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A photo set of Chaeryeong and her manager goes viral. 

Taken at Incheon airport, Chaeryeong dressed head to toe in Burberry, her fiery red hair falling over her face in that artful messy way. Her manager is dressed in all black, a tight-fitting short sleeve that makes his arms bulge. 

The first photo is Chaeryeong clinging onto the arm in question, chin hooked over his shoulder. His fond smile is evident even through the mask, eyes curling up. In the second photo, he’s clearly saying something to annoy her. The smile drops off Chaeryeong’s face, she straightens up to glower at him. Anyone unlucky enough to be the recipient of a Lee Chaeryeong Glare knows how deadly it is, but her manager doesn’t fold, his eyes only twinkle mischievously. 

The third photo is taken mid-shove. Hand balled into a fist, a playful shove you’d give a close friend. In the last photo, Chaeryeong is smiling again, satisfied. Her manager clutches his arm in exaggerated pain, but the shimmer of mirth never leaves his eyes. 

Seungmin stares at the photos for longer than he’s proud of. Alone in his penthouse apartment that looks over Cheongdam-dong, he stares and scrolls and stares and scrolls. 

[+291 -17] Chaeryeong and her manager are so cute~ I’m glad she has someone she’s comfortable with. 

[+380 -45] That punch looked like it hurt…manager-nim fighting!! 💪

[+560 -70] I wonder what he said ㅋㅋㅋ

[+845 -99] Anyone else think her manager is attractive? 

It’s the last comment that sends Seungmin reeling over the edge. He slams his phone onto the coffee table. Stands. Paces the living room twice. Picks up his phone. Calls Chaeryeong. 

When the call goes through he doesn’t wait for her greeting. 

“Your roots are showing.” 

There’s a beat of silence on the other end, and then a flat, “Excuse me?” 

“In your airport previews,” Seungmin clarifies, “Your roots are showing, you need to get them touched up.” 

Chaeryeong sighs, tired but used to it, “That’s rich coming from the guy who had to get his mental breakdown dye job fixed by our poor, overworked stylists.” 

Seungmin frowns, self-consciously touching the frizzy ends of his bleached bangs. 

“What did he say?” Seungmin asks, curiosity burning. 

“Who?” 

“Changbin hyung,” Seungmin says, “In the photos. What did he say?” 

Chaeryeong sighs again. It’s amazing how much disappointment and frustration can be packed into one sigh. 

“I should’ve known that’s what this is about,” she says, “Why don’t you ask him yourself? Here, I’ll call him over. Oppa! ”

Seungmin makes a strangled noise, “Chaeryeong," he hisses into the phone, as if Changbin could hear him on the other side, “I will smite you where you stand. I don't care if it’s comeback season.”  

Cheryeong cackles loudly, Seungmin has to move the phone away from his ear. “Relax, he’s not even here. I wish I could see your face right now.” 

“You suck,” he mutters.

“ You need to stop sulking and talk to him.”

“I’m not sulking,” Seungmin defends, he lays himself flat on the couch and stares up at his high ceiling. 

“Yes, you are,” Chaeryeong scolds, “Seriously, did you even leave the house today?” 

Seungmin frowns and thinks about it. It’s 7:00 pm and he can’t name a single thing he did today. He does recall ordering kimchi jjigae for lunch. Does going downstairs to pick up delivery count as leaving the house? He’s afraid to ask. 

“Obviously,” he lies easily, “I’ve been, like, sooo busy. It would blow your mind how busy I’ve been.” Busy ignoring all his responsibilities to angrily scroll through tweets about how hot Chaeryeong’s manager is. If he sees one more comment about Changbin’s arms—

“Right,” she says dryly, “Are you so busy that you can’t meet me for brunch tomorrow? I have the morning off.” 

Seungmin hums, pretends to think about it. “I suppose I could schedule you in.”

“How gracious of you,” he can hear the smile in her voice, “Our usual place? I’ll ask oppa to make reservations.” 

“Uh,” Seungmin lets out a panicked noise before he can stop himself, “Maybe don’t tell Changbin hyung that we’re meeting.” 

“Seungmin,” Chaeryeong says, unimpressed. Which, rude. Changbin gets honorifics but he doesn’t? He’s a year older than her and her sunbae, “I’m going to a public place alone with a male idol, if I don’t tell my manager it’ll bite us both in the ass.” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes, “Please, like your fans would ever believe you’re dating a man.”

Her voice is sharp, chilling, “What was that?” 

“Nothing,” Seungmin squeaks. 

“I’m telling him,” Chaeryeong says, “See you tomorrow, Seungmin.” 

She hangs up before Seungmin can get another word in. He stares at his blank phone screen. Puts it down. And screams into his couch cushion. 

💌

Here’s the thing: Changbin was Seungmin’s manager first. 

Before Chaeryeong, before the two odd weeks where he was managing the company’s new rookie group, he was Seungmin’s. He had always been Seungmin’s. 

He’d been Seungmin’s manager since debut—baby-faced and nineteen, debuting as JYPE’s shiny new soloist. His rise to fame had come out of  nowhere, No one, especially not Seungmin, had expected his debut song to chart, to win awards, to become the new talk of the industry. Suddenly Seungmin was pushed into the limelight, picked apart by news media, hated then loved then hated again—and Changbin was there for him the entire time. 

Holding his hand when his music video first dropped, hugging him tightly after his first win, driving an extra lap around the block so Seungmin could get a few more minutes of sleep before early morning schedules. He was a constant throughout the past four years of Seungmin’s career. Through milestones and breakdowns—when he won Rookie of the Year and thanked Changbin in his speech, meeting his eyes through the backstage curtains, when Seungmin was dealing with the pressure of making his sophomore album better than his first. 

Through creative slumps, late night vocal lessons and dance practices. Changbin was always there, a constant reliable force, fighting creative directors and higher management, getting him days off and longer breaks between shoots. 

Changbin had always been in his corner. 

“I always wonder what it would be like if I debuted in a group,” Seungmin said to him one night. It was late, the two of them were lounging on Seungmin’s couch with the TV screen illuminating the room in bright colours. Seungmin had his legs tossed over Changbin’s lap, while Changbin balanced his laptop over his shins and answered emails. 

The TV played the debut stage of a new JYPE group. Jeongin’s group. Seungmin used to train with him. He was the only trainee Seungmin was close with, and back then, he thought they would debut together. But now, Jeongin was the leader of a five member group and Seungmin was a soloist. 

Changbin made an inquisitive noise, looking up from his laptop, “I thought you liked being a soloist.”

