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Hyojin has started painting his nails. They are a mismatch of black and dark blue. When he pushes his red hair out of his face the colors contrast in a way that just works for him. His roots are beginning to show and Seungjun can just barely see that black hair that he'd gotten so used to during their days in school together. Hyojin's been so adamant about dying his hair since graduating that Seungjun can almost forget he's not a natural redhead. He still wears those oversized shirts that make him look smaller than he already is. His smile is still the same shape its always been since they were kids, but there's something different about it now. The visual is all the same but the meaning has changed.
The five of them all moved away from their hometown five years ago. All except Hyojin. The urban life has reshaped them all in many ways. It's plain to see in the way Changyoon dresses and the way Jaeyoung talks. With Minkyun its the mentality, he's more world-weary. His playfulness is still present but with an edge to it. He used to be a cat that ran and hid when threatened, but now he bites and claws.
Hyojin never left, and in many ways he never changed. He still works at the roller rink, he's still a doting son, he's still unflinchingly confident, he still lights up when Seungjun praises him. Yet his nails contradict Seungjun's assumptions. It would be one thing if it was Changyoon, and Seungjun considers that it may be his influence.
Hyojin's always had small hands, slender fingers with flattened tips. Seungjun still remembers when they'd all compared hand sizes towards the end of middle school. Seungjun had been delighted to learn his hands were the biggest, even though Minkyun had whined that his were larger. They'd voted and Seungjun won fair and square. Minkyun had the clear height advantage after all, he could afford to lose in hands. Seungjun remembers most clearly aligning his palm and fingers with Hyojin's and being delighted to find that he could hide Hyojin's hand completely with his own. Usually being the smallest never seemed to bother Hyojin much. He always acted larger than he was, yet with their hands touching Seungjun still swears he had seen him flinch.
The physical distance between them also changed their dynamics. While he and Hyojin had been self-proclaimed best friends, in university Hyojin found himself spending increasingly more time with Jaeyoung instead. They'd both moved to Seoul and the proximity simply made sense. In the year where Minkyun was still finishing high school after the rest of them had graduated, Seungjun distinctly remembers him and Hyojin seeming far closer than they had before. As years passed and Minkyun left for the city too, Hyojin had picked up a habit of ghosting. He'd leave their group chat unread for months. He'd leave Seungjun's direct messages unread for even longer. Months would pass and suddenly he'd become active again, like nothing happened. The first time they'd all questioned him. When he didn't acknowledge it, they quickly learned to stop asking.
Hyojin taps his dark nails on the reception desk to snap Seungjun back to attention. Somehow everything he does is musical. "I'm off in twenty minutes, wait outside? Unless you want to skate," he quips, propping up his chin with his hand. His skin looks even paler next to the shades of his nails. Seungjun wonders if his hands have grown since middle school, but at a glance he doubts it.
--
The collapsed train tunnel is mostly indistinguishable rubble at this point. Just a small section of the wall is left standing upright and in one piece. Graffiti is sprawled across it, abstract and colorful. It was Changyoon and Jaeyoung's doing during their senior year. Minkyun had helped, but Seungjun and Hyojin had simply watched. Back then Seungjun still cared about reputation far too much. Although his friends were minor delinquents Seungjun would play the straight man to their antics. He'd justify his presence by just watching rather than partaking. Now, he wonders what experiences he's missed by only observing.
"Didn't think any of it would still be standing," Seungjun thinks aloud. Hyojin hums in agreement, absently tracing his fingertips along lines of spray paint. Sitting on the piled up bricks is reliving memories long passed, when they used to stay out here for hours until it got too dark to see. Seungjun had known all the lyrics to that one Huh Gak song, Hyojin was obsessed with it and Seungjun couldn't even begin to count how many times he'd heard it. He had heard it in passing not long ago and felt like there was something off and unfamiliar. Now, he realizes that it sounded incorrect because it wasn’t overlaid with Hyojin’s voice.
Not long before leaving for Seoul Seungjun had found himself wandering out to the tracks by himself. Hyojin had already been there, seated on the lap of some dude Seungjun can't remember in particular. It had made him so angry that Hyojin had brought that guy out there to make out with him. He had touched him in front of the art Changyoon and Jaeyoung spent months devising. He had tangled his fingers so delicately into his hair on the same log that he'd spend every afternoon with Seungjun on. They had talked about their dreams there, their favorite singers, their fears, their shared hatred of Minkyun's new haircut. Seungjun has still never asked, but he wonders if that place meant as much to Hyojin as it had to Seungjun.
