Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At the age of 23, Hyunjin feels 18. He’s stuck, haunted by the ghost that lives next door, the mere sight of the walls taunting him, plaguing him, laughing at his face. Maybe it’s silly, but Hyunjin has always been one to take things to his heart—and the absence of one Kim Seungmin in his life is like a wound that keeps tearing open again and again, no matter how Hyunjin does his everything to let it heal.

He avoids letting his thoughts travel to what once was. Rather keeps the curtains of his childhood bedroom drawn closed, tries to find a middle ground between cherishing the memories and trying to banish them from his mind. Even five years later, he can’t quite move on, even despite having found solace in acceptance.

For the first year, he lives in a false narrative. Tries to chase for glimpses of the past while simultaneously holding onto the past to keep himself from wallowing in misery.

When reality kicks in, he lets himself sulk. Curses the songs he used to listen to, curses the shows and movies he used to watch. They’re a bunch of reminders, nothing more.

Ultimately, he starts finding himself ridiculous. Not everyone and everything is out to get him, they’re not mocking him. When he visits his mother during the holidays, the house next door doesn’t shoot shards of glass through his heart.

He still likes to distract himself more often than not. Prefers to ignore the small glimpses he catches of Seungmin’s ghost in the taste of hot chocolate or in the winter breeze—the glimpses of his best friend, of the one who stole his heart from his sleeve and took it with him to the other side of the globe. It’s not a big deal, they were never even together, Hyunjin tells himself, yet longs, longs, longs.

For five years, he yearns. He wakes up, remembers how his dreams were never achieved, gets through the day, goes to sleep, and prays things would change. They never do. And maybe it’s dramatic to long for something that’s slipped from him half a decade ago, but Hyunjin no longer has hope for the yearning to ever stop; as the days turned into weeks, which then turned into months and finally years, Hyunjin made his peace.

He knows moving on would be timely, but it’s impossible. There’s nothing he can do, not when Hyunjin feels trapped in time, thrown to the past the second he hears a laugh which resembles Seungmin’s an eerie amount, or whenever the air smells precisely like it once smelled all those years ago.

Nostalgia’s a bitch, and Hyunjin can’t escape it.

He’s stuck. What goes around comes around, so he’s not even surprised it’s his childhood home in his decaying hometown he finds himself living in after university. Again.

He knows he’s a coward, knows he’s pathetic, yet he keeps going on, as if it’s his second nature. Moving forward, day after day. Avoiding the playground he met Seungmin at where nothing except for the rusty and screeching swings remain, never stepping foot near the abandoned train tracks where they had escaped only to walk along them for hours on end without a destination, and rather looking the other way than glancing at Seungmin’s old house, which was more of a home to him than his own house has ever been.

He doesn’t consider himself sad. He doesn’t feel happy either, for that matter. His life is quite stable: he has a job at a nearby bar, he takes care of the house on behalf of his mother, he dances and paints in his freetime, and has his coworkers to consider as something akin to friends.

Hyunjin is the only one from their former friend group who remains, still stuck in the cage each of them had been dreaming to escape. It’s disheartening, not having the slightest of clues about where any of his former friends are now. They used to be eight, a group of boys with dreams about reaching the stars, and Hyunjin feels bitter. Bitter that he was unfortunate enough to stay behind. Bitter that he never escaped. He can only blame himself.

None of Hyunjin’s life satisfies him.

He can chase after the highs and wallow in the lows, but he still doesn’t quite feel anything as he once used to. Is he depressed? Perhaps, but that’s something he won’t admit until he’s six feet under.

Every now and then, Hyunjin gets hit with a wave of ennui so overwhelming he needs a break from the haziness of his life and the days that blend together—even if that means succumbing to his desolation. That’s when he romanticizes the hell out of his life, puts on some nostalgic songs, takes a trip down memory lane and wanders along the streets he once walked with his person. He naively imagines how one day he’s bound to run into Seungmin again, properly. Maybe they’ll reconnect, get back what they lost, or, in Hyunjin’s wildest dreams, gain something new. Something Hyunjin still longs for so much he aches.

Goes without saying, it’s a childlike wish.

It’s a cloudy day in the middle of April as Hyunjin is sitting on one of the two swings that to this day ornament the playground. The former red color has long ago faded into a maroon one, and the seats of the swings are covered in markings of some young vandals who think scribbling over playground objects is peak delinquency.

His eyes wander across the horizon as his legs dangle. There’s a pair of kids running a circle around the slide, one seemingly chasing the other. They’re laughing, cheerful and high-pitched. Still having their lives ahead, still holding that positive outlook on the world of a child. Hyunjin smiles, bittersweet, thinking about all that could have been.

He wishes he’d have a hint of his optimism left. Maybe his days would go by easier, maybe his heart would feel lighter. He sighs, shakes his head. It’s all so pathetic—that’s what Hyunjin’s life is.

In their pathetic little town Hyunjin swore to escape, dust covering the streets, all alone with no one but his worn off mother as his company, his life is truly pitiful. Wasting away his days, Hyunjin lives on.

As a five-year-old, Hyunjin’s days aren’t all that devoid of human interaction. He’s a lively child who will play with anyone and everyone, despite their differing interests, all cofactors aside. All it requires for Hyunjin to make a friend is an exchange of hellos. He loves going to the kindergarten his mother drops him off every morning, for in the midst of a crowd is where he belongs . Smiles and laughter all around him, everyone getting along.

It’s not like Hyunjin wants to be the center of attention; he only feels a deep sense of belonging in his kindergarten friend group, playing house and giggling alongside everyone. There, Hyunjin can be anyone he wants to be. The president, a princess, even a horse!

One day, Hyunjin is on the playground with six of his friends. One of the kids’ fathers, Jisung’s, is watching after them.

He has a nice group of friends; Chan, a lively and empathetic kid, who’s the oldest of everyone; Minho, who loves to play pranks on his friends; Changbin, who tries to act all tough but deep down is the most sensitive person Hyunjin has ever met; Jisung, with whom Hyunjin keeps on getting into silly arguments, but who always makes him laugh with his stomach; Felix, who’s the newest addition to their group, having moved from Australia some months ago; and Jeongin, the youngest of them, but who still often is the one guiding their playground dates.

The seven children are playing tag with a twist of the tagger being an evil witch and the others being brave knights who must run from the witch to make it back to their castle, to their princesses. Hyunjin doesn’t exactly understand why they must have princesses to run back home to. But he doesn’t mention it, as objectifying others is already something he has grown a fear of.

He never dares do it at home, and he never dares do it with his friends.

“No, no! Not me! My princess hasn’t seen me in months!” Chan laughs and screams while swiftly avoiding being tagged.

Hyunjin is catching his breath some feet away from Chan’s struggling, as he just managed to duck under the tagger’s, Felix’s, reaching arm.

But he gets distracted. There’s a boy on the swing, looking down at his feet while his mother (it must be his mother, Hyunjin assumes) tries patting his back but gets pushed away by the violently frowning boy.

Why does he look so upset?

Hyunjin forgets all about the tag as he strolls towards the swings with pure determination in his steps. Maybe Jeongin yells after him, but Hyunjin is already too occupied by this other boy to hear his friend.

With his head tilted and his lower lip jutted out in a pout, Hyunjin looks at the boy in front of him. He doesn’t see it, but the presumed mother gives a blinding smile to his son, and gives Hyunjin way as he appears.

“Why are you here all alone?”

The frown doesn’t falter. “Because.” He crosses his arms.

“Come play with me!” Hyunjin brightens and smiles, offering his hand for the boy who he has to look slightly upwards to in order to meet his eyes, as he is still situated on the red swing.

“Why?”

“I want to be friends! My name is Hyunjin.”

“Why do you want to be my friend?” The boy’s eyebrows are still furrowed and his eyes narrowed, but the crinkle in his forehead is slowly smoothening out.

“Because I just do!”

“I don’t want to play.”

“Why not? We can play that we’re traveling the world! We can go anywhere!”

“Mom says you’re not supposed to travel with strangers.”

“I told you my name already, so I’m not a stranger anymore!”

“But I am to you,” the boy is stubborn, which Hyunjin is still quite too young to register, but he finds amusement in the way his eyes look funny, like he’s angry.

“Tell me your name and then you’re not anymore.”

He looks up at his mother, who gives an approving nod. “I’m Seungmin,” the boy jumps off from the swing and starts walking. Hyunjin follows, smiling brightly as the boy, Seungmin, wordlessly agrees to play with him.

“Where do you want to travel to, Seungmin?” Hyunjin wonders as he picks up a stick from the ground and starts drawing a car they can travel by.

”I don’t know. I don’t even know what places I can travel to,” Seungmin furrows his eyebrows.

Hyunjin traces the outlines of a car into the surface of the ground. It’s drawn from the side, so logically, there’s no way they could go inside. But it doesn’t matter, not in the slightest: when you’re only five, details barely make a difference. ”We can go to America! My mom always watches movies from there, and when I ask why everything is so different she just says because it’s America. It’s always sunny there!” Hyunjin explains as he thickens the lines of the wheels.

Seungmin has tilted his head to the side. ”It can’t be sunny all the time,” there’s a precocious tone to his voice, “There’s a night-time there, too.”

Hyunjin drops the stick and his mouth falls slightly agape. “Really?!”

It makes Seungmin giggle. “You’re a dummy, of course night comes everywhere!”

Hyunjin pulls a face, but continues drawing the car anyway. “Our car is done! Get in and I can drive!”

Seungmin tilts his head, once again. Hyunjin finds it funny. “You look like a puppy!” he giggles, but doesn’t get a reaction as Seungmin only seems confused.

“Do we have to lay down on our sides to get in there?”

Only pointing it out makes the realization dawn on Hyunjin. “Oopsie,” he grins. “We’ll just run!” With that, he grabs Seungmin’s hand and starts sprinting across the playground.

They end up next to a slide.

“Here’s ice cream! What flavor do you want?” Hyunjin starts scooping the air.

“Pistachio with chocolate sauce.”

“Ew,” he grimaces but follows the order, scooping some air and handing Seungmin the finished product.

As they start looking for a pool (Hyunjin says there was a pool in America in one of his mother’s movies), Hyunjin explains how he wants to be a traveler when he grows up.

“I’m going to go to every place! I’ll see America and every other one of the places, that’s what I want to be. Who will you be when you grow up?”

“I’m going to be a doctor like my mom!” Seungmin points to his mother who is standing by the swings.

“My mom just writes something on her laptop and talks to people all day. That’s what she told me. And my dad’s job is to watch TV and drink something from his big mug. But I’m never allowed to taste what he’s having,” Hyunjin frowns. He thinks it’s unfair that only adults get to do certain things. “What does your dad do?”

“I don’t have a dad.”

“Of course you do! Everyone does! My mom said that.”

Seungmin shrugs his shoulders. “Not me.”

It makes Hyunjin confused. How can he not have a dad? Maybe Hyunjin will ask later today about it from his mother.

For the rest of the day (or for the next hour, which is practically the whole day for a five-year-old) Hyunjin takes Seungmin to different places all around the world on the premises of the playground. They have fun, and Hyunjin is happy to have found a new friend. Once Seungmin’s mother signals that it’s time to go, she asks where Hyunjin lives. Obviously, Hyunjin can only point to a direction and say over there, but with Jisung’s father chiming in, they end up finding out they live right next to each other anyway.

Why Hyunjin never knew it before he can’t know, but it’s not like it matters to him, anyway.

“Hyunjin-ah, now you can come play with me every day if you want to!” Seungmin rejoices.

And so he does. Almost without fail, the pattern being broken only if either is sick to the point of not being able to function properly, Hyunjin goes to Seungmin’s house every single day.

At the age of eight, Hyunjin still spends most of his days at Seungmin’s. They find great joy in shutting themselves out from the whole wide world in the treehouse built on the large oak in the backyard.

The perks of small towns; spacious yards.

One time Hyunjin wonders where exactly the treehouse has come from. He voices the question after Seungmin’s mother brings them milk and cookies for a snack.

”What are these kinds of trees that grow houses? I want one too,” he wonders with frown lines between his eyebrows.

Hyunjin is a little oblivious to how the world exactly works, the blame for this going for none other than his parents, but Seungmin always kindly educates him with his impossible wisdom—after laughing at his stupid question.

”Trees don’t grow houses, you dummy. The treehouse has to be built. With these wooden planks,” Seungmin knocks on one of the walls, ”And you have to use a hammer and nails to make the planks stay together.”

Hyunjin’s mouth widens as he breathes out an ah with an enlightened nod. ”Where do you get people who can build them?” he questions further. He’s not exactly sure what prompts him to inquire about this now, because they have been spending time here for closer to years already. Maybe his brain just decides to start bugging him about the wonders of the world very impromptu, and it has very little to do with how new a concept may or may not be to him.

”I don’t know. Maybe someone does it for a job,” Seungmin muses with a shrug of his shoulders.

”Where did you find the person who built this?”

”It was my dad,” Seungmin breaks out into a bright smile as he announces it with pride.

So far, Hyunjin has learned that Seungmin’s father is gone. That much he was told by his own mother, before she urged Hyunjin not to ask any further questions about it from Seungmin. He felt confused, all too used to blurting out each and every question that pops up in his head, but he always listens to his mother—well, except for the times when he doesn’t—because Daeun is Hyunjin’s only reliable source of information.

”When did he leave? Where did he go? My mom said I shouldn’t be asking so many questions about it, but you always answer me, right Seungminnie?”

Seungmin doesn’t look too bothered by it. ”A car hit him when I was a baby. He built this before that.”

”So… he got hurt?” Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrow and his lower lip juts out into a pout. He does understand the concept of death, as one time in his mother’s movie a character died, and she explained it to him: people stop existing eventually. They can’t live forever. When they leave, it’s like they’re sleeping forever.

”Yeah, so hurt he’s gone now,” Seungmin still smiles in a crooked way as he explains.

”Do you miss him?” Hyunjin wonders with his head tilted to the side as he chews on a chocolate chip cookie. He really loves the cookies Seungmin’s mother bakes.

Seungmin seems to think about it for a moment. ”No, I don’t think so. I don’t even remember him. I think about him sometimes, but it feels like he’s still with me every time I come here.”

Hyunjin’s forehead forms a deep crinkle. Although he barely grasps what Seungmin is saying, he wonders how he can think such abstract thoughts. Hyunjin is yet to discover just how wise Seungmin is, but one day he’ll be old enough to understand, mature enough to admire his mind an impossible amount.

”So the treehouse is like your dad?”

Seungmin laughs, and Hyunjin’s forehead smooths out. ”Maybe. A little.”

”I like your dad then. He’s very nice,” Hyunjin nods enthusiastically, and they revert back to drawing portraits of themselves in any undiscovered areas left for them to discover. They have their whole lives ahead, and Hyunjin likes the thought of finding an amusement park as fun as the one he is currently drawing the two visiting.

Hyunjin’s drawings have always been a little nicer-looking than Seungmin’s. Neither of them ever comments on the fact.

One day, after Hyunjin gets off from school an hour later than Seungmin does, he eagerly runs right back home. He’ll only leave his backpack and in turn grab his two stuffed animals and then go right back to where he always goes: the treehouse in Seungmin’s backyard, which has become a safe haven for him.

“Hyunjin-ah!” His father’s stern voice has Hyunjin stopping in his tracks as he’s already zooming down the stairs with his plushies tucked in his arms.

“Yes, dad?” Hyunjin cautiously walks up to his father, who is, as always, swallowed by his large armchair, a bottle of beer in his hand. He doesn’t know where the agitation derives from, but each time his father addresses him, Hyunjin feels a little lightheaded. He thinks there’s something tightening inside his chest

“You going to that boy’s house again?” Hyunjin’s father asks in a raspy voice with a charged tone.

“Seungminnie’s, yeah.”

“Why are you always there? You have more important things to do. Have you even—” he hiccups, “—done your homework?” He sounds a tad bit heated, but it’s not like Hyunjin can separate the usual tensed up demeanor from a truly irritated one.

“Yes” he informs with a nod before continuing with a small voice. “I always do extra work on the weekends so I have free time after school to play with Seungminnie.”

His mother soon chimes in. “Which you would see just fine if you paid any attention, because your son sits at the kitchen table for multiple hours every Saturday and Sunday, almost without fail.” The signature exhaustion is seeping from Daeun’s voice—not that Hyunjin can pinpoint it, as it’s there every hour of every day, so it’s all he knows.

His father bites something back, but Hyunjin is already slipping from the situation, halfway out the door, as he’s decided the conversation is no longer a place for him to remain in.

He runs as fast as his tiny legs only allow him to, up until he’s panting heavily at the root of the large oak tree. Seungmin is usually in there from the second he gets home, and Hyunjin has only had to go knocking on his front door to look for him a total of three times before.

Hyunjin climbs up the ladder, maneuvering himself up each step with caution to keep his precious plushies from falling from his grasp. One of them is a puppy, and the other is a llama. Back when Hyunjin got the two as a present for his sixth birthday, he instantly went to Seungmin for name recommendations. Seungmin told him the llama reminded him of Hyunjin, but that Hyunjin was also a ferret. His knowledge of basic English prompted him to come up with the name Jiniret. So when Hyunjin said it would only be fair to name the puppy at least somewhat after Seungmin (because Seungmin really resembles a puppy), the name PuppyMin, or PuppyM for short was created.

So now, with Jiniret and PuppyM in his arms, Hyunjin makes his way up to the small deck in front of the entrance of the treehouse. He knocks. Before he can open his mouth to inform that he’s there with their children (yes, PuppyM and Jiniret are their children), he hears Seungmin yelling from inside.

“Go away! Why can’t everyone just go away?” Seungmin has to be moping. Hyunjin can tell by his voice. He’s a bit short-tempered, hot-headed, and when upset, he ends up snapping at others and locking himself up somewhere alone.

Hyunjin’s lip twists into a pout. “Seungminnie?” He asks with a small voice, lip almost quivering with fear over Seungmin potentially being mad at him. What if he never wants to play with Hyunjin again?

He does have other friends—they’re a rather tight-knit group with the six other kids—but Seungmin is his best friend. The one Hyunjin shares the wildest imaginary worlds with, the one Hyunjin always laughs the most with.

It’s quiet for some time, before Seungmin’s voice is carried to his ears again. “Hyune-yah? Is that you?”

“Yes. And your two children. They miss their dad,” Hyunjin says with a tinge of hurt in his tone. He’s always been sensitive, so now the thought of Seungmin possibly wanting to abandon Hyunjin and their children is making him feel small.

“Oh.”

“Do you really want everyone to go away?” Hyunjin cautiously asks, his voice small and strained.

There’s a short silence before Hyunjin hears steps approaching the doorway. “Everyone except you. You can stay,” Seungmin’s voice is far from the agitated one Hyunjin heard moments before. The door opens. A corner of Seungmin’s mouth quirks upwards, but the ghost of a smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Hi Minnie! They missed you,” Hyunjin reaches out the two plushies towards Seungmin as he enters, and the latter grabs them into a hug. His eyes turn to moon-crescents as he nuzzles his face into the soft animals.

“Why did you want everyone to go away?” Hyunjin can’t help but ask with a slight furrow in his eyebrows with his head tilted to the side.

Seungmin’s face slightly drops at that, his lower lip jutting out. “I got an 85 from a science test.”

It’s such a Seungmin-like reason for such a Seungmin-like struggle. Hyunjin can’t help but chuckle. “That’s the highest I’ve gotten from a science test,” he says with a beaming smile. Seungmin really is smart in every way possible, and Hyunjin wonders how he can excel in everything. Hyunjin himself is… well, he’s average. Lacks critical thinking and the capacity to comprehend complex and mathematical issues, but makes up for it in creativity. His mother  praises him for his beautiful mind, and that’s enough for Hyunjin.

”Yeah, but when I’m a doctor I have to be perfect! I can’t cure people only 85 percent, I have to do it 100 percent,” Seungmin huffs with a frown, leaning back into a wall and slumping down as he hugs the plushies even closer to his chest.

Hyunjin walks over to pat his head, the brown hair flopping over his forehead and going into his eyes. ”Stop it, you’re gonna blind me!” Seungmin exclaims as his lips pucker, but Hyunjin only giggles and continues his patting even more eagerly, the accelerating pace of the motion making the soft pats transform into taps.

After a moment of Seungmin staring at him expressionlessly, he eventually lets a smile creep on his face. Oftentimes Hyunjin likes to annoy him, not because he enjoys seeing Seungmin annoyed, but because he always breaks out into laughter in the end.

”But you’re not a doctor yet! You don’t have to be perfect,” Hyunjin smiles brightly, and finally a laugh escapes Seungmin’s priorly pursed lips.

”See, Jiniret and PuppyM agree with me, don’t you guys?” he squats down to Seungmin’s level, looking at each of the stuffed animals in turn. The smile on his face only widens when Seungmin keeps giggling.

”They say yes,” Hyunjin pointedly nods.

It’s at the age of eleven when Hyunjin starts understanding; that’s when the rose colored glasses slowly begin lifting from his eyes.

When all he’s ever known is a binge-drinking dad and a work-centered mom, he’s never questioned if it’s how things should be.

His friends always tell stories about their parents, especially about their fathers; about how they went out to fish, or for a walk, or about how they spent the whole night watching movies.

And so piece by piece, day by day, the big picture unveils itself for him.

It’s a beautiful and serene summer day when his father is all Hyunjin can suddenly think about. Their friend group is having a picnic at a field, and Changbin is explaining how he wants to become as strong as his father.

”He works out six days a week and he can bench, like, all of us combined!” he claims with firm nods, ostentatious.

Seungmin cocks an eyebrow at that. ”I highly doubt that.”

”Shut up, smartass,” Changbin scowls, making half the group laugh. He has a tendency to exaggerate and swank about this and that, but it’s more funny than it is annoying.

Hyunjin listens with half an ear as the bickering goes on, running his fingers through the grass and picking some flowers. All he can think about is his father; his stupid armchair, his stupid TV shows and his stupid goddamn beers.

He’s never really spoken about the whole thing. Never voiced how his own father, someone who’s supposed to guide and support him, only brings him an uncomfortable clenching sensation in his chest, only fills him with anxiety and dread. Maybe he should speak to Seungmin about it. Seungmin always understands.

It’s taken quite some time for Hyunjin to acknowledge what exactly it is that pulls his guard up each time his father addresses him. Right now, he only has to close his eyes and picture the grumpy voice calling for him to feel nauseous. He’s never done so much as lay a hand on Hyunjin or his mother for what it’s worth, but when each word that leaves his mouth is only condemning, demeaning and devoid of all love, can Hyunjin be blamed for beginning to resent him?

He feels Seungmin poke his side. “Hyunjin-ah? Everything okay?” It’s a wonder how even at such a young age he has the inexplicable ability to sense others’ emotions so flawlessly.

Hyunjin gets pulled from his thoughts, the mental string consisting of each time his father has yelled at him slipping from his grasp and escaping with the wind. “Oh. Yeah.” To further prove his point, he picks a strawberry from a bowl on their blanket and shoves it at Seungmin’s face, making him frown. In the attempt to make him eat it, Hyunjin hits his pursed lips with the strawberry, breaking out into laughter before Seungmin finally gives in and takes a bite.

“You’re annoying.”

Hyunjin only laughs.

When Felix brings up all the fun things they can do this summer, it’s all Hyunjin can think about, the thoughts about his father crawling somewhere to the back of his mind.

The day flows by nicely, and once it’s nearing curfew time, the boys begin packing up their stuff and making their way back home. The field is located fairly close to everyone, and their small town is the furthest from a dangerous one, so even Jeongin as the youngest from the bunch is allowed to stay out quite late.

Spikes of laughter echo from the eight up until the moment they need to split up. Hyunjin and Seungmin are the first ones to part from the rest as they begin heading towards their homes.

Hyunjin’s thoughts start bothering him again the second they take a turn towards their street. His eyes fixed to the ground, he chooses a round, interesting-looking rock to kick for the rest of the journey. “Seungmin-ah?”

“Mh?”

“Would it be bad if someone didn’t like their dad?”

Seungmin seems to fall in thought. “No, I don’t think so. Nobody can get along with everyone, there are always people you won’t like. It’s just really bad luck if someone has a dad they don’t like. Why?”

He always makes so much sense. Hyunjin thinks it’s unfair how he can’t be as reasonable as Seungmin, and how he’s unable to understand the world to the extent Seungmin does.

“I don’t think I like my dad,” Hyunjin confesses, his voice small.

“Why?”

Hyunjin shrugs. He can’t explain it, not fully, but it doesn’t stop him from trying. “He’s a little scary sometimes. I think he makes me afraid. Sometimes.”

“Afraid of what?” They’ve stopped walking right in the middle of their street, allowing the conversation to continue.

Hyunjin thinks for a minute, then settles for an answer. “That I do something wrong.”

“What would happen if you did something wrong?”

He doesn’t really know. All he knows is that the idea is terrifying, that his father would not be happy. “He’d be mad. I hate when he’s mad. He’s scary when he’s mad.” Hyunjin speaks with his voice still quiet, his eyes glued to the rock he keeps kicking back and forth between his feet.

Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow. “Has he hurt you?” The concern in his tone is irrefutable.

Hyunjin shakes his head. ”He’s just a jerk sometimes. Says… mean things.”

”That’s not fair. You should be able to make mistakes without being afraid.” Seungmin flashes him an emphatic smile, and Hyunjin feels understood. He’s always been more or less scared of speaking up if something is bothering him, so talking to Seungmin, sweet, understanding Seungmin, makes him feel like his heart is now half lighter than it used to be.

”If he’s being mean you can always come to my house,” Seungmin offers, a bright smile appearing on his face. Hyunjin smiles back. Subconsciously, he’s started feeling more comfortable in Seungmin’s house than in his own, so Seungmin’s offer is truly consoling.

“Thank you, Seungminnie.”

So if Hyunjin was already visiting his house often, he now does it even more frequently, for longer periods of time. He’s honestly spending more time at Seungmin’s house than he is at his own home. Seungmin always assures he doesn’t mind, yet Hyunjin can’t help but have his doubts.

During a chilly fall afternoon, the two are playing Mario Kart on Seungmin’s bedroom floor, and Hyunjin is completely beating Seungmin’s ass.

”Ha!” Hyunjin laughs, victorious, as his shell lands yet another hit.

”I hate this game,” Seungmin blankly states, yet can’t help but let a smile creep on his face when Hyunjin cheers at his own victory.

”I love this game!”

”Break time, please?”

Hyunjin nods, leaving his controller on Seungmin’s bed while the latter starts making his way towards the kitchen, Hyunjin in tow. ”Mom! Do we have anything to eat?”

Before she can answer, the two find her with a hand in her hair, sighing deeply at the despairing sight of the kitchen floor covered in packages of dry ingredients and canned foods. ”Well, as you can see, there’s plenty,” she chuckles.

”What are you doing?” Seungmin wonders with his eyebrows furrowed.

”Organizing the pantries,” she flashes a crooked smile, ”Or, trying to organize the pantries. Got a burst of energy, but now it’s gone.”

Hyunjin immediately wants to offer his help. ”What if we finished doing that?” Seungmin and his mother are always so kind to him, so he can’t help but want to offer even the tiniest favor.

”Oh, no, you boys just go play, I’ll be fine with this.”

”No, mom, that might actually be fun,” Seungmin gets intrigued, slightly tugging on her sleeve to further assure her.

She glances at each of them, eyes smiley and soft, and ends up nodding. ”Well, if you insist.”

So the two begin to sort the items into different categories, throwing out expired cans of tuna and whatnot. It turns out to be quite entertaining, and Hyunjin basks in the feeling of being helpful. At home, he’s always pushed aside, never allowed to assist in anything. Someone might say he should be glad he has no chores to do, but it only makes him feel insignificant, useless; as though he’s merely another item in their household, a piece of furniture to wipe some dust off once every month—nothing more.

”Why’d you offer to do this?” Seungmin suddenly wonders, maneuvering his way across the kitchen, cautiously evading the piles of boxes.

”Well, I always hang around here, your mom offers me food all the time, and I don’t just wanna be a burden,” Hyunjin explains with a shrug, crouched over on the floor as he checks the expiration dates on some canned fruits.

”You’re not a burden,” Seungmin jumps in to assure him, his forehead wrinkling at Hyunjin’s claim. When he doesn’t look convinced, Seungmin resorts to calling out for his mother. ”Mom, you love having Hyunjinnie around, right?”

Hyunjin falls red, glaring at his best friend.

”Of course I do,” she emerges from her bedroom, her signature warm smile adorning her features. ”You’re essentially a part of our family at this point, it honestly feels weird not having you here.”

He can’t believe how anyone can be as sweet as Kim Haeyeon is. His own exhausted mother barely has time for him, and he understands, he really does, but sometimes he can’t help but feel envious.

”See?” Seungmin grins, revealing the uneven row of his front teeth. His mother softly ruffles Hyunjin’s hair before making her way back to her bedroom. ”Thanks for helping me out, boys,” she chirps as she disappears through the doorway.

Hyunjin feels like he belongs.

He’s thirteen when he thinks he’s had enough.

With each year passing by, the resentment only grows, grows, grows, leaving him crying into his plushies every night as he tries to block out the fighting by burying his face into his pillow.

It’s all muffled sounds of the same argument each night.

