ｃｈｏ　ｍｉｙｅｏｎ

She let out a small sigh through her nose, though there wasn't much frustration behind it anymore. "Not anytime soon." She smiled, but this one was softer, more accepting. "The comeback's only just started, so we've got music shows, fansigns, interviews... the usual." She lifted one shoulder. "I can't complain too much. Neverland have been incredibly kind." Kinder than I probably deserve right now. The thought surfaced quietly before she tucked it away just as quickly. Tonight wasn't about lingering there.

Keeping busy had become Miyeon's newest coping mechanism. Movement meant fewer thoughts. Another schedule. Another errand. Another place to be. As long as she kept moving, there was less room for her mind to wander back to the places it insisted on returning to. That was how she somehow found herself standing outside a small pottery studio. Truthfully, she wasn't entirely sure what she was doing there. Maybe she had seen the sign while walking. Maybe she simply didn't want to go back to the quiet apartment waiting for her. Either way, a few minutes later she was stepping inside, greeted by the warm scent of clay and drying paint. "You’re a little early," the instructor smiled. "Feel free to have a look around. Everyone else should be here soon." Miyeon thanked them quietly before wandering through the studio, hands tucked behind her back as she admired the finished pieces lining the shelves. Carefully painted mugs. Small bowls. Crooked little figurines that somehow felt more charming because they weren't perfect. Then her eyes caught the engraved messages.

Forever.

Always.

Home.

Her smile faltered. Without thinking, she moved past them a little quicker. One small ceramic vase caught her attention instead. Simple. Elegant. She reached for it, turning it carefully between her fingerr. Only for it to slip. Her breath caught. Instinctively, she squeezed her eyes shut, already bracing herself for the sound of shattering porcelain.

A moment passed.

It never came.

Instead, another pair of hands caught it effortlessly just inches above the floor. Miyeon's eyes fluttered open, following the vase upward before finally meeting the owner of those hands.

"Felix?"

then, he naturally wandered over to the unfinished pieces used for painting and the options were greater. more shapes and objects to choose from, and more color choices to make it his own.

these days, he was in desperate need of things that were just his.

things that didn't remind him of soobin.

his attention continued to float downward to the smaller items on the lower shelves. paperweights and small dishes.

a dog bowl.

something about the dish holds his attention. he stares at it and after a moment, he no longer sees a piece of unfinished ceramic. he sees the potential for a fresh start that he desperately needs right now.

he sees the little blonde puppy that he's seen at the dog cafe for the past few weeks and always ends up in his lap by the time he has to leave.

the image sticks in his mind.

as he's about to stand up and ask when the next class begins, he notices miyeon standing a few feet from him. lost in her own thoughts as she looks at another ceramic piece to be painted. he parts his lips to greet her, but her grip loosens on the vase before he has the chance. call it good reflexes or his inability to watch something visibly shatter the way that his future has, but he reaches out to catch it just before it can hit the ground.

nice

A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding finally escapes her as a quiet laugh. "Oh, thank God." One hand comes up to her chest. "I think my soul left my body for a second." The embarrassment settles in a moment later.

"That would've been a terrible start to a pottery class." Or whatever this was. She accepts the vase carefully when he hands it back, this time cradling it with considerably more respect than before. At the mention of caffeine, she lets out another laugh, shaking her head. "Remind me to personally thank whoever gave it to you."

Her gaze drops briefly to the rescued vase before returning to him. "I owe you one." A small smile lingers on her lips. The kind that comes a little easier when she's caught off guard.

His question earns a soft hum as she glances around the studio. "Honestly?" She pauses. "I'm still trying to figure that out."

그저 웃음만 나온다

난 이제 너를 몰라 (HANN)

Miyeon’s smile fades little by little as she listens, not interrupting him once. She simply lets him speak, lets him empty out everything he has been carrying. Her voice is quiet, gentle, because this was real. She reaches across the table, giving the back of his hand a light pat.

"First of all…" she exhales softly, "…I’m really sorry… for all of it." People leaving, no matter how it happened. Whether they chose to go, were forced to, or life simply pulled everyone onto different paths, it always left something behind. A silence that settled into places you never expected. A heaviness on your chest that stayed long after the moment passed. She knew that silence. Knew how strange it felt to walk into a place and instinctively look toward where someone used to stand, how your mind still expected a familiar laugh before remembering it wasn’t coming. It wasn’t just the person you grieved, but the version of tomorrow you had quietly built beside them. Perhaps that was why her heart ached so easily for him. Because in this industry, grief rarely came with the luxury of stopping. You smiled, you rehearsed, you stood beneath stage lights while parts of you were still learning how to live with absence.

"The public only sees the performance," she says quietly, her eyes returning to his, "they don’t see what it’s like when the cameras are gone… how loud the dorms become after everything goes quiet." A small breath leaves her. "They forget idols grieve too." Then, as if deciding they’ve stayed in the heaviness long enough, she softens the moment with a faint smile. "So… can I give you one very unsolicited senior piece of advice?" she asks gently, nudging his hand lightly before leaning back, not because the sadness is gone, but because she refuses to let it swallow everything. "When things get heavy… don’t make the mistake of thinking you have to carry all of it by yourself." Her gaze lingers, steady. "…don’t spend all your energy trying to be the strong one." A pause, her fingers loosely circling her glass as she exhales, "…you’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to be exhausted. You're allowed to feel what you need to feel in order to live with the reality of how things are right now.." She tilts her head slightly, warmth returning to her tone. "With that being said it doesn't mean carrying everything alone. You’re allowed to lean on the people standing beside you. It doesn't remove the pain of things, but helps to breathe a little easier as you work through it. That’s what we’re all here for." Then, easing them both out of the heaviness, she lifts her glass with a faint grin. "And if your members become impossible…" her eyes glint with mischief, "…be slightly more impossible. Within reason." A soft laugh escapes her. "I’d rather not have your company blaming me for corrupting their maknae."

photos: David Castenson