Chapter Text
“I hate this.”
Is the first thing Jisung hears that morning, just minutes after arriving at the studio.
He turns around to see Minho entering the room, eyes glued to his phone.
“I don’t like it either,” Jisung mutters, “but Chan made the decision.”
Minho doesn’t bother looking up. He simply rolls his eyes and lets out a quiet, “Hmh.”
Silence settles between them.
Jisung returns his gaze to his laptop. Instead of focusing on the half-finished arrangement on his screen, he opens a new file and scrolls through his pre-recorded sounds. He taps on a two-minute loop and slides his headphones on, letting the track fill his ears.
Minho scrolls on his phone, silently listening as Jisung taps in rhythm to the track.
It feels like forever before the door opens again and Chan and Changbin step inside.
“Good, you’re both already here. The rest should be arriving soon,” Chan says, clearly pleased.
They both nod silently.
“Ah, Jisung, you’re already working?” Changbin pulls up a chair beside him. “Show me the song idea you mentioned yesterday—I’m curious.”
“Okay, so—” Jisung begins, but the door bursts open.
“Sorry we’re late!” Felix laughs loudly. “But a certain Mr. Hyunjin got a little too excited this morning.”
“Excited about what?” asks Seungmin, stepping into the studio right behind them.
“Nothing at all. He’s just crazy,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, but the smirk on his face gives him away.
“Alright,” Chan claps his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “Now that almost everyone’s here, we can go over the details. I’ll talk with Jeongin later.”
He pauses for effect.
“You’re all here because we’ve been selected to perform as a team at the very first International JYP Entertainment Festival. So—what do you say? Still on board?”
He knows the answer before he finishes asking. Even Minho and Jisung wouldn’t back out.
Felix grins the widest, but everyone else nods with varying levels of excitement.
“Great. Let’s get started,” Changbin says, pointing at Jisung. “He already has something to show us.”
They gather around his desk. Jisung pulls out his headphones and hesitates for a moment.
“It’s not finished yet, and honestly, I’m still not totally convinced but—”
“Just play it, Han,” Minho interrupts, rolling his eyes.
Chan rolls his own eyes in response. “When will they stop bickering?” he mumbles under his breath.
“I don’t know. Hopefully soon. Jisung doesn’t look so good today,” Felix whispers beside him.
“But that’s not because of Minho,” Chan replies quietly, just before the track starts and Jisung begins to sing the first verse live.
When the demo ends, Jisung exhales softly. “So? Verse two’s still incomplete, but I think Changbin could work his magic there. Oh—and Chan, we need to tweak some parts. I’m still not used to the new software.”
He chuckles softly, unsure.
But instead of replying, Felix breaks into applause. “I love it. Seriously. You guys are going to crush it.” He checks the time. “Okay, I have to be in front of my class in like 20 minutes. Text me when you’re ready and we’ll start planning choreography.”
He kisses Changbin’s cheek on the way out and disappears through the door.
“Let’s meet again once the track’s fully done so we can iron out everything else,” Seungmin says, gathering his things. He leaves with Minho, who only gives a brief nod.
“I’ll go too,” says Hyunjin, but he pauses at the door. “Oh, and Chan—why Seungmin? There are other vocal coaches at the school.”
“So that you can finally be happy again,” Chan sing-songs.
“See you, Hyunjin.”
Finally, it’s just the production team. Chan turns to Jisung.
“When’s your appointment?”
“In less than an hour. Binnie, could you drive me? My car’s still in the shop.”
Changbin nods quietly, and the two begin adjusting the arrangement together.
Outside the hospital, Changbin parks by the curb.
“Call me when you’re done. I’ll wait at the café nearby,” he says.
Jisung nods, steps out of the car, and walks slowly toward the large glass doors bearing the sign: Hospital.
He lets out a quiet sigh, checks in at the front desk, and takes a seat in the waiting area.
“Let’s hope it’s nothing too serious,” he murmurs under his breath.
“Han Jisung?”
The voice calling his name is calm and clear.
He enters the consultation room. A cold shiver runs down his spine—he’s never liked medical offices. The pristine white walls, the posters of internal organs, the lifeless desk separating doctor and patient. It always feels too clinical.
Ms. Choi, however, greets him with a warm, practiced smile.
“So, Mr. Han, how are you feeling today?”
Her smile doesn’t waver, but Jisung finds it unsettling—like it’s fixed in place.
He attempts to smile back. “A little nervous about your call… but otherwise fine.”
She nods slowly and sets down her clipboard.
“Let’s begin, then.”
Her smile falters just slightly.
“Your vitals look stable, and your heart is finally adjusting. There shouldn’t be any more major complications. So this is your first—final—evaluation. That said, Mr. Han, we’ll still need you to come in regularly, just in case your heart decides to surprise us again. I can’t give you a full clearance yet… but this is progress.”
Jisung exhales sharply, audibly, and his eyes begin to glisten with quiet relief.
“Thank you.”
After the appointment, he walks to the café, where Changbin is already waiting with two drinks.
“So? What did she say?” Changbin asks immediately, his voice a little shaky.
