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“Gonna grab a smoke, you want one?”
“I’m good.”
Ryan sat up slowly from his position under Min’s arm in their bed. He weaved his legs out from under the covers and slid to the bedside, getting up in one smooth motion. Min watched as he stretched upon getting up, his stolen shirt hanging loosely to his frame.
It was a Tuesday, and there were no scheduled shows for the night. Min had nearly pleaded with Ryan to let them have at least one off day a week, and somewhere along the way it wound up consistently being on a Tuesday. Not that they didn’t get offers for shows during the week or last-minute call-ins, but after about a year of working up and down Ontario and into New York it became apparent that it was the least busy day for crowds, and more importantly, cash.
They had been staying at an extended stay hotel in south Toronto for about four months at this point, which was ideal considering their reach consistently had them driving to shows from Buffalo to Ottawa. The occasional show in other parts of Canada or the northern US was also reasonably within reach, and considering that Ryan was particularly set on getting a more permanent place to live in new york when their name was big and lucrative enough, it just made sense to bide their time here.
Min had to admit the place had been growing on him, though. And the longer they stayed there, the more ridiculous it seemed to him that they could fit all the stuff they’d accumulated into the van to drive down and through the border.
Min watched Ryan carefully as he slid the glass door open to their meager balcony and left it open a crack behind him. Fiddling with the lighter and leaning on the terrace, the wind tugged at his loose clothing. Ryan had taken up smoking during his solo career, but had mostly quit after the events of the train forced him to. Sometimes he indulged in one though, and Min couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy one every now and then.
After a moment, Min sat up properly in their bed, springs digging into his seat. They had tried to lessen the discomfort of the mattress by adding a blanket to the cover, but typically it got shoved aside by how much Ryan would move in his sleep. It wasn’t the best, but the hotel was cheap. It was better than sleeping on Ryan's childhood futon in the back of their van, both their legs hanging off the edge.
Min got up, stepping over strewn cassettes that hadn't been organized and bunches of their discarded clothes. Approaching the door, Ryan turned around and smiled.
“Couldn't stay away, huh?” Ryan asked. He pulled the door away to let Min join him.
For a minute, both of them leaned with their forearms on the balcony, looking outside. Their place was on the fourth floor of the hotel on a semi-busy side street- one locals would race down late at night. The sky was overcast and likely about to start spitting, and the wind was picking up. Min felt himself being nudged to Ryan by its force, their shoulders bumping.
“Can I...?” Min asked quietly, holding his hand out.
Ryan passed the cigarette wordlessly. He kept his focus on the city skyline.
Min thought for a minute as he took a puff, trying to find exactly what Ryan was looking for. They had done this a few times, where min could've sworn they were playing a silent game of i spy. Typically, he noticed, Ryan would be fixated on a particularly tall building downtown, one where a venue they’d never played at before was. One that was big.
They never talked about it. It was something of a wordless agreement among the both of them. When they passed the venue on late night drives back from a gig, or a walk while on a night on the town, Min always saw that sort of wistful look in his eyes. He almost looked discouraged when they would pass it. Min wasn’t sure what he would say to him, anyway. Of course, he wanted the same thing, probably as much as Ryan, but there was still a pit in his stomach that never quite went away when he thought about the crowd at a place like that.
At this point they were 20, nearing 21, and the largest venue they had ever played for was still less than 500 people. Steadily, min’s tolerance for crowds had gone up, but the thought of a show with thousands of people, looking at Ryan, looking at him, he wasn't sure if he could do it. He wasn’t sure he ever would be able to.
They talked about his stage fright before, of course they had, but Min was still cagey on it. He didn't want Ryan to worry for him, or to let him down, or ruin his dream. Their dream. They had worked so hard and been so diligent, and over time they had even accumulated fans, ones that came to repeat shows in separate cities from where they first watched them play. And it made Min feel something electric. It felt like he was being encouraged to do what he wanted. And it wasn’t only Ryan who was telling him that. Ryan’s opinion obviously mattered to him, but the attention brought him something between excitement and a system overload.
There had been one particularly loud show that they had performed in Mississauga a few months back that Min could still distinctly remember. It had gone better than either of them had expected for a crowd new to their music, and afterward in the green room packing their gear Ryan came up behind him and put him in a loose headlock, mussing up his hair and telling him how fucking proud he was of him. And how excited he was to get him home.
