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Seventeen years. Seventeen years, and Hyunjin still hadn’t figured out how to make his own life feel less muted.
Everything existed in shades of gray, an uninspired canvas he was forced to inhabit. His world—his pitiful, wretched world—was a collection of disappointments held together by unspoken words and a constant, dull ache in his chest.
At the center of that dull ache, of course, was Seungmin. His childhood best friend. The Love of his life. The Light. The Fun. The one person who could momentarily bring a splash of color.
Only now, to snatch it away.
Seungmin, who is currently locked in another one of his endless on-again, off-again sagas with Minho, the senior with an easy charisma that made everyone fall at his feet, except Hyunjin. Minho, whose arrogance made Hyunjin’s skin crawl, yet Seungmin—bless his kind, oblivious heart—seemed utterly incapable of walking away.
"He's just... complicated," Seungmin would always sigh, a familiar refrain that grated on Hyunjin's nerves.
"He's a jerk," Hyunjin would mutter under his breath, knowing his words were useless, like trying to empty the ocean with a teacup.
And then there was Jisung. Smaller in stature, but with a mouth sharper than any blade. Jisung, who seemed to derive perverse joy from prodding Hyunjin, calling him names, pushing his buttons until Hyunjin—despite himself—would snap back. Their arguments often escalated into messy, undignified scuffles that inevitably led to detention.
More time wasted, more lines on his permanent record, more reasons to hate the world.
His only real confidant at school was Felix, a kindred spirit who understood the nuances of Hyunjin’s perpetually emo state. Felix knew about his feeling for Seungmin, of course. He'd seen Hyunjin’s silent longing for years. But Felix never pushed. He just listened, offering a quiet nod or a shared, exasperated sigh.
"You'll figure it out," Felix would often say, a simple phrase that neither offered comfort nor caused more pain. It just, existed.
Home wasn't much better.
Three years ago, his dad married again after his mother died a year before, forcing Hyunjin into a reluctant cohabitation with a step-brother who felt more like a stranger. Jeongin, younger and perpetually quiet, moved through their shared space like a ghost, never initiating a conversation, never meeting Hyunjin’s gaze. They shared a roof, but not a life. The silence between them was thick, suffocating.
Sometimes, most days, Hyunjin truly hated it all. The unfairness, the quiet despair, the constant battle against a world that seemed determined to crush him.
But then, there were moments. Tiny, fragile moments, like sunbeams breaking through thick clouds. Those moments often came in the form of Chan, his English, Math, and Science tutor. A university student in his fourth semester, paid by Hyunjin's parents to shepherd both Hyunjin and Jeongin through their studies.
Chan was different. His kindness felt genuine, uncomplicated. He didn’t judge, he just understood. With Chan, Hyunjin felt a flicker of warmth, a rare sense of peace. He found himself almost looking forward to their sessions, a foreign concept in his gray existence.
But even that was fleeting. Chan was almost done. His year of tutoring was nearly over, and he had to focus on his fifth semester. Another good thing, another small comfort, about to be pulled away.
Today was his seventeenth birthday. Seventeen. Another year, another step deeper into this wretched world. He’d hoped, foolishly, perhaps, for something different. Just a little something. Maybe a small celebration, a shared cake, a simple acknowledgment from the one person who mattered most.
Felix had shuffled up to his desk this morning, handing him a manga wrapped in slightly crinkled paper. He didn’t make eye contact, just nudged the gift toward him. “Hey. It’s… you know. The thing. Today.”
“The thing?” Hyunjin looking up, finding his friend pulling a uncomfortable face.
“Your birthday, idiot,” Felix sighed, finally looking at him with tired eyes. “It’s the new volume.”
“What’s the story about?”
“I don’t really know, to be honest. But I guess it’s about a girl going into parallel world… yeah, I think so. Anyway… we should probably suffer together later? My treat.”
“Thanks, Lix,” Hyunjin had mumbled, managing a rare, small smile.
-
After school, Hyunjin notice Seungmin had been distant all day. Preoccupied. His eyes kept darting towards his phone screen with an anxiety Hyunjin knew all too well.
Then, the text came. Hyunjin saw it over Seungmin’s shoulder. A short, sharp message from Minho: “Need to talk @ my place, right now.”
Seungmin had chewed on his lip, glanced at Hyunjin, then at Felix, a silent apology in his eyes. "I... I have to go," he'd said, his voice barely a whisper. "Minho-hyung needs me."
The words sliced through Hyunjin, sharp and precise. Minho needs me. As if Hyunjin, on his own birthday, didn’t matter.
As if Hyunjin, who had waited all day just to spent the night with his most favorite person, on his special day, wasn’t enough.
“But.. it’s my birthday.. we usually hang out watching—”
“I’m sorry, Hyunjin, I’ll make up for you tomorrow. But, he needs me now. I’m sorry, I gotta go.”
And then, Seungmin run. Leaving a bitter taste in the air.
Hyunjin is mad. He wants to be mad. He is mad. God, he will burn the world so that Seungmin can’t take another step further away from him.
But, instead he let out a devastated sigh, “What spell he’s under?”
“I’m sorry.” Felix said plainly beside him, also watching Seungmin’s back dissappear after taking the next turn.
“No need. Ugh, whatever...”
The muted colors of his world drained entirely, leaving behind only stark, suffocating black. He'd gone home—ignoring the polite, almost mechanical "Happy Birthday" from his father and stepmother, and the averted gaze of Jeongin—and going straight to his room, pulling the heavy curtains shut, plunging himself into artificial darkness.
The cake his father had bought sat untouched on the kitchen counter. The manga from Felix lay forgotten on his desk. The only sound was the muffled murmur of the TV from downstairs, a distant echo of a life he wasn't part of.
Hyunjin curled up on his bed, burying his face into his pillow. The tears came, silent at first, then a ragged, choking sob that tore from his throat.
He hated Minho. He hated Seungmin for always choosing him. He hated his father, his stepmother, Jeongin, Jisung, and the entire wretched world for making him feel so incredibly small, so utterly disposable. He was seventeen, and he was alone. Completely, utterly alone.
The sobs eventually subsided, replaced by the heavy exhaustion of a heart too tired to feel anymore. He didn't bother changing. He just lay there, the dampness of his pillow a testament to his silent grief, and slowly, mercifully, drifted into a fitful sleep.
