Archive of Our Own

Changbin had no idea when he fell in love with Chan.

It could have happened at any point, genuinely. The admiration had always been there, from the very start: the oldest trainee, unrelenting dedication and undeniable talent. Changbin felt like a fish out of water when he joined, and then he found a mortal enemy in Jisung, which lasted a total of two days until they actually realized they mixed really well, but it took some time with Chan.

He wasn’t into clingy back then, still trying to keep the dark persona, which was hilarious to remember. Especially because Jisung was pretty clingy (well, after you managed to break his brash maverick persona) and Changbin never seemed to mind.

That high-level trainee, the Bang Chan guy, though? He was a wall. Whenever Changbin would get a look at him in practices, dance classes and whatnot, he'd find him the same way: either quiet, in his own little corner, drowning in black though his skin was pretty pale, or kicking ass so hard it made Changbin feel completely inept.

And that Bang Chan guy was pretty damn good at everything. His voice was smooth, and had such a nice timbre. His style of singing was R&B-like, with fast runs and a delicious tendency to sing harmonies out of nowhere; it was his special super-power. Bang Chan could harmonize with everything. It wasn't fair. 

Imagine his surprise when Jisung dragged him during lunch to speak to the Bang Chan?

“Hyung's a bit moody, but he’s a nice person!” Jisung blabbered, when he dragged Changbin to the same desk as a… could Changbin called him a human? It was a black void. Black hoodie, black jeans, black beanie that almost covered his entire head, but it’s not like Changbin could see his eyes anyway, holed too deep into whatever he was working on. 

The guy spoke with Jisung with a low, raspy voice, and he was pretty monosyllabic, but it only took a quick exchange for Changbin to understand why Jisung was joining them. 

“You rap?” The guy — Bang Chan — asked, now looking at them. He was pretty pale. Set jaw, sharp features. Strong eyes. Huge lips. Wait, what?

“Yeah. I mean, kinda-”

“I destroyed him yesterday, hyung-”

“No, he did not,” Changbin challenged, and the fire in his voice seemed to spur something on the guy, who quirked his head.

“Do you have any material?” he asked, and Changbin shook his head no.

“I never did freestyle for real before. That was the first time. And he didn’t destroy me.”

Changbin wasn’t sure why he was defending his honor as a rapper for Bang Chan of all people. 

“You didn’t audition as a rapper?” Bang Chan pressed.

“No, as a dancer.”

Jisung batted him away, like Changbin was speaking rubbish. “We’re forming an independent rap group! It’s just a duo right now, but-”

Something tickled Changbin’s brain. The way Bang Chan asked the questions. Like it was a screening, or a job interview. It was Changbin's time to quirk his head in curiosity. “Do you produce? A trainee?”

Chan gave him a smirk. The first display of emotion in that entire interaction. “I do.”

“That’s cool,” Changbin said, because it was. Not a lot of people were self-produced from the beginning. Not even 2PM. Well, Big Bang was, but they were Big Bang. BTS did their own stuff as well, but their company wasn't as big as JYP. It was still impressive, but the pressure was different. Changbin didn't expect JYP to be the place to allow that kind of thing.

And Chan wanted to make an independent rap group? At JYP? Every word of that sounded absurd, but at the same time, incredibly alluring.

“He also sleeps in the top bunk,” Jisung said. “And is an elite trainee.”

Chan rolled his eyes, and then immediately closed his laptop when his phone rang. “I need to go. I have a meeting now.”

“With the PDs? Are they picking your-” Jisung perked up, but Chan shushed him.

“Don’t jinx it,” Chan hissed, but he had an amused smile on his face as he raised from his seat. Then, he turned to Changbin. “Nice to meet you. Maybe I’ll hear you rap one of these days, Changbin-ah.”

Changbin nodded instead of answering, like an idiot, and then Bang Chan walked out. The only thing Changbin could register as he walked out was that while Chan wasn’t that tall, he was taller than Changbin. The way his stomach churned in response was weird.

