Work Text:
"Alright, I'll come clean," Hyunjin sighs, plopping down on the couch next to Seungmin.
The younger boy furrows his eyebrows, looking up from his phone distractedly. "Huh?"
Hyunjin raises his eyebrows pointedly. "You know. What we were talking about the other day."
That was an altogether terrible hint, given that this entire conversation is so random, just like every other conversation they have. And they talk a lot.
"I'm gonna need you to zoom in for me a little," Seungmin says, putting his thumb and index finger together and pulling them apart to demonstrate.
Hyunjin shrugs, his lips quirking up at the corners in the slightest hint of a smile, shoulders sagging. "Well, since you don't remember anyway, I'll assume it's not that important to you." He grabs the bag of cookies from the coffee table. "It'll save both of us the awkwardness."
If there's something Seungmin can't do, it's being comfortable while in the dark. He can't stand it when someone starts a conversation and doesn't end it. And Hyunjin knows that very well.
He snatches the bag from Hyunjin's hands. "No, tell me." Hyunjin whines, reaching for the bag. "You were thinking of quitting your job at Starbucks. So you did it?"
"No," Hyunjin snorts. "Dumbass."
"Tell me, then," Seungmin pushes. "It probably is important to me."
"It probably is," Hyunjin mumbles. "Fine. I was gonna tell you anyway." He pops the last bit of the chocolate chip cookie in his mouth, grabbing a pillow and setting it on his lap. "You wanted to know the one person I love? I'll tell you."
Seungmin's heart stutters.
"Oh."
Hyunjin brings it up all of a sudden, sort of like how most of their conversations start. Seungmin's jabbing the vending machine in slight frustration when Hyunjin asks, "Have you ever been in love?", leaning against said vending machine, arms folded, in the middle of an empty hallway.
All things considered, odd place, odd time, odd circumstance for this topic to be brought up.
"Have I ever been in love?"
"Yeah."
Seungmin looks up at him properly. They make eye contact, Hyunjin staring earnestly, eyebrows half concealed by his long curtain bangs, blonde and soft at the edges, like the creases at the corners of Hyunjin's eyes when he smiles. Hyunjin subtly takes his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes glowing. Seungmin's heart aches.
He turns his attention back to the uncooperative vending machine. "What about your dozen crushes throughout the years?" He jokes. “You’ve loved plenty.”
Hyunjin hesitates. “Love is a strong word.”
“I figured.” Liking someone was fickle, somewhat. Love was… well… Seungmin thinks if he truly loved someone, he wouldn’t ever stop.
"I didn't love them."
Seungmin raises an eyebrow dubiously. "No way?"
"I didn't. They were short term crushes.”
"Huh."
They descend into silence, Seungmin chewing on the inside of his cheek as he inserts the coins and jabs the number 15 again. Hyunjin watches in mild curiosity. Finally, finally, the drink drops from the fourth shelf, a metallic clang sounding at the bottom of the machine. Seungmin retrieves it, cracking the soda open and taking a sip before handing it to Hyunjin. The latter takes a long gulp.
"Have you ever been in love, then?"
Hyunjin gazes at Seungmin, tugging the strap of his canvas bag, taking another swig of the soda and passing it back before answering.
"Once."
Since then, Seungmin hasn't pushed for an explanation. Now, with Hyunjin staring at him with those same earnest eyes, he wants to know.
"Okay." He grabs another pillow, fully facing Hyunjin. "Who is it, then?"
Hyunjin cocks his head. "Be patient," he deadpans. "Let me start from the beginning."
⏪
i. Han Jisung, of childhood innocence.
Hyunjin had known he'd liked boys since, well, very early on.
Not that he thought there was anything out of the ordinary or even anything to talk about. He just knew it, he supposes. And it felt pretty normal. No one talked about boys liking girls, no one talked about boys liking boys. So Hyunjin didn't feel like he was different from his classmates. The sky is blue. The grass outside is green. Fishes live in the sea. Hyunjin wants to hold Han Jisung's hand.
Han Jisung. He is from Hyunjin's class. Round face, round eyes, pretty black hair. Out of all the food their small kindergarten served, Jisung liked the kimbap best. It was for this reason that Hyunjin often liked to sneak a kimbap or two on the boy's plate when he wasn't looking.
He likes to see Jisung's eyes light up.
Hyunjin doesn't have any other friends, and neither does Jisung. Maybe that's how they silently agreed to become each other's company.
On the first day of kindergarten, all Hyunjin's classmates were so loud, so happy, so excited. Hyunjin was scared. He watched everyone running around the classroom, and he wondered why he had to go to kindergarten.
A boy ran towards him, stopping, and Hyunjin lifted his head hopefully.
"I need to get something," the boy said, gesturing behind Hyunjin at the colour pencils and array of bright notebooks.
"Oh. Okay." Hyunjin moved, and the boy grabbed the pencils, running back to his friends.
Only then, from his small corner of the classroom, Hyunjin caught sight of another boy, clutching onto his mom's leg. He raised his head curiously, trying to see the boy's face. The boy had nice black hair and chubby cheeks. His eyes were scrunched up, like he was trying not to cry. No one had noticed the kid, except for their ssaem, who was squatting next to him, speaking softly.
Hyunjin continued watching as their ssaem stood, looking around and catching sight of Hyunjin. "Hyunjin-ah!" she called, waving her hand. "Come."
Hyunjin got up, walking toward the small crowd. His ssaem pulled his hand lightly and brought him toward the boy.
"Hyunjin, this is Han Jisung. Jisung, this is Hwang Hyunjin." She patted Jisung's head lightly. "You two would be good friends, I think."
So, on that first day, Hyunjin made his first sort-of friend.
His first friend.
Jisung is often quiet. He's so quiet, sometimes Hyunjin worries that he forgets how to talk. But when Jisung talks, he is loud. Hyunjin loves it when Jisung talks, because Jisung talks so much and about so many different things. He learns that Jisung has an older brother that he loves very much, he learns that Jisung likes rice, and he learns (to his horror) that Jisung's hobby is 'worm-hunting', as the boy very excitedly tells him.
"There's a park near my house!" Jisung says one day while they're sitting on top of the play structure. "Hyung always goes there to play football with his friends, so when eomma tells me to go with him, I don't have anything to do there. But there are so many worms! Don't look at me like that," he laughs as Hyunjin scrunches up his face.
"Ew! Why would you touch those?" Hyunjin asks, scooting away from Jisung.
"Because it's fun," Jisung says. He shrugs. "Do you want to try?" He says, looking hopefully at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin doesn't know why he says yes.
So, they go down the slide, searching around the grassy ground. It had just rained, so it's also wet and a little muddy. Hyunjin worries about his shorts, stepping carefully.
"The worms come out more after it rains," Jisung says wisely. "It's because they like the rain."
Hyunjin thinks Jisung is so smart.
He searches, and he starts to get pretty interested as he grabs small fistfuls of grass, pulling them away to see if any worms are hiding underneath. He doesn't get much luck, until suddenly, he sees something small, wiggling in the mud.
"Jisung! Jisungie!! I found one!" He says excitedly. "Come here!"
Jisung runs toward him, squatting down, his eyes lighting up. Reflect. Hyunjin learnt that word from his mom last week. She told him, it means when the light is thrown back by a surface. Jisung's eyes reflect the light. Hyunjin likes that.
He watches as Jisung reaches out, gently picking up the worm and placing it on his cupped palm. "Woah," Hyunjin mumbles.
"Pretty, right?" Jisung says, grinning up at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin thinks Jisung is so pretty.
They are playing hide-and-seek with the class. Chanhee had been picked to be the seeker, and the rest of them hold back giggles as he turns around to count. "Thirty, twenty-nine…"
Jisung grabs Hyunjin's hand.
Hyunjin loves when Jisung holds his hand. He does it sometimes, when they're skipping home from a good day at school, and he does it when he's sad too. When he's crying, Hyunjin holds his hand. When they're celebrating because they got a good score on a worksheet, Hyunjin holds his hand.
They run, Hyunjin pursing his lips to keep from laughing. Jisung drags them both under the slide, sitting cross-legged as he brings his finger to his lips.
In the distance, Hyunjin hears, "twenty-three, twenty-two…"
Jisung smiles at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin smiles back.
"Eighteen, seventeen…"
Suddenly, Jisung leans closer to Hyunjin. "Shh."
"I'm quiet!" Hyunjin whispers.
Jisung giggles. Hyunjin quiets down.
"Hyunjinnie, I like you a lot."
Hyunjin sees his parents kiss sometimes. They look so happy when they're around each other, always smiling. They never argue, and sometimes his mom laughs at something his dad says. Sometimes it's the other way. On some days, his mom prepares breakfast, sending his dad off with coffee. On other days, his dad wakes up extra early just to surprise his mom.