For the rest of the time they packed up, Min’s head was on fire. Shaking with energy and anticipation for the rest of the night, he buckled the straps on Ryan's guitar for him and slung it over his shoulder. He could see how excited Ryan got from it, fumbling with the synth as he stared.
Walking up the steps, nearly buzzed with excitement, Ryan took the envelope from the event manager and opened the back door of the bar, letting Min go first. But before he could really register what was happening, one of the audience members from nearly an hour earlier rushed him in the doorway and gave him a tight hug.
When the groupie finally pulled back, a big smile on her face, Min finally realized what had just happened. Some girl he didn't know had nearly tackled him in a hug, making him step back and bump into Ryan. There were several other people waiting behind her, looking at him and Ryan like they were fireworks.
“That show was AMAZING!” the girl who hugged Min cried. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, leaning farther into his space. Min just stood there, his entire body freezing up. She kept talking.
“Sooo, I and some of my friends were wondering if you wanted to come back to my place, for an afterparty. You know, keep the show going!”
Min turned back to face Ryan. He didn’t make eye contact with him, continuing to look at the girls. He couldn't get a read on him. Min felt his stomach churn.
“...Us?” Min asked, turning back. It came out much less confident than intended.
The groupie snorted. “Yeah, of course!” she put her hands on his chest. He shifted in place, unable to go anywhere. “You guys were incredible! And- why stop the show now? The night’s still young!”
Min laughed at that. It was hardly true. Most frequently their shows wrapped up by 1 in the morning, and even later until they actually left.
This didn’t feel right. Min wouldn’t say he was necessarily claustrophobic, but something was definitely shutting down in his brain right now that had to be similar to the fear. This wasn’t the plan. He had already started coming down from that stage presence, authentic yet shielded, and now it felt like he didn't have enough time to put it back on. He couldn't flake in front of fans of Ryan's- of his work- that wouldn't look good for them.
All of Min-Gi’s life had been full of expectations. To go to school, to get a job, to start a family. He’d already broken enough of those. He needed to do what was necessary for their current situation if they wanted to get anywhere fast. It only made sense. He could suck it up, deal with the discomfort, and maybe they’d even get back home before the sun came up. Things changed all the time, why couldn’t he? Ryan wasn't much of a planner in the first place. He probably wanted to go. Min could do this for him. He could make up for all the times he chickened out or denied them of an opportunity. It wouldn't be the end of the world. Just a little bit more time in that mask, then they could go home.
Just a bit longer, and then it would be just them. He could do it. He could.
“So, what do you think?” the girl looked at him expectantly, hands still on his shirt. Min could feel himself growing hotter in discomfort. He needed to say something. He’d have a break on the drive there, and then he’d be ok. It would be ok.
“I- well-” Min started.
“Let’s get the van loaded first ladies,” Ryan interrupted, putting a hand on Min’s shoulder. “Then we’ll get back to you, ok?”
Damn. he was always so much suaver.
Min swallowed hard as the groupie let go of him and stepped to the side, still overly excited.
“Do you need help?” she asked, her friends joining her in asking.
“No, we’re good” Min let out a strangled noise. He just needed a break. Short and sweet. He’d be ready in a minute.
He took a beeline straight to the van across the lot. He could hear Ryan trying to catch up with him. By the time that Min had gotten to the van, hands shaking so hard that it was difficult to put the keys in to unlock the back, Ryan caught up.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked in a whisper. In the low light of the streetlamps, Min could see the concern on his face.
“Nothing,” Min replied. It came out small and tinny. Not what he wanted.
Ryan put a firm hand over his own holding the keys. The trembling subdued marginally. He watched Ryan's eyes dart to their hands and back to him.
“Really? You want me to believe that?”
“It's just post-show jitters. I’ll be fine by the time we get there.” Min took his hand back towards himself, but Ryan kept his grip.
“And you expect me to believe that? No. I think we’re heading back home for the night.”
Min’s eyes widened. This couldn’t be what Ryan wanted. “No, we’ll go. It's ok.”
“It's obviously not!” Ryan put his hands up. “This isn't the kind of shaky that you were back in the green room. I can tell, dude.”
Min couldn’t think of the right way to address that, so he just stared. Waited. Ryan sighed, exasperated.