Seungmin shrugged, watching as Jeongin hugged his teammate during their ending fairy. Both of them smiling brightly, sparkles in their eyes and glitter in their hair. 

“It’s lonely,” he said, “There’s no one to share the burden with.” 

He humoured the thought every once in a while; being in a group with Jeongin. What it would be like to have someone suffering with him through early morning dance practices, someone to bounce ideas off of for album concepts and sneak out with for late night snacks. He liked having the spotlight to himself, but ached for the bond that idol groups seemed to have with each other. 

“Hey,” Changbin said softly, fingers tugging on Seungmin’s ankle, “Look at me.” 

Seungmin forced his eyes away from the screen. His vision blurred as he met Changbin’s, he didn’t realise he was tearing up. 

“We’re a team, aren’t we?” he said gently, hands soothing and warm as they rubbed Seungmin’s bare thigh. The look in his eye was open, honest, Seungmin had never been on the receiving end of that kind of care before—that kind of love. “I know I can’t sing or dance, but I’ll always do my best to shoulder some of your burden. I’ll always be here, Seungmin-ah. You’ll always have me.” 

“Yeah,” Seungmin said, watery smile, “We’re a team.” 

Changbin pulled him into his arms, Seungmin curled around him like an octopus and buried his face into his shoulder. The past few months of non-stop work had been getting to him. He barely felt like a person anymore, getting through schedules in a catatonic state. He smiled on command, sang on command, did everything while feeling wrung out and lifeless. He was starting to question if this was the life he truly wanted. But now, none of those worries seemed to matter, not when Changbin was rubbing his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. He melted into Changbin’s touch and decided that the world could hold off on exploding for tonight.

“You’ll never feel lonely again,” Changbin said, lips against the shell of his ear like a promise, “Not as long as I’m here.”

Seungmin clutched onto the words and believed him. 

Until four months ago, when Changbin quit being his manager. 

💌

After Changbin resigned as his manager, the company assigned him to a rookie boy group. They were months away from debuting and their leader couldn’t have been older than nineteen. It wasn’t hard to find out where Changbin had been reassigned, Seungmin had been at the company long enough to know which buttons to push. It was even easier to find out what the rookie group’s schedule was like. All it took was one visit from Seungmin, and a few choice words to scare them into requesting for a new manager. Admittedly, Seungmin isn’t proud of using his sunbaenim status to intimidate some poor trainees, but it was for the greater good—the greater good here being himself. 

Unfortunately for him, Changbin was then transferred to Lee Chaeryeong, Seungmin’s number one chart rival and—if you held him at gunpoint and tortured it out of him—best friend. Chaeryeong wasn’t so easily shaken by Seungmin’s constant threats, in fact, they only spurred her on to welcome Changbin with open arms and ensure he would be her manager for a long, long time. Because everyone in the world is out to get Seungmin, specifically. 

Not only had Changbin cruelly abandoned Seungmin when he needed him most, but he also left Seungmin with one of the worst managers he’s ever had the misfortune of working with.

“Rise and shine, princess,” Minho croons loudly, ripping open the curtains and letting the harsh sunlight into Seungmin’s room. 

He groans, blindly throwing a pillow in the general direction of Minho’s voice. The pillow flies back and hits him in the back of his head. Seungmin scowls, cracking his eyes open to glare at Minho. 

Minho smiles at him. It’s not a nice smile. It’s a very cruel and evil smile. “You have a recording session in half an hour.” 

“Chan hyung won’t care if I’m late,” Seungmin grumbles, burrowing himself under the covers. 

Minho rips the blankets off his body, leaving him cold and vulnerable. “I care if you’re late.” 

Seungmin whines, making a pathetic grab for the blanket, “Changbin hyung used to let me sleep in.” 

“And is your Changbin hyung in the room with us right now?”

“...No.” 

“So get your ass up.” 

Seungmin really, really hates his new manager. 

After more fussing from Minho and minimal—very minimal!—complaining from Seungmin, he’s bundled into his warmest clothes and curled up in the passenger seat of Minho’s car. He sulks, grouchy and caffeine deprived, as Minho rattles off his schedule for the day. Recording all morning, vocal lessons in the afternoon, a meeting with the creative team about the new album—

“—And your photoshoot with Chaeryeong-nim is on Friday, so get yourself prepared for that.”

Seungmin’s attention snaps back, “photoshoot?” 

Minho cuts him an extremely judgemental side eye, “Do you not check your emails?” 

Seungmin is very diligent about checking his emails, thank you very much. “The irrelevant ones go to spam.” 

“I’m literally your manager, my emails are the most relevant—” he cuts himself off with a noise of pure frustration, grip tightening on the wheel. He takes a deep inhale and tries again, “You have a shoot with Chaeryeong-nim for Harper's Bazaar, it’s to promote both your upcoming comebacks.”

Seungmin frowns, “Why?”

It’s odd, despite being a similar age and having an overlapping fanbase, they never have schedules together. Last year, Seungmin had fought tooth and nail with the company because he wanted to feature Chaeryeong on one of his songs, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Well, after the pictures from your little brunch went viral—which, by the way, thank you so much for telling me about that—” Minho says flatly, he fully takes his eyes off the road to glare at Seungmin this time, “management thought it would be a good idea to feed off the publicity a little bit, so you’re doing the shoot.” 

Seungmin huffs and sinks down into his seat. He hates photoshoots, they make him feel like a stranger in his own skin. Maybe it won’t be so bad with Chaeryeong there. 

“Oh,” Seungmin realises, sitting up a little. If Chaeryeong will be there, then so will—“Hyung is going to be there.” 

“Of course I’ll be there,” Minho says, “It’s my job to babysit your ass.” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes, “Not you. Changbin hyung.” 

He hasn’t seen Changbin in four months. Aside from his efforts of trying to get Changbin fired and hearing of him from his coworkers, it’s been mostly radio silence between the two of them since he quit. And now Seungmin has to face Changbin in front of Minho and Chaeryeong and the twenty-or-so strangers working for Harper's Bazaar? The thought of it alone makes his stomach coil. 

“Tell them I can’t do it.” 

Minho makes a sharp turn at the intersection, a car honks at him and he honks back for longer. 

“Kim Seungmin,” he says, voice deadly, “We’re already running late, don’t make me pull this car over.” 

Seungmin stands his ground, “I can’t face him, especially not in such a public setting.” 

Minho sighs, “Seungmin—” 

“He left me, hyung,” Seungmin says, sounding a little pathetic, but Changbin has always made him feel that way, “Am I supposed to just get over that?” 