You’re just a goddamn parasite, can’t even hold a job, don’t even care about your family!

It’s not my fault you kept him.

Yeah, Hyunjin has long ago figured out he was an accident. To his surprise, the sting of it was short-lived, more like a cherry on top of the cake rather than something that made his world crumble. Honestly, maybe it’s because his world is quite crumbled as it is, so what’s a little more cracks to a ground that’s already collapsed?

Once again, he finds himself turning on the TV screen he got for his birthday a couple months prior to watch a drama, turning the volume all the way up at midnight. It’s all he can do at a time like this, when the screaming gets too loud and the lump in his throat grows too big to swallow around.

He finds comfort in his silly, idle little dramas. It’s distracting to get sucked into a dramatic love story; to zone in on the endless longing of the protagonist; to the moments where a simple eye contact or a brush of fingers against skin is everything and more.

Hyunjin loves romance. Always has loved the idea of it. Even when he was a kid, it was the romantic movies his mother watched that always had him the most entranced.

He’s fascinated by the whole concept. What is it exactly that makes one look at another like they’d look at something such as a nebula? What is the feeling powerful enough to drive mankind into the most desperate actions, drive them into prioritizing their lover over everything?

Love seems so grand, so intoxicating—formidable, in a way. To hold someone closely to his heart, to make them feel like the most divine being to ever walk the earth. It’s all Hyunjin desires.

In the awkward and clumsy state of pre teenage, his friends mostly gossip and giggle over the girl in their grade they think is the prettiest, the cutest. These silly, childish crushes which always pass in a few week’s time—although, there was that one time Felix dated a girl for a week until she kissed him on the cheek and Felix decided it wouldn’t work out.

Hyunjin doesn’t really comprehend how they can all look at a girl, think she’s pretty, and develop a crush just like that. He’s young, he knows it, so it’s not like he’s scared of dying alone. It just makes him wonder.

He’s tried going over each girl in his grade, assessing their looks and personalities, but he cannot for the life of him picture himself crushing on any of them.

Maybe he’s just picky. Maybe he’ll be a late bloomer. He doesn’t really know, but it doesn’t really matter anyway.

It’s another coping mechanism to close his eyes shut each night and picture himself as the lead of a drama. Fall in love at first sight, live out all those cliché moments from blushing when a smear of ice cream gets wiped from the corner of his mouth to squealing into his pillow when he gets back from a perfect first date.

In his daydreams, he’s in control. There’s no burned out mother whose eye bags rival the sizes of mountains and who has no time or energy for showing interest in her child, no deadbeat father whose only contribution to his child’s life is a handful of belittling and heart-crushing comments.

Hyunjin’s only escapes are, have always been, and will always be his dramas, his own whimsical dreams of running away with the love of his life, and, of course, his friends—especially Seungmin.

It’s a hasty decision he makes one Friday afternoon to pack his bag and make a couple of sandwiches.

He shoves the neatly packed sandwiches, his plushies, a pencil, a rock he’s grown an emotional attachment to when he was nine, a potato, a quilt, and the contents of his piggy bank into his red school backpack, and he’s about to run downstairs when his eye catches on his plushies. His children. Hyunjin takes PuppyM into his hands, brings it close to his face, assessing. Frees one hand, grabs Jiniret with it. Should he bring them along? Is he too old for that? He’s running away for god’s sake, he isn’t a child anymore.

Thus, he hugs the plushies close to his chest, whispers them a goodbye, and tucks them neatly under a comforter. “I’m sorry but this is where we part. I love you two,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to each of their heads.

He’s not a child, and letting go of his home should come with letting go of his stuffed animals as well. They’ll be fine without him, Hyunjin’s bed is impossibly comfortable.

With that, he deems everything packed. He runs down the stairs and sneaks behind the armchair his father is sleeping in to escape his house. Luckily, his mother is running some errands, so it’s not hard to slip away unnoticed.

Skipping the short distance to Seungmin’s porch, he hums a tune he heard on the radio. Girl’s Generation, I got a boy.

He knocks, bobbing his head to the song playing in his head, his shoulders absentmindedly mimicking the choreography. Girl groups are his guilty pleasure, even though Seungmin keeps assuring him they shouldn't make him feel guilty to begin with.

“Hey, Hyun, what’s up?”

“I’m running away!”

Seungmin’s lips part and his eyebrows lift up. “You’re running away?” he gapes, eyes blinking rapidly. When Hyunjin nods pointedly with a grin on his face, Seungmin snorts.

“Why are you telling me, isn’t running away supposed to be something you keep a secret so people can’t find you?”

“Well, yeah, but—” Hyunjin starts explaining, “I just thought you deserved to know so you don’t get worried. Just don’t tell your mom so she can’t tell my parents..?”

The momentary amusement on Seungmin’s face morphs into incredulity. “Wait— you’re not serious, are you?”

“Of course I am! Just doing my parents a favor, honestly, they don’t have to be burdened with me anymore,” Hyunjin shrugs, indifferent. Does he have a plan? No. Does he need one? Also no. He has his emotional support rock and a potato among other things, he’ll be perfectly fine!

Seungmin keeps blinking, his brows knitting tighter together with each second passing by. His train of thought is visible on his face; the frown of his brows eventually smooths out, and he rolls his eyes with a barely-there shake of his head. “Jesus Christ…” he sighs, leaning on the doorway. “Just give me five minutes, I’m coming with you.”

It’s Hyunjin’s turn to blink. “Oh. Okay.”

This wasn’t his goal, not his plan. Honestly, he only wanted Seungmin to know to grant him peace of mind. Hyunjin cares about his best friend too much to leave without saying goodbye.

Yet it doesn’t come as a surprise. Seungmin always follows him around, humors him and his absurd plans and whims. He complains, yes, makes it painfully clear to Hyunjin how strange he finds him, but he always follows along. Stays by Hyunjin’s side.

Hyunjin steps inside and closes the door behind when Seungmin disappears from the hallway to his bedroom, potentially to pack his bag.

“You got any food with you?” Seungmin calls for him after a beat as he walks past Hyunjin to the kitchen.

“Yep! Sandwiches and a potato!”

Hyunjin hears the sigh loud and clear. He waits patiently by the door, listening to Seungmin forage through the pantries and drawers. “I’ll just leave a quick note for my mom, this’ll only take a moment,” Seungmin mutters from the kitchen, and after said moment passes, he’s accompanying Hyunjin by the door with his black Supreme backpack hanging from his shoulders.

“So, where we going?”

Hyunjin presses his lips together. He hasn’t actually gotten that far. “I don’t know. Away?” he suggests with a wry grin on his face.

Seungmin grabs his wrist and leads them out through the door he opens, pinching the bridge of his nose after pushing the door back shut. “You’re a lost cause without me, Jin, you know that?”

“Of course I do!”

“Good thing you came to me before disappearing, like— you’d be dead on your own within 24 hours.”

“I would so not be dead!” Hyunjin argues, gasping and placing a hand on his heart as they head to the opposite direction from the town center. Far away. To where no one can find them.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow as he lets Hyunjin’s wrist go. ”Really? Did you have any plan at all, then?”

“No,” Hyunjin admits meekly, glancing down at his feet. “But I don’t need one! I’m at my best when I’m just winging it!”

Seungmin snorts. “Sure, because your last minute plans have never failed.”

“Uhh, excuse me, of course they haven’t?” Hyunjin squeaks, upset to his very core. How dare Seungmin belittle his elaborate plans crafted in under a minute like that?

“Need me to remind you of when you winged going swimming and used your clothes as a towel and got sick for a week after it? Or that time when we went on a school trip to that museum and we got lost from the others because of you and you winged finding our way back to them by sitting down and waiting for the others to find us which resulted in everyone searching for us when it was time to leave and it took ages so all the parents were fuming because we got back an hour later than was planned?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “I mean, I did dry myself with the clothes! Not my fault the clothes didn’t dry themselves and I caught a cold. And they did find us eventually at the museum!” he insists. So his plans contain more stepping stones than perhaps is necessary, but they work either way, regardless of the adversities they often entail.

“You’re such a lost cause…” Seungmin sighs.

“Why’d you come with me if my plans are so shitty, then?”

“Because you need me to keep you alive. Did you really think I’d let you run away on your own?”

“I don’t know,” Hyunjin shrugs. “Guess I thought you liked your life here.”

“You thought I liked this shitty town? Oh please, I can’t wait to get away.”

Hyunjin sighs, dreamy, as they enter a forest. The town consists of acres of woods. Fields, lakes, abandoned houses left to rot, rivers running through the quiet forests. It’s something Hyunjin likes about their town. Nature is always close. It’s easy to escape, go outside and explore, play with fantasies about what kinds of people have walked to form the paths Hyunjin now strolls with Seungmin. Were they as eager to get away? Or were they fascinated by their surroundings, glued to this area with the need to explore and settle down? Maybe someone akin to Hyunjin has walked the exact path he walks right now, maybe they’ve dreamed about leaving, going far away, traveling all the lands and cities they’ve heard stories about.

“Where would you go right now if you had the chance?”

Seungmin hums in contemplation. “A big city, I guess. For a change of scenery. New York City, maybe. Explore all of Manhattan.”

“Manhattan…”

"Yep," Seungmin nods pointedly, "After that I’d like to go somewhere quiet again. French countryside, maybe. See the small towns of other countries.”

“Why? Small towns suck, our town sucks. What’s so different about other small towns?”

Seungmin shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not that I hate small towns, I just hate our town. Because there’s nothing new here, and everyone’s so stuck up and prejudiced and nosey.”

“Am I like that too?” Hyunjin is asking because he’s genuinely curious. He barely knows shit about how most of the people are. He only knows his parents and his friend group, and he hasn’t really hit the gold mine with his family, though the latter makes up for what the former lacks to some extent. No, his friends won’t ever fully compensate for the parental love he’s never truly experienced, but he can confide in them. He can forget about everything for a while, even if it all inevitably returns to him once he gets back home and sees his father passed out in that goddamn armchair again.

Seungmin halts in his steps to stare at Hyunjin like he’s grown a second head. He blinks. “Don’t tell me you’re seriously asking that.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “I am…”

“Oh, Jinnie,” Seungmin scoffs in good nature, “You’re the farthest thing from that. I think you’re my favorite part of this town. If it weren’t for you being my friend, I’d hate living here so much more.”

A smile tugs at the corners of Hyunjin’s mouth. He feels an odd sensation in his chest. It’s warm and it feels fuzzy, like drinking hot chocolate after spending all day outside on a cold winter day. “Aw, Seungminnie,” he giggles, slinging an arm over Seungmin’s shoulder and pulling him close. “You’re my favorite part of this town too.” Hyunjin sways them from side to side and nuzzles his face against Seungmin’s shoulder. He needs to tiptoe to do so, for Seungmin’s got some inches over Hyunjin, having started growing at a quick pace during the past winter.

“Okay, thanks, but—” Seungmin tries shooing him away, pushing him by the top of his head. “You don’t have to be so aggressive about it.”

Hyunjin replies with a giggle, only pulling Seungmin closer in retaliation. He stumbles on a rock and the only thing keeping him from falling face first onto the ground is the hand around Seungmin, stabilizing him.

“You know what— I’m taking that back, you’re annoying as hell.”

“Nooo!” Hyunjin whines, giggling all the same, recovering from his almost-fall and letting Seungmin wiggle away from his hold. Regardless of Seungmin’s protesting, Hyunjin knows he loves the affection, even though he hides it behind that curtain of eye rolls and faked grimaces.

He can only ever fool Hyunjin so much.

They come across a train track they start walking along. It’s clearly old; the wood of the railway sleepers rotten, the steel rails a shade of copper with all the rust they’ve gathered. Hyunjin has never been here before, and he can’t help but become fascinated.

“Do you think they use these tracks anymore, Minnie?”

Seungmin shrugs, looks around. “It’s possible. Which is why we’re not crossing a single goddamn bridge if we come across one. I’m not trying to pull a stand by me.”

Hyunjin’s head tips back as he bursts out laughing. They watched the movie last fall. It changed Hyunjin’s life. “I could outrun a train.”

Seungmin’s incredulity is so distinctive and tangible in his laugh Hyunjin thinks he could touch it. Grab it and bottle it up into a jar. “Yeah, sure you could.”

“I’m fast!”

“Which one of us plays baseball sometimes and which one is never active?”

Hyunjin huffs. “Pfft, you might be a good pitcher but your running is just pathetic.” He gains a push to his side with that one.

“So what you’re saying is you could outrun a train but I couldn’t?”

“Yep!” Hyunjin chirps.

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Seungmin murmurs, adjusting his backpack that’s hanging from his shoulders and quickly speeds his steps, laughing when he glances over his shoulder once he’s already jogging, “Race to that big rock over there!”

Hyunjin gasps but doesn’t have time to dwell on the betrayal because Seungmin is sprinting. “You got a head start, not fair!” he squeaks through his laughter.

His laughing isn’t distracting him, though. Hyunjin is determined to win this one. The wind catches on his hair, he feels free. The heaving of his chest doesn’t feel tiring, the adrenaline carrying him onwards.

Hyunjin does reach the rock first, catching up to Seungmin quickly and gaining a short lead over him. When he slows his sprints into jogs and finally stops running altogether, he hunches down to lean his hands on his knees. “Told ya!” he laughs, victorious.

“Okay, well, fuck you.”

Hyunjin cackles, catching his breath and inevitably falling on his knees and then on his back to lie on the ground. “God, I’m so tired now.”

“Good thing I got water. Like, seriously, you can’t run away and not even bring water with you, you’re such an idiot,” Seungmin pants, dropping his backpack on the ground and kneeling down to pull out a bottle of water. He chugs some, then pulls Hyunjin up to sit and hands him the bottle.

“Thank god I have you,” Hyunjin grins, and although it comes out sarcastic, he means it with all his heart. He pours some water down his throat and returns the bottle to Seungmin.

“Thank god you have me.”

“Can we lie down for a moment? Take a break? I’m tired,” Hyunjin whines. They’ve been walking for hours at this point, and Hyunjin’s endurance is nearing its end with the athletic performance he just executed.

Seungmin hums, and Hyunjin pulls out his quilt. He shuffles on his knees to spread it on the ground, some feet away from the rails. He lays his backpack down and falls back onto his back, limbs splayed out in every direction, Seungmin following suit and pulling his legs up onto his feet.

“Seungminnie?”

“Yes?”

“Where are we going to go?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were responsible for that last minute plan.”

Hyunjin shoots him a glare. “Can we get to a train station or something? Buy tickets, leave somewhere. Far away from here.”

“I don’t know.”

“So are we just going to keep walking?”

“I suppose we are.”

Hyunjin hums. A silence falls over them, the only sounds filling the air being the quiet hum of the gentle breeze of the wind, some birds chirping, inhales and exhales. Hyunjin lets his eyes fall shut.

The weather is nice. Rays of sun kissing the apples of Hyunjin’s cheeks, the spring flowers blooming in colors and the grass green. Hyunjin feels happy, light. Like there’s not a thing to worry about, the reality of truly running away still yet to crash down on him. It’s like a bubble he’s living in, a movie, even.

“This place feels really dreamy. Like a setting for a romantic movie.”

Seungmin laughs. “What’s with you and your obsession over romantic movies?”

“They’re just amazing! Like, come on, fleeing with your lover, it’s just the two of you, escaping from the world…”

“Only it’s me with you and not a girlfriend.”

Hyunjin chuckles. “Yeah, but you’re like, the next best thing.”

“Is there anyone you like?” Seungmin asks. They hardly ever discuss girls, not when it’s just the two of them, so Hyunjin is somewhat surprised by the topic.

“No. I wish there was, but none of the girls in our school are that interesting, I guess.”

“What about Jiyoon? She clearly has a crush on you, she dances, and she’s very friendly. She’s pretty too, don’t you think?”

Hyunjin presses his lips into a line and his nose scrunches. Of course he’s noticed Jiyoon’s crush on him. She keeps smiling at him, being overly friendly and giggly in Hyunjin’s presence. She is pretty, yes, and being a dancer adds a layer of appeal to her.

“Yeah, she is… I just— I don’t know. Guess I could have a crush on her.”

“You guess?”

Hyunjin groans and covers his face with his hand. The topic of girls and crushes feels unnecessarily burdensome, regardless of Hyunjin’s infatuation with the concept of love. He decides to direct the conversation elsewhere. “What about you? Do you have a crush on someone?”

“No,” Seungmin states, indifferent.

The conversation ends with that.

It’s already dark when a sense of discomfort is gnawing at Hyunjin’s insides so much he almost feels sick. A cold sweat has been creeping up his neck for the past twenty minutes, and he thinks the sandwich he ate an hour ago is about to come back up the way it went down any minute now.

His pace is slowing down, he has no idea where they are, and he hugs himself tight. “Seungmin?” he asks, voice slightly wavering.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t—” Hyunjin gulps, brows twisting upwards into a frown, “I don’t know if this is a smart idea.”

Seungmin halts his steps, pauses to turn to face Hyunjin. “What isn’t a smart idea?”

Hyunjin feels his eyes burning. “This,” he chokes out, nearing the point of tears at an embarrassing rate. “I— I miss my plushies…”

It’s the thought of his own bed, of Jiniret and PuppyM that he abandoned like some twisted mirror of his own father, it’s the treehouse at Seungmin’s backyard, and, oddly enough, the thought of his mother all alone with his father that makes anxiety and dread pile up at the back of Hyunjin’s throat.

They say the hard part about running away is leaving, but Hyunjin would like to argue.

Seungmin; consoling, caring and sweet Seungmin, grabs his hand with a soft smile. “I know. Wanna go back?”

Hyunjin draws in a shaky inhale. His lower lip is quivering. “I do but I don’t. I just wanna get away, I want it more than anything— But why is it so hard?”

“Because we’re thirteen, Hyunjinnie,” Seungmin huffs a sweet laugh through his nose. He always understands, probably saw this coming from the moment Hyunjin showed up behind his doorstep. “We’ll escape this place eventually, yeah? Together.”

“Promise me?”

“I promise.”

“And we’ll go everywhere? We won’t end up like my mom, will we? Not stuck in an unhappy marriage in a town that eats us alive, right?”

Seungmin shakes his head. “No, we won’t. We’ll go see Manhattan. We’ll travel the world. See everything. But before we can do that, we have to go home.”

Clinging onto Seungmin’s arm, Hyunjin nods his head. He ignores the stray tear escaping his eye, and is happy to follow as Seungmin leads them back to their shitty home street.

Maybe his plan was too ambitious. Maybe he isn’t living the movie he desperately craves to star in. And maybe it’ll take some more years, some growing up and getting through puberty to escape, but Hyunjin swears he won’t stay here. He’ll get away. He’ll conquer the world with Seungmin. One day.

They arrive at Seungmin’s house well into the night. Hyunjin isn’t sure what the time is, but he doesn’t bother to care. He happily crawls under a blanket next to Seungmin on his bed that’s wide enough to fit the two.

If his parents yell at him tomorrow, Hyunjin won’t care. He’ll deal with it later.

“Min?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just… thank you.”

When Hyunjin crawls back home the next morning, almost defeated, he tries to sneak in unnoticed to push off the inevitable.

Only he gets greeted by his mother when he’s taken two steps on the staircase.

“Hyunjin-ah! Going somewhere so early?” her voice is soft, surprisingly brisk.

Hyunjin gulps, turns around. “Going somewhere..? What do you mean?”

“You have your backpack on. Do you have some plans with the boys?”

What? Hyunjin is dumbfounded, so he blinks. “No, I— I just got home. From Seungmin’s. I spent the night there.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows shoot up slightly. “I didn’t even notice you were gone. Did you have a fun sleepover?”

A lump grows in size at the back of Hyunjin’s throat at a record pace. She didn’t even notice?

Who is Hyunjin kidding, of course she didn’t notice. “Uh, yeah. It was fun.”

She offers him a tight-lipped smile and ruffles his hair before disappearing to her study. Hyunjin flies up the stairs and hugs his stuffed animals tight. Maybe his parents wouldn’t miss him if he disappeared, but his babies surely would.

Chapter Text

“Here you go,” Hyunjin gives his mother a tight-lipped smile as he hands her a cup of tea.

He’s exhausted from working the past six nights in a row, barely having gotten any sleep throughout the week. But Daeun is sick and Hyunjin is obligated to help her.

She caught a cold one day when she was raking to clear the lawn of the autumn leaves that have fallen from a maple tree in their backyard. Hyunjin insisted he be the one to do the heavy lifting in regards to their yard, but he supposes his mother feels guilty over having Hyunjin do most of the work around their house.

Hyunjin hates her guilt. Resents her for it. He, however, resents himself far more. It’s not his mother’s fault Hyunjin came crawling right back home after finishing university. Returned home like a soldier from war—except his shitty hometown is more of a battleground than university and the city ever were. Though he supposes he’s been fighting an internal war ever since Seungmin left the country, the battles evolving more devastating when he inevitably lost contact with Seungmin all those years ago.

He’s only been staying with his mother a mere few months, but it feels like an eternity. Like he never left. Dealing with defeat and crawling back home wasn’t as hard on his dignity as Hyunjin had anticipated.

He still dreams, he longs, he yearns, for something more. For the movie he promised himself he’d live out at the age of thirteen.

There’s nothing cinematic about his childhood bedroom, about the shitty bar he works at, about binging the same dramas he used to love as a teenager to catch a glimpse of how it felt to have aspirations, to have hope he’d ever achieve his dreams and not wind up the way he turned out to be after all.

“Thank you, Hyunjin-ah,” she smiles, sniffling with her nose and eyes red. She’s snuggled up under a blanket, Stand by Me playing on the television. Hyunjin aches.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, by all means!”

It’s the grateful smiles his mother grants him, it’s the appreciation she has for his company that make Hyunjin feel content in the decision he’s made.

He still thinks about leaving, how could he not? He dreams about it every night, having already lost count of the number of times his finger has hovered over the purchase button on a plane ticket to New York.

Does Seungmin still live there? Hyunjin doesn’t know.

More than the guilt and the obligation, it’s fear that still binds him to this place. Fear that the world won’t be as marvelous as he’s always thought it is, fear that nothing will get better even if he does leave.

It’s the fear that the world will never feel the same as it once did before his heart shattered, the same as it once did when he still saw reality through the rose colored glasses of a child’s naivety. What is he supposed to do if he does see the Angel Falls in Venezuela, or the Hollywood Sign in Los Angeles, and he can only feel bitter that Seungmin isn’t there by his side?

He’s pathetic and he’s afraid, so Hyunjin suppresses the urge to run away. Suppose it is the leaving that’s the hard part.

As the movie ends, Hyunjin is fighting tears. Fucking nostalgia. He replaces the ache with a happy thought. “Mom, I heard from an old friend of mine this morning.”

She lights up. “Really? Seungmin-ah, is it?”

Hyunjin wishes. “No, no, uhh… it’s Changbin hyung. He used to be a part of our friend group.”

“Oh! I remember him, he was a nice kid.”

Hyunjin hums.

“What’s up with him?” his mother asks.

“He’s visiting home soon. His parents still live here, so.” When his phone pinged with the notification, Hyunjin had been over the moon. It’s once a year he might get a text from an old friend, so to read something other than a hey, it’s been so long, how are you doing was like the highlight of his year. When Changbin not only asked what he’s been up to, but informed he’d be returning to their hometown for a couple of days, Hyunjin had almost burst out in tears.

“Oh, but that’s wonderful! Are you two meeting up?”

“Yeah, next week. He won’t be here long, he’s really busy with the company he founded.” Mostly, he’s been hearing from Changbin via the news. An up and coming young producer Seo Changbin, set to debut his first girl group next year. Hyunjin cannot wait to hear the details. He won’t let envy get the best of him, he’s determined.

Daeun hums. “He’s been busy then, I’d imagine.”

Hyunjin bites the bullet and brushes past the indirect sliver of disdain in her comment. Sometimes Hyunjin gets fed up with his mother, growing tired of how evident it is that she wishes Hyunjin would pursue a career, a relationship, or at least something in his life. Can’t she see she’s one of the factors keeping Hyunjin here?

Except it’s just a shitty excuse he makes, unwilling to admit how fucking afraid he is. Daeun would happily let him go, and deep down, Hyunjin knows that. It’s during times like these, when she’s sick and unable to even cook for herself that Hyunjin thinks he can’t ever leave her behind.

“What about your other friends? Have you talked to any of them recently?”

The conversation is derailing. Hyunjin wants to get away. “No, not really.”

“It’s a shame,” his mother sighs, “You were so close with Seungmin, do you really think you’ve drifted too far away from him to ever reconnect?”

Hyunjin is done. Seungmin is no longer but a mere concept at the back of his brain these days, and Hyunjin has been doing such a great job at keeping it that way, such a great job at maintaining his peace. It’s the mention of Seungmin’s name, a sight or a scent of something oddly familiar that sends him back to his youth that disturbs that peace.

He doesn’t answer. Simply gets up from the couch and grabs the empty mug from the coffee table. “I’m going for a walk.”

The following Thursday evening, Hyunjin meets Changbin at a coffee shop. He’s there before Changbin, and it’s a little embarrassing; this is quite literally the highlight of Hyunjin’s year. He tries not to dwell on how humiliated he’ll feel when he tells Changbin all he’s been doing is finish university and come back to the place he’d sought to escape, working nights at a trashy bar, all the while Changbin has been making a name for himself at a rapid pace.

He’s happy, of course he is; who wouldn’t wish success upon a friend? Yet the ugly bitterness is like a weed corrupting Hyunjin’s mind.

“Hey, Hyunjin-ah!” Changbin’s cheerful greeting comes from the door as he enters. Hyunjin perks up, zoning in on his friend from the wall he’s been staring at.

He stands up and meets Changbin halfway in the distance between them, Changbin’s arms open and inviting. Hyunjin dives right into them, throwing his own around Changbin’s shoulders. “Hyung, oh my god! I see you’ve been busy at the gym.”

Changbin laughs. “You could call it a side-hustle of mine.”

Hyunjin feels seventeen again.

They settle next to the counter to place their orders. Changbin gets an iced americano, Hyunjin gets hot chocolate. The woman running the place, a fifty-something-year-old sweet lady named Sanghee, lights up at the sight of the two. Her eyes all but bug out as the process of recognition makes an appearance on her face. “Are my eyes deceiving me or is it Seo Changbin you’ve brought with you, Hyunjin-ah?”

Hyunjin giggles, Changbin’s jaw goes slack. “You remember me?”

“Of course I do, how could I not? You bunch used to be my most loyal group of customers six years ago. It’s an honor to have you back here, I’m beyond proud of you and your company!”

“Oh, no need to flatter me, ajumeoni,” Changbin chuckles. Hyunjin can't help but smile at how humble he still is. It’s like nothing’s changed—except everything has changed.

Sanghee hands them their drinks and the two sit down. The place is quiet like it always is. It’s a wonder it’s still running; the town slowly dying, its foundations crumbling with every business that goes bankrupt. Bordering on extinction. Sometimes Hyunjin thinks he’ll go down with it.

“So, hyung, the company—congrats! How’d you end up in the idol business?”

Changbin bows his head thank you, smiling with pride. Hyunjin mimics his smile as he starts explaining.

“So, I went to study music, right? I thought I’d just become a producer, but… I got fascinated by the idol industry and I hate how unfair it is. I kept spinning around ideas with Chan hyung, and one thing led to another…”

“Wow, Chan hyung’s with you in that?”

“Yeah, we make a pretty good team,” Changbin nods his head.

Hyunjin wonders whether Changbin is in contact with more of their friends. There’s nothing uglier than bitterness and jealousy.

“So, how’s life going besides the company part?”

In a split second, a fond, even sheepish smile creeps on Changbin’s face. He glances at his lap and lifts up his left hand, wiggling his ring finger—

Holy fuck.

Hyunjin starts beaming at him. “Dude, holy shit!” He can’t resist the urge to grab said hand and observe the silver ring adorned with a row of the tiniest diamonds. Hyunjin’s eyes flicker between the ring and Changbin’s face, his own grin reaching his ears. “Do not tell me I missed the wedding.”

Changbin laughs. “No, no, this is kind of fresh. We got engaged last month. Wedding planning’s kind of a bitch, but there's nothing I wouldn’t do for the love of my life.”

Hyunjin’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. He laughs, “Damn, I’m glad you aren’t hiding what a big softie you are anymore.”

“Nah, there’s no point,” Changbin shrugs with a half-hearted eye roll.

“So, who is she? How long have you known each other, how’d you two meet?”

“Uhm,” Changbin chuckles, gaze dropping back to his feet. He fiddles with the ring as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Not a she.”

Hyunjin can’t bite back a laugh. It’s in good nature, a knowing laugh before anything. “Ahh, I see. So it’s not just me and Min who didn’t turn out straight. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Changbin meets his eyes, and it’s clear as day how hard he’s trying to refrain from laughing. Hyunjin prepares for the name he’ll drop to be one of a celebrity. What he gets, however, is something infinitely better.

“Actually, uhh… It was a chance-meeting a couple of years ago. I was in Italy for this school thing, and it just so happened I ran into Lix who was traveling through Europe and was in Rome at the same time as I. We reconnected, and… here we are now,” Changbin laughs. Hyunjin almost falls off his fucking chair.