When Hyunjin asked them about it, his mom ruffled his hair, laughing. "Because we love each other."
Love.
"Seven, six…"
Jisung stares at Hyunjin, grinning.
"I like you a lot too, Jisungie."
"Five, four…"
And Jisung lights up.
"Three, two…"
Hyunjin has an idea, all of a sudden, Without thinking, he leans forward, pecking Jisung's cheek quickly.
"One!"
Oh, how Jisung's eyes shine.
⏩
"So… you had your first crush… at five years old?" Seungmin purses his lips, concealing his laughter.
Hyunjin glares, throwing his pillow at Seungmin. "Stop laughing!"
"I wasn't!"
Hyunjin kicks Seungmin in the shin lightly, eyes softening. "Well, yeah. In kindergarten. My first non-familial kiss too. On the cheek, sure, but nonetheless. A kiss."
It's the first time Seungmin’s heard this story from Hyunjin. Having only met at the age of 21, he knows there's so much of Hyunjin's life he actually wasn't there to experience. Never mind that he's Hyunjin's best friend, he forgets that there were others before him.
“You talked about his eyes a lot.”
“He had nice eyes,” Hyunjin says seriously.
“And what happened after that? The kiss?”
Hyunjin snorts. “Absolutely nothing. We continued being friends, it was normal, nothing changed.”
Seungmin stares incredulously. "Then what was all that about?!"
Hyunjin kicks him again. "In my defence, I really did like him." He stares wistfully. "Han Jisung, my first crush."
Seungmin stares. This is a version of Hyunjin he'd like to see more often.
"But you didn't… love him?"
"No." Hyunjin thinks. "I'm pretty sure I was just really infatuated by him. And for good reason! He was really cute. Five year old me really liked him. But no. I didn't love him."
Seungmin nods. "Okay… then who came after?"
⏪
ii. Seo Changbin, on infatuated admiration.
Hyunjin likes being in grade 5, because he’s one of the oldest in the school, but there are still people older than him.
He didn’t like being in grade 1 or even grade 4, because he didn’t like that there was a high chance of someone he saw in the hallways being older than him. He’s not used to it (not that he’s used to people being younger than him, either.) Being an only child isn’t very fun.
But he wouldn’t want to be the oldest in the school either, because at this level, there are still people above him that he can look up to. If he needs help, or inspiration, they’re there. He thinks the 6th graders are so cool.
Like Seo Changbin.
He’s from 6-4, so Hyunjin knows he’s smart. Well, he also knows that because he likes to check the 6th graders’ rank list whenever it’s pinned on the bulletin board in the hallways, and Changbin sunbae always makes it in the top 10.
You could say Hyunjin was maybe, slightly, insignificantly, just a little, tiny bit, infatuated with Seo Changbin. He just really admires the senior.
It started around the beginning of grade 5, in March or April. The first time Hyunjin saw Changbin, he’d been—
— starstruck. Yes, that was probably the word.
He’d been leaving school when he just so happened to walk past the music room. Rarely had he ever seen the lights on in the room, so he stopped, looking through the glass pane on the door.
He saw a boy, one hand holding a script, one hand over a mic. He’d been singing, Hyunjin assumes. Hyunjin knew immediately that he was a 6th grader— because he knew all the 5th graders, and he’d never seen this boy before. Plus, he looked too mature to be a 4th grader.
Hyunjin probably stood there for a few minutes just watching him sing. When he sang, Hyunjin could just tell that his voice came out strong.
In music class, he was taught to sing with his stomach. Ms Kim told them that when they did that, their voices would come out louder and more powerfully. Hyunjin’s never quite reached that level, so he never really understood what Ms Kim meant.
That boy in the music room sang with his stomach. Like he pulled the air in, storing it all in his body before letting it out.
It was then when he turned around, his eyes making contact with Hyunjin’s. Hyunjin only caught a glimpse of his face, the confused creases between his eyebrows, before he nearly threw himself to the ground trying to run away.
Hyunjin told Jaemin all about the boy the next day.
“He sings. I think he’s part of the choir. And Jaemin, he’s so handsome!”
Jaemin rolls his eyes. “You fall in love with every boy you meet!”
“No, no,” Hyunjin shakes his head. “Really! He has black hair and sharp eyes, and he sang, well, he sang so… he looked like a real singer!”
“Did you see his name?” Jaemin asks, acting disinterested even though Hyunjin knows he loves gossip.
“No,” Hyunjin sighs.
“Then how are you going to find him again?!” Jaemin says indignantly.
“I’m sure I’ll see him again!” Hyunjin says determinedly. “And if I don’t, I’ll just stop by the music room every Tuesday afternoon.”
As luck would have it, Hyunjin finds he doesn’t have to do that.
He sees the boy again in the hallways the next day.
As cliché as it was, it felt like that scene in Yeji’s favourite show when the male lead walked into the room and the lights and music appeared. His cousin always loved to watch those kinds of shows, and even though she was eleven just like him, she’d still squeal happily. Hyunjin didn’t really like those shows because they weren’t realistic.
But then, here he was.
His eyes zoom in onto the name tag. 서창빈. Seo Changbin.
Then he looks up, and Changbin’s eyes meet his again. His heart seems to quicken in his chest as Changbin raises one eyebrow, his lips curving in a smile.
“You…”
Every signal in Hyunjin’s brain flashes red, the sirens loud and blaring. Abort, abort, abort!!! He bows at the waist quickly, without thinking, and runs.
That was singlehandedly the most embarrassing experience of his life.
“At least I got a name,” he tells Jaemin later. “Seo Changbin.”
Jaemin’s eyebrows shoot up comically. “Seo Changbin?! You aim high, Hwang Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin learns a lot more about Changbin from Jaemin that day. And he can’t believe he’d never heard of the boy before.
Seo Changbin is the choir’s “ace”, he’d sung several solos for them, and one of the solos had made their school champions at the annual performing arts festival. He’s also part of the writing club and writes several articles for their school newsletter. Once, he’d submitted a poem for a poetry anthology as per his teacher’s suggestion, and it got published. He has a knack for the mic and the pen.
“I think I’m in love,” Hyunjin says wistfully, falling onto Jaemin with a hand over his forehead.
He gets a smack over the head. “You’ve never even talked to him,” his friend scolds.
“It doesn’t matter! I feel like I know him!” Hyunjin exclaims.
So for the next few months, Jaemin is subjected to a lot of torture from Hyunjin.
He brings a banner to their school’s talent show in May. It reads “Seo Changbin fighting!!!!” and is decorated with many pink hearts. Jaemin, against his will, helps to make it.
“It’s a talent show, not a concert.”
“He’s still my idol,” Hyunjin says dreamily. “I hope he sees it.”
On the day of the talent show, Hyunjin waits impatiently for Changbin to appear. When the senior does, he’s sure he’s the loudest in the room.
The auditorium explodes in cheers, and Hyunjin honestly can’t believe how popular Changbin was and how he’d never heard of him before.
Changbin performs a rap, his flow knocking Hyunjin off his feet— not literally, but he did almost fall off his chair when Changbin casts a glance at him.
“He totally looked at me!!!” Hyunjin squeals, hanging off Jaemin’s arm. “We’re gonna get married!!”
When Changbin finishes, Hyunjin swears to god he looks at him again, making eye contact for a straight four seconds (Hyunjin counts.)
He nearly passes out. Swooning and dizzy, the long-suffering Jaemin has to drag him back to class.
A few months (and a lot of fanboying) later, Hyunjin makes his first move.
November 11th is Pepero Day. Which means that it’s a perfect day to tell Seo Changbin just how much Hyunjin likes him, and since they were in elementary school, no one would think twice about it. Everyone would think it was just an exchange between friends and no one would suspect that Hyunjin had a crush on the school prince.
So he shops for the snack, and he chances upon a white chocolate one with bright red hearts on the packaging. It’s perfect, even more perfect when he tapes a little note onto it, written on his special post-it paper with hearts on it as well.
He puts it in Changbin’s locker. Everyone’s visiting classes to exchange pepero and the classes and hallways are crowded, so no one notices Hyunjin slipping into a 6th grade classroom and placing a box of the chocolate snack into the locker labelled “Seo Changbin”.
That is, he thought no one noticed him.
He’s washing his hands in the bathroom when the door swings open. Hyunjin looks up, mentally short-circuiting when he sees Changbin standing there.
The older boy blinks in surprise, before grinning. He walks over to Hyunjin, switching on the tap of the sink next to him.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
“I- I- huh?” Hyunjin stutters.