"I don't know," Hyojin hums, swinging his legs over a pile of brick, "I don't know the metric. I could say this place is important to me but I have no idea how important it is to you, and I don't think you could ever explain it to me in a way that I'd understand. Too much perspective." Seungjun has always been jealous of Hyojin's usage of words. It's not as if Seungjun is a bad speaker, but he has to go over his words in his head. Everything comes out sounding rehearsed, less genuine than other people. Hyojin is genuine to a fault, sometimes his emotions end up too raw or he comes off too blunt. Hyojin places his hands onto the stone carefully, where he is reckless with his words he's cautious with his actions. Always gentle, always keeping his distance until the right moment. A small touch on the small of Seungjun's back, so light he barely feels it, paired with words so sharp Seungjun is still picking them apart weeks later in his head.
--
"Jesus Hyojin, is there any guy in town you haven't fucked?" Minkyun asks entirely too loud. Changyoon slaps his arm as several other shoppers shoot Minkyun dirty looks. Normally Seungjun would be scandalized, but he admits that Hyojin's reputation is no secret. Half the town surely calls him names behind closed doors. Plenty of them do it to his face too. Some of them only say it to Seungjun, leaning in close and trying to pry the words out of his mouth. They confide in Seungjun their thoughts in the hopes that he will mirror them. If even his best friend thinks Hyojin is a slut, surely they don't have to feel bad for thinking it themselves.
Seungjun would never give them the satisfaction of that. He heard their whispers and speculations. If Seungjun spends so much time around the gay kid, maybe he's gay too. Older folks in town would tsk, such a shame that such a good kid like Seungjun was spending time with all those delinquents and queers, such bad influences. He still graduated near the top of his class despite spending all that time with undesirables. Hyojin did too, but no one really seemed to care.
"Which one?" Jaeyoung asks, dangling two bags of marshmallows in front of Seungjun's face. As much shit as he had gotten for spending time with Hyojin, he'd gotten almost as much for Jaeyoung. People would call him scary and dangerous. Seungjun's never been sure where that idea came from other than looks alone. Jaeyoung still apologizes for that time he accidentally dropped a desk on Seungjun's foot when they were fourteen. Seungjun decides on the bag with the cuter mascot.
"Hyojin, which sausages should we get? You'd know best," Minkyun's unmistakable giggle rises from the refrigerated section. Seungjun knows to look to Changyoon for a reaction, and sure enough he's glaring at Minkyun with his most disapproving face. Hyojin strides to the sausages with confidence, picks a package off the wall and presses it into Minkyun's hands.
"These are perfect, big but not too big. Any thicker would just be overkill and extra effort, any longer and it just becomes a chore." Hyojin smirks as he turns away to continue picking out the cheapest chocolate. Minkyun's laughter bubbles out of him uncontrollably and Changyoon's face has gotten impossibly darker. He can’t decide if he disapproves of Hyojin or Minkyun more, so his eyes dart between the two comically.
--
"Didn't you want to be a singer?" Seungjun asks. Stars twinkle over his head and soft sand holds him in a gentle embrace. He can't see Hyojin lying on their backs like this, but his presence is almost overwhelming despite the comfortable distance between them.
"Didn't you?" Hyojin counters easily, quiet words like a slap to the face. It's not that Hyojin never went to the city. There was one summer they all went any chance they got. They attended audition after audition, received no results again and again. Eventually they stopped going, but they never verbalized defeat. In their fantasies of the future becoming trainees was still part of the plan. Slowly but surely, they stopped talking about it. There was still an unwritten rule that it wasn't out of the cards.
After that summer Hyojin's tongue got sharper, and he started putting up walls. Seungjun was also putting up walls in his head, where he and Hyojin would split their rent. It was decided that Hyojin and Seungjun would move in together, because of course they would. Changyoon insisted on living on his own, so Jaeyoung and Minkyun would rent a place together despite their bickering. In Seungjun's walls they'd order food together because neither of them could cook. Hyojin would sing as he moved about the apartment and Seungjun would covet his pretty voice. Hyojin could sing there all he wanted, without the scrutiny of his father. In reality, it was Changyoon and Minkyun who'd ended up moving in together.
