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mafiadad5 · 24 hours ago

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No Strings attached || P.Jisung (PART 2)

˖ ࣪⊹🎸Rockstar!Jisung x fem!reader (ft. crush!haechan) || PART 1- read here

˖ ࣪⊹🎸 synopsis- Everyone's been raving about Black Horizon, and now they're in town for a concert. You never paid them any mind-didn't even know who they were, that was until you discovered that their lead guitarist is your long lost childhood best friend. You're finally reunited, but at what cost?

˖ ࣪⊹🎸 genre/warnings- toxic friends with benefits, fluff, heavy angst, arguing, cursing, heartbreak, misunderstanding, mental illness mentions.

˖ ࣪⊹🎸 W/c- 14.7k

˖ ࣪⊹🎸 Playlist- Leave me Lonely- Ariana Grande, Nervous- The Neighborhood, White Ferrari- Frank Ocean, You get me so high- The Neighborhood, Free- 6LACK, Best Mistake- Ariana Grande, i hate fruits- NCT DREAM, I Love You, I’m Sorry- Gracie Abrams, Journey Mercies- MARK, Back To You- Selena Gomez, In Love With You- Erykah Badu.

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The bar was quieter than usual tonight. You'd been on autopilot all evening—pouring drinks, wiping down counters, moving through the motions without much thought.

Haechan, of course had other plans.

"You seem off today." He said, leaning against the counter as you filled a glass with ice.

"I'm fine."

He squinted at you. "No, you're being all weird and distant."

You rolled your eyes, setting the glass down. "I'm working."

"You always work, but you always talk back." He pouted dramatically. "What, did I do something? Did I lose my touch?"

You sighed. "Haechan—"

"Or..." He grinned, propping his chin on his hand. "Did he say something?"

Your hands froze for a split second before you went back to wiping the counter. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, please." He scoffed. "No way he didn't have a fit about us talking so much."

Your grip tightened around the rag. "It's not like that."

Haechan hummed knowingly. "Uh huh. So if I said something like—" He reached over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, voice dropping slightly. "You look really pretty tonight, you wouldn't get all stiff and awkward?"

You swallowed hard, stepping back slightly. "I'm cutting you off."

"Yikes, he really got you." He grinned, but there was something softer in his expression now like he knew.

"Don't do that." You muttered, focusing back on the counter.

"Do what?" He questioned.

"You know."

Haechan exhaled, shaking his head with a small smile. "Yeah, I do."

You both let the silence settle, the unspoken truth hanging in the air.

The last hour of your shift passed in a blur, the crowd thinning out, the weight on your chest settling. You were more than ready to go home—to sleep, to not think.

And then of course he walked in.

He didn't say anything at first, just slid into his usual seat at the bar, fingers tapping lightly against the counter. His presence alone sent a warmth through your chest.

Haechan let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, great— my competition is here."

Jisung arched a brow. "Competition?"

"She's been avoiding me all night." Haechan stated. "Tell your boyfriend to stop scaring off the clientele."

You groaned. "Haechan, shut up."

Jisung just smirked. "She's going home with me either way."

Haechan scoffed, looking between the two of you. "Gross."

You just sighed, tossing your rag onto the counter. "I'm clocking out."

Jisung stood staring at Haechan tauntingly as you grabbed your things, waiting by the door. When you turned, he was already holding the door open for you.

Haechan watched the two of you with a shake of his head. "Pathetic— truly pathetic."

"Goodnight Haechan." You called over your shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hope you trip on the way out."

Jisung laughed under his breath, placing a hand on the small of your back as you stepped outside. The night air was cool against your skin, the streetlights casting a soft glow over everything.

Neither of you spoke as you walked. You didn't have to because at the end of the night you always ended up here, with him.

══════════════════════════

Morning light spilled through the small gap in the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The air was still, filled only with the quiet sound of Jisung's steady breathing beneath you. His arm was loosely draped around your waist, your head rising and falling gently with his chest.

Then, a vibration.

Your brows furrowed slightly as the sound cut through the stillness, but you barely moved, your body too warm and comfortable to care.

Another buzz.

Jisung shifted slightly beneath you, turning his head toward the nightstand for a split second before deciding against it, exhaling deeply and relaxing back into the pillows.

Then his ringtone pierced loudly through the silence.

His arm tensed around you before he groaned, blindly reaching over to silence it. He barely glanced at the screen before declining the call, his fingers quickly finding your waist again, pulling you closer.

Then it rang again... and again.

"Who is that?" You murmured groggily, rubbing your eyes as the relentless buzzing continued.

Jisung sighed, finally grabbing his phone. His brows knitted together as he squinted at the screen.

"It's my manager." His voice was deep and scratchy, barely above a whisper as he swiped to answer the call.

You let your eyes flutter shut again, sinking back into the warmth of the bed. Whatever it was, it could wait, but then Jisung shot up, sitting against the headboard so fast it nearly jolted you awake.

"What—how?" His voice had lost all its sleepiness, now sharp and alert.

Your stomach tightened as you sat up beside him, watching his face closely.

"How long has it been out?" His jaw clenched, eyes flickering to you for half a second before darting away.

"What is it?" You said lightly, chest feeling tight.

"No, I'm at her place." He said into the phone, his voice curt. His fingers were gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

You swallowed hard, heart hammering as you searched his face for any kind of answer.

"No, no we aren't. I just—" He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "I'll be there soon."

The call ended and the silence that followed was suffocating.

Jisung threw the blankets off and climbed out of bed in one swift movement, grabbing his clothes with an urgency that made your stomach drop.

"Jisung." Your voice was firm but filled with worry. "What's going on?"

He yanked his shirt over his head, barely looking at you as he moved. "My manager is flying in. I need to meet him at the hotel."

"Is everything okay?" You pressed, swinging your legs over the bed, anxiety curling in your gut.

He hesitated for half a second before answering. "Something got leaked."

Your breath caught.

"What—your album?" Your brows knitted together, trying to make sense of his reaction.

Jisung didn't answer right away. He pulled his jeans on avoiding your gaze, his lips pressing into a thin line.

You stood up. "Jisung."

"A video." His voice was low.

You froze. "A video?"

His fingers curled into fists for a moment before he exhaled. "Of us."

A cold chill ran down your spine. "Us?"

He finally looked at you. "Outside the bar."

Your stomach dropped.

The memory came rushing back— the cool night air against your skin, Jisung's hands gripping your waist as he pressed you against the brick wall.

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Jisung grabbed his keys from the dresser, his movements stiff. You forced yourself to move, slipping into a shirt and shorts before following him out of the bedroom.

"Us making out—that's what got leaked?" Your voice was slightly uneven.

"Yeah."

"Jisung, what does this mean? How bad is it?" You rushed after him, heart pounding.

"I don't know yet, ok?" He snapped, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Just—just give me some time. A little space."

You stared at him, your stomach twisting.

"Time and space?" Your voice was sharper now, panic creeping in. "Jisung, I'm in this video too. What about me?"

His eyes darkened. "Y/n—"

"If my mom finds out about this, she's going to freak." Your voice wavered slightly, your breath unsteady.

Jisung let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Y/n, you're twenty three. If your mom freaks out over a kiss, that's her problem."

A lump formed in your throat. "It's not about the kiss Jisung." Your voice was quieter now, but filled with something deeper.

His expression shifted slightly as he paused, finally really looking at you. "What?"

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You couldn't say it— couldn't tell him the real reason this was more complicated for you than it was for him.

Instead, you took a deep breath, forcing a small shaky smile. "Nothing, I'm sorry. I'm just freaking out—please, go handle everything."

Jisung studied you for a moment, his jaw still tight, his eyes scanning your face as if he knew there was more, but he didn't push.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Okay."

And with that, he was gone. ══════════════════════════

A week.

Seven days without a single word from Jisung. Seven days of checking your phone, hoping for a message, a call, anything to prove he hadn't just disappeared into thin air, but there was nothing— no missed calls, no texts, not even an Instagram story to let you know he was alive and scrolling.

You tried to push it aside, pretend it didn't bother you as much as it did, but then your mom had asked about it.

You knew something was off the moment you answered the phone and heard the hesitation in her voice.

"Y/n..." A pause— too long. "Someone told me something today."

Your stomach had plummeted. You didn't need to ask what it was, you already knew.

"There's a video." She continued, her voice slow. "Of you... and Jisung."

It had taken everything in you to keep your voice even, to brush it off like it was nothing. You mumbled something about the internet twisting things, about how people overreacted and you two just met for drinks, to catch up only once.

Your mom had sighed, clearly unconvinced, but she didn't push. The conversation ended with a soft "Just remember what I told you, ok?"

And the moment you hung up you exhaled in relief, but the relief didn't last.