By morning, the first sensation Hyunjin feels when waking up, is warmth.
It wasn't the thin, indifferent warmth of his own comforter. This was deep, enveloping. Something was pressed firmly against his back, an arm was draped possessively over his waist, and he could feel the soft, rhythmic puff of breath against his neck.
It smells... good. It smells like baby soap and sleep and something uniquely familiar.
It smells like Seungmin.
Hyunjin’s eyes snapped open.
The light was wrong. It wasn't the familiar gray sludge of his bedroom; it was bright, golden sunlight streaming through a huge window he didn't recognize. The walls weren't covered in his torn band posters. They were painted a soft, clean white.
His heart, which had been beating calmly, gave a violent lurch.
He looked down. He realized, with a sickening jolt, that he was bare. He wasn't in his clothes. He wasn't in his room. He was naked, in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped around someone.
A strangled noise ripped from his throat.
Pure, undiluted panic seized him. He recoiled as if he’d been sleeping next to a fire, scrambling backward with such force that he completely misjudged the edge of the bed. He tumbled off, hitting the hardwood floor with a painful, ungraceful thud, the bedsheet tangling around his legs.
"Hnngh... Jinnie? What—"
The sound of his fall must waking up that person. Hyunjin looked up from the floor, his chest heaving, his mind a screaming void of white noise.
Seungmin was propped up on one elbow, his hair a soft, sleep-mussed halo in the morning light. He was also, very clearly, naked. He squinted at Hyunjin on the floor, his expression not one of shock, but of mild, sleepy annoyance.
"What are you doing? It's six-thirty," Seungmin mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "You're going to hurt yourself."
He wasn't screaming. He wasn't panicking. He was acting... normal. As if this was common occurrence.
"Seungmin," Hyunjin choked out, clutching the sheet to his chest. "What—where are we? What happened? Why are you... Why am I..."
Seungmin’s brow furrowed, his annoyance melting into genuine concern. He sat up fully, letting the comforter pool around his waist, and ran a hand through his hair. "Hey, what's wrong?"
As Seungmin got out of bed—casually, unhurriedly—Hyunjin’s eyes darted around the room, desperately trying to find a single, logical anchor point.
It was a beautiful room. An adult room. Sunlight illuminated floating dust motes. There was a sleek, dark wood dresser, a few thriving houseplants, and a full-length mirror. This wasn't a teenager's room. This wasn't his father's house.
Seungmin pulled on a soft-looking pajama shirt that had been thrown over a chair. He walked over to Hyunjin and crouched down, his face a mask of worry.
"Jinnie, are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."
"I... I don't understand," Hyunjin whispered, his gaze fixed on Seungmin's face. He looked older. Not by much, but the lingering roundness of his high school features was gone, replaced by a sharper jawline. "What are you doing here? Why are we..."
Seungmin let out a small, exasperated sigh. "We're... at home? In our apartment? What are you talking about?"
Our apartment?
The words didn't compute. Hyunjin's frantic eyes scanned the room again, past Seungmin’s worried face, past the window, past the dresser, and then landed on the wall opposite the bed.
His breath caught. The sound in the room seemed to vacuum out.
It was a painting. A huge one, in a heavy, ornate frame.
It was them.
Hyunjin and Seungmin, standing in a field of wildflowers.
They were wearing suits. A white one for Seungmin, a black one for Hyunjin. They were holding hands, smiling at each other with a look of such profound, unfiltered joy that it made Hyunjin feel sick.
This was a sick joke. A dream. A good but a twisted nightmare. It has to be.
"We..." His voice cracked. He pointed a trembling finger at the wall. "We're... we're married?"
The sheer, absurd terror in his own voice seemed to finally break the tension. Seungmin laughed. It is a soft, fond sound.
"What? No, silly," he said, shaking his head as if Hyunjin was a loveable idiot. He reached out, trying to brush the hair from Hyunjin's damp forehead. "Not yet. The wedding is next month, remember? You were just complaining about the seating chart yesterday."
Hyunjin flinched away from his touch. Next month. The words echoed. This wasn't a joke.
Seungmin’s smile faded. His eyes narrowed, and he suddenly sniffed the air around Hyunjin. His expression soured.
"Oh, my god. You're still drunk, aren't you?"
"What? No, I'm not—"
"I told you not to go that hard with Jisungie last night," Seungmin scolded, standing up. His tone was suddenly that of a disappointed partner. "I know it was his celebration party, but really, Jinnie? On a weekday? You know you have to going early today."
The name hit Hyunjin like a second physical blow. Jisungie? What Jisungie?
"Jisungie?" Hyunjin sputtered, scrambling to his feet, still tangled in the sheet. "Jisung who…?”
“What do you mean ‘Jisung Who?’, he will cry a river hearing you say that.”
“Seungmin, which Jisung are you talking about?” Hyunjin’s tone kinda desperate now. He needs to know who Seungmin talking about. What Seungmin means.
“Han Jisung, baby. Your platonic soulmate. What kinda booze he gave you yesterday make you this amnesia... ”
Han Jisung? The kid who made his life hell? He’d gone drinking with him?
“Han Jisung? What—I wasn't—I don't even like Han Jisung! We're not friends!"
Seungmin just rolled his eyes, completely misinterpreting Hyunjin's panicked denial as a grumpy, hungover deflection.
"Ugh, whatever. I'm not fighting with you when you're like this," he said, heading for the bedroom door. "I'm getting you two aspirin and a gallon of water. Do not go back to sleep."
The second the door clicked shut, Hyunjin’s legs gave out. He sank onto the edge of the unfamiliar, expensive-looking mattress. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the frantic hammering in his own ears.
He tried to rewind, to find the seam between then and now. But his memory was a brick wall. The last thing he knew—the absolute, final, crystal-clear thing—was the dampness of his own pillow, the hollow ache in his chest, the shame of crying himself to sleep on his seventeenth birthday because Seungmin had chosen Minho.
He looked around the room again, his gaze frantic. This wasn't a dream. The sunlight hitting the polished floor was too warm. The faint scent of coffee brewing somewhere in the apartment was too real.
