, and that this was where you were meant to be. You’d felt stuck there, but here you weren’t any better. You'd probably only found the courage to come here because you knew Hyunjin was here too, and that was clearly...not the right thing to do. He didn't even want you near him, or anywhere in his life. He had made that plenty clear.

“I think I made a mistake” You whispered.

“Sorry?” Felix asked, still laughing loudly, “What mistake?”

“Moving out…I shouldn’t have done that”

“Wait…what? What do you mean?”

“I think I should come home”

“You’re messing with me. Right?” Felix laughed, “Didn’t you want to move to the city since you were fifteen?”

“But I was a kid. I didn’t know anything. I had no idea what to expect”

“Y/N…what are you saying?”

“I was happy in Daejon. I should never have come to Seoul” You stood up, moving to your bedroom.

It was like a parasite, an idea festering into your brain and heart, that maybe this was the reason for this unhappiness. Things were perfect in Daejon. Why had you been complaining all your life? All of your happy memories were there, so the logical thing to do…was go back to where they were created. Then you’d be happy again. You hadn’t learnt how to be happy in this house, in this city, in this new life. 

“Babe. I would be the happiest boy in the world if you came home to me, but maybe you should think this through. Did something happen? Why are you being like this?”

You grabbed your duffel bag off the shelf, “I can’t go back to class, Felix! I can’t. I messed up, big time”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t. You could never—”

“You don’t even know what happened!” You yelled. He fell silent on the other end, “Love. Just…what’s going on?”

You stared at your empty bag, “I’m…coming home. I should never have come here”

“Is that Y/N?” Minho’s familiar, comforting voice came in. You wanted to hug him and never let go. They were so far away. “Yeah” Felix responded to him, voice falling, “She says she’s…coming home”

“Give me the phone” Minho mumbled, “Y/N. What’s going on?”

You tossed your clothes in your bag, messily zipping it up, “I can’t stay here, Min”

“But what about the art classes?”

“If I don’t withdraw, I’ll probably be kicked out anyway” You mumbled, “I didn’t go to classes all week"

“You should think this through”

“I have thought it through! It was a stupid fucking mistake. One I needed to make. You know what they say anyway. The grass is greener on the other side. I just fell for the charms of the city, like everybody else”

“No disrespect but you’re making no sense” Minho’s voice was harsh, “You can’t just give up”

“Can you give the phone back to Felix please?” You asked.

“Fine” You heard it being passed around and then his voice came in, “Love. I’m here”

“Lix” You swallowed, “I know it seems like I’m being irrational, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I know it’s embarrassing and stupid, but maybe I was never supposed to be here”

Felix’s voice was so soft, calm, encouraging. You just needed to be near him, in his arms. “I believe you, Y/N. I’m gonna be okay with whatever you decide. I just really want you to think about this”

“I…I want to hug you, Lix” A sniffle escaped you, “I don’t want to go back to class” The idea had completely taken over you.

“Are you sure?”

“Nothing can make me stay” You swallowed. There was a sigh of resignation on the other end, and you knew he wouldn’t fight with you. He would agree with whatever you decided, and that’s what you needed right now. That’s why you called him, and not Yeonjun, or your other friends. Felix was the one person who wanted you home more than anything. He wouldn’t talk you out of it, even if this seemed like the stupidest decision you might be making. 

“What do you need me to do?” He asked, voice soft on the other end. Relief spread through you, and you stopped to look at the window outside your apartment, “A train ticket.”

You could sublease your apartment. You could figure the rest out from the comfort of your real home. You could go back to Aera’s, and get your life in order. You’d find a way to love Felix back. After all, he was the only one who wanted you the way you needed to be wanted. Maybe you were destined for that kind of life after all, where everything stays the same everyday. But that’s good, it was safe. The boy you loved had made you think that you belonged in the city, but he couldn't be more wrong.

That’s what you told yourself, at least, ripping your paintings off the wall. In your short-lived time here, you’d made and put them up to feel less lonely. There’d be no room to carry them back, so you bunched them up, carrying them to the garbage disposal in your apartment. As you shoved them in the disposal, you felt nothing. The hallway was warmer than your apartment and it made you feel a tad better.