Now you're at work, standing behind the bar, forcing smiles and pretending everything is fine, but your hands feel unsteady, and the usual rhythm of your shift feels off.

Haechan notices while you two are closing

"You okay?" His voice is softer than usual.

You freeze for half a second before resuming wiping the counter. "Yeah."

His brows lift slightly. "You sure? You've been off... all week."

You force a small smile. "I'm fine, really."

Haechan doesn't look convinced. His fingers tap lightly against the counter as he studies you. "Jisung hasn't been here either."

Your grip tightens around the rag and Haechan catches it immediately. "So... what's going on?"

You swallow. "Nothing."

He frowns. "Y/n—"

"Nothing, ok?" The words snap out before you can stop them, sharper than you intended.

He blinks clearly taken aback, but doesn't let it go.

"Y/n." He tries again, gentler this time. "Talk to me."

You exhale sharply, the frustration bubbling up despite your best efforts to push it down.

"A video got leaked."

Haechan's face remains neutral for a second, as if he's trying to process what you just said, then his brows knit together.

"A video— what kind of video?" You can see the confusion settle in.

"Of me and Jisung."

His eyes widen slightly. You can see him trying to piece things together, but when you don't elaborate his brows furrow. "Wait, what happened? I haven't seen anything."

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "I don't know. Some paparazzi or fan or someone caught us outside the bar last week and now it's out. Jisung's manager flew in, and I haven't heard from him since."

Haechan stares at you for a moment, tapping his fingers against the counter in thought before he pulls out his phone.

"I seriously don't know what you're talking about. I'm not on social media much when it comes to that stuff." He mutters, unlocking the screen.

You don't respond, you just watch as he starts typing, curiosity flickering across his face.

Then he finds it— you know the exact moment he does, his entire body stiffens. His expression shifts, eyes scanning the screen, lips pressing into a thin line, fingers gripping his phone just a little tighter.

He's quiet for too long.

"Haechan?"

He didn't answer.

You see the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his fingers hesitate before scrolling again.

The air between you grows thick. Then, suddenly he's typing frantically, fingers flying across the screen.

Your stomach twists. "Who are you texting?"

Haechan didn't answer, then his phone rang. His whole body went rigid at the name on the screen. He doesn't hesitate, turning away, walking quickly toward the back exit.

"Haechan." You call after him, but he doesn't stop.

The door swings shut behind him, leaving you standing there. As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Jisung [12:08 AM]: "Hey."

You stared at the screen. Hey? That was it? After all this time—after a full week of silence and radio static, that was all he had to say?

The frustration bubbled in your chest as your thumb hovered over the screen. You didn't hesitate calling him, pressing the phone to your ear.

The call rang once, then clicked.

Declined.

Jisung [12:09 AM]: "Can't talk otp rn, sorry."

You let out a scoff, sharp and breathy, your chest rising with disbelief. Was this seriously happening? Everyone around you was acting like the world had just exploded. Haechan had disappeared in the middle of your shift like a ghost and now this?

You typed quickly, fingers tapping harder than they needed to.

You [12:11 AM]: "What is your deal?"

No response.

You shoved your phone back into your pocket as you tried to distract yourself. Cleaning up the bar by yourself, wiping down counters, stacking glasses—anything to fill the silence that Jisung left, anything to quiet the storm in your head.

When you finally made it home, you thought maybe a hot shower and the pure weight of exhaustion would dull your mind enough to let you sleep, but when you laid in bed, your mind wouldn't slow down.

You kept reaching for your phone, your thumb dragging down your notification screen... nothing new.

One hour passed—your eyes shut, only to snap open again with every creak in your apartment.

Then another hour—you tried shifting positions, curling up tighter, then lying flat on your back staring at the ceiling, begging your brain to shut up.

Then two more—your eyelids finally started to flutter closed until his name raced across your mind for the, what, 43rd time that night?

You sighed and grabbed your phone again, checking the notification center like it might magically change.

4:43 AM.

A tear slid down your cheek before you could stop it.

You turned to your side and curled into yourself, defeated. You hadn't asked for this—hadn't asked for the confusion, the ache, the way your chest felt like it was being squeezed by something invisible. It was supposed to be casual and simple, but here you were losing sleep over someone who'd vanished without warning.

You didn't even know if you were more scared about the video... or the possibility that you had lost Jisung— again.

Eventually you drifted into a restless sleep, not peaceful, but quiet.

Then your phone started ringing.

Your eyes flew open, heart slamming in your chest as you sat up in bed. The room was still gray with early morning light. You blinked at the alarm clock, 7:28 AM, before throwing off the covers and scrambling to find your phone under the sheets.

There it was. Jisung's name lit up your screen like some cruel joke. You rubbed your eyes and looked again, nope, it was definitely him.

You answered instantly, breath caught in your throat.

There was a long pause before his voice cut through the silence.

"Hey."

It was calm... too calm, like nothing had happened.

"Hey?" You repeated, your voice raspy from sleep, but full of anger.

"I missed—"

"No." You interrupted, sitting up straighter. "Is that seriously all you have to say? After everything? After disappearing, texting me randomly just to ignore my call? That's it?"

"Y/n, woah... slow down—"

You nearly laughed, humorless and bitter. "I've been slow. I've been patient. I gave you time, space, all the freedom you clearly needed. And the whole time I was sitting here going crazy, worried about you, worried about us, and now you want me to slow down?"

His breath wavered slightly on the other end. "I'm sorry... I just- I had to wait—"

"No." You said, voice trembling now. "I don't want your lame excuses and I definitely don't want some stupid last minute apology like that's going to fix anything. I just... I want you to leave me alone. Don't call me, don't text me. This has gone too far."

The silence on the line was immediate and loud. It sat between you like an invisible wall, thick and hard to breathe through and you couldn't take it, not another second.

You hung up.

The moment the call ended, your phone buzzed again. You groaned, but you looked anyways.

Jisung [7:34 AM]: "Listen, I'm sorry. I swear I didn't mean to leave you in the dark. I was just as worried about you as you were for me. My manager told me no contact for a few days, and I thought I was free again and texted, until he told me not just yet. I just got the okay this morning and I called you as soon as that happened. I understand if you never want to talk to me again. Again, I'm sorry about everything."

You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the screen.

You [7:38 AM]: "Yeah, I get it. I just... I overreacted. I guess barely getting any sleep is catching up to me. I don't want to stop talking to you, but I do need a little break. Just to breathe and reset."

Jisung [7:40 AM]: "Sounds good to me. Just text when you're ready. Hope you feel better soon."

You set the phone down on your nightstand and leaned back into your pillow, your chest still heavy, but lighter than it had been an hour ago. ══════════════════════════

It had been a few days since you'd last spoken to Jisung—or anyone really. After what felt like a lifetime of headaches, you finally had your long awaited days off, and you spent them doing absolutely nothing. No texts, no calls, no small talk, just silence and it felt... good. Or at least, better. You needed to breathe, to sit in your own head without someone else's voice filling the space, but even in that quiet, a dull ache lingered—like something unfinished was hovering over your chest, waiting to be addressed.

That afternoon, after dancing around it for long enough you finally opened your conversation with Jisung.

You [4:43 PM]: "Hey, I'm doing much better now."

The response came sooner than you expected.

Jisung [4:50 PM]: "Hey, I'm glad you're doing better."

Short. Simple. Uncomplicated. You liked the message, lips pressing into a line before setting your phone down. It was time to get ready for work.

Just as you were about to walk through the bar's front entrance, your phone buzzed again.

Jisung [5:32 PM]: "Hey. Sorry I should've said more and updated you earlier. Are you free to meet up right now?"

You sighed, thumb hovering over your screen. You wished you could. A hundred things ran through your head—questions, things unsaid, moments that deserved more time.

You [5:33 PM]: "I really would like to, but I'm at work. What about when I get off?"

The answer came quickly.

Jisung [5:35 PM]: "Can't. My flight's tonight at 11, gonna be gone for a while."

You [5:36 PM]: "Damn. That sucks."

You walked inside, shaking the feeling off as best you could. Work came first, life didn't pause just because your heart was playing hopscotch.

You set down your bag and moved toward the floor when a familiar voice greeted you.

"Long time no see." Haechan smiled, leaning back against the counter with that usual glint in his eyes.

"Long time no see." You echoed, forcing a small smile in return.

"How was your break?" He asked.

You pulled your apron over your head, tightening the straps. "Much needed." You replied honestly.

"That's good." He said.

Your phone buzzed again making you glance at the screen while wiping your hands on a bar towel.

Jisung [5:47 PM]: "I know. Anyways uh, about the video. It didn't really spread too much so we're good."

Your eyes narrowed slightly, your thumb immediately typing back.

