people watching | b.c
no. 4 of my song collection
featuring: producer!chan x ceo!reader, and the rest of stray kids in varying positions in the music industry
word count: 12352
warnings: pg13, quite a bit of swearing, vomit, alcohol, rooftops (?), crying if you don't like that, angst
summary â youâre a hurricane, and chan knows this all too well. youâre the one who crashed into his life on a regular afternoon, bringing him into the middle of an industry heâs always been at the edges of. he would never like to fall in love with his boss, but youâre a lovable tornado, and for all your chaos, both of you still love to sit down and take a break. those who know, call it âpeople watchingâ.
playlist. people watching by conan gray ; 18 by one direction ; wolfgang by stray kids ; omg by newjeans ; coping by rosie darling ; dna by lany
a/n: thereâs a little bit of ⊠smau hints here. i guess. iâm not really sure what to call it. also, 12.5K words ? thatâs so crazy. i wanna thank my beloved @blue-jisungs for beta reading this. i know you had a headache n everything but thank you so so much for your comments n feedback, it def feels so much more polished w your help <3 and as always i hope y'all enjoy!
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prologue.
Y/NâS MOTHER WAS A MUSICIAN. A few years back, she started up her own business producing records, but after a while the company still wasn't doing that great. As her child, Y/n took an interest in the company and began to start promoting it better.
You found several producers that you enjoyed listening to music from, and with some promotion (and help from your brother Jisung), everything went swimmingly.
By some miracle or other, the company, SFX labels, accidentally went viral on TikTok. You had Jisung to thank for that, because he was the one who had found Seungmin to manage the online presence of the company. People started taking an interest in your company, and you built up your brand on finding indie music makers and making them big.
Jisung also helped to find amateur musicians or producers with potential, and trained them, teaching them how to become better at their craft.
However, over time and as the company grew, you found your position growing more and more mundane. Your work was boring at best, soul-sucking at times, and you found yourself wondering how you went from passionately enjoying your work to the place you were at.
Your mother suggested you take a break, and you decided to wander around "Lonely St.". It was a little alleyway near your old residence, and was so fondly called because it was a narrow street where many beginner indie musicians frequented. Shops that sold music albums and instruments lined the street. Often shaded, the street was safe from crowds and human traffic was low.
When you were younger, you had often gone there with your mum on visits to see the producers and musicians there. While she tried to strike a deal with them, you would busy yourself with the gadgets and music paraphernalia. Some were expensive, but that was just how music was.
Everyone there was friendly and as you grew into your early twenties, you used to go there for inspiration, bringing home your ideas and channeling them into music. Sometimes your mother would help you develop it, leading to the songs stored on your laptop for nostalgia.
Seeking to rekindle your passion for music, you headed over to Lonely St. and went into the second shop, one with posters tacked up on the wall.
The store was silent, but not eerily so. Instead of cobwebs and dust covering the room, it was all colourful band posters and stickers, all the records neatly stacked up in piles. You barely had enough space to walk, but it only felt cozy, and not too crowded at all.
The decor reminded you of a gothy teenager's room, instruments hidden in the corners and the soft humming of a song playing through the speakers, lyrics indiscernible. Among the magazines and albums you found a man hidden deep inside his work, frowning in concentration.
You cleared your throat and he looked up; you recognised him vaguely but didn't dare to ask. It had been years since you had come to the store, surely he wouldn't remember you from his time working there.
He didn't recognise you, nor did he know that you were now the CEO of a music producing company.
He greeted you in a friendly manner, but looked clearly agitated as he wanted to get back to his work. You dismissed him with a wave, telling him to concentrate on his music while you browsed through old records of musicians you had grown up listening to.
Time passed differently in places like that. Secluded, detached from the outer world, it was so easy to get lost in the dusty archives of history. Songs told tales people didn't understand, like a language with familiar sounds, yet indiscernible the more one tried to listen to it.
In liberal spaces like that, with light filtering through the cluttered windows, you barely realised that two hours had passed. The labyrinth of songs had you hooked, and you would have stayed there all day if you could. You picked up an old CD of an album you vividly remembered playing at your eighteenth birthday party, and picked it up to ask if the man could put it on for a bit.
However, he looked engrossed in his work and you didn't want to disturb him. He worried his lip and tilted his head, groaning softly in frustration. Clearly what he was doing wasn't working for him. You didn't want to disturb him; you knew he would be annoyed, but you needed to go home soon.
You carefully placed the CD case in your hand back down; startled by the sound he glanced up suddenly, realising how silent the store was without the rustling sound of you browsing through the endless albums.
"How may I help you?"
You were tempted to ask him to play you his song, but that might be like intruding on a private part of his soul. You would know how it felt.
You fumbled in your purse for a business card. Would that be too odd? To go, "Hey, I run a company, I think your music would be great even if I haven't heard it yet"? Because you somehow had the gut feeling that he would be perfect, and you knew your instincts never failed you.
You shook your head and dismissed those thoughts. You didnât want to make him feel awkward. Instead, you decided to buy the record, and the man proudly showed you that it had been signed by the singer.
âItâs a little more expensive, though, because of that. Thatâs why it hasnât been bought yet,â he told you sheepishly.
âOh, thatâs fine. I donât mind spending a bit more.â
He clearly expected you to change your mind when he showed you the price, although you knew from experience that signed records tended to sell for much more, so you were already prepared.
It was, after all, a small price to pay for the discovery of the man himself.
HE FREQUENTED YOUR THOUGHTS for the next week. Even buried in work, with papers piling up for you to sign, projects waiting to be approved, people looking to sign with your label, and managers looking to clear the policies on dating for the singers under them, you couldnât stop thinking about him.
The mysterious song producer who made music on the side while he ran a music store along Lonely St. had caught your eye, and was not likely to leave your mind anytime soon.
You really wanted to get to know him better, but you had no time. Besides, people didnât often go to stores with strangers to buy expensive items. Usually, they would go once theyâd established a rapport with the people there. Lonely St. was there for the community, not just the things they sold and the treasure trove of advice and ideas the people harboured.
You tapped your fingers against the table impatiently as someone knocked on your door. You glanced at the clock and sighed. If you could, you would have liked to get off work early, but it was still two hours before your official working hours ended.
âCome in,â you called.
Your assistant, Seungmin, entered the room. Looking around at the mess of papers that lay on your table, he sighed loudly and obviously.