“No,” Minho says, “But you can’t avoid work because of him. Since when are you the type to let a boy get in the way of your career?” 

Seungmin sniffs, makes himself smaller in his seat. He bites down the urge to reply with something like, how would you know what I’m like?

Minho sighs when he doesn’t reply, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and your hyung, but you’ve been really distracted lately. I know you’re not sleeping, and you’ve barely written any new songs. Maybe it’ll be good to talk to him.” 

Seungmin feels like melding himself into the car seat, hating how easy it is for Minho to read him, despite barely knowing him. “Whatever.” 

“And the shoot is non-negotiable,” Minho tacks on. 

He sighs, turning his head to look out the window. They’re nearing the studio where Chan works, a humble little space a few blocks away from the JYPE company building. There’s a McDonald’s close by. He perks up slightly. 

“Can we get McDonald’s?” 

“No.”

Seungmin pouts, “Changbin hyung would’ve let me—” 

Minho groans, cutting him off by reaching into the backseat and pulling out a lunchbox, “Unlike your Changbin hyung , I don’t want you to get heartburn before you’re thirty. Here, breakfast.” 

Seungmin makes an oomph sound when the box gets shoved into his chest. He opens it to find rice, meat, spinach and a fried egg. The sausages are cut into star shapes, like Minho was preparing this for a kid. Something in Seungmin softens a little, he pops one of the sausages into his mouth. 

Maybe he doesn’t completely hate his new manager. 

💌

Changbin was always the only person willing to put up with Seungmin. Most people wrote his bad attitude off as being an idol—spoiled rotten, a diva, a bratty soloist who didn’t know how to work with other people. But Changbin was always patient with him. He took Seungmin’s moodiness with a smile, giggled at his snippy remarks and found his general unpleasantness adorable. It usually spurred on Seungmin’s rage more, especially when Changbin cooed at him after an angry rant.

Secretly, Seungmin loved it. He loved that he could spill the worst version of himself onto the floorboards of their waiting room and Changbin would still smile and offer to clean it up. Secretly, he liked seeing how far he could go. He liked pushing buttons and seeing which ones made Changbin explode. 

Secretly, he thought Changbin was cute when he was mad too. 

“You’ve never even watched a football game!” Changbin huffed, the vein in his neck popping out like it did whenever he was particularly vexed about something, “You can’t say baseball is better than football if you’ve only ever seen baseball games. That’s such a baseless argument.” 

Seungmin smiled at himself in the mirror. He was getting his makeup done while Changbin was sitting in the chair next to him, watching football highlights on his phone. Naturally, he had to comment on it. 

“I can say whatever I want,” Seungmin shot back, instigating just to instigate. He still had half an hour until he was due for his stage and needed to kill time somehow, “Football is boring and no one cares about it.” 

“ You haven’t even— ” Changbin cut himself off with an angry sound, Seungmin shared a secret smile with the makeup artist applying blush to his cheeks. He loved when Changbin got explosive like this, it was usually over silly things like sports and who deserved the last slice of pizza. Changbin never got seriously upset with him. “Just because you don’t care about football doesn’t mean no one cares about it. A lot of people care about football!” 

“I’m sure they do, hyung,” Seungmin said, a touch condescending, “Baseball is still the better sport.” 

“You can’t say that until you watch a football game.” 

He turned to Changbin and raised an eyebrow, “Take me to one then.” 

Changbin paused, expression stuttering, “What?” 

Seungmin smiled, the same charming smile he gave the makeup noonas when they had to cover up his hickies and stage directors when he wanted a few extra minutes alone, “Prove me wrong, hyung. Take me to a football game.” 

A blush rose up Changbin’s neck, stumbling a bit before finding his words again. Seungmin’s smile grew, it wasn’t often that he had the upper hand on Changbin. This was a nice change of pace. 

“Hyung will take you to a football game,” Changbin said fiercely, “Just to prove you wrong.” 

Seungmin shrugged, “Sure, and then I can take you to a baseball game and show you what a real sport looks like.” 

Changbin scoffed, coming back to himself, “It’s a deal.” 

Seungmin winked, “It’s a date.” 

Changbin burned brighter, flush crawling up his cheeks now. He coughed awkwardly and looked back at his phone. Seungmin turned back to the makeup artist, pleased with himself. 

💌

[screenshot taken 04 May 2023]

me:

Hey, you’re back in Seoul?

flour boy 🥟💘:

seungminnie!! 💛💛💛

yes, I am!! just for the weekend

me:

Wanna come over? 

I have a bottle of Prosecco with your name on it x

flour boy 🥟💘:

no way lol

last time we had sex you cried bc your manager left you

babe i love you but i’m not putting myself through that again

me:

boo you whore.

[read: 1:12am]

💌

It’s the morning of the Harper's Bazaar shoot and Seungmin is not enjoying himself. His clothes are too itchy, his makeup is too heavy and he had to wake up obscenely early and skip breakfast to make it to the shoot. It takes everything in him not to fall asleep in the makeup chair while the artist painstakingly adds rhinestones to his cheeks and glitter to his hair. 

When he’s finished with hair and makeup, Chaeryeong approaches him with a coffee.

“Can you believe it?” she demands, with way too much energy for this early in the morning, “We’re finally allowed to appear on cameras together and it’s to straight-bait for some bullshit magazine.” 

Seungmin snorts, hands curling around the iced americano to cool himself down. “At least it’s something. Maybe this means we won’t get shut down next time we pitch for a song together.” 

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, “I highly doubt it.” 

She looks stunning, wearing a black dress with white ruffles bunching around the skirt. It contrasts the white ruffled shirt Seungmin feels like he’s been stuffed into. Rhinestones decorate her eyelids to match Seungmin. He tugs on a lock of her hair, “You got your roots done.” 

She shoves him hard in the shoulder and says, “Fuck you. Let's go.” 

He takes a long sip of his coffee and lets it sink to the bottom of his stomach, before following her to the studio. White walls and bright lights, thirty or so staff members running around and the first person he notices is Changbin. 

He’s talking to a girl Seungmin doesn’t recognise. She’s laughing at something he’s saying, her hand grabs onto Changbin’s arm to steady herself. Changbin’s laughing too. She’s pretty. Seungmin narrows his eyes. 

Maybe Changbin can sense he’s being watched, or, maybe his eyes also search for Seungmin first in a crowded room, because he looks up and immediately meets Seungmin’s stare. His heartbeat stutters, both at being caught and at the feeling of being looked at by Changbin for the first time in months. He looks good. Fluffy hair and his achingly warm smile, thick-framed glasses perched on top nose. His arms look like they’ve gotten bigger—have they gotten bigger? 

