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Geonwoo lowered his head further as the night wind swept past the nearly empty bus stop once again. The hood of his black hoodie concealed most of his face, though every now and then, the dim glow of the streetlights still managed to catch the exhaustion carved beneath his eyes. Beside his feet, a white plastic bag carrying two cans of cheap beer rustled softly in the wind. One of them had been opened almost an hour ago, slowly losing its coldness as time insisted on moving far too quickly tonight.
His phone screen lit up again for a few brief seconds before fading on its own.
No new notifications.
Geonwoo stared at the numbers in the corner of the screen longer than he should have.
11:17 PM.
Forty-three more minutes, and April 11th would finally be over.
It felt strange, watching a day that used to be filled with voices and birthday wishes pass by in complete silence, as though his birthday had disappeared alongside his name—one people had slowly begun to stop mentioning altogether. The past few weeks had made Geonwoo far too familiar with doubtful stares, assumption-laced comments, and sentences spoken as though strangers somehow knew him better than he knew himself.
In the end, people would always rather believe a short, baseless rumor than any explanation at all.
Geonwoo let out a slow breath before lifting his gaze toward the highway ahead, still crowded with passing cars despite the late hour. The city remained alive as always. Office lights still glowed behind tall windows. People were still laughing somewhere across the street. Life kept moving forward, with or without him in it.
His fingers lazily pressed the power button, turning off the screen before he leaned back further against the cold metal bench.
At least this day would be over soon too.
Geonwoo closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the distant roar of traffic and the whisper of the night wind to crowd the space inside his head—a space that had felt unbearably suffocating these past few weeks. The scent of damp asphalt, still carrying traces of the evening rain, lingered faintly in the air, mixing with cigarette smoke drifting from somewhere near the edge of the sidewalk.
His hand reached for the beer can that had long since lost its chill. The bitter liquid slid slowly down his throat, leaving behind a sharp taste on his tongue. Geonwoo grimaced faintly before lowering the can back beside his feet.
Truthfully, he did not even like beer that much.
He just wanted to feel something other than emptiness.
The old streetlamp above the bus stop flickered a few times before stabilizing again. Geonwoo tilted his head up briefly, then let out a quiet, breathless chuckle at how even that dying lamp looked more determined to hold itself together than he was.
His phone lit up again.
Almost instantly, Geonwoo looked down.
But once again, it was nothing more than another food delivery promotion filling the screen. No messages from the other members. No late birthday wishes from friends. No incoming calls forcing him to quickly erase the exhaustion from his voice.
Geonwoo rubbed his face harshly.
How stupid of him that some small part of him had still been hoping.
Even though this was what he wanted, wasn’t it?
A hiatus.
Disappearing for a while.
Giving everything enough space to quiet down.
The agency had even asked people not to mention his name too often for the time being. For everyone’s sake, they said. To keep the situation under control.
It was almost funny how a single piece of rumor could alter so many things that quickly.
Geonwoo still remembered the exact day the rumor started spreading. The rumor about him cursing behind the cameras, only for the clip to be cut short and thrown online without context, without any explanation that the anger had been directed at himself. The internet never truly cared for long explanations anyway. People only needed someone to throw stones at.
And that day, he just happened to be standing closest to the fire.
Geonwoo lowered his head even further, fingers tightening around the sleeve of his hoodie as he tried to warm the body that had slowly begun to grow cold beneath the night wind.
It had only been last month, March 11th, when they celebrated Xinlong’s birthday together, and the dorm had been unbearably loud.
One of the members had purposely sung completely off-key.
The cake had fallen apart before anyone even managed to cut it properly.
And someone had been far too busy recording Xinlong’s reaction while laughing the loudest out of everyone, obviously, that had been Anxin.
Now, even mentioning his own birthday felt like something forbidden.
Geonwoo let out a quiet laugh.
Short.
Empty.
His eyes dropped back to the clock glowing on his phone screen.
11:31 PM.
Thirty more minutes.