âWhat?â you asked defensively.Â
âI sent the papers in neatly, organising them by manager and then group or singer in order of importance and urgency. I even had different stacks of folders for projects, people looking to sign with us, and policy issues. And you just leave them strewn around? You really donât appreciate my effort, do you?â
You scrunched up your nose. âSorry, Seungmin. Promise I'll get to filing them away later. I'm just not in the mood right now.â
He raised an eyebrow. âIs this because you have too much work? I heard you went to Lonely St. last week. Was the break too short?â
You nod unhappily. âI really want to go back, I think I stumbled across a real gem there. I saw someone making music and I'd love to hear it, he sounds like heâd be great for our label and I want to know what kind of concept he would fit.â
âBut?â
âBut heâs a stranger! I darenât ask, you know how I get about these sorts of things.â
âHm.â Seungmin looked through his phone, then smiled at you. âWell, I think youâre in luck. Jisung just texted me about going to Lonely St. to ârun some errandsâ. He said heâd go with Minho-hyung, but heâs busy with work too. I could fit it in your schedule if you get all of this organised for me to return to everyone whoâs waiting for it.â
You nod. âThat sounds good. So, is tomorrow too soon?â
âNo,â Seungmin said, taking it down. âEnjoy yourself, Y/n-ssi.â
âThanks, Seungminie.â
SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED where Jisung got his upbeat personality from. Personally, you were a very chill person, and both you and Jisung were introverts, like your mother. Your father was more outgoing, but none of you were particularly high in energy besides Jisung.
It was quite intriguing, you mused to yourself, humming quietly as you waited for Jisung to arrive. You were early, but you couldnât disguise your excitement. Youâd finally get to meet the man again! Hopefully, he would be there and not somewhere else. Many of the shop owners took turns hiring different part-timers looking for a side job to make a bit of money while they sought an agent or company willing to take them.
Fortunately for you, Jisung was a lucky charm. You went with him to pick up a few magazines for him to decorate his room. Ever since he was a teenager, heâd been a collector of photos, and whenever a magazine cover featured his favourite artists, he couldnât help but to buy it to add it to his collection.
His room was filled with posters and magazines, but somehow it hadnât turned away any of his friends or lovers.
Once youâd picked up what Jisung wanted, you dragged him by his wrist to the store named âSt(r)ay Awayâ. You loved the play on words, and that was what had drawn your mother in as well when you first went there.
Behind the counter was the man youâd been looking for. He was tapping away at his computer, mouth pursed in concentration. He glanced up when the ringing bell sound signalled your entrance, and smiled at both of you, eyes lighting up when he caught sight of Jisung.
âAh, Jisung, hello! Good to see you again. I see youâve got new magazine covers?â
Jisung grinned proudly. âYep! Look, Twice-sunbaenim even did an interview inside! I canât wait to read it when I get back.â
The man nodded. âAnd this isâŠ?â
âMy sibling, Y/n! they brought me here, actually. Y/n, are you looking for something?â
âYou,â you blurted out, staring incredulously at the man. Seriously, what was it with Jisung and his charm? You could never have made friends with someone the way Jisung did.
âChan?â Jisung asked you, confused. âWhat do you mean?â
âAh, nothing. I was just surprised to see him again. I came here last week, and spoke with him when getting my album. I was particularly interested in what song he was arranging.â
âOh, that. I was just working on a few songs for myself. I'm looking to release them, but I havenât found anyone to help me with that yet,â Chan explained.
âYou know you can always sign with us, hyung.â
âI donât know if I'd fit your concept. And your label is so big! I might be overshadowed and I wouldnât like that.â
âJisungâs right,â you interject. âYouâre welcome to sign with us, if youâd like. hereâs my business card, in case youâd like to speak with me instead ofââ you looked Jisung up and downâ âthis fool.â
Chan stifled a laugh, taking the card from your hands with a slight bow of his head. âI'll consider it.â
âAnd send me a song or two! I'd love to listen to what concept you have going on so I can match you with someone who understands your creative vision.â
Chan bowed his head again. âNice meeting you, Y/n. And thanks for dropping by, Jisung. See yâall next time!â
SEUNGMIN RAPPED IMPATIENTLY on the door. He didnât even wait for you to invite him in, which was odd because on normal days Seungmin did at least have the manners and the dignity to wait for your reply before barging in. He might have had a tongue that was quick to lash out and a well-hidden sailorâs mouth, but he wasnât often rude in terms of entering.
âItâs Minho-hyung,â he managed breathlessly. âI had to run up because the lift wasnât working, but thatâs the message I got downstairs. Minho-hyungâs back in town.â
You swiveled around in your chair and raised an eyebrow skeptically, gesturing for Seungmin to sit and catch his breath, all the while humming as you thought about what this could mean.
Minho was your and Jisungâs childhood best friend. You grew up together, and your fathers played music together on the weekends, while you kids got together for a marshmallow-roasting by the fire. You knew everything about Minho that there was to know about him, and one thing about him was that he simply could not settle down.
He had spent five or six years as a dance teacher by now, having started out young. He was always restless, and it had been you who had suggested he go to a dance lesson with you. Ballet had left a terrible impression on him but a couple years later he did pick up contemporary in school.
He later expanded his repertoire to street jazz and hip hop, and more specific skills like popping and waacking. Two years back, Jisung had invited him to join SFX labels as a choreographer, and each one of his dances had outdone the previous one.
But the thing was⊠Minho never grew out of his restlessness. Even as a young adult, he itched to move about â not just in a physical manner like dancing but on a larger scale, like travelling around. It was lucky for him that he was tall enough and looked good, so you could sign a contract with him as a model under SFX labels. He then had the opportunities to fly around the world and sightsee, all the while earning money and enjoying himself.
It was a really good deal, if you could say so yourself. Perhaps not something that would suit your taste, but to each their own.
Since he had signed on as a model and you stayed in Korea to manage SFX labels, you hadnât been able to meet up with Minho at all. So him coming back to Korea? That was quite the news.
Besides, Minho knew how to make an entrance. He wasnât one for blitzy and glammed up spectacles, but he knew how to do just enough to make heads turn and subtly draw the attention of everyone in the room to himself. He brought his own spotlight wherever he went, and this instance was no exception.
It was interesting that Minho had chosen now to come back, because in two weeksâ time, your company was having a party to celebrate its 5-year anniversary. Your entire family would be there, of course, and even your father, who liked to keep a low profile, would probably have to clean up and make appearances. Just to keep up the reputation.
You hummed away, lost in your thoughts. Seungminâs breathing eased and you turned to him. âIs he free?â
Seungmin shook his head regretfully. âIâve already asked Minho when he arrived. He said he was busy, but he would definitely meet you at the company event. Specifically, Minho wanted to be your plus-one.â
You tilted your head to the side. Minho as your plus-one? That was funny. Usually that would imply that you had some sort of higher rank than him, and although you technically did, he was still older than you by a year and had held that over you throughout your entire life. Besides, Minho had his own invitation. In fact, he should be bringing someone you hadnât met before as his plus-one.
You and Jisung usually went as each otherâs plus-ones, that way you couldnât get into any dating rumours but you also wouldnât look like lonely old people with no friends. You were each otherâs best friends⊠or at least thatâs what you thought.
If Minho wanted to change things up, you werenât going to object. It was time Jisung got an official date, anyway. Wasnât he sick of only ever having lovers for a month? This would be a good change for everyone.
You nodded at Seungmin, right before a notification flashed on your screen. Seungmin excused himself while you clicked on the notification curiously.
You immediately clicked on the files, regretting it only a little. Sure, you had more work to do, but they wouldnât be as interesting as what Chan had sent you.
