Chapter Text
When Jisung fell in love with Minho, it wasn’t overnight. He didn’t even notice the switch in his feelings until it was too late. They were already too deep for him to ignore and even deeper for him to let them go easily. As much as he could remember, the very first time he felt something different was brief and intense. Intense was a constant when brevity was relative.
One second
That night, Jisung was at a college party, it was Jisung’s second year, Minho was in his third. They had been friends for two years now and finally upgraded it to best friends six months ago. They were inseparable, as much as university allowed students from different majors to spend time together.
That night, Jisung was sipping in his non alcoholic beverage. He had lost a bet with Felix earlier this week, about something he already forgot and his penalty was to stay sober while every one else were drinking like their life depended on it.
It wasn’t too bad he discovered after some time. He had been put in charge of music, again, and was having fun handling the music everyone was dancing on. The party was huge, outside of his friends, he didn’t know anyone, actually, he couldn’t remember who threw the party to begin with. It didn’t matter anymore, he was thrilled to be the one controlling every one in the room. Either if they had to be slowly dancing or jumping their feet off. It was a balance he had to find and to handle precisely: he had to keep dancers on the floor, not to tire them too much but also not to bore them to death. It was complex, he had to adjust after every in and out of people but he loved that.
What he loved less was how lonely he was on the little stage they put him on. How a specific person was missing by his side. How he hadn’t even seen him since he arrived. He knew he had arrived, it was way past the time he said he would come and Lee Minho was never late. He had to be somewhere. While preparing for the next change of music, he looked over the crowd, trying to find the dark hair among tens and tens of dark hair, but Minho’s hair had something special, Jisung would recognize him on the spot. But the darkness of the room made things even more difficult for him, despite his well-known of Minho’s features.
But he was lucky tonight, because here he was. Jisung frowned as he noticed the girl he was talking to. Minho was not smiling but Jisung knew him enough to know he was still enjoying the conversation. He was leaning in her personal space, his attention was on her. Minho was the kind of guy to easily be distracted when he was bored. Clearly, he was not. And it pissed Jisung off because he was supposed to come say hi to him before anything else. He promised. The girl on the other side was also clearly overjoyed to have the attention of the third year dancer Lee Minho. He saw it through how bright her smile was, how excited she felt as she tugged her hair behind her ear, multiple times, how she flirted shamelessly by touching Minho’s arm.
It lasted at most one second but he felt it from his toe to his head, how his heart squizzed at the sight.
Brief but unforgettable.
One minute
Time went and their friendship kept getting deeper. By Jisung’s third and Minho’s last year, they rented an apartment together as Minho wanted to move out from the dorm. And as soon as he told Jisung this, he asked him to come live with him. Jisung didn’t even hesitate and when the new semester began, they were roommate. Things escalated quickly after that. They were close before. They became one after. Much to the dread of their friends. They didn’t understand their bond. The way they found comfort in each other hugs, silent night, anime night. Jisung had best friends before Minho but he was special, he never clicked that well with anyone else. It seemed like they were soulmates. He always thought soulmates were for lovers, but his relationship with Minho proved otherwise.
So, when one day, passing a corner of the dancing building, he fell on Minho kissing another guy, Jisung’s world scattered. Everything he knew were called into question. Was he really Minho’s best friend?
For Jisung, Minho was straight. He already saw him flirt with girls. Saw him kissing girls.
Lee Minho, his best friend, his soulmate, the fourth year the most popular on campus was straight.
Never in their three years of friendship he ever saw him, heard him talk about a guy in that way. Never.
That’s why Jisung halted abruptly in front of this sight, unable to detach his eyes from his best friend, his lips on that guy lips, his hand on his back. He was too far to heard anything, much to his relief. But his eyes witnessed.
During one while minute, he stayed there, unable to look away, to move away, his heart squeezing in his chest, betrayal burning in his veins, tears making their way through his eyes. A statue frozen in space but not in time. Time went slower, sixty seconds, it should be short, it felt like eternity, eternity in hell.
They finally broke apart, surely gasping for air Jisung guessed bitterly.