When Chan heard Changbin rap, it was maybe a week later, in one of the mixed classes with different trainee levels. It was a performance class. He wasn’t even supposed to rap, but Changbin volunteered when the instructor proposed an open mic, and was already standing before he could regret it. It was horrible. He flubbed one too many lines in a very messy freestyle rap about being awesome (which he wasn’t), but the only thing he could focus on was Chan’s smirk over the clear bags under his eyes. He was still drowning in black, this time with even the hood over a black cap, but the amusement was palpable. 

Maybe he found Changbin hilarious. Maybe Changbin was embarrassing himself. Shit. Burning bridges with the top trainee in the damn company in his first month was a personal best. 

“Hey,” Chan squeezed his shoulder, as the other trainees were weaving their way out of the rehearsal room after the class was over and Changbin was still tying his shoes. “Nice job.”

“I am hotter than a bowl of jjigae is not exactly top-notch poetry,” Changbin smirked. 

“It’s not,” Chan shrugged. “But it’s a start. You have a nice rhythm. Not everyone knows how to not chase the beat from the get go. It’s cool.”

“Thanks.”

“If you ever write anything, let me know. Or, let Jisung know. Either way.”

Changbin did. Something drew him to that guy. Another thing drew him to Jisung, but it was different. They were a unit, for sure, but maybe it was the fact that Changbin was older than Jisung or that Chan was so… closed off, while Jisung was such a hellhole of energy and snark. That dynamic basically begged for Changbin to be in the middle ground, bringing balance.

And whatever his gut feeling was, Changbin was right to follow it. Two months into his training, many writing sessions later in Chan and Jisung’s dorm bedroom and a newfound love for songwriting built over every free time slot he had with Jisung later, 3RACHA was born.

There was a very palpable sense of excitement when they started to actually pump out playable songs. Like the three of them all knew this was special. It changed their attitude, not meaning they got cocky (that shit was just a stage act), but bringing a sense of direction and authorship. They didn’t just want to debut. They were going to debut together.

3RACHA also meant they were together all the time. And it was just the start, but then 3RACHA started to morph into what would eventually become Stray Kids, and it somehow felt more right, like this was what it was meant to be. Three producers within a group.

Changbin wasn't sure when the admiration turned into something else, maybe it had been there all along, but he did know when he realized he had been in love for a while. 

It happened on Changbin's first Chuseok as a trainee, seven months into his trainee time, five into his 3RACHA time. From his trainee friends who lived in the dorms, even the ones from other companies, Chan was the only one who had no family at all in Korea. And he said it was fine, that he spent Chuseok at the dorm most years to work anyway, but that somehow felt unacceptable for Changbin. Who worked during a holiday like that?

So, Changbin invited (and half-forced) Chan into coming with his family to a cabin in the mountains. He half-expected Chan to be the same person there as he was with the instructors. People-pleasing, super polite and respectful. And he was, in a way, but also in a completely new way.

Chan helped carry everyone's bags, offered to go to the store with Changbin's dad and cook every meal with whoever was in charge, and he did it with a smile, but not with a this is the respectful thing to do, but a I am living the time of my life doing this smile. Chan interacted with Jaehee, Changbin's older sister, not like he interacted with the instructors, but as a noona, because it was the first thing she told him to do. And his smile was corner to corner.

And Changbin knew Chan as the hyung, the guy everyone looked up to (and feared in a way, if they were not in his inner circle like Jisung, Hyunjin, Jeongin and some of his older friends who already debuted), he rarely could see the dongsaeng Chan at play. He knew it existed at one point, Chan lived with GOT7's Bambam and DAY6's Young K for a very long time and every time they bumped into the Twice noonas they spoke softly with him, but that wasn't meant for Changbin to see.

On the very first night, Jaehee had the idea of getting the three of them to go out for a walk around the village. According to her, there was a viewpoint that had a great view of the mountains and cities down below. Chan was jumping out of the sofa in a minute, ready to go see, and Changbin didn't take longer.

And he was absolutely delightful. Changbin never saw Chan that happy before. Which, on second thought, was kind of sad. Why wasn't he that happy usually? Now he was giggling like a fool, smiling at every little thing he saw, picking insects (which, gross) and noticing birds in such a way that made his eyes squeeze into tiny crescents and his dimples to show, and he looked so much better like that than his usual demeanor, tired, pale, in all black, almost trying to hide whenever he wasn't performing.