Changbin smiles, making eye contact with Hyunjin in the mirror. “You gave me that white chocolate pepero.”
At that moment, Hyunjin wants nothing more than to run away and never appear at the school again. “I—”
Changbin holds up a hand. “I saw you outside the music room that day. You could come and watch me rehearse one day, if you’d like.”
“Oh, I, um.” Hyunjin flushes. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Happy Pepero Day to you,” Changbin says. He grins again, leaving the bathroom.
That was the first time Hyunjin interacted with him properly. And well, he was right. Seo Changbin was cool.
⏩
“So what happened after?” Seungmin asks, genuinely curious.
“Nothing. I never talked to him again.” Hyunjin groans, stuffing his face in the pillow. Resurfacing, he adds, “that was honestly so embarrassing. I made sure never to go near him ever again. Plus, he graduated a few months later.”
Seungmin laughs loudly. “I can’t believe you did all that at eleven!”
Hyunjin glowers. “I can’t believe I did that either. Eleven year old me was thriving in a way twenty-six year old me could never.”
“I feel bad for you,” Seungmin says in faux sympathy.
“I feel bad for myself,” Hyunjin affirms.
“I can’t believe you confessed on Pepero Day, though. And to your senior.” Seungmin snickers. “I would pay to see that happen in real time.”
“And I would pay to undo that point in my life. He’s not even the only senior I liked.”
“Damn.”
Seungmin can't even remember having that many crushes. Maybe one or two tiny infatuations, and well, his current one, but other than that, Hyunjin's… eventful love life has so far proven to be a complete shock to him.
"Yeah, that was Seo Changbin, grade 6," Hyunjin says. He gets this look on his face. Like he was captivated. "And then there was…"
⏪
iii. Lee Minho, of adrenaline and flashing lights.
Hyunjin can't exactly pinpoint the exact moment he starts looking forward to seeing the dance senior walk into the room. It was a slow yet fast development, gradual such that he never noticed it happening until half a year after joining the dance club.
Minho-hyung was his mentor when he first joined. He, like the other 14 new 7th grade dancers, was assigned one 9th grader mentor based on an aptitude test they'd been made to take upon passing auditions. The instructors preferred to keep these things quiet, but the students didn't. Or rather, couldn't.
"I realise why you ranked first on ssaem's list of 7th graders now," Jimin tells him as they're warming up.
Yoo Jimin, a fellow 7th grader, was one of Hyunjin's first friends in dance club and middle school in general. She was very pretty and very talented, and Hyunjin liked her very much. Not in any way other than platonic, but nonetheless. She was a good friend, too. Her mentor, Seo Soojin, was a very good dancer, so it could only mean that Jimin was highly regarded by their instructors as well.
Hyunjin cocks his head mid-stretch. "What?"
"You topped ssaem's list. That's why you got Minho-hyung as a mentor. He's our ace," Jimin says, winking at the word 'ace'.
As it seems, Hyunjin would come to realise that he had a type.
Minho is strict, but gentle in the way he instructs Hyunjin during one-to-one sessions. On the one hand, he'd get Hyunjin to repeat one move about sixty-four times, but on the other hand, he's not some teacher from the 80s who'd rap Hyunjin over the knuckles for getting it wrong. Not once had he lost his patience.
Once, Hyunjin just couldn't get this one move right. It was to the point he would nearly cry of frustration because he was trying, so hard, but yet it was never really completely there.
And Minho-hyung never once lost his cool. He got behind Hyunjin, holding his wrists gently and directing them to their positions, doing it repeatedly until the memory of the pressure of Minho's fingers pressing lightly into the underside of his wrist imprinted itself in his brain.
Their school had very strict rules that every 7th grader could only be paired with a 9th grader of the same sex, out of fear that they'd form more than platonic relationships. Clearly, not very well thought through, given that the moment Minho's hands landed on Hyunjin's own, he got that shiver down his spine, the one he knew pretty well.
Maybe that was one incident that further advanced the development, but there wasn't a fixed catalyst. No matter how hard Hyunjin thought, he couldn't think of a fixed moment.
Only that soon came a time when Hyunjin would crane his neck from his corner of the practice room to monitor the 9th graders slowly streaming through the doors once the bell rang to signal the end of their classes. He watched eagerly as his seniors walked in, each dumping their bag on the floor and proceeding to warm up. Often, Lee Minho was one of the last to walk in.
Minho would enter the practice room together with Juyeon, his bag slung over one shoulder (which made Hyunjin swoon.) He'd scan the room to find Hyunjin, and Hyunjin would have to try and contain his excitement (i.e, he'd tone down the energy in his greeting.) Not a "hi Minho-hyung, nice to see you!!!" accentuated with multiple exclamation marks, but more of a shy smile and wave.
He loved seeing Minho walk in, because that meant three consecutive hours of spending time with his hyung.
Most 9th graders didn't like hanging out with anyone younger than them, and it showed. Many of Hyunjin's batchmates got stuck with seniors who clearly wouldn't like to spend more time than necessary with their mentees. If Minho felt that same way, he certainly didn't show it.
No, sessions with Minho-hyung were stress-relievers. And pretty educational– he was an excellent dancer. Their club had three units of dance– contemporary, hiphop, and jazz. Lee Minho was part of the contemporary unit.
When it comes the time for the 7th graders to be streamed into units, Hyunjin chooses contemporary.
(Definitely not because of Minho-hyung. It's because contemporary just interests him more than jazz and hiphop!!! Plus, he's very well-versed in contemporary, seeing as his mentor was in contemporary. If he's been taught contemporary for half a year, making a switch would simply be way too troublesome. Many mentees followed in the footsteps of their mentors anyway. No, it's not because the different units practise on different days during performance periods, it's not because he's afraid that he would never get to see Minho again if he was in a different unit, what the hell. It's not because he wants to spend more time with his senior, and it's one hundred percent not because he wants to continue being guided by Lee Minho. There is absolutely no ulterior motive here.)
Anyway, he gets in.
Minho is so happy for him.
"I always knew you could do it," Minho says when the listings are up on the bulletin board. He drapes his arm around Hyunjin's shoulder, pulling him into a side-hug. "Ah, my dongsaeng. You've come so far." He puts one hand over his heart, sighing dramatically.
Hyunjin giggles. "Only because you're here to help me, hyung. I wouldn't have done it without you."
"You would have done it regardless," Minho says. "You're very talented," he adds, prodding Hyunjin in his chest.
As if a button had been pressed, the heart contained inside said chest started pounding just a little bit faster.
(“On stage, no matter what goes on outside of your performance, you shouldn’t get distracted.” It’s what Minho-hyung tells him all the time. As it appears, that little piece of advice is useful to him in more ways than one.)
They start rehearsing for the end-of-year graduation showcase. Hyunjin, (by a complete coincidence), manages to clinch a position next to Minho in the choreography. It's a good thing, because if he were to forget a move, he'd just have to look to his left to see his hyung. No other reason.
Hyunjin is surprised how fast time can pass when he sees Minho-hyung twice a week every week. Sometimes more, when Minho decides that they could do with more practice, and their whole team meets on Saturdays.
A Monday in November finds the two of them walking home together.
Minho takes a long swig of his water, capping it. Hyunjin fiddles with the strap on his backpack.
"Do you think I'll see you in high school next time?"
Minho smiles. "Yeah, I guess. We live on the same street, so there's no way we're not going to the same high school."
A fact that Hyunjin had learnt just a few weeks ago, when he walked out onto the front porch to water the potted plants his mom had placed there, only to be met with Minho's surprised face, a "Hyunjin?" from the older boy, and a very close call that quite nearly ended with him seeing god, in which he tripped over the top step and tumbled into the driveway.
Which had then led to Minho, a picture of pure horror, running over to Hyunjin’s house and laboriously lifting Hyunjin back up the steps and into the house. Hyunjin’s mom, nothing if not hospitable (especially when her son was draped over Minho’s shoulders in a half-piggyback), invited Minho to stay for lunch.
Which led to Minho staying for lunch, because Hyunjin’s mom is also nothing if not persuasive.
Anyway, yeah. A terrible way for Minho to meet his parents for the first time, but that happened.
“That’s good. I’ll miss you so much in dance, though.”
Laughing, the older boy reaches out to tousle Hyunjin’s hair. “You’d do well on your own. You’re a fast learner.” He winks. “I’ll put your name in for prospective unit leader.”
Hyunjin grins. Then, "will you continue dancing in high school?"
"If all goes well, I'll continue dancing in college," Minho affirms. "Dance is… yeah. It's everything for me."
"Me too," Hyunjin blurts. You're everything for me.