Your phone buzzed again, and Felix had sent you something. The train ticket he’d bought for you. It was for tomorrow morning. You knew that you could always trust Felix, with anything. He would always be there for you, if nothing else. Perhaps you'd taken your friendship with him for granted this whole time.

“Need some help?” Jeongin asked. He was coming up the stairs, probably after having heard your struggle with the garbage. You shot him a smile, nodding. He came over, helping you, “Are you redecorating?”

“You could say that…”

“Wait. Are these your paintings?” He realised, stopping halfway.

“Can you help me with something?” You looked at him. He looked confused, and he was frowning, “Um. Sure. What do you need help with?”

“My suitcases…I don’t think the elevator is working”

“Are you going somewhere?” He tilt his head, further confusion scrunching his face. In another life, you and Jeongin could have been really good friends. 

“I’m just going home for a while” You mumbled, shutting the garbage door. For a while would be forever. He didn’t need to know that. It’s not like he would be sad, or miss your presence. 

“Oh. Okay. Of course, I’ll be there in a bit”

Back in your apartment, your phone buzzed again. It was your groupchat with Jeonghan and Minnie. You skimmed through the messages, feeling regretful.

yn are you sick? what’s going on? professor jieong told us you weren’t eligible for the prize anymore

You turned your phone off, staring outside the little kitchen window. The traffic wasn’t as loud as usual. It was a quiet night.

You hugged yourself, trying to find a singular reason to stay. Why had you wanted this life for so long? It had given you nothing but heartbreak, yet a part of you was so sad about leaving tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes shut, a single tear escaping. Maybe you wanted a sign to stay, despite everything in you screaming to leave. When you opened you eyes, your reflection mirrored on the glass pane and then you saw it.

A snowflake drifting down. It twirled in place and your eyes followed its path before it settled on your ledge, quickly crumbling into nothingness.

And then more followed, a flurry of snow falling like stardust. It was beautiful, a cloud of white enveloping everything so quickly, covering the street below. 

Your first snow in the city. 

A bitter smile tugged at your lips. 

The doorbell rang.

Jeongin was already here to help you with the bags. 

So much for a sign.

You grabbed your duffel, and your suitcase, wheeling it out. The quicker you moved with things, the easier it would be. Reaching for the rusty brass doorknob, you pulled the door open.

“Can you take this one? I’ll bring the other” You mumbled, pushing your things out. He nodded, still seemingly confused but he asked no questions, “What time’s your train?”

“In a few hours” You glanced at your phone, “But if there’s going to be a snowstorm, I’d prefer being at the station early…”

He grinned, still so happy and you wish he could share his secrets of eternal happiness, “Smart move. If it was me, I’d probably miss my train. Can’t tell you how many times that’s happened”

You smiled at him, “I can’t afford that”

“I called a taxi cab for you” He said. You nodded, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Thank you, Jeongin”

You stepped back into your apartment. There wasn’t much you’d brought with you, so there wasn’t much you had to take back. You’d never grown fond of this apartment. It had always felt like an inbetween place, while you waited your life to be perfect. Waiting was doing no favours for you.

You shoved your sketchbook into your duffel, putting on your coat before closing the apartment door behind you, and your throat closed up as you realised what you were doing. This was so fucking stupid, and this was rash but what else could you even do? Maybe you could come back to the city in the future if you wanted, but right now it was a terrible decision. You would go back home and you would hug Felix, and maybe you would kiss him and the ache in your heart would be better. The thought of his arms around you, as someone who genuinely cared about you, already made you want to cry.

You unceremoniously dragged your bag across the landing, and the taxi must have arrived already because you heard a loud honk.

It was freezing in the otherwise heated hallway. Your breaths came out in soft mists.

The door downstairs must have been left open, sending cold winds and flurries of snowflakes up the apartment. 

Jeongin would never forget to do that…

As you approached the top step with your bags, you realised who’d left it open.

Draped in a beige trench coat, cheeks red from the cold, Hyunjin stood at the bottom of your staircase.

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masterlist ⇒