“What the fuck?!” he gapes, unsure of how to process this information. “No way, that’s— holy shit, don’t you dare tell me you don’t think that was fate. In Rome? Of all places? Your childhood friend? And you guys fell in love— I— That’s a movie plot you’ve got there, hyung!”

The smile on Changbin’s face is dumb and lovestruck. “Yeah, who would’ve thought?”

“Wow. You guys better invite me to the wedding,” Hyunjin points a stern finger.

“You bet. We’ll have a reunion,” Changbin nods. Hyunjin wonders. He wonders and he dreams and he longs.

Hyunjin’s first personal encounter with alcohol happens when he’s fifteen. School is over for the summer, Chan has graduated, and Felix and Jisung, the duo of menaces that they are, have decided they want to get drunk to celebrate. Celebrate the start of summer, celebrate Chan’s graduation. It’s not hard to get alcohol, everyone knows that Jackson Wang is the go-to guy for that.

Who exactly is Jackson Wang? Hyunjin doesn’t know. He’s more of a legend than he is a real human being. His parties are legendary, and nobody actually knows what he does on the daily. He graduated high school three years ago, and as far as Hyunjin knows, he still hangs around in their dusty town. What for? One can only guess.

It’s Jisung and Minho who take care of the very shady and highly criminal sale deep in the woods on a Wednesday night. It’s not like they’d get caught even in the light; nothing ever happens in their small town, no police units patrol the streets on an average Wednesday night, but when they meet up at school the next day, Jisung tells everybody about how he almost shitted in his pants.

”Like, dude, he isn’t even that tall but I felt like an ant!”

When Saturday arrives, Hyunjin tells his mother he’ll be staying the night at Seungmin’s. His father is passed out in his armchair.

Hyunjin loads his bag with whatever he deems necessary. He’s upgraded from the red one into a black one. Before heading out to look for an appropriate spot to get wasted at, Hyunjin meets up with Seungmin at Seungmin’s house. It’s like they’re attached at the hip, and Hyunjin wouldn’t have it any other way. Seungmin is his best friend, his rock.

”Jin, you gonna drink?” Seungmin asks as he’s donning a coat. It’s more of a fashion statement than it is an effort at keeping him warm.

”Maybe. A little. I don’t know,” Hyunjin shrugs. When all he knows about alcohol is the effect it has on his father, Hyunjin is skeptical.

“Then do you have a bottle and, like something you can cut it with? You’re not gonna be chugging straight vodka, you know, you’d just be throwing it back up.”

Hyunjin blinks. Right. Yeah, he totally considered that. The sheepish smile on his face tells another story.

“Of course you don’t,” Seungmin sighs with a shake of his head and disappears to the kitchen.

“Mom, do we have some juice I can grab with me?” Seungmin yells. Hyunjin hears him opening and shutting doors to cupboards, and he internally cringes. Now he’s going to go ahead and steal juice from Seungmin’s house so he can drink some vodka? God, how is Haeyeon not sick of him?

“Yeah, there’s some strawberry lime juice, take that, honey.”

Hyunjin grimaces—not at the flavor, but at how awkward he feels. Haeyeon soon appears in the doorway to greet Hyunjin, right before Seungmin emerges from the kitchen. “I think I’ve got everything now,” Seungmin muses to himself.

“Stay safe kids, look after each other and don’t hesitate to call me if anything comes up, okay?”

“Yes, mom,” Seungmin sighs, like he’s heard the talk a million times already. Maybe he has. Hyunjin feels awkward as he stands there, hands jammed in the pockets of his skinny jeans.

“And Seungminnie, tell the others that they can sleep at our place if they need a place to stay.”

“Yes, mom,” Seungmin repeats, diligently.

“Okay, have fun then,” Haeyeon sends them off with a warm smile.

As soon as the door is closed, Hyunjin lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Holy shit, I still cannot believe your mom is supportive of us getting drunk.”

Seungmin laughs. “She doesn’t see a point in trying to stop it either. She rather does her best to keep us safe,” he shrugs, and there’s a pang in Hyunjin’s heart.

“Your mom is the sweetest,” Hyunjin breathes out in a gentle whisper.

It doesn’t come as a surprise how Seungmin practically reads his mind. “Hey,” he swings an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders and pulls him into a side-hug. “She cares about you too. I know it doesn’t make up for your own situation, but you should remember that my home’s your home too.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what he would do without Seungmin.

Jisung is already drunk when they meet up with the rest on a field. Typical.

“Heyyy, you made it!” Felix runs to wrap his arms around first Seungmin, then Hyunjin.

“Jinnie! Minnie! You want some?” Jisung waves his one arm around, holding a bottle of vodka in the other one. Hyunjin nods and smiles, hiding the slight trepidation. He hopes the drinks will calm his nerves.

It’s not like he’s forcing himself to drink. He’s been fascinated, more or less, by how it might feel. He’ll test the waters, try and get a buzz, and if he hates it, he’ll stop. It’s just a golden opportunity, and who is Hyunjin to say no to that?

Vodka paired with strawberry lime juice is not the worst thing in the world. It beats lukewarm coffee, definitely, and that’s good enough for Hyunjin.

There’s a speaker, Jeongin’s got aux, and his music taste is tolerable. Surprisingly good. Maybe it’s the drink Hyunjin sips on, but each song sounds better than the former.

It’s only Jeongin who isn’t drinking—or, well, he keeps stealing sips from other people’s bottles, but he didn’t come for the purpose of getting drunk, so, he isn’t drinking per se, case closed. Jisung and Felix start getting cuddly and they keep running around the field, Chan and Seungmin are just laughing, Minho looks like he’s going through an existential crisis, and Changbin looks eerily unaffected. They’re all drinking for the first time—except for Chan, who’s attended multiple of Jackson Wang’s parties in the past year.

As for Hyunjin, well… he feels giddy. Everything makes him laugh, and it’s kind of amazing.

As time passes, it becomes apparent how the field is a popular spot among the youth. Hyunjin supposes it makes sense, for it’s the closest field to town center. Slowly, more people begin filling the area, settling into their own little circles with their own speakers in the middle. It’s like an entire convention.

“Dude, is that Jiyoon-ssi?” Jeongin gasps as he grabs Hyunjin’s sleeve to gain his attention. Hyunjin directs his gaze to where Jeongin is staring wide-eyed, and yes, Jiyoon, in fact, is right in the middle of the field with her group of friends. She’s laughing, naturally gaining everyone’s attention.

“I guess. What about her?”

“I heard she broke up with her boyfriend. You should go talk to her!”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows knit together. Why does Jiyoon breaking up with her boyfriend imply Hyunjin should go talk to her?

“Why?”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow. “Because she had a crush on you all throughout the past year before he started dating that guy!”

Hyunjin blinks. He doesn’t understand where Jeongin is coming from. Why does everyone keep suggesting he pursue Jiyoon? It’s not the first time he’s hearing it, not even the tenth.

“I don’t know about that,” Hyunjin mutters. He’d much rather spend time with his friends, anyway.

“Dude…” Jeongin inspects him with a skeptical look in his eyes. “Whatever, but I’d make a move before someone else snatches her.” Jeongin leaves him with that, disappearing off to Minho’s direction. Hyunjin hears them strike up a conversation about the meaning of life and he laughs.

Hyunjin looks around. The field is swarmed with people his age, some a few years older, some a little younger. All from his school. His eye catches on Seungmin, and he makes his way to his best friend with a bounce in his steps.

“Minnie! How’re you doing?” Hyunjin smiles, wrapping an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.

“I’m good, having fun,” he replies with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Okay, good, me too, but I’m really craving some brownies.”

“Brownies?” Seungmin laughs, his smile growing and the skin around his eyes crinkling.

“Brownies! We should’ve baked brownies before coming here!”

Seungmin doesn’t get a chance to answer before Hyunjin spots Chan and Felix dancing and squeals. “I’m gonna go dance!”

So he joins them and he dances. Dances at a field in the woods, to some radio hits from the past year, and he’s happy. Suppose everything about this town isn’t so shitty after all.

That’s until he sees Jiyoon approaching with her best friend trailing behind her. She seems shy, her cheeks red from the alcohol, and she twirls a strand of her long, blonde hair around her finger.

“Hyunjin-ah?” she addresses him. Hyunjin takes a few steps closer to her.

“Hi, Jiyoon-ah!”

“Hey,” she giggles, her friend patting her shoulder and leaving the two alone.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought I’d come and say hi.”

“Oh, well, hi!”

“Hi,” Jiyoon giggles. Her crush is blatantly obvious, and Hyunjin doesn’t know how to feel about it. Sure, it’s nice to feel desired in a romantic way, and it’s all Hyunjin craves. So why does it make him feel so… off?

“Having fun?” Hyunjin asks.

“Yeah, yeah! Getting drunk is a good way to get over a breakup.”

“Oh, right, I heard. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” He’s genuinely disheartened for her. Jiyoon is nice, she’s an angel, really, and she deserves to be happy.

“Yeah, thanks, but it’s fine. You know, not everything lasts forever. Not everything’s meant to be.”

Hyunjin hums.

“You know, I was thinking…” Jiyoon starts, and she’s definitely fighting an internal battle with the way she’s fidgeting with the hem of her skirt and glancing down at her feet. “Would you wanna… do something together? Sometime?”

Oh god. Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“Oh! Yeah, sure, why not?” is what he settles in.

Jiyoon lights up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, sure!” He’s not entirely opposed to the idea, it’s just… He knows how Jiyoon feels about him, and when he’s not sure if he can reciprocate her feelings, he feels torn. But maybe Hyunjin is just slow to develop feelings.

Of course, that must be it!

“Okay, I’m glad! You have my number, right? If you could… text me? Sometime? No pressure, obviously.”

“Yeah, I have your number,” Hyunjin nods.

Jiyoon grants him a warm smile. “Okay. See you, Hyunjin-ah,” she wiggles her fingers, and then she’s skipping off back to her friends.

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to think, so he chugs down the rest of his drink from the bottle he’s mixed it in, and returns back to dancing.

It’s some hours later when the world starts spinning. Hyunjin really craves some brownies.

“Seungmin—” he walks up to him, “I don’t feel that good.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No, no,” Hyunjin shakes his head, “Just— I feel like shit. Like, emotionally.”

“Oh.” Seungmin’s eyes soften. “Do you wanna leave?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.” Hyunjin looks around. Everyone seems to be having a good time, so why isn’t he? He doesn’t know when the fun morphed into dread, doesn’t know when the bubble sizzling with warmth in his stomach turned into something that’s gnawing at him, something that makes him want to cry.

“Okay, how are you feeling, then?”

“Like— Like everything hates me.” Not every one, every thing. The grass underneath his feet. The moon and the stars. Even his plushies back at home.

Especially his plushies back at home.

“Alright then. Let’s go home,” Seungmin states calmly.

“But— What about everyone else? We can’t abandon them, what if something comes up and—”

“They’re looking fine to me. And look at Chan hyung. He’s almost sober. Jeongin is, too. We’re only a call away, and it’s a ten minute walk to my house. They’ll be fine,” Seungmin consoles him with a soft smile.

Hyunjin blinks, eyes glassy. “Okay.”

They bid their goodbyes, emphasize how everyone is welcome to come and stay at Seungmin’s if they don’t feel fine enough to go back home, and with that, they start making their journey through the darkness, hand in hand.

“Min, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Hyunjin confesses, his voice quiet. It’s a peaceful and warm night, and with every step he takes, Hyunjin feels less like the night sky is mocking him.

Seungmin meets his eyes and smiles. There’s something magical about his smile, Hyunjin thinks. It’s beautiful, it’s consoling, comforting. It feels like home. The feeling it evokes in Hyunjin is eerily resemblant of drinking hot chocolate.

Arriving at Seungmin’s, they’re met with Haeyeon at the door. She’s ensuring everything is fine, true to her sweet and caring nature.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Seungmin nods as he kicks off his shoes. “It was fun, there were a bunch of people from school actually.”

Hyunjin zones out of their conversation after offering Seungmin’s mother a greeting and a thank you for letting him stay there, focusing on the bubble that’s risen from his stomach to his chest. It’s warm again.

“Mom, would you mind if we made brownies?”

“Brownies?”

“Yeah, brownies. I’m really craving some.”

Hyunjin’s heart does a jump. It’s like he’s drinking hot chocolate again, snuggling up under a warm blanket after coming back inside from the cold. Maybe, on a spiritual level, he is.

“Alright, go ahead, then,” Haeyeon laughs, “Just try not to make too much noise, okay? I’ll go to bed already.”

“Of course mom. Good night.”

“Good night Mrs. Kim,” Hyunjin offers a genuine smile.

“Oh, Hyunjin-ah, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Haeyeon,” she chuckles. Hyunjin blushes, faintly, which has Seungmin giggling. “Alright, good night then.”

It’s hard to keep the volume down when they both still have alcohol in their system, when Seungmin is the funniest person Hyunjin has ever met, but they sure do their best.

The batter already tastes like heaven, and the corners of Hyunjin’s mouth are smeared with chocolate by the time they start pouring the batter into a baking pan. Seungmin giggles as he grabs a tissue and wipes the batter from his face.

Hyunjin feels warm. The oven is heating up the room, the alcohol is still in his system, and his body is burning. Only it doesn’t explain why the warmth is most prominent right under his ribs. Doesn’t explain the heat that spreads across his cheeks when Seungmin smiles at him, or offers him a piece of the finished brownies.

Suppose he doesn’t need an explanation. He’s young and he’s got his whole life to figure it out.

Hyunjin figures it out at a snail’s pace. It’s absurd, really.

The summer passes.

He does meet up with Jiyoon. They go out for ice cream, yet all Hyunjin can think about is Seungmin’s obscure favorite combination of pistachio ice cream with chocolate sauce. Jiyoon asks him if he has a crush on anyone, and Hyunjin smoothly proceeds to tell her he doesn’t really have time for crushes. It’s a good enough reason, and they end their hangout as friends.

“If you do ever get time for crushes, feel free to let me know,” Jiyoon tells him with a blush on her cheeks, and Hyunjin tells her he will.

Autumn arrives, the leaves turn brown, Chan leaves for college. They throw a party—in other words, they play games and binge movies—to bid him goodbye, and it’s weird knowing there will only be seven gathering in the front yard of their school, not eight.

Hyunjin cries the night before Chan leaves. He holds PuppyM and Jiniret close to his chest, ignores how his parents are fighting again, and he wishes he could stop time.

He’s always wanted to get away, leave everything behind, start a new life. A new life where he can learn as many girl group choreographies without his father commenting on it. A new life where he won’t feel obligated to his mother in any way. A new life where he’ll be ready to take on the world by himself. Grown-up and independent.

So why is he so heartbroken over his friend doing so? Leaving always meant getting separated from his friends, but it’s only now that Hyunjin truly realizes it. Maybe his one wish has always been running away, leaving his childhood behind, but he’s still just a kid. No kid should deal with change, no kid should worry about being alone forever.

What consoles him is the promise Seungmin made him at thirteen. They’ll escape together. They’ll see everything. Hyunjin wishes all his friends could be there with them, but that’s not how the world works.

He’ll deal with losing contact with most of his friends, he’s prepared now. When the time comes and they go their separate ways, Hyunjin will be ready, and he’ll cope, as long as the one he holds closest to his heart will be there by his side. And he will. Seungmin never breaks a promise. It’s the one thing that grants him solace, the one certainty in his life.

Hyunjin will cling onto it for dear life.

As the weather gets colder, their group of seven starts hanging out at this café right in the heart of their town. The owner, Sanghee, always welcomes them with open arms.

Exam season arrives, and their hangouts turn into attempts at study sessions. This, however, poses a problem. Seungmin; smart, diligent Seungmin, who actually cares about doing well in school, opts for staying in more often than not when the rest gather together at Sanghee’s coffee shop.

Hyunjin notices his absence alarmingly fast. It’s just not the same without him.

Naturally, he cares about all his friends equally. They all are a crucial part of the group, contributing to the dynamic in their own, characteristic way; Jisung, the jokester, the one who offers his support by cracking the most nonsensical joke one has ever heard; Changbin, another happy pill, who, however, gets serious at the blink of an eye once it’s needed; Minho, the disruptor of peace, causing mischief wherever he can; Felix, the sunshine, the one solving all the stupid fights the others get into every now and then; and Jeongin, who’s the glue, holding everyone together, always ensuring everyone feels included.

Yet it’s Seungmin who Hyunjin gravitates towards. His best friend, his other half, the left brain to his right.

Thus, he finds a middle ground. Sometimes he tags along with the group, sometimes he drags only Seungmin with him to the library to study.

Just like he does one freezing November afternoon.

“I made us hot chocolate,” Seungmin explains as he loads the contents of his backpack on top of the table they’re sitting at, offering Hyunjin a thermos flask.

Hot chocolate. The feeling it brings is far more familiar to Hyunjin than the taste is. A smile from Seungmin doesn’t come with the taste, only with the sensation.

“Thank you,” he accepts the gesture with a bright smile. “How are studies going?”

“Fucking awfully. I hate physics, fuck fucking physics! Wish I could just study biology and nothing but biology.”

“It’s only two and a half more years, Min, you’ve come so far already. It’ll go by in a flash, anyway.”

“I wish it does,” Seungmin mutters. He always gets crankier during exam season. It’s a little endearing, in a peculiar way.

Hyunjin chuckles. “Stop frowning, you always ace your exams,” he leans over the table to lightly tap on Seungmin’s forehead. “And even if you don’t, that’s fine too!”

Seungmin offers him a tight smile. “Thanks. Now shut up and let me focus.”

Hyunjin stifles a laugh, poking Seungmin’s forehead once more. And a third time for good measure. Once he gains a glare from the other side of the table, Hyunjin retreats and focuses on trying to study.

For the next hour, even Hyunjin manages to transmit some of the information from his textbook to his brain. It’s an accomplishment, really, a grave one for that matter.

And then he gets distracted. His thoughts wander as Seungmin stays focused on some formulas and calculations.

It’s getting bad at home. Not that it’s ever really good either, but his mother is even more tired than she usually is. She barely has energy to cook or do the dishes, and Hyunjin tries his best to help, he really does, but his mother always insists she do the housework.

It’s unfair and it’s fucked up. She’s the one bringing food on the table, she’s the one keeping their house together, all the while his father lazes and orders his wife and son around.

Daeun-ah, why haven’t you done the laundry yet?

Daeun-ah, why does your food always taste like shit?

Hyunjin-ah, don’t tell me you’re practicing another goddamn dance. You know that’s for the queers.

If it weren’t for his father, Hyunjin thinks he’d enjoy his quiet hometown substantially more.

Yet every day he comes back home, there he is. On good days, he stays silent, maybe asks Hyunjin to grab him another beer from the fridge. On bad days, he reduces Hyunjin to tears by explaining in excruciating detail why exactly Hyunjin won’t ever be the man he’s supposed to become.

“Hyune? Everything okay?” Seungmin brings him back onto the face of the earth.

Hyunjin blinks, shaking off the image of spit flying from his father’s mouth as he deems every interest Hyunjin has ever had too girly.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, zoned out,” he fakes a smile. Seungmin doesn’t press, like he never does. He offers one of those warm smiles of his, and Hyunjin takes a sip of his hot chocolate in the thermos flask. He feels it everywhere, all encompassing. Can hot chocolate fill someone’s every cell? Hyunjin thinks it can, but then again, he’s never been a fan of biology.

Hot chocolate is what fills up Hyunjin’s chest every day. He breathes it in, breathes it out, consumes it, gets drunk on it.

But there’s a point where the heat is too much, where cells become susceptible to damage, not enduring the high temperature, and they die.

The damage, in Hyunjin’s case, manifests in the form of an epiphany. Or, more or less of an epiphany.

It’s his sixteenth birthday when he’s baking a cake with Seungmin. Strawberry flavored, because Hyunjin loves everything strawberry flavored.

He’s scooping some of the filling with a spoon, because what would baking be without eating a quarter of the unfinished product? Hyunjin glances at Seungmin, who’s cutting up the cake into layers, tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth, eyes narrowed due to his focused state. He’s leaning over the counter, fingers of one hand placed over the cake and the other holding the knife. He’s meticulous, as he always is.

A smirk tugs at the corner of Hyunjin’s mouth. He brings the spoon close to his nose, sniffs it—just because why not—and takes a step closer to Seungmin so he can stick the spoon out into the small gap between Seungmin’s face and the cake.

“Taste!”

Seungmin flinches and draws back with a startled gasp, the knife almost slipping from his fingers. Hyunjin cackles at the shock Seungmin is staring at him with; mouth open, eyes wide, chest trembling as it rises and falls just for added effect.

“Hyunjin! What the fuck, I’m holding a knife here!” Seungmin exclaims, holding up the knife to emphasize his point. Hyunjin needs to hold his stomach with one hand with the way it’s hurting from laughing so much. The other hand is still stuck out with the spoon in his grasp.

“It’s just a spoon Min, no need to be afraid,” Hyunjin giggles, poking the spoon against Seungmin’s pursed lips.

Seungmin holds his deadpan for another ten seconds before he leans forward and catches the spoon with his mouth. Only he doesn’t pull back but bites down on it, so when Hyunjin tries extracting the spoon from his mouth, he ends up tugging Seungmin’s head forward.

“Oh, come on,” Hyunjin whines. He tugs, tugs and tugs again, to no avail. “Seungmin, you’ll break your teeth at this rate. I don’t think even getting braces will undo that damage.”

Seungmin does not budge, flashing a smile that has the crooked line of his front teeth showing instead before pressing his lips into a tight line again. So with a giggly exhale, Hyunjin steps forward and places his free hand over Seungmin’s jaw, fingers holding him firmly yet gently. He tries to force his mouth open, and nothing. Then, god knows how, but Hyunjin’s thumb is on his mouth, parting his lips by pulling the lower lip down.

And oh. Seungmin’s lips are soft. They’re warm and they’re pink and they’re pretty in a way that makes Hyunjin feel like he’s drowning in hot chocolate.

Can it be—

It’s not the feeling of hot chocolate the romcoms are always going on about, is it?

No, it can’t be, because that would mean—

Suddenly, the hot chocolate starts dropping in temperature. It goes from lukewarm to freezing in the span of a second, and it makes Hyunjin shiver, like he’s stuck in an avalanche.

Showing this would be a colossal mistake, so Hyunjin masks it by pushing any warm beverages out of his mind. It’s only a drink, for crying out loud.

Except maybe the hot chocolate has been Seungmin all along; Seungmin making his chest warm; Seungmin making him feel safe and comfortable; Seungmin bringing him the inexplicably cozy sensation. It’s an effect none of his other friends have on Hyunjin, and he feels his stomach turning.

Goddammit.

Seungmin eventually opens his mouth and lets the spoon go before Hyunjin can retract his hand. He laughs, takes the spoon from Hyunjin’s hand, scoops some of the filling, feeds it to Hyunjin in turn.

Hyunjin wishes the taste of the filling could replace the sensation of hot chocolate.

By the time summer comes along again, Hyunjin has lost count of the times he’s cried himself to sleep.

He’s not sure which is worse; having a crush on his best friend, or having a crush on a boy.

He fights it, tries to push it away. Dismissing his father’s comments about his growing interest in dance, his infatuation with romantic movies and his sensitive nature is easy in comparison to ignoring how Hyunjin knows he’ll react when he learns that his son isn’t straight.

Hyunjin does research, reads conversations on the internet where people talk about their sexualities. How they figured it out, how it is for them. He reads about how sexuality is a spectrum. Maybe he falls somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Maybe he can ignore the existence of the spectrum and pretend he’s normal.

He prays that’s the case.

If his attraction towards boys doesn’t exclude an attraction towards girls, he can ignore being attracted to boys in the first place. He can find someone. Get over his stupid teenage crush, have a chance at happiness. 

Deep down, he knows it isn’t wrong. No one can help who they fall for regardless of gender, yet he feels utterly disgusting.

It’s difficult to suppress his feelings, but Hyunjin doesn’t have a choice.

It’s that August when he takes a chance.

He calls Jiyoon.

“Hyunjin-ah! Hi, what’s up?” she chirps from the other end of the line, picking up after three rings. Objectively, it’s cute how excited she sounds, and thus, Hyunjin finds her cute too.

“Hey, Jiyoon, I was thinking— uh, if you’re free, if you’re… available,” Hyunjin clears his throat, cringing at himself, “Maybe you could… go out with me?”

The line goes silent for a beat. Hyunjin can barely hold the phone against his ear with his clammy hand.

“Sure, that sounds lovely!”

Hyunjin releases a breath of relief. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, of course! When and where are we going?”

They make plans to go bowling, because, for some odd reason, their town has a bowling alley. Why is there a bowling alley but not a movie theater? Or a proper restaurant? Hyunjin doesn’t know.

He doesn’t have time to panic over the date, for he’s busy helping Minho pack his stuff. For the entire beginning of August, they’ve been gathering at his house, doing more laughing than packing, all avoiding the reality of Minho leaving by the end of the month.

And, really, the only person Hyunjin feels like panicking to is Seungmin, and that’s not going to happen. Not when Seungmin is the cause for at least half his panicking. Not when it’s essentially Seungmin to drive Hyunjin to this point. It’s not his fault, and neither is it Hyunjin’s—Hyunjin knows that.

He only prays that when he meets Jiyoon he’ll feel even a portion of the way he feels when he’s with Seungmin, when he’s overdosing on hot chocolate. If the feeling was there—if even a ghost of it was there, a single miniature droplet of hot chocolate—Hyunjin would have hope for everything working out in the end.

He’ll have to see. He’ll have to write his wish onto a piece of paper he tears from a notebook and place it under his pillow. Hyunjin is not religious, but he’ll pray and he’ll pray and he’ll shed tears, crying out for some divine being he doesn’t even believe exists. If he learns there’s a single normal cell in him, he has no doubt he’ll start believing.

It’s all he wants to be. Normal.

He meets Jiyoon outside of the bowling alley. He’s donned a pair of slacks and a button up—and he doesn’t even know why. Maybe so as to dress appropriately for what this date may or may not entail. Whether he gets himself a girlfriend or winds up with his world shattered into pieces, at least he’ll be dressed appropriately.

It’s nicer to cry looking nice anyway. Adds a layer of theatricality, Hyunjin supposes.

Jiyoon looks nice, like she always does. The sky is dark and promising of a rainstorm, so it’s a good thing they’ll be indoors.

Hyunjin pays, just like he knows is appropriate for him to do.

He has fun with her, he really does. He inspects Jiyoon’s smile, examines the way her eyes sparkle and her blonde hair all but billows as she leaps forward before releasing the ball, fixates on the jingle of her high-pitched and sweet laughter when the ball knocks down all the pins in a strike.

She’s enthusiastic, she’s sweet and she’s gentle and she’s caring. She gives Hyunjin an animated high-five when he scores his first strike. She’s beautiful, she’s fun to be around—so why does Hyunjin keep searching for glimpses of Seungmin everywhere he looks?

He searches for Seungmin’s smile, the crooked row of his teeth. He searches for Seungmin’s loud and slightly obnoxious laughter that always makes him smile. He searches for brown hair flopping over puppy eyes.

What he finds is pain.

What he finds is more pieces to the puzzle he desperately wants to keep unfinished.

He needs the puzzle to stay unfinished, regardless of him knowing what the picture it’ll depict looks like.

Their reserved time runs out, and there’s a lump in Hyunjin’s throat. When they exit the building, it’s pouring rain, and they stay under the awning by the front doors.

“Do you have an umbrella?” Hyunjin asks, courteous. Jiyoon shakes her head, sheepish, and Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate to hand her his.

“I had fun,” Jiyoon smiles after thanking him. Hyunjin’s palms are sweaty. He could really use some hot chocolate right now.

“Yeah, me too, this was nice.” He’s not lying, per se. Half a truth is not a lie.

“Hyunjin—” Jiyoon starts. She’s fidgety, and Hyunjin has an inkling of what’s coming. They both have referred to their hangout as a date, so her next words don’t come as a surprise.

She asks if they can kiss.

Hyunjin hesitates, but he agrees, though he knows he shouldn’t. He still has a hint of hope left, so is it that wrong to see if it’s good after all?

It is not good.

If anything, it’s the last nail to the coffin.

When Hyunjin leans forward, closes the distance, he’s far too hasty, crashing his lips against Jiyoon’s, teeth clashing with the inside of his lips. It’s fast and it’s rushed, and Hyunjin’s blood runs cold. Nothing about the kiss is good, not for Hyunjin, and he guesses nothing about it is good for Jiyoon either.

He pulls away, willing to run away as fast as he can.

“I’ll text you,” he blurts out, and then he’s fleeing from her.

He’s not sure if his cheeks are wet with the drops of rain or tears. Maybe both.

Hazy, he runs where he knows he shouldn’t. He runs to Seungmin’s.

The journey goes by in a blur. There’s not a normal bone in Hyunjin’s body. He doesn’t know who to turn to, he can’t even confide in Seungmin, not properly, but he needs someone. He craves comfort, he craves the company of his person.

His knocking on Seungmin’s door is frantic, and when Haeyeon comes to answer, she can sense Hyunjin’s turmoil without a doubt. He’s soaked and his eyes are red and puffy.

“Hyunjin? Is everything okay?”