You [5:48 PM]: "It did spread."

You didn't even wait for his reply. You just shoved your phone back into your pocket, trying to focus on the customer in front of you. As soon as they were taken care of, your curiosity got the better of you, and you pulled your phone out again.

Jisung [5:53 PM]: "Ok captain obvious, duh. But it's better now, and my manager has it handled so it shouldn't get worse. Did anyone you know bring it up?"

You [6:01 PM]: "Yep. A few of my friends texted me about it. Also Haechan found it in front of me... it was embarrassing lol."

You waited, eyes flickering up to glance across the room. Haechan was talking to another bartender, casually tossing a bottle back.

Jisung [6:02 PM]: "Oh. I'm sure he didn't mind watching it lol. Sorry about your friends tho."

You [6:03 PM]: "Nah, don't worry about it. My friends were hyping me up ofc lmaoo. My mother wasn't too happy tho."

There was a pause.

Jisung [6:04 PM]: "Your mom found out?"

You [6:04 PM]: "Yes."

You saw the little typing bubble pop up, but no message came. Before you could dwell on it, another customer came in, and you returned to the flow of work—smiles, drinks, small talk, tips.

When you finally had a breather, you checked your phone again.

Jisung [6:05 PM]: "Omg, that must suck. I know how much you didn't want her to know. I'll stop by to personally apologize to her for all this mess."

You froze, scanning the message again.

Then again.

Your heart dropped a little.

You [6:38 PM]: "What lol? Don't. Like actually... seriously do not."

You shoved your phone back into your pocket, silently praying he saw your message in time. The last thing you needed was that.

A buzz.

Then another.

Then two more.

You groaned under your breath. "Damn Jisung..."

Then your phone started ringing.

You glanced at the screen and your stomach twisted in knots.

Not Jisung.

Mom.

You let the phone ring, pulse pounding in your ears. Your thumb hesitated over the screen as you slid down the notification bar instead.

Four texts lit up your phone—three from her, one from him.

Mom [7:12 PM]: "What is Jisung doing at my front door?"

Jisung [7:15 PM]: "Too late, but I don't feel very welcomed."

Mom [7:17 PM]: "I really don't want to bother you at work. Can you please reply or get him to leave?"

Mom [7:20 PM]: "Y/n, get here immediately."

Your heart stopped. You could practically hear your mother's voice in those texts—tight and stern. The kind of voice you hadn't heard since high school.

You rushed out from behind the bar, panic rising with every step.

"Haechan." You called, your voice shaky. "I'm—I'm having a family emergency, can I please leave?"

He turned toward you, immediately concerned. "Oh my god, are you okay—?"

"Can I leave?" You snapped, a little louder than intended.

His eyes widened. "Yes—yeah, go ahead."

You didn't waste another second. You grabbed your stuff with trembling hands and darted out the door, barely remembering to clock out.

The drive was a blur.

Forty five minutes of silence, your fingers tightly grasping the steering wheel, your thoughts spiraling. The only sound was the pounding in your chest, the voice in your head whispering every possible outcome—none of them good.

When you finally pulled up to your childhood home, your stomach twisted all over again. His car was still parked out front. You barely put your car in park before flinging the door open, slamming it shut behind you as you stormed toward the porch, heart in your throat, breath ragged.

This wasn't happening.

This couldn't actually be happening.

You rushed through the front door, your chest rising and falling with sharp breaths, adrenaline still running hot in your veins. The moment your eyes landed on them—Jisung and your mother sitting stiffly at the kitchen table, you felt your heart stop.

They were talking or at least attempting to. The air was heavy with discomfort. Jisung sat awkwardly, posture rigid, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve while your mother sipped tea like it might keep her temper from bubbling over. Their words were quiet and polite, but strained, like two people trying to speak without saying anything at all.

Then, they both noticed you.

Jisung's face lit up, relief washing over his features. "I thought you were at work." He said with a small hopeful smile, standing from his chair.

You barely opened your mouth before your mother's voice sliced through the air.

"Y/n." She said sharply. "May I have a word with you... privately?"

Your breath hitched as you nodded, gaze flicking between them. Your mother's expression was cold, her jaw locked in that way you knew too well. Jisung glanced at her, then back at you, his smile fading completely. He studied your face with soft, searching eyes trying to read the emotions you were fighting to keep down.

"Is everything okay?" He asked you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "Can you please go?" You murmured, eyes not quite meeting his.

He blinked. "I—are you—?"

"Leave, Jisung." Your voice came out sharper than you intended, but you couldn't take it back.

The room fell still and for a brief moment he just looked at you. Really looked—like he was trying to memorize something. His eyes shone with something close to sorrow. Then, without another word he nodded and stepped past you toward the door.

The click of it closing behind him echoed like a gunshot as you stood in the silence, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, eyes fixed on the floor. You could feel your mother's gaze burning into you, but you didn't look up.

She was the first to speak.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Her tone was low, but it held the weight of a storm.

You stayed quiet.

"Do you know how humiliating that was?" She snapped, her voice rising with every word. "He just showed up at my house uninvited, trying to apologize like that would fix everything. What were you thinking?"

"I didn't tell him to go—" You started.

"But you let it happen." She cut in, slamming her cup down onto the table. "You invited him back into your life after everything we've been through? After what you went through?"

Your chest tightened. "He didn't mean for any of it to happen."

"He didn't notice you were falling apart Y/n." She hissed, stepping closer. "You were sinking—drowning, and he was too busy chasing his music and flirting with you to even see it."

She exhaled sharply, trying to keep her composure. "You think I wanted to pull you out of school? You think I wanted to isolate you? No. I did it to protect you. You could barely get out of bed, you barely spoke, and all he ever did was make you feel like you had to pretend you were fine."

"That's not fair." You said quietly, your voice cracking. "He didn't know— I didn't tell him."

"You shouldn't have had to!" She snapped. "A real friend would've seen it. He would've known something was wrong, but no—he got to live his dream while you stayed behind, broken."

Tears stung at your eyes. "You don't understand, he was the only thing that made me feel normal."

"No." She said firmly, voice cold. "He made you feel dependent and I couldn't watch you crumble like that—not again. That's why I drew the line, that's why I said no more Jisung."

You looked away, jaw clenched, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. "You didn't give me a choice."

"I gave you a lifeline, Y/n." Her voice softened just a little. "I did what I thought was right, I didn't want you hurt again."

"But you hurt me." You whispered. "You took him away from me when I needed him the most."

She went silent and for a moment, all you could hear was the ticking of the clock in the hallway. Finally, your mom sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead.

"I'm your mother. I don't need to be liked, I need to keep you safe. Even if it means you hate me for a while."

You stood there, torn between anger and understanding, between heartbreak and the unbearable weight of love.

"...I don't hate you." You said at last, voice barely audible. "But you don't get to decide who I care about."

Her face twisted slightly, but she didn't speak and neither did you, because anything more— anything else might break you both.

"Get out of my house, Y/n." She spoke quietly, her voice calm—too calm. The kind of calm that comes right before something inside you breaks.

You didn't hesitate, you didn't even look back. You turned on your heel, heart twisting, fingers trembling at your sides. There was no room left for explanation, not that she'd listen anyway. You stepped out of the house with a mixture of hurt and utter exhaustion clinging to your skin, like it had been soaked into your bones.

You made your way to your car, slamming the door harder than you needed to. The silence was unbearable. Not even music would've helped—not when your thoughts were screaming louder than anything the radio could drown out.

The drive home was somehow worse than the drive there. You couldn't breathe past the lump in your throat. Your vision blurred, tears spilling from your eyes even though you bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood. You weren't supposed to feel like this, you weren't supposed to still feel like this.

By the time you reached your apartment, your hands were shaking as you turned the key in the door. You kicked off your shoes, barely registering them thudding against the wall. You just needed to get to your room to curl up in the dark where no one could see the mess inside of you, but just as you were about to disappear into that safe quiet, a knock echoed against the front door.

You froze.

Then it came again—louder. A fist against wood like whoever was on the other side knew you were there and wasn't leaving until you answered.

You stormed toward the door, your feet heavy with dread and rage and something else you couldn't name. You yanked it open without a word—

And there he was.

Jisung.

His eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by your expression, but you didn't give him time to speak.

You scoffed, the sound bitter. "Showing up unwanted again, I guess."

His brows furrowed slightly, hurt flickering in his eyes. "What?"

Then, without asking he stepped inside.

"Is everything okay Y/n?"

Your heart sank further, and the anger boiled right up behind it. "Is everything okay?" You repeated, your voice filled with disbelief. "Is everything okay? I told you not to talk to my mom, I told you to just leave it, and I guess you took that as 'go to her house and completely bombard her?'"