Geonwoo exhaled slowly before pushing himself up from the bench. His knees felt slightly numb after sitting in the same position for too long.
Maybe it was time to go home.
At least before the rain started pouring again.
But his steps came to a halt when, from somewhere in the distance, someone suddenly called out his name.
“Geonwoo!”
His body stiffened instantly, frozen where he stood.
That voice was far too familiar for him not to recognize.
Geonwoo turned quickly toward the sound.
Across the street stood someone in a gray hoodie left half unzipped, revealing a wrinkled black T-shirt underneath. His hair was a complete mess, like he had been repeatedly running his hands through it without realizing, and his breathing came out uneven—shallow gasps slipping between every inhale. One hand still gripped his phone tightly.
Xinlong.
The headlights of passing cars repeatedly cut through their line of sight before the road finally cleared again a few seconds later. Xinlong crossed immediately without thinking twice, his pace so quick it almost turned into a run.
Geonwoo remained frozen where he stood.
Truthfully, his mind still had not fully caught up with whatever was happening in front of him.
“God…” Xinlong stopped right in front of him before bending down slightly, both hands braced against his knees as he tried to steady his breathing. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, hyung…”
His voice sounded like a strange mixture of relief and irritation.
Geonwoo blinked slowly, long lashes shifting beautifully with the movement of his eyes.
“Why were you looking for me?”
Xinlong immediately looked up, staring at him in disbelief. “Because you suddenly disappeared from the dorm.”
“Well, obviously I diseappeared. I’m on hiatus, remember?” Geonwoo joked lightly.
The moment he heard that, Xinlong’s sharp brows furrowed almost instantly.
“Geonwoo hyung.”
Something in his tone shifted slightly. Lower than usual. Enough to make the hairs on the back of Geonwoo’s neck rise for reasons he could not explain. Almost immediately, Geonwoo looked away toward the road again, anywhere, as long as he did not have to meet Xinlong’s stare. The night wind swept by once more, gently moving the edge of his hoodie.
“I just came out for a bit,” he murmured quietly.
Xinlong watched him for a few seconds without saying anything. His gaze drifted down toward the plastic bag near Geonwoo’s feet, then to the beer can that was still half full.
“You’re drinking, hyung?”
“A little.”
“It probably tastes awful.”
That finally earned a small laugh from Geonwoo. “What would a kid know about the taste of beer?”
Xinlong let out a quiet scoff, completely ignoring the teasing before dropping onto the bus stop bench without asking. His shoulders sank the moment his back touched the seat, as though all the energy he had spent searching for Geonwoo had finally run out.
Geonwoo stared at him for a moment, still standing where he was. Unlike the strong, commanding aura he carried on stage, from where Geonwoo stood now, Xinlong looked small. So small it almost felt like the oversized hoodie he used could swallow him whole.
“What are you even doing here?”
Xinlong unlocked his phone for a second before turning the screen off again. “Looking for you. I literally just said that,” he replied, a faint pout slipping into his voice.
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“Instinct.”
The answer came far too quickly, enough to make Geonwoo frown.
Xinlong glanced at him briefly, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “Also because this place is close to the dorm.”
Geonwoo nodded faintly before finally sitting down beside him.
Silence settled between them afterward.
Cars continued passing in front of the bus stop, headlights streaking through the dark before disappearing deeper into the night. Somewhere in the distance, the obnoxiously loud exhaust of a motorcycle echoed through the street, followed by the laughter of a few people walking out of a convenience store.
Quietly, Xinlong glanced over at Geonwoo.
His groupmate looked thinner compared to a few weeks ago. Even beneath the dim streetlights, the dark circles beneath his eyes were still painfully visible.
Geonwoo noticed the stare.
“What.”
Xinlong shook his head lightly. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you, hyung?”
Geonwoo fell silent for a fraction too long, unsure what to say when the last thing he had eaten all day was a slice of apple that morning.
Xinlong immediately clicked his tongue softly, like he already knew the answer.
“No wonder you look like you’re about to collapse.”