As they took a break near a viewpoint, Chan leaned over the railing looking to the night skies, and then exhaled.

“There are so many stars here,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. And true, there was, but that was normal, right?

“Well, you can't see stars in the city,” Changbin leaned by his side.

“In Sydney you can,” Chan replied, eyes still up. The moon made his eyes extra shiny. He looked fascinated. “I used to look up at my bedroom window and count stars until I fell asleep.”

Changbin hummed. Such a thing would be impossible in Seoul. Or in Yongin, where he was born and lived. Too much air pollution. But it was probably nice. He didn't answer right away, because Changbin found himself lost in the shine of Chan's eyes. Maybe it was how close they were, or the moonlight getting his pale skin lit just right. He had freckles.

He was beautiful, his mind concluded. Like it was completely logical, and normal, and-

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“If I had this view, I wouldn't be able to sleep at all,” Changbin blurted out, because the silence had been too long and he had been staring at Chan's face over the last minute or so. “I'd get too distracted counting stars or something.”

“Yeah, probably,” Chan smiled, but there was now a shadow of that lingering tiredness.

“Hey, loverboys!” Jaehee called, from where she was standing. “Let's go!”

“Shut up!” Changbin shot back, trying to hide how his whole face went red by pulling away from the railing. “Sorry, she's stupid.”

“It's okay,” Chan gave him the same contained smile he gave everyone else, and it felt so wrong. So Changbin decided not to think about it and run towards Jaehee, without checking to see if Chan would follow, because he knew he would.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Chan said, when they were going to bed on their last night at the house, each one of their own twin beds. “I truly loved it.”

“My eomma loved you, too,” Changbin blurted out. “She said whenever you'd want to come over, you're invited.”

Chan giggled, as he tucked himself in. “I'd love that.”

And then, after a beat, he added, with a whisper. “I miss my eomma.”

Changbin looked back at him from his own bed. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Chan said, but the way he did it sounded so not okay. He had a heavy voice, like he could burst into tears at any moment. “Night, Bin.”

He turned to face the wall and pretended to be asleep, while Changbin pretended he bought it.

It was only then that it dawned on Changbin why Chan was so happy over those few days. He had lived in a dorm for the last five years of his life. He missed so many Chuseoks. He missed his younger siblings growing up. His life was JYP, and Chan didn't see his parents a lot. He didn't fight with them or anything that Changbin knew about, it was just hard for them to come to Korea and Chan also didn't have a lot of free time. Maybe it was too expensive for them?

Either way, Chan had so much fun with Changbin's family because, when it came down to it, he didn't really have any family dynamic at all right now. And he trusted Changbin enough to actually feel at home and let go of the dependable and steadfast leader role he always filled with everyone else. He giggled with Changbin's dad while he was taught how to use the barbecue, and accepted head pats from his mom when she jokingly called him a chef for using proper knife technique to cut vegetables. Changbin had spent enough time at his dorm to know he cooked for the boys most of the time, and he taught Jisung how to use a knife.

But he couldn't make it weird. Not for Chan as his friend, and group partner, and probably leader. Changbin had seen a part of Chan he suspected no one was privy too. A vulnerability he could guess he wasn't too eager to share.

Most importantly, Changbin couldn't make it weird because he was most definitely sure now that he had the hugest crush on Chan and his full lips, and his wounded heart, and, fuck. That would be too weird, imagine that?

Chan was a beautiful person, inside and out. He was also pretty lonely outside of his little dorm. He had loads of friends, but he rarely hung out with them because Chan worked all the time. Even Young K-hyung resorted to texting quite literally any of the boys to get a hold of Chan at one point. So, instead of stressing him with crushes and being weird, Changbin chose instead to be a support. He dragged Chan out of the studio whenever he would try to stay for longer even after Jisung and Changbin said they'd be leaving because it was too fucking late. He'd drag Chan to every hangout and family holiday they'd make up.