"I just went to apologize for all this mess I caused. Why is that such an issue?" He asked, his tone defensive, but still trying to stay calm.

"Because I told you not to! I told you not to, and you purposely ignored me—was it just to make yourself feel better?" Your voice cracked.

"It wasn't to make me feel better." He said quickly. "It was to make you feel better because I knew how anxious you were about it. I did this thinking about you, and this is what I get in return?"

"Jisung." Your voice rose higher than you intended, trembling. "I told you no. I told you no, and you did not listen to me."

"Ok, I'm sorry." He said, voice low and sincere.

You laughed bitterly, taking a step back like you needed physical space to handle the ache inside. "You're always sorry and I'm sick of it. We wouldn't even be in this situation if you weren't so childish and jealous."

His chest rose, a slow inhale through his nose before he responded. "Oh, of course it's all my fault. Of course, because it's never yours, right?"

"What are you talking about?" You questioned.

"Yeah, what I did was wrong—but you're acting like you're innocent in all of this." His voice was sharper now, angrier. "You never talk to me about anything. You shut me out every time I get close. The second I ask something that makes you uncomfortable, you run. You shut down and expect me to just be okay with it, but I'm not. It's really fucking frustrating Y/n."

You stared at him, stunned by the rawness in his voice.

"You don't get to be angry at my choices when you don't give me any reason not to make them. You don't talk, you don't trust me—and then you blame me when shit falls apart. Saying 'don't' or 'leave it' isn't enough. You can't just shut me down and expect me to read your mind."

Your lips parted, the pain bubbling under your ribcage. "Are you actually serious? Jisung, I don't know what you expected. I shouldn't be forced to talk about my personal life or my trauma— it's not your business."

His eyes flashed. "It is my business when it affects me, when it's about us. First it was you disappearing with no explanation. Then your mom hating me out of nowhere and I'm just supposed to sit here and say nothing while you keep pushing me away?"

You clenched your jaw.

"It's like you know you're in the wrong." He continued. "And instead of owning up to it, you push everything into a box, lock it, and throw away the key. Then you blame me for not figuring out the combination."

"I'm in the wrong Jisung? Fine. You're right, I'm wrong. Are you happy now?"

His voice cracked, softer this time. "I don't care about being right. I just wanted... something, an apology, an explanation, anything, but you couldn't even give me that."

You swallowed hard. "Okay, I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear? I should've told you."

His eyes softened, just barely. "Then tell me."

Silence. Your mouth opened, but nothing came as a tear slipped down your cheek.

"I—"

"Can't? Thought so." He finished for you, his voice full of quiet resignation.

You couldn't speak, couldn't even move.

He stared at you for a long, aching moment. Then without a word he turned around, heading for the door, but before he opened it, he glanced back at you one last time.

"You know... you're not as nonchalant and mysterious as you think you are." He said, his voice hollow. "You're just unbearable."

The words hit you like a slap, a cut you didn't see coming. Then the door opened, and he was gone.

You stood there in the silence, broken in too many places to count. Your heart pounded against your ribs like it was trying to get out. You felt hurt, the same hurt you felt when blocked him in high school. You loved him, you couldn't lie, but it wasn't supposed to feel like this... or maybe it was? Maybe you meant to feel this hurt, maybe it meant something.

You didn't even think before you ran to the door. You flung it open, breath catching.

"Jisung!" You called out.

He turned, slowly.

His eyes glimmered beneath the streetlight, but he didn't speak.

"Can you come back?"

He paused, then nodded, following you back inside. As soon as the door shut, he just stood there waiting... bracing.

You faced him.

"Junior year." You said softly.

He blinked, face twitching like he didn't quite believe you were saying it.

"I was doing fine, until I wasn't. I don't know what happened—it just... hit me all at once. I was diagnosed with depression. My mom... she decided it was best to move me away."

He nodded slightly, his hands curled into fists.

"So what does that have to do with me?" He asked, his voice calm but strained. "I feel bad, but I don't understand why you didn't reach out, why you blocked me— why you painted me as the villain."

"My mom. She told me to stop talking to you, to block you."

"Again." He said, voice rising slightly. "What does that have to do with me, what did I do?"

You hesitated. "Because... you didn't notice. You didn't see me falling apart."

His jaw clenched. "What if I did?"

"Then why didn't you say anything?" You asked.

"Because you. Because you never let me in. You would've shut me down like you always did."

"Well, you could've tried." You said, biting back the sob climbing your throat.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you seriously blaming this on me?"

"I'm not blaming—"

"The obvious, right?" He said. "That I was a bad friend, that I was selfish, that I wasn't enough. That's what you think, isn't it?"

"I didn't say you were a terrible friend—"

"No, but you believed it."

The air between you felt like it might crack.

"I just don't understand why you kept it from me." He said, his voice breaking now. "I would've understood."

"Right." You scoffed. "Like you do now?"

"You know what—"

"What?" You shot back.

"I would understand if you were just fucking normal!" He snapped. "But you're not. You hide, you lie, you give half truths. You expect me to keep waiting for you to open up like I'm some fucking option."

"I tried." Your voice cracked. "I unblocked you when I was finally ready. I wrote it all out—the truth, everything, but you had me blocked."

He went quiet for a minute.

"Y/n." He said softly. "It's hard to unblock someone who hurt you."

You looked at him, eyes narrowed. "But it was easy when you wanted to hook up though, right?"

His expression froze.

"That was... not the same thing." He said after a pause. "It's been years. I'm not as hurt anymore. I don't care about you anymore. I don't want you to feel the way I did. Why is it so fucking difficult for you to use common sense?"

"Oh." You laughed hollowly. "You don't care about me anymore?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Get out of my house." You said, voice cold.

"But we're—"

"Get out."

And this time, he listened, but it didn't stop the ache from clawing its way through your chest as he walked away.

The door slammed behind him, echoing like a gunshot in the silence of your apartment.

You didn't move.

You stared at the space where Jisung once stood, your eyes burning from the tears welling in your eyes.

The silence in your apartment wrapped around you like a noose. It rang in your ears louder than his voice did, you could still hear it:

"You're not as nonchalant and mysterious as you think. You're just unbearable."

Unbearable. That word echoed and bounced in your brain.

Your knees buckled before you could make it back to the bedroom, hitting the floor hard. You pressed your forehead to your knees, arms wrapping around yourself to maybe hold yourself together long enough not to completely fall apart, but it was useless.

The sob came out rough, like your body had been holding it hostage. One turned into two, then three and then it was a flood. The kind of crying that makes your face burn, your limbs feel like they've been dragged through fire.

It had always been like this with Jisung. He knew you better than anyone, that was the worst part.

He knew exactly where to hit — the places you thought were buried so deep no one would ever find them, but he always did.

And still... you loved him.

God, you loved him and it hurt— it hurt so much it made you sick.

You stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, maybe more. Eventually the sobs turned into hiccups, then silence again. You stared at the ceiling, your heart still pounding.Your head ached, your body felt empty and your heart was somewhere else entirely.

You didn't remember getting up, only the cold splash of water hitting your face in the bathroom sink. The ache in your eyes, the red around your waterline like you had been crying blood.

The next day felt like it moved in slow motion.

Your eyes were swollen, hidden behind makeup and caffeine, and your limbs dragged behind you like they hadn't caught up with your body yet. Work felt impossibly loud— the clinking of glasses, the music, the sounds of casual conversation all crashing against your headache.

You barely said more than a few words since your shift started and Haechan noticed, he always did.

You could feel his eyes on you from across the bar, quick glances when he thought you weren't looking. His brow creased just slightly whenever you sighed too long or lingered too long at the register like you forgot what button to press.

At some point between customers he slipped behind the bar beside you, leaning against the counter with a quiet thud of his shoulder.

"You're quiet today."

You didn't answer right away, just kept drying the same glass for far too long.

"Bad night?" He asked, voice low, but not pressing.

You nodded once, barely, and he didn't push further.

Instead, he glanced around the bar like he was making sure no one would hear before turning toward you, speaking gently. "Hey... you doing anything tomorrow night?"

Your head turned toward him slowly. "Why?"

"I was thinking." He started, tapping his fingers absently against the counter. "Maybe we grab dinner? I know a place with good pasta and wine, and honestly it just feels like you could use a distraction."

You blinked at him. "I'm not really good company right now." You admitted.

"Good." He said with a small smile. "Takes the pressure off, i'll talk enough for both of us."

You huffed, not quite a laugh, but the closest you had gotten to one all day.

"You're not gonna try to get me to talk about it?"

"Nope." He said easily. "Unless you want to, but I'm perfectly fine talking about something else."