“Dramatic.”
“I’m serious.”
Before Geonwoo could respond, Xinlong pushed himself to his feet again. A small smile tugged at his lips before he started walking toward the tiny convenience store at the end of the street. Geonwoo was already halfway to standing, about to follow after him.
“Just stay there, hyung. I’m going to the convenience store for a second.” Xinlong turned around and pointed toward the bench behind him.
Geonwoo frowned in confusion. “For what?”
Xinlong glanced back while still walking backward a few steps.
“To buy something.”
“Xinlong—”
“Five minutes.”
In the end, Geonwoo let him go. He watched Xinlong’s figure grow farther away, eyes lingering on the convenience store door as it slowly swung shut again after he disappeared behind the bright aisles inside. The faint sound of the little bell above the entrance still echoed softly in his ears.
The night wind swept through once more, gently brushing the edge of his hoodie.
Now Geonwoo was alone at the bus stop again.
And yet, strangely enough, the silence that had felt unbearably overwhelming earlier was beginning to shrink little by little.
Even though nothing around him had changed. The old streetlamp still flickered every now and then. The highway ahead remained crowded with passing cars that could not care less about who was sitting alone beneath the dim lights of a city bus stop.
But now, there was at least someone who knew he was here.
Geonwoo lowered his gaze to the beer can he had just taken a sip from, fingers tightening around the aluminum until his knuckles turned pale. After a moment, he let out a quiet breath and slipped it back into the plastic bag.
For some reason, it tasted even more bitter after Xinlong arrived.
A few minutes later, the convenience store doors slid open again.
Xinlong stepped out carrying a white plastic bag dangling from his wrist and two cups of instant ramen, one in each hand. Thin wisps of steam still curled from the surface.
Geonwoo immediately raised an eyebrow.
“You made ramen at this hour?”
“Better than letting you catch a cold, hyung.”
Xinlong walked back over before sitting down beside him again. Carefully, he placed one of the ramen cups onto Geonwoo’s lap.
“Hold this.”
Automatically, Geonwoo accepted it. Warmth immediately spread through his palms, which had long gone cold from the night wind.
Xinlong unwrapped two pairs of disposable wooden chopsticks, placing one into the cup resting in Geonwoo’s hands before gently blowing on his own ramen.
“I got the mildly spicy one. The others were sold out.”
Geonwoo stared at the ramen for a few seconds before letting out a quiet laugh.
“Eating instant ramen on your birthday is kind of pathetic. Also, you can’t even handle spicy food.”
Xinlong immediately turned toward him.
“Well, that means hyung still remembers it’s your birthday?” he replied, completely ignoring the part about himself not being able to eat spicy food.
“How would I forget my own birthday?”
“Good.”
The answer sounded far too serious for such a simple sentence.
Geonwoo fell silent for a moment before finally peeling back the ramen lid. The scent of warm broth immediately rose with the steam curling into the cold night air. They ate quietly for a while. Every now and then, the soft sound of slurping slipped between the distant noise of traffic.
Then suddenly, Xinlong laughed to himself. His laughter always sounded strangely endearing, like some kind of magnet that made people unconsciously pay attention to him and forget everything else around them.
Geonwoo found himself staring for a second before asking, confused, “What?”
Xinlong shook his head, still trying to suppress his smile.
“It’s just funny.”
“What is?”
“You.”
Geonwoo immediately clicked his tongue softly. “You’re unbelievable.”
That only made Xinlong laugh more openly now, his shoulders trembling slightly.
“I’m serious, hyung,” he said once his laughter settled down a little. “How old are you actually?”
Geonwoo stared at him flatly.
“What kind of question is that?”
“Because sometimes you act like the oldest person alive.”
“I am older than you, kid.”
“Yeah, but then suddenly you act like a middle schooler.”
A short laugh escaped Geonwoo before he could stop it.
“How exactly?”
“Earlier.” Xinlong pointed toward the plastic bag filled with beer cans using his chin. “Sitting alone at a bus stop drinking cheap beer like you’re filming some depressing coming-of-age movie.”