He pulled in a ragged breath, trying to anchor himself. “Okay. Focus,” he whispered to the empty room, his voice sounding thin and small. “This is... it's fine. It's like one of those dramas Felix makes us watch. I've... I've been thrown into a different time. I'm here to fix something. Right? That's it.”
Before he could spiral further down that rabbit hole, the door opened again. Hyunjin flinched so hard he almost fell off the bed for a second time.
Seungmin walked back in, his expression softer now. He was holding a glass of water and two white pills in his palm.
“Here, drink up,” Seungmin said, his voice gentle, all the earlier frustration gone.
Hyunjin stared at the offering. Then, robotically, he took the pills and swallowed the water. It was cold. It felt real. He was accepting medicine from a future-Seungmin who thought he was hungover. The absurdity of it all made him feel dizzy.
Seeing him comply, Seungmin’s worried face relaxed into a relieved smile. “See? Better, right? Now, hurry up and get in the shower. You said you had to be at the café early for that new menu tasting.”
Seungmin’s smile tightened just a fraction. “Which is why I was so annoyed you stayed out so late with Jisungie celebrating his webtoon hitting one million views. I mean, it’s great for him, but... on a work night?”
Hyunjin's brain felt like it was short-circuiting. Every new sentence was a landmine of contradictory information.
“Café?” he managed to croak.
“Yes, the café,” Seungmin said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You promised Changbin-hyung to check the new menu today. It’s rare he even comes out to the branch location, he usually just makes you do everything.”
The name hit a complete blank. It wasn’t just unfamiliar; it sounded alien.
“Changbin?” Hyunjin asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Seungmin let out an exasperated but fond puff of air. “Yes, Changbin. Your business partner? Don't tell me you forget him, too?” He shaking his head, already walking over to a large, built-in closet. He pulled out a thick, fluffy towel and tossed it at Hyunjin, who fumbled to catch it.
“C’mon, shower. Go. Don’t be late.”
Hyunjin just stand there, clutching the towel—which was infinitely softer than any towel he owned back home—his mind reeling.
Seungmin walked up to him, his expression turning serious for a second. “And... you do remember what we’re celebrating tonight, right? Please tell me you didn’t forget that.”
Hyunjin couldn't find his voice. He offered no reply, just staring at this stranger who wore his best friend's face.
Seungmin sighed, mistaking his shocked silence for hungover guilt. "Just... go shower. We'll talk later."
Hyunjin nodded numbly. He turned and walked toward the bathroom door, his head full of a thousand questions, each one louder and more impossible than the last.
Hyunjin stared into the bathroom mirror, his expression completely blank. The face staring back was his, but it was wrong. He was used to the soft, almost innocent lines of his own teenage face. This reflection was different. The lingering puppy fat was gone, replaced by a jawline that felt sharp, defined. Adult. He looked tired. He looked mature. He felt like he was wearing someone else's skin.
He leaned over the porcelain sink and splashed his face with ice-cold water. Once, twice, three times. Hoping the shock would shatter this illusion.
It didn't.
The man in the mirror just dripped, looking back at him with the same lost eyes.
Maybe, a terrifying thought whispered, this really is my future.
-
When he walked out, towel slung around his waist, he found Seungmin fussing over two sets of clothes laid out on the bed. One was casual—a soft-looking black hoodie and worn jeans, clearly meant for him. The other was a crisp, light-blue button-down shirt and slacks. For Seungmin.
Seungmin’s head snapped up, and the worried look was back, stronger this time.
“You’re incredibly pale,” he said, walking over. “Honestly, after thinking about it... what if you just rest today? I’ll call Changbin-hyung and tell him you can't make it to the café.”
Hyunjin’s mind was screaming. He tried to force it all down, to organize the chaos. He needed information. “Where... where are you going?” he asked, deflecting. His voice was steadier, but he could feel a fine tremor in his hands.
Seungmin tilted his head, brows furrowing in confusion. "To the office. To work. Like always? Why?"
“Work where?” Hyunjin pressed, his eyes sharp, watching every micro-expression on Seungmin’s face.
“The TV station. Your favorite one. You... you forget that, too?” Seungmin looked genuinely alarmed now.
Hyunjin’s mind reeled. TV station? The Seungmin he knew—his Seungmin—was an astronomy nerd. He dreamed of astrophysics and distant galaxies. Not the entertainment industry.
“Yeah, I’m on the creative team, remember? Hyunjin, what is going on with you? Are you really still sick? I’m calling Changbin-hyung.” Seungmin reached out to feel his forehead, but Hyunjin instinctively took a step back. The flinch was small, but it was enough. Seungmin’s hand froze in mid-air, and the worry in his eyes hardened into real fear.
“Our graduation pictures,” Hyunjin said, changing the subject again, desperate to find a piece of his reality. “Where are they?”
“Our... graduation pictures?” Seungmin repeated, completely lost.
“Yeah. From kindergarten, elementary, middle school… We always graduated together. Where are the photos?”
Seungmin’s brow knitted into a deep frown. “Jinnie, we didn't go to the same school. I went to school across town.”
Hyunjin’s throat tightened. "What?" But... they were. They'd been inseparable. His bedroom wall—his real bedroom wall—was covered in stupid, grinning photos of them in matching uniforms.
Without another word, Hyunjin spin around and marched to the wall of framed pictures he’d noticed earlier. They were all couple photos, trips to the beach, candid shots. Nothing from school.
"The albums," he demanded, turning back to Seungmin. "Where are our photo albums?"
Seungmin, now looking genuinely frightened, left the room. He returned a moment later carrying a small stack of heavy, leather-bound books. With trembling hands, Hyunjin took them, sinking onto the edge of the bed. He opened the first one.
The school photos were there. But they were all wrong.
There was no picture of them sharing a tiny kindergarten stage. No awkward middle-school pictures together. Instead, there was a photo of Seungmin in a cap and gown from a high school Hyunjin had never seen before, and another of himself, alone, from his own. Their lives were documented in parallel, not together.
“But... we’ve been best friends since we were kids,” Hyunjin murmured, mostly to himself. His voice was hollow. “And I... I’m enemies with Jisung... And you... you used to date Minho.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and catastrophic.
Seungmin, who had been watching him with pity, suddenly went rigid. His entire demeanor changed. The warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp offense.
“What did you just say?” His voice was flat. “What do you mean, I dated Minho-hyung?”