And he never told Chan about the weird feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

Changbin regretted that so much, but at the same time, he cherished the three amazing years with Chan, which developed into such a close friendship it almost felt like it would be enough sometimes. 

Changbin almost told him multiple times.

On his own birthday. Or when Chan brought Jisung and Jeongin as a surprise on his graduation day and Changbin could cry. Or whenever he came back from a meeting and always tried to hide how tired he was. When they all moved in together, Changbin ended up sharing a room with him, which was a coincidence that mostly meant they shared Chan's bunk most nights. They braved through pre-debut together. As 3RACHA, Stray Kids, but Changbin and Chan, too. In a way. Or maybe he was delusional.

Some days, Changbin thought there might be something there, something that could grow into a reciprocal… whatever-ship between them. But he never said anything.

Then, as he was setting up for a movie date (well, not a date date, just a couple of guys being together, like, as normal guys) to get Chan's mind off their incoming debut, Yun-seong-hyung walked into the dorm and summoned all of them to a meeting.

“Chan-hyung's not here,” Jeongin said immediately.

“Get your things, y'all,” Yun-seong waved him off, or better, he didn't even bat an eye. “We leave in five. I'll wait in the car.”

Changbin's knee-jerk reaction was feeling guilty for the movie plans falling apart after Changbin hyped Chan so much about it. And then, less than half an hour later, they were informed by Yun-seong and Div1 that Chan had just resigned and they had to go home while the company figured out the next steps.

“What?” was the only thing he could say. Truly, anyone. “Why?”

“He just signed the severance terms,” the executive said.

“We need to talk to him-”

“Unfortunately, that won't be possible.”

They all looked around, completely lost, and Changbin realized they were mostly staring at him. Because sure, while Minho was the actual oldest after Chan, Changbin and Jisung were 3RACHA with Chan. They built the artistic vision for Stray Kids from the ground up with Chan.

And Chan was gone. So that meant it was his job now.

Changbin fought, at first, rising from his seat and everything. “What the fuck do you mean, not possible? Everything we did together is-”

“Going on exactly as usual. We'll just need to re-record the former member's voice.”

“Chan's a vital part of Stray Kids!”

“According to the resignation term he signed, no, he's not. And you won't discuss this situation in public, nor are you going to mention him again.”

“We need to know why-” Minho tried to join Changbin, but they were both dismissed.

“It is what it is. You're debuting in three weeks. Rest, come back to re-record, and we'll deal with it accordingly.”

It took a while for the reality of it to settle. He mostly drifted as each one of them was placed in a car to go home (even Jeongin, but on a train back to Busan) for the three free days they were given. He knocked at the door and was welcomed by Jaehee.

“Did you just see a ghost?” she asked, but Changbin didn't find it funny.

He tried to call Chan, but no calls went through. He used the house's landline, eomma's phone, Jaehee's, appa's and finally concluded that Chan either blocked everyone or turned off his phone. Which of them was more believable he wasn't sure, because any of this made any fucking sense.

Chan loved Stray Kids. Chan loved them. He'd do anything for them. He wouldn't just drop everything so close to the finishing line. Which meant something happened to change his mind.

Did he just… give up? He couldn't. He was so excited about it.

Changbin couldn't pick what hurt the most to think about, Chan leaving Stray Kids and everything they worked on behind, or Chan leaving him. What if he felt weird about Changbin's proximity? They slept together the very last night, and they did it a lot. Changbin called the movie thing a date.

Did he get the wrong message? Was he angry?

He wasn't sure when the emptiness turned into anger. Probably as the days went by and they had no sign of Chan even being alive. As Changbin and Minho were dragged from meeting to meeting, having to decide who's going to be the leader. Changbin and Jisung had to scramble to find recording time and drag Seungmin and Jeongin to fill Chan's lines. The amount of rework they needed to do, retake group shots, re-record promotional material, re-plan choreographies and oh, the media-

At some point, the worry about Chan's wellbeing turned into a deep sense of betrayal, because how could he? They were supposed to be doing this together. Changbin wasn't prepared for most of this shit, because they always did it together.

