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He thinks he smiles a lot with Seunghan. Smiled a lot with him. It’s the only thing he really can do now. Even when he first met Seunghan, a trainee as young and good looking as him, he smiled. Seunghan had experienced less things than him (Wonbin only having one year and a few months over him, but still) and it made Wonbin feel happy just watching Seunghan do the same things he did, in his own joking way. They’d gotten so close to the point that Seunghan had told him he was dating a girl before they broke up close to debut, Wonbin’s mouth left wide open after the statement. He felt honored in a weird sense.
The secret wasn’t well kept, seeing as Seunghan’s hiatus came sooner than wanted.
At the time, everyone thought it was for the best. Even when the group got their first win with Love 119, their first comeback without Seunghan, the male still said it was better that he hid in the shadows. Eventually, two months became six, and six became nine. None of the members could predict when Seunghan could officially come back into the group, even if he had never left in the first place. Wonbin, poor sweet Wonbin, decided to grow a pair and reassure the fans. He had a little spark of hope that hadn’t been diminished yet—that Seunghan would come back like normal, like they hadn’t spent almost a whole year without him.
It made him even more embarrassed when Seunghan told them he’d be officially leaving the group, no hiatus attached.
“You guys are doing well without me, even better I’d say. It’s for the best, I don’t want to drag the group down.”
Wonbin bites his tongue, watching as Seunghan individually hugs each member before getting to him. His sharp eyebrows quirk at Wonbin, and his scarred eyebrow raises right back. The hug lasts two seconds before Seunghan slides away and out the door.
Now, he can only smile at Seunghan, through his phone screen or a monitor. He smiles brighter than the Shanghai moon when Seunghan earns his first music show win as Xnghan, nerves visible in every word he’d sing.
Wonbin watches his screen proudly, with Eunseok prodding him on what had him beaming.
“Just a cat video.”
It’s still a sensitive topic in Wonbin’s mind.
Even when everything worked out without him—Wonbin hates to admit that—he still wonders what could’ve been. What Seunghan’s mascot would’ve looked like, whether his love for Sohee would just grow larger every month.
Wonbin likes to think that he’s filling in for him, or at least trying to.
There was this one moment they were in Tokyo for their tour. Wonbin was busy teasing Sohee on how cute he was, because he always is. A few pinches on the cheek irritates Sohee, grumbling.
“Oh c’mon, I can’t bother our cute little Ddori? You’re just too cute, Sohee…”
Wonbin brushes the back of Sohee’s head.
“Gosh, you sound just like him.”
Wonbin’s smile falters.
“Wh-”
He has a feeling on who him is.
“What do you mean by that?”
Sohee stares right at him, rounded eyes full with knowing.
“Like him. Like Seunghan.”
The mention of Seunghan freezes him over completely. Sure it wasn’t illegal to say the name of someone they knew so intimately, but in such a semi-public set Wonbin into paranoid mode.
It’s the first time any of them said his name after the official statement.
Wonbin stays quiet, whipping out his phone.
“Well, I wouldn’t be able to beat how much he loves you.”
Ever since that incident, Wonbin had felt Seunghan’s absence even more beside himself. Every ‘hyung’ from Chanyoung or Sohee, every soft laugh from Eunseok, everytime Shotaro would lay his head on his lap.
Sungchan had told him once, while they were alone:
“I think you miss him more than he would miss Sohee. It’s clear as day to me.” Because of course it would be. Sungchan and him hung out all the time when they could, and he’d spent even longer time with Seunghan when they still had that NCT draft group together. Wonbin wishes he weren’t so easy to read.
The adjustments to choreo made it even worse, because it solidified the fact that Seunghan wasn’t coming back like they all hoped he was. Poor Chanyoung had to mature his image sooner than expected, no longer the extremely quiet and shy maknae they had.
He’s combing through Chanyoung’s brown curls one night in his hotel bed, other hand occupied with scrolling through TikTok. He stumbles upon a video on Seunghan’s fanpage, with him in muay thai shorts. His other hand pauses, caught in watching what Seunghan did for content nowadays. Chanyoung looks up from his pillow.
“What’s up hyung?”
Wonbin shakes his head, scrolling past the video.
“Nothing, just got caught up watching something.” Chanyoung opens his mouth to presumably ask what Wonbin was watching, but a continued combing through his hair halts the question.
He’s too lazy to head back to his room after being fully engulfed in Chanyoung’s blanket, the younger muttering that he was completely fine with Wonbin staying the night.
Chanyoung falls asleep first, Wonbin watching as the male blinks become slower than the flow of molasses before his phone drops beside his pillow.
He’s reminded of the few nights he and Seunghan would have mini sleepovers in their dorm rooms, whether it’d be Seunghan coming over to show his latest crayon-shinchan plush or Wonbin wanting to watch a movie. Their last night before the split, Seunghan had hugged his fire-hydrant sized plush in bed, staring at Wonbin’s blonde hair in the dark.
“You guys are doing great.”
Wonbin frowns in the dark. They didn’t talk about the current state of the group when they were together. He knows exactly what Seunghan means by it.
“Well, yeah. We’d be doing better with you though.”
He wants to believe the words coming out of his mouth. Seunghan softly scoffs.
“I doubt it. You guys don’t need me. I’m being for real.”
His chin digs into shin chan even more, bangs covering those eyebrows of his. Wonbin wishes Seunghan wouldn’t think of himself as such a burden. He’s as talented as the rest of them—as good at singing like Sungchan is, good at dancing like Eunseok is, and as good at teasing like Wonbin himself.
Wonbin finds his hand under the covers.
“Just because we don’t need you, doesn’t mean we don’t want you here, Seunghan.”
Wonbin whispers, squeezing Seunghan’s hand.
“You got that?” His satoori comes out even quieter.
Seunghan only nods into his plush.
Wonbin knows that his words probably wouldn’t have had that strong of an impact to fight Seunghan’s already-made decision. When you’re backed up into a corner by the people you thought were your fans and by your company, there’s no way to go but the exit.
Maybe if he’d chosen the right words, Seunghan would have stayed.