He didn’t know what let him move. The pain or something in their behavior, but he finally turned back and ran away, far away. He let his foot chose their path, completely shutting down his brain he knew he couldn’t handle at the moment. When he got sight of their home building, he stopped breathless. No, he couldn’t go there, he couldn’t face him if he came back as he should be. Jisung was searching for him earlier to go back home together, of course Minho would be home soon. No, he really couldn’t handle him right now. His breath started becoming short and rapid. He needed to calm down. Even a little would do. And he needed to be somewhere else. Anywhere. Where Minho wasn’t.
After some time, he finally sat down at a café, far enough from their home to not bump into his so-called best friend by chance. Or bad luck for once.
When he recovered from the shock, he saw more clearly what bothered him. It wasn’t about Minho’s sexuality. He didn’t care at all, Minho was still Minho whatever genre he liked. But he didn’t knew. Minho never told him. Minho hid it from him. Was he really Minho’s best friend? Maybe, he made everything up? Maybe Minho was his best friend but he wasn’t his? Or, maybe Minho thought he didn’t deserve to know? Or Minho didn’t find him trust worthy enough?
The pain he felt in his chest at this thought was unbearable. It felt like all those years spent together meant nothing, were nothing.
He thought he knew his hyung the most but that moment changed everything. One minute was not a big amount of time, merely sixty seconds. But sometimes, it was all it took to break someone’s certainties. Or to break someone completely.
He spent the next week awkwardly. Each time they were alone in a room, he didn’t know how to behave. He was well aware Minho noticed it but, until now, he never asked why yet. How could Jisung stay normal when he didn’t even know how to handle his internal feelings, full of doubts and questions. He needed time. He needed to understand. He needed… He needed a sign from the universe which would lead him to find the answer and ease his mind.
But the sign never came. Or maybe Minho was the answer he searched for.
On a non particular night as they were watching another episode of their on-going anime, sitting weirdly far from each other on the couch, Minho’s voice broke the weird silence weighing between them:
“I’m gay.”
Jisung jumped a little bit. Not from the words themselves but because he didn’t expect Minho to talk, as it seemed difficult for them to discuss lately. But Jisung remained silent. What could he say? What should he say? It was the first time someone made that kind of confession to him. How should he react? It’s not like he didn’t know, he couldn’t even act like he did not know even if his life depended on it. So it stayed silent, only nodding.
“Does it bother you?”
Jisung hated how his best friend’s voice was weak, showing how much he feared his reaction. He also hated how he was so caught up in his own insecurities he couldn’t be strong enough to show to Minho how unbothered he was by his sexuality. Just because he was a brat who couldn’t get over being not told something.
“Of course not.” He still whispered, attempting to smile.
“You’re sure?”
“A hundred percent.”
By his side, Minho released a long and relieved sigh. Jisung’s curiosity blew before he could stop it.
“Who knows?”
“Huh?”
“Just to not make any mistake. I suppose it’s not, like, publicly known? So, I may need a list or, oh, never mind, I just have to shut up about it. Yeah, I’ll do that. Sorry.”
“Jisung-ah, you’re the first person I’m telling this.”
The world became suddenly soundless for the young man.
“The first?”
No one knew?
“Yeah.” Jisung sensed Minho wanted to say more so he stayed silent even if millions of questions were popping in his head. “It’s recent. It’s… yeah, it’s quite recent.”
Somehow, the way Minho answered prevented Jisung to ask all the questions he had in mind. He just got one. The only one he would dare to ask because he had to know.
“Because, no, are you… like dating?”
Minho shaked his head, his fingers playing with his jeans. Jisung had to stop, he was making his best friend uncomfortable when he was entrusting him with his private secret. If he could, he would bang his head against a wall: how could he have thought Minho did not trust him? He should have been more confident in their relationship. He should… he shouldn’t let his insecurities get the worst out of him. He knew but he was hurt. Even if he remembered how hard it was watching them kiss, the betrayal feeling still lingered. It shouldn’t. Not anymore.
One hour
One hour felt like a long time. Sometimes it didn’t. Some other times, you felt both. Pain can transform one hour to four. Anger can turn one hour to ten minutes. Time was not something definite, regular, constant. Not to Jisung at least.
One of this phenomenon happened to him just a few months after Minho’s confession about his sexuality.
