Chapter Text
January 23rd 2018
He loved performing.
He loved how his body flowed with the music, making each beat have a visual purpose. Something shifts in his whole being the moment he takes the spotlight, as if he becomes someone entirely new. No longer the person who struggled to speak at times, no longer the person that preferred a night at home than big crowds, no longer uncomfortable in his skin. Completely new and revised.
It was a feeling he knew well and unfortunately, a feeling he struggled to regain after the showcase incident.
He steadied himself into position, his breathing was already erratic and the dance hadn’t even begun yet. He could feel their eyes on him, he could feel the judgment, the contentment. His eyes fluttered closed as he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before the music started. When his eyes opened, they immediately locked onto the one he was avoiding the most and his chest tightened.
Han Jisung was watching him.
The music began before he could process the brief action. Moving into the choreo quickly, he attempted to put on the best performance he could despite his unwell state. A fake smile grew on his lips as he put more energy into the ironically upbeat song, trying to give the impression that he was enjoying himself.
Which was far from the truth.
He kept the fake smile plastered onto his face, he kept it as consistent as he could. His smile didn’t even waver when the cheering stopped at his part, every time. He didn’t waver when he heard whispers of distaste, only heard during his parts. He didn’t waver when he felt his knees slowly giving out under him, reminding him of the night before. He didn’t waver when his hands shook violently in the ending pose.
His smile never wavered.
That’s how he always was. He put on an act, he got through whatever he had to get through, all the time no matter the circumstance. Working so hard on the tasks at hand to the point where he neglected his personal needs. In hindsight, that type of determination could be seen as a positive thing, however, balance and self care was needed in order for a crash out to be avoided. Balance and self care was something Minho was clearly incapable of executing.
He stumbled off the stage as soon as the lights went down, gasping aggressively as he crumpled to the floor in anguish. The other dancers from the performance walked past him, ignoring the distress he was exhibiting. Minho wouldn’t expect anything less from the group that decided to turn his life upside down less than 24 hours prior to the performance, their newfound hatred for him was evident. As the exhausted dancer attempted to regain his breath, a blonde hair boy came running up to him, rubbing his arm softly while reciting words of comfort.
Felix.
Okay so not everyone hated him.
He still had the chipper blonde haired boy that radiated sunshine.
His arms wrapped around Minho in a tight hug, a silent understanding between the two of the current situation.
Hands rubbed his back softly as a tear slowly spilled down Minho’s cheek, the sudden change in the atmosphere shocked the shaken boy and he hadn’t been able to process the events of the previous day until the current moment. He began to silently sob into the younger’s shoulder, gripping his shirt tightly as the question “why” plagued his mind.
“Everything will be okay.”
September 1st 2021
Minho looked at his phone, no notifications.
He tapped his foot impatiently waiting for his notoriously late best friend.
At least the weather was nice.
The temperature wasn’t too hot but not cold enough to need a sweater and the breeze lightly swayed the trees above, providing small shade to the second year university student who was slowly becoming very grumpy with the tardiness of his soon to be roommate. He swatted a fly away from his muscular forearms that were covered in dark swirls of ink, fixing the cuff of his dark button up shirt in the process. His gaze wandered to the courtyard as he waited, analyzing all the new students arriving for move in day at the university. Three major occurrences seemed to be common amongst the newbies. First, Minho noticed the students that would arrive with their parents, sobbing uncontrollably and unwilling to give up their childhood, they appeared quite…sheltered. The cherry on top was when they would bring out their childhood stuffy or a suspiciously small blanket, clearly not ready to grow up. Secondly, he noticed the obnoxious try hards. They arrive loudly, smacking their gum loudly and laughing as if their friends were professional comedians. It almost felt as if they would try to walk in formation like the mean girls in every high school movie. The guys were almost worse, they would push each other around and throw random objects while repeating “bro” like it was a spell to summon popularity. And lastly, he looked at the individuals who arrived alone. Majority of them seemed anxious, their eyes bolting around trying to take in the view while finding out where to go with no assistance. A couple of them walked confidently yet Minho could sense their nerves from miles away, whether it was their jittery fingers or their fake smiles. Change is scary to everyone, especially alone.
Minho had distracted himself so much with people watching that he almost didn’t noticed the blondie bouncing up to him with a giant suitcase.
“MIN!!”
The older boy jolted as his younger friend plowed into him with a bone crushing hug. “I missed you!” Minho scoffed briefly as he peeled his clingy friend off of him.