By the time the debut concert happened, Changbin only felt exhausted. And sad. Because there was a void in every dance formation and every vocal section, but mostly in his heart. He missed Chan's laugh. He missed his stubbornness, and his work ethic, and his dedication. But that same guy, loyal to a fault, loud lover, was now ignoring his texts, emails, calls, and Changbin didn't know why.

Not knowing why turned into frustration, and then Changbin realized anger was a hell of a fuel.

And yeah, debuting wasn't like they all had planned, 7 instead of 8, but it was just as important and Changbin was going to give his all just as much, if not more due to the added responsibility of keeping the boat afloat, now shared with Minho. Changbin dealt with the music, Minho dealt with stages. Same burden, different responsibilities. While having two leaders in a group without subunits was definitely unheard of, nothing they did was exactly conventional anyway.

Even with things working, it took a while for them to forget Chan.

“I'm sorry,” Minho confided to him once, as they shared a bottle of soju on a free night. “I know this probably isn't what you expected.”

There was something on the way he said it, as if it meant more than just the leader or a group lineup thing, but Changbin did not dwell on it.

“It's working,” he said, downing his shot. “We make a good duo. You and me, me and Jisung, you and Hyunjin and Felix, Min and Iyen-ah, we're all a hell of a machine. Who needs him, anyway.”

“Come on, man, not even you believe that,” Minho smiled, but there was sadness there. “You were closer to him than any of us. That's natural. I don't want you to ruminate by yourself. If you want to… you know, talk about it.”

They never really did. Minho just got the short end of the stick sometimes by virtue of his position. Changbin wasn't going to be the one to bring down morale for the others, so he found it easier to just get shitface drunk with Minho every free night at a hotel or whatever they had going on. He would cry sometimes, or curse at no one, and Minho would always listen and empathize.

Though the anger didn't really go away, it was easier to stop thinking about it as their career progressed. Things went well, despite all that. Despite the lack of answers. Despite Chan. Because they were fucking good as shit. Chan just became a footnote in his story that fans eventually forgot and stopped asking about, and it would slip their minds too during the grueling routine. Album after album, ambassadorship after ambassadorship, tour after tour, comeback after comeback or variety show participation. Chan's work was still there, but so was Changbin and Jisung's.

They didn't need him, anyway. It was what Changbin always told himself when they started winning awards consistently and he'd out of nowhere picture Chan giving the speech. When they had full arenas singing to their songs, and he wished for a second Chan was there to see it.

Why couldn't he even say goodbye?

Outside of Changbin's mind, Chan was a dirty word that no one touched on. The company acted like he never existed, but that made some sense. Everyone who left was supposed to not be mentioned. But even the guys avoided mentioning him as time went on. Well, most of the time.

On the occasions they did, it started to make Changbin full-on mad. 

“Why are you thinking about that? We're fine,” he'd say, whenever Hyunjin would mention a group memory on the original lineup.

“We don't need him,” he'd say, when Jisung would comment that when they were 3RACHA they were able to wrap more songs way quicker. And he'd be right, but it still sucked.

“I don't care,” he said when Felix said he had found out Chan was now going to university in Sydney. He even had a picture of some competition Chan participated in, which he refused to see. Well, he refused to give it attention when he had Felix's (and the others’) eyes on him, but he did Google later to see. Chris B., University of Technology Sydney, varsity swimming team. Of course he'd turn into a fucking jock.

“I don't need life advice, thanks,” he'd snark when Minho — well, Lee Know, which was how Changbin called him whenever he had the leader voice on and tried to get Changbin to do something he did not want to do, which was mildly a jerk move on Changbin's part but worked like a charm — would tell him he should maybe talk to someone about the fact that it had been three full years and Changbin still went into either a blind rage or shutdown move when he thought of Chan.

“I don't,” he would say when Jeongin tried to be the bigger person and say some conciliatory shit like we all miss him because he thought it would make everything better.

He'd never have to say anything to Seungmin, because Seungmin never talked to him about it either. However, it was always Seungmin who would sit by his side when Changbin would inevitably snap and say everything with just a look.