He was at the cafeteria with Felix, waiting for Minho to join them. He was late, which was unusual for him. Jisung kept glancing around to try to find him before Minho had to look around. Felix, on his side, teased him non stop.
“You should eat, it’s getting cold.”
“But hyung is not here yet.”
“Yeah and we have a class in fifteen minutes. So hurry up or you’ll starve all afternoon.”
Jisung pouted but didn’t move. It was their routine. Here he was.
“Hyung!”
Minho waved back, both of them completely ignoring the looks on them, and he turned back instead of walking. Jisung frowned. It only took ten seconds for him to see the other guy by his hyung’s side, following him as he made his way through the crowd. As they were holding hands, while carrying their plates. It was dangerous, everything could fall down and food would go to waste. Someone could slip on it and break some bones before someone could clean it up. They shouldn’t do that.
“Jisung-ah, Yonbok-ah.”
“Hi hyung”. Felix answered while Jisung remained silent, glaring at their hands joined.
“Can I add a new item to our party?” He pointed with his head to the guy next to him.
“Ahn Mingyuk. My boyfriend.”
Boyfriend! Since when? Why didn’t he tell him about it? Where did he meet him? How? How long had he known him? Was he reliable?
All those questions popped in his head, overwhelming him, flooding all his synapses, making him muted and blinded during the whole lunch. That lasted ten minutes.
He saw Felix and Minho glances toward him but couldn’t do anything about it. Whispers were flooding his head, leaving him no rest.
But then, he sat in his class with Felix and his surroundings became clear again. He recovered his senses, his brain started working again too.
“Did you see him?” He asked suddenly his friend.
“Who?”
“That guy.” Felix frowned so he added some more intel. “Minho’s boyfriend.”
“Yeah, he’s cute. Not surprising for Minho to go for that type of guy.”
“He’s… big though? Too big.” He winced at the recollection of the guy.
“Minho maybe liked this type. It’s his first try. Give him some space Jisung.”
“But… he’s not right for him.”
“You just met him?!” Felix frowned again, unable to understand Jisung’s hate on this poor boy.
“I can sense it.”
And he went on and on. When the bell rang one hour later, marking the end of the class, Jisung felt exhausted but still on the verge of an anger nearly burning him down. Too much time, too little time.
Before leaving, Felix looked at him with an expression he couldn’t name.
“Why do you act like that Jisung?”
This question stayed in his mind for the rest of the day, finding no answer. Thinking about Ahn Mingyuk gave some itches to his chest. But, as clarity happened, he couldn’t pinpoint what made him rant so much about him. He just dated his best friend. Who didn’t talk about it before.
Maybe he was just taken too much by surprise?
One day
Jisung never tried to dig into his feelings for the next two years. Minho’s boyfriend changed but he remained by Minho’s side, so why bother investigating on why did he always end up disliking those guys? It wasn’t on purpose, Jisung never told himself that he should hate on the guys Minho was dating. It just always ended up like that. It’s really not his fault if he always found something not worthy of his best friend. And that Minho trusted him. He was doing his job as his best friend. Nothing more. Nothing to look up on.
But, things never went according to what you needed. Life didn’t work this way.. And Jisung paid its price on a sunday afternoon.
They were, Minho and him, at his newly rented apartment. He just managed to land a job and so, to get his own living place. Minho was already working for a year now. They moved out of their shared apartment when they noticed how tiring it was for Minho to commute to his work, at the other side of the town from the university. So would it be for Jisung if he followed Minho. The first few months were hard, for both of them as they were used to live together. But sometimes, time made things easy. After some months, the loneliness faded enough to not hurt too much anymore. What they missed on week days were catch up on weekends. They found a new routine, one which didn’t leave them tired to the bones but content. So, they kept their traditional gathering day from university, limiting it to only one day as their work was high demanding on energy and dedication. Sunday afternoon was their moment. It was never the same: they could go on a walk, to the gym, to some pastry store or café or, simply, staying at home and watching a movie or an anime. As they were doing now. Sitting on the couch, Jisung was leaning against Minho’s shoulder, they watched Yuri on ice, again. They were both tired after their long week, even a chill saturday didn’t wash out the fatigue. So they opted for something known and easy to watch. They could zone out, it wouldn’t be a loss as they knew this anime by heart.