"I gave that up a long time ago," Seungjun rebuffs. It's not a complete lie, it's a matter of perspective. He'd stopped auditioning when he turned twenty. He'd switched his major to business management. Hyojin was in no position to judge, he'd never even tried.
"Fuck you, Seungjun," Hyojin spat, sitting up. Like this he looms over Seungjun, impossibly tall against reality's measurements. "You have no idea how long I tried, how many hours I spent singing until my voice was hoarse." Hyojin digs his fingers into the sand and they sink beneath the granules. He'll wear out the polish, Seungjun thinks absently.
"Then tell me," Seungjun asks but the words slip out sounding more like a threat than a request. Hyojin looks down at him and he meets his eyes, really meets them, not any of the dodgy contact they've grown accustomed to for years.
"You guys good?" Jaeyoung asks. He and Minkyun have an armful of driftwood between them. Changyoon had said he would help them carry it but all he has in his hands is lighter fluid and a few sticks. Hyojin dismisses them easily, assists them in creating a crackling sandpit fire. He dusts his hands off on his pants and a bit of sand is sprinkled onto Seungjun's face.
--
Hyojin looks exactly like his mother, and almost nothing like his father. Hyemin has the same eyes, nose, and mouth. She's similarly small but much more wiry than Hyojin. They have the same smile, but Hyemin has dimples on her cheeks and signs of age starting to mark her face. Since they were all still kids she was like an extra mom for all of them. She loved children so easily and as she didn't work she could devote much of her time and effort to Hyojin and his friends. The very first time they had ever played with Changyoon he'd gotten mud on his pants and started to cry. She'd consoled him and given him a pair of Hyojin's pants to wear while she cleaned his. When Minkyun moved to their town in middle school and started hanging around them it seemed like Hyemin knew he'd become one of their closest friends before even they did.
It seemed that every time Seungjun returned home she looked thinner. She hugged all of them and when it was Seungjun's turn he couldn't help but notice how bony her arm was. When they were kids Seungjun remembers being jealous that Hyojin had a stay at home mom. She could spend so much more time with Hyojin, she would even cook enough dinner for Seungjun when his own mother was working late. Now Seungjun knows that her staying home was less of a choice and more of a necessity. She'd been frail for years but seeing her now, her illness is so evident. There's a fatigue so notable on her face that it makes Seungjun uneasy.
"Minkyun, did you grow even more? Aren't you supposed to stop growing as a teenager?" She always asks Minkyun the same question when they see each other. It's a joke of course, Minkyun hasn't grown any taller in years. He used to be the shortest of all of them, the last to get his growth spurt. One winter he shot up quick, he'd visited family in Anyang and came back with pants that couldn't cover his ankles.
Hyemin's cooking is almost as nostalgic for Seungjun as his own mother's. When they leave she gives him a tupperware full of leftovers. Jaeyoung grabs his arm and leads him to the other side of the park while the others fawn over a puppy, his touch insistent.
"Hyemin looks really sick, don't you think?" He says quietly, glancing over to make sure they aren't being paid attention to. She does, it's undeniable. They'd all known she was ill for years, known that it would only ever get worse. Seungjun vividly remembers one night when Hyojin had slept over at his house. Hyojin had cried when talking about how his mother was sick, how scared he was, how Seungjun was the only one outside their family who knew. Hyojin wasn't the type to cry much, but it wasn't as if Seungjun had never seen him cry before. They'd been friends since elementary school, the age where tears come freely and with little meaning. That night was the only time he'd seen Hyojin really cry. The little details like the way his voice wavered and his shoulders trembled were imprinted deep in Seungjun's mind. Hyojin took gasping breaths between the words spilling out of his mouth, his hands gripped his knees tight and he held himself so compact he'd looked so much smaller than he ever had before.
"How much longer, do you think?" Seungjun asks, afraid to use direct terms. They'd never used direct terms. Jaeyoung takes a deep breath and looks thoughtful. They both watch Hyojin crouch down to pet the miniature poodle. There's a tightness in his shoulders, imperceivable to many but clear as day to the people who'd spent more than half their lives by his side.