Under the bright lights of the auditorium shining right on them is where Hyunjin last sees Minho. In all his dazzling splendour, in his element. Hyunjin would remember that day in February, his first time performing on stage for the 9th graders' graduation.
He'd also remember the way the song ended on that beat, and everything faded away except for Minho's grin, between breaths he took, white teeth flashing in Hyunjin's direction, eyes curving into little crescents, shining with pride.
The first time he'd seen Minho-hyung break his facade on stage.
⏩
"Actually, I saw him again in high school," Hyunjin adds.
Seungmin quirks an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yeah. But by that time, I'd already stopped liking him. And I didn't dance in high school, so there was that. We never talked again."
"Did he remember you, though?"
"I think so. We saw each other in the hallways and he waved. He looked exactly like he did in 9th grade."
Seungmin nods. "The way you talked about him– you must have liked him a lot."
"Can't deny that." Hyunjin shrugs. "He was an amazing mentor and friend, and you should've seen him on stage. He was… a sight."
The look in Hyunjin's eyes is one of awe. Enraptured, entranced, et cetera. Seungmin feels a twinge of something he doesn't want to acknowledge.
"He reminds me of you."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, you two are pretty similar," Hyunjin says, as if as an afterthought. "I won't elaborate."
Seungmin snorts. "Really." He leans in. "Would you fall for me too, then?" He wishes he was joking.
"Yeah, maybe I will," Hyunjin says matter-of-factly. Then, with absolutely no regard for how Seungmin was short-circuiting, just as quick as he'd replied, he moves on. "So that was my dance club mentor. You know the next one. Or, you know, I've briefly mentioned him before."
"Oh." Seungmin grins. "Him."
"Yeah." Hyunjin flushes a shade of pink, embarrassed. "Him."
⏪
iv. Lee Felix, of the stars in the sky.
In 9th grade, Hyunjin's class saw a new student for the first time.
He wasn't from Cheondong Middle or Gangwon Middle, the 2 schools their transfer students were usually from. Typically, students only transferred into schools in neighbouring districts. In fact, Lee Felix wasn't even from a different city in South Korea.
Lee Felix was from Australia.
In hindsight, the way the whole class had overreacted was embarrassing. But at the moment, when their teacher brought in the new student, standing there, one bag slung over his shoulder, and he introduced himself as "Lee Felix, born and raised in Australia", broken Konglish and all, who could blame a class of 15 year olds for ooh- ing and ahh- ing?!
Hyunjin himself was intrigued, but not as much as the group of girls behind him who'd started audibly giggling.
Then, "you can sit next to Hyunjin over there."
This is how it goes, isn't it? New student gets placed next to Hyunjin in the seating plan, Hyunjin befriends him, they get closer, they become best friends, maybe fall in love, maybe fight, maybe Hyunjin finds out he's a secret undercover agent dispatched here to do god knows what. Right?
Basically. One of them, at least.
"Hey, I'm Felix," the boy says, placing his bag on the floor and offering his hand to Hyunjin.
"Hwang Hyunjin."
It is the start of, well, something.
During recess, Hyunjin watches in mild curiosity as Ms Cha talks to Felix, gesturing in Hyunjin's direction every once in a while. He cocks his head as Felix nods, walking in his direction.
"Hey, Ms Cha said that you can show me around the school?" Sure. Hyunjin doesn't do much during recess anyway.
Felix seems to shrink into himself when they exit into the hallway. There are students running through the halls, with the infamous Mr Kim appearing now and then to threaten to expel someone for not having their shirt properly tucked in. Felix's eyebrows jump, to Hyunjin's amusement.
"What was Australia like?" Hyunjin asks, partly to diffuse any tension and partly because he's curious.
"Not like this," Felix laughs.
"You'll want to straighten that tie," Hyunjin suggests, eyes flicking up and down at Felix's uniform. The boy's hands fly to his collar, neatening it.
Ascending a flight of stairs, Hyunjin gestures at the row of doors. "Music room, dance practice room, and art room. This is the 'art hallway'." He points at the bulletin board taking up half of the opposite wall. "That's where any announcements are posted. How do you do in school, by the way?"
"Oh, um." Felix smiles sheepishly. "Average. Enough to get into an okay high school."
Hyunjin laughs. "That makes two of us. My name never appears on that list of top students."
"Neither will I," Felix says decidedly.
Over the next few weeks, Hyunjin comes to realise that Felix had not been lying. He's definitely not the worst, but he's not the best either. He gets an A in one subject– English. Which Hyunjin probably should have seen coming.
"English is the one subject I can't even get a B in," Hyunjin says, sneaking a glance at the 92% written in red at the top of Felix's paper.
"Really?" He glances up at Hyunjin's 58%, raising an eyebrow.
It's like something lit up between them. And so, they enter an agreement.
Thursday afternoons are spent with Felix. In which Felix tries desperately to communicate in perfect, born-in-Korea Hangul, and Hyunjin in turn causes Felix to pull out a lot of hair trying to talk to him in English.
The language barrier between them was translucent enough that Hyunjin could see through it, kinda, but it was there nonetheless. Frosted with broken Korean and attempts at full English sentences.
If Hyunjin’s being honest, the one thing that has kept him going this long is Felix. Felix with the beautiful Australian accent, Felix with the deep dimples, Felix with the constellation of freckles. Lee Felix.
“Your freckles are really pretty,” Hyunjin tells him one day.
He could choose to blame it on the foreign language messing with his brain cells, or the fact that they have an English exam this week and Hyunjin doesn’t know the difference between bear (the animal) and bear (he can’t bear to learn the English language), but he is also fundamentally a very impulsive person. So.
Felix flushes a light shade of pink, which further accentuates his freckles. And Hyunjin realises he should stop staring at the boy’s cheekbones like a fucking creep. Break your eyes away, Hwang Hyunjin, god damn it.
“Oh. Thank you.”
So if anything, those library sessions are a reason for Hyunjin to admire Felix. Not in a creepy way, but in a "the light filtering in from the 2nd window in the corner makes you really beautiful and I love the way you speak your first language" kind of way.
He doesn't like Felix that way. He's just an appreciator of beauty.
He doesn't consider the idea of liking Felix when Felix gets Hyunjin boba from the shop near their school, even though Felix doesn't get one for himself because he doesn't like boba. ("I just happened to walk past the shop and I remembered you telling me.) That's that.
He doesn't consider the idea of liking Felix when Felix remembers everything he tells him.
He doesn't consider the idea of liking Felix when the younger boy lends him his hoodie because he's cold.
He doesn't consider the idea of liking Felix when the Australian's pretty laugh makes Hyunjin's heart skip a beat.
He would say it's because of the fact that Felix had hordes of girls giggling over him, falling to the floor every time he so much as threw a glance in their direction. Because those very female students would also borrow pens from Felix even when Hyunjin could clearly see that their own pencil cases were definitely not empty. And they'd also ask for his number in a way that wasn't very platonic, and not once did Felix resist their advances.
But then again, he also doesn't consider the idea of liking Felix when Felix comes out to him as bisexual over a frozen yogurt on the steps of his porch.
"Did you date anyone? In Australia?" Hyunjin asks, spooning a blueberry into his mouth.
"No," Felix says, moving the spoon around in his mouth. Thank god Hyunjin wasn't saliva conscious. "Not really."
"Not really?"
"Well, I've liked people before, of course. That I can't deny."
Hyunjin nods. For someone who loves as much as he receives love, that is not surprising. "What were girls in Australia like?"
Felix gets an amused look on his face. "Yeah, I've liked one or two girls. One of them was my friend, and another was this girl from church. But if you were to ask me…" he hesitates, looking sideways at Hyunjin, "I've liked more guys."
It takes Hyunjin about 0.28 awkward seconds to register his meaning. "Oh."
Felix maintains a neutral expression. "Yeah, I'm bi. Is that a problem?"
Hyunjin shakes his head hastily. "No, no. It's not," he says quickly. "It's just, we never talked about it, and I kind of assumed, which is obviously wrong. I just thought, with all the girls following you around, that well, you were, um," he runs a hand down his face. "What I'm– well. Me too. Yeah."
Felix raises an eyebrow. "You're bi too?"
"No, no, I– I like boys. Yeah."
"Oh. That's cool."
So Hyunjin finds out that the very cute student from Australia, whom he'd become fast friends with, liked boys and girls. Not that that changed anything at all.
No, the catalyst, as he would technically call it, was a few weeks later.
Hyunjin is painting in a corner of his room, sneaking glances every now and then at Felix, perched at the edge of Hyunjin's bed. He's immersed in this book he'd slid off Hyunjin's shelf. It's a gay love story that Hyunjin definitely didn't place strategically such that it would be the first thing Felix saw when he walked in.
