Chapter Text
Minho lets out a long sigh, passing the cigarette to the boy to the left of him. The music plays loudly in one of his ears, a song he’s heard a thousand times before.
It was his turn to pick the music, and all things considered, Jisung seems to be enjoying it. That was expected, though, since they had pretty much the same taste in music anyways. It’s one of the only reasons they hang out.
He watches Jisung the last drag of the cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow, steady exhale. The smoke frames his face before dissipating into the sky. With a practiced flick, ashes scatter onto the ground. He keeps the cigarette between his fingers for a moment, then brings it down to the pavement, extinguishing the glowing ember and crushing the rest of the butt.
“Littering,” Minho remarks.
Jisung glances at the two cigarette butts near Minho and shrugs, taking a sip of his non-alcoholic beer.
“The music’s good tonight,” Jisung says after another break of silence. The silence is typical for them. In fact, it’s a part of why they hang out in the first place.
“Is it ever bad?”
“It was, that time you tried to introduce me to metal.”
Minho lets out a half-hearted chuckle and goes back to sipping from his can.
He and Jisung aren’t friends. They aren’t much of anything, really, but Minho also considers Jisung to be the person in his life who understands him the best. He doesn’t know Jisung’s birthday, and he doesn’t know where he lives, and he doesn’t know what his hobbies are, but he does know the brand of cigarettes he likes, and he does know what kind of music he listens to, and that’s all he really needs to know.
They don’t talk, really. They meet up in secluded areas, usually after dark, and they smoke and listen to music. This wasn’t an agreed upon arrangement, but after they found each other at a party a few months back, both sitting alone drinking non-alcoholic beers, they’d formed a sort of bond.
It’s more of a solidarity in being alone than anything. They’re alone together.
“You want another?” Jisung asks, taking another cigarette from the pack.
“Sure.”
Minho watches as he puts the cigarette between his lips, covering the end of it from the breeze as he lights it, taking a long drag and letting it out through his mouth.
After a few drags, Jisung hands it over for Minho to do the same. Their fingers brush as he passes it over, a fleeting touch that sent tingles up Minho’s arm.
They let themselves get lost in the music, it’s a song Minho immediately recognizes, ‘The Anthem’ by Good Charlotte. It comes from his ‘Jisung playlist,’ which Jisung doesn’t know exists, but it’s where Minho compiles songs he thinks the younger would like.
“What do you want to do in the future?” Minho blurts out, surprised by his own curiosity.
Jisung seems just as surprised, raising an eyebrow at Minho as he exhales smoke into the air. “Why’re you asking?”
Minho just shrugs. “Just curious.” Because saying he’s interested wouldn’t be right. Well, it would be true, but it wouldn’t be normal for them.
“I make music with a couple of friends. It’d be nice to do that full-time.”
It’s a small piece of information, but Minho feels like he’s just learned something significant. He didn’t know that, and now he knows something about Jisung. He knows something real about him.
Outwardly, though, he just nods, taking the cigarette from the younger and taking a drag.
He wants to ask. What friends, what are they called, what kind of music do they make? But he knows that would be breaking an unspoken rule. He does it anyways.
“What are you called?”
“3RACHA,” Jisung replies, and then they fall back into silence.
It’s getting late. Minho knows he needs to get home so he can get some sleep before school tomorrow, but he doesn’t want tonight to end.
Even still, he’ll see Jisung again. Possibly next week, probably not sooner.
“We should go,” he says quietly.
“Yeah,” Jisung agrees, and maybe Minho’s being hopeful, but he almost sounds sad to leave.
They finish off that last cigarette before standing up from the ground and brushing the dirt off their clothes, and Minho walks home alone.
☆ ~ { 🚬 } ~ ☆
The next day at school, things are the way they usually are.
Minho walks through the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, heading toward his first class of the day. Jisung and his friends Chan and Changbin are already there, talking and laughing in the back of the classroom. The distinct sound of Jisung’s giggle is strangely relaxing for Minho, always making him feel better in the rare moments he hears it.
He glances at the group of boys, his eyes meeting Jisung’s for barely a moment before he looks away, heading to his usual seat in the back by the window. The teacher begins the lesson, though his mind is elsewhere. It’s on Jisung, as it is more often than he’d like to admit. He and Jisung don’t speak at school, that’s a rule, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t think about him.
It had always felt like there was some sort of attraction between them. Not the romantic kind, but the magnetic kind. Like Minho was always drawn to him, their eyes always meeting briefly, always ending up near one another despite everything.
During lunch, Minho sits with a few classmates he knows well enough, picking at his food. It’s boring, and he’d rather be sitting alone, but he knows that’s not a good idea for his reputation, especially since he really doesn’t want to be approached by anyone.
As the day progresses, he and Jisung’s paths cross multiple times, in class, in the hallways, during gym. Each time, they pass without a word or even a glance. To any onlooker, it’d seem like they don’t know each other at all. And in a way, they don’t, not at school anyway.
At the end of the day, Minho steps outside into the cold air, backpack slung over one shoulder and ready to go home and be alone. He sees Jisung leaning against the wall of the school, alone while he waits for his ride. They make eye contact, a little more recognition in the gaze than before, but Minho doesn’t even consider saying anything.
He turns around without a word, blending into the crowd of students heading home. They’re strangers right now, the only understanding between them comes in the quiet of night away from prying eyes, when they’re something.
☆ ~ { 🚬 } ~ ☆
The rhythmic thumb of bass-heavy music echoes through the room as Minho stretches, feeling the tension in his muscles ease.
This is how he spends all his Monday and Thursday afternoons, in the practice room with his dance group, letting the music control his movements and letting go of the day’s tension. He glances around at the others, most of them stretching, some talking amongst themselves and others just arriving as they prepare for the start.
Minho knows that this is the day they’re going to start talking about the competition. It’s in 6 months and it’s going to be a big deal for them. Everyone’s been talking about how it’s a way to get themselves on the map, both individually and as a group.
“Alright everyone, over here” Yeji calls, her voice heard over everyone’s chatter, getting the attention of the dancers.
Everyone makes their way toward the centre of the room, Minho joining them in a sort of semicircle in front of Yeji.
“As you all know, the competition is six months away. This is our chance to make a name for ourselves as a group, and for you to get yourselves out there individually. There will be scouts in the audience, we know that for sure, and I know some of you are looking for dance scholarships, so we all need to give 110%” she began, her tone serious. “We need to start planning our routine now if we want to blow the judges away.”
A murmur of agreement ripples through the group. Minho glances around and his teammates expressions, seeing the same mix of nerves and excitement that he feels.
Yeji continues, “So, I want everyone to start thinking about songs, themes and moves to make our performance stand out. First of all, music. I’m going to need suggestions.”
“I have a suggestion,” Minho is blurting out before he even thinks about it. It’s not a common occurrence for him to speak during these sessions, so all eyes are immediately on him. “Chkchk boom by 3RACHA.” So, maybe Minho had gone home that night and done some very light research on Jisung’s rap group. And maybe he really, really likes their music. “It has a good rhythm and I think we can do something really unique with the choreography.”
Yeji looked at him thoughtfully. “Alright, let’s give it a listen.” She takes out her laptop and types in the song name, pressing play on the video and letting the song play, looking contemplative.
When the song ends, Minho glances around at his teammates’ reactions, and they seem interested. After a moment of thinking, Yeji finally spoke up.
“I like that, it’s different, but I think it has potential. Minho, you’ll need to sell it to me. Come back next Monday with an outline for the choreography and then we’ll talk.”
She speaks with a strict, commanding tone, but Minho knows this is actually a huge compliment coming from her.
He nods in response, accepting the offer.