As expected, Chanâs demo-style sample got you engaged and hooked right from the start. He was very intentional in his use of unconventional sounds (did you just hear someone growl? You hoped not), and it was something refreshingly new from the constant lull of K-pop producers chasing trends.
It was raw, and clearly written just for him. It wasnât really polished the way one cleaned up their works when they wanted to send them to someone. It felt like a first draft, something that definitely had potential but was still in the works.
You couldnât tell if the lyrics were meant to be changed later on but you didnât want him to tweak it much. You enjoyed the use of both English and Korean (though you had to admit, your English wasnât very good, so you had to search up some of the words he used) and the style of the rhyming. His vocals were good, but not polished-strong. It sounded a bit husky, but he could definitely carry a tune and hit the notes he wanted to.
And the rapping definitely caught your attention. Of course you had heard good rappers before, but Chan just stood out somehow. Maybe it was the tone of his voice or his flow, but something was just⊠different. And you liked that.
You didnât know if you had anyone available who could match his style, though, and you told Chan that.
You immediately dialed Seungmin to let him know how things had turned out, and asked him to send your apologies to Minho, and ask him to go with Jisung instead. It was definitely going to be an eventful party.
YOU NEEDED SEUNGMIN. Or Jisung. Or even Minho. Just someone to keep you grounded. The party was too busy and too noisy and you were finally starting to understand why your father preferred to stay at home and chill, because it was absolutely suffocating.
Conversations were happening everywhere, and polite greetings streamed out of your mouth without a second thought. You had to bow to many people but you could barely remember their names, even though you had seen them plenty of times before.
You breathed heavily in and out and your eyes scanned the crowd for Jisung. Where was he? How was he? Would he be able to take over for you while you found somewhere to rest for a bit?
A hand tapped your shoulder and you whirled around, catching sight of a familiar face. Chan. A wave of relief washed over you, and you grabbed his extended hand for support and shook it.
âGlad you could make it.â
âMe too,â he replied. âAre you alright? You look flushed.â
You shook your head. âNo, I need to get away from here. But first, I need to find Jisung.â
Good things must come in series, because you finally spotted Jisung in the crowd, chatting happily away. Your social energy was drained but considering Jisungâs wasnât, you should be okay to leave the scene for a bit.
âJi,â you told him softly in his ear. âI need some fresh air, Iâll pop out for a bit.â He nodded absently and you caught sight of his jacket on a chair. âAnd if youâre not using this, can I borrow it? Iâll return it to you later.â He nodded and waved you off, his conversation never pausing for even a second.
You slid your hands in the jacket, grateful that you and Jisung were of about the same size. It fit like a glove, and was warm enough for you to head outside with Chan, onto the balcony.
The balcony was empty save for one person, gazing out across the wide expanse of Seoul onto the streets, brightly lit by streetlights. A whoosh of cool air hit your face, a breeze whistling past your ears. You quickly shut the door behind Chan, and he hovered behind you, unsure what to do.
The person in question turned, and your eyes met Minhoâs. He was as tall as you remembered, gaze as clear and sharp as it was in your memories. He held his arms out and you collapsed into his embrace, warm and inviting around you. âI missed you,â you murmured.
âMe too.â He got down from the ledge and pulled out a chair for you to sit, finally seeming to notice Chanâs presence.
âOh. Minho, meet Chan. Chan, meet Minho.â You stretched your lips in a nervous smile as Minho gave Chan a once over. You had seen Minho do that before, and it was the most nerve-wracking thing ever. He would slowly trail his eyes down your figure, analysing every piece of clothing you owned, your jewellery, your makeup if you had any, your smile, your eyes, your hands, even the shoes you were wearing.
And, if he deemed you worthy, he would nod. You would sigh in relief, of course. That was only polite.
Chan, however, didnât seem to get the memo. He cocked his head as Minho swept his gaze over him and smiled when Minho nodded, proffering his hand for Minho to shake. Minho took it, and youâof all peopleâsighed in relief.
You gestured for Chan to sit opposite you, and Minho drew himself a chair next to you, crossing one ankle over his knee and leaning back languidly. It almost looked like a challenge to you, but Chan didnât take the bait.
âSooâŠâ
You quickly became engrossed in your discussion with Chan, who, to his credit, ignored Minho for the most part and stayed completely focussed on what you were saying. You managed to discuss a price he was willing to work for, and agreed that he would release a mini album by the end of four months, with the help of one of the agents whom youâd convinced to clear her schedule.
Chan was very agreeable, only offering a different opinion when it came to his work style. He said he preferred to work in âSt(r)ay Awayâ rather than in the studios you had, claiming that the âpeople watchingâ was good for inspiration.
You always wanted to give your artists creative freedom and control over their work environment as far as possible, so you promised to make the necessary arrangements.
Tapping on the glass interrupted you, and you turned your head at the same time as Minho to see an eager Jisung waving excitedly at both of you. Minho got up, engulfing you in another hug.
âDonât drink too much,â he murmured. âTry not to do stupid shit. Yes, youâre a consenting adult, and no, that doesnât make you immune to the influence of alcohol.â You nodded obediently and patted him on the back before he hurried off, anxious to catch Jisung before he got lost among the crowd again.
You sat back down and watched Chan out of the corner of your eye. As you talked with Minho, he had watched you carefully as well, noting the soft, protective tone that Minho spoke with and the ease with which you agreed. He had pulled his phone out of his pocket and began furiously typing away, humming to himself as he did so.
Curious, you thought. That was what you did when you got inspiration as well.
The lights inside seemed to get brighter as the night sky darkened, the stark contrast drawing your attention to it. You noticed Changbin, your ex, who was dancing with Jeongin, Hyunjin and Felix on the dance floor. They were having the time of their lives, finally having some freedom under your label after transferring.
The freedom in question was demonstrated when the first thing Changbin had done was to ask you to be his significant other. You probably shouldnât have agreed but you were young, stupid and in love.
He was handsome and a good rapper but most importantly, he was kind and respectful towards women. He was also funny when he wanted to be, and all in all it had really sealed the deal for you. Only after the rumours and scandals started to threaten both of your careers, had you given in to the pressure and broken up. There were no hard feelings, but residual attraction remained.
You bid goodbye to Chan, who was already engrossed in his own thing again. He followed you back into the warmth of the building, only to settle down in one of the comfortable chairs and busy himself with his own things.
Hesitantly, you made your way towards Changbin. Although it was a company event, it wasnât very uptight and controlled, so there were drinks being served and music being played. It was almost midnight and the mood had clearly shifted towards a more energetic, crazy mood, and Changbin was very much at home.
When he finally saw you, the world fell silent. Your breath hitched in your throat as you waited nervously for his response. Everything else had fallen away, and for a moment it was just the two of you existing in the continuum of time.
âY/n!â He called, hugging you tightly. âItâs so good to see you again.â You greeted each of the members politely, and Hyunjin stared at you, mouth agape.
âAnd here I was thinking the Biny/n crumbs twitter account was the only way I could see the two of you interact again.â You rolled your eyes at Hyunjinâs sassy remark, inwardly comforted by his (however backhanded) welcoming words.