Hyunjin blinks. Sniffles. “Is Seungmin here?”

She offers him a compassionate smile. “The treehouse.”

“Okay, thank you.”

He sprints to the backyard and climbs the ladder to the deck of the treehouse. He knocks.

It takes a while for Seungmin to answer. He’s got his earphones hanging from his neck.

“Hyune? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer. Just throws his arms around Seungmin and buries his face in the crook of his neck, relaxing as he leans against him.

“What happened?” Seungmin whispers, soft and consoling, rubbing a hand up and down Hyunjin’s back.

Seungmin knows about his date, so Hyunjin coming running straight into his arms must be alarming.

“It was fun, but— We kissed and— and it was horrible,” Hyunjin cries out, nuzzling his face even closer against Seungmin’s neck. He’s taller than Seungmin now, so he’s slightly slouched over as his head rests on Seungmin’s shoulder.

“Why was it horrible?”

“Because I— I— I rushed it and I ruined my first kiss and—”

And he doesn’t even like girls.

It’s enough to know he’s everything he feared he’d be, but the feeling of having used Jiyoon in the process of figuring it out is the cherry on top of the cake. Hyunjin feels disgusting, in and out.

“Okay, okay… Let’s sit down.”

Hyunjin nods against his shoulder and extracts himself from around Seungmin. They settle on the floor, leaning against a wall next to each other. Hyunjin curls up into a ball and hugs his knees tight.

“So… Wanna talk more about it?”

Hyunjin doesn’t need to be asked twice. He can’t get to the root of it, so he’ll settle for the aspect he can pour his heart out about.

“A first kiss is supposed to be magical, Minnie, it’s not supposed to make you feel uncomfortable or tense, I— I wanted it to be better! I mean of course it can’t be perfect because nothing is ever perfect but…” he trails off, falling quiet. “I don’t think I even like her.”

Seungmin doesn’t ask him why he kissed someone he doesn’t like. Hyunjin is grateful. He couldn’t tell him if he wanted to.

“It’s just— When I imagined getting my first kiss, it was nothing like that. I think even she could feel the outline of my teeth through both of our lips! I just wish it could’ve been more comfortable, with someone I feel completely safe around… It’s just— ugh, now I’ll think about how horrible my first kiss was for the rest of my life.”

He doesn’t look at Seungmin, only focuses on the hold he takes of his hand. It’s grounding, comforting, like getting his hands on a warm cup of hot chocolate.

When Seungmin speaks, his voice is stable, soothing. A lifeline. “It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to think about it as your first kiss.”

“But—” Hyunjin exclaims with furrowed brows, “But it is my first kiss!” He doesn’t understand.

“No one says you can’t have a do-over.”

He meets Seungmin’s eyes at that. He’s no longer crying, just feeling a little bit like shit. “What do you mean a do-over?”

“There’s no rule that says you actually have to consider your very first kiss as your first kiss. If you want, you can just ignore it, call it a trial run.”

Hyunjin blinks. “But— I can’t just wait until I fall in love, that might take forever. It’s too late to redo a first kiss if I wait for years.”

Seungmin shifts in place beside him. “Okay, well— Do you think you have to be in love for it, then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Or— no, I don’t think so. Guess I’d just want someone I feel safe with. Someone I can be myself around. So even if my teeth bump into the inside of my lips I could laugh, not cry over it,” Hyunjin explains, slightly choking his words out and huffing a dry laugh.

“Then…” Seungmin starts, his index finger tenderly tapping against the back of Hyunjin’s hand. His eyes are soft. “How’d you feel about a do-over?”

It takes a moment before it clicks for Hyunjin. Seungmin’s voice, quiet and sincere. His hold on Hyunjin’s hand. The look in his slightly widened, asking eyes. When Hyunjin registers that his eyes truly are asking, it clicks into place what exactly he is asking about.

A do-over. Right here, right now.

Hyunjin’s heart jumps so high he can almost feel it at the back of his throat.

“Like—” he blinks, voice wavering ever so slightly, “Right now? With—”

“If you want to,” Seungmin hurries to clarify with a light shrug of his shoulders. “I know it wouldn’t exactly be something where sparks fly,” he chuckles. Hyunjin isn’t sure if he’s imagining things or does Seungmin’s voice sound almost nervous. “But if you’d rather have a more comfortable experience— and if you were be comfortable with that in the first place—”

Hyunjin doesn’t think, he doesn’t want to think, so he cuts Seungmin off. “Okay,” it comes out high-pitched in an inhale. All he knows is that Seungmin is offering to kiss him, and he’s too greedy for his own good to turn down such a tempting offer.

“Okay?”

Hyunjin nods, slightly too fervently. “Okay.”

A corner of Seungmin’s mouth twitches upwards. It’s a movement that’s barely even there, but Hyunjin notices, so he knows he doesn’t have to bite it back when he feels a tug at his lips, too.

“Wait, but—” Hyunjin backtracks before he can get ahead of himself. “I don’t want to steal your first kiss.”

Seungmin only chuckles. “It’s not that big of a deal to me,” he shrugs yet again, “Besides, like you said; it’s better to kiss someone you’re comfortable with. I’d rather take this than some nerve-wracking situation.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin tries to say, but it’s more of a broken whisper than an audible word.

“Okay,” Seungmin echoes one last time. Then his hand is rising towards the line of Hyunjin’s jaw, slow and hesitant, almost twitching, and Hyunjin can barely breathe. “So, uh, do I— do I just—” Seungmin stammers.

“Yeah, you just…” Hyunjin tries to search for words, falling quiet when he feels cold fingers cradle his jaw. “Yeah.”

There’s no need for more words to be said.

It’s a tantalizing pace at which they’re closing the distance. Hyunjin doesn’t know who’s leaning in, or if either of them is, because it’s taking forever. One of his hands finds purchase on Seungmin’s shoulder, and his eyes flutter shut when Seungmin’s lips are finally no more than a breath’s distance away from his.

The anticipation grows, coiling tighter in Hyunjin’s abdomen, and when their lips make contact, everything fades away. Everything save for Seungmin. Seungmin’s fingers holding his jaw. Seungmin’s lips pressing against his in a soft, shy peck. Seungmin’s nose, brushing against his.

Fuck magical, because it feels surreal.

Hyunjin knows time can’t slow down, yet somehow, it seems to do just that. For a moment, for the briefest, most fleeting second, it’s only Hyunjin and it’s only Seungmin.

He knows not to be too hasty this time. The touch of their lips is soft, gentle, and over far too soon. Hyunjin wants more. He’s a greedy teenager who thinks with his heart, not his brain.

“Better?” Seungmin whispers as they break apart, the hand not moving from Hyunjin’s jaw, as though it’s resting against his skin on instinct.

“Better,” Hyunjin nods, his voice sounding almost breathless in his own ears. He knows he should create distance, pull away, but Seungmin is right there and Hyunjin has never felt more like drifting on clouds than he does now and—

The butterflies in his stomach get the best of him. “You know, now that we’re here, just for like, the sake of practice— can we do that again?” he all but vomits out his words.

Seungmin blinks, and Hyunjin thinks he’s fucked it up. There’s a beat of silence where Hyunjin fears for the worst, fears that he lost his most cherished friend with a single sentence—

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Seungmin nods, wetting his parted lips. “Okay.”

Then they’re kissing again. It’s not just another peck; Hyunjin leans in with a slightly opened mouth to capture Seungmin’s lower lip between his own. It’s deeper, better— though they can’t quite match each other’s rhythm.

Hyunjin cannot get carried away, though. He has different motives here, he’s not kissing Seungmin for the sake of an experience, he’s kissing Seungmin because there’s nothing he’s ever wanted to do more in his life.

Thus, he pulls away—only for Seungmin to chase after him. His hand travels down from Hyunjin’s jaw to the nape of his neck, and Hyunjin’s head tilts slightly as their lips meet for the third time. It’s even deeper, somehow more earnest. It gets infinitely better with each second of Seungmin’s lips moving against Hyunjin’s in what feels almost like a deliberate rhythm.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, it’s innocent.

Until Hyunjin realizes it’s disastrous.

Fuck. He can’t be doing this, he can’t be kissing Seungmin when it’s quite likely he’s colossally in love with him, not when he’s gay and Seungmin knows none of that.

Hyunjin freezes, not daring to move, his eyes snapping open. He has a split second before Seungmin notices him tensing up and pulls away, eyes going wide and brows knitting together in concern. He’s absolutely devastating like that.

Out of options, there’s only one way out for Hyunjin.

“I have to go,” he blurts out, averting his eyes and shooting up to his feet. His chest is heaving as soon as he makes it down to the ground after zooming down the ladder. He runs, runs as fast as his legs carry him, the drops of rain against his face and his body sharp and freezing.

It takes Hyunjin some ten seconds to sprint inside his home, fly up the stairs and lock himself up in his room where he falls onto his bed with a choked sob.

He aches and he yearns. He wants to kiss Seungmin again for the rest of his life, and it’s breaking his heart. He wants Seungmin to kiss him out of desire, not consolation. He doesn’t want a stupid do-over to make up for Hyunjin’s stupid goddamn decision to kiss someone he knew he didn’t want to kiss in the first place.

If only his father could see him now. If only he could hear his thoughts right now.

Hyunjin feels like his world has gone inside out. It’s distorted. Everything he’s ever known is distorted. He’s not who he thought he was, and it’s now that it crashes over him, electrocutes him like lightning strikes a tree.

It’s loss of innocence, it’s corruption of something like hot chocolate that once used to be sweet, now tainted with a bitter taste.

Hyunjin is not who he wants to be, and he wants to run away. Leave everything behind, escape. But it’s not only his despicable fucking hometown that he wants to flee from, it’s himself he wants to abandon.

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s instantly met with overwhelming dread. Guess yesterday wasn’t just a nightmare after all. Suppose he still is what he doesn’t want to be.

Hyunjin drags himself out of bed. He knows he needs to talk to Seungmin—otherwise he might just lose him entirely.

A scenario after scenario runs through his head as he crafts up something quick for breakfast. He’s not hungry, but he eats anyway. His mother seems worried. Maybe he’s looking as bad as he’s feeling.

Hyunjin brushes her off when she asks him if everything is okay. If she heard his cries he doesn’t know, but Daeun has never been one to press with her questions, so she leaves Hyunjin be. It doesn’t even matter if she did hear.

A sense of hollowness engulfs Hyunjin. He can barely look at himself in the mirror as he brushes his teeth.

Will Seungmin be able to look at him anymore? Hyunjin doesn’t know what he’ll do if Seungmin finds him as repulsive as he finds himself, but he needs to be honest. There’s no other explanation for his abrupt exit last night, and though Hyunjin knows it will be like plunging a knife into his heart and twisting it to tell Seungmin who he really is, he’ll cope, because Seungmin is too important for him to let his shame tear them apart.

It’s a grating two hours he waits in his room, fidgeting around, taking turns in hugging his plushies tight and lying limp on the floor. Not his bed, the floor. Floor is for big issues, and this is the biggest of Hyunjin’s life.

Then he finds himself behind Seungmin’s door, a knot twisting and turning deep in his stomach, eyes flickering all around unfocused, having difficulty breathing. Like he needs to command his lungs to fill and deflate in order to keep himself from passing out.

The door opens, revealing a wide-eyed Seungmin.

Hyunjin’s heart sinks. “Is your mom home?” is the first thing he asks.

“No, she’s at work.”

“Can I come in?”

Seungmin nods, only a faint movement of his head, and Hyunjin steps inside, wiping his clammy hands on his sweatpants.

A silence falls over them, pressing and uncomfortable. It’s like Hyunjin’s ribs are closing in on his lungs, trapping them inside. He can’t breathe.

As he gathers up the courage to speak, his gaze is directed at his feet, flicking up at Seungmin every now and then, always falling back down when Seungmin’s eyes meet his.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“I’m sorry I—”

Their eyes lock as they speak up at the same time, a light huff of laughter escaping both of them.

“Can I go first?” Hyunjin speaks, feeling miniscule, but gaining an ounce of strength from the faint smile flashing on Seungmin’s face.

“Yeah, okay.”

Hyunjin clears his throat and hugs himself with his left arm, fingers curling tightly around his right upper arm. His eyes dart to his feet one last time.

“I shouldn’t have just… run away like that. I panicked, I— I…” Inhale. Hyunjin needs all the oxygen he can get. “It’s stupid that I panicked and it’s not your fault and I’m sorry I escaped like that,” he speeds through his words, willing his eyes not to dart to Seungmin’s lips.

“It’s okay, I mean— I get it; first you share a terrible kiss with someone and then I— I make you do that again—”

Hyunjin cuts him off instantly. “No, what— you didn’t make me do anything, Min, what are you even saying?”

Seungmin shrugs, head hanging low, hands jammed into the pockets of his sweats. He keeps shifting his weight from one leg to another, swaying from side to side. “You were vulnerable. I just thought— that maybe getting another shot at a more… comfortable setting might help— But obviously you were uncomfortable, so—”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” Hyunjin interrupts in an exclaim that comes out almost as a squeak. “I… I wasn’t uncomfortable,” he repeats, voice lowering in volume.

“Then why did you..?”

“Because I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Because I started feeling like I was taking advantage of you,” his confession comes out choked, a slight tremor in his voice.

“Why?”

Hyunjin closes his eyes and braces himself for the impact. It’s like he’s watching an asteroid on the course to crash into earth, and all he can do is hold his breath.

“Because I’m gay.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn’t relieve the burn. For a beat, he waits for a reaction, waits for Seungmin to throw him out of the house and his life.

What he gets instead, are arms wrapping around him and pulling him close. “Oh, Jinnie…”

It takes a beat for Hyunjin to relax and melt into the hug. “So you don’t… I don’t know, hate me?”

“Why would I hate you?”

“I don’t know, I thought you’d feel… used or something— It’s just that it felt so different kissing you because you’re not a girl and I freaked out and— and—”

And he’s pretty certain he’s falling in love with Seungmin. But that’s a battle for another day. Hyunjin is slaying his dragons one at a time.

“Well, I don’t feel that way. This doesn’t change anything, okay? You’re still my best friend and you’ll always be.”

As he nods his head, a stray tear drops from the corner of Hyunjin’s eye, landing on Seungmin’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he mutters. He feels warm again.

Maybe Hyunjin still has a long way to go in regards to accepting himself, but as long as he still has Seungmin, he thinks he’ll be fine. And as long as he can keep his feelings hidden, everything will be okay.

He’s perfectly content with longing for reciprocation from afar, at a safe, platonic distance. He’ll get over Seungmin eventually, anyway.

Because he’s a teenager, and teenagers have stupid, short-lived crushes all the time. Hyunjin is no different.

The next day entails the slaying of another dragon.

Hyunjin promised he’d text Jiyoon, so that’s what he does.

He’s got two options; lie or be honest. One is tempting, the other is the right thing to do.

Hyunjin decides to do the right thing.

It’s surprisingly easy to come up with what to type out into words. Hyunjin explains how he’s been lost, figuring himself out, and because he doesn’t want to keep Jiyoon waiting for something he can never give her, he tells her the truth—the truth about being gay, not about his feelings for Seungmin. It’s terrifying, his fingers are trembling as they hover over the screen and pick out letters, but he manages.

It takes Jiyoon ten minutes to reply. Her response lifts a significant weight from Hyunjin’s heart.

She’s surprised, but she understands. She tells him she can properly move on now, and Hyunjin is grateful. He’s relieved, and he’s going to be fine.

Sure, he dreads what his parents will say when they find out, and he’s not sure how to wean himself off hot chocolate, but those are worries for another day.

Maybe they will slap him in the face next week, maybe two years from now.

But for the time being, Hyunjin is still fine.

Chapter Text

It’s a love-hate relationship Hyunjin has with his job. He’s long ago grown tired of the old, stinky men who come and get trashed four times a week and flirt with him. He’s tired of smelling like liquor and vomit when he gets off because he always ends up having to clean up floors, sometimes bathrooms.

Then again, it’s nice that going to work gives him a change of scenery. The bar is located in another town, just outside his, and it’s refreshing. He gets to sleep in late in the mornings, he sees new people at work. It could be worse.

It’s a warm spring night when the bar is unusually packed. Oftentimes it’s filled with the regular, thirty-something people who love singing karaoke more than they’re keen on dancing. But tonight there’s an artist throwing a gig, and some younger locals from the closest towns have gathered to spend their evening. Needless to say, Hyunjin is drowning in work.

He doesn’t mind, it’s nice when he’s kept busy. The music the artist is playing makes him want to dance, and it’s enough to keep him satiated to bob his head up and down with the rhythm.

Once the set is over, the majority of people start ushering themselves out. It’s still some hours away from last call, but Hyunjin gets a breather.

That’s when a man his age sitting by the counter addresses him.

“Busy night?”

Hyunjin chuckles. “You could say that.”

“I don’t know how you bunch put up with this shit,” the man laughs.

“Put up with this shit?”

“Watching people get wasted every night. I could never.”

“Yet here you are; at a bar.”

“Only ‘cause my friend dragged me with her.”

Hyunjin hums. “Ah, I see, you’re one of those people.”

“Yep, unfortunately,” the man laughs, his elbows propped up on the counter. “I’m Kyunghan.”

It’s a rare experience to have someone seemingly sober talk to him while he’s clocked in. Hyunjin gladly takes the bait to strike up a conversation.

“Hyunjin.”

“So, Hyunjin-ssi—tell me something about yourself.”

He laughs. “Are you trying to get me to offer you a drink, or something?”

“No,” Kyunghan shakes his head, “Just making conversation.”

Hyunjin narrows his eyes, skeptical yet good-natured. “Are you sure you aren’t just humoring me until you feel like I’m obliged to listen to your sorrows? Cause there’s no need, vent all you want. It’s kind of in the job description to be a part-time therapist.”

“Nah, can’t a man just talk to a pretty guy?”

There it is. Hyunjin offers him a tight-lipped smile. “Look, just so you know; I’m emotionally very unavailable.”

“Huh, and why’s that?”

Hyunjin chuckles, starting to pour a gin tonic for a middle-aged guy who comes up to order one. “You want the long or the short version?”

“Short first. I wanna make my own guesses before getting the details.”

It’s eerily comforting to chat with someone merely for the sake of making conversation. Hyunjin hums and offers the finished drink to the middle-aged man before focusing back on Kyunghan again. “I’ve been in love with my former best friend for almost seven years. He lives seven thousand miles away.”

“Ah, that sucks.”

Hyunjin snorts. “You could say that.”

“Let me guess; he’s straight to top it off?”

“Actually, no.”

“Does he know you’re in love with him?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I blame adolescence and insecurities.”

“Got it,” Kyunghan nods, his smile apologetic. “I’ll tell you what, Hyunjin-ssi,” he shifts in his seat, “I believe in things like fate. What about you?”

Hyunjin gives a quick raise of his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “I want to.”

“Then you should believe that your story isn’t over yet.”

Hyunjin can’t refrain from bursting out laughing. “I used to. Maybe a part of me always will, but— I don’t know about that anymore.”

“Alright, well, suit yourself. But, hey, you wanna give me a recounting of all the events leading you here—in excruciating detail?”

“We’d be here all night,” Hyunjin huffs a laugh with one eyebrow raised.

Kyunghan only shrugs. “I’ll be here all night anyway—my friend won’t leave until she gets kicked out, so, I’d much rather listen to a coherent monologue than observe people throwing up stomach acid.”

What the hell, sure.

So Hyunjin takes a trip down memory lane.

When he gets home at 5:30 in the morning, he scrolls through his camera roll and Seungmin’s Instagram account for the first time in months. There’s a new post from a month ago. Seungmin taking a selfie with the Hollywood Sign, the caption reading I became a movie star with three exclamation marks.

He only smiles, bittersweet. At least one of them got to fulfill his dreams.

Pushing off the inevitable is like playing a losing game against time. Hyunjin learns it the hard way at sixteen.

He’s watching a boys’ love series from an internet site he found after an intense session of digging to find good pirating sites. Earphones plugged in, screen brightness as low as it gets, he goes to the kitchen to make himself a snack when he makes the fatal mistake of leaving his phone on the counter, screen up.

If only he didn’t have the earphones in his ears. If only he had paused the fucking episode. If only…

Maybe then Hyunjin would have heard his father walk into the kitchen to discard an empty bottle. Maybe he would have been able to pause the episode before his father noticed what he’s watching. Maybe his phone screen wouldn’t reveal to his father who exactly Hyunjin is.

Life hardly ever works in Hyunjin’s favor.

It happens too quickly. One second Hyunjin is taking out ingredients without a care in the world, the next he fears his life is over.

“What the hell is this?” his father snarls with his volume low. Hyunjin’s stomach flips. Fuck.

He hastily shoots for his phone, but can’t even take one step before his father snatches it. Hyunjin’s vision fades out, his head is heavy and cold, he might faint soon. There’s something in his stomach, something twisting and turning, and he only sees the outlines of the furrow in his father’s brow as he holds the phone and stares at it.

Hyunjin startles when his eyes snap up at him. “I’m asking you a goddamn question here!”

There’s no doubt he knows exactly what it is.

“I– I–”

“Y’know what,” he starts, pulling Hyunjin’s earphones out of his ears and throwing the phone across the room, making Hyunjin flinch and Daeun emerge from the living room. ”I don’t wanna hear a word about that, I’ve seen enough. Care to explain yourself?”

Hyunjin’s eyes flicker between his parents, jaw on the verge of quivering, and he knows there’s no way he’ll crawl his way out of this one. His mother seems worried, a furrow in her brows.

All it’s taken for his life to turn upside down is a stupid mistake and a couple pathetic seconds.

Maybe he’s simply having a nightmare.

“I— It’s just a stupid show,” he chokes out, but the excuse won’t work and he knows it. Not when he’s an inch away from crying, not when he refuses to meet his father’s look, not when his clammy hands are trembling and his eyes are pooling with tears.

Hyunjin has always known, more or less, that his father is homophobic. It’s been clear as day with the comments he makes about Hyunjin’s girly interests, in the way he’s always preached about how Hyunjin needs to become a real man, but it’s never hurt as much as it does now that he starts throwing insults and slurs around.

Before Hyunjin knows it, he’s crying. He’s blocking everything out, tears escaping his eyes as he splutters out how sorry he is about being into boys. The world is a blur, he feels weightless and heavy all at once.

It’s just a nightmare. This is not happening. Hyunjin isn’t here.

“I just gotta applaud you at this point, Daeun-ah,” his father laughs, mocking and vile. Hyunjin wants to disappear.

He’s not here, he’s not here, he’s not here.

It doesn’t help that his mother just stands there without saying a word, because frozen with fear, Hyunjin can’t even look at her. He doesn’t want to see the disgust on her face too. He hugs his body tight, wishing he were clinging onto his stuffed animals instead.

Can Hyunjin get one more day to prepare? One more second of peace?

“Not only is the son you just had to keep a worthless slob but not even a proper man to begin with! Tell, me, Daeun, how does it feel knowing you wasted your entire life for a fucking fa—”

“Get the hell out of here.”

Hyunjin’s heart jumps all the way into his throat. He feels nauseous when he looks up at his mother, sees her face red and eyes almost narrowed through his blurry vision. She’s fuming. Hyunjin has never seen her like that. He curls up into a ball onto the floor as his father’s focus shifts onto his mother.

Is he here? Is this happening?

“What did you just say to me?”

“I said get the hell out of my house. You don’t get to talk about my son like that.” Her voice is trembling yet not weak.

”Your house?”

”My goddamn house! It’s me who gets the bills paid, it’s me who cooks and cleans, and I’m done with you. Get out, right now, and don’t even dare to show your face here again.”

Hyunjin blocks the rest out. Close to hyperventilating, he covers his ears, buries his head in his knees.

He wants to go home.

He can’t tell how many minutes have passed when he feels his mother sit down next to him and wrap an arm around him. “I’m so sorry, Hyune-yah… I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin falls into her embrace, the tears falling down freely. “No, I’m sorry, mom— I’m sorry,” he sobs. The walls around him are shaking, crumbling down. He’s the reason why everything is changing. If only he had been normal, maybe—

“No, don’t be,” her voice is quiet, soothing in a way it’s never been before. “I love you,” she continues. Hyunjin has never heard her say it before. “You’re my son and nothing changes that. Your father doesn’t change that, don’t think about his words, okay? We’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

Maybe Daeun is convincing herself just as much as she’s convincing Hyunjin.

She doesn’t hate him. His father is gone, Hyunjin doesn’t know if he’ll ever see him again, and he doesn’t care. What matters is that he’s still fine. And his mother loves him.

It’s hard to breathe, but for the first time in his life, Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate to lean on his mother.

He’s still hurting, but maybe, one day, it’ll get easier to deal with.

Settling into a new normal where his father is no longer a part of his life and where he can mostly be himself at home comes surprisingly easy for Hyunjin.

He recognizes the absence. Feels it in the way he finds himself still walking on thin ice, only to find no one seeking for mistakes in the way he’s breathing.

Coming home from school doesn’t make his stomach turn the way it’s been turning for years anymore. It’s easier to start coming to terms with who he is when he no longer needs to hide a significant part of himself.

The absence of a father isn’t that drastic of a change. Hyunjin doesn’t feel hurt over it; if anything, he’s relieved. No longer having an angry man in the house makes being there feel a lot less draining.

The same doesn’t seem to apply to his mother, though, and it makes Hyunjin resent himself. For the way he is, for feeling an ounce of contentment in his father being gone.

Daeun hasn’t loved Hyunjin’s father in years and Hyunjin knows it, but it’s not shocking how such a change affects her. She appears even more stressed. Though she’s been doing it for years, taking care of the house and Hyunjin all by herself is distinctively taking a toll on her.

Hyunjin is torn. He wants to bask in the solace of feeling so free, but can’t help but blame himself.

If he was like everyone else, if he was different, easier to deal with, maybe his parents could have worked it out.

Sometimes he thinks his mother would be better off never having kept him.

It’s a gnawing thought that Hyunjin likes to keep buried somewhere deep down.

He doesn’t voice his thoughts, not to anyone. Not even Seungmin.

All he tells him is a condensed version of the events, and brushes off any further questions Seungmin asks.

Once the weather gets colder and rain clouds hover over the sky more often than not, Hyunjin and his friends start spending more time at Sanghee’s coffee shop. Studying, gossiping, planning their future.

“So you applied for the programme in music?” Felix asks Changbin with his eyes glowing.

“Yeah and I’m so fucking nervous about that.”

“That’s like, inspiring, dude,” Jisung nods his head, eager.

It is inspiring. Hyunjin feels thrilled. It gives him hope that his friends are chasing their dreams; surely he can do it too, even if it seems a little terrifying.

Only his one singular dream is traveling the world, and that’s it. Getting a degree? Stalling for another four years before he can leave everything behind and take Seungmin with him to see the world? It’s an abominable thought.

The only positive he sees in the inevitable is having more time to get over his crush. Spending his young adulthood accompanied by his straight best friend he’s in love with would be disastrous, to say the least, so Hyunjin supposes it’s for the greater good to have some extra years to forget about the puppy love he craves to experience.

“I just hope I’m not throwing my life away, chasing a dream that’s so unlikely to be achieved.”

“Of course you’re not throwing your life away!” Felix squeaks from Changbin’s left, grabbing his arm and squeezing it as a sign of reassurance.

“No, you should always chase your dreams,” Hyunjin insists with firm nods.

Changbin smiles. “Thanks guys, that means a lot.”

“Oh stop being so sappy,” Seungmin scoffs in good nature.

Changbin’s smile falls as his face morphs into a deadpan expression. “I’m not sappy!”

Everyone cracks up.

The dust has fallen at home. Daeun has settled, and Hyunjin wants to think she’s doing better than ever.

She pays more attention to Hyunjin. Hyunjin thinks she’s making up for the lack of care, and he’s drowning in guilt.

Hyunjin understands. He does.

Each instance when his mother would fixate on his father’s lack of contribution to, well, everything, instead of asking Hyunjin about his day.

Hyunjin understands.

Maybe one day they’ll grow closer. Get to know each other.

Hyunjin wants to believe in things working out.

The school organizes a dance for Valentine’s day. Hyunjin starts dreading the hell out of it as soon as he learns about it.

“A dance? A fucking dance? Am I supposed to just ask someone there?” he whines to his friends as they make their way to a table at the cafeteria.

“Yeah, like this,” Jeongin slams his tray on a table around which the rest settle and turns on his heels. His eyes travel over the people filling the cafeteria, and then he’s striding off.

Hyunjin watches in a mixture of horror and amusement as Jeongin addresses a girl from his grade. It’s a short exchange, after which Jeongin returns to his friends with his face split into a grin. “And just like that, I’ve got myself a date.”

“Damn.”

“Way to go, Innie!”

Hyunjin just… gapes.

“It is not that hard, hyung,” Jeongin exclaims, “Just go up to someone and ask. Easy!”

Hyunjin groans, eyeing Seungmin who’s smiling at him apologetically. He’s still not out to the rest of his friends, so he can’t exactly explain that he doesn’t want to ask a girl to a dance when he fears he’ll give off the wrong impression.

Sometimes he really fucking wishes he had any girls as friends.

“What are you so worried about, Jin?” Jisung wonders. “As long as you don’t ask anyone who’s got a boyfriend there’s no doubt they’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, like, half the school wants to date you,” Changbin chimes in.