“We literally hung out yesterday.”
Felix scrunched his face and crossed his arm, pretending to be upset. His freckles popped around his nose, accentuating his big eyes and light hair. Minho always thought Felix was beautiful, with his happy attitude and positive outlook on everything, it was hard to be in a bad mood around his own personal ball of sunshine. He bent down and picked up his friend's suitcase, groaning at the unexpected weight of it. “Did you pack your whole house in this?? Why is it so damn heavy.”
“God forbid a guy has accessories.”
Minho gave him a pointed look before walking away with said suitcase towards their new shared dorm.
Felix yapped the entire 15 minute walk to their dorm, not bothering to help his friend who was clearly struggling with his intense baggage. Minho was a strong guy, he began working out as a form of therapy after the showcase incident and never looked back. He was capable of lifting heavy weights and had a very high endurance. None of that matter when it came to Felix’s luggage. It was a different level of heavy.
He glanced over to his smaller framed friend who bounced with each step and wondered how the fuck he managed to carry it out of his own house and the uber he took to campus.
He huffed loudly as he trudged along with the suitcase from hell as it began to hurt his fingers. He shifted it to his other hand, making it sway slightly to the side, hitting a fellow student passing by. “Oh shit, sorry man.” He said earnestly as he tried to finish adjusting, not bothering to look up. “No worries.”
The voice.
It made his skin crawl and his stomach churned, it caused a reaction so strong he felt weaker than he already felt physically from the suitcase. He knew that voice but his memory failed him. He attempted to re-focus on the yapper beside him for the rest of the walk yet the voice of the stranger kept replaying in his mind.
The first day of class came faster than expected. Felix moved into Minho’s dorm on the wednesday and classes began on the monday. They had 4 days to get comfortable and prepare for the upcoming year yet neither of them felt ready for their new workload. Minho was in his second year of Data analysis and Felix was going into his first year of psychology, both courses had intense workloads and the duo were seemingly unprepared. That became clear to Minho as he listened to the professor in his first class, his voice sounded like the parents in peanuts. Clearly he was saying words but he could not decipher anything the old man was talking about. He sighed and pushed his hands through his hair in frustration, attempting to see if the worksheet in front of him made any more sense than the mumbling professor. He furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate when something happens that makes his concentration a lost cause.
“Could you repeat that last note?”
The voice. Shivers immediately encapsulated his body as the familiarity of the mystery boy pinged in his chest. He knew that voice, he knew it well but he could not place a face or a name. He followed the professors gaze to an individual in the front row. Minho couldnt help but note how bold it was to ask a question and sit in the first row on the first day of university. He craned his neck to get a better view of the person who owned the voice, desperate for some answers. The first thing he noticed about them was their dark blue hair, it was a striking colour that stuck out in a room full of natural hues. The professor huffed angrily in response to the blue haired student and turned on his heel, pointing to the powerpoint on the wall. “As you can see, we have moved on, collect the notes from your peers after the class is done.” The next action surprised Minho, it was something he would never dare to do in class let alone on his first day. The blue haired boy stood up, peering at everyone’s notes on their desks. Minho tries to see his face but the mystery guy is looking down making a glimpse near impossible. “Get back in your seat NOW.” The professor loudly boomed, making an awkward silence follow.
A chuckle is heard through the still room, sending a shiver down Minho’s spine. He recognized the chuckle all too well, the realization of identity was slowly creeping up on him and he began to dread the result. “Unfortunately sir, I won’t be able to grab the last note from anyone since no one wrote it down. Could you repeat it without mumbling this time?” The blue haired boy said in a condescending tone while returning to his seat, resulting in a few giggles and whispers around the room. In regular circumstances, Minho would’ve laughed along with them; however, he felt paralyzed when he heard the sentence from the mystery man. There’s no way…
The voice. It can’t be.
He wouldn’t be in this class, hes a year younger.
It’s not possible.
“Get out of my classroom NOW.” The professor nearly yelled as his face slowly became a shade of deep red. The culprit of the interruption stood up, gathered his things and walked towards the door with a nonchalant demeanour.
Minho would recognize that attitude anywhere.
He turns around when he gets to the exit and it makes the older gasp, he knew it but the confirmation felt almost suffocating. Anger rose slowly in his body as his hands clenched and his face contorted into pure disgust.
“See you tomorrow, teach.” He gave a dramatic salute with a cocky smile.
“Just get out of my classroom,”
“Han Jisung.”
You have got to be fucking kidding me.