You still miss him. You still love him.

It was hard not to.

After he learned what to look for, Changbin couldn't stop going back every now and then. Chris B. Changbin could only find an ID-style photo for the swimming team page and the blurriest competition pics ever known to man, not even allowing himself enough time to think why Chan would go to the trouble of going by a completely different arrangement of his name that did not involve Korean at all, but he obviously got it. Chan didn't want to be associated with Stray Kids in any capacity, and yeah it sucked, and yeah Changbin was pissed about it, but could he say it made no sense? Probably not.

But he had those blurry ass pictures, at least, to see how much he had changed in three years. He was studying Design, apparently. His hair was back to its natural color. He still had broad shoulders and sharp features. Did Chan search for Changbin in his free time too? Or did he truly move on?

When Felix brought on the idea of finding Chan so that they would talk about what happened for the first time, it led to a huge fight. It was bad, but at least it was just Changbin and Felix. Felix called him a cunt, Changbin called him delusional. They both regretted it after, of course, and mutually apologized, but the message was clear: stay the fuck away from him.

Changbin should not have been surprised when it was brought up the second time. However, a sliver worse, because it was Jisung who did it. And not just as a “hyung, we should see him, he’s still a part of us”, but as a “I think he would help us”.

“Help on what? We don't need help,” it was his immediate response, even though Changbin knew what would be the answer.

“Hyung, we are almost done with our backlog. I did write new songs, you too, but… it's still not enough for a new album,” Jisung answered, composed and logical. They were at the studio, after wasting three hours in a demo both of them knew wasn't good. “We both know things were different-”

“So fucking what? Are you saying I can't handle doing my job like Channie-hyung?”

“No, hyung-”

“I'm here. He's not,” Changbin spat. “He couldn't care enough to say goodbye.”

“Have you ever considered he could have been fired? They told us he left but-”

“Oh,” Changbin turned to him. “You're making up theories now?”

“Is that so crazy to think, hyung? Really? Why else would they forbid even putting his name on the things he worked on, even if he's not here? The things we are still using!”

“Because he severed his contract, Jisung!”

“Are you defending the company, now?”

“No! I'm saying it was his choice!”

“And what if it wasn't?”

Deep down, he knew there was some merit to Jisung's line of questioning. But thinking about that meant reframing four entire years of coping. So, fuck no.

“If he gave a shit, he'd be here, Jisung-ah,” Changbin grabbed his bag and left, slamming the door on the way out.

The gym was good for one thing above all else: volume. Every thought, every circling worry, was eventually drowned out by the physical, by the sound of plates and the rhythm of his own breathing. Changbin had learned that a long time ago, probably somewhere around year two, when the absence of Chan had calcified into something permanent, merely scar tissue, and the only thing that still made sense was moving heavy things and putting them down.

He pushed through his sets methodically. Getting big wasn't something JYP was super keen on (he still got the you look like a pig comment every now and then), but building muscle had been one of Changbin's favorite parts of having the infrastructure they had as big names now. The favorite activity that did not involve music in any capacity. It was his safe haven whenever the failures of his music career became a bit too much.

The studio still felt stale behind his eyes, the failure of the demo, Jisung's voice. He just thought it'd make everything better.

Have you ever considered he could have been fired?

Changbin racked the bar harder than he needed to.

It was a stupid theory. It was a desperate theory. A way of rewriting four years of silence into something more palatable than the obvious conclusion, which was that Chan made a choice. Not Stray Kids. Not Changbin. Himself.

He grabbed water, sat on the edge of the bench, and let himself breathe. Changbin had never actually sat down and thought the theory through. He had rejected the frame every time someone offered it because thinking it through meant entertaining the possibility, and entertaining the possibility meant the last three years had been built on a wrong assumption. That the anger he had nursed into a kind of fuel was pointed in the wrong direction. That the betrayal he had organized his whole understanding of Chan around was something he had invented out of necessity.

That the company had lied.

They told us he left. Their staff, Div1, Yun-seong, JYP told them that. 