“Literally!” Felix nods. “I still can’t comprehend how you don’t have a girlfriend.”

Maybe he should just tell them. Rip the bandaid off, put an end to the endless inquiries about him not having a girlfriend. Surely it couldn’t be that bad?

Except the reactions from his friends wouldn’t matter. Hyunjin feels nauseous at the thought. It’s enough to still find himself soaking his pillow in tears every now and then if the alienation gets the best of him.

He’ll tell them, one day.

When Hyunjin only stays silent and stares at his feet with a grimace on his face, Seungmin interrupts. His savior, his guardian angel.

“Guys, why do you always make it such a big deal? Focus on your own lack of girlfriends,” Seungmin points out. Hyunjin feels a weight lift off his heart.

Later, when he’s walking home from school with Seungmin, Hyunjin brings the topic back up.

“Minnie?”

“Yeah?”

“What am I supposed to do about the dance?” Hyunjin asks, his voice weak. It’s silly how stressed he’s getting about something as meaningless as a goddamn high school dance.

“You do whatever you want to do,” Seungmin shrugs.

Oh, well, that’s a lot of help! “Yeah thanks, I don’t know how I didn’t come to think of that myself.”

Seungmin snorts. “I mean, what are the possibilities you’ve considered?”

“I don’t know, like— I know I should ask some girl, but I don’t want her to think it’d be in a romantic sense, and I hate the idea of the whole conversation where I ask someone and explain how it’d be only as friends…” he trails off, pauses as he groans. “So I guess— the two options that seem tempting are going with a friend or skipping the whole thing.”

Hyunjin fails to mention how in his wildest dreams he’d go with Seungmin. Not as friends, but that’s never going to happen, so there’s no point even suggesting.

“Yeah, I get that.”

“I don’t know, maybe I should ditch the whole thing,” Hyunjin mutters. The concept of a dance is lovely, he can’t deny that. But if he had to pretend he was having fun all throughout the night, he thinks he’d rather stay home and binge a drama.

Seungmin frowns. “I’d go with you, but I was already asked and I said yes.”

Oh.

Oh.

It’s substantially harder for Hyunjin to ignore the pang in his heart than it should be.

“Who’re you going with?”

“Yeona.”

A classmate of theirs. A quiet and nice girl. Hyunjin has done a project or two with her, and she’s the only person Hyunjin knows that rivals Seungmin in terms of brains.

“Oh.”

“I could tell her to ask her friends if one of them would want to go with you? Make it clear it’d be as friends,” Seungmin suggests, but Hyunjin shakes his head.

There’s no point even attending when he knows he’ll spend the entire time searching for Seungmin with his eyes, imagining how it would feel like to be the one holding his hand, twirling him around, gliding through the dance floor and go back home together to snuggle up next to him, falling into his arms.

“No, you don’t have to. I’ll figure something out.”

What he figures out is that the smartest choice is to stay at home.

He types a text to his friends the day of the dance, informing them he’s feeling under the weather, wishes them a good night, and buries himself under a blanket to binge romcoms for the rest of the night.

If he cries over the clenching he feels in his heart when the longing for loving and being loved the way he craves gets too much he’ll never admit. If he closes his eyes at an emotional song that plays during a montage and imagines himself being more than just a small town prisoner with more dreams than his heart has room to harbor he’ll never whisper a word about it.

It’s late into the night and Hyunjin is already dozing off when he hears rustling behind his closed door. His mom is away for the weekend, so the first conclusion he draws is he is going to get murdered.

Goodbye cruel world. Maybe if his killer is generous enough he can bargain for some time and write a love letter to Seungmin before he gets taken out.

Except when the door opens, there’s no crazed killer.

It’s Seungmin.

Hyunjin supposes it makes far more sense for it to be Seungmin. Seungmin knows where the spare key is, and there haven’t been any reported murders in their town. Ever. Though there is a first time for everything—but why is Hyunjin fixating on the odds of him getting murdered when there’s a pouting Seungmin at his door?

“Min?” he blinks and pauses the movie he’s already missed half of.

As his vision focuses on Seungmin, Hyunjin sees how not only is he pouting but he looks fucking devastating. His eyes are glassy, his hair is a mess, and he’s all slouched over. Like he came back from a war or something.

Seungmin only stands there, and for a beat, Hyunjin wonders if he’s just lucid dreaming. He checks the time. “It— it’s three in the morning, Seungmin, what’s going on, is something wrong?”

“Everything hates me.”

Hyunjin blinks. “What?”

“I get it, the feeling where everything hates you. Because everything fucking hates me.” Seungmin is slurring his words, only slightly, but it helps make everything click for Hyunjin.

“Are you drunk?”

Seungmin grumbles and takes off his blazer. He crouches down onto the floor and hugs his knees.

“Okay, uh— What happened?” Hyunjin wonders, feeling groggy as he shuffles on his bed to sit up.

“Yeona’s friend’s house was empty and we went there for an afterparty and I drank too much and I missed you and now everything hates me.”

Hyunjin wants to take his hand and kiss his knuckles. He wants to hold him close to his chest and tell him how nothing could ever hate him because he doesn’t have a despicable bone in his body.

What he does instead is get up and drag Seungmin up to sit on the bed. “Well, you wanna talk about it? Did something happen or did you just get sad drunk?”

Seungmin is sleepy, Hyunjin can see it in the way he leans on his shoulder, pulls his feet onto the bed, and struggles to keep his eyes open. “We played truth or dare. I was dared to kiss Yeona and I did and it was horrible.”

Oh. It’s an intense deja vu Hyunjin feels, only the roles are reversed.

“Why was it horrible?” There’s a part of Hyunjin that hopes Seungmin’s reasoning is the same as his was. That it dawned on him that he’d prefer kissing Hyunjin instead.

“I ran to the bathroom immediately after to throw up.”

“Wow, that bad?” Hyunjin attempts to joke, having a feeling Seungmin throwing up had more to do with drinking too much and less to do with finding the kiss repulsive.

His attempt works, because it makes Seungmin laugh. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

Seungmin groans. He shuffles on the bed and falls on his back to rest his head on Hyunjin’s lap. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. You don’t have to know.”

It’s silent for a beat. Then for another.

“I missed you.”

“You saw me twelve hours ago,” Hyunjin chuckles.

“I missed you,” Seungmin repeats, his neck craned so they can retain eye contact. “Nothing’s the same without you. I don’t wanna do anything without you. We’re gonna travel the world together, Jinnie, we should go to stupid high school dances together too. You’re my best friend…”

He knows he shouldn’t, god he knows he shouldn’t, but Hyunjin rests his hand on Seungmin’s head. Starts caressing his hair, tries to savor the sappy side of Seungmin that he only sees ever so scarcely.

“You’re my best friend too.”

Seungmin smiles, his eyes falling shut. “I’m gonna sound like a five-year-old, but Hyunjinnie—can we promise to be friends forever? I don’t wanna be thirty and realize I only have faded memories of you.”

“Of course. You’re never getting rid of me if I get to have a say.”

“Good. I don’t wanna get rid of you. Ever.”

They curl up under the covers next to each other some time later. Seungmin apologizes for barging in in the middle of the night the way he did, but Hyunjin assures him he doesn’t mind one bit.

Hyunjin doesn’t understand how one can feel so deeply saddened and the happiest they’ve ever been all at once.

Hyunjin misses Changbin’s graduation because of a common fucking cold.

He spends the first week of summer rotting in bed, crying, and drinking tea to relieve the burn in his throat.

His mother is worried, but how is Hyunjin supposed to admit he not only has a fever but he’s terrified to his core about wasting away his adolescence, letting go of everything he’s been dreaming of escaping from ever since he can remember?

“Hyunjin-ah…” Daeun enters his room with a knock. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Hyunjin is swallowed by his bed, hair greasy and sheets probably stinky as hell with the way he’s been sweating during the nights. He thinks some divine power is punishing him for being in love with the wrong person and not being able to do anything about it.

When he sees Seungmin enter, bearing a thermos flask and his Nintendo, Hyunjin knows he’s being punished.

”Hey, Hyun, how’re you feeling?”

Hyunjin drags a smile out of himself. ”Like death.”

“Death itself? Like a grim reaper or something?”

He nods.

“Well, unless you have any souls to claim, would you be up for some Mario Kart?”

It’s like Hyunjin is already half healthy again. “Mario Kart? Really? I thought you swore never to play it with me again cause I always kick your ass,” he snorts.

“Well,” Seungmin puts on a reluctant act, eyes impassive, “You haven’t been among the living for over a week, I thought you could use some vigor.”

It’s whenever Seungmin gets like this, caring and considerate—regardless of the way he hides it behind a nonchalant facade—that Hyunjin finds it the hardest to keep his feelings to himself. It’s been easy, almost unnaturally so, to block out the voice in his head that yearns for Seungmin around the clock. A part of Hyunjin thinks he’ll take the love to his grave. Make amends with that voice, come to a mutual agreement where it keeps its head low and grants Hyunjin peace. Allows him to move forward with his life.

The day is not today. It still taunts him as Seungmin hands him the thermos which, of course, has hot chocolate in it.

“Oh, you love me,” Hyunjin coos with a hand on his heart. Seungmin only rolls his eyes as he sets the game up.

It’s moments like these when Hyunjin feels like he’ll be young forever. Playing games, bickering over who gets to be player number one, drinking hot chocolate despite the weather being burning hot.

The closer Hyunjin gets to getting out of the town he’s sworn to escape for all his life, the less he wants to leave.

Senior year has rolled around when the unthinkable happens.

Seungmin gets a girlfriend.

Hyunjin isn’t jealous, except he is.

It starts out like any other high school relationship does; with a study date. Or study dates, plural.

Because Seungmin is stupidly smart and hardworking, taking extra courses on biology and math, and Hyunjin can only ever waste so much of Seungmin’s time asking for tutoring on the simpler topics, Seungmin, upon learning he shares the same interests and the same dream of becoming a doctor with Yeona, naturally starts spending more time with her.

First it’s at school. Doing projects together, discussing topics during recess that sound like pig latin to Hyunjin. They pair up for projects more often than not, and Hyunjin doesn’t feel jealous when they start hanging out at the library together to study as well. He’s not jealous at all.

What he doesn’t see happening is the two becoming closer, so when Seungmin tells him he’s going over to Yeona’s place for a date, Hyunjin almost chokes.

Seungmin is quick to clarify it’s only a study date, but it doesn’t stop the ugly jealousy from raising its head.

The jealousy is like a parasite. It’s a wound that’s infected, and the infection is spreading. All across every cell in Hyunjin’s body, like a plague. It’s every pathogenic microbe that exists, all morphed into one big clutter that’s eating Hyunjin alive, making him wither away.

Hyunjin decides to channel it into something. Fight the pathogenic jealousy-clutter. He does it by drawing. Why? He’s not sure.

It’s more scribbling lines across the paper than it is sketching anything comprehensible. By the end of it, he sees a face in the midst of the lines that color the paper grey. A face he cannot name, a face that looks like it’s screaming from a void.

It only gets worse when Seungmin barely talks about Yeona. All their other friends are curious, prying about his feelings for her, wiggling their eyebrows and nudging his shoulder when Yeona walks by.

And then, one day, Seungmin doesn’t correct Jisung about their date being a study date.

Despite being best friends, Hyunjin and Seungmin have retained the way they barely discuss girls. It has always been an insignificant amount that girls have been brought up in their conversations, but ever since Hyunjin came out to him, the amount has only decreased.

He’s not sure if it’s deliberate. If Seungmin doesn’t talk about Yeona even after they’ve become boyfriend and girlfriend only because he wants to spare Hyunjin from it. Despite never properly opening up about how he feels abnormal and like he’s wired wrong, Hyunjin knows Seungmin can see it.

He shouldn’t be jealous, yet he is. He shouldn’t cry himself to sleep about it, yet he does.

The only positive outcome in Hyunjin’s life that Seungmin’s relationship results in is his quickly growing love for making art. He doesn’t know shit about what he’s doing, but it doesn’t matter. It’s freeing, productive.

Something one might even consider a healthy coping mechanism.

“Come on, Seungmin! You’ve gotta give us something! Are you in love with her? Will you go to the same university? What do you usually do on your dates?” Jisung inquires about Seungmin’s relationship as the five are sitting in Sanghee’s café.

It’s a warm autumn afternoon. They’ve picked up the habit of spending time at the coffee shop again after summer for the third year in a row. It’s quieter when they’re only a group of five. Quieter when Changbin who always talked too much is gone.

Hyunjin wills himself to zone out. Focuses on the hot chocolate he’s having. It’s sickly sweet. Too sweet, yet all too bitter.

“Jisung, why do you care so much?” Seungmin sighs. He’s never enthusiastic to talk about Yeona even when it’s the five of them. Hyunjin tries not to read into it too much, but he can’t help it.

“Because! You have a girlfriend and none of us do and it’s exciting! Of course I wanna hear the details!”

Jeongin snorts. “Please don’t share all the details, I really couldn’t give less fucks about how her lips feel like.”

Felix bursts out giggling, Seungmin rolls his eyes. Hyunjin feels out of place.

“There’s nothing interesting about us watching movies and going on walks and studying,” Seungmin explains, stoic. If Hyunjin didn’t know any better, he’d think Seungmin is unhappy in their relationship.

But he does know better, because Seungmin isn’t someone who dates a person he doesn’t want to date.

Jeongin groans, “Right, I forgot you two are a bunch of nerds.”

Hyunjin half forces himself to huff out a laugh, so as not to draw too much attention with his absence in the conversation. He dreads the day Seungmin catches onto how something shifts in him at the mention of Yeona.

Dreads the day he’ll be forced to deal with being in love with his best friend.

If he had one wish, he’d wish to be normal. Like everyone else is.

“Seungmin?” Hyunjin addresses him after three rounds of Mario Kart. He’s lost every game, and that in itself is enough for Seungmin to think something is up, Hyunjin knows it.

When his mind isn’t on Seungmin and Yeona, it’s on applying to university. Time is like a train speeding by, and Hyunjin is falling off, holding onto a railing for dear life, hanging off it.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think an art degree would be good for nothing?”

“Art?” Seungmin blinks. “Since when have you been into art?”

It breaks his heart a little. They’ve been spending far less time together ever since Seungmin started dating Yeona, and Hyunjin gets it, he really does.

It doesn’t help heal the wounds in his heart. Doesn’t treat the infection, because the lump of bacteria has long ago grown a resistance to every antibiotic.

“Oh, uh… I’ve started drawing. During summer.”

“Well, can I see?”

Seungmin sounds enthusiastic. There’s a faint glow in his eyes, but Hyunjin doesn’t miss the way it’s masking something. Something that might just be painful.

Maybe Seungmin’s noticed how they’ve been growing more distant, too. And maybe he’s as upset over it as Hyunjin is. Even if it doesn’t reach quite the same level.

”Okay, sure, hold up,” Hyunjin shrugs, discards his controller on the bed and pulls out his phone. He’s got some pictures, and he’s glad they’re at Seungmin’s and not at Hyunjin’s home so he doesn’t have to go through the stack of paper with the most personal works of his.

Most of his works are… depressing, to put it the way it is. Portraying desolation, alienation. The walls caving in on a figure that’s curled up into himself, holding its body close with its arms. Withered flowers. Longing.

Truly, they’re a window to his soul. Some are too personal to ever be shown to anyone—even Seungmin.

The ones he shows Seungmin don’t necessarily diverge from the rest. The color schemes are dark, contain heavy shading.

He shows him an abstract piece. There’s not really a story to it. Hyunjin simply felt overwhelmed, like the world was too big and he was too small, too insignificant, and thus, he doodled some shapes.

Then he shows a piece with a bouquet of flowers. One of them withered, the rest blooming.

”Wow,” Seungmin breathes. He sounds like he’s totally in awe. Hyunjin doesn’t know whether it makes him want to cry or squeal. ”These are— wow, these are really emotional.”

Seungmin hasn’t even seen the half of it. Hyunjin wonders what he would think if he knew what made Hyunjin create these pieces.

”Thanks,” Hyunjin flashes a sheepish smile. He shows another piece.

It’s simultaneously his happiest and most woeful one. A boy, lying down in the grass with a thermos flask in his hand. The drawing doesn’t show it, but the flask is filled with hot chocolate.

”Wow… I don’t know what else to say, just— wow.”

Hyunjin laughs as he shuts off his phone. ”I’m taking that as a compliment.”

”It is a compliment. A big one. You’ve rendered me speechless, Jinnie.”

He dares to huff a giggle. ”So, about the art degree… Would it be good for nothing?”

Seungmin is quick to shake his head. ”No, absolutely not. If you like it you should totally go for it,” he then nods, words laced with gut-wrenching sincerity.

What holds him back is the fear of making a mistake. Maybe he’ll grow tired of art before even making it to university. Maybe it’s a phase. Maybe he’s as devoid of passion as he’s always feared he’d be.

”Yeah, I guess, it’s just— risky. Like, if I got an engineering degree I’d be guaranteed work.”

”Well, do you want to get a degree in engineering?”

Hyunjin grimaces, almost shuddering at the thought. It sounds like his worst nightmare. ”Ew, fuck no.”

Seungmin laughs. Hyunjin isn’t sure if it’s possible, but every time he hears Seungmin laugh, he thinks he loves it more.

”Then you have your answer. You wouldn’t be the only one taking an uncertain path anyway. Think about Changbin hyung.”

Hyunjin sighs. ”I think he’s gonna do something big one day.”

”Something big like admitting he isn’t as tough as he tries to be?”

”No, nothing that huge, obviously,” Hyunjin snorts.

He misses Changbin. He misses Minho and Chan, too. Occasionally, someone will start a conversation in their still existing group chat; they’ll swear they’ll have a reunion one day. Hyunjin doubts that will ever happen. He’s made his peace with growing apart with his friends.

More or less.

If only he got the chance to keep one. Keep Seungmin. Have him by his side, even if only as a friend. If he did, Hyunjin thinks he’d learn to be happy.

With time.

”You know, what if we both got into SNU? You and medicine, me and art…” Hyunjin suggests, gingerly. He dreams about following Seungmin everywhere he goes. Even if he has to keep a platonic distance.

”Yeah, I know…” Seungmin sighs and flops down onto his back on the bed. ”God I’d love that so much.”

”So— SNU is still your first pick?”

”Yeah, definitely. I’d love to move to Seoul. Love it even more if you moved there with me.”

It’s this thing that happens whenever Seungmin says something like… that. This thing where Hyunjin feels like he’s dying of a sugar overdose from hot chocolate that’s too sweet. Too sweet to the point he starts feeling sick.

He’s not sure when he started preferring savory over sweet.

”We’ll both apply there then?” Hyunjin asks, voice cautious like he’s walking on thin ice. They’ve talked about it multiple times in the past, but it’s never felt as serious as it feels now that they need to start applying in the matter of a few months.

”Yeah, let’s do it,” Seungmin nods with a grin. Hyunjin’s eye catches on his teeth. No matter how much Seungmin has always sworn to get them fixed, Hyunjin doubts it. They only make him look adorable, anyway.

Seungmin’s voice is airy when he continues, ”Imagine if we could dorm together.” He says it like he dreams of it more than he dreams of becoming a doctor.

Hyunjin doesn’t know whether he’d love or hate that more.

”Imagine, yeah…”

Best friends since childhood. Going to university together. Sharing a dorm. Graduating together before fleeing the country to conquer the world.

Maybe Hyunjin can afford to dream for a little longer.

High school relationships rarely last. It’s when the majority experience their first love and first heartbreak. Sure, there is the minority that beats the odds, the minority that makes it through and marries their high school sweetheart, gets a house and starts a nuclear family, spends the rest of their life with their first love. Their only love. Their last love.

Hyunjin isn’t that surprised when Seungmin ends up as a part of the majority.

It’s during the time Hyunjin and all his peers are busy stressing over university applications that Seungmin breaks the news to him.

They’re at Sanghee’s café, Hyunjin and Seungmin. Just the two of them. Seungmin drinking hot chocolate, Hyunjin an iced americano.

“We broke up.”

It comes out casually. Like Seungmin is telling him about doing his laundry. Or homework—except Seungmin isn’t this indifferent about his homework, like, ever. Hyunjin simply blinks, the straw he’s slurping the americano with staying caught between his lips.

“You broke up?” he echoes, dumbstruck. Sure, it’s not the most unfathomable thing he’s heard in his life, but Hyunjin couldn’t have seen this coming from a mile away.

Seungmin nods. “Yesterday.”

Silence.

Hyunjin just… blinks.

Is Seungmin seriously not going to elaborate on that?

No?

Fine, Hyunjin can do all the work, because while he isn’t necessarily itching with the need to know more, he at the very least needs to ensure Seungmin is doing okay.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, and he means it, he genuinely does, regardless of feeling his airways start to clear. His body’s fight against the microbes is having a turning point. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Seungmin shrugs, takes a sip of the hot chocolate. “Guess we just fell out. It wasn’t going to last.”

And that’s the end of the conversation, because the next second Seungmin is busy planning his life— their lives— after high school.

All the places they can visit in Seoul. How they won’t have to feel so lost because they’ll have each other. How they can help each other pack and unpack as they’ll move to the city.

Hyunjin thinks he must have missed a chapter. Sure, Seungmin dated Yeona only for three months, and yes, Seungmin must have been telling the truth when he said their breakup was inevitable.

Still, something about Seungmin brushing past the topic feels… secretive. Like he’s avoiding spilling something out. Like there’s something he doesn’t want Hyunjin to know.

Hyunjin is torn. He feels something tugging him into every possible direction. It’s hard to find a balance when a part of him is disheartened, another greedy and selfish and the third one beating him up over the sinful relief he feels.

Regardless, hearing Seungmin talk about his future where Hyunjin truly is there with him with such sincerity in his voice is bordering on too much for Hyunjin to handle.

“Like, the thought of something like frat parties is terrifying. But you’ve got to experience it, right?” Seungmin speaks, eager.

Hyunjin nods enthusiastically in lieu of a reply.

“So imagine we can go to shit like that together. Get a feel of everything, then ditch the place and go for a walk. Or something.”

“Right! Ugh, I’m so glad we’re going to the same uni.”

Seungmin hums, “Yeah, me too. Did you ever doubt that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a little.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Hyunjin lets a smirk tug on the corners of his mouth. “You love me that much, huh?”

And that’s the end of that. Seungmin rolls his eyes, and Hyunjin can see how hard he’s trying to suppress a smile. “No, I hate you.”

Hyunjin just grins. “Aww, I love you too!”

And he does. Maybe he always has. Maybe he always will.

Accepting the reality where he spends the rest of his life admiring and loving his best friend in silence doesn’t seem as impossible as it once used to.

The house Hyunjin lives in will never be a home. Not even when his father has been gone for over a year, not even when he’s started learning to accept himself, not even when his mother lets him be who he is.

It lacks warmth, it always has.

He seeks for the warmth everywhere. In doing the dishes. In watching romcoms and dramas that to this day are the best form of escapism for him. In cooking for his mother and himself.

Daeun is exhausted. Has been for all of Hyunjin’s life. He doubts it’ll ever change.

While he longs to get away, start a new life far away from here, he feels bad for his mother. He wants to help, but he can only do so much for Daeun who spends her days working and sleeping.

The time to apply to universities is approaching at a rapid pace.

Hyunjin knows his mother wants him to do what he enjoys, something that can bring him happiness. Yet when they’re having dinner one night, he feels anxious about bringing up the topic of graduating and moving away.

“Mom.”

“Yes?”

“I, uh— I think I wanna go study art. At SNU.”

“Oh. That’s wonderful,” Daeun smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Her smiles rarely do so. “You’re talented, Hyunjin-ah, I’m glad you’ve found something you want to pursue.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Hyunjin sighs. “Will you be fine here without me when I leave?”

“Oh, Hyunjinnie…” her smile softens. “Of course I will. No mother can have her child stay as her child for all of her life.”

He supposes it makes sense. There is still a part of Hyunjin that considers staying even when it’s the last thing he wants to do. He imagines himself getting a job somewhere in his hometown. Staying behind, because it would be safe.

What if he leaves for the city, tries to chase his dreams, and finds out he’s not made for big things? What if he falls behind, learns that his destiny is to rot away his life in the one place he’s been dreaming to escape for all his life?

If he gave up without trying, he wouldn’t have to deal with disappointment.

Hyunjin does apply to SNU. There is a chance he won’t get in, so he makes sure to apply to other universities, both in Seoul and outside of Seoul. Surely he can at the very least get into one in Seoul. Move there with Seungmin.

Keep the one person he desperately needs in his life.

The day results come, Hyunjin and his friends are gathered at Felix’s house.

Jeongin is there too, responsible for calming the rest down and keeping the atmosphere even somewhat breezy despite the other four anxiously roaming and pacing around as they wait for the verdict.

Hyunjin tries to prepare mentally, but it’s no use. He’s downed four cups of coffee and he’s close to shaking from feeling so on edge. Should’ve consumed less fucking caffeine.

“It came, it came, it came!” Jisung screams, breaking the pressing silence that’s been hovering over the five for the past ten minutes.

“Oh my god,” Felix breathes, sounding like he’s going to be sick any second now.

Hyunjin feels alike. He just wants to get in. Somewhere in Seoul. Fuck, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he needs to move to a city far away all on his own.

He can’t open the emails yet. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes.

Seungmin is the first to speak. “SNU! I got in!”

Of course he did. Hyunjin never doubted it. Seungmin is unstoppable when he wants something, that’s how he’s been all his life. Hyunjin knows he’ll go far.

When Jisung and Felix in turn start rejoicing about being accepted to their first or second choices, Hyunjin congratulates them. He feels sick.

He starts feeling even sicker when he starts checking the emails.

Rejected.

Waitlisted.

Rejected.

Fuck.

It’s more rejections, more waitlists he’s gotten put on, and he’s only got two more to check.

Seoul National University and Chungnam National University.

The chances of getting into CNU are substantially higher than getting into SNU, and if he wasn’t accepted into any other universities in Seoul, he doubts he’s been accepted into SNU either.

He checks CNU first. Feels a weight lift off his heart when he sees he’s in.

At least he got in somewhere. At least he’ll have a future even if it is far away from Seoul. Far away from Seungmin.

That is if SNU has rejected him.

He prepares to be disappointed, braces himself.

Checks the email.

Starts feeling like the walls are caving in.

Waitlisted.

So far back in the line there’s not a chance he’ll get in.

Of course.

Of course.

Hyunjin doesn’t want to bring the mood down, so he focuses on the positives. At least he got in somewhere. At least his friends are happy. At least Seungmin is happy.

“Hyunjinnie?” Seungmin starts, his voice impossibly soft when they’re walking home later the same night.

“Hm?”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Hyunjin exhales. Deep and strained. “What’s there to talk about?”

Seungmin huffs a shallow laugh as he nudges Hyunjin’s side. “You’re worried. You’re feeling shitty. I can see it.” The smile on his face is wistful. Compassionate. Hyunjin wishes he didn’t love it so much.

“I mean— I guess I knew there was a good chance I wouldn’t get in. And, like, at least I got in somewhere, I suppose that’s good enough for me.” But it isn’t. He’s more disheartened over inevitably being separated from Seungmin than he is over not being accepted into his first choice.

He knows he’s not the smartest, not the most hardworking. He’s never really had a problem with it; the one thing his mother has taught him is that his creativity is all he needs. But right now, all Hyunjin wants is to be a little smarter.

“CNU is really good. You should be proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.”

Hyunjin wants to cry. He swallows thickly around the burning lump in his throat. Leave it to Seungmin to make him feel enough no matter the circumstances. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

Silence for a beat. And another one.

“Guess I’m just a bit… sad.”

He knows the distance won’t be as bad as it gets. He knows he’s being dramatic—as per usual. They’re friends for fuck’s sake, not a married couple about to be forced apart.

“Yeah, I get it… Guess I’m a bit sad too.”

Hyunjin’s heart aches. “I mean— ever since we were just kids, I— I felt like… connected to you. And when we always talked about getting away together, I guess I imagined it would happen.” His hands are jammed into his pockets as they walk, his eyes fixed to the ground.

“I know. Me too.”

Hyunjin doesn’t doubt his words, no. Regardless, he knows Seungmin doesn’t mean it like he means it. He loves Seungmin, Seungmin doesn’t love him.

“But Hyun? Even if we’re not in the same city it doesn’t mean something’s gonna happen to us.”

Us. Like there is a them. Hyunjin knows he doesn’t mean it like that, but oh how much he wishes he did.

He hums, flashing a soft smile as he picks out a rock from the ground with his eyes and starts kicking it.

“Just because there’s a few hour train ride between us doesn’t mean we’ll drift apart. You’re my best friend. You’ll always be. Nothing can change that.”

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

Hyunjin makes the most of his last year in high school. He doesn’t fixate on how hopelessly in love with Seungmin he is, doesn’t fixate on how terrified he is of leaving.

Studies don’t even weigh him down anymore. He cherishes every assignment he gets to work on with his friends, every project he does at the very last minute while on call with Jisung or Felix.