“Look, this is a band decision. A- a partner - decision. If one of us doesn't want to go, then neither of us will.”
He was losing. “I never said I didn't want to-”
“Oh my god, Min. Really?'' Ryan laughed, leaning against the side of the van and looking briefly at their shoes. “I could tell you didn't want anything to do with those girls as soon as one of them started touching you.”
Embarrassed, and almost ashamed at how easy he was to read, Min looked away. He was definitely losing this.
“I said we were going back anyway. No last-minute changes.” Ryan took the keys gingerly from Min’s hand, unlocking the back himself.
“No, we- we should go. They want us to. It’s for the best- f-for our band.”
“It’s not the best for you though. So I’m not going.” Ryan’s voice was hard. He didn’t get like this often, eyes steely even in the low light. It quickly shut Min up.
Sometimes Min wondered if he didn't change at all from the train. Ryan, he was definitely different. He stopped acting without thinking all the time. He always waited for Min, his patience unwavering. Min-Gi? He still couldn't handle a little change. He still couldn't look Ryan and the eyes and tell him what was wrong. His confidence wavered the second their eyes met over something like this. He couldn’t force it out. He couldn’t run away either.
Min pressed the heels of his palms up against his eye sockets, taking a shuddering breath. He silently cursed himself for having such turbulent feelings. Nothing good could last for him. Something like this would have to happen to balance it out.
He could hear Ryan picking up an amp and sliding it into the back. He tried to focus on that rather than the girls chattering away in the distance.
“Min,'' Ryan whispered, putting his hands on his shoulders. He set them there like he was a paper sculpture. Maybe he was. “It doesn't matter what they want from us. We wanted to go home, so, we are.”
For a moment. They stood like that. Min sniffed, trying to keep it all in. He pressed his lips into a fine line. He could feel Ryan’s eyes on him. He hoped he wasn’t disappointed.
“Get in through the back,” Ryan said. “I'll talk to them. I’ll drive us home.”
Min nodded, hands still over his eyes. Ryan maneuvered him to sit on the edge of the van’s interior, soft and slow. He didn't dare uncover them until Ryan had patted him on the shoulder, kissing his hair, the sound of his boots slinking away through gravel.
Min slowly pulled himself fully into the back of the van, closing the doors behind him. He took off Ryan's guitar case and set it gingerly next to his synth, their cases brushing. Then he climbed to the front, curling himself into a ball on the floor behind the passenger seat.
Then he was gone.
Later that night, Ryan had quite nearly shoved him under the covers as he went back to bring the rest of their equipment back up to the room. Min tried protesting, but Ryan had that similar hard look on his face that he didn’t feel like arguing any further with that night. With that, Min shimmied his way to Ryan's side of the bed, feeling the indentation in the mattress, the springs digging into his sides. He tugged at their meager blankets, trying to pull them tighter around himself. Aside from his shoes, he was still wearing all that he had from the show. He tried not to think of the glitter that would be impossible to get out of the sheets later. He stared out into the hall, as Ryan had left their hotel door open. The sliver of yellow light was the only thing illuminating the room they shared. If Min had been even a drop less tired he would've gotten up to close it. He didn't quite feel sure enough in their living situation that no one would come peeking in.
It had felt like forever, but Ryan returned, carrying way too much for his thin frame in one go back to the room. Min felt no itch to bicker with him this time about how he should be taking care of his back. He just closed his eyes.
He heard the door shut, and some shuffling and huffing, the faucet turning on and off. As weird as it may sound, it sounded like Ryan. He had a certain way of carrying himself around a room that he could feel. It was tangible. Perhaps that's what happens when you spend your whole (well, most) of your life with someone. You know what their footsteps are. You know how they set things on the table, and how they sit down on your bed.
Min opened his eyes again, watching Ryan take off his glasses and set them on the bedside table, next to Min’s medication. He shifted back, carrying his legs in one easy swoop onto the bed, and slid under the covers next to him.
They stared at each other for a moment, lying on their sides, arms near their chests in front of them. Ryan hadn't quite changed out of his stage outfit either. It couldn't have been comfortable.
Ryan was very clearly thinking. Min let him speak first.
“... How are you feeling.”
“Ok.” was all Min could muster.
Ryan broke eye contact, looking at their hands on the mattress. He weaved his fingers through Min’s with his left.