But Chan loved them. He loved Stray Kids. Changbin could still see it if he thought about it hard enough over their three years of pre-debut work, the look on Chan's face when they'd crack something in the studio at two in the morning, the way he'd sit back in the chair when he knew a song was right. No one performed that. You couldn't fake it for seven years. Chan was the best actor among them, the theater kid of the bunch, but even he was pretty bad when he didn't have a bit.

So either Chan had somehow walked away from everything he loved without a word, and without ever trying to explain himself afterward (not even to Jisung, his first kid!) or he was in fact fired.

Changbin pressed his palms into his knees and stared at the floor.

Three years. Three years of being angry, of running from everything that threatened to look like grief, of telling himself he did not need Chan to carry his own weight, of watching Chan's absence reshape everything about how Stray Kids functioned and deciding that was fine, that it was better, that they were better. He had gotten so good at it.

But if Jisung was right, even partially, then what Changbin had done with those three years was to grieve the wrong thing. Was losing so much time to anger.

He didn't let himself finish the thought. He packed his bag and went to the shower, and then back home.

The thing to tick him off that there was something else going on was finding Felix in his apartment. Changbin had left him at the company. It was late at night. Actually, everyone was there. Jisung and Minho were by the sofa, Jeongin and Seungmin at the kitchen island, Hyunjin on the floor, arranged in a way that looked casual but wasn't. It was tense.

Changbin stood in the doorway and took it in. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Ok, hey, um…” Felix started, and just by looking at his face Changbin knew he'd finish that night being mad. And sad. And everything in-between. “I have an idea, but it kind of is for all of us.”

“Sure,”

“There's a TV show in Australia I think we should participate in.”

“Oh,” Changbin leaned back, because that was not what he was expecting to hear. “What's it about?”

“Music, mostly. It's an interview-slash-live session style of show. They ask us for our playlist and we tell stories related to the songs we pick,” Felix kept his pitch going, and something about it struck Changbin the wrong way.

“Why are you proposing and not our media team? Did they reach out to us?”

Felix cringed. “Well, no, not yet. But I heard from a publicist that they're starting to scout talent, and they might want to do k-pop. I am proposing we reach out to our team and propose to join, because it can match our time there. For the tour.”

Changbin clicked his tongue. “For the tour.”

“Yeah.”

“I like it!” Jisung said, cheery tone completely clashing with Changbin's hesitation. “I've never been to a variety show outside of Asia.”

Felix nodded effusively.

“I also think it might be interesting, if we get it,” Hyunjin said. “We usually need to reach out to people for opportunities anyway. Did you get a contact?”

“Yeah, kind of. I can get Div1 to look into it, if we're all in agreement.”

Changbin eyed Minho, who eyed him back and nodded. “I don't see why not.”

It was only when the confirmation emails came through, scheduling the shooting for some days before their Sydney stop, that Changbin took the time to look at the channel and maybe check the address for the studio.

When Changbin opened Google Maps, he found out that the broadcasting company was right beside University of Technology Sydney, which was hilariously ironic. Every nice thing that happened reminded him of Chan, if not from inside out it was slapped across his face like this.

But that also gave him a nagging feeling. Could he…? He was a designer. It had been four years now, Chan must have graduated already. And no one could say he didn't have experience in the music industry. Did he…

He was knocking on Felix's door in a second. Desperately, almost banging at it.

“Jesus H. Christ, did someone die?” Seungmin grumbled when he opened the door. He seemed to have been woken up mid-nap. “All units have a doorbell.”

“Where's Felix?” he asked, barging in.

“The fuck is going on?” Felix appeared from his room, gaming headset in hand.

“I am going to ask you one thing and I need you to answer me straight,” Changbin said, voice carrying all the seriousness he could muster without losing his shit. “Did the idea for doing this show come from you genuinely wanting to participate on an Australian show, or because there's something to do with Chan I don't know about?”

His lack of response was the answer Changbin needed. Seungmin's eyes shot between the both of them, as if he had no idea where to put his own head in.