"Not much longer, maybe a year," Jaeyoung says, barely above a whisper. Seungjun feels a twitch in his hands, wants to form a fist, hit Jaeyoung, as if him saying it aloud was making it come true. It's not Jaeyoung's fault of course, but Seungjun needs something to blame. Seungjun's father had died before he had a chance to remember him. It was a car accident, a drunk driver. Seungjun could blame alcohol, cars, the man himself. With Hyemin there wasn't anyone to blame. Seungjun doesn't know how to process grief without someone being at fault.
--
Today the bar is bathed in purple and pink light, crinkled sheets of gel tapped haphazardly in front of the bulbs. The last time he was here was with Changyoon when they'd stopped in town on a roadtrip to Busan. The two of them had ended up getting too drunk to keep driving and sleeping at Changyoon's parents house.
"Here," Changyoon pours him a shot of soju. Normally only he and Changyoon were partial to day drinking but getting all of them together was a special occasion. Seungjun downs it quickly, he's never liked Soju enough to sip it. He's not planning on drinking much today. The vulnerability of being drunk is too much. It's a frightening thought. There isn't anyone he trusts more than the four of them, yet he can't relax. He worries what he might say, the bonds between them feel frayed.
Hyojin seems to be feeling similar, only taking a few shots while the others drink freely. He's seemed even more distant since they all visited his mom. His blunt nail taps absent-mindedly against the rim of his cup. Minkyun and Jaeyoung are squabbling over something but Seungjun's lost track of the conversation. He barely even notices Changyoon trying to get his attention. He nods to the door that leads out to a little seating area, gets up before Seungjun even agrees to follow him.
Outside Changyoon digs in his pockets before procuring a mostly full carton of cigarettes. He lights it hastily, taking a few steps away to keep the smoke out of Seungjun's direction.
"When did you start smoking?" Seungjun asks. Changyoon raises an eyebrow in confusion.
"In university, barely do it now though," he flicks ash from the cigarette and grinds it into the pavement. "You really didn't know I smoked?"
Seungjun didn't know. He's spent most of his life with these people, yet there are still little surprises. Seungjun's not sure why he feels betrayed, it's just cigarettes. He doesn't live with Changyoon, doesn't see him as much as Jaeyoung or Minkyun, it's not that surprising that he didn't know.
Changyoon eyes him up and down. "Mind telling me why you've been drooling over Hyojin for the last twenty-four hours?" He's scrutinizing Seungjun's face, so Seungjun steels himself. He keeps his face as flat as he can. Of course Changyoon noticed, he wouldn't be surprised if they'd all noticed by now.
"You've never drooled over Hyojin? Come on," Seungjun decides on a calculated smirk. Changyoon seems unimpressed. He's squinting at Seungjun like he's already decided the truth. It's just a matter of Changyoon forcing it out of him.
"He's not really my type, no," Changyoon takes a long drag of his cigarette. He coughs a bit on the exhale. "I thought we decided we weren't allowed to date each other."
"You're one to talk," Seungjun scoffs, stepping onto some of the loose ash fallen to the ground. Changyoon quickly exhales from his nose and rolls his eyes.
"I'm not dating Minkyun, how many times do I have to say it?" Changyoon has said it many times. When they'd all noticed the two of them messing around together they were adamant that it was purely physical. They weren't in love, not breaking any pacts. Seungjun hesitates to assume their relationship is the same now. You don't move in with your fuckbuddy for four years and slowly domesticate yourselves together. You don't adopt three cats with your fuckbuddy, don't kiss them on the lips in front of all of your friends like it means something.
"Just tell him if you want to fuck," Changyoon shifts his weight back and forth, "he's not gonna say no." Of course he won't. 'No' isn't a part of Hyojin's love language. Seungjun has a lot of problems with Hyojin's inability to say no. He wants to deny Changyoon, tell him he doesn't want Hyojin, would never break their pact, that Changyoon's making it all up in his head. He's not a liar though, if he starts lying to Changyoon of all people he'll never forgive himself.