He turns his attention back to the canvas. Today, he paints stars. A network of tiny celestial bodies, set in a beige background. Each star is as intricate as the next, all different sizes, but roughly the same. Tiny specks that don't seem much on its own, but together, create something that Hyunjin can't look away from.
He steals another glance at Felix. It's like something comes to him.
Felix with the beautiful network of freckles that Hyunjin had just painted. Felix, as charming on the inside as he was outside, Felix who had all the girls all over him but who would choose to hang out over at Hyunjin's on a Friday night.
"Felix," Hyunjin calls suddenly. "I think– well, I think I like you."
Of all the types of confessions in the world, this is not the most romantic nor the most ideal. But, as was his aforementioned fatal flaw, Hyunjin is impulsive.
Only, Felix just smiles. "Yeah, I like you too. I thought it was kind of obvious."
"Wait, you– you like me too?" Hyunjin chokes out.
Felix nods.
"Like, so, does that mean we…?" He lets his question trail off into a pool of uncertainty.
"Do you wanna go out, Hyunjinnie?"
It's an innocent question. One which, in all his 15 years of living, Hyunjin had never heard before. Previously an unimaginable concept. Him, Hwang Hyunjin, dating a boy? A boy who was so cute, and so completely out of his league?
"Yeah. Okay. Let's go out."
⏩
"Ah," Seungmin smiles fondly, "I still laugh at that story every time. Although this is the first time I've heard the full thing."
"Yeah, it's really… well, I really did like him."
"I know."
Seungmin's well aware. He knows the ending of the story pretty well. They broke up after 7 months, but amicably. According to Hyunjin, it was a pretty good 7 months. Only toward the end, it started feeling more like an obligation to be more than friends.
"It just taught me not to rush into things, I guess. Fifteen years old." Hyunjin scoffs. "Not even high school."
It's probably for this reason, Seungmin deduces, that Hyunjin is so embarrassed about that period in his life. Not because Felix was anything to be embarrassed about, but because they were young, and emotionally immature. Not even close to being ready for a real relationship.
Plus, now that Seungmin's heard the whole story, it was kind of funny. He could totally understand why it wouldn't have worked out.
"I'm not gonna say anything," Seungmin says. "Thanks for finally telling me the whole story, though. You have no idea how long I've waited."
Hyunjin snorts. "I hope it was good enough. That’s the most interesting one." He stares pointedly. “The only one that worked out.”
"Oh. And how many more are there?”
“Two.” Hyunjin smiles.
⏪
v. Yang Jeongin, on letting go.
Hyunjin falls again, in his last year of high school.
A new family moves in next door to him. This means the departure of the Kims, and although he’s slightly disappointed because that also means Mrs Kim can’t give them any more food when she makes too much, he’s also kind of excited to see who’s gonna take their place.
It’s a Saturday morning when the Yangs move in. Already ready to make the best first impression, Hyunjin’s mom has filled their largest tupperware full of kimchi.
So Hyunjin finds himself awkwardly standing in the driveway of his neighbours’ house, looking utterly stupid holding a huge tupperware while Mr and Mrs Yang rush in and out of the house, moving furniture and seemingly not noticing Hyunjin’s presence at all.
There are two moving vans currently unloading everything the Yangs own. It’s a lot of things for just one couple to have in their possession. Not that Hyunjin’s one to judge, but there’s no way two people would have any use for three sofas. It’s just—
“Hey, can I help you?” Hyunjin jumps, tearing his eyes away from the coffee table that Mr Yang is currently carrying into the house. There’s a boy in front of him, sharp eyes curving into a bemused expression. Okay, so there’s more than husband and wife living in this house.
“Oh! Uh, yeah. I mean, no. I just wanted to give you- I mean, your family, this.” He hands over the tupperware awkwardly.
The boy stares oddly for a second, but just as Hyunjin’s about to apologise and withdraw his hands, he reaches out and takes it. “Thanks,” he smiles. His voice is pretty.
“Oh, it’s no problem. My, uh, my mom made it. She’s very overeager and all, and she likes to make a good first impression. So—”
He realises all too late that he’s rambling, but the boy’s face had already split into a grin. “Yeah, I get it. My mom’s like that too.”
Hyunjin laughs. “Yeah. What’s your name, by the way?”
“Oh!” The boy holds a hand out. “Yang Jeongin.”
Yang Jeongin. Hyunjin rolls the name around his mouth. Yang Jeongin. It had a nice ring to it. He decides he likes Jeongin.
“Hwang Hyunjin.”
He finds out, Jeongin is one grade below him.
Not that that matters, at all, but this means Hyunjin doesn’t see Jeongin much. Jeongin leaves his house at erratic timings, so sometimes if Hyunjin’s lucky enough, he might shut the door and turn to see Jeongin standing on the adjacent porch. Other times, he’d wait for 5 minutes, maxing his time out, before deciding to leave without the younger boy. He never knows if Jeongin decided to leave earlier that day, or if he was just ready to risk it all by being late. He seemed like the type.
On days when Hyunjin manages to catch Jeongin, they walk to school together. It’s a little awkward, at the start, but they gradually get into a familiar routine, and Jeongin also becomes considerably more comfortable around Hyunjin.
He tells Hyunjin about any new happenings in school, laments about the extra subjects and extracurriculars he has to take, and sometimes sneaks in a diss or two about any teachers.
“Mrs Choi called me out in class yesterday for sleeping,” Jeongin complains. “It was so embarrassing.”
Hyunjin slings his arm over Jeongin’s shoulders affectionately. “Everyone gets that at some point. You should sleep earlier. I see your light in your room at 2am.”
“Why are you awake to see that?” Jeongin retorts, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“I, unlike you, manage to stay awake in class.”
It’s new territory for both of them, being friends with someone of a different age. Hyunjin knows it sounds stupid, but there is a difference.
With Jeongin, he’s not afraid to say or do things he normally wouldn’t even consider doing around his other friends.
Like when Jeongin nearly shocked Hyunjin to death by showing up on his front porch on a very rainy Wednesday evening, dragging him out to run laps in the rain. It was very cold and Hyunjin was shivering to no end, but he marvelled at the way Jeongin was so utterly in his element. Hair sticking flat to his temple and all. To this day, Hyunjin still can’t understand why he did that.
They create this system. It wasn’t an active decision, more like a slow development, but Hyunjin realises that leaning slightly out of his window and craning his neck to the left results in him getting a perfect view of Jeongin’s room.
“You weren’t even studying last night. You were gaming. I saw,” Hyunjin says the next morning, narrowing his eyes.
Jeongin’s eyes widen. “You fucking creep! Why were you staring into my room?”
“I wasn’t!” Hyunjin exclaims, on the defensive. “You live next door.” Jeongin only rolls his eyes, shoving Hyunjin in the shoulder. Huffing, Hyunjin shoves him back indignantly. “I’m older than you.”
“You’re an asshole.”
The thing is, Jeongin is straight.
Hyunjin realises that later on. The first thing is that Jeongin talks about a girl in his class very often. Hyunjin indulges him, because it’s interesting to hear about how Jeongin pathetically tries to get her attention.
In spite of this, Hyunjin wonders if Jeongin could possibly also be into guys. He’d made the mistake of assuming once, and he wasn’t going to do it again. Although he knows, somehow, before Jeongin confirms it, that it’s probably not the case.
He’s right. “No, I’m only into girls,” Jeongin tells him.
The conversation had come about only because Jeongin had ventured slightly out of the boundaries of his girl crush, resulting in “do you like anyone, hyung?”
Hyunjin wishes he could say he didn’t jump at the opportunity. “No. I don’t find any guys cute.”
Surprisingly, Jeongin doesn’t even blink. “Yeah, I figured. Guys in my class aren’t cute either.”
Hyunjin is grateful that Jeongin doesn’t dig further, although he gets an inexplicable twinge of hope that Jeongin saying “guys” and “cute” in the same sentence meant something more. “Do you like guys?”
So, no, apparently. Jeongin doesn’t like guys. Which obviously doesn’t matter, because Hyunjin doesn’t like him that way, and he fundamentally doesn’t fall for straight guys.
Geumgwang Beach is a beautiful place.
Geumgwang isn’t its real name. It doesn’t really have one. It’s a tiny beach near the edge of their outskirt neighbourhood, barely recognised as a beach. It doesn’t have a real name, or if it does, it’s been long forgotten.
“People here named it Geumgwang because of that one time a three year old kid down the block ran down here and filled her hat with sand,” Hyunjin explains, scuffing the soles of his sandals on any hard rocks hidden in the sand. “And then when her mom found her, the kid told everyone that she found gold.”