Geonwoo rolled his eyes, though the corners of his lips still lifted faintly.
“So what, I should’ve been drinking expensive wine instead?”
“There you go again.”
Xinlong shook his head while laughing quietly under his breath. The sound was soft, but it was enough to make something inside Geonwoo’s chest loosen just a little.
It had been a long time since someone last joked around with Geonwoo without being careful around him.
Without those pitying looks.
Without the awkward pauses that always seemed to follow after his name was mentioned.
Xinlong remained busy stirring his ramen while Geonwoo quietly glanced over at him.
The younger boy’s hair was genuinely a mess, whether from the wind or from him constantly pushing it back over and over again, Geonwoo could not tell anymore. Frameless glasses rested neatly on the bridge of his nose, while the tip of it had turned pink from the cold. Then again, it was not just the tip of his nose, his entire face had flushed red by now. Hadn’t Geonwoo already told him earlier that he could not handle spicy food? Yet Xinlong still insisted on eating it anyway.
Stubborn, as always.
The oversized gray hoodie hanging loosely off his small frame paired with black sweatpants that looked like they had been thrown on without much thought somehow only made him look softer, cute enough that Geonwoo had to resist the sudden urge to ruffle his hair.
Watching Xinlong like this made Geonwoo suddenly realize something.
“You’ve been looking for me this whole time?”
Xinlong nodded while chewing.
“Since after dinner.”
“What made you think of looking for me?”
Xinlong quickly swallowed his food before taking a sip from the cold drink he had bought earlier.
“Because you weren’t in your room, hyung.”
“That’s it?”
“And…” Xinlong paused briefly, eyes dropping to the ramen cup in his hands. “I just thought… it’s your birthday today.”
The words were spoken so quietly they nearly disappeared beneath the sound of passing cars.
But Geonwoo still heard them clearly.
And somehow, out of all the misfortunes that had come crashing into him one after another lately, it was that simple sentence from Xinlong that made his chest ache the most tonight.
Geonwoo lowered his gaze back to the ramen in his hands.
The warm steam rising from it had begun to thin out now, defeated little by little by the increasingly colder night air. He gently stirred the noodles with his chopsticks even though his stomach had already felt too full to eat much since earlier.
Beside him, Xinlong remained seated comfortably with one leg folded onto the bench. His shoulders hunched slightly as if trying to keep the ramen warm in his hands. Every now and then, he would blow softly on the broth before taking another bite, only to hiss from the spice for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.
The atmosphere was calm.
Strangely calm.
Especially considering that just a few hours ago, Geonwoo had been certain this would become one of the worst nights of the year.
“Won’t the manager scold you for sneaking out?” Geonwoo asked suddenly.
Xinlong lifted his head. “They haven’t caught me yet.”
“Xinlong.”
“I told them I was going to buy water.”
Geonwoo let out a short breath, somewhere between amused and helpless.
“You really…”
“What?”
“You’ve gotten bold lately.”
Xinlong shrugged lightly. “I’ve always been bold.”
“Too confident for your own good.”
“That too.”
The answer came so quickly that Geonwoo ended up chuckling softly.
The laugh was brief, but it was enough to make Xinlong go quiet for a few seconds. His eyes drifted toward Geonwoo carefully, almost as though he was making sure that sound had truly come from him and was not simply a coincidence—
or worse, something Xinlong had imagined.
Geonwoo noticed the stare.
“What now?”
Xinlong immediately shook his head, though the smile on his face still lingered.
“You laughed just now, hyung.”
“So?”
“It’s nothing.” Xinlong lowered his gaze slightly. “It’s just… I feel like it’s been a while since you did.”
Geonwoo fell silent.
Only then did he realize it too. These past few weeks, it felt like every muscle in his face had forgotten how to move for anything other than forcing small smiles in front of company staff, smiles that looked more like exhausted apologies than genuine expressions.
Or lowering his head.
Or staying quiet.
