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“Do you regret it?” Chan asks him, the day he leaves.
“No. Never.”
Chan looks sad, like he’s just been betrayed. As if he hadn’t just asked Minho to betray his own heart, instead.
It goes like this: Minho is in love with Jisung, and he knows it from the beginning.
Well, not from the very first meeting. At first, Jisung is just a weird kid staring at him.
And oh, does he stare. Angrily, fascinated, furious. As if Minho’s mere existence offends him. As if he can’t look away.
Then, after hours of just looking, he starts talking.
“Let’s address each other casually.”, Jisung tells him the first day, when they are complete strangers still. Then he proceeds to ask Minho questions.
Where do you come from? How do you dance so well? What did you do before joining the company?
Jisung is awkward, kind of loud, and eager to know everything. It’s endearing.
Minho had been a little scared, at first. He told himself he wasn’t. But he was the last to join the group, and everything was so new to him.
He found himself relieved by Jisung’s loud laugh, his easy smile.
Jisung, who was wearing a turtleneck and skinny jeans when everyone else wore hoodies and sweatshirts. Jisung, who was scolded the whole week for being distracted, because he was only paying attention to Minho.
Later, when Minho knows him better, he understands that Jisung must have been nervous, and greatly so.
Later, Minho hears some of his lyrics, and wonders.
My trembling voice, awkward gestures. I can only speak like this, even when I pretend to be bold.
‘Close’ is blasting through his earphones, and Minho thinks that he understands, now.
It is hauntingly similar to their first meeting. Jisung, who is too anxious to order his own food, yet can’t stop talking around Minho.
I act like this because I'm afraid I won't be able to catch you ever again once today is over.
This is how it begins. In a way, it’s not Minho’s fault. In a way, it has been Jisung’s decision, all along.
Jisung writes songs, and Minho wonders. Jisung talks, and Minho stares. Jisung calls him his soulmate, and Minho smiles a small, timid smile.
They have known each other for about a year. Debuted in the same group, living in the same dorm.
“This is my dream.”, Jisung says, happily, after their first concert. And Minho knows; Jisung has worked on it for years, after all. Genius mind, crazy talent. Jisung belongs on stage.
Minho sleeps in Jisung’s bed more often than in his own. Changbin teases him for it; in front of the cameras, too, but Minho doesn’t care. Why should he?
It is strange, how fast everything falls into place. They don’t talk about important stuff; just giggles and cuddles and “I like you so much.”
Minho has never been like this with anyone. He does pride himself as a gentle, caring person; in his own way, that is. Seldomly in front of the public, too.
“You’re weird.”, Jisung tells him. Out of his mouth, it sounds like a compliment. Maybe because he is weird, too.
Another time, it’s Chan: “Your somewhere on a weird scale between cute and menacing.”
Minho just grimaces and tries to free himself out of Chan’s embrace.
“I’m going to scream.”, he tells Chan, and is finally released.
“See.”, Chan says. “That’s what I mean. You’re unhinged, but in a cute way.”
If Minho feels bad for someone, afterwards, it’s Chan. Chan, who has given his everything to build this group from scratch. Chan, who chose him, as his eight Stray Kid.
Minho had managed to ruin it all.
The first person to talk to him after he leaves is, ironically, one of their managers. They are standing in the doorway of Minho’s apartment, on a cold autumn day. There is not much to it; but one phrase sticks with Minho.
“You could have been brilliant, Minho.”, he says. “What a waste you fell in love.”
Minho slams the door to his face.
If there is one thing Minho was never sorry for, it is falling in love. Not when he had to leave the group, not when Changbin confronted him about it. Not even when Jisung rejected him.
It happened a bit differently, anyways.
They are in the recording studio, and Chan is directing. Minho and Jisung are sitting on the couch, waiting for their turn while Jeongins voice echoes through the room.
Jisung stands up, abruptly, to tell Jeongin how to sing a specific note. Chan agrees, and Jisung settles back against Minho.
He presses a kiss against Minho’s head, and Minho sighs contently.
“Can you two stop being in love.”, Seungmin snorts from behind them.