“You can tell me if you aren't.”
“I know.”
Ryan didn't seem to know how to take that. Min wanted to slap himself for being so… him.
He let Ryan play with their hands for a few minutes, watching as he ran a thumb over Min’s nail polish. He’d painted them the other day, with Ryan's help. It had already started to chip.
God, Ryan was so much. He was too good for him. He was so much more patient with him than min was with himself. He’d grown so much. He wasn’t the same person who threw his keys through the door. If Min thought about it too much, it made him nauseous. As much as he didn't like thinking about it, and knew it wasn’t true, he couldn't help but think Ryan could use a better him. A version of him that could just do things. One that didn't freeze up and ruin shit.
“Ryan,” Min started.
Ryan stopped playing with their hands, looking up. He was so patient.
“I’m…” he tried again. Shit. He had no idea what to say.
“I want to get better at this. For you.” he kept his eyes on their hands. He didn't have it in him to say it to his face. This would do.
“Min, that girl was really clinging to you. She probably wasn’t all there. I get why you shut down. It was a lot. You- we- were tired.”
“that’s - that's not what I mean- Not really.” Min forced himself to look back up. Ryan had shuffled closer towards him, sharing a pillow.
“I can’t just shut down like that on you. I need to stop doing that.” he laughed dryly. “I need to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix, Min. It's you. It's ok that it's you.”
“So you think there’s nothing wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you.'' Ryan was adamant. It took Min aback. “Min, we- both of us- we have… stuff. But they aren't something to get rid of . I’m the way I am, and so are you. What we need to do is… is just. Find out how to work around it. To accept it, and move on. There’s nothing to fix.”
“...I can’t just be like this forever, though.”
“Like what?'' Ryan knew exactly what the answer to that question was. Nearly exasperated, he pushed on. “Look, I’m. We’ve both been through a lot. Both together and separately. We’re not the same people we were as kids. Just ‘cause stuff changes over time doesn't mean I don't love you. Doesn't mean you’re getting worse or better, or that I am either. It’s just... us.
“I want to be with you no matter what. I’m not leaving you again.”
Min’s voice died in his throat as he tried to reply. He felt his eyes water. God, not again, he thought.
“It's so easy for you to just say things,” Min laughed, his throat closing up. Ryan pulled him in close as the tears spilled over.
For a while, they just stayed like that. Min hated the noises he was making. Ryan just combed his fingers through his hair, rubbing circles on his back with his other hand. He was so good to him. So gentle.
“I love you,” he whispered into Ryan's shirt, like it was a secret.
“I love you too.”
Later, back on the balcony, Min took another drag from Ryan's cigarette. If Min were to guess, he would assume that they both had slept in far past noon by the activity on the street. Their sleep schedule had been abysmal as soon as they started getting consistent shows. He just knew to live with that now.
“What’s the plan for today?” Ryan asked, taking the cigarette back from him. He looked up at Min with shining eyes.
Min just shrugged. Last night’s show hadn't been that late, but the manager had kept them waiting forever for the envelope. It had been lower than usual, and Ryan had been all up in arms about it before they went to bed. He was kind of surprised that wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth when they woke up.
“Well, we don't have anything expected of us today, so. What do you want to do?”
Ryan thought, tapping the ashes on the banister idly. “I dunno, I just wanna be with you, I guess.”
“You guess?”
Ryan snorted. “Stop twisting my words.” he took the last drag and snuffed it.
Against his better judgment, considering where they were, Min reached out and smoothed the hair behind his head, at the base of his neck. Ryan’s demeanor switched like a light. They drew nearer to each other.
“I kinda like teasing you, though.” Min kissed him.
After a moment, Min pulled away, nose wrinkling slightly. Ryan’s eyes fluttered open. “Damn. we need to brush our teeth.”
Whatever trance Ryan was in before broke immediately. He laughed, doubling over the balcony, and Min gripped him tightly in surprise. He tried to think of it as just a normal worry.
“God, Min.” Ryan wheezed. “You know how much I love you?”
Min wasn't expecting that. “H-how much?” he joked back, words jumbled in his throat.
Ryan straightened, turning back to face him, recovering. His smile was the whole world. He didn't say anything. He just hugged him, tight and fierce. That’s all he needed to say.