Changbin juts his hand out in an awkward wave, lips pulled to an uncertain smile. Seungmin’s ribs crack open and his heart spills out like egg yolk. He glares back and turns to Chaeryeong. 

“Who is that?” he asks.

“Huh?” she replies distractedly, “Who?” 

“The girl talking to Changbin hyung, who is she?” 

She looks out in their direction and frowns, “No idea, she must be one of the magazine staff.” 

Seungmin glowers, “Right.” 

“Hey,” Chaeryeong says sternly, grabbing him by the shoulders, “Changbin oppa being here isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” 

“Of course not,” Seungmin replies, like a liar. 

She regards him flatly, “Just ignore him, okay? You’re here to do your job. No distractions.”

Seungmin nods once and agrees, “No distractions.” 

They’re halfway through the shoot and Seungmin is incredibly distracted. 

He can see Changbin from the corner of his eye. He’s still talking to that same girl from earlier. Nonstop. Throughout the entire shoot. Seriously, doesn’t he have a job to do? Why isn’t he watching over Chaeryeong? What if she storms out in the middle of the shoot or slips and twists her ankle? Changbin is her manager, he should be managing and not flirting. 

(Nevermind that Seungmin’s own manager has been napping in a plastic chair since the shoot began.)

“Chaeryeong-ssi, could you put your head on Seungmin-ssi’s shoulder?” the photographer asks, “Perfect, just like that! You guys look fantastic. Seungmin-ssi, could we get your head on her shoulder next?” 

A loud laugh carries through the room, loud enough to be heard over the music and shuttering cameras. Seungmin’s head snaps towards it like a dog to a squirrel. It’s Changbin’s laugh. He knows Changbin’s laugh. He’s spent too many late nights and early mornings with Changbin where his laugh was the only thing Seungmin could stand to hear. 

“Uh…Seungmin-ssi?”

His head snaps back to the photographer, who is watching him with concern. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Huh? Oh, yes. Sorry.” He ducks his head in apology, “Can we take a break? I’m feeling a little stuffy.” 

“Yes, of course,” she says, waving someone over, “We can get you some water.” 

“Thank you.” 

Chaeryeong is watching him with a pinched expression. She waits until the photographer walks away to ask, “You doing okay?” 

“Hm?” Seungmin hums distractedly. The photographer is walking towards Changbin and the girl, pulling her off to the side, “Yeah, I’m good, why?” 

“Well, for one you’ve got this crazy look in your eye right now—” 

The girl and the photographer walk away, leaving Changbin alone. Perfect, this is his chance. He stands and marches right up to Changbin. 

“She’s pretty.” 

Changbin startles, looking up from his phone with wide eyes, “Seungmin, hey! How’s it going—” 

“She doesn’t seem like your type,” Seungmin says, mouth running before his brain can stop him, “But she’s pretty.” 

Changbin blinks, “What?”

“The girl you were talking to.” 

“Jimin-ssi?” 

Seungmin shrugs, “If that’s her name, sure.” 

“Aren’t you in the middle of a shoot?” 

“We’re taking a break,” Seungmin says, “And I thought I’d use my precious free time to inform you that you should focus on doing your job.”

Changbin frowns, “I am doing my job.” 

“Oh?” Seungmin asks, tilting his head, “I didn’t realise flirting with the staff was part of your job description.”

Something passes over Changbin’s expression, annoyance, maybe? Offence? Either way, it spurs Seungmin on. 

“You’re supposed to be watching Chaeryeong, what if she needed something?”

He looks past Seungmin, to where Chaeryeong is still sitting on the floor, listlessly inspecting her nails. She looks up when she notices the attention on her and gives both of them a dry wave. 

“She seems fine to me,” Changbin says flatly. 

“How would you know?” Seungmin says, “You weren’t even watching the shoot.” 

Changbin sighs, “Seungminnie, do you want to go somewhere else and talk?”

Yes, Seungmin thinks desperately, every nerve in his body missing Changbin despite him being right within his reach. He wants to ditch the shoot with him, spend the rest of the afternoon talking, wants to bury into his skin like a termite and make sure Changbin never leaves him again. 

“We’re on a time crunch,” he says instead, “And my break is almost over, I shouldn’t keep everyone waiting.” 

Changbin’s eyebrows furrow, “But—” 

“See you around, hyung,” he turns on his heel and walks off. 

The shoot doesn’t restart until five minutes later. He doesn’t spare a glance Changbin’s way for the rest of the day. 

💌

Seungmin’s life ended on New Year’s eve. 

It fell on a random Thursday last year, and Seungmin’s schedule didn’t end until an hour before midnight. An award show. Three nominations and zero wins. A year full of sacrifices, sweat and (mostly) tears and all he had to show was a disappointed head shake from his team leader. He was exhausted, burnt out, and he could only take so much socialising with other idols until he was hiding in a bathroom stall with Hyunjin and taking shots out of the flask he brought. 

By the time it was time for Changbin to take him home, Seungmin was stumbling on his feet and flushed in his face. 

“Hyung,” he whined as Changbin guided him towards the car. He had to drive it around the back of the venue when he realised Seungmin was drunk, so the fans out front wouldn’t see him stumbling out. Because he was a good manager like that. Thoughtful. Handsome, too. “Don’t wanna go home.” 

“You have to, Seungminnie,” Changbin said, gentle hands pushing Seungmin into the passenger’s seat, “Your bed is waiting for you at home.”

“Not tired,” Seungmin insisted as Changbin reached over to buckle his seatbelt. He was warm against Seungmin, burning like a furnace. He wondered what it would be like to feel that skin on his. “Want to keep partying.” 

Changbin snorted, “You’ve been on your feet since 5 this morning, I think you’re done partying.” 

Seungmin pouted. Changbin shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. Seungmin fiddled with his tie, loosening it and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. His clothes were uncomfortable, everything was too hot. 

Changbin blinked when he entered the car, “Why are you undressing?” 

“Too stuffy,” Seungmin mumbled.

Changbin chuckled, “You’re such a baby when you’re drunk. Here, hyung will take care of you.”

His hands were warm as they helped Seungmin out of his jacket. He leaned back in the seat, eyes fluttering shut with the comfort, the warmth, the feeling of Changbin’s hands against him. He could get used to it. 

Then, the warmth was gone and Changbin was starting the car. His hand darted out and grabbed Changbin’s arm in panic. 

“No,” he said, insistent, eyebrows furrowing, “I’m not going home.”