Slowly, his hand moved to close the ramen cup that was still only half-finished.
“I’m tired, Xinlong.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Softly.
Tiredly.
Xinlong, who had been joking around just moments ago, immediately fell silent.
Afterward, Geonwoo let out a small laugh that sounded more like an exhale than anything genuine.
“Funny, isn’t it,” he murmured while staring at the road ahead of them, “when all that happened was one small curse word…”
The night wind swept past again.
Cold.
Sharp enough to sting all the way to his fingertips.
“But somehow it feels like…” Geonwoo paused briefly, searching for the right words. “Like everyone suddenly started pretending they never knew me at all.”
Xinlong looked at him quietly without interrupting.
“I know idols live off people’s opinions,” Geonwoo continued softly. “But reading all those comments… it just felt really strange.”
The sound of passing cars rushed between them, swallowing the end of his sentence for a moment.
Geonwoo lowered his head slightly.
“They talk like I’m some horrible person.”
Xinlong tightened his grip around the ramen cup in his hands.
“Were you angry?” he asked carefully.
Geonwoo gave a small shake of his head.
“At first, yeah.” The corners of his lips lifted faintly, bitterly. “But after that, I just got confused.”
“Confused?”
“Do I really look that awful, Xinlong?”
The words fell so naturally from his lips.
No dramatic tone.
No visible hurt.
And somehow, that made it worse. Because Geonwoo said something so painful with nothing more than a quiet smile, Xinlong felt his own chest tighten painfully, as though someone had reached inside and started tearing at his heart.
Slowly, he turned fully toward Geonwoo now, setting the ramen cup he could no longer finish because of the spice onto the empty seat beside him.
The dim light from the bus stop fell softly across Geonwoo’s face. The dark circles beneath his eyes looked painfully obvious now. Even the shoulders that always seemed so straight and dependable appeared lower than usual, like someone who had been carrying too much alone for far too long.
Xinlong opened his mouth, then closed it again. There were so many things he wanted to say.
That Geonwoo was not a bad person.
That every member already knew that.
That the curse had been directed at himself because things had not gone the way he wanted.
That people on the internet loved choosing whatever fragments of a story suited them best.
But somehow, every comforting sentence he could think of felt painfully small compared to the exhaustion written all over Geonwoo’s face right now.
So in the end, Xinlong only spoke softly.
“I’ve never been scared of you, hyung.”
Geonwoo slowly turned toward him.
Still staring straight ahead, Xinlong continued quietly,
“If you were really a bad person, hyung, I would’ve known a long time ago.”
The night wind drifted gently between them once more, filling the empty space before disappearing again and leaving the two of them behind in silence.
Geonwoo did not answer right away.
His throat felt tight with something he could not quite explain.
Because strangely enough, out of every comforting thing people had told him over the past few weeks, it was that simple sentence that felt the most sincere.
Slowly, Geonwoo lowered his head.
The ramen cup in his hands had already begun to turn cold, yet he still held onto it tightly, as though the little remaining warmth inside it was still worth protecting. Cars continued streaming endlessly along the road ahead, headlights flashing past before disappearing into the distance.
The world kept moving like usual.
And somehow, tonight, that thought felt slightly more comforting than it normally did.
Beside him, Xinlong quietly tried to continue eating, giving Geonwoo space without forcing him to speak again. Every now and then, the soft sound of wooden chopsticks tapping against the rim of the cup slipped through the night air.
Geonwoo glanced at him quietly.
This boy was always like this. His Xinlong had always been like this.
Never particularly good at comforting people with grand words.
But somehow, always knowing how to stay.
“I thought…” Geonwoo finally spoke again after a long silence, his voice so soft it nearly disappeared beneath the noise of passing cars, “you guys would start keeping your distance too.”
Xinlong immediately turned toward him.
“Why would we?”
“I don’t know.”
Geonwoo laughed quietly, though his eyes remained empty as they stayed fixed on the road ahead.
“People are usually scared of being associated with something bad.”
