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Summary
“That– That was Minho,” Jisung croaks, speaking in English, still in a state of shock. He’s vaguely aware of how little he’s helping to clear up the confusion, but Felix seems to understand anyway, the realization dawning on him.
“Wait– like, the Minho? Childhood best friend Minho?” Felix questions, talking in English too.
Jisung nods slowly, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing it – yet another nervous habit he can never seem to break.
He doesn’t know why he didn’t consider this – running into Minho again. Afterall, he did move back to Seoul, the exact place he had fled from.
“I still don’t know what you two had a falling out over,” Felix points out, his tone gentle.
Jisung shakes his head. “I– I still don’t want to talk about it. Just know… I fucked it up.”
or:
After running away from Seoul years ago, Jisung finds himself moving back with no choice but to face Minho and what he's done, learning new things about himself along the way.