“Why not?” Changbin asked, patient, trying to understand. He never sighed tiredly at Seungmin, never rolled his eyes and chalked his difficult nature off as idols being idols. 

“My apartment is too empty,” Seungmin mumbled, “Too quiet. I hate it. Take me somewhere else, hyung.”

He met Changbin’s eyes, shining brightly in the dark. Sympathetic, understanding, but never pitying. He could trust Changbin. He always had. 

“Okay, Seungminnie,” he agreed easily, “Let’s go somewhere else until you sober up.” 

He zoned in and out during the drive. Changbin kept the window cracked open despite the chill, the cool air was soothing against his flushed skin, it helped him sober up. Just the slightest bit. Changbin drove until they were completely out of the city, to a random suburb Seungmin didn’t recognise. He parked at the side of the road, under a flickering street light. Seungmin already felt much calmer.

“Thanks,” he breathed out, “For listening and not taking me home.” 

He knew he demanded much more from Changbin than a normal manager would take. Jeongin sometimes gave him strange looks when Seungmin offhandedly mentioned their late night drives and shared meals.

“No worries, Seungminnie,” Changbin said. 

He tilted his head towards Changbin, the street light painting shadows across his face. He wondered what Changbin was doing here. Why he cared so much. 

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather be spending tonight with?” he asked, “Family?” 

Changbin shrugged, “I’ll see them tomorrow.” 

“You’re not on the clock,” Seungmin pointed out, “You didn’t have to do this.” 

“I wanted to,” Changbin insisted, a stubborn little furrow set to his eyebrow, “And I didn’t want you to spend the new year alone.” 

Seungmin scoffed, suddenly on the defensive. His brain still felt foggy, he was still feeling the melancholy from his loss tonight. ‘ It’s an honour to be nominated’ he had told anyone who asked—what bullshit. If he didn’t win, he was nothing. 

“I don’t need your pity, hyung,” he said. 

Changbin’s frown deepened, “It’s not pity. I care about you, Seungminnie.”

Seungmin crossed his arms and sunk into his seat. He looked out at the glistening river, the city lights blinking on the other side and mumbled, “That’s worse.” 

Changbin made a confused noise. 

“Hey,” he said, hand on Seungmin’s thigh, grounding him to the moment he’s desperately trying to escape, “Seungminnie, please look at me.” 

Because Seungmin was drunk and stupid and a little bit lovesick, he did. 

“What?” he asked cuttingly. 

“Why is that worse?” 

Drunk, stupid, lovesick: “Because I like you, hyung.” 

Changbin blinked, clearly not expecting that, “Oh.” 

“I probably even love you.” 

He moved his hand from Seungmin’s thigh, and suddenly it felt like they were oceans apart. 

“Hyung?” his eyes searched Changbin’s and found a plethora of emotions he couldn’t read. He bit his tongue. He shouldn’t have said anything. 

“You’ve been drinking, Seungminnie,” Changbin said carefully, “And you’re sad.” 

“I still mean what I said.” 

Changbin shook his head, “But I’m—you’re—Seungmin, I’m your manager. I work for you.” 

Seungmin frowned, “So?” 

“That means we can’t—” he cut himself off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He’d never seen Changbin at a loss for words before. Not like this. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?” 

“When?” 

“When you’re sober,” Changbin said gently. He reached over and squeezed Seungmin’s thigh, it was probably meant to be reassuring—but it just felt like pity. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.” 

Seungmin didn’t want to go home, but he didn’t say anything. He just sat quietly while Changbin started the car, keeping his eyes trained out the window on the entire ride home. 

Changbin helped him up to his apartment, and only left when he made sure Seungmin got plenty of water in him and was tucked into bed. 

Three days later, Changbin handed in his resignation letter. 

💌

As comeback preparation picks up, it’s easy for Seungmin to lose himself in it. He starts becoming more machine than person, falling into the rhythm of schedules, checking out of himself and letting his mind run on autopilot. It was easier to work that way, otherwise, he gets too into his head and everything becomes overwhelming. And when he’s overwhelmed, he shuts down. 

And he’s no use to anyone if he shuts down. 

Seungmin jolts awake when something cold and wet touches his face. He squints up at the offender, finding Minho looming over him like a bad omen, iced americano in hand. 

“You look like shit,” he says, unimpressed, “Did you sleep here?”

Seungmin frowns, disoriented, and takes in his surroundings. He’s on the vocal room couch, blanketed by sheets of paper that crinkle as he moves. There’s a painful crick in his neck, his shoulders are stiff. He sits up and, yep—that’s a pencil poking his thigh. 

“‘Whattimeisit?” he croaks out.

“Eight,” Minho says, “I went by your place to pick you up but you weren’t there so I figured I’d find you here.” 

Seungmin yawns, rubbing his eye, “Practice ran late and I didn’t want to go home just to come back in the morning anyway.” 

Minho gives him a disapproving look, “How late?” 

Seungmin swallows nervously, it won’t bode well for him if he lies to Minho. It also won’t bode well if he’s honest. Working with Minho is a constant stream of lose-lose situations. “I finished around five-thirty, maybe six.”

Minho’s scowl deepens, irritation clouding his features—which Seungmin has come to learn it’s more out of concern than actual irritation. Still, he’s sensing an incoming lecture and he’s not looking forward to it. 

“Why would you pull an all-nighter when you know you have a day full of schedules?” Minho demands, “Did you even eat dinner last night?” 

Seungmin shrinks into himself, “Yes.” 

Minho gives him a long, hard stare.

“Fine, no I didn’t,” he admits shamefully. 

“This isn't healthy,” Minho says.

“I know.” 

“If you keep going like this you’ll burn out.”

“Then maybe they’ll finally give me a break,” Seungmin says flatly, “Or better yet, just fire me and I can be free forever.” 

Minho falls quiet, lips pressing into a thin line. Seungmin sees it, the worry casting over his features, the way his anger dies and gives way for sympathy. 

“I brought you breakfast,” he says, “Eat and then try to get some more sleep. I’ll make some calls and push your meeting to later.” 

Seungmin smiles, grateful, “Thanks, hyung.” 

“Don’t thank me for doing my job,” Minho says, “Just take care of yourself, okay?” 

Seungmin shrugs and busies himself with opening Minho’s lunchbox. He won’t make any promises he knows he can’t keep. 

💌

[screenshot taken 11 Jan 2023]

binnie hyung 🖤:  

seungminnie 

can we please talk?

i know you’re upset but i can explain

lets get lunch at that seolleongtang place you like?

hyung will pay 🤗

THIS NUMBER HAS BEEN BLOCKED

💌

Midnight finds Seungmin sitting alone on his balcony. It’s too windy to be up here, but the night is quiet and the city lights twinkle like stars. He’s writing. Or at least trying to. It’s been a while since he’s written a song that he’s actually proud of. These days, he just submits a couple lines of lyrics and lets Chan work his magic. 