“Jisungie?”
Minho’s voice was low, like a whisper. Jisung frowned, it was unusual from his hyung. His stomach twisted under a sudden jolt of stress.
“Yes?”
“Do you… No, never mind.”
“Do I what? You can’t just say that,” Jisung joked badly.
Minho remained silent for the next minutes. Then, after a sigh Jisung refused to interpret, he resumed.
“Do you think you can love someone as much as you loved your first love?”
Jisung froze, not seeing the screen anymore as his sight became completely black.
“What do you mean?” He was surprised he succeeded to keep his voice steady.
“What I said.”
As Jisung wasn’t able to answer, Minho took his silence for a demand of more explanation.
“Everyone says that the first love is the most powerful love, the purest, the strongest. But, sometimes it doesn’t work out. Is it possible to find someone you love and love this person at least as mush as your first love? Or are you condemn to have a pale and fragile love?”
Jisung wanted to ask why Minho was thinking about this but somehow, he couldn’t find in him the will to do so. Had he a boyfriend he was willing to truly love? Another one Jisung didn’t hear of yet? And, who was his first love? Ahn Mingyuk? Another one? More and more questions piled up in his brain, without any answer, just there to scratch it until it bled, defeated.
Minho was still focus on the screen, he didn’t look at him once. It was not about him, Jisung had to remember. It was about Minho. So, he found the strength to stop his spiraling and put his mind seriously on the question, really giving it a meaning.
“You don’t have to bother.” Minho whispered after several minutes of silence. He took too much time. But he really needed them. He sensed it was not just a theoretical question, it meant something for his best friend, he had to give him the best answer he could.
“Wait, just… wait.”
Minho’s features were sharp, his jaws were clenched, the only external sign of his anxiety. But smaller ones also gave him away as Jisung knew him perfectly. Like his fingers wrapped on his pant. Like his complete immobility, frozen in time and space.
Finally, Jisung put words on his thoughts and ordered them correctly.
“I think you can’t compare the intensity of love between the first and the followings.”
“So it’s doomed.”
“No, I didn’t say that.” He paused to check if his thoughts were really ordered correctly. “A first love will always be special. It’s the first one. It’s the point of origin of your love life. Some experience are new, there is no comparison. You hold a soft spot for them, even if it’s not the best, it’s the first still. But, you can love as much or even more another person than you first love. It will never replace it. But it can be different and its intensity outshined it.”*
“So, for you, what made a first love powerful resided in its novelty? Not the feelings?”
“No. Or yes. I… It’s a mix of things I think. The novelty makes the feelings a hundred times more intense. Everyone acts on them freely, fully and without second thought. No other love is as pure as this one. Love at its raw state. Not stained. Not distorted. Not broken.”
“Thank you.”
Minho looked at him this time, a little smile on his lips, not reaching quite his eyes though.
“I don’t know if I’m of any help really.”
“You are.”
Minho looked back at the screen, closing the subject. But for Jisung, it was not closed. Too many questions were on his mind. Too many holes in the story he couldn’t grab.
Minho got back to his apartment less than two hours later, leaving a Jisung on fire. Jisung was aware that Minho noticed the change in his behavior but he chose to keep acting as nothing happened. That day, he was lucky Minho had so many things to do before its end that he couldn’t stay and investigate further. It was a mere delay, Jisung was nevertheless counting on it as his brain wouldn’t shut down once he was alone in his apartment. It made him so frustrated as there was really no reasonable explanation for this, for him replaying the conversation in his head over and over.
So, why was he bothered by Minho having a first love? Everyone had one. Was it really because he didn’t knew about it? Was Jisung that petty? Couldn’t he bear that Minho still had secrets he didn’t know of?
And why did he feel angry?
Sunday dinner time clocked in but Jisung was not hungry. He was mad. Restless. He didn’t understand himself, how his brain was working. He couldn’t put some logic on his thoughts, on his feelings. They were wild. Too wild.
His phone vibrated again, notifying for a new message. From Minho. Another one. He didn’t read it, like the previous ones. He didn’t want to. He was too absorbed on the scratch in his chest that didn’t stop from itching for hours.