You finally cracked the barest smile, shaking your head. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe." He said, bumping his shoulder lightly against yours. "But I'm still gonna pick you up at seven— that's okay?"

You paused your heart heavy, but the thought of sitting alone in your apartment again made your chest cave in.

"Yeah, that's okay." You whispered, and for the first time all day, you felt something close to okay.

Dinner wasn't fancy, it wasn't meant to be.

Haechan had picked a tucked away Italian place. The lights were dim, the tables were small, and the candles flickered. It was the kind of restaurant that didn't try too hard, just a place to eat, chat, and maybe if you were lucky, laugh.

And you did.

At first, it was hard. You smiled, but it didn't always reach your eyes. You listened, but your thoughts wandered. Still, Haechan didn't push, he kept the conversation light with bad stories about worse customers, impressions of your boss, dramatic retellings of awkward childhood crushes that had you nearly spitting out your drink.

He didn't ask about Jisung, he didn't ask why your eyes kept drifting to the window or why your fingers trembled slightly every time they brushed the stem of your wine glass. He just... let you be.

And somewhere between the laughter and the second basket of garlic bread, you started to feel something warm return. Not all the way, but something.

"I think you needed this." Haechan said, tilting his head toward you after the plates were cleared, his voice sincere.

"I did." You admitted softly.

"I'm glad." He replied, and the way he looked at you made your breath catch for just a moment. Like he was seeing you for more than just this evening— like he was willing to wait as long as it took.

With that, dinner became a thing between the two of you.

Not every night, not always planned, but often enough.

Sometimes it was ramen in styrofoam cups on your couch with a show playing in the background that you both barely paid attention to. Other times it was late night drives to diners that never closed, eating fries dipped in milkshakes while the neon lights outside reflected across the car windows.

It wasn't about the food, it was about the company.

Haechan had this way of making everything feel easy. He didn't ask for pieces of you that you weren't ready to give, he didn't dig, he just existed next to you effortless.

You laughed more, smiled without thinking, started to breathe a little easier when he was around and that was enough.

The drive back tonight was quiet, but not uncomfortable. The city lights blurred through the window, and you let yourself watch them. Haechan hummed something under his breath, and you weren't sure if it was a song or just a habit, you wondered if he always did that when he was nervous.

When he pulled up in front of your apartment, he didn't say anything right away. The car idled softly, your hand was already on the door handle when he spoke.

"Can I walk you up?"

You looked at him with a smile.

"You always do." You whispered.

The walk to your door was quiet, when you had reached your door you turned slowly, suddenly unsure of what you were supposed to say.

"Thanks." You said lamely.

He smiled, stepping just a little closer. "Anytime."

He looked at you a second too long and you didn't back away. Before you could overthink it, before you could second guess the moment he leaned in and kissed you.

It was soft and hesitant, his lips barely brushing yours, and when they pressed a little firmer against yours, it made you feel loved— really loved. His fingers gently ghosted along your jaw and for a second you let yourself melt into it, but when you closed your eyes, it wasn't Haechan's voice that echoed in your memory.

It was Jisung's.

The way he used to say your name like it meant something, the weight of his stare when he was hurt, the way he walked out that night without slamming the door, like even his anger was soft when it came to you.

Your chest tightened, the kiss was kind, it was careful. Haechan deserved someone who could kiss him without thinking of someone else.

You pulled back, slowly.

"I should..." You whispered.

"Yeah." He said quietly, backing away. "Of course."

He didn't ask what was wrong. He just nodded like he understood, and stepped back.

"Goodnight Y/n."

"Goodnight Haechan."

You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, your heart pounding for reasons you wished you could explain. The kiss was nice and sweet, it made you feel something— but it wasn't Jisung.

And that realization felt worse than any goodbye. ══════════════════════════

You were sitting at home after your shift, before your phone buzzed beside you, its glow cutting through the dimness of your apartment.

Haechan [1:25 AM]: "Hey, do you want to meet me at the park? I got sandwiches :p"

A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. This wasn't out of the ordinary, if anything, it had become one of your favorite things at the moment.

You texted back a simple "Be there in 10", already slipping on your hoodie and grabbing your keys. Anything to get out of your head for a while.

When you got there, he was exactly where you expected him to be— sitting on the old bench that faced the lake. The moonlight bounced off the water towards him, but his eyes lit up when he saw you more than any reflection ever could.

"Hey." He smiled, already sliding a wrapped sandwich your way across the bench.

"Hey." You replied, taking it with a grateful glance. It was warm in your hands, the gesture alone already softening your thoughts.

You ate in comfortable silence at first, legs brushing once or twice but neither of you moving. Just the sounds of water rippling, the occasional bird call in the dark, the kind of night that could make you forget the world for a moment.

Then he spoke. "I can't believe you're about to leave me at the bar by myself in a few months." His voice was light and joking, but his eyes didn't quite match.

"Maybe you can be one of my employees." You teased.

He scoffed. "You? As my boss? Yeah right, I'd rather die." He laughed.

You rolled your eyes and hit him playfully.

"I'm still proud of you though, that you really did it, but I'm gonna miss you." His smile faltered for half a second before he straightened up again.

"Don't speak like that." You placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. "We're still gonna hang out. You know you can come anytime you want free pastries, perks of knowing the owner." You smiled.

That got a laugh out of him and a small one. "I guess."

The silence returned, but it was heavier now. He was thinking about something, you could feel it.

Then he perked up. "Guess who's going on tour."

You looked up, curious. "Who?"

"Black Horizon."

Your entire body tensed at the name. It felt like someone had dropped a rock into your stomach.

"Yeah." He continued, clearly unaware of your reaction. "They dropped an album about a month ago, so I expected it. I'm excited though, this city's their last stop."

You nodded, forcing a smile so he wouldn't see the way your world had tilted just slightly. "Cool."

"We should go." He added, his grin wide.

Your eyes flicked to him, your throat tight. "You think?"

"Yeah, totally." He said. "It'd be so fun to go together, a concert date."

The words felt wrong in your ears. Not because of him, but because of everything else. The memories, the person attached to that band.

"I mean, it would be fun going with you." You said slow and carefully. "But... why that concert? Why not something else?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I figured you liked them because of... you know." His voice tapered off as if he realized too late.

"I don't listen to them." You said quickly, voice tighter than you meant. "What about that one girl you went with last time? Why not go with her?"

He looked surprised at the shift in tone, but didn't push it. "My best friend? I don't talk to her anymore— guess I'll be going alone." He said.

"Oops." You replied with a forced laugh.

He leaned forward slightly, his voice softer now. "How about I take you somewhere nicer to eat, then we catch a movie or go to the arcade. Something fun, you know?"

Your face faltered the moment he said the words before you could stop it, your chest squeezed painfully, like a bruise pressed too hard. That was your thing— you and Jisung's. The late dinners, the movies, the stupidly competitive arcade battles that ended in laughter or harmless bickering. You could still hear his voice yelling about rigged claw machines and how he always swore this was the one he'd win.

"Yeah, I'd totally be down." You turned around to face him, a forced smile on your lips, but it was too late. Haechan noticed— of course he did, he always noticed.

He studied you for a long moment, his expression a bit sorrowed, the energy between you shifting.

"You like him, don't you?" He asked quietly. "More than you like me."

The words hit like a slap, not because they were harsh, but because they were true.

You opened your mouth, but no words came, just silence. Silence, and the memory of Jisung's voice, his touch, his kiss. The look in his eyes when he walked away. The guilt, the confusion, the ache that never really left.

Haechan looked at you like he already knew. Like he had known from the beginning, but had been trying to outrun it anyway.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, the words barely getting past the lump in your throat.

He nodded, a tiny smile curling his lips. "It's okay."

But you saw it, the flicker in his eyes. The way something inside him dimmed just a bit, and without a word he turned around from you, facing the lake as he quietly sat staring.

You stayed there watching him, regret curling in your stomach. He didn't deserve this, to get caught in the crossfire between you and your confusing feelings.

"I should go." You said softly, your voice breaking a little.

He didn't look at you when he replied. "Okay."

You hesitated, wanting to stay, wanting to explain, but you were so afraid that you'd just make it worse.

So you left, but the whole way home your chest ached. You had wanted so badly to feel something real again, but maybe that was the cruelest part of it all— that even something good, something warm could still feel like it wasn't yours to have.

══════════════════════════

You were sprawled out on your stomach in bed, one arm curled under your pillow, the other resting limply beside your phone.

Your head throbbed gently, the weight of the night— no, the past few months crashed down on you all at once now that you were alone. Haechan's words echoed in your head, his expression still reflected behind your eyes. The disappointment he didn't fully voice, the heartbreak he tried to tuck behind a soft smile.

And then there was Jisung... always.

You were tired, but not in the way sleep could fix.