Late night study sessions with all his friends. Baking cookies. Stealing a bottle of wine from his mom’s cabinet and sharing it with Seungmin while they play some Mario Kart (Hyunjin still beats him even when he’s drunk. Nothing is as hilarious or endearing as the heated tangent Seungmin goes on when he loses his patience). Wandering in the night when the weather starts getting warm again after winter.

Time is slipping from Hyunjin. He used to think he had an eternity before the day he’s spent all his life waiting for arrived. Now it’s on his doorstep. Walking its way up the stairs, slowly. He hears the steps. The loud thuds daunting him, a reminder of how his life will turn upside down in the matter of some months.

He wants to go. He does. But can’t it just— wait for a while? Give him another year where he’s safe, where he can still afford to dream without the fear of not living up to those dreams creeping in the corner, watching over him like a predator.

Another year of having Seungmin so present in his life. Despite it making him ache, Hyunjin doesn’t know what he would do without Seungmin.

Doesn’t know what he will do without Seungmin.

Graduation arrives before Hyunjin knows it.

Before he knows it, he’s leaving the premises of the high school for one last time. He feels like crying, but he swallows down his tears. Those can wait.

It’s hard but he manages. If one or two tears escape his eyes when he’s hugging Seungmin after the ceremony he’ll never admit it. If he has to escape to a bathroom to collect himself when Minho, Chan and Changbin return to their town to attend the graduation he’ll never whisper a word about it.

The day starts feeling painfully real when Daeun bakes him a cake.

Hyunjin barely keeps his tears in check as they share it in lieu of a celebration. Hyunjin doesn’t have any other family than her.

“Mom?”

Her smile is one of the brightest Hyunjin has seen on her face. “Yes?”

“I’m scared.”

Hyunjin regrets ever saying anything the second he sees his mother’s eyes fall into the shades of concern. “Scared of what?”

Scared of growing up. Falling behind. Everything he’s ever cherished in his life drifting away from him right before his eyes while all Hyunjin can do is beg for things to stay the same.

“Leaving,” is what comes out. “Leaving everything. Leaving you behind.”

“Hyunjin-ah…” Daeun looks peaceful when he lays her hand over Hyunjin’s on top of the table. “I’m the last thing you need to worry about. I promise.”

He falls silent. Offers his mother a tight smile, takes a spoonful of cake into his mouth.

The day he leaves home is right in his reach. Almost falling over his fingertips. It’s terrifying.

Despite himself, Hyunjin lets another thought slip out. “Do you think you’ll ever see dad again?”

Daeun hums. She seems to fall deep in thought. “I don’t know.” Her brow stays furrowed for another moment before she’s smiling again. A warm smile. A consoling one. “I hope I don’t.”

“Really?”

“He was never a father to you, Hyunjin. He was never a husband to me, either. I think we’ve been better off without him.”

Hyunjin thinks so too. He shows it wordlessly with a small nod of his head, with a faint smile.

Despite the undeniable hardships, they’ve come a long way. Both Hyunjin and his mother. The ghost of an angry man is present only ever so scarcely, and Hyunjin feels free—he’s thankful for feeling so in regards to one single aspect of his life. Daeun returns home from work with a smile on her face more often than not. Home is still not a home, not truly, but it’s closer to it.

Hyunjin hopes his mother thinks so too.

There is, of course, a party.

A fucking Jackson Wang party of all.

Hyunjin doesn’t know if Jackson Wang still lives in their town or not, hasn’t seen him, like, ever, but Chan seems to be in contact with him. So when Chan tells them all they’re allowed to attend the party he’s throwing the very night of the graduation, Hyunjin is… thrilled.

No better way to cope with change than to get wasted at a house party hosted by someone who’s an entire legend among the residents of their shitty little town.

He gets ready. Even dares to put some makeup on.

“Mom, I’m going now,” he shouts from the front door, already halfway slipping out.

When Daeun comes into view, her eyes widen. Only for a split second. Maybe it’s the makeup. Maybe it’s the slightly cropped top Hyunjin’s wearing.

“Stay safe, Hyunjin-ah.”

Hyunjin smiles. Nods. “Of course.”

They all meet up at a park before leaving for the party. The very same park Hyunjin first met Seungmin at. One playset has been removed since the last time he visited this place.

It’s eerie.

Nostalgic, although Hyunjin hasn’t even left yet.

“I cannot believe we’re all together again,” Jisung giggles as they start making their way to Jackson Wang’s house. Wherever that may be.

“Well, half of our group just graduated, figured it was worth it to come see this,” Minho offers with a shrug. He gains an immediate smack to his chest with that one.

“Yah! Are you saying my graduation wasn’t worth shit?” Changbin remarks.

“Yes,” is Minho’s eloquent response.

Hyunjin laughs like he’s fifteen again.

“Minho hyung, that’s mean,” Felix pouts as he wraps an arm around Changbin’s shoulders.

“Yeah, well, that’s Minho hyung for you,” Seungmin chimes in.

“Lix, what do you say if we just ditch these fuckers, you’re the only one who’s ever appreciated me here anyway,” Changbin scoffs.

It’s like nothing’s changed. Hyunjin feels like someone has wrapped him into a warm blanket, a blanket that shields him from the coldness of the real world, keeps him in the bubble which he desperately wants to live in for the rest of his life.

Maybe his life wasn’t ever as bad as he thought it was. Maybe the town he’s despised from ever since he can remember isn’t so shitty after all.

Maybe he’s wasted his whole life away, waiting for the future only for the comfortable present to slip through his fingers. Melt in his grasp like an ice cube, and before he has the chance to realize it, he’s desperately holding the water in the palm of his hand as it drips down and forms a pool at his feet. A pool he can only stare at, wishing he would have been smart enough to keep the ice from melting.

The second Hyunjin steps foot inside Jackson Wang’s house—or he assumes it’s his house, but, then again, what does he know—he thinks he’s teleported into another dimension.

There’s music. There’s a fuck ton of people. LED lights flickering. It looks like what Hyunjin would picture a popular nightclub that has people lining up for hours just to get in. And it makes absolutely zero sense; who are all these people, where did they come from, why the hell are they in a town like theirs?

He voices the thought.

“Okay so who the fuck is Jackson and what the hell does he do to throw parties like this?”

“No one knows,” Minho shakes his head, “No one knows…”

A man with bleached hair and sunglasses over his eyes appears in front of them. He’s instantly throwing his arms out and scooping Chan into a hug.

“Channie! And Channie’s friends! Welcome, welcome.”

Hyunjin guesses this is Jackson himself.

“Happy to be here,” Chan laughs.

How do they even know each other? Hyunjin doesn’t know, and he supposes it doesn’t really matter.

“Make yourselves at home!” Jackson greets the rest of the group with his arms still spread out even after he’s detached himself from the hug, “Try not to get into fights and have fun,” he adds, points finger guns at them, and then he’s off.

“Dude, isn’t it like— a bit weird he’s having high schoolers at his party?” Seungmin wonders.

“Nah, stop being so lame, Seungmin,” Jisung waves a dismissive hand.

Hyunjin cannot be bothered to think about anything concerning Jackson Wang. He simply wants to start drinking and make the most of the night.

Oh, and not get so wasted his brain-to-mouth filter disappears and he ends up blurting out his feelings for Seungmin.

Adapting to the environment is rather easy. Hyunjin strays away from his friends as soon as he’s tipsy and finds himself making conversation with people he’s never seen before. And with a few acquaintances from high school, because apparently, they aren’t the only high schoolers there.

However, soon enough Hyunjin finds himself missing Seungmin, craving his presence. Maybe he can let himself act clingy all he wants tonight, blame it on the alcohol. Since Seungmin has never been all that big on physical affection, Hyunjin has cut back on it substantially ever since he realized where exactly his feelings lied.

But maybe, just maybe, he can latch himself onto Seungmin’s arm without questions asked.

If only for tonight.

When he leaves on the search for Seungmin, he ends up going through the entire house. Peeking into every room, which, admittedly, turns out to be a mistake. He’s not gonna open another closed door again.

Finally, he hits the jackpot. Not only does he find Seungmin, but the rest of his friends too. And a bunch of other people, some of whom just today graduated as well. All gathered into a bedroom, sitting down in a circle.

“Hyunjinnie!” Seungmin lights up at the sight of him, patting the floor with his left hand, prompting Hyunjin to sit down.

“What is this, a high school reunion?” Hyunjin giggles, “We only graduated today, y’know?” As he sits down next to Seungmin, he eyes at the people, recognizes some older people that have gone to their high school a year or two ago.

And like, seriously, where the hell have all these people come from?

“Nah, we’re playing truth or dare,” some girl who’s sitting on a guy’s lap answers.

Truth or dare? Hyunjin cannot believe his ears.

Well, suppose he can’t really say he’s lived if he doesn’t go to one house party and play truth or dare.

“Alright, then, I’m in, continue, please,” he giggles, shuffling closer to Seungmin who flashes him a smile.

It’s a mistake, meeting Seungmin’s eyes. Because Seungmin’s cheeks are flushed red. His pupils are blown wide, and he looks more adorable than he ever has. Especially with that fucking smile. Hyunjin adores the corners of his mouth. He wants to kiss them more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

To will his thoughts to calm down, Hyunjin averts his eyes. Chugs his drink. Zeroes in on the game.

Nothing that interesting happens, per se.

It’s very bland. Tame. Hyunjin gets dared to take a sip of everyone’s drinks, Jeongin gets asked if he’s ever been in love—no—Chan is dared to take his shirt off, some older girl needs to give a lap dance to someone—she gives it to her boyfriend.

It could be worse, though. Hyunjin does not feel like everything hates him, neither does he burn with the need to pour out his heart to Seungmin.

And then Felix is dared to kiss someone. Hyunjin stifles a laugh. There are a total of four girls in the room, all of them wrapped around some guy. Felix gulps, scanning the room with his eyes widened. Hyunjin knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“Uh— Are all of you girls, like— taken?”

Yep, Hyunjin knew exactly what he was thinking. He can barely refrain from giggling. It’s funny.

He doesn’t register the answers Felix gets, but it’s not hard to figure it out.

“Fuck, well, what am I supposed to do now then?”

Hyunjin bursts out laughing. God, he’s having so much fun!

“Oh, honey…” some older guy sighs, “We’re not living in the medieval ages here. There are plenty of single guys in the room.”

Felix’s face falls. Hyunjin is close to crying, and he seeks refuge by burying his head on Seungmin’s—who’s choking out laughs as well—shoulder.

He doesn’t see the process happening, doesn’t see Felix’s contemplation nor does he see him make his decision. What he does see when he lifts his head, is Felix kissing Changbin. His arms wrapped around Changbin’s shoulders. Changbin’s fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of Felix’s neck.

Now that is a sight Hyunjin finds grave enjoyment in. When the two break apart, Hyunjin starts clapping. He’s laughing and he’s applauding them. Soon enough, more people join in.

Felix is completely flushed red. As is Changbin.

Hyunjin is having the time of his goddamn life.

“Okay, fuck you Hyunjin, truth or dare?” Felix asks with a deadpan stare.

Hyunjin knows Felix wants revenge for all the cackling he’s been doing, so the choice is easy enough. “Truth.”

“What’s something you’ve never told anyone before? And you better give a good fucking answer that I need to approve of,” Felix points a stern finger at him.

Too drunk to come up with a believable lie that’s good enough, Hyunjin sighs. “Dare.” Fucking Felix just had to go and pose the one question Hyunjin can’t—won’t—answer.

Felix breaks out into a grin. “Your turn to kiss someone!”

Of course. Of fucking course.

He contemplates. There’s the obvious choice he wants to make. Then there’s the tempting choice of kissing Felix for the sake of fucking with him some more.

Hyunjin’s eyes travel over the faces in the room. When he feels a tap on his thigh coming from his right, his eyes land on Seungmin.

Seungmin, who’s got his head tilted.

Seungmin, whose eyes are widened ever so slightly.

Asking.

“Oh,” Hyunjin blinks. He might have been gravitating towards Felix, but Seungmin is offering and he looks fucking stunning. Resemblant of the time Seungmin offered him a do-over, only this time he’s lacking the hesitance.

“Okay,” Hyunjin says, but it comes out as a whisper. Barely audible. He’s closer to just mouthing the word than he is to properly speaking it.

Seungmin flashes a faint smile, a quirk of a corner of his mouth as Hyunjin starts leaning in, eyes zeroing in on Seungmin’s parted lips.

His lips are beautiful.

Hyunjin feels just like he did at sixteen. Anticipation pooling in his abdomen, all his surroundings vanishing into thin air. They aren’t even kissing yet, and still, it’s only Hyunjin and it’s only Seungmin.

Unlike before, this time Seungmin doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t try asking how, and, quite literally, takes matters into his own hands by sliding a hand behind Hyunjin’s neck and pulling him close to break the distance once and for all.

Hyunjin melts. Melts into Seungmin’s touch, melts against his lips.

One hand snaking to Seungmin’s shoulder, holding on for dear life. Hot breaths mingling. Humming contently into Seungmin’s mouth when Hyunjin feels teeth grazing his lower lip. Seungmin setting the intent rhythm Hyunjin follows.

With the way Seungmin kisses him, Hyunjin would think it was Seungmin doing the dare, not him.

He feels completely delirious—he might as well be on drugs, that’s how high kissing Seungmin raises him.

And the high only gets better, because Seungmin—god help Hyunjin—slips his tongue into Hyunjin’s mouth.

It’s like he wants Hyunjin to pass out.

Still, he gladly reciprocates. Swirls his tongue around Seungmin’s, leans closer against him. Takes all that Seungmin gives him with greed he’s never known he harbors.

He wants to stay here forever. Not spare a thought for the future, for the way this is not helping him get over Seungmin.

Forever isn’t what he gets.

Seungmin pulls away, as quick as he pulled Hyunjin close.

It would be pin-drop silence if it weren’t for the music blasting outside of the room.

Hyunjin licks his lips, wills himself to keep calm. Not die on the spot, even when that’s what he feels like doing.

The silence gets broken by Changbin.

”Dude… That’s like, kinda gay.”

It takes all of Hyunjin’s willpower to keep himself from bursting out laughing. He bites the inner side of his cheek, decides to say fuck it.

”I am gay, Changbin.”

He’s not sure why he hasn’t said it before. His friends have never shown signs of being homophobic, and while they haven’t ever explicitly discussed gay rights or anything, he’s got a feeling no one is about to come and decapitate him.

Even in a room full of strangers.

It’s absurd, really.

When Hyunjin imagined himself coming out publicly, he never pictured it happening while he’s drunk at a house party. Yet that’s what he’s ended up opting for.

He knows being drunk makes it easier, but he doesn’t hear the voice at the back of his head. The voice that’s been daunting him for so long, the voice that only a year ago would have ordered him to deny it, deem it a joke.

The voice is quiet now.

It’s quiet, and Hyunjin feels light as he finally does crack a laugh at the sight of Changbin’s face falling pale.

”What, you— Shit, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like— It wasn’t meant to sound like—” He’s almost frantic, and Hyunjin’s laughs keep growing in volume. Seungmin promptly joins in.

”No, it’s fine,” Hyunjin waves a hand, howling with laughter. ”It’s fine,” he adds for good measure.

His eyes are watering from the way he’s laughing, so he doesn’t see Felix come up to him—only learns the information when he feels arms wrapping around him.

And then all his friends are saying how they’re proud of him.

Hyunjin feels a little sorry for the outsiders in the room, making them endure a very much sappy moment, but then again, why should he care?

He really does love his friends.

It’s later into the night, way past three in the morning when Seungmin drags Hyunjin outside to get some fresh air.

The only problem is the porch is filled with people who are smoking, so the air there isn’t exactly fresh.

Thus, Hyunjin in turn drags Seungmin behind the house.

It’s located in a rather remote area. The yard is spacious, empty and dark as a view of a field opens from the backyard.

Of course there’s a field.

”Ugh, I’m so tired,” Seungmin groans as he falls down on his back onto the ground.

Hyunjin giggles. ”Your clothes are gonna get dirty.”

”I don’t give a fuck. They’re probably soaked in liquor anyway.”

Silence. Hyunjin is torn between staring into the far distance and at Seungmin’s face, peaceful as he closes his eyes.

It feels cinematic, for some reason. Nostalgic. Like the end of something. Standing there in silence as the moon illuminates the night sky.

Knowing the upcoming summer is the last one Hyunjin spends here. With Seungmin.

With Seungmin, who a mere few hours ago kissed Hyunjin like he loved him too.

He’s not sure how long the silence lasts. His thoughts derail, a montage playing in his mind as he longs for something he’s never even had the chance to lose.

It’s a click of Seungmin’s tongue that eventually disturbs the silence.

A click of his tongue followed by a deep inhale and words Hyunjin never thought he’d hear.

”I definitely like guys.”

Hyunjin freezes in his place. Like he’s not in control of his body anymore. In a trance. Coldness and warmth coursing through his veins, he feels lightheaded.

”What.”

”I mean, I don’t know what I am but I know I’m not straight,” Seungmin continues, his words coming out slowly, casually. Easily.

Hyunjin does not know how to respond. Vocabulary wiped clean.

Is he even hearing this right? Is Seungmin… Is Seungmin implying it wouldn’t be impossible—

”Guess I always had a feeling. Somewhere deep down. But, you know, I was never sure. Not until now.”

”Until now?”

”Yeah. I never really bothered with thinking about it too much. But I know it now.”

Hyunjin’s heart has to be in his throat by now. If he doesn’t say something—something cool and calm and casual— he’s going to end up confessing.

He’s determined not to let that happen. He won’t ruin the last summer he gets to spend here, safe and sound, by making things awkward.

”Am I just that good of a kisser?”

Seungmin laughs. Opens his eyes. Looks up at Hyunjin.

”Sure. Yeah.”

Hyunjin is going to miss playing Mario Kart. He’s going to miss it when Seungmin loses the tenth game in a row and attacks Hyunjin with his controller, trying to mask his amusement by narrowing his eyes and scrunching his nose. Seungmin always aims to look threatening like that, which Hyunjin thinks is simply adorable. Most of all, Hyunjin is going to miss how Seungmin always plays with him despite how much he hates losing.

He’s going to miss drinking coffee or hot chocolate at Sanghee’s coffee shop. The hot chocolate she makes is the best Hyunjin has tasted in his life. He’s going to miss the warmth the decoration and the atmosphere of the café brings him. Going for a study session there with his friends only to end up letting time slip by as they waste it on gossiping instead.

Time. It always seems to be slipping by.

Hyunjin feels it in the raindrops that fall over his face at the end of June, gentle. Like they’re kissing him goodbye. He wishes it were Seungmin kissing him instead.

Seungmin doesn’t. He simply lays there next to Hyunjin, in the grass that covers the uphill area they once got drunk at. During a simpler time. When time was still all Hyunjin had.

He’s going to miss the smell of rain in his hometown. It always mixes with the signature, dusty scent that hovers over the streets. It’s stale yet pleasant, soothing. Like an old basement where ancient relics are stored. Like a deja vu.

Time slips by as Hyunjin prepares snacks for a picnic with his friends. Somehow, it seems to be doing so at an accelerating speed. It drips down, down, down his palm as he laughs his heart out over something so stupid Seungmin said he doesn’t even remember it five minutes later.

Time flies, but Hyunjin feels frozen. Frozen as his eyes keep gravitating to Seungmin even when there’s the prettiest sunset he’s ever witnessed painting the sky a breathtaking pink.

His eyes seek out Seungmin everywhere. No matter where he is, no matter who he’s with. Maybe he’ll always search for Seungmin, wherever he is.

Lying down on a quilt, the temperature just right, the air crisp. Simply admiring the sunset.

Hyunjin’s eyes seek out the corners of Seungmin’s mouth, which always curve oh so beautifully when he smiles. They seek out the curve of Seungmin’s nose. The curve Hyunjin wants to kiss. They seek out his eyes, those puppy eyes that are now reflecting the warm hue of the sky.

And they seek out Seungmin’s lips. Seungmin’s lips, which Hyunjin knows feel soft against his. Seungmin’s lips, which Hyunjin adores. Which Hyunjin desperately wants to kiss.

As the inevitable approaches, Hyunjin can’t help but start considering his options. What if he did tell Seungmin? What’s the worst that could happen?

He craves closure in a way he’s never craved it before. Craves it now that he knows he’s not following Seungmin where he goes.

The thought is present every second of every minute of every hour.

He’s going to miss the ice cream parlor that serves the best strawberry ice cream that Hyunjin has ever tasted. It’s like heaven on earth.

”Come on, you’re seriously missing out!” Seungmin laughs, shoving his cone of pistachio ice cream Hyunjin’s way.

”No, I am not. Pistachio ice cream is like— It should be illegal.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “You always preach about being open-minded but haven’t ever even tried this, like— come on. Just taste it!”

He holds the cone under Hyunjin’s scrunched up nose. Okay, so fine, maybe Seungmin has a point. But pistachio flavor has got to be ass. It cannot be good in any reality.

“What do I get if I taste it? Make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

“You get an incredibly delightful experience. Cause it’s just that fucking good.”

Now that’s just pathetic. Hyunjin was hoping for a kiss.

He snorts. “You make such awful deals.”

“Okay, so what, you still love me.”

That he does. More than Seungmin knows.

“Okay, fine, I’ll try it.”

Seungmin, may god help Hyunjin, does a little jump. Lets out a small yay.

And yes, Hyunjin does hate it.

Hyunjin makes up his mind when he’s packing. As he goes through all his drawers, he spends an hour looking through all his artwork. Analyzing them, vividly recalling how he felt when he was creating each piece.

They hold memories. Encapsulate everything that’s happened over the past year.

Longing for something he hasn’t yet lost. Something he will never have a chance to lose or gain if he keeps his lips sealed.

Everything is changing. Everything has been changing. From the day he was born, always changing, warping into something different. Morphing, evolving. Happening without no one noticing.

Hyunjin has always had very few certainties in his life. He hates his hometown and he wants to get away. And he has Seungmin. Seungmin, his best friend, his rock.

When the former has been proved uncertain after all, Hyunjin starts questioning the latter as well.

He can’t pinpoint where the heat comes from, but it makes something within him bubble. The kettle filled to the brim, water about to overboil.

While he can still turn the heat off, he suddenly doesn’t feel like doing it. Maybe he can let it work its magic, surrender and observe as a mere bystander and let go of the effort to control things he has no power over.

Hyunjin is in love with Seungmin, and he can’t keep it to himself. Not anymore.

It’s only a week until they’re leaving for university when Hyunjin asks Seungmin if they can talk. He rarely ever asks, simply talks, so Seungmin must know it’s no small inconvenience Hyunjin wants to whine about.

When they meet up at Seungmin’s house, Hyunjin is breaking a nervous sweat. He can still see straight, so that’s something.

He wills himself to relax by reminding himself that this is Seungmin. Seungmin who always listens to him. Seungmin who always understands.

Of course he’ll understand. He’ll be kind when he breaks Hyunjin’s heart.

And Hyunjin knows he’ll break his heart.

If by the off-chance, Seungmin did return his feelings, he would have told Hyunjin so. Because Seungmin isn’t like Hyunjin. He isn’t as emotional, as uncertain.

Seungmin does what he wants to do, what he knows he needs to do, with no hesitation whatsoever.

Hyunjin, on the contrary, doesn’t.

”Okay so before you say anything can I say something first?” is the first thing Seungmin says—no, blurts out— when they sit down. Seungmin on his bed, Hyunjin on the floor.

The floor is for big problems.

”Oh, okay, sure,” Hyunjin nods, clammy hands clasped together on his lap.

He’s too occupied by his own trepidation so he doesn’t realize how Seungmin appears to be even more on edge.

Hyunjin keeps swallowing, saliva piling up on his tongue. He’s not as terrified as he thought he’d be, but the stalling makes it worse.

Seungmin keeps quiet. Gazing at his feet, palms spread out on the bed on both of his sides. He’s staying so still Hyunjin starts thinking he might be holding his breath. Hyunjin’s anxiety about his pending confession subsides. Just a little.

After too many seconds of silence, Hyunjin starts finding this alarming. Something has to be wrong. Is Seungmin ending their friendship? Is he— god— is he dying? Hyunjin starts fearing for the worst. Always has been quick to do that.

“I got into NYU med.”

Oh.

What the hell?

“What?”

“I got into fucking NYU.”

Hyunjin blinks. So he’s not dying. That’s good.

“NYU as in— The one in New York?”

Seungmin nods, sharp. “That’s the one.”

“I— Wha— How? I didn’t even know you applied there, I didn’t— Didn’t know you wanted to go…” Hyunjin all but squeaks, his voice high-pitched.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell anyone. Not even my mom. Not about applying, not about wanting to apply, because— Guess it’s always been a dream. But I was so sure I wasn’t going to get in so— I didn’t say anything about it. And, initially, I got waitlisted. Stayed there until last week.”

Hyunjin feels a cold wave wash over him. The ocean raging, waves crashing against the cliffs. He blinks with his lips parted.

“You— wow. That’s really fucking impressive. Oh my—” he stammers, not quite finding the words.

He does catch the implication. Seungmin. New York. They’ve always talked about going there. Together. When they’d leave for good and go see every crevice of the world. Explore it.

Together.

“Yeah, I guess. Got a full ride.”

“A full ride? What the hell— I’m so proud of you,” Hyunjin huffs a ghost of a laugh. It’s dry, it’s choked, and he feels his stomach turning. Seungmin doesn’t need to clarify he’s going. Of course he’s going.

Not only will Seungmin be in another city, he’ll be an entire ocean away.

Despite Seungmin sitting right across from him, Hyunjin feels like they’re two worlds apart.

“Thanks,” Seungmin flashes a smile. Hyunjin is too caught up in his own head, his ears ringing with the clashing of the waves to register how much pain Seungmin’s eyes try to mask.

“So— You’re moving to New York.”

Seungmin swallows. Looks down at his feet. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Empty. That’s how Hyunjin feels. Like he’s been sucked into a void.

He doesn’t say another word. They all die down in his throat.

The pool at his feet has dried, the water has sunken into the ground.

And there’s nothing Hyunjin can do about it.

All he can do is sit down next to Seungmin and hug him. Accept that he’ll have to deal with the love of his life moving an entire ocean away. Accept that there’s no point in telling him, because he’s already hurting enough.

When Seungmin asks what Hyunjin needed to talk to him about, Hyunjin says it’s nothing important.

He’s got bigger worries now. Dealing with never getting closure is nothing in comparison to the fear of Seungmin drifting away from him for good.

The one person he’s ever wanted to keep. The one person Hyunjin would bleed himself dry for. The one person who’s ever made him feel like everything will work out in the end.

But what if it doesn’t?

Hyunjin doesn’t cry, he lies flat on the floor, Jiniret and PuppyM on his chest.

He digs deep within himself to find any hints of optimism. Maybe nothing will change. Maybe the universe is on Hyunjin’s side, just this once, and no amount of time difference or distance can make them lose contact.

He’s there when Seungmin is leaving. Leaving, like he’s always wanted. 

Hyunjin doesn’t want to let him go. Maybe he’s behaving like his husband is being drafted to war, but so fucking what? Hyunjin has always been dramatic, nothing will ever change that fact.

And that’s what it feels like.

His heart doesn’t break because it’s already broken. During the years he’s known Seungmin, he’s been gifting him pieces of it. Piece by piece, tearing it apart without realizing. Now one half resides in his chest while the other is in Seungmin’s pocket, and Seungmin is taking it with him. Thousands of miles away.

Hyunjin will never get it back.

He gives PuppyM for Seungmin to take with him. It only feels fitting. Hyunjin hopes it will work as a reminder of him. That even if they do lose contact, Seungmin will look at the button eyes of the plushie and remember the dreams they used to share.

“We won’t let anything change. You’re still my best friend. You’ll always be,” Seungmin whispers into the crook of Hyunjin’s neck as they’re wrapped around each other.

It feels like a last goodbye. Hyunjin holds on to Seungmin for dear life.

“Yeah. Friends forever, right?” he laughs, a pathetic excuse for a joke.

“Look, I wasn’t kidding when I said that, even if I was drunk,” Seungmin admits. It aches Hyunjin’s heart how Seungmin knows exactly what he’s referring to.

They stay like that for longer than necessary, yet not nearly long enough. It won’t ever be enough. No amount of time is enough.

Hyunjin cries himself to sleep that night.

He’s leaving in another two days, and he should be over the moon. He’s getting out. He’s making it. He’s escaping.

Escaping the house that’s never been a home. The judging faces of kids his age who can’t do anything but gossip and spread rumors. The depressing town center that’s getting closer to its inevitable death with each day.

Escaping the closeness of nature. The forests and the fields he’s walked more times than he can count. Sanghee’s café. The grounds where he learned who he is, where he accepted himself. Where he fell in love. Where he experienced his first heartbreak.

It’s all he’s ever wanted. He should be grateful.

Yet he isn’t.

Chapter Text

Settling into university proves to be difficult.

It’s a fresh start, Hyunjin tells himself. Everything has changed, and maybe that’s for the better. He can start his new life knowing who he is. He’s not going to let anything hold him back; he’s going to leave his youth behind, leave the old version of himself behind. It’ll stay trapped in the prison that Hyunjin made it out of.

He will take on the new challenges university throws his way, and he’s determined to stay strong.

He’s not the kid he used to be. Not the kid that needs to lie down on the floor in the face of problems. Not the kid that hugs his plushies at night to hold onto his innocence and childhood for one more night.