But tonight, he’s determined to write. He’s got his guitar in his lap and a notebook full of feelings.

His stomach growls halfway through the session. Minho dropped off dinner earlier and made Seungmin promise not to skip dinner. ‘ Promise’ is putting it lightly, he threatened to replace all of Seungmin’s coffees with decaf and he wasn’t going to risk something that serious. Midnight is still dinner time, right?

He heats up his food and curls up on his balcony chair. It’s been months since Changbin quit and he still isn’t used to eating alone. They used to eat every meal together. Even if Changbin wasn’t eating, he’d sit with Seungmin. Now, he can’t eat without missing Changbin. 

He pulls his phone out. He blocked Changbin’s number a long time ago, but finds himself scrolling through his blocked contacts list more than he’s proud of. He finds Changbin’s number again, having it memorised by now, and unblocks him. 

Changbin’s contact pops up. The photo is from years ago—a close up of Changbin’s face, cheeks painted with blue and white lines, the colours from Seungmin’s first album. He had shown up to Seungmin’s comeback showcase with his face painted like he was going to a sports game. Seungmin laughed at him and took a hundred photos and felt lighter than he had felt that entire comeback season.

He stares at the photo now. 

Before he can even think twice, he’s video-calling him. 

“Shit,” Seungmin mutters, scrambling up on his seat, “ Shit, shit, shit—”

“Seungmin?” Changbin is on his screen. Sleep ruffled, curly hair, puffy eyes squinting at his screen. He looks beautiful. Seungmin aches and aches and aches—

“Hyung,” he breathes out, “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay,” he croaks, scrambling to sit up. He leans against his headboard and reaches to turn on the lamp, “Is everything okay? Why are you calling so late? Did something happen?” 

Seungmin’s cheeks warm. Suddenly embarrassed. Why did he call? Nothing is wrong, everything is wrong. He misses his hyung. 

“I’m eating dinner,” he says. 

Changbin blinks, “Now?” 

Seungmin shrugs, he leans his phone against his water bottle so Changbin can see him and the bowl of kimchi jiggae on the table. “I wasn’t hungry earlier but Minho hyung made me food and it looked too good to waste.” 

Changbin smiles sleepily, “It sounds like Minho hyung is taking good care of you.”

Seungmin shrugs again, “He’s alright.” 

He picks up his spoon and starts eating. Seungmin is so used to dieting that during off-season swallowing each bite takes all the effort he can muster. So he’s learned how to eat slowly. Let himself enjoy the meal in front of him. Silence falls over the call as he eats, filling up with wind, and chewing and the perpetual hum of a busy city. Changbin doesn’t say anything, he just blinks slowly and looks like he’s trying to keep himself awake. 

“Seungmin-ah,” Changbin says after a while, voice slow and syrupy.

Seungmin is almost done with his meal, “Yeah, hyung?” 

“Why’d you call?”

Seungmin swallows thickly, his food goes down like tar, “I don’t like eating alone.” 

Changbin’s entire face crumples, “Oh.” 

“Will you stay, hyung?” Seungmin asks suddenly, desperation bleeding into every word, “Just until I finish eating?” 

“Of course, Seungmin-ah,” Changbin says gently. 

He stays until Seungmin finishes his meal. Just as Seungmin is scraping the bottom of the bowl, he hears a quiet snore and realises Changbin fell asleep. Upright, lamp still switched on, he falls asleep with his chin tucked into his chest. It’s achingly reminiscent of when he’d fall asleep in his chair during Seungmin’s early morning schedules. Seungmin freezes in his spot, unable to do anything but watch.

He stays on call for an extra half-hour. Changbin shifts in his sleep and Seungmin jolts, coming back to himself and hanging up with a bright red flush.

💌

Two weeks after Changbin quit, Seungmin ran into him in the elevator. He stopped short when he walked inside, belatedly registering that it was Changbin leaning against the wall and typing something away on his phone. Seungmin turned on his heel to try and make a break for it, but the universe loved to play cruel tricks on him and the elevator doors slid shut before his very eyes. 

Seungmin sighed. He turned back around to find Changbin staring at him, smiling nervously.

“Hi Seungminnie,” 

Seungmin ignored him, moving to the opposite corner of the elevator.

“How have you been?” 

“Fine,” he replied shortly. 

He pulled his phone out and lowered the brightness before opening Chess.

“I tried texting you,” Changbin said, “And calling–” 

“I blocked your number,” Seungmin informed him. 

A beat of silence. 

“Oh.” 

Seungmin’s hands were starting to shake, knuckles turning white as he gripped his phone. This was the longest elevator ride of his entire life. He watched the floor numbers grow on the elevator screen with a life-dooming sense of anxiety. 

“I know you’re mad at me,” Changbin began again, in that tone he always used when talking Seungmin off a ledge, “But I can explain, if you would just hear me out—” 

The elevator doors pinged open and Seungmin could breathe again. He inhaled shakily, before turning his coldest glare on Changbin. 

“Hyung,” he said, coming out more broken than he hoped, “I’m already humiliated enough as it is, okay? I don’t need you rubbing salt in the wound. Just— please— leave me the fuck alone.”

Hurt flashed across Changbin’s face, his entire being curling backward like Seungmin had taken a physical swing at him. He forced himself to look at Changbin, watch the pain and heartbreak swirl for a guilty second, before storming out of the elevator. 

He got off at the wrong floor. 

💌

[screenshot taken 13 June 2023]

me:

Hey, are you free rn?

flour boy 🥟💘 :

Seungmin-ssi….

me: 

I promise this is not a booty call lol

I just need advice

flour boy 🥟💘 :

then yes im free

what's up?

seungmin is typing…

seungmin is typing…

seungmin is typing…

flour boy 🥟💘 :

seungminnie?

me: 

How do I get over a broken heart?

flour boy 🥟💘 :

oh honey :(

your manager?

me:

is it that obvious?

flour boy 🥟💘 :

a little

me: 

He rejected me on New Years

I love him so much and idk how to stop

I just feel so pathetic. 

flour boy 🥟💘 :

you’re not.

healing takes time, be easier on yourself

me:

easier said than done lol

flour boy 🥟💘 :

i don’t have an answer to your question but i have a temporary fix

Booze. Lots of it. 