âLetâs get some drinks and talk,â Changbin suggested, and you followed mindlessly as he ordered drinks for both of youâa margarita on the rocks for youâand you sat down, amazed that he still remembered what you liked after all that time.
It was so easy to fall back into step with Changbin, it almost felt like no time had passed at all. He was still the same cheerful, positive person who had so much going on in his life. You, on the other hand, were still the one who lent a listening ear, shaking your head exasperatedly when he told you of the shenanigans he had been up to.
Of course, the two of you drank, and drank, and drank. He told you a funny story, and you drank out of a need for your hands to be occupied. You told him of your troubles, and you drank to drown your negative thoughts, he drank out of solidarity. He told you of the injuries he had sustained, you told him to be more careful. He laughed. âYolo!â Both of you drank.
Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Thatâs what they said, wasnât it? It must have been true because you would not have been able to catch up with Changbin for so long if you had been sober. The conversation would have dwindled when it came to a sensitive topic, and the atmosphere would have grown awkward.
But it was easier when you were drunk. Everything seemed to spill out of you like the liquid courage you were consuming, and no barriers remained to hold anything back. It flowed and it flowed, words that you would never had uttered if you still possessed any form of sobriety.
Changbin must not have noticed, because he did not comment. You were both too flushed and too drunk to form any kind of coherent thought, and the only thing you wanted when the world started spinning was to get away from everything. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and Changbin stumbled after you.
However, he was too drunk to walk straight, and was quickly taken away by Hyunjin with an apologetic smile towards you. You didnât see it, consumed only by the bile in your throat and the swimming of your vision.
You went to the bathroom, only making it as far as the one meant for wheelchair-bound persons when you collapsed over the toilet bowl, unvoluntarily regurgitating your previous meal.
The taste of mushed up food remained in your mouth, the acid burning your throat. You looked at yourself in the mirror and you sighed, rinsing whatever was left out of your mouth and washing your face. You also removed any of the minimal makeup you had applied to make yourself look presentable.
Your eyes looked smaller, and you could now see the imperfections on your face, but at least you were authentic. Right?
You pushed the door open (it had closed by itself) and almost slammed it in Chanâs face.
There he stood, arms hanging awkwardly by his side, watching you with concern. You wobbled, and his arms subconsciously stretched out to catch you. You leaned onto him for support and he tried to help you walk away from the toilet.
âWhere do you want to go?â Chan asked you worriedly. âYou really donât look good, Y/n-ssi. I think you should go home.â
âMm⊠Canât. Need to find⊠Jisung. Heâll know what to do,â was all you managed before you passed out, slumped in Chanâs arms.
Fuck. Chan stared at you, completely flabbergasted. What should he do? He had never had to deal with drunk bosses before. Sure, he had dealt with his fair share of drunk friends, but never someone who was superior to him in rank, much less a stranger whom he had just met a few weeks ago.Â
He decided to bring you back to Jisung, when Minho spotted him.
Minhoâs eyes hardened and his smile disappeared into a thin line when he spotted Chan holding your body, leading you away from the gender-neutral bathroom meant for wheelchair-bound people.
He had been talking to Jisung and catching up with Jeongin and Felix, finally loosening up as the evening progressed, and Chan just happened to be in his line of sight.
And, of course, you. Of course you had ignored what he had told you and gotten drunk and blacked out. Of course you ended up in the arms of a man he didnât know, whom you had been talking to when the night was still young. And best of all, of course you had to be dragged out, unconscious, from a bathroom. Who knew what could have happened to you inside the bathroom?
âJi,â he called once, loud enough for Jisung to hear, before he made his way over to you, all but snatching you from Chanâs arms.
He shifted you in his arms so he could comfortably carry you, bridal style, glaring at Chan. âI donât really know who you are, but if I find out youâve done anything to Y/n, youâre a dead man.â
Jisung rushed over to his side, his smile falling off his face when he saw what was happening. âChan-hyung? Minho-hyung? Anyone would like to fill me in?â
âI saw him with Y/n, dragging their unconscious ass out of a toilet. Who knows what heâs done to them,â Minho replied viciously before Chan had a chance to answer.
âChan-hyung⊠seriously? I thought you and them were just friends,â Jisung said disappointedly. Chan tried to defend himself, but both Minho and Jisung turned their backs on him, Minho pressing his forehead to yours as he carried you out to Jisungâs car.
THE NEXT MORNING, you woke up to natural light streaming in through the windows, and the delicious smell of pancakes wafting in from the kitchen. You hurriedly dressed and got out of the room, spotting Minho and Jisung whispering to each other urgently as they sat at the table, clearly waiting for you to make an appearance.
âMorning.â
âMorning. I tried to tell Minho-hyung you were old enough to deal with a hangover yourself, but he just wouldnât listen.â You looked carefully at Minho: at his disheveled hair, his bloodshot eyes, and the messy creases in his suit from the night before. He looked like he hadnât slept a wink.
As if reading your mind, Jisung explained, âHe sat by your bed all night, afraid you would wake up and have some horror story to tell about last night. He didnât sleep at all.â
Poor Minho. He definitely needed his beauty sleep, but it was alright because he was pretty either way. You checked your phone; luckily Jisung had had the presence of mind to help you charge it and you had received several messages. A couple were from your parents, telling you to sleep well and let them know if anything had happened, and from Seungmin, Hyunjin and Changbin, in that order, asking if you were okay. Seungmin also asked if you were coming for work or calling in sick. The last one was from Chan. He asked if you were okay, if Minho was mad at him, and if you were going to reconsider the deal. Heâd understand if things had changed, he said.
You told him it was still on and Seungmin would deal with the logistics. You replied to everyone, explaining that you were fine and thanking them for their worry. You told Seungmin youâd be late but not to any meetings. Youâd be there in an hour, you said.
You told Jisung that you needed a lift. He told you to take your things and heâd meet you in the car once he took his keys.
Minho watched you blankly, too tired to function. You tilted his chin up to get a good look at him, sighed when you saw the bags under his eyes, pressed a kiss to his forehead and thanked him for bringing you home; for noticing you passed out even when there were so many other people there blocking you from his sight.
He returned your smile tiredly. âIâll always be there for you. We agreed, remember?â
You did.
WORK WAS SO DRAINING, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. You would give anything to leave the room and the discussion, and the meeting being about the most mundane things ever was not helping. Obviously you understood the importance of market share and dealing with your competitors, but you were not in the mood to listen to the boardâs insistence on rebranding or some other form of expanding your target audience.
Was this what corporate life was like? Because you definitely werenât cut out for it. Your eyelids were drooping and you were dangerously close to collapsing on the table if it werenât for the caffeine running through your veins.
Seungmin had greeted you with coffee that morning, âunder Minhoâs ordersâ to make sure you werenât too hungover and also to keep you awake. It helped keep the headache at bay, and you thanked Minho.