Hyunjin froze. He doesn’t know why, but he thinks he’d gone too far. “I... I just... I mean...”
Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze searching, but now laced with a new tension. “Hyunjin, what’s wrong with you? Did you have a nightmare, or…?” He reached out again, this time touching Hyunjin’s cheek, his touch gentle but clinical.
“I don’t know,” Hyunjin whispered, the lie feeling pathetic. “None of this makes sense.”
Seungmin pulled back, letting out a long, slow breath. “Okay. You’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to work. I’m calling a doctor. You need to be checked.”
“No!” Hyunjin snapped, too quickly. “I’m fine. I just... I just need time.”
But Seungmin wasn't listening. He was already pulling out his phone and walking toward the door, dialing a number. Hyunjin sat on the edge of the bed, defeated. From the hallway, through the partially open door, he could hear Seungmin’s voice, now hushed and serious.
“Yeah, hi, I need to take the day off... He’s got a fever again, I think... And he’s having the weirdest dreams.” A pause. “No, weirder than the time he dreamt he was in a K-pop group and I was the main vocal.”
Hyunjin glanced at the door, confused.
“Yeah... He just said I used to date Minho.” Seungmin’s voice dropped. “Yeah, my distant cousin Minho. I know, right? It totally freaked me out.” He let out a small, nervous laugh before hanging up.
Hyunjin stared at the floor. The words echoed in his skull. Distant cousin.
This wasn’t his world. This wasn't his Seungmin.
When Seungmin walked back in, his face was set with worried determination. “Okay, I’m gonna call Dr. Jang. Your family doctor—”
“Don't,” Hyunjin said, avoiding his gaze. The false intimacy was starting to feel suffocating. “I... I’m fine. Seriously.”
Seungmin didn't look convinced, but he sat down on the bed next to him. “We were supposed to celebrate your birthday tonight. With everyone. But if you’re sick like this, I’ll just cancel it, okay?”
Hyunjin went still. Birthday? With everyone? In his world, he didn’t have "everyone." His birthdays were quiet, lonely affairs.
He glanced at the digital calendar on the nightstand. The date was the same. The same day as his disastrous seventeenth birthday. But the face in the mirror wasn't seventeen.
It's not the future, he realized with a jolt.
It's a parallel world.
“Don’t cancel,” Hyunjin said suddenly.
“Huh?” Seungmin looked startled.
“The party. Don’t cancel it,” Hyunjin repeated, forcing strength into his voice. “I’m... I’m just a little dizzy. Must have been the alcohol. I’ll be fine.”
Seungmin frowned, still doubtful. “But if you’re this out of it…”
“I’m fine,” Hyunjin cut him off. “And don’t call Dr. Jang. Please.” He attempted a smile. It felt weak, unconvincing. “Besides... I want to see who’s coming. I want to see 'our friends'.”
Seungmin studied him for a long moment, then finally, reluctantly, nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure. But the second you feel worse, you tell me. Got it?”
Hyunjin nodded slowly. He needed this party. He needed answers. He needed to see just how deep this rabbit hole went, and who else was waiting for him at the bottom.
-
As the afternoon light melted into the deep blue of evening, the apartment began to fill with noise.
The front door opened, revealing first two guest that made Hyunjin’s entire body go rigid. In his world, they were the last two people he would ever want in his home.
But Jisung’s reaction in this world shattered his composure.
“Jinnie-yah!” Jisung shouted, rushing forward and pulling Hyunjin into a hug so tight it nearly knocked the wind out of him. It was the kind of desperate, relieved hug you give a best friend after a scare.
“Are you okay? Seungmin said you were sick because of our celebration last night. I was so worried, man!” Jisung’s voice thick with genuine concern.
Hyunjin awkwardly patted him on the back. “Uh, yeah. I’m... I'm better now.”
Jisung pulled away, scanning Hyunjin's face. “You sure? You still look pretty pale.”
Hyunjin just nodded mutely, trying not to let his confusion show. Behind Jisung, Minho approached with a smile that was so shocking, Hyunjin almost flinched. It wasn't the arrogant, mocking smirk he was used to. It was... sincere.
“You really feeling alright?” Minho asked, before glancing at Jisung with an expression of such unambiguous tenderness that Hyunjin’s brain stalled.
He didn't answer right away. His eyes locked onto Minho’s hand, which was resting on Jisung’s waist. A simple, silver band was on his ring finger. And when he notice it more, a matching one was on Jisung’s.
Wait.
Are they... a couple? he thought, his jaw going slack. The two people he despised most in his world were, in this one, disgustingly in love.
Jisung and Minho moved past him, greeting Seungmin warmly and handing over a bag of snacks. Not long after, two more people arrived: a man who was slightly shorter than him but had impressively muscular arms, holding hands with someone Hyunjin knew all too well.
Felix.
“Hyunjin!” Felix chirped, his voice bright and loud as he launched himself at Hyunjin for an excited hug.
‘This Felix’ was a distortion. ‘The Felix’ Hyunjin knew was a quiet, ‘almost perpetually flat’ person. His smiles rare and small.
This Felix was radiating energy, his grin wide and blinding.
“Oh my god, I miss you!” Felix said, patting Hyunjin’s shoulder.
Hyunjin could only manage a weak smile. “Lix... you seem really different,” he mumbled before he could stop himself.
“Huh? What are you talking about? I’m the same as always! It’s only been two months,” Felix laughed.
The muscular man at his side stepped forward. “It’s because you’re always busy with your fashion shows. Hyunjin probably forgotten what you look like.” The man's tone was overly familiar, teasing as he speak directly to him. “So, you feeling better? From the way Seungmin sounded, I thought it was serious. But hey, you’re still standing.”
Hyunjin stared at him, completely blank. “I’m sorry... who are you?”
The man’s face scrunched up. “‘Who am I?’ Jeez, you can have a fever and still crack jokes. This is just your excuse for bailing on the café this morning, isn't it? Because you didn't test the new menu, I couldn't prep it for this week.” Hyunjin swallowed.
This must be him. This must be 'Changbin'. The partner Seungmin had mentioned. The name was a void. He didn’t know anyone named Changbin. But here, this man acted like they were like a long lost friends.