💌

Hyunjin invites Seungmin and about ten of his closest model friends out to a club in Hongdae—where apparently, his boyfriend is DJ-ing. 

(“ Boyfriend?” Seungmin asked during pre-drinks, eyes wide.

He waved Seungmin off, “Don’t worry, it’s recent and he knows about the two of us.” 

“How long has it been?”

“Three days,” Hyunjun replied, rosy-cheeked and wistful, “I think I’m in love.”)

The strobe lights are too blinding and the music is too loud, but Seungmin has enough shots to drown everything out. The only person he knows is Felix, so he sticks by his side the entire night. Felix introduces him to Yeji who introduces him to Jisung, Hyunjin’s DJ boyfriend who showed up to his set in a hoodie and pimple patches littered across his forehead. He dances with Felix and listens intently when Yeji angrily rants about her girl problems. He lets Hyunjin feed him shot after shot and rolls his eyes when he messily makes out with Jisung in front of him. He’s having fun, he’s letting loose, and he’s not thinking about Changbin. 

Definitely not. 

“Wait, so he didn’t say anything? He just quit?” 

“Yep,” Seungmin says miserably, squatting on the grimy floor of the club bathroom. Yeji sits on top of the closed toilet seat, smoking a blunt that’s been pushed from pocket to pocket. She offers it to Seungmin, but his entire career flashes before his eyes and he declines. “He didn’t even warn me about it. I found out through a fucking email.” 

“That sucks,” Yeji says, “Did you talk to him about it?” 

“No,” Seungmin says, dropping his head back against the stall. His head feels heavier than usual. “I did try to get him fired, though.” 

Her eyes widen, “Seriously?” 

Seungmin nods, it makes him dizzy. “Didn’t work. He’s managing my best friend now, so I see him everywhere.”

Yeji offers him a sympathetic pat on the head, “Your life sucks.” 

Seungmin sighs, “Tell me about it. He used to be the best part about coming to work. Now I’m just miserable all the time.” 

“Seungminnie,” Yeji says, crouching down on the floor next to him. Her eyes glint with the sincerity and wisdom of someone crossed out of their mind in a club bathroom, “You should call him and tell him that.” 

Seungmin blinks. 

“Yeji,” he says slowly, “You’re a fucking genius.” 

She cackles as he searches his pockets for his phone. He frowns, oh, right—

“Hyunjin took my phone,” he says, pouting, “He knows me too well.”

“He’s a wet blanket,” Yeji says, reaching into her own pocket, and Seungmin is starting to suspect that she’s only here to cause problems and nothing else. They need to hang out more often. “Here, use my phone.” 

“Yeji, you’re my hero,” he slurs out, already typing Changbin’s number into her phone, “We should get brunch.” 

“Get your boyfriend back first,” she says, pushing up to her feet. She ruffles his hair and says, “Let me know how it goes,” before leaving him alone in the stall to his bad decisions. 

He settles himself onto the sticky bathroom floor, stretching his legs until the tips of his shoes peek under the other stall, and hits call. 

It takes a few rings until Changbin is answering, “Hello, Seo Changbin speaking.”

Seungmin giggles at the formality, “Hi hyung.”

“Seungmin?” his voice colours with surprise, “Where are you calling me from?” 

“A club,” he says, then giggles again, “Yeji gave me her phone.” 

“Have you been drinking?” he asks. His sounds concerned, worried, it burns right down to Seungmin’s gut. Fills him with a sick sort of glee he hasn’t felt in months. Changbin still cares, Changbin still worries.

“A little,” he says, then burps, “A lot.” 

“Are you safe?” 

“No,” Seungmin says sulkily, “I’m alone and sad and I miss you.” 

Changbin makes a stressed noise, “Where are you?” 

“I told you, a club.” 

“ Which club, Seungminnie?” He sounds so distressed, “Do you need someone to come get you?”

“Yes,” Seungmin says eagerly, “Come pick me up, hyung. Please?”

He hears Changbin hesitate, “That doesn’t seem like a good idea. I can get Minho-ssi to pick you up.”

“ No,” Seungmin whines, “If I wanted him I would’ve called him, I want you, hyung.”

“Seungmin—” 

“I’m not leaving with anyone else,” he says firmly. 

“You are so—” stubborn, spoiled, entitled, Seungmin waits to hear it but Changbin just lets out a slow breath and says, “Fine. Send me your location, I’ll be there soon.” 

He hangs up before Seungmin can answer. And he’s left sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at a blank screen. 

He returns the phone to Yeji, says goodbye to Hyunjin and finds Changbin waiting for him across the street from the club. He’s standing against the car, arms crossed and foot tapping as he waits. Seungmin is dizzy and warm and stumbles in his haste to reach Changbin. 

“Hyung!” he greets cheerily, throwing his arms up to hug him. Changbin steadies him with a hand on his waist, but doesn’t hold him. “You came!” 

“Get in the car, Seungmin,” he says, tone clipped. 

Seungmin frowns. He sounds upset. Is he upset? He tries to remember what he did to upset Changbin but thinking makes his brain hurt. 

“Did I—” 

“If someone sees you like this, you’re fucked,” Changbin grits out, “Get in the car. Now.” 

Seungmin blinks, unused to the harshness in his tone. Changbin has never spoken to him like that. No matter how annoying and demanding Seungmin can get, he’s only ever handled him with care.

He blinks back tears and says, “Um. Okay.” 

Changbin opens the backseat door for him, and Seungmin all but falls into the seat. He lets Changbin fasten his seatbelt for him, a sense of deja-vu washing over him. His touch is gentle, despite the tense set of his jaw. He smooths down Seungmin’s ruffled clothes, brushes his hair out of his eyes. He’s even careful when he shuts the door, but Seungmin flinches anyway. 

He settles into the driver’s seat and doesn’t start the engine. He sits and waits, letting the silence build thick and heavy between them. Seungmin meets his gaze in the rear view mirror. 

“You’re mad at me.” 

This sets Changbin off.

“Of course I’m mad at you!” Changbin snaps, “You call me to come pick you up from some shady looking club, drunk off your ass and reeking of weed—” 

“I didn’t take anything,” Seungmim mumbles, petulant. 

“—I know you’re not stupid, I know you’re not careless. Are you being self-destructive on purpose? Are you trying to prove a point? Your comeback is in two weeks, if someone saw you or took photos of you—” 

“Are you fucking serious, hyung?” Seungmin snaps, “You’re mad at me because of work?”

Changbin blinks, confusion briefly replacing his anger. God, he has no idea. Seungmin is going to break something. 