--
Minkyun is practically screeching into the mic as Changyoon tries desperately to pull it away from him. Minkyun's grip is too strong, Changyoon doesn't have a chance. Seungjun is amazed at Jaeyoung's ability to maintain his sleep, head down on the table. Seungjun admits that they've all gotten desensitized to Minkyun's volume years ago, but he acknowledges that they'll have overstayed their welcome very soon if someone doesn't pry Minkyun away from the karaoke machine before he can launch into his next set of power ballads. He's about to get up and do it himself when Hyojin slides into the booth next to him.
"Hey, sorry I snapped at you last night," Hyojin says. He sits close enough to press their sides together, and it's too close, far too close, Seungjun could easily wrap an arm around him, can practically feel the soft texture of his hair.
"It's okay. I shouldn't have brought it up," Seungjun says much too quick. He swallows around the lump in his throat and shifts as much as he can towards Jaeyoung without waking him. These booths really aren't meant for three. Hyojin's studying him, but without any of the scrutiny of Changyoon. Hyojin looks at him like he's engrossed in a movie.
"Come back to Seoul with me tomorrow," Seungjun says. He's as surprised by his own words as Hyojin looks. His eyes widen, and Seungjun prepares himself for Hyojin to snap at him again, quickly undo the apology he'd just given. Instead, the corners of Hyojin's mouth quirk up. Hyojin looks so fond, he can't remember the last time Hyojin looked at him like that.
"You're cute, Seungjun," Hyojin practically purrs. He reaches up and pats Seungjun on the head before getting up and shepherding Minkyun off the little stage. Hyojin is stunning, the stripes on his shirt start to make Seungjun dizzy by the time he finally pulls his gaze away.
--
"You can call me names if you want," Hyojin tells him. His thighs frame Seungjun's own, face so close to Seungjun's he can feel his breath fan across his lips. This is a first, in the lifetime they've known each other Seungjun has never had Hyojin on his lap like this.
"Do you want me to?" Seungjun asks. He doesn't want to call Hyojin names. He doesn't want anyone else to call Hyojin names either.
"I don't mind it, might make you feel better." Hyojin leans in impossibly closer without kissing him. He's riling Seungjun up, trying to make him mad. "I yelled at you last night. I ghost you all the time. I missed most of your twentieth birthday because I was blowing some stranger in the bathroom." Hyojin's personal slights drip off his tongue so easily. They're the sort of things Seungjun forces himself not to think about, yet Hyojin drags all of the baggage out into the open so easily. "Call me a slut, or a bad friend, or anything you want."
Seungjun doesn't, he could never. Instead he places his hand on the back of Hyojin's head to pull him ever so slightly closer. Hyojin's lips are a bit chapped, and Seungjun can feel how the ends of his hair are a bit fried from bleaching. Hyojin kisses him like he's got all the time in the world.
Seungjun never thought he'd kiss Hyojin, and especially didn't think he'd make out with him in the back of Jaeyoung's car. He'd have to make it up to Jaeyoung some time, maybe offer him his portion of Hyemin's home cooking.
"Do you still sing, Seungjun?" Hyojin asks him. Seungjun blinks, trying to clear his brain of haze and process the question.
"Not really," Seungjun settles on. He sings in the shower sometimes, will hum to himself around the house. He doesn't sing like before though, back when it felt like singing was all he had.
"You should. Minkyun has me record guide vocals for him sometimes, next time he asks I'll tell him to ask you instead," Hyojin tells him. He swipes his tongue across his lips, eyes hungry. Hyojin is ravenous but it's for more than just Seungjun's lips. He wants his soul, wants Seungjun to lay bare his decade old insecurities and pain. "You could do vocals for Jaeyoung, bet you'd sound good on his stuff. Such a pretty voice."
Hyojin is making his head fuzzy. Hyojin is the one who sings well, the only one of them who ever had a shot of making it, realistically. Hyojin was the one who was offered a trainee contract and turned it down. Too scared of leaving his mom, too devoted to his family to pursue his own dreams. Hyojin's making him sick, too sweet, too self sacrificing.
"I'd rather just listen to you instead," Seungjun mumbles. He pulls Hyojin back to him a bit more forcefully this time. He can feel Hyojin grinning against him, satisfied that he's managed to work Seungjun up. When it comes to Seungjun, Hyojin always gets what he wants.