He hadnât replied yet, so you assumed that he had finally gone to get his beauty sleep, glad that you hadnât asked him to drive you that morning.
One of the board directors was talking your ear off, and you had almost forgotten about Chan. At least, until he clocked in for work, claiming to have âreached his studioâ. It was accompanied with a goofy selfie of him at St(r)ay Away.
You were confused by how comfortable he seemed to be with texting you and also his excitement to get to know you, which showed through his messages. But it was cute, and you were starting to warm up to him.
Chan was insane. He sent you a picture of the progress he had made and you were glad you could be there to keep him accountable. You ran a company and you couldnât do that for everyone. But then again, you didnât personally recruit everyone, and not everybody helped get you out of a creative slump. So you supposed you could make exceptions when it came to Chan.
He shot you a quick text, saying âgoing home now! you should too đ„±â and the corners of your lips lifted in the smallest of smiles. It was only something small, but the gentle reminder to take a break and not to overwork yourself made your day.
Still grinning like a fool, you dialed Seungminâs desk and told him to go home as well, a skip in your step as you made your way to Minhoâs car. Since the company event, he said he wanted to drop you off at work and pick you up to keep you safe. (How crazy that he cared for you more than Jisung did; Jisung didnât give enough fucks to give you a lift to and from work.) In return, you offered for him to stay at your and Jisungâs place, and he took up residence in the guest room.
He opened the door for you, asking you about your day. You told him of all the boring administrative things, keeping to yourself the texts that Chan had sent you. They were just a one-time thing, you thought to yourself. Sooner or later, the novelty of texting you would be lost, and Chan would not check in with you anymore.
You couldnât be more wrong.
Chan continued to text you about your day every day for the time period leading up to the release date for his album, for which a name was pending. He didnât seem to send you any more songs after that, which you sorely missed.
He probably didnât dare to overstep his boundaries, which you understood. But you didnât want him walking on eggshells every time he interacted with you. So one day, you impulsively told Chan that you could be a beta listener for his songs if he wanted to send them to you. You didnât do that for everyone, because youâd be a very busy person, but Chanâs music style appealed to you. Plus, you were constantly intrigued by what was going on in that head of his.
When Chan sent you four songs that he was planning to put in his album, you were pleasantly shocked by how he seemed to be outdoing himself. Having a purpose and a cohesive theme across several songs allowed him to express himself better, and when giving him feedback, you found that you were genuinely excited for his release.
You checked your email for any updates from his agent or his manager, and entered the release date on your calendar. You wanted to be free on that day so you could congratulate him in person.
You were thinking about this as you exited your car from the passenger side, Minho coming out from the driverâs side. For the month that he had been in town so far, he had consistently driven you to work every single day. You joked that not only was that the longest amount of time heâd ever spent in one place, it was also the commitment that heâd stuck to for the longest time.
Sleepily, you laid your head on Minhoâs shoulder and sighed tiredly. You really wanted to go home. The real reason that you were hanging on through all those boring meetings was that you were looking forward to Chanâs release, and you had to keep the company going for that to happen.
It was funny. Ever since you had visited âSt(r)ay Awayâ, you felt like something was missing. It had been a brief but much-needed reprieve and without that feeling of âwow, this is what music is supposed to sound likeâ, you felt a sense of emptiness.
The sense of emptiness continued throughout the entire day, only intensifying when you were in the presence of Jisungâs âpartnersâ (whom you greatly disagreed with). Their creative vision of the company was going to absolutely destroy all your morals and everything you stood for as a CEO. You wanted to promote small groups, give artists freedom in their music and emphasise on uniqueness, not follow the same concepts that were âtrendingâ.
You didnât care if it wasnât as financially beneficial as the marketing gimmicks the partners had thought up, you wanted to stay true to your family and your own ideas. Besides, in the long run, were they really going to priorities their monetary gains over the mental health and the passion of the artists?
Clearly, they had no qualms about squashing the creative ideas that their artists had. âTheyâre i-doll-s for a reason,â one of them even joked. Jisung looked uncomfortable, but he didnât speak out.
Annoyed with your brother and everyone in the room, you looked down at your watch and found that it was time to go home. Telling Jisung to deal with it but not make any decisions yet, you took your leave.
The door swung open and somebody stumbled back. You quickly stepped out and shut the door, coming face to face with Minho and Chan.
âOh. Hi,â you said, forcing a smile onto your face as you looked at Chan. You hadnât gotten your daily selfie that day, and youâd texted Chan about it, but he hadnât read your text for the whole day.
When you turned to Minho, you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch ever so slightly. His tell. âMinho? Whatâs wrong?â
âNothing,â he said, trying to casually brush it off. But you knew him better than that, and you werenât just going to let it slide. Recalling the way he had been looking at Chan when you first turned to him, you deduced that it must have been related to Chan.
Speaking of which, why was Chan in the building? You and he had already agreed to let him work in his store, why had he specially come down to SFX Labels, and why today of all days?
As if reading your mind, Chan rushed to explain, âFor some reason, my agent disagrees with your idea for me to release a solo album. He wanted me to produce music for I.O.U. because he and the manager are friends. I had to set up a meeting with the managers and producers, which wasnât great. The members were friendly, but the producers were terrible. They couldnât agree on whether they liked the music or not and constantly bickered the whole time I was there. The concept, style, and even the lyrics of their previous songs were completely different from mine, so I really wonder whose idea it was to invite me.â
You shrugged. âStupid people are everywhere. Contrary to popular belief, I canât be responsible for the actions of every individual under the label.â
The muscle in Minhoâs jaw loosened, and he let out a snort. âYouâre pretty stupid sometimes, too.â
âNot as stupid as Jisung, hopefully.â
Minho grinned. âNot as stupid as Jisung.â
CHAN KEPT HIS DISTANCE from you and Minho, close enough to keep you in his sight but far enough not to hear your conversations. Leaning tiredly on a wall, he looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
He hadnât told you, but he thought Jisung had driven you to work in the morning when he spotted you getting out of the car. He was just about to go over and say hi to his favourite Han siblings, but got cold feet when he saw you resting your head on Minhoâs shoulder. He was half thrown off by Minhoâs constant affection towards you, half thrown off by how cold Minho was towards him.
Remembering Minhoâs glare and his hug to you and how upset he had been finding Chan carrying your drunk self away from a public restroom, Chan had hesitated, finally deciding to just go in and not greet the two of you.
When he left the studio that evening, he was both exasperated and frustrated. He had wanted a creative, collaborative experience, not an argument he felt the need to mediate. That was why he preferred to work alone in a (mostly) quiet place and he regretted listening to his agent instead of consulting you.
He had been engrossed in his unhappiness, not watching where he was going. He hadnât texted you that morning because of the Minho incident, and you had asked him about it. Chan had just been about to reply with two selfies (one to make up for it and one for the end of work) when he crashed into Minho. Minho and Chan both immediately apologised, Chan bowing in greeting to his senior, when Minho recognised him.
It was difficult to ignore the daggers Minho was sending his way, especially when Chan got the idea Minho didnât have the best impression of him.