Daejeon is everything his hometown isn’t. Full of life. Swarmed with people. Holding no memories.

A clean slate.

Hyunjin is going to find his place, find himself. He doesn’t need Seungmin for that, he’s on his own and he can manage.

Or so he hopes.

He tries to connect, tries to form new friendships. Only it feels impossible when he still seeks out Seungmin even when there’s an ocean keeping them apart.

Despite himself, he seeks out Seungmin’s smile. Seeks out his puppy eyes. Seeks out his wittiness and his stupidly smart brain.

At the end of the day, he only finds what he’s searching for from the other end of the screen when Seungmin calls him. He always calls Hyunjin when he wakes up, when Hyunjin is winding down from his day.

Hyunjin calls him when he wakes up, too.

He’s always met with Seungmin relaxing over a cup of tea or hot chocolate, in some pair of sweats, sitting on his bed, sometimes studying, sometimes watching a movie.

It’s a routine for them. A routine Hyunjin finds immense comfort in. Despite Seungmin being far away, it feels like he’s close. Like this is temporary, as if it were a vacation Seungmin is taking. Hyunjin doesn’t want the reality to ever settle in.

When Seungmin asks him how he’s adjusting, Hyunjin lies.

Yeah, the people are really nice! I love the city, I already feel at home here.

It’s a big fat lie. Hyunjin is homesick, his past holding a death grip on him. He’s dying to go back to the house that never felt like a home. Dying to taste the hot chocolate Sanghee makes, dying to see the stars from a field again.

He’d give anything to go back.

He can’t even see the stars in the city.

At least the city gives him something to explore. Putting on his headphones, listening to music, wandering for hours without a destination. It’s relieving. Escapism, just like binging romcoms is.

He takes up a project to find the best hot chocolate in the city, simply because he can.

It’s a long-haul one. The coffee shops are endless, but Hyunjin’s got time. Time is all he has now anyway, even after it’s run out.

In addition to searching for Seungmin everywhere he goes, Hyunjin looks for familiarity. Rewatches the dramas he fell in love with as a kid. Paints portraits of himself in the past, portraits that hold childlike joy.

He doesn’t acknowledge it, but as he tries to let go of the past that has a death grip on him, he chases for glimpses of it.

Chases for the taste, the feeling of hot chocolate.

Time flies by. Hyunjin tries one coffee shop after another. Paints another portrait. Goes on another walk in the city.

He can only reminisce. Yearn, long for what he deep down hopes he can regain one day.

Memories are all that run through his mind. They’re growing more distant. Hyunjin isn’t sure whether he prefers it that way or not. Whether he should lock them up in a box to preserve them or banish them, prohibit them from ever piercing a needle through his heart again.

Nothing tastes like Sanghee’s hot chocolate does. Nothing brings him the warmth he’s searching for. Not even home-made hot chocolate on a cold winter day. The air doesn’t smell like it once did. The study sessions with the friends he’s made at university only bring him more dread—they don’t come with the de-stressing effect the ones with his old friends did.

No friendship he’s made comes close to the one he has with Seungmin.

Or had with Seungmin.

The calls haven’t been daily in months. Hyunjin isn’t surprised, he only feels desolate.

It’s mostly texts now, with the occasional good morning and good night, with the weekly longer talks about how the other’s week has been.

Hyunjin knows they’re drifting apart. He can see it happening, right before his eyes. He saw it coming from the moment Seungmin left. The conversations are more superficial. Idle talk. Seungmin is stressed over exams. Hyunjin went to a party he doesn’t say he hated. Seungmin got braces. Hyunjin watched a new drama.

Seungmin isn’t coming back to Korea after freshman year—he got a summer job at a clinic in New Jersey. His life is nowhere near Hyunjin anymore.

It’s happened too fast. Hyunjin can’t process it.

When he visits home during summer, he spends the entirety of the two weeks in a haze. The mist formed by the memories hovers over him.

A piece of his heart shatters when he visits Haeyeon. Haeyeon, who offers him cookies and hot chocolate. Haeyeon, who tells him Seungmin has started seeing someone. Haeyeon, who tells Hyunjin she’s moving to Seoul.

Hyunjin doesn’t have hope of seeing Seungmin next summer either.

He climbs up the ladder to the treehouse. Just to see the inside again. Just to relive the last time he was there. When it was pouring rain outside. When he first kissed Seungmin.

He starts checking Seungmin’s Instagram account compulsively. No pictures with a partner ever appear.

By the time the first semester of sophomore year ends, they only text once a month. At best. And it’s only getting less frequent as time passes.

Hey Hyunjin! How are you doing? I feel like we haven’t talked in ages, I’ve been so busy.

Hyunjin is stuck in quicksand. He knows struggling only makes him sink faster, so he doesn’t fight it.

Maybe he’s getting over Seungmin. Accepting the fact he’ll never get Seungmin back. Watching him drift away, farther and farther. The acceptance doesn’t alleviate the hurt of it.

He’s lonely. Longs for the life he’s never getting back. For the late night walks in the woods. For the ability to dream, even for one more day.

He has friends. They’re not Seungmin. They’re not Jeongin or Changbin either. They’re not like any of his old friends.

He misses them. So much his already broken heart is shattering into pieces over and over again until it’s dust.

The information he gets about how his old friends are doing comes from stalking their Instagram accounts. Chan lives in Japan. Jeongin is studying engineering in Seoul. Minho is a background dancer for some idol group. Felix is doing charity work in Laos. Jisung seems to be living the perfect university life. Changbin never posts anything.

It’s the highlight of his year Jisung initiates a conversation in their group chat. Hyunjin gladly spends the entire night cracking jokes, sent back to the past for one night. Latching onto every quip Seungmin makes, debating calling him up.

Ultimately, Hyunjin doesn’t.

He doubts he’ll ever see his friends again.

Hyunjin has tried dating, he’s tried hooking up left and right. For the sake of the experience, to chase after the feeling that’s had him under its influence for years. And the influence is wearing off.

He only cries over Seungmin whenever he ends up sucked into making art, the ache that he’s buried somewhere deep down surfacing involuntarily and painting the canvas a nostalgic blue.

He’s not sure how it happens, but he ends up gaining a fuck buddy from a guy in his friend group, Sangwon. Hyunjin is content in their arrangement. When all his attempted relationships in the past year have always fallen apart due to his inability to get emotionally involved, it’s nice to experience some type of affection, even when it’ll never be enough.

Enough.

Hyunjin thinks nothing will ever be enough. Not when no one kisses him the way Seungmin kissed him all those years ago. Not when no one brings him the same sense of warmth in his stomach even the thinking of Seungmin still does.

Why did Hyunjin ever fall in love so deep? He’s in so deep he thinks he can’t ever make it back to the surface from the bottom. So deep he might never love anyone the way he loves Seungmin.

First love, first heartbreak.

Sometimes Hyunjin thinks Seungmin will be his last.

Before junior year starts, he goes to Japan with his friend group. It’s nice seeing places, though it fails to meet the expectations of the optimistic and lively spirit of a kid that still lives within him.

The spirit that still, to its core, has hope for traveling the world one day with Seungmin by his side.

As a lover, as a friend. Either or. It wouldn’t matter.

Hyunjin would bleed himself dry to have Seungmin in his life again. To see his smile with his own eyes again.

He still sleeps with Jiniret in his arms. Wonders if Seungmin does the same with PuppyM—though chances are he has the plushie discarded in a box somewhere.

Being friends with benefits always backfires. Sangwon ends up drunk confessing his feelings for Hyunjin right before Christmas, and that’s the end of that. Luckily, Sangwon is a decent guy. Hyunjin gives him the distance he needs, and things don’t get painfully awkward.

Nevertheless, it poses a problem for Hyunjin, too. Sex as a distraction works impossibly well, so now that the comfort of it is gone, he can’t help but spend the little free time he gets from his studies by reminiscing.

It’s ridiculous. It’s been years, why are all the remaining fractions of his heart still caught up on a stupid teenage crush?

Still desperately clinging onto the hope of maybe, maybe getting another chance. Maybe some divine power akin to fate is stringing him to Seungmin, is bound to make them cross paths again.

Hyunjin wants to believe in it. Deep down, he does.

A hopeless romantic can only ever love hopelessly. Stay hopelessly devoted, regardless of rationality begging for things to change.

A hopeless romantic can only ever hold onto the insignificant possibility of fate stringing them to their lover.

Hyunjin is one to his core. Hopelessly so.

He stops trying to search for a relationship. Accepts that even after being apart from Seungmin for years, he’s still knee-deep in love.

First love, last love.

Hyunjin knows he’ll take the love to his grave.

He goes home for Christmas. Drinks copious amounts of the hot chocolate Sanghee’s café serves. She’s happy to see him. They even talk about town gossip for what feels like hours.

After scrolling through Seungmin’s Instagram account more times than is healthy for him, after staring at their latest text messages from four months ago, Hyunjin wishes Seungmin a merry Christmas.

He wants to call him. Just to see his face again, just to hear his voice again.

But he doesn’t.

Seungmin replies when Hyunjin is going to sleep.

Hyunjin stares at the message longer than he should. His fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitant.

Does Seungmin think about Hyunjin a portion of how much Hyunjin thinks about him? Does Seungmin long for the past half as much as he does?

Is Seungmin happy? Is Manhattan as marvelous as they pictured it at thirteen? Has he traveled?

Where is he right now?

Hyunjin doesn’t know, and he aches.

He types out a message. Erases it. Types another. Erases it again. And the circle goes on.

He misses Seungmin. He never knew a person was capable of missing someone so much it feels worse than any imaginable physical pain. It hurts. Everywhere. Does Seungmin remember what they promised to each other? Seeing the wonders of the world, staying friends forever. Making it out of their hometown that’s on the brink of death. Together. Staying by one another’s side no matter what. No distance or time was supposed to come between them. Ever.

He loves Seungmin. It makes no sense he does, it makes no sense how he thinks he loves Seungmin more now than ever.

By the end of it, the circle finally breaks. Hyunjin is left sobbing with puffy eyes and an entire essay ready for him to press send on.

It reads everything. Contains every thought Hyunjin has ever come across, every bit and piece of love he feels. From hot chocolate to water dripping down his arms when the ice melts, when the time runs out.

Hyunjin erases the message and goes to sleep.

Years have gone by and Hyunjin is still frozen in time. He supposes a part of him will always stay behind, stuck right in front of Seungmin’s house. Right where Seungmin left him.

Why can’t he move on?

Partying doesn’t help. Journaling doesn’t help. Casual sex doesn’t help. Burying himself in studies doesn’t help.

He still does it all. Tries to alleviate the pain he’s gotten so used to he doesn’t even remember what life without it feels like. Tries to fill the hole that cannot be patched.

His friends help. He’s told them all about Seungmin, and he’s grateful none of them condemn him for how pathetic he is.

Despite having pure intentions, his friends fucking suck at giving advice.

Book a flight to New York, go get your man!

Block his number, you need to forget about him.

Just call him, your friendship isn’t lost yet.

Tell him how you feel, getting closure helps.

So, yeah. Bad advice. Hyunjin won’t listen to any of it, let alone act on it.

Except he gets too drunk when they’re hanging at one of his friend’s apartment, playing games and drinking wine.

It takes one bottle to start searching for flights. What if he shows up behind Seungmin’s door, surprises him, makes it a grand romantic gesture that rivals all romcoms he’s ever watched?

Maybe it would be pouring rain. Seungmin would be shocked, yell at Hyunjin for doing something so reckless. Hyunjin would only smile, let Seungmin work through the shock before confessing his love. Seungmin would shed a tear or two, tell Hyunjin the only reason he didn’t try harder to retain their friendship was because it would have hurt too much, because really, Seungmin has always loved him too.

They’d kiss on the doorstep of Seungmin’s apartment complex, letting the rain soak them thoroughly.

“Hyunjin, you’re not seriously about to hop on a plane to New York, are you?” wonders one of his friends after seeing his laptop screen, which snaps Hyunjin out of it.

He’s quick to admit defeat, and resorts to pouring more wine down his throat.

After another bottle, he’s not thinking anymore.

Letting the impulses get the best of him, Hyunjin goes outside—he says he’ll go get some fresh air—finds a quiet alleyway, and calls Seungmin.

It’s a bad decision. Borders on the worst of his life.

But when Seungmin picks up after three rings of the line, it becomes the best decision of Hyunjin’s life. For now.

“Hyunjin?”

He almost breaks out into tears at the sound of Seungmin’s voice.

“So you do still remember me,” Hyunjin breathes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He closes his eyes, slumps down backwards to lean against a wall.

Silence. Hyunjin can hear him breathing. He missed that too.

“Why would I not remember you?”

Hyunjin hums, lilting. “I don’t know. I just thought— I remember everything about you. You’re very memorable, Seungminnie.” He’s slurring his words, speaking at a rather slow pace.

Seungmin chuckles. Hyunjin feels like crying from how much he missed hearing the sound of Seungmin’s laugh.

“Are you drunk?”

“Mmm, very. Drank two bottles of wine. It was yummy.”

“Alright then,” Seungmin laughs again. “Are you okay? Not feeling like everything hates you?”

After all this time, Seungmin is still the same. Remembers Hyunjin’s worst enemy (read; everything hates me -drunk), is concerned for him.

“You remember that.”

“Of course I do.”

The line goes quiet. Hyunjin’s smile falls from his face. “What about—” hiccup, “the promise we made?”

A few beats of silence. Hyunjin hears Seungmin swallowing.

“Which one?”

“We were supposed to stay friends forever. We were—” Hyunjin’s eyes are burning all of a sudden, and he might be nearing the point where everything hates him, “We were supposed to travel the world together. Will we ever do that, Minnie? Is it too late? Do you remember that?”

“I don’t— I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if we will or you don’t know if you remember?”

Silence. Hyunjin knows this was the worst decision of his life.

“Cause I remember. I remember everything. I still remember how your hair smells, I remember how you always made me feel better when I was down, I remember how we had dreams. We were— we were supposed to do everything together…” Hyunjin pauses. His head feels heavy and his chest is tight. “And I still remember… how it feels when you—”

He stops himself mid-sentence, sucking in a breath before he can let it slip how he still thinks about the times they kissed.

“Hyunjin…”

“I’m sorry I need to go.”

He hangs up, blocks Seungmin’s number, goes back inside and locks himself in the bathroom so he can cry.

Hyunjin finds the courage to unblock Seungmin almost a week later. It’s humiliating when he comes up with a half-assed excuse.

He blacked out. Doesn’t even remember anything about their call, let alone blocking Seungmin. He only found out today when he was going to message Seungmin, ask him how he’s been doing.

For the first time in his life, Hyunjin is grateful Seungmin is in another continent.

The excuse shouldn’t work, but Seungmin doesn’t question it. Hyunjin takes what he can get and wills himself to forget all about his drunk dialing.

It’s easier when Hyunjin’s message sparks a conversation. Seungmin tells him how his studies are going, tells him about a failed relationship. Explains how he’s been to ten different states since moving to the US. He’s planning on traveling to California next.

Seungmin says they should meet up the next time he visits his mother. Hyunjin tastes the familiar hot chocolate on his tongue for the first time in Daejeon. He feels the warmth he’s been searching for.

Maybe it’s not a lost cause after all.

Maybe.

It is a lost cause.

Hyunjin doesn’t hear from Seungmin again.

Doesn’t hear from him during summer. Not when the leaves turn brown. Not when Christmas comes and goes.

Not even when he gets his degree and graduates.

Hyunjin learns to let go, but not forget.

Never forget.

He’s taking the love to his grave and he knows it. It happens subconsciously, but he makes amends. He comes to a mutual agreement with the part of him that never stops yearning for Seungmin. For the one he loves, for the one he’ll always love.

It keeps its head low enough to grant Hyunjin peace.

He feels peaceful when he sees Seungmin’s Instagram post about finishing medical school. Peaceful as he comments a congrats with two exclamation marks.

He stays in Daejeon for the first half of summer. Works a job as a bartender while his friends go their own ways, following their paths and chasing their dreams. Hyunjin doesn’t expect to see them again. He knows better this time.

He’s reached the stage of acceptance concerning everything.

Concerning Seungmin. Concerning who he is. Concerning who he will and won’t become.

Hyunjin was never made for big things, anyway.

And he’s not made for living in the city. Not when it’s just him.

He misses nature. He misses the woods, the fields and the stars. He misses home, and it’s when he’s moving back to his mother’s house that he accepts it is his home. The closest thing to a home he can get his hands on, at least.

Maybe he’s always been destined to return there. To the town he’s despised all his life, to the town he somehow finds himself calling home after all.

Destined to rot away his life, working a minimum wage job, witnessing his former friends’ achievements through social media. Days blending together. Trying to make extra cash selling paintings. Helping his mother around the house.

It’s all he finds comfort in. All he needs, all he’ll have to settle on.

Because Hyunjin’s life has turned out not to be so marvelous after all.

They say one might have a gut feeling when things are about to change. Their stomach might be twisting in a mixture of anticipation and horror, the two blending in together so they can’t even be distinguished from one another. There might be something bubbling in one’s chest, something that shoots chilly and flaming waves all over their body.

Or the day can start off just like any other, only there’s something at the back of one’s mind, a feeling. A feeling of something being different.

When Hyunjin wakes up at three in the afternoon, the sun is shining as he draws his curtains open. He had a dream. He doesn’t remember what it was about, but he remembers the comfort of something distantly familiar.

When he has his morning—afternoon—coffee, he feels warmth pooling in his abdomen. It’s going to be a good day.

It’s the anniversary of him working at the bar, which means his boss is generous enough to let him end his shift at two in the morning instead of having him work until closing time.

He offered to work the entire night anyway, of course. His sleep schedule has been fucked for the entire year he’s worked there, and it’s not like he has anything better to do. His boss, however, refused his offer.

Maybe he’ll go take a night walk. Explore an abandoned house. Visit the treehouse in the backyard of the house next door; it’s been empty ever since Haeyeon moved out, and Hyunjin doesn’t even know if anyone owns it.

Or maybe he’ll stay anyway, only not to work but to get absolutely shit-faced.

He’ll have to see.

There’s another artist throwing a gig, so it’s busy even for a Friday night.

Hyunjin crafts up drink after drink. It’s a practiced routine that comes easy for him. Throwing in the ice, pouring the liquids without measuring shit.

Right before the artist is set to come and perform, the majority of people have gathered up in front of the stage that stands on the opposite side of the place from the counter Hyunjin works. It’s mostly empty—the bar counter—the side of the bar opening up before Hyunjin’s eyes only filled with a handful of people—the middle-aged regulars who couldn’t give a shit about the artist if they tried and simply want to enjoy their beer.

Hyunjin’s coworker, Yubin, who’s working behind the counter with him, says she’ll let him manage this side on his own. There are barely any people anyway, all of them probably squeezed together in a crammed crowd at the other end, jumping up and down to the music the artist is playing.

It’s then when a familiar face comes up to the counter.

Kyunghan.

“And we meet again, Hyunjin-ssi.”

Hyunjin laughs. “Your friend dragging you here again?”

“You know it,” Kyunghan sighs. “Busy night?”

“Well, you know, the usual Friday night with a gig. It’s not too bad. What about you? Dying to get out of here yet?”

“Nah, not yet. Mind if I entertain you for some time?”

Hyunjin, in fact, does not mind.

They fall into comfortable conversation as Kyunghan starts explaining about some drama going on with his friends. An ex of a friend of his had approached another one of his friends, resulting in a cold war among their group.

Listening to the dramatics, Hyunjin is glad the biggest drama he’s ever been involved in was resolved rather quickly; Sangwon’s feelings for him never ended up stirring problems.

The minutes fly by, Kyunghan’s stories sucking Hyunjin into them.

Though happy over never having been caught between two fires like Kyunghan appears to be, the stories evoke a deep longing inside Hyunjin. The longing that’s never really left him.

Will he ever have friends like he once did?

Will he ever laugh the way he once used to?

The chances are slim, but Hyunjin’s accepted it.

“Hey, Hyunjin!” Yubin comes up to him, interrupting his conversation with Kyunghan.

He’s pouring a Martini, doesn’t have the chance to look up at her as he hums to urge her to go on.

“Someone was asking for you— I thought I’d come ask you if you knew this person just in case you’re being stalked or something.”

Someone asking for him?

Hyunjin’s brows knit together, frown lines forming between them. He can’t come up with a single person who would ever come look for him at his workplace no matter how he tries. Not when every person he can consider something short of a friend works there too, not when not a single soul he knows lives anywhere near the area.

He cranes his head to look at Yubin. “Who is it?”

It happens in a split moment.

One second Hyunjin is the version of himself he’s grown into; accepted he’s fated to settle for less, long ago having adjusted to the life he lives, all the dreams and aspirations sucked out of him.

The next he’s a teenager again.

A teenager desperately in love the second his gaze lands on the figure whose puppy eyes are scanning the room, searching; whose overgrown brown hair falls over his eyes; whose hand is gripping the lapel of his gray blazer.

“Oh, he said his name was—”

“Seungmin.”

Earth stops rotating. All sounds fade into background noise. Tunnel vision. Hyunjin can only hear his own heartbeat, only see the face of the man he’s been in love with for the better part of a decade.

Hyunjin wants to believe his eyes aren’t deceiving him. Wants to believe his knees aren’t giving out for no reason.

The wandering eyes meet his. Hyunjin sees the smile he’s missed for years.

Seungmin is here.

He thinks he’s dreaming, yet lets himself believe it really is Seungmin standing right across the room from him for the first time in years. Lets the love start blooming again—though it was never really gone to begin with. He doesn’t resist the tug he feels at the corners of his mouth.

Hyunjin lets himself be a teenager in love again.

He can’t do anything else when the sight of Seungmin, his glowing eyes, his smile, the crinkled skin at the corners of his eyes, erases the barrier between them that’s formed during the past years.

He ignores everything, lets everyone stare as he leaps to close the distance, eyes not darting away from Seungmin’s face for a split second.

He looks the same, yet like an entirely new person. The childhood features have morphed into mature ones. His shoulders seem broader. He’s got a hint of smudged eyeliner circling his eyes.

When Seungmin meets him halfway, Hyunjin doesn’t waste a second before wrapping his arms around him. It’s like coming home. Tasting hot chocolate for the first time in his life.

Seungmin is here. In Hyunjin’s arms, embracing him like he missed Hyunjin half as much as Hyunjin missed him.

Hyunjin feels the warmth. The warmth spreading within him, overtaking all his cells. He feels Seungmin’s body heat as he pulls Hyunjin closer. It makes him feel like crying.

It’s easy to bury his face into the crook of Seungmin’s neck. He smells like adolescence, like home, like all the dreams Hyunjin has buried six feet under years ago.

”What the fuck?” he breathes out, shaky, closing his eyes tightly shut. Maybe if he pinched himself he’d wake up from his bed. Realize it’s nothing but a mere dream. Realize he was correct to assume he’d never see Seungmin again.

But as Seungmin hugs him tight, runs his hand down Hyunjin’s back ever so slowly, Hyunjin feels alive and he feels alert in a way he hasn’t felt in years. It makes tears form at the corners of his eyes.

“What the fuck, Seungmin, how…” he stammers, only to trail off, and is met with a laugh he hasn’t heard in years.

Seungmin’s laugh, quiet and just as comforting as it always used to be. It sounds surreal in Hyunjin’s ears. “Well that’s one way to say hello. As eloquent as ever, Hyunjinnie.”

His name rolling off Seungmin’s tongue does things to Hyunjin. He’s close to getting overwhelmed, unable to think clearly, not processing a thing happening around him if it doesn’t concern Seungmin.

“No, but—” Hyunjin pulls his face away from Seungmin’s shoulder, only enough to look him in the eye. His arms stay put, and like this, it would be so easy to let his eyes flicker down and—

No.

“How are you here, I— I haven’t heard from you in years and now you’re here and—” His eyes are glazed and wide, Seungmin’s so very soft as they retain eye contact. Hyunjin still can’t quite wrap his head around any of it. Despite his hands on Seungmin’s very real body, Hyunjin can’t grasp it being real.

“I’m uh—” Seungmin averts his eyes, only for a brief moment, his smile faint, “Visiting.”

Visiting who is the question Hyunjin doesn’t voice.

“I—” he blinks, not even realizing how close he’s holding Seungmin. Seungmin, however, shows no signs of wishing to create distance either. “Visiting the ninth circle of hell this bar is?” he chokes a laugh.

“I mean— I was uh… I went looking for you,” Seungmin admits, his eyes finding his feet as his hands fall back to his sides, sliding down along Hyunjin’s body for a brief second. The touch lingers, has Hyunjin burning and questioning his existence. Questioning Seungmin’s existence.

“Looking for me?”

“Yeah… I got off my plane, took a train and then I was knocking on your door, ‘cause based on your Instagram posts and stories I figured you were living somewhere there again— Your mom told me you were working here and… here I am,” Seungmin speeds through his explanation, eyes flickering between the floor and Hyunjin’s face.

Hyunjin thinks he might pass out.

“Why didn’t you say something if you were coming? Call me, text me?” The questions are endless. Hyunjin sounds frantic even in his own ears.

Seungmin looks sheepish when he chuckles. “Wanted to surprise you. I guess.”

Hyunjin’s eyes grow ever so fond. He wouldn’t be surprised to find out he was wearing heart-shaped, rose colored glasses. Though maybe it’s seeing Seungmin that raises those glasses over his eyes. He looks at Seungmin through a lens of love, a lens that’s like a portal to the past.

”I can’t believe you’re here…” he mouths, all sound that escapes his lips merely leveling with an exhale in terms of volume.

He’s no longer blinking, eyes on the verge of watering with how blinding Seungmin’s sweet smile is. He looks more handsome than ever. His smooth looking skin, the beautiful curve of his nose, his soft features that Hyunjin has always thought to be the most ethereal in the world.

He still wants to kiss Seungmin as badly as he always has.

“Hyunjin get your ass over here!” screams Yubin, bursting the bubble. “Everyone’s gonna be coming here for drinks in two minutes, you’ve got time for that shit later.”

“Right, yeah…” Hyunjin mumbles, his eyes falling shut as he lets out a heavy sigh. The fact that he, indeed, is still working has managed to slip away from him completely.

“Uh—” Seungmin swallows, “What time do you get off?”

“Two.”

Seungmin’s eyes are as adorable as ever, widened ever so slightly, maybe in anticipation, but then again, what does Hyunjin know? Seungmin has always been difficult to read, as opposed to Hyunjin who’s an open book most of the time. It’s even more difficult now that Hyunjin doesn’t even know if he knows half of the person Seungmin has become. “Can I get a beer, then?”

Hyunjin feels his heart skip a beat. Two, even. Maybe more. He has no idea what a sinus rhythm is anymore.

“Okay.”

So Hyunjin pours him a drink. Seungmin’s touch lingers against his knuckles when Hyunjin hands him the cup. The eye contact they share is hypnotizing, and Hyunjin almost gets lost in the puppy eyes he loves with all his broken heart.

The heart which the half of still rests somewhere in Seungmin’s pocket.

Hyunjin feels more than he has in years now that the pieces are an arm’s reach from each other again.

“I’ll go wait over there. You go ahead and finish your shift,” Seungmin smiles. His free hand touches Hyunjin’s upper arm, and Hyunjin barely refrains from falling down on his knees. He thinks they’ll give out any second now.

His gaze follows after when Seungmin walks up to a free table. Never has Hyunjin felt this entranced in his life. He counts his breaths, wills himself to stay focused for another hour. If anything, at least he has time to compose himself.

“Dude—” Kyunghan, who still sits at the counter, breaks Hyunjin out of his daze. “Is that— who I think it is?”

Right. That. Kyunghan knows.

Hyunjin wishes his face isn’t flushed thoroughly red when he steals a glance at Seungmin. He considers falling on his knees and begging it isn’t the case when Seungmin’s eyes meet his from across the room.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin admits, averting his eyes and meeting Kyunghan’s sly smile and the quirk of his eyebrow. “It is.”

“Told ya. Fate.”

Hyunjin can’t bite back his smile no matter how he tries. And he does try; he’s bending over backwards to act normal.

He doesn’t know what this means. What it means for Seungmin to stalk his Instagram account and go knocking on the door of his childhood home to find him without sending him one text as a warning.

He doesn’t know why Seungmin is here. If Seungmin is going back to the States in the span of a mere few days. If he’s here to stay.

But it doesn’t matter.

What Hyunjin does know is that Seungmin is right across the room.

Breathing the same oxygen Hyunjin is, sharing the same air within the same walls.

When he gets off work, Hyunjin bids Kyunghan a good night, Yubin a peaceful rest of her shift, clocks out, and aims for Seungmin the same second.

“So—” he starts, but Seungmin cuts him off.

“Are you driving?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we get out of here?”

Hyunjin blinks. “Sure.” He can’t come up with a scenario they’re heading towards for the life of him, but whatever Seungmin has in mind, Hyunjin will agree to anything without a second thought.

Even after all these years, he’d still follow Seungmin anywhere.

“Wait—” Hyunjin pauses as they’re headed for the exit. “How’d you even get here?” Public transport isn’t a luxury their hometown offers.

“I, uh… Hitched a ride.”