He put some drama on his screen but shut it down ten minutes later when he wasn’t able to remember what he was watching. He put some music on but shut it down too ten seconds later. He needed to cover his thoughts but the music didn’t felt right. Desperately, he tried to put himself to sleep.
He should have foreseen the outcome. Usually, he had a bad time to fall asleep when something was stuck on his mind. What did he expect when he was on the verge of his mind blowing up?
At 10pm, he got several messages from his friends which he didn’t answer, again. He didn’t want to lie to them by pretending everything was good when he didn’t feel like it. Some other time, he would have tried but not tonight., he felt energyless
At midnight, he was weighing the idea of drowning his brain in alcohol. He never did that before. But the thought passed by and there was some attraction to it. Was it a good idea? Won’t he start a new way of destroying himself? One he may not be able to get out from?
At 2am, he threw his comforter off the bed and sat, looking absently at the wall, tired, angry, sad, lost. Why did it matter to him that Minho was talking about love?
He screamed at the wall, just before shutting down his mouth with his hand and stopped breathing, listening. Nothing. He sighed, relieved he woke up no neighbour.
Crawling on his bed, he grabbed his laptop and searched on the Internet: ‘how to fall asleep when you couldn’t?’ He browsed through websites, reading useless advices he already proved, a long time ago, their inefficiency. He always ended up with a sleepless night and had to bear the consequences the very next day.
At 3am, finally, someone wrote something senseful. Or maybe it was the lack of sleep who distorted his logic. But, nevertheless, he still grabbed his coat, his keys, let his phone on the bed and went out of his apartment. There was no need of the useless device. He didn’t plan to answer to any of the constant buzzing of notifications. It would only made him more frustrated that he already was, more than he really needed. He just got back up to take his wallet, this could be useful. Then, he walked to the Han River. ‘Sometimes, I go on a walk with no purpose. Thoughts come and go as they want. I just focus on putting one feet ahead of the other until peace comes back. It can take thirty minutes or four hours, I don’t care, I walk and breathe.’
It talked somehow to Jisung.
When working, when studying, when composing, when things got harder, or more complex, moving was always a relief. He always felt better, relaxed. Even if the walk part wasn’t totally efficient, it may worked well enough. So, why not?
At 3:30am, he reached his goal. The night was still dark, colder than he expected but somehow he was thankful to it. It brought more focus on what he was doing physically than what his brain was processing.
There was no one on the riverbank. Just crazy people would be there at this time of the night. He was crazy. If he needed another proof, that was it.
He was not a good walker, it took him one hour to reach this fact. He was tired, his legs felt heavier. He began to be thirsty? He should have taken a water bottle. And he was starting to lose his foot fingers. They were cold as death, he tried to jog a little but there was no point, he wasn’t in the right shoes and he felt breathless after only thirty seconds. He wanted to sit on a bench but he knew he would freeze to death in less than ten minutes. He didn’t want to give up. Not yet. He wasn’t even relaxed a bit. His brain was st-
His brain was silent.
No buzzing. No talk. No sound.
Just a little wind, indicating it was still functioning but not over functioning.
This was new.
He smiled to nothing, at no one. Just the way of expressing his state of mind.
But then, thoughts came back. Not in a question way, incessant and overwhelming.
No. It was answers, illogical in their order of appearance.
‘Jealousy’
‘Love’
‘Best friend’
‘Blind’
At 6am, he sat in a café, heating himself with a coffee and a pastry. Trying to match the answers he got with the questions he had. He just had difficulties because there was no link between them. When he thought he found it, he quickly rejected it as it was wrong. So he kept going, trying every possibilities.
At 8am, he was back by the Han River, his brain at the edge of a headache. Walking had its effect so why not trying again? Thankfully, he didn’t work on mondays. Thankfully, his stop at the café made him warmer from head to toes and the weather got lighter. The riverbank was now full of people, whether it was runners or elderly ones.
Now he had to navigate through them. not to bump into them.
Why was he jealous? About what?
Some answers came up on his mind but his guts were not satisfied with them. There was no reason for him to be jealous of Minho, of him being in love. He was happy for him. He grimaced. No, not happy but he was not against Minho being in love. Yeah, this was true. So what did he feel jealousy?