--
The car lurches as Jaeyoung throws the door to the backseat open. It jostles Seungjun awake and his whole body starts to ache. He's too aware of the seat belt buckle jabbing into his side, Hyojin's weight on top of him, the dampness near the collar of his shirt where Hyojin has apparently drooled on him in his sleep.
"What the fuck are you two doing," Jaeyoung asks, his voice still groggy and deep with sleep. He's squinting at them and his hair is jutting in mismatched directions. Seungjun can't imagine he looks much better.
"Sleeping, what does it look like?" Seungjun mutters, doing his best to untangle himself from Hyojin who blinks slowly. Hyojin is offering no help in getting himself off of Seungjun until he slaps his arm. Seungjun's body is all tension, he’s worse off than he was before he fell asleep.
"Get out. I'm not a limousine, and I'm not going straight to Seoul anyway. Unless you want to visit my grandma you've never met, this is where we part ways." Jaeyoung leaves to pop open his trunk. Seungjun already bought his return ticket anyway.
"You better not have fucked back here. I made Minkyun clean the whole car for me, vacuumed and everything. Same rules apply," Jaeyoung's trunk closing jerks the whole vehicle. Seungjun’s face scrunches involuntarily at the revelation that he'd made out with Hyojin and passed out with him on the same seats Minkyun had allegedly fucked someone on.
"We didn't do anything, I promise," Hyojin climbs out of the car and Seungjun finally has enough space to properly straighten his spine. When he extricates himself from the vehicle Jaeyoung eyes him up and down. He notices him eyeing his neck and doesn't even have to see for himself to assume that Hyojin must have left a hickey there at some point.
"Uh-huh," Jaeyoung closes the door to the backseat and heads to the front. "See you guys later, this was fun." He says, voice monotonous. Seungjun knows he isn't being sarcastic, he's just incapable of emoting in the mornings. He feels an inexplicable urge to stop Jaeyoung, ask him if he's been working on anything lately. He decides to wait, not give Hyojin the satisfaction of seeing Seungjun ask to sing again. Jaeyoung gives him a casual wave as he pulls out of Changyoon's family's driveway.
--
Seungjun's phone buzzes with the reminder that his bus to Seoul leaves in an hour. Hyojin plunges his straw into his smoothie. The polish on his ring finger has chipped.
"Why'd you start painting your nails?" Seungjun asks him, sipping from his own drink. It's peach themed, and he's already starting to regret it. It’s isn’t bad, but the açai drink had looked appealing too. Hyojin hums as he drinks his own strawberry smoothie.
"Just thought it'd look cool," Hyojin shrugs. It does, Seungjun concedes. For years Seungjun had lamented that Hyojin seemed resistant to change, but maybe Seungjun was looking for change in the wrong places.
"My bus leaves in an hour," Seungjun tells him. The streets aren't empty, but they've never been crowded even during summer vacations. Hyojin is a big fish in a small pond here, talented, handsome, smart, charismatic. He could have been something if he'd tried, maybe still could. Seungjun finds himself reaching for Hyojin's hand and Hyojin lets him take it. Somewhere along the line he'd started avoiding holding hands, afraid of what it might mean. The way Hyojin's hand fits in his is awkward, unpracticed.
"What do you want?" Hyojin asks him. He's watching some kids play, they look roughly six or seven. The question is disorienting and needs context. When he was in high school Seungjun knew what he wanted. He wanted to be a singer, he wanted good grades, he wanted people to like him. Leaving their hometown had changed all that. Seungjun isn't sure if he was a big fish here or not, but in Seoul he's miniscule, a plankton waiting to be swallowed up whole by a whale. He had spent a long time drifting in the current. He got a degree he didn't want and an internship that treated him like trash.
He's not sure what he wants, isn't sure he's at a point where he can decide that for himself. He likes the way his fingers fit together with Hyojin's. He likes Hyojin's pretty painted nails.
"I want to hold hands with you," He settles on. The look Hyojin shoots him is incredulous.
"We're literally already holding hands," Hyojin giggles, tilting his head ever so slightly in disbelief. Seungjun is surprised at himself almost as much as Hyojin is. He's never been sappy or romantic, he doesn't know what he's doing and it shows.
"I want to hold hands all the time, I guess," Seungjun's heart is beating much faster than it should. This is Hyojin, there's nothing he can't tell him. They're supposed to be best friends. They made bracelets that said as much years ago. Hyojin has gotten quieter than he should.