Jeongin laughs. “Gold mine. Cute.” Jeongin’s voice is cute, Hyunjin thinks. Sharp at the edges, like his eyes.
Hyunjin slips out of his sandals, letting the tide wash over his ankles. “Are you scared of water?” He asks, casting Jeongin a sideways glance.
Jeongin scoffs. In lieu of an answer, he casts his crocs off to the side and wades in, getting almost waist deep before Hyunjin, laughing, follows him in.
The water comes up to Jeongin’s chest. “You’re so short,” Hyunjin teases, shoving him.
“I could literally bodyslam you right now, in the water,” Jeongin warns.
“Yeah, like you fucking c—”
He’s cut off as Jeongin reaches over, lifting him right off the sandy bottom of the water. He shrieks, kicking Jeongin in the stomach. “Put me the fuck down!”
Jeongin laughs, loud and rumbling, placing Hyunjin down carefully. “I’m just too nice,” he says. Hyunjin glares, splashing Jeongin in the face.
“Oh, you’re gonna regret that, hyung,” Jeongin says, chasing a now squealing Hyunjin around the water. He finally catches him, all but wrestling him to the shore, both of them panting amidst gasps of laughter. It is maybe the most fun Hyunjin has had in a while.
They get towels from a stand nearby, Jeongin tousling his jet black hair and running a hand through it. The sun is setting at this point, and Jeongin turns, grinning at him. The reddish incandescence makes Jeongin’s features glow.
Hyunjin realises a while later, tragically, that maybe just this once, he has fallen for a straight guy.
He also realises, with a little bit of something he can’t name weighing his heart down, that he can never let those words bubble to the surface of his tongue.
“Bora asked me out!” Jeongin tells him excitedly one day.
Hyunjin forces himself to be happy for Jeongin. His words come out stuffy, a little like the overly artificial cotton candy their annual carnival sells. “Congrats!”
Jeongin is all but ecstatic; he doesn’t even notice the way Hyunjin doesn’t smile as much as he should.
So Hyunjin learns that some things are just not meant to be. He stays friends with Jeongin, of course. The younger boy never learns of Hyunjin’s crush on him.
Slowly, the crush fades into something small, greying and barely there, like a childhood memory he’d revisit every now and then. And then their friendship, too, fades just a little bit, because after all, Hyunjin is a year older than Jeongin.
He leaves for college and Jeongin stays. Class of 2020.
But it’s not an upsetting memory. Jeongin, he means.
⏩
Seungmin sits in open-mouthed silence for a few seconds.
“Wow. That was…”
“No, no.” Hyunjin laughs. “I’m over it now. It was just, well, I did like him. I wouldn’t say it was an infatuation. I feel like I, honest-to-god— liked Jeongin.”
“That was kind of a wild ride,” Seungmin admits. It’s surprising how much he doesn’t know about Hyunjin.
“We were pretty good friends. For all but a year, thereabout.”
“Did you guys keep in touch after you left?”
Hyunjin hesitates. “Well, yeah… for a while. Then he found his own friends.”
“Don’t cry.”
Hyunjin kicks Seungmin in the shin. “I wasn’t gonna cry, asshat.”
They laugh, but Hyunjin has this look on his face, like his eyes would be red rimmed, except they’re not.
“The thing about feelings… they’re just like that. Some don’t work out,” Hyunjin says quietly.
The way Hyunjin talks about Jeongin— there’s something in his tone and the way he says Jeongin’s name. The way he accentuates certain words and pauses at certain points. Seungmin is almost certain that out of everyone, Jeongin is the one Hyunjin loved.
As if on command, Hyunjin shrugs. “It wasn’t love, though. Maybe I thought it was. In hindsight, on the other hand…”
Guiltily, Seungmin feels a sense of relief. Although he can’t help but wonder, if that wasn’t love, then what the hell was Hyunjin’s idea of love?
⏪
vi. Christopher Bang, of the words left unsaid.
College campuses are vastly different from high school campuses.
They’re sprawling, and huge. From Hyunjin’s vantage point, standing in the courtyard, he can’t even see where the campus starts and ends. It’s like it goes on forever.
He thinks first year students should be provided with a map with every room stated in detail, along with the room names and numbers. As well as the dorm block. He still has no idea how he’d ended up in the hallways of the girls’ dorm when he’d been looking for his history lecture hall. That unfortunate experience had resulted in him not only being terribly embarrassed, but he’d also turned up to his first history lesson late. What a first impression.
And today, he’s late again. How was there not a single map in sight from where he stood?! At this rate, there was no way he was even gonna get to his class even a decent, excusable half an hour late.
Dashing into the building, with his index and middle finger crossed on one hand, he checks each door. None of them look like a lecture hall. And there was no way he was going to knock on every door.
He swings a door open.
A guy with curly blonde hair sits in one corner, a pair of headphones over his ears, his laptop perched on his crossed legs. Said guy jumps, nearly throwing the laptop off. “Oh my god.”
They stare speechlessly at each other, Hyunjin with his hand still on the doorknob. The guy recovers slightly, now flushing. “Um, can I help you?”
It’s then that Hyunjin realises, all too embarrassingly, that he’d just opened the door to the janitor’s closet. And that the guy he’d just nearly frightened to death is sitting on the floor. Next to a mop.
But then—
“What are you… doing here?”
The guy takes the headphones off, scratching the back of his neck. “Um. That’s a difficult question,” he says, all too helpfully.
Hyunjin stares unblinkingly.
“Well, I—” he stumbles, “I come in here? Sometimes?”
Although he senses they’re kind of drifting into awkward territory, Hyunjin cocks his head. “Why?”
“Why—” the guy frowns, the skin between his eyebrows creasing. “Because it helps me focus. It’s quiet. You know, because the library is never as quiet and peaceful as you want it to be, and anywhere else is hopeless.”
Hyunjin nods slowly, at a loss for words. “Right.”
“Yeah, so…” he chuckles, and it’s a nice sound. He runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah.”
“I’ll, uh, leave you alone then?” Hyunjin says. The guy nods, and Hyunjin nearly closes the door when he suddenly remembers.
“Wait!” The guy looks up, taking his headphones off again. Hyunjin notices the three— four?— piercings on his left ear.
“Yes?”
“Can you, um, can you tell me where lecture hall 7 is?” He asks.
The blonde raises an eyebrow. “Oh, um, it’s in the other block. Do you want me to show you?” He doesn’t even let Hyunjin answer before he shuts the laptop, getting to his feet.
Gratefully, Hyunjin closes the door behind them. “Thanks.”
The senior (at least, Hyunjin thinks he’s a senior) leads the way, his laptop tucked under his arm. “What year are you?”
“First,” Hyunjin says. The blonde’s eyebrows jump. “You?”
“I’m fourth,” he says. “No wonder you couldn’t find the way. It’s fine. When I was new, I got myself into… many different situations.” He chuckles.
Hyunjin decides he likes this senior.
“What’s your name?”
“Hwang Hyunjin.”
The guy nods. “I’m Christopher Bang.”
He says it in English, and something about that accent rings a bell in Hyunjin’s mind. He digs through his shelved memories quickly, and—
“You’re Australian?” He blurts.
Christopher raises an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah, I am. How’d you know?”
Hyunjin laughs to himself. Huh. Maybe he did have a type. “I knew an Australian once.”
“Oh!” Christopher looks pleasantly surprised. “That’s interesting.”
They arrive in front of a large door, and Christopher gestures grandly. “Tada. Don’t barge into a janitor’s closet next time. You may not be as lucky as you were today.”
Flushing, Hyunjin bows quickly. “Thank you.”
Over the next few days, Hyunjin doesn’t see Christopher much. He doesn’t really expect to, anyway, since they were a whole three years apart.
Then, later, the senior slides into the bench opposite him while he’s rushing out a history assignment in the lunch hall.
“Hey.”
Hyunjin instinctively looks over his shoulder, as if there was a cooler, older, non-freshman standing behind him. He points at himself. “Me?” He asks intelligently.
Christopher laughs. “Yeah, you.”
“Why?” He says, yet another very smart thing to say.
Christopher looks at him, amused. “It’s a free seat. I’m just here to get some work done.”
Hyunjin doesn’t point out the numerous empty tables around them. “Why aren’t you in the janitor’s closet?” He blurts instead, regretting it the second the words leave his mouth.
Thankfully, Christopher just chuckles goodnaturedly. “The weather is good today,” he says cryptically. “Wouldn’t want to waste this opportunity inside a broom closet.”
Hyunjin raises his eyebrows. “Fair point.”