Frustration grew as he couldn’t find his answers. But then, the miracle of the walk did its magic again: after some hundreds of meters, the feeling eased a little, allowing him to breath better and to think better.
Why was he blind? And the same next question: about what?
Jisung stopped suddenly and got close to the river. Facing it, he let his gaze dropped on the little waves the wind formed on the water as it blew at its surface. Quietness. Peace. Serenity. He allowed himself to tap his finger on his thigh. The only part of his body which he could move. Preventing it from happening would have been counter productive. He needed the relief, it helped him to embrace fully what the Han River was giving him. His breath steadied, slow but regular. He felt good.
He winced. He closed his eyes as his brain was finally giving him all the explanation he did not reach before.
Or, the explanation he blinded himself because he was too afraid to face. He had been so blind. Blinder than the blindest person on Earth.
He wasn’t jealous of Minho. He was jealous of the man Minho was in love with. He was jealous of Minho’s first love. He was envious of the love Minho gave them. Harbour for them. He wanted to be the recipient of it.
Because he was in love with his best friend.
He was in love with Lee Minho.
His sight blurred suddenly. His hand found water on his face. He was crying. He was crying. Because he loved his best friend. Not like a best friend should.
How long had he been in love?
“Are you alright young man?”
Jisung nearly fell into the river as he jumped scared as the old lady approached him.
“Excuse me?”
“Everything okay?” She looked at him, concerned. “You’re crying if you didn’t notice.”
Jisung quickly removed any trace of his tears from his face. He almost scratched it. He tried to smile but failed miserably.
“I will be.” He finally decided to answer.
“That’s right. Nothing is eternal. You will be okay at some time. Be patient young man.”
“Thank you halmeoni.”
“Have a good day still.” She waved him goodbye after a one last look and joined back a group of three others old ladies. “Everything’s fine. He finally won’t jump in the water!”
Jisung laughed unexpectedly at the old lady remark. So she was afraid of that. The idea never made its way to his mind. He shaked his head but still put some distance between him and the water.
He was in love with Minho.
It didn’t change since the last time he had this thought.
He resumed his walk but for not too long, he sat on the first bench he found empty. Walking had reach its purpose and he wouldn’t extend his pain longer. He was now just lost. Everything changed now. How would he face Minho now? Would he be able to act as if nothing happened? As if he was still blind to his own feelings?
No, he couldn’t. Just the thought of seeing his hyung made him feel different. He was anxious. He was still excited but he was also restless. It was like his brain unlocked a new anxiety: what if Minho learnt about it? Had he feel his feelings before? Should he start to act more carefully now? Would he have to restrain himself from touching Minho? Hugging him? Wouldn’t that give him away? Would he be able to refrain from overstepping?
He took his head between his hands, trying to stop it from imploding. Or exploding. He never knew the difference between the two. The concept completely slipped through his fingers. His head hurt, he should have known better, he should have expected being this overwhelmed.
What would he do now? He couldn’t face his hyung anymore. He couldn’t meet him and not tell him, could he? Wouldn’t that be lying?
His jaws started to hurt as he notices how much he clenched them in utter frustration. His right foot went still as he made it stop tapping on the ground. His calves was indeed in pain from the repetitive movement.
Would he lose his best friend?
He cleaned angrily all the tears that were still falling down his face. No he didn’t have the right to cry. He was at fault. He was the one who betrayed their friendship. He should bear all the responsibilities and crying was not allowed.
Minho should never know about his feelings. Absolutely never. It would crumble everything. He was too kind not to try to ease the situation. He would distance himself to help Jisung get his feelings down. He would stop hugging him to avoid tempting him. And he would go on and on. Horrible, hurtful ideas. Jisung couldn’t ever bear the thought of having their relationship different. It would kill him. It would feel like having his chest opened, raw and taken his heart out with claws clenching in it, draining his blood out while all his vessels and arteries were ripped off one by one, tearing them apart from his body without any pain relief. It would kill him, slowly, painfully.
Minho should never know. Jisung would bury his feelings deep down and act as if nothing ever happened.
But that was impossible. He now knew about them. Now, they had seen the sunlight, they didn’t want to be put back in the dark anymore. They were clasping firmly on their spot and didn’t seem willing to let go.
