Sechan couldn't accept what Jungwon had told him.
The words still rang in his head, echoing like a haunting tune he couldn't silence no matter how hard he tried. His chest felt tight, like his ribs were closing in around his heart. No matter how much he replayed the moment, he couldn't understand why it hurt so much. He clenched his phone tightly in his hand before raising it to his ear.
"Tae," his voice was low, tired. "Are you… are you willing to go have a drink?"
There was a pause on the other end, but when Tae replied, his voice held a trace of relief, like he'd been waiting for the invitation all along.
"I've been thinking the same," Tae murmured. "Let's go."
That night, the two of them ended up in a dimly lit bar tucked into a quiet corner of the city. The air was heavy with cigarette smoke and the soft hum of jazz music playing in the background. Neither of them said much at first — just ordered drink after drink, the silence between them filled with things they didn't know how to express.
Glass after glass, their walls began to crumble.
Tae was the first to crack.
He slammed his half-empty shot glass on the table and turned to Sechan, eyes glassy with unshed frustration.
"You," he began, voice slurred but thick with emotion, "it's because of you that Kwon is avoiding me…"
Sechan blinked, startled.
Tae laughed bitterly, shaking his head as if mocking himself. "He said… said it's 'cause we're birds of the same feather. So we flock together, huh?" He leaned closer, jabbing a shaky finger toward Sechan's chest. "Why can't you just treat Jungwon better? Why can't you just get your act together? If you did, maybe… maybe my Kwon wouldn't be pushing me away too."
The words hit harder than Sechan expected.
His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't say anything. Tae's pain was raw and real — and in it, he could feel his own reflected. The guilt clung to him like a second skin.
Sechan looked at his friend, eyes heavy with remorse. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice barely audible over the sound of clinking glasses and low music. "I… I didn't know it was hurting you too."
Tae looked away, wiping his face as if trying to hide the emotions threatening to spill out. But it was too late. They were both cracked open — vulnerable, honest in a way they rarely allowed themselves to be.
"What do I do?" Sechan muttered, running his hand through his hair, voice strained. "I don't know what to do anymore, Tae."
The silence that followed wasn't empty. It was filled with the weight of friendship, of broken connections, of two people trying to hold on to the people they loved — and failing, slowly, painfully.
They sat there, lost in their drinks and regrets, wishing they could turn time back to before everything got so complicated.
But the night offered no answers.
Only the echo of things left unsaid.
Sechan stared at his phone, Jungwon's name glowing softly on the screen.
The number had been there for weeks. Always a tap away, always untouched. His thumb hovered just above the call button, but his heart thudded like a warning drum in his chest. He couldn't bring himself to press it. What would he even say? What if Jungwon didn't answer? Or worse… what if he did?
From the corner of his eye, Sechan noticed Tae watching him quietly.
Tae didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes was enough — knowing, tired, full of a different kind of ache. He had his own ghosts, and they shared the same room.
"I'll be leaving," Tae finally said, his voice flat, though his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his jacket like he was bracing himself for something he wasn't ready for.
Sechan nodded silently, unable to stop him, unwilling to ask where he was going. But he already knew.
Tae drove in silence.
The road to Kwon's house was familiar, yet it felt strangely long tonight. He parked the car a short distance away, far enough that he wouldn't be noticed right away, close enough that he could still see the light in Kwon's room.
He turned off the engine and sat there, staring out through the windshield. The night was quiet, the stars hidden behind clouds that matched his mood — heavy, unsure.
The smell of alcohol clung to him like a second skin. His breath was warm with it, his body a little sluggish. And his heart? A mess. A mess he wasn't sure Kwon would ever want to clean up with him.
Tae let his head drop onto the steering wheel and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a long time. Just breathing. Just waiting. Just existing in the space between guilt and hope.
Inside the house, Kwon's grandmother was knitting quietly by the window when she noticed the car parked outside. Her eyes narrowed.
"Kwon," she called out, "I think you have a visitor."
Kwon walked over with a mild frown. "A visitor?"
He peered through the window and immediately recognized Tae's car. His heart skipped — not with joy, but with a mess of confusion and irritation. Why now? After all this time?
"I didn't invite anyone," he mumbled.
But his grandma looked at him with that wise, knowing smile. "Won't you say hi, at least?"
Kwon rolled his eyes and sighed, pulling on a hoodie as he headed outside.
He knocked on the car window, his arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Tae startled slightly, then rolled down the window. Their eyes met — and in that second, it felt like the world went painfully still.
"Why are you here?" Kwon asked, voice guarded.
"I… I wanted to see you," Tae said quietly.
Kwon scoffed. "Here I am. You've seen me. You can leave now."
He turned to go, but before he could take another step, Tae opened the car door and stepped out.
"Kwon, wait!" he called out.
Kwon stopped, his back still turned.
"What else do you want?" he asked, voice heavy with restrained emotion.
Tae took a slow step forward. "I'm sorry. If I've hurt you in any way… I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for the way my friend treated yours. I know it wasn't fair."
Kwon turned around slowly, walking back toward Tae with tired eyes.
"You haven't hurt me," Kwon said honestly, sniffing slightly as he took in the scent of alcohol on Tae's breath. "But I'm afraid, Tae. I'm afraid you'll end up just like him. Drunk, reckless, careless. I've seen too much of that lately."
Tae's voice trembled. "I swear, I'll never hurt you. I'm not crazy enough to do that."
"But still…" Kwon looked down at his shoes, then back up at Tae. "We can't keep going like this. I need to focus on my studies. And you… you'll be graduating soon. We're not even in the same place anymore."
"I understand…" Tae said softly, his voice like a slow bleed. "I'm sorry. If I've been a burden, if I've made things hard for you…"
He hesitated, then pulled Kwon into a tight hug — arms wrapping around him like he was afraid to let go.
"It's going to be hard for me not to hold you like this again," he whispered. "But I'll try. Just… can I at least get a kiss right now? Just one?"
Kwon looked around, shy and unsure. The street was quiet, no one in sight — except for the beating of both their hearts.
"Hm… just a peck is enough," Kwon said softly, cheeks warming. "Just one."
Tae smiled for the first time that night. A real smile — the kind that barely reached the surface of all the sadness he carried, but still felt like sunlight after rain.
He leaned in and gave Kwon a gentle peck on the lips.
But it wasn't enough.
So he kissed him again. And again.
"Tae," Kwon muttered, flustered. "We're outside… have some shame."
"Just this once," Tae said, eyes pleading. "Please… let me kiss you for real."
Before Kwon could answer, Tae gently pressed him back against the car. Kwon gasped softly but didn't resist.
"Hm… but let it be a qui—"
He didn't get to finish.
Tae kissed him — not like someone giving, but like someone starving. It was wild and deep and filled with every emotion he didn't know how to name. Kwon could taste the alcohol, yes, but beneath it was something else: longing, sincerity… and fear.
Fear of losing him.
Kwon's hands gripped the back of Tae's jacket tightly as the kiss lingered.
From inside the house, Grandma peeked from behind the curtain. She shook her head with a chuckle and whispered to herself, smiling gently.
"He's a wild one," she said, amused — but her eyes sparkled with something else.
Hope.