“Are you in contact with him?” Changbin asked, and this time he was scared of the answer. Felix and Chan were also super close. Closer in a way Chan and Changbin could never be. They lived together for longer. Chan called Felix a little piece of home. Maybe-

“No, no!” Felix waved his hand around, and Changbin exhaled in surprising relief. “I only found out he works on the broadcasting company-”

“What-”

“But he's not related to the shooting by any means, not that I know of!” Felix kept going before Changbin could protest. “I just thought it'd be an opportunity for us to talk-”

Changbin was so mad.

“Ok, that's it. Team meeting,” Changbin said. “Right now.”

He didn't wait for Felix's objection. He was already moving down the hall, stopping at Hyunjin and Jeongin's door first since it was right beside Felix and Seungmin's, and Jeongin had clearly been listening to the fight because he opened it before Changbin knocked.

Jisung and Minho's door was last.

He knocked once. Then again, stronger.

“If someone's not dead-” Minho's voice came through the wall, and then the door opened and Minho took one look at Changbin's face and pulled it fully open. Jisung appeared behind his shoulder a second later, hair pushed sideways, squinting. His face fell, almost as if he could smell something was up. Well, that and obviously being awaken in the middle of the night. “What's going on?”

“Felix's,” Changbin said. “Now.”

“What the fuck is up? I was having my beauty sleep,” Jisung complained, as he dropped into Felix's sofa without asking for permission. Changbin paid no mind to him. 

“We're going on tour in a couple weeks. Right?” he started.

Minho nodded, and so did the rest, in different levels of confusion. Felix shook his head in frustration. Hyunjin seemed more affected.

“We're shooting the show in Sydney, right?”

“Right.”

“We'll be there for a job,” Changbin said, voice hard. “Not in a quest to find the lost stray or whatever. Bang Chan is not part of Stray Kids anymore, and I would prefer it to stay like this.”

Just by the mention of the name, the mood in the living room shifted. Just not to what Changbin was expecting. He expected some pushback, or at least surprise. But no. They looked more uncomfortable, as if they got caught red-handed.

“What is going on?” He asked, then, because Changbin knew those guys. They were hiding something.

Jisung started. His face was wounded. “Look, we were hoping to discuss this when the tour was already going.”

Changbin's face fell. Jisung cringed. The fucking traitor.

“We just thought it'd be an opportunity for us to understand-”

“We're not reaching out to him,” he cut Jisung off.

“Binnie-”

“Dude, we're over this! We discussed this so many times!”

“No, you shot it down every time anyone brought it up!” Felix shot back. “We get it that your feelings are hurt, but ours are too! Chan was one of us too, our friendship mattered-”

“If it mattered so much, why did he drop you all without even saying goodbye? He couldn't even look at any of your faces. And then you'd be all sad and depressed again, and who's the jackass who took care of you? It wasn't Chan-hyung. It was Minho and I.”

“We don't know if he dropped us!”

“It's been years, Felix!” Changbin barely screamed. No Lixie. He was too mad for it. “Please, move on! We're good, we have a sustainable career, we're all doing great!”

“We could meet him at the shooting,” Jeongin said. “We could ask him. He works there. We could ask him, and then we'd have an answer, and it wouldn't matter, because either way we're together. But we would know.”

Changbin turned to Jeongin. “How do you know he works there?”

Jeongin opened his mouth, hesitating for a second. “We… might have discussed it before.”

The others collectively cringed. He could only look at Minho. 

“Did you know about this?”

Minho took a deep breath, and Changbin felt like jumping off a bridge. Traitors.

“Look, I-,” he started. “If they want closure, I'd say let them.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“Bin-ah, I just think… We're all adults here.” 

Changbin was pissed. He never considered the option that those motherfuckers would stab him in the back like that.

“You know what? Fine. When he disappoints all of you again, I will not deal with the fallout.”

He could hear Minho trying to call him, but Changbin was already halfway into walking inside his bedroom and slamming the door locked, heart pounding, unsure if it was because of the ire he felt right now or because the mere idea of seeing Chan again made his limbs heavy and his knees shaky.

He couldn't allow his heart to build the hope that this could lead to anything other than disappointment. It was unbearable the first time.

Changbin wasn't sure he ever stopped loving Chan.