âOh, itâs you.â
âYeah,â Chan grimaced. âItâs me.â Minho didnât look too happy. He would probably have given Chan a piece of his mind. Chan was readying himself for a âstay away from Y/n, you donât deserve herâ kind of spiel when, luckily for Chan, you walked out of the door, almost crashing into him. Again.
He kept quiet while you laughed with Minho, pressing his lips together and trying not to think about how it would feel if you were to have that kind of banter with him. Would he even be able to say something funny like that to you or would he turn into a stammering, blushing mess?
It was hard to tell.
But one thing was for sure. You and Minho had a dynamic that was hard to replicate, and he didnât want to cross any boundaries. Even if they werenât set in stone or clearly spelt out, he didnât want to ruin whatever you had going on with Minho. He decided to remain civil with you, continuing to text you but never making a move.
After all, he didnât stand a chance against Minho.
IT HAD BEEN THREE MONTHS. Three months since Minhoâs arrival in Seoul and he was still there. You couldnât believe it.
Every morning, you awoke from your bed (trying not to wake Jisung up on his side of the room, he had moved in to make space for Minho), and you tiptoed over to Minhoâs room, fully expecting it to be empty.
You would have been less surprised to see an empty, cleaned out room with no evidence that Minho had ever been there, with maybe a short note that said âGoodbye. Donât miss me too muchâ than what was happening.
It was early in the morning and Minho was still fast asleep, but still very much there. Physically present. It was such a shock to you and it was probably the longest time that Minho had ever been in one place, besides when he was too young to travel.
He must have had a sixth sense, because after about a minute or so of you staring at him to confirm that he wasnât going to disappear magically, he sleepily blinked his eyes open and caught sight of you.
âMorning,â he mumbled, the corners of his lips lifting up into a smile.
âGood morning. Do you want me to make ramyeon or are you content with just the bread from yesterday?â
âRamyeon sounds good,â he replied.
As Minho changed his clothes, you headed to the kitchen to make ramyeon. You were still half asleep, barely going through the actions, and when you set the bowl of noodles onto the dining table, you were caught off guard by Minhoâs excited smile.
âWhat is it?â You asked suspiciously. Knowing Minho, he only smiled like that before he was about to play a prank on you, or when he was up to something sneaky.
âI think we should go to an open class,â Minho said, face impassive. He fought to keep his composure as he watched the struggle of emotions flashing across your face.
âWhat, like learn a dance? Together with a bunch of strangers?â
âBasically, yeah. I found this place and Iâve already booked it a while back. Itâs pretty crowded sometimes so I decided to ask you later and just cancel if you didnât want to go. Iâd pay and everything.â
You would probably have said no, but you felt bad after all that Minho had done. Anyway, it wouldnât be a complete disaster, right? You could only make so much of a fool out of yourself. Surely it would be fine.
It was not fine. Minho was not lying when he said that it would be crowded and if the morning hadnât made your day, you would never have gone for another open class in your life.
The two of you had left a note for Jisung, telling him that youâd be gone for the day, and headed to a coffee shop to get a cup of coffee. The weather was lovely, a breeze gusting past as you sat outside the shop, precariously balanced on the metal stools, blowing on your coffee to cool it down. As you sipped your drink gingerly, Minho told you all about his adventures.
He told you about Italy and their delicious pizza, how there everyoneâs mother was a cook and he was always invited for a meal at a different personâs house after each dance session. He had even bought a piece of art from one of the painters there and proudly kept it in one of his luggages to bring on future trips.
He told you about Taiwan and their night markets, how heâd made new friends with the dancers there and gone to get bubble tea and scallion pancakes together. He told you about the competition he won there, even speaking a few words of their language to convince you.
He told you about America and Turkey and Spain, and how every countryâs culture and way of life was different.
He was a time chaser, if you thought about it. He wanted to experience everything that the world could offer him in the shortest time possible. When you were younger, he had come so close to dropping out of school that his parents said they would stop paying for his dance classes and competition fees if he didnât buckle down and study.
You couldnât understand him at the time. Why would anyone want to sacrifice the security of an education paid for by your parents to go jump into the great unknown that was the world?
But now, looking back, you understood why he was that way. Hearing his tales of his travels made you wonder if you were living life as vicariously as you could, or if you were living through the other people you saw.
And if you werenât living, when would you start?
9.54pm
YOU PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN. Minho was spread out on the couch, facing you but not paying attention to you. You looked back down at your screen and the messages Chan had sent you and tapped Minhoâs ankle with your knee.
âYah, Lee Minho.â
âYes, Han Y/n?â
âChan asked me out.â This sentence caught Minhoâs attention and he stiffened, head lifting up to look at you. His brows furrowed slightly and the muscle in his jaw twitched. He set his phone down, looked at you properly and gestured for you to go on.
âDo you want to go?â
âIâm not sure. I mean, he probably likes me, right? So I shouldnât break his heart, right?â
Softer, until you almost didnât catch it, Minho mumbled, âBut the real question is, do you like him back?â
Then it was your turn to knit your eyebrows together in confusion. Did you? You had never been very good with feelings. When you were fifteen, Jisung had a crush on a girl and so did you. Naturally, Jisung acted like himself and you just hyped him up as best as he could to get him to ask her out. When she rejected him, you had been sad for Jisung but also slightly relieved. You had never told Jisung about the incident, because even when you were in your twenties, you couldnât for the life of you think of what to say.
You couldnât identify feelings very well and were too socially anxious to have the guts to confess. Luckily for you, Chan did. The confession had you thinking that you might have something with him. You probably liked him. And at the very least, you would have liked to start something with him.
You told Minho that, but all he had to say was, âHmm.â What was that tone supposed to mean?
âIs there something you need to tell me, Lee Minho?â
Minho was quiet, which was not unusual. He wasnât smiling, which was a bit unusual but not completely weird. His jaw was twitching, which was not unusual but definitely meant that there was something going on.
âI need to tell you something.â
Patiently, you waited in silence as you watched him struggle inwardly with his thoughts. His mouth opened and shut as he fought to find the right words to express himself.
âHan Y/n, I have loved you for all the time I've known you. I really, really like you and that realisation was probably what grounded me and led me to come back to this place I hate. I want to travel the world but only with you by my side and I've been searching for so long and I think I've found what iâm looking for. You.â
You must have been so stupid for not realising because of course you were the reason that Minho had stayed in Korea for so long. You remembered that morning when you had just been thinking of the very same thing. You were such a fool not to have noticed that the common factor in all of Minhoâs happy stories was always you.
Didnât you see the framed picture of you, Jisung and Minho as kids that Minho propped up at his bedside table when he first unpacked?
Didnât you realise that Minho couldnâtâor shouldnâtâbe able to drop you off because he had other commitments, but he did it anyway because his feelings for you ran deeper than just your friendship?
Didnât you see the way his jaw twitched when he saw you speaking to Chan?
There were so many telltale signs but you were blind. He gave you signal after signal after signal but you chose to drown instead, swerving off the bridge into the deeper waters of denial.