Xinlong frowned slightly at that.
“You think I care about that?”
“You’re an idol too.”
“So?”
The answer came so quickly that Geonwoo finally turned fully toward him. Xinlong stared back with a flat expression, as though the question itself made no sense.
“I know you, hyung,” he said again, quieter this time. “Why would I trust random people online spreading baseless rumors over someone I actually know?”
Geonwoo fell silent.
Something inside his chest ached warmly at the same time hearing that.
Maybe it was because these past few weeks, Geonwoo had spent too much time reading the words of strangers that he had slowly forgotten what it felt like to be trusted by someone who truly knew him.
Xinlong gently stirred the remaining noodles in his ramen before continuing,
“Besides, if you were actually yelling at someone, hyung, your voice would’ve been way scarier.”
A short, startled laugh escaped Geonwoo immediately.
“What are you even saying?”
“I’m serious,” Xinlong said, laughing quietly now too.
Geonwoo shook his head, trying to hide the faint smile that had finally appeared on his face.
“I was really just frustrated at myself back then.”
“I know, hyung. I always know.”
Xinlong answered lightly, as though the truth had always been that simple.
Geonwoo stared at him for a few seconds longer.
Xinlong was looking straight ahead again now, this time finally setting the ramen cup beside his feet. The streetlights reflected faintly in his eyes, making them look warm despite the increasingly colder night air.
Then suddenly, Geonwoo realized something.
“Xinlong.”
“Hm?”
“You still haven’t said it.”
Xinlong turned toward him, confused. “Said what?”
Geonwoo looked at him for a few moments before the corners of his lips lifted slightly.
“Happy birthday.”
Xinlong froze instantly.
“Huh?”
“You searched for me in the middle of the night, bought ramen, and sat with me at a freezing bus stop.” Geonwoo held back a laugh. “But you still haven’t actually said happy birthday.”
Panic immediately flashed across Xinlong’s face, the tips of his ears slowly turning red.
“I—uh—”
Geonwoo finally laughed properly this time, his shoulders trembling slightly. Xinlong stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds before laughing too, embarrassed.
“Oh my God…” he muttered, hiding part of his face behind the sleeve of his hoodie. “I forgot.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I was too focused on looking for you, hyung.”
Geonwoo was still laughing softly when Xinlong hurriedly lowered his arm again.
“Happy birthday, hyung.”
This time, he said it seriously.
His eyes stayed fixed on Geonwoo.
No teasing.
No casualness.
And somehow, it was that simple sentence that finally made something inside Geonwoo slowly fall apart.
Because after spending the entire day trying to convince himself that April 11th was just another ordinary day this year, someone still came looking for him before it ended.
Geonwoo had thought no one would remember his special day.
When he woke up that morning, he had chosen not to expect anything at all. He understood that everyone was busy preparing for their first comeback. Everyone was exhausted. No one really had room left in their head for something as small as a birthday.
So when he found himself facing the warmth hidden inside Xinlong’s eyes, along with the cheap cups of ramen they had quietly shared beneath the dim bus stop lights, Geonwoo had no choice but to feel overwhelmed by an endless ache of fondness.
After drowning in the darkness of Xinlong’s gaze for nearly thirty seconds, Geonwoo suddenly pulled him into a warm embrace.
He held Xinlong as though it was the end of the world.
As though tomorrow no longer existed for either of them.
Xinlong startled at the sudden hug, his position turning slightly awkward—his legs still facing forward while the rest of his body instinctively folded perfectly into Geonwoo’s embrace. Half of his face disappeared against Geonwoo’s chest, leaving only his eyes visible as they quietly stared toward the broad line of Geonwoo’s back.
The hands that had initially hung awkwardly at his sides slowly lifted to return the hug, gently rubbing soothing circles against Geonwoo’s back.
For now, they allowed themselves to stay like this.
The other members and managers probably panicking after realizing neither of them could be found anywhere in the dorm could wait until later.
Because maybe Xinlong had been the one all along.