Felix giggled, pinching Changbin's cheek. “Stop nagging him. What if you make him actually sick?”
“Yeah, even I’m getting dizzy now…” Hyunjin chimed in, forcing a grin, trying to play along. But as Changbin headed into the living room, Hyunjin grabbed Felix’s arm, holding him back.
“Are you two... dating?” he whispered.
Felix’s brow furrowed for a second before his face split into a bright, conspiratorial smile. “I told you, it’s not official yet. But he’s been dropping hints. Wish me luck, okay?” He winked.
Hyunjin just stared. The Felix he knew would rather die than wink, let alone gush about a relationship.
One by one, the people Seungmin referred to as his "close friends" arrived. Hyunjin sat on the sofa in the living room, his body positioned in a casual slouch, but inside, a sharp, coiling anxiety was eating him alive.
This world is the complete opposite of mine, he thought, his hands clammy. He had to act normal. He couldn't afford to raise any more suspicion. But the anxiety in his chest tightened. This was all too much. He stood up, mumbling something about getting more snacks, and fled to the kitchen. But, the surprise isn’t stop when he pushed the kitchen door open.
Jeongin, his step-brother, was there, his back pressed against the counter. He was locked in a deep, passionate kiss with a man Hyunjin recognized instantly.
Chan. His tutor.
Shocked wasn't even the word. He was paralyzed.
How? In this world, are they couple too?
Hyunjin had no idea when they’d even arrived. Maybe that was the muffled noise he'd heard while showering. This entire, surreal day was shattering his grip on reality.
“Uhm... hello?!” Hyunjin finally squeaked out.
Jeongin instantly pulled away from Chan, but instead of looking embarrassed, he just looked amused. “Oops. Sorry, thought you were still getting dressed, so we hid in here.” Jeongin walked over and hugged him.
It wasn't the aggressive, friendly hug like Jisung's. It was slow, warm, and deeply affectionate.
“How are you feeling? Mom was asking this morning why you didn't call her like you usually do. Good thing Seungmin-hyung let her know you were sick.”
Hyunjin just let out a shaky breath. In his world, Jeongin was a ghost in his house.
Here, he really is a brother.
“Happy birthday, Hyunjin-ah. Sucks that you have to celebrate it while you’re sick,” Chan said from behind them, casually grabbing a glass from the cabinet for water.
The sheer amount of care he was receiving from everyone was suffocating. “Yeah... thanks, Chan-hyung.”
Chan flashed him that signature dimpled smile. Weird, he really doesn’t change much. Good for him.
“Hang in there,” Chan said, just before Jeongin grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the sound of laughter in the living room.
-
After dropping the snacks in the living room, Hyunjin rejoined the others. The group had migrated to the cozier family room. Jisung and Minho were curled up together on the long sofa, Felix and Changbin were sharing a small armchair, and Seungmin pulled Hyunjin down onto the loveseat, immediately taking his hand. Jeongin was settled comfortably on Chan’s lap, looking completely at ease.
As the conversation and laughter flowed around him, Hyunjin tried to just observe.
Seungmin kept their fingers laced together—an unconscious, grounding presence.
Every few minutes, he would turn to check on Hyunjin, leaning in to brush a soft, fleeting kiss against his temple. It made Hyunjin’s skin tingle, a mix of panic and an illicit thrill. In his world, their contact was limited to accidental shoulder bumps, all of his own pining restricted by the walls of "friendship" and Seungmin's own infatuation with someone else.
Here, this intimacy was assumed. Expected.
Felix, who in Hyunjin's reality carried a constant, heavy burden, looked... light. He was laughing loudly at something Changbin said, his entire face bright with an energy Hyunjin had never witnessed.
Changbin, despite being a total stranger, seemed to be the group's charismatic center, drawing people into his orbit. He was clearly comfortable with everyone, including, apparently, Hyunjin.
Jisung—his sworn enemy—in this world is a warm, considerate person. He kept lobbing jokes into the conversation that made even Hyunjin, in his cringing state, want to smile.
And Minho. The threat. The rival who had stolen Seungmin.
Here, is just Jisung’s devoted partner. The way they interacted—a quiet hand on the knee, a shared, private smile, and an intense fond gazing—made Hyunjin feel a strange, detached sense of admiration.
Jeongin and Chan also looked disgustingly happy. Hyunjin watched them, and his eyes caught the glint of matching rings on their fingers. A weird, displaced feeling bubbled up.
“Jeongin, how are you married already?” Hyunjin blurted out, the words escaping before his brain could filter them.
The chatter from Jisung’s last joke died. Jeongin stopped laughing and turned, rolling his eyes at Hyunjin. “After you spent a solid month complaining about helping me find a wedding planner, now you’re asking? Where have you been, hyung?” he said, laughing, completely misunderstanding the genuine confusion in Hyunjin's voice.
Jisung snickered. “He’s just realizing you're the youngest one here, man. You married early!”
Even though that wasn't what he meant, Hyunjin forced a small smile.
“Hey, I married the oldest one in the room, so it's totally invalid!” Jeongin retorted, planting a loud kiss on Chan’s cheek when his face twisted into a mock-pout at being called "old."
Everyone burst into another round of easy, genuine laughter.
But Hyunjin just felt suffocated.
The sound was too much. He wasn't used to this—this much harmony, this much uncomplicated joy. His family, his real family, was a collection of fractured silences and polite avoidance. The feeling was a physical pressure, a tightness building in his chest. Without realizing it, his grip on Seungmin’s hand tightened, a white-knuckled hold that was borderline painful.
Seungmin’s laughter faded. He turned, his brow instantly creasing with concern.
“You okay?” he whispered, his voice soft, his lips brushing Hyunjin’s ear so the others wouldn't hear. Hyunjin froze. The sudden, private intimacy, the genuine care that Seungmin give him tonight, especially. It was too much. He stared blankly for a second before finally, quietly, pulling his hand away.
“I need some fresh air.”
He stood up, leaving the warm bubble of laughter and light behind. He slid open the glass door and stepped out onto the balcony, leaving the sound of the party muffled behind the glass.
Out in the cool night air, Hyunjin gripped the railing, staring at the unfamiliar city skyline.