“I don’t give a fuck about work,” Seungmin exclaims, “I don’t give a single fuck if photos leak and my album flops. They can kick me out of the fucking company! I don’t give a shit! Hyung, you broke my heart. I care that you hurt me. I care that you hate me.” 

His voice breaks and the tears flood out. He’s hit with the full force of everything. Paralysed by the anger and sadness he’s been building up for months— and he can’t do anything but sob like a fucking baby. 

“Seungminnie,” Changbin begins quietly, turning in his seat to face Seungmin. He reaches for him but Seungmin flinches away. He curls into himself, embarrassed and hurt, pressing his palms into his eyes. “Seungminnie, please look at me. Please look at hyung?” 

Seungmin shakes his head. Sobs wrack his entire body, he trembles with it. He needs to get himself under control. 

“Seungminnie,” fingers curl around his wrists, gently prying his hands away from his face, “Look at me, baby, you need to breathe.” 

He tries, he’s trying—

“I don’t hate you,” Changbin says, he seems almost desperate for Seungmin to understand him, grip tightening around his wrists, “How could anyone hate you? You’re so lovely, Seungminnie. Of course I don’t hate you. I love you.”

This hits Seungmin like a bucket of ice.

“What?” he demands shrilly, “You fucking what? ” 

Changbin’s eyes widen, as if just registering what he said. Then he ducks his head, cheeks rosy and smile bashful, “Um…yeah. I didn’t want to tell you like that, but. Yeah.” 

“You love me?” Seungmin snaps, voice croaky and wet, he tears his hands out of Changbin’s grip, “Hyung, you left me.” 

“Management can’t date the talent, Seungmin,” Changbin says, “It’s against company policy. I would’ve gotten fired if anyone found out. I quit so we could be together.” 

Seungmin blinks. And blinks again. His head and heart pound in tandem, there’s no way he’s hearing this correctly. 

“What?” he asks, completely perplexed. He frantically wipes his face with the sleeves of his hoodie until his skin is raw. Tries to get his breathing under control. Breathe in. Breathe out. This is normal. This is fine. Changbin has been in love with him this whole time?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he demands. 

“You wouldn’t let me!” Changbin says exasperatedly, “I tried, Seungmin. I tried so many times, but you wouldn’t talk to me!” 

Seungmin deflates back into the car seat. Oh right, he did do that. He still feels dizzy. The entire world shifts on its axis. Maybe he’s still drunk, maybe he inhaled too much smoke. Maybe Changbin isn’t really here and he’s having this conversation with an extremely animated brick wall. 

“You should’ve told me on new year’s,” he says quietly. 

“You were drunk,” Changbin says, he’s leaning so far out of his seat that it looks uncomfortable, the centre console digs into his stomach. 

“I’m drunk now,” Seungmin points out. 

Changbin shrugs, “I was afraid you wouldn’t remember, or, I don’t know, that you’d wake up the next morning and regret what you said.” 

“I didn’t—I wouldn’t,” Seungmin sniffs, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He must look awful right now. Swollen eyes and red in the face. Drunk and snotty and curled up in the back of Changbin’s car. But he’s determined, he reaches out and pushes Changbin back. “Let me get in the front seat.” 

Changbin frowns, “Go out through the door—hey, stop—no—do not put your shoes on my seats you gremlin—”

He clumsily manages to squeeze into the front seat, leaving a few shoe prints in his wake and only bumping his head on the roof once. He settles down, lets the dizzy spell pass, and fixes Changbin with a determined look. 

“I’m really sorry.” 

Changbin’s eyes widen, mouth parting in shock. He seems frozen. 

Seungmin frowns self-consciously, “What?” 

His mouth snaps shut, “Nothing, I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologise for anything in your life.” 

Seungmin scoffs, offended, “Will you shut up and let me finish?” 

Changbin giggles adorably, Seungmin can’t even pretend to stay mad at him. He reaches out to hold Seungmin’s hand and says, “Go on.”

“I’m sorry for acting like such a dick. For blocking your number. For assuming the worst and refusing to listen to your side of the story. Oh, and for threatening those rookies you were managing.”

“You what?” 

“And I’m also—I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused when you were my manager. That couldn’t have been easy to deal with.”

“Seungminnie,” Changbin says, taking his face in his hands. He wipes the tears from Seungmin’s cheeks, “You were never trouble. Not to me.” 

Seungmin sniffs, heart feeling warm and full and god—he could’ve been feeling like this much earlier. , “I’m so stupid.” 

“So am I,” Changbin says, “You’re right, I should’ve said something on New Year’s. It would’ve saved all this drama.” 

“It’s okay,” Seungmin says, “I’m an idol, drama is kind of my whole thing.” 

Changbin laughs, fond and sparkling, “Can I kiss you, Seungminnie?” 

Seungmin wipes his nose again and answers, “I’m really gross right now.”

Changbin runs a thumb along his cheek, “You’re still beautiful.” 

Seungmin blushes. “You’re stupid,” he says, and then kisses Changbin. 

And finally, finally— the pounding in his head stops. Everything stops, all the noise that’s been getting louder and louder since the day Changbin left him. And all Seungmin can hear is the quiet. All he can feel is peace. 

Changbin smiles against his lips and Seungmin loves that he can taste it. He pulls back and whispers, “I want to remember this. Will you kiss me again tomorrow morning?”

Changbin kisses his nose, and then both his cheeks, “I’ll kiss you every day until you get tired of it.” 

Seungmin giggles and thinks: I’ll never get tired of this. 

💌

A picture of Seungmin and a JYPE staff member goes viral. 

Taken outside a convenience store, Seungmin dressed in grey sweats and a hoodie twice his size. His hair is a faded orange, shaggy and overgrown. The staff member is dressed in all black, a tight-fitting short sleeve that makes his arms bulge. 

The first photo is Seungmin stepping out of the convenience store carrying plastic bags that with snacks. The staff member has his mask pulled down, and the smile he’s wearing while looking at Seungmin is the brightest thing in the photo. In the second photo, his mouth is open as he’s midway through saying something. Seungmin’s eyes are narrowed, and his grumpiness is obvious through the screen.  In the third photo, he’s throwing a bag of shrimp chips at the staff member, who doubles over laughing. 

[+291 -17] Is that his manager? He’s handsome….

[+143 -34] Ah, Seungmin-ssi please, we can’t afford any more staff mistreatment allegations…

[+560 -70] Does the store even have any snacks left? ㅋㅋㅋ

[+643 -30] They’re so cute!!! I love how comfortable JYPE idols are with their staff 🫶

[+1279 -678] Those arms…why does he look so familiar?

💌