“My heart is adjusting… and I shouldn’t worry.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Lie.
Changbin’s eyes begin to fill with tears. He pulls Jisung into a tight hug and silently sobs into his shoulder.
One week later, Jisung is buzzing with excitement. Today’s the day they’ll present the full demo to the others.
I hope they like it.
He stretches, climbs out of bed, and walks down the hall to the bathroom, a proud smile on his face.
But when he takes off his shirt, the smile fades. His eyes land on the large scar across his chest. Slowly, he traces it with his fingers.
“You’ll always be with me.”
He glances out the window.
“I’ll protect your heart. I promise.”
A deep breath. Then he steps into the shower to get ready for the day.
Standing in front of the foggy mirror, he speaks to his reflection.
“Today will be a good day. Don’t worry. They’ll love it.”
Before rushing out the door—late, as usual—he grabs a small round box from the kitchen table and stuffs it into the pocket of his black jacket.
When Jisung arrives at the studio, Jeongin is already waiting outside the door.
“What are you doing here so early?” Jisung asks.
“I have class at eight and wanted to ask Chan something, but obviously, he’s not here yet,” Jeongin chuckles. For just a moment, Jisung notices a light blush on his cheeks.
Oh boy. This is gonna be fun.
“Come on, I’ll let you in.” Jisung opens the door and flicks on the lights. The studio is flooded with a soft, golden glow.
“Sit here,” he gestures to the center desk, dominated by a large monitor and a jungle of cables and gear that Jeongin doesn’t recognize.
Jisung walks over to his own desk—the one by the window.
His favorite spot.
He loves watching the people below as he writes. Somehow, seeing them live their lives gives him comfort… and inspiration.
And okay—being able to peek into the opposite building where the dance studios are? Not a bonus. Definitely not.
All the desks face inward so that the team can speak easily without turning their backs.
Each desk has little touches that reveal its owner: a pink ribbon for Changbin, a grey wolf sticker for Chan, a brown seat cushion for Jisung and many photos…
But Jisung’s desk has only one photo.
A photo that hurts every time he looks at it.
But he keeps it there. He deserves to feel that pain.
He caused it.
Jisung is completely lost in his own world.
Jeongin sits quietly across from him, wondering if Jisung even remembers he’s there.
For a while, he just watches. Watches how Jisung glances at the photo on his desk.
Watches him take a deep breath and reach into his pocket.
Watches as he pulls out a small pill bottle, takes a couple of tablets, swallows them dry, and tucks the container away again. Then he just stares at his screen.
Jeongin doesn’t know what the pills are for. And he wants to ask—he really does. But somehow, he holds himself back.
“You don’t have to worry, Jeongin.” Jisung’s voice floats gently across the room, almost too soft to be real.
So he didn’t forget me after all.
Before Jeongin can respond, the door bursts open and a breathless Chan stumbles in, pulling off his beanie.
“It’s so damn cold today,” he grumbles, ruffling his blonde curls.
Jeongin freezes for a second.
Chan looks… effortlessly good. His curls fall perfectly over his eyes, and his lips are slightly parted from the cold. Jeongin can’t help but stare.
Jisung bursts into silent laughter.
Chan hasn’t even noticed Jeongin yet—he’s too busy groaning about the weather—and Jeongin’s sitting there, cheeks flushed pink, clearly stunned.
“Good morning to you too, Chan,” Jisung says teasingly.
Chan finally looks up. “Oh, hi Ji—Jeongin?!” His voice jumps slightly in pitch.
Jeongin blinks back to reality. He doesn’t even notice his own expression, but Jisung does. And he’s grinning like a devil behind his desk.
“Alright, I’ll leave you two alone. But since I’ve got work to do, I’ll just put my headphones on and pretend I’m invisible,” Jisung jokes, slipping on his headset and turning back to his screen.
Chan clears his throat and turns to Jeongin, trying to recover his usual composure. “So… what are you doing here so early?”
Jeongin rubs the back of his neck, a little flustered. “I wanted to ask your advice. One of my students is having trouble with his rap timing. Thought maybe you could help?”
He flashes Chan a bright, hopeful smile.
Chan’s lips curve upward. “I’d be happy to.”
The two of them agree to stop by the class together before school officially starts. Jeongin throws Jisung a quick glance and then follows Chan to the door.
As he walks past him, Chan gently places a hand on the small of Jeongin’s back to guide him out.
Jeongin was not expecting that.
His ears go red. His cheeks heat up.
Damn it. Get it together.
This time, Jisung doesn’t notice. Or at least, it seems like he doesn’t.
He’s sitting at his desk, staring at his laptop.
Except… it’s still off. The screen is black.
He’s using it as a mirror, watching the building across the street.
Because he knows exactly who’s in Studio 143 right now.
Lee Minho.
Jisung knows Minho’s schedule by heart. And Minho knows his.
Back when they still talked—really talked—they’d often stand by their windows, watching each other work.
Sometimes they’d just stare at each other with soft smiles, like they didn’t need to speak to understand.
Those were the moments that made Jisung’s worst days better.
But before he can drift too deep into memory, the door opens again.