Hyunjin closed his eyes, trying to control the ragged rhythm of his breathing. The night wind on the balcony was cold, carrying the clean, earthy scent of recent rain. A chaotic storm of emotions was warring inside him—a strange joy from witnessing the warmth of these people, but also a profound, disorienting anxiety.
This world was so perfect. And that, more than anything, was what made him feel so utterly, hopelessly lost.
A moment later, he heard soft footsteps. And soon after, wrapped the same arms as this fateful morning, around Hyunjin’s waist from behind, holding him tight.
“If you’re still not feeling well, just say the word,” Seungmin murmured, his chin resting on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “I’ll kick everyone out.”
Hyunjin shook his head, a small, weary smile touching his lips. “No, don’t. They came all this way to celebrate my birthday. It feels wrong to send them home.”
Seungmin frowned, then let out a disbelieving little laugh. “Since when are you polite? Usually, if you’re horny, you’d have thrown them all out by now. Doesn’t even care where they’re all come from.”
Heat flooded Hyunjin's entire body. “Seungmin! Don’t say things like that!” he hissed, half-mortified.
Seungmin chuckled again, but the sound disappeared as fast. He sensed the deeper unease. He unwrapped his arms, moving to stand beside Hyunjin, his gaze fixed on his profile.
“You’ve been weird since this morning,” he said, his voice soft again. “And I can't tell if it's because you're sick, or... something else. If you want to talk about it, I’m listening.”
Hyunjin hesitated. But the open, patient look on Seungmin's face—this Seungmin—made him feel, for the first time all day, safe.
So he told him.
He told him about the "dream" that was his real world. About how he came from a place where everything was colder, harder. He told him about his silent, agonizing crush on Seungmin who was always just out of reach. He told him about Jisung and Minho being his enemies, about Jeongin being a distant step-brother, about Felix who always seemed to be carrying the weight of the world.
When Hyunjin got to the part about his world's Seungmin dating Minho, Seungmin's face physically recoiled in disgust.
“But you were so IN LOVE with him,” Hyunjin said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It made me... sick. And sad.”
“Oh my god, stop,” Seungmin said, his voice firm, cutting him off. “I don’t care. I don’t want to imagine loving anyone else but you.”
Hyunjin’s breath hitched. The words were simple, but they were so absolute. His heart, which had been a knot of anxiety, suddenly trembled. A slow, spreading warmth began to fill his chest.
“I know your ‘dream’ world sounds... harsh,” Seungmin said, his voice gentle. “But if you ever go back there, I just hope you have the courage to make peace with it. Forgive yourself, be open with people, and... if you really like me there, don't hesitate. Just tell me.”
Seungmin raised a hand, brushing his thumb across Hyunjin’s cheek. Then, he leaned in and pressed a soft, simple kiss there.
That was all it took. The simple, unearned affection broke him. A tear spilled over, then another. Hyunjin ducked his head, covering his wet face with his hands.
“Can you... can you kiss me again?” he whispered when he feels a little courage to lift up his face, the words barely audible.
He felt Seungmin shift. He could feel the heat radiating off his body, a warmth that made his heart pound. When Seungmin tilted his head, Hyunjin knew what was coming.
Their lips met, softly, but with no hesitation. The first touch was electric, a jolt that seemed to travel from his mouth straight to his toes. Hyunjin froze for a split second before, slowly, tentatively, he began to kiss back, letting himself sink into the sensation.
Seungmin’s hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck, thumb pressing gently at the base of his skull, holding him there, as if to say I’m right here. Stay with me.
Hyunjin’s own hands, trembling, found Seungmin’s shoulders, then slid down his arms, gripping his biceps as if for balance. The kiss deepened. Seungmin’s movements, at first patient, became more urgent, more demanding, as if he was trying to erase all the distance and doubt Hyunjin had just confessed. Hyunjin felt Seungmin’s other hand slide to his waist, pulling him in, eliminating the last bit of space between them.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard, their foreheads resting against each other. Hyunjin opened his eyes slowly. Seungmin was staring at him, his gaze unreadable—warm, deep, and so close that Hyunjin felt his whole body start to tremble again.
“Why are you shaking?” Seungmin asked, a small smile playing on his lips, his hands still firm on Hyunjin's waist.
Hyunjin didn't answer. He just dipped his head, hiding his burning face in the warm, safe space of Seungmin’s shoulder.
After a few more minutes, they went back inside, where the party was still lively.
-
One by one, the friends began to leave. Jisung grabbed Hyunjin’s hands, kissing his knuckles, his face a mask of guilt. “I promise I will never get you that wasted again, man. I’m so sorry.”
Minho, standing behind him, just laughed. “And I promise to nag him if he ever forgets that, Hyunjin-ah.” Jisung pouted, and Minho immediately softened, ruffling his hair until Jisung smiled again.
Hyunjin watched them, baffled. He could never have imagined this.
Next, Felix and Changbin said their goodbyes. Hyunjin pulled Felix into a hug, holding on for a few seconds longer than normal. Felix laughed, confused, as he pulled away. “Wow, you must have really missed me.”
You have no idea, Hyunjin thought. I just want the Felix from my world to be as happy as you are.
Finally, Jeongin and Chan headed for the door. “You have to come over to our place soon, hyung,” Jeongin said. “Jelo misses his uncle.”
“Jelo?”
Jeongin rolled his eyes. “See? His own uncle even forgets his name. That's why you need to visit more.”
“His own uncle..? I have a nephew..?” Hyunjin’s mind was still trying to catch up. He’d just processed marriage. He hadn't even considered the next step.
"You... you have a son?"
Jeongin just laughed, thinking he was joking, and let Chan pull him out the door.
After they were all gone, Hyunjin and Seungmin cleaned up the apartment together. Seungmin tried to make him sit down, worried he was tired, but Hyunjin insisted. He couldn't stand to just watch.
Later that night, curled up in bed, they talked again. Seungmin was laughing, recounting a similar episode from two years ago.
“You were convinced you were a K-pop idol,” Seungmin chuckled, fluffing his pillow. “The group was called... what was it... ‘Stray Kids’? You said there were eight members, I was a main vocal, and you were the main dancer.”
Hyunjin laughed along, the meta-joke landing with a strange familiarity. But Seungmin’s smile faded as he continued.
“In that dream... you said the world wasn't really okay with same-sex relationships. Even though, in that world... you said we liked each other.”