âThen whyâd you just sit there and tell me and Jisung to go for our crush when we were fifteen? You never told me you liked me your whole life. I couldnât possibly have known.â
Minho smiled sadly. âI thought you knew when I told you I loved you that I meant it as more than friends. When I said Iâd be there for you, always, I didnât mean it lightly. You just never read into it and I didnât want to ruin our friendship. But I had to get it off my chest before I left you, again. I donât know if Iâll ever come back after this, Y/n.â
You tripped over yourself trying to hug Minho, but when you did, he held you so tightly that you could barely breathe. It felt as if he was trying to make up for lost time, tears streaming down his eyes.
âOh, Minho.â
It was just like the first hug you had given him when he was in Korea again, when you saw him at the company event. His embrace was still just as warm, only that he was shaking, and you didnât think it was from the cold.
You hugged him back just as tightly, squeezing as much comfort into your hug as you could, trying to hold him in your arms like he used to do to you.
âPlease donât leave me,â you whispered hoarsely. âI donât think- I donât think I could live without you.â
Minho only responded by hugging you tighter before he finally let you go, laughing as he wiped the tears from his eyes. âItâs okay. Itâll be okay. For both of us. I hope- I hope you enjoy your date. And Iâll stay a while longer. From there, weâll see where the wind takes me, yeah? And maybe one day, youâll come to visit me instead.â
Although Minho was playing it off and acting all nonchalant about it, you knew Minho liked to bottle up his feelings and never talk about it. In fact, he probably had a ton of bottled-up trauma he needed to talk about at some point in time.
However, for that moment, you were content not to speak about it. You would simply keep an eye out for your best friend, whom you still loved regardless.
The tension swells up
Are you listening?
Paddling and clambering onto your surfboards
In anticipation of a wave
Youâre ready to ride
And all of a sudden there is quiet
The peace before a storm
The raging sound of the winds
And the moving ocean are lost
Has no one told you to never try to tame the seas?
You must not have been a very good listener
The rules try to cage a roaring beast
The restrictions, limitations are pressing in.
The darkness is imminent
All that is on the surface
Is inconsequential
The water hugs me tightly
It drags me down
The silence in my ears is deafening
My lungs scream for oxygen
And everything goes dark
Has no one told you to never try to tame the seas?
You must not have been a very good listener
I wonât be tamed
Wonât be broken
Wonât fall to your stupidity
Try to cage me, hold me back
You donât know what Iâm capable of
(Grr wolfgang)
Dark blue overshadows,
You think you can stop me?
You might be the king of the jungle
But here, I am the leader of the pack
(SCREECH-)
YOU COULDNâT TELL IF the last screech was from the song or from the abrupt stop that Jisung had come to. Next time, you werenât going to let him drive. You didnât want to lose your life going on a date.
Chanâs album had just been released and though it was unconventional to release it early on in the morning, you had requested that it be so. You wanted to listen to it on the way to the pottery-making class that Chan had booked, but you also knew that it would attract more people to listen to it if they were actually awake when it was released.
The mall wasnât far from your apartment, but Minho and Jisung had insisted on coming with you, obviously. They just couldnât leave you alone. Minho had been hyping you up the entire ride over, telling you not to be anxious and that he and Jisung had your back if you decided to bail at any one point in time. Jisung was just there to chaperone, or so he claimed. You personally thought that he just wanted to poke his nose in your business because he didnât have a love life of his own.
They flanked you like bodyguards, and Minho was dressed in black from head to toe, which really sealed the deal. Jisung pulled Minho away to the other side of the pottery studio, both of them sneaking glances at you every once in a while in between making fun of each otherâs creations.
You, on the other hand, were feeling rather jittery. You rushed to congratulate Chanâs release and compliment him on his work. âIt was stunning,â you told him. âIâm always impressed by your arrangements of beats.â
He smiled back shyly at you, blushing furiously. He had to look away for a second to compose himself before thanking you for the compliment.
With all the nerves and anxious energy in the air, it took a while for both of you to calm down. Then, you could finally start enjoying each otherâs company without being overly conscious of your own breathing and your hair and everything else.
Chan turned out to have a natural affinity for pottery. Even the lady teaching the class asked if he had made anything out of clay before, because he seemed so experienced and talented at it.
You, however, couldnât say the same. Your cup was looking a little wonky halfway through the process of making it and it was precariously lopsided. Chan reached out to help you straighten it, but not before snapping a photo of your stunned face with the mug.
âHey!â
âIâm making that my contact picture for you,â he grinned mischievously. Oh, right. He was referring to that one time that you told him to use one of the corporate pictures on the internet for your contact picture. Youâd almost forgotten it until he brought it up.
You could hardly believe how long it had been since that day. Your and Chanâs relationship had grown so much since then and youâd grown less uptight and stiff around him, additionally his sense of humour had started to show more.
You were so happy to have Chan in your life.
Especially when he handed you a mini flower bouquet after you had cleaned up and sent your pottery creations off for baking and glazing. You took it, slightly confused, until Chan excitedly asked you to untie the ribbon. The bouquet unfolded into a little coaster and it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen.Â
Chan even brought you window shopping at the IKEA opposite the mall, nodding with you as you criticised the room decor and agreed when you liked the aesthetic. If you didnât know any better, it might have felt like shopping for an apartment.
Afterwards you went to get ice cream together, passing by a couple of plushies hanging on a rack. Unable to resist, you grabbed the wolf plushie keychain and waved it at Chan. âGrr, wolfgang.â
You couldnât help yourself, collapsing into a heap of giggles.Â
Chan sighed like an old man, looking between the keychain in your hands and your face. The glee on your face must have been enough to convince him, because he took it into his hand, and reaching out with his free hand, he took a quokka off.
âThatâs you,â he grinned.
You cocked your head. âReally?â Youâd always told Jisung he looked like a quokka, and obviously the two of you looked alike since you were siblings, but you had never had anyone attribute your looks to that of a quokkaâs before.
But Chan was looking at you so tenderly and you didnât want to ruin the moment, so you took it from your hands and smiled at him.
âLetâs go get these, then.â
YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN dreams never lasted before you woke up in cold sweat, clammy palms gripping your blanket. You had had an awful nightmare about Minho leaving, a manifestation of your fears since he had arrived. It wasnât a recurring nightmare but it still hit you hard.
Still in shock, you got up to go to the bathroom to splash your face and calm yourself down. It was dark outside, but the room that Minho had been sleeping in seemed eerily empty to you.
When you walked past it again, you did a double take. Minho had been packing his bags for a while and you had been anticipating his departure during that time. However, he had never actually told you when he was leaving Korea, and if he really meant it when he said he might never come back.
Full of questions, you went over to Jisungâs bed to wake him up. You were concerned but mostly confused, and you wanted assurance that Minho was safe.
Little did you expect that Minho had already informed Jisung in advance that he was leaving. The two had even booked Minhoâs tickets together, strategically arranging it at night so that you wouldnât have time to cry and make a big fuss of it all.