“Wow… New York changed you,” Hyunjin laughs, “I thought that was too dangerous.”

“Actually— It was Sanghee who dropped me off.”

Hyunjin all but chokes. “Sanghee? At this time of the night?”

“No, no,” Seungmin shakes his head. His eyes are glued to his feet once again, and it’s bordering on bizarre. Seungmin never used to be like that—evasive, hesitant. “I went to her café before it closed, sat around there for some time. We left after eight.”

Hyunjin looks at him with his brows furrowed. “Eight? What, so— what were you doing before coming in?”

“It doesn’t matter. I walked.”

Something about Seungmin feels different. Like there’s a layer of him Hyunjin has never seen before. It makes sense. It’s been five years since they last saw each other, of course he’s not the same person he was at eighteen.

Just because Hyunjin is still stuck, stuck in time, as the person he was when his heart was still intact, doesn’t mean Seungmin is alike.

It’s quiet as they exit the bar. The stars shine bright, the air is cool yet gentle against Hyunjin’s skin.

“I missed the stars,” Seungmin breathes right as Hyunjin unlocks the doors to the car he’s driving. It’s not even his but his mother’s.

“Yeah. I felt the same when I got back.”

All too many things to say spin around Hyunjin’s mind. All too many words and not enough courage to voice any of them.

Hyunjin starts the car, Seungmin shuts the door after he gets inside.

He glances at his right. “Where we going?”

Seungmin sucks in a breath, leans forward to look out the windshield. “Are you tired? Do you need to go straight to sleep?”

“Tired?” Hyunjin snorts, “I’m not gonna be tired for another four hours.”

Their eyes meet. Hyunjin feels dizzy. “Then let’s go home.”

Home.

Hyunjin puts music on. The same songs he listened to at seventeen. Then again at twenty when he desperately wished to travel back to the past. He hits the gas and drives off.

They stay silent. Hyunjin can’t help but feel his heart at the back of his throat, can’t help but steal glances at his right. At his right, where Seungmin keeps stealing glances exactly alike, something relentless flashing in his eyes.

All his thoughts circle around Seungmin.

“Have you, uh— been in contact with the others?” Seungmin is the one who breaks the silence halfway into the drive.

“Not… really, no. I mean, you’ve been a part of the conversations in the group chat, so, that’s most of it. Every now and then someone’s asked me how I’m doing, but… I’ve only seen Changbin hyung. Once.”

“Oh. When was that?”

“Last year. He came here to visit his parents.”

“They still live here?”

“Yeah, only his parents do. All the others have moved away at some point.”

Seungmin hums. Hyunjin wills his eyes to stay focused on the road.

“How’s he doing?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve been following any of the news here, but—”

“The company.” Hyunjin can tell Seungmin is smiling from his voice. “Yeah, I’ve heard. It’s huge.”

“Hm. I knew he’d do something big one day,” Hyunjin sighs, wistful. He’s grinning in no time though. “Oh, and he’s getting married.”

“Married?” Seungmin laughs, a warm laugh. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I know, but— You’ll never guess who he’s marrying.”

“Someone I’d know?”

“Someone you definitely know.”

Silence, only for a beat. “It’s not you, is it?”

“Pretty close, actually. It’s Felix.”

When Hyunjin takes a peek at Seungmin’s face, he can’t help but smile. He’s slack-jawed, his eyes are bugging out. As adorable as ever. Hyunjin’s heart swells.

“No fucking way, you’re bullshitting me.”

“I’m fully not, though,” Hyunjin laughs. Laughs brighter than he’s laughed in years.

“Wow, holy shit. Talk about the red thread of fate.”

Hyunjin hums. The conversation is over with that. Silence fills the car for the rest of the ride as Hyunjin’s thoughts cycle around and around. Seungmin. The red thread of fate. Seungmin. Seungmin, sitting so close yet feeling so distant.

The cycle has never felt so vicious.

Once Hyunjin parks the car in front of his home, the circle is yet to be unbroken.

“So—”

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Hyunjin doesn’t need to be asked twice.

The silence stretches out as they walk through the woods, along the paths they used to walk all those years ago.

There’s something poetic about it. What goes around, comes around.

Hyunjin would feel his chest tightening if it weren’t for the love he’s drowning in. It’s omnipotent, all encompassing. Seungmin right by his side, jolts shooting down Hyunjin’s spine with every look they share.

“God… It’s like nothing’s changed,” Seungmin sighs, his wandering gaze glassy as he takes in the view.

“Yeah, I guess.” They’re circling around the field Hyunjin has visited more times during the past year than during all his teenage years combined.

“Even though nothing’s the same, this place… I feel like it’s frozen in time.”

Frozen in time, just like Hyunjin. He hums, considers his options, and decides to voice one of the questions gnawing at the back of his mind. “How long will you stay here?” 

“I don’t know.”

Seungmin gives him nothing. Nothing with his words, nothing with his body language. He’s right there, but he feels distant.

”You don’t know?”

And then, Seungmin starts giving him everything.

”I don’t know, no. I don’t know where I’ll go from here and when I’ll go. That depends.”

”Depends? On what?”

”On a couple of things. On how I’ll say it, on how it comes out…”

Hyunjin blinks. His legs take on a route leading them away from the woods. His heart races in his chest, and for a reason he can’t name, feels more whole than ever.

”Say what?”

One more beat of silence. ”I’m not going back. To New York. I terminated my lease, sold all my shit, hopped on a plane. Very last minute,” Seungmin explains, hands in his pocket. There’s an edge to his voice as he continues with a shaky huff of laughter, ”Guess I’m losing my mind to do something like that.”

”You… You’re back?”

”Well, obviously I’m back; I’m right here next to you, aren’t I?”

Seungmin is still the same. Making Hyunjin laugh, hot chocolate tasting on his tongue.

”I mean—” Hyunjin wills himself to specify after wiping the grin from his face. “For good, I guess. Not here, obviously, I know you’d never come back here the way I did. Not after living somewhere like New York.”

”It’s not that amazing.”

”New York?”

”Yeah. All the people are superficial. Pretentious as hell. You can live there for over five years and not form one genuine friendship.”

”Oh.”

”I missed this place. It’s crazy, I never thought I’d find myself dying to come back. But I did.”

It’s heartbreaking, it’s… igniting a cold flame, it’s making Hyunjin’s breathing grow unsteady. Maybe Seungmin’s life wasn’t ever as marvelous as Hyunjin thought. As marvelous as Hyunjin dreamed his own life to be. And maybe they’re mirrors of each other, maybe they always have been.

”Yeah, I know the feeling,” Hyunjin says with a small voice, leaning closer to Seungmin to bump their shoulders together. He’s itching for more contact. Pulled towards Seungmin like an asteroid falling into a black hole.

It’s then when Seungmin’s glazed eyes find his. His smile is soft, almost to a degree Hyunjin imagines his own smile being.

Like looking into a mirror, only it’s too dark to make out clear features. The figure is there, only it lacks everything prominent about the image. The essence of it.

”I never felt like I belonged there. I kept searching for something, something I thought I’d been searching for all my life. My place in the world, myself… And I didn’t want to accept that the part of me I was searching for was something I’ve had all along. Something I was stupid enough to let go of.”

It’s hard to breathe. Something is clogging Hyunjin’s airway, or maybe something is squeezing around it, crushing it.

”I know that feeling too.”

”You do?”

He nods. ”Better than you’ll ever know.”

Despite knowing to cherish what he had when he had it, the loss of everything Hyunjin’s ever appreciated and loved in his life was far from easy. He still holds onto it all. Longs for it, thinking nothing would ever be the same.

Yet now, maybe things can get closer to being the same again. Bordering on the past, mimicking it, mirroring it. Maybe only for one night, but Hyunjin takes what he can get.

”Try me.”

He doesn’t quite get the cue, so Hyunjin blinks at Seungmin.

”Tell me about it.”

”The feeling?”

”Yeah. The feeling where nothing’s like you expected it to be. The feeling that makes you long for something you were supposed to manage without.”

”I…” Hyunjin starts, drawing in a deep breath. Of course he knows the feeling. It’s his closest friend—but the friendship is toxic, sucking the life out of him, and no matter how he wants to cut it off, he can’t.

He contemplates. Everything he’s been yearning for is close to rolling off his tongue, and now, he’s not so sure if he wants to keep it contained.

Seungmin is asking. Seungmin is listening. It’s all Hyunjin’s been dreaming of for years.

”I thought I’d be better off without everything that binds me to this place,” he starts, ultimately settling on seizing the opportunity. The opportunity of being honest, of lifting off some of the burden on his heart. “Leaving and growing to be a new person, starting fresh from a clean slate… Becoming the person I always wanted to become. I thought— that’s what leaving meant. It was supposed to mean the start of a new life, growing, moving forward, becoming who this town never allowed me to be. But it didn’t. Not when this town is a part of me, not when— when change is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever had to deal with.”

His train of thought is meandering, only picking up passengers from every other stop, but now that the motion is accelerating with no sign of slowing down, Hyunjin can’t get off.

“I always wanted to leave, wanted to get away, and I did. I got away. But it never made anything easier… All my life, getting away was all I wanted. But when it happened, I just wanted to go back. Be young and carefree for one more day.”

Wanted to have Seungmin in his life for another day. Even for a moment. It was all he’d been craving, and now Seungmin is here. An arm’s reach from Hyunjin, staring at the same night sky from his right. Just like neither of them had ever left.

Hyunjin doesn’t know if his heart is aching or swelling.

Seungmin’s eyes find his distant gaze. “You weren’t happy?”

Happy.

What is happiness, even? Chasing one’s dreams? Or finding comfort in one’s surroundings, in one’s life in the way it is? Hyunjin has tried both. Has tried every alternative, every option in-between. Nothing has ever felt like enough. There’s always been something he’s been reaching for, something he can graze but not quite catch. Something missing. Whether that be the innocence of adolescence, or a first love he never moved on from.

Maybe the happiest he’s ever felt was at eighteen. Getting drunk at some stupid house party, still having some months of blissful ignorance ahead of him. His whole life ahead, not yet having an idea of how his dreams were destined to wither and die, draining out of him with every day passing by.

The happiest he’s ever been was when there was still hope. Hope of achieving what he’d been reaching for, hope of one day living the life he’s always wanted to live.

The happiest he’s ever been was when Seungmin’s hand latched behind his neck and pulled him close. When nothing mattered, when tomorrow was one eternity away.

Tomorrow has come and gone more times than Hyunjin can count.

“No, no I wasn’t. I never was. The closest I ever got to feeling happy was when I downed a bottle of wine, put on some songs I used to listen to, imagined I was still young. But it never lasted long. I thought I needed to leave behind the old me, I guess, but the old me is who I still am. I can’t— I couldn’t ever abandon myself, it was never going to make me happy,” silence as he pauses, “It still won’t.”

Maybe the path they’re walking is too narrow, or maybe one of them almost trips on a rock, but regardless, he feels Seungmin’s hand brush against his in the space between them.

They’re almost out of the woods. Out of the black, back in the blue.

Despite doing nothing but reminiscing for the past five years, Hyunjin has never felt this reminiscent. This nostalgic. The stars have never shined so bright, never felt so familiar.

“I wasn’t happy either.”

Hyunjin’s eyes find Seungmin’s distant gaze. He sees something painful, something troubling in those eyes. It’s familiar, like looking into a mirror. “Not ever?”

“No,” Seungmin admits, huffing a soft, wistful laugh. “No, I wasn’t. Never. No matter how much I tried to be.”

Hyunjin swallows. “I— I thought you were. New York had always been our—” he cuts himself off. Not theirs. “Your dream…”

“It was. But like I said; I had everything already. I was just… too short-sighted to see it…” Seungmin trails off. Hyunjin can barely keep himself from taking his hand.

It’s quiet for another while. Hyunjin wants to open his mouth, voice those questions that he’s drowning in. He’s sinking deeper, no longer in control of his breathing, for something uncomfortable keeps straining his throat, clogging his lungs.

“And just like you said, all I wanted to do was go back, too. Get one more day where I could wake up and only have to go knocking on the door of the house next door to see you. Get another cup of hot chocolate while trying to study, try to explain something like mechanics to you. See you lose your patience when none of it made sense to you… End up dreaming about the future instead, dreaming about all the places we could travel…”

Seungmin falls quiet again, and Hyunjin doesn’t dare disrupt the silence. He’s far too lightheaded to do so anyway, so he doesn’t really have a choice. Eyes on the verge of burning, he just stares at Seungmin whose eyes refuse to meet his.

“All I wanted was another day spending time having a picnic at a field. With you. Playing more Mario Kart— cause it never even mattered that I lost every time, it didn’t matter because you always looked so—” he trails off, only for a handful of beats before he continues, “You were so happy when you kept winning, so I never cared about it, I didn’t… Didn’t mind losing if I was losing to you.”

Had Seungmin mentioned a single thing not involving Hyunjin, he would’ve remembered the oath he’s made to abide by the rules of silence. Of peace. The voice at the back of his head has granted him peace for years, but it’s breaking their truce. With every word Seungmin speaks, the voice only gets louder.

Hyunjin thinks he’s going to lose his hearing with how loud it’s getting as Seungmin keeps speaking.

“I’m sorry, Hyunjin.” His voice is quiet. Regretful. Hyunjin is going to cry. “For not trying harder to maintain our friendship. You’ve always been my best friend. No one’s ever come close to you, and I— shouldn’t have ever stopped texting you. Shouldn’t have ever let you go.”

The last sentence Seungmin speaks is barely audible in Hyunjin’s ears. Had it been spoken slightly louder, Hyunjin wouldn’t be doubting the implications. The implications of Seungmin having missed him just as much as Hyunjin has missed him.

“I never told you how much I hated my life there. All throughout college. I managed, mostly focused on studies, but— nothing was the same. I just didn’t want you to worry—because you always worry even when you don’t have to—so I never said anything.”

“I— Minnie…”

Hyunjin knows they’re mirrors of each other. He knows they always have been. Someone is casting light over the reflection, and Hyunjin wants to believe the features that shape the figure into what it is are forming right before his eyes.

”That’s why I never said anything either— I thought you were happy I didn’t want— Didn’t want you to know that life for me never was close to what I wanted it to be.”

Hyunjin has been punched right in his chest. The air’s been kicked out of his lungs, and he can only focus on his inhales, gathering all the oxygen he can get as the words get closer and closer to slipping out.

They’re out of the woods now. Walking along the street where the playground is located. It’s eerie, almost. To its core, it all feels like a dream.

Hyunjin doesn’t yet know whether he does or does not want to wake up.

”Seungmin—” he swallows, thick. ”Can I tell you something?”

When Seungmin meets his glassy eyes, Hyunjin is set ablaze. He burns as he feels Seungmin’s knuckles graze the back of his hand. It feels deliberate.

”Anything. Always.”

Hyunjin knows he’s sincere. Nothing has changed.

So he only hesitates for a moment. Braver than he was at eighteen, stronger and more determined than he’s ever been, Hyunjin won’t let the opportunity go again.

Who knows when Seungmin will be gone again? Who knows when they’ll see each other again?

Hyunjin doesn’t.

There’s only one thing he knows.

He loves Seungmin.

And that’s never going to change. The leaves will turn brown, snow will paint the ground white, their town will keep dying, time will pass. Hyunjin will move forward and become more content in letting his thirteen-year-old self down. He’ll grow old and he’ll watch people come and go.

Things will change, there’s no getting around it.

But Hyunjin will always love Seungmin.

”I— god, this is going to be so pathetic…”

”Hyun…” Seungmin’s voice is impossibly consoling in Hyunjin’s ears, “I know it’s been years but nothing’s changed. You can still tell me anything,” he says, his tone sincere like nothing truly is different.

It draws a shaky huff of laughter from Hyunjin. ”I’ll hold you up to that, then.”

He’s always known he can tell Seungmin anything. Seungmin has always been like that; he’s always made Hyunjin feel comfortable, safe. The distance the years have created is suddenly nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be sensed. Like it was never there to begin with.

From the moment Seungmin stepped inside the bar, time has been rewinding.

And despite everything having changed, it’s all still the same.

“I should’ve fought harder too. Texted you more often. I guess I didn’t do that because…” he trails off soon after getting started with a sharp inhale, taking a moment to compose himself. “When the days and weeks and months and years passed, it was getting harder to stay silent. And I’d sworn to stay silent. Take the silence to my grave. I was never going to tell you after you left, because it would’ve hurt too much. No matter the outcome, you were always going to be an ocean away from me, so—”

It’s right there in front of him. The question he answered for himself years ago before Seungmin even left.

Yet right now, the answer isn’t as certain anymore. When things never turned out like Hyunjin thought they would, he knows better than to count on his gut feeling.

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Seungmin will be gone before long.

“So when I realized I was never going to stop being in love with you, I thought it’d be easier to keep it to myself.”

It’s not as hard as Hyunjin anticipated, the words don’t strain his throat like he thought they would. It’s easy, like reciting a statement carved in stone. And that, it is.

Silence. Seungmin halts his steps, so Hyunjin does the same, meeting Seungmin’s eyes despite himself.

He can’t quite decipher the look. Unreadable, out of his reach. Seungmin’s eyebrows quirked upwards in a ghost of a frown, his lips parting ever so slowly right before Hyunjin’s eyes.

Seungmin is simultaneously right next to him and one world away. He’s both up until he speaks, gives Hyunjin the verdict, and then, he’ll only be one or the other.

Hyunjin has never understood Shrödinger’s cat like he understands it now.

Seungmin’s head tilts to the side. Hyunjin wants to count on his eyes when he thinks he sees Seungmin’s eyes turn glassy.

“Oh. Oh, Hyunjin…” He sounds breathless. Hyunjin doesn’t know what it means. What any of it means.

They’re only two streets away from home. It’ll be easy to run back there and disappear from the world, so Hyunjin feels at ease.

It won’t matter what Seungmin says. Won’t matter if he says nothing and walks away.

Hyunjin feels oddly free.

The moment of ignorance is eerily blissful.

And then, the ignorance turns into understanding.

Understanding, awareness, when Seungmin closes the distance with a hasty step. Relief, solace, when Seungmin’s hand finds the nape of his neck, pulls him close like it’s all Seungmin’s ever wanted to do.

Consolation, stability, when a faint smile paints Seungmin’s face a hue resemblant of adolescence and dreams right before their lips meet halfway in the distance between them.

Only it’s not out of consolation this time. Not the byproduct of a game of truth or dare.

It’s out of desire.

Hyunjin knows it now. Feels it now.

His body goes limp for a split second. Like he forgets he’s a living, breathing human. Seungmin’s lips are consuming him, the hold he takes of Hyunjin’s waist burning. Not yet able to reciprocate with all the desire he harbors, all too busy willing his brain not to short circuit on him now, Hyunjin stands there, chases Seungmin’s lips to no avail when the latter pulls back with glazed eyes.

“Hyun?”

“Yes?”

“Is that okay?”

“Yes,” he breathes with a fervent nod, “Please.” It comes out in a whisper against Seungmin’s lips before they crash together again.

His heart comes together as one and swells to a size it’s never been close to before. Hyunjin wraps his arms around Seungmin’s torso, pulls him impossibly close, parts his lips and lets Seungmin tongue push past the line of them.

Hungry, longing, desperate.

Two halves, together as one again. Tangled, intertwined. Begging never to be separated from one another again.

Seungmin tilts his head with two fingers, hooking them under Hyunjin’s jawline. The kiss grows deeper, Hyunjin can barely breathe. He feels Seungmin against his lips, his touch over his waist, fingers cradling the side of his face with deliberate tenderness. He’s never felt this at home.

He gets drunk on it. On Seungmin’s touch, Seungmin’s lips, Seungmin’s tongue. On the love that’s consuming him in a way it never has before.

“Min…” Hyunjin breathes, connecting their foreheads once they pull apart to catch their breaths. It’s a question as much as it’s a promise.

“I was supposed to say that first,” Seungmin huffs a soft laugh, his smile fond, his thumb rubbing over Hyunjin’s cheek in a way that makes him melt. “Can’t believe you beat me to it.”

Hyunjin can’t breathe no matter how he tries. “Say— That—”

“I love you too.”

Tone earnest and dripping with sincerity, Hyunjin knows he does. It doesn’t matter why or how long. They’ll get to that. Pick apart everything that wasn’t, everything that could have been. Everything that, maybe, finally can be.

Because Hyunjin loves Seungmin and Seungmin loves Hyunjin.

It needs to be enough.

The part of Hyunjin that’s been naive enough to believe in things like fate, the childlike hope he still harbors raises its head. Except Hyunjin knows better.

It’s not fate, it’s them. Creating their paths so they intersect once more after having diverged, having carried them in opposite directions for what feels like an eternity. It’s not fate, it’s love. Love that makes them come together again, love that makes Hyunjin hope this is no intersection to begin with, because maybe this time the paths will blend in together, become one, stay as one.

He doesn’t know, he can never know anything for sure—if there’s one thing Hyunjin has learned throughout his life, it’s that nothing is ever certain.

But right now, he doesn’t need to know. Not when Seungmin is wiping a stray tear from Hyunjin’s cheek, kissing the trail it’s left behind, holding him with all the care and love in the world.

Not when, for the first time in half a decade, Hyunjin has hope.

After finding themselves sitting on a bench at the playground, falling into what feels like the easiest conversation of Hyunjin’s life, time flies by in a way it never has before. Seungmin’s hand over Hyunjin’s thigh. Hyunjin’s eyes glowing with the reflection of Seungmin’s smile.

Seungmin tells him all about the past five years of his life. The good and the bad parts. Hyunjin does the same.

They’re savoring the moment, the atmosphere. The night that’s the most peaceful of Hyunjin’s life. It can’t not be, not when Seungmin loves him too.

“Can you crash with me or do you need your mom’s permission for that?” Seungmin jokes with a smirk on his face as they walk their home street. His hand intertwined with Hyunjin’s. Hyunjin never wants him to let go.

He resorts to ignoring the latter half of the sentence. “Crash with you?” He never got to that. Where exactly Seungmin is staying.

“My mom still owns the house. It was never sold, so… Eventually she just stopped trying to sell it.”

“She owns it?” Hyunjin breathes. Everything is the same—except brighter.

“Yeah, she does.”

“Wow. I kept wondering about that since it’s been empty for so long.”

Seungmin fishes his keys from the pocket of his slacks, hums as he turns the key on the lock. “I’m glad it was never sold.”

He drags Hyunjin inside, kicks off his shoes, doesn’t take another step further in. Simply stays there, pulls Hyunjin closer by his hand. Looks into his eyes, adoring.

“Me too,” Hyunjin breathes, sucked into a trance, flaming hot blood spiked with anticipation coursing through his veins as his gaze is drawn to Seungmin’s, like a magnet.

The flame that’s been but a mere spark, holding on for dear life not to die out is getting the heat it’s been deprived of, and now it’s consuming all of Hyunjin. He surrenders, lets himself be led further into the house as Seungmin backs up, his hand still in Hyunjin’s like he’d rather die than let go.

“Seungmin…” Hyunjin whispers, “Are you going to leave again?”

Seungmin falls onto the couch, graceful, calculated. His hand finds Hyunjin’s hip, guiding, and Hyunjin settles down onto his lap, legs caging Seungmin in.

Hyunjin can’t exactly hide the concern that’s creeping up. He can’t bring himself to attempt to do so to begin with, exhausted with hiding and hiding and hiding.

He wants anything and everything with Seungmin, but if after one night of his heart being glued back together it ends up shattered again, Hyunjin doesn’t know if staying is a smart choice.

Seungmin’s hand rises to cup his cheek. He captures Hyunjin’s lips in a languid kiss. Slow, appreciative.

“No,” he shakes his head when he pulls away, almost making Hyunjin break down in tears, “I’m not going anywhere ever again. Not if you aren’t coming with me.” His knuckles start caressing Hyunjin’s cheek, and Hyunjin melts.

He melts, and he wills himself to nod, lets his faint smile grow all the more fond. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

He feels certain when he slots their mouths together. Nostalgic when he inhales the scent of Seungmin’s body wash that’s still the same it was half a decade ago.

Hyunjin feels at home when Seungmin kisses him with more determination and want than Hyunjin’s ever been kissed with before. Full when his hands start wandering across Seungmin’s body, slipping under the hem of his shirt. Complete when Seungmin kisses his neck, teeths at the sensitive spot beside his pulse point.

“Let’s run away, Hyunjin. Together. Like we always wanted to,” Seungmin murmurs against his skin.

Hyunjin doesn’t think twice about it. When all he’s ever wanted is being offered to him on a silver platter, he can do nothing but accept it with open arms.

Running away. Getting away. Chasing his dreams with Seungmin by his side. Not as a friend, but as a lover.

“Yes.”

Seungmin pulls away from his neck, smiles sweetly in a way that makes his front teeth show. The row’s not uneven anymore.

Hyunjin returns the smile, because it’s all he can do. The emotions consuming him, too overwhelming to be put into words, he can only shift on top of Seungmin and lower their bodies onto the couch. The weight on top of him, Seungmin’s exploring hands under his shirt, Seungmin’s intoxicating smile and the reverent, enamored look in his eyes. It all has Hyunjin’s heart racing.

“We could… We could go to Paris. Then see the countryside,” Hyunjin suggests. He’s growing breathless, anticipation and heat coiling in his abdomen. He holds onto Seungmin’s shoulders, then the nape of his neck. Shoulders again, then cards his fingers through Seungmin’s hair.

Seungmin leans down to kiss him. “Mh… All the big cities,” he says as he pulls back, then leans in again, “Every single tourist attraction,” another kiss, “Every place we always wanted to travel to.” Seungmin’s smile doesn’t falter for a single second.

“Seungmin…” Hyunjin sighs when Seungmin shifts on top of him, moves his hand over Hyunjin’s thigh. Seungmin only smiles, sweet.

“I never forgot the promise we made. Not one of them.”

The hand travels up, slow, tentative, but stops when Hyunjin’s eyes fall shut.

“Neither did I,” Hyunjin wills himself to speak. He wants more, so he guides Seungmin’s hand higher. “And I never forgot the way you kissed me,” he continues, blinking his eyes open. His gaze flickers between Seungmin’s face—his glazed, fond eyes; his loving, sweet smile—and the hand he has over Seungmin’s.

“Neither did I…” The shake of Seungmin’s head is barely there. Maybe he’s in as much disbelief as Hyunjin is. And Seungmin is careful, like he’s treading on thin ice, terrified of it giving out underneath his feet.

When Hyunjin’s eyes linger in the space between their bodies, his hand itching to urge Seungmin to go higher, Seungmin kisses him again. Deeper than ever, hungrier than ever. His tongue hot as it swirls around Hyunjin’s, his fingers gently digging into the flesh of Hyunjin’s thigh.

“Hyunjinnie… Can I..?” The whisper against Hyunjin’s lips shoots shivers down his spine.

“Yes. Please?”

Seungmin doesn’t waste another second. It’s a slow pace he works all their clothes off at, tentative with every touch that drives Hyunjin completely mad. Seungmin does everything right. Treats Hyunjin with such care he makes Hyunjin feel impossibly valuable. Like nothing or no one has ever been more important to him than Hyunjin’s comfort is.

Hyunjin loves him.

He can’t help but tell Seungmin as much, over and over again.

Daeun is happy to let Hyunjin go. Let him do what he’s always wanted to do, let him go where he’s always wanted to go.

Before hopping on a train that takes them to the airport, Hyunjin takes Seungmin on one last walk. Through the field, across the abandoned train tracks that most certainly are out of use by now. To go see the premises of their old school, to visit the library one last time.

They reminisce with Sanghee, discuss the uncertain fate of their town with her over one last cup of hot chocolate. Hyunjin will miss it—though it’s always been Seungmin he associates with the taste, the feeling; Seungmin he’s missed above all.

He won’t have to miss Seungmin anymore.

When Hyunjin packs his bags, he doesn’t hesitate to show Seungmin every sketch he’s ever made. It leads to a raw conversation which ends in tears and Seungmin hugging Hyunjin close to his chest.

Jiniret and PuppyM are reunited as well. Yes, Seungmin did sleep with the plushie.

One last look inside the treehouse, one last goodbye to Daeun, and Hyunjin finally leaves his hometown behind.

Leaves the hurt behind.

Leaving home isn’t like it was at eighteen. Not when it doesn’t matter whether the world will or won’t feel as marvelous as Hyunjin’s imagined. Not when saying goodbye isn’t the end, it’s the beginning.

“We’ll figure everything out,” Seungmin presses a kiss over Hyunjin’s cheekbone as they’re sitting on the plane, as Hyunjin fidgets with the zipper of his hoodie, seemingly anxious.

A thick swallow. Hyunjin nods. “I know.”

Leaving home feels like it should.

And he’s not leaving home, not truly.

He’s taking his home with him.

His home, Seungmin, whose hold on his hand makes all his worries vanish. Seungmin, whose smile makes serenity wash over Hyunjin.

Maybe Hyunjin will never feel the way he once did, but for the first time, it doesn’t terrify him. Maybe he’ll never get back what once was, what he once had, but he doesn’t long for it. Not anymore.

Not when change isn’t the worst thing that can happen after all.

Not when he’s more keen on taking on the world with Seungmin right by his side, arms open as he waits for what will be.