They descend into comfortable silence. Hyunjin finishes the essay and his bottle of coffee, and Christopher, sitting opposite him, seems to be perpetually frowning at his laptop screen.
“What major are you?” Hyunjin asks, because he’s curious, and also because his brain-to-mouth filter is completely fried and he decided to ask a meaningless question even when Christopher was clearly busy.
“Music,” the senior says. “You?”
“Art history.” Their majors are vastly different. Looking at Christopher now, Hyunjin can kind of tell that he’s a music major. Or some kind of performance major, at least.
“I like art history. It was one of my other choices, the more, well, conventional one.”
“What are you going to do with a music major?” Hyunjin asks, regulating his tone such that he doesn't come off as rude.
Christopher squints, looking at Hyunjin like he’s contemplating something. Hyunjin, for a moment, is worried that he’d overstepped some boundary. Then, “I perform gigs sometimes, on the weekends. At this bar nearby. You should come watch. If you want,” he adds hastily.
“Of course I will.”
Grinning, Christopher offers his phone. “I can text you the address.”
Hyunjin is a little taken aback by how fast this friendship— whatever it is— is progressing, but he obliges, putting in his number.
“Hwang… Hyun…Jin,” the senior mumbles, biting his bottom lip as he typed in the name. Hyunjin’s phone lights up with a notification a few moments later. “There.”
“Thanks, sunbae,” Hyunjin says, starring the message so he could get back to it later.
“Call me hyung.” The blonde smiles. “Chris hyung.”
The word filters like sunlight into Hyunjin’s mind, warming him little by little. “Okay, hyung.”
He goes to the bar, of course.
It’s stuffy, and dark, but he’s curious. He wants to see Chris in action, not just hunched over a laptop screen. He gets offered a few drinks, even has a drunk man throw himself over him, but he wrangles his way to the front near the stage.
The deejay lets the music fade to a stop, and another deejay on the stage takes over. A track starts playing, something distinctly SoundCloud, but also… not bad? No, it was actually pretty good.
A blonde haired guy runs up onto the stage. Chris notices him, raising a hand in acknowledgement, a smile spilling across his face.
Hyunjin watches him rap. He was a really good rapper. Not that Hyunjin knew anything about rap, but his flow and tone was compelling. (Hyunjin had middle school knowledge about flow and tone, but what he could say for sure was that Chris was definitely talented.)
He sits— stands— through the entire performance, three songs in total. It’s like watching Chris in his element. He interacts with the audience sometimes, and his eyes flick back to Hyunjin a few times too. On the stage, Christopher Bang was… captivating, he supposes.
When the performance is over, Chris slips backstage, and doesn’t come out for a while. Hyunjin waits for another fifteen minutes, then quietly takes his leave.
“Why didn’t you wait up yesterday?” Chris asks, placing his laptop on the table opposite Hyunjin.
How the fuck was Christopher finding him in this huge campus?!
“Oh! I didn’t know you were expecting me to,” he says apologetically. “I did wait, for about 20 minutes. I left when you didn’t come out.”
Chris sticks his bottom lip out exaggeratedly. “Come backstage next time.”
Not for the first time, Hyunjin wonders why Chris was hanging out with him so much, of all people.
Nevertheless, Hyunjin does go to all of Chris’ gigs. Every Saturday and Sunday evening. By the end of a month, he’s kind of memorised every song Chris has made. Or at least, every song the senior performed. He also found Chris’ SoundCloud account (he linked it on his Instagram profile! That was basically asking for Hyunjin to find it.)
Christopher is charming. He could have anyone he wanted. He was basically every definition of boyfriend material, in Hyunjin’s very objective and very informed opinion.
And Hyunjin, well, he’s Hyunjin. First year freshman, art history major Hyunjin. He’s not gonna undersell himself, because he knows he’s a catch too, but compared to Christopher, it’s unfathomable why the 22 year old would hang out with him.
Yet, he becomes a fast friend.
And maybe, one day, under the flashing lights of the inside of a bar, when Chris makes eye contact with him from onstage and splits into a grin, the dimples oh-so-prominent, Hyunjin has to mentally slap himself. Because, god damn it, he’s done it again.
Later, backstage, Hyunjin can’t look at Chris the same way. He’s still the same Chris, the same Christopher Bang, but different now.
“You were really amazing on stage, hyung.”
Hyunjin is not a lyricist like Christopher. He doesn’t write pretty prose or breathtaking sentences. But watching Chris now, well, it was something of a renaissance.
And he could swear Chris felt the same way.
He could’ve been overthinking it, but the lingering glances and the knowing eye contact in every performance had to mean something. And the way Chris hung out with him, because Hyunjin is so adamant on the fact that he could pull absolutely anyone on god’s green earth, was also mind-boggling.
They never tell each other, by the way.
Hyunjin doesn’t want to fuck something up. And he thankfully doesn’t slip up, all the way till Chris’ graduation day. Which was an impressively long time to stay resilient, but in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t really all that long.
Seeing Chris in that gown and hat reminds Hyunjin just how out of his league the older one was. Not in a grating way, but in a sort of sore, heartache-y way. A kind of way that Hyunjin can already tell will give Chris a top shelf in his memories, that he’d look through in times to come.
Chris leaves him a tape. “Listen to it after I leave,” he tells him. “And please don’t ask questions.”
So Hyunjin does as he says. In his room at night, he plays it, and it’s a different kind of genre compared to what he’d previously heard from Chris. A mellowy, soft, lazy rap. But still so painfully Chris.
Most of messages Chris sent him in the lyrics were cryptic, but it doesn’t take a genius to decode “the more I look into your eyes, the more I can’t be apart.” Well.
He decides not to text Chris about it. He’d have had his reasons for the time frame in which he executed all this. Hyunjin’s not about to make any mistakes like he might’ve had in combating previous crushes. So he lets Chris fade into a memory as promised.
“The one that got away”, if you will.
⏩
“Do you still have the tape?” Seungmin asks.
Hyunjin’s lips twist into a smile. “Of course I do. Somewhere in my closet. I’ll let you listen to it one day.”
Seungmin treads cautiously. “What if he… wanted you to text him back?”
Hyunjin shrugs. “Chances are, he didn’t. If there’s anything so many years of failed crushes teach you, it’s how to read the room. Why would he give it to me on the day of graduation?”
“Why would he give it to you at all, if he didn’t want anything to happen?” Seungmin retorts.
Hyunjin smiles ruefully. “So that he’d get the chance to say what he wanted to, I guess.”
“That’s not fair. You didn’t.”
“I don’t want to speculate,” Hyunjin says with an air of finality that shuts Seungmin up. “He was just a… fond memory.”
Secretly, Seungmin disagrees. The thing about Hyunjin was that he was so willing to please. He was forever wanting to make the opposite end happy, and if that jeopardised his own happiness, then so be it.
Seungmin hated that Hyunjin let himself live that way.
“So was he the one you loved?”
Hyunjin casts his eyes downwards, playing with the tassel on the pillow. “No.”
Seungmin, confused, quirks his eyebrow. “Not him, and not any of the previous ones, then… who?”
Hyunjin looks up at him, bemused. “It was someone else. Someone entirely different.”
Seungmin squints. “Um…”
Hyunjin nods. “Okay.”
vii.
He is in one of Hyunjin’s classes, year 3 of college. Contemporary world history.
(Seungmin has a spark of a memory. He was in Hyunjin’s contemporary world history class. He digs through the crevasses of his mind; it wasn’t a very big class.)
He sits in front of Hyunjin.
He is smart. Hyunjin remembers, specifically, his glasses. Thin, black-rimmed circular glasses that complemented his face shape so well.
He answers so many questions in class. At the start, Hyunjin is slightly annoyed. But he grows to admire the boy for that exact reason.
Hyunjin still recalls. His brown hair, neatly styled every day. His smartly ironed blouses. His jeans, the one casual element of his whole get-up. Hyunjin remembers every detail.
(Seungmin starts to suspect. The memories are hazy, after all. It’s gonna take more hints for him to confirm it.)
The first time Hyunjin interacts with the boy, it is to borrow a pen. Because, all too used to taking notes digitally, Hyunjin has forgotten to bring his entire pencil case.
He comes to realise that the boy is not as insufferable as everyone made him out to be.
He answered every question in class, yes. He was the dictionary definition of a ‘teacher’s pet’, that was for sure.
He was also compassionate. Kind. Altruistic.
He lends Hyunjin his notes. It may have started there.
(Seungmin’s mouth drops into the shape of an ‘o’. Hyunjin, at this point in his narration, gives Seungmin a knowing look, but he also looks like he wants to bury himself alive. He continues.)