Hyunjin fell silent, processing the words. He was starting to understand. Maybe this world wasn't a coincidence. Maybe he was here to learn something.
A new resolve hardened in his chest. If—when—he went back, he would be different. He would make peace with Jisung. He would open up to Jeongin. He would help Felix find his own happiness. He would keep Seungmin far away from Minho.
And most importantly, he would finally, finally confess his feelings.
With that thought, Hyunjin closed his eyes, hoping he could find his way back.
By morning, the first sensation Hyunjin feels when waking up is, with a dull throb behind his eyes. He opened them, and the world snapped back into its familiar, muted focus.
He was in his old room.
The faded band posters, the shelves full of his mother's discarded flower vases, the heavy, oppressive silence—it all rushed back, confirming he was back in the reality he’d always known.
But something was different. He wasn't filled with the usual dread. He was carrying something new.
Braveness.
He sat on the edge of his bed, the memories of the other world vivid and sharp. The warmth of his friends. The easy, domestic intimacy he’d never imagined. Seungmin’s words, seared into his heart.
“I have to start now,” he murmured.
After a shower, he picked up his phone. His first instinct was to call Seungmin. His thumb hovered over the contact, a familiar knot of fear tightening in his stomach.
“Calm down… don’t be scared,” he whispered to himself.
He pressed the call button. Seungmin picked up on the third ring, his voice thick with sleep.
“Hello, Hyunjin? It’s early... what’s up?”
“I need to see you. Can you meet me today?”
“Today? Umm—” There was a pause, the distinct sound of rustling bedsheets. “Okay, yeah. I actually have a free afternoon. Where?”
“The park. Near our school.”
“Okay.”
While he waited for the afternoon, Hyunjin decided to take another, harder step. He had to make peace with Jisung. In this world, Jisung was a constant source of his misery. But Hyunjin couldn't shake the memory of that other Jisung—the warm, worried friend.
He steeled himself, opening his social media. He’d never bothered to get Jisung’s number.
> Hyunjin: jisung, can we meet today? need to talk about something.
It took several agonizing minutes for a reply.
> Jisung: What? Wanna fight again? Yesterday’s punch not enough for you? lol.
Hyunjin sighed. But for the first time, the message didn't ignite his anger.
> Hyunjin: No, seriously. I just want to talk. Can you?
The reply was faster this time.
> Jisung: Fine. The cafe at the intersection. 4 PM.
Hyunjin let out a small, relieved breath. One step taken.
-
That afternoon, Hyunjin sat on the park bench, waiting. He heard footsteps on the gravel and looked up. Seungmin was walking toward him, a hesitant smile on his face, holding two cold drinks.
“Late birthday present,” Seungmin said, sitting beside him, handing one over. “Sorry… Minho confiscated my phone on your birthday, and I couldn't find you all day yesterday.”
Hyunjin took a long sip, the cold liquid grounding him. This was it.
“I need to tell you something,” Hyunjin said, his voice quiet. “And I need you to just listen. Don’t laugh, and don’t get mad.”
Seungmin’s brow furrowed, but he nodded.
Hyunjin told him everything. He told him about waking up in a different world. About their life there. He described the party, their friends, Jisung and Minho, Jeongin and Chan. He explained how warm everyone was, how happy Seungmin was.
“I don’t know why I was sent there,” Hyunjin said, his voice starting to tremble. “But I think… I think it was to teach me something. To teach me to stop being so scared. To be honest about how I feel.”
Seungmin was silent, his eyes wide, just staring at him.
“I’ve liked you for a long time, Seungmin,” Hyunjin said, the words finally tumbling out. “But I was always terrified to say it. I was scared you’d reject me, or worse, that you’d pull away. And I couldn’t stand losing my best friend. But after seeing... us... in that other world, I realized I can’t lose the chance to have that happiness here, too.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Hyunjin looked down at his shoes, his heart hammering against his ribs.
“Hyunjin…” Seungmin finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “Are you serious?”
Hyunjin nodded. “I am. I know you probably don’t feel the same way, and I’m prepared for that. I just... I don’t want to regret not saying it.”
Seungmin looked down at his own hands. “Hyunjin, I… I don’t know what to say.”
Hearing that, Hyunjin reached out and gently took Seungmin’s hand. “Then you don’t have to answer. Not now. Not ever.”
He waited until Seungmin looked up at him. “I know he’s still... there. In your heart. I just want you to know... you deserve better than him. You deserve to not always be anxious and scared to meeting someone you love.”
Seungmin’s eyes glistened. He slowly, slowly offered a small, thin smile. It was the sweet, sad smile that Hyunjin adored, the one that wasn't his to keep. Not yet.
“Oh, and one more thing, Seungmin.”
“What?”
“Thank you,” Hyunjin said softly.
“For what?”
“For always being there. In any world I’m in.”
-
After seeing Seungmin, Hyunjin going straight into the café where he has to meet Jisung, his stomach twisting. Jisung was already there, slouched in a booth, scrolling on his phone. The air was thick with tension. Hyunjin sat down opposite him.
“So?” Jisung said, not looking up.
“I’ll order first,” Hyunjin mumbled, heading to the counter, mostly just to delay the inevitable. He ordered a simple americano and a slice of cake for Jisung—a peace offering.
A moment later, a barista brought the order to their table. “One americano, one strawberry shortcake.”
“Thanks,” Hyunjin said, looking up.
He freeze.
The barista was shorter than him, with a stern face but incredibly muscular arms visible even under his uniform. He looked... familiar. Hauntingly familiar.
The barista nodded, and Hyunjin’s eyes caught his nametag. 'Changbin'.
Hyunjin’s breath caught in his throat. It was him. The business partner. The man who had been laughing and holding hands with the other Felix.
“...Sir? Is something wrong with the order?” Changbin asked, his voice exactly as gruff as Hyunjin remembered.
Jisung kicked Hyunjin under the table. “Oi. He’s talking to you.”
“Oh! No, sorry. It’s perfect. Thanks,” Hyunjin stammered.
Changbin gave him one last weird look before walking away.
“What the hell was that?” Jisung asked, finally looking up from his phone. “You looked like you saw a ghost.”