âThe real reason he had to wake up in the middle of the night to get to the airport for a flight at the most inconvenient hours of the day is so that you wouldnât make a big fuss out of it,â Jisung hissed. âYet, even after all that planning, it still seems to backfire. All because youâre so fucking emotionally attached to Minho-hyung.â
You sucked in your breath sharply, but Jisung was relentless. âHave you ever considered my feelings? In our little trio, itâs always felt like Miny/n and Jisung who third-wheeled everywhere you two went. Youâre always so caring towards Minho-hyung but never to me. You prioritise him at every stage of life. You idolise him. Maybe youâve never stopped to think that he doesnât want you next to him all the fucking time and thatâs why he left.â
âI donât prioritise Minho over you, Ji. I pay so much attention to him whenever heâs here because I never know when he might up and leave. I donât know when Iâll see him again. And maybe you know, so youâre not worried, but sometimes he ghosts me for days on end and I donât know whether to be anxious or to attribute it to his busy schedule. You donât know what thatâs like, do you?â You scoffed bitterly, biting your lip to hold back your tears.
âNo,â he sneered. âYouâre right, I donât. Because I donât stick to him like glue and heâs okay with telling me things he knows you canât handle. Youâre acting so damn immature right now and thatâs probably why he never talks to you about important things.â
You couldnât help yourself. The tears rolled silently down your cheeks at Jisungâs words. You knew that he was just cranky and upset, and that he said these types of things completely unprovoked when he was tired or mad, but you still hadnât expected him to say something like that.
It was true, although you were older than Jisung, Minho always treated Jisung like the older one. He was more protective of you, and always delegated work and details to Jisung when you were planning anything together. When you were still in highschool, you remembered Minho had had a project he desperately needed to finish. You had leaped at the opportunity to be useful to him, but heâd rejected you and gone straight to Jisung instead.
Thoughts were spinning in your head as you remembered all the conversations where Minho had dismissed your thoughts because you were not âready to talk about those sorts of thingsâ or so he claimed.
Even now, when you were already an adult, Minho and Jisung still treated you like a child.
Frustrated, you changed out of your clothes and grabbed a coat to keep you warm as you left the house. Sitting at the doorstep of your apartment, you gave Chan a call, fully aware that Jisung was extremely close to kicking you out of the house if you didnât leave him alone.
To your surprise, Chan picked up on the second ring. âHello?â
âHey. Can I, um, crash at your place? I kind of got into an argument with my brother.â
There was the slightest of pauses. âSure. Send me your address, Iâll come pick you up. I donât want you to catch a cold trying to get to my place.â
You rattled off the address, and you could almost feel Chanâs nod over the phone. âIâll be there in fifteen.â
Chan held true to his word, reaching your apartment in exactly fifteen minutes, even coming up to your apartment door and gazing down at you as you sulked at the door, lips pouted and eyebrows scrunched together.
âChan,â was all you managed out before he was hugging you, and you felt like melting right there and dissolving into a puddle of tears. âJisung would have kicked me out if I didnât shut up but I really needed someone to talk to becauseâhicâI miss him already,â you hiccuped, tears interspersing your words.
âItâs okay,â Chan whispered, stroking your back comfortingly. âItâs okay to let it out.â
You nodded and wiped your tears, hiccuping and leaning on Chan as he led you down to his car, driving you back to his house.
His house wasnât much but when he brought you up to his roof, you were amazed by the view. You could almost ignore the city lights from up there, the only thing separating you from the stars being the vast expanse of the night sky between you and the constellations.
Chan brought out two bottles of champagne and glasses, while you snuggled under the blankets he had prepared. For a dirty rooftop in the middle of the city, it certainly was awfully comfortable.
It was also terribly romantic.
Chan wasnât even settled in by the time you burst into tears, outright sobbing as you told him about how much you missed Minho. The softness of the air mattress under you didnât make your heart ache any less, and the tears flowed from an endless reservoir, never seeming to run dry.
Chan wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, giving you just enough space to feel sad but not lonely.
He listened to you while you told him of Minhoâs tendencies to up and leave, your struggles with your friendship and how vulnerability looked different on Minho with you and Jisung and you didnât understand why humans were so complicated.
He listened as you told him Minhoâs life story and your history with him, why you would miss him so much and how much of your heart he happily occupied, wrenching it away from you each time he left. As your heart slowly grew smaller and scarred, you were sure it was becoming more closed off to others.
You? Emotional? Of course not.
But even your impressive gaslighting skills couldnât convince you that you werenât emotional, especially after all you had told Chan.
âY/n?â was the first thing out of Chanâs mouth after a good minute of silence on your part. The void of noise was punctuated only by your hiccups every once in a while as you fought back a fresh wave of tears.
âI think you need to let some of him go,â he said hesitantly. âItâs okay for him to live his life, and you yours. Itâs okay that youâre set on two different paths that only cross once in a blue moon. I promise you, you wonât drift apart just because he likes to wander. You will still be okay and whole without one person and you can still be really good friends.â
Smiling, he pointed to the sky. âDo you see Orionâs belt? Similar to you mourning Minhoâs departure, itâs a huge waist of time.â
You laughed involuntarily, eyes shimmering but no longer crying. âThanks. I think⊠I needed that.â You gazed at the stars, in awe of their beauty and how vast the universe was. So many things were there for you to be grateful for, you couldnât afford to squander the gift of time longing for the past. After all, you had the present to be grateful for.
Sensing that you didnât want to talk anymore, Chan guided your hand out from under the blanket and pointed your finger at the stars. âDo you see that constellation right there? Itâs one of my favourites. Sirius.â
âThree guesses why,â you said sarcastically.
âOkay, maybe Iâm a little clichĂ© and like the dog constellation because itâs the closest to a wolf. Whatâre you going to do about it, huh?â
You only responded by pressing a kiss to Chanâs cheek.
âWhile youâre in a good mood⊠I also wanted to tell you that itâs okay to be emotionally attached to people and need a while to get over things.â
âAnd to get into fights with our loved ones?â
âThat. Human relations are complicated. You should know that, you people-watcher. I see how your eyes dart in public from one couple to another, scouring the world for any form of humanity to include in your music.â
You felt called out but Chan had a point. âYou do it too. Is it my fault that living vicariously through others hurts less than doing it ourselves?â
Chan smiles fondly. âYou know everything will work out, right? Hurting out of love is better than not feeling love at all.â
âDoesnât feel like it,â you reply, tears blurring your vision. Your hand in Chanâs tightened its grip on him, your rib cage aching as if your heart was really and truly broken.
Chan tilted your chin so you were looking at him, eyes meeting yours as you nodded, just the slightest of motions before his lips were on yours, kissing the pain and the tears away, brushing his thumb over your cheeks to wipe away the traces of your hurt.
âHey, Y/n. Itâs really going to work itself out.â
âAnd if it doesnât?â
âThen crying is alright. Itâs not a sign of weakness and youâll let it all out. And from there, Iâll hold you through it all while you mend your broken heart.â
âPromise?â
âPromise.â
FIN.
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