Hyunjin, ever the model student, does not religiously take down notes every lecture. He simply does not have the time.
The boy is disciplined. He does what is asked of him by the professors. It’s why he has straight As.
His notes are neat, straight, nearly printed. Hyunjin jokes that he could sell them online to make a profit.
The boy says, straight-faced, that he’d lend them out for free. Because education was a blessing to be shared. Not a hint of irony. Hyunjin is endeared.
The boy agrees to lend Hyunjin his notes, but he also encourages Hyunjin to take his own. Because he’s a nerd like that.
They frequent the library together. Every Thursday afternoon, and every other free day.
The boy tutors him. With a 4.0 gpa, he has plenty of brain cells to share with Hyunjin. With his help—
Hyunjin’s grades go up by 7% to 8%. A whole different gpa.
His newfound friend must be a god.
(Seungmin flushes. His cheeks prickle with mild heat.)
It must, after all, be a mutually beneficial friendship. Hyunjin will help his friend as much as he has helped him.
He teaches the boy to loosen up.
Not in a bad way, he swears he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just that his friend is very uptight, and needs to learn to free himself from the loose shackles he’d put himself in.
He invites his friend home.
Hyunjin laboriously introduces him to every record player in his room. Old 80s music to iconic 00s pop punk.
His friend tells him he likes rock bands. Pop rock, punk rock, rock ballads.
It’s not what Hyunjin had taken him for.
Nonetheless, he indulges him as he pulls up Day6’s newest album on Spotify.
He had many bands he liked, his friend told him, but none as much as Day6.
Hyunjin likes “What Can I Do”. The boy tells him that that is also one of his favourites.
When his friend leaves, the sun is already setting. Bathed in a purplish glow, he bids goodbye.
He goes back up to his room, and nearly clears Day6’s entire discography by the time midnight arrives.
Hyunjin falls asleep to “Like a Flowing Wind”.
His friend is thrilled to know that Hyunjin has taken an interest in his favourite band. They make a promise to see them live one day, together.
Then Hyunjin hears him sing for the first time, weeks later.
It is a beautiful sound.
Beautiful was an understatement.
Listening to him sing, the way the melody flowed, the way his tone fluctuated perfectly from a lower register to a falsetto without breaking a sweat, realising how different his singing voice was from his speaking voice— Hyunjin could listen to him sing forever.
(Seungmin’s heart skips a beat or two. Or three.)
That was, maybe, the second sign.
A year passes. Hyunjin is in his fourth year. A senior.
Fourth year is filled with so many ups and downs. Perhaps all Hyunjin’s highest and lowest points clustered in one year.
The downs: School is extra stressful. He gets a maximum of two hours of sleep every day. His gpa isn’t the best. It takes a toll on one mentally.
The ups: His constant. The one who is there for him all the time. The one who would pick his calls up at three am because he’s mentally breaking down over an unfinished assignment. The one whom he spends weekends with.
Things are not always all that bad.
“Are you dating anyone?” his mom asks him, 22 years old.
He tells her no.
“Do you like anyone?”
No, Hyunjin repeats. Because he doesn’t.
He asks his friend that same question, later on. He’s curious.
“Why do you ask?”
Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t say anything.
It is quiet for a while, then his friend shakes his head. No. He didn’t.
Okay.
Although, he doesn’t know whether to believe him or not.
Graduation day, he cries, laughs, and it’s an altogether rollercoaster of a day. His fourth year, in a nutshell.
“I’m so glad we’ve graduated.”
They don’t attend any graduation parties. It’s not the sort of thing his friend likes, and Hyunjin would much rather spend the evening with him.
So they hang out at Hyunjin’s house.
It’s crazy how time has passed. He’s known his friend for only about two years now, but it’s felt like a really long time.
His friend applies for a job at the museum as an event manager. With his eloquence and 4.0 gpa, it is no surprise that he gets accepted.
Hyunjin is so happy for him.
He takes a gap year, though. He’s thinking of pursuing a graduate degree as well.
His friend gets busier, but they don’t drift. Not even close. If anything, they become closer than ever.
Hyunjin goes to the museum any free day he has. The employees there joke that he’s basically an honorary employee too.
He picks up a side job at a retail store. It’s enough to make a living profit, for now.
24 years old, his friend suggests moving in together.
He helps list the economical benefits. They could split the rent. It’s a good idea.
So they do. They spend a whole day in Ikea.
Hyunjin has never liked Ikea. It’s so big and endless, and it’s tiring to walk through.
But he enjoys that one Ikea trip.
2 November 2024, they officially move in. It’s a pretty two bedroom apartment. Hyunjin decides he likes it very much.
Many nights are spent together. Dinner, eating, drinking, movies on the couch.
It’s really everything Hyunjin could have asked for.
The first time Hyunjin realises he is in love with Kim Seungmin, he is twenty-five years old.
(Seungmin needs to steady his heart before it beats right out of his chest.)
He thinks— after all his past crushes, if he were to feel love, real, actual love—
It would feel like this.
He doesn’t tell Seungmin.
When the younger one arrives home, Hyunjin just welcomes him and calls for delivery, because Seungmin is clearly tired and Hyunjin can’t cook.
He listens to Seungmin talk about his day. About the American couple that they had the most trouble conversing with because Mark, their translator, had called in sick that day. And about how he’d missed the bus.
Hyunjin tells him that he could’ve called. He would have driven over in a heartbeat.
Seungmin smiles, shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
Hyunjin has fallen again for the first time in 6 years.
He has learnt not to rush into things from some people. He’s learnt that sometimes, people don’t reciprocate. And he’s learnt that sometimes, they need time. So he doesn’t say anything.
He doesn’t say anything for almost a year.
He doesn’t stop loving Seungmin, as he did Jeongin or Chris. If anything, his heart threatened to swell out of his chest even more every time Seungmin looked at him.
Then, one day, watching Seungmin try his very best to get a drink out of the vending machine, (which was so cute, by the way)—
(Seungmin flushes in embarrassment.)
— he asks that million dollar question.
“Have you ever been in love?”
Seungmin doesn’t look at him for a while, still preoccupied with the vending machine. Hyunjin could just tell him that it didn’t accept 10 won coins, but where was the fun in that?
(Seungmin glares. What the fuck. Hyunjin just grins sheepishly.)
Seungmin turns the question onto him instead. “Have you ever been in love, then?”
Hyunjin tells him honestly. He believes it, truly. Nothing felt much like this.
“Once.” You.
—
“…Oh,” is all Seungmin manages when Hyunjin finishes.
“Look, it’s okay if you don’t reciprocate,” Hyunjin says quickly. “I’m just— I didn’t want to miss the chance to tell you.”
Seungmin’s heart aches for Hyunjin.
“Hyunjinnie…”
“Really, it’s fine!” Hyunjin reaches out reflexively, grabbing Seungmin’s hand. “We can just stay friends. Please.”
“No, it’s just…” I like you too.
“Just?” Hyunjin asks anxiously. “I’m really sorry if—”
“Just that,” Seungmin’s lips curl up into a small smile despite how hard he’s trying to school his expression. “You took a really long time to figure that out.”
“…What?”
“I can’t believe you only knew at 25.” Seungmin scoffs fondly, tilting his head. “Hyunjinnie, not when I loved you from the moment you told me Moonrise was your favourite album.”
Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, his mouth opening and closing.
“You were my first friend in college.”
Seungmin doesn’t lie to him. He knows he was unpopular in college. So when Hyunjin approached him for the first time, and when the interactions didn’t stop at Hyunjin returning his pen, he felt a little spark of something.
Then Hyunjin took interest in everything Seungmin told him, and he genuinely looked like he liked spending time with Seungmin. Maybe there wasn’t a certain catalyst. Most probably, it was an accumulation of everything.
He tells Hyunjin as such.
“So you love me? Like, love love?” Eloquent as ever.
“Is it that surprising?” Seungmin laughs softly. “Yeah, Jinnie. I love you. Love love.”
As Jisung had taught Hyunjin about first crushes, or as Changbin had taught Hyunjin about infatuated, superficial loving; or Minho, on the blood rush; Felix, on the head-in-the-clouds feeling; Jeongin, on losing and letting go; and Chris, on grabbing onto opportunities before they’re gone— Seungmin hopes he can teach Hyunjin some things too.
Maybe he could show Hyunjin the flying and the falling. The nervousness and the thrill, the giving, the taking, the loving, the losing, (but mostly the loving). He’d teach Hyunjin how it would feel when his chest swelled and their hearts beat in tandem.
He hopes that one day, Hyunjin could recount every one of them again. And he’d remember Seungmin differently; specially.
(vii. Kim Seungmin, of love that ran deep.)
fin.