Your phone buzzed on the mattress beside you, the sound making your heart jump. You rolled over quickly, a rush of hope shooting through you for a reason you didn't want to name. You didn't even realize how desperately you were hoping it was him— until you saw the name.

Haechan.

You stared at the screen for a second before finally unlocking your phone. There wasn't a message— no words, just a single link.

A song.

"2(things) interlude – Black Horizon"

Your throat tightened the second you saw the band's name. It was stupid, just a song, but still your finger hovered over the play button like it might burn you. You closed the app instead, exhaling sharply.

You opened your messages.

You [3:37 AM]: "Listen Haechan, I'm so, so sorry about everything."

You stared at the blinking cursor for a second before pressing send. It didn't feel like enough, nothing would.

His reply came almost instantly.

Haechan [3:38 AM]: "It's ok. Just listen to it."

You hesitated, gnawing on your bottom lip as if it could somehow keep you sane. Then you sat up slowly, grabbing your headphones from your nightstand with shaky hands. The wire tangled slightly in your grip, and your fingers fumbled in your hurry.

You lay back down, plugging them in.

2(things) interlude – Black Horizon

You stared at the title, your thumb trembling above the screen. A song was just a song, but this one felt loaded... personal. It had to be if Haechan sent it.

Still, you pressed play.

The track started with a faint, ambient hum,almost like static or the distant buzzing of streetlights in the middle of the night. Then came the soft strum of a guitar. Not the pounding drums or gritty vocals you expected from the band. No, this was gentler.

A voice started listing things. Random things, things they loved and hated about relationships— about people. It was honest and felt intimate.

Then the question came softly : "What's two things you love about her?"

The guitar faded into a delicate pattern. Then... his voice— Jisung's voice.

Low and quiet, almost like he didn't know how loud his words would echo.

"Her smile." He said.

You blinked hard, tears already beginning to prick at your eyes.

"I love to see her smile. I love when her eyes light up, when she's happy."

Your bottom lip quivered. You could hear it in his voice, the ache, that he meant it, every single word.

There was a pause, the guitar giving space to breathe.

Then another voice: "Okay, two things you hate— no, regret about her?"

The silence after that question was the loudest part of the whole song.

You didn't realize you'd stopped breathing until he spoke again.

"Letting her walk away... again."

That was when the first tear slipped down your cheek, warm against your cool skin. You didn't wipe it away.

"And..." He continued, voice even softer now. "And saying I was okay with being just friends. I wasn't... I never was."

Your whole body felt still, heavy like the truth had settled into your bones. You could barely hear the voice that responded— a stunned, "Damn." Before the sounds dissolved into fading chatter, the guitar taking over once more. A few more soft strums, then silence.

The track ended, but the noise in your head didn't.

You laid there, your headphones still in, your eyes blurry with tears. Some part of you wanted to believe you were imagining it, but it all felt too specific. The meaning of his words, the way he said 'her' like she was the only one in the world— and those chords... they were familiar.

You knew those chords, the ones he used to play in your garage, your bedroom, the old rehearsal space you used to sneak into after school. The song he said he wrote just for you, the one he never let anyone else hear, the one he only ever played when it was just the two of you.

You sat up, swiping out of the music app with trembling fingers. Your heart beat loudly against your ribcage. You opened your messages, scrolling past Haechan's name and tapping on Jisung's.

The chat opened, blank, unsent messages sitting in your head like static.

You stared at the screen, your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure where to begin. What could you even say?

"Did you mean it?"

"Was that about me?"

"I miss you."

But none of those messages were sent. The words were stuck on the tip of your tongue, too fragile to push through.

Maybe time would fix things. Maybe fate would pull you two back together, the way it always did. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But deep down, you knew those were just excuses because the truth was, you were scared.

Scared of hearing the wrong answer. Scared of hearing nothing at all. Scared of what it would mean if he felt the same way— or worse, if he didn't.

So instead, you sighed, swiping away from the message screen, closing your phone, and tucking it under your pillow like hiding it could hide the feelings too.

But even as you lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling, his voice stayed with you.

"Letting her walk away..."

He didn't say your name, but he didn't have to.

You knew. ══════════════════════════

It had been almost two months since Haechan being the kind, frustratingly forgiving person that he was decided to let the past go. Not entirely, maybe, but he let you back in. Piece by piece, moment by moment.

You were sitting across from him at your favorite lunch spot. You picked at your fries, watching the way the sunlight caught the edge of your glass.

"So." Haechan said between bites. "Your grand opening's in two days, right?"

You looked up at him and smiled. "Yep. I'm excited— nervous, but mostly excited."

He grinned, resting back in the booth. "I know the boss is pissed at me, I'm taking off two days in a row."

You laughed softly. "Oh yeah, you're going to that concert tomorrow, right?"

He nodded, sipping his drink. "Mhm. You sure you don't wanna go?"

You paused, the smile faltering for a split second before you tucked it back into place. "I'm sure."

He didn't, just nodded like he always did, and the conversation moved on.

But the next afternoon, the quiet settled back into your apartment, the thought returned, constantly.

You weren't actually considering going to the concert... were you?

Except... you were— you really, really were.

You sat on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, thumb scrolling through every ticket site you could think of. Last minute prices were outrageous, but your mind wasn't really focused on that. It kept drifting, pulling you back to the things Jisung used to say. How he'd always promise that you would never have to pay to see them live. That your name would always be on the list, that he wanted you there, front row every time.

That was before, before the space, before the silence, but a part of you still wondered was it true now? Did he still think about you at all?

The hours slipped by. It was getting late, and if you were going to go, you had to make the decision now.

The walls of your apartment felt tight, like they were echoing back every excuse you've ever made. You always told yourself you were giving things time, that things would work out naturally if they were meant to, but maybe you were just scared. Scared of what you might find out if you tried and maybe for the first time you were done waiting.

So you went.

You barely remembered the drive, just flashes of traffic lights and the sound of your heart hammering in your chest louder than the music you had playing. Your thoughts were spiraling, you knew you weren't going to talk to him. That wasn't the point, you weren't expecting anything.

What if your name wasn't there? What if he had forgotten you, erased you like a phase he'd outgrown? What if he healed, moved on, found someone else who didn't carry the same weight you did?

What if he didn't care anymore?

You pulled into the venue parking lot. The crowd outside buzzed with energy, fans taking photos, laughing.

You felt like you were holding your breath the entire time you walked to the box office. When you reached the counter, the girl behind the glass smiled brightly.

"Hi there! Can I help you?"

You swallowed hard. "Hi... I think I'm on the guest list?"

She gave a nod, pulling out a binder" "Name?"

"Y/n L/n."

She flipped through the pages slowly. Your heart was pounding in your ears so loud you could barely think. She turned another page, then another.

You tried to prepare yourself for the letdown. For the soft apologetic smile and the quiet "Sorry, you're not here." You already felt the sting of it.

Then she paused, eyes scanning the page, before flicking back up to you with a smile.

She reached into a drawer and pulled out a lanyard with a glossy pass on the end, and slid it across the counter.

"You're all set." She said brightly. "Guests have access to a private section, just ask security when you get inside or you're welcome to stand anywhere you'd like."

You stared at the pass in disbelief.

"...Thank you."

You managed a smile, but inside, you were cracking. You didn't think it would actually work, you didn't think you still mattered, but you did, somehow you still did.

You slipped the lanyard around your neck and walked inside, guided to the small private section tucked slightly off to the side of the stage.

Then the lights dimmed, the music started and he walked on stage.

He looked... incredible, confident. There was something magnetic about him up there—how he moved, how the crowd roared the second he smiled.

He looked like he belonged here, like he was thriving, but what caught you most wasn't the way he looked... kinda— it was the music.

It wasn't what you expected, not really.

Each song bled emotion, honesty wrapped guitar tones. The lyrics were sharp, but delicate. You could feel the weight behind them, they weren't just songs. They were confessions, open wounds, pages torn straight out of a diary they never meant for you to read.

And suddenly, you hated yourself a little for not listening sooner.

You watched him from a quiet corner of the section, still and silent as the last song faded into the roar of the crowd and when the lights came back on you didn't move.

You just stood there, heart full of something complicated, something between closure and longing. It didn't change anything, not really. There were no confessions waiting for you backstage, no signs, no sudden moment that would fix what was already broken between you, but it was something.

It was enough to let you breathe again.

Maybe he had healed, maybe he still thought of you sometimes, maybe both were true.

But watching him up there, doing what he loved, being who he was meant to be made you happy.