Minho should never find out and Jisung would grit his teeth and do everything he can to keep it that way.
He finally raised his head and his chest, still intact, felt lighter than a few minutes earlier. His feelings didn’t disappear. They were still there, waving at him happily. But having a goal was enough for him to move forward. He could work with that.
‘Stay the same.
Do not change a thing.
Do not act on your feelings.
Keep them in.
Be what Minho hyung need you to be.
Be his best friend. The best of them.’
Around him, there were less people than earlier. The young ones had disappeared. Surely off to work. It only left the elderly ones and the young parents with their children who were not allowed in day care yet.
Jisung observed them passing by in front of him, some glanced at him but mostly they ignored him. He didn’t mind, seeing them live their life was all he needed. It kind of gave him some connection to the world. Seeing how tired, how happy, how sad, how blank they all were made him a little bit better. Everyone was struggling, he wasn’t the only one. They kept going on, no matter what, with their lives. So he should too.
Just maybe not now. Just a little while after.
Thinking about his apartment where everything happened was not a pleasant idea.
Around 11am, he finally gathered the courage to finally go home. He took his time to go back. He walked slowly, enjoying the fresh air, the view of the Han River he didn’t get to see that night, the trees trying to bring back the life which stopped during the winter.
On the streets, he observed the shops, the buildings, the people who were walking by. Who they were, how they look.
He knew, obviously, that he was only delaying the time before getting back at his apartment. But he was on his way, so did it really matter how fast he walked? Wasn’t he allowed to be scared of how he would feel when he would reach home? As he would see again the couch where everything happened? He wouldn’t be able to stop from replaying the scene with Minho in his head, living again all and even more as he was now aware of his feelings. He was allowed to walk reluctantly.
What took him half an hour during the night took him an hour and an half this time. It was a little after half past twelve when he reached his building. Oddly, he was not that hungry. Like if the pastry he half ate in the morning was enough to satiate him. Merely but his body seemed not to complain.
He pushed the main door of the building and let a young lady enter with her dog. She thanked him at which Jisung nodded back. Normal behavior, normal life, he could still do that.
He ignored the lift and pushed the door to the stairs. Three floors, it was nothing. Some more delay again.
Forty two. The number of steps to get to his floor. Not one more. Not one less. He felt them in his legs.
He stood in front of the door.
He would have to walk for six meters again and he would be in front of his apartment. Then, he would have to take four more steps, after opening the door, and he would see his couch. He would see Minho, laying on it, watching the TV, talking to him. He would hear again those damn words. Jisung was tempted to turn back, go down through the forty-two steps and go to another place. Maybe he could rent another apartment quickly. He almost moved that way.
‘Stay the same.’
The resolution he made whispered to him in his ears. Breaking it this soon was not an option, he was stronger than that. He had to be.
He turned the door handle and moved forward.
“Jisung-ah.”
The called one screamed and hit back on the door which just closed behind him.
Two hands grabbed him and a body collided with him. Luckily, he recognized the voice. At least, he wouldn’t be killed. Nevertheless, fear ran through his blood, leaving cold on its way, freezing gradually his body. He was not prepared to see ghost-Minho. He was certainly not prepared to see real-Minho.
“Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone? What did you do? Are you okay? I was worried!”
“Sorry, I forgot my phone.” A little lie which could be believed. He felt guilty but that didn’t stop him.
“Since last night?” Minho clearly doubted him, he couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t ready, he was planning on making up an excuse for his lack of answers. Later. When he would already be in his apartment, sitting on his bed. Not in the hallway. Not with Minho.
“I…” Jisung sighed. Maybe some truth wouldn’t hurt. “I couldn’t sleep so I took a walk.”
“Until now?” Minho checked his watch. “Since when?” He looked suspiciously.
“I don’t know.” He did.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
Because I’m in love with you and I can’t stand you being in love with someone else.
“Work stress I suppose.”
“Work?” Minho looked astonished.
It was not an exceptional lie but it was all he could sum up with how much he was sleep deprived.
“I don’t know why.” He shrugged, trying to appear relaxed about it. “And you? What are you doing here? We had nothing planned.”
“Like I would do nothing if my best friend stopped answering any of my texts or phone calls since almost a day. Like I wouldn’t freak out. I would have been here earlier if not for work.”