But it’s like that. Everyone knows, everyone sees, and yet, nobody actually takes it seriously until it’s too late.
Later, Jisung talks about it. “You’re so in love with me.”, he coos. “It’s embarrassing.”
Minho just blushes and throws a pillow at him.
From then on, Jisung knows. It’s impossible for him not to know.
Minho takes him on dates, to fancy places that are miles away, even though it’s their only day off in weeks. He wears his best coat, and Jisung wears his favorite earrings, the daisy ones. They watch movies in Jisung’s bed, eat together almost every day.
It’s comfortable, cozy, and so perfectly right. Minho does not have many friends; but Jisung might be his favorite one.
He’s more than a friend, too. Less than a lover, even though he feels like one.
Soulmates, Jisung says, again and again. My soulmate.
And Minho is fine with it. The in-between. Until he isn’t.
Jisung is on the floor of their living room, chatting with Felix, and Minho is on his phone. They are talking about love.
“Changbin has experience with that.”, Felix says, giggling. “But it’s always unrequited. That’s why his songs are so sad.”
“Love can be sad in a different way, too.”, Jisung says.
“How so?”
“Sometimes, you know that someone is in love with you.” He tilts his head “But you’ll need to keep your distance. So, you might pretend not to know.”
Minho feels a little sick, suddenly.
Objectively, he’s always known. There is a certain impossibility to his feelings. A certain desperation.
When his eyes find Jisung’s he can’t seem to stop looking. When they are close Minho feels like he can’t breathe.
Sometimes, they will laugh about it. Sometimes they’ll flirt, wink at each other, and pretend it’s all a game.
But Minho knows two truths: First, Jisung is totally enamored with him, has been since the beginning. Second, Jisung will always put music first.
„You’ve got to stop.” Changbin tells him, one day.
“What?”
“I see how you look at him”, Changbin says. “And he can’t give you what you want. It’ll break your heart.”
Minho’s throat feels like acid. „It’s none of your business.”
„You’re really doomed, Minho.”
“And you have nothing to do with it.”
It’s two in the morning when Minho’s world falls apart, in more ways than one.
He’s with Jisung. They’re coming back from the local convenience store, and everything is dark except for the moon and Jisung’s eyes.
Minho has never felt like this for anyone. He tells Jisung.
“What do you mean?” Jisung breathes.
Minho drops their noodles to kiss him.
It’s right there, where everything crumbles; first, Minho’s brain. Then Jisung’s body, melting against his arms. Later, his career; but he doesn't know this, yet.
Jisung pulls away.
“Minho, darling. We … we shouldn’t.”
“Okay.”, he whispers. What he means is How can I exist without kissing you?
The next day, it’s all over the news: In the picture, Minho’s face is crystal clear. The boy he’s kissing is in the dark.
“Oh my.” Chan smiles, sadly. “Why did you kiss a boy in public, you big idiot.”
“Not any boy.”, Minho says.
Chan sighs, heavily. “You know they are going to make you leave?”
“I know.” Minho says, wetly.
And then, Chan is crying, and Minho is crying, too.
He finds Jisung in his studio, furiously writing lyrics.
“It’s so unfair.”, he whispers, once his eyes find Minho. He’s shaking, and he has been crying, and Minho dies a little inside.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”, Minho tells him.
Jisung cries more.
“They didn’t recognize you.”
Jisung nods. He already knows.
“I’m glad.”, Minho whispers.
Jisung presses his eyes into his palms, as if to stop his tears from flowing. “I thought of leaving with you.”, he confesses, and oh, it hurts.
Minho’s voice is but a trembling little thing.
“But you can’t.”
Jisung lifts his eyes then, lets them roam from the files on his computer to the keyboard. Finally, they settle on Minho.
“This is my dream.”, he finally whispers.
And you are mine.
He doesn’t say it. He’s not that cruel.
(There are other things he didn’t tell Jisung, back then.
It doesn’t matter what you choose. I’m willing to wait for you.
But in the end, Minho is not cruel to himself, either. And so, he goes back to where he came from; his cats, a small garden, a handful of friends.
Maybe, someday, he’ll see Jisung again. And maybe, Jisung will be ready to love him up close.)