Because no matter how much you wanted him, how badly you missed what you had... you were just happy he was happy. ══════════════════════════

The next day at your cafe's grand opening was everything you hoped it would be—chaotic, nerve wracking, beautiful. People came and went, congratulating you, leaving with little pastries and warm drinks in hand and through it all, Haechan stayed by your side like the saint he was. He charmed customers, restocked napkins, wiped down tables without being asked, and even fixed the Wi-Fi when it glitched.

You caught him grinning across the counter at one point and couldn't help but laugh.

"You know, you would actually make a good employee." You teased, leaning on the register.

"Wow, I was expecting 'business partner', but thanks I guess." He said, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Business partner, Haechan." You corrected, still giggling.

You were almost done for the day, the final rush fading out with the setting sun. You moved over to the register to start closing it down when the front door chimed and you glanced up instinctively.

"Hi, welcome, I'm sorry but—" Your voice faltered, words trailing off the moment your eyes met his.

There he was... Jisung. Standing just inside the doorway casual as ever, but with that subtle nervousness you remembered so well.

"You're closed?" He asked, eyebrows lifting as he sucked in his teeth . "I never make it on time man."

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Your brain blanked under the weight of a million things you wanted to say but couldn't.

Haechan looked between the two of you, lips quirking into a smile as if he'd been waiting for this moment.

He stepped closer and pulled you into a soft hug. "I'll see you later." He said warmly. "Congratulations on all this, and please... talk it out. I bought Vip for this."

"You what?" You asked, startled.

He just put a finger to his lips like it was nothing, then turned toward Jisung. There was a pause, a look, something silent but heavy passed between them and Haechan mouthed a quiet "Thank you" before slipping out the door.

And then it was just you and Jisung, like the universe had pulled the strings to place you here, together... again.

Silence stretched between you, you couldn't even look him in the eyes for more than a second.

"Um, do you wanna wait on the bench outside while I finish closing?" You finally managed to ask, your voice barely steady.

He nodded wordless, and turned to step outside.

You didn't even realize how fast your hands were moving as you shut things down, locking the register, wiping counters, turning off lights. You were out of breath, hair a mess, heart hammering. Before rushing out, you paused at the pastry display, grabbing one of the cookies and headed for the door.

You half expected him to be gone. That maybe he changed his mind, realized this was a mistake, that you were someone he should've left behind, but he was still there. Sitting patiently on the bench, staring up at the sky.

You sat down beside him, the air tense with unspoken words. Silently, you slid the cookie into his hand.

"You finally learned how to bake these damn things." He said, laughing softly.

"Yeah, finally." You murmured as you smiled shyly.

He turned to you, sincerity shining in his eyes. "Congratulations on all this. I knew you could do it."

"Thank you." You whispered.

And finally, you let yourself breathe. Let yourself feel the apology that had been tangled in your chest for too long.

"I'm sorry." You started, voice cracking under the weight of everything. "I'm sorry for not being a good friend— now and back then. I'm sorry for shutting you out, and blaming you, for not communicating, for getting mad at you for caring. I'm sorry for everything."

You looked down at your hands, trembling in your lap.

He didn't speak at first. Then quietly, he said: "It's okay."

"No, it's not." You replied instantly, shaking your head. "I ruined everything. This is all my fault."

"We both weren't great to each other." He said gently. "But I want to fix it."

You turned toward him, barely believing it. "Do you really?"

He met your gaze. "Yeah, I do."

"Me too."

"How was the concert last night?" You exhaled, breaking the silence.

"It was good." He said, before he paused looking at you. "How was it for you?"

Your heart skipped a beat. "How did you know?"

"I saw your name checked off on the guest list." He said, giving you a sideways glance.

You smiled faintly. "You guys are good."

"Thanks." He chuckled. "Thank God that video didn't ruin my career, huh?"

You laughed. "Yeah... all this over a video I haven't even seen."

"Do you want to?" He asked.

You hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Yeah."

He pulled out his phone and handed it to you.

"Damn, we look hot." You joked, grinning.

He laughed with you, but then your eyes narrowed, your smile fading.

"Wait..." You paused the video. "That's... that's a security camera angle— from the bar."

"Is it?" Jisung asked, brows furrowing.

"Yeah, I'd joke about it every time I worked a shift. I used to posed for it— it was me and Haechans thing."

Jisung stared at you. "You and Haechan's thing?"

You nodded slowly. "Yeah. Because he's the only one who knows how to work—"

You stopped cold, the words dying on your tongue as realization slammed into you like a truck.

"No." You said, a disbelieving chuckle escaping you. "No. He didn't— he wouldn't."

Jisung didn't speak, just watched you unravel.

"No way." You whispered, standing up. "He—he wouldn't Jisung... he wouldn't do that to me."

He didn't try to convince you either way, that silence was its own answer.

"I—I have to go." You stammered, already pulling out your phone to dial his number.

Jisung just nodded, watching you go.

When you got to the park, he was already there, sitting on the bench like old times. The second he saw you he stood.

"It was you." You blurted before he could speak.

He blinked. "What?"

"You leaked the video." Your voice cracked with disbelief and betrayal. "You're my friend— how could you do that to me?"

"I—I didn't." He said, but his voice wavered, guilt already written on his face.

"Don't lie to me." You said, voice rising. "I know it was you, so just cut the bullshit. Why Haechan?"

His eyes were glossy. "Y/n, please let me explain."

"Then explain." You bit back, arms crossed, trying to keep from falling apart.

"I didn't do it on purpose." He said quietly.

"That night, when Jisung had a breakdown and you walked in with hickeys all over your neck, I knew what happened, but I wanted to see it. I checked the cameras and yeah, it hurt... a lot. Because I liked you Y/n and seeing that—seeing him, was like someone punched me in the chest."

You swallowed hard.

"But you know what hurt worse?" He said, voice trembling. "Telling my best friend how I felt... and having her laugh at me."

A flicker of shame crossed your face.

"Yeah, it didn't feel great." He said, noticing the twist in your expression. "But you know what did feel good? Her celebrity crush kissing the girl I liked. It was like payback—a way to rub it in her face, to make her feel a bit of what I felt. I told her about it, and of course she didn't believe me, so I sent the video. I didn't expect her to spread it around. I told her not to show anyone—begged her not to, but she did anyway. I haven't spoken to her since."

He wiped his face roughly. "I fucked up. I was jealous. Not just of him, but of what you had. He's effortless, and I'm... me. I never meant to hurt you, that was never my intention."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.

"But honestly Y/n... and I'm saying this as your friend, you're screwing yourself over. If you really care about him, if you weren't lying to me then what the hell are you waiting for? I bought VIP just to get you two to talk and you're here right now. You still haven't told him how you feel? You're just... waiting for something to happen? Get your shit together, seriously. You're pissing me off."

The honesty of it hit hard because he was right.

You stared at him, exhaling sharply. "Fuck, I'm supposed to be mad at you."

A grin cracked his face. "I honestly thought you were about to punch me."

You laughed, shaking your head as you swatted his shoulder. "No, you're right. I needed to hear that."

He looked at you, a little relieved. "Now go... please."

And for the first time in a while you didn't feel stuck. You felt like maybe just maybe you were finally ready to stop running.

You turned around to leave, your shoes crunching softly against the ground, the night air cool against your skin, but something made you stop—your heart tugging at you like it wasn't ready to let go just yet. You turned back around slowly, your eyes meeting Haechan's, who stood there with his brows knit together clearly confused.

You gave him an embarrassed look. "This is actually... kind of the perfect scenery, so—can you actually go, please?"

His lips parted in disbelief, a soft laugh escaping. "Could you possibly make this any more unbearable for me?"

You exhaled, half a laugh, half a sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Bye. Good luck." His voice was light as he walked past you, his shoulder brushing yours on purpose. A small smile on his face as he disappeared down the path.

The second he was gone, everything felt still. You turned toward the bench near the lake and slowly sat down, your fingers locking together tightly in your lap. The lake reflected the moon in ripples, like it was breathing along with you—anxious and quiet.

You stared for a long moment before reaching into your pocket and pulling out your phone. Your thumb hovered over Jisung's name, nerves crawling up your throat, then finally, you tapped.

It rang once... twice.

"Hey." He answered softly, like he already knew.

"I'll send my location. Can you come?" Your voice barely came out.

"Ok." He replied.

A few minutes later he was there, walking slowly toward you with his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. He stopped in front of the bench.

"Can I sit?" He asked.

You nodded, scooting slightly to the side to make room. He sat beside you, close, but not too close. The silence stretched again, but this time it just felt... fragile.

"I was gonna let you leave." You said, your voice breaking through the quiet. "I really thought I would. I thought if I didn't say it, maybe it would just fade, but it didn't."

He didn't say anything, just looked at you with those eyes—still... patient.

"I was scared." You admitted. "Still am. I've been running around in circles, pretending like I'm fine, pretending I don't want more than just whatever...this has been."