Hyunjin stared at Changbin’s back as he wiped down the counter. He thought of his Felix—the real, tired, emo Felix. A slow, almost imperceptible smile touched Hyunjin’s lips. It was a sign.
He turned back to Jisung, his resolve now stronger than ever. “I’m glad you came,” he started, his voice clear and honest. He apologized. For his attitude, for the fights, for his own part in their rivalry. Jisung was clearly baffled, even suspicious. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday. What’s going on? Are you messing with me? Is this about the punch?” he asked, half-joking, raising a fist.
Hyunjin just smiled, a real, tired smile. “Let’s just say I finally realized I’m tired of fighting with you.”
As Hyunjin left the café an hour later—on surprisingly neutral terms with Jisung—he paused by the door. He looked back at Changbin, who was busy at the espresso machine. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Felix.
>Hyunjin: Hey, I might sound crazy. I think I just found the guy you’re supposed to meet..
-
When he got home, he found Jeongin on the sofa, playing a game on his phone, the TV murmuring in the background. Hyunjin walked over and placed a small cake box on the coffee table. He’d bought it at the café, knowing his step-brother had a sweet tooth.
“For you,” Hyunjin said, his voice carefully flat. “Eat it before Mom says you can't.”
He started to walk away, heading for his room. But before he was out of earshot, he heard a small voice from the sofa.
“...Thanks.”
That day was a new beginning. Hyunjin was determined to fix the broken pieces of his life—his relationship with Jisung, with Jeongin, and with himself. And most importantly, he was brave enough to live his life alongside Seungmin, whatever that meant.
From that strange, impossible world, Hyunjin had finally learned. Happiness wasn't something you waited for. It was something you had the courage to build yourself.
.
.
.
(The morning was bright, saturated in the kind of warm, golden light that Seungmin loved. Their apartment was quiet, save for the low gurgle of the coffee machine and his own off-key humming. He was stirring two mugs, his mind already drifting to the presentation he had due next week, when he heard the soft padding of bare feet on the hardwood floor.
"Minnie."
Seungmin paused. The voice was deep, still rough with sleep. A small, anxious knot—an echo of yesterday's strange, disorienting fear—tightened in his stomach. He’d been worried all night, even after Hyunjin had finally fallen asleep, his face pale and tear-stained.
He took a breath, pasted on a playful smile, and turned around. "Which Hyunjin are you?" he asked, his tone light, testing.
The man in front of him, swimming in his favorite oversized t-shirt, laughed. It was a low, warm sound that instantly unknotted the anxiety in Seungmin's chest. "I’m the Hyunjin who will always love Seungmin’s voice, his handsome face, and his total lack of clarity."
Seungmin felt the tension evaporate so completely he almost sagged. He burst out laughing, a loud, relieved sound. “Oh my god, it’s the cheesy Hyunjin. Thank goodness!”
He closed the distance in two steps, wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s waist, pulling him into a tight, solid hug. He buried his face in his fiancé's neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him. This was him. This was his Hyunjin.
"So, I had another one of those weird dreams, Min," Hyunjin said, his voice muffled by Seungmin’s hair, his hands already gesturing enthusiastically. "This time, I was a high school kid, you know, like in one of those dramas? And I was best friends with you from childhood, but you weren't my fiancé! Can you imagine? Not my fiancé. So sad, right?”
Seungmin pulled back, handing Hyunjin his mug, and leaned against the counter, ready to listen. “And who I was with?”
“You... you were dating someone else!” Hyunjin looked at him with an expression of mock betrayal. “And the guy was... Minho-hyung. Your own cousin! Ugh, isn't that just so weird?”
Seungmin snorted, nearly spilling his coffee. “Minho? Seriously? Oh my god, why him?”
“That's what I don't get! He was your boyfriend, and you two were all romantic right in front of me, while I was just… suffering. It hurt so much, you know.”
“But... in the dream, did I know you liked me?”
“I don’t think so!” Hyunjin sighed dramatically. “I was so upset. So I went to find Jisungie to vent, and you know what? He just punched me! I swear, it hurts so much. I just started crying and rolling around right there, I didn't even care who saw me.”
Seungmin held his stomach, laughing so hard tears started to form in his eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Jinnie! You cried over that?”
“How could I not? That Jisungie was terrifying, not like our Jisungie at all.” Hyunjin took a sip, then continued. “Anyway, I think he felt bad about me screaming like a lunatic, so he apologized and took me to the nurse's office. The whole way, I was just complaining about you and Minho-hyung. But when I mentioned trying to break you two up, Jisung looked at me like I was really, really insane... so I just said, ‘Why are you acting weird? Hyungie is your husband, isn't he?’ And I swear, Minnie, he was about to punch me again.”
Seungmin’s shoulders were shaking with laughter as he watched his fiancé's pained expression. “Oh my god, Jinnie-yah. Your dreams are literally a soap opera.”
“I’m telling you, it was so weird. And the strangest part is... it all felt real. The pain, the sadness, the choices I made. It felt like I wasn't dreaming at all.”
Seungmin listened as Hyunjin continued to ramble, recounting all the bizarre, twisted details of his ‘dream.’
Finally, Hyunjin’s rant wound down, and he looked at Seungmin, his expression turning serious. “But you know what, Minnie,” he said, his voice soft. “After I woke up from that, I realized one thing. No matter how weird or complicated that dream was... I still just can't be away from you.”
Seungmin fell silent for a moment, his heart swelling. He looked at Hyunjin, his eyes shining. “I can't be away from you either, Jinnie. In any world.”
But as he smiled, he knew. He had known since he heard that confident, cheesy laugh.
The Hyunjin he was with all day yesterday—the man who had fallen out of bed, who had looked at their wedding portrait with sheer, unadulterated terror, who had flinched at his touch, and who had kissed him on the balcony with a desperate, fragile sadness that broke Seungmin's heart—that was not the man in his arms now.
He suddenly remembered that other time too. Two years ago, when Hyunjin had woken up in a blind panic, claiming to be a K-pop idol in a group called "Stray Kids."
Who was that boy yesterday? Who was that lost, terrified, impossibly sad version of his fiancé who had stumbled into his life for just one day?
Still, Seungmin doesn't say a word about it. He just smiled, pulling his fiancé in for a sweet morning kiss, and held onto the secret, burying it deep in his heart.)