Changbin walks in. Felix follows, practically bouncing.
“Hyung, we’re meeting at Hyunjin’s studio around one. Don’t be late,” Felix calls.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there,” Jisung replies with a laugh. “I’m never late.”
Changbin rolls his eyes. “Sure.”
Felix grins and plants a kiss on Changbin’s cheek before leaving the room.
Changbin sits down, his cheeks slightly pink.
“Don’t you dare say anything, Jisung.”
But Jisung only smirks and turns back to his laptop.
What he doesn’t admit—won’t admit—is that he’s upset the blinds across the street are now closed. The studio is dark. He can’t see inside anymore.
But no. He tells himself not to be offended.
On the other side of the window, Minho stands in the dim light of his studio, behind closed blinds.
He hasn’t been working either.
He was standing at the window—far enough away that no one could see him clearly—just watching.
Watching Jisung.
But he‘s supposed to be teaching a hip-hop class, and he can’t afford distractions.
So he shut the blinds.
And even though he won’t say it out loud—won’t even say it to himself—he misses being able to see him.
Pull yourself together, Minho.
1:00 p.m. rolls around. The team begins gathering at Hyunjin’s studio.
And—of course—Jisung is late.
“Sorry, sorry! I got held up by a student and couldn’t get rid of him,” he apologizes, breathing a little too fast.
“No worries. We haven’t started yet anyway,” Hyunjin says with a smile. “Alright! Let’s begin!”
He claps his hands enthusiastically.
“Yah, we’re not your students, Hyunjin,” grumbles Changbin.
Felix just laughs. “Babe, it’s just a habit. Dance teacher reflexes. Get used to it,” he winks.
Changbin mutters something under his breath.
“Okay, Jisung, if you would,” Chan gestures toward the stereo.
Jisung walks over and scans for the USB port. Minho’s already leaning against the stereo.
Before Jisung can figure it out, Minho reaches over, just a bit impatient.
“Give me that,” he mutters, plugging the stick in smoothly. “Here. Then press that. Got it?”
He walks off before Jisung can respond.
“Rude,” Jisung mumbles, but presses the buttons anyway.
The music begins.
All eight boys stand in a wide arc in the studio, listening intently. The demo fills the room, thick with beats and emotion.
Hyunjin, standing near the mirrored wall, begins to move instinctively with the rhythm.
Felix, next to Changbin, also starts swaying. They share a quick glance—one that speaks of a shared idea—and Felix begins sketching a choreo in his head.
Changbin, meanwhile, can’t stop watching Felix.
That look—like he’s the only person in the room.
It’s the kind of look people notice.
Jisung is being looked at that way too.
But he doesn’t notice.
He’s standing still, eyes closed, just letting himself feel the music.
Across the room, Minho doesn’t take his eyes off him.
As the last note fades, silence settles for a beat.
Then Hyunjin is the first to speak.
“I love the vibe! I already have a few choreo ideas in my head.”
Felix nods immediately. “Same. It’s got movement, layers. We can do a lot with this.”
“Alright then, let’s split up and brainstorm,” says Chan.
So they do.
Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix settle on the floor in front of the mirror wall.
Minho leans against it, arms crossed; Hyunjin lies on his stomach, twirling a pen in one hand; Felix sits cross-legged, one knee up, already scribbling down ideas in a notebook.
On the opposite side of the room, Chan sits with Seungmin and Jeongin, talking through song structure and vocal arrangements.
Changbin and Jisung have taken the sofa in the back corner. Laptops open, wires snaking everywhere. They’re fine-tuning the instrumental, adjusting EQ levels, debating tiny details only they understand.
But Jeongin, still a little distracted, leans closer to Seungmin.
“Hey… what’s going on with you and Hyunjin?”
The question lands like a weight.
Seungmin tenses instantly.
“Not—” He clears his throat. “Nothing. I need to get something from Jisung.” He stands up without waiting and disappears across the room.
Which leaves Jeongin alone with Chan.
And Jeongin notices how close they’re sitting.
Like, really close.
His cheeks flush again.
“Do you know what’s going on between them?” he asks, motioning subtly toward Hyunjin and Seungmin.
Chan smiles slyly. “Of course I do. Come closer.”
Jeongin shifts a little closer. Just a little.
Chan leans in like he’s about to share a state secret.
“Hyunjin and Seungmin were close in high school. Like, really close. At one point, Seungmin made a move. They even dated for a while, but… Hyunjin’s parents didn’t approve. Things got complicated. Messy. They broke up.”
Jeongin blinks.
Chan continues, voice low. “And now? They’re suddenly back in each other’s lives like nothing ever happened. But let’s be honest—one look at them and it’s obvious there’s still something there.”
Jeongin nods slowly. “Okay, that explains the weird tension. Like, they’re both trying not to look at each other but also trying so hard to look.”
Chan chuckles. “Exactly.”
“And what about those two?” Jeongin asks, nodding toward Jisung and Minho.
Chan exhales. “That… is a long story. And I can only tell you half of it.”
“I’ve got time,” Jeongin says simply.
Chan’s voice drops. “They haven’t really spoken—like, really spoken—for around two years.”