Jisung swallowed, his lips parting slightly as if to speak, but you kept going.

"When I finally got the courage, and I listened to that interlude—" You glanced over at him, your cheeks warming. "You know the one."

He gave a soft, crooked smile, the kind that told you he knew exactly which one you meant.

"I cried." You said, your voice barely a whisper. "I cried because I felt like you were telling me everything you couldn't say— or maybe everything I couldn't say. And it made me realize I didn't want to keep pretending I didn't feel it."

He blinked slowly, taking that in, not rushing you.

"I like you." You said finally. "I think I always have. Even when I tried to act like we were just friends, even when I said I didn't want anything serious... I think part of me was lying. Not because I wanted to hurt you, I just didn't know how to let myself want this."

Jisung looked down, his fingers tracing the edge of the bench before he looked back up, his gaze meeting yours.

"I was talking about you in that song." He said quietly. "Even when I was miles away, on stages I used to dream about, my head was still here, with you."

Your breath caught.

"I didn't know what we were." He continued. "Sometimes I thought maybe I imagined it all, maybe you just needed someone to fill a space, but then you'd do something—call me in the middle of the night just to hear my voice, or show up to my hotel room without telling me and I'd be right back to hoping again."

"I didn't mean to confuse you." You whispered.

"I know." He said. "I think we were both scared— of messing it up, of wanting something real and not knowing how to ask for it."

You nodded, a small tear slipping down your cheek. He reached over, brushing it away gently with his thumb.

"I don't need a label right now." He said. "I don't need promises or some perfect plan, but I want to try. Like... really try. Slow, honest, whatever it takes."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Ok, let's try."

A soft smile appeared on both of your faces, the weight between you easing just a little.

You leaned into his side, and he rested his chin lightly on your head.

For the first time in a while, everything felt possible again.

"You know what I want?" Jisung said after a quiet moment, still resting his chin lightly on your head.

You hummed. "Food?"

He laughed, pulling back to look at you. "I mean, yeah. But also..." He paused, his smile turning soft. "I want the usual."

You lifted your brows, confused. "Usual?"

"You know... dinner, arcade. That thing we pretend isn't a date."

Your smile deepened, and you nodded once. "Okay. Let's do the usual." ══════════════════════════

About a month had passed since you and Jisung started taking things slow. You stuck to your usual routine—dinner and the arcade, but that night he told you there was one more place he wanted to take you.

The drive was short, and even though he didn't say where you were going, you recognized the road.

When the car slowed down near the edge of a wide open stretch of land, your eyes glistened.

The field.

You hadn't been there in years.

It was just as you remembered. Wild grass swaying in the breeze, the slight slope of the hill that was perfect for lying on your backs. The stars above, spilling across the sky with no city lights to outshine them.

Jisung parked and got out first, walking toward the middle of the field like muscle memory. You followed, your steps slow.

He looked over his shoulder. "Still scared of bugs?"

"Yes." You didn't hesitate.

He grinned. "Still coming?"

You rolled your eyes. "Obviously."

When you reached him, he was already dropping onto the grass, lying back with his arms folded behind his head. You hesitated before sinking down beside him, copying his position, your shoulders brushing.

For a while, neither of you said anything.

The quiet didn't feel heavy, just... existed. Like the sky above you, like all the years between then and now.

"I use to lay here and think about getting out of this town." He said eventually.

You turned your head, looking at his side profile.

"And now?"

He paused before glancing at you. "Now I think about how I had everything I needed already, right here."

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbow. You followed, sitting up as well, knees brushing.

"I know I said we could take things slow." He said. "And I still mean that— we don't have to rush anything, and we don't have to put a label on it just to make it feel real."

You nodded, heart climbing into your throat.

"But I do want to say it out loud Y/n. I like you. Like... I'm done hiding it or waiting around for you to figure it out. I'm here, I want this— I want you."

You stared at him, chest tightening in the best possible way.

"So I'm asking." He said. "Will you go out with me? Like, officially."

You blinked back the sting in your eyes. "Is this your way of making me your high school sweetheart years too late?"

He laughed. "I'm reclaiming the timeline."

You giggled, heart racing. "Okay. Let's do it... officially."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A pause.

"Can I kiss you now?" He asked quietly, his voice nervous in that soft, boyish way that made your stomach flip.

You smiled. "I'd be mad if you didn't."

So he did—right there in that same field where you used to dream together, where you once swore you'd never fall for your best friend.

And somehow, despite the past, the hurt, the long way it took to get here—it felt like the very beginning. ══════════════════════════

It had been a year since Jisung left again—off to chase stages in different time zones, to sing in languages you didn't always understand, but still listened to on repeat. You missed him like hell, but you kept yourself moving. There was always something to do: recipes to tweak, staff schedules to fix, orders to place, playlists to shuffle.

"Did you put in the Chai order for next week?" Haechan's voice rang out from behind you, yanking you out of your head.

You blinked, fingers still hovering over the keyboard. "I'm about to. You can chill, like, now."

"I'm literally just saving us from another shortage." He said, holding his hands up. "Not trying to die over lattes again."

You sighed, smirking. "One time. It happened one time."

"Exactly, once was enough."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the fondness in your smile. Haechan, as it turned out made a surprisingly great business partner. He was loud, dramatic, borderline annoying—but reliable, loyal, and somehow always two steps ahead when you needed it most.

You headed into the back room to finally add the damn Chai to the inventory list. You were halfway through typing when you heard a voice behind you.

"I think those cookies need to be restocked."

Your heart stopped.

You spun around so fast the chair nearly tipped. "Jisung?!"

He stood there in the doorway, hoodie zipped halfway, cap low over his eyes, but unmistakably him. Bright eyed and smiling like he was standing exactly where he was supposed to be.

"I thought you weren't supposed to land until next week." You said, pushing yourself up so fast you nearly stumbled toward him.

"I wasn't, but I missed you." He said simply, catching you in his arms. "So... surprise. Are you surprised?"

You didn't answer, just pulled him in for a kiss.

"I'll take that as a yes." He murmured against your lips.

Behind you, Haechan groaned dramatically. "Can y'all not defile the break room? I eat in here."

You flipped him off with a soft laugh, still tangled in Jisung's arms.

"I saw that." Haechan called over his shoulder as he passed by. "Now I'm reconsidering whether I'm still covering the rest of your shift."

You glanced between them. "Wait...covering for what?"

"Nothing." Haechan said too quickly, eyes squinting. "Go away."

You raised a brow. "I don't want to leave you here alone."

"It's the slow part of the day, and we have staff. I'll live, go." He made shooing motions without looking at you.

"Jisung." You said, narrowing your eyes. "What did you two plot?"

"Absolutely nothing." He said, already steering you toward the door with a grin. "Totally innocent."

The field looked just like it used to when you arrived. Golden with the late sun, like time had left it untouched. There was a blanket spread out this time, with snacks, drinks, and a small speaker humming quietly with one of your favorite songs.

"You did all this?" You asked, surprised.

"I did." He said proudly. "For my girlfriend."

You smiled. "How did you even get it all set up?"

"Haechan helped."

"Oh, so you like him now?"

"Well, he's not trying to steal my girl anymore, so yeah, we're cool." He said with a half smirk.

"You shouldn't be so sure." You teased, raising a brow.

He blinked.

"Kidding, relax." You laughed, nudging him.

There was a pause—just the two of you watching each other like you hadn't done it in far too long.

"When are you leaving again?" You asked gently, trying not to let the question tremble.

His eyes flicked to yours, then softened. "Wow. Just got here and you're already waiting for my departure?"

"No." You shook your head. "I just... I want to be ready."

He reached out, brushing your hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek.

"Well, you don't have to be. I'm not leaving anytime soon."

You felt your shoulders drop, relief sliding over your bones.

"Good." You whispered.

"Just good?" He teased, leaning closer.

"Great, amazing, spectacular, merry." You added, laughing.

"Merry." He repeated with a snort. "Who even says that?"

"Me, your merry girlfriend."

He grinned before kissing you again, slower this time.

"I love you." You said against his lips.

"I love you too." He whispered.

You stayed there as the sun dipped below the horizon, wrapped up in his arms, surrounded by the sound of wind and your own quiet breath.

Some things take time, some things take work, some things take a little heartbreak, a lot of healing, and the courage to try again.

Love doesn't have to be loud to be lasting. The right people don't just show up when it's easy, but when it's hard. When it's inconvenient, when it's uncomfortable— and they stay.

Not because they have to, but because they want to and sometimes, that's more than enough.

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#nct x reader #nct #nct dream #nct fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream angst #park jisung #park jisung angst #nct jisung #jisung nct #nct jisung angst #nct dream jisung

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