One of the kids in the park stumbles and falls, he shouts out in pain in a high pitched and whiny voice. Two of his friends start laughing, another one helps him stand up. If he could just get Hyojin to Seoul maybe they could all be like that again. If they were all in such close proximity there'd be no excuses. He could feature on Jaeyoung's music, they could all stay up too late crammed together in Seungjun's tiny apartment drinking soju. He and Changyoon could convince them all to pile into the cheapest rented vehicle on their next road trip. He could visit Minkyun at the studio he works at and listen to him describe all the buttons and gauges with more passion than Seungjun could ever imagine. Seungjun does know what he wants. He wants Hyojin on his sofa, in his bed, against his countertops, singing songs quietly to himself that to Seungjun are better than any symphony.
"I can't leave my mom," Hyojin tells him, voice so quiet Seungjun almost misses it. "I want to be here when she dies."
"And when she does, what then?" Seungjun is startled by the words, they come so easy, unrehearsed. "When Hyemin's gone will you even have anything else left? How many trips back home are there before we all stop coming? She doesn't want you to suffer for her." Seungjun holds his tongue. Hyojin holds his hand tight, almost enough to hurt. Hyojin has finally gotten what he wanted. Seungjun is scolding him, trying desperately to teach him a lesson, make him come home with him, convince him of anything at all. For the first time in years it feels like Hyojin is actually listening.
A child runs past them and over to his friends. He has a bandaid decorated with some cartoon character. The children all work together to roll up the pant leg of the child who fell and gently apply the bandaid. They placate his tears.
"It doesn’t matter where you are when she dies, it will always be too soon. It's going to hurt whether you watch it happen or hear about it," Seungjun wonders if he's in the wrong. He didn't get a choice to be by his father's side at his death. He didn't even have a chance to know him.
"Everytime you guys visit she always tells me to move out," Hyojin's voice is tight. He's choosing his words carefully. They're both betraying their nature. "She's been telling me to leave for years, everyone has," there's a tremble in his voice not unlike when he'd first told Seungjun his mother was sick. "I waited too long, I don't know what I want anymore."
"I don't know what I want either," Seungjun confesses. His drink has gone untouched for too long, the ice surely melting. His bus will be here soon. It's all too rushed, his words are coming out too sloppy. "I know I want you, Hyojin, we can figure out the rest. It's not too late, I promise." Seungjun is speaking too quickly, his heart beating too fast. He can see the tall silhouette of a bus approaching in the distance.
"You promise?" Hyojin sounds impossibly small. Usually Hyojin seems so big you'd never notice he was the shortest, yet now he seems as small as he did the first day they'd met. You become such fast friends at eight. They had linked their pinkies together and promised to be friends forever on day one. Seungjun does his best to link their pinkies together again like they used to while still holding hands.
"I haven't broken any promises yet, right?" Seungjun asks him. He tries to make eye contact but Hyojin is still fixated on those children. They're back to playing now, tears and hardship quickly forgotten.
--
The votes were split on black or red. Seungjun had remained impartial, but he's nonetheless satisfied with the results. Matte nailpolish adorned each nail, haphazard switching between the two colors. When he runs his fingers through Hyojin's hair half of them match and half of them don't. Hyojin's roots have grown out once again, comfortable black warring against the dazzling red. He's on the phone with Hyemin, laughter filling Seungjun's living room with color.
Seungjun picks at the leftovers Changyoon and Minkyun left yesterday. He drops his chopstick and finds it as well as Jaeyoung's car keys he seems to lose in everyone's apartment but his own. He’s releasing a new song tomorrow, with Seungjun’s voice in the bridge. Minkyun’s supposed to come over soon and help Hyojin rehearse for an interview at his friend’s label.
Seungjun hums in approval at the taste of his next bite. Hyojin’s hands finds Seungjun's own and he laces their fingers together. It's still a little messy, they don't fit together seamlessly yet. Seungjun still doesn't know what he wants, and neither does Hyojin, but they're figuring it out. With Hyojin's pretty vibrato to come home to, Seungjun thinks it might be alright if he never gets there. Changyoon, Jaeyoung, Minkyun, and Hyojin are enough.