“You shouldn’t have. I would have answered. Like in ten minutes?”
“Or you could have been dead. In this apartment.”
“Or I would have had my battery dead.”
“Or-”
“Will you let me go and open the door?” Jisung’s tone was a little bit too cold for his normal self but he didn’t even intend to talk like that. He was so tired now.
Minho stepped back. Once he opened the door, he trailed behind him. Of course he would follow him inside. This was normal, this was usual. Of course, since he was there, they would spend lunch break together. Of course.
But he was not hungry. But Jisung-not-in-love-with-Minho should be. So he would help him cook and eat with him, hiding the broken piece of his heart. Gritting his teeth to handle the pain of not having what his heart desired.
He would bury everything, what made him Jisung, and truly be the Jisung Minho needed.
One week
One year went, three Minho’s boyfriends came and went. Four if Jisung counted the new one who just joined them on their group night at their usual local bar. Han Youngdae. He hated that name. But he kept a smile on his face and welcomed him as warmly as he could do. Like a true best friend without romantic feelings would do. Like he did for the boyfriends before. The day everything changed for him was still vivid in his mind. His heart was still defenseless as before. Or even more defenseless because before he didn’t knew. Now, he was aware what the pang meant and it stang deeper. He was in pain as long as Minho’s relationship lasted. Gladly, he noticed it seemed they had a peremption date: three months. After that, Minho became single again. Every single time. Though, Jisung wasn’t aware of the reason behind. Actually, Minho stopped completely talking to him about his boyfriends. Jisung was curious of the why but he was in the same time too afraid to ask. What if Minho was aware of his feelings? He wouldn’t be able to lie directly to him, to deny. He would confess and loose his best friend. So no, he wasn’t informed of the content of Minho’s relationships and he intended to keep it that way. As long as he kept having Minho for himself on their date nights.
Three months later, Jisung sat at a coffee shop, nervously. Why did he agree to meet him? His guts were telling him it was a mistake, he had to run and hide. The taping on the table was attracting the focus on him but he couldn’t help it: each time he made himself stop, it resumed mere seconds later. It was the only way to ground him. He tried to breath calmly, easing him into it but he only managed to start hyperventilating. He picked up the little menu but it was written in a language he didn’t understand now. It was in korean but he lost the ability to read it.
Wait. He had no obligation to stay. He could come up with some excuses later. Something went up. Yes, he could do that. He-
“Sorry, I hope you didn’t wait for too long!”
Jisung sat back down and looked at Youngdae as he sat too at the table. As usual, he was well-dressed with a black shirt well fitted, his hair well brushed. He could be a model if he wanted, Jisung was sure. The muscles were well shaped by his shirt. Jisung was not jealous, he grew some muscles too but he always felt less well fitted when he tried those kind of clothes.
“No, I just got here.” That was a lie, he was so worried he got there fifteen minutes earlier.
“Good. What do you want to drink? It’s on me.”
That was the worst with Youngdae. He was kind, he mimicked Minho’s behavior toward him, treating him like Minho did, taking the hyung thing as serious as Minho. If he was the boyfriend of anyone but Minho, he would have liked him. He really would. But he was Minho’s, he was stealing him. In no universe, Jisung could like him.
“Just a coffee hyung.”
Youngdae ordered for both, adding cream for Jisung’s drink, like of course he remembered he liked it. Gosh, he made it really hard to dislike him.
“Thanks for agreeing to meet me alone.”
“Especially without Minho hyung knowing.” That was what bothered Jisung the most. Why Youngdae wanted to hide their meeting from his boyfriend?
“Let me explain and you’ll understand.” Of course, he saw his suspicions.
The waiter brought their beverages, putting on halt Youngdae’s explanation. The older one took a sip of his coffee.
“I need your help.”
“On what?” Jisung grabbed his own coffee and drank a little bit for countenance. He was uncomfortable. Did they had a fight? He wouldn’t know a thing about it. He wouldn’t have advice. Or ways to ease Minho’s anger. He never had a fight with him.
“You know I’m taking Minho-ya for a holiday week?”
“Mmh.” Another sip.
“I want to propose.”
“Propose what?” Another sip.
“To marry me.”